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Riley was mumbling something about how the hell he was supposed to stop a tunnel full of water or steam when they all heard the unmistakable click of the master switch. It echoed throughout the tunnel.
Then came a popping sound as a light bulb in the distance exploded, but back the way they came, there were a string of lights that flickered and then turned on which gave them visibility of nearly fifty feet in both directions. Brady flipped up his goggles and got out of the cart to take a look at the service box.
“You understand any of this, John?”
Armando answered him, “It looks like it’s to an engine room of some kind. I think they’ve got a water pump or a station here probably set up in case of fire. We’re probably right underneath the tarmac.”
“So that water pump needs electricity, right? You think we’re going to flag anything by having this turned on?” Brady asked.
All three of them considered their options.
“Nah, I say we leave it on. I don’t think anybody’s been here in a long time. And whatever this is hooked up to probably doesn’t work anymore anyway. But the lights do, and right now, that’s more important, isn’t it?” John added.
“Hallelujah for that,” Riley agreed. “Now, if we could use a little room spray, I might actually start to be comfortable.”
John and Brady shared a good laugh.
Brady holstered his SIG and heard Fredo’s voice in his ear.
“They’re in good shape, but there’s a hell of a lot of activity going on in front of the terminal. Doesn’t look like they’ve got more than about twenty armed guards for the warehouse. Mostly men and a few women—looks like their volunteer army are helping with the food distribution. They’re passing out waters and beers, but they got some fruit and some sandwiches. I don’t know how they’re going to feed all those people. But we got some great pictures of the outside. Enemario wants to know if he should try to get the bird positioned to look in the windows and get some photos. What do you think, Brady?”
“Tell him we really don’t want to be discovered. Let’s hold off on that. See if he can get a bird’s eye aerial view of the whole compound so we could send that link up. And then have him get ready, and when we come out the other side, I’ll direct you where I think we need to get some eyes.”
“Roger that. I’ll go tell him.”
“So do we wait here then for Fredo?” asked John.
“Yeah, I think we do. It’s going to be light soon, and I think the more we could stick together, until we know what the hell we’re doing, the better. Strength in numbers.”
Brady pulled out his cell and texted a couple of messages to Charlie, but unfortunately, the signal was blocked by the concrete walls of the tunnel. “Damn.”
“Good time for a bathroom break? How about some hydration?” Armando asked.
“Great idea. Everybody grab your waters, and anybody who needs to take a leak, head on over toward that coyote or whatever the hell it was. I’m thinking, just in case somebody comes through, that animal’s going to mask the smell of your piss.”
Several minutes later, he heard Fredo signal he was on his way back.
Once they were all reconnected, they moved slowly through the tunnel, stopping from time to time to listen for sounds that might have been masked by the cart motors. The one thing that did stop, however, was the bat flights. Brady was grateful for that. They hung from the ceiling, protecting themselves from the lights.
At last, natural sunlight shone at the end of the tunnel, and they were presented with a set of double doors, each of them with a glass window, which was helpful. They peered inside and saw what looked to be a locker room next to a storage closet full of supplies and a set of boxes, a workbench, and some mechanical tools. It wasn’t anything too sophisticated and looked like it had been recently used, but Brady had his eye on a drill that he’d like to pick up.
He scanned the area, as much as he could see since the walls had been lined with lockers, some of them gaping open, some of them without a door, and benches for changing. It looked like an athletic locker room in an inner city somewhere. Brady had seen a lot of those in his growing up years in the south.
“I think it’s safe. Let’s quietly enter.”
As he pushed on the doors, it was apparent there was a chain going through the handles and it was padlocked shut. “Dammit.”
John tried prying bolt cutters between the doors, but there wasn’t enough clearance.
Fredo stepped forward and brought out a small flash device from his kit, pasting it to the door handle on their side.
“I’m going to set this off with a remote switch. You guys walk back about thirty feet please, hold your ears, and turn around.” Everyone immediately obeyed his command.
After the blast, which reverberated throughout the tunnel, expanding and sounding much louder than it really was, the doors fell onto their side, and they were able to walk through. Armando and Brady were the first to enter, Armando with his semi, and Brady with his SIG. One by one, the team abandoned their carts and filed out, searching the whole warehouse space. There were windows to the outside, which indicated it was raining. The sounds of the water running over the metal roofing of the building made it easier to maneuver and probably helped mask the blast from anyone listening on the outside.
“Now that’s what I call Big Rain,” mumbled John.
Brady attempted to hail Enemario and Carter. He got a welcome return.
