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“Long story. Trust me, I spoke to him and the others right before the Ringer snatched me. They’re after Emit. Besides, they’re still in here, right? Why would they blow themselves up?”
He handed her the vest. “Put this on.” She did as instructed, and accepted the pistol he shoved at her. He sized up the man’s boots and confiscated them. He settled the automatic weapon over his chest and grabbed her arm. “I’m sure they have an escape route. The van must be parked at an exit that’s not on the maps, or they have some other mode of transportation waiting for them in the quarry. Lydia is bait to draw our team inside, and then they’re going to blow this place.”
She didn’t have time for more questions as he snatched the watch off the man’s wrist, then took his cigarette pack and lighter, and guided her the way the two of them had entered. “Moe, we can’t leave her.”
“If we stay, we die, and so does our team. There’s something fishy with all of this and our only hope is to get to Trace and the others before they descend on this location to rescue her.”
“I’m telling you, Romalov doesn’t want her. He wants…” Her brain turned to molasses. She couldn’t quite figure out what the endgame was. “If RING was hired to abduct Emit, why kill our team?”
“To stop us from coming after them. They can make a clean escape if they kill us.” He took the lead, grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind him as he ran. His other carried the boots, but he kept checking over his shoulder, not wanting to take time to put them on. She staggered and he caught her, keeping her from falling. “How’s the head?”
“Throbbing. My vision is sketchy, too, and this dim lighting doesn’t help.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her so her feet barely touched the ground. “Is the sat phone still viable?”
“He took the butt of his gun to it. Destroyed the walkies, too.”
“Fucker.”
A ding came from the wristwatch. He slowed, reading the lighted screen.
“What is it?”
“They wanna know what’s taking him so long. He should have reached them by now. We don’t have much time before they discover him.”
He paused long enough to type a reply. Maybe that would slow them down. Parker leaned against a wall, her stomach rolling. The pistol felt heavy in her hand, her fingers struggling to grip it. She checked the cartridge—seven bullets. The chamber held one. Flipping on the safety so she didn’t accidentally shoot Moe or herself, she stuck it in her waistband and patted the pockets of the vest. All were full. She began inventorying their contents. Moe finished and motioned for her to start moving again. She held out a cell phone. “Look.”
He stuffed his pockets with a few sticks of dynamite. “Awesome. Come on.”
“Those won’t work,” she told him. “The maximum shelf life of nitroglycerin-based dynamite is a year from the date of manufacture under good storage conditions.”
“These are fresh. That’s how I know Romalov intends to blow this place. If they were as old as the mine, they would weep nitroglycerin and I sure as hell wouldn’t touch them.”
“You’re pretty smart, you know that?”
“I’ve had some experience with this shit.”
Sounded like there was more to that story but her feet were dragging and the buzzing noise filled her ears again. She wasn’t going to make it much farther, even with the exit in sight.
“This is booby trapped,” Moe told her, pointing to wires running between the boards. Far behind them, they heard voices, footsteps. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”
He shoved his feet into the boots and kicked the lower board, sending it flying. He tore down the wire, causing a loud clattering chain reaction behind them. “Come. Quickly.”
She ducked under the top section, his hand a guiding weight on her arm. The sun made her squint as they emerged, and she staggered once more, her vision whiting out.
Moe gave her a gentle shove. “Head for the perimeter.”
“Where are you going?”
He pulled out a stick of dynamite with an intact blasting cap and the lighter, flashing a grin. “Creating a distraction.”
She moved as fast as she could but speed was relative, and Moe caught up to her a moment later, lifting her as he sprinted across the open expanse.
The only cover was the bulldozer, and that wouldn’t hide them for long, even with the impending blast. She thought he might head for the trailer, which also seemed a poor idea, but then realized he was taking her to the hill.
“The horses are gone,” she told him. “He chased them away.”
“Knew I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance.” He kept them moving and she had to lean on him. “I hope he has a hell of a headache.”
