Black Sun

Of that group, only Danielle and Yuri were awake. It was still early in the evening but the others had been in the prison a long time and were not well in any case. Sleep was a necessity for them, and perhaps a respite from their predicament.

Danielle hadn’t reached that point yet and promised herself she never would. She would keep her mind sharp, her spirit strong, and her body as healthy as possible. And when the chance came, she would act, decisively.

She glanced over at Yuri.

Without moving his head, Yuri turned his eyes to her, as if he knew she was watching. If Petrov was right the boy never really slept.

She smiled.

He smiled back.

She blinked and he did the same. She wondered if he was unconsciously mimicking her or perhaps even playing.

Suddenly his head jerked a bit, like he’d heard something. His eyes turned and focused on the corridor.

She listened for any sound, but could hear nothing but the patter of rain. Not even the whining of the elevator that Yuri had detected before.

Yuri sat up, looking down the corridor. He pushed aside his thin blanket and stood cautiously.

Danielle waved him over. “Come here,” she said.

He hesitated and then moved her way and climbed up to sit beside her.

She thought of the few Russian words she knew, but could come up with nothing that might form a coherent question to the child. She brushed the hair out of his eyes and he relaxed for a moment before stiffening again.

He pointed to the ground. “Down,” he said, speaking Russian and pointing at the floor. “Down.”

The word he used meant “down” or “floor,” but she didn’t know what that meant in the bigger picture.

She thought of waking Petrov, but before she could move, she heard a noise, a rapid little ticking almost like a drumming of fingernails on a hard surface.

It started and then stopped and then started again. And then through the darkness she saw something scamper around the edge of the cell door.

For a second she thought it was a rat. It would certainly not be the first they’d seen down here, but even in the gloom of the dank prison she could see that its movements were too precise and its stillness too complete once it stopped.

Yuri pointed at it insistently. Despite the fact that it was ten feet away from them on the floor, he repeatedly pushed an outstretched palm toward the object, as if he was trying to shun it or force it back.

“Machine,” he said. “Machine.”

“It’s okay,” Danielle told him.

Gently she eased his hand back to his side and then stepped off the shelf and moved toward the object.

It was indeed a machine, one that she recognized.

Her heart began to pound. The spider was NRI equipment. It meant help had arrived from somewhere.

Knowing it carried a microphone, she began relaying details of the situation to whoever was controlling it.

“There are seven prisoners down here,” she whispered. “No guards on this level, no cameras, either, but I’ve gone through every inch of this place and there are no exits except the elevator. Do you copy?”

The little spider pivoted up and down on its front legs, in a sort of nodding gesture.

Danielle looked around and then back at the device. “Are you on a surveillance run?”

The spider moved side to side.

“So this is a rescue attempt?”

The spider nodded yes. And then, after a pause, it continued nodding yes, bowing and rising repeatedly.

After three or four identical moves it stopped and Danielle looked at the thing dumbfounded. What the hell was the operator trying to tell her?

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

The little spider nodded three more times and then stopped. She shrugged, and almost simultaneously, a thunderous explosion rang out.

The shock wave knocked her off her feet. A cloud of dust surged throughout the old brig.

Coughing, she looked up. Yuri had grabbed her arm and was pulling her. The others in the cell were awake and stu

“What happened?” the old man asked.

She heard the muted wail of some alarm high above. An earthquake or fire alarm, she guessed.

She got back to her feet just as a figure came in through the swirling dust.

“Are you all right?” the new arrival said.

The voice was strangely familiar, but in a distant way. And then as the person crouched beside her she recognized him.

“Hawker? My God, what are you doing here?”

“Getting you out of trouble,” he said. “It’s what I do best.”

It was the dry sense of humor she remembered. After the way things had ended in Brazil, and especially after her own departure from the institute, she’d sadly guessed that she would never see him again. Certainly not in a situation like this.

He dropped down and began digging into his backpack.

“I was telling you to get down, before the explosion,” he said.

“Suddenly it makes sense.”

A new set of alarms began ringing and she guessed that the incursion had been detected.

“We need to get moving,” she said.

The old man and the woman were standing around her; Yuri was tugging on her sleeve.

“Where do we get out?” the old man said.

“At the front of the room,” Hawker said. “By the gunports. Go across the rocks and swim to the south; you’ll have the current and the tide with you. But go now if you want to make it.”

The two prisoners moved quickly and disappeared.

Hawker looked around. “I thought you said there were seven.”

She pointed to the cell across the corridor. Zhou and the other man she’d beaten cowered there.

“What happened to them?”

“We had a little disagreement,” she said. “They’re kind of my bitches now.”

“Someone’s got to be king of the yard,” he said. “I should have figured it would be you.”

“Yeah,” she said, glad to be talking with him, but thinking they could catch up later. “Can we get the hell out of here?”

“Not just yet.” He looked at Yuri. “Grab the kid.”

“You know about him?”

“He’s part of the deal,” Hawker said. “Sort of.”

There was something in his voice that concerned her, but before she could say anything, Hawker moved to the gate that separated them from the elevator. He stuck a shaped charge of C-4 to the lock and stepped back.

Yuri began to yell. It was unintelligible wailing, but he covered one ear with a hand and pointed toward the elevator.

“Look out!” she shouted.

The elevator doors flew open and a wave of darts came streaking through the air, trailing wires back to some riflelike Taser device. Danielle ducked behind the wall but saw one hit Hawker and his body stiffen, and her immediate thought was, This can’t be happening again.

CHAPTER 18

Hawker felt the sting of the dart hitting his body but he was already moving for cover and even as his muscles wrenched tight he fell behind the stone wall, his chest scraping against it and thus ripping the prong of the Taser out.

Spared the full burst of electricity, he still writhed in pain from the half second of shock.

He rolled over, angry at himself. He’d been waiting for security to come down in the elevator; in fact, he’d been counting on it. But the occupants of the car had doused any light inside it and the screaming Russian kid had distracted him.

He shook his head to clear it and looked around. Danielle was pulling the child into safety behind her with one hand and grabbing the carbine rifle he’d dropped. As she fired down the hall, a man screamed in agony at the far end.

“One down,” Danielle shouted.

A second wave of darts came flying in, which Hawker deflected with his backpack.

He pressed the detonator switch and the C-4 on the gate exploded, flinging it open and taking out the second guard.