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He was halfway across when Remi’s grip slipped and a yard of rope burned through Sam’s hands as he fought for a hold. As Lazlo’s head went under, Sam’s fingers locked on the cord. He stopped the slippage, sweat beading on his forehead, as he wrapped the rope around his forearm. Remi regained her footing and resumed pulling, but Lazlo’s weight combined with the power of the current presented an almost impossible challenge.

After a few frantic moments, Lazlo broke the surface near them and coughed, his hacking like gunfire in the cave as he fought for breath. Sam and Remi heaved him the rest of the way out of the water and he stared up at them in the gloom like a wet dog. Water dripped from his hair and mustache, lending him the appearance of an emaciated walrus.

Boots clomped from in the passage, and Sam whispered to Lazlo, “Bring the rope and follow me.”

Lazlo pushed himself to his feet, trying to contain his coughing, as Sam tossed the rope aside. Lazlo gathered it quickly and darted after Sam and Remi as they disappeared into the recesses of the elongated cave, following the passage around a natural bend. Sam kept his light off as he felt along the wall, the way burned into his memory from the one quick glance he’d had in his flashlight’s beam.

They didn’t have to wait long. The glow from the islanders’ lights approached from the far reaches of the cave, and Sam signaled for them to stop, once around the bend, so he could peer back and see whether they were being pursued.

The islanders arrived at the riverbank—four or five, by the sound of it. Sam could hear their frustrated voices reverberating in the cave, the angry tone of the leader more animated than those of his men, who sounded subdued. Sam couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he didn’t need a translation as they neared the water—they were going to try to make it across the river.

One of the lights flashed along the bank and stopped at the wet footprints leading to the recess where the Fargos had taken cover. Sam swore under his breath and turned to Remi. “They spotted our trail,” he whispered.

“Think they can make it?”

Sam shook his head. “Not unless they do the same thing I did.”

“Think they’ll figure it out?” Lazlo asked.

“We’ll soon know.”

“They didn’t strike me as particularly bright,” Lazlo said. “And unless I’m mistaken, they’re all high as kites on something. Amped out of their gourds. Did you see their eyes? I don’t think we have to worry about them catching on quickly.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

Sam resumed his vigil. The gunman was pointing at the river with his weapon and having a hurried discussion with one of his men, who looked unconvinced. The gunman barked an instruction and the other man quickly removed his boots and padded toward the river, his bare feet silent on the stone.

He waded into the water up to his knees and, after testing the current, glanced back over his shoulder to the gunman, who made a curt gesture. The hapless man edged in deeper and then went under with a loud splash, sucked down by the current as it strengthened nearer the middle. Sam watched as the others’ lights roamed over the water, but after a few moments there was still no sign of the swimmer. Sam remembered the uncontrollable rush of the relentless undertow that had nearly pulled him to the bottom and shuddered. There was no way anyone could have survived.

He turned back to Remi and Lazlo. “They won’t be trying that again anytime soon. That’s one down.” Sam glanced at the depths of the long connecting cave beyond. “Let’s put some distance between us and the river before they figure out how to get across.”

Sam took the lead and felt his way along the walls until the faint light from the islanders’ flashlights was a memory and

then switched on his lamp and picked up the pace. After several minutes, he stopped, listening. The only sound was their breathing, which filled the silent passageway.

Remi’s eyes met his. “We lost them.”

Sam shook his head. “Not for long. We need to keep moving. Eventually, they’ll figure it out, and I want to be long gone by the time that happens.”

“It’s a bit mad that they’re so determined to get us, isn’t it?” Lazlo asked.

“Looks like we stumbled across their dirty secret and they want to keep us from telling anyone. Can you imagine the uproar if it was known that the rebels have been slaughtering dozens of children and that we have a pretty fair idea where they’re hiding out?”

“There would be an army up here within hours,” Remi said.

“Which may blow our search, but I’d say that’s a foregone conclusion now,” Sam agreed. “Of course we need to get to civilization for any of that to happen, which isn’t as certain.”

“What if this cave system has only one way in?” Lazlo asked in a quiet voice.

“That wouldn’t be good,” Sam said grimly. “Come on. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Remi nodded and glanced back over her shoulder. “Poor Leonid. We’ll have to try to rescue him when we return with the police. Can you imagine what it must be like for him? Stuck somewhere in the dark, nobody around, probably injured . . .”

“Let’s just hope he isn’t too badly hurt.”

“And that he’s smart enough to keep quiet when the bad guys come looking,” Lazlo added.

The caves were connected, comprising a series of chambers created by underground streams, which had carved tunnels between the larger areas. Sam led them into a massive cavern, the ceiling easily thirty feet high, where another smaller river cut along both sides, continuing the erosive process that had been under way for countless millennia.


Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller