With her back against the stalagmite and her hands hidden behind her, she must have slowly—using the fingers of her other hand and the rock’s hard surface—broken through the plaster and worked the cast free. Afterward, she was able to tug her hands through the loose rope. From there, it was just a matter of waiting for the right moment to act.

“I’m sorry,” Christopher said.

“Nothing to be sorry about. She was scary good. But I need a few things: two of the five-second chemical detonators and the first-aid kit.”

As Christopher disappeared into the tunnel, Tucker put on the stolen headset and keyed the radio. “General Kharzin, come in. Are you there?”

There were a few seconds of silence, then a harsh voice answered. “This is Kharzin. I assume I am talking to Tucker Wayne?”

“That’s right. I want to negotiate. We can all leave here with what we want.”

“Which is what?”

“Against my advice, Bukolov wants to make a deal. A trade. Some of the LUCA samples for our lives.”

“He has it then?” Kharzin asked. “He’s found the source?”

“Almost,” he lied. “He’s in the tunnel digging as we speak. He sounds confident of success.”

“Give me a few minutes to consider your offer.”

That was a lie, too.

Tucker needed to teach the Russian a lesson before they could really talk.

Christopher reappeared, carrying the items Tucker had requested. “Thanks. Follow me.”

He regained his feet and hobbled up the tiered steps to the right and dropped into the old Boer foxhole. He moved fifty yards along it. Christopher followed, carrying the supplies.

Once settled, Tucker pointed across the Cathedral to the small red glow, “Do you see the burning flare over there?”

“Barely, but yes.”

“Put your rifle scope on the shaft entrance beyond it and tell me if you see anything.”

With Christopher guarding, Tucker slit open his pant leg around the wound, then ripped open a QuikClot package from the first-aid kit and pressed it to the bullet gouge. He clenched his teeth against the burn and wrapped a pressure bandage around his thigh and knotted it in place.

He then took out the remaining half block of C-4 from his pocket. He divided what was left into two equal pieces. He returned one to his pocket, then shaped the other into a deadly pancake and carefully inserted a chemical detonator in its center. He passed the bomb over to Christopher.

“This half we’ll use to blow the artillery shells.”

“Hold on . . .” Christopher whispered. “I see movement. Two men, I think.”

“Good. I’ll take over. Take the C-4 back to the cavern and wait for me.”

As he left, Tucker lifted his rifle and peered through the scope. A pair of Spetsnaz soldiers crouched at the entrance of the blasted shaft. They were in full body armor, weapons ready. Beyond them, another soldier crept out . . . and another. The last one carried an RPG launcher. An arm waved, preparing for a sweep of the cavern.

As if on cue, Kharzin’s voice came over Tucker’s headset. “Mr. Wayne, I have given your proposal some thought.”

“And?”

“What assurances do I have that you will keep your word?”

“Hmm . . . good question.” Tucker adjusted his aim on the flaming flare, then lifted the crosshairs to where he had hidden the Rover’s gas can. “This is my answer.”

He squeezed the trigger. As the round struck the can, gasoline jetted from the bullet’s holes, ran down to the flaming flare—and ignited. With a whoosh, flames engulfed the back of the Cathedral. The soldiers began screaming. Orange backlit shadows danced on the walls. After a few seconds, the screaming stopped.

Tucker spoke into his headset. “You heard?”

“Yes, I heard.”

Kharzin had to learn this lesson. It was the Russian way. From his prior employment with Bogdan Fedoseev, Tucker knew how the general would respond to the inherent weakness expressed by Tucker’s offer. As expected, he would try to gain the upper hand by force, to test how weak his opponent actually was.

Now he knew.

“General, I’ve had twelve hours to turn this place into a death trap for you and your men. If you want to keep sending your boys in, I’ll be happy to keep killing them. But I don’t think you came with a limitless supply.”

“You set me up.”

Tucker heard a note of respect buried in the outrage.

“Do we have a deal?”

Kharzin hesitated, then sighed. “We have a deal. What are your terms?”

“Let me check Doctor Bukolov’s progress. I’ll get back to you in ten minutes. Cross me again, General, and things will really start to get ugly. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“One last thing. Is Felice Nilsson with you?”

“And if she is?”

“She’s part of the bargain. I want her.”

“Why?”

“Take a guess.”

“Well, as it happens, she’s not with us. She had another assignment. And speaking of personnel, I want Anya returned untouched.”

Tucker heard more than mere professional concern for a colleague in the Russian’s voice. This was a personal matter for the general.

He knew better than to tell the truth.

“That can be arranged,” he said.

“Then we have a deal.”

“Stay by your radio, General.”

Tucker signed off and hopped back down, one painful step at a time.

Though the back of the Cathedral still burned, he dared not leave his rear unguarded. He pressed his forehead to Kane’s. “Sorry, buddy, but I need to ask even more from you.”

Kane wagged his tail.

He pointed to the flames. “HOLD. WATCH.”

The shepherd dropped to his belly and stared across the cavern, ready to watch for any further intrusions.

Ever his guardian.

12:55 A.M.

As Tucker limped back into the cave, Bukolov and Christopher joined him, both clearly wanting to know what the plan was from here.

“Have you secured your samples, Doc?”

“Yes, they’re packed away. What now?”

“I told Kharzin we’re willing to make a deal. We’d trade half of the LUCA samples for our lives.” Bukolov opened his mouth to protest, but Tucker held up a hand. “I’m stalling for time. There are only two ways out of here. One we can’t climb out since I pulled that rope. And the other is crawling with Spetsnaz. So we’re going to have to make a third.”

“How?” Christopher asked.

“Do you remember the first spot we dug—on the ravine wall outside?”

Both men nodded.

Tucker pointed across the cavern. “It’s right on the other side of that wall. I estimate it’s only three or four feet thick . . . mostly soft sandstone.”

Bukolov looked there in dismay. “It would take us hours to dig—”

Tucker pulled the square of C-4 from his pocket. “But only seconds to blast through.”

“Would that work?” Christopher said. “Truly?”

“It’s our only shot.”

So they all set to work. Tucker unfolded and handed Christopher one of the shovels and instructed him to dig a hole four feet off the ground, as deep as he could make it.

As he labored, Tucker prepared the new charge and handed the C-4 patty to Bukolov. “Gently, Doctor. It’s live. Just go stand by Christopher.”

He then collected the first bomb he’d prepared earlier and planted it down the hole among the artillery shells.

With everything in motion, Tucker limped back over to the Cathedral and joined Kane. He put on his headset and keyed the radio. “General, are you there?”

After a few long seconds, he responded. “I am here.”

“Bukolov has the samples.”

“Good news.”

“How many vehicles do you have?”

“Two.”

“We’re going to want one of them.”

“I understand, considering the fate of your original vehicle.” He heard the residual anger in the man’s voice.

So at least his ruse with the Rover had worked.

Tucker asked, “Are both vehicles at the entrance to the cave?”

He pictured the SUV from earlier, parked in the canyon by the back door. As far as the Russian knew, that was the only entrance.