Page 36 of Dangerous Protocol

She had a deep disdain for the nation’s capital and didn’t like being anywhere near it. Though she respected the significance and importance of history and its monuments, her respect did not carry over to the “slimy, back-biting, lizard-like politicians” who worked there. Her words.

“None taken.” Jeffrey was forced to deal with them and didn’t disagree with her assessment.

Once the ivy and stray branches and twigs were cleared away, they got a good look at the steel door. It was rusted and corroding along the bottom edge, and the raised, copper, star-shaped accents had patinaed to a mossy shade of green. A bulky, rusted chain with an equally rusted padlock had been strung across the door and looped through steel rings drilled into the concrete on either side.

The opening to the lock had rusted to a point they couldn’t pick it, so Andi searched around for a fallen branch. She found one about the diameter of her armand finagled it down through the chain. She wedged the bottom end of the branch against the door, put a booted foot on the concrete, and levered the branch downward until the chain snapped and fell at their feet.

“Voila.” She used her foot to push aside the chain, tossed the branch, and brushed her hands on her pants.

Mason yanked the door open, and there was a loud groan from the long-neglected hinges. What was left of the bottom crumbled as it carved a swath through the dirt.

There were about four feet between the doorway and the top step. Two big chunks of concrete from the wall sat right in front of the stairs, blocking the entrance to the tunnel.

“Wolf and Andi, you get that one.” Jeffrey pointed at one of the chunks and then the other. “Mason and I will clear this one.”

Grunts and other sounds of exertion filled the small space as they hefted the concrete out of the way.

Jeffrey checked the time on his Luminox Nighthawk tactical watch.

“A minute forty-two seconds behind schedule,” he said. “NVGs on.”

They all lowered the night-vision goggles down in front of their eyes, flipped a switch, and their surroundings were plunged into varying shades of green.

Jeffrey tapped his earpiece. “We’re entering the tunnel.”

“Roger that.” Viking spoke barely above a whisper so as not to give away his position on the roof of a nearby office building.

From where he was, he would have eyes on the north side of the building and the circular drive at the front.

“Good luck.” Calliope was perched high in an oak tree on the opposite side of the embassy compound from Viking. She had oversight of the rear entrance driveway and the south side of the compound.

“Let’s go.” Jeffrey led them down into the tunnel, and they were immediately plunged into darkness.

“Dark as shit down here,” Andi muttered.

She was behind Jeffrey, followed by Wolf and then Mason, who covered their six.

“NVGs are no help.” Jeffrey reached up and lifted them away from his face. “Switch to flashlights.”

They all did the same and clicked on their small, tactical flashlights. Their size was deceptive—each one emitted 4200 lumens of bright, white light that flooded the tunnel and gave them their first good look.

It was only about five feet wide and maybe seven feet high, with a dirt floor and concrete walls and ceiling. Jeffrey raised his flashlight and shined it down the tunnel. Caged light bulbs were mounted near the ceiling at about ten-foot intervals. None of them were on, so he assumed the power had been cut to thislocation.

Cobwebs hung down and water dripped from random spots overhead. Just at the edge of the light, they caught a glimpse of some kind of critter scurrying away amid loud squeaks of protest, obviously unhappy with the invasion of its space.

They started jogging. Their boots splashed in random puddles and their gear rattled as they headed toward their destination. The deeper into the dark they traveled, the damper and colder it became. With each step, the stench of mold and mildew grew to a near intolerable level.

“There.” Jeffrey pointed his flashlight.

About twenty feet away was a door like the one outside but shorter and in slightly better shape. They increased their pace and stopped to examine their ingress point.

“Looks like the only thing securing it is the deadbolt above the doorknob.” Wolf narrowed the beam of his flashlight, leaned forward and shined it into the lock. Then he moved the light to the sliver of space between the door and the jamb. He dragged the beam slowly up the seam, across the top of the door, then down the other side.

“No wires.” He reached into one of the many pockets on his vest, tugged out a lockpick tool, and fed it into the lock. He maneuvered it around, and theclickwhen it disengaged the locking mechanism sounded loud in the tunnel.

“We’re entering the basement,” Jeffrey informed their snipers.

“Roger that,” was Viking’s standard response.

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