Page 30 of Belgian Betrayal

“Time to go,” Catya said and led the way, moving quickly on her hands and knees.

Chapter 8

Fearghas’s knees took a beating as he followed Catya through the dark crawl space connecting her apartment with the other side of the church basement. The wood ceiling over her room quickly ended, becoming a cool stone passage barely big enough for a man his size to crawl through. His back scraped against stone, forcing him to hunker down in several places.

Whenever Catya slowed, Fearghas bumped into her and Atkins bumped into him. Without a light, Fearghas had to trust Catya to guide them through.

The banging sounds dissipated the further away they moved from the door beneath the stairs.

How far did the tunnel extend? They had to have gone the length of the church, if not further, when Fearghas bumped into Catya for the sixth time.

She scooted around, grunting softly until she sat with her back to him. “Brace me,” she said softly.

Fearghas leaned his shoulder into her back as she strained against him, pushing something with her feet.

Stone scraped against stone, and a beam of light crept through a crack.

The more Catya pushed, the more light shone through until the stone block she shoved dropped with a thump onto the soft earth below, revealing sunshine and what appeared to be a garden.

Catya crept up to the edge of the tunnel and peered out. Moments later, she dropped to the ground and disappeared from Fearghas’s line of sight.

His pulse picked up. He didn’t like it when he couldn’t see her. With killers loose in the city, anything could happen.

He hurried toward the sunlight, looked out and spotted Catya moving through the garden to a gate in the far corner.

Too big to turn in the tight space to ease gracefully out of the tunnel, Fearghas had to dive out headfirst.

When his hands hit the ground, he tucked, rolled and came up on his feet. Without waiting for Atkins, Fearghas sprinted through the garden toward Catya.

She stood at the garden gate, peering through a gap at the walkway and the canal beyond. “There’s a boat with an enclosed cabin tied to that dock,” she said. “If we take the boat, we can get closer to the train station in less time than if we walk through the streets.”

Fearghas studied the old boat. Based on its wooden decks and hull, it had been constructed in the middle of the last century. Despite its age, it was in good shape, the wood gleaming with a fresh coat of varnish. “Think we can get it started? I doubt her owner left the keys inside.”

Catya’s lips curled. “If the engine is in working condition, I can start it.”

The woman never ceased to amaze Fearghas with her vast array of talents. He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers.

When he started to straighten, she reached up, cupped the back of his neck and drew him down for a deeper version of his kiss. Though brief, it rocked him, making him want to crush her in his arms and continue kissing her, danger be damned!

When Catya broke away, he didn’t try to stop her. They had to get to the train station before the men knocking down Catya’s apartment door realized they were headed that way.

Fearghas would bet people were monitoring the train station in case Catya and Atkins made a run for it.

Catya swung her backpack from her shoulders, pulled out a baseball cap and shoved her hair up into it. She slid sunglasses over her nose and settled the backpack over her shoulders again.

She ran her glance over the two men. She nodded toward Atkins. “You should be all right.” Her attention turned to Fearghas, her brow wrinkling. “You need a hat. Your red hair is a beacon.”

Atkins pulled the cap he’d worn earlier out of his back pocket. “He can use this. The hood on my jacket is enough for me.”

Fearghas took the proffered hat and settled it on his head.

With one last glance at Fearghas and Atkins, she said, “Wait here until I get the engine running.”

Before either man could protest, Catya turned to the garden gate, looked both ways and then stepped out onto the cobblestone walkway.

She quickly crossed to the dock and jumped into the boat.

Fearghas held his breath for what felt like an eternity. When the roar of a marine engine erupted and settled into a blub-blub-blub purr, he released the breath. “Ready?” he asked the man beside him.

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