Chapter 30: Artificial Light

5:20 p.m.

Somewhere outside Carbondale, PA

It was no use; Duncan knew he couldn't hide his condition much longer. He glanced down at his trembling hand. Soon, the tremors would work their way up his arm and radiate out along his body. When that happened, he usually was able to retire to his room with the excuse that he needed to rest his eyes for a moment. Dear sweet Nora never questioned. She tried to give her father a wide berth of space. The space in the tunnel, however, was quite tight. Soon enough, Flint was going to question. Duncan had to hand it to the Army man; he was astute. Of that, Duncan harbored no doubts. The question then became how to exit gracefully without raising Flint's suspicions. Duncan could already feel Flint's interest bore into the back of his head. The woman, Alison, on the other hand, Duncan knew he didn't have to worry much about her. She was barely holding it together. Duncan purposefully kept a slower pace so she didn't have the added pressure of trying to keep up. He even tried to stop a few times to give her a break, but every time he turned around, Flint was there waving him on. Duncan supposed Flint was right. If they did stop, there was no guarantee that Alison would be able to start up again. If they stopped, Duncan reluctantly admitted to himself, there was no guarantee he'd be able to start up again either. The only one in any condition was Flint. And Flint thought the group should keep moving, so that's what they did.

It was an arduous trek. Duncan paused, wiping the sweat accumulating on his forehead and stinging his eyes. The other factor hampering their progress was the tunnel. It offered only enough room to crawl forward on your stomach, with your arms doing the majority of the work. Duncan felt like a trout fighting against the current to spawn. He started up again. He would get the two soldiers to the surface if it killed him, which it looked like it just might. He had no optimism left that he would see the light of day. Probably better that way. Things were hitting the fan and his hopes of giving Nora and the kids something better went to the wayside the moment the first explosion went off. It was foolish to trust Cobra. The war should have taught him better. Still . . .

Duncan was brought back to the here and now when the tunnel's floor dropped a few feet and he rolled into a new section. It was wider and open, the emergency lights in better working order. That pervasive sense of slowly being crushed to death fell away. Duncan knew exactly where they were now. Just a few feet more would bring them to another junction. If they went right, they'd hook up with an above airshaft to the surface. It would be a straight ladder climb. Duncan checked behind him to make sure Flint and Alison were still following. They were there, Flint assisting Alison over the drop. Duncan motioned forward and Flint gave a nod, waving Duncan on. There was concern plastered all over the Army man's face. Duncan could see it as clear as anything. It wasn't a matter of not leaving a man behind. Flint's single-mindedness made sense to Duncan now. Flint couldn't leave Alison behind, ever.

Duncan hovered by the next junction, waiting for the others to catch up. They weren't going to like the next part. Beyond the greenish glow provided by the florescent lighting of the current tunnel was the absence of anything. The next section wasn't meant for men. It was purely for air circulation. There were no lights of any kind. It would be about half a football field of the blackest night. There was no choice. The way back to the elevator shaft was impossibly long and Duncan didn't even know if it was still standing, given all the bangs and booms echoing through the corridors. Each percussive sound was a jarring kick to the heart. It would be worse once they left the comfort provided by the artificial light. Instinctive fear could take over at any minute and cloud their judgment with irrational thoughts. Panic could set in. They simply had to fight through the darkness and win. It was the only way.

Duncan shouted back. "Aye, it's going to get dark. Just stick close. It won't be long." With a gulp, Duncan veered right, locking in the memory of light. He could hear the scuffle made by Flint's knees scraping against the dirt. Less distinct was Alison's irregular breathing. Less than panting, slightly labored, Duncan feared the bald doctor might have gotten to her. His warning to the Commander hadn't been enough. And in that moment, Duncan thought of his son-in-law. His warnings hadn't helped him either.

As much as Duncan wanted to forget that day, he never let himself. When Duncan felt his memory getting fuzzy, he would scrunch up his eyes until he could summon Ryan's image on the watery static screen created between his semi-open eyelids. It was odd to picture Ryan now without that. Yet there Ryan was, standing just a few feet away from Duncan, shoulders squared, that cocksure look on his face. Ryan had made his choice. He would take five men with him, and that group wouldn't include Duncan. Ryan knew Duncan didn't have the strength to pull the men out should it come to that and his father-in-law didn't have the speed to run, if it came to that. If Ryan faced possible death, Duncan faced suicide. Ryan, stubborn Ryan, couldn't have that on his hands. But now it was all on Duncan's. In the silent argument that took place between Ryan and Duncan before Ryan disappeared forever into the tunnels, Duncan begged him to stay, for Nora. Ryan's sense of duty was stronger. The young man couldn't face Nora and his boys if he ran away a coward when it mattered most.

As angry as Duncan was, he'd never begrudge Ryan for his choice. Ryan was a good kid, a solid kid. While Duncan's buddies would bemoan the sorry state of their children's marital affairs, Duncan remained ever proud. Nora had chosen a good man. Ryan reminded Duncan of one of the Rangers he met prior to the landing at Omaha Beach. What was his name? Duncan cursed the spotty memory of old age. What was his name? Joe! Joe the Brooklyn Ranger. Joe didn't make it off the beach, although he alone was responsible for many that did. Joe and Ryan had the same look about them. Old souls Duncan's mom would say. Looking into their eyes, you could tell that they'd walked the earth before. Both were the type that would lead men through the worst. Both were boys who should have had the chance to become the men, husbands, and fathers—and grandfathers—who would shape the world. Ryan should have had a chance to play football with the twins, to watch Geoff graduate, to suffer through a tea party with Una. He never even had the chance to know Una existed. That was the worse crime of all.

Duncan leaned his face down, rubbing a watering eye against the dusty shirt covering his shoulder. He allowed a mental shrug, so it was coming to this? He was not born old, but he barely remembered a time when he wasn't. Duncan always ran with an older crowd. Surely he was young at the age of fifteen—nineteen according to his documentation—when he was fighting for his life. And then it was gone. Youth lost. The experience of war never leaves one. The memories are constant and now that Duncan was fading, the experiences were etched into his heart and mind forever. A day didn't go by without memories of some hellish event where he lost a comrade and a voice hushed in a split second. It could be a face in the crowd, a shadow darkening the sky as a cloud passed over the sun that triggered a memory. And even though it wasn't war, Ryan was placed with all of the rest of them—the men Duncan would never forget.

With a sigh of relief, Ryan's ghost faded, pushed away by the soft breeze of cool, sweet air flowing down the airshaft. Duncan had done it; he successfully navigated the trio through the darkness. The wind ruffled the dirty matted hair plastered to the top of his head. Duncan lifted his face up to breathe in deep. He could hear the faint roar of the wind whipping around the screened cap on top. He could hear more. He could hear his fate. He stopped, grunting as Flint crashed into him.

"Aye, this will lead you up. It's a climb, but it's straight and true. At the top is a vent cap. Just give it a bit with your shoulder and it will pop open."

Flint crowded next to Duncan, allowing the fresh air to fill his lungs and revive him. His tactical mind started to run through the scenarios. "You'll go first, then Jaye, and I'll take up the rear." Flint scratched once at that worn spot nestled next to his hairline. If any of them should slip, he'd be there to break the fall and could push them both up if necessary. "Yep. That's the best way."

"I'm not going with you."

"What!" Flint rubbed at his eyes. "Yes you are."

"No, there are others trapped. I can hear them. I have to go back." Duncan edged away, putting space between Flint and him.

Flint strained his neck, listening for sounds he could never hear. "It's just the wind." He shook his head. "I don't hear anything." He rose up to his knees. "I'll give you a boost and you can go first."

Lady Jaye edged her way around Flint. The wind was a welcomed cool caress against her feverish skin. She glanced back and forth at the men volunteering, "I hear them." And then she really listened. Raising a fist to her mouth, she stifled the emotional groundswell brought on by the voices and bit back the cry she desperately wanted to release.

Duncan starred at her. He hadn't realized how close to him she was. He had his confirmation. The bald doctor had gotten to her. "Don't listen to them." He pleaded with Flint. "Take her up, now."

"Oh no. You're coming if I have to carry you up. Duncan, you're in no shape to rescue anyone. Let the authorities handle it. You did what you could."

"No." Duncan pushed back Flint, grabbing Lady Jaye by the shoulders. She had a wild look in her eyes. "Don't listen to them, you hear me." His face was so close to hers that his nose brushed against hers. She shrank from his intense glare. He gave her a hard shake. "This doesn't concern you. You don't listen." Duncan pointed behind him. "That one there; you listen to him. He'll get you out."

"But they . . ."

"Aye, no buts. I know what you think they're saying. They're not saying it to you. It's not meant for you." Duncan's voice grew soft. "I know you want to help. These are my lads though. Aye? Just leave them to me because there's something I need you to do." Duncan released his grip on her. He had her full attention now; she wasn't going to go fleeing off and get herself killed. He reached around his neck, pulling out a long chain. He yanked it, breaking the fragile gold. As the metal chain spilled around his fist and dangled against his arm, nestle close to his closed fingers was a small golden cross, gleaming as if lit from within. "I need you to give this to my daughter, Nora. I received this from a very brave man and it's gotten me through a scrap or two. It's for her now. I fear I was always too old and too gruff to be a proper father to her. I met her mother too late, had Nora too late. But Nora's always been with me. She's always been my girl." Duncan turned the cross over in his hand, pointing to the NORA etched into its surface. "You need to make sure she gets this. I don't trust anyone else. Will you do that?"

Lady Jaye held her hand out.

"That's a good girl." Duncan dropped it into her palm. "Listen to Flint. He'll get you out."

Lady Jaye cupped the cross to her chest, nodding once. She dropped it into her chest pocket. "Go," she whispered, "I understand."

Duncan switched spots with her.

"Wait a second, what's going on here?" Flint glanced back and forth between the two. "Would someone mind letting me in on this?"

Lady Jaye came up to Flint, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. She leaned her cheek against his and spoke softly into his ear. "He's not going to make it Dash. He wants a little dignity."

"Oh." Flint wasn't expecting that. He looked at the miner, really seeing him. How could he have failed to notice Duncan's shaking hands? Flint's thoughts had been preoccupied on someone else. In giving the miner his privacy, Flint saw right past him. But Duncan was so strong. He saved Flint from certain death. How could it be? How could Jaye know and he didn't?

Jaye tugged on his shoulder. "Let's go." She patted her pocket once, making sure the cross was still there. She mouthed, "thank you," to Duncan, stood up and started the climb.

Flint made no movement to leave. Duncan was just across from him, a sentry passing off the next shift. The men each lifted a hand and saluted the other. Duncan broke it off first, turned away and allowed the darkness to swallow him whole. He liked Flint. The soldier was a good man. Duncan hoped things worked out for him. Then Duncan heard the voices again. He paused, leaning against a rock wall. Closing his eyes, he saw them now, Ryan and the others, the last ones to save.

Pushing his shoulder against the rusty cap, Flint let out a loud grunt as the metal gave way and popped open. Flint tumbled over the side, landing hard on the ground, the blessed outside ground. Flint blinked his eyes and gazed up at the pastel colors of the sunset. He wasn't too late to see the sun. Rolling over, he reached down and helped Jaye out. She rested in his arms and they both watched for a moment as the pinks faded to purple. "It's beautiful." She was at peace. She saw the sunset with Flint. It was time now for the rest to come. Pushing up into a sitting position, she traced the lines of Flint's face. It looked like the mission might have contributed another one. Her hand paused at the spot just below his hairline. She leaned over and kissed it. "We need to find the others."

Flint knew she was right. It was with a heavy heart that he helped her up and scanned the countryside. The airshaft had deposited them into a wide clearing surrounded by a tall sentinel of trees. Above them the stars were starting to sparkle against a navy backdrop. A lone satellite streaked through the sky. Flint wrapped an arm around Lady Jaye, pulling her close. A silent prayer formed on his lips for the man that gave her back to him. He kissed the top of her head. As he raised his head, he noticed the sharp glow just behind them beyond the trees. Good, they weren't too far. He pointed it out to Jaye. "Can you make it?"

Although she knew she couldn't, she still replied, "Yes."

Flint followed J.T., ducking low as they approached the rumbling helicopter. He shouted to be heard above the roar. "Remember, she said one shot about every two hours. Any early or later won't do any good. I want you there. Make sure they do it."

J.T. popped on a headset, climbing up into the back. "Got it. They won't get anything past me."

Flint looked over the rugged agent and gave him a thumb's up. "That's what I'm counting on."

J.T. winked and turned his attention to the preflight clearance procedure. Flint backed up, holding his arm above his neck, running low to the ground until he was free and clear. No sense in coming all this way only to get his head chopped off by the rotors. Walking through the mine operations, he bobbed and weaved around the gaggles of FBI agents that had overtaken the place. It seemed like there wasn't a building that didn't have yellow tape wrapped around it. The FBI was leaving nothing to chance, not since Zartan managed to evade capture. J.T. said one minute Zartan was there trussed up like a hog for the slaughter, next minute he was gone, no footprints, nothing. J.T. was beating himself up. Flint thought that seeing Ms. Parke through might give J.T. his sense of control back.

Flint smiled, he spotted Lady Jaye leaning back against J.T.'s truck, holding an ice pack to her cheek. He made his way toward her. They were all that was left. Shipwreck had gone off to the Scranton Hospital with Agent Miller after the paramedics had stabilized him. It was funny to Flint, of all the people to bond over the mission, he'd never peg it to be Shipwreck and Miller. The men were swapping stories about their respective goddaughters as the ambulance drove off. Mainframe was currently locked away in the FBI's mobile trailer, fingers flying as he tried to decode the copy of Cobra's system before it blanked out on him. Already FBI agents in Chicago and Dallas were conducting raids on storage sites found encrypted on the hard drive by Mainframe and the geeks. But from what Lady Jaye had heard, there were more. The FBI was going to be busy for a while.

Flint leaned against the truck next to Jaye. She glanced at him and smiled before returning her stare back to the helicopter. Flint could feel the nervous energy emanate off of her. He reached down, squeezing her hand. "Don't worry. J.T. will make sure Ms. Parke gets the treatment. No one's getting past him."

"I know. I just can't feel like it's done until they take off."

Flint nodded; he understood the sentiment. It really wouldn't be over until that bird was high in the sky on its way to DC. He brought her hand up to his lips, confirming a subtle feeling. "Jaye, your hand, it's shaking."

She withdrew it, wrapping her arm tight around her body. "Just feeling chilly."

Flint drew a gloved hand across her brow. "Then why are you sweating?"

She batted his hand away. "Please Flint, it's glistening. Horses sweat, men perspire, women glisten. I thought you poet types knew better."

"Come on Ali, don't play me." He stepped in front of her.

She careened her neck trying to see around him. "Flint, I want to see it take off."

"Why are you so anxious to see it go?"

She gave him a slight push. "I just am." She flashed him a hurt look. "I think I went through enough to deserve to see the mission completed."

Now she was sulking. Flint didn't like it when she sulked. Fair was fair though. "Fine." He took a step to the side. "Please observe." Kicking a rock on the ground, he felt the wind whip up around him and send the dust into little eddies as the chopper lifted off the ground. He stole a look at her. She was oblivious to him; her eyes were glued to the bird. Then she closed her eyes and let out a breath of air. Her whole body slumped down as if the invisible cords holding it up had been cut. Jaye fell back into the truck and slid down to the ground.

"Jaye!" Flint dropped to his knees, lifting her chin up toward him. Damn! He mentally kicked himself. He knew something was off and didn't do anything about it. Ripping off a glove, he placed a palm against her forehead, jumping a little at the heat radiating off her head. She was burning up. Now her whole body was starting to tremble and her breathing was coming out in long ragged gasps.

"God damn you Jaye! What did you do?" He wanted to slap her, to shake her, to do something, anything so she knew how he felt. She might as well have ripped his heart out and stomped on it for how he felt now. Betrayed. That was the word, betrayed. She betrayed his trust. Fine, he knew what to do about that. Suddenly, her interest in J.T.'s exit made a lot more sense. He sprang to his feet, making double time to J.T.'s communication array. Grabbing the headphones, he yelled into the mike, "J.T., J.T. come back. Mindbender got Jaye."

"No!" The microphone was pulled from Flint's hands. Jaye stood there, trembling and swaying, tears rolling down her face. J.T.'s worried voice cut through the space between them. She held the microphone to her lips. "Never mind J.T. Just some miscommunication." The microphone fell out of her hand, crashing to the rocky ground. Her glare cut through to Flint's very essence. "I had to Flint. It was our duty. The Commander got me with whatever Mindbender concocted." She pointed to her arm. "But I couldn't save myself over her. I've got some time. She doesn't have any left. I didn't have time to make you understand even though I shouldn't have to." She stood for a moment before crying out and collapsing.

Flint dove down, gathering her up in his arms, calling out for help. He cradled her head against his chest. She was shaking so hard. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She needed to preserve her strength. "Shh, baby, shh. I've got you." He began to rock back and forth. "Medic!" he screamed again. God damn where were these people? "Come on, come on, stay with me. I understand Ali, I understand." There was such fright in her eyes. These couldn't be his last words to her. "You did good babe, you did good. I'll find a way. . ."

"Flint . . ." She reached a hand up, touching his cheek. "Flint, I . . ." Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head as her control over her body faded, leaving her unconscious.

"Ali! No! Medic!" Flint's eyes darted around as everything came falling in a heap around him. "Arrrrrrrrr!" He lifted his head up to the sky. "Medic!" He squinted against the harsh floodlights the FBI set up all around the perimeter. Shapes and shadows merged until they were sunspots in his field of vision. Flint couldn't see anything—it was too bright for the night. The voices then followed, coming at him from all around. Hands lifted at him, lifted at her. He fought against them, trying to clutch her to his chest. They couldn't have her. No one would take her away. No one until Mainframe's voice rose above the din and into his ear.