Typhoon Fury (Oregon Files 12)

Once he was clear of the entrance and speeding down the road, he fished the detonator from his pocket and pushed the button.

• • •

LINC HAD HIS FOOT mashed to the floor as the Humvee rocketed into the tunnel. Then the light at the end of the tunnel vanished.

A split second later, the roar of an explosion rattled the Humvee, and Linc stood on the brakes. He came to a stop, and a roiling cloud of dust soon enveloped him.

He activated his comm link. “More bad news, Chairman.”

“Don’t tell me that explosion was you.”

“Almost. Tagaan blew the front entrance. We’re stuck in here.”

“Not necessarily,” the Chairman said. “But, first, Eddie, Raven, and Beth are pinned down. We can give them an advantage with the night vision goggles for at least a few minutes before dawn comes. Remember the diesel generator?”

Linc did indeed. He threw the Humvee in reverse. “I’ll help contribute to the mayhem.”

He backed out of the tunnel. When he was in the clear, he had a good view of the huge generator and the diesel tanker feeding it fuel.

He picked up his M4 and loaded another grenade into the launcher. He rammed it closed and fired at the tanker.

When the grenade hit the truck, it went up with a satisfying boom of thunder. A second later, the generator next to it blew up as well, and all the electric lights in the cavern went out.

• • •

“GOOD JOB, LINC,” Juan said over the radio. “I’ll meet you where Eddie and the others are.”

He stopped at the center stalagmite pillar and called Gomez.

“This is the Chairman,” Juan said. “We need immediate extraction.”

“Gotcha. Where?”

“Inside the cavern. We’re locked in.”

“Sorry, Chairman, did you say ‘inside the cavern’?” Gomez asked with disbelief.

“There’s a hole in the

roof. Plenty big for you. We’ll be on the side of the cave that isn’t burning.”

“Sure! Landing inside a cave? I do it all the time. This should be interesting. See you soon.”

The gunshots were more sporadic now, so killing the electricity must have slowed down the attackers. The only remaining light was from the warehouse and truck fires. Juan was about to join the fray when he spotted a beaten-up plastic tube lying on the ground.

The Picasso.

He was bending to pick it up when he was tackled from behind. The night vision goggles were knocked from his head, the assault rifle went flying. Juan rolled to avoid being pinned to the ground. He leapt up into a fighting stance and was confronted with a bloodied and bruised man. It had to be Dolap. It looked like he’d been caught on the fringes of the warehouse explosion.

Dolap, backlit by the fire, didn’t bother looking for the assault rifle. He drew a wicked-looking knife the size of a bayonet and launched himself at Juan.

Juan fell back, as if off balance, and put his prosthetic leg up in a defensive posture as Dolap landed on him, reaching out with the knife until the blade was only inches from Juan’s neck. Juan gripped Dolap’s wrist and pushed with his foot against Dolap’s chest, but he couldn’t budge the powerfully built man. The knife edged closer.

Juan reached to his combat leg and found the hidden trigger that controlled the single-shot slug in his heel.

Just as he felt the blade digging into his skin, he activated the secret gun.

The shotgun shell blasted from his artificial foot and into Dolap’s chest. It must have pierced his heart, although it took a moment for the brain to register. Dolap went limp and toppled to the ground.