Chapter 4 - THE SERVICE TUNNEL
They reached the radiology intersection just as the stairwell door crashed open behind them.
Caleb shoved Abigail around the corner.
A gunshot cracked through the hallway.
The bullet shattered a wall-mounted fire extinguisher cabinet.
Glass exploded across the floor.
"Keep moving!"
Abigail ran.
Another shot struck the ceiling.
Caleb turned long enough to see Warren emerge from the stairwell with his pistol raised.
Behind him was a second man wearing a maintenance jacket and a dark baseball cap.
The man was older.
Broad-shouldered.
He carried no visible weapon, but Caleb knew immediately that he was not maintenance staff.
His posture was wrong.
Too balanced.
Too alert.
Warren fired again.
Caleb ducked behind a supply cart.
"Daniel!"
Warren stopped at the corner.
"Walk away, Preston."
"You threatened my wife."
"Your wife inserted herself into military business."
"She treated a patient."
"She chose a side."
Abigail reached the next doorway and turned back.
"Caleb!"
"Go!"
The older man grabbed Warren's shoulder.
"Enough."
His voice matched the one from the stairwell.
"We leave."
Warren jerked away.
"He'll follow us."
"Then give him a reason not to."
The older man looked toward Abigail.
Caleb saw the calculation immediately.
He stepped into the open before Warren could move.
"Hey."
Warren's weapon swung toward him.
Caleb threw the metal tray from the cart.
It struck Warren's forearm.
The gun fired into the floor.
Caleb closed the distance.
He drove his shoulder into Warren's chest and slammed him against the wall.
The pistol fell.
The older man moved faster than Abigail expected.
He struck Caleb behind the ear with a heavy flashlight.
Caleb staggered.
Warren shoved him away.
Abigail grabbed the nearest thing she could find.
A rolling IV pole.
She swung it into the older man's knees.
He cursed and stumbled.
"Abby!"
Caleb recovered and kicked Warren's pistol beneath a locked medication cabinet.
Warren punched Caleb in the ribs.
Caleb absorbed the blow and answered with one short strike to the sternum.
Warren folded.
The older man seized Abigail's IV pole and ripped it from her hands.
Then he drew a knife.
Caleb stopped.
The blade rested against Abigail's throat.
"That's enough."
The older man's voice was calm.
Too calm.
Caleb's hands opened.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who knows exactly who you used to be."
"That doesn't narrow it down."
Warren straightened, coughing.
"His name is Victor Dane."
Dane glared at him.
"Idiot."
Caleb's expression shifted.
"Victor Dane."
Abigail heard recognition.
"You know him?"
Caleb nodded once.
"Former intelligence contractor."
Dane smiled.
"Still reading old files?"
"You disappeared after a procurement investigation."
"Disappeared is such a dramatic word."
"You stole money meant for field equipment."
Dane pressed the blade closer to Abigail's skin.
"Allegedly."
Warren picked up the false statement from where it had fallen out of his pocket.
Abigail realized there were two copies.
The one security held was not the only one.
Warren waved it.
"She signs this, we leave."
Caleb looked at Abigail.
She understood immediately.
He wanted time.
"Give me a pen," she said.
Warren blinked.
"What?"
"You want my signature."
She kept her voice steady despite the knife at her throat.
"Give me a pen."
Warren searched his jacket.
Caleb shifted one foot.
Dane noticed.
"Don't."
Caleb stopped.
Warren handed Abigail a pen.
"Sign."
Abigail took the paper.
Her hands trembled deliberately.
She made them tremble more.
"I need something to write on."
"Use the wall."
"I'm not signing a legal statement on a wall."
Warren laughed in disbelief.
"You're worried about penmanship?"
"I'm worried about everything."
Dane's eyes moved toward Warren for half a second.
Caleb struck.
He grabbed Dane's knife wrist.
Abigail dropped to her knees.
Dane twisted with trained speed.
The blade sliced Caleb's forearm.
Blood appeared instantly.
Abigail shouted.
Caleb ignored it.
He drove Dane into the wall.
Warren lunged for the pistol beneath the cabinet.
Abigail kicked the medication cart directly into his path.
He crashed over it.
The cart slammed into the floor.
Plastic medication bins scattered everywhere.
Dane elbowed Caleb in the jaw and broke free.
"Move!"
He hauled Warren toward the maintenance door at the end of the hall.
Warren grabbed the statement.
They disappeared through the door.
Caleb followed.
Abigail caught his jacket.
"You're bleeding."
"Later."
"No."
"Abby."
She grabbed his arm and wrapped gauze around the cut with brutal efficiency.
"Thirty seconds."
Caleb allowed it.
"Twenty."
"You don't negotiate with your nurse."
He almost smiled.
"Yes, ma'am."
She tied the bandage tight.
"Done."
They opened the maintenance door.
A narrow concrete stairwell descended beneath the hospital.
At the bottom was a service tunnel Abigail had never seen.
Pipes ran along the ceiling.
Steam drifted from an old valve.
The tunnel stretched beneath the complex toward the parking structures and utility buildings.
"How long has this been here?" Caleb asked.
"Probably since the original hospital was built."
They moved cautiously.
Ahead, a metal door slammed.
Caleb accelerated.
Abigail followed.
They reached a junction.
Three tunnels split in different directions.
No signs.
No footsteps.
Caleb crouched and touched the damp concrete.
A muddy footprint pointed left.
"This way."
They followed it.
The tunnel ended at a loading area beneath the west parking garage.
A gray SUV was idling near the ramp.
Dane was behind the wheel.
Warren climbed into the passenger seat.
Caleb ran toward them.
Dane accelerated.
The SUV shot up the ramp and disappeared into the rain.
Caleb memorized the license plate.
Abigail was already calling security.
"Gray SUV, Virginia plate seven-three-Kilo-Romeo-nine-two, exiting west garage."
A voice answered through static.
"Copy."
Caleb looked at her.
"You got all that?"
"I'm a nurse."
"Apparently that includes surveillance."
"Apparently being married to you includes ridiculous hobbies."
For one second, they were themselves again.
Then headlights appeared at the opposite end of the loading dock.
A black sedan rolled slowly toward them.
Caleb stepped in front of Abigail.
The vehicle stopped.
The driver's door opened.
A man in a dark naval officer's coat stepped out.
Silver hair.
Controlled posture.
Caleb recognized him immediately.
Commander Marcus Hale.
Hale looked at Caleb's bloody arm.
Then at Abigail.
Then toward the ramp where Warren had escaped.
"You two have created quite a mess."
Abigail stared at him.
"We created it?"
Hale sighed.
"Mrs. Preston, I strongly suggest you lower your voice."
Caleb stepped closer.
"I strongly suggest you explain why your name is on a photograph of a restrained trainee."
Hale's expression did not change.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"We found photographs."
"Then give them to Naval Criminal Investigative Service."
"Security has them."
Hale's eyes flicked toward the hospital.
A tiny movement.
Enough.
Caleb saw it.
"You didn't know that."
Hale looked back at him.
"Know what?"
"Where the evidence was."
Abigail suddenly understood why Caleb had made security record the handoff.
He had been expecting the chain of custody to matter.
Hale adjusted his coat.
"You are exhausted and emotional."
"My wife had a gun against her head."
"Which is why you should let professionals handle this."
"Are you one of the professionals?"
Hale's mouth tightened.
"Careful, Senior Chief."
Caleb stared at him.
"I haven't been Senior Chief in six years."
"Some titles stick."
Police sirens grew louder outside.
Hale looked toward the sound.
"You should go back inside."
Abigail stepped forward.
"Where is Lucas Bell?"
Hale's face remained smooth.
"Recovering."
"Where?"
"That is protected information."
"I'm one of his treating nurses."
"Not anymore."
"He was supposed to be transferred to Portsmouth Naval Medical Center."
Hale said nothing.
Abigail's pulse quickened.
"Was he transferred?"
Hale glanced at Caleb.
"Take your wife upstairs."
Caleb did not move.
"Answer her."
Hale opened the sedan door.
"Good night."
Abigail reached for the handle before he could close it.
"Where is Lucas?"
Hale looked directly into her eyes.
For the first time, the calm disappeared.
"You should have let that boy go back to training."
Then he pulled the door shut.
The sedan drove away.
Abigail stood in the rain-swept garage entrance, staring after it.
Caleb was silent beside her.
Finally she whispered the question neither of them wanted to ask.
"Caleb, what if Lucas never made it to Portsmouth?"
He looked toward the hospital.
May you like
"Then somebody has been lying about a lot more than bruises."
