“I’m hit!”
He pulled back his jacket and found the wound, just below his left rib cage. A ricochet.
Anderson lost his balance and twisted down onto both knees. He touched the wound, then withdrew his hand. It was covered in blood.
“Shit.”
He was bleeding too fast.
“Where are you?!” Caesare called into his ear.
He tried to catch his breath. “On the other side of the camp. Maybe fifty yards.” He turned and tried to look up the hill before inhaling again. “Juan is trying to get back-”
He stopped again, suddenly overwhelmed by the searing pain in his stomach and back. He struggled to stay on his knees.
“I’m down,” Anderson repeated in a softer voice as he sank to the ground. “I’m down…”
On the opposite side of the pass, near the top of the ridge, Juan reached their base. And in the darkness, he collapsed with relief onto his knees. He fought to catch his breath.
He never noticed the Brazilian soldiers waiting for him.
79
Slowly, John Clay’s eyes opened to find himself kneeling on a cold concrete floor. His arms were outstretched, each tied with a rope, keeping his upper body suspended from something above.
It was the pain in his shoulders that forcibly pulled him back into consciousness. He had no idea how long they had been supporting most of his weight. He rose on his knees, attempting to alleviate the searing agony, and blinked several times to clear his vision.
The place appeared to be a warehouse with concrete walls, matching floor, and wide overhead beams supporting a long metal roof.
He noticed a figure slumped on the floor against a nearby wall. It wasn’t until Clay was finally able to focus that he recognized the body of Jin Tang, the man who’d helped him from Hong Kong. Tang’s dark eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling, while a thick line of blood dried on his face. Both of his feet appeared to be twisted in the wrong directions.
A young Chinese soldier stepped into view and noticed Clay’s open eyes, then he promptly shouted to someone behind him. A few moments later, the image of Li Qin stepped in front of Clay and peered at him curiously.
Clay stared back for a moment before dropping his head. There was a small pool of blood on the floor beneath him. Drops farther out that indicated he had been bleeding from his head somewhere.
Qin crossed his arms and smiled at Clay. His injured hand had now been professionally dressed. “Finally, you’re awake.”
Two more soldiers appeared and stood quietly behind Qin.
“I was afraid at first that they’d killed you.”
Clay opened his mouth to speak and immediately felt a jolt of pain in his jaw. “Lucky me.”
“I guess Navy SEALs come with a certain amount of durability.”
Clay didn’t answer. Instead he simply watched, weakly, as Qin stepped closer, examining him.
“And a sense of humor. Mister John Clay.”
“Where’s Li Na?”
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll get to her. As you can see,” Qin said, stepping to the side and turning to view the body. “We’ve already gotten to your friend, Tang. Unfortunately, he was not as durable. Or as helpful.”
Qin motioned to another soldier who appeared and handed Li Na’s metal case to him. He took it and cracked it open, looking inside. “You’ve come a long way for something so small. But now, as you can see, it’s mine.” He closed the case again. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re upset you lost it. It’s understandable. But you should be happy. Because this case is now your relief. Your salvation.”
Clay’s voice was low. “Yippee.”
Qin placed it on the floor and put his hands behind his back. “Tell me what it is inside, and I’ll make the ending for you…comfortable. If not, we’ll all make this the worst exit you can possibly imagine.”
Clay struggled to focus on Qin through the pain. He tried to raise one of his knees to stand but groaned and slumped back to the floor. His leg was broken.
“I wouldn’t try standing if I were you.” He watched Clay drop his head again. “You have to know that this will be your last day alive. There’s no way back. And if your own death isn’t enough of an incentive for you, let’s not forget our young Li Na.”
Clay closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow as he tried to think through the pain. The man was right. There was no way out. Even if there were, he could barely move. Tang was dead. And Clay had no link back to Borger. Whatever help he might provide Li Na would have to be through his cooperation.
If Qin didn’t understand what was inside the case, he would soon. They would analyze it and figure it out. Unless Qin didn’t want to. Analyzing meant relinquishing the case and its contents to someone else. Which meant they too would find out.