Page 13 of Hard to Kill

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Kellen hit the shelf five feet below the edge of the precipice and landed with an “Oomph!” on the prone form of General Slater.

He cushioned her fall—and grunted.

She put her hand over his mouth, rolled off and shoved him toward the rock overhang at the inner edge of the shelf.

He was a soldier; he knew there was a time to fight and a time to hide. When the other guy held the gun, he hid.

They huddled together and listened as Major Aimes moved to the edge of the abyss. His flashlight roamed the black rock where they had landed, paused at the smear of blood at the edge where the next ledge broke off and swept beyond, into the darkness.

Kellen watched as the light roamed about, looking for anyplace where they could possibly be safe.

Aimes chuckled softly. “Yes,” he said softly, and his footsteps echoed as he walked toward the excavated entrance.

General Slater was ready to vault back into the cave.

Kellen held him back.

The footsteps faded, and a muffled boom echoed back and forth across the rock walls.

Suddenly, the darkness was total.

With a small explosive, Aimes had sealed the entrance to the cave once more.

General Slater sighed loudly and said into the darkness, “You know, I was never particularly a fan of small, dark places. I never thought I’d die in one, though. Why did you stop me?”

Kellen felt like laughing, but she figured that was the mild hysteria sinking in. “You’re not going to die here, sir.”

“No?”

“No.” All this time, it had been Major Aimes. Kellen was surprised how relieved she felt, even in this dark cave, that it hadn’t been Slater who had sold her out. “Aimes...it was Aimes. And he was always so nondescript.”

Slater guffawed. “Don’t beat around the bush, Captain.Annoyingis the word you’re looking for. The man was annoying, though he seemed to be a fine soldier before he got that little taste of power.”

Kellen retrieved a flashlight from her backpack, turned it on and placed it on the ground.

General Slater looked eerie in the blue-white light, a little battered, with a bruise forming on his forehead, a cut on his hand and scrapes on his knuckles.

“You’re injured.” Slater noted the blood trickling down Kellen’s arm.

“At the last moment, I turned away from his shot. It’s only a scratch.” Hurt like a son of a bitch, though. “I fell on the other shoulder, so that’s good. But if you could wrap the injury for me...”

Slater helped her pull her shirt off her arm, and then, with a small knife retrieved from his belt, he cut a long strip from his undershirt. “You seem to know, so tell me—what exactly just happened?”

She wished she could make herself sound less gullible. But... No way, so she might as well explain in plain words. “I thought the moment you got the painting, you were going to do away with me, so I held back information I’d learned from some of the code. I knew that the precipice was a fake.” She paused to give her pronouncement a proper weight. “I also know that the Rubens is a forgery.”

Slater stopped wrapping Kellen’s arm and was stunned silent. Then he chuckled deeply. “That poor art historian. I’ve never seen anyone more excited.” He sobered and finished tying off his bandage. “Although I guess we’re not going to get out to see the punch line of that particular joke. Are we?”

With his help, she donned her shirt again. “Sir, I have one or two more tricks up my sleeve.” She moved her arm. “As it were.”

“The way out?”

“That. And hopefully—the real treasure.”

“I’d be happy to get out of here alive.” General Slater cleared his throat. “But supposing I was interested—what kind of treasure?”

She laughed at his dry tone. “Chester Roy wasn’t specific about what it was, but it’s at the far end of the cave. And it is thefarend. According to the map—”

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