Kingston Kidnappings (What Happens In Vegas Book 3) by Matt Lincoln (great book club books .txt) 📗

mine slowly. Part of me ached to rush inside to find Amber, but I knew that running full speed into the enemy’s domain with basically zero visibility was a fool’s errand. We moved our lights around, illuminating as much as we could as we went further and further underground. Unlike the scorching desert air outside, the inside of the mine was bitingly cold.

Every once in a while, we’d spot a small tunnel branching off along one of the walls of the mine.

“We should keep heading straight forward,” Junior whispered as I shined my light into one of the passages. “We can double back once we get to the end, but if we start wandering now, we might actually get lost.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I glanced down at my phone. “I’ve lost signal. We’re too deep underground.” If Wallace tried to contact us, he wouldn’t be able to. Likewise, we wouldn’t be able to call for help from down here either.

Just as that thought was sinking in, I heard the sound of a gunshot. The mine was narrow, and my ears were ringing from the loud noise. I heard a grunt and a thump somewhere behind me.

“I’m hit,” Junior groaned, and I swung my phone around wildly as I attempted to find the shooter. At last, I caught a flash of movement to my right. I swung around just as the suspect fired off another shot and felt a rush of heat pass just inches from my shoulder. I charged toward the man and shoved his arm up just as he fired again. The bullet struck the roof of the mine, and both of us were showered in bits of dirt and rock.

I used my free hand to punch the man across the face with as much force as I could. He stumbled, dazed by the blow. I didn’t relent and punched him twice more. He fell to the ground, and I dropped to a crouch beside him.

“Where’s Amber?” I yelled as I shook him roughly by the collar. The man coughed up a bit of blood and attempted to shove me away. I punched him again and repeated my question.

“Charlie, stop,” Junior tried to pull me off of the suspect. “He’s down.”

The man was indeed cowering on the floor. His eyes were unfocused, and he seemed a bit dazed.

“Damn,” I muttered angrily to myself. I’d lost my temper again.

“Get him in cuffs,” Junior instructed. “We need to ask him if there are any more hostiles in here.”

Junior was clutching his left arm with his right hand. There was blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt, and his left arm hung limply by his side.

I made quick work of restraining the suspect. By now, he’d gotten his wits about him again and was glaring venomously at me.

“Are there any other group members down here?” I asked.

He turned away and refused to answer.

“We sure are pretty deep underground,” Junior mused. “No one would think twice if we told them a suspect just happened to be killed during a struggle, especially once they saw the state my arm was in.”

“They might not even be able to recover the body,” I joined in. “There are a lot of winding passages down here, after all.”

The suspect was staring daggers at us but eventually sighed in defeat.

“There’s no one else,” he snarled.

“Where are the kids?” I asked.

“Down that way,” he nodded toward the end of the mine. “There’s an open room at the very end. The door’s blocked by an old mine cart.”

“She’d better be there,” I growled as I gripped him by the arm. “Lead the way.”

The man led us down the dark tunnel, and I kept an iron-clad grip on his arm the entire time. Eventually, we made it to a door blocked by a rusty mine cart, just as the suspect said there would be. Junior shoved the mine cart out of the way as best he could with just one arm.

“You first,” I commanded. If he was lying, and there were other men waiting on the other side of that door, he’d be the first across the threshold. I reached past him to push the door open with my hand.

There was a mishmash of lamps placed around the room, and in the dim light, I could see the faces of several children turn to look at me as the door creaked open. A few of them had been chasing each other while holding flashlights, but they came to a dead stop to look up at me as I shoved the suspect roughly into the room.

I scanned the faces of the children desperately until I found hers.

“Uncle Charlie!” Amber cried out joyfully as she got up from the ground where she’d been drawing in the dirt with a stick.

“I’ve got him,” Junior grunted as he took hold of the suspect with his good hand. I didn’t hesitate a moment longer and rushed forward to scoop Amber into my arms.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I choked out, relief flooding through me as I held her close. I allowed myself just a few seconds before I held her at arm’s length to check her over for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No,” Amber shook her head. “I’m just hungry. Can we go home now? I’m tired of being here.”

“Yeah,” I smiled at her. “We’re going home now. I just have to take care of some things first, okay?” I was glad to see that she seemed relatively unharmed and, honestly, unafraid of what was going on around her.

I reluctantly let go of her so I could examine the rest of the kids. I counted ten, including Amber. Most of them appeared to be around her age.

I turned to tear into the suspect for what he’d done, but before I could open my mouth, I heard the thundering sound of several sets of footfalls coming toward us. I locked eyes with Junior, who shoved the suspect down against the wall before drawing his gun. I ushered all