When You're Sleeping, page 17
"Where are we going?" Sheryl whispered, her grip on Finn's arm tightening with each cautious step.
"There's a tunnel that leads out to the coast," Amelia answered, her voice barely audible. "We'll find a safe place for you there."
"Wh-what will happen to those men?" Kate asked, glancing nervously back at the room they had just escaped from.
"They won't be going anywhere anytime soon," Finn assured her, recalling the tight knots he had secured around their captors' wrists and ankles. "But we can't afford to waste time. There might be others. We need to keep moving."
"Right," Sheryl nodded, taking a shaky breath as she seemingly tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. But she seemed unsure of something, as if she were questioning an important issue in her mind.
The trio continued their journey back through the cellar, the air growing colder with each turn they took. Their footsteps echoed off the damp walls, creating an eerie soundtrack to their escape. Finn's thoughts raced ahead, trying to anticipate any potential obstacles or threats that might lie in wait.
"Almost at the tunnel," Amelia whispered, a hint of relief in her voice as they neared the exit. But just as they were about to reach it, the unmistakable sound of footsteps reverberated through the darkness behind them.
The damp air in the cellar of St Martins Castle clung to their skin with a cold embrace. Finn glanced at Amelia, her fiery red hair glinting in the dim light, as they stood beside the woman they had just saved. Her breathing was erratic, but she seemed relieved to have been found.
"Hey," Finn said gently, his voice softening as he addressed the woman. "Sheryl, what happened to you?"
"It's a blur," she replied, her voice shaking slightly. "I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. They bring girls here and make them do things."
Amelia's brow furrowed in concern. "Do you know who's running this smuggling ring? Who's responsible for all this?"
Sheryl shook her head regretfully. "Some old guy. They always referred to him as 'the Boss.' But I don't know his name."
Finn's attention shifted from Sheryl to the floor above them, his heightened senses picking up the faintest sound of movement. He could feel the danger approaching, and it sent a shiver down his spine. "We need to get out of here now," he whispered urgently.
"The tunnel entrance must be near," Amelia whispered. "Just a little further."
The three of them moved in the only direction that could possibly lead them to safety. As they hurried along, Sheryl suddenly stopped in her tracks. The issue she had been mulling over now revealed itself. "Wait, we can't leave. There are other women here. We can't abandon them!"
Finn looked into Sheryl's eyes, seeing the fear and regret within them. His heart sank. He couldn't go. But he had a terrible feeling if he stayed, he'd never see sunlight again.
"Alright," Finn said, his voice steady. "We'll find a way to help them, I promise."
Finn knew he needed to focus on the task at hand – rescuing the other captive women and putting an end to this smuggling ring. But as they crept through the shadows of St Martins Castle, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.
As the trio moved cautiously through the dimly lit cellar, Finn couldn't help but notice the way Sheryl hugged her arms tightly around herself. The woman's gaze darted from corner to corner, as if expecting danger to emerge at any moment.
"Did one of the women manage to escape recently?" Finn asked, keeping his voice low.
Sheryl's eyes widened, and she nodded. "Yes, my friend Diane. But they..." She paused, choking back a sob. "They told me they caught her and killed her."
Finn knew now the identity of the third body on the riverbank.
Amelia placed a comforting hand on Sheryl's shoulder, but her eyes never left the surroundings, scanning for threats. "We're going to get you all out of here safely, but we need to be smart about this."
"We should all leave together," Amelia suggested. "Find help outside and come back with reinforcements."
"We can't leave the other women to end up like Diane," Sheryl sobbed.
Finn shook his head, remembering that Mulberry was already on his way with backup.
"There's the tunnel!" Amelia whispered. "We made it."
But Finn stopped at the entrance. He surveyed the area, trying to piece together the layout of the castle in his mind. His thoughts raced as he considered their options, knowing that time was rapidly slipping away.
Amelia's eyes flashed with frustration as she glanced between Finn and the trembling Sheryl. "You're not leaving with us, are you, Finn?" she said, her voice edgy with concern.
Finn sighed, running a hand through his blond hair, feeling the dampness of sweat on his scalp. "Amelia, I can't just walk away knowing these women are still in danger. What if one of them gets killed while we're escaping through the tunnels? I can't live with that."
"Then what's the plan?" Amelia shot back, worry etching lines into her normally smooth brow. "To stumble around in the dark until you get shot?"
"Look," Finn said firmly, his expression resolute. "You know I'm right.
Amelia looked at Finn. Her expression grave. For a moment, Finn thought he saw a tear glistening in her eye.
"You better get going," Finn said. "Get Sheryl out of here."
As Amelia took Sheryl's hand, guiding her towards the tunnel entrance, Finn couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that settled in his chest. He knew he was making the right choice, but that didn't make it any easier to watch Amelia venture towards the darkness with Sheryl. He felt like it might be the last time he would ever see Amelia again.
"Finn," Amelia called out, her voice soft and uncertain as she hesitated at the edge of the tunnel.
They stared across the darkness to each other, and to Finn it was as if that moment was infinity, stretching out before him. An infinity that he couldn't bear to tolerate any longer.
At the sound of his name, Finn's rushed over to her, concern etched on his face. Amelia looked up at him, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The danger lurking around them, the weight of their mission – it all vanished as their eyes met.
"Amelia?" Finn asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Please, Finn... promise me you'll come back in one piece," she implored, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"Hey," he replied, trying to inject some reassurance into his tone. "I've faced worse situations than this, remember? I'll be fine."
As he spoke, he held Amelia firmly and then leaned in and pressed his lips gently to hers, the softest of touches filled with hope and fear. Finn felt a surge of emotion sweep through him, a heady mix of determination and vulnerability. They touched foreheads, sharing a moment of connection and understanding that transcended words.
"Thank you for lying about being in tougher scrapes," Amelia whispered, the faintest hint of a smile playing on her lips.
With one last lingering look, Amelia turned away and disappeared into the tunnel with Sheryl, leaving Finn alone in the cellar.
His mind was filled with a flurry of emotions. The kiss had meant so much to him. In a world that had constantly beaten him down, Finn realized that Amelia was the one person, the one thing in his life that was truly raising him up. The kiss had come out of nowhere. He didn't know what it meant for them. It could, after all, have been a goodbye. If that was it, then Finn was glad to have known that feeling just once.
Finn's mind then turned to what Amelia had told him before about "cursed days", about how she felt some days were an omen waiting to be fulfilled. He hoped she was wrong about that, and that this day would end in triumph, not death. Finn wondered if he had done the right thing, letting Amelia go. He couldn't protect her. But he had a duty to protect the innocent. That had to take president, even over his partner. He knew Amelia would have done the same.
Squaring his shoulders and surveying the dimly lit hallway before him. Finn could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, sharpening his senses and steeling his resolve. He had only felt experienced that feeling once before – the feeling of facing almost certain death in the line of duty – and it was when he saved Nancy Milligan from the serial killer Max Vilne back in the US. He had gotten lucky that time, but Finn felt in his bones that his luck had run out.
If it had, he'd still give it his best shot.
Taking a deep breath, Finn walked warily into the shadows, each step measured and deliberate. His keen eyes scanned every corner, searching for any sign of movement or threat. The air was heavy, laden with the scent of damp and decay, clinging to him like a shroud as he delved deeper into the labyrinth.
As he moved forward, Finn's thoughts raced, playing out countless scenarios in his mind. He knew that every second counted, that lives hung in the balance – including Amelia's. It was this knowledge that drove him onward, propelling him through the darkness with a single-minded determination. He would not let the women in that place face a terrible fate, not without a damned good fight.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Finn's boots made a soft crunching sound in the damp earth as he cautiously navigated the dimly lit underground cellar of St Martins Castle. The air was thick with the scent of mold and age, causing him to shiver involuntarily as memories of Amelia's fiery red hair and warm smile flashed through his mind. He clenched his fists at his sides, determination burning within him like a smoldering fire.
Images of the four dead women that had been found so far seared across his mind. He was going to do everything he could to make sure others weren't added to that grim tally.
"I'll find you," he whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible amid the distant dripping of water on stone.
As he pushed forward, the narrow tunnel opened up into a wider corridor lined with heavy wooden doors. His heart raced in anticipation; he could feel it deep in his bones that the captive women were close by. Easing open one of the doors just enough to peek inside, Finn strained to hear any telltale sounds of their presence.
"Is anyone there?" he whispered urgently, wincing as his voice seemed to echo throughout the chamber.
"Who's there?" came a trembling response from behind the nearest door.
"My name's Finn. I'm here to help you. Just stay calm and keep quiet, alright?" he replied, his eyes darting between the doors, trying to gauge where each voice was coming from. He looked at the keys in his hand that he had taken from one of the guards earlier.
"One of these has to fit."
Footsteps sounded.
"More footsteps?" Finn said to himself. "This place is busier than Times Square."
"Please hurry," another voice whispered, her fear palpable even through the hushed tones.
"Stay strong. I promise I'll get you out of here," he reassured them, his brows furrowing in concentration as he plotted their escape.
"Take a deep breath," he instructed them, his voice barely audible. "When this door is opened and I give the signal, we're going to move quickly and quietly. Stay close to me, and we'll make it out of here."
"Okay," came a unified chorus of whispers, their voices trembling with a mix of fear and hope.
"Alright, get ready," Finn said trying several keys in the door lock,
But it was too late.
The footsteps grew louder, causing Finn to snap out of his momentary reverie. He darted behind a stack of wooden crates, pressing his back against the rough surface as he watched four armed men escort three women bound in ropes up the dimly lit corridor. They never gave away Finn's presence, and that made it even more heartbreaking for Finn. He had to find a weapon if he was to have any chance.
"Keep it moving," one of the men growled, prodding one of the women with the barrel of his gun. She stumbled forward, her brown hair cascading over her face, but not enough to mask the tears in her eyes.
Finn's heart clenched at the sight of her, followed by a surge of adrenaline that propelled him into action. Keeping close to the shadows, he trailed the group as they ascended a secret staircase hidden behind an unassuming bookshelf. The narrow steps creaked under their weight, Finn wincing internally with each groan of aged wood.
At the top of the staircase, a lavishly decorated room awaited them, its walls adorned with ceremonial weapons and gleaming daggers. Several suits of antiquated suits of gleaming armor were stood alongside the walls and tapestries like ghostly sentinels. Finn slipped behind a large tapestry depicting a fierce battle scene, his eyes never leaving the women as they were pushed to the center of the room. Finn looked around at his options. He had to think fast.
At the head of the lush red room sat an old decrepit man with balding long white hair and a wispy white beard. He had a cane in his hand and looked like he was in his last years. But his eyes were dark and menacing.
"Boss, we've got 'em all except one," one of the armed men announced, a smug grin plastered on his face. “I think she's lost down here somewhere.”
"Good work," the old man replied from his high-backed chair, his voice like gravel mixed with ice. "We'll be relocating soon, so make sure everything is in order. I'll send some backup to look for the missing girl. She won't get far."
"Should we still deliver these... goods?" the same thug asked, gesturing toward the captive women with a twisted smirk.
"Dispose of them before we move. They've become more trouble than they're worth," Boss said coldly, his words sending chills down Finn's spine.
"Understood, Boss," the man replied, nodding eagerly.
One of the women began to cry, but the other two remained stoically detached from their impending deaths.
Finn's mind raced as he processed the implications of the old man's decision. He knew he couldn't let these innocent women be killed, but how could he rescue them without putting their lives in even greater danger? A plan began to take shape in his thoughts, one that hinged on stealth and surprise. He looked to the weapons adorned on the walls and the suits of armor, relics of ancient warfare that taunted him.
"Boss," another man interrupted, "Should we still go back down there and keep sealing the tunnels?"
"Yes, we'll need those tunnels sealed tight before we go. I don't want the law snooping around them in case something is left behind by accident," the old man sniped.
"Got it." The thug turned away and barked orders to the other men, who began to disperse throughout the room.
Finn's gaze fell upon two gleaming daggers hanging on the wall nearest to him. He couldn't help but be drawn to their intricate designs and razor-sharp edges. The possibilities they could offer for a potential rescue set his mind racing.
"Are we clear on the plan?" Boss asked, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.
"Crystal, Boss," one of the men responded.
Suddenly, another man entered the room. He was tall, his hair graying on both sides. His gaze was battle-hardened, and Finn knew the man from the way he carried himself, immediately. It was the shooter in the woods and, more than likely, the killer. A man with expert military skills who could pierce a victim's liver with a knife and leave no trace of himself. He carried an air of invincibility about him.
"Boss," he said, nodding and stopping before the old man.
"Good. Bryant, I want you to oversee the operation and make sure those tunnels are sealed tight. We can't afford any loose ends, no mistakes this time!"
"Understood, Boss," Bryant replied, his voice betraying no emotion.
As the men dispersed to carry out their orders, Finn weighed his options. He knew that time was running out, and with each passing moment, the women's lives hung in the balance. He had to act fast. Surprise was his only advantage, until suddenly, Boss's chilling words broke the silence.
"By the way, Bryant," Boss said casually, "seems like we have an uninvited guest hiding behind that tapestry over there."
Finn felt a jolt of surprise shoot through his veins, his heart pounding even harder now as the blood rushed in his ears. He cursed himself for letting his guard down.
"Guess it's now or never," he thought, gripping the fabric of the tapestry tightly in his hand, preparing to leap out and face whatever consequences awaited him.
"Enough hiding," Finn muttered under his breath. In one fluid motion, he stepped out from behind the tapestry, eyes locked on Boss, a fierce determination in his gaze.
"Surprise," Finn said. "Kissogram for Mr Boss."
Finn knew he had probably cracked his last joke. The four armed guards and Bryant turned to face him, raising their weapons, with Finn in their sights.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Finn stood his ground in the plush room, its walls adorned with an array of ancient weapons and imposing suits of armor. He could feel the weight of the tension in the air as he faced down four guards, Bryant - the cold-blooded killer - and the elderly mastermind sitting in a regal chair, The Boss. Three captive women huddled together nearby.
"Special Agent Finn Wright," Boss said with a sharp, thin voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you, however brief this meeting will be. You must think me an idiot. Do you not think I have hidden cameras all over this castle? It was the first thing I had done after my brother's death, and I inherited the place."
"Quite the collection you have here," Finn said, forcing a wry smile. "I'm talking about the weapons and the suits of armor, by the way. That's all fine, it turns out collecting people isn't though. But let's cut to the chase. You know me, and I think I know you. Boss really is a self-aggrandizing name, so I'll just call you Drake Keatings, uncle to Edward, Joseline, and Charles." Finn paused for a moment, letting the name hang in the air. "I started to connect the dots when Charles kept saying that his 'Uncle' would take care of things. I wondered how someone could so easily get their relatives out of trouble. A crime boss, perhaps?"
The old man stared at Finn without any hint of fear or surprise. "Well, Mr. Wright, your reputation precedes you. You are correct, I am Drake Keatings. But that doesn't change the fact that you're out of your depth."
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