"If we go up, we're leading them right to the others. Xavier knows his way around here. He thinks there's a hidden pa.s.sage up there. The arrow pointed down, and we may be their only chance for escape."

"It was an anomaly. Shadow play." A shot hit the tufo tufo above them. Dust rained down. above them. Dust rained down.

"From everything I've heard on this di Sangro guy, he was far too intelligent to let some shadow get in the way. The skull and crossbones is upside-down, so it makes sense the arrow would clarify."

He fired off a round, then, "How sure are you about this?"

"You have a better idea?"

She heard him taking in a deep breath, as though coming to a weighty decision. "We go down."

G.o.d, let me be right, she thought.

He fired again.

Answering gunshots. Sydney pressed herself into the wall, then leaned out, fired a couple more rounds.

"Ready?" Griffin said.

She looked over to where she thought he was on the opposite side of the tunnel entrance, imagining she could see him in the dark. "Yeah."

"Cover me, wait a second, then follow." Griffin fired twice, then ran into the main cavern.

Sydney fired. Again and again. Figured she had about seven rounds left. Someone or several someones were running down the main entrance. She waited a heartbeat, jumped out, fired a volley, then ran like h.e.l.l.

Griffin flashed a light on then off. He was perched halfway into the entrance of the cistern in the floor, one hand gripping the ladder anch.o.r.ed to the tufo tufo. He dared the light again, then tossed her a rope, looped at one end. "Put this around your middle and pull tight."

She tucked her gun into her waistband, grabbed the rope, slipped it on, pulled. "I already hate this idea."

Griffin was heading down. "If you fall, try not to take me with you."

"I really, really hate this idea."

"You said that," he replied, then disappeared from view. The light from his headlamp cast an eerie glow from the depths of the cistern. It was just enough light to let her see the flexible-sided ladder, which, in her mind, didn't look st.u.r.dy enough for one person, let alone two at once.

Shouts from the tunnel entrance, one saying, "This way!" gave her all the impetus she needed to get on the ladder and start down. She sat on the ledge, grabbed the top of the ladder, then felt for a rung with her foot as she let herself over.

Griffin called up, "Keep your body close to the ladder, and your hands no higher than your face."

She took the first step down, trying to ignore the vibration of the cables that reminded her of all the nothingness between her and the bottom of the cistern. The d.a.m.ned thing held Griffin, surely it could hold her.

Foot down, hand down. Foot down, hand down. The ladder swayed beneath her weight, and she glanced up, saw an even brighter light sweeping over the top of the cistern entrance.

"They're going down!" someone shouted.

The word down down echoed through the chamber below them. echoed through the chamber below them.

Griffin no doubt heard it. "I'm turning off my lamp."

The world around her went black.

Her arms were wrapped around the ladder, and she clung tightly as it swayed in the darkness. Afraid to move, afraid to breathe. The dark petrified her. "I can't do this."

"Keep going," Griffin said.

"I can't."

"I really don't want to die down here."

And neither did she. Do it. Do it. Do it Do it. Do it. Do it. She lowered one foot, found the next rung, even in the dark. She could do this. She could. Hand down, foot down.

"There!"

Sydney looked up, was blinded by the light.

She felt the rope around her waist tighten.

"Take my hand." And then she felt Griffin's strong grasp as he took her hand in his. "Feel for the ledge with your foot."

"I can't see."

"Trust me."

"I don't even trust myself." But she stuck her foot out, tapped, felt the ground beneath her feet, allowed him to pull her toward him.

A shot cracked through the cavern, echoed off the walls around them.

Griffin pushed her to the ground, away from the edge. Whoever was after them would have to climb down the ladder to get them, unless she and Griffin made it easy by standing out toward the edge of the ledge.

Something they weren't about to do.

"Come on out, we'll spare your lives."

Laughter, then another voice saying, "I have a much better idea."

"The ladder," she cried, realizing the men were pulling it up and out of the cistern.

Griffin held her arm. "Stay back," he whispered. The ladder sc.r.a.ped against the ledge, then the mouth of the cistern.

"Leave them," she heard from above. "Let's go after the others up in the tunnel. After all, they know what we want. To follow the skull and crossbones."

"We come back in a few years, and make crossbones out of the two down there?"

More laughter, and the sound of receding footsteps. Then a shout followed by several shots fired.

And then nothing.

Griffin sat side-by-side with Fitzpatrick, the darkness surrounding them completely, the quiet almost deafening. The cold started to seep in, now that the adrenaline rush had left, and he felt Sydney shivering next to him. It had been at least ten minutes since Adami's men-no, not Adami's men-whoever they were had pulled up the ladder, leaving them down here on the ledge of the cistern. And seemingly an eternity since they'd heard the gunshots that could only mean one thing. The others were dead. And even if a rescue team arrived, how would anyone know where to find them?

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Fine..." Her breathing was strained, but at least she wasn't shivering anymore. "I'm fine."

"Let's hope the others made it out safely." His words rang hollow. He'd lost two friends, Alessandra and Tasha, because he'd let his guard down, and he'd failed to rescue Tex. And now the professor and Xavier and Alfredo-never mind the mess he and Sydney were sitting in the midst of. He knew better than to let outsiders in. He should never have let Sydney leave the States. He should have marched her off the plane the moment he saw her walk on. "Maybe they're getting help now."

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"November. Giustino said you had a hard time with November. What happened?"

He didn't answer right away, wasn't sure he wanted to. Still, she deserved to know. "Two years ago, I was on a mission with another operative. I did something I shouldn't have. I gave up the lead. We were ambushed, and that agent was killed."

"Because of a decision you made or a decision he made?"

"She."

"She...Your girlfriend?"

"My wife."

"Your-I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"We hadn't been together in a while. She'd just filed for divorce."

He could tell she didn't know what to say. And who would? Especially now, with history seeming to repeat itself. Ambushed.

He leaned back against his pack, closed his eyes, could almost see his wife's face. Almost. "I still loved her. I think that's why I let her take over, just to show her that I-" He took a deep breath, tried to shake off the anger, the hurt, the helplessness. She was pregnant. Three months, according to the autopsy. They hadn't slept together in far longer than that, and now, to this day, he wondered who the father was, if he even knew what he'd lost..."Dumas found us. She was dead. I would have been if not for him."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

They sat there for a couple of minutes, not saying anything after that, and then Sydney said, "I'm sorry about everything."

"For what?"

"For Tex. For leading us into this hole. For everything."

"It's my fault. I'm the one who let this happen from the very beginning."

"How so?"

"I knew the moment I walked into Tasha's office, right after she called you to arrange that dinner date, that something was wrong. She was jumpy. Not like herself at all. Just like you said she was at dinner. I should have done all the things you thought about. Talked to her, found out what was wrong."

She sat up straight, drew away from him. Silence reigned. Then, after several seconds, "You knew she had called me?"

"I just said that."

"You knew knew?"

He tried to figure out what had changed, what he'd said. "We discussed this at the safe house. I told you about Tasha when you asked-"

"I can't believe this."

"Believe what?"

"Do you realize how long I blamed myself for her death? And Tex? The guilt I've carried around for the two of them?"

"Now you know how I feel."

She stiffened. "You played me."

"We needed you."

"You could have asked."

"We needed your skills, without without the Bureau knowing the particulars." the Bureau knowing the particulars."

"I would have done anything for her."

"Would you have? Even had you known it was regarding a black op?"

She was silent. He suspected not. And perhaps curiosity finally got the better of her, as she asked, "Tasha was part of ATLAS?"

"Yes."

"A government agent?"

"Yes."

"Alessandra?"

"No. But her father was aware of our operations. Dumas was the voice of the Vatican when it came to ATLAS, and reported to her father. Not Alessandra's part. Her father wasn't aware that she knew ATLAS even existed. She was the one who insisted her father not be told. She was adamant."

"But you're going to tell him?"

"When we figure out who killed her, yes."

But in the silence that followed, he wondered if he'd ever get the chance. "You're a G.o.dd.a.m.ned son of a b.i.t.c.h," Sydney said.

"I think we've established that."

"No. We haven't. Nor have we established that if you'd just told me in the beginning, Tasha might have come forward with what she was hiding. Which means I might have stayed home, because she wouldn't be dead, and I wouldn't have spent all my time searching for the ident.i.ty of a victim you already knew the ident.i.ty of."