Page 95 of Reset

“What’s the plan?” Lake asked as he watched the teens.

“It’s basic as hell.” Callum ran a hand through his already messy hair. “You go in, mark your path, and send someone back if you need help. We don’t have much in the way of useful equipment, but we have the basics.”

“Maybe we should wait to go down until we have more resources,” Dimitri said. “We don’t know what condition they’re in or what kind of help they’ll need.”

Callum eyed the boys. “What state were they in when you saw them last?”

Le Chat hurried to answer. “Dirty, hungry, thirsty, and the woman had injured feet, so the man gave her his shoes.”

“He doesn’t have any shoes?” Megan narrowed her eyes. “No shoes, no light, no food, and nobody to guide them out. I’m feeling murderous again.”

“You can play with them after we get Ryan and Sarah out of there,” Lake decreed, making the teens back away from Megan.

Meanwhile, Callum bent over and unlaced his Nikes. He handed them to Lake. “I sure as hell don’t need them.”

Le Chat went white when he saw Callum’s state-of-the-art metallic feet. “Le Terminateur,” he whispered.

Callum opened the boot of his rental and unzipped the duffle he’d brought with them. “Flashlights, water bottles, protein bars.” He handed them to his team. “Everything else in here is useless.”

“Got a marker pen or paint?” Dimitri said.

“I bet they do,” Megan pointed at the reprobates.

Without being asked, Le Chat delved into his backpack and handed Dimitri a can of black spray paint.

“I’ll mark our route with LTW,” Dimitri decided.

“LTW?” Megan asked as Lake and Callum groaned.

Dimitri grinned. “It’s the Army Rangers motto—Rangers Lead The Way.”

“It should be WDW. There are two SAS officers here,” Lake said.

Megan reached over and took the can out of Dimitri’s hand. “We’re using MR for Megan rules.” She arched an eyebrow at the men, and there were no objections.

“Time to go,” Callum said. “Those two idiots say it’s a six-hour walk to where they left Ryan and Sarah. If you run, it should cut that time in half. I’ll give you seven hours, just to be safe, before I call in the cavalry.”

“Who’s the cavalry?” Megan asked as she lowered herself into the hole, grabbing the rungs as she did so.

“Everybody I can think of,” Callum growled.

Lake caught his eye. “Start with L’Inspection Générale des Carrières. Ask for a guy called Paul la Tour. He’s an engineer with subterranean rescue experience.”

Callum nodded as Megan’s voice came out of the hole. “Is there anywhere on the planet where you don’t have contacts?”

And miracle of miracles, Lake smiled again.

Ryan’s foot was bleeding, and he was on his second candle. There was only one left. Without a phone, there was no way to tell how long he’d been jogging through the tunnels, but the pedometer in his screwed-up brain told him he’d covered about fifteen miles. Which meant, at an average jogging speed of about five miles per hour, he’d been away from Sarah for roughly three hours. Although it was probably more because there’d been areas where he’d had to slow down because it was too dangerous to jog.

By his calculation, he was about an hour away from an exit—assuming he could find it. And assuming he’d followed the right shade of red this time. It was all taking far too long.

Was Sarah awake and wondering where he was? Was she worried he’d left her? Was she suffering alone?

Stupid, useless questions.

They only made his heart beat faster and his stomach clench. Man, he was thirsty. Sarah had been holding their only bottle of water when the tunnel collapsed, and Ryan hadn’t spotted any other source during his jog. Still, if he’d had to choose, he’d have left the water with her anyway.

There was more graffiti on the walls now, along with evidence that people had been cleaning up after themselves. An old ceramic tile embedded in the tunnel told him that he was beneath Rue du Faubourg Saint-Jacques. It meant nothing to him except that civilization was closer than it’d been three hours earlier.