"Is that running water?" Angie asked as they headed painfully and slowly down the tunnel. The pair looked at each other, confused about their destination, but knowing where they were heading was the better place for them.

"I hope that it's not going to be a frying pan into the fire scenario," Angie grunted as they made their way along the surprisingly dry and very long tunnel, "I just want somewhere that it will be safe, pain-free and has a hot shower."

"Add good food and a soft bed, and I'm with you," Caroline said, "first, we need to get to the end of this tunnel without those ..." she grunted as she adjusted Angie's weight, "... psychopaths catching us."

"Then we'd better keep moving," Angie said, looking around the tunnel, "with all that water wouldn't you expect this tunnel to be wet, or at least damp?"

"Yes, but it's not, which means we're probably still in the building, or it's under the building but not underground," Caroline said, "don't ask how I know; I just do."

"Fair enough," Angie said, glancing at her friend with her one good eye, "but where are we going?"

"Oh, I wish I knew," Caroline said, "what did we always say before ..." Caroline said, taking a moment to rest, "something about it being an adventure?"

"Everything unknown in life is an adventure ... until it isn't," Angie said, "my mother used to say that."

"Well, let's make sure it remains an adventure," Caroline hissed in pain as she started moving them forward, "what did that insane woman want from you anyway?"

"Yeah, don't think I didn't notice they took me for interrogation more than you," Angie said, "I didn't think it was fair, and I told them so."

Caroline chuckled, "They did a number on you. What did they want?"

"Something about a box full of old techie gear and a diary or journal," Angie said, "I don't know what they were talking about, but they didn't believe me at all and continued with the line of questioning."

"It must be something to do with the box they took from the storage unit," Caroline said, "remember when they found and captured us, they had a box with them."

"The one you played with while I was sleeping?" Angie asked, chuckling at Caroline's surprised expression and simultaneously hissing in a breath laced with pain.

"Yeah, that one," Caroline said, wincing at her friend's discomfort, "at least it brought us help."

"For that, I'm eternally grateful," Angie said as they finally came to the end of the tunnel, "now we can step into the light."

"Yeah, strange that this doesn't have a grate over it or some sort of protection as you see in the movies ... all those vines or a trap door or cave in the middle of an open field," Caroline said, glancing at Angie and finding her friends staring at her strangely, "I know, I know too much late night movies. What else do you do when you worry? "

"Pottery," Angie said, smiling, "come on ... let's get moving."

The women shuffled through the wide opening into the bright blinding sunshine, raising grimy, swollen, and blood-smeared hands to shield their eyes; they stumbled to a stop on the edge of a wide ledge, duel gasps and two pairs of eyes looking down into a rapidly flowing river.

"At least we know why the tunnel stayed dry," Angie said, "the river needs to be flooding for weeks before reaching this height."

"True," Caroline said, "now ... how do we get out of here? We're on a ledge," looking around she pointed toward the top of the mountain they were in, "If we follow the ledge, we could make it up there and then find out where we are."

"How long was that tunnel?" Angie asked.

"Long," Caroline said, looking at her watch, "it took us nearly two hours to get out here."

"Wow, a lot can happen in two hours," Angie muttered, using the rock face to help her move along the ledge, "listen ... neither of us can fall, okay."

"Sure," Caroline said, glancing down into the deep river, "If we do, at least we'll be wet, and if we float, the river will carry downstream."

"That's if we survive," Angie chuckled, shaking her head, "what I mean is that if either of us falls, the other is incapable of catching them or holding onto them."

"Do you randomly come up with these things?" Caroline asked.

"You know me," Angie panted as she stopped at the bottom of stone steps, "I have no brain mouth filter when I'm in pain or tired. At the moment, I'm both ..." she paused, looking up the stairs to where they were supposed to head, "huh ... wonder who made these."

Glancing past her, Caroline took in the exquisitely made stairs, "Those are manmade," she huffed out a breath, "keep going; I don't have much more to give to the escape."

"I hear you," Angie said as she slowly made her way up the stairs, "thankfully, they are shallow stairs; otherwise, I don't think I could have made it to the top."

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Caroline crawled up the last few steps before sinking to the ground at the top. Angie slowly joined her as she dropped to her hands and knees. Silently the women sat panting.

"Oh wow," Caroline breathed as she raised her head, "... look at that view."

Angie raised her head to look out over rolling hills painted in deep greens, browns and various splashes of colour. Tears gathered in her eyes, swallowing her throat-clogging emotions; she nodded before turning at the sound of a twig snapping.

"I don't think we're alone," she whispered.

"No, we're not," Caroline said as she pointed at the dust storm approaching them, "someone is coming."

"No, I think someone is here," Angie said, gesturing toward the sound of another twig snapping, "whether it's human or animal, it remains to be seen."

"I don't mind who it is as long as they're not the Calderones." Caroline swiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, "I don't think I could take another dose of their questions."

"Do you think we should try and stand?" Angie asked, easing onto her knees, "Whether we should or shouldn't, I don't think I can get back up."

Caroline gently touched her arm, "Angie ..." she whispered, "... stay where you are ... you're too injured to move without assistance."

"So are you," Angie chuckled at the irony of the situation, "I know why we've been best friends all this time."

"Why?" Caroline asked.

"We're as stubborn as each other," Angie said, groaning and holding her ribs, "neither of us will give in or give up."

Caroline shook her head tiredly, "You're so right. It looks like the dust storm has arrived."

Looking up, the women watched three dark-coloured vehicles stop a short way from them. The back of one was open and armed men stood watching the surrounding terrain vigilantly; as two women stepped from the back of the middle vehicle, protected by a heavily armed bodyguard who had opened the door.

"Doesn't look like the Calderones," Angie said, "I don't know any of these people."

"You are correct," the older woman said, her smooth-sounding voice holding a heavy accent, "we are not of the Calderone family, but we do know what they are about and how they have broken the treaty established among our people decades ago."

Caroline and Angie looked at each other before looking at the women and asked in unison, "Who are you?"

Nagid watched from the shadows as the tall man came out of the room they had tagged as the operations room; he hesitated, glanced around, moved a small stone into the doorway of the room and moved toward another room they had just cleared, it seemed to be a break room of some kind and closed the door. Nagid watched him go finding it hard to believe he knew the man or someone like him. What was going on here?

Slowly they moved toward the doorway easing it open and looking inside. The Calderone sat at a bank of monitors watching one particular screen where Bevis and Chelsea featured. They were doing something to the door or near the room's entrance. Easing back, Nagid signalled to move forward. Timing would be everything if what he suspected Chelsea was doing was being put in place. Rounding a corner, he called a halt as he took in a group of guards near a large solid wooden door. Staying in the shadows, he took in the area before him. Drag marks in the dust on the cement floor headed in the opposite direction meant the torture chamber was further away from them than the containment room.

One of the guard's heads snapped in their direction, his hand stopped mid-motion, his eyes scanning the area, trying to penetrate the shadows.

"I don't think we're alone," he said to the others eating at a large round table, "did you hear that?"

"Would you stop," one of the burly bearded men chewing noisily at the table muttered, "for the last hour, you've been crying wolf over every sound you've heard?"

"So I'm on edge," he said, "you would be as well if you knew what that crazy woman was up to."

"Sure we know," another man said, grinning, "she's getting her fix ... never met someone who enjoys causing so much pain."

"Careful," another muttered, "if she hears you, that will earn you a bullet."

The man shrugged, taking another mouthful of food, "When she finds those damn journals and tapes, we'll all be happier."

"She will," the first man said, resuming the making of his beverage, "but I don't know what will happen to all of us."

"Here he goes again," the bearded man sighed, "Mr. Pessimistic."

"No, realistic," he said, sipping at the mug he raised to his lips, "once she has whatever she is looking for, do you think she will keep us around for one moment? I've seen her work for over a decade. We're just as expendable as her siblings, parents and anyone else in her bloodline."

"He has a point," a tall, athletic man said, opening the door to the side of the space, "our days are numbered ... but that's if she finds that box."

"So we make sure she doesn't find that box," the bearded man said.

"That will buy you a bullet," the athletic man said, "she is obsessed with that room, that is for sure ..." he sighed, folding himself into a chair, "something about that space that she keeps wanting to know."

"Like what?" the bearded man asked.

"Not sure, but she is adamant that all her answers will come once she has the other journals and that damn box."

"Didn't she have a box that she put in that room?" the man with the beverage asked, "wasn't the stuff in that box?"

The bearded man shook his head, "Just kid's toys."

"Huh," the man with the beverage sank into a chair, stretching out his legs, "no wonder she is taking her temper out on the other two women. All this scheming and manipulation for nothing."

"Ohhhh, don't think for one moment that is her temper," the bearded man said, "she's just warming up ... if I remember correctly, the one named Angie was responsible for crippling the family business all those years ago."

"Wow, yeah, I'm surprised there wasn't a bullet for her," the athletic one said, "I think she's family of some kind."

"Yeah, and The Calderone likes her," the man with the beverage said, "imagine what she's going to do to someone she doesn't like."

The men fell silent, and some shuddered; others shook their heads. Nagid had heard enough; this was Angie and Caroline's prison. Why had it taken Chelsea this long to get them out of that room?

Nagid frowned, he hadn't seen the other women on the monitor, and Chelsea would have kept them close if there wasn't another way out. A smile spread over his face. Angie and Caroline were on their way to safety, and Chelsea and Bevis were being the distraction while they made their escape. Admiration and respect blossomed in Nagid's chest, and her father would be so proud. Now it was his turn to get the women out of that room and snag The Calderone.