Short Fuse: Elite Operators, Book 2 by Rebecca Crowley Read Free Book Online Page B

conveyer belt at the back, but the humans go up and down in what we call the cage.”
    Roger squinted at Warren over his shoulder. “Didn’t you read up on gold mining before you came out here?”
    Warren’s eyes narrowed, but before he could speak Nicola interjected, “Every operation is different. I want to make sure he’s familiar with this one.”
    Roger said nothing more as he motioned them into the metal grate-walled cage, already packed with boiler-suited mineworkers, and pulled the door shut with a clank . As he signaled to the cable operator that they were ready to descend, she leaned in to speak to Warren.
    “This elevator travels at more than thirty miles per hour. The mine is a little under two miles deep. The gold seam itself is barely two feet wide, but wait ’til you see how much equipment and personnel it takes to get that to the surface.”
    “How many employees are there onsite?”
    “Around two thousand.”
    The elevator began to descend, slowly at first, then rushing toward the bottom with a speed that still made her feel like her stomach was back at the surface. Exposed rock walls seemed to fly past them with blurry speed, and the heat and humidity in the cage grew with each passing second. She took deep breaths, swallowing the flash of claustrophobia that always accompanied these five-minute elevator rides. This cage seemed tighter and hotter than most, and as she craned her neck to see around Roger’s bulk at her side, she realized why.
    “There are too many people in here,” she murmured, her mental headcount climbing over forty.
    “What?” Roger called over the din.
    “Forty-two, forty-three… There are—”
    The elevator shuddered to a rough halt at the bottom, and before she could say another word the miners swarmed toward the door, shoving it open and stampeding out into the tunnel. One miner stomped on her foot, another’s elbow whizzed past her ear, and if Warren hadn’t grabbed a fistful of her boiler suit and tugged her backward she would’ve been trampled by a man so busy adjusting his battery that he wasn’t watching where he went.
    He kept his hand on her back as he leaned down to ask if she was all right. She nodded, chiding herself for the tingling thrill that emanated from that tiny point of contact. She’d been in worse mines than this one—she didn’t need a man to reassure her.
    Although needing and liking weren’t necessarily the same thing.
    “They’re all in a hurry to punch in so they don’t miss a second’s wage.” Roger rolled his eyes as he motioned for her to precede him out of the emptied elevator. “Those are Latadians for you—their manners are even worse than their work ethic.”
    “Are you aware there were forty-three people in that elevator? Its maximum capacity is thirty-five.”
    Roger shrugged as he led the way through the cavernous entrance to one of the many tunnels twisting out from its walls. They passed one in which the miners from the elevator were shoving onto an underground train, turning into a tunnel meant for pedestrians where Roger evidently stored a golf cart for his own use.
    “You know what these guys are like,” he explained, wedging himself behind the wheel and gesturing for them to join him. “They show up late, miss the elevator, squeeze onto the next one.”
    “Then you need to have someone monitoring the passenger load so there’s no overcrowding. Seven people is a lot of extra weight, and if they had to be evacuated—”
    “I’ll look into it,” Roger grumbled, but Nicola was already squinting up at the electric bulbs strung along the ceiling.
    “Is there a problem with your power supply? Several of these lights are out. In a pedestrian tunnel also in use by golf carts you need to ensure the illumination is adequate.”
    Roger didn’t reply, but he did press harder on the accelerator. A rustle from the backseat told her Warren had crossed his arms, and for the second time that morning she was glad he was