The Copernicus Legacy: The Forbidden Stone by Tony Abbott Page A

watching, pull out automatic weapons with silencers, utter a couple of German words, and— thit-thit!— end of story.
    “Those guys are killers,” he whispered. “We need to pay our bill and get out of here. Far out of here. Like home. Or Hawaii. I vote for Hawaii.” Both stone men were staring at him now. “Oh man . . .”
    “What are we going to do?” Becca asked, her head bent low.
    A young man carrying a tray with four giant water jugs on it suddenly appeared at their table with Frau Hempel, who whispered cheerily at the kids, “Gather your things. I think you had better come with me.”
    “Is there a back way?” asked Lily. “The last place we escaped from had a back way.”
    “There’s a way,” said Frau Hempel, “but it’s not in the back.”
    The moment they threw their bags over their shoulders and got up from the table, the two men pushed their chairs back and stood. In a move that baffled Darrell even as he saw it happen, the waiter with the water jugs jerked awkwardly between the tables. Then his feet twisted, the tray tipped, and the four glass jugs crashed onto the men’s table and exploded.
    One of the men screamed like a lady, while the other tried to follow the kids but slipped in the water and fell. Then the waiter flailed and slipped, dragging the screamer into the pile. Frau Hempel tugged the Kaplans into the room behind the counter and shut the door firmly.
    “Kurt is training to be a clown,” she said. “He thanks you for the opportunity to try his act. This way.”
    They dashed through another door and down a narrow set of steps into the cellar of the cafe. It was ancient, half carved out of rough stone, half finished off in diamond-shaped oak shelves holding hundreds of wine bottles.
    “Quickly now, and hush,” she whispered, putting her finger to her lips. They followed her to the end of the wine shelves and turned a corner into a small alcove. Tugging a lever on the topmost shelf, she stood back as the shelving sprang out about twelve inches.
    She clicked a light switch, revealing a passageway leading steeply under the tavern. Strung along the ceiling of the passage was an electrical cord, dipping every few feet to a bare lightbulb. The bulbs cast only enough light to see that the passage went on and on.
    “These tunnels were built by East Berliners trying to escape under the Wall to the West,” Frau Hempel said. “They are cold and wet and nasty. But they are seldom traveled now. That’s why there are so many rats. They have made their own metropolis under Berlin. A rat city.”
    Wade shivered. “An underground city of rats. Wonderful.”
    She laughed. “But these tunnels will get you out of here faster than any other way.” From upstairs there came the sound of shouting and wood cracking.
    “Thank Kurt for us,” said Wade, moving into the passage.
    “We owe him,” Becca added. “And you.”
    Frau Hempel smiled. “Kurt’s also a wrestler, so he’ll be fine. Now, take the passages, making right turns when you have the opportunity, and you will come up near . . . well, you’ll see. You will be miles from here and safe. Good luck. Be careful. Now go!”
    Dr. Kaplan hugged her. “You’ve saved us.”
    As they followed the dim light, hurrying down the tight passage into the first turn, Darrell really hoped that they wouldn’t lose themselves, wandering forever and ever in the unending darkness . . . of an underground city . . . of rats.

Chapter Seventeen
    A n underground city of rats.
    As Lily hustled forward in the dark with no clear view of the way ahead because they were all taller than her, she knew—she knew —that those creepy little fur balls were just waiting to sink their needle teeth into her slim pink ankles.
    Rats were all she could think about. They took over her mind like spies had taken over Darrell’s. Rats and spies. And murder. Murdering rat spies. Why not? This was hardly Texas.
    The tunnel got narrower still. And smellier. She