Brothers In Arms (Matt Drake 5) (7 page)

Thus President Maskhadov had tugged
at an old thread. His education had been through Oxford, his friends graduating into all kinds of business. One of them, a Commander Wells of the British SAS, had been all too happy to send an undercover team over to Istanbul to help eradicate the “Doku germ.”

So, a young Matt Drake found himself in the middle of the most chaotic city he
’d ever known. And the crowds thronging the streets were nothing compared to the badly repaired houses that massed within and around the city. Space was at a premium, and when Drake saw the palatial dwelling with which the vile Chechen warlord rewarded himself, his blood ran a little hotter, his disgust a little greater. After a few days of investigating, they discovered Doku hosted a weekly party. Drake and another of the team were chosen to pose as guests.

The
“prettiest” of the SAS team found themselves gliding along with other partygoers, genuine invite in hand—ripped from the dying hands of Doku’s dumbest goon—through a high, arched doorway and into the entrance hall of an ostentatious mansion. Drake didn’t like to dwell on the obvious trappings of madmen and murderers—the mock dungeon room; the sealed-off wings; the presence of armed guards; blank, staring eyes of most of the warlord’s “escorts;” or the barely concealed track marks on their forearms. Instead, he ventured as far as each sentry’s irritation would allow, creating a detailed map in his mind of every entry and egress point, every CCTV camera, every guard station, and the types and quantities of weapons they carried.

Around midnight
, he found himself skirting the pool area and, though the evening had cooled a little, the clear waters were crowded with half-naked bodies. At the halfway point, he broke a promise to himself by gawking and almost fell into the pool. But it didn’t matter. Almost everyone else did the same.

The wom
an he later knew as Mai Kitano—she didn’t earn her nickname
Shiranu
until the legendary incidents of Y2K at Tokyo Coscon—emerged from the waters by way of the pool ladder. She shook her head as she climbed, sending sprays of water flying from the ends of her long black hair as it whipped around her body. The white two-piece swimsuit she wore drew attention to her perfect body, tanned, curved and flawless in every way. And whilst most people looked away quickly to preserve their decency, one man in particular stood up to get a better view.

Drake now
recognized Akhmad Doku, a little, thin-faced weasel of a man who no doubt would serve mankind better as crocodile bait. He bellowed at Mai with that arrogant assurance that tyrannical leaders are known for and beckoned for his bodyguards to help her to his side—just in case she hadn’t heard. Drake watched the Japanese woman walk and was instantly sure that she knew how to handle herself. More than that, he was in no doubt that she was military trained. A plant?

He filed the incident away to report later.

The night wore on. Eventually the guests either began to drift away or fall into alcoholic comas. Doku was a benevolent host, allowing them the luxury of staying the night on his expansive deck and terrace. Drake was heading out, feigning drunkenness as the reason for his distance when the Japanese woman again stepped into his sights.

Still wearing the spectacular bikini. Her dark eyes rooted him to the spot.
“I recognized you the moment I saw you.” Her voice was as soft as drifting snow.

“You know my name?” The young Drake was unnerved, still shaken by this vision.

“No, sir. I meant your type. You are army, I think. And judging by your accent, you’re a Yorkshire man. The Chechen president has a tie with your special forces, so I’m guessing SAS. Am I right?”

“I can’t
—”

“Ah, but you have to. You see, tonight is the night. I
’ve worked on this operation for weeks. I have planned it to the last disgusting detail. I’ll get him alone—and end his depravities permanently.”

“You’re pretty forthcoming to a man you just met.”

“No. I’m confident in my abilities, that’s all. I know you’re British army, ergo you’re with me.”

Drake cast around desperately for his colleague, but they were alone.
“Look. This is a recon. I have no orders to act. I can’t be
with you.”

“My philosophy has always been to take it as it comes or, in Doku’s case, more like ‘roll with the punches
.’ I don’t need your help, but I could use it. And remember, after tonight, if I fail, you’ll never get near him again.”

She was right. Drake looked at her and saw the expression of a woman
—and an agent—who never failed. He made a quick decision. “What do you need?”

*****

Drake awoke the next morning a little disorientated. The island breeze had chilled his exposed skin; the dreams of Mai had confounded his judgment. It took a little while to remember that he was marooned on an uninhabited island somewhere off the coast of Korea, rather than inside a warlord’s house in Istanbul.

When Romero and Smyth marched into hi
s field of vision, kicking at the embers of the dead fire and staring out to sea, he climbed to his feet and stretched out his aching joints.

“Old man
,” Mai said as she jumped up, “old bones popping like cheap bubble wrap.”

Drake gave her the dead eye and then laughed. “Don’t you start. Alicia’s us
ually the one with the piss take.”

Mai stared out at the rolling grey ocean. The perpetual mist still hung at the horizon, dimming the light of the rising sun. “
We need a team to set traps and a team to explore those caves for shelter and surprises. Once that’s done, we need to get our heads together and figure out what we’re going to use to signal passersby.”

They all eyed the mist and the empty sea dubiously. Mai shrugged. “We have to try.”

Smyth growled at nothing. “The caliber of passersby around these parts might not be to our liking.”

Romero nodded. “Sure thing. Now let’s get these traps up and running. You two okay exploring?”

Drake nodded and shook the lethargy away. Safe they might be, but they could not live for long on a desert island. “Keep an eye to that horizon,” he said in parting. “It’s still our best way of getting home.”

Mai stepped lightly ahead as if
embarking on a long-anticipated day trip. She used the path they had followed the day before—not so much a real path as a makeshift route that twisted and turned and occasionally doubled back. She moved quietly, aware of the surrounding wildlife and their potential next meal. Drake rubbed his eyes and stared up through the green canopy. The skies were blue up there, studded with drifting clouds. Birds flitted across the roof of the world, chasing dreams that danced among gusts of air. They were a long way from Washington DC, and a lifetime away from Hawaii and the other tombs of the gods. How life could change in a matter of weeks. His body seemed fine, but he was beginning to wonder if his mind needed to catch up. The strain had been terrible since Kennedy died. What they all needed was some down time—some good old-fashioned R and R.

He sighed aloud. Maybe next year.

Mai glanced back. “You bored?”

“A little.” Drake shook off the gloom and tried to be positive. “
Maybe we’ll find an old fighter plane that we can fix and fly to Australia?”

Mai ignored him. It didn’t take long to travel into the interior and find the foothills of the mountain. They stared for a few minutes at th
e small, dark holes that dotted the rising cliff face.

Then Mai was beside him, about a head shorter, pinning him with an intense gaze.
“You think this is fate, Matt?”

“It could be just bad luck.”

“There’s an old Japanese proverb—
to wait for luck is the same as waiting for one’s death.
We make our own luck, my old friend.”

“I got one too.
Make the best of a bad job.
Not sure if it comes from the motherland, but it hits the nail on the head, I think.”

“So you
still have nothing to offer? I didn’t stay in Washington for you. I stayed for the team and for a better life. For a chance of slipping away from my agency. They’d use me until they got me killed. You know that.”

Drake gripped the bridge of his nose. “I know. You di
d the right thing, no question.” He hesitated to touch her, though every fiber of his being wanted the contact. “I’m not one to fritter my chances away, Mai. . .”

She turned on a heel and started to make her way toward the caves.

Drake took a deep breath and followed more slowly, his mind whirling with memory.

*****

“What do I need?” The bikini-clad Mai had laughed at him. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Being undercover this long. . . it makes a girl want to address her values. Or at least take a week long shower. So, soldier boy, what’s your name?”

“Drake
,” he said without thinking. “Matt Drake.”

“Ah, as in Bond. James Bond. I like it.”

“Well, it has been mentioned. . .”

“You want to take me to bed?”

Drake gawped. “Sorry?”

“To
his
bed. He’s waiting whilst I slip into something more comfortable.”

Drake took in the white bikini yet again. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s not true,” Mai said with a wicked grin. “But in the interests of expediency, I’ll explain. Doku is a freak, a murderer, a pervert and an international terrorist. To you I imagine he’s just a kidnapper, but that’s enough. Right now he’s lying naked on his bed, hands fake-tied, expecting me to climb the walls to his balcony and accost him whilst he’s
helpless.
”

Drake shook his head. “What the fu
—?”

“It’s called role play. You’ve never tried it?”

“Not like that.”

“Well, I’m Japanese. I’ve done my fair share. Anyway,
I can take him out. I can take his guards out. No problem. But to escape alive, I need a diversion.” She paused expectantly.

“But why tonight?” Drake suddenly asked, catching up quickly.
“You’ve been undercover for so long. Why now?”

“For the same reason you’re here. Doku’s become more
than a simple embarrassment to his country. And this party at least helps hide the origin of his killers. We won’t get a better chance, Matt Drake.”

“If he’s the kind of man you say
,” Drake said, “he’ll have CCTV even in his room. You know that, right?”

“Of course.” Mai presented a silver key. “
Plan A—kill Doku and destroy the CCTV room. Plan B—just kill Doku and fuck it. You okay with that?”

“Where the hell did the
key
come from?”

Mai smiled. “A place close to my heart. Now
—you ready?”

The Japanese woman leapt lithely onto a nearby marble balustrade.
Drake wanted nothing more than to stay and flirt with her for the rest of the night, but forced himself to admit that it just wasn’t going to happen. Mai was already grabbing hold of a first-floor balcony, lithe legs swinging, body straining. Drake shot up after her, only then remembering to examine the courtyard and grounds below. The coast was clear, luckily for him, but he had an inkling that Mai had been scouting their surroundings even as she explained her plan.

Some woman
, he thought admiringly. There was a woman coming through the ranks of the army, aspiring to the SAS or similar by the name of Myles who the guys were all whispering about. Maybe they were from the same mold.

Mai bounded up the wall. Drake followed.
Time stopped for him as she disappeared over a balcony, but she reappeared within five seconds, beckoning furiously. Drake scrambled up the remaining few feet.

And l
anded softly on the other side, facing a partially open patio door. Through the flimsy drapes, he could see the figure of a man laid out on the bed, a man who could be heard laughing through a silk blindfold and gag.

Mai’s eyes twinkled. “Guess what he’s about to get.” She twirled and tapped on the glass. “Oh, hi
. Well who’s this fine specimen? All trussed up and so helpless.”

Drake watched as the crazy agent strutted up to the bed and
straddled the lightly bound man. She actually looked like she was enjoying herself. For a moment he watched, spellbound, then remembered.

He had a job to do.
Feeling a little like fresh meat being led to the kill, he leapt from balcony to balcony until he reached the backside of the house. Then, he started to smash glass and throw patio furniture about until it splintered. He shouted and screamed until lights started to come on, not just where he was but all around the house. After a minute or so, he proceeded back, smashing the tall glass doors and on one occasion elbowing one of the shocked guests back into their room.

It didn’t take much to cause a distraction. Just noise and
an example of violent intent.

By the time he returned to Doku’s balcony
, Mai was already throttling the life out of the Chechen kidnapper. Drake moved quickly, expecting the door to be kicked in a moment before it actually was.