The Last Bazaar (21 page)

Drake held his body as firmly as he could when the impact came. Against Hayden’s original wish, Beau had done a heroic job—practically leveling the chopper off as it crash landed. Its underside struck the castle walls, shattering them, rubble raining down inside and outside the structure. A new hole appeared right next to the front gates and the drawbridge that spanned a house-sized ravine. Everything juddered as they broke through the walls, then shook and bounced as the helo wobbled and vibrated its way down and into Ramses’ inner courtyard.

Drake stayed still as the world spun. Then, steeling himself, he launched into action, checking the others for wounds.

“Sound off.”

Affirmatives rose very quickly and clearly, the best sign that nobody was injured. Drake pushed at the door, cracking it open a little before it wedged. Beau shoved at his side, creating a gap large enough for them to squeeze through. The Frenchman went first, drawing his weapon, then Dahl and Mai. The chopper wheezed and coughed around them, glass trickling to the floor and metal shrieking as its weight shifted. Alicia paused a moment to grab more ammo and Drake gave her a shove.

“Hurry, the others are clear.”

“You’ll thank me later. And quit poking me, it’s friggin’ freezing out here.”

“It would be. You’ve just spent days in the Amazon.” Drake spoke before feeling the chill draught of the mountain air roll into the cabin. Alicia was right, it was actually “friggin’ freezing”, but at least they were well below the snow line.

Drake compressed his frame to fit through the small gap, gasping a little.
Bacon butties,
he thought,
will be the bloody death of me.
The sound of gunfire erupted from somewhere, shots being fired at his comrades. Drake looked up to see a swarm of legionnaires bearing down on them from the inner courtyard and more scrambling down the wreckage of the walls. Ramses stood in the center of it all, directing men, and Drake could hear the deep timbre of his voice.

“Bring me any memento you like. But make sure they’re dead.”

A price on our heads? No change there then.

Dahl had topped the rubble pile and was now scrambling over it, heading away from the castle and toward a stand of trees some way off. Mai and Beau quickly followed. Drake urged Alicia along as legionnaires bore down on them from three sides.

“We good?” Drake heard Dahl call.

“Go, go, go!” Alicia cried back, running so fast her legs, slipping on the shifting rubble, suddenly went out from beneath her.

Drake caught her under the shoulder, spun and rammed a fist into the first attacker. He lifted Alicia. The blonde fired instantly, two men dropping to their knees. Together, they attacked the rubble pile again, nearing the top, but they had already fallen far behind.

A whistle, and the sound of a streaking missile made his heart skip a beat.
Are they firing RPGs at us?
No
, he decided a second later,
they’re firing at the rubble pile!

The rocket hit and exploded, shifting heaps of mortar, stone and rock, a percussive blast ringing around the mountains. The large mass relocated, swelling and rippling and becoming as unstable as melting ice. Drake tried to catch Alicia as she fell, but failed, for he was already tumbling himself.

Back down into the courtyard the two soldiers fell. Back down toward Ramses.

Drake struggled as the bonds bit hard.

Surprisingly, they had been well treated so far. They were seated on a deep, plush red sofa, hands tied behind their backs and feet strapped together. The sofa faced a picture window that stared out over towering peaks and down into the valley. A meandering lane led from the gates of the castle, over crumbling hills, through both thick and sparse stands of trees that eventually led to a rolling, grassy floor, many hundreds of feet below. Drake guessed they had been waiting there for an hour before a door opened.

Ramses stood behind them, out of sight.

“I could use assets like you,” he was saying. “Somebody willing to take a risk, put themselves on the line to make a difference. For me. Yes, I have many already but I could use people with brains. With instinct. With initiative. You would be very well reimbursed for your efforts.”

Alicia shuffled. “Untie me first. Then we will talk.”

“You would be willing to switch sides?”

“I’ve done it before.”

Ramses walked into view, standing like a mountain himself before the picture window. His frame blocked out all but a little light. “Then we shall talk.” He nodded behind Drake.

A gun barrel pressed against his temple.
Akatash,
he thought. The swift, silent assassin. Alicia blinked in shock, not having sensed the bodyguard’s presence.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Ramses said. “I am good too. I used to believe I could take care of myself, against any opponent.” He sighed. “Then I met Akatash.”

Drake winced as the barrel pressed deeper.

Ramses studied Alicia. “You want to kill me. You want to be free. You hope your friends will come to save you. It is understandable. Well, none of that will happen. First, we will talk.”

“Torture will get you nowhere,” Alicia snapped. “You will never break us.”

Ramses looked affronted. “Torture? That is not what I do. I am a prince, madam. No, we will talk between ourselves and then, when dawn arrives, we will throw you from the battlements. That is all.”

“That’s
all?
” Drake repeated. “Easy for you to say.”

Alicia was shaking her head. “Madam? I thought you said you
wouldn’t
torture me?”

Ramses let out a deep booming laugh that fairly rattled the windows. A moment later a servant arrived, dressed in white, carrying a silver platter. Ramses chose three separate hors d’oeuvres and a proffered napkin. He waited whilst the servant poured him a chilled glass of white wine.

“Conti Montrachet,” he breathed, savoring the taste. “A vice, I am afraid.”

“Oh, wow,” Alicia retorted. “We’re so alike.”

Drake winced at that. If they had until morning to fashion an escape there was hope. But a pissed off terrorist prince might very quickly change his mind.

“So,” he stepped in fast. “What do you and Tyler Webb have in common?”

“Webb?” Ramses chewed slowly, contemplatively. “The Pythians were his brainchild, his new cabal. The man is a psychopath, deranged, unhinged, and was always meant to fail. He is alone now, searching for something he will never find. A myth. A fable. He will not last long.”

“But he is alive?” Drake pressed.

Ramses hollered out a laugh. “Of course. He escaped the Amazon as did I. There were many fail-safes around that camp and Webb, I’m afraid, insisted on knowing all of them.”

“Can I ask,” Alicia put in, “why the hell you’re still here? You know the rest of our team are out there, probably calling on the Peruvian Special Forces for help.” She squinted. “If they have one. But nevertheless, they’re coming for you, big boy.”

Ramses frowned a little. “I think you will find I own most of Peru’s authorities, along with Brazil’s. Nobody is
coming for me.
And as for your friends—let them come.” More laughter.

Drake enjoyed the bullishness, but not the underlying confidence. “What is Webb searching for?”

“Truly, I have no idea. Saint Germain or some such. Perhaps he wants to grind bones to make his bread. The man is a true monster.”

“How can
you
say
that
?” Alicia sat up. “Having ordered a nuclear detonation.”

“Our definitions differ.” Ramses stared right into her eyes. “But I see you are going to be of no use to me. This conversation will now end and enable me to turn to more pressing matters.”

Drake felt the gun barrel dig in a little harder before being pulled away. Yes, Akatash was a sadist No surprise there.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Ramses said as he walked out. “No mercy for them. Slit their throats now.”

Hayden chafed as they waited for the backup she’d hastily arranged but it soon arrived in the form of two big military choppers, sent swiftly from the nearest airbase and consequently equipped to fly in the Peruvian mountains, both filled with the requested backup in the form of military men. Other forms of swift transport were on full alert, ready to whisk the SPEAR team anywhere and, in particular, to New York. Over half an hour had already passed since they realized Drake and Alicia had been taken captive, but the newly arrived choppers had lifted off some time before that, during the chase, tracking Hayden’s chopper through GPS and attempting to rendezvous in the air. When Dahl, Mai and Beau realized Drake and Alicia were lost they had headed quickly toward the area they saw Hayden had landed. The team were distressed and consumed with guilt, but wise enough to remember that time was the issue. They wasted none of it, going over options for an assault at the same time as hoping they were far enough away for Ramses not to consider initiating an attack of his own.

Smyth favored the full frontal. “I call it, ‘the Miley approach’,” he said. “Attack the castle walls, the gates, the bridge, take the fuckers out.”

Hayden looked up at the mountains from their hideaway deep within a stand of trees about a mile from the castle. “Well there’s no way of getting in through the back entrance,” she said. “That’s a sheer rock face behind the castle.”

“Tunnels?” Dahl suggested. “All castles have them. Caves. Concealed entrances. I bet Ramses has several escape routes.”

Hayden nodded. “A good bet.”

Kinimaka studied the castle and its environs through powerful field-glasses. “Nothing obvious up there.”

Kenzie snorted, shaking her head. “As if they would stick a label on it—‘secret entrance three hundred yards’.”

Lauren laid a hand on the Hawaiian’s shoulder. “Keep looking, Mano. You will get nowhere if you don’t at least try.” She shot a hard gaze at Kenzie.

Beauregard then walked up to the group. “I could infiltrate the castle. Alone.”

Dahl glared. “How? It’s all rock up there. No trees or hills or wooden barricades. They have guards every few feet, spotters and snipers too.”

“I have my ways. I can get inside. Alone.”

Hayden checked her watch. “Beau, do it. Go now. You’re our backup, and please hurry.”

The Frenchman slipped away, just another shadow among many.

Dahl bit his lip. “They’ll be waiting for him. I don’t like it. They know we’re coming.”

“And that is our answer,” Yorgi said. “It is. We have to do the thing they least expect. It is a thief’s maxim. His . . . um, slogan. What is it that they don’t expect?”

Hayden again stared at the sheer cliff face that towered above the rear of the castle. “That we would come straight down that.”

Smyth growled. “That’s because it’s impossible.”

“Yesssss . . .” Hayden turned. “But maybe there’s another way.”

“We don’t need all these men,” Dahl said suddenly, eyes wide with adrenalin. “The unexpected already landed right in our laps.”

*

Five minutes later the soldiers were ready to move out and attempt one of the most dangerous rescues of their careers. Both Lauren and Yorgi would be left behind, since this was considered a full-on combat mission, and they still had Robert Price to guard. The newly arrived big birds whirled and roared, no doubt seen by those watching from the castle, but that worked in nicely with the plan, as they would see only what initially happened. Dahl fine-tuned it, much to Hayden’s dismay—to allow the Mad Swede to tweak any plan was adding an infinite amount of danger to it, but at least he did check that the local choppers were fully equipped with all they needed before setting off.

Dahl looked toward the castle once more before they started. “Hold on, my friends,” he said. “We’re coming for you.”

Then he joined Hayden, Kinimaka and Smyth in a fast sprint toward the whirlybirds. They clambered on and tried not to notice the deep concern written across the pilot’s face.

“He doesn’t speak English apparently.” Hayden confirmed. “I’m actually quite pleased about that. The guys who came with him are convinced we’re gonna die.”

Kinimaka frowned. “And why don’t you want him to speak English??”

“He might be able to talk me out of this.”

Kenzie squeezed in next to Dahl. “The soldiers don’t sound too happy with your plan.”

“Just buckle up and hold on. These choppers are used for this kind of thing all the time. Drill and repeat. Drill and repeat. Those guys will be here when we get back.”

Without wasting a moment the pilot took the chopper into the air, lifting vertically and then swooping away. Up toward the clouds he climbed and away from the castle, making a show of it. After those on the ground would have watched the chopper heading away, he disappeared behind a peak and then rose further before banking sharply back in the direction of the castle a third of the way up its own mountain.

Dahl was already on his feet. “Chutes,” he said. “Buckle in. Jumping from a chopper is only a little different than jumping from a plane. The pull string is attached to a line, so instead of pulling manually, the line will do it for you. We’re gonna set it to open low, you understand.” He took a breath. “Very low. Do not miss a beat or you will die.”

Kenzie punched his thigh. “Playful bastard, ain’t ya?” She looked around. “Don’t we need oxygen masks, or something?”

“Nope,” Dahl didn’t look over at her. “That’s essentially for television.”

Kinimaka tripped over his straps as he danced around with his parachute, having fought hard to adjust it to maximum girth. Hayden steadied him with a strong hand. Smyth glanced out of the only window.

“Crap, that still looks a long way down.”

“Like taking any chance,” Dahl said. “Once you’ve learned how, it just comes naturally.”

The pilot turned, face creased with worry, and indicated they had risen far enough. Dahl wrenched open the door and let in a frigid, howling wind. With a quick nod he was the first out, pulled downward by gravity and forced even harder by the rotors’ downdraught. Hayden came next and then Kinimaka, Kenzie and Smyth. The chopper waited for a moment, a steady sentinel praying for their safe deliverance.

Hayden plummeted through the air, horizontal with arms spread, and with an urgency in her heart. Air pressure slammed her ears and a buffeting wind tore at her clothing. Below, the castle grew quickly from a speck to a dot and then a blotch. Very soon she was able to make out the crenelated battlements and ruined chopper.

At their backs the vertical cliff face shot by, hard impenetrable rock offering cruel death in response to the slightest slip. Dahl’s chute shot open, material billowing past Hayden and then she felt the hard wrench as her own chute filled upward. A violent deceleration to their descent and then they were falling much more agreeably, guiding themselves onto the top of the oblivious guards.

The inner courtyard rushed up. Hayden took out her guns a moment after Dahl and sighted on half a dozen legionnaires. At the very last second all five descendees opened fire. The next few minutes were a total rout; the victims not comprehending where the bullets were coming from and consequently being caught out in the open. Ramses’ legionnaires sprawled across the castle’s courtyard and battlements, clawing for weapons or just lying still, some groaning, others falling to their deaths, dozens of them.

Hayden increased the velocity of fire as she neared the ground, knowing their greatest advantage was almost at an end, and determined to take as much of it as possible. They landed one after the other, and hit the ground running, each clicking a button to free their chutes the moment they touched down to leave the drop zone clear for the next. Hayden felt only a brief exhilaration before turning her mind to their friends and where they might be.

“Inside.” Dahl started off, then almost tripped over an injured, crawling legionnaire. “Wait.” He reached down and grabbed the man by the ankle, three inches beneath his bullet wound. “Where would Ramses take prisoners?” he snarled.

The soldier grimaced and shook his head. Dahl shook the leg hard. “Tell me!”

Then Smyth stepped in. “Their lives are in danger,” he roared and kicked out at the man’s leg. A scream rang out and some wheezing. Seconds later they had a close approximation of where they needed to go.

Hayden ran ahead, weapons primed and aimed. Three times she squeezed off shots and three men fell, dead. Smyth and Kinimaka also picked guards off. They approached a thick wooden door, wrapped around with studded straps, and kicked it open. Inside, the castle was cold and unwelcoming, the narrow passage constructed of simple rock and unadorned. Hayden concluded it had to be the servants’ quarters and ran ahead. Kenzie appeared at her side.

“Watch the head count.” Hayden nodded at the ever-present katana. “We don’t want to be branded criminals over this.”

“Yes, your President has had to grease enough balls as it is.”

“I wouldn’t quite put it that way but, yes. Yes he has.”

A service elevator took them to the highest floor, where they walked out onto a plush landing. The lights were golden, throwing burnished hues across the entire area and the walls were lined by immense works of art. Hayden led them down a connecting corridor and then they started checking rooms. Legionnaires appeared from three directions, initiating a firefight.

Hayden dived headlong into a room, came to her feet, and found herself facing a beautiful, picturesque window—the whole wall a piece of thick glass. Sofas, divans, eighteenth century desks, wall-fittings and statues filled the room, but Hayden’s attention was drawn to the sofa nearest the window.

She would recognize those two heads anywhere.

Drake and Alicia.

But it was the way they were perched on top of the head rest that terrified her.