Authors: David Leadbeater
Her involuntary gasp of fear brought the heads around, and Hayden almost cried in relief. It had been an optical illusion, contrived by the sofa’s odd design. As she watched, Akatash lurched over the sofa, landing hard, making Hayden even more confused. Then Beauregard appeared, a black ghost, and the scene made sense. At her back the rest of the team held off the legionnaires so Hayden made a move toward Drake and Alicia.
Beauregard glanced at them. “You took your time, SPEAR team. I infiltrated the kitchen and became tired of waiting for your entrance.”
Hayden crouched down. “You good?” she asked Drake, withdrawing a knife and slicing through his bonds.
“I’ll be better once we catch up to Ramses and neutralize his ass.”
Alicia held her feet up in the air. “I’m fine thanks.”
“You think I would flee?” A deep, baritone voice filled the room. “You think I, being royalty, would scamper away like a frightened dog?”
Drake turned his head. Ramses stood in a nearby doorway, filling it, ducking down to pass through.
The Yorkshireman rose. “There are no dogs in this room,” he said. “Only wolves.”
A moment passed in which there was no sound, no movements save for the erratic spinning of dust motes through tapering shafts of sunlight. And though the room was huge, the presence of those who filled it felt infinitely larger.
And none greater than the Mad Swede. “Excuse me, boys and girls, but is this a fight or a staring contest?”
Pure mayhem erupted. Drake dove at Ramses and the terrorist prince ran straight back at him. They met at full pelt, smashing into each other, neither giving any quarter. Beauregard fell atop Akatash, firing down fist after fist like pneumatic hammers, but Akatash deflected every one whilst exhibiting an utter calm. Hayden and Alicia vaulted the sofa to see the rest of their team engaged in various types of conflict.
Kinimaka and Smyth crouched by a far L-shaped corner, and held off any legionnaires who sought to enter the fray. Mai, with lightning fast reflexes and Kenzie with her katana fought those already in the room, the Japanese woman having slipped over the battlements after the aerial assault. Dahl plucked bodies from the throng and threw them through nearby walls.
Beauregard staggered as Akatash slipped away and then delivered a series of vicious kicks. The two opponents met as one, evenly matched, battling hard. One assault was blocked and then another, a counter assault deflected and quickly punished. Bones broke, blood flowed, but neither man gave an inch. Standing up to one another they weaved and snaked, broke choke holds and fell apart. When one fell he instantly pounced back into the fray, neither prepared to lose face.
Alicia saw how evenly matched they were, peeled away from Hayden and charged in to help. Akatash flinched under Alicia’s spry assault, jumping away beyond her reach. Drake bounced off Ramses one more time but continued to use him as a punching bag, slamming punches into kidneys, gut and chest, ignoring the pain in his own wrists. Ramses wasn’t good enough to stop every blow but what he lacked in skill he more than made up for in muscle and pain resistance. The two blows he had managed to deliver made Drake see stars.
Kenzie danced around Mai, the two women facing six to one odds, but clouding that in a whirl of violence and precision. Dahl jumped in to help them. The sword flashed twice, back and forth, and four men fell dead. Mai glided between bodies, slipping and sliding at every turn and never offering a stationary target, senses attuned to all sides and to everything around her, bending and breaking limbs, throwing huge men with ease, and landing lethal blows. Mai was so good, would-be killers still came at her before realizing they were already dead. Kenzie’s eyes filled with a new respect. Dahl kept his eyes on the sword as if desperate to ask for a loan.
Drake slid under Ramses’ arm and punched three, four times. Not even a flinch touched the man’s eyes or body. He moved around the back, floating like Ali, and tried three kidney punches. Ramses swung around, a haymaker coming to take Drake’s head off, but it was easily avoidable. The Yorkshireman ducked and then tried Ramses’ face but striking those cheekbones was like striking foundation blocks.
Drake stood back. “What the fuck are you made of?”
Ramses guffawed. “Royal—”
Drake drew a knife and sliced across the man’s throat. “Blood?”
Luckily for the terrorist prince it was a shallow cut, leaking only a little red. But the pain incensed him, as Drake hoped it might. Bending down he swayed and swung. Drake concentrated on the vulnerable spots, knowing constant pain would soon wear him down.
Alicia, Beau and Akatash flowed past the expansive picture window; bewitching, eternal views to their left, violence on a whole new level to their right. Beau engaged almost all of the bodyguard’s attention whilst Alicia darted in and distracted him. The Frenchman’s expression said it all.
I can handle this.
Alicia checked on Drake and saw him head-to-head with Ramses. Could she help both men? The notion was relatively fresh to her—until recently she’d only cared for one person in battle—one feisty, hard-assed heroine with an attitude on the wrong side of bad. Now though . . .
Hayden saw Smyth and Kinimaka were starting to struggle at the bottleneck. More legionnaires were coming and some were slipping through. She drew her gun and ran to help, picking them off one by one.
“Dahl!” she cried.
“Low on ammo,” Smyth rumbled, face like riven paving. “And no end to these fuckers.”
Hayden threw him an extra clip. She didn’t need to explain further. At this rate they would be using their knives soon. She scooped up the few discarded enemy weapons and piled them at Smyth’s back.
“This should help.”
Dahl clobbered those nearest to him and then ran among them, smashing left and right, using his gun only when there was no alternative.
Drake raised an arm as Ramses picked up a lamp and smashed it down on him. Pieces shattered everywhere. Drake grabbed the flapping cord and looped it around the giant’s neck, then physically leapt behind him, pulling hard. The cord tightened and the man screeched, the first sound of pain he’d made as yet. Drake leaned back as far as he could, hauling with all his strength and using every pound of weight. Ramses pushed the other way, veins bulging, hands scrabbling to get under the cord, feet planted as if they had taken root there.
Drake leaned as far back as he dared, shocked at how hard Ramses fought. An errant bullet split the air between them, fired by a sprinting legionnaire who then collapsed dead after being cleaved by Kenzie. It seemed that both she and Mai were almost finished with their knot of legionnaires and would soon be free to help. Drake hung on, heaving, and then Ramses faltered. Falling to one knee, he put a fist on the ground, gasping for breath. Drake knew that to let up would be to risk losing his advantage, and kept on pulling although the strength was draining from his muscles. Realizing he was close enough to reach Ramses with his boot he introduced it to the man’s spine, and then his lower back bone. Keeping the cord in place he then leapt high, coming down on Ramses’ exposed neck as hard as he could with an elbow.
The prince collapsed, groaning. Mai ran up. Drake panted and glanced at her.
“Great timing, love.”
The Japanese woman reached out a hand to help him up. “Been a while.”
“The best of friends don’t need to talk every day,” he said. “They pick up just where they left off. Even if it’s been years.”
Mai’s face turned speculative and Drake realized she might be reading a little too much into that. Ramses seemed to get a second wind then though, and kicked out. Drake knelt on his back and quickly tied his hands and legs with cord.
“See how you like it, asshole.”
Alicia kicked at Akatash’s legs as he jabbed away at Beauregard. One of her strikes caught him across the knee and buckled his leg, causing him to groan in pain. He fell to one knee, catching a shin across the face as Beauregard doubled his own efforts. Blood marked the bodyguard’s features. Akatash took another blow to the face without flinching and then struck out at Alicia as he rolled across the polished floor. Alicia felt a massive pain in the thigh, nerve clusters exploding, and collapsed in agony. Akatash was on top of her in an instant.
The grinning face was pressed up against her own, sweat and blood mixing. Alicia could barely twitch, let alone move, as he bore down, hands free and thumbs driving deep into her most painful pressure points. Alicia felt agony like never before, screwing her face up to scream, and every ounce of energy fled her system. Akatash reared back to deliver a devastating blow that would snap her neck.
Beauregard couldn’t stop him.
Even Drake, watching the extreme struggle and sensing its outcome, diving for a knife and flinging it end over end, was too late to save her.
Akatash struck.
Alicia stared up at the face of death, unable to move.
Her final thought:
Oh, Drake, we missed—
Then, the killing blow came and the pain struck her heart and brain and soul, but it was not Akatash’s blow. It was Beauregard, unable to stop the blow but managing to insert himself between Alicia and Akatash, taking the punch on his shoulder and then screaming with agony. Something snapped. Bones broke.
Beau whirled away from Alicia, leaving her groaning, grabbed hold of Akatash with one hand and slammed him up against the enormous window. The bodyguard tried to recover from his shock, flailing and kicking.
“So help me . . .” Beauregard said.
“Hey, Beau!” Kenzie shouted. “Does this help?”
She threw her great katana with full force, end over end, the long sword slicing the distance apart. Aimed high, it impacted above Beau’s head at the very center of the picture window. Akatash flinched. The glass cracked in the middle, crazy little lines running away from the impact point and bolting toward the edges. A piece fell, just a shard, and then a larger piece. A wedge the size of a paving flag crashed down into the room, shattering. Akatash was suddenly aware of the screaming wind at his back and the endless drop.
Beauregard tightened his grip. “One more who will not be missed.”
He smashed Akatash again and again into the cracking window until his body weight made it shatter completely, glass showering in both directions all across its vast expanse. The deep, lush valley suddenly felt a great deal closer.
Dahl stepped in. “Need help?”
Beau glared into Akatash’s eyes. “Not today.”
He flung the bodyguard into high, thin air, the vast drop yawning below.
The problem was, Akatash had not given up. His flailing arms and hands had caught hold of Beauregard’s suit and taken hold with a death grip. As the Frenchman thrust with all his power, Akatash held on, and Beau went with him.
Through the window they went, Alicia now sitting up and screaming, Drake much too far away to help but sprinting anyway with Mai a step ahead. Akatash fell and took Beauregard down.
It was only the Mad Swede who stood close enough to help, and Dahl didn’t bat an eye nor hesitate a moment. He dived after Beau, straight through the shattered window and toward the longest drop he’d ever seen. With floundering hands he managed to grab hold of Beau’s legs before any kind of momentum took hold, then lay there, helpless. A second later and Alicia landed on his lower body, pinning him to the floor.
Beau prized Akatash off his bodysuit. The man fell away with steel in his eyes, holding Beau’s gaze until he began to tumble.
Dahl held on, still sliding forward, but Alicia was joined by Drake and Mai and between them they gently began to haul both men to safety. The glass scraped Dahl’s jacket and bare arms but he’d take that over a free fall any day. Minutes later and the group were sat in a tangled heap, sweating, panting and trying to recover.
Kenzie drifted over. “Looks like my kinda party. Can I join?” She reached down for her katana and then surveyed the other part of the room. Hayden, Smyth and Kinimaka had used the last of their bullets and were now down to knives. Luckily, Hayden found two grenades among their attacker’s bodies and managed to whittle their number down. The explosion caused a wall to collapse, further hampering the aggressors.
“Don’t you guys get it? Your boss has run away,” Hayden called to them. “Go home.”
Drake crawled over to the struggling Ramses and fashioned a gag for him. With a worried look he turned to Hayden.
“We can’t hurt, kill or lose this man. By his order the nuke goes off.”
Hayden let out a long, deep breath. “That I know, my friend. That I know. I think it’s time to call in the reinforcements and get the hell outta Peru, don’t you?”
“Maybe they have already found it?” Kinimaka suggested. “The nuke?”
Smyth grunted. “Not friggin’ likely.”
Ramses rumbled into his gag as if in affirmation of the angry soldier’s comment.
“We’ll put him on ice. Nobody knows we have him. Right?”
Nods all around. Beauregard was sitting up by now and Alicia along with him. Kenzie wondered if Dahl needed anything massaging and Drake eyed the distances between himself and Mai, Beau and Alicia.
Talk about complications.
But urgency stabbed at his heart. “We have no time to waste.” His muscles ached, his joints groaned, his blood dripped onto the floor. He forced himself upright. “If New York . . .” He faltered. “I can’t even think like that.”
Hayden took out her sat-phone and informed their back-up choppers to be prepared for a flight to the nearest friendly airfield where the Jetstream was already fueled and waiting. Dahl removed Kenzie’s hands and gently placed them onto her own knee.
“With all these infuriated terrorists running around with their newly purchased mega-weapons, dozens of cells fretting and waiting for Ramses’ order to push the button, and the certainty that America will strike back, we’re looking at another Armageddon scenario,” the Swede pointed out.
Drake patted himself down. “Then we’d best be on our way.”
Mai nodded. “I’m with you.”
The rest of the SPEAR team walked through bodies and blood to stand together. Far away, through the picture window, a civilian-heavy city never slept and never closed down. It thrived now and built on the foundation of its past, growing stronger in the face of those who sought to bring it down, the bastion of the free world.
It had no idea what was coming. And neither did its population.
Drake, the soldier, and his team made ready. There would be no down-time this time, not even a minute.
Next stop,
he thought.
New York.
THE END
Please read on for more information on the future of the Matt Drake world.
I hope you enjoyed
The Last Bazaar
, which offers a break from the archaeological treasure hunting and presents a new style to the Drake stories. Next up—
The Edge of Armageddon (Matt Drake 13
)—will do the same whilst hopefully becoming the fastest-paced book I have ever written. At least, that’s the sight I have set. It will release early April, so not too long to wait. I’m planning a stand-alone Torsten Dahl novel for the middle of 2016 and already working very hard on the details. After that it’s Alicia 3 or Drake 14.
Beyond that look out for regular, signed paperback giveaways on my Facebook page:
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