The Blood King Takedown

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The Blood King Takedown Page 16

by David Leadbeater


  “Call the President,” Kovalenko said between clenched teeth. “And re-open the airspace before I—”

  Dahl reacted, grabbing the man by the collar and hauling him forward. “Before you what? Blow us and yourself up? Kill us all? How you gonna do that? Your men are all dead or done. And if I’m being honest, I just don’t think you have the balls.”

  There were moments in Drake’s past, moments overflowing with so much tension he’d thought it could never get any worse. But standing here, watching the Mad Swede and the Blood King play for the highest and deadliest of stakes imaginable actually made him start to shake. To defuse the situation he turned away.

  “Where are we on the map?” he asked Kenzie.

  The Israeli shrugged but, before she could check, Cam stepped up.

  “Here.” He showed them his cellphone where a tiny blue dot indicated their position. “By my count, we’ve covered thirteen blocks. And we have . . .”

  “Fifteen,” Alicia said.

  “All right then, fifteen if you’re that sure. And we still have—”

  “Sixty minutes to stop that nuke,” Mai said.

  “Bollocks,” Drake said. “We put a hole in that three hours, didn’t we?”

  “Less talk,” Hayden said. “And more movement.”

  Drake made to move away, but Dahl and Kovalenko were still eyeing each other. Drake guessed the Blood King had some secret plan that required using the airspace, either a getaway or an attack. The authorities were right to close it down. He was surprised they hadn’t done so before, but of course they couldn’t underestimate Kovalenko’s threat to detonate the nuke. In any case, Kovalenko was sure to have more than one contingency ready. Twenty nukes had been built on Devil’s Island. By Drake’s reckoning, he still had another fifteen at his disposal to reinforce his bargaining power.

  Either way, the man who’d made the decision to close New York’s airspace was likely to be damned.

  “Kovalenko,” he said. “Accept defeat and move on. Dahl—back off.”

  The Blood King blinked and looked past the group to where his men were still either crawling or dead. The intense moment seemed to pass, at least for now. Dahl took another few moments, relaxing only when the Blood King turned away.

  Drake saw the black-haired woman lay a hand on Hayden’s shoulder and tensed, but she said, “Did you find them?”

  “I hope so. The White House is working on it, contacting local law enforcement and mobilizing. They’ll contact us when they’re done. But for now, I think you need to stay with us. Join us and help us.”

  “I will. I’m Shawnasee.” She nodded all round.

  “Bit of a mouthful,” Alicia said. “How about Knife Girl?”

  “Blade?” Mai suggested.

  “They call me Shaw for short.”

  “Shaw it is then.” Alicia nodded. “Now, let’s pick up this piece of shit and go find the fucking nuclear weapon.”

  Shaw’s jaw dropped.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Drake led them out into the street as Kinimaka tried to apologize all around.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Luther told him. “I always wondered if I could take you.”

  Kinimaka was too gracious and mortified to stand up for himself at that point. He went on apologizing until they’d all descended the library steps. He made a point of avoiding Kovalenko like the plague.

  “If I have to touch that man again, I’ll strangle the life out of him,” he muttered just once.

  Shaw stayed close to the Blood King with Cam backing her up. Drake liked the sight of the new blood helping out. He switched his gaze left and right as they waited for someone to call and tell them how Shaw’s family were doing.

  “My mother and baby sister,” she’d answered Hayden’s question. “They live in Florida.”

  It was around that moment that Cam walked over to support her.

  Drake’s stomach rolled in consternation at the sight that met his eyes outside the library. Across the street, he saw Spartak, somehow escaped from the mess inside the library and at the head of about thirty men. Further down the street, to the south, he saw dozens of figures approaching, walking through traffic and crowding the sidewalk. They had to belong to the mob. They were coming in force for Kovalenko.

  And then, screaming down a street from the west, a convoy of six police cars sped toward them.

  “We gotta move,” Dahl said. “This is madness.”

  “We’ll never make it,” Drake said. “We should go back inside the library.”

  Forces converged from three directions.

  “Check out the cops,” Cam said. “Maybe they’re legit this time.”

  “Can’t risk it,” Drake said. “A war’s about to kick off in this street.”

  Hayden’s phone rang. Shaw’s gaze switched to her like a guided missile. Hayden answered and then mouthed the words: No news yet. It was President Coburn’s chief advisor on the line.

  “You’re in deep shit.” The advisor wasn’t mincing his words today. “We have you on CCTV, on Heli-cam and on drone. We can see your predicament in real time. The police aren’t supposed to be on scene. Our contacts in the Russian mob and associated organizations aren’t listening. The Russian government aren’t involved, we believe. And Kovalenko . . . there has to be more to his plan than this. We believe that his threat to detonate if we send in the Army is real.”

  Hayden voiced her agreement.

  “There are no friendlies around you. No friendlies. The authorities were told to stand down. The population knows nothing. It’s all in your hands, Miss Jaye, and the hands of your team.”

  Drake didn’t bow under that responsibility. He hefted it across his shoulders and took the strain.

  “And we can help,” the advisor said. “First, the police have engaged Kovalenko’s men, which should give you a short window of time to get clear.”

  Hayden nodded as the team made their way north, watching every adversary. Drake had to remind himself that this whole escapade had been in motion for just two hours. Not much time to form a respectable plan.

  New York buzzed with vibrancy all around them, its residents getting on with their daily grind. Drake watched them warily, looking for any signs of adversaries. Luka Kovalenko glared at everyone.

  “Second, one block north and half a block west is a CIA waystation,” the advisor told them. “We’ve cleared it out. You’ll be safe for a short while. It’s a good size, so I suggest you hightail it there, regroup and re-arm yourselves, then make a final push for that nuke.”

  “Tick tock,” the Blood King whispered. “Tick tock.”

  Drake saw the benefits of the plan. All of them needed to reload. They were exposed on three fronts. The library idea was sound, but the waystation might be better. Also, they could replenish their dwindling ammo supplies. Hayden must have come to the same conclusion for she gave a swift order to move out.

  “Send me the coordinates,” she told the advisor and ended the call.

  They covered the ground as fast as they could. Drake focused on the street ahead and the block they had to cover. Hayden yelled out the name of a western intersection they should take. Shaw grabbed Kovalenko by the back of his collar and forced his feet to move, giving him the option of running or falling flat on his face. Cam was next to her, looking grim. The others guarded their perimeter and made sure civilians were out of the way.

  The junction came up fast. One more block covered. They dashed down the western branch, looking out for the address of the empty waystation.

  It came up fast, one of a row of small, block and brick buildings set back from the road with parking out front. Cars littered the tiny lot, parked at all angles as if the owners had cleared out quickly and on foot. Drake saw no sign of life.

  They crossed the road and cut through the lot, passing among the empty cars. In another few seconds they’d reached the correct address and stood outside the front door. Hayden hit it with her shoulder and fell inside when it burs
t open. Kinimaka picked her up.

  “That’s my job,” he said.

  “Falling over? Yeah, I know.”

  “Barricade the doors and windows as best you can,” Luther yelled. “Quickly!”

  The eleven-strong team jumped to it, finding a desk and chairs and filing cabinets and sliding them over to the doors and windows. In just a few minutes they had a respectable barricade. Luther and Molokai stood guard as the others dropped to the floor and took inventory of all their weapons and ammo.

  “I’ll find the armory,” Mai said. “Back in a few.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Cam said.

  Drake laid his weapons and ammo out on the floor. On the surface, it was a respectable tally, but they had no idea what was around the corner. They needed to load up with everything they could carry and, to be fair, a CIA waystation was as good a place as any to do that.

  In the corner, Shaw watched Kovalenko.

  Hayden waited for Mai, who came back with a selection of rifles, handguns, grenades and bullets. She made sure Shaw was well-armed and didn’t question her fighting prowess. This wasn’t the time, and if Kovalenko had made the effort to coerce her into being his bodyguard then she had to be exceptional.

  Minutes passed.

  Luther, at the window, spoke up. “I see dozens of men approaching. They’re taking cover among the parked cars. Spread out. I don’t see the cops nor Kovalenko’s men. You want us to lay down some warning fire?”

  “That’d be great, Luther.”

  Hayden turned away as her phone rang. Drake watched Shaw as Hayden stared carefully at a far wall, expression neutral. Before she’d finished, she sent Drake a warning glance.

  Drake walked over to the Blood King, ignoring Shaw’s look, and patted the man down. Kovalenko fixed him with an angry glare.

  “You already did that.”

  “Shut the hell up.”

  Hayden turned to Shaw and shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “They breached your Florida home only to find your mother and sister already dead. There was no sign of their killers.”

  Shawnasee sucked in a deep breath and held herself motionless. She might have stayed that way if Kovalenko hadn’t started to cackle to himself.

  “Such fun. Seeing you fight for me and knowing that your family were already dead. I took great pleasure in that, Shawnasee Smart.”

  The Native American screamed and leapt at him. Drake was in place and caught her before she could get too close to the Blood King. He grabbed both her arms and held them apart, twisted his body so she couldn’t bury her knee in his groin. He felt the strength in her, the wiry sinews, the vibrant power. She threw her head forward, trying to headbutt him, but Drake pulled his head away. She forced herself forward, still screaming, and he felt himself being driven backward.

  Kinimaka ran at her, stopping a few feet short. “Stop, Shawnasee, stop. I’m so sorry. But there’s another way.”

  Shaw snarled at him. “What would you have done if he’d killed your sister?”

  “Oh, I’d have buried the motherfucker alive but you’re better than me. I know it.”

  “You don’t know me!” Shaw wrenched and struck out at Drake, almost driving him to his knees.

  “First the nuke,” Kinimaka whispered. “Then his life.”

  Shaw turned her eyes toward him. Her lower lip was curled, her face twisted in anger. Her eyes were wild, livid. Drake was wilting under her fury. Dahl was running over to back the Yorkshireman up.

  Kinimaka held the Swede off. “No,” he said. “She’s with us.”

  Shaw pulled away from Drake, letting his momentum send him head-first to the ground at her feet. For precious seconds, she had a chance to strike Kovalenko with the knives at her waist.

  But she relented and turned to Kinimaka. “We do it your way.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  From behind the barricades, Luther spoke up. “We ready to roll?”

  “Tick tock,” the Blood King said with a grin.

  “Ready,” Dahl said, his word echoed by all.

  Molokai stiffened. “Ah, crap, here they come.”

  Drake dropped to the floor as gunfire rang out and bullets slammed into the building’s walls, shattering windows and thudding into the barricade. The noise was horrendous, sweeping over them. Bullets screamed overhead, passing above the barricade and slamming into interior masonry. From the back of the room Mai’s voice could barely be heard.

  “We have a problem.”

  Drake turned. “What?”

  “The agents may have gone but their prisoners haven’t.”

  Dahl’s jaw dropped. “There are prisoners back there? What is this, a black ops site?”

  “It could be. It makes sense to be localized in central New York to save time and there are just a few.”

  Drake scrambled over to her, staying low. Luther and Molokai returned fire from behind the barricade, sweeping the parking lot with bullets.

  “How many?” Drake asked.

  “Four. Separate rooms.”

  “We have to set them free.”

  Together, they slipped through the front room’s rear door and into an office. The tiny square-ish room was painted stark white, the floors lined with linoleum. A solitary desk and chair furnished it. Drake saw controls on the walls.

  “Which cells?”

  “I don’t know. There’s a small network of different rooms. Just open all of them.”

  Alicia was with them and muttered, “Shit, I hope they don’t have Hannibal the Cannibal back there.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ve beaten cannibals before,” Mai said.

  “It could be worse than cannibals,” Alicia said.

  “What could be worse than cannibals? Zombies?”

  “Shit, don’t jinx it, Sprite. If we come up against zombies next, I’m putting in for a very long vacation.”

  Drake flicked the switches. Mai ran through to the back of the building with Alicia at her side. “Get out of here,” the Japanese woman shouted at four surprised faces. “This place is under attack.”

  Two prisoners guffawed. One leaned against the wall outside his room his. “This I gotta see. Make my fucking day.”

  “The killers aren’t here for the agents,” Mai explained. “And they will shoot you.”

  “So get your deadbeat criminal asses out the back door,” Alicia said, firing at the ceiling for good measure.

  The criminals beat it. Mai and Alicia lingered, checking to see if anyone targeted them on the way out, but nothing happened. The coast was clear, at least for now. Drake asked the women to stay put and ran back to the front.

  “We can leg it out the back,” he said above the sound of gunfire. “Come on!”

  But at that moment, Alicia joined him. “Cops,” she said, “converging on the rear, and aggressive. Sent by Hodge, no doubt.”

  Drake cursed. Their options were dwindling. They had taken too long to replenish their supplies even though it had been but minutes. Luther and Molokai turned away from the barricade to reload, their places taken by Kinimaka and Kenzie.

  Drake checked on the Blood King. Hayden and Shaw were guarding the man now, their faces creased with worry.

  “We have less than an hour to deactivate that nuke,” Hayden said.

  “Tick—” the Blood King began.

  Shaw smashed him in the nose with the heel of her boot. “Shut the fuck up, shitstick,” she growled.

  Drake nodded in appreciation. “I like her.”

  Kovalenko groaned, almost crying in pain, his nose bloodied and bent on his face. If the scenario had been any less ugly, Mai or even Drake might have commented on the likeness to Alicia’s own nose, but this wasn’t the time.

  Drake tried Kovalenko once more, confronting him. “You’re running out of time,” he said. “We’re cut off. Nowhere to run. Enemies surrounding us. This is your last chance to survive.”

  The Blood King ignored him, spitting crimson at a nearby wall.

  D
rake paused as the gunfire started up in earnest again. Chips and splinters of wood and metal tore off their barricade, flying into the room. Chunks of mortar fell from the walls.

  “They’re storming the place!” Kinimaka shouted. “Give us some backup over here.”

  Everyone except Alicia rushed to the barricade, fell to their knees and found a spot to shove their guns through. Drake saw the small parking area full of men, all running with their heads down toward the waystation and firing their guns. He pulled his trigger, sending walls of lead into them. They didn’t have much room to maneuver. Bullets impacted all around him, but the barrier held firm. Men collapsed and died in the parking lot but still they came, highlighted by bright lights reflecting off the driving rain, each drop a silver sliver, surrounding them as they splashed and sprinted toward the waystation.

  Drake went for body shots after a quick reload. Even if they were wearing armor it would still drop the men outside. He kept an ear open for Alicia, who was guarding the back entrance, and worried that he hadn’t heard anything from her in a while.

  “Cover me,” he shouted.

  He whirled and scrambled for the door leading to the cells, rushing through it. The cells stood before him and, at the back door, Alicia knelt, watching something through the scope of her rifle.

  “All good?” he yelled.

  “Fuck.” She visibly jumped. “Drake, you asshole.”

  He ran to her side. “Thanks, love. What are you doing?”

  “The cops are fighting Kovalenko’s men in the alley out back.” She made way, giving him a glimpse outside.

  Drake licked his lips. It was crazy out there. Police were trading shots behind dumpsters and other obstacles with a gang of well-armed men. Drake could see the one named Spartak, directing his forces. The cops had just driven one of their cars into the alley at their assembled enemies.

  “I like it,” Drake admitted. “If we’re lucky they’ll kill each other.”

  “Stay on the comms,” Alicia said, “instead of creeping up on me.”

  Drake considered telling her he’d been worried and wanted to surprise any potential enemy but thought his explanation might well fall on deaf ears. Instead, he nodded and returned to the front, explaining to the others what was happening out back as he went.

 

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