The Matt Drake Boxset 6

by David Leadbeater

  There will be a chance. We just need to be ready, to recognize it.

  The guards watched her watch them. To be fair, they weren’t half bad, a few always standing well back, away from the bars, overseeing all and remaining indistinct. Alicia wanted to bait them, to anger them, force them into a mistake, but unfortunately it appeared none of them spoke English, which took the wind well and truly out of her sails. All she could do was transmit her disdain through her gaze and, to her credit, she thought she was doing a pretty good job.

  Alicia shifted, accidentally kicking Yorgi. This was another problem. They were cramped, thrown side by side in this small cell and then chained together. Chained to the wall. Chained by the legs and the wrists.

  A knocking sound echoed through the cell, drawing everyone’s attention. A new man stood there, Uzi poised across the slate, the barrel inching from target to target.

  “My name is Saint.” He laughed. “I know! Crazy, huh? I’m your jailer, your new direct boss. What I say, you do. When I say it, you jump, or bend, or crawl. You drink when I tell you. Eat when I tell you. Sleep if I let you.” He paused. “Is that clear?”

  Alicia glared back with utter contempt.

  Drake said, “Why are we here?”

  Saint shook his head very slowly. “You don’t listen. I knew you wouldn’t listen. All right, then. Here’s lesson number one.”

  He shot Yorgi.

  The Russian thief screamed, scrambling in the dirt on the floor of the cave. Kinimaka and Smyth, the closest to him, leaned over to steady his writhing body. Chained together, he pulled on all of them, making the rough iron chafe and bloody their wrists and ankles, pulling their limbs to and fro.

  Yorgi took an enormous breath, tried to steady himself. The bullet had grazed his thigh, traveling by. Smyth’s hand staunched the blood loss.

  “In case you’re wondering,” Saint said. “My aim isn’t off. It’s perfect. I could take an eyebrow off a stag at a thousand yards. I could take your nose off—” he nodded at Drake “—or shoot one up your ass. Perfect.” He looked to Alicia. “I know you don’t wanna be here. But you are. And I’m in charge, so get fucking used to it.”

  “Yessir, boss.” Smyth couldn’t help himself. “Whatever you say.”

  Saint whipped out a wicked looking knife, letting the serrated blade glint in the light. “I’m also good with this,” he said softly. “In fact, I skinned a man alive just last night. Right here. Took me hours. But then,” he looked up, “practice makes perfect, eh?”

  Nobody spoke.

  “Well, that’s a little better. I don’t expect answers. I know who you are. What you are. Team SPEAR.” He laughed. “What a prize. If only my orders were different I’d have half the world’s terrorists on their way down here, ready to make a highest bid for you. I’d make a fortune. But—” he sighed “—that’s just a wet dream. And speaking of wet dreams,” his black eyes moved across the women, “I see four right here.”

  Alicia knew it was a test, a provocation issued to see if they needed another demonstration. For now, nobody did and Saint took it as another sign of acquiescence.

  “Good, good,” he said, tapping first his gun and then his knife against the bars. “I see we’re gonna get along. Now I do realize you have no idea what’s going on. I do realize you’re all dying to find out. And I do realize you’re all hungry, thirsty and uncomfortable.” He let out a peal of laughter. “So . . . on that note, I’ll bid you goodnight.”

  He turned away, speaking quite clearly to the guards as he went.

  “No food. No water. And keep it unpleasant.”

  Spoken in Romanian, Kenzie translated for the team. “They have to be the mercs from the first tomb,” she said. “Or part of them. I wonder what they want.”

  “Well, we did kill a lot of them.” Dahl watched Yorgi.

  “It is okay.” The young thief noticed everyone’s concern. “It burns, but is only a flesh wound.”

  “Wrap it cleanly,” Hayden said. “I’m guessing infection down here is rife.”

  “I will.”

  “I’m not liking this,” Crouch said. “Revenge? Maybe. But who do they bloody work for? It almost feels like a CIA op.”

  Hayden stared at him without emotion. “You know, I guess anything is possible. There are more off-the-books ops these days than sanctioned ones.”

  A machine-gun ratcheted, the noise cutting through the cave. When Alicia looked to the bars she saw a grinning man with jagged yellow and black teeth. Slowly, he held a finger up to his mouth, revealing bleeding gums.

  “Shhh.”

  Water came creeping into the cell, soaking the floor. Alicia rose with the others, the process incredibly complicated with them being chained together. She guessed this was more of the ‘unpleasant’.

  Forced to stand, the team passed a few more hours.

  The night was long. The guards came and went, seemingly randomly, joined by those that just wanted to take a look. The random aspect to things only made it all the harder. Alicia saw no way out—at least no way without taking casualties. Real casualties.

  “If we thought being on the run was grim,” she said. “It was a walk in Hyde park compared to this.”

  “Shhh!”

  “Oh, go snog a sand spider.”

  The guards attacked the bars then, sticking long knives through and jabbing at the captives. Alicia took a blow to the bicep, felt the blood flow. Hayden cried out from a deeper cut; Dahl from a longer slash. The team rattled their way to the center of the cell, sloshing in water, only a hand’s length away from the hacking blades.

  Yorgi bit his lip until it bled, already suffering.

  “Nice work, shit-for-brains,” Kenzie whispered in Alicia’s ear.

  Alicia studied her wound. “Yeah, I was hoping they’d just stab you.”

  Then Saint returned, calling the guards back from the bars, laughing to see their predicament. “Well, well, the SPEAR team humbled. I do love seeing this. Wait, just wait . . .” He rushed off, returning in half a minute.

  “Hold that pose.”

  He took a photo on his cellphone, chuckling all the while. The laughter turned incredibly evil toward the end.

  “And this is only the beginning,” he said. “The night before the storm. The calm before the thunder and violence. Oh, how I look forward to tomorrow!”

  He skipped away, happy.

  Alicia closed her mind away for a while, unwilling to accept this situation. It won’t last. They had several of the best leaders, soldiers and fighters in the world among them.

  But tomorrow was always going to come.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Morning dawned outside the cave network, throwing lustrous rays through the opening and onto the dusty floor. Alicia had given up standing the night before, along with all the others, and now sat in a slurry of dirt, soaked through, her back against the mountain wall, as far away from the guards as was possible. The rest of the team were seated around her, arrayed as best and as restfully as they could be under the circumstances.

  During the night, the guards had broken out several small toys. One, a mini-crossbow like a child’s toy, could fire toothpicks, small nails, stones and other sharp implements at a fast and bruising rate. The guards appeared to start gambling on who could make the best shot, elicit the loudest cry of anger, strike certain areas.

  It all fuelled Alicia’s fire.

  She restrained it, nurtured it, made ready to release it all when that chance arose.

  Saint arrived half an hour later.

  “Oh, hey.” He looked around and then back the way he’d just come. “They didn’t bring your breakfast? No coffee and bacon? Oh, shit, well, never mind that. I came with news. Who wants a bit of fun interrogation?”

  The team generally ignored him, but those that were watching didn’t let their eyes waver.

  “C’mon, kids. It’s all good. A finger here, a toe there. I promise to be precise. No ragged edges . . .” He grinned and spread h
is arms. “Or you could just talk to me.”

  “You need to make your mind up,” Smyth growled. “They’ve been telling us to shut up all night.”

  “Ah, well, I am in charge after all. Not you. Anyway, was that a volunteer?”

  Smyth grinned back. “Whatever, man.”

  “I see you had a nice cool night. Don’t worry, it’ll start to warm up again soon. And I mean really warm up. The temperature in here can rise to a dangerous level. Luckily though—” he swigged from a plastic bottle “—we all have more than enough water.”

  He poured the remainder onto the floor before their eyes.

  Alicia unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You do know a time will come when we get out of here?”

  “Oh, yeah, Alicia Myles, I really do. In fact, that’s gonna be later today. And then the games really will start!”

  He turned away as another man came running up, clearly more than just a colleague to Saint.

  “Bud, you gotta come and look. They fired us an email across, showing us what happened. FrameHub, I mean. They launched their demonstration, just a dose of what they’re capable of.”

  Crouch leaned into the chained circle. “FrameHub? I don’t get it. Why are they interested in us and what does it have to do with the seals? Shit, what are we missing?”

  “Hey, Liam,” Saint said. “What did they do?”

  “Stopped a vital dam working in Egypt. Poisoned some kids in the isolation ward in a hospital in Greece. Suffocated six workers in Turkey. All CPU-based shit.”

  Saint was grinning now. “This, I gotta see. Give me a moment, bro, I’m trying to decide which one of these assholes I start snipping.”

  Liam gawked. “Gotta be one of the hotties, bro. Let the guys pass her around a while; soften her up.”

  “You can fucking try.” Alicia was up and at the bars faster than the new merc could blink, her sudden adrenalin dragging the others with her. With the small space she created, she took the opportunity to jab three stiffened fingers at his eyes.

  Liam squealed and staggered back, holding his face. Saint shook his head in bewilderment. “Bro, you are a fucking pussy. And not too bright. Get the hell outta here. I’ll be up in a minute.”

  Liam staggered away, moaning.

  Saint affected a look of embarrassment. “Yeah, I know, I know. And he’s one of the brightest. So look, we gonna do this the hard way or the fun way?”

  Alicia gripped the wooden bars, trying to see more of the cave system. The entrance seemed composed of only a brash brightness that left imprints on her eyeballs. The way that led further into the system vanished into darkness, inadequately lit.

  Drake and Dahl came forward a little, dragging Kinimaka with them, the three making a formidable wedge at the front of the little chain-gang.

  “You may have taken our weapons,” Dahl said. “But, since you’re such a nice, chatty jailor, I have to warn you. We’re not defenseless.”

  Alicia also knew what everyone else knew. They were required alive. If not, they’d be rotting in a hole in the desert by now.

  “Oh, really?” Saint boomed. “Thanks for that wonderful moment of insight. I’ll promise to be careful. Now . . . see how we do things.”

  He turned to the gathered guards. “I want the old one there. Near the bars. Bring him to me now.”

  Alicia saw they meant Crouch and felt a stab of anguish. The doors were opened and the team crowded around. Guns were leveled at them, some wavering. Drake and Dahl bunched at the front, with Kinimaka covering Crouch. The others all bunched in.

  “All right,” Saint came inside, “we do it the fun way.”

  He held up a Walther, aimed it at Mai’s leg and fired. The bullet flashed a millimeter past, the burn singeing her pants leg. He fired another in-between Dahl’s legs, higher than was comfortable, the bullet missing and then burying itself into the ground.

  He whipped his knife around, slicing Alicia and Drake, darted back, and raised the Walther again.

  “I can do this shit all day.”

  “You do that,” Dahl hissed. “Just get the hell out of our house.”

  He kicked out, catching a guard in the ribs. The man folded and Drake reached down for the discarded weapon, only to be brought up short by his chains. Dahl tried to bend too, but the steel was just too short and tight.

  “All right. Just take the old fool.” Saint backed out.

  More guards flooded into the cell until movement was hard. They tugged on the chains, two, three at a time, shuffling Drake and Dahl to where they wanted them. Punches and kicks were meted out. Kinimaka was stabbed in the thigh until he fell, blood flowing from the wound. Hayden cried out and fell to her knees beside him, dragging Kenzie with her. The movements upset the chain and sent everyone tottering, steel scraping skin, and chains pressing into bone. Rifle butts were used too, on exposed heads and without mercy. Drake could not move as a gun was smashed over his skull, three times.

  More guards squeezed by the scene of the punishment and grabbed hold of Crouch. They removed his manacles from the chain and dragged him clear; their colleagues still fighting with Dahl, Smyth and the others. Alicia could barely move but managed to trip a guard and hook a hand around his throat when he fell.

  She gripped the larynx, crushed it as hard as she could. His gun was trapped beneath his body, inaccessible to Alicia. Such were the breaks.

  A boot smashed down onto her cheek and stayed there, pushing her face into the hard dirt, exerting more pressure until the blood pounded in her brain. In the end she gave up her grip on the larynx, preferring to fight another day. Still the boot pressed down and another pounded on her back for a while. Someone bruised Drake, because she heard him cry out.

  At last, the pressure eased and the guards went away. She looked up, hurting, to see Saint still standing outside their cell.

  Crouch stood at his side, hands cuffed behind his back, a gun at his temple.

  “You see?” Saint said pleasantly. “I hate to say I told you so, kids. But I did, and I guess that’s why I earn the big bucks. I could pop this prick right now, blow his brains out. You want that?”

  Alicia felt her heart lurch, tried to move. The others did the same. Chains rattled and restraints clinked.

  “You see? A soldier loses his edge when he loves. That’s how it is.”

  “I’d say—” Dahl grunted and heaved as he rose to his knees, dragging three others with him “—quite the opposite.”

  “They call you the Mad Swede, am I right? I can see why. Now, simmer down for a while. Conserve your energy ’cause you’re gonna need it.”

  “Where are you taking him?” Alicia asked. “Why?”

  “Just up a ways,” Saint answered. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to hear him. This prick’s gonna get a very sharp talking to.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  “Come on. Come on!” Alicia berated them all. “Come up with a damn plan. They’re torturing him up there!”

  The screams had endured for the best part of half an hour now, with little let up. They could hear Saint laughing, shouting, cajoling. Drake had dragged them all around the cell, ignoring the guards and their torments, searching for a weak spot. They found nothing. Now, those in the middle of their huddle were attempting to find a fault in their chains.

  A guard shouted at them in Arabic. Alicia spun and hurled a rock at him. The missile struck the bars but made him jump back in shock. No weapons were raised. Again, the temperature was their enemy, rising by the minute and making everything more uncomfortable. Crouch’s screams were unrelenting, and Alicia knew he was once a trained soldier.

  Retired, living his life more hassle-free.

  They should never have gotten involved. Crouch was living a fantasy and they were on the hoof, runaways. Hunted. Where would it all end?

  FrameHub were chasing something, not just conflict between nations. The American splinter cell were chasing something, not just the downfall of SPEAR. Luther was chasing something,
not just death and destruction. The Chinese and the British were chasing something, not just the Sword of Mars. And now she, and all her friends, were caught in the middle.

  The only way out was to finish it. End it all so they could come out the other side and taste the freedom once more.

  Then Crouch’s screams abruptly stopped. A strangled cry rang out, and then nothing. Alicia stared fearfully up the passage.

  A guard spoke in Arabic, laughing. Kenzie translated it: “We return him to you later. A part every hour.”

  Then Alicia saw them gathering—a dozen guards and then more. Guns were poised and so were other weapons. Some held clubs, baseball bats and even rocks. Others brandished steel bars and one, a heavy leather whip. Alicia rose slowly as she sensed something big was happening.

  Drake and Dahl shushed the others, everyone rising to their feet as a silence settled. Alicia got the impression that they were about to find out exactly why they were here.

  Saint came rushing up. “Hey, hey,” he called. “I’d forget my own head if it were loose.”

  “What have you done to Michael?” Alicia asked.

  “Urm, he’s helping us with our enquiries. Or he was. But never mind that. You people have far worse problems to worry about.”

  Alicia bit her tongue, tensing every muscle in her body. The rage was waiting to be unleashed.

  “We’re taking you out of there. Now, we doing it the fun away like before or are you gonna come quietly?”

  “Looking forward to cracking your skull.” Dahl rolled both shoulders.

  The guards attacked as before. This time Kinimaka smashed an opponent’s skull, leaving him prone and unmoving. Dahl rendered two more unconscious, but still the range of movement was crippling, the confines thwarting every attempt to gain an advantage. The guards had weapons, fresh hands. They had once been soldiers themselves.

  Five minutes and Alicia was outside the cell, her hands cuffed at her back, legs hampered by more manacles set at a length that hindered movement. The others waited at her back, dripping blood and flesh torn. They were all soaked through, sweating freely and filthy. Alicia was glad to see heads held high and faces unflinching.