by Matt Rogers
‘How do you propose we do that?’
‘Hold onto something.’
With a roar of recognition, the Cobra’s engine responded to a press on the accelerator. King’s stomach dropped as the massive armoured vehicle roared towards the barricade, travelling faster with each passing second.
He guessed they would hit the parked vehicles at close to sixty miles an hour.
Raul baulked as he realised what was about to happen. The man reached over with the verve of someone terrified beyond belief, fumbling frantically for the steering wheel, desperate to correct the Cobra’s course.
King battered his hand away. ‘You want to see your mother and sister again?’
‘Yes. But we’ll die if we do this.’
‘We might. But we’ve got more of a chance than any other option.’
They got close enough for King to make out individual faces in the blockade. The Movers were either reloading or firing, their gaze fixed on the armoured behemoth charging straight at them. Their small-arms fire did nothing to penetrate the Cobra’s hull. King flicked his vision across the ranks, searching for any kind of weapon that posed a threat.
He saw it.
An old-school RPG-7 shoulder launcher resting on the collar bone of a skinny thug crouched behind a battered pick-up truck.
The guy rose from his position and took aim, pointing a bulky warhead directly at King. King locked eyes with him through the windscreen and knew he was staring death in the face. The warhead was a PG-7VR, designed specifically with armoured vehicles in mind. Shaped like a miniature space shuttle, the huge explosive contained two separate warheads — one for crippling the exterior and then a second delayed explosive that would pass through the newly created gap and detonate further inside the hull in spectacular fashion. If it hit the Cobra, he and Raul would die instantaneously.
He had to do something to deter the Mover’s aim in the next few seconds.
In one fluid motion he unbuckled his seatbelt and scrambled further back inside the Cobra, leaving the vehicle driverless. Raul screamed, a cry of surprise that ripped through the cabin. King snatched up the closest pair of M32 launchers and dove for the porthole. No further action was necessary other than looping a finger in each trigger guard and firing. He’d made sure the launchers were primed and ready for use back at José’s compound.
There were six 40mm grenades in each launcher.
He stuck both barrels out the top of the Cobra, aimed in the general direction of the Movers’ barricade, and pumped each trigger until both weapons clicked empty.
Twelve total rounds, fired in the space of a couple of seconds. It was highly unlikely that all would hit their mark, but that wasn’t King’s intention.
Hopefully, enough chaos had been caused by the sudden barrage of explosives that the Mover with the RPG would hesitate.
King made it back into the driver’s seat mere seconds after leaving it, discarding both empty launchers on the way through. He felt his chest vibrate as the grenades hit home, detonating against the sides of cars and thunking into the concrete dock. Raul’s eyes boggled in his skull at the sight.
King had no time to admire his handiwork.
They were a few dozen feet away from impact.
He saw the cluster of vehicles ahead rushing up to meet them. The Cobra would crush through the blockade at any moment. After that, there was no telling what would happen. King lurched to get his seatbelt back on, at the same time realising he had miscalculated a few things. The impact would be beyond devastating. But there was no time to back out now.
‘No, no, no,’ Raul whispered, gripping the sides of his seat as tight as he could, knuckles white, sweat dripping off his brow.
‘Fuck,’ was all King had time to say before the Cobra obliterated the vehicles in its wake.
The collision shook him far worse than the impact with the gate. His whole world spun. His vision blurred. The leather over his shoulder bit into his skin with incredible force, sending pain flaring through his chest. The sensory overload incapacitated him, making him unable to work out where they were, whether they were still travelling forward, if they had passed through the barricade or not.
When he got a grip on reality, he instantly realised they were no longer on flat ground.
The Cobra had overturned.
He felt the power behind its enormous bulk as the wheels on the left-hand-side lifted off the concrete. The Cobra had been thrown off-balance by the jarring collision. Carried by its own momentum, the vehicle entered an unstoppable barrel-roll, bursting through the barrier of vehicles. Tearing metal and flying car parts raged all around them. King reached out for any kind of handhold he could find.
His heart thumped hard in his chest. He had no idea whether he would survive the next few seconds. A certain acceptance occurred when a situation was thrown into the hands of fate. There was nothing he could do but hold on for dear life and hope that the Cobra came to rest somewhere safe.
He saw nothing but a blur as the vehicle rolled. Its ceiling slammed into the dock, sending all the loose weapons in the cabin flying. Then it rolled again. King managed a single fleeting glance out the windscreen and bit his tongue out of shock.
They would roll over the lip of the dock.
‘Come on!’ he screamed, urging the Cobra to carry enough momentum to bridge the gap. If it dropped into the space between the port and the cruise ship, they would be trapped in a watery grave.
‘Oh my God,’ Raul said.
There came the familiar stomach drop as the Cobra rolled off the dock and became airborne. Raul screamed. King grit his teeth. Both scenarios that could possibly unfold would carry consequences with them. He hadn’t expected them to end up in this situation. Either they would fall into the ocean, or hit the side of the cruise ship still upside-down.
Accompanied by a sound similar to a bomb going off in his ears, King felt the Cobra plough into the ship’s exterior.
With twenty-six thousand pounds of weight behind it, the vehicle simply demolished the wall. It tumbled inside the ship, buckling steel and destroying plaster and wood and furniture. Under its bulk, the floor of the room they entered gave out. King’s stomach dropped for the second time in the space of the minute as the Cobra fell a storey.
It came to rest on its side, surrounded by debris and destruction.
King slammed against his seatbelt. His neck whipped back. He struck the back of his head against the hard plastic casing of the driver’s seat and his vision blurred. He let his arms dangle as he struggled to bring his heart rate under control, still suspended by the leather across his chest.
He coughed hard and took a deep breath.
They were alive.
He glanced across and saw Raul still straining to hold onto his seat. His eyes were squeezed firmly shut. His face was a pale, sweaty mask.
‘We’re okay,’ King said, more to reassure himself than Raul.
Raul opened his eyes and looked around. ‘What the hell…’
‘Are you hurt?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Adrenalin?’
Raul nodded. King understood the feeling. Seconds after preparing to meet death, the man was so hopped up with nervous energy that it made assessing his wellbeing next to impossible. He could have a plethora of broken bones and still feel fine for the next few minutes.
‘But you can move?’
‘I think so.’
‘Let’s get the hell out of this thing. We’re nowhere near out of this.’
Compared to the insanity of the port, the eerie silence inside the cruise ship unnerved King. He unbuckled his belt and dropped against the side of the interior, resting one foot against the cracked windscreen. Then he helped Raul out of his seat. The man’s hands shook uncontrollably. King didn’t blame him.
From somewhere outside, he heard the muffled din of conflict raging. The exchanging of gunfire. The reverberations of grenade blasts.
‘What’s happening out there?’ Rau
l said as they clambered along the Cobra’s interior. ‘Who’s attacking Rico?’
‘I’m just as confused as you are,’ King said. ‘But let’s focus on what we need to do. We have all the time in the world to work that out later.’
‘It’s a convenient distraction, at least,’ Raul said.
King sifted through the mess of objects scattered across the floor of the Cobra. All the loose items had been churned around the interior like a washing machine during the roll. He found a fully loaded HK417. He looped the strap over his shoulder and slotted a finger into the trigger guard. For extra caution, he stuck a couple of spare magazines into his rear pockets.
That would do.
Overloading himself with an arsenal of weaponry would be ineffective at such close quarters. A single high-powered assault rifle was adequate.
Raul picked up an identical gun with a curious look on his face. King assumed the man had zero training with modern weaponry and counted him out of whatever lay ahead. If he wanted to eliminate Rico, he would have to do it himself.
They clambered out of the hole in the Cobra’s ceiling, which now rested on its side. King observed the scene around them.
Their entrance had caused substantial damage. The roof over their heads had been mangled beyond belief, taking the full brunt of an armoured vehicle before giving way. They had come to rest in what appeared to be one of the dining rooms, a long low space with tiles the colour of oatmeal and walls the colour of mahogany. Identical circular tables covered in white cloths spanned all the way up to a deserted dance floor and bar. The furniture within a dozen-foot radius of the Cobra had either been smashed into oblivion or thrown across the room with considerable force. The vehicle had left a trail of destruction in its wake.
Meals hadn’t been served in the premises for what looked to be years. Dust lay over everything. King felt the structure groan around him and began to get a sense of just how large the ship truly was. Simply finding a Mover in this gargantuan maze would be a sizeable task.
He searched for an exit door and found one. An empty doorway, leading into a narrow corridor that spiralled away into the bowels of the ship. It was as good a place to start as any. He took a step in that direction.
Then he looked again and realised the doorway was occupied after all.
Rico stood in the lee of the hallway outside, staring at them with unmasked surprise on his face. He must have seen their catastrophic entrance with his own eyes. The coincidental nature of his location hadn’t given King enough time to react properly. He found himself a beat slower than usual. Which put him in a messy situation.
Rico levelled a pistol at his head at the same time that he brought the own barrel of his HK417 up. No-one fired. Both men had a subtle awareness of each other’s talent, an unspoken recognition that each of their reflexes were honed enough to ensure two deaths if either one fired.
‘Well, that was a coincidence, wasn’t it?’ Rico said, his voice echoing through the empty room.
CHAPTER 43
King didn’t respond. Raul had frozen with his barrel aimed at the floor, not fast enough to be involved in the stand-off. He observed the situation with shaky hands — aware that one wrong move would set off a chain reaction that would kill all three of them in a hail of bullets.
Rico smiled devilishly. His teeth were still blood-stained. A filthy bandage had been wrapped tight around one of his trouser legs. He was visibly keeping his weight off it. Heavy bags rested under the man’s eyes. It seemed like he hadn’t slept since King had seen him last. The stress was leeching from his bones.
Something was off.
‘I see José got you to deliver my truck for him,’ Rico noted, keeping up the facade of superiority. ‘Awfully kind of you.’
‘It’s not much use now,’ King said. ‘What are you doing down here?’
‘We keep some heavy weapons down in these rooms,’ Rico said. ‘Looks like we need them.’
King flicked his head back, motioning to the dock outside. ‘Seems like we got here just ahead of someone else. Who’s attacking you?’
‘From what I saw, it seems to be our closest competitors.’
‘Is that a surprise?’
‘It is,’ he admitted. ‘We will crush them, though.’
‘Timing’s awfully convenient.’
‘Exactly what I was thinking,’ Rico said. ‘It seems they’ve paid you a healthy sum to be the spearhead.’
‘We haven’t been paid anything.’
‘I’m sure…’
‘Can we reach a truce?’ King said. ‘My friend here wants his mother and sister back. Give them to us, and we’ll leave you alone. Then you can deal with whatever the hell just happened out there.’
Rico laughed cruelly. ‘Really? You think I’d do that? The second I lower this gun you’ll shoot me in the head. I don’t blame you. I’d do the exact same to you.’
‘I—’
With his free hand Rico raised a finger. ‘No. Don’t even try. I know exactly what’s going on in your head. You’re furious that I killed your friend in El Infierno. You’re hiding it very well, but you hate me with a passion. I’m dead the second I consider trusting you.’
King didn’t say anything in return, because the man was right. ‘So what happens now?’
‘We’re in a bit of a situation, aren’t we?’
‘We are.’
‘I have other matters to tend to.’
‘You’re not going anywhere.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘Pretty sure. Tell me one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
King paused for a moment, trying to wrap his head around how much chaos had unfolded over the last few days. ‘Why put me through all this shit?’
Rico cocked his head.
‘Why bother?’ King said. ‘You could have just shot me in the head back before any of this took place. Why’d you throw me in El Infierno to try and get answers out of me? I ruined your whole operation. Now you’re under attack. You’re injured. Everything’s scrambled. You could have killed me quickly and moved on.’
Rico nodded along, as if agreeing with everything King was saying. ‘I needed to let out a little rage. I wanted to watch you suffer.’
‘That didn’t go so well for you.’
‘I underestimated you. Truth is — you weren’t the sole cause of the breakdown of communications with our supplier. They were offended that we didn’t show up to the meeting. They threw insults at how we operate. So I slaughtered the pair they sent to meet us. That’s why everything’s gone to shit. Because I can’t control my temper.’
‘Wait,’ King said. ‘So it’s your own fault?’
Rico nodded and grinned. ‘Still, you were the perfect fall-back to take out my frustrations on. I would have imploded otherwise.’
‘Because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time?’
‘I thought you might be working for one of my competitors for a while. But even when I started to realise that it was an almighty coincidence, I kept you in there. Just for fun. Degrading you gave me that release.’
‘Guess you didn’t expect me to adapt as well as I did.’
‘I can’t say I did,’ Rico said, and shrugged. ‘But you didn’t adapt to this very well. What’s the plan after you kill me?’
‘Find Raul’s family. Get out of here.’
‘Good luck. You’ll never make it out of this shipyard. Either we’ll kill you, or our competitors will.’
‘You seem pretty sure of yourself.’
‘And before either of those scenarios unfold—’ Rico said, ‘—I’ll kill your family anyway, Raul.’
As he finished the sentence, he spun on his heel and pushed off with his good leg, taking off down the corridor. King had half a second to get a shot off, but he wasn’t fast enough. He fired twice. The bullets thudded into the hallway’s far wall, hitting nothing but wood.
And then Rico was gone.
CHAPTER 44
K
ing took off across the empty dining room, determined to stop Rico before any harm could be done. He heard Raul puffing behind him, following close. If Raul happened upon any more dead family members…
King couldn’t imagine the emotional consequences.
He let anger spur him forward. He kept a double-handed grip on the HK417, knowing that there was every chance Rico would be waiting on the other side of the doorway. It would only take one brash step too far to have his brains blown across the opposite wall.
Raul took the bait. He brushed past King, moving with the urgency of a man desperate to keep his family alive.
Exactly what Rico wanted.
King snatched him by the collar and tugged him back, stopping him from hurtling to certain death. As he did so, Raul reacted viciously, turning and swinging a fist in King’s direction. Furious that someone was preventing him from rescuing his mother and sister.
King dodged the wild outburst with ease and tightened his grip. He kept Raul locked in place, despite the man’s best efforts to break free.
‘Are you that fucking stupid?’ King snarled. ‘You’ll get yourself killed.’
He saw the raw emotion in Raul’s eyes and grimaced. The guy was in a bad place. King wasn’t sure if he could control him, even if he had the man’s best interests at heart.
‘Let me go,’ Raul spat. ‘Mamá’s up there. Ana’s up there.’
‘He’ll shoot you dead if you stay this reckless. I will do everything I can to get them back. But stay behind me. Okay?’
The tension dissipated and Raul nodded, overcoming the brief flood of urgency. King shoved the man behind him and re-adjusted his grip on the assault rifle.
He pressed forward.
The corridor was silent as they approached it. Either Rico was long gone, or he lay in wait just within the entrance, barrel aimed at the doorway. King tip-toed up to the gap until he could see a narrow sliver of the floor on each side, shrouded in shadow. He guessed the power had been cut years ago. Faint glimmers of natural light crept their way in, but apart from that the decrepit hallway was dark.