Yorgi. The Russian thief was quiet as always; a part of the team but remaining aloof. He may have killed his parents in cold blood but Drake blamed them for the young thief’s state of mind. He would never recover, but still a trip out to that ice-cold Russian field stood firmly in their future.
And then there was Mai Kitano. With her personal life settling of late along with her grief at being forced to kill a low-key Yakuza player and then confront his daughter, Mai was taking it easy. Drake thought she might be scared to show up on anyone’s radar for fear of something else terrible happening to her or her family. Grace was fine though, living in Tokyo. Drake saw Mai passing time, probably hoping the next big event might finally turn out to be something good.
The team had been through hell these past years, no less recently with the attentions of Tyler Webb and his cache of secrets. Their current situation prevented them for searching for Webb’s motherlode, and of the few he’d revealed all but one was out in the open.
One of you is dying.
The toughest one of all. Drake didn’t want to believe it, but so far all of Webb’s statements had proven correct. He shrugged the moment of pessimism away, looking over as Crouch finally finished up and walked to the center of the room.
“Now that’s a mix of good and bad news,” the man said. “If ever I’ve heard one.”
The conversation died and every pair of eyes switched to him.
“Problem?” Dahl asked.
“Not immediate, but . . .” Crouch shook his head, clearly rattled. “First the good news. The plane is ready and fuelled close to Avram Airport. We have a private airfield nearby and a Cessna waiting. If we make haste now we can be in the air within the hour.”
“Not sure if anyone has asked yet,” Kinimaka said, “but when is this event?”
“Tomorrow night,” Crouch said. “We have time to fly in and get settled. Buy you lot some nice threads.”
“And the invites?” Drake imagined it would be hard rustling up ten invites at short notice.
“Already done,” Crouch admitted. “Days ago.”
“You know someone in the Egyptian secret service?” Dahl guessed. “And trust them completely? Our lives depend on it. We aren’t paparazzi-plagued celebrities, but then I guess people are hunting us down.”
“I covered it,” Crouch told them. “My responsibility. So,” he stared at Alicia. “Behave.”
“You talking to me, bro?”
“Oh, yes I certainly am. My reputation is at stake.”
Alicia made a point of staring askance at Kenzie. “It’s not me you need to worry about. It’s the sword maiden here.”
Crouch held up a hand. “All right, we can discuss that later. I have to say I’m expecting this to work, hoping we can end this threat and then get our heads together to help you all return to the fold. I have contacts that whisper in the President’s ear. I was hopeful.”
Drake cleared his throat. “Is this the bad news, mate?”
“Until earlier today I was pretty confident I could help bail you idiots out,” Crouch said. “Now . . . I’m wondering how many funerals I may have to attend.”
Dahl sat up. “Excuse me?”
“Luther,” Crouch said. “You may never have heard of him but the Americans have one giant ace up their sleeve. This man . . . he’s retro dynamite. A throwback to the dark ages. A warrior in the old sense of the word.”
“I’ve heard of Luther,” Hayden said quietly. “You’re saying they sent him after us?”
“I am. It’s confirmed. Whatever this splinter group in the American government is planning, it must be huge. Game changing. Using Luther for anything less would be like throwing a wrecking ball at a wall made of foam.”
“This Luther,” Dahl said. “Can he be stopped?”
Hayden took a deep breath. “Unlikely. He’s a bloodhound and doesn’t stay on the grid. He’ll receive no fresh updates, no communications. That’s one of the reasons he’s so dangerous and our government rarely resorts to using him. Luther will chase down his target, execute his orders, and then return home without making contact in between.”
“Well,” Drake said, “he doesn’t know where we are now. We’ll pop up in Egypt and then be gone.” He shrugged. “I suggest we worry about him later.”
Crouch gave him a look as if to say: “have you gone mad?”, but then shrugged. “The die is cast,” he agreed. “Sooner or later you will meet Luther and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Alicia unfolded her legs, rising to her feet. “I do like the sound of this guy,” she said. “He’s my type. And if I’m being honest—his name rings a bell.”
Drake stood with her. “Bloody hell, Alicia, do not tell me you’ve shagged him.”
“Well . . .”
“That’s a long list to sift through,” Mai said. “Give her a few days.”
“I’d remember,” Alicia said. “I’m sure I’d remember a man like that. Does he have a—”
Drake quickly tuned her out, knowing from experience that she was about to get even more explicit. Crouch’s reply: “how the hell should I know?” confirmed it. He wandered over to Dahl and met the Swede’s eyes.
“You happy with all this?”
“Egypt? I think we have to. We’re trusting Crouch’s judgment but he hasn’t steered us wrong before. Lauren will be on the inside in a day or two. I guess we should try to stay off this Luther’s radar as long as we can.”
“You scared of him?” Drake leaned in, playing a little mischief.
“Me?” Dahl protested. “I’m not even sure what the word means, pal.”
Drake thought he was probably telling the truth. “You’d impress me more if you were at least a little scared.”
“Fuck off, Drake.”
Crouch motioned that they should get packing. The team split and then met up again ten minutes later, backpacks ready and faces set. Hayden led them out into the cold and toward the vehicles, most of them taking a last look around what had become, for them at least, the only quiet safe haven they’d known in years.
On the run we find peace, Drake thought with twisted irony. What kind of soldiers have we become?
A valley fell away before them, across which a brisk wind blew, bringing with it the scent of flower-strewn earth. Drake took it all in, and then they were inside the cars, fiddling with the heating and the satnav, settling in for a short drive during in which they were unable to relax.
Some time later they were in the air, not sad to leave Transylvania but unsettled as to what may happen next. As if the splinter group hadn’t disturbed their lives enough there was now the threat of a supposed caveman called Luther. The plane rushed them all to Egypt, landing in an early darkness which couldn’t have been planned better. Under the cover of night, they exited and ran down an empty runway to a quiet hangar.
Crouch called in for the car, which met them ten minutes later and transported them to a hotel in Cairo. Busy, hazardous and loud, the city streets were a harsh reminder of life after the tranquil peace they had experienced this last few days.
“A few hours’ sleep,” Crouch said, “and then we need to prep for tomorrow night. For the gala. Planning and research will be everything because, as we know, it’s not just the whole world watching.”
“It’s Big Brother himself,” Drake nodded, “in all his meanest guises.”
“If anyone can do it, we can,” Hayden said. “We’re the best.”
“Used to be,” Smyth said. “Don’t forget we’re skating lightly now.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Alicia said. “And here’s another—let’s all fuck off to bed ’cause tomorrow’s a bitch and to ride her properly, we’re gonna need every ounce of energy.” She turned away. “Night all.”
Drake stared at the floor. “I have to sleep with that.”
Alicia looked back. “We could always stick Yorgi down the middle.”
The Russian looked terrified and quickly left the room. Drake fought to
come to terms with the change of environment and the mounting pressure surrounding tomorrow night. Just like that, in an instant, they had to be at the top of their game.
This team, now more than ever, needed each other. Mentally as well as physically. In truth, he saw the upcoming gala as an interesting distraction provided they could fathom a foolproof escape. The team would gel, work for each other; they always did.
He watched Hayden and Kinimaka skirting around each other; Dahl and Kenzie strangely at odds whilst clicking; Smyth more worried and irascible than ever; Mai looking lonely as she wandered toward the stairs, cellphone in hand; Alicia still looking back at him and then surveying the room too.
“We’ll be all right,” she said. “All of us.”
“I know that,” Drake said quickly. “I know that.”
He wished he felt as sure as he sounded.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Drake had been interested to see how the Egyptians would pull this off—a glitzy, high-profile show originating from a tomb with its contents in-situ, fortunately not too far from Cairo and the Giza plateau. It reminded him of the initial Odin show that the city of York had hosted, back when he was between careers. It reminded him of the danger-laden, ever-winding path his life had taken since.
The tomb entrance had been draped with enormous, velvet-red curtains, a stage erected outside and five steps constructed to lead up to that stage. A band played to one side, dressed in their finest suits, and high-profile glamorous guests mingled to the other, all pretending that the spotlights following their every move didn’t exist. At the base of the stage stood rows of cameras and then a roped-off enclosure where members of the press and public were allowed to stand. A red carpet led straight through the middle.
Around the outside, the desert surroundings were untouched, dark and vast, but the television cameras wouldn’t be focusing there. Behind the curtains, Drake saw nothing. The big unveiling was still a while away.
The team were hardly recognizable in their fashionable outfits. From suits in gray, black and deep blue for the men that fitted well and felt intensely uncomfortable, to gowns for the women that fitted even better but offered little freedom of movement. Crouch had begged them all to fit in with the general vogue tonight so as not to blow the op, but the sacrifices were large, as Alicia constantly reminded him.
They used the time before the event to vet the area and the gathering, splitting up into several groups to appear less conspicuous and achieve a better lay of the land. Drake and Alicia followed Dahl and Kenzie for a time, listening to the banter between them and wondering where the two were really at. For the Swede especially, the course of his life hung in the balance. Kenzie had already adjusted immensely, and tried harder every day. The dynamic between them was fluid and incredibly charged.
Hayden grabbed Kinimaka, much to the Hawaiian’s surprise, and led the big man into the extravagant throng. Smyth, Mai and Yorgi took the outskirts, scanning for unwanted surprises.
“I’m seeing all the usual suspects,” Alicia said to Drake. The team weren’t using comms tonight for obvious reasons. “I see mercs, squeezed into their tight little jackets—” she paused for a second “—and trousers. Hello! A bit inappropriate, don’t you think . . .”
Drake tried not to look. “C’mon, Alicia. Let’s keep it professional.”
Alicia gave him an innocent look. “When did we start that then?”
Just ahead, Kenzie and Dahl were having a similar conversation. “Three mercs right there,” the Israeli said.
“Don’t stare too hard,” Dahl said.
“Why not? They’ll assume I want to join them for ten minutes behind my boyfriend’s back. That’s all.”
“That’s all? Why would you think that?” Dahl hadn’t even considered the option.
Kenzie laughed. “Because they’re mercs, dummy.”
“Ah, yes. I see now. Good point.”
“I know them well. Their aspirations; goals; needs.”
Dahl remembered Kenzie had commanded her own group of mercenaries for many years. “All the same?”
“No,” Kenzie said. “Most wanted money, power and carnage but a few . . . there were a few that were different. Others just wanted to be led.”
Dahl looked over. “And you were good at that?”
“Sure. I have no problems making a man do what I want.”
Dahl lowered his voice. “See ahead? Definitely CIA. Undercover.”
“Yeah, I was just about to say. Two more over there.”
Dahl sought Crouch in the crowd. “I wonder what Michael would say to that? Perhaps this splinter group have sent people too.”
“Luther?” Kenzie asked.
“No. Judging from what I’ve heard Luther would simply surround and then assault this place with Howitzers.”
“And the mercs?”
“Well, clearly Crouch isn’t the only one in the know. I guess a third of the people here are government agents in some way.”
“Unlike us,” Kenzie said, then added: “Kinda sexy, huh?”
“What? What is?”
“Being disavowed. Hunted. Marked. I like it.”
“Kenzie, you and I have very different perceptions of the word sexy.”
“Really?” Kenzie moved closer so their hips came together. “I guess we could explore that later.”
Dahl didn’t move away, but didn’t press forward either. The conflict battered him, making him lose focus for a moment. Then they came to the end of the stage and turned back, refusing yet another glass of champagne offered on a silver platter by a white-gloved waiter.
Drake and Alicia were a few steps behind.
“Looking at all the scattered Intelligence in here,” the Yorkshireman said. “You can guarantee our location will be made known by the end of tonight.”
“Worth the risk,” Alicia came back. “If we do find the first seal.”
Drake made a sound. “Depends on if we get caught, love.”
She growled. “Listen to bloody Eeyore, here. If we weren’t in this star-studded crowd I’d kick your arse off it.”
“Star studded?” Drake whipped his head around. “Where?”
“Well, I saw someone who looked like that guy from Hawaii-Five-O earlier. Does that count?”
Drake frowned. “I was thinking more of the female variety.”
“Oh, then no, just princesses and state wives I’m afraid.”
“Bollocks.”
“Check out the guards,” Alicia said.
They veered away as they approached the curtain-covered entrance to the tomb of Amenhotep. Two guards were standing to either side, carrying semi-automatic weapons and looking distinctly unimpressed. To the side of the stage stood a larger contingent, similarly armed and equipped for anything. Egypt itself was not the most stable country of late, and it seemed the Egyptians were prepared for the worst.
The time of the unveiling approached and the team came randomly together and gathered amidst the crowd as it grouped. An official stood before them, asking for quiet and then turning to face a particular set of cameras. He launched into a speech, explaining all about the tomb and how local archaeologists had discovered it. Excitement infused the air. Drake saw many guests almost hopping with glee at the thought of being allowed to enter a barely excavated, ‘in-situ’ tomb. The official went on to reassure them all that all they had done was to make it safe. They were the explorers, the archaeologists, the Howard Carters of today, and he asked for their cooperation in sharing any insights they might have.
Then, the curtains were thrown apart and the entrance revealed.
Drake saw exactly what he’d expected—a jagged entranceway bordered by hastily polished rocks and titivated with colorful embellishments. The entrance was lit by bright lamps and completely blocked any view of what was inside.
The official called forth the first batch of forty visitors. With help from Crouch’s connections they were part of it and would be allowed twenty minutes inside before giv
ing way to the next group. The tomb was large, it was whispered, and the way down narrow, so they wouldn’t have too long to search.
Drake fell in line with Alicia like all the good civilians, making two rows behind four tour guides and more guards. Drake noted a couple of the mercenaries behind them and also several spies that had to be working for various undercover agencies.
“A regular convention,” he whispered to Crouch. “Maybe make it a yearly meet.”
“With all this attention,” Crouch spoke the last word meaningfully. “No one will be able to keep the findings secret.”
“Unless they find and then destroy them . . .” Hayden put in ominously. “Keep your wits about you, guys.”
Mai led their little group, paired with Yorgi. Drake came fourth in line and stared at the floor as the bright entrance lights filled their vision. He wanted as little adjustment time as possible. Happy chatter filled his ears, attesting that at least half of the first consignment were genuine civilians. Thank the Lord for small mercies, he thought. The spies he’d noted so far were good at their job, unnoticeable except to a highly trained eye. Many were in couples. The mercs, on the other hand, stood out like donkeys at a horse pageant, big and uncomfortable, sweating, smoking, not even pretending to listen to the historical sermon offered by their hosts, first by mouth and now as they moved into the top part of the tomb, by recorded voice.
“The tomb of the famous Amenhotep, thought lost to time, was recently discovered after a cave-in was triggered by archaeologists searching for something very different . . .”
Drake tuned it out as the passage came into focus. The walls were closer than he’d imagined, dusty, white and roughly hewn out of bare rock. Strings of lamps had been set up at their apex with the ceiling and these now led downward at a sharp angle.
“Step carefully,” one of their guides said in English. “There is plenty of room to both sides so no need to worry about your cherished attire. Those with high heels should remove them, of course. Carry-bags are provided.”
The Seven Seals of Egypt (Matt Drake Book 17) Page 4