“Right now?” Mai gave a proverbial nod to Hayden and Dahl, Alicia and Drake. It had to be them. “Then this island needs wrapping up,” she said firmly. “To be handed over as one big, neat present.”
“Too risky,” Hibiki said, echoing Smyth’s own argument.
Mai took a moment to ensure Hibiki met her eyes. “Is that the same man who helped me through the hell that was Tokyo Coscon speaking? Or his broken shadow?”
“No. It’s his older, wiser self. This island’s days are limited, Mai.”
“Agreed. But every hour that passes means sixty minutes more agony for the captives behind you. It means another hour when we don’t know what the hell is going on, when we could find out something that may help our friends. And it means the North Koreans have more time to destroy this place, wiping out all the evidence.”
“To do that they’d have to sink it into the ocean—” Hibiki began, slightly scoffing, and then suddenly stopped talking. “An act well within their capabilities.”
Smyth had joined them by now. “Sounds like Mai has a point.”
Hibiki flicked his cigarette away as Mai and Smyth emerged from the undergrowth, weapons at the ready.
“Follow me.”
*****
Hibiki led the way inside the facility, confident that at this late hour the doctors and guards would be sleeping. Even so, he assessed every corner and corridor before he led them on and utilized every blind spot he’d exposed in the surveillance system.
At length, the three soldiers entered the main lab, Mai and Smyth for the first time. Several observations hit them at once.
The machinery was state-of-the-art, brand new, gleaming. The startling scent of sterilization fluid stung their eyes. The patients were all strapped down to their gurneys, but shuffling and twitching as if locked in some nightmare they could never escape. Unknown instruments were scattered everywhere, some on metal tables, others balanced on wheeled trolleys, some humming and others gyrating. A snaking web of rubber and plastic tubes stretched from machine to human like a horrifying snare, a dreadful trap designed by madmen and exploited by psychotic dictators.
At the far end of the lab, a large, metal wheel marked the doorway to a vault.
“Weapons room.” Hibiki followed their stares. “And when I say special weapons, I really mean it. I’ve seen some of them now. The AICW? Prototype rifle? It’s now called the Xm-25. A computerized multiple grenade launcher and it’s not a prototype anymore. And there’s a tested railgun in there, just for fun, and the blueprints to the DREAD silent weapons system.” He paused, noting their lack of recognition. “We’re talking one hundred and twenty thousand rounds a minute here.”
Mai marched over to the nearest patient. Smyth scanned the walls. “No cameras in here?”
Hibiki just laughed at him.
Mai touched one of the tubes gently. “This is a feeding tube. These people are kept in this state for days clearly.”
“Mai.” Hibiki’s tone made her turn immediately. “They’re kept like that for months.”
“What?”
“I know this—these patients have been put into something deeper than the deepest sleep. It’s some kind of neurological trance. They call it FX37. And all the doctors who work here? They’re neuro-psychiatrists.”
Mai shook her head. “What?”
Hibiki pointed out a bank of TV screens. “See those monitors? They measure brainwaves.”
“Put a lid on the damn bullshit,” Smyth grouched. “Speak English for God’s sake.”
“Have you heard the term ‘hypnotic trance’ before?”
“Oh yeah. Got it done to me in Vegas one time.”
Mai raised an eyebrow. “I bet that was fun for everyone.”
“Well this is more like a massively enhanced, technically brilliant version of that,” Hibiki said. “And it is being put to a terrible use. These people. . .once they’re wakened and rehabilitated. . .they will never find their old selves again. Only the thing they have been brainwashed to believe they are.”
“You’re saying captives are being brought to this island, brainwashed, and then sent back out into the world, mostly to America? For what?” Smyth nervously adjusted his grip on the gun he carried.
Hibiki spread his arms in an all-encompassing gesture. “For anything. You have only to listen to North Korea’s news statements to know what they would like to do to America.”
“This all started with you overhearing a comment regarding that senator,” Mai mused. “I wonder what happened to him.”
“We are working blind,” Hibiki admitted.
“How’s the comms room?”
“Last I heard, they had restored all communications. The fire did not destroy anything vital.”
“We should go—”
At that moment there was the sound of many rushing feet. Mai and Smyth raised their weapons. Figures began to run past the lab windows, all jingling and jangling with guns and ammo, medals and camo fatigues.
The door burst open. The windows were covered from outside. Over thirty troops with steady weapons covered them. It had all happened very quickly. Mai glanced sidelong toward Hibiki as she lowered her weapon.
His expression took on an air of hurt.
A short man, stocky and puffed up with self-importance pushed his way into the room. A big smile turned a pudding-like face into Halloween tapioca.
“We have suspected Hibiki for some time.” He sounded practically gleeful. “And allowed him to betray us further in hopes of attracting a bigger fish. But this. . .” His smile broadened even farther. “This will have to do. The legendary Mai Kitano. I have heard of you. Welcome to the end of your life.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Drake let the bikers close the doors to the hangar before dragging the three kidnappers they had abducted out of the back of the car. They had been physically thrown into the trunk, a tangle of arms and heads oozing blood, and now they were deposited onto the rough concrete the same way, without regard for their injuries.
“I want answers.” Drake kicked his way among them. “And the first wanker to start talking gets his wounds tended to.”
The suit with the thigh wound writhed. No doubt feeling precious life draining from him, he spoke up first. “We don’t own this ring. We’re just a part of it. Please—”
“Keep going.” Alicia came up now, closely followed by Lomas and Dirty Sarah.
“It’s big. We’re a small part. Nothing more. The chain starts down the coast of Spain. All the cities down that way are targeted. The sleepers are sent to a halfway house in Barcelona before being brought here and then transported, by train, to Moscow.”
“Interesting term.” Alicia picked up on it instantly. “Sleepers.”
“It’s what the Russians call them. It’s said the captives are put to sleep somewhere by the Koreans. For months. Years. But mostly—forever.”
“Because they die en route? From wounds you give them?”
“No. It is the sleeping that kills the bulk of them. I don’t know why.”
“Experiments.” Drake kicked a man in frustration. “You are providing human beings for experimentation. I’ve seen the other end of the chain. It’s sickening.”
“We are just a cog.” The German clearly sensed his anger. “Nothing more.”
Drake drew his gun and flicked the safety off. “Like fuck you are.”
“Wait.” Lomas stepped forward before the Englishman could pull the trigger. “If we kill the one who talks, we risk losing them all.”
Alicia nodded. “Spoken like a true inquisitor.”
Drake fought the darkness back. Thick black winds receded slowly from his vision and his soul. Think of Mai, he repeated the adage again and again. At last, he managed to lower the weapon.
Now Lomas signaled to Whipper. “Got some use for you, darlin’.”
The leather-clad woman stalked forward, boot heels clipping across the floor. In her right hand, she held a thin black object. When
she stopped she let it unfurl.
A bullwhip. A single-tailed length of braided leather with a twelve-inch, intricately formed leather handle. There was an even thinner piece of nylon cord at the whip’s end, which allowed the weapon, if thrown properly, to exceed the speed of sound and send back a sonic boom.
“Now.” Alicia grunted with malice in her voice. “Now you’re in trouble.”
One of the captives rose to his knees, shouting in defiance. Without warning, Whipper flicked out, arm muscles straining. The meat of the leather cracked the man across the face. The cracker snapped about a foot behind him. The clap of the sonic boom made everyone except Lomas jump.
The man, defiant no longer, thrust a palm against his cheeks as they parted in the middle. Blood poured between his fingers and dripped to the floor in a red torrent.
The suit stared, aghast. The words spilled from him faster than the other man’s blood. “The orders come out of Korea. And. . .and from the States.”
Drake’s ears pricked up. “What about the States?”
“It’s all I know. A powerful man is involved. An American. That’s all. He has contacts in Europe. They direct us to where the expat Americans end up living.”
“The Barcelona address,” Alicia said. “Let’s have it.”
Whilst the man reeled off another European address, Drake fished out a cellphone and dialed Hayden. The new boss of SPEAR answered on the first ring.
“Drake. Thank God.”
“Aye up. You guys still alive?”
“Barely. It’s war over here, man.”
Drake strode over to a quiet corner of the hangar, head down. “What’s going on?”
“First off, we’re all okay. But the HQ suffered major damage. The enemy attacked en masse. Dahl and the others are pulling up to a safe house as we speak. And Drake—Ben didn’t take the fight well. He’s totally freaked.”
“Damn kid needs to go home,” Drake said before he could stop himself. But he didn’t apologize. He wouldn’t apologize for Ben anymore.
“Keeps saying he’s got blood on his hands.”
Drake flashed back to the scene aboard the Destroyer after the Blood King vanished and started the blood vendetta. He saw Ben holding Kennedy’s body, blood everywhere.
“He’ll be right.”
“Well, Mano and I are nearing the hotel.” She paused, then rushed on. “For work. It’s where this whole thing began. Looks as though a Korean general and an American got scared when a bunch of strangers accidentally saw them together.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much. As it happened, they had nothing to fear. But they didn’t know that. Paranoia, my friend. Along with guilt, it’s our best psychological weapon against the madmen who aspire to rule our world.”
“We’re starting to realize from this end that the kidnapping ring is directly connected to the island and even your American. And if the island is connected to your general, then he’s been involved in this thing for years. Not weeks.”
Hayden was silent for a moment. “Clearly, we’re still missing a part of the puzzle. Somebody has to find out what really goes on at that island.”
“Have you heard from Mai?”
“Not yet. But she’s our best, Drake. She’ll be okay.”
Drake stared into space. “If you guys have been openly attacked at the HQ and even on the road, it sounds like our American and Korean friends have started their endgame. I’m getting on a plane today with Alicia. You need us.”
The relief in Hayden’s voice was palpable. “Don’t be long, Matt.”
Drake stalked back to the interrogation. “Everything’s gone to shit,” he said. “New plan. Alicia—you and I need to head back to Washington. Romero—you and some of the local troops need to organize a raid on that house in Barcelona. You up for that?”
The marine looked surprised but agreeable. “Sure, man.”
Lomas met Drake’s eyes with a keen stare. “And us?”
“Go home,” Drake said, “with my eternal thanks. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
“We’re going back?” Alicia was saying. “Right now?”
“Well, there’s a Dinorock answer to that. ‘Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go to Washington D.C.’ Something like that.”
“How about ‘Born to be Wild?’” Alicia pursed her lips as Lomas questioned her with a look. “You heard of that one?”
“If you’re still a part of this team, you should come with me.” Drake saw now that his old friend had no agenda other than to follow her heart. She wasn’t playing anyone. She didn’t even know what she wanted from life herself.
For the first time, he found himself wondering what had happened to her. What made a young girl aspire to become an elite member of a world-class Special Forces group?
Maybe a story for another time.
He waved a hand. “If not, you should stay with them.”
He walked away. Alicia threw a stone at his back and then grabbed Lomas by the hand, leading him toward his Ducatti Monster.
“Fuckin’ hell, Drake. I just meant give me ten minutes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Hayden pocketed her cell, buoyed by the news that Drake was on his way back. The team needed every one of its members if they were to put down this latest threat. She spared a moment for Mai, hoping the Japanese agent was okay. If anyone could come out of that ordeal alive and enriched, it was, without doubt, Mai Kitano.
The room around her buzzed with activity. They had been authorized to request the local PD’s help. Within half an hour, they had a forensic expert and a fingerprint team scrutinizing the suite where Lauren Fox had spent the night on January 10th.
With the techs swarming and searching every nook and cranny, it left Hayden and Kinimaka with little to do except watch. The hotel management had so far been of little use. It seemed the place was often used by passing celebrities, and the management respected their right to privacy. With supervisors stalling and decision makers unable to be reached, Hayden had taken the decision to examine the room instead. They might find a whole bunch of fingerprints, but the prints they found would surely be more revealing than a guest name of Joey Tribbiani.
Even now, the manager was still grumbling about a warrant. Hayden had left Mano to deal with him, citing national security issues, which was awfully close to the truth.
Now Kinimaka watched the bustle passing them by. “These guys rock, don’t they? Reminds me of my days in the Honolulu PD.”
“Those days,” Hayden said, referring to her own in the PD as well, “at the time they seemed so hard. So manic and rough around the edges. Now—” She clicked her tongue. “Feels like they were a cakewalk.”
“Good days. Good friends.” Kinimaka stole a glance at her. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Oh, I’ve changed, Mano. I used to do everything for my dad.” She held a forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “Every. Little. Thing. Now, I do them for myself.”
She took hold of his hand and led him into the bathroom. She closed the door and locked it. She stared hard into his eyes.
“You got something to say to me?”
*****
Karin Blake stared at her brother as if he’d suddenly sprouted wings.
“You’re what?”
“You heard me, sis. The call of the wild and all that.”
Karin frowned in worry. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Says you.” Ben threw back the standard brotherly reply. “Mum and dad are chuffed.”
“Of course they are. You’re talking about moving back home. Leaving a potentially dangerous job. You can’t run away from real life, Ben.”
“There’s no talking. I’m doing it. The band wants me. Mum and dad want me. Here—” He stared around the safe-house’s untidy kitchen. “Nobody needs me.”
Karin held back a face slap, but only just. “You broke up with your girlfriend. Big deal. That can happen back in England too, you know.”
> Ben fiddled with a switch. “Kennedy died protecting me when she should’ve been helping herself. So did Colin Patterson. Do you even know who that is?”
“Of course. It’s the soldier you tried to help back at the third tomb.”
“There’s too much blood on my hands,” he said, checking his phone when it vibrated. “Taxi’s here. I’m off to the airport.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
“Are you even allowed to do that?”
Ben turned away. Karin watched his back, stiff and resolute, an answer in itself. She watched him walk past Torsten Dahl and Komodo without so much as a glance. She watched him walk out the front door.
She heard the car pull away. Sadness filled her. Ben was a pain, but he was her brother and still one of the few people alive with whom she had shared the terrors of her past. It was a rare day when Rebecca Westing’s name or face didn’t nudge its way into Karin’s thoughts.
It did now. As Ben left for the airport, Karin found herself remembering that distant day when she had lost her faith in people, and life.
*****
Kinimaka’s eyes grew huge. He stared at Hayden as if she were the Devil. After a second, she raised herself up on tiptoes and brushed her soft lips across his cheek.
“Next time,” she said, with a cheeky smile. “Be ready.”
Next time?
Mano watched as she turned and walked out the door, unable to take his eyes off her body. How did the saying go? Hate to see you go. . .love to watch you leave. That about covered his thoughts for the next sixty seconds. He had no doubts that he wanted to take her out. That wasn’t the issue. But Mano had been raised by his mother to respect authority, to adhere to the rules and the chain of command.
Was it ethical to ask his boss out? Hayden had been his boss for so long the dynamic was set in stone between them. How would that dynamic then transfer itself to a relationship?
It couldn’t hurt to find out, the hot-blooded side of him whispered.
Oh, but it could, the more conservative side shot back. It could ruin everything. He loved his job. He loved his boss—as a boss. He loved the new team, even Alicia. The hours he’d spent with her and Belmonte in that bar in Vienna opened up a whole new side of her. Alicia was a woman with no agenda, but with a past that was, literally, explosive. Mano had only heard a brief part of it, but his heart had instantly melted.
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