“There is no trust,” Kennedy repeated. “What’s going on over there?”
“Nothing to make us lose our focus,” Drake said. “The Blood King already holds one of the devices. Chances are, if he gets the second there’ll be a few changes in world government.”
Ben stared at him as if he’d only just realised the severity of the situation. “Are you kidding?”
Hayden turned on him, trying but failing not to vent her frustrations on her younger boyfriend. “This ain’t Call of Duty, Ben. It ain’t even a Michael Bay movie. Not yet. It’s the kind of thing where people die. People you love and respect and never get back.” Her words choked. Drake imagined what she had gone through during the last few days, not to mention the loss of her father to ‘the job’.
Drake dropped his eyes as the couple followed their similar routine - regret, makeup, then a few guarded smiles. The Michael Bay dig was probably aimed at Drake. Since the ‘Odin thing’ Drake had been the focus of attention for many well-known names and corporations, all trying to buy his friendship, his trust, his endorsement, and his name. One big call had been from Bay’s management company, with a query as to movie rights.
His mind wandered. He just couldn’t get past the feeling of being watched that they had experienced in Jamaica. Even driving to the airport had made the hairs on the nape of his neck crawl and prickle. And now - was it possible to feel as if you were being followed in an aeroplane? He laughed aloud.
The others, tired, tetchy and mentally exhausted, all turned to him. “What are you laughing at, crusty?” Ben asked.
“Just concentrate on the research, Blakey. Key West’s an hour away, and we need to be fully prepped.” He glanced at each member of the team. “We have to prepare for every eventuality. This is the way I see it . . .”
*****
Whilst Drake talked, Kennedy drifted. It was only now that she was starting to question her motives throughout the last six weeks. Now - when stark reality and another power-crazed dictator had invaded her life through Matt Drake - she wondered if this really was the right place for her. No question, she wanted to be with Drake. But her life had pretty much been put on hold for him.
This is your life, a voice told her. The start. At some point you had to let the torrent of life take you and lie back in its arms, and drift.
Her nature rebelled against that thought. Or was it her confident, New York upbringing? Lindsey Buckingham allegedly wrote the famous words Go Your Own Way when he split up with Stevie Nicks. But it was the next line of the song that always freaked her out. All her life she had felt a singular loneliness, in school, in the Academy, in the station room, every night of every day.
She didn’t feel that with Drake. The guy was larger-than-life and more than enough to keep her engaged twenty-four hours a day.
It actually scared her to think she might have found all that she was looking for. Here, with these people - Drake, Ben, Hayden in particular and even Mano Kinimaka whose heart of gold was already winning her over - was where she wanted to stay.
She was sure of it. Almost.
Drake had paused to stare at her, bringing her back to the present. “You ready?”
“Sorry?”
“Plane’s about to land. We’re here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Key West was an outstanding anomaly. Full of seaside bustle and commercialism, it still managed to capture that feeling of American originality, wealth and old pirate secrets all wrapped up in a palm tree-enclosed, laid back paradise. Huge pelicans followed fishermen around as if on a leash and dived for the fish they might have caught with good-natured squawks. The balmy weather brought the tourists flocking and the main thoroughfare, Duval Street, was overrun with day-trippers and holiday-makers, and bustling with a carnival-like atmosphere.
The five most unlikely treasure-hunters of them all picked their way through the happy chaos, heading for the ocean. Already they could see the clear blue sea glistening at the bottom of Duval Street.
“One thing’s for sure,” Drake muttered. “Anyone following us down here sure won’t have to work too hard.”
Kinimama was examining every side street, every bar.
Kennedy said, “You’re trying too hard, big dude. Tone it down a bit. The bad guys’re gonna find it hard to miss you anyway.”
“Bad guys?” Kinimaka grunted. “I’m looking for the Hard Rock.”
Drake headed left, bypassing the path them led to the ocean overlook where the big ships were normally moored. He paused, pretending to take a breather against some railings, whilst Ben studied the map. Drake surveyed their flanks.
Nothing. Not a glimmer out of place nor a flicker to worry about. Should there be? It didn’t matter. He felt responsible for them all now. He would cover their backs and worry twice as much as he probably needed to.
He wondered briefly why Wells hadn’t called yet. Why Mai hadn’t been in touch. But then Ben pointed to the left and they began to thread through the tourists again. Music drifted from a nearby bar. Laughter rode the summer air like a blessing. These people didn’t need to know about a myth called the Blood King.
Five minutes later and they were standing outside the Museum of Art and History. Drake turned to Ben. “Tourists?”
Hayden clicked at them impatiently. “CIA,” she said impatiently, then relented and added “Bitches,” for effect.
Kennedy pushed ahead of them all. “Feel like I’ve got a damn target on my back,” she grumbled and disappeared inside. Drake, for all his vigilance, felt the same and waved everyone on ahead before taking a last look around, and then following.
*****
She hadn’t seen Drake in a while. He hadn’t changed. Neither had that bitch, Kennedy Moore. And they still had the kid, Ben Blake, nipping at their heels. The CIA agent she’d encountered - and playfully kissed several times back when they first captured her in Sweden - looked like she needed a major banging to bring those stress levels down a bit, and was being almost as vigilant as Drake.
And the big guy? Now he looked interesting.
She’d followed them carefully, cleverly, all the way from Jamaica. Lionel Raychim had long been a player on Boudreau’s list, and when Boudreau learned of Alicia’s long history with Drake, it only seemed right to send her after the ex-SAS man.
Alicia Myles turned to her own big buy, the techno-wonder known as Tim Hudson. “Huddo,” she whispered her own private nickname for him. “Keep behind me, big boy. Drakey ain’t gonna like us turning up uninvited like this. The boys . . . ” she rolled her eyes to the left, “ . . . need to be taken in by the act, too.”
“I know the plan, Alicia.” Hudson was clearly dying for a smoke, but now wasn’t exactly the time.
“Give ‘em about ten minutes inside,” Alicia said, checking her watch. “Then we’ll move.”
*****
Inside, the museum was cool and quiet. A few people milled about the entryway and amongst the cabinets and display cases beyond. Drake scrutinised all of them, but nothing made his sixth sense prickle.
Hayden decided to forgo all the treasure-hunt business and presented her credentials at the counter. The young woman behind the desk stared at them blankly.
“Yes?”
“CIA.”
“I can see that, Miss. Congratulations.”
“Don’t get smart. Just point us towards the Calico Jack donations.”
“I wouldn’t work in a museum if I were smart, Miss, I’d work in a library. It’s that way.” She jerked a thumb through a nearby door and went back to her work.
Drake stared at Hayden and Hayden stared at the woman. They couldn’t quite tell if she’d just been insulted. Was that the point?
“Onward,” said Ben now leading the way. Drake reflected on the last few museums he’d visited. Things hadn’t really worked out too well for the owners.
The Calico Jack exhibition was surprisingly large. Row upon row of small and sparkly artefacts sitting upon numerous shelves, eac
h one tagged accordingly. To their credit the museum clearly looked after its donations. Every item of pirate booty gleamed or sparkled.
The controller was easy to spot. By far the largest item in the exhibit, it had been placed at the back but still managed to dominate. The body was shaped like a slender hour-glass and marked all over with arcane symbols, the like of which would undoubtedly make some archaeologists day. Attached to the top of the hour-glass and sweeping down the body in a gentle curve were the ‘arms’. These were made of some kind of hard metal that shimmered under the pinpoint lights of the display. The ‘arms’ ended in a kind of pincer, like a crab’s claw, that were clearly intended to attach to something.
The dull, supposedly worthless, box. The hard-drive.
Drake made sure Kinimaka and Kennedy were happy with their perimeter. “Ok. So, Hayden, you gonna break the glass or do we go official?”
Hayden gave him a sharp glance. “What do you have against museums, Drake? We give Gates a call, of course.
The CIA agent wandered off, clicking buttons. Drake had to wonder briefly why some people always walked around when talking on their cell-phones. Maybe that was why some countries called them ‘mobile’.
He surveyed the team, and then took a moment to laugh at himself. What was he doing? He wasn’t a solider any more, wasn’t even half a soldier, judging by the way Alicia Myles had kicked him all over the floor of that chateau in Germany. Problem was, the desire had faded away faster than the name of today’s blockbusting movie-star. Now, he was a man who had lost something, and a man who knew the name of the baby he could never have with his dead wife.
Emily. They would have called her Emily. Alyson had been four months pregnant when she died. Their final argument, one of many since Drake learned of the impending baby and struggled to come to terms with it, had already convinced him that he wouldn’t let either of them go ever again, even as Alyson walked out the door.
But he let her go that last time. To let her calm down. After a while he would have called her, made it better, made it right forever.
His eyes met Kennedy’s and he knew from her expression that her thoughts were as haunted as his own. Kennedy Moore shared the same darkness of extreme repressed memory.
He shook it off. Kennedy turned away. Sooner or later they were going to have to come to terms with their demons.
Kinimaka saw their exchange, but pretended to be studying a row of Spanish cutlasses. A big man with a good heart. Drake opened his mouth to say something but then Hayden came over at a clip.
“Looks like we’re sorted here. Cat woman outside should be getting the call from the museum’s directors any minute. Once we have it-”
Drake nodded. “We need to move fast, back to Miami.”
“That’s it,” Hayden looked around at the sound of footsteps. “Hey, you alright there, sweetie?”
The woman shot Hayden a look sharper than razor wire. “Please look after the exhibit. You have no idea what it’s worth.”
“You think?” Hayden started to walk purposefully towards her, face ablaze. She knew what it was worth alright. She knew what it had cost so far.
Ben stood in here way. “Not worth it, love,” he said gently. “Not worth it at all.”
Hayden stopped, looking amazed. By the time she recovered the museum curator had removed the controller from its place and was ready to hand it over.
Kennedy walked forward, but the woman shied away. “I was told to give it to Miss CIA here, no one else.”
Hayden strode forward and grabbed the article. With a massive effort she turned away and nodded to the others. “Let’s get out of here.”
Drake and Kinimaka led the way, careful to check the foyer area first. There was no one milling around but a pair of old tourists. Drake headed for the exit doors and stepped through.
And time suddenly stood still. His breath literally froze in his throat.
For there, right smack-bang in front of him, holding a nasty-looking Ingram M6 with the military config. and with an evil grin on her flawless face, was the woman who still disturbed his dreams.
Alicia Myles.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Instantly Kinimaka, Kennedy and Hayden fanned out to the sides. Alicia stayed where she was, eyeing the controller. Drake took a second to appraise the man who stood beside her, a slightly overweight bruiser with a tangled beard. The guy looked familiar.
Then Alicia broke the ice. “Hey boys! Like the look of yer pirate booty there. And speaking of booty,” her eyes flicked scornfully at Kennedy. “You still banging that serial killer’s bitch, Drake? American ass ride the waves better, does it?” She mimed a few air-spanks.
Drake’s eyes were on the gun. Ingram’s weren’t the best in the world, but at this range even the bearded tit beside her could probably take out half their team.
The tension rose. Drake cast a glance behind her. “Got a crew out there, Myles?”
Without giving her chance he stepped quickly towards her partner. Alicia’s eyes immediately lost their confident lustre. “That’s what we’re here about, Drakey. Hudson and I want to swop sides,” she paused. “Now.”
That was where he knew the guy from. He had been Abel Frey’s techno-wizard. Two months, and she was still with him. The look on her face gave him pause. “So you and the bearded tit want to join us? Why?”
Alicia moved closer to Hudson, Drake noticed, without even realising it. “My boss works for a bloody megalomaniac, Drake. I’ll explain in detail later, but I want to stick with you. As for now . . . we don’t have a lot of time. Peaches and cream here-” she indicated Hayden and Kennedy. “Need to put on some kind of show.”
“A show?” Mano Kinimaka stepped back. “I don’t think that’s appro-”
“Not that kind of show, dumbo,” Alicia snapped. “A show of arresting me, of carting us off. We need to get our ball-sacks out of here now.”
Kinimaka grunted. Drake pinpointed several movements behind Myles. “Lot of shooters out there,” he said. “How’d you find us? Ah! You were in Jamaica, am I right? You were watching Raychim.”
“Tamed and clever.” Alicia sent sly eyes at Kennedy. “Can you handle a man who doesn’t kill innocent women for a living?”
Kennedy leapt forward. Alicia grinned like her plan was in motion. With a fluid movement any wild Jaguar would have been proud of she twisted out of Kennedy’s reach, threw her spare weapon to Drake, and turned and started firing.
The Ingram fired loud. The streets of Key West came to a halt as people stopped what they were doing and turned an ear to the skies. What could that be? Not gunfire? Not here-
Drake shoved Ben around the side of the museum. Hayden drew her weapon, as did Kinimaka. Kennedy stayed with Ben. Drake fired as men emerged from cover about thirty feet away. Two came from behind a toilet block, running hard. Drake dropped them with two quick squeezes of the compact trigger.
Alicia was shooting on full-auto, but then she knew where her former comrades were hiding. Tourists and locals were scattering round the edges, jumping over fences and routing each other across the nearest hotel grounds.
Drake backed away. “Myles! Come on!” He knelt by the corner of the museum, his friends around him, and picked off every man who showed any part of his body. “Damn, we need a way out of this.”
“Got that right,” Alicia said as she scrambled next to him, Hudson in tow. “There are about thirty of ‘em out there.”
“Thirty?” Hayden looked horrified.
“Boudreau says his boss always goes over the top. Makes him look hard or whacko or something. Oh, they’ve got a helicopter too.”
“So you do work for Boudreau,” Hayden hissed at her. “How can you work for that maniac, you fucked up bitch?”
“Steady,” Alicia said without a flicker of concern. “That kind of talk may make me want to kiss you. Again.”
Bullets strafed the side of the wall next to them. Drake ducked as brick dust blasted past his eyes. “This way.”<
br />
Walking backwards, they cleared the museum and ran. Drake turned towards a hail of gunfire that clattered amongst nearby palm trees, but held fire, not wanting to exhaust the clip so early. Then they were suddenly on Duval Street, the thoroughfare still crammed with shoppers and tourists.
“We can’t go this way.” Hayden shot off to the left, heading towards the ocean and a narrow path. Kinimaka and Kennedy raced after her without pause.
Drake glanced around. At that moment a horde of bad guys came sprinting around the other side of the museum and aimed their weapons down Duval Street.
Hayden and the others were already out of sight.
Drake went the only he could. Into the crowd.
*****
Kennedy sprinted in Kinimaka’s wake, not realising she was the last person until Hayden began to slow. When Kinimaka’s grunts lost some tempo she glanced back.
“Wait!”
Hayden stopped. “Damn! Where did they get to?”
The tree-lined pathway curved both ways, offering no clear view either forward or back.
“We have to help them.” Kennedy made a move.
“No! We must keep going.” Hayden still clutched the controller tight to her chest. “Drake can fight off an army if needs be. We must get this device to safety. The Blood King can never get both!”
“So he’s real again now,” Kinimaka was muttering. “Real. Myth. Real. Myth. Hard to keep up.”
Hayden set off again, this time with her gun poised and the artefact held more securely. Kennedy reluctantly stayed with them, trusting that Drake along with Alicia Myles as back-up knew how to win a war.
Behind them, gunfire erupted.
*****
Drake blended with the crowd as best he could, pushing Ben before him and trusting Alicia to do her bit for Hudson. They moved up Duval Street, past the small cafes and bars, flitting from group to group and putting as much distance between themselves and their pursuers as they could.
The Blood King Conspiracy (Matt Drake 2) Page 10