The Carnival of Curiosities (Matt Drake Book 27)

by David Leadbeater

  “We’re about to get company,” he said. “Lots of it.”

  Kinimaka came running over with Kenzie, slamming a man threatening Hayden, across the back of his neck. “I called the cops,” he said.

  “Which ones?” Hayden asked, because, due to lack of resources, they hadn’t done the research on corruption in the local area.

  “All of them,” Kinimaka said. “Via Interpol.”

  Drake nodded appreciatively. It was a great idea. Going through Interpol would force the locals to take it seriously, and also inform whatever organization passed for Feds around these parts. His next thought was for the rest of the team.

  “That way.”

  They ran for Cam’s truck, seeing the young man lying on the ground, dazed. Mai was close now too and Shaw. Everyone looked as well as could be expected, and Drake knew the truck collisions could have been much worse. Together, they attended to Cam.

  Drake turned as bullets flew. He dived to the floor and opened fire, then rolled under the nearest truck. Thick sods of grass tried to snag him, and a large rock jabbed his ribs. He saw a man fall to his knees, and waited for the face to appear as the man peered underneath the truck for a victim.

  Drake fired first.

  Shaw and Mai fought more guards hand to hand. Drake heard distant shouts, the sounds of oncoming men, and knew it was about to get messier. He rolled back out, running and darting among fallen men, picking up discarded guns and spare ammo, and throwing them to his team. Mai and Kenzie plucked them out of the air. Kinimaka reached up, missed, and got a face-full of Uzi before managing to grab hold of the shoulder-strap.

  Drake kept the final weapon for himself and fell to both knees in the mud, turning toward the carnival grounds as the sounds of approaching men grew louder. Behind him, all five trucks stood in a disorganized line, engines still running, windshields and side windows blown out.

  Drake readied himself. The path to the carnival grounds was wide, muddy and rutted. An angry mob rushed toward him; the men and women who really guarded this carnival. At their head, Drake recognized Stevo and Nicu; Cam’s other brothers.

  How the hell are we gonna get out of this?

  But they’d been in tighter corners.

  The mob started yelling. Drake raised his gun and fired into the air, figuring to gain two advantages. First, the noise would scatter civilians and disrupt the carnival. Second, it would also weed out any attackers that might think this was going to be an easy fight.

  To his right, Mai slipped among the trees, looking to flank the oncoming horde. To his left, Kenzie did the same. Hayden and Kinimaka were at his side, with Cam and Shaw in shadow a few steps behind.

  Drake let another salvo sweep the air above the oncomer’s heads.

  “Stand down!” he shouted.

  He didn’t expect them to listen and wasn’t surprised when they increased their pace. Most of the weapons he could see were knives, bats and hammers, but at least Stevo and Nicu carried guns.

  Drake spotted a guard who’d been knocked unconscious close by. The man was rising groggily. Drake strode over and kicked him insentient once again. “Saved your life,” he whispered.

  He held a hand up. “The police are coming,” he shouted. “Stop!”

  The returning laughter was universal. Lupei certainly held the illusion that he was entirely untouchable. Stevo and Nicu both raised their guns. Drake aimed. “Don’t do it.”

  Stevo shouted something in Romanian and then the entire gang sped up. Shots were fired from its midst. Both Mai and Kenzie fired back from the flanks, felling several men. Drake aimed for legs, dropping those in the lead. Seconds passed, gunfire drowned out by the crazed roar of the attackers. Drake reversed the gun in his hand and slammed it across the face of the first man that reached him. The second received similar treatment. A bullet flew over his head, making him glance backward.

  Cam had climbed onto the step of the nearest truck, the extra elevation giving him a good view of the fight and those with guns. Shaw was whirling left and right with her knives, making all those that attacked her regret it. Hayden and Kinimaka were side-by-side, standing strong as the throng swirled around them like rough seas worrying a rock.

  Drake slammed his gun into another face.

  *

  Mai ran out of bullets and flew at the men hovering at the back of the attacking group. For the most part, these were men that didn’t want to get involved in the fighting. Most of them never knew what hit them. All they saw was a blur and then pain and oblivion. Mai darted in and out of their ranks, kicking, punching, jumping. She landed devastating blows, cutting through them like a scalpel through flesh, taking down five before coming up against an adversary that actually opposed her.

  When he fell, Mai was facing the carnival.

  Games stalls ranged to left and right, the Ferris wheel rearing above all. A white-ish tent was anchored close by, a row of candy and burger stands opposite. The carnival was emptying rapidly, but the stalls were still lit, music playing, lights flashing. It was a surreal sight. Mai could see workers and members of the public hiding, peering out at what was going on. The more sensible ones were still running.

  She spun back to the battle, leaping at the rear of the melee. A well-placed kick to the back of one man’s legs made him fold, a knee to the spine of another sent him sprawling in agony. A third was tripped. When they landed, Mai put them out of action. Then she saw Kenzie, just ahead, keeping pace with her, thinning out the crowd.

  Haven’t had this much fun in months, she thought.

  *

  Drake lost his weapon to a man-mountain; the gun was literally wrenched from his hands and smashed across his forehead. Drake staggered but threw an uppercut that caught the beast between the legs and felled it hard. Blood blurred his vision. Drake wiped it away and took a quick recce.

  To the right he saw Stevo and Nicu, their guns held at their sides, faces fixed and slack. Drake realized he was regarding a moment fixed in time—long seconds of utter shock and disbelief and then an outpouring of hatred.

  “Camden? What are you doing here?” Nicu struggled to get his head around what he was seeing.

  “How are you here? You’re fighting us?” Stevo gaped.

  Cam lowered his weapon. “You’re all criminals. You pushed us away. I never wanted this.” He gestured at the trucks. “But you did.”

  “Tată will murder you,” Stevo hissed, still in shock. “No, I will kill you. Are you crazy, brother?”

  “No,” Cam said. “I’m actually in the perfect frame of mind.”

  “But you are against us. We are your family.”

  “I’m exactly where I should be, and you criminals are no family of mine.”

  Cam raised the gun. “Now, on your knees.”

  Stevo struggled from the shock of seeing Cam. Drake could see the conflict inside him. Nicu was shaking his head. The battle drifted toward them, Hayden and Kinimaka almost backing into them. The clash appeared to rouse the brothers a little.

  And the sight of flashing blue lights passing along the road near the fairground only made them smile.

  “Cops are here,” Stevo said.

  Drake ground his teeth together. The issue was—were they the cops sent by Interpol, or the cops sent by Lupei’s political ally?

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Drake launched himself at Stevo just as the man sighted his gun on Cam. Nicu was also struck as Stevo stumbled. Cam jumped down from the truck.

  Drake rose. Stevo punched at him, the enclosed fist striking the Yorkshireman’s head like a sledgehammer. Drake saw stars, but held his ground, ducking into Stevo’s next blow. Cam ran at Nicu, trading punches.

  Shaw was a step behind, knives ready, taking out the men and women that tried to assist Stevo and Nicu.

  There was a loud roar then, the sound of a maddened beast. Drake briefly saw Lupei approaching before Stevo threw another punch. Lupei was stripped to the waist and carried two baseball bats. His wife was at his side. />
  Sirens split the night. Police cars swept into the carnival grounds. Drake blocked Stevo’s constant attack, taking bruises and backing away. This guy was a pure boxer. Drake was never going to beat him toe to toe so he let the kid keep coming, moving toward the truck to find something that might help, and also to kill time.

  The cops screeched to a halt in the parking lot.

  Shouts went up. Lupei was enraged, screaming curses at whatever idiot had brought the trucks to the carnival. He didn’t fully understand or care what had happened, spitting vitriol into every ear. Drake saw him come up against Mai and then abruptly the tirade stopped.

  Mai dived at him, stopping the aggressive stream of maliciousness in mid-flow. Lupei recoiled from her, folding, but came up again swiftly and dropped to a fighting stance. Mai stalked the grass in front of him.

  The cops were running along the carnival’s main thoroughfare, guns out, screaming at everyone to drop their weapons and fall to their knees. Their firepower outclassed the rest. Drake and his nearby colleagues didn’t go down at first, worried the cops were working for the enemy.

  Hayden and Kinimaka clearly thought the same, standing tall amidst half a dozen kneeling carnival workers, standing out, clearly enemies of the carnival folk. The cops made a beeline for them.

  “Are you Jaye?” one asked. “Kinimaka?”

  Hayden heaved a clear sigh of relief and Drake let out a deep breath. “Yeah,” Hayden said. “Those are the trucks.”

  “And inside?”

  Hayden turned. “Let’s see, shall we?”

  Drake fell in with them along with the rest of the team. Mai gave Lupei a last, long challenging gaze before turning her back on the man and walking away. Lupei himself hadn’t dropped to his knees and none of the surrounding cops appeared brave enough to make him.

  Drake approached the back of the first truck, watching as the cops cast a worried eye over the broken windows and dents. One man carrying heavy-duty bolt cutters applied them to the thick padlock.

  Drake found that he was sweating, and not due to the battle. He was worried for the people inside the truck, worried that they might not even be there. But when the policeman broke the lock and heaved open one of the doors, Drake battled mixed feelings as over a dozen frightened faces looked back. Several men and women were nursing injuries caused by the battling, swerving trucks and one young boy was holding an arm in a makeshift sling.

  The sight was enough for the lead cop. He waved at his men and told them to arrest everyone associated with the carnival.

  “It will not stick!” Lupei shouted at him. “We will be free in an hour. And I warn you—I warn you—there will be cons—”

  Drake tuned him out. The people had been saved. These people. Lupei’s and Dumitrescu’s broader human trafficking ring was another matter... but at least this desperate bunch had been salvaged.

  “He’s right, you know,” the lead cop murmured to Hayden. “Marko Lupei has connections in high places. And those people have even more influential connections in governments far more powerful than ours. This carnival is not over.”

  “And you?” Hayden asked. “Will he come after you and your men?”

  “We will do what we have to do. There is always another enemy. You can’t hide away from that confrontation in the hope that it passes you by for, in truth, it will only move on to the next poor bastard.”

  Drake studied the man, knowing that he was right. It made him wonder if that was what the SPEAR team had been doing. Avoiding fighting their enemies and therefore visiting more hurt on the people that did tackle them.

  It was a sobering thought, and one that hadn’t occurred to him until now. As he watched the captives being taken out of the truck, he suddenly became aware that his body was aching, his head pounding and that he was exhausted.

  He turned to Hayden. “Soon as you can, love,” he said. “Sort us out a hotel.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Marko Lupei could barely contain his anger. It seethed through every vein in his body, a living, breathing stream of fire. Standing defiant, holding onto his weapons, he challenged any policeman to confront him. They didn’t. First, they rounded up his workers, and then his sons, and his wife. They left him until last.

  “C’mon, Marko,” the lead cop said equably. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “I will be out by dawn.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt. But let us do our job.”

  Lupei decided the faster he could contact Dumitrescu the quicker he’d be back in business. He nodded and followed his brethren away from the carnival to the cop cars, knowing those workers too timid to fight would look after the fair. This kind of thing had happened before. Maybe not on this scale, but close.

  “The people that attacked me,” he said, not mentioning the trucks and their cargo. “Who were they?”

  “I have no idea. Orders came down from Interpol and we were forced to act.”

  “Interpol?” Lupei was surprised. His attackers clearly had strong connections too. Lupei looked back at them, memorizing their faces. But that didn’t matter for now. What mattered was getting hold of Dumitrescu.

  “One hundred dollars for your phone,” he grated.

  “Marko. Money isn’t the square root of everything. You have to—”

  “Three hundred.”

  Lupei caught the phone in mid-air and dialed Dumitrescu, giving him a rundown of everything that had happened. He didn’t bother guarding his words in front of the police officer. There would be no comeback. Lupei’s reputation and connections were all that he needed.

  “The shipment has been hijacked,” he told Dumitrescu, “by some European soldiers, I think. I didn’t recognize any of them. But we will come to that later.”

  Dumitrescu blustered: “You... what? You... lost the... oh, goddamn you, Marko. This has to be explained to the Russians. To the fucking Russians!”

  “I understand. We will find a way to placate them. They will still want to invest in our future. But first—what of that future? Where are the troops you promised? Why haven’t you ordered a strike on the Hagis and their cohorts yet?”

  Dumitrescu coughed, trying to get himself under control. “Are you kidding?”

  “He has my daughters. He is massing for battle and intends to wipe the Lupeis out. What are you doing?”

  “Listen,” Dumitrescu said very quietly. “If the Lupeis are wiped out, I can always use the Hagis.”

  The Romanian minister didn’t go on. He didn’t have to. Lupei suddenly realized, in a very real way, where he stood in the food chain, and the knowledge made his blood boil hotter.

  “I have secrets,” Lupei said. “I know the worse that you have done.”

  Dumitrescu sighed. “I wasn’t trying to end our partnership. I was merely pointing out a few home truths. And do you really care about your daughters? Or are they just mislaid leverage to you?”

  Lupei took several deep breaths but didn’t answer the question. “Romania does not want an internal war,” he said.

  “At least with that comment, I agree, and so do our Russian friends. Some wars are good for business. This one isn’t. Relax, Marko, I’ll send the troops tomorrow or the day after. There isn’t a Hagi within a hundred miles of you.”

  Lupei seethed at Dumitrescu’s nonchalance. “And our new mutual problem?”

  “What, the fact that you lost five truckloads of cargo and got your asses kicked by unknowns? You cost us more than money tonight.”

  Lupei couldn’t help but feel defensive. “I haven’t spoken to my boys yet, or the guards. Maybe we’ll be able to identify some of the strangers. Don’t you have influence with the local cops?”

  “Of course. But Interpol are involved, and you don’t fuck with those boys. Not if you want to keep your business low profile. We have to lie low for a while.”

  Lupei coughed. “Lie low? We’re about to fight a Roma civil war.”

  “Lie low internationally. Our Russian friends are aware of what’
s coming and are taking an interest. The best way to placate them is to involve them. Interest them. But you had better win, Lupei. If you lose, the consequences will be immense.”

  “If I lose, I will be dead.”

  “That won’t help. These Russians will still find a way to hurt you.”

  Lupei paused for a moment, thinking hard. “Dumitrescu—” he shifted as the cold night air chilled even his bones “—you are a hard man. A confident, experienced, ruthless criminal, it must be said. Yet these Russians appear to have you shit scared. Who the hell are they?”

  Dumitrescu didn’t answer straight away. Lupei could imagine him leaning back in his chair, taking a long draw on his cigar, and staring into space as he hesitated.

  “Who are they?” Dumitrescu said speculatively. “A very good question and one that I can’t answer directly. All I can say that will afford an insight into their power... their dominion and sway over the world... is this: President Lacey is not what he appears to be.”

  Lupei blinked, unable to find the words for a minute. “What... are you saying?”

  “All I’m saying is that when Luka Kovalenko, the Blood King, pulled his trigger and killed President Coburn, our Russian friends had someone waiting in the wings.”

  “But Kovalenko died.”

  “This has nothing to do with that madman. This is deeper than they’ve ever gone before. It’s the long game. And it’s not just Lacey.”

  “Fine. I get the idea. And instead of calling them our Russian friends every damn minute—”

  “Ah, I see. You want to pigeonhole them with another name. Okay, I have recently discovered that they are quite fond of a collective name.”

  Lupei struck a match to a cigarette. “Which is?”

  “The Scourge.”

  Lupei shivered despite himself. The name sounded pretty goddamn definitive. A scourge was a person or entity that caused great suffering. “And what do they have in store for the world?” he asked softly.