The Carnival of Curiosities (Matt Drake Book 27)

by David Leadbeater

  Dahl ducked too, as men targeted him, but kicked out at the weight rack, sending barbells and iron plates at them. Men dived out of the way. Dahl picked up a set of barbells and hurled them at a face. The remaining guards ran for the door.

  “They’ll be back.” Dahl fired a quick burst after them, catching one man and sending him to his knees in agony.

  Alicia hurried back over to the shattered windows. “Kylie,” she said. The celeb was exactly where she’d left her, shaking and gripping the floor as if she was about to fall off. Alicia helped her up and pointed at a far door. “Are those dressing rooms? Go and hide there now.”

  Kylie limped off, looking miserable and scared. Alicia turned to Oana and Alba. “You ready to get out of here?”

  Both women looked primed.

  Dahl was still staring at the exit door. “Shit,” he said. “They came back quicker than I thought. There’s no other way out of here?”

  Alicia saw more than a dozen guards, all heavily armed, approaching the gym door. “Nope,” she said. “We’re trapped. It’s about time to get those famous mad bollocks into action, mate.”

  Dahl turned and gave her a feral grin. “Already on it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  The guards came in fast, hard and unstoppable. Alicia and Dahl needed time to prepare but weren’t afforded any. Among the attackers, incredibly, was Abamarang himself, incensed, frustrated and out for vengeance.

  “Why is he still here?” Dahl asked.

  “He owns the building. They have several escape routes,” Alba said. “He was bragging about it whilst they were preparing us for auction.”

  “And you tell us now?” Alicia asked. “Where are these escape routes?”

  “Back in the auction room,” Alba admitted.

  Dahl was shooting, trying to pick Abamarang off. “Running low on ammo,” he said.

  They both were. Alicia had managed to nab a mag from a dead guard but even that was now half empty. Dahl nonchalantly snapped his mag out of his own M4, threw the gun away and then gave Alicia his last clip. “Keep firing,” he said. “I’ll get us out of here.”

  Alicia’s mouth fell open, but she did as he asked, forcing down an anxious feeling that rose in her stomach.

  Whatever he’s gonna do, it’ll be extreme.

  But she hadn’t imagined how extreme.

  Dahl stalked over to one of the unbroken floor-to-ceiling windows and peered out. Alicia discharged a volley of bullets, watching the Swede rather than the gym. Dahl shook his head walked another three feet and then nodded. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the room, scanning left and right. Alicia saw only rows of cross-trainers, steppers and rowing machines.

  What’s the idiot thinking?

  A bullet passed by his head, slamming into the window frame. Dahl ducked, scrambling toward a rower, and then lifted it in his arms. Alicia’s mouth fell open and it was a moment before she remembered to spray the far end of the room with bullets, keeping the guards occupied. Dahl walked steadily, carrying the rower toward the window.

  “What the fuck, Dahl? This is not the time to take your pet rower for a walk.”

  “Just keep the bullets out of me.”

  Alicia laid an arm across Oana and Alba, making sure they stayed low. Firing straight down the running belt of a treadmill she had a good range and could pepper all the guards’ hiding places, but the mag was running low. Alicia could see a discarded handgun maybe ten feet to her right but even if she did manage to grab it, she would only be delaying the final outcome.

  There were no sirens wailing in the streets outside.

  Maybe that fact wasn’t significant. But Alicia was worldly-wise enough to know that it probably was.

  She fired an extra volley at the piece of equipment where Abamarang sheltered. By now, Dahl had lifted his pet rower over his head and was standing facing the window as if presenting an offering to the gods of glass. Alicia held her breath when he threw the machine at the particular pane he’d chosen.

  There was an explosion of breaking glass and then a shower of shards. Wind blasted sharp particles back into the room along with an icy hail. Alicia ducked under the air flow, which whistled through the room and out the far door. Dahl was already hanging onto the window frame, staring straight down.

  “We can do this,” he said.

  Do what?

  Alicia hooked an arm over Oana and Alba and scrambled backward, staying below the treadmill’s running belt, face close to the floor. When she reached the windows, she stopped and took a moment to peer out.

  “Just when you think you’ve seen the absolute depths of his craziness,” Alicia sighed. “You realize there’s an underground fucking basement still waiting to be found.”

  Dahl swung outside the window, hanging to the frame with one hand, pelted by rain and shaken by wind. Outside, a ledge ran above a lower balcony but there was no easy step down. Alicia couldn’t imagine how Dahl was going to...

  And then he did it. In one fluid movement infused with his parkour skills, the Swede let go of the window frame, fell about four feet, and grabbed the bottom ledge of the frame, feet now swinging over the outer balcony rail. With a last lunge he pivoted forward and landed safely feet first, rolling sideways to expend any excess energy. A second later he was up and holding his arms out.

  “Send them down. I’ll catch them.”

  Alicia winced but turned a confident face to Oana. “He will catch you,” she said. “Dahl’s one of the most dependable men I’ve ever met.”

  Oana eyed the drop. “So you’ve done this before?”

  “Not this exactly. But similar.”

  Oana steeled herself. Alicia saw only resolve in the woman’s eyes and reminded herself she was Roma through and through, as tough as they came. Alba stared at her sister with uncertainty. Bullets clattered around them, whizzing through the equipment, some punching through more windows.

  Alicia made ready, grabbed Oana’s arm and gave her a countdown. “Three, two, one...”

  Oana scuttled toward the open frame. Alicia rose and laid down cover fire, moving to the handgun and scooping it up. Oana took the chance to grab hold of the frame, position herself above Dahl and then slide downward. A moment of bracing followed, then Dahl shouted: “Do it!” and Oana let herself fall backward right into the Swede’s strong arms.

  Alicia nodded at Alba. “Your turn.”

  They waited for Dahl to give the go ahead. By now, the guards were advancing, covering each other as they crept from machine to machine, ever closer to Alicia. The Englishwoman was down to one handgun and whatever bullets remained in the clip.

  “Go, Alba,” she said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Without a second to dwell, Alba scrambled for the window and took hold of the frame faster than Alicia had imagined. Already, she was swinging herself outside. Alicia rose and fired three shots, spreading them around the room, keeping the guards under cover. Two bullets flew back at her, narrowly missing. Another dinged the frame that Alba was hanging on to. Alicia fired three more bullets and then heard the clip fall on empty.

  Oh, fuck.

  The guards heard it too. Instantly, they were up and running, giving her no time. Alba jumped backward into Dahl’s arms. Alicia rose and hurled her handgun into the face of the closest guard. The weapon connected solidly, broke his nose, and sent him staggering into a treadmill where he collapsed awkwardly and let out a sharp yell of pain.

  Alicia scanned the gym for more weapons.

  She spotted two guards racing for the changing rooms where she’d sent Kylie, the celeb. What are they up to? Alicia wouldn’t put anything past mercenaries happy with a gig protecting human traffickers.

  She ran along the row of equipment, staying in between the machines and hurdling running belts and rowers. A bullet demolished a treadmill’s small computer screen close to her right shoulder, sending her sprawling to the ground.

  Alicia came up against the far wall. She could hear Dahl shouting h
er, could see the guards converging on the window.

  “Run!” she cried, knowing she’d have to find another way out of here.

  Alicia ran for the changing rooms. The door was just three feet away. Abamarang shouted close behind. Alicia guessed his intent and threw herself at the changing room door, falling and rolling. A bullet smashed into the wooden entrance above her head. Inside, Alicia saw several rows of metal lockers and darted right, behind the nearest one. Abamarang and several guards crashed through the door behind her.

  They unleased a trail of lead across the entire length of lockers.

  Alicia hit the floor, still scrambling. It was then, ahead, that she saw the two guards who’d sneaked in earlier. They stood on either side of Kylie, the twenty-something celeb looking small, forlorn and vulnerable between them. Kylie was crying and Alicia distinctly saw that both guards had their hands on her.

  You fuckers are fucking dead.

  Keeping low, she scrambled faster. The guards ducked, dragging Kylie down with them. One spotted Alicia, and raised his gun.

  “Stop shooting!” the other yelled out, presumably to Abamarang and his guards. “We got something major to push through the meat market right here.”

  Alicia, at full pelt, slid in along the polished floor, traveling under the shooter’s sight so that his bullet ripped apart the air above her head.

  Feet first, she hit the talker, slamming her boots into the backs of his knees. He went down with a yell, striking the back of his skull hard on the floor. Alicia came to a stop by Kylie, seeing the gratitude in the woman’s eyes, and kicked out at the front of the shooter’s knees.

  The man buckled, dropping his gun, but fell on it before Alicia could reach out. Quickly, she shuffled back, going for the first guy’s gun.

  At that moment, Abamarang and his entourage of guards appeared through a gap in the lockers to her left.

  Four guns leveled at her. Abamarang grinned.

  Alicia faced death with a smile. “You’d better not fucking miss.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  Dahl winced, hearing gunfire stream through the shattered windows above and knowing Alicia was alone up there.

  Oana and Alba stared at him, two capable Roma women who’d just negotiated a daunting feat with barely a missed beat.

  “Over.” He pointed at the balcony, raised above ground level. “Wait for us across the street.”

  There was no time to wait for their reply. Dahl knew that Alicia was as strong and skilled as they came, but there were a lot of guards up there, and these assholes were ruthless human traffickers, and...

  What the hell would he say to Drake if he lost Alicia?

  Such a conversation didn’t bear thinking about.

  Dahl smashed his way back inside the building with his boots, climbing through a broken window and finding himself in a well-lit conference room. He skirted the white oval table and flung open the far door.

  Men and women were still down here, hiding under tables and in niches. Dahl glared at them. “Are you crazy? Get out of here.”

  The Swede hesitated as people rose. “By the way,” he said. “Any of you got a gun?”

  Rather than nodding, that only got them moving faster. Dahl didn’t mind that so much.

  He found the stairwell, opened the door, and looked upward. The stairs stretched up to unnamed floors, and the shaft had an echoey feeling. Beyond that, nothing moved. Dahl slipped in, letting the door close softly at his back, and moved to the staircase, creeping up as quietly and quickly as he dared.

  Back on the third floor, he paused. He stepped up to the vision panel that looked on to the gym area and found that it was obscure glass. The celebs didn’t want anyone peeking in on their workouts. Dahl could understand that. There were times he wanted to work out alone too. Times you just wanted to destress, to shrug off the mantle of worry and pain of life, to be the only one inhabiting your own head.

  Slowly, he cracked open the door. The gym was a chaotic shambles: machines broken and notched and pushed over; windows barely more than ragged shards, the weather happily coating everything with layers of hail. Dahl stepped into the chaos, noting the unmoving bodies, the groans of the wounded and the fact that there were no able-bodied figures anywhere to be seen.

  Where did they all go?

  Had they left already? Were they dragging Alicia away now to... God only knew where, to be sold into slavery? Dahl had no doubts as to Alicia’s prowess, but he knew what horrendous torments were visited upon unwilling slaves—and those torments included making them drug dependent.

  Sounds to his right caught his attention. The changing rooms were back there.

  Dahl made a decision, ran into the gym, and collected all the guns he could find. He strapped four across his back, pocketed three handguns and a percussion grenade and then hefted an M4 in each hand. Blowing out his cheeks, he released any tension and made ready before starting toward the changing rooms.

  The door was shoved open, slamming back against its stopper. Abamarang appeared first, taking great pleasure in dragging Alicia along by her blond hair. Alicia’s hands were tied, guns were pointed at her sides and back. Four guards followed her. Dahl noticed another young woman also being dragged along by two more guards; a woman that looked vaguely familiar.

  Shit. So Alicia stayed to save a movie star and got caught. Must be a Tuesday. He would have done exactly the same.

  Abamarang dragged Alicia along, the Englishwoman swearing hard at him. Dahl dropped one of the guns and focused on the more dangerous guards leveling weapons at Alicia. One shot and the man went down, blood spraying his colleagues. Two shots, and another flew backward, face folding. Dahl managed a third shot as another guard scanned the room, looking for the shooter; his bullet found the man’s chest.

  Abamarang threw Alicia to the floor whilst he dealt with Dahl. The spirited blond rolled and kicked out at his knees and groin, knocking him off balance, and then struck him again as he fell to his knees.

  Dahl picked up the second gun and ran forward, expecting the two guards holding the other woman to step clear and open fire, gratified when they did so. Dahl let loose with two M4s, shredding them. The woman had the common sense to fall flat and lie still, even though she was screaming into the floor.

  Dahl saw his opponents had been whittled down to Abamarang and one guard. His surprise attack had worked well, but the remaining guard proved one too many even for the Swede. His own M4 was held steady, his finger already pulling the trigger. Dahl was upright and trying to bring his weapons around but was never going to make it in time.

  A shot rang out, coming from the direction of the stairwell. The guard’s head exploded half a second before he pulled the trigger. Dahl glanced across in surprise.

  Oana stood there with a gun in her hand, Alba at her side. The Roma women advanced into the gym.

  Dahl nodded. “Cheers.”

  “We owe you.” Oana nodded back.

  Abamarang, by now, had simply fallen atop Alicia, pinning the struggling blond beneath his own body. When Dahl’s attention turned to him, he dug a handgun into Alicia’s ribs. “Try it,” he growled. “I dare you. Any of you.”

  Alicia hissed in pain, trying unsuccessfully to squirm out from under the auctioneer. “Piece of shit,” she gasped.

  Dahl nodded. “She’s right. You are. And what do you have planned next?”

  “Next?” Abamarang hooked one arm under Alicia’s neck and hauled her to her feet, still jamming the gun into her side. “I’m walking out of here with this bitch. And then I’m gonna sell her to the worst of the worst for less than ten dollars. In twenty-four hours, she’ll be wishing I just threw her out of the window.”

  Alicia met Dahl’s eyes. Both knew there was no way she was leaving with Abamarang. Both knew what that might entail.

  “Don’t do anything silly,” Dahl said. “I’d hate to have to explain this to Drake.”

  “Me... silly...” Alicia gasped as she was dragged toward the door
. “I don’t... do anything... by halves, Torsty.”

  With that, she thrust her whole body forward and down, effectively cutting off her own air supply and risking damage to her throat. Dahl saw Abamarang stumble, and opened fire. The bullet plucked at Abamarang’s jacket and tore through flesh on its way into the plaster wall. Abamarang grunted, fell to his knees, and then scrambled for the open door.

  Alicia was left on the ground.

  Dahl fired shot after shot after the auctioneer, making sure not to spray the room with a volley of lead. As he fired, he made his way to Alicia’s side and patted her cheek.

  “You okay?”

  She focused up at him. “Is this hell?” she croaked. “’Cause if you’re the Devil, I’ve been a very bad girl.”

  “She’s fine.” Dahl cut her hands lose, then rose without helping her to her feet.

  Oana and Alba ran up. “He got away.”

  “For now,” Dahl said. “He has very deep pockets and even deeper connections. He’ll come around again. We’ll take care of his ass then. Hey, Alicia, you coming?”

  Alicia groaned as she climbed to her feet, rubbing her throat. “Where’s Kylie?”

  “Who? Oh, you mean the movie star. She’s... right there.”

  Dahl noticed that Kylie was still lying facing the ground, body shaking. Alicia croaked out her name and she looked up at them with a tear-streaked face.

  “Have they gone?”

  “All dead bar one,” Dahl said with a smile, aware his blood-streaked face and clothing was probably anything but reassuring. “And we’ll get that bastard later, be sure.”

  Kylie nodded and fixed her gaze on Alicia. “Are you... are you okay? You saved me from... from... oh, God I can’t imagine.”

  Alicia made her way over to the movie star and picked her up. “C’mon,” she said. “let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “That’s a point,” Alba said. “We should get back to the camp.”