Chasing Gold

by David Leadbeater

“He didn’t get chance to leave the clue,” Caitlyn said once, a catch deep in her throat. “We lost them.”

  Alicia didn’t believe it. She replayed Crouch’s trail across the casino again and again in her mind, even remembered him walking carefully in the center of the walkway, but came up with nothing.

  A tall, dark man approached them right then, clearly in a hurry. “You Merriweather’s team?”

  Alicia frowned, but knew the answer that would get cooperation. “We sure are.”

  “Got a report — those bastards crossed the Strip, then went downtown. The eye in the sky went up pretty quick but there was no sign of them. Must have ducked into an underground lot or a multi-story. Maybe even a container. At this point, we don’t even know if they’re still inside the city limits.”

  Alicia thanked him and then swore. Ricci had planned well for the very worst, it seemed, but then he was Special Forces. He would always plan for the worst and hope for the best. Ops usually fell in the middle ground. This was a highly dangerous individual they were dealing with.

  “Crouch walked from there—” Russo pointed in vain at the elevator doors “—to there.” He indicated the exit. “I think Caitlyn’s right. He didn’t get chance to leave a message.”

  Alicia blinked as her mind suddenly entertained a new possibility. She didn’t follow Russo’s motions, but let her eyes fasten onto the elevator.

  “What is it?” Caitlyn saw something in her stance.

  “It just occurred to me. We haven’t followed Crouch’s entire journey.”

  They strode toward the doors; Russo grumbling and explaining that Crouch would hardly have had the chance in the crowded cubicle. Alicia agreed, but refused to leave any stone unturned. She stood there and jabbed the button into submission, pressing continuously until it began to chime.

  Once inside, she saw immediately what, earlier, had struck a chord with her. The small white, silver-framed plaque on the wall that was headed: Golden Entertainment. It was a small print note; some kind of waiver perhaps, or a disclaimer.

  None of that mattered though.

  Alicia saw it immediately and slumped in relief. “Dammit if we didn’t come down in this earlier and never noticed.” She punched the wall.

  “It’s not like we were looking for it,” Russo said. “I just assumed the message would be around the slots.”

  Alicia punched the wall once more in frustration, knowing now that their clue had been here the whole time and that the terrorists were over an hour in the clear. After a moment she stood back and read the clue aloud:

  “AM. LAX to HNL, then to Turtle Bay and waveriders to the Shoshone Star.”

  As she finished, the elevator doors began to close. Russo pressed a button to stop the thing from going anywhere.

  “Thoughts?” Alicia asked.

  It was imperative they solve this quickly—now.

  Caitlyn took it instantly. “Well, LAX is pretty self-explanatory. That’s the airport code for Los Angeles International. Now — HNL? I’m not so sure.”

  The team waited whilst Caitlyn tapped at her phone. Austin quickly told them the time it would take to drive and fly from Vegas to Los Angeles.

  “Four hours by car, ninety minutes by plane.”

  Caitlyn clucked a little when she discovered her answer. “Well, it’s the city of Honolulu, Hawaii. The terrorists are heading to the main tourist island, Oahu.”

  “And Turtle Bay?” Alicia asked. “Must be some kind of neighborhood, I guess.”

  “It’s a resort situated on the north shore of Oahu, quite an expensive one. You think that’s where they’ll stay?”

  “That depends,” Alicia said, “on what the Shoshone Star is.”

  Caitlyn tapped for long minutes. “Have to admit,” she said finally, “it beats me. It’s nothing connected to Hawaii.”

  “Waveriders?” Russo asked.

  “Some Hawaiian water craft,” Austin said, then shrugged. “Sorry, I’m guessing.”

  Alicia thought it through. “We know where they’re going. We know how they’re getting there. Question is — how do we play it?”

  Caitlyn checked her watch. “It’s been roughly ninety minutes since they escaped.”

  Austin leaned back against the elevator wall. “In all honesty they could be halfway to LA by now.”

  Alicia tended to agree and, even if they weren’t, by the time they managed to secure some kind of jet their enemy would almost certainly be in Los Angeles.

  Would it not be better to be waiting for them at their destination?

  A gamble, for sure, but she didn’t think they would have dragged Crouch and Terri out of the Stratosphere without an end game in mind. And that end game definitely included Hawaii.

  “To put another slant on things,” Russo said. “They could also be lying low for a few hours, or even days. Maybe they’ll head out later.”

  Another reason to aim straight for Hawaii. Alicia laid it out for Caitlyn and asked her to run it by Merriweather. Then, the five of them walked back into the casino.

  “Last chance,” Alicia said. “But we’re gonna get ahead of them this time. Stop the murder of Crouch, the sale of Terri and the burning of…” she didn’t finish, sensing people all around.

  “… everything,” she concluded.

  The Americans were still in the dark, and the FBI wanted it kept that way. Merriweather sounded as grim as he’d ever been, aware of all that had happened in Las Vegas. He ordered them to McCarran where a private jet would be waiting and explained that Hawaii’s top authorities would be on hand to help.

  “It’s not a terrorist threat, per se,” he told them. “As in violent action. But it is still a threat on American soil. And agents were killed today. You’d better go find your man, Crouch, and save him because I personally want to shake his hand.”

  They ended the call. Alicia decided then that they had to go find the Special Agent in Charge and use the local FBI vehicles to fully tool up. It would be better to get armed now than when they were in Hawaii.

  “The full works,” Alicia said. “Leave nothing to chance. Once we’re on that plane we’re on mission. Nothing can slow us down. Not even you, Cutler.”

  The American thief just looked glum.

  “Still in the chase,” Russo muttered as they walked. “All the way from DC to Vegas.”

  “It’s been a long chase,” Alicia admitted. “And I’m totally knackered. But Rob — I always save the best for last.”

  “Somehow,” Rob said, “I think we’re gonna need it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  The afternoon counted down.

  Alicia was convinced in her heart of hearts that Crouch and his terrorist captors were already slicing through the skies ahead of them. Jet versus jet. The race was still running. She believed that the terrorists were desperate to play out their end game, especially after coming so close to defeat in Vegas and would head straight to Turtle Bay and then whatever this Shoshone Star was. The truth was — she and the others were still lagging behind.

  Several times she asked the pilot to fly faster; made him get clearance to take the jet to its highest speed. Inside, they all took turns pacing up and down the aisle, trying not to get in each other’s way. There was little to say. All they could do was peer out the window and wish that the patches of landscape they could see below were moving quicker.

  * * *

  Crouch also peered out of the window of his jet, wondering if Alicia and the team were still on their tail. He knew it was touch and go. It had been incredibly hard to make the last message happen. Silently, he wished for the plane to slow down, for the power to drop, for a storm — anything to allow their pursuers to gain ground.

  Terri sat by his side. They were both zip-tied with their hands in their laps, both secured at the ankles too. Terri had said very little since they left Vegas, and Crouch wondered if she was worrying over Cutler. The guy had seemed fine when he broke free, but maybe Terri had seen something else.

>   Crouch had already studied every detail of their captors at least twice. Ricci sat at the front of the plane, constantly ranting into a cellphone, his black hairstyle as unruffled now as it had been the first time Crouch set eyes upon it. The other two remaining terrorists — the banner bearers — sat to Crouch’s left, both nodding off, both holding their arms tenderly as if muscles and tendons truly burned.

  The jet raced on, flashing through the air at hundreds of miles per hour. If Alicia was behind she would be pushing the speed with every ounce of energy she possessed. Crouch had always had a soft-spot for the spirited Englishwoman, ever since he learned of her terrible life at home and that she’d run away to join the Army. What energy she must have possessed to become the first woman of the SAS… but that was another, older story. He trusted her implicitly, and knew she would do anything — everything — to save his life.

  Ricci rose at the front and turned around, grinning. “We’re landing soon,” he said. “And then we will be gone. I have more men waiting at Turtle Bay. Enjoy this flight,” he said. “It will be your last.”

  And then, not happy with simply waking the men who’d labored and struggled with the banner’s weight between them, he walked over and tased them into awareness.

  Terri glanced at him. The look on her face said it all.

  We’re gonna die.

  * * *

  Terri had been thinking about Cutler once more and wondering if he had been forced to join the chase team. Most of her wished for an affirmative, but that scared part of her — the one that remembered he’d chosen badly in a moment of crisis; that hoped she’d never see him again. Her soul was full of endings, seeing their parting and her death and worse — a death she wished for but would not soon come.

  It was odd — but the best time of her life turned out to have been chasing Cutler. Not world-class robbery or finding him. But looking for him. She had been alone and carefree, just embarking on her journey. Wasn’t it strange how an event skipped by, unnoticed, and then later you looked back and just knew that it was something you’d never forget — something epic that would become nothing less than a deathbed memory.

  Looking for Cutler. Not finding him.

  And never since had she felt the same. Life had truly passed her by.

  She looked to Crouch now, knowing she still had a clever, capable asset at her side. And boy, was she going to stick with him.

  * * *

  Alicia urged the jet to higher speeds, feeling the vibration in the wings and hearing the deep roar of the engines. The floor vibrated and the fuselage rocked as it was struck by turbulence. The pilot called back that they were an hour out from the island of Oahu.

  Caitlyn called out through the tumult inside the plane. “I have it. The Shoshone Star is an oil tanker.”

  Alicia considered that for a moment. “From Turtle Bay to an oil tanker? Then waveriders will be a form of boat…”

  Austin bowed slowly.

  “They bought passage,” Russo said, “an easy way out of the country. The tanker could be going anywhere in the world. This changes things now.”

  “Why?” Alicia could barely keep her hands still she was so pumped full of adrenalin and fire.

  “Isn’t it more likely that their video will be beamed from the tanker? Somewhere totally anonymous.”

  “It would make it far easier for them,” Caitlyn said.

  Alicia glared at them. She knew they had it all. Everything. The terrorists’ entire plan.

  But she also knew it might be too late to stop them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Alicia spoke very little as the plane skimmed down the runway, and they were quickly transferred to a helicopter. The atmosphere between them was terse and professional, brooking no mistakes.

  The chopper rose immediately, and someone introduced men that Alicia was grateful for but also men she hoped to God wouldn’t get in her way. It was a difficult and complex scenario. The Hawaiians didn’t want such a high-profile resort like Turtle Bay to become associated with terrorists let alone host a gun battle, but neither did they want these terrorists to further their goals.

  Whatever they were… Merriweather was still keeping a countrywide lid on the facts.

  “We’re twenty minutes out,” a man said.

  Alicia nodded her thanks. Another agent handed her a color photograph. “Airport CCTV caught this an hour ago.”

  She studied the print, saw Crouch, Terri, Ricci and the other two terrorists all present. “Our worst fears,” she said. “I’m guessing you just received this?”

  “Not five minutes ago.”

  She nodded. The trouble with hiding the stark, terrible truth behind an operation meant that it did not receive the prompt attention that it should. At least she could set it straight now.

  The chopper soared over the island of Oahu, hugging the coastline and passing right by the capital city of Honolulu, the main tourist destination. She leaned over to study the white-colored, high-rise hotels, bars, restaurants and sandy beaches. Even the air over Hawaii was tranquil, it seemed, the chopper cutting through the skies with no resistance. She spotted more curving coastline and then the unmistakable shattered peak that was Diamond Head, a place she’d visited once before with the SPEAR team, such a long time ago.

  We fought the Blood King there, she remembered. Deep underneath at the Gates of Hell. Didn’t kill him though. That was later — at Death Valley.

  And good riddance. She focused again on the new, current threat — a man called Ricci and his stupidly loyal colleagues. Diamond Head fell away and soon they were nearing the north shore.

  Alicia made ready. Russo, Caitlyn, and even Austin and Cutler were fully kitted out with battle gear and weapons. The latter weren’t expecting to use them but were being dropped into a hot zone where anything could happen. Caution was imperative.

  Turtle Bay was an upscale resort, situated on a resplendent outcropping of the north shore with incredible, scenic views of the Pacific and the meandering shoreline. The hotel consisted of three buildings, shaped like a three-pointed star, and came equipped with every conceivable comfort a traveler could imagine. Alicia saw the three-pointed star now as they descended rapidly through the air, aiming for the parking lots situated to the south of the property. It would be a short jog to the main building.

  Of course, if the terrorists were alert they stood a good chance of seeing the chopper as it swooped in.

  Alicia, Russo and four Hawaiian agents in combat gear jumped out of their seats before it landed. As soon as their boots hit the asphalt they were running. Alicia felt a warm breeze and a hot sun; it was the same day she’d arrived in Las Vegas, although it was late afternoon now here on Oahu. The skies were cloudless, the air balmy. Everywhere she looked, tourists ambled around in shorts and T-shirts or packed luggage and surf boards into their cars. Should we try to flush Ricci out quickly with a few shots into the skies or take the more secure route?

  She badly wanted to follow the former instinct, but knew that the Hawaiians would stick to the latter.

  It took a few minutes to reach the main buildings. Here, paths ran around the sides, leading to pools, sun loungers and a private beach access. Alicia saw that the hotel was huge — it would be almost impossible to find a guest without help from the staff.

  Russo was at her side. “You think we’re in time?”

  “We have to be.”

  “We should send a few people straight around the side,” Alicia told the lead agent, a man named Vino.

  “Reception will give us the information we need.”

  “I mean — they’re headed directly from here to the oil tanker. That means boats.”

  He saw the sense of it. “You two go then but do not engage unless you’re fired upon. You hear me?”

  Alicia nodded immediately. “Understood, boss.”

  Russo almost managed to keep his face straight.

  Making sure Caitlyn knew to keep an eye on Cutler, she dashed around the corner
before slowing and hiding her gun underneath their jacket. The situation and the location did not go well together; even Alicia acknowledged it was a tough predicament for the Hawaiians. A nice vista opened out before them: grassy banks and a pool full of bright blue water, bordered by sun loungers and palm trees. To the left, hotel rooms reached up several stories.

  “Once we pass the pool we’ll see the beach,” Alicia urged Russo on.

  “It appears to be a series of small pools,” Russo said. “Landscaped to be almost hidden from each other — tiny lagoons maybe, leading us to the ocean.”

  “Hark at the fucking travel guide. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Always, ma’am.”

  Alicia choked and Russo grinned, knowing how she hated the title. She ignored him, studying the hotel balconies at her side and the landscape ahead. Surely the Hawaiian agents would have been given a room number by now.

  She plucked her radio off its webbed belt.

  And somewhere above, the first shots rang out. Bullets strafed the turf all around her boots, making her dance like a manic Irish dancer.

  “Fuck!”

  A fast glance up told the story. Terrorists were crowding onto a first-floor balcony, faces grim and determined, carrying an assortment of shotguns, semi-autos and pistols. Among them she saw the mad boss, Ricci, and a brief peek of Terri.

  Those aiming down fired again.

  Alicia and Russo dived headlong, rolling toward the nearest cover. Bullets marked their path. Men leaned over the balcony, surveying all directions. Screams started to sound around the hotel and its grounds as people heard gunfire.

  Alicia scrambled behind one of the rolling turf banks, seeing that the gunmen were distracted by something, and trying to get an idea of what was going on.

  “Looks like Ricci has reinforcements.”

  Three men were carrying something toward the edge of the balcony. A mattress. Carefully, they tipped it over the edge and let it fall. Three more men then appeared carrying a second, which they managed to drop onto the first. Instantly then, the lead gunman jumped onto the railing.

  “Cops must be heading for the front door,” Russo said.