Then they passed a high rock cluster, a trickling waterfall and leapt over a wide stream. As Price was practically carried around a smooth rock the man abruptly vanished. Then the next CIA agent performed the same disappearing act and finally the guard. Hayden pulled up short and approached the area with caution.
“An entrance,” she said as they crouched among the trees. “See? Behind that rock.”
Kenzie let out a low whistle. “Before I came here, on receiving the invite, I researched this area, as you know. Something I am very good at. There were whispers of a hidden CIA station, a cave system where they’re stashing an incredible cache from weapons to drugs and stolen works of art. Even I doubted it was real. But this . . .” she tailed off.
“Cave system?” Smyth eyed the hole dubiously. “Any idea where it goes?”
“Down,” Kenzie said. “Definitely down.”
“Wiseass. So c’mon, what are we waiting for?”
Hayden eyed the seemingly unguarded entrance. “Relax, Smyth, and let’s take this steady. I’ve seen one too many traps on this trip already.”
Kenzie now rounded on the ex-CIA agent, a challenge in her face. “That reminds me. How did you people end up getting caught? The Alicia bitch didn’t look too happy about it and Drake and the beautiful Swede seemed mighty upset.”
Hayden hefted her rifle and cinched tight her belt. “Communications surveillance,” she said quietly. “It’s superior to what we imagined. I placed a call to DC—they traced the call back to me.”
“It’s everywhere these days,” Kenzie agreed. “Imagine my dilemma, having to smuggle stolen artifacts around the world.”
“That’s what you do?” Lauren asked, then shrugged. “Nice.”
Yorgi stared at her. “I’m quite sure I have heard of you,” he said. “Didn’t you cross the Samoan Cartel once? And they’re still looking for you?”
“Ha. The Samoan Cartel couldn’t find their way out of Mexico if they found a map to Tijuana. They’re old school.”
“But stone cold killers.”
Kenzie shrugged it off.
“We underestimated these people and we paid the price,” Hayden said. “Maybe the CIA were involved in monitoring the airways and reporting to Ramses. From what we’ve seen so far, it wouldn’t be a stretch.”
Kinimaka rose carefully, a great shadow and now a legend of the rainforest. “I can’t see jack inside that entrance. We’re losing valuable time here, guys.”
Hayden walked ahead. “Don’t worry. One way or another Robert Price and all his cronies are gonna be on a plane to DC tonight. Whether it’s in cuffs or a black bag is entirely up to him.”
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Drake loped along in pursuit of Tyler Webb and Ramses, colleagues at his side. The RPG had whistled harmlessly by, exploding against a cluster of trees. Dahl looked like he was out for a Sunday morning jog, tongue lolling happily. Alicia and Mai ran shoulder to shoulder, just like old times. Beau trailed them carefully, a deadly, inscrutable panther.
The river ran to their left, wide at this point and scattered with barges. Early afternoon sunshine dappled the water, an image that utterly belied the intensity of the crazed human torrent that streamed toward it. Drake was not only at the heart of a mad rush for the barges, but a furious sprint for the air transport and an annoyed race toward ground vehicles, and thus unable to make much progress toward Webb.
Human fury seethed all around them. On the plus side, Webb ran alone and scared, out of his comfort zone, with no bodyguard and no obvious route of escape. Drake struggled to keep the man in his sights, knocking people aside at every twist and turn. Dahl formed the point of their wedge, happy to plow the human fields. There was even a surreal moment when the Swede spotted a vile foe he’d first encountered ten years before, caught him in a headlock on the hoof, and snapped his neck. Dahl had never looked happier.
Drake fought hard to lock away his new rush of feelings for Mai. Less of a rush, he thought, more a chaos. Questions bombarded him like missiles, and he was sure Alicia would feel the same, but for now the old training was all that he could utilize—focus on the battle and lock everything else away. He watched the surge of people empty out into a large clearing like a stream flowing into a wide ocean, most of the flood heading toward the narrow, makeshift dock. Caimans and other predators started showing an interest on the far banks. Webb ran headlong for a few seconds, head spinning so wildly Drake wondered if he might be experiencing an Exorcist moment, then pulled up short. Drug kings and arms smugglers poured around him. Webb clutched the satchel held at his side.
“Ramses!” he screamed. “Ramses! You owe me! You owe me now!”
Drake made out the terrorist leader, the man so mythical they didn’t even know which or how many organizations he ran, as all seven feet of him turned and stared at the Pythian king. Whatever he said couldn’t have been particularly nice, for Webb turned white and then backed away.
“A dozen legionnaires,” Drake heard through the tumult. “That’s all I can spare you.”
Men peeled away from Ramses, forming up around Webb as the terrorist prince walked away, not in the direction of the docks but following a narrow trail into the rainforest. Drake didn’t have to check to see what would happen next.
“Ram ’em,” Dahl breathed.
The four-person SPEAR team backed by Beauregard smashed hard into the wall that had formed up around Tyler Webb. Dahl head-butted his opponent and ducked under a fountain of blood. Drake dropped his shoulder as he rammed into his, then lifted the man over his back. The stock of a rifle slammed down onto his neck, sending a ripple of pain toward his brain. The man crashed to the ground but before Drake could turn to re-engage, Beauregard had already ended his life.
“Beauregard!” Webb’s piercing shout resounded. “What are you doing?”
Drake staggered as one of Ramses’ legionnaires came at him, a knife flashing from an open palm. The blade jammed into his stab-vest then fell away, but put Drake off guard. The whole team were suddenly dealing with two to three opponents at once, and the scene got ugly very fast. Mai danced through two as speedily as ever but the second managed to snag her ankle on the way down, unbalancing even her and sending her sprawling across a pile of organic matter. When she rolled, leaves coated her entire front. Alicia defeated her first man and then nearly choked as Mai came up.
“Beautiful,” she muttered as she returned to the fight. “Best Bigfoot disguise in a long while.”
Drake fell again, his opponent more than capable of using legs and arms. A small pistol appeared in the man’s hand but Drake slapped it aside. The terrain hampered everyone, brim-full of unseen dangers. Dahl fell hard against a tree and then almost cringed as several unsavory creatures fell all around him.
“Pussy,” Alicia said with a side grin.
Beyond the battle, Webb had retained two legionnaires and was making good his escape. As they left the dock area, Webb seemed to stop and start attempting manual labor. He began to throw leaves and fronds into the forest and shouted at both men to help.
Drake fought and kept an eye on the man who soon uncovered a sturdy four-wheel drive vehicle and jumped behind the wheel. Drake finally threw his man aside and looked to the others. Mai had successfully beaten hers and was trying to scrape away excess vegetation. Dahl lay on top of two men, trying to smother both at the same time. Alicia and Beau were dealing with two more in tandem, a sight that didn’t help Drake’s mood. Two more legionnaires turned to run.
“Hey, they’re legging it! Whoa!”
He gave pursuit, leaping from rut to rut and then finding a strip of flat land to help close the gap. Ahead, the two legionnaires stopped and then both surprisingly dropped their weapons to begin scraping branches away to reveal a second truck. Webb’s vehicle roared into life, gears grinding as he tried to ram the stick-shift. Drake attacked without mercy, thrusting with his knife again and again into the first man’s chest. The other whipped a small handgun from his belt and
fired. Drake shifted the dead legionnaire into the line of fire, holding tight as bullets thudded into his hefty frame. At the same time he ran forward, closing the gap.
More bullets and then the shooter stepped around. Drake flung his shield as hard as his tiring muscles allowed, then followed the dead body’s bulk as it collided with the other man. The gun fell away. Both legionnaires fell. Drake withdrew his own pistol and ended the fight. Fifteen meters ahead now Webb was still struggling with the stick-shift. One of his men tried to help but Webb pushed him away—the Pythian’s egotistical nature unable to accept aid after he’d taken charge—and stamped on the gas pedal as if that might solve the problem.
Drake had a fast choice to make. Try to cover the distance, or start up the second truck. A quick check showed Alicia, Beau and Dahl heading his way, Mai lagging a bit behind. From the lead truck came a burst of gunfire. Bullets peppered Drake’s surrounds, most of them whizzing high above his head. He didn’t flinch but turned to give the shooter an icy stare.
In that moment Webb finally found success. The truck lurched forward, revving its engine loudly enough to scare local wildlife out of the trees. Both legionnaires fell into the rear of the vehicle, flung out of their seats. Webb bounced the truck onto the track in an enormous cloud of mulch.
Drake jumped into the second truck, locating the keys already hanging from the ignition for ultimate readiness. The engine roared to life just as Beau streaked past, a black panther at full pelt. Alicia panted in his wake and then climbed in behind Drake.
“Fuck that. I ain’t wearing my streamlined bodysuit today.”
“More’s the pity.” Drake smoothly engaged first gear.
“Hey.” Alicia slapped his scalp resoundingly. “None of that.”
Drake eased the truck onto the track. Dahl and Mai jumped in and then he floored the gas pedal in pursuit of Webb, the forest at last manageable. To his credit, Beauregard had already caught the lead vehicle—just as its legionnaires regained their seats. Several wild shots were fired. Webb eyed the Frenchman in the rearview mirror.
“Kill him! Blow that man’s head off!”
Beau zigzagged. Bullets tracked his movements. It was only a matter of moments before one would tag him. Drake urged the engine as violently as he could, speeding up behind Beau and Webb. Dahl, who had taken the passenger seat, rose and rested his rifle atop the frame of the windshield. One shot obliterated the glass in the front of the lead car, a second rattled off the framework. Beau made a leap for the rear of the vehicle, catching hold of the metal, but his feet jounced painfully from furrow to furrow. Drake rode up right behind the lead vehicle, almost touching its back end as Beau jarred and weaved to the left. Alicia craned her neck to stare at the tightly clad figure.
“Wow, it’s like a porn show.”
Drake ducked as one of the legionnaires fired. A bullet shattered their own windshield as Dahl let loose a volley, taking a man out. Webb urged his truck to go faster, but shouting wouldn’t cut it this time—guiding a Jeep at speed through the Amazon required skill. Alicia waved frantically at Beau.
“Climb in or get the hell off!” she cried. “We’ve got this.”
The Frenchman exhibited his unrivaled skill, slamming both feet on the floor as he hung off the truck and using the momentum to somersault his body right into the empty back bed. Drake then carefully pushed against the offside tail lights, forcing Webb to slew to the left. Putting his foot down, he impelled more impetus into the swerve and then Webb was heading for the trees.
Dahl pounded the framework. “C’mon Yorkie. Drive it like you fuckin’ stole it!”
Drake buried the gas pedal. Webb’s truck spun hard, broadsiding as it smashed into the jungle. Contact with a tree whipped it back around and the surviving legionnaire found out the hard way just how dangerous it could be to fly. His journey was ended abruptly by another tree and a resoundingly wet slap.
Drake jumped on the brakes, but at that moment their own truck hit a deep trough, bounding downward, then upward and to the side in the space of half a second. Everyone jolted to and fro, heads coming into contact with unyielding metal, and then the vehicle ground to a stomach-churning halt, tipping over onto two wheels.
Drake clung to the wheel as it crashed over onto one side. Dahl hugged his limbs, making sure they were inside the car. The windshield’s frame pushed hard down, ooze seeping over the top. Mai cursed in Japanese, once again covered in rotting leaves.
Alicia, now at the top of the overturned truck, fished around in her back pocket. “Wait, just wait,” she shouted at Mai. “I have to get a picture of this.”
Drake waited for Dahl to crawl through the broken windshield before unbuckling his seat belt and falling down into the passenger seat. It took only moments for all four members of the SPEAR team to crawl free and then meet at the back of Webb’s crashed Jeep. Drake immediately saw Beauregard, nursing a gashed forehead, and then hurried around the front.
“Bollocks,” he said.
The driver’s seat was empty, the churned-up ground offering no clues, and the surrounding forest was empty. Quiet.
“Flung out?” Dahl wondered.
“Maybe,” Drake said. “But this place is too big to start searching now. And we have Ramses to take care of.”
“Best be quick,” Alicia cocked her head at the sound of engines. “I think this party’s about terminated.”
Then Beauregard rose and jumped down from the bed of the truck. “I will hunt Webb,” he said. “You return to the bazaar and stop the others.”
Alicia frowned. “On your own?”
“It will be faster. And he is no warrior.”
“That’s an obvious point, pal,” Dahl said. “But we hardly know you. In fact, everything we have ever gained from you turned purple and then black and blue very quickly. I mean, we don’t know if you’re going to help that man escape.”
Beauregard’s face turned ugly. “Then you deal with that. This man—this Tyler Webb—he is the worst human being I have ever encountered. He is vile. He is evil. No morals, no conscience, just a container for devilry. I will make sure they never find his body.”
Drake turned away. “We don’t have time for this. Beau, do as you like. The rest of you, follow me. Ramses first, and then Price and New York.”
The team sped out.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Drake returned to the dock area and a hellish scene of battle.
Barges and large boats fled the docks, scattered all across the river and at all angles underneath a sky darkened by the smoke from many fires. Rockets were being loosed between vessels and into the surrounding jungle, either as an attempt to destroy rivals or for interference. The jungle was starting to burn. Grim-faced men stood on decks, RPGs pressed to their shoulders. Others held machine guns with bullet belts wrapped around them. Still more had their entire decks lined by gun-toting guards. Upon another a deck-mounted missile launcher swiveled for a target. One more was the scene of a party, the guests oblivious or uncaring of what surrounded them.
“It’s all gone to hell,” Dahl said. “But then what do you expect of terrorists, drug runners and arms smugglers?”
“The prize.” Drake pointed their way through the ferocious extravagance.
Ramses stood poised on the wooden dock, men with weapons stationed at his back and the bodyguard, Akatash, at his side. He surveyed the fiery scenes with impassive regret, probably wondering where he’d gone wrong. Even the jungle area where he’d sited the bazaar itself was under fire now, flames and explosions erupting from the place and the sounds of buildings and trees collapsing reverberating through the jungle. Flames climbed the trees like fiery apes, crackling along the timber despite its wetness.
“The Crown Prince of Terror doesn’t look so smug about it now, eh?” Alicia grinned.
Mai picked foliage off her clothing. “His reputation exceeds all. Be very careful how you handle him.”
“You know about this guy?” Alicia asked. “Why did
n’t you mention him before, ya damn Sprite?”
“I have been away,” Mai said matter-of-factly. “Out of the loop. You have no idea what I have had to endure.”
Drake gave Dahl a speculative look. “Oh, I dunno. We all have our burdens to bear.”
The Swede grunted. “Yeah, and Northmen being one of them. Shall we stop the chat and finish this?”
Drake slapped his friend on the shoulder. “After you, Agnetha.”
Dahl started forward and then stopped, turning even as an RPG streaked past them and exploded high in the trees. The team marched together, side-by-side, four abreast along the dock, raising weapons and taking aim as fires surrounded them. It took a moment but Ramses finally saw them . . .
And recognized them.
Loathing burned from those eyes, almost of a depth to burn everything to a crisp.
Ramses stood head and shoulders above the rest of his legionnaires, and he strode through them straight at the SPEAR team, Akatash at his side. Surprise made Drake question this confrontation, but his face and body betrayed no doubts. Ramses tried to come at them first, but Akatash squeezed past his master, suddenly to be blocked by Mai.
“I know of you,” the Japanese woman said. “Better than Beauregard Alain? Better than Mai Kitano? Let’s see, shall we?”
Akatash moved faster than a viper, fists, elbows and knees all striking in rhythm. Mai matched him move for move, a blurry, reactionary speedster. Akatash clearly sought to retain the momentum as he pressed forward without relenting. Mai slipped a little Aikido into her fighting, allowing Akatash’s pure force to work against him, but he countered almost instantly with a similar method, holding back on the power and trying to read her moves. The dock’s timbers shivered beneath their feet.
Drake felt Dahl and Alicia pass him to either side, taking on Ramses’ goons as the prince himself stopped only meters away. His size was quite literally shocking, and his eyes and facial expression right then could have quashed a volcanic eruption.
The Last Bazaar Page 18