The Crowns Vengeance

by Andrew Clawson

  Spencer and Nigel had also discussed this. Stirling, before he’d departed for the airport, had recommended Drake shoot both Chase and Dr. Carr immediately. Spencer, however, saw no harm in telling Parker his plans. After all, it wasn’t as though Parker would be able to share them with anyone.

  “Mr. Chase, these letters caught my attention because they are the only remaining link to an organization that was founded over two hundred years ago, at the end of your Revolution.”

  A sharp laugh of disbelief. “You’re telling me that the group Revere talked about still exists? That’s ridiculous.”

  “No, Mr. Chase, it is factual. And as of today, we have finally completed a mission that began two centuries ago.”

  A glimmer of doubt flashed across Parker’s face.

  “We have destroyed the economy of the United States.”

  Chapter 51

  Keep him talking.

  It was the only hope Parker had. If he could get Drake to detail his plan, tell him exactly what was going on, Nick would have all the evidence he needed to storm in here and save the day.

  Of course, if Nick wasn’t able to hear him, Erika was likely dead, and he would soon follow. A feigned look of confusion added to the ruse. “What are you talking about?”

  Drake was a man who obviously loved an audience. “You’re in the business, Mr. Chase. Think about what is happening.”

  “Are you talking about the oil imports? Get real. That was all OPEC. Unless you’re cousins with a crown prince, you can’t control them.”

  “Mr. Chase, you have no idea what I am capable of.”

  The man was so arrogant, so assured of his superiority, he never noticed Parker analyzing his situation, looking for weaknesses. Maybe Drake thought his flitting gaze was a sign of fear. Or maybe his ego was just that big.

  “To answer your question, yes. I am responsible for the impending collapse of your country’s economy.”

  His country? This guy was nuts.

  “To be honest, I did not accomplish it alone. No, I was aided by some of the very same men who brought America to its knees several years ago. The same men who bankrupted this nation with their wild speculation once again found the chance to enrich themselves with others’ money too great to ignore.”

  “Who are you talking about? Derivatives traders?”

  “Not at all. I went straight to the top this time. My colleagues from every other financial firm of note in America. It took surprisingly little encouragement to convince them to join me, and once they began doubling their investments, the work was done.”

  If Nick didn’t show up soon, Parker was going to have to improvise. From what he could see, there were two men to his rear, one on either side, both within arm’s reach. Two men flanked Drake, and one was to Parker’s right, the apparent leader of the group who’d brought him here.

  The two behind him wouldn’t be a problem, but he’d be a sitting duck while he was fighting them. Turning your back on three armed men was never a good idea.

  “And to think, I have my fellow industry leaders to thank for giving me this idea in the first place.”

  “What are you talking about?” Parker asked, genuinely curious. “Are all those guys in on it with you?”

  Harsh laughter greeted the question.

  “Of course not. In 2008, when the mortgage crisis imploded the world economy, I was given the blueprint for how to achieve my goal. The only trait greater than American ingenuity, and I mean this sincerely, is your overwhelming greed. Every day, across the nation, greed is glorified. Think of the lavish lifestyles of celebrities that are chronicled on reality television. Pure mental rubbish, yet millions of people are drawn to these hideous creatures, people willing to sell their soul for money. Models and athletes endorse luxury brands far out of reach for most citizens, yet young people borrow their way into massive debt simply for the privilege of driving the right car or wearing the right shoes.” Drake was really on a roll now. “No, Mr. Chase, I did not need help to convince your fellow citizens to abandon their morals. America is starting to resemble ancient Rome more and more with each passing day. A once great civilization whose time has passed, a world power on the decline not through the influence of or due to assault by any other nation, but because of the very people who live within its borders. America is rotting from within, a lethal disease characterized by greed, entitlement and ignorance.”

  Even though the man was planning to kill him, Parker found his argument compelling. “All right, let’s say I believe you. You orchestrated this oil crisis. Why did it take you two hundred years to finally do it? Have you and all your anti-American buddies been twiddling your thumbs all this time?”

  “Hardly.”

  Drake moved toward a beautiful wooden bar to Parker’s right, adjacent to the hallway down which Erika had recently disappeared. A crystal tumbler sparkled in his hand, amber liquid flowing from an elegant bottle.

  “Care for a drink? No? Suit yourself.” Drake swirled the liquid around his mouth. Behind him, Parker could sense the guards growing restless, hear their weight shifting back and forth. If Parker could keep Drake going, his men might be distracted when Nick arrived. Assuming he ever did.

  “There have been several attempts to effect this same attack on your nation, some of which you will know. World War II, perhaps?”

  Even though he already knew, the look of shock on his face was sincere. “You’re telling me you started a global war to destroy America?”

  “No, we didn’t start it. We merely insured America was involved, with the hopes that years of warfare would bankrupt the economy.”

  Parker couldn’t help himself. “Guess that didn’t work out like you’d planned.”

  Spencer shrugged. “Unfortunately, no. With Europe in ruins, America actually came out in a much stronger position of economic power post-war. However, there have been other, more successful operations in the past.”

  He was getting worried. If Nick took much longer, it would be too late. “Such as?”

  A glance at his watch. Nick had three minutes. If he wasn’t here, Parker was taking matters into his own hands.

  “Now is not the time or the place for such a discussion.”

  Drake’s shark-like eyes, black as night and devoid of compassion, focused on his own.

  “Aren’t you curious as to my identity?”

  Unbelievable. Here he was, confessing to abetting the most disastrous conflict in world history, and he was worried that Parker didn’t know his name. “You’re some rich bastard with an inferiority complex. I don’t really care what your name is.”

  As expected, anger lit up Drake’s face like a candle. Getting the man to go on a tirade would only buy more time, and emotional people tended to make mistakes.

  “What I am is a messenger from the greatest nation on earth,” Drake thundered, “sent to bring your miserable country to its knees. As I’m sure you’ve heard, revenge is a dish best served cold, and right now, I can tell you it is delicious.”

  He tipped the rocks glass back, draining it. “My name is Spencer Drake. I am the CEO of Aldrich Securities, an organization established by royal decree for the sole purpose of destroying your nation. In the past week, we have eliminated your Treasury secretary as well as the worthless Chancellor of the Exchequer in England. We are single-handedly responsible for the redistribution of world power.” His words stopped the breath in Parker’s chest. Could he possibly be serious?

  “Now,” Drake chuckled softly, “I realize my organization will soon be insolvent. However, by that time my colleagues and I will be directing the return of England to her rightful place atop the global hierarchy. There will be no limit as to what we can achieve.”

  Parker blinked rapidly, a plan forming. He could worry about the rest of the world later. During Drake’s enchanting soliloquy, his men’s attention had noticeably drifted. Nick had ninety seconds.

  “Unfortunately, you won’t be around to see it.” From the hallway behind
Drake, one of his men reappeared, leading a blindfolded Erika. “And neither will your beautiful girlfriend.”

  Drake whipped the white cloth from her eyes. “Parker? What’s going on?”

  She only glanced at him, her face turning violent when she realized what had happened. “You bastard. You’re never going to get away with this.”

  “Ah, the old cliché. Sorry, dear, but this isn’t a movie. It’s already too late.”

  Drake reached under his jacket, a shimmering silver handgun appearing in his palm.

  “Dr. Carr, as a special thank you for locating these letters, I will allow you to choose who dies first. You or Mr. Chase. Hurry, we’ve not much time.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but Parker wasn’t watching anymore. A rapid series of calculations raced through his mind, just like they did during a football game. Each person became a piece on the board, a potential target or ally that he had to account for.

  “You’re crazy. You can’t do this.”

  “Actually, I can.” Drake turned toward Parker, the gun barrel rising.

  “Good-bye, Mr. Chase.”

  Six of them, two to his rear, two in front, and two on his right. Erika was his only ally. “Just so you know, Spencer Drake, every single word you’ve said has been recorded by the CIA. The man who was with us when you kidnapped Erika is an agent.”

  Drake’s smirk never wavered.

  “I was worried that you may bring some type of recording device to this meeting. As such, my security team took the liberty of using an electronic frequency disruptor from the moment you entered my house. Regardless of what you claim to be carrying, this entire house became a veritable dead zone when it was activated. I’m terribly sorry, but your transmissions, if they ever existed, were not received.”

  If what he said was true, Parker and Erika were on their own.

  “I commend your efforts, Mr. Chase.” The gun came up. Time slowed, Erika’s piercing scream filling the air. With his eyes locked on Drake’s hand, he saw his trigger finger tighten, the gun barrel rise slightly. White fire flashed from the muzzle.

  Chapter 52

  The sharp whine zipped past his chest, a supersonic symphony of death. Parker twisted, one arm grasping the man behind him. The bullet grazed a searing pain across his ribs, just as he pulled the man around, directly behind his back, and into the bullet’s path.

  A sickly thud confirmed what he couldn’t see. With one arm holding the wounded man, Parker tore the pistol from his grasp and fired, two shots slamming into the second guard behind him, red holes blossoming on the man’s chest.

  As gunfire erupted from across the room, Parker saw Erika elbow her guard in the mouth, followed by a swift kick to the groin. He was down, and she dove behind the bar, out of sight.

  Still holding the wounded man, Parker kept the guy between him and the other guards across the room. Apparently they didn’t care too much for their comrade, because as Parker held him with a forearm across the neck, his entire body shook violently.

  Bullets slammed into his torso, which fortunately stopped them from hitting Parker. Unfortunately, this killed him instantly, and the human shield became dead weight.

  To his left was a thick leather couch. Still covered by the perforated corpse, Parker dove for cover, shooting blindly as he fell. His shoulder thudded off the polished wooden floor and he scrambled behind the couch, momentarily hidden.

  “Get him,” Drake roared over the gunfire.

  Two men were dead, one guarding Erika was down. That left two guards and Drake to deal with. He could only hope Erika was still safe.

  Parker raised the dead man’s gun and ripped off two shots. It was enough to stop the barrage of bullets, and he poked his head above the couch. Both men to his left had hit the deck. All he could see of Drake was the silver barrel of his gun poking around the corner of the bar. It seemed Spencer was going to leave the dirty work to his minions.

  The wooden floor beneath him was slick. When Parker looked down, red liquid was smeared underneath his body, blood dripping from his ribcage where the bullet had grazed him. He ignored the pain, focusing on what he could do against the three remaining assailants. Right now, he needed a distraction.

  “I need all security to the main level now.” The group leader’s voice, now a few octaves higher courtesy of Erika’s knee, reached his ears.

  Check that. Right now he needed to get the hell out of here.

  Gunshots came from behind the bar. A stolen look revealed Erika was at one end, Drake and his revived team leader hunkered down in the hallway, just far enough back that he didn’t have a shot. The other two men were still on the ground, without cover. They spotted his head and opened fire.

  He was stuck, and running out of time. If those two guys on the ground surrounded him, it was over. What had his football coach said? The best defense was a good offense.

  Parker realized that the couch he was cowering behind didn’t reach the entire way to the floor. Instead, a thin flap of leather ran the length of the bottom, which actually rested on wooden legs about six inches high. When he lifted the flap, he could see underneath it and across the room. Two sets of elbows crawled over the ground, one to either side.

  A humorless grin crossed his lips. Two shots and the first pair stopped moving. Two more and the second pair stopped, slumped to the ground. However, Parker had little time to savor his victory.

  Shots that had been coming from Erika’s position suddenly stopped, a heartfelt and profane string of curses filling the air. She was out of bullets.

  Without thinking, he jumped from behind the couch and started firing in Drake’s direction.

  “Follow me,” Parker shouted at Erika as he raced toward the hallway directly behind her. On the way, he scooped up a second gun from the ground, the handle slick with blood. “Move it.”

  Her doe-like blue eyes wide with fright, she raced ahead of him, running down the hallway through which he had entered the room while blindfolded. Plaster chips filled the air as they ran, the walls around them disintegrating under a hail of gunfire. Doorways branched off on either side, but he had no idea where any of them led.

  “How did you get here?” Parker shouted.

  She ran beside him, blonde hair flailing across her face. “Long story. I was blindfolded when I came through this hall, but I think,” she said as he struggled to recall which direction he’d turned upon entering the house, “we take a right up here.”

  A dead end loomed ahead, and Parker darted right. The hallway was massive, easily wide enough to drive one of those ubiquitous Suburbans through. In front of them was a single door, larger than the others they’d seen.

  “Through here,” Erika said. “I think this leads to a roof.” He twisted the handle, and warm night air flowed inside. A star-filled sky was overhead, small dots of light accenting a bright moon shining down on the house.

  Except that house wasn’t the right word. This place was more than a house. It was a sprawling complex, more akin to a college campus than a private residence. One had to look no further than the massive helicopter parked on a rooftop fifty feet away to realize this was no ordinary dwelling.

  Angry voices came from inside, and Parker slammed the door shut behind him. “I flew here on that thing.”

  The whites of her eyes were brilliant in the moonlight. “So what now? How do we get down?”

  “Over there.” He pointed toward the top of a ladder that hung off the roof, two curved metal poles leading down.

  He let her go first. Once she was clear, he grabbed the rails and turned to descend.

  The door behind him slammed open, footsteps scraping across the rooftop. A flurry of shots from his pistol sent their assailants scurrying for cover, but Parker wasn’t sticking around for this fight.

  Fifteen feet below, his feet found grass. Beside the towering mansion, which easily rose forty feet overhead, there was little light, and Parker pressed himself against the outer wall, chest heaving.

  �
��How did they bring you here?”

  Erika glanced around, desperately searching for any familiar sign. “We flew here in a jet, but on the car ride from the plane I was blindfolded.”

  “Great,” Parker said. “We have no idea where to go.”

  “Hold on, I didn’t finish. When I was being held here, before you came, they let me walk around a bit. From inside that room you just shot up I could see a road over there.” She pointed into the woodlands that surrounded them. “Several cars came and went, so it’s not Drake’s private access route. If we can get through these woods, we might be able to flag someone down.”

  Overhead, he could hear the men chasing them getting closer. Judging from the number of voices, they’d found help.

  “I have a better idea. Come on.”

  Given that there was a helicopter parked overhead, Parker figured that they were standing next to a massive enclosed area of some type, maybe a hangar or garage. He’d seen the moonlight glint off polished metal, barely visible around the structure’s edge thirty feet away.

  He led Erika around the corner. “Oh, yes. Now this is what I’m talking about.” Parker had been right. They’d been leaning against a garage wall, and sitting in front of him on an enormous driveway were several cars. Actually, it would be an insult to refer to these machines as mere cars. He wasn’t a gear head, but he knew the distinctive black stallion framed in yellow when he saw it.

  The car door opened, and a muted overhead light confirmed it. The keys were inside.

  “Get in.”

  Erika slid into the passenger seat, and when Parker turned the ignition, eight cylinders of Italian engineering whined to life, pure speed emanating with every vibration. He’d never driven a Ferrari. Now was as good a time as any to start.

  Molten rubber spread across the ground as he let off the clutch, giving the 458 Spider nine thousand rpm’s of thrust to work with. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. One moment they were sitting still, the next his head was smashed against the buttery soft leather of a racing seat and it was all he could do to keep the car straight. Xenon headlamps flashed to life, just in time for him to see the ninety-degree turn ahead.