‘I’m sorry, Alex,’ Lauren whispered as Hawkins prodded her forward.
‘Now Alex, you’re lucky that I’m not here for you. Tell me where Drake and Anya are, and we can all go our separate ways without this having to get messy.’ When Alex hesitated, Hawkins’ smile faded a little. ‘Don’t make me ask twice, son.’
‘You won’t kill us,’ Lauren said, rounding on Hawkins. ‘You can’t. My father ordered you to protect me.’
‘Your father isn’t here,’ Hawkins reminded her. ‘Nobody’s going to save that pretty little ass of yours. Besides, you’re not my only playing card.’
With that, he turned the gun on Yasin, who stood his ground, resolutely refusing to show fear.
‘You scared, kid?’ Hawkins taunted him.
‘Leave him alone,’ Lauren hissed.
Yasin raised his chin. ‘This isn’t the first time I’ve had a gun pointed at me.’
‘Could be the last, though,’ Hawkins remarked. ‘I don’t know who you really are and I don’t much care. Right now you’re the wrong guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. How wrong depends on what Alex does next.’
‘Really?’ another voice asked. ‘I’d say Alex is the least of your worries now.’
Hawkins glanced over at the woman who had suddenly risen up from behind a parked station wagon, and who now had a weapon levelled at his head. Standing barely 10 yards away, there was little chance she would miss.
‘Mitchell,’ he said, recognizing her immediately. He was almost amused by the timing of her arrival. ‘Now why would you get involved in this again?’
‘I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.’
Olivia Mitchell, a former Agency operative who had fallen foul of Hawkins’ team in Istanbul the previous year, suffering near-fatal injuries in the process. Drake and his Shepherd team had rescued her from a hospital, barely managing to evade the field agents sent to recover her, before spiriting her away. Against the odds, she must have survived the ordeal – and now she’d come looking for payback.
‘Put your fucking gun down,’ she said as she thumbed back the hammer.
But, far from capitulating, Hawkins kept his weapon trained on Yasin. ‘You kill me, I kill the boy,’ he reminded her. ‘Sound like a fair trade to you?’
‘You really want to find out?’ she challenged him.
It was all the delay he needed. In covering Hawkins, Mitchell had failed to notice another figure creeping up on her from behind, moving silently between the parked cars. Only when they leapt out did Alex scream a warning.
‘Mitchell! Look out!’
Riley was on her in an instant, throwing a blur of kicks and punches that immediately overwhelmed Mitchell, making it impossible for her to bring her weapon into the fight. Unarmed and injured she might have been, but Riley was a formidable combatant at close quarters, and her assault was ferocious and unrelenting.
Hawkins, too, had turned towards the scuffle, ready to open fire on Mitchell while she was defending herself against Riley.
That was when Yasin, sensing his opportunity, charged at the man without hesitation, without even a thought for his own life.
‘No!’ Lauren cried out.
Hawkins saw the movement in his peripheral vision. He flicked the M4’s fire selector to full automatic, braced the assault rifle against his shoulder and pulled the trigger.
A shape moved in front of him just as the rifle spat a thunderous burst.
Lauren stiffened suddenly, and looked down in surprise at the red stains spreading across her chest. She remained standing for a moment, as if her wounds had made no impact on her. Then slowly her legs crumpled beneath her and she fell, Yasin throwing himself forward to try to shield her.
Hawkins watched as she went down, the weapon still at his shoulder and empty shell cases smoking at his feet.
‘Lauren!’ Alex cried in horror.
Turning to her assailant, he drew the pistol from the back of his jeans and, face twisting in fury, opened fire.
The weapon kicked back harder against his wrist with every round, but he didn’t care. He fired again and again, tears blurring his eyes, heedless of the danger. All he cared about now was killing Hawkins.
Rounds tore into the masonry around Hawkins, showering him with pieces of stonework, while another flattened itself against his body armour. Retreating into the archway as the frantic flurry of gunfire ran its course, Hawkins called out to his comrade.
‘Riley, cover!’
Abandoning her furious assault on Mitchell, Riley ducked between a pair of parked cars.
The firing stopped, and Hawkins smiled to himself. The stupid bastard had wasted his ammunition without scoring any vital hits, and that rookie mistake was about to cost him his life.
Leaning out, Hawkins took aim as Alex tried to reach the woman lying sprawled on the ground. He would never make it. One burst in his torso would be enough to put him down. Maybe he’d even survive long enough for Hawkins to stand over him and watch his life fade away.
But no sooner had Alex crept into Hawkins’ sights than a van tore into the courtyard, screeching to a halt between Hawkins and his target. A moment later, a door slid open to reveal Drake, Anya and a third man he didn’t recognize.
He did, however, recognize the submachine guns in their hands, and immediately took cover behind the solid stone of the archway. The crackle of several weapons firing on automatic roared around the courtyard, deafening in its intensity.
‘Alex, get in!’ Anya screamed, struggling to be heard over the roar of the engine and the thunder of gunfire. ‘Get in now!’
Alex, however, was making for Lauren, who was on her back, her blood staining the cobbles. Yasin was cradling her head in his lap, talking to her, trying to rouse her. But one look was enough to convince Alex she wouldn’t be getting up.
She was gone. She was dead.
But still he tried to get to her.
Only when Mitchell sprinted over, grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him into the vehicle did Alex finally abandon the effort. Anya, forced to leave the safety of the van to reach Yasin, paused only for a moment to look down at the young woman.
Within moments they were all aboard.
‘We have to get to her!’ Alex protested as Drake slammed the door shut. ‘We have to help her.’
‘You can’t,’ Anya said, shaking her head.
‘We can’t leave her here.’
‘She’s gone, Alex!’ Anya shouted, even as the engine revved and the van lurched forward. She spoke forcefully, but he could see her eyes glistening with tears. ‘You can’t do anything for her. She’s gone.’
Alex slumped against the van’s side, ignoring the painful jarring as it rumbled over cobbles, ignoring the holes punched through the rear doors by automatic gunfire, forcing the others to flatten themselves against the deck. He glanced at Yasin, noting with a vague sense of detachment that the boy was crying too. He didn’t even notice the tears running down his own cheeks.
A moment later they swung hard right out of the courtyard, merging into traffic heading south. Away from Berlin, away from the destruction and death they’d left behind.
They had made it, but at a terrible cost.
Part Five – Conclusion
‘Next to a battle lost, there is nothing so terrible as a battle won.’ – Duke of Wellington
Chapter 68
Cain took a deep breath as he opened the door. His daughter was lying on a table, covered up to her chest with a white sheet, her long dark hair flowing around her head.
His team had recovered her before the Berlin police could seal off the scene, spiriting her body away to a safe house outside the city. The news had reached Cain not long after, and he’d immediately diverted there, ignoring the danger, ignoring his own untreated injuries. None of that mattered now.
All that mattered was Lauren.
She looked so peaceful, as if she were only sleeping, he thought. Her skin was still warm to the touch. He half-exp
ected her long lashes to part and her beautiful hazel eyes to look into his. But they wouldn’t, he knew. Lauren would never smile, never laugh or cry again.
She was gone.
‘Tell me what happened,’ he said quietly.
Hawkins was lingering behind him. He still smelled of burned cordite. ‘We were fanning out to search the surrounding areas when we heard shooting. I moved in to check it out, and that’s when I found her lying there, with Anya and the others mounting an escape vehicle.’
‘You’re saying one of them killed her.’
‘I can’t think of any other explanation,’ Hawkins said. ‘They opened fire on me when I tried to intervene, and I returned fire as best I could. They were gone before I could stop them.’ Cain heard a faint sigh of disappointment. ‘I’m so sorry, sir. I—’
‘You’re dismissed, Hawkins,’ Cain said, unable to listen to more. ‘Give me the room.’
‘Sir, are you sure you shouldn’t—’
‘Leave,’ Cain said, without taking his eyes off Lauren.
He heard footsteps retreating, heard a door open and close behind him.
She had always been pretty, with a delicate face that still recalled the soft curves of youth. But looking at her now, lying silent and peaceful, Cain could see a hint of the woman she might one day have become.
She isn’t gone, he thought, as if by sheer force of will he could undo what had happened. She isn’t gone. Even if it was just for a moment, he needed to believe she was still alive.
Closing his eyes, he bent down and kissed her forehead. She isn’t gone, he kept thinking, as he remembered the way she’d looked in that photograph on the beach. The look of joy and wonder and excitement on her face, and her radiant smile that made his heart ache. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
* * *
Grass, stretching away in front of her, the stalks reaching past her waist, swaying and rippling like an undulating sea in the breeze. Thin ribbons of cloud stretched across the vast blue canvas of the sky.
She crept forward through the sea of grass, driven by curiosity and the childish desire to explore. Ahead, near the crest of the gentle hill, lay a stand of trees, and instinctively she made towards it.
‘Lauren!’ a distant voice called out. Her father’s voice. ‘Don’t stray too far!’
Lauren paid little attention to his warning as she walked beneath the gentle shade of the leafy canopy. It was a warm day, and she was grateful to escape the sun for a while.
She glanced around her little woodland haven, taking in the gnarled tree trunks, the tangled bushes and the swaying branches overhead. Then she spotted something on the ground ahead. Something that compelled the young girl to move closer.
A perfectly round hole in the ground yawned below her, partially covered by old wooden planking, tangled weeds and fallen leaves. Curious to see how deep the well went, Lauren leaned over the edge to get a better view.
The crack of rotten wood snapping was followed by a cry of fright as she pitched forward into the darkness.
Then suddenly she felt a firm hand around her arm, jerking her to a stop, pulling her back from the abyss.
Lauren looked up to see a pretty young woman with bright blonde hair, and eyes that were so blue that she couldn’t help staring at them.
‘You should be more careful,’ the woman told her. ‘It’s dangerous to go off by yourself.’
‘I’m sorry. I just… wanted to look.’ She blinked, feeling embarrassed, and tried to change the subject. ‘I’m Lauren. What’s your name?’
The blonde woman hesitated before replying. ‘No one important.’
‘Lauren!’ she heard her father call out. ‘You okay up there?’
A strange look passed over the blonde woman’s face.
‘That’s my dad,’ Lauren explained. ‘He always worries about me.’
‘I can tell,’ she said gently. ‘You should go to him, let him know you are safe.’
She turned to go, then hesitated. ‘What about you?’
Lauren saw a strange look of sadness and longing in the woman’s eyes. ‘I think I’ll stay here a while.’
‘Alone?’
‘Some people are better off that way. Now go, be with your father.’
Lauren nodded, and was just turning away when the young woman spoke up once more. ‘Lauren?’
She turned to look back.
‘I think you will bring out the best in him.’
‘Lauren!’ the voice called again, closer now. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘I’m okay, Dad!’ she replied, shouting back down the hill. ‘I was just…’
When she glanced back towards the blonde woman, she saw nothing. She’d disappeared into the woods again. As if she had never been.
* * *
Only when he was alone did it finally hit Cain.
Grief and shock and anger and utter desolation swept through him, pushing away all rational thought as he broke down and wept. This young woman, this child of his, who had been so wonderfully, vibrantly alive only moments before, was lying dead in front of him. Her life had ended so abruptly that he almost couldn’t make sense of it. It didn’t feel real.
But it was real. And the woman responsible for Lauren’s death was out there somewhere. The woman who had taken away the only thing left in his life that mattered.
When at last Cain had given into his grief, he raised his head, his tear-reddened eyes hardening with absolute resolve.
He would find Anya. No matter how long it took or how many lives it cost, he would find those responsible, and he would kill them.
He wouldn’t stop until every one of them was dead.
Chapter 69
The group was exhausted by the time they reached Anya’s home in Switzerland. Trailing slowly out of the van beneath a bright red and orange sunset, they were oblivious to the magnificent view before them.
Drake, numb and worn out, drifted from room to room, checking on each member of the unlikely team that had now assembled here. Even now he couldn’t bring himself to let go of his responsibility.
Mitchell was in the living room, saying little while she tended to Frost’s wounds. The young operative had protested that she was fine throughout the journey, but exhaustion and pain had finally caught up with her, and she’d fallen asleep on the couch. For once, Drake thought, she actually looked at peace.
Mitchell gave him a nod. ‘Been a long time, Ryan,’ she said, offering a weak smile.
‘It is good to see you, Mitchell,’ Drake said, genuinely meaning it. From what he’d been told, Olivia Mitchell had risked her life to help Anya escape from an ambush in Istanbul a year before, very nearly getting killed in the process.
Mitchell shrugged. ‘I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t sprung me from that hospital, I’d be dead or in prison by now.’
It was a mission he hadn’t thought much about in quite a while, just a favour he had done at Anya’s request. Risking his team to save a woman he’d never met. And yet, he’d never once regretted it.
‘You deserved a second chance, I think.’
Mitchell gave him a knowing look. ‘Maybe we both do.’
Dietrich was standing nearby, staring out at the view. Drake felt the need to say something to him.
‘Quite a view,’ he remarked when Drake stood beside him.
‘It is,’ he agreed. Exhaling, he turned to face the big German. ‘Keira and I would both be dead if it wasn’t for you, Dietrich. You did well.’
‘Not well enough,’ he said grimly. ‘Schaeffer’s dead, thanks to me. A kid looking for a little action.’ He shook his head. ‘I wonder why they keep dying, and the old bastards like us linger on?’
Drake had pondered the same question many times, yet he still had no answer. Maybe it wasn’t needed.
‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Mason too,’ Dietrich went on. ‘He was a good man. I know that means nothing, but there it is anyway.’
He was wrong about tha
t. It did mean something, but Drake didn’t trust himself to respond.
‘What will you do now?’ he asked instead.
Dietrich sighed and looked around the room. ‘Maybe I’ll stick around a while, see if I can keep you and the others out of trouble.’ He shrugged. ‘If they’ll have me.’
Drake nodded. He and Dietrich had a far from glowing history, though he respected the man for his actions today. And he sensed they would need every ally they could get in the battles that still lay ahead.
But those were concerns for another day. For now, he was simply too drained to think about it.
Yasin was sitting on a chair nearby, his knees drawn up to his chest. Drake recalled him putting on a facade of relaxed confidence, trying to seem older than his years, but that was gone now. He looked like what he was: a child, scared and shaken.
How and why this kid had ended up in Anya’s care after Drake parted company with him in Islamabad, he had no idea. Anya would doubtless explain it later, but the fact remained he was here now.
Drake didn’t know quite what to say to him, but he approached anyway, feeling a strange responsibility towards the boy.
‘All right, mate?’ he asked, kneeling down beside him.
He turned his big, liquid brown eyes on Drake. The look in them was heartbreaking. ‘She died for me,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Lauren. I tried to charge at that man with the gun. He was going to kill me, but she stepped in his way. She died to protect me.’ He swallowed. ‘Why would she do that?’
Drake felt like a hand had reached inside his chest and closed around his heart. He knew who was really responsible for Lauren’s death, and it wasn’t Yasin.
‘She must have been a good person,’ Drake managed to say. ‘She wanted to help.’
‘And now she is dead.’
‘But you’re alive. Be thankful for that.’ It was all he could think to say. ‘Make the most of it, for her sake.’
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