Carlson held it up to his ear. “It’s still not getting through,” he said, frowning.
Kane tried her own radio. She heard a crackling noise coming through the tiny speaker, barely audible. If a signal was there, it was still too weak to be of any use.
“You got me those cameras?” she asked, trying to mask her frustration.
“Yeah, we’re live,” Carlson said, waving her forward.
Kane got to her feet and made her way over. “This the control room?”
“You can see the server banks here,” Carlson said, pointing at the monitor. “Bad guys here, here, and here.”
“And who the hell are those two?” Kane asked, pointing at two blurry figures dressed in familiar-looking clothes. They were creeping forward, keeping close to the side wall.
“Is that...?”
Holy hell. Kane peered at the fuzzy image. “That’s Leopold all right,” she said. “What the hell is he doing?”
Chapter 84
LEOPOLD CREPT FORWARD, head down, and followed Jerome. The SWAT unit had reduced the frequency of their return fire, probably to conserve ammo. On the far side of the room, he could hear Hawkes and his team on the move, making their way closer to Kane’s position.
Time’s running out.
Ahead, another two-man team, less than ten feet away. They were crouched on the floor, facing front. Jerome kept low, pressed on, approaching them from behind. He reached the next empty desk, stepping around the shattered computer equipment.
“Hold it,” hissed Jerome, one palm out behind him. “Wait for the right moment.”
Leopold sidled up next to him. “And that would be?”
Another burst of fire from behind the server units, and Jerome rolled out from behind the desk, taking aim at the two men up ahead. He let of a controlled burst of rounds, the noise lost in Hawkes’ return fire.
Jerome rolled back behind cover. He looked up at Leopold, grinning. “Two more down. Seven to go.”
Chapter 85
A WOMAN’S VOICE stuttered over the radio and Kane jumped in surprise. She pulled out her handset and held it up to her ear.
“Kane? This is Jordan. Do you copy?”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad to hear your voice, Sergeant.”
“Likewise.”
“Looks like we’re good to go,” said Kane. “Get Walters on the line. Let’s shut this thing down.”
“Copy that.”
Kane slapped Carlson on the shoulder. “See, I told you this would work.”
“Four minutes,” Carlson said. “We’re not out of trouble yet.”
“Do your thing.”
Carlson nodded and picked up his own radio. He pressed the mic button. “I need RTCC support. The second layer of encryption will take too long to get through manually. I need a little help.”
The radio fizzled. “This is Walters,” a woman’s voice said. “Can you get me your IP address?”
Carlson reeled off a string of numbers.
“Give me a minute,” said Walters. The line went quiet.
“Looks like Blake is pulling his weight for once,” said Kane, glancing at one of the monitors. She turned and got the attention of one of the other SWAT officers. “There’s a group of seven clustered around the north-east side,” she said. “With the others out of commission, we can flank them.”
The officer nodded. “Beats sitting here.”
“Take three men and make your way over from the west. If you can get behind them, this is all over. I’ll cover you from the front. Everyone else can lay down suppressing fire. Copy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Move fast,” said Kane. “And try to stay alive.”
Chapter 86
HAWKES GRUNTED IN frustration and checked his magazine. He was running low. Of more concern, he hadn’t heard any movement from the men on the other side of the room – meaning they were either dead, or out of ammunition. Neither scenario filled him with confidence.
The control center didn’t exactly present a prime location for a firefight, at least not for anyone trying to retake the area from enemy hands. The sheltered server station and comms panel made for excellent cover, and moving through the wasteland of shattered computer monitors and empty desks made progress slow. It was almost impossible to get a flanking position without taking heavy casualties.
Hawkes closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If the SWAT unit managed to break through the encryption Kowalski had set up, they could disarm the devices remotely. If that wasn’t bad enough, the comms panel had a direct link to the ships engine and navigation systems, as well as surveillance feeds and the satellite link. It had been designed to provide a tactical advantage if the ship were ever boarded, but it seemed that the strategy had worked too well.
Glancing behind him, Hawkes waved Grayson over. Kowalski, Higgs, and four others were nearby.
“Sir?” Grayson said, positioning himself behind the desk.
“We don’t stand a chance of getting out of here without taking these assholes out,” said Hawkes. “They’ve got the advantage of a strong defensive position, not to mention the potential access to the ship’s major systems.”
“What are your orders, sir?”
“Short of hoping they run out of ammunition before we do, we’ve got two options. We either haul ass out of here and take our chances, or we go for a full-on assault. We might get lucky; we might not. If not, we go down fighting.”
“We knew the risks, sir. And I speak for my men when I say we aren’t running anywhere.”
Hawkes smiled grimly. “My thoughts exactly.”
“I’ll get everyone ready, sir. Just give the signal.”
Hawkes heard a rustling sound, coming from somewhere across the room. Peering out from behind the desk, he saw a shadow move across the floor, fifty feet away near the opposite wall.
They’re coming.
He turned to Grayson. “Looks like that call’s been made for us, soldier. Engage on my mark.”
Chapter 87
LEOPOLD FLINCHED AS he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and he raised his weapon. The UMP submachine gun felt heavy in his hands, cumbersome and overly complicated. He wasn’t entirely sure he even knew how to fire it.
He felt Jerome tense up next to him. “Hold your position,” he said. “We’ve got friendlies coming in.”
Leopold peered out from behind the workstation. Sure enough, up ahead, he saw four SWAT officers approaching. They were moving fast, sticking close to the wall, just a few feet away. One of them noticed him and held up a fist. The others stopped.
“We should lend a hand,” said Jerome, whispering.
Leopold nodded. “Then I’m going to need something I know how to operate.” He tossed the UMP onto the ground and picked up the Glock.
The SWAT officer waved him forward. Jerome led the way, keeping to a crouch.
“Seven men,” Jerome said, once he’d reached the unit leader. “Tight cluster, east side. About twenty feet from the comms panel, based on what I could make out. If we spread out, take cover, we can take them down.”
“Agreed. We managed to get a feed to their security cameras. They’re blocked in, nowhere to run.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
The unit commander nodded and waved his men forward. They advanced, breaking away from the wall and heading single-file toward the other side of the room, using the remnants of the center office for cover.
As they drew within around twenty feet of Hawkes’ position, the unit leader halted. He turned his head, performed some hand gestures Leopold didn’t recognize. The three other SWAT officers crept forward.
“They’re going to fan out,” said Jerome, apparently anticipating Leopold’s next question. “With a wide angle of fire, Hawkes’ position will be compromised.”
“Like shooting fish in a barrel?”
“If the fish were heavily armed mercenaries and the barrel was a multimillion dollar control
room, sure.”
Leopold shrugged. “Tomato, to-mah-to.”
“Just stay behind me. And try not to get shot.”
The unit commander held up a hand. “Wait for Kane.” He pressed a button on his radio and waited.
Leopold flinched as a burst of gunfire erupted from behind the server units, lighting up the dimly lit room with a blinding flash.
“Now!”
The SWAT team moved forward, three of the officers spreading out to the side as Kane and her team lay down heavy suppressive fire. Leopold glanced ahead, but couldn’t make out Hawkes or any of the others.
Where the hell did they go?
He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Jerome raised his UMP as Leopold caught a glimpse of movement ahead. Letting out a short burst from the weapon, Jerome crouched and took up a defensive position. His target buckled and twisted, half a dozen rounds hitting him square in the chest, throwing him backward onto the floor. He didn’t get up again.
More movement to the east, and the SWAT officers engaged, lighting up the room in a hailstorm of bullets.
Chapter 88
HAWKES LET OUT a roar as he saw Grayson and Kowalski fall, their tangled bodies falling in a heap just a few feet from cover. He checked his watch.
Two minutes until the devices activate. At least they’ll have something to remember us by.
The colonel knew he was out of options. His gambit had played out badly, and now there remained only one way out. He dropped his UMP to the floor, magazine empty, and checked his sidearm.
Ten rounds, one in the chamber. An honorable death.
Hawkes saw movement to his right and got himself ready. Whatever happened, he was taking as many of those assholes down with him.
Ahead, he saw the big guy – Blake’s bodyguard – moving slowly toward his position, his attention focused a little off to the side.
Now or never...
Hawkes got to his feet and brought his Glock up, letting off a round. The bodyguard flinched, stumbling backward into one of the desks as one of the bullets slammed into his shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon. His position exposed, Hawkes rushed forward as one of the SWAT officers opened fire.
The colonel winced as one of the rounds caught him in the leg, but steadied himself and kept driving forward. His momentum carrying him too fast to guarantee an accurate shot, Hawkes kept his Glock lowered and launched himself into the air toward the big guy, ignoring the burning pain in his thigh.
He landed hard, knocking the bodyguard on to the floor. The colonel let out a grunt of pain as his target rolled and sent Hawkes skidding off into the desk.
The bodyguard jumped up to his feet again, quicker than Hawkes would have thought possible. The colonel scrambled off the floor, bringing his gun around. He felt a sharp pain in his hand as his opponent lashed out with his foot, sending the Glock clattering off across the room, out of reach.
Hawkes reached for his knife, drawing it from the sheath strapped to his boot. He held it deftly, lunging forward and keeping the blade close to his chest.
The big guy reacted as expected, twisting to the side to minimize his exposure. Hawkes compensated, shifting his weight onto his injured leg, ignoring the stabbing pain as he kept moving. He forced the bodyguard to follow his circle, using the man’s body to protect him from the SWAT officers’ line of fire.
The bodyguard attacked. Hawkes lashed out with the knife, hoping to get inside the big guy’s reach. His opponent anticipated the move and blocked it with his forearm, grabbing hold of the colonel’s wrist.
Forced out of his stance, Hawke’s felt himself stumble. A sharp pain erupted from his already broken finger as the bodyguard yanked it backward, and the colonel let out a roar.
He felt a blow to his inner knee joint, and found himself falling to the floor. As he went down, Hawkes kicked out with his good leg, catching his opponent in the shin.
Twisting onto his back, Hawkes hoisted himself back upright. Every muscle in his body screamed – a mixture of pain and adrenaline making his hands shake.
He lunged forward again and the bodyguard dove out of the way. Hawkes compensated, but too late. He saw the flash of gunfire and the colonel felt something punch into his chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He stumbled backward, gasping for breath, and fell to the floor.
Hawkes looked up. Leopold Blake glared down at him, holding a Glock in his right hand. The barrel was still smoking.
The colonel smiled weakly. “You’ve got your father’s instincts,” he said, barely able to force out the words. “I can see why he had hope for you.”
Blake’s son said something, but Hawkes couldn’t make it out. The room had shifted into blackness, a blurred vignette clawing its way across his field of vision. There was no pain any more, only a peaceful haze.
The colonel closed his eyes.
An honorable death.
Chapter 89
MARY GRITTED HER teeth, gripped the radio mic a little tighter and tried to resist the urge to scream down the line.
“Ninety seconds,” a male voice said, barely audible over the sound of static and gunfire.
Walters was on the line with him. “I’ve routed the IP address through the FBI servers. Their encryption program is light-years better than anything we’ve got. You can thank Director Ward for that one.”
“You can thank me if it works,” said Ward. “How much longer?”
“I’ve got the link set up, the program has dedicated full CPU resources to us. It shouldn’t be…” Walters paused. “Got it! Carlson, can you confirm remote access?”
“Affirmative. You have control. Sixty-eight seconds.”
“Stay with me,” Walters said. “I can see your screen now. I need to locate the remote activation protocols.”
“Jordan, you there?” Ward asked.
“Yes, sir.” Of course I’m here. I’ve been stuck in this damn chair for the last twenty minutes.
“Good. Listen up. I think I figured it out.”
“Figured what out, sir?”
“Why Robert Blake is missing from our records. I found the answer. It explains everything – how he knew all about our covert operations, our procedures. Why he’s doing this.” Ward paused. “And I’m afraid it’s not good news.”
Chapter 90
LEOPOLD HOLSTERED HIS Glock and followed Jerome and the others to meet up with Kane. He noticed Jerome’s shoulder, where a pool of dark blood had formed on his shirt.
“It’s just a flesh wound,” said Jerome. “Bullet went straight through.” He winced. “Stings like hell, though.”
“We’ll be out of here soon,” said Leopold. “Just take it easy.”
“You’re the boss.”
They reached the comms panel and Kane waved them forward. “We’re not out of the woods yet, gentlemen,” she said. “Less than a minute until those bombs go off, and the geniuses at the RTCC haven’t figured out how to shut them down.”
“Any casualties?” asked Jerome.
“One man hit,” Kane replied. She glanced over at one of the SWAT officers – a man of about thirty, slumped up against one of the server units. “Harper, you still with us?”
Harper nodded slowly, his breathing labored.
“We’re nearly out; just hold on,” she said. “Carlson, what’s your status?”
“Forty seconds,” said Carlson. “They’ve found a way through, but it’s taking time.”
“Stay here and hold your position,” said Kane. “I’ve got more work to do.” She turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” asked Leopold.
“Your father is still onboard this ship. I’m not letting him slip away.”
“You can’t go after him yourself,” said Jerome. “It’s not safe.”
“I need my team here, in case there are any more surprises. And you’re no good to me in your current condition. How much blood have you lost?”
Jerome narrowed his eyes. “I feel fine.”
�
��Which is great, right up until the point you pass out during a firefight and leave my ass out in the open.”
Leopold stepped forward. “Take me with you.”
“You?” Kane seemed to consider it.
“I did manage to take down Hawkes. Two guns are better than one.”
“Your father is just one man,” said Kane. “And I was trained for this, remember?”
“Just one man who managed to evade capture for twenty years and kill dozens of people,” said Leopold. “I’m not doing this for your sake. I’ve earned the right to end this on my terms.”
Kane hesitated. She glanced at Jerome.
“This isn’t his call,” said Leopold. “And right now, he’s not in any condition to stop me. I’m not asking permission.”
“Leopold...”
“Jerome, this is my fight. My chance to make up for a lifetime of bad decisions. You’re not going to stop me.”
The bodyguard smiled. “I wasn’t going to,” he said. “I was only going to tell you to stay safe. If anyone’s going to get hurt,” he glanced at Kane, “make sure it’s her.”
“Thanks a lot,” said Kane. She turned to Leopold. “You coming or what?”
Leopold nodded, picked up a radio handset, and headed for the exit. “Just try and stop me.”
Chapter 91
MARY HEARD WALTERS come back on the line, cutting off Director Ward midsentence.
“Sir, sorry to interrupt,” she said. “It looks like I’ve found it.”
“Copy that,” Carlson said. “Try and shut it down. You’ve got eleven seconds.”
“I’m working on it.”
Mary heard the sound of frantic typing.
“Nine seconds,” Carlson said.
“Almost there.”
Fallen: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers Book 5) Page 28