Weapons of the Gods (Matt Drake Book 18)

by David Leadbeater

  “Wait,” she said. “The guy on the right just dropped his soap.”

  Seconds passed. Alicia peered harder, but then the taller of the three men wiped soap from his eyes and spotted them.

  “Hey!”

  Alicia set off without thinking, blocking Molokai’s aim. She couldn’t watch the bloody destruction of three unarmed men, despite their choice of occupation. An annoyed grunt sounded behind and then she was totally committed, dashing quickly toward the three naked mercs and feeling somewhat surreal.

  The things I do for my job.

  Kenzie was alongside, clearly wanting in on the action. The mercs lost their expressions of shock and discomfort, and took defensive positions. Alicia knew there was simply no point in bouncing off a musclebound body, so she dropped and slid in, using the water to smooth her approach. A kick upward as she neared the tallest merc, and a foot hooked behind his knee, caused him to buckle and fall forward and then she was up, at his back. She slammed an elbow down on his neck, felt him stagger.

  He turned as she struck again, taking a hit to the ribs. His soaking wet body helped divert some of the power of her blow. It also helped him slip closer. She punched again, a double strike to the sternum. He staggered backward this time, head forced forward. Alicia front-kicked his stomach. The man slipped to one knee. She attacked but he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.

  “Shit, dude, this ain’t how I roll.”

  “I won’t let go.” He squeezed harder, trying to crush her ribs.

  “Didn’t realize you cared.”

  She used his own slippery body to squeeze down through his hands, and then they were both rolling on the floor, soaked through.

  Kenzie certainly didn’t stand on ceremony, using her opponent’s nakedness to help herself. The blows she struck were telling, and well placed. In his desperation though, the merc grabbed her knees and forced her to the floor, so that she also was grappling through the sloshing waters. The third merc ducked behind the wrestlers too as Molokai lined him up in his sights.

  “Typical mercenary,” Molokai intoned. “Yorgi, my friend, go get him.”

  The Russian thief stared. “Why can’t you?”

  “I don’t want to get my feet wet.”

  “Oh, sorry, is that a leper thing?”

  “No, it’s a sanity thing. Just lift his head up a little and I’ll do the rest.”

  “I remember now. You feel the cold quite badly, yes? Well, so do I. And I don’t want to feel anything else, thank you. Those guys are naked.”

  “It doesn’t seem to bother the women!”

  Yorgi shook his head at the huge man. “You have a lot to learn about Alicia Myles.”

  The showers still surged and the banging sound of guitars screamed from the cellphone. Alicia lifted her man by the ankles, knowing she didn’t have to do too much to set him down hard on his spine. It worked, but she fell onto his midriff, getting a bit closer than she’d bargained for. It was impossible to lay down the power and the telling blows amid such slick mayhem. Her clothing was soaked, her boots filled with water. Maybe this idea hadn’t been such a good one after all.

  She used the slick surface to crawl up his top half, grabbed hold of his head and forced it beneath the shower’s pounding flow. He gurgled and struggled; Alicia using her knee to force the breath from his body. To her right Kenzie struggled with her merc and now Alicia saw the third crouching behind her and looking scared.

  Molokai?

  The man should come with a fucking leash, never mind the enigmatic robes. Alicia held her opponent in place and then heard the sloshing of boots as another attacker came from her right. It was Yorgi, and he launched himself at the third merc with what looked like a broken piece of tile in his hand. Despite all the incredible, witty one-liners this opportunity offered Alicia she couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear for the Russian.

  He was no fighter, and clearly wanted to knock the third merc into unconsciousness rather than kill him. Alicia was forced to wait extra seconds as she saw Yorgi smash the merc across the temple, draw blood, and then slip heavily onto his own tailbone. The air rushed out of him; his face turned white. The merc rebounded and kicked him in the face. The tile went skimming away.

  Alicia hammered her merc hard until he moved no more, then pulled him so that his face was clear of the water. She saw Kenzie employing an interesting handhold with her opponent, one arm passing under his groin and half way up his back whilst the other choked him into unconsciousness. Clearly, the girl had a few cool tricks in her arsenal. Alicia met the third merc boot-first, making sure it contacted heavily with his right cheek. Then she rose cautiously and moved in as he fell away. By the time he looked up she was standing over him.

  Yorgi scrambled up to her. “Hurry.”

  “You sure you don’t want get it on with this mammoth?”

  “No. I was just saving his life.”

  “You hear that?” Alicia bent down and smashed the merc in the face. “He . . . was . . . just—” each word signaled a punch “—saving . . . your . . . life.”

  The man bellowed loudly and rose up, shedding water. He came at Alicia. She grabbed his shoulders and spun him away, but he somehow arrested the slide with a solidly planted back foot and then came again. Alicia smashed an elbow into his nose, stunning him, then proceeded to lash out half a dozen more times. The merc fell back every time, bleeding profusely from the nose and forehead.

  He put his head down and attacked once more, a bull in a shower stall. She stepped smartly aside as he reached her, caught hold of his head, and added some momentum of her own. Unable to stop, he smashed skull first into the concrete wall where the showers were set, then groaned as he leaned there, trying not to slip to the floor. Alicia allowed him no dignity, planting her foot against his ass and pushing until he lost balance, falling among the flowing waters.

  She whipped her head around. Kenzie had choked her opponent out and now rose, dripping water and soaked to the bone. Alicia stared at her, feeling the liquid sluicing off her own body in waves.

  “Still think that was a good idea?” Kenzie asked.

  “It wasn’t my best,” Alicia admitted. “I guess the sight of man-sausage just confuses my brain.”

  Molokai met them as they exited the shower area, trying to shake the worst of the water away. Alicia squeezed her hair and Kenzie smoothed her clothes. Yorgi emptied his boots. They turned for a last glance back at the showers.

  “Surreal,” Alicia commented.

  “Waste of time,” Molokai said. “Five seconds and I’d have ended them.”

  “Sometimes,” Alicia said, “you just have to try harder.”

  “And now we leave live, capable enemies at our backs.”

  Alicia hadn’t failed to notice. She’d taken their cellphones, clothes and discarded weapons. “I doubt that, my friend.”

  Molokai ignored her and headed for the exit door, taking a moment to peer up and down the corridor. The coast was clear, and gunfire raged from a distant corner of the house.

  “We have to go.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Leaving the mercs and that area of the extensive asylum behind, the foursome raced for the side where the other teams were engaged in battle.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Drake smashed through weak, wooden paneling, leaving it in splinters in his wake, and then rolled twice until a spray of bullets had temporarily ceased. He was pinned down, but fortunately it was all a distraction. Drake was the bait and Luther was the hook. The single merc that targeted Drake didn’t see the enormous, bald-headed behemoth charging in from his left, and paid a hefty price. Luther struck, bones smashed, and the merc entered unconsciousness before he even knew what had happened.

  Luther looked for Drake. “You okay?”

  The Englishman was already up, shaking his head in disappointment. “Bloody hell, man. C’mon, let’s find the others.”

  Two minutes later and they were stealing up behind Mai, Hayden an
d Kinimaka. It was the Japanese woman that turned.

  “Did you find out where the sword is?”

  “Nah. Luther the Hulk decided to show up instead. Knocked our merc out cold.”

  Mai widened her eyes at the big man. “Oh, Luther. Really?”

  Drake was incredulous to see Luther lower his head. “Yeah, sorry Mai.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “You two sound like a pair of pansies.”

  Hayden waved for their full attention. “There’s another merc bedded down just ahead. Pretty soon he’s gonna realize that this corridor is constructed of wooden paneling, but he’s hired help so I think we have a few minutes. I’m thinking . . . percussion?”

  Drake nodded along with everyone else. At that moment Alicia and her small team arrived and made them whole again.

  “How many?” Kinimaka asked.

  “We took out five in total.”

  “Okay, so that leaves our friend here and three more. They must have the sword. Anything from the perimeter?”

  Hayden checked her comms. “No movement out there. Cops have the place ringed and sealed.”

  Drake was staring at Alicia and her team. “Why the hell are you all wet?”

  Alicia shook droplets over him. “Stopped for a shower.”

  “So why isn’t Molokai wet? And why is Yorgi blushing?”

  Alicia stroked the Russian’s cheek. “What happens in the asylum stays in the asylum, right Yogi?”

  Drake sized Alicia, Kenzie and Yorgi up, all three soaked through and sporting fresh bruises. “Had to be a hell of a threesome, guys. You ready for more?”

  Hayden threw the grenade and jammed her ears with her fingers. When the blast erupted, they moved quickly, firing hard on the hidden man but ensuring they fired high. When Drake slipped around the side of a sturdy overturned bookcase he found the merc on his back, blood leaking from his ears.

  “Shit. Doesn’t look good, people.”

  Hayden righted the merc as Kinimaka swept his weapons away with stroke of a hand. Carefully, she planted his back against the bookcase and let his eyes swim back into focus.

  “Can you hear me?”

  The merc blinked.

  “I think percussion grenades were a bad idea,” Kinimaka commented.

  “Ya think?” Hayden patted the man’s cheek gently. “Speak up sooner next time, Mano. This dude’s less use than a carrot.”

  The man’s eyes cleared suddenly and he blinked up at Hayden. “What?”

  “You can hear me now? Oh, good.”

  She dropped to her knees and framed his face tightly with her hands, not too hard but still making sure he could feel her. “Where is the weapon you guys stole from the Brits? The Sword of Mars.”

  The merc stared and then tried to look around. Hayden let him see Kinimaka, Drake and Luther, all standing menacingly close, and then asked the same question again.

  “Last chance, dickhead,” Drake added.

  The merc kicked his legs but they were jelly, pushed his arms against the floor but found he had no strength. Finally, he slumped. “All right,” he moaned. “The pizza just arrived.”

  Hayden bit her lip. “I think the blast must have confused him.”

  “No, no. The pizza guy delivered so the boss took the boxes to the comms room. To eat. He has the sword.”

  “Where’s the comms room?”

  He relayed the information, then Smyth and Dahl rendered him immobile with plastic zip ties. “Don’t worry, the cops’ll be along soon.” The Swede grinned.

  As a team, they slipped toward the comms room, wary of traps and wondering when the last three remaining mercs would make their appearance. The asylum brooded heavily all around them, its scarred, cold walls bearing the weight of oppressive secrets; its half-closed, creaking doors having endured with a stoic silence all the arduous years it housed the criminally insane. In the air, Drake imagined, there still might linger ghosts of former terrors, watching over the new trespassers, gathering in the gloom.

  He shook it off, treading the old boards as cautiously as he could, for more than one reason.

  Hayden stopped as a new smell infused the air. “We’re close.”

  Drake smelled it too. The mouth-watering aroma of several pepperoni pizzas. Up ahead, a shadow darted. Shouts went up among the SPEAR team, most hitting the deck and others falling into nearby rooms. The shadow appeared again, this time holding a machine gun, becoming solid as he peered around a corner.

  Shots rang out. Bullets struck wood, plaster and block work. Hayden threw another grenade and, in the aftermath, used the confusion to charge ahead, Kinimaka at her side. It became a full-on assault as Dahl, Luther and Molokai joined in, jostling for position along the hallway. Drake was up and chasing them with Alicia and Mai alongside.

  “New boys are keen,” Drake muttered.

  “Mai’s got her Luther all wound up,” Alicia baited.

  “Don’t be a fool, Taz. You know Drake’s the only one for me.”

  “I’ll give him back when he’s all worn out, bitch.”

  “Hey!” Drake shouted. “Quit it.”

  The leaders burst through a door frame, quite literally. Dahl and Luther were shoulder to shoulder and neither gave ground. The wooden frame splintered, smashed apart. Dahl went through a step ahead, gun raised, and Drake was barely a step behind Luther.

  The room was small, almost fully occupied by a central table. A computer desk and monitor sat in one corner, practically inaccessible because of the table, a live Skype screen in use. The monitor was blank, but the “live” light still blinked.

  On the table sat six enormous pizzas in distinctively colored boxes.

  Resting atop the highest box of pizzas was the Sword of Mars.

  Now that’s surreal. Drake entertained the fleeting thought as men attacked from both sides. The onslaught was weak at best, both men affected by the grenade. Drake didn’t blame them. He’d been some way from the explosion and could still hear the ringing in his ears.

  Luther and Dahl put the two men down with ease. Drake relaxed, looking around at the beaten enemy and the weapon they had come to reclaim. “Well, I’m starting to feel a bit superfluous.”

  “Finally,” Dahl nodded, “the Yorkshire bell end sees the glaring truth.”

  “Says the man from the land of blonde porn.” Drake pushed the Swede aside. “Are we done here?”

  Hayden reached over the pizza boxes and grabbed the sword. “Looks like it hasn’t been damaged.” She turned it over in her hands. “Not that we saw it too well last time.”

  “We were fighting a shitload of enemies and Kenzie was riding her nuclear weapon,” Alicia pointed out.

  “Ah, yes.” Kenzie smiled, remembering fondly. “And I haven’t ridden anything like it since.” She glared at Dahl’s back.

  “We good?” Kinimaka asked. “I secured these guys, but there are some still unaccounted for. And hell, I can barely turn full circle in here.”

  Luther backed through the shattered door frame. “Follow me, big guy. There ain’t room for all of us in there.”

  Kinimaka held up a hand. “Wait. We can’t let this pizza go to waste.” He scooped up all of the boxes.

  With a steady prudence they exited the comms room. Hayden stayed behind for a few seconds, trying to trace the live communication, but it had been disabled already and she couldn’t find anything. “We’ll ask the Brits to deep-dive this,” she said. “See if they can come up with something.”

  Drake took control of the sword, keeping it away from Kenzie, whose eyes glazed at the sight of it. Drake let the pizza-carrying Hawaiian go first, noting that Hayden quickly followed. It was good to see the pair trying again. Where would we all be without affection and passion? And more importantly, where would we all be without family?

  He studied the team that left the house; the newcomers adding their own peculiar personalities to the mix; the usual crew that had fought for civilians and the innocent from the beginning, and still fought�
�despite the ambiguous severing of their friendship with the US government.

  A temporary thing.

  Maybe. But if it was that easy to disavow a team, possibly alienate several teams, why would they continue to aid this government? This administration? It should be as hard to estrange a Special Forces team as it was to get close to the President.

  But sadly, the opposite was true.

  Drake noticed the rain had started to fall as he left the asylum and wondered if the sky was weeping tears for the damned.

  Or was it for all the soldiers?

  CHAPTER SIX

  The following day, the morning was bright and crisp, the blue skies an unbroken dome above. Hyde Park was teeming with dog walkers, cyclists and joggers. Luckily, it was a considerably large place and the SPEAR team kicked their way across the glistening grass with morning dew on their boots, meeting Major Bennett and Captain Cambridge on the path that ran past the statue of Achilles.

  Hayden held the Sword of Mars, wrapped in two supermarket carrier bags. Bennett couldn’t hide the smile when he saw it. “Really?”

  Hayden shrugged. “Best we could do on short notice and all the sword-wrapping shops were closed last night.”

  “Interesting place to meet.” Dahl eyed Achilles. “Topical.”

  “We aim to please,” Bennett said. “It’s also tourist free at this time of a morning. Now, we do have much to talk about . . .” He paused and picked up two cardboard trays full of steaming hot drinks. Cambridge picked up another and offered them around.

  “Civilized.” Luther nodded his thanks.

  “Don’t get used to it. First things first—Tempest are totally hell-bent on gathering all the weapons of the gods. There appears to be no order to them, no clues on how to find them. We’re relying on getting close and then using this rare element to pinpoint the location. The point of that recap is to highlight the words ‘getting close’, which is the problematic part. So, what do we know about these weapons?”

  Cambridge held up a thick folder. “Most of the gen’s in here.” He flapped it backward and forward. “Pages full of information on the Sword of Mars and the others. Read it.” He slapped it down on a bench right in front of Hayden.