Devil's Island

by David Leadbeater

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  The Devil was tall, taller even than Luther and Molokai, but well-proportioned for he had the muscular physique to match. He’d be an intimidating man even without the coating of other men’s fresh blood. His face was angular and white; he appeared to be of Eastern European origin. His head was bald. He carried himself with the confidence and disdain of a man that expected to be obeyed.

  “Lie down on your stomachs,” the Devil said in a voice lacking any trace of an accent. “So that I can slit your throats.”

  With a snap of his wrist he flicked gore from the blade of his knife in their direction. Drake heard some splatter his vest but didn’t look down. The Devil advanced a step, giving eight burly mercs the chance to squeeze past him and aim their weapons.

  A pocket of quiet enveloped them.

  “That isn’t gonna happen,” Drake said.

  “It will. One day.”

  “Say—” Alicia waved her rifle “—can we see your horns?”

  “Mock all you like, but you will rue the day you met the Devil. You will regret ever hearing my name. You know what I can do.”

  Drake knew, and so did the rest of the SPEAR team. He was aware of Mai only just a few steps away from them now, leading her wards at a slow pace.

  “You’ve been spending too much time with Kovalenko,” Dahl said. “You’re starting to sound like him.”

  The Devil spat blood onto the wooden planks. “He is a walking dead man too. He should never have crossed the Devil.”

  Drake stared into those soulless eyes and saw how the man had earned his name. “Then tell me this . . . why the hell are you nuking this island?”

  “Because Kovalenko got inside my head!” came the hissed reply. “Convinced me it would be a good idea. I’ll tell you this . . . the nuke is to cover up the most terrible deed the Blood King has ever done, the most terrible deed a man can do. On this island he made scientists break down a large lump of plutonium stolen from an abandoned base in Chechnya. Once done, they made him twenty low-yield nuclear bombs.”

  Dahl gasped. Alicia spoke for all of them. “Are you fucking crazy? He could blight the world with those.”

  “I don’t think he has intentions of using them. Or so he says. They’re more insurance, or for a future project. Well . . . now that I’ve got all that off my chest, shall we fight?”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Luther asked. “Here. Now.”

  “Because I am a pragmatist and, one way or another, I want the Blood King to suffer.”

  Mai came alongside. She didn’t stop, just walked straight up to the bloodied man and stared him right in the eye.

  “Run,” she whispered. “Run away, now. Because if I get the chance I am going to send you straight down to fucking Hell.”

  The huddled, terrified prisoners at her back formed the foundation of her moral anger.

  The Devil backed away and ran a hand over his bald scalp. “You know what I can do?”

  Mai dropped her rifle and raised her knife so that it was inches from his throat. “You come near my family, or the families of anyone I care for, ever again, and I’ll make you wish you’d never heard my name.”

  Shouts sprang up from the crowd of prisoners. Mai’s words were galvanizing them. Luther unhooked the chain that blocked their way to the motor launch.

  The Devil cleared his throat. “That’s my boat. Why do you think it’s still here?”

  “I don’t see you on it,” Alicia came right back.

  Drake rolled his eyes. “Are we gonna fight, or what?”

  “I was just doing that,” the Devil said. “For fun, when you showed up and looked like you were about to steal my ride. Now I’m gonna kill you all. Oh, and you . . .” He glanced around Mai, straight at Dahl. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  He kicked out at Mai. She caught the blow and twisted to the side, letting it fly past. The Devil’s eight mercs sprang into action, launching themselves at Alicia and Kinimaka and anyone else standing in the front line. Blows were rained down and blocked. Other blows found their targets. Knives flashed. A spiked Kevlar wristband smashed Kenzie across the temple, sending her to her knees, stunned. Dallas stepped in, grabbed the wrist and struck it with an elbow. The merc screamed as the arm broke. Kenzie shook her head, dazed.

  “We can’t let them take control of the boat,” Dahl grated to all those around him. “It’s the only way to get everyone off this bloody island.”

  “Speaking of that,” Drake said. “One hour until the explosion.”

  And then they were in the thick of it, holding off the Devil’s mercs and trying to protect the prisoners from other factions cramming the length of the dock. It was a wild melee; a twisting, turning, frantic mix of hand-to-hand fighting, watching out for deadly missiles and keeping control of their part of the dock.

  The prisoners huddled close to the rail. Dahl and Drake and others formed a half circle around them. Mercenaries attacked, breaking against the defense, falling dead or crawling away. Arrows were loosed and taken on bulletproof vests or evaded. Alicia and Hayden fell, gasping. Karin picked up Dallas.

  They stood together and fought as one, shooting islanders and mercs when they could, punching and stabbing them when they couldn’t. It was a pitched battle under the bright silver moon. It was against a ticking clock and oncoming certain death. It was a race against time before the ships’ captains decided to set sail.

  The Devil came at them with both knives and, when he lost those, continued with a rifle with a deadly bayonet attached. The bayonet was off-putting and he used it like nothing Drake had ever seen. It stabbed and swept and defended. It was thrust and then sliced at an angle.

  First Mai confronted him, but was swept to the side by a large merc. Next, Drake came up against him. The Devil didn’t land blows—every attack was designed to be a final kill. Every feint and parry lead to a deadly blow. He was unorthodox, surprising. Drake struggled. He took hard thrusts to the stomach and a slice to the arm. He staggered to the left.

  Dahl took over.

  But there was no beating the Devil back. He stood his ground and fought in that wild, unconventional manner. Dahl was looking heated enough to simply charge him when Luther gave a shout.

  “Go, go, go!”

  The prisoners swarmed across the plank of wood leading to the motor launch. They fled over one at a time and, thankfully, several of the men leapt toward the cabin to find the starter motor.

  Four of the Devil’s big mercs were down, four others were fighting like demons. These were professional special ops soldiers, handpicked for their expertise; far from the usual fodder the SPEAR team encountered. Molokai struggled with one whilst Kinimaka stumbled to and fro with another, both men clasping each other in a bear hug that was anything but placid.

  Dahl backed away from the Devil. A swarm of islanders came from the dock’s far side then, smashing into the Devil and the SPEAR team alike. Everyone staggered, fell or went down to their knees. Bodies passed over and above them or fell alongside. Some tried to jump on the plank and reach the motor launch, but Mai and Alicia were up fast enough to pick them off with well-placed shots.

  All the prisoners were on board. The engine fired up. Lights came on, flooding the deck. Mai and Alicia stood sentry at the entrance to the boarding gate, soon joined by Dino and Karin.

  “Move!” Alicia shouted, raising her rifle.

  Drake didn’t wait. The four shooters had control of the battle and the situation. He trusted them. He turned his back on the fight and fled to the launch, hitting the plank and running on board. Feet pounded at his back and he was ready for an enemy, but when he whirled, knife ready, he saw Dahl then Luther.

  Together, they lined the back of the launch, guns targeted, covering everyone else’s headlong charge onto the big boat. The Devil glared at them through a mask of blood, his lips tightly sealed. Only three big mercs still guarded him and they tried to pull him away.

  Five other boats remained around t
he docks, the rest were pounding through the crashing waves toward their ships. Mai was last aboard the launch, skidding as she hit the boards of the deck. Drake shoved off the plank they had used as a walkway and Luther bellowed out an order to start moving.

  Behind, the dock still surged with men, but it was a more localized struggle now. Just two packs, mostly made up of Creepers and Hunters, fighting for the last three boats. Still, arrows shot toward them and a spear crashed into the side of their boat, sinking in and vibrating loudly. Shots were fired. Everyone dove to the deck.

  Drake crawled to the side, where he could peer out and see what the Devil was up to.

  Alicia rested her head on his shoulder. “What do you see, Drakey?”

  He smiled, happy she was at his side. They were breathing heavily, unable to tell which whorls of blood came from their own seeping wounds. They were both still shocked at everything that had happened today. All they had seen. And all they had left behind.

  “He’s commandeered one of the speedboats. Just him and his three goons. The bastard’s already on his way to freedom.”

  “The last man we need roaming the world,” Alicia said.

  “You can bet your ass one of those goons is Grant Hawkins,” Hayden said. “The inside man Tolley told us about. If the devil gets away, Hawkins will be useful.”

  “With the devil and Kovalenko free, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.” Dahl said.”

  Mai fell in beside them, checking her watch. “Forty nine minutes,” she said. “We’re going to have to speed up in order to reach safe distance.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  As their launch drew away from the brightly lit dock area, everyone stood close and stared in silence. The sights that met their eyes were stunning to behold. From the end of the dock to the beach, men fought, apparently unable to break free from their combat to flee. What remained of the Scavenger clan stalked the prisoner’s compound and the keep, dragging two enemies along with them by the hair.

  Fires burned. The top floor of the keep was in flames. The sandy beach was a churned mass of yellow grit and blood. Shouts and screams of desperation filled the air but no quarter was given. Clansmen even ran back, away from the boats, to end feuds with their enemies. Weapons rose and fell everywhere. Gunshots still rang out.

  The sound of speedboats roaring brought their gazes to the waiting flotilla of ships.

  Drake cursed. Only two remained. The Devil was arrowing toward one whilst a boat full of fighting men bounced chaotically toward the other. Two other ships had departed not so long ago—he could see their lights bouncing up and down in the distance as they plowed through the high seas.

  Men aboard dinghies and small rafts paddled with their hands, hoping to reach a safe distance. On others all lay dead as if they’d engaged in ritual suicide. Drake knew they’d probably been picked off by sharp shooters.

  Their own craft smashed through the center of a bobbing dinghy, sending plumes of water and three men high into the air. There were dozens of figures in the water too, striking out for some distant shore. Drake couldn’t imagine where they would go. Guam was a long way from here.

  The island with its irregular shores and cliffs, its mountains and trees, grew smaller but more identifiable as they motored away. The high mountain towered over it all, keeping its terrible secrets forever now, it seemed. Nobody would ever know what had happened to the poor creatures who lived up there.

  Without evidence, without proof, it was only one more word-of-mouth indictment of the Devil himself.

  Drake checked the countdown. “Thirty eight minutes,” he said. “Most of those guys aren’t gonna make it.”

  Everyone crowded closer around the stern of the boat. Molokai, Luther and Kinimaka walked to the raised prow, where they could see just as well and help offset the balance. The SPEAR team took those moments to relax, recharge and give thanks that they had survived. Mai crossed to Luther’s side. Dino stayed close to Karin. Not only had it been a tough battle up the mountain for them, it had been an arduous voyage in a container across the ocean too. This then, was their first real breath of freedom.

  Hayden and Kinimaka sat together, one in front of the other. In the stillness, Drake felt the pain of a dozen throbbing wounds. A shot of penicillin was probably in order too.

  “How long?” Hayden asked.

  “Thirty five minutes,” Drake said. “Are we at safe distance yet?”

  “No way, we’re gonna have to get moving.” Hayden turned to shout at the pilots.

  Then it happened. Nobody had thought that the timer might have sped up or skipped forward more than once after Molokai’s botched attempt to disarm it, but clearly it had.

  There was a devastating precursor flash, which made everyone on board the launch spin away. Then there came a white hot, searing explosion of light, something that turned the backs of their eyelids a bright red for several long, terrifying seconds. As the flash died away, the rumbling began. It built to a crescendo; an echoing, thundering, resounding explosion that might have been the entire earth moving. It came in waves, crashing over the boat and all those on board.

  Drake slammed his hands to his ears, looking to the island now that the initial explosive light had vanished. The noise was so great that it was like a physical force slamming against his eyeballs. His skin rippled, his lips were dry as bone. A reverberating, crashing din was all he knew. Light still covered the island, plumes and plumes of it burgeoning out. It was too bright, hurting his eyes. The thunder crashed by and the light swelled, glowing clouds burgeoning from the point of the explosion.

  It was everything. It was all they could see, hear and think about. It saturated their senses so completely they knew nothing else.

  Then it was gone.

  Drake gasped and fell to the deck. The clouds mushroomed upward. The shockwave would come next and then the fallout. If they weren’t far enough away they’d be killed. He looked up to see the blast of air spreading out from the island. It churned the beach into ash. It chopped the waves into foam and flurry. It skimmed the ocean, an unstoppable force.

  “Down!”

  Drake grabbed Alicia and pulled her under his body, sheltering her as best he could. He knew the rest of the SPEAR team would be doing more or less the same. He saw one of the children peering from underneath her mother’s chest, dark eyes full of fear.

  The worst of it never came. The brunt of the shockwave petered out before striking the boat. A hot gust of wind did hit them, propelling the boat forward for about twenty feet, making the prow lift and skim across the rolling waters at high speed, but it died out as quickly as it came. Drake waited half a minute and then raised his head, staring back toward the island.

  “Low yield,” he said. “Thank God for that.”

  “I echo that sentiment,” Alicia said. “Wholeheartedly.”

  Slowly, those aboard the boat sat up, happy to be alive. The two pilots grabbed the steering wheel and held on, one of them calling out to Luther for a course. More people rose, so long prisoners but now free and able to do as they pleased. It would be a long road to rehabilitation but at least they had the chance and the strength to start.

  “I hope they make it,” Drake said as Dahl walked up to them. “I can’t imagine what they’ve been through.”

  “Those with younger children stand the best chance,” Dahl said. “Because kids are resilient, and they can get you through anything.”

  “You hiding from Kenzie?” Alicia peered around him.

  “Yeah, a little.”

  “Want me to chuck her overboard for you?”

  Dahl peered at her. “I take back what I said about kids. Maybe they need an Alicia with them. You seem able to bounce back from anything.”

  “It’s either that, Torsty, or maybe I present a cheery front so they can’t see me crying inside.”

  Dahl grabbed her and hugged her close. “Stop being soft,” he said. “You know we all love you.”

  Drake watched the cl
oud expand up toward the atmosphere. There were sounds of happiness all around, claps on backs and handshakes.

  But he knew, although they’d won this time, the battle was far from over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  The motor launch sailed on into the dark ocean, guided by its own navigation and the twinkling stars above.

  Hayden called the relevant authorities, delegating where she could. It wasn’t long before the United States military was dispatching crafts and vessels from Guam.

  “A couple of hours,” Hayden reported to everyone. “Less probably, and we’ll be rescued.”

  They kept an eye on the ocean, but no other crafts were visible through the gloomy dark. Trackers were left on so that their rescuers would be able to pinpoint their location. They drifted with the current, watching the radar and navigational instruments, but no dangers presented themselves. Soon, they had put Devil’s Island to their stern.

  Drake found he now had the time to share everything he’d wanted to whilst they were on the island. He hadn’t seen Mai or Luther since they left for their meal back in London, and commended them for their incredible efforts since. They commiserated with each other over Lauren and Smyth but looked forward to visiting Yorgi. Karin had been gone longer and he’d never even met Dino. He talked briefly to them, learning how Karin had sought to infiltrate the Blood King’s organization, and wondered how close she’d come to joining.

  Maybe not close at all.

  Then there were Kenzie and Dallas, the first of whom had quit the team before London, the second dragged along for the wild ride. He spoke to them and made it clear they were both welcome to stay with the team. Kenzie’s eyes still strayed in Dahl’s direction but didn’t remain there for long.

  They gathered around the stern, holding onto the brass handrail and gazing into the blackest of black nights. The only lights out there were vague reflections of the scattered stars and rolling wedges of silver moonlight.

  “I hate it that the Devil escaped,” Hayden said. “It’s just another evil bastard out in the world.”