The Faberge Heist
Page 20
Something reoccurred to him then, something he’d mentioned earlier to the team at large. The cartel never forgave, and they never stopped looking. They’d never let this drop. Even the One Percenters, despite the fact that they’d been rescued, would be high-value targets. Of course, the cartel didn’t know the identities of the Strike Force.
It was a moot point. The op was ongoing. They’d devastated the cartel on their own turf. Drake set his mind straight and focused on the getaway. Shouting erupted from behind. He turned to see dozens of men emerging from the tunnel entrance.
“Cover,” he cried.
Shots rang out. Bullets fired from handgun and machine guns flew wide and high. The team dived to the ground, but continued to scuttle ahead, staying low. They were halfway to their exfil point.
Drake stopped, turned, and opened fire. Alicia and Mai were with him. It served to send their pursuers running for cover and gain them more time. Minutes passed this way—an exchange of gunfire and then a mad dash until Ruiz appeared behind them.
Drake heard him screaming, but only caught a few words.
“Stop hiding and . . . them now! Or I’ll . . .”
The impact of his words was clear. About twenty five Mexicans and Ruiz rushed after them in a group, reckless and unprotected, laying down constant fire. Drake and the others hit the top of a rock mound and then rushed down into a wide valley, temporarily shielded from the bullets.
Ahead, they saw a stunning and welcome sight.
Thunder filled the valley, as did Luther’s getaway vehicle.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
It was a light gray, CH-53K King Stallion; the most powerful, modern and smartest helicopter that the United States military had ever seen. Twenty eight feet high and a hundred feet long, it could travel at 230mph. One of its key roles was to evacuate personnel from hot military and ongoing disaster zones and, to facilitate this, it had window and ramp mounted machine guns.
Its rear ramp was down, and its cutting-edge composite rotors were spinning fast, allowing it to rise slowly from the ground as first Hayden and then the rest of the Strike Force team ran hard toward it.
They ate up the ground fast, but not fast enough.
Ruiz and his men soon topped the last rocky rise and saw what waited for the escapees. The King Stallion was lit, loud and hugely impressive, but it didn’t stop the Mexicans from firing their handguns at it.
“The soldiers!” Ruiz shouted. “Shoot the soldiers!”
Drake dived and rolled, coming up facing backward, firing several volleys. Bullets kicked up dust and gravel around the Mexicans. Some charged down the slope, others took aim. Drake and Dahl and Mai formed a rearguard, covering their friends. Marines ran down the helicopter’s rear ramp, ready to reinforce the team. Gunfire blasted back and forth across the valley.
Ruiz advanced steadily, clearly unable to see defeat or the prudence of retreat. Gods, it seemed, don’t back down, Drake thought. Because they’re invincible, right?
He, Dahl and Mai backed away to the big Sikorsky. The rest of their team were on the ramp, laying down covering fire and, when he looked, back, Drake’s heart missed a beat.
It was an awesome sight. The Strike Force team and the Marines together in three rows; front row lying down, second row kneeling, third row standing and sending unstoppable, lethal hails of firepower right across the valley and straight into the heart of Ruiz’s brutal cartel.
Drake choked up a little. It was one of the greatest sights of his life. This was living. This was reality. This was friendship. This was everything he’d ever wanted; not eating pizza and lounging on a beach. The heart of battle was Drake’s home.
He ran among them and they were safe and free. Hayden radioed the pilots. The Sikorsky lifted higher, rotors chopping in relentless succession. The chopper’s incredible thunder was deafening. The back end lifted just as the front end spun around.
“One more gift we’ve arranged for Ruiz,” Luther said.
Three fifty-caliber machine guns were aimed at the remaining members of the cartel.
Drake backed up the ramp as the horizon wobbled. He could see Ruiz still shouting at his men, still berating and threatening them, even as the fifty cals focused on him.
“Goodnight, motherfucker,” he whispered.
It looked and sounded like the whole area had exploded when the machine guns opened fire. The rocky hillside where the cartel stood shattered apart as the massive shells impacted. Men were shredded. Ruiz was lost in a cloud of blood that blended with all the rock dust and body parts to rain down as a thick red miasma. The guns didn’t stop until everything stopped moving and then the sound of silence was almost deafening.
The Sikorsky hovered. Drake watched the dust settle. Nothing moved down there anymore, not rock, not flesh and bone, not sand. It was still, the fresh grave of brutal men that couldn’t accept when they were beat.
“They dug it themselves,” Cara said, staring. “That grave.”
“I’d like to think we had some input in digging it for them,” Luther said. “After all, it was part of the plan.”
“No more cartel,” Drake said. “No need to worry about them coming after us.” He paused and then said, “Or you.”
To his mind, Cara still looked erratic, as if she might try to grab a gun at any minute. “Hey,” he said, sitting down next to her. “If there’s one thing I know you can do it’s make a bloody deal. My advice? Be the first. Your little team here don’t sound or look too loyal to me and Jax is going away for years. You don’t have to.”
“Deal?”
“How many heists have you pulled? Eight? You must know where some of that booty is now, right? The men or women that orchestrated it. The collectors? Do yourself a favor and stay out of jail.”
Cara looked grateful. Drake rose and moved away to sit next to Alicia. Her first comment was pretty typical.
“New girlfriend?”
“Backup,” Drake said. “In case the current model doesn’t pan out. Or gets too old.”
She smashed the butt of her gun into his solar plexus.
When Drake could breathe again, he looked at her. “What was that for?”
“Sometimes, Drakey you’re a dick.”
He looked shocked. Dahl, next to them leaned forward. “She’s right, you are.”
The Yorkshireman turned to face the Swede. “Piss off, Dahl.”
CHAPTER FORTY
A day later and they were back in Las Vegas.
Not at the Azure this time, where they’d recently returned the Fabergé Eggs. They were seated inside Caesar’s Palace, close to the entrance to the Forum Shops where the carpeted casino floor gave way to highly polished Italian marble. More specifically, they were seated in a slightly elevated eating area which gave them a panoramic view of the casino floor but was quiet at this time of night as most patrons were either out enjoying the nightlife or gambling.
Drake leaned against a rail that separated the eating area from the rest of the casino. “Not too many aches and pains this time.”
“The rest did us good,” Hayden said, tackling a thin pair of crepes that had taken over twenty minutes to arrive.
Drake couldn’t argue with that but had to comment. “It actually took me a day or so to really hit my stride this time.”
Dahl half-choked on his beer. “You hit your stride? Did you get it on video? I never noticed.”
Kenzie was looking a little lost. “But what’s to come?” she asked. “Next, I mean. I feel . . . homeless. Jobless. Unsure.”
“I agree with her,” Alicia said. “This break-between-jobs lark is harder than it sounds.”
Hayden nodded slowly. “You have to find a hobby.”
Alicia cocked her head. “Like what? Badminton?”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“Fighting and killing the scum of the earth makes me happy. Are you suggesting I confine that to the weekends and one evening, or something?”
“I don’t know, Alicia
. But give it a chance.”
She looked at Drake. “What do you think? I know you agree.”
Drake looked to Mai. “I’d like to know what the rest of our team thinks.”
The Japanese woman tapped Luther’s arm. “We did enjoy our time,” she said, “but there’s nothing like being back with the team.”
Luther grinned. “Yeah, my trigger finger had practically seized up.”
One by one, they chimed in. The verdict was unanimous. No more extended layoffs. Hayden broke out her laptop and checked the online HQ. She recorded their status as ‘ready’ and studied the scrolling feed as it offered jobs. Two were snapped up by others as she watched.
“No shortage of takers,” she said. “Looks like everyone feels the same as you guys.”
“You can always take a break,” Drake said. “Or anyone. We don’t all have to be together for every mission.”
“There’s a job in Iraq. A job in the Amazon basin and another in Australia. Any of those sound good?”
“That’s just desert, spiders and heat.” Alicia shivered. “No way am I going to any of those places.”
“Antarctica?”
“Too cold.”
“Right, well where do you want to go?”
Alicia looked up. “Anything in Vegas?”
Drake saved Hayden and asked if there was anything new on the Blood King or the Devil. It turned out a bridge had collapsed two days ago outside New Jersey. Whispers surfacing from the inner workings of the FBI, the CIA and the NSA said all evidence pointed to the work of the Devil. The public at large thought bridge supports had collapsed.
“He’s here then,” Dahl said. “On American soil.”
“All evidence points that way,” Hayden said.
There was no sign of the Blood King, not even the faintest whisper. He’d vanished off the face of the earth for now. Of course, one of the main reasons for that was that he might be hiding from the Devil.
Drake looked up as a waitress brought them a fresh round of crepes. They had an assortment of Starbucks coffees, diet Pepsis, sweet and savory pancakes, a Smashburger classic and an Earl of Sandwich gourmet meal. It appeared now that all their food had arrived.
“To Strike Force.” Drake raised a cup. “The new SPEAR.”
“To Strike Force One,” Hayden said. “Best of the elite.”
“What exactly are we defined as?” Luther asked.
“Special Operations team,” Kinimaka said. “Special Missions unit. A group of people that can come together fast to respond to any and all heavy threats.”
“What do you say?” Hayden asked, forking some pancake around her plate. “Shall we meet up again in three weeks?”
“Hawaii,” Kinimaka said. “I promised Hay I’d take her back to the homeland. We could all meet up there. It’d be fun.”
“Can we kill anyone?” Alicia asked.
“There’s always a few bad guys hanging around.”
“Good. Then I’m up for it. Not three weeks though.”
Mai drank from a bottle of water. “Two? It’s hardly worth traveling back to Tokyo for less than two weeks.”
“You can come with us,” Hayden said quickly. “Honolulu beach will be nice.”
Mai shared a wistful glance with Alicia. It was on Honolulu beach that they’d fought a hard battle against each other in a time that seemed decades past now. But it was slightly less than three years.
“What do you think, Luther?”
“Sure. I never pass up a chance to hit Hawaii.”
“To be clear, the only thing we’ll be hitting is the beach.”
“One week then,” Alicia said, glancing around the table. There were nods from Karin, Dino and Molokai. Dahl assured them he’d be there. There was still about a month to go before Johanna moved the kids back to Stockholm.
That left Kenzie and Dallas, who both had another job.
“Whaddya say?” Hayden asked. “Back to task forces, relic smuggling and Egypt or the sun, sand and surf of Oahu?”
“Egypt.” Alicia crossed her fingers and closed her eyes, whispering. “Egypt, please Egypt. Choose Egypt.”
Kenzie bit her lip. “Well, I guess we’re headed to Hawaii then. If Dallas wants to.”
The black man nodded. Dahl was watching Kenzie. “Hawaii,” he said.
She nodded. Drake was happy. They’d cut their hiatus down from three months to one week. Surely that was long enough for anybody.
He was already itching to get back into the fray. The cartel escape, where he’d been uplifted to see so many soldiers covering his back, had refreshed the old flame. He was ready to save the world again.
“Here’s to the next adventure,” he said, raising a cup.
A round of cheers met his words. Drake grinned. The future was bright for Strike Force One. Every mission was a gamble with their lives to a degree, he thought, but a gamble loaded in their favor. He drank and took a gander around the casino.
“Speaking of gambling,” he said. “Who wants to join me out there?”
He didn’t have to check to know they all followed.
THE END
Here ends another Matt Drake story. I hope you enjoyed the new direction which will offer more diverse stories going forward. The two greatest threats will have to be dealt with for sure—the Blood King and the Devil—but there’s no rush. I have some entertaining, original adventures planned, both in the standard thriller and archaeological thriller genres. As ever, thanks for all the wonderful, genuine support and, if you’d like to contact me, please do so at the email address below.
Drake 22 will release around July/August 2019.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review.
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Other Books by David Leadbeater:
The Matt Drake Series
A constantly evolving, action-packed romp based in the escapist action-adventure genre:
The Bones of Odin (Matt Drake #1)
The Blood King Conspiracy (Matt Drake #2)
The Gates of Hell (Matt Drake 3)
The Tomb of the Gods (Matt Drake #4)
Brothers in Arms (Matt Drake #5)
The Swords of Babylon (Matt Drake #6)
Blood Vengeance (Matt Drake #7)
Last Man Standing (Matt Drake #8)
The Plagues of Pandora (Matt Drake #9)
The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake #10)
The Ghost Ships of Arizona (Matt Drake #11)
The Last Bazaar (Matt Drake #12)
The Edge of Armageddon (Matt Drake #13)
The Treasures of Saint Germain (Matt Drake #14)
Inca Kings (Matt Drake #15)
The Four Corners of the Earth (Matt Drake #16)
The Seven Seals of Egypt (Matt Drake #17)
Weapons of the Gods (Matt Drake #18)
The Blood King Legacy (Matt Drake #19)
Devil’s Island (Matt Drake #20)
The Alicia Myles Series
Aztec Gold (Alicia Myles #1)
Crusader’s Gold (Alicia Myles #2)
Caribbean Gold (Alicia Myles #3)
Chasing Gold (Alecia Myles #4)
The Torsten Dahl Thriller Series
Stand Your Ground (Dahl Thriller #1)
The Relic Hunters Series
The Relic Hunters (Relic Hunters #1)
The Atlantis Cipher (Relic Hunters #2)
The Rogue Series
Rogue (Book One)
The Disavowed Series:
The Razor’s Edge (Disavowed #1)
In Harm’s Way (Disavowed #2)
Threat Level: Red (Disavowed #3)
The Chosen Few Series
Chosen (The Chosen Trilogy #1)
Guardians (The Chosen Tribology #2)
Short Stories
Walking with Ghosts (A short story)
A Whispering of Ghosts (A short story)
All genuine comments
are very welcome at:
davidleadbeater2011@hotmail.co.uk
Twitter: @dleadbeater2011
Visit David’s website for the latest news and information:
davidleadbeater.com
Copyright © 2019 by David Leadbeater
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Thriller, adventure, action, mystery, suspense, archaeological, military, historical, assassination, terrorism, assassin, spy