Brothers In Arms (Matt Drake 5) (25 page)

“What are we looking at?”

“An estate that belongs to Shaun Kingston, our arms dealer. It would appear the man’s getting ready to move out big time. See all the damn vehicles? That’s a shitload of metal, a shitload of manpower and a shitload of weapons. And that. . .” Kinimaka tapped a moving figure surrounded by other moving figures. “As far as we can tell is General Kwong Yang.”

Drake’s eyes widened. “They’
re both together right now? Still in the country? Oh, please don’t tell me that’s in Europe. I just came from there.”

“It’s not in Europe, Drake.” Jonathan Gates came
over to stand next to his shoulder. “Kingston’s compound is a twenty minute drive from here.” He shrugged. “Maybe thirty.”

Drake felt an instant rush of adrenalin.
“Tool up, people,” he hissed. “We’ll make his last journey a ride he’ll never forget.”

Just as the dawn rose, a sprawling convoy of vehicles hit the highway hard. The rising red hues painted their dark colors crimson, marking them red, as though tinged with blood. Drake and his team were racing to intercept them in three separate Humvees. Hayden and Kinimaka shared the first, Dahl and Komodo the second, with Drake’s partner being Alicia. When they closed in on their
prey and the convoy spotted them, the race was well and truly on.

Drake shook his head at the excessive procession. It was
being led by a black supercar, what looked to Drake like a new custom-specced Viper. Behind it ran a trio of SUVs, a Ford F150 with an open bed, a shiny chrome Mack truck and, somewhat bizarrely, a stretch limo.

“That’s the Korean.” Drake flicked the comms open so everyone could hear. “In the limo. Gotta be. And Kingston will be in the Viper. The rest is pure firepower.”

Dahl raced up alongside him, eyeballing him as the two cars sped along inches apart. “Are you quite ready for this?”

Drake gunned the Humvee, inching ahead. “Stop poncing around, mate. Mai’s still on the island and this is our last chance.”

“I find sometimes in moments of extreme stress it helps to set a little wager. What do you think?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Simple. Count bad guys. The one who takes out the most wins.”

“I’m in,” Alicia said instantly, grinning.

Drake chewed his lower lip. Hayden remained notably uncommunicative.

Dahl said, “Scared you’ll lose, Drake?”

“Nope. I just don’t want to see you sloping off to Sweden with your tail between your legs when you get pounded. I’m in. Winner takes all.”

Dahl’s Humvee roared ahead, rapidly closing the gap between himself and the last SUV in line. At the same time, Drake saw the heavily tinted SUV windows being rolled down and weapons come bristling out as if the vehicle had suddenly raised its heckles. The huge Mack truck swerved over two lanes as its rear doors were flung back.

Four men stood in the opening, sub-machine guns ready.

Men popped their heads up above the F150’s high sides just as the sound of cop car sirens and the thud of approaching helicopters hammered the air.

Drake wasted no time slamming the accelerator through the floorboards. “Game on.”

For once, the roaring engines of powerful vehicles drowned out the crazy fusillade of lead that erupted across the three-lane interstate. Drake didn’t flinch as bullets pinged off the Humvee’s windshield and frame, trusting the upgrade kits to protect the armored vehicle. Hayden switched to the left, aiming to put one of the SUVs between her and the truck. Dahl was already past an SUV and fast approaching the eighteen-wheeler, sparks flashing off his vehicle like a Disney fireworks show.

The F150 loomed outside Alicia’s part of the windshield.

“Can’t get too much of a good thing.” The Englishwoman cracked her window, aimed her gun, and fired. A man twisted and collapsed into the flatbed, his gun flying through the air and clattering down the highway. A bullet somehow managed to fizz in through Alicia’s open window, thudding into her headrest.

Alicia whistled. “Nice shot. Wow, you know, Drakey, I miss this.”

Drake swerved. A police chopper thundered overhead. His rearview filled with the flashing blue lights of
the speeding cop cars Gates had requested, some of them clearly modified as they began to catch up. He gasped as he saw Dahl’s Humvee dart to and fro behind the Mack truck. The bad guys were leaning out of the truck’s rear hold, trying to bring a rocket launcher to bear on the Swede’s transport.

A terrible hiss signaled that the weapon had discharged early. The missile impacted against the road near Dahl’s passenger-side wheel and skipped away, exploding against a barrier that ran along the verge. From above Drake came the sound of rapid gunfire. Bullets rattled against the truck, taking out one of the men in the back. The police chopper dove in low, passing right over Drake’s windshield, so close he could almost have stood up in his seat and grabbed one if its skids through his window. The helicopter veered slowly in mid-air as its occupants continued firing. Dahl’s Humvee squealed out of the way, itself strafed by errant gunfire.

The truck started a crazy swerve, a slow motion snaking of machinery so heavy its rear seemed to take forever to catch up to its front end. The cab flew into the right-hand lane, the trailer sliced across the other two. The chopper cut sharply left, chasing the wide-open back doors.

A sizzling explosion and a smoke trail burst from the back of the truck. The chopper shuddered as the rocket blasted against its side, veering wildly and losing altitude fast. One of the cops inside fell through the open door, only to save himself by grabbing a skid on his way down.

Alicia held her breath.

The chopper came down fast, the pilot trying desperately to keep it under control as fire licked its tail boom and rotor. The main rotor struggled to carry the damaged chopper, its tail fins hitting the interstate first and crumbling under the impact.

The body of the chopper came down hard. Men leapt out any way they could. The cop who was hugging the landing skid hauled himself around and began a slow, lumbering run toward the median. As Alicia watched in the rear-view mirror, the following convoy of cop cars had reached their brethren and was stopping to tend to them. Three big vehicles powered on through.

The eighteen-wheeler slewed back into the middle lane, its occupants flung to the sides, somehow managing to stay inside the rear container by grabbing at the many ropes and ratchet straps that whipped and thrashed around. Drake gave a tight smile when he saw the RPG launcher clatter onto the road and bounce away.

They all passed a civilian vehicle on the inside, the lone businessman staring in astonishment. Drake started to thank their lucky stars Kingston and his cronies had set out so early, keeping civilian road traffic to a minimum, then realized it would’ve been even better if he’d been planning to set off about thirty minutes later. They’d have caught up to him back at his house. He’d assaulted enough houses, ranches and compounds in the last few months to rate his chances pretty highly.

Hayden was shouting across the airwaves, something about civilians being their priority, a point so obvious even Alicia rolled her eyes.

Then men stood up in the bed of the F150 and began lobbing hand grenades down the highway.

Mai turned to Smyth.

“Well, it’s been fun, my friend, but I think it’s time to leave.”

The marine raised an eyebrow at her. He knew enough about the Japanese agent now to take her at her word. “What’s the plan?”

Mai studied the way her hands were tied for a minute, then started to slowly lift her legs until her ankles touched her ears. Her wrists took the weight, her body contorted back on itself.

Smyth whispered, “Jesus Christ.”

Mai selected a sharp blade that had been hidden inside her boot. “Shut it and watch them.”

“They just noticed. Be quick.”

“One of the advantages of being a bit of a legend in the lethal department,” Mai said as she slit her bonds, “is that no one
normally has the balls to pat you down.”

“Hurry.”

Mai dropped to the ground, massaging her wrists and palming the knife. One of the guards was opening the door, another half dozen poised to file in behind him. Mai spread-eagled herself across Smyth’s body, nose to nose as she chopped his bonds away. “You ready for this?”

“Just lead the way. I’ll follow.”

Mai coiled her body and spun hard, flinging herself across the floor as the first of the guards piled in. She crashed into his legs and the legs of the men behind him, scattering them like skittles. Guns and radios flew randomly, creating chaos. Men hit the floor with their collarbones, their faces and the backs of their heads. Mai wrestled among them, lethal with both knife and fingers, and not a man moved in her wake. Smyth took a running jump and leaped over the top of her, slamming straight into more guards as they breached the doorway. The marine flew into the corridor, rolling, unable to stop himself from hitting the back wall but clever enough to hit it right. With a second’s pause, he reached down and claimed the nearest rifle. A bullet smashed into the wall right next to his head. He swung the barrel around, firing indiscriminately. North Korean guards were flung back by the impact, through the open door into their cell, and against the heavy windows.

“Stop.”
Mai’s command made Smyth rip his finger off the trigger. Then she stood there, not a hair out of place, but with a slight smile playing across her lips.

“Now we take this island.”

Dahl growled in anger as he slammed his foot to the floorboards once more. No one alive had ever fired an RPG at him and got away with it. He wasn’t about to let that change now.

Komodo, the seasoned ex-Delta soldier, swallowed hard. “Um, Dahl…”

The Humvee powered up to the very back of the big Mack truck, inches from touching it. Without a word, the big Swede opened his window and angled his body so he could slip out of the opening. Then he
let go of the wheel and drew his gun.

Komodo yelped and threw himself behind the wheel. With inches to spare, the two huge vehicles sped along the interstate. Those left standing in the back of the eighteen-wheeler fired at the Humvee, seeing their bullets bounce off the windshield. Dahl leaned out the window and pumped half a dozen shots into the opening. A man pirouetted, spraying blood, slammed into the side of the truck and then slipped off the back end. His body bounced along the concrete and across the median at speed, instant roadkill.

“That’s one.” Dahl spoke into his throat mike and used the distraction to gracefully rotate his body until he was sitting out the window, arms rested carefully on the roof, sighting his rifle. Only his legs remained in the car. Komodo used every ounce of concentration and skill to stay on the truck’s rear end. Dahl squeezed his trigger, taking out another enemy. A return bullet grazed the roof near the Swede’s head.

Dahl had had enough. Gyrating quickly, he squeezed fully out of the Humvee, balanced on the edge of the window for half a second and then slithered down the windshield, landing on the hard metal hood. Wind buffeted his face and plucked at his clothes with enthusiastic fingers. The man who had fired the RPG at him raised another weapon.

Bad move, arsehole.

Dahl ran and jumped, one arm aiming his rifle, the other reaching for a thick rope that flapped gently around the back of the truck. As his hand closed around the rope, he fired his gun, taking the RPG firer’s head off at close range. The rope flexed as it took his weight, rolling him out of the truck and around the side.

Dahl bounced off the outside of the eighteen-wheeler, gun aimed high, hanging on with grim determination.

Komodo let out a harsh expletive as his mouth dropped open.

Drake shook his head. “Now he’s showing off.” Alicia whooped with excitement.
“C’mon, Drake!
Get us into the action! The mad Swede’s having all the fun.”

Dahl’s momentum sent him swinging right back through the open doors. Instantly, he let go. Bullets flew past him, fired in haste by the two remaining occupants. Dahl rolled as he hit the metal deck and came up on one knee, firing two head shots.

Both adversaries fell dead.

“Four.” Came over the comms system.

Dahl wasn’t finished yet. Buckling into a pair of ratchet straps, he shot out the lock of a forward door and again stepped out into the blasting wind. For a moment, he hung from the vehicle as he hooked a strap over a rail that ran the length of the truck and then began to traverse sideways toward the cab, one step at a time.

Komodo brought the Humvee around, now seeing the F150 running in front of the truck—thankfully out of
grenades but still with men balancing in the open bed of the vehicle. Beyond that, three SUVs, the limo and the Viper sped, snaking through the sparse traffic.

Komodo gunned the engine as he spied guns being leveled at Dahl from the back of the Ford. As the first man fired, Komodo’s heart leapt into his throat, but the Humvee gave an instant response and surged forward straight into the bullet’s path. As more men opened fire, Komodo kept the big armored vehicle steady, giving the F150 men no human target.