The Last Bazaar (14 page)

Sharing in the terror of the man with the gun.
That bullet is your only escape.

Drake gained the top of the bank, helping Alicia with one hand. Kinimaka stumbled past them, dripping and covered in rotted vegetation. Now, the lowest of their number was Yorgi, who still held the Glock sighted below.

“Sir,” Drake had no clue how Kinimaka managed to stay in character but was glad he managed it. “He’s not worth saving. He tried to kill us.”

“They’re
all
worth—” Yorgi began, and then stopped and turned his head, staring with dread at Ramses. The stare then turned to cold stone and a shrug as he reverted to character. “Maybe you’re right. Really, I don’t care.”

Ramses eyed him closely. “And that’s the first time I’ve seen the superior risking himself to save the subordinates,” he said. “Why would you do that?”

The Russian shrugged indifferently. “They are my guard,” he said shortly. “And for my wife. The answer is obvious.”

“Maybe,” Ramses mused aloud. “Maybe.”

A gunshot interrupted them. Drake winced as the man caught below chose to blow his own head off. The caimans squirmed and twisted, smelling blood and tearing at flesh. Drake winced again and turned away.

“Shall we go?”

“In a moment,” Ramses insisted. “I want to see this.”

“Your beachcomber will escape. Don’t you want to . . . catch him?”

“I think he is gone and the jungle will take care of him. Or maybe one of the others had better luck? Your missing friend perhaps?”

Drake screened his reaction. He was hoping they wouldn’t notice the missing Swede. Yorgi shrugged and said nothing.

Finally Ramses turned away from the grisly scene. “Well, what a pleasant diversion. Shall we return to the bazaar and the delights I have planned for this evening?”

A half hour later and they were free of Ramses, alone in their tent and fishing around hastily for replacement clothes. It took them a while to remember where they were and what type of stalls were scattered all around.

“We’re dumbasses.” Kinimaka hung his head.

“Not really,” Alicia said. “We’re just not used to shopping at designer boutiques inside a war zone.”

At that moment the tent flap opened and Dahl stepped through. He took one look at the state of their clothes and then shook his head.

“Couldn’t manage without me, huh?”

Drake apprised him of all the details, bemused at the Swede’s reaction and knowing he shouldn’t be.

“Caimans!” Dahl shouted. “You fought caimans and I missed it?” He sounded truly crushed. “Hell, Mano and I could have started a new sport. Caiman tossing.”

Alicia looked up. “Any way you view that comment—it’s dangerous.”

Dahl scowled. “Best part of the bloody mission, and I’m babysitting a surfer.”

Drake then mentioned how their chase had finally ended. Dahl winced and quickly sobered. “This Ramses then, and Akatash—they’re the real deal? Cunning as car salesmen, crooked as Wall Street and crazier than your resident Swedish pin-up boy?”

“Not that I’d agree with some of that,” Drake said. “But yes.”

“Then who’s the priority?”

“What did Hayden say?”

“Shit, I barely spoke to them. I wanted to get back. Hayden’s chomping at the bit, wants in on the fight. Lauren’s tired of guarding our tame terrorists and Smyth’s, well . . . grumpy.”

“Can we pause this?” Alicia complained. “We really need to change these underclothes. I’m heading to the shops.”

Drake hung his head. “I really don’t like this new you.”

“Just sit on yer damn man bench and complain. I’ll grab you a nice tight pair of undies.”

In the end they all shopped and were back at the tent within ten minutes, stripping down and changing with professionalism and maturity, all of them knowing there was a time for ribaldry and a time for gravity.

“Plan?” Kinimaka said when they were finished.

“Pinpoint the main players,” Drake said. “Follow them and keep tabs. When we have all three in our sights we end this corrupt jumble sale.”

Outside, the post-lunch shower had just arrived, mercifully light and brief this time. Still, the humidity rose fast and the ground steamed in protest as Drake and his colleagues set forth with their eyes peeled and intentions clear-cut. Past the boutiques and the slavers’ tent, the private viewing areas and the caiman pit they walked. Groups wandered to and fro, some silent, others laughing or joking drunkenly. Sellers hawked their wares. Drake scanned every nook and cranny. At his side, Alicia pretended tiredness as she peered intently into all the bazaar’s darker places. The leafy canopy waved overhead, spangled with sunlight. Drake was momentarily distracted as a woman dressed like a princess walked by, head and shoulders held regally and gown wrapped around her svelte body in such a complex fashion she might never escape its many folds. The Yorkshireman shook his head sadly. These people were about as out of touch as a London-based politician. The incredulity level rose even more when another princess strode by, her three-foot train held aloft by two servant girls. Drake looked at Alicia and found her, for once, at a loss for words.

“Amazing,” he said. “Even my favorite gobshite is dumbstruck.”

But Alicia hadn’t even seen the princesses. “As endearing as that statement is—alluding to my penchant for adverse commentary—I have to say that I am truly flabbergasted and don’t know what the hell to do.”

Drake followed her gaze. “What is it? Who’s that?”

“Oh fuck. What is
she
doing here? Guys, stop. This is big trouble. See that woman over there? Her name is Kenzie and she’s an artifact and arms smuggler. I came up against her recently during the crusader gold jaunt, and she almost killed us all.”

Drake stared. Dahl stared. Nobody had heard such respect in Alicia’s voice before.

“When you talk about me,” the Swede said, “to others. Do you feel a similar reverence?”

“Shut yer mouth, bitch boy. Listen, Kenzie is an extremist. Lost her family to government mismanagement and went rogue. Turned on them. Now she’s as hard and ruthless as they come.”

“Looks can be mightily deceiving then.” Dahl measured her.

“She wields a katana.”

“Fuuuuuuck.” If the men’s tongues could have bounced off the forest floor that was the moment. Drake tried to reel his back in. “So . . . um, I mean what’s your plan? Mark her as another target when we have three already? Is she that dangerous?”

“I wouldn’t know whether to kiss her or kill her,” Alicia said. “Maybe I’d do both.”

“Just to distract her, right?” Drake wondered.

“Decision is out of our hands now,” Alicia breathed. “She just saw me.”

Drake reached for his guns.

Birdcall echoed across the clearing. Groups of men huddled and emitted a muted chorus of whispering. Heavy animal movements crashed through the rainforest.

Drake scrutinized Kenzie and her seven bodyguards, wondering who was the most lethal. For their part the other team appeared just as surprised to hear what Kenzie had to say. The artifact smuggler turned a frosty glare on Alicia to convey what was about to happen.

“Move!” Dahl snapped. “We don’t yet have eyes on our three principals. The bazaar must stay in play, for now.”

Knowing he was right, Drake made a run straight at Kenzie as the others fanned out around him. They gambled that Kenzie would choose not to draw attention and might yet have business to finalize. The woman tested them, waiting as long as she dared before whirling and melting into the compact jungle. Alicia crashed in seconds later, as headlong as a deer running for its life. Drake had no time to check who noticed their aggressive departure, but hoped everyone would remain as aloof as they had been to proceedings all along. The chase was on; Kenzie’s men didn’t defend their rear this close to the bazaar which told Drake all he needed to know. The woman was here on business and couldn’t risk shutting this thing down.

The mass of the jungle enveloped them almost immediately as they plowed deeper in. Dahl and Alicia ran alongside as best they could with Kinimaka and Yorgi bringing up the rear, the Russian thief hampered by his fancy clothes. Drake tried to recall the last time he’d seen Alicia spooked, and couldn’t. Maybe it had something to do with this change she was undergoing.

Maybe not. Just trust her.

Of course he did. Drake shook the misgivings from his mind. His closest quarry was only two or three meters away but might as well have been a hundred due to the thick undergrowth and necessity to not use a gun. Kenzie blazed a new trail somewhere ahead, following a route only she knew.

Drake thrust branches aside and leapt across clusters of fallen branches, vaulted ankle-hungry ditches and squeezed between boughs. The trailing mercenary then turned and risked a glance, saw Dahl only a meter from his heels and withdrew a knife. Drawing a hand back to throw he stumbled into an unseen channel and crashed among the fallen vegetation. A scream was muffled by the jungle. Dahl fell on him with gusto, pent up from all the sneaking around and necessities to make nice to evil men. Drake forged further ahead, closing in on the next merc.

The man sensed him, withdrew a gun whilst facing the front and then whirled quickly with it clasped in one hand. The shot blasted past Drake’s shoulder, thudding into a tree branch. Drake jumped onto a tangle of brush and used its spring to launch himself at the other man. The impact sent the gun flying and another shot zinging upward at the canopy. Drake throat-punched his man and took an elbow to the eye. Grunting, he flinched away but still managed to throw an extra-debilitating set of knuckles to his opponent’s own eye socket. With the man clutching at his head, Drake finished him off.

“Hurry up, for fuck’s sake,” Alicia growled from up ahead. “Bitch is getting away.”

Drake chased her further into the thick mass just as it began to thin out. Ahead he spied a clearing, a stream running through the middle and a set of dark huddled shapes. Alicia quickly flung herself headlong as Kenzie and her boys whirled and unleashed lead.

Drake hugged a tree. Dahl crouched at its base, prepping his handgun as splinters whizzed by his head. After a moment he glanced up at Drake. “Ready?”

“Just waiting for you.”

Dahl returned fire, sending the mercs scrambling for cover. Drake took a moment to survey the clearing, seeing now that the set of dark shapes were long thatched huts with ragged holes for doors and no windows. Drab gray in color they appeared run down, overgrown and abandoned. Kenzie, it seemed, had known about them.

Drake called loud enough for his team to hear. “Move in carefully. She may have some kind of a stash here.”

Dahl and Alicia laid a little covering fire as the team maneuvered to a more advantageous position. As he moved to the far side of the huts, Drake began to see a much larger picture. What had appeared to be a small clearing was actually a larger encampment. Two separate rutted tracks led away into the jungle with two old Jeeps and a rusted, multi-colored bus to one side. A more modern, timber-built building stood with its back to the high trees. Drake even saw a bright yellow prop plane at the far side of the clearing, though how it had arrived was a mystery. The trail was just too narrow. As they watched, Kenzie and her men broke across the large encampment, skirted a small lake and made for the building. Drake and Alicia picked off one man between them and the others scattered.

“Move!”

Dahl and Kinimaka crab-walked to the side of the hut, flattening their bodies to the leafy wall. The team closed in fast before their enemies could establish valuable positions, harassing them all the way. Drake ducked two bullets, realized his luck wouldn’t last much longer, and jumped headlong into one of the Jeeps. More bullets clanged off the hood and one ricocheted around the interior. Alicia was crouched at the rear and now crawled into the open bed.

“Let’s go!”

“I can’t . . .” Drake clammed up as he raised his head and spied the keys dangling in the ignition. So this had been Kenzie’s way in and way out—an old meth station probably that she’d commandeered for the day. He turned the key, cranking the engine as Dahl and Kinimaka ducked around the back. The windshield exploded in a hail of glass. Drake squirmed into the footwell, depressed the gas pedal and aimed the Jeep in as straight a direction as he could manage without lifting his head above the steering wheel. Lead zipped and popped off the paintwork as the vehicle closed in on the mercs. Alicia groaned as she unbalanced in the back, slamming her shoulders against the rear window which exploded into jagged splinters.

A moment later Drake saw the edge of a roof block out the green leafery.

“Brace!”

The Jeep smashed into the wooden structure, luck sending it against a load-bearing support. When the thick member splintered, the entire construction creaked and the guns suddenly went quiet.

Drake slipped backwards out of the car. The vision ahead was utter chaos. The roof came down fast, the walls buckling as three men disseminated as fast as their legs could go. A jagged portion of roof sliced down on top of one, the blood fountain causing Drake to avert his eyes. The other two stumbled into the roadway, one tripping over the deep ruts. Then, the edge of the roof smashed onto the Jeep and Drake was struck. Throwing up a hand he warded off the lighter chunks but a heavier piece sent him to his knees.

Alicia pulled him aside. “Legs,” she said. “Put there for a reason.”

Drake wrenched his body upright. Ahead, Dahl and Kinimaka were already pursuing the two fleeing mercs. Beyond that, Kenzie and one other man were attempting to climb aboard the second Jeep. Drake stopped, raised his gun and sighted on the tires.

One burst should do it . . .

The fourth or fifth bullet destroyed one of the tires and then Drake was changing mags.

Kenzie shouted out, enraged. Drake saw a glimpse of her character as she lashed out at the man at her side, sending him out of the Jeep and backwards into the dirt. Then the woman was jumping out herself, and Drake saw the gun held at her side and the sword strapped to her back. Dahl pounded one escaping merc as Kinimaka dealt with another, then both men ran hard at Kenzie. Drake followed, eyes wary and Alicia approached from the far side. Kenzie didn’t wait around to chat, running for the broken-down bus. Drake adjusted his course and then paused as Dahl took his breath away.

What the . . .

One minute the Swede was loping after the last remaining merc, the next his body was flailing in the air with a rope looped around his ankle. Dahl swung head-down in a wide arc, shouting and cursing his bad luck.

Drake followed the rope to its source, an overhanging tree branch. In many ways he wished he could leave his friend swinging there . . . dangling . . . at least for twenty minutes or so, but the Swede would make easy target practice for their enemies.

Kinimaka lifted Dahl as Alicia unlooped the rope. Kenzie jumped into the bus. The last merc took aim but Drake was faster, knocking him off his feet with three to the chest and one to the middle of the forehead.

To his credit, Dahl hit the ground running, having kept a bead on Kenzie the whole time. Drake struggled to catch up to him, an entire book of wisecracks desperately hovering on the tip of his tongue.

“Hold up, Kenzie,” Alicia called out. “You’re on your own.”

“Yeah,” came a reply. “Just how I like it, bitch.”

Drake reflected that these two were probably not compatible as they all neared the bus. It took him a second to realize something else.

“Back!” he cried. “Get back now!”

No way would this woman, whom Alicia respected, corner herself this way. And if there was one trap . . .

The team reacted to his instruction, stopping and then diving for nearby trees. Drake hauled at Alicia’s jacket and thrust her down as she chanced one last glance toward their prey.

The bus shuddered and jigged in a set of mini-explosions, nothing major. More like a string of small charges, timed to burst as Kenzie’s pursuers ran down the length of the bus.
Shit, this woman’s deadly.

Alicia took off immediately, snubbing the explosions and flying glass and metal in her attempt to chase Kenzie down. Drake saw a figure leap from the front of the bus followed by legs pumping into the undergrowth, Alicia in hot pursuit.

The bus split in half, both sides sliding away from each other with tortured shrieks of metal. One of the halves smashed to the thick earth with a massive soil and leaf displacement, filling the air with a cloud of vegetation.

Another minute of running and a mound of huge, black round edged rocks formed the start of a steep hillside. Kenzie was already two levels up and now turned, rifle in hand. Everyone dove left and right, rolling for cover.

“Not alive,” Drake heard the woman’s words forced out through intense stress. “Never alive.”

He understood a moment later it wasn’t true. Bullets slammed all around. If Kenzie really wanted to die she could take her own life. The Amazon offered many ways. He peered around a green cluster to see Alicia making her way up the side of the boulder mass, unseen by Kenzie.

One chance.

He fired, keeping Kenzie’s attention riveted firmly below.

Alicia slipped between rocks, fleet of foot and as fast as a cat. Soon, she had reached a higher elevation than Kenzie and signaled to the rest of the team.

Drake took point. “Give up now!” he shouted. “And we’ll take you back alive.”

Kenzie emptied a mag in answer.

Dahl fired back, then shouted. “Look above. You’re covered. You’re finished.”

Kenzie growled, locking eyes with Alicia, then appearing to quickly decide that the rest of the team at least wouldn’t fire on her. She leapt off the rock, hit the jungle floor and rolled, coming up several feet from Dahl’s position and snarling.

“You want me? Take me down, if you can.”

Dahl deflected blows as he retreated. Kenzie kicked at his midriff, sending him over a log. Drake leapt in from one side, and Kinimaka from another. Suddenly Kenzie was reaching to her back and then the katana was in her hands, swinging left to right and glinting like the murderous eyes of a madman. All eyes swiveled as Alicia skidded to a stop only yards away.

“Don’t . . .” she began.

Then Kenzie whirled the blade left and right, her movements an orchestrated dance as her arms swayed and her body rolled. Drake evaded fast but still saw a rip appear in his sleeve and a line of blood open up across the top of his arm. Kinimaka saw his Glock whirl through the air, knocked form his hand. Terrified, the Hawaiian wasted a valuable moment checking that his hand was still attached to his wrist, and then Kenzie’s blade pushed at his throat.

“Walk away,” she hissed. “Or he dies.”

Alicia pressed the barrel of her gun against the back of Kenzie’s neck. “Drop the sword,” she said. “Or lose the head.”

Drake rose slowly. Dahl emerged from the undergrowth, covered in mulch. The Yorkshireman unleashed the first of many. “Not having your best day, are you pal?”

Dahl merely growled and then brushed himself down. “She’s not going to kill anyone. She wants to live.”

Kenzie’s mouth became a thin, hard line. Kinimaka’s eyes betrayed just how close to puncturing his neck she was.

Drake didn’t move. “If you shoot her right in the head she should be brain dead before she could force the point of that blade home.”

Alicia sidestepped so that Kinimaka was out of her line of fire. “Close your eyes, Mano. Oh, and your mouth. Don’t wanna be swallowing anything too nasty.”

Kenzie tensed. “You are really calling my bluff? Damn.”

The katana swung away from the Hawaiian, arcing around as Kenzie spun and aimed at Alicia’s midriff. It flashed by with a millimeter of clearance as Alicia, alert and wily as ever, stepped beyond range. Drake watched in frustration as the point returned to Mano’s throat.

“Mate,” he said. “That was your chance to move.”