by Rob Jones
“Come on you little weasel!” Kruger shouted. He laughed. “Show yourself!”
Ryan took another deep breath and readied himself. He stared up at the sky. Felt the cold steel of the wheelhouse through his mess of hair. Felt the sea breeze coming in off the South Atlantic. Heard the low rumbling of the trawler’s diesel engine somewhere beneath him.
He checked his gun had that one last round in the chamber for the third time and counted to five before spinning around the bulkhead door and aiming the gun at Kruger.
But he was gone.
He ran over to where the South African had been taking cover but there was nothing there except a few empty cartridges. Then he saw a flash of movement in his peripheral vision and flicked his head to the right to see Kruger jogging down the stairs leading to the lower deck on the starboard side.
Ryan gave chase, feeling the thrill of the hunt for the first time. He was now hunting Kruger – a man who had kept him captive and threatened him with death – and the prospect of taking his revenge was like electricity coursing through his veins. He pounded down the metal steps only to see his enemy darting inside the Navetta, but made the decision to pursue the hunt until the very end.
Inside now, and then he heard the revving of an engine coming from the other side of the boat. Stupidly, he thought for a split second that it was a motorbike but he didn’t work out the truth until a second too late when he emerged on the deck and saw Dirk Kruger racing away from the Navetta on a black Jet Ski. He crossed in front of the bow and sped away into the twilight.
Ryan sprinted back to the rail on the starboard side and raised his gun. Kruger was in range, and even though he was swerving from side to side, he knew he could take him out. He moved his gun from side to side as he tracked the fleeing South African and then he got the man’s head in his sights.
He paused, slowed his breathing and started to squeeze the trigger.
And then he fired.
He lowered his head when he realized he had missed the shot.
*
Vincent Reno felt his life slipping away and knew he had to act now or it would all be over. With no more oxygen, his head was spinning and he was losing his vision. He searched himself for any energy he had left and used his last reserves to wrench Corzo’s hands away from the net and then he hooked his thumbs into the Colombian’s eyes and pushed as hard as he could.
Corzo’s screams made the seawater white with bubbles and he instinctively swam back from Reaper and raised his hands to his eyes. It was the only chance Reaper needed, and he seized the moment. With Corzo still blinded by his attack, Reaper pulled himself free of the net and wrapped it around the Colombian’s arms and legs, tying him inextricably into the tangles of the net.
Corzo lashed out blindly, but missed the former legionnaire who dodged the blows and then used his opponent’s bound body as a ladder to haul himself up out of the water. With the Navetta chugging out to sea ahead of him, he pulled himself up the netting until he was clear of the water and then snatched Corzo’s bowie knife off the deck. He slashed the netting until it was no longer connected to the boat and it rapidly disappeared in the Navetta’s wake.
Reaper heaved the air into his lungs as he watched the Colombian thrashing about in the net in the middle of Guanabara Bay, but then he was still, and there was nothing more to be done.
The Frenchman dropped the knife and jogged up the deck toward the wheelhouse, and it was then he saw Ryan Bale aiming his gun at Kruger who was fleeing on a chunky Jet Ski. He paused a heartbeat longer than a trained soldier and the shot went low, smacking into the machine’s foamy wake, and then the target disappeared behind the peninsula.
*
Ryan Bale’s heart sank as he watched Dirk Kruger tearing away from the Navetta on the Jet Ski. It was a Kawasaki Ultra 310, the most powerful on the market, and now the South African was revving the 1.5 litre engine to its max as he ripped across the surface of Guanabara Bay.
Reaper was pounding along the starboard deck now, and Ryan was relieved to see he was okay, but as Kruger rapidly disappeared into the twilight on his way to the coast, Ryan dropped his head again, dropped the gun and cursed himself for losing his nerve and failing to kill the man. He knew Hawke or Lea or any of the others wouldn’t have paused like that, and it was in that half-second that a human life was taken or saved.
“He got away,” Ryan said. “I tried to take a shot but I missed.”
“You did your best, Ryan,” Reaper said, understanding immediately what had happened. The boy had lost his nerve and paused for a second too long, letting Kruger get away. It wasn't his fault. Not everyone had it in them.
Reaper patted him on the shoulder and rolled a cigarette. “We need to get back to shore.”
They took the Navetta back to the coast where they saw their friends on the dock surrounded by flashing lights and emergency services vehicles. Carvalho was leaning on the hood of his car and looking pretty angry. A few yards to his left Hawke and Lea were pulling up in a cab and now they were walking over to Scarlet and Lexi.
As Reaper and Ryan stepped off the Navetta they watched three black Escalades approach from the road to the north and then pull up alongside the dock.
Eddie Kosinski climbed out the back of the first Escalade and flashed his badge at Carvalho. The police sergeant was clearly expecting him and immediately waved him and his men through the cordon.
He marched up to the ECHO team as bold as brass and ran a hand over his stubble. “Pretty down these parts, huh?”
“Why are you here, Kosinski?” Hawke said. “
“A little bird tipped me off that there was something going down in Rio and you know what I did?”
Scarlet stared at him. “Tried to buy a personality online but couldn’t find any that fit your ego?”
“No – and that’s not funny by the way. What I did was get a few buddies together and come down here for a long weekend. You don’t mind if I join you now, right?”
“Who’s pulling your strings, Kosinski?” Hawke said, taking a step closer and squaring up to him.
“You know that saying about the world being on turtles all the way down? Well with me it’s bosses all the way up, Hawke. You know how it is.”
“If you want the man who tried to loot the Lost City,” Lea said, “he’s on a Jet Ski in that direction.”
Kosinski grinned. “Just leave that to us…”
“You don’t seem to be in much of a hurry to catch the bad guys,” Scarlet said.
It was clear whoever had sent the CIA down here knew a hell of a lot about what was going on, and Kosinski’s ‘little bird’ reference was a cheap shot trying to make him think Alex had been the leak. Hawke grinned, knowing how satisfying it was going to be when he finally crushed Eddie Kosinski. “You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re deliberately letting Dirk Kruger get away tonight.”
“Like you said, you don’t know any better.”
Kosinski gave them a sarcastic smile and walked over to the Navetta. “If you don’t mind, I have an ancient lost treasure to inventory.”
The ECHO team walked along the docks and looked back at Kosinski and his men as they removed the treasure from the Theia.
“We need to get to the bottom of Eddie Kosinski,” Hawke said. He crossed his arms and perched on the edge of a dock piling. “What do we know about him?”
“He’s smug,” Lea said.
“And a bastard,” said Scarlet.
Lexi sighed. “And he gets the better of us too many times.”
“And he’s CIA,” Reaper said.
“Right – so he’s working for someone at the CIA who knows about Dirk Kruger and his activities,” Hawke said.
Scarlet blew out some smoke and looked up at the stars. “Not to mention all that immortality stuff.”
“I think we need Alex to start digging round Langley,” Lea said.
“Agreed,” Hawke said. “She’s very good at that.”
Scarlet let
out a heavy sigh and casually flicked her cigarette butt into the sea. “Come on, you bastards. Let’s go and get a drink.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Tiger looked at Pig and Pig looked at Tiger. Neither man knew the other’s name, and that was how it had always been done. Neither knew where the other lived and neither wanted to know. They were not blood-thirsty, undisciplined gangsters but highly-trained public servants with a job to do. It might be a dirty job, but someone had to do it, and that someone was Tiger and his associates.
Unlike Tiger, Pig was nearing retirement and looking forward to a generous pension which he planned to spend in Zhuhai with his wife. The prefecture-level city was in the subtropical south but the South China Sea kept the temperatures down. It was the perfect place to retire. Just one more job to do and he would punch out and leave the Ministry behind for the rest of his life.
“Who?” was all Pig said. A visit from Tiger could mean only one thing and it wasn’t to play wŭzĭqí.
Tiger said nothing but slid the manila folder across the table.
Pig glanced from the folder back to Tiger and then back down before gently lifting the cover. He raised his eyebrows and then sucked in his lips. “I see.”
“Zhou wants it done in a hurry.”
“Zhou can take a shit in a hurry,” Pig said. “A job like this takes time and careful planning.”
Tiger nodded. He was thinking the same thing.
“Who else have you in mind?”
“Rat.”
“Inevitable, of course.”
“And Monkey.”
Pig nodded his head and after taking another lingering glance inside the folder closed it back up. “He’ll have to be watched.”
“I can handle him.”
Pig nodded. “She’s aged well. Seems a shame.”
“She’s got new friends now. Likes to play games in the West.”
Another tired nod. Tiger wondered if he was keeping the other man away from his bed.
“Where is she?”
“Rio de Janeiro. We don’t know why.”
“When do we go after her?”
“As soon as we get the others. Do you know where they are?”
“Rat is where he always is,” Pig said with a yawn, and pushed his chopsticks back into his soybean noodles. “I dread to think where we’ll find Monkey.” He deftly pulled out a string of the wheat noodles and twirled them around to gather more of the zhajiang sauce. Then he pinched some of the stir-fried beef and dipped it into the salty soybean paste before passing the whole bundle into his mouth.
“How’s the meat?” Tiger asked.
Pig wiped his mouth with a napkin and nodded vehemently. “Delicious.”
The beef was always delicious here.
And Agent Dragonfly’s days were numbered.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Copacabana
“You win some, you lose some.”
Hawke downed his lager and put the glass on the table with a loud smack. “Maybe, Lexi,” he said. “But you don’t lose against a man like Dirk Kruger. We’ve had too many losses. We let Mendoza get away in Mexico – and look at the carnage that mistake cost. We lost Maria and maybe even Rich, and now we let the man responsible for most of that slip through our fingers like sand.”
Ryan took a sip of the lager. “On the bright side, I’m still here. That’s how come we didn’t get Kruger. None of you would have screwed that up.”
Scarlet laughed loudly but immediately stopped, glancing at Ryan. “You’ve changed.”
“Have I?”
She nodded. “You’re now half-nerd, half-man.”
“Well the nerd half wants a cigarette,” Ryan said, and helped himself to one from Scarlet’s pack. He put it in his mouth and fired it up with her Zippo. Everyone stared at him as he blew the smoke out into the air and sighed.
Lea looked concerned. “Are you okay, Ry?”
He gave her a sharp look. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You don’t smoke cigarettes, for one thing.”
Ryan downed his beer and took another drag. “I smoke weed all the time, so what’s the difference?” He shrugged his shoulders and fixed his eyes on her. She could see something was missing now. She knew he was still in shock from the news of Maria’s death, but this seemed like something else, something more… he had a new look in his eyes, a new recklessness she had never seen before.
“Just sayin’…”
Hawke broke the tension by rising from his chair and asking anyone if they wanted another beer. The consensus was clear, so he stepped inside for a few moments. He emerged a few minutes later and pulled his chair out. He sat down with a sigh and handed around the cold beers. The mission had been successful – to a degree. They had ended Saqqal’s insane bioweapon threat and passed the Utopia plague to the authorities, and they had also stopped Kruger from stealing the Lost Treasure of the Incas, but they had lost it all to Eddie Kosinski. Someone had tipped him off and his CIA boys had been all over the Rio docks like white on rice. It wasn’t the first time he had lost the grand prize to Kosinski.
The food Lea had ordered arrived at their table – flame-grilled picanha steaks with black beans and rice, and another round of chilled Brahmas on the side. He took a slow sip of the cold beer and glanced out across Copacabana Beach and the South Atlantic Ocean beyond. Down here in the southern hemisphere it was summer, and the tropical heat of the bay enveloped him like a blanket.
Above him, the stars struggled to be seen through the incredible light pollution of the behemoth city at his back, but he could still see a few in the far eastern sky. He ate some of the steak and tried to relax, but what would have been a perfect evening was destroyed by the absence of Maria, Rich and Alex and he knew everyone here tonight felt the same way. The only consolation was Scarlet hadn’t made any crappy Barry Manilow jokes since they’d arrived at the restaurant.
He tried to shake the thought of their missing friends from his mind, but it lingered like cannon smoke on a battlefield. He lifted his first bottle and finished the beer before picking up the second and taking the top third off in a couple of seconds. He set it down and looked around the small, beleaguered group.
“I think we won today,” Reaper said, but without conviction.
“How’d you work that out?” Lea said.
He gave his usual shrug. “We discovered the Lost City of the Incas for one thing, and we stopped Kruger getting the treasure,” he said matter-of-factly. He took a long drag on his roll-up cigarette and winced as he sucked the smoke down. When he spoke next, the smoke tumbled out with his words. “And we ended the threat of Saqqal and Jawad,” he said, tapping his forefinger on the table to underline the point.
“I guess, but it still feels like a failure,” Lea said.
“And we all know why,” Ryan said.
“Nevertheless,” Scarlet threw in. “We won the battle we set out to win.”
Hawke shook his head. “We might have won the battle, but we’re losing the war. Our team is in shreds and Elysium is smouldering ruins.”
“We will win, Joe,” Lea said.
“We’ve got a lot of work to do, Lea,” he said.
The others nodded in agreement. They all knew what was expected of them. With Eden out of the game and no way to know when or even if he would be back, they all had to give more to the cause, but they all knew how hard it would be.
Hawke unbuttoned the top of his shirt and Scarlet wolf-whistled loudly causing a few of the diners to turn and gawp.
“Weyhay!” she said. “Undo another couple of buttons just for me will you, darling?”
He gave her a sarcastic smirk.
“And if you pop open the top of your shorts you can let that gut out for a few minutes.”
Hawke stared at her and after a long period of silence a thin, uncertain smile broke out on his face. They had a lot of work to do – hunting down Dirk Kruger for a start, not to mention smashing the Oracle and his sinister cult – bu
t he had the camaraderie of the people sitting around this table… the camaraderie of his closest friends, and nothing could beat that. He raised his bottle over the center of the table.
“To revenge?” Scarlet said with a dark sparkle in her eyes.
“No,” Hawke said with a solemn shake of his head. “To old friends and new adventures.”
EPILOGUE
Galway Bay
Maggie Donovan liked to watch the weather coming in. It was one of the few things she could do at her age that didn’t make her bones ache and her eyelids heavy. Today was not disappointing. Everyone at the Haven Bay Nursing Home had been following the storm out in the Atlantic these last few days. It looked like a nasty one, and she pitied anyone caught out in it.
Now, the water in the bay was churning under a leaden sky and the coast guard had warned the trawlermen to come in, but it was warm and cosy in Maggie’s soft chair, and she celebrated the fact with a small glass of whiskey. She liked it without fuss, which the staff knew meant neat and at least three fingers high or it got sent back. She liked Tyrconnell, or maybe even Connemara peated malt, but that only happened if family brought it in. Usually she had to live with a blend.
“How are you this afternoon, Maggie?”
Maggie turned to see Grace enter the room. She liked Grace because she always plumped her cushions when she talked to her and today was no exception.
“I’m fine dear.”
“Are all your family coming in, Maggie? It’s not every day you turn ninety, after all.”
“Most but not all,” Maggie said with a hint of sadness. “My sister won’t be visiting.”
“Ah – your sister,” Grace said sympathetically. They’d all heard about the sister. Many of the staff thought it meant Maggie’s mind was finally going, but ninety was a good innings so it didn’t raise too much concern. “And how is Lea?”
