by Rob Jones
Like the others, Hawke knew their handguns were no match for the two Makarov PP-90s staring them in the face. They lowered their guns to the floor and kicked them over to the Russians.
“Da,” Kozlov said. “Now we make progress. Before I have you drilled with bullets, you will tell me who you are and what you want.”
“We’d like to buy into your Gold Star Membership plan,” Hawke said.
One of the men clubbed him with the stock of the Makarov and he tumbled down to the thick white plush pile.
Lea leaped down to him. “Joe!”
“Last time I ask,” Kozlov drawled. “Who are you and why are you in my home?”
It happened faster than anyone expected. Lea disarmed one of the men holding the Makarov and took hold of his hand, rapidly twisting it sharply in the wrong direction. The brutal rotation of the hand shattered the wrist bones and the goon howled in pain as his wrist hung down from his arm like a dead fish.
“My hand!”
“It’s your balls you should be more worried about.”
He looked at her confused. “Huh?”
The axe kick landed like a cruise missile between his legs. Reaper and Nikolai both winced in pain as they watched him crash to the ground, clutching his most prized possessions and howling like a baby.
The other man with the Makarov took a step back and prepared to fire, but Hawke jumped to his feet and tackled the man back down to the ground. He punched him in the face and stole the Makarov away from him, turning it on the other two goons armed with handguns standing either side of Kozlov.
“Stop them!” the tycoon yelled.
One of Kozlov’s other guards took a step back and raised his gun. He was about to fire his weapon, but fumbled at the last hurdle. It was enough for Nikolai to jump into action, flying through the air like a ninja, arms in a martial arts readiness pose and tough as hardened steel.
As Reaper punched Kozlov back against the bookcase, Nikolai landed in front of the goon and spun around in a three-sixty circle, pivoting on his waist to deliver a taekwondo round kick in the side of his face, which crumpled on impact as his head smashed away with the power of the blow.
The gun spun in the air and landed with a metallic clatter on the asphalt surface of the alley and skidded to a stop behind some trash bins. Facing him now, Nikolai pummelled him with a merciless barrage of hook punches and hammer fists until he gave up the fight and fell to the ground like a sack of rotten potatoes.
Momentarily distracted by the sight of the brawl, Kozlov lowered his guard. Reaper took instant advantage, striking the Russian tycoon on the jaw and knocked him out in one blow. He collapsed to the floor, and Hawke slid the Ring of Ramesses off his finger in half a second. Lifting his palm mic up to his mouth, he spoke rapidly and clearly to the whole team. “We’ve got the ring. Get the car ready, Lex.”
“Incoming, Joe!” Lea cried out.
She pointed into the apartment where at least half a dozen men armed with Makarovs were sprinting toward them.
“Time to leave, I think,” Hawke said. “Care to join me?”
They followed him out into the balcony, where he climbed up over the railing and looked down at the seven hundred-foot drop to the ground. Lea peered over too, and gave an appreciative nod. “I love my job.”
The goons were bursting through into the study. “Hold it right there!”
Hawke made sure the slim BASE jump container on his back was comfortable and in the right place and leaped from the balcony. Lea, Reaper and Nikolai followed him over, instantly tumbling away from the top floor and rapidly approaching the terminal velocity.
The goons fired on them, but they were too far away. Carried off to the east by a strong westerly, they opened their canopies and soon found themselves drifting over the Las Vegas cityscape. To their west, the setting sun turned the glittering boulevards and hotels a warm amber, and at their backs, a very angry Russian mafia tycoon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The sun was well below the horizon when they checked into the Desert Sky Motel in Paradise and tossed their bags onto the carpet. Their room was up on the first floor in the corner of a horseshoe-shaped complex and from their room they had a good view of the city skyline to the north. A modest swimming pool below their balcony reflected the stars but no other lights were lit and there was no sign of life in any of the other rooms.
Hawke peered through the drapes to make sure the coast was clear, and then Ryan opened his bag to reveal Kozlov’s ring. Holding it up to the low light of the flickering TV, his face turned into a wide grin. “That’s five down and three to go.”
“We can do it,” Lexi said.
“Nothing on the news,” Zeke said.
“Not surprising,” Scarlet said. “A man like Kozlov settles his own score.”
Lea’s phone rang. “Rich,” she told the room, and switched to speaker. “Hey.”
“Anything to report?”
“We got the ring from Kozlov,” she said. “But we’re tired. This is just relentless, Rich. I don’t think we’ve ever had to work this hard before.”
“This is great news,” he said, “but there’s no time to relax because I have more news. Since Magnus’s murder, people in high places have been moving heaven and earth to help us, including a member of NESA, the UAE’s internal state security agency.”
“Oh?” Lea said. “I never knew you had any contacts there.”
He shrugged calmly. “I love you like a daughter, Lea, but there’s an awful lot you don’t know about me.”
“What’s the info?” Hawke said, cracking a cold bottle of sparkling water they’d picked up in a gas station on their way out of the city.
“I take it you’ve never heard of a man named Mokrani?”
Blank looks filled the room.
“Exactly as I thought. Known simply as Mr Mokrani, he’s a shadowy figure in the Gulf region, but one of the richest men in the world. A serious player and a bigtime collector of jewellery. According to my source at NESA, a ring matching the description I gave him was sold at an auction not long ago, and it was bought by Mokrani.”
“Does he know anything about it?”
“Hard to know. All my contact can tell me is that after I told him what we were looking for he got in touch with a number of auction houses in the region and one of them came up with the goods. He had no problem getting the name of the successful bidder, but the rest is up to us.”
“Where does this dude hang out?” Zeke asked.
“On a yacht named the Seahorse, usually parked up off the coast of Dubai. There are a number of legal advantages for staying offshore, including tax, or so I’m lead to believe. So that’s why he lives out on it.”
“An easy strike,” Scarlet said, lighting a cigarette as she flicked through endless muted TV channels.
“And there’s more,” Eden continued. “A very old friend of mine has come forward in response to my request for information.” He twisted his lips and everyone could see something was amusing him.
“I’m intrigued,” Scarlet said. “Do go on.”
“His name is Salim al-Hakim, a hustler and small-time smuggler based in Baghdad.”
Lexi smirked. “You do hang around with the nicest people, Rich.”
“Naturally,” he fired back. “I know you, after all.”
A whoop of laughter went up, the loudest being Reaper’s deep belly growl, but things soon got back to business. “As a matter of fact, it turns out Hawke and Cairo share a mutual friend with Salim.”
“And who might that be?”
“Ali al-Majid, from Baghdad, but these days he lives in Mosul.”
Hawke and Scarlet shared an astonished glance. “You are joking, darling?”
“No joke, and Salim tells me this Ali is ready and willing to help.”
“Great!” Hawke said. “That old bastard, Ali… I can’t believe it.”
“But who is he?” Lea asked.
“Someone we met in Iraq during the war,
a thief and a smuggler just like Salim.”
Scarlet laughed “No wonder they know each other. It’ll be good to see him again.”
“There’ll be time for that later,” Eden said. “Getting back to business, Salim put word out among his associates in the criminal fraternity in the city – which is how he collided with Ali – and it didn’t take long for him to get the information he was looking for.”
“So this Ali knows where one of the rings is?” Ryan asked.
“He knows where they both are,” Eden said. “And he knows about Mokrani’s ring too.”
The team erupted in celebration, but Eden quickly poured cold water over the joy. “I said he knows where they are, but we still do not know. If we want to know, he’s prepared to tell us, but for a massive price.”
“That sounds like Ali.” Hawke looked skeptical. “What sort of price?”
“Yeah,” Scarlet said. “What’s he asking for?”
“Turns out your friend Ali drives a hard bargain,” Eden continued. “He wants a million dollars in unmarked US currency.”
“To be fair,” Eden continued. “He said he’d throw in some transport as well as the name.”
“That’s very generous of him,” Lea said.
“Sounds a bit steep to me,” Scarlet said.
“I’ll say,” Ryan threw in. “That’s your make-up budget gone for the next six months…ow, ow, sorry.”
Scarlet’s grip of Ryan’s ear was tight and hard, and when she twisted it around, the young man had no choice but to allow his head to be dragged in the same direction. “What was that, boy?”
“I said your natural beauty is astonishing and you’re so lucky that you don’t require any make-up.”
“Which is exactly what I thought you said.” She released his ear.
“I mean for your significant age,” he said, raising his middle finger and darting out of her reach. “Seriously though, you look all right. A bit of foxing around the edges but you’re good to go in the right lighting conditions.”
“Come here you little sod.”
She jumped over the couch and grabbed at him but Eden cleared his throat and called the meeting back to order. “Can we get back to business, please? We are talking about the end of the world, after all.”
“This time,” Scarlet said with a scowl, “you live, but next time, your arse is mine, Bale.”
“Please,” Lexi said with a devilish grin. “What you two do in your spare time is your own business but don’t pollute our minds with it.”
“A million dollars, though?” Reaper said, breaking up the laughter.
“And that’s not all,” said Eden. “He also wants in on the operation to find the Citadel.”
A murmur of serious discontent moved around the room.
“Absolutely not,” Hawke said. “I know Ali and he’s not trained for this sort of thing.”
Scarlet nodded. “I agree. He’s a thief and a smuggler.”
“So are you,” Zeke said. The rest of the team turned to see him at the back, kicked back on the bed with a beer in his hand. They had almost forgotten the Texan was in the same room with them. Under their accusatory glare, he shrugged and sipped his beer. “Well, you kinda are.”
“We are not thieves,” Eden said.
“You took the idols.”
Nikolai now opened one eye and watched the conversation with interest.
“And?” Lexi said.
“Why aren’t they in a museum some place?”
Eden took a deep, patient breath. “Because if we had given them to a museum, the Oracle would now have them all.”
“This is true,” the Russian monk said. “And to be honest, I am surprised he has not broken into the Bank of England yet to take them for himself. He simply cannot know they are there, or they would be gone already.”
“Quite,” Eden said flatly. “And you now have your marching orders.”
“So it’s Dubai and then Baghdad,” Lea said.
Hawke caught her eye, and they shared a smile. “Time to get back on the road.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kim Taylor and Jack Camacho passed security at the main Entrance Hall and soon found themselves walking through the busy corridors of the world’s most famous residence. As her old friend had said on the way over, now she was here and saw that everything seemed to be normal, Kim started to relax.
“I’m not going to say I told you so,” Camacho said, turning to her with a wide grin on his face. “But I told you so.”
“I think I’ll just wait until I speak with Alex. Then you can tell me so.”
He laughed. “Have it your way. You going to see her now?”
“Sure – you?”
He nodded his head. “W was planning on going to see if Frank but I’ll go later. Apparently, he’s still working on the President’s security detail after all these years. He’s an old friend from the CIA.”
“Frank Trentino?”
“Uh-huh. You know Frank?”
“Not personally, but I’ve heard of him.”
Another laugh. “Hasn’t everyone?”
They continued to walk through the main building on their way to Alex, passing the portraits of a number of former presidents – Lincoln, Roosevelt and Kennedy whose official portrait was unique because he was looking down at the ground and not at the viewer. Kim found it strange to imagine that one day Alex’s father’s portrait would be hanging in this place. Faulkner’s was even harder to imagine.
They skipped up the steps to the second floor of the Residence. She’d been here a few times before and knew her way to Alex’s suite. When she reached the top she saw a familiar face standing outside Alex’s door.
“Kamala?”
The woman standing guard outside the door turned and looked at her with pleasant surprise on her face. “Kimmy, is that you?”
“In the flesh! I had no idea you were working here.” Kim hadn’t seen her old friend for at least two years. She and Kamala Banks had trained at the Secret Service Academy together and had become good friends before Kim’s adventures with ECHO had taken her away from her life in Washington.
“Six months now.”
“That’s great.”
“What are you doing here?”
Kim introduced Jack Camacho and they shook hands. “We know Alex. She’s expecting us.”
Kamala frowned. “No one said anything to me about it.”
Before things got too awkward, the door swung open. “Kim! Jack! Thank God you’re both here.”
Kamala stepped away to let Alex push her chair out into the hallway. “What the hell’s going on, Alex?”
“I asked Kim to come see me, Kami.”
Kamala watched as the three old friends hugged. “Please – come in.”
Kim felt awkward leaving her old friend standing outside on security detail while they went into the room to talk with Alex, but that was her job. She said goodbye and closed the door as Alex wheeled herself back across the room and parked up beside her desk. “Thanks for coming, guys. I think shit’s about to get real around here.”
Kim looked at her and almost felt sorry for her. For the first time ever, she realized she was starting to doubt her friend’s mind. Everyone knew Alex was a genius. Her mind was capable of thinking at speeds and across a breadth of subjects that would make most people’s heads spin, but maybe she had finally reached her limit.
“Listen, Alex.” Kim lowered her voice. “Things seem okay around here. No problems at security and Kamala was pretty chilled out too.”
“You know her?”
“We go way back.”
“She’s nice.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Scary, but nice.”
Kim laughed. “No one ever messed with her, that’s for damned sure. You’re safe with her outside your door.”
Alex sighed. “I’m not so sure.”
Camacho said, “Where’s this coming from?”
“Wait a second.” Alex pick
ed up her cell phone and made a quick call. “They’re here. We’ll wait for you.”
Kim furrowed her brow. “Who was that?”
“An old friend.”
“You’re starting to scare me, Alex.”
Kamala opened the door and Brandon McGee walked into the room. He thanked Kamala as she closed the door behind him.
“Hey Alex,” Brandon said.
“Hey Brandon, This is Kim and Jack.”
They made their introductions, and then Brandon said, “You’re sure we can trust them?”
“I’ve trusted them a lot longer than I’ve trusted you.”
Brandon weighed the no-nonsense response. “Fine. In that case, let’s get down to business. I have it from an old friend of mine who works on the VP’s security detail that he’s planning some sort of attack on the President.”
“Alex already told me that,” Kim said. “That’s why me and Jack Camacho flew straight back to the States, but from what I can see nothing’s going down around here at all.”
Brandon gave a heavy, weary sigh. “Suzie isn’t sure when it’s going down, Kim. All she knows is that its happening and we have no way of knowing who’s on whose side. Things could get very ugly very fast. That’s why we needed you to be here. We need people we know we can trust. People who are above the VP’s reach.”
Kim’s mind flooded with questions. “What sort of attack are you talking about?”
“Not military,” Alex said.
“No, no military,” Brandon repeated. “Suzie said it’s a political attack.”
“You mean a coup?”
“Not exactly,” Alex said. “We think maybe they’re trying to get the cabinet to invoke the Twenty-Fifth Amendment.”
Kim was shocked. “You can’t be serious?”
Brandon fixed eyes on her. “Look at our faces, Kim.”
Kim almost felt giddy. “Holy crap, this is big.”
“You can say that again,” Camacho said.
“And we have no idea how things are going to go down,” Brandon added. “If the VP goes ahead with this and strikes against the President, it could spin out of control in about a million different ways. There’s a real chance people could get killed if this gets out of hand.”
