Smyth was dangerously close to breaking the door down. Drake dragged them both away and back behind the two-way mirror. “Give Hayden a chance, guys.”
Hayden took a moment to reveal to the general the severity of his situation, citing first Lauren and her revelations and then the Nicholas Bell sightings and several intelligence leaks including one where Washington DC came under attack by a drone, involving access codes which were stolen from Stone’s office. Even the general’s face melted a little at the charges being leveled against him.
“You think I’m a member of the Pythians? Are you insane?”
This time the bluster was gone, replaced by a lackluster rhetoric. Hayden slammed a clenched fist on the table, making its legs bounce. “None of that matters! Callan Dudley is in the wind with two mass-casualty aerosolized weapons. I’m not sure yet if we’re classing them as WMDs but do you really want that on your fucking résumé too?”
“You think I’m crazy,” Stone said quietly. “A monster of circumstance. But I see what happens in our government, I see the corruption and the games that are played, and I see the need for a higher authority. That’s what the Pythians will give you. Real leadership. Not power plays and six-figure bribes and intimidation. You will know where you stand with the Pythians.”
“Where has Callan Dudley taken the aerosols?”
“We are the Pythians,” Stone said. “We are everywhere and we will start a very real war. Through China and Taiwan we will find the lost kingdom. Then to the pirate galleons of America. And Saint Germain—the most important, shocking and amazing discoveries of our . . .”
“Shit, I wish we had chance to squeeze him for everything.” Drake saw how this was going. “But right now—” he looked at Smyth and paged Hayden.
“Time to send in the dogs?”
“Last chance, General.” Hayden said. “Speak freely whilst you still can.”
“You think we don’t know you? Ever since London the Pythians have been working you through their intelligence network. And it’s exhaustive, believe me. Text. Pictures. Video. Hayden Jaye, once liaison to the now very dead Secretary of Defense, Gates. Father—dead. Boyfriends—who knows how many, but at least one is dead. How many, Jaye? Pretty piece of ass like you—I bet those thighs have seen plenty of two-way traffic—”
Now it was Kinimaka who reached for the door, but he needn’t have bothered. Hayden was professional enough to keep her cool under such weak taunting, but chose this moment not to.
“I realize from surveillance of our own that if I try to bust your balls, General, you’re actually gonna enjoy it. So I’ll stay clear of that area. Instead—”
She delivered a fast strike to his face, breaking his nose at the bridge. When his hands came up in reaction she looped the chain of his handcuffs around his neck and pulled. Drake kept an eye on her face, impressed with the composure he saw there.
“She’s almost there,” he said to the big Hawaiian. “Give her a sec, matey.”
Hayden tightened the makeshift noose until the general could barely breathe. “All right, motherfucker,” she whispered into his ear. “This is now one very real world, where lonely, persecuted and misunderstood government agents use any and all means to save the men, women and children of their country and preserve their way of life. Even if some of those men, women and children protest that they don’t want or need this kind of help. Do you think they’d change their mind if a terrorist cell entered their kids’ school or the shopping mall? The airport or train station they commute from? How quickly past atrocities are forgotten.”
Hayden squeezed as she spoke, finally relenting and allowing Stone a little room to talk. The general struggled in her grip to no avail.
“Love . . . loving the sexual asphyxiation technique. Your hot breath. Your hands on my neck—”
Hayden wrenched the chains once again, catching some of Stone’s hanging folds of skin between them and earning a yelp. This time the general’s face was turning purple before she let go.
“I can keep it up all night,” she breathed close to his ear. “Can you?”
Smyth turned to Kinimaka with characteristic belligerence. “Shit, your girlfriend’s hot.”
Stone’s gasping filled the room. “Bitch, damn bitch. You’ll get nothing from me.”
Alicia stepped up. “I think it’s time your, um, ‘off-the-books’ associates sorted this out. We were never here, right?”
Drake was about to agree when Hayden thrust her gun into the general’s mouth. Unable to gulp air he began to breathe through his nose.
Until Hayden pinched his nostrils shut.
Stone kicked at the table and threw his head from side to side. Hayden clamped his body down. Still close to his ear she whispered once more.
“Ready to talk, General?”
Stone slapped his hands on the table, the freak inside possibly even excited by the pain. In the end Hayden’s determination chipped away all his resolve.
“Callan Dudley,” he said when she removed the gun, “left Greece with two boxes. Small aerosols. Once he reaches the second facility he will be able to incorporate them into anything we want. A mid-air bomb. A direct rocket. Street-level aerosols. Shit, we can even replicate a Typhoid Mary.”
Drake’s heart fell. Second facility. Oh no . . .
“Where?” Hayden pressed.
“At the Canadian north.” Stone gave her a location. “Hudson Bay.”
Hayden stepped back. “You mean the mountain? The ski resort?”
Stone flashed her an evil grin. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Hayden’s lips tightened. “You lying bastard.”
“Try Manitoba,” Stone said. “You might even be safe there.”
“And all the innocent people you’re about to kill. What about them?”
Stone shrugged emotionlessly. “In any war there are unintended casualties. Just ask your new Secretary of Defense.”
Drake narrowed his eyes as Hayden ignored the odd jibe. “But this is a war of your own making.”
“Every new world order must first make its mark,” Stone said coolly. “True respect only comes with a well-measured mix of fear and pain.”
Hayden shook her head and turned to the window. “That’s not respect, you asshole,” she murmured. “It’s hatred.”
Hayden used the gun and pushed harder. She pushed until tears ran down Stone’s cheeks. But in the short term, they had nothing that could break him further. The man turned into a gibbering idiot, but always there was that smug, aloof light of superiority in his eyes.
“We’ll get no more from him.” Hayden walked back into the outer office. “Whatever else he is, he’s US military, trained to withstand pressure at the highest level. If I’m being honest I believe he thinks the Pythians will come for him. Save him. What do we have?”
Drake nodded toward a computer screen where the inimitable Alicia Myles had already clicked onto a Superdry website to best illustrate the style of clothes she’d prefer to be wearing when they crashed the Canadian pole.
“So we’re nowhere with Lauren’s cure?” Smyth rasped. “Dudley’s capture? Give me a crack at that piece of—”
“Have you heard from Lauren’s doctors?” Hayden interrupted.
Dahl nodded. “She’s deteriorating quickly.”
“Just as important for Lauren,” Smyth said. “Is there any more news on this new version of the plague?”
“Only that it’s derived from a concoction of old diseases. They say that the virus dies quickly when buried, right? Well, what if sometimes they’re wrong? Check out these scientific absolutes we found. I quote, ‘the degree of preservation of a cadaver cannot be predicted by the type of coffin used or the location of the internment. Completely preserved bodies have been found in both wooden and lead coffins. Some contain dry bones but others occasionally contain a viscous black liquid, known as coffin liquor. This can include soft tissues’. You following me so far? Now ‘regardless of age soft tissue is recognized as a potent
ial hazard. If present, expert medical advice should be obtained from the CDDC before proceeding’. This is particularly important with well-preserved bodies. My guess, the Pythians found the best preserved old gravesites in the world.”
Alicia leaned her head against the glass window. “Y’know, guys. Moving on, Stone could be right. Remember when we had Beauregard in custody and then his . . . whoops I mean the slippery snake turned up in Paris? The Pythians won’t let Stone rot.”
Drake stared at her. “So you’re saying we should let Stone escape? And then what? Follow him? Don’t be bloody daft.”
“Do you have a better idea? Or are you too busy falling over every time you get shot?”
“Piss off, Myles.”
“Seriously,” Kinimaka said. “Every second we stand here means the aerosols, Dudley and the Pythians get further away.”
“I’ll do this.” Dahl flexed his arms and fingers. “We have to be well above an executive rationale now. Stone will break . . . one way or the other.”
Hayden put a hand on his arm. “Let me call Secretary Price first.”
“Call him while I’m working.” Dahl opened the door.
“Shit.”
Drake was about to remind the room of Stone’s reference to Secretary Price when the opening chords of Foreigner’s Hot Blooded shook the room. Smyth fished his cell out of a pocket. “What the—”
Drake frowned at the shock on Smyth’s face. Hayden paused in mid-dial. Even Dahl halted for a second.
Smyth answered the phone. “Lauren?”
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Smyth jabbed at the handset, putting the call on speaker.
Lauren’s voice was frail, faint. Drake felt spears of empathy and rage pierce his heart as she spoke.
“How are you talking in your condition? Which asshole made you call me? Tell me his name. I’ll—” Smyth’s ire waned when Hayden jabbed his ribs.
“Shut the fuck up. She’s trying to tell us something!”
Lauren coughed and wheezed. Eventually her voice came again, weaker this time. “Remember the calls I made? Before . . .” More coughing.
Drake thought back to the beginning of this mission. Lauren had been their way in to the Pythians and the only reason they were so close to stopping Pandora’s Box. She had paid for that bravery by getting a face-full of plague. But he couldn’t remember any calls . . .
“I do,” Smyth said in the most subdued voice Drake had ever heard the man produce. “I was sitting beside you at the time.”
Karin snapped her fingers. “Yes. You called the escort network on the assumption that both Stone and Bell, being what they are, would have used their services elsewhere.”
“We are a tight-knit group. We . . . we have . . . to be.”
“You watch each other’s backs,” Smyth said. “I get that.”
“They came back to me. And yes . . . Stone and Bell they—” Lauren’s voice broke as a series of wracking spasms shook her body. Drake heard either an intern or a nurse begging the woman to sit down, to hang up the phone, to rest, but Lauren croaked at her to be quiet.
Both respect and sadness swelled inside him at the same time. Lauren Fox didn’t have long to live but here she was, still fighting for the team and the world at large.
“You guys still there? I have . . . have a little cough.”
Hayden smiled with a mixture of severity and sorrow. “We’re right here, Lauren.”
“Both of them . . . Stone and Bell . . . separately and together have ordered ladies in the city of Niagara Falls. Canada side.”
Drake felt a jolt of electricity. “Recently?”
“Over a couple of months.”
“What a fucking network!” Smyth cried. “What a brilliant network! Are you sure?”
“They keep very detailed records of high rollers.”
“So what are we waiting for?” Drake was surprised to hear Mai’s voice, strong and sure. “Let’s go get the aerosols and wipe these goddamn Pythians off the map in one go.”
Now he understood, or thought he did. She was anxious for this mission to be over so she could pursue the Grace angle. The best quality he could glean from that was her upstanding faith that everything would end well.
“Let’s go save Lauren too,” he said. “And bring an antidote back to her.”
“Fuck that,” Smyth said. “We’re taking her with us. I’ll carry her all the way if I have to.”
Nobody questioned him. Nobody thought about gloating in Stone’s face. No time was lost. The two teams, SPEAR and Gold, were professionals to the end and prepared to move out.
“You might want to call the Razor’s Edge guys,” Drake said to Kinimaka. “They deserve to be in on the end of this. And the help sure won’t go amiss.”
The big Hawaiian nodded and tapped his phone. Hayden was already talking to Secretary Price in an effort to smooth their entry as Crouch informed Armand Argento at Interpol. Drake knew why. Despite Argento’s distance it was sometimes crucial what such deeply rooted agencies could accomplish.
Alicia looked around at all the activity and gave Drake a mixed smile. “God help Niagara Falls.”
“It’s what we’re trained for.”
“Yeah, I know. But with all our firepower and their army we’re gonna destroy the place.”
“We’ll find a way, Alicia. We always do. In any case won’t you be mega-happy we’re moving on? Maybe you’ll even get to see Beauregard again.”
Alicia’s expected witticism didn’t come. Instead she eyed Drake very closely. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”
Drake effected an idiotic grin. “After all we’ve been through together why would I suddenly feel jealous?”
“Dunno. Maybe because I’m me and you’re human?”
“Bollocks. You got me.”
“It sure looks that way.” Alicia flounced off, a satisfied smile on her face.
Drake turned a little wearily toward Mai. The Japanese woman sent him a troubled grimace but made no move to come over. In the end it was Dahl who appeared at his left elbow.
“Quite a team, huh?”
Drake stared around at the bustle of activity. Hayden and Kinimaka on their cells, gaining ground with every word; Karin and Komodo, Yorgi and Smyth trying to ward off their anxieties about Lauren and the aerosols by familiarizing themselves with Niagara Falls; Crouch’s team joining in. A jet was ordered to be made ready in a few hours, weapons prearranged, authorities battled with. The problem was, no matter the severity of the threat or the reputation of the team involved, there was always at least one man in authority looking to make a name for himself.
Drake nodded slowly. “It sure is, my friend. I can’t think of a better one I’d rather be going into battle with.”
“Aerosols. Antidote. Pythians. Dudley.” Dahl ticked the boxes with his fingers. “In that order.”
“And then that pint?” Drake stared into the middle-distance.
“Sure. We’ll set the world to rights.”
“Someone needs to.”
“Correct. The way it’s going our children or our children’s children are heading for . . .” He tailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “Y’know, Drake. There’s one thing people never tell you about having kids. One thing you can never truly understand until you’re a parent. You never stop worrying. Not for a second.”
“They’ll be fine, mate.”
“Oh, I can sure tell you’re not a parent, Drake. I don’t simply mean worrying now. Or next week or over the next few years. I mean ever. With such evil in the world, I even worry that my daughters will experience some terrible anguish over their sons or daughters.”
Drake looked into the bigger picture, the unending unease. It only reminded him that Alyson had died with their unborn child still growing inside her.
“Some people would still like to have the chance,” he said softly.
Dahl flinched a little, as if realizing what he’d said. For a second both men stared at nothing, shoul
ders together, soldiers together, envisaging all that they fought for.
Then Drake turned away. “C’mon dickhead, let’s go grab some guns and maybe a bacon sarni.”
Dahl shoved Drake in the back. “Typical Yorkshireman. Always thinking about food. No doubt they sell fish and chips wrapped in newspaper in Niagara Falls.”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much of Niagara Falls is gonna be left after we’re done taking down the Pythians.”
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
A monumental meeting took place inside the first floor conference room of the Maple Lake hotel, based on Dunn Street, Niagara Falls, behind the lofty Tower Hotel. This little place, with its C-shaped design, attention to cleanliness and detail, and adjacent wedding chapel, was massively overlooked and overshadowed by the towering award-winning hotel that stood over five hundred feet above the Niagara gorge and provided restaurant and room views of the stunning cascade. For that reason it was the perfect meeting place for three of the most capable, deadly and determined teams in the world.
Drake had never seen so many dangerous people in one room before. These men and women fought for peace, for a way of life they believed in, often without recognition or thanks. They were true heroes, and here they were about to put everything on the line once again.
He stood at the back, near the buffet table, sipping water and working through a plateful of nibbles. Mingling with his own team was Alicia’s new crew, who were actually Crouch’s unit. Damn, that’s gonna get confusing. It was easy to picture them as Alicia’s team because the woman was a pure force of nature. If she followed it was simply because the person leading was heading in the same direction that she was. Crouch, he guessed, was the one of the only bosses she would trust completely.
Russo seemed solid, a man he could accept. Both Healey and Caitlyn were young but dedicated and bright. They mingled well with the SPEAR team. The newcomers from California were an odd bunch, older than Drake had imagined, and somewhat of a misfit. Trent, their undeclared boss, was a grim-faced individual, slow to smile but with drive and purpose fuelling his every move. The concentration level with this man was huge and, to some, probably quite intimidating. Still, when he did occasionally direct a smile toward the woman in their group it was deep and genuine.
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