Matt Drake Book 9 - The Plagues of Pandora

by David Leadbeater

  “Am I?”

  The tight-suited figure ran straight at the nearest wall, used its surface to rebound off and leap even higher, grabbed a timber spar and hauled himself up. He disappeared through an open skylight.

  Moments later, Drake saw him sprinting across the rounded top of the sky-bridge, jumping through an open window into the tower.

  “I don’t know what the hell to make of that guy.”

  “He has helped us before,” Alicia said dubiously. “Shit.”

  Mai took Drake’s proffered hand. “I didn’t see you all that eager to stop him, Myles.”

  “Oh, right. And where were the legendary Ninja skills when we needed them? Out worrying about something they can’t change?”

  Trent helped Collins to her feet. “Who was that guy?”

  “Beauregard Alain,” Drake said. “Kind of a new nemesis of ours. Truth be told,” he grinned at Dahl, “I don’t believe any of us have landed a real blow on him yet.”

  The mad Swede gave him a big goofy grin. “Time for that, matey. Oh there’s plenty of time for that.”

  “We’re done in here,” Hayden said over the comms. “We have men trying to figure out the tunnels and a way into that tower. You might as well head out.”

  Drake felt as though they’d lost. “Did we just fail?”

  “Don’t be daft!” Dahl pounded him on the back. “We destroyed their hideout. Their Pandora’s Box plan. We killed or jailed three of their members. We even know two of the ones that escaped—Webb and Bell. And most importantly—the plague has been neutralized.”

  “The world is safer,” Hayden said.

  Drake took a long look around. “Only until we find out what’s next.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  Drake walked out of the house, rubbing his aching muscles and kneading the knots out of his back. Tiredness threatened to envelop him like a voluminous shroud. But all around strode his friends, old and new, and their heroism and willingness to lay it all on the line for the people they protected gave him a fresh surge of adrenalin and pride.

  Outside, the cold fresh air cooled his flesh and, for now, eased his worries.

  Aaron Trent held out a hand. “Good to work with you, Drake. I look forward to the next time.”

  “Any time,” Drake said. “And do let me know if you’re ever in the market for a Torsten Dahl.”

  “Ah. We have a code we try to follow in the Razor’s Edge, epitomized by a single word. It’s called finesse.”

  “Hmm. Never mind then.”

  Drake shook hands with Silk and Radford and gave Collins a hug. As he stood there a light rain began to fall and his eyes fell upon Mai Kitano.

  Staring up at the clouds, up at the rain, the Japanese woman had more water on her face than the light drizzle suggested.

  Drake saw the look in her eyes. “It’s over isn’t it?”

  “It has to be. At least for now.”

  “For now? There’ll be no more chances, Mai. I couldn’t bloody take all this again.”

  “Until I can come to terms with what I did,” Mai said. “There is nothing else for me. I hope you understand. I don’t expect you to. But I do hope. There is something I must do.”

  “What?”

  “I do not know. And I don’t know how long it will take. That is why . . . I have to let you go.”

  Drake felt something break loose inside as tears welled in Mai’s eyes. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “And neither do I. The world shapes us and rewards us and recognizes us. It makes us believe that it knows our name. Only then, when we have accepted our place and our importance, does it destroy us. That is life.”

  “I can’t believe in such hopelessness.”

  “I hope that you never have to.”

  Mai turned away from him, her black hair glistening with raindrops, her slim shoulders trembling with what looked like grief. He knew she would make her own way now.

  Lost, alone, his first thought was of his friends. Where the hell was Alicia?

  *

  Alicia waited amid the rubble, a solitary figure covered in dust and fragments of debris. Her hands were bloody, her face bruised, the side of her mouth bleeding. Her long blond hair was scraped back, tied and hidden away beneath a chunky bullet-proof jacket. A half-empty, battered H&K dangled from her right arm.

  Her bright blue eyes watched with extreme vigilance. Every tell-tale sound was analyzed and taken into account. Sounds drifting through the many smashed windows attested to quite a gathering on the lawn below; Drake’s voice and Mai’s, Crouch’s and Russo’s and that of Claire Collins—none of them individually discernible.

  And still he surprised her.

  “Alicia?”

  She turned, half expecting he would sneak up. “That’s the last time you take me from behind, Beauregard. Be normal from now on.”

  The mask was gone so she could see the smile. “The last time? I was hoping it might be the first.”

  Alicia raised both eyebrows. “You sure got a nerve. Come here.”

  Beauregard stepped up close so that only inches separated them. Alicia quickly took out her knife and held the tip at his throat.

  “I want to know the name of your boss.”

  “Is that really what you came here for?”

  “What the hell else would I come here for? I read your message loud and clear—I will not go far from you—I understand you want to get something off your chest. For helping us out, I’ll give you the chance. But only one.”

  “Ah, well then.” The French accent grew stronger, distracting her senses. “I work for King Pythian, as you know. Tyler Webb himself. The pay—it is very good.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then, mon amie, we are at an impasse.”

  “Not exactly.” Alicia brought the knife down, its sharp edge cutting through the top of Beauregard’s tight black suit.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What most girls like me do. I’m taking a look.”

  The knife travelled further down Beauregard’s chest and toward his stomach, parting the thin material as it went.

  “This is all I have, if you cut it off me what shall I wear?”

  “I don’t see where that’s my problem.” She paused with the knife hovering over Beauregard’s navel. “And if this thing turns out to be rolled up socks your leotard’s not the only thing that’s gonna get spliced. Ya hear me?”

  “It’s not a leo— ah!”

  Alicia finished her work and stood back. “Oh, my. You’re happier than you sound then, eh?”

  Beauregard grabbed her shoulder and drew her close, his mouth mashing down on hers. Alicia allowed herself to be entangled, opening her mouth and using her tongue. Her hands crept around Beau’s back, grabbed his behind and forced him toward her.

  “That’s better.”

  Alicia’s jacket hit the floor. Then her boots flew off. More clothes. Lastly, her rifle. Naked, she finally pulled away from the Frenchman. “Not here,” she said. “It’s not right. Good men died here today.”

  Beauregard nodded and led her, carefully, through a concealed entrance into a hidden room. “Webb built several of these. It has many TV screens, feeds from all over. He can interface—”

  Alicia pushed him down onto his back and straddled his top half. “Yeah?” she interrupted. “Interface with this.”

  Beauregard’s reply was unintelligible.

  A while later Alicia moved her ass to the south. “Don’t move a muscle, Beauregard. Any muscle.”

  *

  Much later, after the majority of the authorities were tucked up in bed, the man called Beauregard Alain left the now defunct Pythian HQ. His body ached, and barely any of that came from fighting. Alicia Myles was as demanding a woman as he’d ever imagined. He’d been disappointed to see her go. But it wasn’t a goodbye . . .

  Farewell.

  Until next time.

  Even now, the memory sent thrilling shivers down his
spine. Damn, this is the life! Then that thought sobered him more than a little. Speaking of his life, he must move along. One of the surviving Pythians, General Stone, sat in a high security prison cell somewhere in Washington DC.

  Beauregard had been told to neutralize him. Not by his true boss but by Tyler Webb. It would be hard to refuse the request but his true boss had excellent connections and might be able to fabricate something. A disappearance could be organized.

  And then there was the major discussion they should have—the topic being Tyler Webb, the Pythians and what Beauregard had so far found out.

  He opened his cellphone and dialed a number. The call was answered immediately.

  “Line’s secure. What do you know?”

  “Sit down, Michael. This may take a while.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  It felt good to be sat inside the spacious, bright bar in the heart of DC. Drake sat back and surveyed the scene, finally relaxing now he knew the whole company was safe. Alicia had returned sometime during the afternoon, fresh, clean and smiling. Drake concealed his relief and affection for her and gave her the dead eye.

  “Why the hell are you walking like a cowboy?”

  “Piss off, Drake.” But she smiled and he grinned back.

  Now, the teams were letting their hair down, partying together inside the warm bar as the darkness of night pressed against the lighted windows. Rum and tequila flowed and Collins was up on the dance floor, grabbing every man and woman she could and drawing them into a euphoric, music-filled expression of her love for life. For being happy, because life and happiness can be short-lived.

  Drake sat opposite Dahl, a pint in his hand.

  “To saving the world,” Drake said. “Again.”

  Dahl clinked glasses. Drake took a deep swig of the heavy nectar. Beyond the rim of the glass he watched Mai, sitting at a separate table with Grace. The young girl’s eyes darted eagerly, as if she wanted to jump up and join in the party, but Mai held her back, trying to get some point across.

  Drake had been surprised to see Mai tonight. The Japanese woman had explained that she felt honored to be a part of the great team and would respect their celebration; after all this could be the only time in their lives that these people came together. A sobering thought if ever there was one.

  Drake watched as Collins dragged Hayden and Kinimaka onto the dance floor, joining those already there.

  “So we have to face the fact that somebody gave away our hotel’s location in Niagara Falls,” Drake said. “A mole?”

  “It was a big team,” Dahl said. “With support personnel too. The nurses and doctor. Parts of the FBI and Canadian police. We’re unlikely ever to find out. And Webb—like it or not, the man has power. And deep pockets.”

  “Do you believe the Pythians have suffered a setback?”

  “No. Not at all. I believe they have a number of plans on-running and will end when they choose to. If ever.”

  Hayden came over to them then, a phone pressed to her ear. “Just got word,” she said. “General Stone hung himself. Tonight. In his cell. Bastard won’t ever stand trial for what he did.”

  Alicia sat forward. “And Dudley? He worried me the most.”

  “Still alive. Still in custody. They’re moving him to a black site in the next few days.”

  Drake frowned, wondering if SPEAR should take charge of that operation, and then waved away the work talk. Instead he stared at Dahl. “So? Dropped out of private school, eh? Why did you never mention that?”

  “None of your bloody business. I mean, me? Part of the rich crowd? Belonging to the set who already had a job for me in mind when I was eight? Already feathering my bed and shaping my future? Told what to do and when to speak since I could form words? I don’t think so. That’s chains, man, believe it or not. Besides, would it make you treat me any different?”

  “Don’t be daft.”

  “Thought so.”

  “You’re a good man, Dahl.” Later, Drake would put it down to the beer talking.

  “I know.”

  The music swelled and the drinks flowed. Collins came over and danced by their table, taking them all into a bear hug. The guys from the Razor’s Edge were left grinning in her wake.

  Drake lifted his glass. “To you.”

  Trent nodded. “If you’re ever in LA . . .”

  Silk and Radford dropped down on nearby chairs. “Take the bus!”

  Laughter rang out, and the world was happier, safer and full of camaraderie.

  For a while.

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  Mai Kitano woke in the dead of night, instantly aware, senses seeking outward for what might have disturbed her. Three seconds later her cellphone rang.

  Ah, that was it.

  Dai Hibiki, her old friend from the Tokyo police, spoke quickly, his voice full of weariness and strain.

  “The days treating you well, Mai? The nights? We’ve had major problems with the Yakuza since you humiliated them this latest time.”

  “The last time,” Mai said, sitting up. It took only a moment to remember she no longer slept beside Drake, and that this was a new hotel room. She wore a black tank top and white Lycra shorts in bed and now padded over to the window. With one hand she twitched open a curtain, staring over the benighted city below.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes. I needed space to get whatever I did to that family straight in my head. And now, there is also Grace to consider. Life has changed.”

  “Well, your parents are fine. Chika is fine too. We are . . . happy. I’m guessing that Grace will ultimately go her own way.”

  “Good. So what do you want, Dai?”

  Her friend hesitated. Mai instantly knew the next sentence would be very hard for him.

  “This may only make things worse, but the girl that survived? Emiko? She has been asking about the woman that killed her father. Even in protective custody she is reaching out. I’m scared it will bring her to the attention of the Yakuza. I’m worried she will develop a debilitating hatred.”

  “Do you want me to come over there?”

  “No, no. You shouldn’t be here. I only wanted to make you aware of that and one more thing. You remember Hikaru? The Yakuza boss you kind of humiliated in the men’s room?”

  Mai watched the city breathe below. “I remember him.”

  “He’s a bigger boss now.”

  “Don’t worry. We came to an understanding.”

  “I only wanted to keep you informed.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  Mai ended the call and placed her cell carefully on the narrow window sill. Outside, the city lights twinkled, trees swayed to a stiff breeze, and horns honked. The window itself reflected three extra images—the figures of men.

  She turned slowly. So this was the noise that had awakened her—not three but six men spread out, all Japanese, who had broken into her hotel room in the dead of night. So ironic that Dai had called her at that moment. So stupid of her to accept that his call, three seconds later, had been the cause of her waking.

  Hikaru walked one step forward. “Do not struggle. We know you. We have come for you.”

  “Did we not have a deal?”

  “The Yakuza do not make deals,” he spat. “We do not forgive humiliation. And you are twice guilty. Mai Kitano—come with us now. Do not make this any harder.”

  Five men spread out to his sides. All of them carried silenced handguns. Mai wondered then about the trials she had faced in her life, about the girl that sought her, about that girl’s father whom she had killed for the Tsugarai clan.

  “Have you come to murder me?”

  “That sounds like you want us to.”

  Mai shrugged. “I’m not happy with what I have done.”

  “Oh, I know that. We took care of the man’s family for you. Only the girl escaped. But let us not digress. We’re here for you. Do you want to die now for your sins against the Yakuza? If so, you know what to do.”

  M
ai stared down the barrels of all five guns. Would it be simpler to just let go? She had been fighting ever since she’d been dragged screaming from the loving hands of her parents. So long. So . . . damn . . . long.

  She looked around. “Only six of you?”

  “It will be enough.”

  Time to decide.

  But Hikaru was faster. “Just shoot her where she stands.”

  Mai moved fast. The first bullet nicked her arm. In a blur of motion, she angled toward her enemies.

  The second bullet took her in the stomach and when the pain hit it was like a lightning bolt going off inside. She fell instantly, bleeding out on the hotel room floor. Gasping, gritting her teeth against the terrible pain she nevertheless hunched her body so that she could use her own rapidly draining blood to draw three distinct letters on the worn wooden floor.

  Hikaru stood over her, his own gun now raised. “This is what we do to the people that have wronged us.”

  Smiling, he squeezed the trigger again.

  THE END

  Please read on for some exciting information on the future of the Matt Drake world.

  So the ‘crossover’ novel comes to an end, about a year in the planning and the biggest adventure to date; it opens up this endlessly evolving romp for even bigger things. I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

  Next up, and to be released very soon, will be Matt Drake 10, The Lost Kingdom. I realize cliff-hangers like the one above are not everyone’s favorite way to end a book so I made sure you will only have to wait until May 18th to enjoy Drake’s next adventure. After that it will be Alicia 2.

  As always, e-mails are welcomed and replied to within a few days. If you have any questions or comments just drop me a line.

  Please check my website for all the latest news and updates—www.davidleadbeater.com

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