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The Lost City (Joe Hawke Book 8)

Page 8

by Rob Jones


  “You can say that again,” Scarlet said. “Did you see the way he trounced that goon? I’ve never seen him fight like that before. Normally he’s like a big girl’s blouse but that was approaching half-decent brawling.”

  Lea frowned at her. “You have a real way with words, you know that, Cairo?”

  Scarlet shrugged and lit a cigarette. “I was merely making an observation, darling. No need to be a cow about it.”

  “I’m not being a cow, I just think you should show some respect for the guy and not take the piss all the time.”

  “Sorry – I’m Scarlet Sloane – have we met?”

  Lea rolled her eyes. “Sadly, yes.”

  “We haven’t got time for this,” Lea said. “Where are Lexi and the others?”

  “They went into the other office,” Hawke said.

  They opened the door to see Lexi and Luis both unconscious on the floor and so sign of Balta. “There!” Lea said, leaning out the window. “They’re taking him into the freaking Lollapalooza crowd!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  They brought Lexi and Luis around and then they all sprinted into the crowd, thousands deep, pushing their way slowly toward Kruger and his gang. Rajavi was holding a knife to Balta’s throat and dragging him along the street to the south. The crowd of people walking to the festival was huge, and soon they were well away from the ECHO team.

  They followed them along the Avenida Brasil and then left into the district of Orrantia del Mar, keen not to provoke Kruger into harming Balta out of panic. As Saqqal and Kruger drew further away to the south along the Circuito de Playas, Hawke knew time was running out.

  They speeded up the chase and tried to stay out of sight as they pursued the enemy, but now they were moving further into the actual festival and approaching the main stage. Hawke knew as soon as they had the information about the Mandala from Balta, the professor would be a dead man.

  “Where are they?” Lexi called out.

  “I’m losing them!” said Scarlet.

  Hawke scanned the crowd. “I think they’re breaking up.”

  Lea flicked her head around to check the crowd only to see Saqqal a few yards to Kruger’s left and getting away fast. He had less difficulty smashing partygoers out of his way than she did.

  Foo Fighters were now on the stage, blasting their songs out across the heads of the festival goers who were jumping up and down to the beat and screaming along to the lyrics. Ahead of Lea the colossal speakers were blaring out a bass line she didn’t recognize and one of the guitarists had his foot up on the stage-left monitor while he moshed his head up and down. The crowd were going nuts and were now jumping up and down like they were on pogo sticks.

  In the chaos, she quickly became separated from Hawke and the others, and then she lost sight of the enemy. “I can’t see them, Joe!” she called out.

  “Leave it with me,” he said.

  Hawke craned his neck around for a look and then it came to him. He turned and began to climb over the security fence that divided the crowd from the stage but a second later two large men with shaved heads approached him, palms out. They were wearing bomber jackets and earpieces and he instantly clocked they were security.

  They spoke to him rapidly in Spanish, and he replied in their language, but they weren’t having any of it. They were the classic unmovable object, but unfortunately for them Joe Hawke was the irresistible force. He pulled back his arms and simultaneously sucker punched each of the men in the center of his face, sending them both staggering back toward the stage with broken, bloody noses.

  He didn’t hang about for a second round, and seized the moment he had won by leaping over the fence and using a parkour jump to launch onto the stage, landing downstage center. The bass player took a few steps back and stared at him but the band carried on as more security rushed the stage to drag him off.

  He stared out over the crowd with only seconds to spare. He saw Lea and his friends straight ahead and then he saw Kruger’s hat and behind him Saqqal and the professor flanked by the rebels. They were up near the stage and almost free of the crowd.

  “They’re over there!” he called out, but she couldn’t hear him. He grabbed hold of one of the backing vocals mics and told her once again. She heard him, but so did ten thousand other people, including Kruger, and he responded by firing a warning shot into the air.

  The atmosphere turned on a dime. People reacted fast, ducking their heads and screaming as they tried to move away from where they thought they’d heard the gunshot. The band stopped playing and suddenly there was security crawling everywhere like ants.

  Hawke thought hanging around for the security was a bad idea so he ran along the stage and launched himself into the air. He stage-dived into the heaving throng of people and found himself crowd-surfing for a few moments until he finally clambered away from their grip and joined up with Lea.

  “They’re trying to head backstage,” he said.

  When they turned the corner and moved into the backstage area it was just in time to see Saqqal dragging a roadie out of a Wrangler while Rajavi darted around to the passenger’s door. A luxury travel trailer was attached to the back of the Wrangler by the tow hook and it juddered when Saqqal fired up the Jeep and took off through the backstage area.

  “I’m on it!” Lea said.

  “And me,” Ryan said. “I want that bastard.”

  Hawke watched Lea and Ryan sprinting after the stolen Wrangler while he scanned the area for the others. “Where’s Kruger?” he said.

  “Be fucked if I know,” said Scarlet.

  “Over there!” Reaper said.

  He pointed to the cliffs where Kruger and Corzo were jogging along one of the coast paths. “Looks like they’re heading toward the pier and they’ve still got Balta!”

  “But no sign of Jawad,” Reaper said. “This worries me.”

  *

  While the Jeep was still in the backstage area its speed was heavily restricted by all the other trailers and tents and Lea had time to grab hold of the door on the side of the luxury travel trailer and clamber inside. She held out her hand and helped Ryan and by the time the Wrangler was leaving the area and hitting the road they were both inside.

  “So what now?” Ryan asked.

  “How the hell should I know?” Lea said. “This was a do now, think later scenario.”

  “Well, later is now,” Ryan said, looking out the window. “He’s picking up speed.”

  “Do you think he saw us get in the trailer?”

  At that point the trailer began swinging wildly from one side of the road to the other and they looked through the front window to see Rajavi leaning out the Wrangler’s rear window.

  The trailer skidded across the lane and smashed into a supporting wall on the other side of the road, crunching the side of the trailer. Lea tried the door. “Damn thing’s jammed shut now!”

  Ryan watched Rajavi on the back of the Wrangler. “What the hell is he doing?”

  Lea frowned as Rajavi began unscrewing the cap of the auxiliary gas tank. “I’m not liking this latest development.”

  They were now racing down a cliff road with the South Pacific Ocean on their left-hand side. “We must be doing at least sixty miles per hour now,” Ryan said with a sigh. “Which means we’re going wherever they’re going.”

  “Er, Ry…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think they have that in mind.”

  Ryan turned to see Rajavi heaving the gas tank out of its holder and pouring the contents into a Coke bottle. Then he ripped part of his shirt off and stuffed it inside the bottle before lighting the end of the cloth and throwing it at the trailer.

  Lea screamed. “Shit! A Molotov cocktail!”

  They ran to the back of the trailer as the bottle smashed on the front window and burst into flames.

  Trapped inside the blazing luxury travel trailer, Lea searched for something to put through the window, but all the heavy stuff like chairs and tables were f
ixed into place so she went to the kitchen area and opened one of the drawers, snatching out a frying pan. The sound of the Foo Fighters was still loud in the air and the crowd was singing along as loud as they could as she shielded her eyes and swung the pan at the small window.

  It bounced back hard and heavy, the failed attempt reverberating harshly up her arm. The window was thick Perspex and no travel-size frying pan was going to break it.

  The trailer bounced around violently now, and Lea cupped her hands on the window to see what was going on. They were skidding dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and the flames were spreading all over the trailer.

  “Bugger it sideways!” she said, flinging the pan across the trailer and putting her hands on her hips. She had to think about this.

  The fire grew in strength, and they watched in horror as the flames licked up the sides and over the windows. “It’s going to start getting hot in here,” she said.

  “You think?” Ryan said.

  “What the hell are we going to do?”

  “Get out of here, that’s what.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Hawke, Reaper, Lexi, Scarlet and Luis jogged down the track in pursuit of Kruger, Corzo, Balta and the rebels. They were now running along the Miraflores Pier and heading toward the Rosa Nautica restaurant. Hawke could see dozens of passers-by moving quickly away from the men as they dragged the old professor down the pier at knifepoint, but there were no police in sight. Only they could save Balta now.

  “Come on!” Hawke yelled. “We’ve almost got them.”

  They crossed the Circuito de Playas and hit the pier, sprinting as fast as they could toward the Rosa Nautica. “There they are!”

  Inside the restaurant was a picture of serene calm as diners chinked glasses of wine and enjoyed their meals, but then Joe Hawke arrived and things changed rapidly.

  Kruger and Corzo were making their way toward the kitchen door when they saw the ECHO team, and their response was to pull their guns and fire into the ceiling. The customers created instantly in a burst of screams and panic. Some dived under tables while others bolted for the door.

  Hawke ran toward the kitchen but Carlos Corzo appeared from behind a support pillar and surprised him with a straight-forward shovel hook.

  Hawke stumbled back into a table directly behind and tipped it up, spraying lobster and salad all over the place. The shell from the cracked claws rained down on the head of a woman who was hiding behind a tropical fish tank and she screamed inconsolably as it stuck to her hair and fell down her neck.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Hawke said. “I’m sure the management could probably refund your dinner, at a pinch.”

  Scarlet shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Pay for it yourself and stop being shellfish.”

  “Very good,” Hawke said, but the rest of his reply was cut short when Corzo grabbed him around the collar and yanked him away from the detritus of the collapsed table. The Englishman staggered to his feet and planted a hefty smack on his jaw. He went back and gouged his back against the corner of a table.

  Across the restaurant, Dirk Kruger was walking backward toward the kitchen door while letting rip with an Uzi in his other hand. He sprayed bullets wildly but they all missed their mark. Amateur, Hawke thought. The bullets hit a fire extinguisher and suddenly the room was filled with a thick cloud of CO2. Customers piled all over the place like startled antelopes, but Hawke’s eyes were on the job.

  Kruger raked another line of fire over the busy room, and screamed at Hawke to back off. Reaper leaped forward and punched Kruger from the side, knocking him back through another of the tropical fish tanks and sending him sliding about in the water on the floor. The South African was dazed for a few moments before getting back to his feet and snatching his bag up.

  He grabbed his gun and raked the chaotic restaurant with more bullets before darting away into the cloud of CO2. The ECHO team dived to the floor and Hawke’s mind raced to keep control of the situation. Between the CO2, the gunfire and the dust from the blasted ceiling tiles, the restaurant had become a House of Horrors. He heard Kruger yelling in Afrikaans from the kitchens – presumably trying to locate Corzo.

  The Colombian scrambled to his feet and grabbed Balta. Snatching a knife off one of the tables, he held it to the professor’s throat. “Step back or he dies. Dies!” He pushed the knife into the terrified man’s throat. It was only a butter knife, but Hawke knew it would easily go through the skin with the sort of effort Corzo was prepared to supply and then Balta was a dead man.

  Hawke took a step back and raised his hands to show he was backing off, and Corzo started to drag Balta back toward the kitchen door where they joined Kruger and disappeared.

  Hawke and the others sprinted across the restaurant and into the kitchens where they found themselves looking at several terrified chefs who were hiding behind the industrial ovens. One of them looked at Hawke and raised a trembling hand to point at a swinging door on the far side of the large room.

  They ran to it and sprinted down a corridor. At the end was the fire exit Kruger and Corzo had used to take Balta and flee the restaurant. They scrambled through it and found themselves outside on the pier.

  The merciless Peruvian sun pitched down on him and he raised his hand to shield his eyes but when they had adjusted he realized too late what Kruger’s plan had been.

  Jawad was racing across the water on a motorboat from further up the coast. He pulled up alongside the pier and after forcing Balta into the boat, Kruger and Corzo jumped down into it behind him.

  Kruger gave Hawke a cheery wave as Jawad turned the boat to starboard and opened the throttles. Moments later they were a kilometre up the coast.

  Hawke felt the rage rise. He padded up the pier and tried to slow his breathing. “Damn it! They got Balta!”

  Reaper cleared his throat. “Yes, but we got the mask.”

  “Eh?”

  “I got it when I punched Kruger through the fish tank. He was too shaken up to check his little bag when he took off.”

  “That’s great, Reap,” Hawke said, but still angry. “But if he has Balta then he doesn’t need the mask.”

  *

  Ryan yanked at the table. It was bolted down but when he started booting it the bolts started to loosen. “By the way,” he said, planting another kick on the table. “I’ve decided to pack all this shit in.”

  “What shit?”

  “The aforementioned ECHO shit. I’ve had enough.”

  “You can’t do that, Ry. What else have you got? Think it through.”

  He smashed the table with his boot and this time it came away. “Just watch me.”

  He lifted the table over to the door and began using it as a battering ram to smash at the door. The first ramming didn’t leave a mark.

  “At first I was sceptical, especially about Joe, but then I started to enjoy it.”

  “So? What’s the problem then?”

  “The problem is that after I lost Sophie I nearly quit, and now Maria is gone there’s nothing for me here anymore. I want time alone and then a new life. Not this anymore… All the jetting about and getting shot at. I don’t want it.”

  He rammed the door a second time and buckled it out in the frame. “Thank god for that,” he said, wiping some sweat from his eyes. “This place is like an oven and when the flames reach the cooking gas we’ll be the first people on the moon since 1972.”

  Another smash and the sound of metal bending. Something inside the lock pinged and the door began to give way.

  “At least talk to everyone else about it when we get back to Elysium.”

  He looked at her. “And what’s waiting for me there, except Maria’s grave?”

  She had no words.

  The door popped open and flames instantly licked their way all around the frame and began to climb inside the trailer. “Shield yourself!” he said, taking hold of her arm. “We’re outta here.”

  “Wait a minute,” Lea said, horrified.
<
br />   Ryan looked at her. “What is it?”

  “Rajavi’s disconnecting the sodding trailer!”

  Outside Rajavi had now opened the rear tailgate completely and was disconnecting the trailer from the Wrangler.

  “We’re going over that cliff in about ten seconds,’ Lea said. “It’s now or never!”

  They leaped out the trailer just as it careered over the cliff and a heartbeat later it exploded in a savage fireball, blasting an enormous cloud of detritus and debris all over the road and cliff.

  “Janey Bloody Mac!” Lea yelled as she tumbled over and came to a halt on the grass at the edge of the cliff.

  Ryan came to a halt a few yards away and took a breath. “Turns out we’re not going to the moon just yet.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The area known in Mandarin as Dong Jiaomin Xiang, but to the West as the Beijing Legation Quarter was in the very heart of the enormous, sprawling Chinese capital. It contained many of China’s most famous landmarks and buildings, including the Great Hall of the People, the Mausoleum of Mao Zedong and Tiananmen Square.

  It also contained the headquarters of the Chinese Ministry of State Security.

  The vast building was close to the Forbidden City, but the tourists rarely went south of the Tongzi River, and the building’s purpose was unknown even to most Beijingers. The machinations whirring behind its heavy doors were some of the most secretive on earth, and if the Guojia Anquan Bu, or Guoanbu, didn’t want you to know what they were doing, you didn’t know.

  In an unassuming corner office somewhere in the building’s northeast, a thin man in a boring suit buzzed for his personal assistant and moments later she showed another man into the room. The second man had slicked-back hair and a small scar contracture below his lower lip. He nodded his head respectfully at the man in the boring suit and after being invited to take a seat he lowered himself into the uncomfortable wooden chair opposite the desk.

  “Good morning, sir,” said the man with the scar.

 

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