The Matt Drake Series Books: 7-9 (The Matt Drake Series Boxset 2)

by David Leadbeater

  Kinimaka took the gun and fixed her hand around it. A smile lit her eyes, and Kinimaka winked. “Always happier with a gun in her hands.”

  Smyth took off again, now pounding up the steps. He didn’t stop until he reached the top floor, then held the door open for the rest. “Roof access is at the end of the corridor,” he said. “We’ll have to break down the door.”

  “Not a problem.” Komodo led the way now, still with Karin at his side. As the team moved into the corridor, they heard the sound of feet battering the stairs below. The attack team was minutes behind.

  A shot fired up the stairwell, impacting with the wall. Smyth let the door close behind and searched for a way to block it.

  “Forget it,” Komodo called. “Won’t last more’n a few seconds anyway. We need to get to the roof.”

  The broad soldier looked nothing like the mild-mannered, clean-speaking, easy-going chef that Kinimaka had grown used to back at the HQ these last few days. Instead, the new image had been sloughed like an old skin, leaving the raw, hard-hitting ex-Delta soldier to take the reins. Komodo hit the stair-access door hard with his shoulder and watched it splinter, then kicked it off its hinges.

  “Up.”

  He urged Karin inside, then the others. Smyth passed him last as the stairwell door flew open. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Shit.” Komodo ducked back in. The team climbed one more stair switchback, then pushed open a final door that led out into the night. Kinimaka pushed it wide with his shoulder, already studying the roof area. The first thing he saw were the bare tops of scaffolding poles sticking up above the rear of the building.

  Komodo slammed the door shut behind them. “We have two minutes at most.”

  “No cover,” Smyth took it all in. “Damn. What’s that?” He sprinted past Kinimaka and reached the edge of the roof first. “Scaffolding goes all the way to the ground,” he said, peering over. “But I don’t see a ladder. Can you jump with that load, big man?”

  Kinimaka pursed his lips. “Can’t guarantee the landing. It’s risky. The whole scaffold could collapse under my weight.”

  “Staying here is riskier.”

  “About a minute,” Komodo warned as he took aim on the access door. “Make a decision.”

  “Crap.” Kinimaka wrapped his arms tighter around Hayden’s body and walked to the edge. “I’ll protect you as best I can.” He glanced into her eyes.

  The smile told him she already knew and drove another spike through his heart.

  “Ready?”

  “Wait!” Karin’s piercing cry froze them all. She was standing at the roof’s edge, toward the side, overlooking the adjacent building. “This would work better.”

  Kinimaka was glad to hear her voice again. He’d been scared one of their most essential team members would collapse into shattered little pieces and never let herself be put back together again. But she was made of sterner stuff, this Englishwoman, and had dwelled deep in grief before.

  The harshest lesson to learn was also the simplest one—sink or swim.

  Karin told them her plan. Within seconds, Smyth had rushed off and jumped down onto the scaffold to grab hold of one of the scaffolding planks. With Komodo’s help he managed to heave and haul it onto the roof. Together, they laid it across the gap between both buildings, forming a makeshift, unsteady bridge.

  Then bodies hit the inside of the access door, each blow accompanied by shouts.

  “Crap.” Smyth raced across the bridge, arms out, swaying as he ran and adjusting to the warped wobble of the long, rough plank. As soon as he was over he took cover, lining up the access door with his rifle and calling the next person across.

  Kinimaka stepped up. The black night above him was no more than a reflection of the yawning abyss below, and a sharp crosswind gusted past his bulk. He fixed his concentration on the two-foot-wide plank of wood that rested unevenly before him, but countless overriding factors tore at his concentration. Questions made a pincushion of his mind.

  A stiff gust buffeted his body, sending him off balance. His heart juddered. The access door crashed open and Komodo opened fire. Kinimaka almost turned and unslung his weapon, but then the quietest of sounds broke through his turmoil, a sweet whisper on the wind.

  “Mano, it’s okay. Whatever happens, I love you.”

  Kinimaka looked down at her. “I will always protect you.”

  “I know.” Hayden’s eyes closed, sending daggers through his heart. The Hawaiian stepped up and walked resolutely across the shifting plank. When its unsymmetrical base rolled to the left he saw it coming; and, concentrating hard, when it shifted suddenly to the right he shifted with it. When the wind slammed him halfway across, as he knew it would, he leaned in and kept moving. Before long, he stepped off the other end and laid Hayden carefully down onto the hard ground.

  “We made it.”

  No answer.

  A bullet whizzed past his head. Kinimaka barely noticed, but quickly took Smyth’s testy advice and ducked.

  “Hay?”

  Her lips moved. “I’m okay. Just . . . resting.”

  Kinimaka breathed a heavy sigh and took the opportunity to ease out the muscles of his arms. He might not get another chance for a while.

  “They need your help,” Smyth hissed through the corner of his mouth. Kinimaka turned. Komodo was kneeling, firing steadily at the steel door, its surface already peppered with holes. Two attackers lay half-in half-out the door, weapons discarded, unmoving. Blood had splashed the rusty frames. Karin had taken cover behind the big man’s back, two feet behind, and was aiming her revolver around the side of his head.

  Kinimaka sucked in a breath. Shit, he thought. They’re confident.

  “Gotcha covered!” he yelled, and Komodo waved a hand, ordering Karin away. The young woman shouted back at him, clearly agitated, and Komodo immediately began to edge away with her. Kinimaka spotted a man’s head sneaking around the far doorframe and fired a couple of rounds to keep him at bay. They were lucky the access was small and impossible to protect, but he had no doubt that pretty soon the freak of an albino would come up with some kind of gnarly plan.

  Karin balanced on the scaffold plank and fairly skipped across. Komodo jumped on straight after, and then the night exploded. The little access door bloomed outward, chased by shrapnel and fire. Its surrounds shattered under the detonation, spinning and skimming off into the night. Komodo paused before he negotiated the plank, unsure what would come next.

  But Smyth knew. “Run!” he cried.

  Too late. The enemy swarmed up through the widened gap, firing as they came. Smyth and Kinimaka ducked beneath the brick parapet as bullets thudded all around them. Karin remained kneeling, shooting hard, hitting one man’s arm and sending his gun soaring, kneecapping another and sending him down hard. Komodo charged across the plank, at the last minute leaping for the edge of the other building as the deformed wood rolled. His hands caught the edge, scrabbling for purchase. Bullets struck brick all around and between his flailing legs.

  “Fuck me!”

  Smyth and Kinimaka popped up and laid down covering fire. Komodo heaved his bulk up over the edge, landing hard. Once safe, the team wasted no time in retreat, first upending the scaffolding plank and letting it fall to the ground far below.

  Kinimaka, staying low, scanned the roof. “I hate to say it, but this roof ain’t any better than the one we just almost died on.”

  “Sure it is.” Smyth crawled past him at speed. “The bad guys aren’t on it.”

  Kinimaka scooped up Hayden’s body, feeling the shallow breaths she was taking vibrate up his arms, and scrambled after Smyth. Komodo and Karin thwarted their assailants by discharging a measured, slow and steady stream of bullets.

  Kinimaka reached the far end of the roof. More scaffold poles poked up over the edge and, beyond them, a bright yellow crane. When Smyth glanced over the parapet he gave out a loud cheer.

  “There’s a ladder. Double wide, so even you should fit,
big man.”

  Kinimaka stared at him. It was clear that, if they survived tonight, the ex-Delta soldier and he were going to have to talk. Hawaiian hula girls and surfer chicks had previously gotten away with calling him ‘big man’. Dudes did not.

  This time Smyth motioned Karin and Komodo to go first. Without pause they jumped down onto the scaffolding, feeling the whole structure rock, and headed for the ladder. Kinimaka went next, securing Hayden tightly and with great care, then leaping and landing on two feet. The planks groaned under his weight, the metal poles whining under the pressure, but the construction held.

  “No fuckin’ about,” Smyth yelled. “They’re coming across now!”

  He picked off the first few as they laid a fresh plank, but the hail of covering fire he withstood soon sent him scrambling over the edge of the building. Nevertheless he tarried, still firing, mindful that their attackers carried grenades and could quite easily and happily blow the scaffolding apart before the team reached the bottom.

  The sound of Komodo’s clattering came to an end, then Karin’s. Kinimaka was understandably slower. Smyth fired a last volley as the enemy leapt onto the roof, then turned and sprinted for the ladder. It was wide, with platforms at every level, and switch-backed, so provided a decent amount of protection. Smyth saw Kinimaka’s bulk hammering at the stairs far below, then a shout came from above.

  “Say hi to your little friend!”

  Smyth glanced up through the gaps. Faster than him, quicker than even the Special Forces man could calculate, the vicious albino had raced to the parapet and now perched there like some nightmarish gargoyle.

  In one hand he held a pineapple-shaped grenade.

  Smyth put his head down and ran hard. In less than a second, he heard the clatter as the metal object hit wooden planks and knew he had no chance of outrunning the explosion. No chance at all. But he had managed to cover his team’s escape.

  In that last second he ran faster than ever before.

  The grenade exploded with an ear-splitting clap of thunder, sending out a supercharged blast of fire and energy. Part of the brick wall of the building crumbled inward. The scaffolding all around was blown away, poles and planks shooting like arrows into the darkness, causing the whole structure to collapse.

  Smyth felt the entire configuration shifting beneath his feet, swaying away from the wall and crumbling into oblivion. He flew, fleet of foot, with a fire at his heels.

  One more second . . . one more step . . .

  The scaffold collapsed in on itself with a clang and a roar. The albino’s cackle sounded above it all. Smyth took one more step, then launched his body away from the disintegrating structure and out into empty space.

  Sheer blackness and a drop of almost thirty meters lay directly below him.

  He hit the bright-yellow crane hard. His forehead smashed into an upright, making him see stars, but his hands found purchase on a cross support, arresting his fall. Smyth stared up, meeting the shocked eyes of the albino.

  “Mother—”

  The rest was lost as the albino opened fire. Smyth placed his feet to either side of the stanchion he was clutching and let himself freefall, using his thickly-clothed arms and legs to control the descent.

  He landed hard, crumpling and groaning, thankful that at least he had landed on grass and not the concrete.

  Komodo held out a hand, looking impressed. “Nicely done. Thought you were a goner.”

  Smyth managed a rare grin. “Yeah. I bet even Mai Kitano couldn’t have pulled that off.”

  Komodo led him away at a jog. “Mai? Are you kidding? She’d have caught the grenade in her teeth and spat it right back into the bastard’s face.”

  Smyth acceded gracefully. “Good point.”

  “I mean, crap,” Komodo went on. “Torsten Dahl would probably have just chewed it up and spit it out. This ain’t Delta anymore, Smyth. These fuckers are the meanest, most expensively trained fighting machines on earth. They ain’t normal warriors.”

  “I get it, I get it,” Smyth grumped. “Where the hell are we going?”

  “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Kinimaka ducked his head and shoulders as low across Hayden’s body as he dared. Any lower and he would lose his balance and go sprawling. Smyth and Komodo were ahead, tearing across the parking area toward an old but still sleek black Camaro.

  “No!” Karin hissed from behind. “We won’t all fit in the bloody thing.” She shook her head. “Men.”

  Smyth veered to the door of an old Suburban. They were certain the albino would have left men stationed down here and were expecting resistance at any minute. Sure enough, as Smyth smashed a side window and gave their position away, several heads popped up no less than a hundred yards distant.

  “Got ‘em!”

  The radio went flying as the man broke cover, compelled by urgent orders. Smyth jumped into the Suburban and fiddled with the ignition wires. As he fought to twist the engine into life, rounds smacked into the Suburban’s bodywork. Kinimaka jerked open the rear door, lifting Hayden. At that precise moment, a heavy volley struck the car, smashing windows and shattering plastic, tearing through upholstery and cloth. Kinimaka could neither duck nor turn away. He managed to drop his arms, laying Hayden down, and then Karin and Komodo returned fire, shredding the enemy.

  Smyth twisted the wires once more. The engine roared to life. Karin jumped in, then Komodo, lying flat out on the back seat. Kinimaka climbed into the footwell, letting Hayden have the seat, and found his body wedged there. It was all he could do to bring an arm up to wipe the sweat from his face.

  Smyth peeled out of the lot, cheering and giving the enemy the finger through the rear view. Karin and Komodo heaved sighs of relief, then the young woman’s face collapsed into grief as, again, thoughts of Ben and her parents flooded back. Kinimaka looked at the back of his hand and wondered where the blood had come from.

  He tapped his head. Nothing hurt. That could mean only one thing . . .

  Smyth threw the Suburban around a corner. “Where to?”

  “CIA safe house,” Komodo said. “One of our old ones. One of SPEAR’s old ones, I mean.”

  Carefully, Kinimaka rolled Hayden on to her side.

  “No. Oh no.”

  Blood stained the seat. Fresh blood.

  “Got an address?” Smyth was concentrating on the road ahead.

  “Yeah, hang on.”

  Kinimaka pulled Hayden’s shirt up. The bullet wound was still bandaged, untouched. So where . . .

  Hayden’s eyes fluttered open. Kinimaka nodded at the bandage. “Does it hurt?”

  “Nah. It doesn’t hurt at all. It went straight through Boudreau’s old knife wound.” Her eyes smiled.

  Kinimaka sighed with relief. “Then what—”

  Hayden coughed harshly. “It’s the new one just under my heart that’s killing me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Mai Kitano walked away from Tokyo Bay, drifted for a short while, then ducked into a quiet alley. She dug out her phone and noted that Hibiki had called. What now? Her heart wanted to return the call, to make sure both he and Chika were safe, but her head told her that they should both be kept out of this, well away, and that contacting them would do no good. She couldn’t help them at the moment.

  There was nothing from Drake, and she failed to quell a pang of worry. It would only take her a second to log on to a network and scan the news channels, but even that small luxury was forbidden. In her heart the road was clear. The way forward went in only one direction.

  She was theirs. She belonged to the Clan. Her parents were being kept under lock and key. These factors could not be avoided and needed to be addressed directly before she would allow herself to dream of a future.

  Mai hit the return call icon next to Gyuki’s phone number.

  “Yes?” the flat voice instantly answered.

  “It is done. I have completed your work.”

  �
�Of course you have. We already know. Where have you been for the last twenty four minutes?”

  Mai shuddered at the expectant tone. This man truly believed he owned her. “Getting lost. Making sure I was not seen nor followed.”

  “You have let your standards slip so far, Mai Kitano? These issues are not a concern if the job is prepared for and executed in the approved manner.”

  “Time was not on my side.”

  There was a long pause, then Gyuki said, “We gave you no time constraint.”

  “Hayami was there. Alone. Sometimes a job is best done on the first pass to ensure your face does not become familiar to the area. And you have my parents.”

  “Ah. You do not trust us.”

  Mai resisted an urge to reply in the manner of Alicia Myles to that one. Swearing, mocking and taunting would not help her case. Instead, she remained silent.

  “Well, we are true to our word. As men of the Clan have always been. As tradition has taught us. Meet me here,” he reeled off an address, “In half an hour.”

  ****

  Mai met Gyuki for the second time that day in his first-floor hotel room. Behind closed and locked doors and draped windows, Gyuki was a different man. Stripped to the waist, he bowed without taking his eyes off her.

  “Come inside. We will leave soon.”

  Mai skirted him warily, eyeing every movement of his rippling body. “How about right now?”

  “You are scared of me.” Gyuki nodded. “I understand. But don’t be. You are still useful to us.”

  “Scared of you?” Mai repeated. “Why would I be? I could take you, Gyuki.”

  The master assassin gauged her movement. “Have you grown so much?”

  “You’re a fossil, Gyuki. A product of Japan’s past. You should have long since disappeared with the Samurai, the Shoguns and the fucking dynasties. And with the Ninja clans. They should also be long gone.”

  Gyuki faced her, deliberately making his muscles dance independently of themselves. “Fight me for your body,” he whispered malevolently. “As we used to do.”