The Matt Drake Boxset 6

by David Leadbeater

  They readied to move out.

  “Try to avoid a confrontation,” Hayden said. “Obviously.”

  “And if we can’t?” Dahl asked.

  “Well, if it’s Mossad maybe we can talk.”

  “I doubt they’ll have ID vests,” Alicia muttered. “This ain’t a cop show.”

  Hayden momentarily flicked her comms to the off position. “If we’re fired upon, we fight,” she said. “What else can we do?”

  Drake saw it as the best compromise. In a perfect world they would sneak past the approaching soldiers and make it back to their transport, unscathed and undetected. Of course, SPEAR wouldn’t exist in a perfect world. He checked his weapons again as the team made ready to move out.

  “Take the long route,” Hayden suggested. “They won’t.”

  Every precaution. Every trick to avoid conflict.

  Lauren’s voice was a splinter in his ear. “Just got word, people. The Swedes are inbound too.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Drake led the way, first moving behind the dilapidated building and then heading downhill. Darkness still pooled across the land but sunrise was not far away. Drake wound his way in a ragged loop until he was traveling back toward the sea.

  Senses alert, heads up, the team followed.

  Dahl took possession of the box, careful to keep the lid tight under his arm. To his side ran Kenzie, helping him navigate. The team wore their night-vision gear, all except for Smyth who preferred to fully sense his environment. It was a good mix. Side by side and in file they ran until they reached the bottom of the hill and the flat plain where there was no cover. Drake kept to his loop, bringing them around in the general direction of the boats. No words were passed—all used their senses to test the environment.

  They knew how deadly their enemies were. No half-interested mercenaries this time. Today, and the next and the next, they were up against soldiers as good as them.

  Almost.

  Drake slowed, sensing they were moving just a little too fast. The terrain was not in their favor. A pale glow crept toward the eastern horizon. Soon, there would be no cover. Smyth ranged to his right and Mai to his left. The team kept low. The hill with the dilapidated building on top shrank to their rear. A row of brush dotted by a few trees appeared up ahead and Drake felt a little relief. They were a good way to the northeast of where they needed to be, but the end result would be worth it.

  Best case scenario? No fighting.

  He moved on, watching for dangers and keeping his body language neutral. The comms remained quiet. As they approached the cover they slowed, just in case somebody was already there, waiting. Being Special Forces they might expect a warning, but nothing could be taken for granted on this mission.

  Drake saw a large area bordered by several trees and straggly brush, and stopped, signaling the others to take a break. A check of the landscape revealed nothing. The hilltop was deserted as far as he could see. To their left, sparse cover led all the way to the flat plain and then the shores of the sea. He guessed their boats might be a fifteen minute hike away. Quietly, he keyed the comms.

  “Lauren, any news on the Swedes?”

  “Nope. But they must be close.”

  “Other teams?”

  “Russia’s in the air.” She sounded embarrassed. “Can’t give you a position.”

  “Place is about to become a hot zone,” Smyth said. “We gotta move.”

  Drake agreed. “Let’s move out.”

  He rose, and a shout blasted at him as shocking as any bullet.

  “Stop there! We want the box. Do not move.”

  Drake didn’t hesitate, but dropped fast, both grateful for the warning and shaken that they hadn’t spotted the enemy. Dahl glared at him and Alicia looked confused. Even Mai exhibited surprise.

  Kenzie clicked her tongue. “That has to be Mossad.”

  “Did you get a bead on ’em?” Hayden asked.

  “Yeah,” Drake said. “Speaker’s dead ahead and probably has mates to the sides. Right where we wanna be.”

  “We can’t go forward,” Mai said. “We go back. That way.” She pointed to the east. “There’s cover and a road, some farms. A city not too far away. We can call an evac.”

  Drake glanced at Hayden. Their boss seemed to be weighing up the choices between heading north along the coast, east toward civilization, or facing the battle.

  “Nothing good happens if we stay here,” Dahl said. “Facing one elite enemy would be tough but we know more are on their way.”

  Drake already knew Mai was right. North offered no means of escape. They would be running alongside the Hellespont with bare cover and trusting everything to sheer luck that they might stumble across a mode of transport. Traveling east guaranteed an opportunity.

  Plus, the other teams were unlikely to be coming from a city.

  Hayden called it and then turned toward the east, gauging the ground and the chance of a quick getaway. Right then, the voice rang out again.

  “Stay right there!”

  “Crap,” Alicia breathed. “The dude’s psychic.”

  “Just got good eyes,” Smyth said, meaning visual tech. “Get behind something solid. We’re about to take fire.”

  The team moved, heading east. The Israelis opened fire, bullets slamming above the SPEAR team’s heads into tree trunks and between branches. Leaves rained down. Drake scrambled fast, knowing the shots were aimed deliberately high and wondering what the hell kind of new warfare they had ventured into here.

  “Just like a friggin’ army exercise,” Alicia said.

  “I really hope they’re using rubber bullets,” Dahl replied.

  They scrambled and improvised movement toward the east, reaching more sturdy trees and grabbing a look. Drake fired back, deliberately high. He saw no signs of movement.

  “Tricky bastards.”

  “Small team,” Kenzie said. “Cautious. Automatons. They will be awaiting a decision.”

  Drake sought to take full advantage. The team wound a cautious path to the east, right into the pale dawn that still threatened the far horizon. As he reached another clearing, Drake heard and practically felt the whizz of a bullet.

  “Shit.” He dived for cover. “That one was close.”

  More gunfire, more lead slamming among the cover. Hayden stared Drake in the eyes. “Their orders have changed.”

  Drake breathed deeply, scarcely believing it. The Israelis were firing hard, and no doubt advancing at a careful but advantageous rate. Another bullet took a chunk of bark from a tree just behind Yorgi’s head, making the Russian flinch hard.

  “Not good,” Kenzie grunted furiously. “Not good at all.”

  Drake’s eyes were like flint. “Hayden, get on to Lauren. Ask her to confirm with Crowe that we fire back!”

  “We have to fire back,” Kenzie cried out. “You guys never checked before.”

  “No! They’re paid soldiers, elite forces, trained and following orders. They’re fucking allies, potential friends. Check, Hayden. Check now!”

  More bullets rifled the undergrowth. The enemy remained unseen, unheard, their advance known only through SPEAR’s own experience. Drake watched Hayden click the comms and speak to Lauren, then prayed for a fast response.

  The Mossad soldiers came closer.

  “Reconfirm our status.” Even Dahl sounded stressed. “Lauren! Get the decision? Do we engage?”

  *

  Already driven away from their boats, the SPEAR team were forced to move further east. Under fire, they were driven hard. Reluctant to fight known allies, they were neck deep in danger.

  Scrambling, scraped and bloody, they employed every trick in their arsenal, every ploy, to put distance between themselves and Mossad. It only took minutes for Lauren to come back, but those minutes dragged on longer than a Justin Bieber CD.

  “Crowe ain’t happy. Says you got your orders. Secure the weapons at all costs. All four of them.”

  “That’s it?” Drake asked. “You to
ld her who we’re up against?”

  “Of course. She sounded pissed. I think we pissed her off.”

  Drake shook his head. Doesn’t make sense. We should be working together on this.

  Dahl leant an opinion. “We did go against her orders in Peru. Maybe this is payback.”

  Drake didn’t believe it. “Nah. That’d be petty. She’s not that kind of politician. We’re up against allies. Shit.”

  “We have our orders,” Hayden said. “Let’s survive today and argue tomorrow.”

  Drake knew she was right, but couldn’t help thinking that the Israelis had probably said the exact same thing. This was how age-old grievances began. As a team now they blazed a trail to the east, staying within their shield of forestation, and organized a rearguard, nothing too aggressive but enough to slow down the Israelis. Smyth, Kinimaka and Mai were outstanding at showing that they now meant business, hobbling their adversaries at every turn.

  It came from behind them as Drake flitted between trees. A chopper thundered overhead, then banked and dropped to a landing in some discreet clearing. Hayden didn’t have to say a word.

  “Swedes? Russians? Jesus, this is bad shit, guys!”

  Drake immediately heard gunfire from that direction. Whoever had just exited that chopper had been fired upon, and not by Mossad.

  That meant four Special Forces teams were now in the fray.

  Ahead, the forest ended and a wide field bordered by stone walls revealed an old farmhouse.

  “Make some time up,” he cried. “Go hard and fast. We can regroup there.”

  The team ran like the hounds of Hell were racing at their heels.

  *

  Running at a full but controlled pace, the team randomly broke cover and pelted toward the farmhouse. The walls and window openings were almost as beat-up as the hill-house had been, signifying the lack of human presence. Three Special Forces teams lay at their backs but how close?

  Drake didn’t know. He jogged hard across the rutted ground, taking his night-vision apparatus off and using the lightening skies to mark the way. Half the team scanned the way ahead, half the way behind. Mai whispered that she’d seen the Mossad team reach the edge of the forest, but then Drake reached the first low wall and Mai and Smyth put down a little suppressing fire.

  Together, they huddled behind the stone wall.

  The farmhouse stood another twenty paces ahead. Drake knew it would do them no good to allow the Israelis and others to get settled and establish perfect lines of sight. Also the other teams would be wary now of each other. He spoke into the comms.

  “Best haul ass, folks.”

  Alicia shifted to stare at him. “That your best American accent?”

  Drake looked worried. “Crap. I’ve finally turned.” Then he saw Dahl. “But, hey, could be worse, I guess.”

  As one they broke cover. Mai and Smyth again provided containing fire and received only two rounds in return. No other sounds were heard. Drake found a sturdy wall and stopped. Hayden immediately put Mai and Smyth and Kinimaka on perimeter watch and then scurried over to join the others.

  “We’re good for a few minutes. What do we have?”

  Dahl was already breaking out the map as Lauren’s voice filled their ears.

  “Plan B is still possible. Head inland. If you’re fast you won’t need transport.”

  “Plan fucking B.” Drake shook his head. “Always plan B.”

  The perimeter watch reported all was clear.

  Hayden indicated the box Dahl carried. “We gotta take responsibility here. If you lose that we have no idea what’s inside. And if you lose it to an enemy ...” She didn’t need to go on. The Swede placed the box on the ground and knelt beside it.

  Hayden brushed at the symbol engraved into the top. The swirling blades cast an ominous warning. Dahl urged the lid open gently.

  Drake held his breath. Nothing happened. It was always a risk, but they had been unable to see any hidden locks or mechanisms. Now, Dahl pulled the lid up fully and peered into the space within.

  Kenzie grunted. “This is what? A weapon of war? Tied to Hannibal and hidden by the order? All I see is a bunch of paper.”

  Dahl sat back on his haunches. “War can be waged through words too.”

  Hayden carefully lifted a handful of sheets out and scanned the text. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Looks like a research file and ... a record of ...” She paused. “Tests? Testing?” She flicked through more pages. “Build specs.”

  Drake frowned. “Now that sounds bad. They’re calling it Project Babylon, Lauren. See what you can dig up on that.”

  “Got it,” the New Yorker said. “Anything else?”

  “I’m just getting a feel for these specs,” Dahl began. “It’s a gigantic—”

  “Down!” Smyth yelled. “Incoming.”

  The team dropped and prepared. A volley of gunfire ripped across the stone walls, harsh and deafening. Smyth returned fire from the right, sighting from a niche in the wall. Hayden shook her head.

  “We’re gonna have to pack this up. Get out of here.”

  “Haul ass?” Drake asked.

  “Haul ass.”

  “Plan B,” Alicia said.

  Staying safe, they moved from wall to wall toward the rear of the farmhouse. Debris littered the floor and chunks of masonry and timber marked where the roof had given way. Mai, Smyth and Kinimaka watched the rear. Drake paused as they reached the back windows and glanced at the route ahead.

  “This can only get harder,” he said.

  The rising sun slipped over the horizon in a rush of color.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The race continued, but now the odds were drawing in. As Drake and Alicia, in front, broke cover and headed inland, careful to keep the farmhouse between them and their pursuers, the Mossad team finally emerged from the forest. Clad all in black and with face masks, they came low and cautious, guns up and firing. Mai and Smyth quickly fell behind the cover of the farmhouse. Hayden sprinted forward.

  “Move!”

  Drake fought the instinct to stand and fight; Dahl to his left clearly fought it too. Normally they battled and outwitted their opponents—sometimes it was down to brute force and numbers. But often it was down to the numb-headedness of their opponents. Most paid mercenaries were slow and dull-witted, relying on their size, ferocity and lack of morals to get the job done.

  Not today.

  Drake was acutely aware of the need to protect the prize. Dahl carried the box and kept it as protected as it was ever going to be. Yorgi now ranged ahead, sampling the ground and trying to find the paths with the most cover. They traversed a hilly field and then dropped through a small, sparse stand of trees. The Israelis stopped their fire for a period, perhaps sensing other teams and not wanting to broadcast their position.

  Many tactics were now on display.

  But, for Drake, Alicia summed it up best. “For fuck’s sake, Yogi. Get your Russkie head down and run!”

  Lauren was tracking their progress by GPS and announced the plan B rendezvous was just over the next horizon.

  Drake breathed a little easier. The stand of trees ended and Yorgi led the way up a slight hill, Kinimaka hot on his heels. The Hawaiian’s trousers were caked in mud where he’d fallen—three times. Alicia glanced across at Mai, moving nimbly between folds in the ground.

  “Friggin’ Sprite. Looks like a spring lamb gamboling along.”

  “Everything she does, she does it well,” Drake agreed.

  Alicia skidded in shale, but managed to keep her stride. “We all do it well.”

  “Yeah, but some of us look more like goats.”

  Alicia raised her weapon. “Hope you don’t mean me, Drakey.” Her voice held a note of warning.

  “Oh, of course not, dear. Obviously, I meant the Swede.”

  “Dear?”

  Shots rang out from behind, cutting Dahl’s retort off before it even began. Experience told Drake the shots were not meant for them, and con
sisted of two different notes. Mossad were engaging with either the Russians or the Swedes.

  The Swedes probably, he thought, ran headlong into Mossad.

  He couldn’t help the private chuckle.

  Dahl glanced over as if sensing the outrage. Drake offered innocent eyes. They crested the minor hill and slipped down the other side.

  “Transport incoming,” Lauren said.

  “There!” Hayden pointed to the skies, far away, where a black speck moved. Drake viewed the area and dragged Yorgi down just as a bullet skimmed its way over the top of the hill. Someone had suddenly become more interested in them.

  “Into the valley,” Kinimaka said. “If we can reach that set of trees ...”

  The team readied for the final sprint. Drake glanced again at the oncoming speck. For a second he thought he might be seeing a shadow, but then saw the truth.

  “Um, people, that’s another chopper.”

  Kinimaka stared hard. “Crap.”

  “And there.” Mai pointed to the left, high toward a bank of clouds. “A third.”

  “Lauren,” Hayden said urgently. “Lauren, talk to us!”

  “Just getting confirmation.” The calm voice came back. “You have the Chinese and the Brits in the air. Russia, Swedes and Israelis on the ground. Look, I’m gonna patch you into the chatter now so you can get first time information. Some of it’s crap, but anything could be valuable.”

  “The French?” Kinimaka wondered for some reason.

  “Nothing,” Lauren said.

  “Good job they’re not all like Beau,” Alicia said with a twist of bitterness and melancholy. “The French, I mean. The guy was a traitor, but damn good at his job.”

  Dahl screwed his face up. “If they’re like Beau,” he said quietly. “They could already be here.”

  Alicia blinked at that, studying the nearby mounds of dirt. Nothing moved.

  “We’re surrounded,” Hayden said.

  “Special Forces teams to all sides,” Drake agreed. “Rats in a trap.”