The Matt Drake Boxset 6

by David Leadbeater

  “No, Alicia. Crouch got a look at it.”

  “Oh, so why are we back here then?”

  “Good question. I think we need to catch up.”

  They hustled out of the tomb, leaving the guide behind. Before they reached the exit staircase Drake had caught up to the ex-SAS commander.

  “Didn’t get chance,” he huffed. “What did you see?”

  Crouch made an improvised sign for ‘walls have ears’ and screwed his face up. “It’s not good.”

  With that, they climbed the stairs and emerged once more into the fresh air. It was Crouch that stopped quickly and motioned to the ominous line-up of mercs and spies, scattered liberally among the civilians and preparing to go down next.

  “Once that happens,” he said. “The race will be on and the world will be a lot less safe.”

  “So it’s real?” Drake asked.

  “Oh, it’s real,” Crouch cursed quietly. “It’s very real.”

  “In what form?”

  “Explain later,” Crouch stalled as they were ushered aside. “Basically, a depiction of the capstone set above the picture of another tomb, with a tiny set of specific hieroglyphics.”

  “You’re sure it’s genuine?” Kinimaka asked.

  “As much as I can be out here, right now. But finding the second seal and another symbol will confirm it.”

  “And you think we should minimize the number of people that are about to see it?” Smyth said. “What do you want us to do? We’re criminals right now, bud.”

  “I have an idea,” Alicia said.

  Drake and Dahl whipped their heads around, suddenly scared.

  “Noo—”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Alicia raised her dress slightly and strutted over, bold as brass, to the forty-strong group that awaited permission to head down to view Amenhotep’s tomb.

  “Oy!” she shouted. “Is that you?”

  Heads shot around and eyes darted in her direction. A tour guide stopped his spiel. Strangely, several men began to look uncomfortable.

  Alicia zeroed in on her target. “It is you? Gavin! Gavin Lucas, you bastard!”

  Dahl held Drake back from running after her. “Don’t worry,” the Swede said. “She’s chosen the daftest looking mammal. Just get ready.”

  Alicia walked right up to the edge of the crowd, ignoring the whispers and stares of the closest civilians and the new attention of the guards. One of the tour guides started to wander over.

  “Look at me!” Alicia glowered at her victim—a large, hard-faced man of thirty or so, bulging muscles threatening to rip his shirt at the seams and pant legs riding up over his socks due to the width of his thighs.

  Everyone saw the huge specimen mouth ‘me?’ and an anxious look fall across his face.

  “Yeah, you. Don’t you remember?” She turned to a nearby older woman looking splendid in her jewels and finery. “Thick as a tree trunk, but rode me harder than John Wayne on full gallop.”

  The older woman looked over with interest. Alicia held out her hands. “C’mere, Gavy-boy. C’mere. Let’s reacquaint.”

  The merc looked ready to start pushing his way toward her until one of his comrades leaned over and whispered into his ear. Immediately, a cloud of doubt settled over his features.

  “Yeah, my name ain’t Gavin.”

  Alicia laughed. “Don’t be a goose. You have that tattoo, don’t you? The one on your ass?”

  Now the man’s comrades were staring at him with more than just boredom.

  “What?”

  “You broke my heart!” Alicia pushed her way toward the man, largely to escape the attentions of the guide and the oncoming guards that just wanted to calm the scene. Alicia stood in front of the merc, looking up.

  “Don’t you remember me?”

  “Nah, girl, but I sure wish I did. You ain’t a bad looking bitch.”

  “I’m a what now?”

  “Get rid of the damn whore,” another merc spoke up, probably the leader of their little group. “We’re headed down.”

  Alicia shook her head. “Excuse me? Just one sec.” She held a finger in front of the newly arrived tour guide and his guard. “You need to apologize.”

  Laughter rang out from the mercs. Civilians all around looked embarrassed. Drake and the team were close now, ranged around Alicia and trying to look impartial.

  “I demand an apology!” Alicia cried in a high voice.

  The merc Alicia had picked on still looked uncertain, but the rest assumed their nastiest faces. Drake watched the spies in the crowd taking it all in without drawing attention.

  “Fuck off, whore,” one said.

  People gathered around gasped. Drake saw some of the men start to protest. This was about as far as they should go. Nobody wanted innocent civilians dragged into their mess.

  Then, everything changed. One of the mercs, unable to restrain himself, pushed ‘Gavin’ aside and shouted a string of curses into Alicia’s face. She reacted predictably with a knee to the groin, a jab to the sternum and a punch to the throat. Her abuser said no more, but went down gurgling, clutching his neck, tottering on his knees.

  Alicia placed a finger on his forehead. “There’s a free lesson for you,” she whispered and pushed him over. “Don’t treat women like that.”

  His friends were coming now, barging the crowd aside, vision filled with nothing but red mist. Alicia backed off into a tour guide and one of the guards, and gave them a look of apology. “I’d call in backup,” she said.

  Drake had been tracking the leader. Just before Alicia toppled the abuser he saw him make the tell-tale sign of an incoming communication—a finger placed to the ear. The leader then fixed Alicia with a clearer gaze before staring over at Drake.

  Oh shit, that was quick. Someone knows their way around the Internet and facial recognition software.

  Which begged the question: Why were they using such low-rent mercs?

  Drake was moving even as each successive thought materialized, and so were the rest of the team. The guard, apparently unaware that he had any form of nearby backup, raised his gun and began to shout. The crowd panicked. Men and women started crying out and looking to flee. An air of panic quickly set in.

  Dahl pulled the guard free and set him aside, yelling that he should call for backup. Drake didn’t know whether to be annoyed at Alicia or happy with what she’d done. The flow of people into the tomb had definitely been altered, but the outcome of tonight was still in jeopardy.

  “Not good.” Crouch pointed at the tomb’s entrance. Many were still heading down.

  “We can’t stop that,” Hayden said. “We need to leave. Now.”

  The mercenaries reached Drake, Dahl and Alicia. A tussle broke out, with fists flying. The three tried to contain the advance of the mercs but found themselves forced back by weight of numbers. Civilians still cried and stood all around. Some fell to the floor, knocked aside by the mercs.

  Drake saw guards formed of the Egyptian military beginning to assemble.

  “Out,” he shouted.

  They spun and ran, joined the bulk of their group and then hastened toward the edge of the stage. The mercs followed, sensing blood and victory rather than a sensible retreat and a chance to get to safety. They didn’t see the guards coming.

  Plus they forgot their orders, Drake thought. Bonus for us.

  Still, they had to assume other factions knew what they knew. He wanted to get hold of Crouch and extract the exact information but that would have to wait. He leapt from the stage amidst the SPEAR team at full flow, landing sprightly and turning it into a sprint. The guards wouldn’t pursue—they hadn’t done anything wrong.

  But the mercs knew them.

  For a moment he wondered if whoever was pulling their strings had now decided to deliberately send them after SPEAR, forgoing the tomb. But no, that just didn’t make sense. They left the stage area behind, pounding across a patch of desert now as they raced toward the parking areas. Here stood many coaches and p
rivate taxis used to ferry guests to and from the event. The road passed close by. Drake checked the rear whilst Hayden and Kinimaka scoped out the best exit.

  “Cairo,” Crouch said.

  “Yeah, already on it,” Hayden said. “Back to the safe house?”

  “Yes, it will be good for a short while.”

  Drake saw the mercs barging people off the stage, causing injuries as they neared its edge. The guards were in pursuit, coming around the side. Hayden urged them to a mini-van where the driver sat waiting, the engine ticking.

  “Sorry,” he said in poor English. “I . . . have . . . already . . . fare . . .”

  “Double.” Crouch stuck his head through the passenger window. “We’ll pay double. And make it quick, we have another party to get to!”

  “Ah! What the hell are you waiting for? Get on in!” Suddenly, he understood English just fine.

  Drake saw they barely had time, but didn’t want to draw attention to the pursuit. The team jumped in, told their driver to get a move on and then they were speeding across a flat piece of desert toward the main road. Drake, squashed in the back beside Smyth and Yorgi, stuck his nose against the rear pane of glass.

  “They’re slow,” he said. “But, I think still coming.”

  “Move it,” Crouch said.

  “I am going as fast as she can,” the driver told them. “What’s the rush, man? Party can wait.”

  “We’re hungry,” Alicia said bluntly. “Now speed her up before I start chomping on yer arm.”

  Drake and Smyth were assessing the pursuit. “Looks like half the mercs made it away,” Smyth said. “The rest stopped by guards. I guess that’s still about eight though.”

  “You think they’ll have weapons?” Yorgi asked.

  Kenzie barked a laugh. “Mercs? They’re never more than a mile from their stash, my Russian friend. No doubt buried their guns in the desert. What’s our head start?”

  Drake shrugged. “Five, six, minutes if they stop.”

  “They’ll stop.”

  “How long to Cairo?” Mai asked.

  “Big pyramid over there.” The driver pointed out the window. “Five minute drive.”

  “And then our arms are twenty minutes away,” Smyth pointed out.

  “It’s gonna be tricky,” Drake said. “Real tricky.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Between them, Alicia and Kenzie kept the driver at close to full speed the entire way. Even so the mercs were closing in by the time the outskirts of Cairo came into view. Drake breathed a sigh of relief to see the packed, mostly paved streets; the various homes with sheets draped outside windows and across small balconies, the impromptu stalls set up in street corners and tiny niches; all dusty and dirty from the desert, the rain and the circumstances. The pathways were uneven, rocky, strewn with rubbish. Their taxi driver veered toward the nearest, accepted cash, and waited for them to evacuate the car.

  Drake jumped into night-time Cairo. A general hubbub filled the air, shouts and catcalls punctuating the background noise. The air smelled of rotting rubbish laced with spice and other things Drake couldn’t identify—a complex smorgasbord of odors.

  They started walking swiftly, Smyth checking back to work out the progress of the following mercs. Each building here was built almost atop the next, with an ancient, sculpted church sitting alongside a new wooden-fronted, gray-blocked structure with no visible gap in between. The road twisted and turned, passing cafes and carpet and jewelry shops. Hayden took point, with Kinimaka and Crouch just a step behind. The ambient light was minimal, enshrouding narrow passages, sunken shopfronts and anything that might be trespassing there.

  Smyth caught up. “Best pick up the pace. They’re right behind us.”

  The dull drone of queuing motor cars and the high-pitched squeak of scooters came from the right. A deeper quiet came from the left. Hayden used her cellphone’s GPS to follow a winding path to the busy street, hoping it would help them disappear.

  Drake dropped back, making sure Smyth was not alone at the rear of the group.

  Mai went with him. The mercs were visible now, jogging and waving their guns carelessly. One of them spotted Drake and gave a shout.

  Instantly, he ducked aside. A shot rang out, passing between Mai and him. Smyth ducked into the shadows and quickly climbed a rickety ladder onto a balcony, then crouched down to wait. Drake slunk back, seeking half-light. Mai leapt atop a nearby stall, hoping it would hold for at least a minute.

  “Saw them,” a man shouted. “Swear down I did.”

  Five men appeared, walking carefully now; the other three in their party probably taking an alternative route. Drake waited for Smyth to make his move.

  A warm wind drifted up the passageway between buildings, stirring litter and making eddies in the piles of sand. Smyth leapt into their midst just as it died away.

  Landing feet first, his right elbow slammed down onto a merc’s neck with crushing force. The man collapsed instantly. Smyth kicked out at the next, keeping his balance. A gun flew through the air. Mai dived off the unsteady stall, losing a perfect target because the shaky supports collapsed just as she leapt. Still, she adjusted and came down in front of her adversary, taking him out with two blows. A merc spun quickly, bringing his elbows up to block her next attack, then pushed her away. Mai lost her footing on the uneven ground, went down to one knee. The merc, if he’d pressed ahead with his attack might have won, but the focus of his thoughts centered only on his weapon.

  Lifting the gun took several seconds.

  Mai balanced her weight on one hand and kicked out with both legs, taking him at the shins and watching him crash to the floor. His gun hit concrete and then she was upon him, a flashing blur in the dim, golden glow of the single light.

  Drake slunk out and came up behind the lead merc just as the man turned and took aim upon an embattled Smyth. The soldier’s back was turned; he would never have known. Drake snapped the man’s wrist without mercy and caught the gun before it fell to the floor.

  “You were once a soldier,” the Yorkshireman whispered. “What happened?”

  He didn’t wait for answer, smashing the man about the temples and seeing him stagger away. Two mercs were down, motionless, the other three struggling and bleeding.

  Drake waved at his colleagues. “C’mon, folks. Show mercy to these wankers. Maybe it’ll persuade them to get another job.”

  They melted away quickly, all three conscious that it would take a while to catch up. Mai slipped out her own cellphone and they ran hard, following the path they thought Hayden would have taken.

  Drake stayed on the lookout for the three rogue mercs as well as the ones they’d spared, knowing in his blood that men like that were far from being able to learn new lessons. Already, he knew, they’d be back in the chase.

  Smyth kept an eye to the rear, Mai to the front. Drake called Alicia.

  “Where are you?”

  She explained. Drake guessed they were just a few minutes apart.

  “Three to five unaccounted for,” he said. “Possibly tracking you.”

  “Understood.”

  They ended the call, both focused fully on their colleagues and surroundings. Drake, Mai and Smyth ran across a busy road, weaving between cars and around people, darting back into the shadows on the other side. They were only eight minutes from their safe house now but couldn’t afford to lead the mercs there.

  “I see Yorgi and Kenzie,” Mai said. “Up ahead.”

  Drake squinted, barely able to make them out, and was reminded briefly of Dahl’s comment about needing glasses. Were his eyes failing or was it the dull light?

  Just ignore the mad bastard.

  That usually worked. Drake checked around once more, seeing nothing untoward. Bit by bit, they caught up to the rest of the team who were moving at half pace.

  Hayden looked back. “All good?”

  “Yeah. Two taken out. Rest probably still coming.”

  “We’ve seen no sign of enemies,”
Kinimaka said.

  “They’re here though,” Kenzie said. “Close by.”

  Alicia stopped. “How can you—”

  They came from the side street, three at first and then the ragtag remnants of the earlier tussle. Alicia, Kinimaka and Hayden saw them coming and immediately jumped in to prevent any gun-play. Drake, Mai and Alicia ranged around as the rest of the team engaged.

  A shot rang out, the barrel of the gun forced toward the ground, the bullet striking and glancing away. Dahl kicked the offender hard in the face, sending him smashing back into a brick wall. Kenzie jumped in feet-first, pushing another man into a wooden structure, watching as the timbers fell all around and buried him. With a wry grin she picked up the sharpest spar of wood.

  Then spotted a lone gunman, hovering at the back of the mercs. She used another’s back to leap into action, and brought the spar down upon the man’s face. He raised an arm to block the blow and the gun went off, the bullet shooting high into the night. Kenzie swung twice more, drawing blood and forcing the man down.

  Behind, in the general melee, the rest of the team were taking on opponents. Drake used his environment; throwing a merc against a low balcony and then watching him fall into a narrow opening, unconscious. The next he brought down a line of washing upon, tangling and blinding the man. A few well-placed punches left him wrapped in a heap, groaning. Drake stood aside as another leapt in, then watched him trip headlong over the wrapped-up bundle on the floor. Another gun went skidding from another hand, rattling across the concrete and ending up at the base of a wall. Drake picked it up not just for protection but to prevent some civilian stumbling across it tomorrow.

  Mercs swung wildly. Dahl climbed a balcony to leap from, came down like a mountain on two mercs, and rendered them unconscious. Kenzie found herself on a similar balcony, a merc having followed her up there; then prodded him with the spar. The man caught it, wrenched it away but unbalanced and fell, arm pin wheeling, onto the concrete below. Kenzie dropped in his wake and saw blood seeping from the back of his head.

  She scooped the spar up, jabbed at another enemy.