The Matt Drake Boxset 6

by David Leadbeater

  “Below decks,” Mai said. “What do you see down there?”

  Kinimaka responded. “Rumpled beds. A toothbrush with toothpaste still attached. Full coffee cups. The staff quarters are clean and empty, the kitchen too. I believe we have a ghost ship on our hands here.”

  Alicia breathed out sharply. “Don’t say that.”

  “Yeah,” Luther spoke up, surprisingly for Drake given the man’s level-headed and candid attitude. “I remember being lost back in a desert somewhere in some Taliban-infested shithole, and this young soldier with a busted helmet came walking down the road and told me where all the buried IEDs were. I lived, thanks to him, but it turned out he didn’t . . . I looked him up later, and the kid died three months previous.”

  Drake felt Alicia shiver at his side. “Is that true?”

  “Of course it’s fucking true. You don’t mess with shit you don’t know nothin’ about, boy. And that includes you, Hawaii Five-0.”

  Kinimaka grumbled. Smyth, Yorgi and Molokai were searching the lowest deck and announced similar findings. No key, no signs of life. Hayden told them they had five minutes to double-check everything and then meet up on deck. Drake wandered over to a window to scan all the rolling horizons.

  “Ghost ship,” he whispered aloud. “Where’d you all go?”

  “If it were a Kraken there’d be more damage,” Alicia said with conviction. “So don’t worry.”

  “Thanks, love.”

  Of course, these days, there were several clear reasons why a ship might end up deserted, and none of them good. Pirates. Terrorists. A criminal undertaking. Ransom. But he was concerned at the lack of evidence, the sense that a full crew had been interrupted, surprised. The waters were empty to all the compass points; just blue, undulating ocean.

  And it left them with one enormous problem.

  They reassembled quickly, taking themselves out onto the main deck and up toward the prow where there was room for everyone. The chopper hovered above, its rappel lines snaking softly in the gentle breeze.

  “It’s a new one on me,” Drake said first.

  “Do we abandon the key?” Kinimaka asked, then added: “And the boat?”

  “The Dagger of Nemesis comes next on the list,” Yorgi informed them.

  “Bollocks, I hate losing,” Dahl said. “Somebody mentioned this thing was drifting, right? Pilot—can you track a path along which it may have drifted?”

  “Aye, mate, that I can. But you gotta tell me first—why did the GPR device point us to the boat if it’s not there?”

  Dahl waved it around, checked the batteries and then tried again. “A residual signal?” he ventured. “Or maybe it was here when Bennett ordered the check. Maybe . . . it’s only recently moved.”

  The pilot offered a grudging, “Maybe.”

  While the team waited for him to finish charting the drift of the Enlargo, they stood, trapped in the unnerving ambience that lay over the empty boat like a heavy shroud. Minutes later, the Yorkshireman came back on the comms.

  “Must have drifted between five and seven miles assuming you’re right and whatever happened, happened this morning. They wouldn’t be drinking coffee at night, right?”

  “The beds are slept in and unmade,” Mai pointed out.

  “Aye, so let’s get you all winched back up and take a short trip.”

  They left the Enlargo where it was, abandoned and lonely, and watched out of the windows as the chopper retraced the boat’s itinerant path. Empty blue seas greeted them and what had, at first, been a splendid vista was now humdrum and a little alarming.

  “No rafts, no lifeboats, no . . . nothing,” Hayden said.

  “Big storm could’a took ’em?” Kinimaka wondered.

  “Nothing on today’s forecast,” the pilot said.

  “I’m thinking something more physical,” Alicia said. “And with teeth.”

  “Stop thinking.” Mai sighed. “It doesn’t work well for you.”

  “Says the frisky Sprite.”

  Drake ignored their bickering, watching Luther and Molokai. The two new members of the team rarely spoke to each other, but often communicated in shared looks and gestures. Clearly, they knew each other inside out. Drake got the impression that Luther could fit easily into any team and any situation, whereas Molokai would always be detached and uneasy. The story of their pasts would be a bloody interesting one.

  He returned his attention to the window as the pilot told them they’d arrived at an approximate spot. Two minutes later he called out for people to come forward.

  Drake crowded into the cockpit. Through the wide glass window, he saw a surprising mass. Surprising because the map on the instrument panel didn’t acknowledge it.

  “Is that an island?”

  “Aye, mate, it is, an uncharted one.”

  “Shit.” Drake shared a glance with Mai, remembering another uncharted island they’d visited and what had happened there.

  “Pull up,” Hayden said. “We need to see the size of it and check for others.”

  “A few miles in circumference,” the pilot said. “Nothing you couldn’t walk around in a couple of hours, and I see no other land masses to any horizon. We’re pretty much on our own here.”

  “Strangely,” Kinimaka said. “That doesn’t help.”

  Even Molokai pulled his outer robe more tightly around him.

  Dahl pointed the adapted GPR at the island, lowering the chopper’s window as they drifted nearer, now able to make out a small mountain chain, probably volcanic, and several stands of dense, green trees. A valley lay beyond the beach, bristling with shrubbery. Dahl switched the device on and there was no mistaking the sudden red pulse that started blinking in the center of the screen.

  “The key,” he breathed softly. “It’s there.”

  “Then put us down,” Hayden said. “Right there on the beach.”

  Nobody spoke. They all remembered the Enlargo only too well and, with their imaginations fired up, they couldn’t help but wonder exactly what unknown hell they might be about to walk into.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The beach was pale in color, almost white, and belied any sense of wrongdoing. Drake waited, standing in the thick sand, staring at the treeline ahead and wondering what manner of escapade awaited them.

  Dahl broke out his GPR and studied the signal. “North.” He aimed his hand in the direction of travel. “Dead north.”

  Alicia was studying the treeline. “Got a machete?”

  “Oh, hang on.” Kenzie rummaged around her jacket’s various pockets. “Ah, no, must have misplaced it.”

  Alicia groaned, but Molokai withdrew his arm from under his thick coat, brandishing a three-foot-long gleaming blade. “Will this do?”

  Kenzie practically ran over to hug him. “Oh, wow, what else do you have under those robes, man?”

  Alicia tried not to stare at him, but waved at the trees. “Lead the way.”

  The day was hot, but Molokai revealed not an ounce of sweat or discomfort as he walked up the beach toward the greenery. The team spread out, careful to watch for any movement and to keep an eye on the sea too. The pilot left his helicopter as securely as he was able and joined the team.

  The going was tough at first as Molokai forged a way. It didn’t take long to find the gaps between the trees though, the machete was put away and they were able to walk easily between thick tree trunks, wading through a bed of vegetation. The air was heavy beneath the boughs and the sunlight intermittent. A wave of heat fell over them. They ranged left and right, always alert, but came across nothing untoward and no tracks.

  “Could be as uninhabited as it looks,” Kinimaka said, trying to disentangle his bulk from a bush. “Maybe we’re—”

  “Barking up the wrong tree?” Drake asked. “Yeah, maybe. But Dahl’s gizmo says not.”

  The red pulse beat consistently a few miles ahead of their position, judging by the scale of the island.

  “This Key of Hades,” Luther asked as they walked.
“What is it, exactly?”

  “It’s the key to the underworld,” Hayden said, tying back her hair as the heat grew. “It opens the locked doors that lead to hell.”

  “Shit.” Luther shook his head. “Like we need that in our lives.”

  “I don’t think it means anything to Tempest,” Drake told them his thoughts. “They’re simply gathering together a list of known weapons.”

  “It seems that way,” Hayden agreed. “But I’m reserving judgment for now.”

  Gradually, the density of the trees lessened and the ground began to slope. They emerged onto a short field where the earth fell away in a regular gradient, turning into a mile long, mile wide, incredibly green valley. The sides sloped sharply—the far side was almost a cliff face—and there wasn’t a visible structure in sight.

  “So,” Hayden mused. “Into the valley? Or around?”

  “Bad place.” Molokai stared ahead. “No cover, and raised hills all around. I don’t like it.”

  “Gotta agree,” Luther said. “Sitting ducks and all that.”

  “No structures of any kind,” Dahl said. “But that doesn’t mean nothing’s there. And the GPR says the key is . . .” He pointed a hand again, dead north. “Right at the head of the valley.”

  “You sure?” Smyth asked. “Or is it at the top of the cliff above the valley? ’Cause, dude, that’s a world of difference when we’re walking.”

  Drake saw Smyth made a good point. The cliff could only be accessed by walking around the valley top and negotiating a range of ragged boulders, whereas the end of the valley could be reached simply by continuing along their path.

  “Let’s split,” he said. “Any preferences?”

  Opinions were voiced but the team soon separated. Drake and Dahl took their time, scanning the whole area for movement, but saw nothing out of place. Soon, they started to descend into the valley.

  Alicia gave all their thoughts a voice. “I don’t like it,” she said. “Maybe it’s the drifting boat giving me the creeps but then this uninhabited island? And I can’t help but think . . .”

  “We’re being watched?” Drake finished. “Yeah, I get that too.”

  “If that’s the case,” Dahl said. “They’re very good. We have a world of experience here among us.”

  With the Swede’s words rattling ominously in their wake, the team continued, watching their step as they approached the valley floor, feeling the soft loam underneath their boots. Drake was the first to see the raw earth ahead and then the great, fresh delve in the ground. He slowed, sensing something horrific.

  “Oh, God,” Mai breathed and then stopped in her tracks.

  A mass grave lay before them, dug deep and filled with dead bodies. Drake saw roughly a dozen, most shot but at least two with grenade wounds. The sight was as grisly as he’d seen and made him stare rigidly toward the end of the valley. The smell was ripe, almost overpowering, making even the seasoned soldiers breath only through their mouths.

  Dahl jumped on the comms, relaying their find to the rest of the team. Hayden asked if it was the ship’s crew.

  “I think so.” Dahl walked around the perimeter of the grave. “I see several white uniforms on males and females. Also, a man wearing a suit and an older female. Best guess? These are our missing people and one of these bodies is Gordon Demba.”

  “Understood,” Hayden said and signed off.

  The team raised weapons, moving past the gravesite with its accompaniment of flies and insects. Nobody spoke. They stayed low, more aware now of the lack of cover and the utter lack of movement anywhere inside their vision.

  “Signal is still good,” Dahl said. “Same place.”

  “Did you see the bodies?” Mai said. “Stripped of everything except their clothes. No jewelry. No watches or rings. Whoever did this also robbed them.”

  Drake saw the tripwire three feet in front of his boots and held up a hand. It was a thin strand of cord, flexing in the slight breeze and blending in with the floor. What gave it away was its uniform straightness when all the earth around it was arbitrary. Crouching, he studied the style of it and found the trap.

  A claymore, old as the hills and covered with grass.

  “Soldier?” Dahl ventured.

  “This gets weirder and weirder,” Drake said.

  “Could be any inbred criminal enterprise,” Hayden said over the comms when they warned her. “We’re taking it steady.”

  Drake moved to the slopes, where cover was easier to find. Dahl dropped to his knees and used field glasses to study the end of the valley, now only half a mile distant. After a minute, he grunted.

  “Now we know what we’re looking for,” he said. “Easy.”

  Drake took the glasses and focused in. He saw a soldier’s hide, a camouflaged den where a sniper might lie in wait for a target, sometimes for days.

  “He’s well dug in,” the Yorkshireman said. “Seriously, I can’t even see him.”

  “Could be a decoy—” Hayden began over the comms but then stopped suddenly as the high-pitched whine of a bullet echoed across the valley.

  Instinctively, Drake dropped, checking himself for holes even though he knew the bullet would already have struck. Alive then, for now. The entire team called out their status. All was well.

  “Any idea where that came from?” Dahl asked.

  “Not a clue,” Drake said. “But we gotta split up right now.”

  They parted and crawled from cover to cover, taking it slow. Two more bullets were fired, one kicking up dirt close to Alicia’s elbow and the other sent toward the valley’s perimeter where it tore hunks from a fallen bough.

  “Big caliber,” Kinimaka said, hiding behind the bough.

  “No movement at all,” Dahl said. “We have to watch our backs too. Consider some kind of remote mount.”

  Kenzie whistled. “Good call. He could be calling these shots in over his damn phone.”

  Drake studied the terrain once more, aware that too much scrutiny was little better than none at all. If you stared at a patch of grass long enough it would move eventually. Equally, it would also start to blend with its surroundings. Above, Hayden’s team were pushing away from the edge and homing in on the cliff face. Below, they started up the slope that led to the hide and the place Dahl’s retro GPR device pointed them.

  Drake breathed shallowly, wiping sweat from his brow. Mai and Luther watched their rear. Finally, Drake spied a camouflaged rifle inside the hide that appeared to be mounted on a swivel. He relayed the news quickly and then spotted a second hide.

  “We should halt,” he said. “There’s a reason this guy isn’t shooting us to bits.”

  “The key is right there,” Dahl said. “Inside that first hide.” He breathed deeply. “Who’s with me?”

  “No,” Hayden said quickly. “We don’t know what the hell’s going on.”

  “We don’t need to,” Dahl said. “Anyone up for a brisk jog?”

  Drake saw the Mad Swede come to life and knew there would be no stopping him. Better to tag along than to watch disaster unfold without being able to influence it. Alicia was there and then Mai and Luther, ready to charge in.

  Dahl didn’t wait a moment longer. He rushed up the last stretch of the valley, straight at the hide, and then flung himself down as the barrel of the gun swiveled toward him. Bullets shot out, ear-splittingly loud this close, but Dahl was underneath its trajectory and the others were alongside. The Swede crawled up fast, coming under the gun and ripping it from its moorings. Drake saw the remote box and disabled it. Luther took the gun, checking its ammo. Dahl was already searching the hide.

  “Duffel bags,” he said. “Army issue. Full of the crew’s belongings. Looks like he stripped them of their wealth and then executed them, stashing the goods up here. Bastard could have a dozen of them all around, I guess.”

  Drake had eyes on the second hide, but Alicia and Luther were already there, deactivating the rifle. Alicia held up another duffel, brimming with items.

>   “I don’t know what this is exactly,” Drake relayed it through the comms. “But it’s not good.”

  “We’ve been scanning the valley and the slopes,” Hayden said. “No more hides, but nothing human either. Did you find the key?”

  Dahl sat looking uncomfortable, still with the duffel in his hands. “He murdered all these people.”

  “He?” Hayden said. “What makes you think it’s just one ‘he’?”

  “Sniper stuff,” Dahl said. “They usually work alone. The fact that we haven’t been attacked points to a low-number adversary. I’m guessing one, or two.”

  “But how would one person force all those people off the ship?”

  “Easy,” Drake answered. “If he’s a trained soldier. Brute force and aggression would go a long way and maybe he took someone hostage. Someone important—the old woman maybe. He brought them here and then killed them.”

  “But why?”

  Dahl’s face was set in a miserable frown as he sorted through the contents of the duffel bag. Bracelets and rings came out, and a brace of watches, but finally at the bottom of the bag he found the object they were searching for.

  “Is that it?” Alicia asked. “I expected more.”

  Dahl waved the GPR over the key and watched it light up. The key was black in color, inlaid with golden bands and serrations at various intervals. The shoulder was high and twice-spiked, the cuts complex and notched out all along its length. Even the tip was fancy, tapering to a point where a cloven hoof swept back toward the bow. Dahl handled it carefully, not wanting to get cut.

  “Ah, listen up,” Hayden spoke over the comms. “We’ve found something up here.”

  Drake’s heart fell in anticipation of more bodies. “What?”

  “A cave, well hidden. The guys are exploring it now but it’s a pretty safe bet that it belongs to our sniper. There’s a huge stash of armaments up here. Army fatigues, combat vest. Camo jacket. Rucksacks, rifle cases. You name it.”

  “So it’s pretty safe to say this man was a soldier,” Mai said.