Inca Kings (Matt Drake Book 15)

by David Leadbeater

  “My dad just died,” Dino said in a broken voice. “How can I do anything?”

  “Because your mother and brother’s futures depend on it. Because you want to rid the earth of the rest of these assholes. Because you’re a bloody good soldier, that’s why.”

  “In the end,” Wu said, “it all comes down to family.”

  Karin stared at him. Once, she’d had a family. Then another, until she realized all they were doing was leading her from one heartbreak to another. She snapped. She planned. And now she was here.

  “Which I always thought you couldn’t choose,” she said reflectively. “But here, now, I guess we can.”

  The deeds they’d done together would either destroy or fortify their relationship. Wu looked over at the ticking Range Rover. “Let’s finish it.”

  Karin dropped her M16 into the dust. “You too, Dino.”

  “Are you sure, Blake? I just can’t think straight.”

  “This is the only way. But get your head on right, Dino, ’cause we’re heading right into crack central.”

  *

  The ‘ranch’ turned out to be a small, brick-built house with a large garden, stables at the rear, a huge shed, and a double wooden garage. Karin saw that it backed onto the tallest hill in the area, and immediately began running possibilities through her mind. This was more interesting than she’d first thought. The possibilities fed her imagination, widening her outlook, making the cogs turn even faster.

  The trio surveyed and waited; took an hour to creep into the grounds and stop with their backs up against the garage wall. The house’s doors were all open, the windows too. Rap music blared out, turned up to full volume. Occasionally a shadow passed an open window, stripped at least to the waist. Once, a man came out, slipped out back and returned two minutes later.

  “No way of telling how many,” Wu said.

  “Room by room,” Karin said. “None survive.”

  “You okay with that peashooter?” Dino asked, still trying to get his head straight.

  “I’ll use it until I find something better. One thing I do know from experience is that a dead enemy never needs his weapons. Besides, the caliber’s pretty good.”

  She peered around the corner, struck by a sudden thought. The discipline, the fieldwork, the routine—it all felt normal to her now. In just a few months she’d managed to change her mindset, her vocabulary and her outlook. Still a long way to go.

  Maybe. But eventually she’d see them all in their finest hours.

  No movement at the farmhouse. No change in the music. She heard a man’s forced laughter. Somewhere, on the second floor, a television competed with the music, canned game-show laughter booming out at regular intervals.

  Dino tapped her shoulder. Karin ran low and fast, clothes jangling, until she reached the front door. She pulled up, took a breather, checked the interior and saw all was clear. Another tap told her Dino had checked the rear and all was well. In she went, stopping at the first room and glancing inside. Incredibly, it was empty—a large living room with plush sofa, widescreen TV and decorations. Pictures on the wall showed an older couple—probably the family of one of these crackheads who’d recently passed away.

  The explanation made sense. She pushed into the room nevertheless to make sure they left no threat at their backs. Dino stayed by the door, Wu backed her up. All clear. They exited and pushed into the next room.

  A topless man sat at a table, drinking milk and dry-feeding himself a handful of cereal. Surprise lit his eyes for all but two seconds. The gun on the table stayed untouched as a bullet took the left side of his face away. He collapsed into his cereal, the noise easily masked by the booming music. Karin again double-checked the room and the closet at the rear. She gave the all-clear. This time, Wu exited first and took point into the last room on the right—a kitchen. It took a moment for Karin to figure it all out, but in an instant she knew—just as the bullets started flying.

  The kitchen was the largest room in the house and had been cleared out. The gang were cooking their merchandise here. The smells were sharp, the surfaces clean and reflective. The bodies were dirty, and wore only shorts and masks. Karin took great care—dropping the first and then another. A third got a shot off, the bullet thudding into the door frame. Wu aimed and took him out, sending him stumbling back into a counter. Glass paraphernalia and plastic tubes burst and shattered everywhere. Liquid ran out, mixing with spatters of blood. Karin pushed deeper into the room. A short youth with lank hair was brandishing an M16 in one hand, the barrel shaking at the ceiling. Wu dropped him without a word. Dino stood back at the door.

  Crisp, precise and skillful so far. They tidied the bottom floor of the house out; exterminated the vermin with prejudice. The guns piled up. The plastic packets piled higher.

  The furthest room on the right held the stereo system and was being played by five more youths. These saw the soldiers coming and ran at them; one with a machete in his hand and the other two with nothing.

  Wu managed to get a shot off before the machete descended. He dived forward and rolled as the blade bludgeoned thin air. Karin was behind and suddenly face to face with machete man. She fired. The bullet knocked him back into one of his colleagues. The third then hit her hard, muscled shoulder striking her chest. She flailed away, unable to keep her balance. Wu went further into the room, facing two alone.

  Dino kept his head, firing at and hitting the third man, then jumping over his still falling corpse. Karin rose instantly, checking the rear and covering for the front two. They hadn’t missed anyone, she was sure, but you never let your guard drop.

  She saw legs descending the stairs at pace, and then a head appeared, glaring through the wooden spindles.

  “The fuck you doin’ here?”

  “Garbage disposal,” Karin returned, and ran straight at him. The legs twisted, the face vanished. She reached the bottom of the stairs, shouting her intentions back at Wu and Dino. Carefully, she looked up, saw flying feet, and then ran hard two at a time. By the time she reached the top all was clear.

  Four doors stretched out along the wide landing—three bedrooms and a bathroom, she guessed.

  Perfect.

  You’re not even close to it yet. Plus—that’s not exactly future proof.

  Shedding those unstoppable thoughts she waited patiently, heard the TV being turned off and a few snatches of whispered hissing. Through her periphery she saw Wu and Dino approach, both spattered with blood; the former carrying a wrist injury. She nodded at it.

  “You okay?”

  “Scratch. Go on.”

  Without another word she rushed the first room, found it empty and double-checked. Closet, cupboard, under the bed. Outside the window. Then she was at the rear as Dino cleaned out the next room, one enemy incredibly fast asleep in the bed and overlooked by his pals. The moment Dino entered, Karin saw their enemy wake and reach for a nearby cache of weapons—bloodied cleaver, battered Glock and serrated knife were all available. Dino put the weapons forever out of his reach.

  Without pause, Wu took point, knowing at least one of the remaining two rooms held prepared enemies. It was the next and, as soon, as his bulk appeared near the doorway the gunfire started. The soldiers hit the deck, rolled and fired blindly inside. A man screamed and thudded to the floor. Another continued to fire. Wooden walls and frames splintered above their heads. Karin inched closer until she could see three-quarters of the room. Nothing visible, but then a pair of legs stepped into view. She perforated them, saw the rest of the body fall and finished it with a head shot.

  Dino scampered by, a little dangerously. A bullet shot by him. Still at least one active shooter in the room, then. Karin glared at Dino, then both soldiers slipped their guns around the doorframe and fired together. Screams erupted and then a final gurgle. Wu breached the gap, calling the all clear a few seconds later.

  He turned around, satisfied. “Ranch cleansed.”

  Karin nodded with grim determination. “They never
stood a chance.”

  Dino gasped. Karin turned to find him on his knees, head hanging low. At first she thought he’d been shot through the back and checked the hallway for enemies. Finding none she bent low and lifted his chin up.

  “I am sorry, Dino. I guess now you can grieve.”

  The sound of a large door being dragged open ground through the open window, clear now that all the sounds of entertainment had been stopped. Karin rushed over and stared down.

  “The garage,” she said. “One. I guess he’s going for a car.”

  “On my—” Wu began, but Karin put a hand out.

  “No. This one is mine, you watch Dino and start the clear up.”

  “Clear up?”

  “Fuck, man, don’t you see? The three of us are already fugitives. We can stay here. Become subsistent. Form a base. Make plans . . .”

  “Why would I see that? And what plans?”

  “Just get on with it.”

  Wu acquiesced without question, a good sign. Karin raced out of the room, checking her handgun and finding two bullets left in there. She scooped up a discarded M16, then turned, barreled down the stairs, and headed straight for the front door at breakneck speed. Once there, she came to an abrupt halt and checked the area.

  An engine roared in the garage. Karin ran into the garden and then toward the garage, covering the ground in a matter of seconds. M16 raised, she followed the line of its barrel. The garage door juddered as a gust of wind struck it; kicking up a whirl of dust. Karin came boldly into the center of the opening just as the engine revved.

  Smiled at the man behind the wheel, then sighted his skull along the top of her gun.

  Pulled the trigger and saw the blood explode.

  Ranch cleansed.

  Time to talk to Dino and Wu and see what the future held.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  Drake fell in the dirt, spinning too fast, and caught himself by slamming an arm onto the ground. When he looked up he found a man called Curtis and a woman called Desiree staring at him fixedly, hands on weapons.

  Trying not to laugh.

  Drake rose, shaking himself down. “Well, folks, that’s how not to do it. Lesson learned? Let’s continue.”

  They gave him a wry grin, barely understanding but understanding enough. The few spare guns they had brought had been given to the limited number of villagers who’d used one before—two. Alicia and Mai were imparting basic rules of hand-to-hand fighting to some of the other villagers; Alicia somewhat stumped on the art of using garden tools for weapons. Mai overcame it though, cutting the longer ones down and making the clumsier ones lighter and sharper. All around the village, Hayden oversaw major preparations to fend off an offensive.

  They were making traps to stop the mountain creatures before they even reached the streets.

  A trench was being dug—not deep—just enough to turn or break a limb, and being loosely covered over. These cannibals loved to use the darkness for an ally—let it be used against them, Hayden had said. Drake had experienced a rush of hope for these people when they responded enthusiastically, eager to get to work. Boulders were being lifted to the top of roofs, ready to be thrown on top of attackers. Four villagers proclaimed a proficiency in archery. One bow was found along with four arrows, causing some despondency, but then the villagers again showed their mettle and their desire to overcome as they set about creating rough weapons of their own.

  Torches were planted everywhere—a rudimentary system of lighting they’d agreed upon—so light would bathe the village even in the darkest watches of the night. Drake wondered if the spy was still among them or had fled the area. Those that remained certainly seemed motivated enough.

  He paused now, allowing Curtis and Desiree time to take a running, twisting run at a wooden target; teaching them to stay focused and readjust—always readjust. Watch your spaces. Watch your way ahead. Never stop planning.

  “Wipe the sweat from your hands before you start,” he told Desiree. “Any kind of slip could leave you lying on the ground.” He pointed at himself.

  She gave him a gap-toothed half-smile. “Then . . . chow . . . time,” she said, haltingly.

  Well, at least they still had strong spirit inside them. These villagers impressed him more by the hour, stepping up to the plate and fighting for it. The stress they’d been under these past few months would have cowed so many people, but not these. Hardy folk, hardy living—it bred toughness he’d rarely seen.

  And humility too. Curtis showed him once more, right then, what he’d been experiencing all over the village.

  They watched Desiree run the circuit.

  “I . . . thank . . .” The young man paused, thinking. “Thank . . . you . . . for all—” he spread his hands toward the village “—this. For all this.”

  “No worries,” Drake said gruffly. “Nobody could walk away from this.”

  He knew otherwise, and Curtis’s gaze told him the young man knew so too. “You . . . save . . . you save our lives.”

  Drake watched Desiree complete the circuit, getting better with every run. “We’re helping you save your own. Target practice next.”

  A deep voice came from behind. “Ah, excellent. Why don’t you set off running, Yorkie, and we’ll all see if we can hit you?”

  “Y’know, it was fairly quiet around here without you, Dahl.”

  “Well, the Vikings always did bring the noise.”

  “Oh, so you think you’re a Viking now? Like Erik the Red? Ivar the Boneless? What are you—Torsten the Twat?”

  Curtis and now Desiree were staring at them as if sensing conflict. Drake laughed it off and slapped the big Swede on the back. “You finished digging your pits?”

  “Yeah. I’m thinking of blocking some of the streets off so we can create a kill zone. Bring the creatures right where we want them and then—” He slammed a fist into his hand.

  “That might take longer than we have and if not done right could cause chaos.”

  “I know.” Dahl nodded. “But it would end the battle very quickly and deter them from attacking again if they lost dozens at once. Also, they wouldn’t be able to retrieve the bodies.”

  Drake gave him an agreeable shrug. The plan had merit. He asked Curtis and Desiree to take another run as Hayden walked toward them, followed by Kenzie and Smyth.

  Hayden held a cellphone up. “I’m waiting to speak to Secretary of Defense Crowe,” she said in a worried voice.

  “Why the hell did you ring her?” Drake had been dreading such a call since they arrived.

  “I didn’t, dumbass. Her office rings you, places you on hold and then puts you through.”

  “Can’t you drop it?” Dahl asked. “Flat battery. Gust of wind. Use your imagination.”

  “I could jam it down your throat.”

  Kenzie skipped over to Dahl’s side. “And you thought they’d missed you, baby.”

  Drake did a double-take. “That’s one ugly looking baby, love.”

  Dahl gave them both a warning glare. Hayden turned away slightly and began to speak. “Hello, Madam Secretary. Yes, we’re there now following some promising leads.”

  Drake watched her body language, seeing the tension, the worry. If they were called back to DC . . . sent somewhere else in the world . . .

  “Now?”

  The sudden, snapped word grabbed all of their attention. A few villagers wandered up, perhaps sensing the anxiety.

  “Madam Secretary, we’re close to ending this. I realize we’re operating outside—”

  Drake let out a long breath, letting his eyes linger on the houses and streets of the village only they could defend.

  “It’s one of the biggest unsolved mysteries of all time,” Hayden pressed. “Mostly, I guess, because we know the gold really existed. Dahl and Kenzie just returned from Europe with a solid lead. It will just take a few days.”

  They were hoping that the creatures would attack again tonight so that they could weaken them significantly; giving a retal
iatory attack on the chateau every chance of succeeding. Drake leaned forward as Hayden listened to Crowe’s reply.

  A minute passed and then she ended the call without another word.

  “Shit.”

  “We’re heading out?” Smyth asked without emotion.

  Hayden pinched the bridge of her nose. “This thing in Egypt is just too big now. Escalating every day, she says.”

  “Horsemen?” Dahl asked. “Earth’s corners?”

  “Yeah, and I thought the bloody planet was round. We’ve been ordered to report back to DC, hand this off, and make plans for Egypt.”

  Drake swallowed as eight pairs of villagers’ eyes switched between him and Dahl and Hayden. “Bollocks.”

  The team made eye contact. Kinimaka, Yorgi, Alicia and Mai came up and listened as Hayden repeated herself. Nobody looked impressed. Drake felt an upsurge of sentiment, of empathy. Right from the beginning he’d harbored a feeling that they were in the right place at the right time. The villages of Kimbiri, Nuno and Quillabiri confirmed he was right, along with the farmsteads scattered all around. Right now, it felt like a giant hook was trying to tear him away from where he wanted to be.

  “If we skipped heading back to DC,” Kinimaka said. “And went straight to Egypt, that would save us a day or so.”

  “There is no question,” Mai said without moving. “That I am staying.”

  Hayden threw a much troubled expression at them. “I understand. I’m with you. But, as ever, we go where the trouble is worse. Where the threat’s deeper. And right now that’s not here.”

  “I will stay,” the Japanese woman said again.

  “And what if thousands then die in Egypt? Hundreds of thousands?”

  The dilemma ate at Drake. In dispassionate terms there was no right answer, but in real, human terms the solution was only too clear. And the other huge conundrum was the person in charge—the team ought to follow her lead.