Alec brought the submersible higher and higher, and Cassidy moved into place, ready to twist the wheel and open the hatch the moment the vessel surfaced. Another minute and Alec nodded at her. Cassidy opened the hatch carefully, pushing it upward until daylight streamed into the metal chamber.
“It’s not dry land,” she said. “But it’s better than the bottom of the sea.”
Bodie watched as her muscles bulged, the cords under her skin standing out as she climbed into open air and the shadows cast by the ship. He was right behind her, the two crouching on the sub’s unsound curved metal surface. The first thing he heard was yelling, then laughing. A gunshot rang out. More laughing. Jemma joined them and the three crept vigilantly toward the rear of the vessel and the stern of the boat, where it floated low, probably due to the weighty cranes bolted to its rear deck. Due to the height of the submersible, they were able to leap to the side of the ship, where they hung for a moment before pulling themselves aboard.
More gunfire rattled overhead—automatic this time. A man fell over the top rail, tumbling from the highest deck. Bodie turned away as he landed a few meters to their left.
Without pause, Cassidy ran over and checked the body. Bodie recognized one of the Bratva soldiers. Cassidy shook her head and looked for any weapons. Her expression said it all.
Nothing.
They ducked for cover, running parallel to the side of the ship and forward. Bodie found an open door and checked inside. It was clear, but revealed nothing except a rickety, rusted ladder leading to the second deck. Bodie took his time while Cassidy watched their rear. He emerged behind a wide, white-painted stanchion that supported a small gantry crane. All the commotion now seemed to be coming from the front deck. Bodie waited, not liking it, the thief’s instinct taking over. Spotting the way forward, he quickly signaled the other two to join him.
“See there? Steps leading up to the control room? If we can sneak inside we can see what’s going on.”
The coast was clear, all the noise emanating from beyond the bridge. Bodie led the way, pausing after each step, and soon they were easing open the rear door and ducking inside.
A thin man with a ponytail whipped his head around. Bodie saw the firearm dangling off his shoulder and darted in. The man registered surprise and reached for the gun, but Bodie slammed him off his feet, staggering as he did so. Both went down. The man retained the gun, scrabbling to bring it to bear. Bodie fell awkwardly and couldn’t react in time.
Cassidy picked up a metal chair and slammed the legs hard into the man’s face. Immediately, all struggle stopped. She reached out to help Bodie up.
“That’s how you do it, Flash.”
Bodie gave her a grin, and then crept over to the broad window that looked out from the control room across the front deck and over the ship’s prow.
“It’s worse than I thought.”
“A terrible understatement.” Cassidy groaned.
Jemma’s sharp intake of breath was enough. They saw a large group gathered on the triangular deck. The bulk of it was younger men wearing T-shirts and jeans and carrying semiautos, currently being held next to their thighs as they stood watching. Others were older, more important-looking, and standing closer to the man who appeared to be in charge.
Viktor Davydov.
Bodie gently cracked a window so they could hear what was passing among the rough crowd.
At the center of the loose circle were Heidi and Cross, Lucie and Gunn, kneeling alongside the ship’s captain and other members of the crew. The Bratva fighters who’d accompanied them were there too.
All but Yasmine and Hakim.
The small crane at the ship’s prow had some adornments—Yasmine and Hakim, chained to the uprights with cuffs and rope, both with arms stretched up high and faces bloodied. They were struggling to remain on tiptoes, their bodies swaying a little.
“You think I didn’t know?” Viktor’s voice came across as such a shriek Bodie imagined him spraying spittle. “You two? Fucking in private and then fucking me over? You think you’re clever?”
He aimed a handgun at them and fired. Bodie assumed the bullet passed between them because nobody screamed in pain.
“I knew you were Interpol! I knew. It pleased me to corrupt you, to taint you, to watch you suffer in all those little ways. Turning the screw!” As he cried out the last word he fired again. Both Yasmine and Hakim flinched, their bodies swinging. Behind Viktor, several men stood guard, guns trained on the captives, but even from here Bodie could see Cross and Heidi tensing as if preparing to attack.
“This is gonna go so bad,” he whispered. “Cross knows and Heidi is experienced enough to know that they’re not walking out of this. Whatever happens, they’ll all be shot.”
“And I know where Eli’s head is,” Cassidy breathed.
“Right there on his shoulders,” Jemma said. “Where we want it to stay.”
Bodie searched for a plan. They had one semiautomatic and a couple of grenades that Ponytail had been carrying. It would have to be enough. He studied his companions and knew he’d have to make a hard decision.
“I need Cassidy with me,” he said, and then explained his plan.
“I’ll do it,” Jemma said, nodding. “For family, right?”
For our family.
Bodie and Cassidy exited, taking a circular staircase down. The clock was ticking. Thirty seconds—that was game time, which he hoped wouldn’t be too long and too late for Yasmine and Hakim.
“A week ago, I was going to kill you.” Viktor leaned forward, leering at his captives and spitting. “Slowly. Painfully. And then grind your flesh and bones into my garden. But this . . .” He gestured all around. “This came up, and I thank you. I am pleased to have waited, for now . . . now I can kill you knowing that you led us to Atlantis.”
This time he aimed his gun, sighting down the barrel, and started to pull the trigger.
“Who?” Hakim shouted. “Please, Viktor, who betrayed us?”
Maybe he was playing for time, maybe he was just desperate, but Bodie thanked the bald man for the question. The countdown was almost up.
“Who betrayed you? Nobody here on their knees. They are all too dumb to see, and that’s why they will die here too. Who betrayed you? It was the Frenchman. Lucien, of course.”
“Our boss?” Hakim sounded incredulous. “I don’t believe you.”
Viktor shrugged. “It does not matter, but why would I lie? Lucien has been whoring in every pocket for a decade. He’s my boss, your boss, and a double agent whenever it suits. His power . . . his global reach, gives him immunity.”
Yasmine had stayed quiet until now. Bodie saw the pain on her face, the hurt in her eyes. “Eli!” she shouted. “Eli! I never stopped—”
Then Jemma did her job in the control room, changing what everyone thought was about to happen.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The control room exploded. Gouts of fire surged through broken windows as glass shattered onto the deck in a lethal, glittering rain. A moment later, a hail of gunfire rang out, bullets hammering into the deck’s machinery and railings. This was followed by a second explosion on the other side of the ship, behind the control room, that again sent up an eruption of flame and smashed mechanical parts.
Bodie had hoped the new Bratva arrivals would react instinctively rather than with forethought, which is exactly what happened. Viktor spun and screamed an order. Men peeled away, heading to the sources of the fresh trouble. Bodie waited for a clear deck in front and then made his move.
He ran straight for the captives with Cassidy at his side. At first, their appearance was lost in the general upheaval. Bodie caught Heidi’s eye. The CIA agent reacted instantly, berating the guards and drawing their attention. Bodie ran into one, elbow first, sending him tumbling, and grabbed his weapon. Cassidy felled another, and then Heidi was up and grappling with a third. Bodie turned the gun on more guards and then went down to one knee as the captured Bratva fighters surged to life. Cross, he saw, ha
d started moving toward Yasmine, probably intent on her safety over all else.
Viktor stared in pure anger, seemingly unable to believe his speech and executions had been interrupted. Bodie saw his lips move but couldn’t read the words. The half-dozen men guarding him raised their weapons as the freed Moroccans attacked.
Bodie fired, felling one of the guards. Viktor ignored it all, turning his back with disdain and concentrating once again on Yasmine. Viktor’s five remaining guards took on the Moroccans, bullets flying and then bodies crunching as the dead littered the deck.
Cassidy rolled with her opponent, smashing him on the side of the head until he went limp. She saw Cross relentlessly beat down one of Davydov’s men, then immediately look toward Yasmine.
“I won’t let you die!”
A blow landed on the older man’s right side, one he hadn’t seen coming. Cross was going to die unless he focused on things besides Yasmine. Cassidy saved him, then gave him a punch of her own.
“Get with it, granddad!”
She rose, evaluating her surroundings. She’d counted eight men rushing off to deal with the distractions Jemma had set, and figured they had maybe a minute before at least some of those would return. The surviving rebel Bratva were fighting a losing battle against Viktor’s guards, but now the ship’s crew were running to aid them.
Bodie grabbed the captain. “Arm your men.” He threw the man a weapon. “Watch our backs when the others return. We’re going after Viktor!”
The remaining crew hesitantly grabbed weapons, but the captain fought to rally them, pointing out that fighting and winning was the only way they’d ever see their families again. Some scrambled for cover. Others knelt, aimed, and waited. Bodie felt sure Jemma would be okay since they’d told her to find somewhere safe to hide.
Viktor raged at Yasmine and Hakim. His cracked, frenzied voice brought Cross’s head up quickly, snatching his attention.
“Eat my food, drink my wine, try my drugs!” The gun came up, leveled at Hakim. “This is my answer to you!”
“No!” Cross yelled, his face twisted with pain.
Viktor squeezed the trigger, and the bullet tore through Hakim’s chest. Yasmine screamed in distress. Cross, still too far away, scrambled across two dead bodies to stop what was happening. Bodie saw Hakim spinning away from Viktor, blood gushing from his wound. Viktor fired once more, the second bullet ending the bald man’s life. He raised his gun.
“And one more traitor must die.”
Too slow. They were all too slow.
Viktor realigned the pistol, leveled it at Yasmine’s throat, and pulled the trigger.
Cross threw himself at Viktor. Bodie fired but Viktor was no longer there. It took him a moment to realize that the Bratva boss had been distracted by Cross’s attack, sent staggering sideways but managing to shrug the thief away. Yasmine still lived, swinging slightly, screaming, spattered with Hakim’s blood, and losing some of her own where Viktor’s askew bullet had torn a ragged wound in her left arm.
Viktor bludgeoned Cross with the empty weapon, striking him around the temple and ear. Cross slumped and Viktor wriggled away, leaving the thief to crawl desperately after him. Viktor ran right up to Yasmine, drawing a wicked blade as he came close.
Cassidy went down to one knee, sighted Yasmine herself, and then elevated the barrel one meter higher. Two shots severed the chains and sent her figure crashing to the ground. In his haste, Viktor stumbled over her torso, sprawling headfirst.
Bodie nodded his satisfaction as he dashed in, but Viktor was faster than he could have imagined. Still holding the knife, he slashed at Yasmine’s unprotected throat.
She couldn’t move, muscles spent from hanging upright for so long. Bodie heard an outburst of gunfire behind as he moved in. The first wave of guards had returned.
It was Cross who saved Yasmine, coming just close enough to drag Viktor away by the leg and deflect the Bratva boss’s swing. Even so, the knife nicked Yasmine, causing her eyes to open wide and a burst of adrenaline to fire her veins. She folded in on herself, bleeding from two wounds. Viktor leapt in again, landing on her and furiously gripping her arms as he tried to avenge her betrayal.
In a chaotic second, he raised the knife. It flashed down at her throat, but Cross was there, intervening in the only way possible, striking Viktor from the side and grabbing the descending wrist to wrench it upward. Viktor rolled off Yasmine and pulled Cross over her, their two bodies together again at last, their eyes meeting briefly and poignantly.
Then Viktor thrust the knife back toward Yasmine, turning at the last instant and plunging the blade up to the hilt into the side of Cross’s neck.
Yasmine screamed, a torn, desperate sound that resounded through the chaos of the battle.
Bodie arrived and kicked Viktor in the ribs so hard that the cracks were audible. He saw Yasmine and then Cross and couldn’t comprehend it, not at first. Staying upright, though, was a risky move at best.
Bullets riddled the air.
Cassidy, Heidi, and Gunn knelt together, sheltered behind a lifeboat davit that kept getting speckled with gunfire. Lucie lay behind them, having somehow wedged her body beneath the huge piece of steel until she could no longer move. To their credit, the ship’s crew had surprised Viktor’s returning fighters and all but wiped them out in the first minute. Only two lone snipers remained. Cassidy worried for Jemma, but knew in her heart the girl would have found some good cover. It was just a matter now of waiting for the well-armed crew to flush the last of Viktor’s goons out.
Bodie knelt over Viktor and dealt him a hard blow to the head, making sure the mafia boss was at least bordering on comatose before checking on Cross and Yasmine.
Pure shock made mush of every bone in his body. He could barely stand. The deck rose up to strike his knees before he realized that he’d dropped down as if he’d been shot dead. Cross lay in front of him, bleeding out, eyes flitting to and fro and mouth moving, but no words coming out.
“Help!” Bodie screamed. “Oh God, help me!”
The knife moved as Cross tried to speak, but pain registered so badly in his eyes that Bodie almost turned away. In that moment he saw it, saw there was no help for his greatest friend, and simply reached out to take hold of the man’s hand.
“I’m here. I’m here for you.”
Yasmine laid a hand on Cross’s heaving chest. “Oh, Eli.”
Bodie leaned forward to whisper into Cross’s ear. “You know what we say—family is a sense of belonging. And nobody ever belonged more to my family . . . than you.”
Bodie registered the two grenades before he actually saw them. Two tumbling black objects that signaled mortal danger inside the deep, intuitive recesses of his mind. There wasn’t time to pick both objects up and throw them into the sea, but there was just enough time to roll Viktor’s broken body over them.
He grabbed the Bratva boss and threw him across the grenades.
Yasmine sensed the danger too, but with her eyes locked with Cross’s, she did not move a muscle, choosing to spend his and perhaps her last moments in the place where they should always have been.
“Please don’t leave me. I loved you so much,” she said, and then the bombs went off, two loud explosions. Bodie flung himself aside, traumatized to the core. Yasmine then laid her head over Cross’s chest and, teary-eyed, met Bodie’s gaze.
She wept. Bodie punched the ship’s deck in anger before crawling over and taking just a moment to watch as Viktor’s guards gave up their fight and came out with hands high and heads down. The crew surrounded them and bound them. Cassidy, Heidi, and Gunn were loping across the deck.
“Cross?” Cassidy asked first.
Bodie opened his mouth but the answer choked in his throat. He reached Cross’s inert body and saw the lifeless eyes.
“Oh my friend, what have you done?”
Yasmine reached for him and he held her hand. Cassidy was at his back, making strangled noises of misery. Heidi was on her knees and Gunn w
as trying to catch a breath. They stayed like that for some time, scoured by the sea breeze and rocked by the steady waves.
In time, Heidi answered a question Bodie could not bring himself to ask.
“Don’t worry, Jemma is safe, inside that small deck on top of the control room. Lucie is stuck beneath a lifeboat. I’ll help her out . . . eventually.”
Bodie slowly became aware of the cold breeze, the waning skies, and the uncontrollable thumping of his heart. “Did we win?”
“No.” Cassidy surveyed the dead. “But we are still alive.”
Bodie sensed a change in Yasmine’s ragged breathing and let go of her hand so that she could sit up. When he did, he stared in sorrow at Cross’s body and wondered aloud if they deserved his sacrifice.
“We can only try to live up to it,” he said. “Those who die are never truly gone unless we let their memories fade from our head and our hearts. I won’t let that happen, Eli. I’m sure none of us will. You were the best of friends, mate.”
“He sacrificed himself for you.” Cassidy was staring at Yasmine, a hard edge to her gaze.
“But I . . . I’m so, so sorry.”
A chopper approached from the rolling horizon. Bodie sighed as he saw it. “Now what?”
“Don’t worry.” Heidi held up her hands and shouted that everyone should stand down. “Don’t worry, it’s the CIA.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
A few days later, the team was on a plane, en route back to the United States with Yasmine on board, a protective detail around them, and a Lockheed Martin F-35 shadowing them through the skies.
“You really think we’re this vulnerable?” Bodie asked tiredly.
“No, buddy.” Heidi smiled briefly at him. “I think your story about the Bratva, their subsequent attack on Jack Pantera, and their latest threat is . . . what would you say . . . a load of bollocks?”
“And bollocks it is,” Bodie said. “They would never try something in the air.”
Heidi opened her mouth and then clamped it shut. In the end, she settled for a whisper. “And there I was thinking the news often reports mysterious plane crashes and disappearances.”
The Atlantis Cipher (The Relic Hunters Book 2) Page 25
