The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake Book 10)

by David Leadbeater

  Job done, Webb exited the room, but before he did so he placed his lips so close to Lauren’s own he could almost taste them; her breath mingled with his own. It was enough.

  For now.

  More was to come and soon. Excited, he decided he wasn’t yet done for the night.

  Tyler Webb left the hospital and told his driver to head for home.

  “Theirs,” he said. “Not mine.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Alicia waited impatiently for Hibiki to move aside. Since Dahl and the Japanese cop dragged her into an elevator last night their situation had been getting more and more complicated. It wasn’t bloody easy being a prisoner. To escape the Yakuza crowd they had quickly moved away, melting into the din and chaos of it all. Hibiki had pressed the button to ascend and their fate was set. The higher floors were work areas, deserted, with plenty of places to hide and wait. Hibiki soon remembered the information he’d gleaned regarding Mai’s showcase trial and how they were even going to beam it over the TV. He decided the reality was they would broadcast it over an internal secure network for those unable to attend. By early morning he had identified that network and by the time Mai’s trial began he was watching the live feed.

  Alicia placed two fingers against his temple and pushed. “Shift over.”

  Dahl guarded the entrance to their obscure little office on the fourth floor. It was still early morning but the trio were gambling that the entire building’s workforce had been given the day off—the Yakuza wouldn’t want anything interfering with the legendary Mai Kitano’s final day of judgement.

  Alicia studied the video feed. The quality was low, the camera angle limited, but she could easily see there was no chance of a frontal assault.

  “Has to be a diversion,” she said. “But what and when? Best if we knew what Drake was planning.” She licked her lips. “What would Captain Jack do?”

  Hibiki, acquainted with her love of all things Depp, turned around. “Captain Jack Sparrow? Well, he wouldn’t go full frontal that’s for sure.”

  Alicia started. “Shit, now there’s an image.”

  “Diversion,” Dahl rumbled form the doorway. “Any idea how long Mai has?”

  “All day.” Hibiki sat back, thinking. “But after that? The hope is that they make this last for two days and we can figure something for tonight.”

  “Didn’t work too well for Chika,” Alicia pointed out. Mai’s sister lay crumpled on the stage, barely able to support her weight. Hibiki closed his eyes at Alicia’s words.

  “Hey, man,” she saw his anguish, “don’t worry. We’ll get ‘em out of there.”

  “Be quiet,” Dahl hissed, ducking low. The covert sound of a door opening reached Alicia’s ears and the soft padding of footfalls. Dahl sank even further and then slithered into the outer room, sliding among desks. Alicia left him to it. The Swede was one of those men she trusted to take care of business in the right and proper way.

  On screen Hikaru was ranting. Mai stood before the gathering, covered on all sides by men with weapons, but still managing to appear menacing. Alicia saw the bandage strapped to her stomach—such a wound would diminish the Sprite’s abilities for several weeks to come. A scuffle brought her attention around and she turned just in time to see Dahl hauling a small figure through the door.

  “Yogi.” She laughed. “Where the hell have you been? Delivering pizza?”

  The Russian thief shrugged away from Dahl’s grip. “It’s Yorgi. I googled Yogi few days ago and it is not flattering. Please . . . it is Yorgi.”

  “All right, Yogi. So what’s your story?”

  Dahl put himself back on watch. Hibiki stared at the screen, eyes unreadable. Yorgi sighed, a sound of grudging tolerance, and took a seat by her side.

  “Building was tough, walls ungiving. Took me longer than I thought to break in, da? Then I heard the anarchy. I hid, thinking to let it pass. Searched every floor . . .” he shrugged. “Here I am.”

  “No cameras up there?”

  “Not in office space or staircase, no.”

  Alicia waved his attention toward the screen. “So, we’re fucked. Any ideas?”

  Yorgi looked pleased to be included. He needn’t have been. Alicia regarded him as part of the team now, especially after his exploits in Paris. The thief was a thinker, a planner, and settled in to watch. He wouldn’t suggest anything until he was sure it would work.

  The hours passed. The foursome drank the last of their water, ate the last of their supplies. Nobody had thought to plan for an extended stay. Lunchtime came and went. A perfunctory Yakuza patrol scoured their floor, but made no real effort to check every office. All entries into the building would be secured and had been since last night. The guards had no reason to assume anyone else was already inside.

  Dahl eventually drifted back, casting eyes across the TV monitor. “Barring a foolish assault from Drake,” he said. “Which, of course we can’t rule out, it has to be tonight after they’re all resting. Let the trial play out today. We go in hard after midnight. We contact Drake then, and hopefully he’ll be ready with some kind of diversion. In addition we have Yorgi, not a fighter but we can use you to create a further distraction. Any questions?”

  Alicia stood up to stretch. The problem was Dahl’s idea, flawed and as uninspiring as a day at boarding school, matched her own. They couldn’t use the comms to liaise with the world outside yet because the Yakuza would probably spot the signal and realize somebody else was inside. They couldn’t use the office phones for the same reason and, this being a planned military-style strike, nobody had packed a cellphone. Hibiki continued to watch Mai’s trial, identifying members of the audience with distaste and, on occasion, with astonishment.

  “Yowza, we’ve been searching for that old man for years! Old boss, mean son of the Devil. I know an aristocrat who would pay ten million dollars for him.”

  “Yowza?” Alicia repeated sarcastically then, as Hibiki finished, “Which man?”

  The hours stretched like resistant elastic as the sun waxed and then waned in the skies, throwing its rays through the heatproof glass, dappling the wooden floors and the plaster ceilings. As the shadows began to stretch Hibiki called their attention to the monitor.

  “Something’s happening.”

  This was the moment of truth. All hopes were pinned on the Yakuza drawing out Mai’s show trial for one more night, but if they started showing signs of an early execution the soldiers were still prepared for a blitz attack.

  Hibiki turned the sound up a little.

  “And so we have it,” Hikaru was saying. “The gravest sins of Mai Kitano are those she committed against the Yakuza brotherhood. Our family has suffered all these years even though we did not know. In the police, the government, the military, the boardroom there were whisperings of our humiliation. Now . . . we should make a bloody example,” he paused and sneered. “Two bloody examples.”

  An old man rose from the front row, trembling as he leaned heavily against two knobby walking sticks. “Do you have anything to say, Mai Kitano?”

  Hibiki leaned forward. Dahl looked ready to burst into action. Mai, who had barely moved a muscle all day, now stretched her legs and arms. Weapons were steadied on all sides but she ignored them, holding the old man’s eyes.

  “They say a warrior deserves a good death. I am and always have been a warrior. My sister is a civilian and has nothing to do with this. Let her go and give me a good death. That is all I ask.”

  The old man looked a little surprised, perhaps expecting argument, rebuttal, or at least an appeal. Hibiki shook his head without realizing and even Alicia couldn’t quite put her finger on what the ex-ninja was playing at. Does she want to die? Is she trying to save Chika? She recalled the recent glitch that had inserted itself between Mai and Drake. Was this her confession and absolution all in one?

  “Chika Kitano,” Hikaru spoke up, “inserted herself into this building, into our midst, to rescue her sister. It is fitting that she receive the
same kind of justice.”

  The old man looked over at Mai, giving her the chance to speak.

  “She only came here to save me. Which one of you wouldn’t do the same to save your brother, your family?”

  “Should she even get an opinion?” asked a younger man in the front row, rubbing a balding head.

  Shouts rose, some for and some against. The old man tapped a stick gently on the floor. “We are not murderers. We are not heartless killers. Some would paint us so, but they are wrong. Mai Kitano—you were never going to walk away from this, of course you weren’t. The Yakuza would hunt you to the ends of the earth, non-stop, and with no lessening in resolve. It is a matter of honor.”

  Hibiki turned his head to look back at Alicia. “See what I mean. That’s why it’s imperative they don’t know the SPEAR team and I were ever here. I actually think the extra day’s wait has done us some good. The tunnel guards won’t even remember we were there tomorrow. The problem is . . .” he tailed off.

  Alicia didn’t need it explaining. “Mai and Chika. We save their asses and they’re gonna be Yak targets forever.”

  The old man had finished his spiel and looked to Chika. Mai’s sister stood off to the left, her hands tied, face crusted with dried blood. “I think,” the man said, “that they will die together. For her sins. Think on that, Mai Kitano, as you spend this night, your last, alone.” He spat on the floor. “Take them both away.”

  Mai then clearly saw no drawback in taking action. Alicia watched her lunge for the old man, splitting the air between them like a finely shot arrow. Her elbow came down on his nose, sending him reeling into the front row, her body then revolved three times, bringing her to Hikaru’s side. Alicia couldn’t hear what the Japanese woman said, but the man’s face went whiter than Alpine snow and his body flinched away. The guards rushed her, unable to use weapons because of the half-panicking human mass all around, but they were no strangers to unarmed combat. The Yakuza would have picked their best warriors to watch her. And Mai was wounded. Still, she caught Hikaru by the windpipe, two vice-like fingers squeezing together, and backhanded the first guard to arrive. He went down, gushing blood from his nose. Attendees scrambled away to either side, and those at her back tried to jump over their seats to get away. The second attacker skipped around her strike and kicked at her midriff. Mai breathed in, curving her body away from the attack, then coming down on the outstretched leg hard enough to break the ankle.

  Hibiki put his head in his hands. “She has no chance. And we can’t move. This is completely the wrong time.”

  Alicia knew how he felt. Her hands and feet moved unconsciously in time to Mai’s, almost like a car passenger sometimes imitates the driver; her breath caught in her throat. Dahl came over and cheered. Mai’s grip on Hikaru was absolute, unbreakable. The man who had captured and shot her—his eyes were rolling back in his head, his legs gone to jelly, body held up only by Mai’s incredible strength and agility. Another Yakuza guard accosted her and received an elbow to the mouth for his trouble. He doubled over, blood and teeth spraying. Mai’s lead foot smashed him in the same place again for good measure, achieving a high-pitched scream.

  “Stop! Stop!” The old man had recovered remarkably quickly, and was now waving one stick at her. “You will stop or we will kill you now!”

  “You just chose to kill my sister and I,” Mai returned calmly, the knuckles of her fingers that gripped Hikaru’s throat now turned white. “Do you expect a warrior to take it lying down?”

  “No, but you will desist immediately or we kill her now.” He pointed his stick at Chika. Instantly the guards stopped surrounding Mai, turned and focused their weapons on her sister. The only thing at Chika’s back was a thick red curtain. Mai pushed Hikaru away, the man only slightly more alive than dead.

  She held her hands above her head, wincing at the pain in her stomach. Alicia winced along with her. The old man shuffled to her side, ignoring the blood that flowed down his face.

  “Tomorrow, at dawn,” he said. “We will see how tough you are, Mai Kitano.”

  “And will my death be honorable?”

  “Do you want to fall upon a sword? Battle a group of men, one at a time? Pistols perhaps? I will decide overnight what your fate will be.” He wiped blood from his nose and flicked it onto the floor. “But whichever way it goes it will be hard. For both of you.” His stick finally stopped waving.

  Alicia rose and walked over to Dahl, stretching her limbs. “A few more hours and then we contact Drakey?”

  “Yes. He would expect an attack after midnight. This . . .” he hesitated. “Is not going to be our easiest offensive.”

  Alicia laughed at his tact. “You’re telling me. Dude, this could well be the hardest thing we’ve ever done.”

  “And the stupidest?”

  “Nah, not where family’s involved. It’s never stupid.”

  “I always thought you hated Mai.”

  Alicia looked away. “The thing about me, Dahl, is that you never know what I feel. You never will. That’s how I like to play it. Mai can be a bitch. So can I. And so can you. Does that make us any less valuable to the team?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then get yer lube ready, Torsty, ‘cause where we’re going—it’s gonna be tight.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  After midnight the team made their final preparations, knowing nothing could be gained from waiting any longer. Indeed, if there was any kind of celebration this night its racket would help mask their rescue attempt. Dahl led them all to the elevators and then switched the comms signal back on.

  “Drake? You there?”

  “Dahl? Pal, are you a voice for sore ears. What’s going on in there?”

  “Mai and Chika both okay. It’s all about the speed now, Drake. Are you ready?”

  “I have a way of escaping Kobe. Probably.”

  “It doesn’t involve fast cars does it?” Alicia snatched a line. “ ‘Cause I wasn’t even in the last bloody race and I’m already bored hearing about it.”

  Dahl ignored her as he opened the stairwell door. “Can you help break us out the front, in about twenty?”

  “Not a problem. I have a plan B, C and D ready to go.”

  “Good. Then keep a comms silence until you hear from me.”

  “On my way.”

  Alicia followed Dahl into the stairwell, Hibiki at her back. All three of them slipped on masks that Yorgi had provided. Yorgi had already been sent on his mission and was now descending in the elevator, looking to start a small fire on each floor. The office behind them was filling with smoke, courtesy of chemicals and cloths found in a cleaning cupboard and a lighter found in a desk drawer. Alicia heard the door swing shut above them just as the sprinkler system went off. As one, they rushed down the stairs, heading for the lobby where they would have to switch stairwells to access the lower levels. Hibiki and Dahl carried their weapons, but Alicia was empty-handed.

  For now.

  She moved fast behind Dahl as the Swede pushed through the final door, exiting out into a corridor that led to the lobby. Thirty feet ahead the entrance area gleamed in semi-darkness and beyond that the windows and glass doors sparkled with random lights.

  “Hope they’re not all downstairs,” she whispered.

  Dahl stopped beside a new elevator bank, recalling the blueprints, and pushed at the adjacent stairwell door. As half-expected, it was locked, even today with no day staff around. Dahl aimed his gun.

  “Stand back. This is where the fun starts.”

  He shot out the keypad and the vision panel but still the door only rattled in its frame. “Damn.”

  “What did you think, genius? Breaking its keypad would destroy the lock?” Alicia watched the lobby as a shout went up.

  Dahl swore loudly, put his shoulder down and charged the door. Thankfully it exploded off its framework, shattered timber flying everywhere and clattered down the stairs.

  “Could you make a bit more noise next time
?” Alicia patted his arm.

  “Next time?” Dahl grunted. “I’ll throw you through it.”

  Down three more levels they went, hitting the lowest at a run, then slowing as they reached a carpeted corridor with heavy doors to both sides, evidently leading to the cells where Chika found Mai earlier. No doubt she now occupied one herself. Alicia saw Hibiki hesitate, taking a deep breath before continuing. The cop had more on the line down here than any of them.

  “Keep moving,” she said helpfully. “Can’t save ‘em standing with your dick in your hand.”

  Dahl pressed on, checking the first whilst Alicia lifted the metal flap of the second. Empty. It was then that, further down the corridor, she heard excited murmurings and expressions of disbelief. Somebody up there had gotten wind of something.

  Knowing their luck was about to run out, Alicia checked the second and third doors on her side of the corridor. Men occupied two of the rooms—shirtless, pantless, bloodied and bruised. They were wretched figures, heads hung in defeat, not even bothering to acknowledge the sound. Behind her Dahl grunted that he’d found Mai. At that moment Alicia opened the viewing panel of the last door and set eyes on Chika.

  “Bloody hell.”

  Mai’s sister was chained to the wall, arms above her head, legs together. Her head hung and her black hair was draped across it. New discolorations and bloody weals covered the exposed flesh across her collarbone, arms and below the knees. She moved aside for Hibiki and turned to Dahl.

  “Keys.”

  “On it.”

  The Swede marched toward the sound of voices, steadying his gun. He paused to one side of an open doorframe, giving Alicia chance to make ready.

  “Now.”

  Together they peered around, prepared for anything. What they saw was a small surveillance room—rows of TV monitors and chairs, some desks, and a bunch of men crowded around just two screens. A low table and wall off to the right-hand side was practically festooned with pain-dispensing instruments from blades and electrical-prods to hammers and whips, all heaped together along with their guns. Alicia noted the blood still dripping from one of the leather handles and embraced her sudden rage. Most of the men were jabbering away and gesticulating wildly, trying to get some point across, others were sat staring and letting their cohorts rant, but every one of them had their backs to the door.