The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake Book 10)

by David Leadbeater

  Alicia saw instantly the object of their interest—a bank of cameras had been tasked to chase the outbreak of fires above and now, finally, one of them had spotted Yorgi.

  A man reached out for a walkie, his eyes flicking backwards.

  “Hey!”

  Alicia grabbed a gun and fired, hitting his arm and then his chest, knowing he would never hurt anyone again. Dahl put three double-taps into a trio of heads and that left just one. Alicia saw a blade flash and dodged as the weapon skimmed by her face. Then she leveled her gun.

  “Give me the keys and I’ll make it quick.”

  It was the only language this Yakuza guard would understand. There would be no bargaining with them. His eyes flicked to a metal cabinet. Alicia never knew whether it was a voluntary gesture because a moment later he was dead, cheek blown away by Dai Hibiki.

  “Torturing bastards.” Tears stood out in his eyes. Alicia rushed over to the cabinet and yanked it open.

  “We must hurry,” Dahl said. “They have hundreds of guards inside this building and they can bring every last one down upon us.”

  Alicia grasped a single key and also a bunch attached to a large iron ring, figuring the first was a master for the doors and the second for the chains. She turned and ran back to Chika’s door, unlocking it and throwing Dahl the single key. Hibiki was at her heels. Now, Chika’s head whipped up, the abject fear in her eyes followed swiftly by confusion. Alicia whipped the mask up and then down at super speed.

  “Al . . . Alicia? Dai!”

  Hibiki ran to her and leaned in, helping to take the weight off her chained wrists. Alicia reached up and tried several keys before finding one that turned. The chains rattled down as Chika’s hands came free and she stumbled into Hibiki.

  “Hold on,” he whispered. “Just hold on. We got you.”

  Alicia raced across the hall, throwing the key ring at Dahl. Mai was already alert and asking about Chika. “She’s good,” Alicia said. “On her way now.”

  Dahl helped Mai out of the chains then stepped back. “Are you able to fight?”

  “I’ll kill them all if I have to.”

  “Good, because we’re going to have to go through every one of them if we want to get out of here.”

  Alicia nodded toward Mai’s stomach. “How bad is it?”

  “Just a bullet wound. I can work around it.”

  Chika stumbled into the cell, saw Mai and ran over. The two sisters embraced whilst Mai eyeballed Hibiki over her shaking sister’s shoulder.

  “We have a lot to talk about, Dai Hibiki.”

  The cop winced, practically shuddering. “Yeah, let’s get out of this hellhole first though, before you start chopping things off.”

  Alicia led them back into the corridor and at a fast sprint to the stairwell. “Wait.” Dahl spoke up, the beginning of a grin twisting both sides of his lips. “How about taking the elevator? It’s faster and it’ll give them one hell of a surprise.”

  Alicia drew in a sharp breath. “Risky.”

  “It will put us nearer the exit.”

  Alicia quickly broke comms silence. “Outside? You ready? Do you have the Russian?”

  Drake replied. “I’m outside. He’s here and we’re raring to go.”

  “We’re coming right now,” she said. “And it’s gonna be fucking noisy.”

  “Noisier the better. Just do it.”

  “Buckle up, soldier boy,” Dahl said. “ ‘Cause the Yakuza are about to be taught a hard lesson and they’re gonna be plenty pissed.”

  “Bring it, nancy boy. I’m here to help.”

  Dahl pressed the button for the elevator, took a breath, prepped his weapon and then looked around.

  “Ready?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Alicia was armed in every way possible as the elevator doors opened out onto a jam-packed lobby. Pistols, knives, spare ammo, electrical prod, even one of the dead torturers’ bloody hammers. Her compatriots were similarly armed, fired up, and ready to wade through blood to make their escape.

  Fucking good job, Alicia thought as the path to freedom greeted her.

  Yakuza were everywhere, from those groups milling about and looking bored to those taking charge to others who rushed around carrying out tasks. The opening doors sent many pairs of eyes flicking in their direction.

  Dahl was a mountain of dependable violence. The instant their presence was noted he opened fire and waded into the mob, shooting with one hand, crushing with the other, using his feet to further hinder those who fell. The crowd would have closed around him but it was Mai who came next and she had a score to settle. With lithe movements she used knives to slice and carve her way in Dahl’s wake and ribbons of blood painted a trail through the air behind her. As if that wasn’t enough, she was followed by Alicia, and the Englishwoman was more than angry. Enraged by the terrible, but matter-of-fact room below she wanted to crush bones. The first Yakuza ended up with a flattened nose and shattered teeth, the second a bullet wound in the stomach. The third ran on to her knife but she didn’t end it there, dragging the blade sideways. They came from all sides, a screaming throng, and they hit hard, but never had they encountered foes like this.

  Blood slicked the floor and painted nearby surfaces. Hibiki and Chika stepped into the open, both armed with handguns, and picked off aggressors who stood between them and the glass exit door. Alicia emptied her magazine into two more Yakuza, then spun with her knife, a sinuous target, cutting flesh as she inserted a fresh mag almost with one hand. Dahl met resistance ahead, the sheer mass of their enemies slowing him down. Still, he fought just as hard, never still, a twisting, turning wedge of pure muscle, violence and sheer elegance that defied belief. Weapons clattered to the floor; screaming men fell sideways. Mai and Alicia collected the enemy weapons when they had to, their sudden movements only adding to their evasiveness. When a Yakuza grabbed one of the women around the neck or the waist, the other taught him the error of his ways. At first, Alicia saw no difference in how Mai fought, the bullet wound not hindering her, but as the battle went on and they took more and more knocks, the Japanese Ninja began to slow down.

  Anyone else would be on their knees by now, but not Mai. In addition to a lifetime of experience and training she now had vengeance in her heart, and hatred, and fear for the safety of her sister. As she glided by Alicia saw her wound had torn. Blood seeped. Mai fought even harder.

  *

  Drake could barely believe his eyes. Never had he seen anything like it a—a lobby so crowded, a battle so violent, men and women so determined and motivated. He sat astride a red Ducati, deep in shadow, with three more fast bikes behind him, currently being watched by Yorgi and Grace. The streets of Kobe that he planned to use were narrow and twisting and easy to get lost in—the bikes were perfect.

  And Alicia mentioned that thing about car chases . . .

  This should piss her off nicely then. But now, as he stared, a man used to adventure, war and death, but still awed and shocked at the nightmare vision before him. A simple question jabbed at him—how were they going to get out of there alive?

  *

  Alicia rammed in her third mag. One knife had been torn from her grip by a passing ribcage and now she employed a second. A fist slammed against the bridge of her nose but she barely felt the blow; adrenalin invigorated her every muscle and sinew, and acted as a pain killer.

  Dahl smashed fists, elbows and knees into assailants before her but the crowd was just too thick, bodies fell and had nowhere to go. And whilst their demise caused their brothers intense problems it also hampered the SPEAR team.

  Mai strove in a different direction, cutting a path to the right of the doors. Alicia sidestepped in her wake, jabbing her elbow into three noses with three steps, using her other hand to deliver three knife strikes.

  The blade twisted from her hands.

  She covered the momentary loss with the gun, aiming for hearts, necks and heads, wondering who these men imagined they might be beneath these black
blank masks. But then they were gangsters. They probably didn’t think that way. Alicia withdrew the electrical prod and pressed the button, making it fizz against several adversaries and seeing them twist away in anguish. The prod was going to be a good weapon whilst it lasted then, enabling her to incapacitate enemies faster than she could with a gun and its limited supply of ammo. She jabbed to left and right, faster and faster, and the path opened up.

  Hibiki and Chika watched their backs, the latter battered and bruised but determined to survive. What she lacked in skill she made up for in resolve. Hibiki protected her as best he could, whilst also watching out for himself. He had been given the most weapons, lacking the highly tuned skill of the SPEAR individuals, and he put them to good use, but even he was running low on ammo.

  The great glass doors loomed in their sights.

  Dahl growled and launched into a huge final effort. Alicia prodded and kicked, and loosed bullets. Mai, crying out in pain, twisted her body several different ways to rain blows upon her enemies, sometimes in the air, sometimes falling to the floor, using one man to gain momentum enough to fell the next, twisting their limbs together so that each hindered the other, forcing their bodies into unnatural angles. Every move was instantly measured to produce maximum harm and maximum interference. Alicia, at her side, paused between electrical charges.

  “Little Sprite, you’re a fuckin’ death machine.”

  Mai’s quick glare reminded her of the Japanese woman’s inner turmoil and made her wince. Shit, Myles, aren’t you the tactful one?

  Since when did she even care though? Alicia was here for the good of the team, showing support for the men and women whom she regarded as family—not just for one person.

  And if she was that person sure wasn’t Mai Kitano.

  Brawling Yakuza then took every ounce of her concentration as they barreled in from all sides. The electric prod disabled three before it too was torn from her fingers, making her cry out in frustration. She took a blow to the ribs. Some fool fired his weapon in the surrounding melee, taking out his own comrade, but the bullet passed straight through flesh and bone and came dangerously close to Alicia. A baseball bat, such a clumsy and surprising weapon but not out of place at this moment in time, slashed down toward her. She moved fast, hitting men to her left, and the bat glanced off her shoulder. Still, the pain was intense. Unable to help herself she flung her last knife, taking the bat-wielder out of play.

  Weaponless, she turned to hand-to-hand combat.

  Dahl had been in that situation a while now. The big Swede blocked and slammed and barged. The noise of screaming, yelled orders and battle cries that curdled the air around him was like nothing Alicia had ever heard. Faces kept appearing all around her, warped by hatred and cruel intentions, striving to join the battle. Their eagerness blunted much of their effectiveness. Desperation set in among the Yakuza as the few insurgents and the legendary Mai Kitano herself, moved closer and closer to the exit.

  Thus, came a desperate measure—machine guns.

  Alicia heard the screams, saw the parting of the throng to her left, saw Yakuza throwing their own brothers in all directions to help clear a path. Dahl nipped into the space and the rest followed, the exit doors suddenly looming above them. Many Yakuza were slow in responding to their superiors, so caught up in battle rage, but the shouts continued and the machine-gun toting men began to find a way through. Mai threw her last knife, its blade thunking into one’s forehead, but still four remained.

  Alicia had saved bullets for the glass door, as she hoped had the others. But could they reach them in time? Men still assaulted her from the right, but she could only afford them half her attention as the machine guns were raised.

  The Yakuza are risking hitting their own men.

  It’s not gonna stop them.

  Concentration carved their features into hard relief as they lined the insurgents up in their sights.

  Alicia saw Dahl start to run at them. It was a desperate measure. No way were they all going to come out of this one alive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Alicia lived the next few minutes in an agony of slow motion, positive she was about to see her own death and worse, the deaths of her friends, at the hands of these gangsters. Dahl grew optimistically close to the gunmen; Mai cleared the final stragglers away from the door; Hibiki and Chika were as close as they’d ever been; Alicia threw a facially tattooed man over her shoulders and into his brethren.

  Keep fighting. Just . . . keep . . . fighting.

  But they were out of time. Yakuza bosses were standing up on the lobby’s reception desk, aghast at the bloody mayhem but still calling for deaths. Mai Kitano’s last stand would be long remembered. The tales would be even more legendary once they surfaced, and surface they would.

  “Kill them! Do it! Do it!” a man cried.

  Yakuza all around Alicia scrambled aside or fell away. Dahl was a finger-length away from the first gun barrel when its owner was ready to fire. Then came the horrible instant of pure disappointment.

  We failed . . .

  The first crash was loud enough to disrupt everything—all eyes and focus switched to the front entrance. Something huge hit the glass very hard and even Alicia felt alarm. Her first wild reaction was to remember the old Godzilla movie and how the beast had trashed Tokyo. Hairs rose along her spine. But then reality checked in and she saw somebody had driven a small truck into one of the stanchions that supported the front of the building.

  Jarring it.

  Next came a hail of gunfire, aimed wild and high into the windows, and the crunching impact of another vehicle, this time into the reinforced glass frontage. Alicia saw cracks appear in the windows, spider-webbing across their entire surface. The bullets did the rest, sending the overlarge shattered panes crashing down like rolling torrents of lethal water. Alicia saw an opportunity and gripped it by the scruff of the neck—grabbing Hibiki and Chika, lowering her head, and charging through the piles of fragmented glass. Her feet slipped and skidded out from under her but she kept her balance. The heaps shifted and slewed but she jumped from one to the next, feeling a little like a fell-runner. If Chika stumbled, Hibiki steadied her and Alicia steadied him. More gunfire slammed into the building, loud and deadly, aimed high but the Yakuza couldn’t be certain about that. They fell away, shocked and distraught at being assaulted on their own turf, most still in a state of disbelief, some beyond their limits and just trying to stay alive.

  Of course they had never come up against anything like the SPEAR team before. Even half of it.

  Dahl wrenched a machine gun free and sprayed the men in his vicinity. Mai grabbed his shoulder and urged him out of there. Still some bullets whizzed past him. Still a man attacked from his side waving a machete. Dahl let the huge blade slice a millimeter past his right ear, ramming the wielder’s face with the full force of his shoulder. Blood sprayed his back. Machete Man went down, twitching.

  Alicia felt the outside air wafting around her face, cooling her skin. Yorgi struggled to rise off to her left, having jarred his ankle as he jumped out of the second vehicle that had struck the front of the Yakuza building. Drake stood in the middle of the road, waving his arms.

  “Come the fuck on! My bloody grandma would’ve gotten outta there faster’n you and she’s been dead twenty years!”

  “Piss . . . off,” Alicia panted and hauled Hibiki and Chika along. Yorgi managed to gain his feet and limped up.

  “We good?”

  “Yes, Yogi, we’re good.”

  Dahl ran up, hunched over, Mai at his side. “We’re sitting ducks,” he growled. “Where the hell’s Drake?”

  “Fuckin’ lucky ducks, I’d say!” Drake shouted, urging them toward him. “Hurry. That was plan C. Ain’t no plan D.”

  “I hope you have an escape plan.” Dahl glanced back into the devastated lobby, toward the surging, enraged crowd of mobsters who now looked even angrier than before. “They’re not just going to let us stroll out of here.”r />
  Drake snapped his fingers. “Bollocks. Never thought of that.” He led them at a sprint into a nearby alley, pointing out the waiting bikes.

  Mai set eyes on Grace for the first time. Her sudden exultation was then tempered by disbelief. “You brought her here? Are you insane?”

  “Long, long bloody story,” Drake grunted. “Hurry!”

  Alicia checked out the scene at their backs. The Yakuza lobby was a seething mass of bodies, most yelling and strapping on weapons, some already running toward the apparently innocent building across the road that also included a parking garage.

  “They’re starting to get their heads straight,” she said. “Some are already going for their vehicles.”

  “Then let’s move.” Drake turned his bike on and readjusted his mask. “Follow me.”

  The team jumped astride the other bikes without any more words. Alicia would have liked to thank the Yorkshireman, as might Dahl in his unique way; Mai might have liked to hug Grace and Chika and possibly slap Hibiki; Grace herself looked as if she wanted to embrace everyone at once—but fate had already rolled the dice and not in their favor.

  Yakuza swarmed into the streets, weapons bristling like endless stalks of corn, as Drake spun his Ducati around on its back wheel and then fired it like a rocket deeper into the alley. Alicia clung to his waist. Behind them came a black Honda CBR and a slower Yamaha, one driven by Mai with Grace behind her and the other by Hibiki with Chika at his back. Dahl fired up the last in line, another Honda with Yorgi riding pillion. Alicia dug her fingers in as Drake shot along the dark, blind alley, scattering garbage and accumulated debris to both sides.