The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake Book 10)

by David Leadbeater

  Hibiki nodded to himself and ended the call. An upwelling of pure disbelief almost overwhelmed him. Was the world always so close to war?

  Ridiculous question. He already knew the first thing he had to do—contact Hayden Jaye.

  Mai finally saw the terror in his eyes and rose to confront him. “What is it?”

  Hibiki shook his head and then turned his eyes toward the sea. “Mu is about to be destroyed by the Chinese or someone else. Drake’s down there now. And China are starting a war with Taiwan. Business as usual in your world, I guess.”

  “It used to be,” Mai said with a blank stare. “I’m not so sure anymore. I think I should talk to that girl, the one that survived the Yakuza attack. Emiko, her name was.”

  Hibiki stared at her, shocked to hear her talking this way after all that he had just said. “I forgot to tell you amidst all the latest craziness,” he said. “Emiko walked out on her police protection, slipped away. She’s gone, Mai.”

  The Japanese woman’s gaze was far away. “Yes, I really think I need to talk to her.”

  Hibiki walked to the edge of the docks and studied the rolling waters. Yorgi came up beside him. “Is there problem?”

  “I’m just praying for their safety, my friend. Their safety and my sanity.”

  *

  Drake was reaching for the surface when the blast occurred. The percussive force was like nothing he had ever felt, pushing him through the thick water like a giant, unfriendly hand. Suddenly out of control, the shock wave hit him and sent his body barreling forward, arms and legs flailing to both sides. He was vaguely aware of other human shapes thrashing beside him, caught in a tide of madness. Decompression was no longer an issue as they shot toward the surface. Kearns had made them pause frequently even though the clock was ticking. Drake just hoped it had been enough. A pool of white light appeared above, diffused and rippling, and then he was breaking the surface as walls of white water exploded all around him.

  The sea burst skyward, rising in plumes of white, forming a ring of destruction around the lost land that had existed beneath. Drake slapped down hard as saltwater swelled and heaved all around him, the sound of the detonation echoing from far shore to far shore. Ramparts of seawater rose up, mighty, stunning in their furious beauty. Quickly, glad only that he still retained his faculties, he dived again, not wanting to be caught underneath a great deluge as the water crashed back down. Again, black slippery shapes clawed at the water all around but the uncontainable chaos made it impossible to stick together.

  He breathed deeply, grateful now that the rebreather still worked and that his air still functioned. At last there was a mighty smash from above as displaced gallons came back down. Drake twisted and remained buoyant, holding his position. His immediate worry was for his friends.

  To his left, just visible, he saw Dahl, hanging in the water. The Swede was fine, just drifting motionless whilst waiting to ascend. Kearns wove his body quickly around all three of his men to determine their condition.

  And then Drake saw Alicia.

  Drifting down, head down, the Englishwoman was not moving voluntarily. He flippered over as fast as he could, catching her under the arms and lifting her head up.

  “Are you okay?” he shouted. “Alicia! Are you okay?”

  No response.

  He tried harder. The Englishwoman’s eyes were closed. Dahl came over, followed by Kearns.

  “She went up higher than all of us.” He motioned up top. “Let’s go.”

  As a team they scissor-kicked their way to the still-seething surface, breaking free of the water and bobbing with the waves. Kearns ripped his mask off and unhooked Alicia’s. Drake steadied her position.

  “Well, she’s still breathing,” Kearns said. “Let her sleep it off. Can anyone spot the friggin’ boat?”

  “I know one thing that’ll wake her up.” Drake positioned her so that her arms looped over his shoulders. “Slap her ass. Always used to work back in the day.”

  Dahl’s face blanched. “I really don’t feel like risking that.”

  “And a bloody good job you didn’t, Torsty,” Alicia murmured as her eyes flickered open. “And you, Drake. My peachy bum is reserved for Frenchmen only at the moment.”

  Drake nodded at all the bobbing heads. “Not frogmen.”

  “No. Frenchmen.”

  “All right then.”

  The Seals took some time to locate their boat as Drake turned his mind once more to their new predicament. “Ey up,” he said as jets flew over. “That can’t be good. And speaking of not good—does anyone wanna guess at what just happened down there?”

  “Somebody blew up Mu,” Alicia said matter-of-factly.

  “I know that, but why?”

  “Speaking of blowing up.” Dahl removed a watertight case from his suit and then a cellphone. “Our friend Kearns spoke of a wireless signal transmitted underwater. One thing about wireless signals—they can be tracked.”

  Kearns finally located their Zodiac using his own tracker and informed the group they were in for a swim. Dahl finished his call to Karin and zipped his cell back up. Together, they set out strong, taking about twenty minutes to reach the upturned Zodiac. Five minutes of clever maneuvering later and they were on their way again, streaking back toward Hsinchu Harbor, its outline becoming more distinct by the second.

  Drake called Hibiki. Dahl spoke to Karin. By the time they reached the dock they were all apprised of the new situation and its connotations. The SPEAR team stripped out of their suits and thanked the Seals for their efforts.

  All the while Dahl spoke to Karin.

  Finally, he hung up. “The wireless signal bounced off a transmitter on the seabed up to a boat—we think—on the surface and then overland to an apartment block—” he shaded his eyes, scanning the bay. “Right . . . there.”

  Drake followed his hand, saw the gray building standing tall a few miles distant. “Wait. You’re saying the people who blew up the Lost Kingdom and are trying to start a war are in that building? Now?”

  “I am. Top floor. End apartment.”

  “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Drake led the assault against the apartment block, Dahl, Alicia and Hibiki at his back. Mai was left as a guard for the others, not that the Seal team wouldn’t have done that, but Drake and Dahl, and even Hibiki, were beginning to lose a little trust in her judgment. The team figured they’d lost about an hour since the explosion and hope was waning that the perpetrators would still be on site. The other downside was that the Taiwanese authorities had started arriving in their separate groups, though most of their attention was currently devoted to the site of the explosion.

  Drake opened the door and entered the stairwell before drawing a weapon. The recriminations would be high if his US-based team were caught raiding a Hsinchu apartment block. The risers were steep, echoing concrete, pockmarked with age and littered with various forms of debris. Windows stood open at every level, cracked to allow at least some breeze to offset the tropical heat.

  Karin had pinpointed the signal, using a US satellite, to an apartment on the top floor at the very end of the block. Only one room faced the sea. Drake approached it now, becoming more attentive with every step. The assumption had to be that the room was hostile.

  “Ready?”

  Three affirmations came back. Drake paused momentarily to the side of the door.

  “Ain’t gonna smash itself in, Drakey,” Alicia whispered.

  “You’re right,” Drake said. He’d been thinking about trying to gain entry more quietly but realized that just wasn’t his way. “Fuck it.”

  With a boot aimed at the lock he leapt forward. The door crashed in, bursting off its hinges. Drake entered first, gun high, flanked by Dahl and Alicia. A bare room greeted them, its only occupants a flimsy looking table and seven surprised men ranged along the far wall.

  “The feck do you want?”

  Drake slowed in surprise, re
cognizing Dudley immediately and then grasping the significance of their confrontation. This was the entire 27-Club then, caught red-handed. It was about time their luck turned for the better.

  “Down on your knees,” he said. “Hands behind your head. Do it, now.”

  Dudley set eyes on Alicia. “I don’t feckin’ believe it. That’s the bitch, boys. Right there. The bitch that bested me.”

  “You don’t believe it?” Alicia repeated softly. “I never imagined I’d get to meet the seven fucking dwarves. Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey, Twathead . . .”

  “Down!” Drake snarled at them.

  “Shut yer feckin’ face, soldier boy. Me and me brother, Malachi, here, we been talking ‘bout this moment ever since we got the club back together. Hey, pretty. How ya doin’?”

  Dahl waved his rifle. “I’m good, thanks. Now get down.”

  “Seven against four. Yer sure yer don’t wanna back outta that door?”

  Alicia snorted. “You may be a bloody goofball, Dudley, but even you can’t believe you’re gonna get out of this in one piece.”

  Dudley made a wistful face and then looked once across the line, catching the gaze of all his men. “Been a pleasure, boys.”

  All hell broke loose. The Irishmen attacked with only their bare hands, five of them springing fast whilst Dudley and Malachi held back. Drake opened fire, felling the quickest. Dahl did the same. Alicia toppled another. Then the Irishmen were among them, pushing at their weapons and forcing them back. Hibiki sidestepped the melee, felling a third attacker with a shot to the ribs. Those who had fallen were only wounded and though tight-faced in their agony, continued to fight hard, using their legs as weapons. Drake found himself on his knees, having to punch a bleeding man in the face and then render him unconscious as he refused to go down. Dahl was pulled backward by a seated man, spun and smashed a hard elbow into his ear but that man seemed barely to feel it, the only sign of his pain the sudden tightening of his lips. The Swede was forced to bend down and smash his head into the floor. Alicia kicked and punched at another, sent reeling by a hard blow to the thigh even as her opponent bled out.

  “Tough fucker,” she said, forced to accelerate his passing.

  Only two of the initial five now remained, and they were both scrappers, punching and kicking and forcing their opponents into disarray. Drake’s gun was on the floor, along with Alicia’s. Dahl tried to wade through arms and legs. Only Hibiki was free and his gun was trained toward the only window.

  Dudley screamed at the top of his voice. “Yer killin’ me brothers. There’s no feckin’ place on earth you’ll be safe from me now!”

  Then he was gone, closely followed by his brother and two others, choosing to save his vengeance for another day it seemed. Hibiki’s shot smashed only the frame. Drake untangled himself from one of the downed Irishmen, then fell headlong as the guy clung on, visibly refusing to die. Landing hard and twisting he found himself staring down the barrel of his own gun.

  The Irishman sniggered. “Tell Satan Darragh Brannan says hi.”

  This time Hibiki’s shot found its target, killing Brannan before he could pull Drake’s trigger. The Yorkshireman took a second to evaluate the scene.

  “Are they all dead? That was like wading through glue. With limbs.”

  Dahl staggered to the window. “Dudley, Malachi and two others escaped. Why do you think they were still here? Waiting for someone?”

  “Aye, probably,” Drake said. “We knew Dudley was over in Asia but here? Detonating the bomb? What else has the bastard been up to?”

  “Scheming for the Pythians,” Hibiki said. “My contact with the Chinese said that they’d ransomed something called a Z-box, probably in exchange for destroying Mu and regaining the Peking Man fossil. Didn’t you say Dudley was the Pythians’ Lord of War, or something? I bet he’s been awaiting delivery of the Z-boxes.”

  “They’re sure using him for their dirty work,” Alicia said, having triple-checked that the downed Irishmen were out of action.

  “What’s a Z-box?” Drake asked. “First I’ve heard of them.”

  “We don’t know,” Hibiki said. “But whatever they are, they’re worth starting a war, destroying a lost kingdom and losing an ancient fossil for, at least to the Pythians.”

  “Not good,” Dahl mouthed the understatement of the year, at least in Drake’s opinion. “And then we have Dudley and his men sacrificing themselves so stupidly.”

  “Guy’s gonna be pissed.” Drake joined him at the window. “As if we didn’t have enough crazies to worry about. C’mon guys, it’s time to regroup and rethink.”

  “And get the hell out of Taiwan,” Dahl eyed the skies, “back to Hong Kong.”

  “We should liaise with Hayden on the way,” Drake said. “This thing’s spiraling out of control and if we don’t get a grip on it . . .”

  He didn’t need to finish; the crashing waves of rolling thunder accompanying a flight of jets overhead spoke for him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Placing a round-the-clock watch on Lauren Fox, Dahl’s family and their own homes was one of the hardest things Hayden had ever had to do. A simple physical matter of placing a call—it was far more than that psychologically. It was an admission that one of the most effective teams on the planet weren’t entirely safe in their own homes, that the old Blood Vendetta had been relatively ineffective compared to a megalomaniac and his nasty little hobby. It was—almost—admitting failure.

  Soon though, the events of the day put Tyler Webb’s personal intrigues on the backburner. Key events were occurring in the world at large. China had released a tentative but enthusiastic communiqué about the discovery of a lost civilization and that they were close to verifying the find. Their defenses had been ramped up, jets patrolling the land and sea borders. In response, as ever, Taiwan had scrambled their own jets and the US had made rumblings about the preparedness of its nearby carrier fleet. Chain shaking, she thought. Dick measuring. Her country did it well but the Taiwan issue was always going to be a loaded one. Since 2008 relations had considerably improved but the Chinese, disinclined to make any proposals that might appeal to democratic Taiwan, had been left with only two options. Give up on the twenty-three-million-strong country or take it by force.

  According to Beijing, the cost of losing credibility ruled out the former option, especially in light of the ever-growing power imbalance in the Taiwan Strait, and key members of the PLA believed that Taiwan had no fight in them. Hayden knew China had never actually ruled out the possibility of force, even when relations improved between the two countries. The problem was, given China’s declared defense budget at more than a 12:1 ratio over Taiwan’s, the outcome was never in real doubt. That left America, Taiwan’s principal security partner, with much more than a headache. Of course an attack or even an invasion would not be a simple matter—Taiwan employed F-16s, attack choppers and destroyers in their armory, not to mention the anti-ship, supersonic cruise missile system, Hsiung Feng III—and American warships would only escalate the problem.

  The trouble was, these days China was always willing to up the ante. The US had already forewarned its fleet and even such minor transmissions were seen as acts of provocation.

  Kinimaka entered her eye line, breaking into her thoughts. “Guards have all been assigned. We’re going high-profile to warn these people off, rather than low-key and risk missing something. Sound okay?”

  “Yeah.” Hayden was distracted, ruminating over China and the latest developments. “Mano, we have a far, far bigger problem.”

  The Hawaiian stopped so suddenly his shoes squeaked across the floor. “We do? What?”

  “The Taiwan Strait just went up in a water bomb. China have wasted no time blaming it on Taiwan, attributing their earlier overflies to sighting flights and provocation. They’re calling the explosion an act of war.”

  Kinimaka’s mouth fell open. “And the Lost Kingdom?”

  “Nobody knows. But take a look at this . . .” Hayden
spun her laptop around and pressed a button, playing a recording of the Taiwan Strait event for him. As he watched she continued, “You can bet your ass the Lost Kingdom’s a helluva mess. Once the dust has settled who knows? But the consequences of that explosion . . .” Hayden shook her head.

  “What do we know?”

  “Dudley pressed the button. Almost certainly he’s working with the Pythians who ransomed the Peking Man to China earlier. In addition, the Chinese gave them three items called Z-boxes. We’re still working to discover what they are, but the rumors are frankly terrifying. Our current situation is this—Drake and the team are in Hong Kong awaiting instructions.”

  Kinimaka waited for more, then said, “That’s it?”

  “We don’t know Dudley’s location. The Yakuza are still hunting for Mai and Chika with a vengeance. What do you want SPEAR to do? Take control of Beijing?”

  “I bet they could do it.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Hayden rubbed her tired eyes.

  “Hey,” Kinimaka walked forward and held her. “Let’s focus. The war problem is out of our control. Stick with Dudley. These Z-boxes that he probably has. Let’s work that.”

  Smyth entered the room then, fresh from his visit to the hospital. “Damn, you two just hack me off. Ya can’t stand around hugging all friggin’ day. We got work to do.”

  Hayden pulled away from Kinimaka. “Would you like to punch him first, or shall I?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  Tyler Webb smashed a closed fist against the top of his desk, exultant as he heard the news. The feeling he experienced bordered on sexual, so arousing it almost settled on a par with the feelings he got whilst stalking other people’s homes and rifling through their personal lives, but then he remembered who was on the end of the line.

  “Dudley,” he breathed a little lower than he really wanted to. “Good job, my fine Irish friend. Good job. You’re actually holding all three Z-boxes now?”