The Last Bazaar

by David Leadbeater

  “See how you like it, asshole.”

  Alicia kicked at Akatash’s legs as he jabbed away at Beauregard. One of her strikes caught him across the knee and buckled his leg, causing him to groan in pain. He fell to one knee, catching a shin across the face as Beauregard doubled his own efforts. Blood marked the bodyguard’s features. Akatash took another blow to the face without flinching and then struck out at Alicia as he rolled across the polished floor. Alicia felt a massive pain in the thigh, nerve clusters exploding, and collapsed in agony. Akatash was on top of her in an instant.

  The grinning face was pressed up against her own, sweat and blood mixing. Alicia could barely twitch, let alone move, as he bore down, hands free and thumbs driving deep into her most painful pressure points. Alicia felt agony like never before, screwing her face up to scream, and every ounce of energy fled her system. Akatash reared back to deliver a devastating blow that would snap her neck.

  Beauregard couldn’t stop him.

  Even Drake, watching the extreme struggle and sensing its outcome, diving for a knife and flinging it end over end, was too late to save her.

  Akatash struck.

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

  Alicia stared up at the face of death, unable to move.

  Her final thought: Oh, Drake, we missed—

  Then, the killing blow came and the pain struck her heart and brain and soul, but it was not Akatash’s blow. It was Beauregard, unable to stop the blow but managing to insert himself between Alicia and Akatash, taking the punch on his shoulder and then screaming with agony. Something snapped. Bones broke.

  Beau whirled away from Alicia, leaving her groaning, grabbed hold of Akatash with one hand and slammed him up against the enormous window. The bodyguard tried to recover from his shock, flailing and kicking.

  “So help me . . .” Beauregard said.

  “Hey, Beau!” Kenzie shouted. “Does this help?”

  She threw her great katana with full force, end over end, the long sword slicing the distance apart. Aimed high, it impacted above Beau’s head at the very center of the picture window. Akatash flinched. The glass cracked in the middle, crazy little lines running away from the impact point and bolting toward the edges. A piece fell, just a shard, and then a larger piece. A wedge the size of a paving flag crashed down into the room, shattering. Akatash was suddenly aware of the screaming wind at his back and the endless drop.

  Beauregard tightened his grip. “One more who will not be missed.”

  He smashed Akatash again and again into the cracking window until his body weight made it shatter completely, glass showering in both directions all across its vast expanse. The deep, lush valley suddenly felt a great deal closer.

  Dahl stepped in. “Need help?”

  Beau glared into Akatash’s eyes. “Not today.”

  He flung the bodyguard into high, thin air, the vast drop yawning below.

  The problem was, Akatash had not given up. His flailing arms and hands had caught hold of Beauregard’s suit and taken hold with a death grip. As the Frenchman thrust with all his power, Akatash held on, and Beau went with him.

  Through the window they went, Alicia now sitting up and screaming, Drake much too far away to help but sprinting anyway with Mai a step ahead. Akatash fell and took Beauregard down.

  It was only the Mad Swede who stood close enough to help, and Dahl didn’t bat an eye nor hesitate a moment. He dived after Beau, straight through the shattered window and toward the longest drop he’d ever seen. With floundering hands he managed to grab hold of Beau’s legs before any kind of momentum took hold, then lay there, helpless. A second later and Alicia landed on his lower body, pinning him to the floor.

  Beau prized Akatash off his bodysuit. The man fell away with steel in his eyes, holding Beau’s gaze until he began to tumble.

  Dahl held on, still sliding forward, but Alicia was joined by Drake and Mai and between them they gently began to haul both men to safety. The glass scraped Dahl’s jacket and bare arms but he’d take that over a free fall any day. Minutes later and the group were sat in a tangled heap, sweating, panting and trying to recover.

  Kenzie drifted over. “Looks like my kinda party. Can I join?” She reached down for her katana and then surveyed the other part of the room. Hayden, Smyth and Kinimaka had used the last of their bullets and were now down to knives. Luckily, Hayden found two grenades among their attacker’s bodies and managed to whittle their number down. The explosion caused a wall to collapse, further hampering the aggressors.

  “Don’t you guys get it? Your boss has run away,” Hayden called to them. “Go home.”

  Drake crawled over to the struggling Ramses and fashioned a gag for him. With a worried look he turned to Hayden.

  “We can’t hurt, kill or lose this man. By his order the nuke goes off.”

  Hayden let out a long, deep breath. “That I know, my friend. That I know. I think it’s time to call in the reinforcements and get the hell outta Peru, don’t you?”

  “Maybe they have already found it?” Kinimaka suggested. “The nuke?”

  Smyth grunted. “Not friggin’ likely.”

  Ramses rumbled into his gag as if in affirmation of the angry soldier’s comment.

  “We’ll put him on ice. Nobody knows we have him. Right?”

  Nods all around. Beauregard was sitting up by now and Alicia along with him. Kenzie wondered if Dahl needed anything massaging and Drake eyed the distances between himself and Mai, Beau and Alicia.

  Talk about complications.

  But urgency stabbed at his heart. “We have no time to waste.” His muscles ached, his joints groaned, his blood dripped onto the floor. He forced himself upright. “If New York . . .” He faltered. “I can’t even think like that.”

  Hayden took out her sat-phone and informed their back-up choppers to be prepared for a flight to the nearest friendly airfield where the Jetstream was already fueled and waiting. Dahl removed Kenzie’s hands and gently placed them onto her own knee.

  “With all these infuriated terrorists running around with their newly purchased mega-weapons, dozens of cells fretting and waiting for Ramses’ order to push the button, and the certainty that America will strike back, we’re looking at another Armageddon scenario,” the Swede pointed out.

  Drake patted himself down. “Then we’d best be on our way.”

  Mai nodded. “I’m with you.”

  The rest of the SPEAR team walked through bodies and blood to stand together. Far away, through the picture window, a civilian-heavy city never slept and never closed down. It thrived now and built on the foundation of its past, growing stronger in the face of those who sought to bring it down, the bastion of the free world.

  It had no idea what was coming. And neither did its population.

  Drake, the soldier, and his team made ready. There would be no down-time this time, not even a minute.

  Next stop, he thought. New York.

  THE END

  Please read on for more information on the future of the Matt Drake world.

  I hope you enjoyed The Last Bazaar, which offers a break from the archaeological treasure hunting and presents a new style to the Drake stories. Next up—The Edge of Armageddon (Matt Drake 13)—will do the same whilst hopefully becoming the fastest-paced book I have ever written. At least, that’s the sight I have set. It will release early April, so not too long to wait. I’m planning a stand-alone Torsten Dahl novel for the middle of 2016 and already working very hard on the details. After that it’s Alicia 3 or Drake 14.

  Beyond that look out for regular, signed paperback giveaways on my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/davidleadbeaternovels/

  As always, e-mails are welcomed and replied to within a few days. If you have any questions please drop me a line.

  Check my website for all the latest news and updates—www.davidleadbeater.com

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