“It’s us,” Hayden said. “We’re landing behind you right now.”
Booyah, Drake thought. The team’s all here.
They paused by the choppers for twenty seconds. Jax and Cara were still fighting; their new, machine-gun toting enemies running in closer. Drake saw Cara step away from Jax and give a despairing glance back at the police. To Drake’s mind she wanted to join them.
“Come on!” he shouted. “We’ve got you.”
“Typical.” Alicia was at his side. “Leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re waving at a blonde.”
He ignored her. Cara was turning their way, but then came the sound of a deep and deadly rising thunder. A buffeting cacophony as four more enemy helos roared in from the ocean. Two cut speed as they approached the police and one swooped down toward Jax and Cara.
They flew right in front of Drake. On board, in the back, he saw Kushner’s face pressed against the window. He could just make out Faye too, her arms tied above her head. Both her and Kushner’s faces were bloodied and beaten.
Guns were pointed at them.
The helicopter hovered a few feet off the ground, giving Jax and Cara the chance to see their captured colleagues.
“I have to say,” Dahl said through the comms. “The only reasoning behind this new attack must be the Fabergé eggs.”
He ducked as men from the new arrivals opened fire. Bullets peppered the choppers and police cars. Drake didn’t take his eyes off the scene unfolding around Jax and Cara. The bird holding their colleagues lifted off. Attackers were now beside them, pulling their arms behind their backs and securing them. Guns were aimed at their heads. Spare men covered their comrades by laying down fire. The cops, firing back, took three down. To the left, toward the ocean, more gunfire was exchanged.
“We’re up against a major criminal player here,” Cooper said. “To mount this kind of all-out surprise attack.”
“Arms dealer? Gun runners?” Dahl asked.
“Maybe.”
The war on Venice Beach continued under a bright, hot sun. Hayden and the others ran up and crouched down.
“Thought you’d be here,” Kinimaka said.
“In the middle of the action?” Alicia asked.
“On the beach.”
Drake rose and fired, running from cover to cover. He reached the Equinox with Dahl just as the gunmen grabbed their own helicopter to haul themselves inside. Jax and Cara were among them, being coerced none too gently with the butts of guns and fists. Drake rose and shot one enemy through the spine; Dahl picked off another. Return fire speckled the car. Drake ran to the front, peered out and killed another opponent.
Over ten enemy gunmen were dead now. The four extra choppers hovering to the ocean-side seemed to sense a shift in power and glided in closer, continuing their stream of fire. The force of their bullets knocked bikes over and perforated cars. Mai was concentrating on the lead bird, firing several shots before managing to hit the pilot. It crunched nose-first into the beach, sending up a wave of sand, then exploded. Fire licked up from the wreckage, the flames reflected on the low undercarriages of its companions.
Drake kept firing but couldn’t stop Jax and Cara being thrown into the helicopter. Men jumped after them. Dahl winged one, Drake killed another. The bird lifted off almost instantly, followed by the other three.
The birds near the ocean swung away too, just three now, still firing. Drake looked up and noticed for the first time that every chopper was worn, probably used every day and rarely serviced. A shout went up among those gathered around.
“After them.”
It was every man for himself, everyone just trying to jump into a police chopper as they rose off the ground.
Drake found a place. So did Alicia, Kinimaka and Mai. Dahl couldn’t get on board and ran for the closest police cruiser, radio in hand. He’d follow through the streets. Dallas, Karin and Dino were with him.
“Punch it, punch it!” Cooper cried. “We gotta catch those assholes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
They swept along the coastline as it swung southeast, seven enemy helicopters and four flown by police. Cars tried to keep up with them along the highways but lost ground, as did motorbikes. Speedboats kept pace at sea, flying over the waves in pursuit of the action.
Men had secured themselves to bulkhead straps in the enemy choppers ahead and now leaned out, firing at their pursuers. Drake’s helo swerved from side to side, eluding the bullets. It was only when a man leaned out with an RPG that Drake saw the gravity of what was happening.
“This is war. Whoever they are, they came prepared for anything. Drop back.”
The rocket exploded from its housing, passing between the police helicopters and slamming down into the ocean. Alicia’s bird pulled ahead, coming alongside their enemy, its occupants firing hard. The enemy pilot was hit and killed. The craft went out of control, spiraling down into the dazzling ocean, the waves swallowing it up.
Hayden was in the third chopper, urging her pilot to speed up. They were already screaming through the air, the noise tremendous. Speedboats raced below them. The highway was a sea of glittering police cars, still trailing. Hayden leaned out and lined up a shot, but a man trained his gun on her and fired, forcing her back inside. Drake heard her curse over the comms.
The chase continued to follow the coastline, passing over Redondo Beach and Long Beach without slackening its pace or changing course. It was only when they approached San Diego and Tijuana that the enemy helicopters veered to the left and headed inland.
“What are your orders?” Cooper was shouting into a radio.
Drake realized the man’s authority had been exceeded by someone working remotely, from an office. On the ground.
It didn’t surprise him.
They headed out across the southern Californian desert, over small mountain ranges, state parks and Native American reservations, leaving all other vehicles behind. They entered a mountain wilderness south of Borrego Springs. It was here, finally, that the choppers descended.
Drake tried to get a better view.
“We’ve got ’em,” Cooper said a bit prematurely. “They’re landing.”
Nine helicopters swooped down toward the rolling sands and ragged peaks. Barren, gray vistas lay everywhere, a stark contrast to the cities of Los Angeles and Vegas. The lead six birds approached a flat landing area.
To Drake it looked pre-made, the whole thing pre-planned.
“I don’t like the look—”
Camouflage netting was thrown back, revealing heavy-duty weapons. Dozens of armed men raced out of a nearby dry ravine bed.
Drake saw exactly what they were headed into.
“People,” he said, “you’d better brace for hell.”
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Three police choppers nose-dived at dozens of heavily armed men.
Bullets slammed into the cockpit and undercarriage. Drake flinched as a hole punched through the bulkhead next to his skull. Kenzie, seated beside him, fired back down, the sound of her semi-auto deafening inside the enclosed space. Their chopper veered to the left as Hayden’s veered to the right.
But Alicia’s kept on going, headed straight down at the shooters.
Alicia! Drake thought.
Luther and Mai were also on that helicopter. He wondered if Luther was calling the shots. Their own metal shell was spattered again, bullets glancing off. The ground rushed up fast. They were just twenty feet high now.
Alicia’s bird bounced down into the sand at the center of the firing men. Two were struck by the skids and went down like rag dolls falling off a shelf. The chopper bounced back up and came down for a second time on top of a group of men. Bullets riddled its sides. Drake could see a trail of destruction in its wake: men, weapons and scorched earth.
As his own chopper touched down, bullets had stopped striking it. The enemy were concentrating on Alicia’s chopper and in dragging the One Percenters away. He saw Jax and Cara thrown to the ground a
nd then kicked. He saw Kushner punched and hauled across the rock-strewn desert by a huge man. He saw Faye and Steele pulled out of choppers at gunpoint. Faye complied but Steele struggled, and was tased for his troubles.
Their third chopper, with Hayden and Molokai on board, hit the desert floor away to the right. Drake was already in motion, jumping to the sandy ground on their bird’s blind side, with Kenzie and three of the SWAT officers in tow.
He dropped to the floor. Dust plumed up all around them. Crawling forward, he finally understood what they had come upon.
No, we were led to this.
It looked like a sizeable force had been waiting in the desert. Upward of thirty men. They touted all kinds of weapons from handguns to RPGs. They weren’t especially well protected—most wore T-shirts and shorts to be fair—but what they lacked in body armor they made up for in firepower. Drake spied five flat-bed trucks and four jeeps, all dusty and battered, lined up to one side.
They were facing south.
Drake knew what lay in that direction: Mexico. And it strengthened his suspicions of who these men might me. The One Percenters were being forcibly herded toward the vehicles. Alicia’s chopper had finally grounded. Figures were jumping out of it and diving to cover. Hayden was pinned down to the far right of the area, using stones and hillocks for cover.
Drake saw no way to approach the enemy. No way to save the eggs or the thieves short of a risky all-out charge with guns blazing. Something he’d done before but not to save some works of art.
Wiping his face, he glanced around. Dust stuck to the sweat that coated his forehead. His boots scraped in the gravel as he moved. Behind them was a narrow, dry ravine, about the depth of a man. Drake swung his body into it, boots first, landing with a thud. Kenzie was at his back. Together they ran a hundred yards until they were behind a small mound of dirt. Drake stopped and carefully raised his head.
They were well behind the battle now. A slight slope led all the way to the top of a rock mound, about twenty feet in height. Drake saw only one problem: A guard crouched at the top of the rock mound, probably covering the rear.
Drake looked at Kenzie. “Let’s go.”
“On it.”
Together they crawled over the smooth, dusty rock pile, staying low and quiet. Back here, the noise of the fight was muffled, even gunshots were muted. The man ahead had planted his gun beside him and was peering over the edge of the rock, watching the action rather than his peripheries.
Drake didn’t want to shoot him in the back, so called out and took aim. “Hands up.”
The man whirled and reached for his gun. Kenzie shot him through the forehead. Drake rose to his knees and ran the rest of the way in a crouch.
They peered over the rocky edge, right down on top of the battle.
It wasn’t going their way. The One Percenters were at the pick-up trucks. Jax was already aboard. Kushner was being thrown in as they watched, his body doubled-over with pain. A man had Faye and was taunting her with his gun even as bullets whizzed around them. Somebody had killed two of the RPG-toting enemies, but they still had dozens of machine guns handy. Drake saw Steele standing his ground among the enemy and despite the weaponry, striking out with clenched fists, knocking men left and right. Someone fired a round into the ground between his legs, but Steele only bellowed and ran toward the shooter.
Drake grimaced. “That’s one stupid man.”
Kenzie tapped his shoulder. “Look.”
He followed her finger. Cara had broken free and was running for Alicia’s crashed helicopter. Drake could see Alicia and Luther making their way around to the front of the chopper, despite taking heavy fire.
Drake saw a chance. They could drop twenty feet onto the shooters standing between Cara and Alicia.
Nodding at Kenzie, he spoke quickly: “It’s doable. We need Cara to know who these guys are and what they’re planning for the eggs. And the One Percenters.”
“Got it.”
Drake secured his semi-auto over his shoulder and jumped first, landing atop one man and dragging two others down with him. Cara skidded to a stop just feet away, looking shocked. Kenzie landed next, taking two more men to the ground. Those still standing scrambled away. Two took bullets from Alicia and one from Luther. Drake struggled on the ground, covered in yellowish dust, scrabbling over the stones and gravel. His handgun was jammed into a man’s stomach. He discharged it and pulled away, then rolled at a second man who was trying to gain his feet.
He went down and Drake grabbed his shirt, hauling himself atop the man. Kenzie punched her opponent, at the same time reaching for her gun that had fallen away. Men were rising all around and those that she and Drake hadn’t felled were trying to get a bead on them. Cara was waiting, her hands clenched into fists, not sure where to run next.
Drake punched his man in the throat and face, then left him groaning. It was imperative to reach Cara before someone shot her. Alicia, Luther and three agents were starting to lay down good cover fire, making their enemy duck low or take cover. He reached Cara just as men peeled away from the fight at Hayden’s chopper to chase the escaped One Percenter.
Drake rose to his feet just as they fired.
No!
He yanked Cara around, shielding her with his body. Two bullets struck him, their impacts like sledgehammers smashing into his body. Grateful for the body armor, Drake sprawled on the floor, gasping heavily.
Cara was lying right beside him, her face close to his. Blood coated her features. “Help us, it’s the Ruiz cartel. They have Jax’s wife.”
Drake stared, unable to move. All this was for one man’s wife? Another man’s obscene wealth? Gathering strength, he forced his body off the ground.
A boot slammed him back down. An arm reached for Cara, dragged her up and then a gun was pointed at Drake’s head. He could see the barrel close to his left eye.
“Die motherfu—”
The gun and the man lurched away as bullets slammed into him. More men fell to their knees around Cara, dragging her away, giving them no time for anything else.
Drake rolled over.
Carefully, he sat upright. To left and right the cartel men were down or running. They had everything they needed, it seemed. Kenzie was on all fours in the dirt, recovering from a blow across the head. Men lay groaning and bleeding everywhere. Alicia, Luther and SWAT guys were suddenly around them, and from the east came the men from Drake’s chopper. Hayden and Mai were still trapped behind their bird.
The cartel men jumped behind the wheels of three flat-beds and two jeeps, most hiding in the back, forcing the One Percenters down and firing over the upraised sides. Drake crawled behind a dead man, using his body as cover. Everyone knelt and returned fire.
Drake suddenly saw Steele rise in the back of the last flat-bed. Somehow, they had managed to drag him over there, but he wasn’t about to go down quietly. He was a hot-headed ex-Marine, Drake knew, that couldn’t control his aggression. The kind of man that got others killed.
Steele lashed out left and right. A gun flew over the side of the flat-bed pickup. The vehicle slewed as it accelerated, making Steele fall to one knee. He struck another man on the temple, smashing him against the side of the truck. He kicked out, sending another into the back of the front cabin, breaking the rear window.
A shout went up. Drake couldn’t make it out but guessed what it was a moment later. Bullets riddled Steele’s chest. Blood poured down the front of his T-shirt as he pinwheeled his arms and staggered back, finally falling off the back of the truck. His lifeless body crashed to the ground.
Drake rose and walked across to Hayden. “We have a big problem,” he said.
“You think?”
“No. It’s worse. That’s the Ruiz cartel. They’re taking the eggs and the thieves to Mexico.”
Hayden closed her eyes. “Shit.”
Cooper, the lead FBI agent, was close by. “That puts it way out of our jurisdiction. We’re done here.”
He turned and
walked away.
Drake could only stare at the plumes of dust marking the route of the getaway vehicles.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Drake waited underneath the burning sun. He wiped sweat from his forehead and face. The plumes of dust were now barely discernible on the horizon.
Alicia came up to him. “Saw you get shot.”
“Did you fire those bullets that saved me?”
“Nah, don’t be daft. I knew you had it.”
Drake made a face and looked to Luther. “You?”
“No. Must have been one of the SWAT guys.”
Drake promised himself he’d thank them all. Hayden was already on her cellphone, trying to contact somebody that could make a critical decision. Drake shrugged his jacket off and stood there in his T-shirt, breathing heavily.
“Hey, watch out,” Alicia said. “Easy to catch sunburn out here, Drakey.”
“Oh, so you thought I could handle a bullet, but you warn me about the sun.” Drake shook his head, turning away. He saw vehicles approaching from the east, but straight away could see Dahl in the lead car. The Swede was quickly out and running toward them with Dallas, Karin and Dino at his back.
“Everyone okay? What happened?”
“We’re all good, “Drake responded. “Where the hell have you been? Didn’t fancy the battle?”
“Oh, I fancied it all right. Especially when I heard you got shot.”
Drake growled. “It wasn’t much fun, mate, believe me.”
“Not for you, maybe. I’d have enjoyed it though.”
Drake couldn’t stop the grin, but turned away, not giving Dahl the satisfaction of winning. Alicia filled Dahl in.
“Looks like the cartel boss kidnapped Jax’s wife, forcing him to steal the eggs. Or he hijacked a plan that was already in place. Either way, it explains Jax’s behavior and the One Percenters’ unusual actions. He couldn’t tell his team, or they’d refuse, and his wife would be killed. We’re guessing they’ve taken all of them, apart from Steele, to the leaders of the cartel.”
The Faberge Heist Page 16
