Drake relaxed. “That it has.” He sighed. “That it has.”
“And you have nothing to worry about where Hibiki is concerned,” Mai went on. “He is dating my sister.”
Guy’s a player all right. Drake shook his head. First Mai. Now Chika. “What’s his secret?”
“Do you really want to spend this call discussing Dai Hibiki’s assets?”
Drake blinked. “Not when you put it like that, no. What’s your timescale?”
“The Coscon is today. The plan is to go there first, seek out the Yakuza, and then head to the village. It should all be over by tonight.”
Drake remembered the original Coscon and the now world-renowned events that had occurred there. He hoped today’s episode would turn out far less dramatic but, knowing Mai, it was unlikely. He could spend an hour saying all the things he wanted to say to her but knew there were no words, not between soldiers such as they. The meaningful things went unsaid, but were no less heartfelt.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said.
“Aye, lad,” Mai said in a terrible mock-Yorkshire accent. “That y’will.”
He cut the connection. In more ways than one, Mai did not sound herself. He forced his attention back to the mission. Ahead, and soon to be below them, lay Death Valley, the lowest, hottest, driest area in North America, with the spectacular Panamint Mountains ranged along its western border. To his right, Dahl was just finishing up with his wife, Johanna. To his left, Kinimaka was talking softly to Kono, his sister. Karin leaned in to Komodo, whispering softly. Alicia fended off the calls from her biker gang, every member of which had wanted to accompany the SPEAR team on this desperate mission. If Death Valley had been closer to Washington, Drake knew they would have organized their own transport and found a way to help. But not this time.
They were heading into the Blood King’s trap.
Kinimaka’s cell chirped. He quickly checked the screen, blanched, and ended the call with Kono. His first words chilled every heart in the cabin.
“She’s what?”
The Hawaiian’s face fell even further, desperation never so plain on a man’s features. When he ended the call he took a few minutes to collect himself.
No-one spoke.
Finally, Mano Kinimaka looked up. “She died. Hayden died and they managed to revive her. Another surgery. But she’s failing…” his voice broke. “Failing bad.”
The pilot’s voice cut harshly through the grief. “Choppers are coming in hard from the left, folks. We’re under attack!”
Dahl sniffed and whispered. “About bloody time.”
Out of the searing light they came, three matt-black helicopters without munitions, but when doors had been torn off to allow groups of gun-toting, harnessed men to hang upright in the empty gaps, what need did they have of integral armament?
Drake hung on as their own chopper veered away. His view of the sky became a view of the ground: scorched desert and barren badlands, plus a brief glimpse of the small facility from which the Blood King had escaped a few days ago.
How did a man plan a campaign like this from prison?
With crucial aid, he thought, with one or more key figures backing you. Somebody had helped grease the wheels. Somebody had helped procure a drone which had turned out to be the main facilitator of Kovalenko’s escape. And drones, Drake knew, didn’t exactly come easy. Not even for a man like Dmitry Kovalenko.
He needed to consider the whole picture, including Jonathan Gates’ death. Someone was benefiting immensely from all this. The SPEAR team just had to figure out who.
The chopper swooped nose first, almost sending Drake’s stomach through his mouth. A wave of bullets flew through the space they had just vacated. Alicia swore as the ground rushed up to meet them, but then the pilot tugged on the collective, taking the chopper out of its dive. In another second he had jerked the machine sharply to the right, but even so the edge of a fresh wave of bullets clanged off the bodywork.
Alicia twisted and turned, trying to keep track of their enemy, cursing them with every breath. Dahl regarded her curiously.
“You okay, Al? You seem a little… jumpy. Not like yourself.”
“I’m fine, Torsten. And did I say you can call me Al?” She blinked, then shook her head, realizing what she’d said.
Dahl smiled. “Got you. God, you’re easy.”
“So it’s been said, but rarely to my face.”
Drake stared at them as bullets peppered the chopper’s body. “Wait. What’s this? Something new?”
Dahl nodded, holding onto a strap with his right hand and swaying with the sharp movements of the chopper. “My idea. All you have to do is trick someone into speaking a song title.”
“Where’d you learn that?” Drake poked. “Shiny-arse school?”
“It’s a damn sight better than Dinorock.”
Drake didn’t answer. Ben Blake had been his main Dinorock conspirator, Mai his second. Now one was dead and the other in the fight of her life. The open wounds were as raw as they were painful. Drake closed his eyes tight and whispered a silent prayer for Ben. He could barely imagine the lad’s eyes without life; unseeing, all thoughts and memory and purpose, all his experiences, lost and forgotten forever. Goodbye, my friend, Drake said to himself. I’ll maybe see you soon.
There was no worse a death than the end of hope. Throughout his life, Drake felt like he’d always fought an uphill struggle with hope. As a child, the battles with his dad had all been about ‘becoming better’, taking responsibility and striving to be the best. This was almost before he’d started school. Had he joined the army to please his father, or to get away from him? Drake didn’t know for sure, but in his heart suspected it was the latter. It didn’t matter now, of course. His father was long dead, his mother too. Later, his adversities had been with the army itself: fighting promotion, fighting shiny-arse rich boys for their privileges, fighting himself to overcome weakness and be the very best, fighting the enemy.
All his life.
More recently, the fight had become more personal. Since the Odin thing had happened, Drake had actually found himself able to take charge of the fight, instead of watching it happen to him. It felt good. But the line between personal battle and personal tragedy was a thin one and, it seemed, an unavoidable one.
The battle continued. He had the worst feeling that it would continue for the rest of his life. Would he ever find peace? Maybe… but Kovalenko and Coyote needed to be taken care of first. The road to Coyote had always been a dead end, but recently he had uncovered the slimmest of leads — Zoya, Zanko’s crazy grandmother, had once been in contact with the world’s greatest secret assassin. Nothing more. It was barely a straw, but one that needed to be clutched.
Soon…
Now Dahl smiled cheerfully as the chopper swooped lower and lower through its evasive strategies. Alicia whirled and spun, keeping her eyes firmly on the enemy. Komodo gripped a strap with one solid fist, the other arm held like a rod of iron across Karin’s stomach to help keep her from falling around the cabin despite her belts. Smyth sat expressionless, like a man waiting to appear on stage and show off his outstanding skills. And Kinimaka… well, the huge Hawaiian conveyed a mixture of emotion. One expression displayed raw will and hatred — he wanted to finish this whole endless grisly battle with the Blood King and move on. The next radiated pure longing — he wanted to be with Hayden, sat by her side, holding her hand and never having to let go.
Drake wondered if it could ever be that way between him and Mai. We’re such specialist soldiers, can we ever let go?