At that moment there was a flicker in Rodriguez’s eye. Drake rolled as something heavy passed where his head had been.
A fourth man, probably passed out in a nearby room and roused by the noise, had attacked.
Drake whipped around, flicking out a foot and nearly taking his new assailant’s head off. When the man crashed to the ground, Drake appraised him quickly — the heavy eyes, the tram-lines down both arms, the filthy T-shirt — and shot him twice in the head.
Rodriguez’s eyes bulged. “No!”
Drake shot him in the arm. “You haven’t been helpful to me.”
Another shot. His knee exploded.
“You know nothing.”
A third bullet. Rodriguez doubled-over, holding his gut.
“Like all the rest of them.”
A final shot. Right between the eyes.
Drake surveyed the death around him, taking it in, letting his soul drink the nectar of vengeance for just a moment.
He left the house behind, escaping through the garden, letting the deep darkness take him.
CHAPTER TWO
Drake woke deep in the night, bathed in sweat. Eyes caked together with partly shed tears. The dream was always the same.
He had been the man who always saved them. The man always first to utter the words ‘trust me.’ But then he failed.
Failed them both.
Twice now. First Alyson. Now Kennedy.
He slipped out of bed, reaching for the bottle he kept beside the gun on the nightstand. He swigged from the open top. Cheap whisky burned a path down his throat and into his gut. The medicine of the weak and the damned.
When guilt threatened to bring him yet again to his knees, he made three quick calls. The first to Iceland. He spoke briefly to Torsten Dahl and heard the sympathy in the big Swede’s voice, even as the man told him to stop ringing every night, that his wife and kids were safe and well and that no harm would come to them.
The second was to Jo Shepherd, a man he had fought many battles alongside during his days in the old regiment. Shepherd politely painted the same scenario as Dahl, but didn’t comment on Drake’s slurred words or the raw croak in his voice. He assured Drake that Ben Blake’s family was well guarded and that he and a few of his friends sat in the shadows, proficiently guarding the guards.
Drake closed his eyes as he made the last call. His head spun and his gut burned like the lowest level of hell. It was all welcome. Anything to draw his attention away from Kennedy Moore.
You even missed her damn funeral…
“Hello?” Alicia’s voice was calm and assured. She too had lost someone close to her recently, though she showed no outward sign.
“It’s me. How’re they doing?”
“All fine. Hayden’s healing well. Another few weeks and she’ll be back to her saintly CIA self. Blake’s okay, but pining for you. His sister just turned up. Quite the family reunion. Mai’s AWOL, thank God. I’m watching them, Drake. Where the hell are you?”
Drake coughed and wiped his eyes. “Thank you,” he managed before he broke the connection. Funny she should mention hell.
He felt he was camped outside those very gates.
CHAPTER THREE
Hayden Jaye watched the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean. It was her favorite part of the day and one she liked to spend in solitude. She slipped gingerly out of bed, wincing at the pain in her thigh, and padded carefully over to the window.
A relative peace settled over her. Creeping fire touched the waves and for a few minutes all her pain and worries melted away. Time stood still and she was immortal, and then the door opened behind her.
Ben’s voice. “Nice view.”
She nodded at the sunrise and then turned to see he was looking at her. “You don’t need to get fresh, Ben Blake. Coffee and a buttered bagel is enough.”
Her boyfriend brandished a drink carrier and paper bag like a weapon. “Meet me on the bed.”
Hayden took a last look at the new dawn and then took a slow walk over to the bed. Ben placed the coffee and bagels within easy reach and gave her puppy-dog eyes.
“How—”
“Same as last night,” Hayden said quickly. “Eight hours ain’t gonna make a limp go away.” Then she softened a little. “Anything from Drake?”
Ben settled back on the bed and shook his head. “No. I spoke to Dad though, and they’re all doing well. No sign of— ” He faltered. “Of…”
“Our families are safe.” Hayden laid a hand on his knee. “The Blood King failed there. Now all we have to do is find him and get the vendetta lifted.”
“Failed?” Ben echoed. “How can you say that?”
Hayden took a deep breath. “You know what I meant.”
“Kennedy died. And Drake… he didn’t even go to her funeral.”
“I know.”
“He’s gone, you know.” Ben stared at his bagel as if it were a hissing snake. “He won’t come back.”
“Give him time.”
“He’s had three weeks.”
“Then give him three more.”
“What do you suppose he’s doing?”
Hayden gave a half-smile. “From what I know of Drake… Covering our backs first. Then he’ll be trying to find Dmitry Kovalenko.”
“The Blood King might never turn up again.” Ben’s mood was so depressing, it leached away even the bright promise of the new morning.
“He will.” Hayden shot the young man a glance. “He has an agenda, remember? He won’t go to ground like previously. The time displacement devices were just the beginning. Kovalenko has a much bigger game planned.”
“The Gates of Hell?” Ben mused. “You believe that shit?”
“Doesn’t matter. He believes it. All the CIA has to do is figure it out.”
Ben took a long swallow of coffee. “That’s all, eh?”
“Well…” Hayden slipped him a sly smile. “Our geek forces are doubled now.”
“Karin is the brains,” Ben admitted. “But Drake would break Boudreau in a minute.”
“Don’t be too sure. Kinimaka didn’t. And he’s not exactly a poodle.”
Ben paused as there was a knock at the door. His eyes betrayed terror.
Hayden took a moment to reassure him. “We’re inside a secure CIA hospital facility, Ben. The layers of security surrounding this place would put the President’s inauguration parade to shame. Chill.”
A doctor popped his head around the door. “All good?” He entered the room and proceeded to check Hayden’s charts and vitals.
When he closed the door on the way out, Ben spoke again. “You think the Blood King will try for the devices again?”
Hayden shrugged. “You’re assuming he didn’t get the first one I lost. He probably did. As for the second one we recovered from his boat?” She smiled. “Nailed on.”
“Don’t be complacent.”
“The CIA aren’t complacent, Ben,” Hayden said immediately. “Not anymore. We’re ready for him.”
“What about the kidnapping victims?”
“What about them?”
“They’re certainly high profile. Harrison’s sister. The others you mentioned. He’ll use them.”
“Of course he will. And we’re ready for him.”
Ben finished his bagel and gave his fingers a lick. “I still can’t believe the entire band had to go into hiding,” he said wistfully. “Just as we were beginning to get famous.”
Hayden made a diplomatic grunt. “Yeah. Tragic.”
“Well, maybe it will make us more notorious.”
There was another quiet knock and Karin and Kinimaka came into the room. The Hawaiian looked despondent.