“You see that?” Kenzie called out.
Dahl could see nothing but snow and wood and hanging branches. “What?”
“A road ahead. If it’s the same one we came up on then it’s a direct run into Zurich. This can’t be blind luck.”
“So that’s it.” Dahl nodded. “Knew there had to be a reason.”
The snowmobiles plowed on, the fighting paused for now as the drivers struggled to keep everyone alive. The white leader took off over a ramp-shaped pile of snow, its driver standing, and came down with a double bump, now past the forest and careening toward the ribbon of black tarmac — prominent amongst the fields of snow.
Thunder shook the skies.
Dahl looked up, and although darkness stole among the white-gray clouds he easily spied the running lights of a pair of helicopters. “The cavalry,” he said.
“Or the cultists.” Kinimaka jumped on the comms.
“Too coincidental.” Dahl eased off the throttle as the edge of the forest approached. “How we doing for ammo?”
“Pretty damn good.” Kenzie wielded her sword and grinned.
The others sounded off; not bad after such outright warfare, but then they had come prepared. Not in all ways, he thought, glancing at the beast he straddled and then at Kenzie standing tall with her bloody blade. But the Swede had a soldier’s mind, a soldier’s brain, and made the next decision without pause.
“Lauren, Yorgi, you’re closest. You get Webb. We’ll go after the choppers.”
Easy to say, but the framework was clear in his mind. If they harassed the choppers before they landed the pilots would be forced to evade. He then got a look at the men sat inside the helicopters.
Not robed, not locals. Somehow Webb must have had them stationed in Zurich, and on stand-by. They wouldn’t back down.
Men leaned out of the descending choppers, feet planted on the skids, weapons pointed.
Dahl knew they were sitting ducks. But something didn’t quite sit right. Webb had called these men, sure, but where were the Freemasons going?
He pulled on the handlebars, spun the snowmobile behind a wide trunk as hellfire erupted from above. Bullets stitched the wood, driving huge splinters from the tree. Dahl and Kenzie ducked low. Through the comms he heard Kinimaka and Smyth grunting as they were shunted to safety and the remaining snowmobiles carried on.
Dahl didn’t take defeat easy. He leaned around the trunk, held the Glock in two hands and drew a bead on one of the chopper pilots. Return fire mangled his aim and the bullets shot up toward the clouds. All three remaining snowmobiles had stopped beside the road and one of the choppers was coming down hard, aiming right for the middle. As it neared asphalt mercenaries dropped out to take up perimeter positions.
“Too many.” Smyth cursed. “Too desperate. But they still have our asset.”
Dahl didn’t want to do this all again. He couldn’t fire blindly because he didn’t want to hit the master thief. “Next time,” he said, for no real reason. “We’re bringing grenades.”
Kenzie looked a little hurt, and Dahl had to admit she’d done more than her fair share for the team. Another volley of gunfire swept the treeline, keeping them pinned down. A new sound now roared out of the encroaching darkness, and bright lights flashed and bounced from earth to skies. Dahl knew that sound.
“4x4s,” he said. “Coming up the road. So that was the Freemasons’ getaway.”
The helicopters boomed, their rotors spinning mightily as one took off and the other pulled up. Dahl saw only the robed warriors remaining and the face of Tyler Webb pressed against one of the chopper windows. The man was grinning.
Got what he came for.
But Sabrina was in there too. The day wasn’t totally lost.
“Now,” he said. “Let’s go grab ourselves a couple of vehicles.”
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
The team exploded from hiding, engines revving and runners skidding. The robed men heard them coming and formed a cordon around the 4x4s, but Dahl had no intentions of slowing down. As the line came up he blipped the throttle, and saw the looks of fear flash into his enemies’ eyes as they saw his intentions.
“Don’t fuck with me,” he growled.
Smashing men aside, he threw the handlebars sideways and the vehicle into a slide. Kenzie slashed down with one hand whilst holding on with the other. Her sword clanged once, twice, then cleaved through bone. Men went sprawling. Dahl lifted his gun as the snowmobile slowed, squeezing off three shots. From the right came Yorgi and Lauren; Kinimaka and Smyth laying down the fire. The robed warriors ran at the slewing snowmobiles, fanatics to the last, some striking at the metal with their swords, others falling as they slashed at those aboard. The car engines roared as their drivers saw what was happening.
Dahl leapt from the footrests, came down on two feet and blew the side window from a high black vehicle. Blood splashed and a figure slumped, the engine note withering away. The second 4x4 shot forward in a gravel-churning skid.
A sword swung at Dahl. He skipped back, letting the blade pass an arm’s width away. He kicked the owner, seeing the sword fall, and then rendered him unconscious. Another attacker screamed in from the right but Kenzie caught his plunging sword with her own, jerking the man’s weapon free and almost breaking his wrist in the process.
Dahl saw a gap to the bloodied 4x4 and clicked the comms. “With me,” he shouted out. “Fast.”
They ignored their few remaining opponents and ran hard for the 4x4. Dahl jumped through the open front door and kicked the dead driver aside. The engine was still running. A robed figure came at him and he closed the door against the man’s face, wincing as metal struck bone with an ungiving crunch.
Kenzie remained by the passenger door, fencing with two men and keeping them at bay. Smyth shot one as he jumped into the back. Yorgi and Lauren jumped off their perches and dived in lengthways, tangled and sprawling in the footwell. Dahl pressed the accelerator hard.
Kinimaka bounded into the back.
The Swede set off in a black cloud of rubber, racing hard into the heart of Zurich.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Drake sauntered along, a tourist alone returning to his hotel in the heart of Dubai. They had chosen a place near the Dubai mall, both because of its distance from the Palm Jumeirah and proximity to the main airport highway. He entered the lobby now, holding the door open, casting around to see who might lie in wait.
All looks well.
The interior was bright and shining, the staff all smiling. Guests came and went, despite the late hour. Drake made his way through carefully, went for the stairs and paused on the first landing. All was quiet. In truth, nothing set his alarm bells ringing.
Looks like I’m safe, but what about the rest?
Their strategy hadn’t worked well — a fail for the SPEAR team. They had endangered civilians and themselves. Questions would be asked… somewhere. He was unused to failure, especially during the last few years. Sometimes a man might be forgiven for thinking he was a little superhuman, but elite Special Forces soldiers were trained to deal differently, to think differently, accomplish feats those without the preparation of decades of experience might think unachievable.
It had to be said they were working on the back foot though. Webb was clearly following an agenda he’d had in place for many years. The cultists were reacting… until now. Now, he thought. They will be putting new schemes in place.