David Leadbeater: Weapons of the Gods

The cargo chopper drifted toward the empty field.

Constant fire from the Apaches dampened their enemies’ resistance, making every person fear for their own safety. By the time Drake reached the base of the foothills and saw the desert plains opening out before him, there was no more gunfire. Still, they all moved cautiously with their weapons. The big chopper touched down gently, its rear door lowering.

“RPG!” Mai yelled.

It came from nowhere, fortunately flying wide of the target. Mai and Smyth spotted a glint in the foothills and concentrated their fire as they ran. There were no more RPGs.

Drake’s boots hit the lowered door first. He knelt and turned, gun to shoulder, seeking enemies at their rear. Luther and Dahl were beside him, ranged across the ramp.

“Clear.”

The last person ran aboard, jumping at full stretch since the helicopter was already rising. Drake and two companions laid down a hail of covering gunfire.

“Are we alive?” Alicia asked from her place on the floor, staring out of the rear door.

“I certainly hope so,” Mai said. “Because you’re surely no angel.”

“And proud of it.”

Drake watched intently until they were out of missile range and the door had finally lumbered shut. Only then did he relax, dropping his gun and taking several deep breaths.

“That was bloody close.”

Molokai wriggled out of the heavy backpack, dust mushrooming from his clothes and filling the cabin. “And the artifact is intact.”

“Good,” Drake said. “Because that’s the last one. Where do we go from here?”

Hayden unhooked her satphone. “Let’s find out shall we?”

All hell had broken loose.

It quickly became apparent that a member of their team ran in the worst of harm’s way, fighting for her life. Suddenly everything began to escalate.

Lauren’s voice was strained and full of terror, humming desperately down the line thousands of miles away on the other side of the world.

“I’m out… I’m free… shit, wait.”

The whispered fear made Drake bunch his fists, desperately wishing he could help. Smyth was beside himself. Hayden had been trying to find out what was happening for six minutes now, but Lauren was fighting a lethal cat-and-mouse game.

Absolute silence descended in the back of the cargo chopper. It was at rest, sitting on a dark runway in a dark corner of Egypt, just waiting for a call to action.

What next?

They hadn’t expected this.

Lauren’s breath caught in her throat. There were no words among the team; even Alicia and Kenzie sat in silence and with utmost concern on their faces. Lauren’s next comments were barely audible.

“My God… they’re here.”

Hayden gripped the satphone hard. “Stay absolutely still. Do nothing.”

There was a shout and a large amount of rustling. A gunshot was heard. Lauren yelled out in shock. More rustling. One more gunshot.

Smyth stood just a meter from the phone, eyes closed tightly, fists to his temples. He said just one word: “Lauren?”

Voices came over the phone, deep and guttural: “Is she dead?”

“Looks like it.”

Smyth sank to his knees. Hayden held on to the phone and the open line in desperate hope, but didn’t hear Lauren’s voice at all. Just some shuffling.

“Better drag the bitch over here, Urban.”

Yeah, dispose of it where it belongs, hey Carmine? In the gutter.”

The entire team logged both names. Drake knew it was one of those moments when two identities would be forever remembered.

More rustling, and then a dragging sound. Both men were grunting. Drake saw Kinimaka and Kenzie turn away, not needing or wanting to hear what happened next. Alicia’s face was set in the hardest mask he’d ever seen.

“Get this fucker warmed up,” Smyth growled. “I know where I’m going next.”

Both men screamed then as two shots rang out. Drake thought he heard two bodies fall and then two more shots. It was a blessing to hear Lauren’s ragged voice.

“I’m okay,” she breathed. “They shot me. In the arm. But I’m okay. Faked it, ha ha. That’s the one thing I am good at.”

Smyth was suddenly on his knees, unable to hide the emotion. Hayden’s knuckles were pure white on the phone. “What’s happening over there?”

“Wait… I have to get clear.”

Three minutes later and after a good deal of panting and crunching she was back on the line.

“Goddamn, this hurts. I’m bleeding, but managed to wrap it.”

Drake spoke first. “Did you grab one of their guns?”

“Shit, no. I’m friggin’ useless.”

“No, you’re not,” Smyth said.

“Look, we’re hanging on by our fingertips here. We’re not soldiers. They’re gonna kill us.”

Hayden forced her voice to project calmness. “Are you safe for now? If so, tell us what happened.”

“Yeah, I’m bang in the middle of a huge parking lot, in between cars.” The New Yorker took a deep breath. “First, they took Kimberly.”

Drake tried hard to keep his mouth from falling open. “You mean Tempest? Shit.”

“Yeah, they snatched the Secretary and have her somewhere. I don’t know what’s happened. It was only… hours ago. We were planning to grab the President after his speech. I mean, not literally grab him, but Kimberly had organized anonymous press passes for us and it was clear to approach. She used her last favors with those passes, and somebody must have talked.”

“They have eyes and ears everywhere,” Kinimaka said.

“Anyway, they dragged poor Kimberly right out of the car in the parking lot. Just threw her into a black van in broad daylight. It was… horrible.”

Lauren’s voice was rising. Hayden told her to calm down. They couldn’t risk her being heard now. She may have found a good hiding place, but good hiding places were often the hardest to escape from.

“I ran. Luckily, I was close to the press conference so managed to find a place where they wouldn’t dare touch me. Hang on…”

Drake assumed she was checking the area. The team waited with bated breath.

“We’re clear, but I need to get this arm checked. It’s on fire.” Lauren fought down the panic again, resetting her core. “Look, despite all that, I did manage to talk to President Coburn.”

Drake was amazed. “Whoa, you did?”

“Yeah, I got up close and he recognized me. He was familiar with the code words too, which got me a private chat.”

Drake knew there was no code word. It was Lauren’s way of saving time. In truth, he had no doubt that she would have reminded him of the Blood King’s attack on DC and what had happened then. Coburn would have seen it as a warning sign, a cry for help from SPEAR.

“I laid it all out, plain and cold. A few advisors were there too; I couldn’t keep them out of it. I spoke of Tempest, the Spec Ops teams they left out in the cold, the weapons of the gods… everything.”

“Was he responsive?” Mai asked the question on all their minds.

“Yeah. Asked questions. Asked for dates. Lots of stuff.”

“Lauren,” Hayden said. “How the hell did you end up on the run?”

“When I finished talking to Coburn I stepped away a little and Rick Troy was standing right behind me. You know him — the presidential aide that’s part of Tempest. The asshole that’s been blocking us this whole time. Well, I grinned. I said: ‘Got you, bastard,’ and then I told Coburn to act fast as his life was in danger.”

“Great,” Hayden said. “Just wait. We have a lot to think about.”

“Or nothing,” Smyth said. “We’re going to DC.”

All this time, on another line, Cambridge of the British SAS had been listening. Now Hayden gave the floor to him.