David Leadbeater - Caribbean Gold

And was left standing, her opponent battered and out cold at her feet.

Russo tangled with Levy, dodging knife blows, catching two on his own Walther which he used as a metal shield. The knife thrusts came fast and deadly, but Russo turned them all. Alicia came up close.

“Need help, fat boy?”

Russo glared, then saw Levy’s knife nick a sliver of flesh from his right arm. When the next attack came he fell to his knees, brought the gun around and simply shot Levy in the gut. Fight over. Alicia let out a breath.

“Was wondering why you just didn’t shoot the cock-end.”

“I needed the practice,” Russo whined. “Haven’t been in a knife fight for months. And who the hell are you calling fat boy, you dumb bitch?”

“Ooh, Robster. You really need to work on those insults. And loosen up. I’m just pulling your leg. If you haven’t figured that out by now, boy, you surely never will.”

“I’ve known a few bit—”

But Alicia was no longer listening.

Her eyes had fixed on Caitlyn Nash and her distraught face. And then on Crouch’s which was fixed in an expression of utter agony.

And then she knew.

For Alicia there was no hilltop, no weather, no hot sun and no grass. There was no lofty, malformed tree. There were no surroundings, no thought, not even a single ounce of breath. Everything in her world encompassed a single solitary figure.

Zack Healey.

The youngest of them all, the one with the most promise. Healey loved Caitlyn. And Healey had thrown himself in front of her when the pirate leader opened fire. They all assumed because Caitlyn was fine the pirate had shot wide, and then they went instantly into action. They never thought Healey had taken the bullets.

Alicia fell at his side now, tears streaming down her face. Caitlyn leaned over the dead man’s body, heaving, her breaths as ragged as a serrated blade. Crouch stared at Healey’s ashen face in horror, every feature frozen.

Alicia reached out a hand, watched as her fingers trembled.

“Zack?”

Russo, the big, gruff hard man, fell alongside his friend and sobbed, moans wracking his entire body. He placed a huge arm across Healey’s shoulders and buried his face into the ground. Caitlyn crawled closer and held on so tight she might never move again.

The sun waned in the western skies. No sound existed save for the team’s misery and the seeping of blood into the hard ground. Not from one but from over a hundred men.

In the end it was the helicopters that moved them. They might have stayed there the rest of the day and all night, into the next dawn, but the blood-red sunset heralded the choppers filled with police and agencies that Crouch knew, and made them sit back, stare up into the skies — see the clouds and the glorious sunset and the yellow sunshine that their colleague would never see again — and consider all they had lost.

It was true that you didn’t value what you had until you realized that someone close to you would never see it again. From the most wondrous trip to the swings in your garden. From the greatest, free feeling to the picture of your children on your mantelpiece. One day, there every day, taken for granted — the next something you just can’t grasp anymore and wished you’d given more of yourself to.

I will see it all for you. Alicia rose from Healey’s body, face red and streaked. And I will never say no to or push aside the people I love ever again.

Crouch looked up into the crimson sunset. “I… I don’t know what to do next.”

Caitlyn rose with him, slowly, shakily, her own face turned upward. “We finish what we all started. We finish this as a team.”

Alicia turned away, eyes brimming anew.

The flight to Wales was long and subdued, the team at first all lying back, trying to come to terms with Healey’s death and their own feelings, not to mention their own weariness after such a long, intense battle. Those that could, ate. Those that wanted to, consumed alcohol. Others downed sugary drinks because they knew sleep was days away. At first the jet slipped through the clouds in silence, each member of the Gold Team lost in their own reveries, but then Caitlyn crept next to Crouch and Russo came over to Alicia. Soon, they were whispering and then meeting each other’s eyes. Then they were feeling a little comforted as they saw the shared grief in faces like mirror images.

As the journey stretched from painful to insufferable, Caitlyn eased its passing by reading out everything she could find about Henry Morgan’s hometown. “Since he was known as the greatest of all the ‘brethren of the coast’, Wales and its storytellers appear to have embraced Morgan’s tale. He was born at Llanrumney Hall on his father’s farm in 1635. It’s in Monmouthshire. And of course he died, Sir Henry Morgan, having been knighted for his… actions all along the Spanish Main. Interestingly, Monmouthshire borders both part of the South Wales coast and England, making it easy to slip into and out of.”

“And Llanrumney Hall?” Crouch asked. “His home. Does it still stand?”

Caitlyn hesitated, a far-away look hitting her eyes and a tear starting to form. Crouch reached out to touch her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Alicia felt Russo wilt a little beside her, reached out and put an arm around the big man’s shoulders. She had never offered so much of herself emotionally to anyone except one man. Russo smiled as best he could.

“It may still stand,” Caitlyn finished after an unknown time. “Llanrumney Hall was turned into a pub long ago. It’s still there.”

“So we end all of this in a pub?” Alicia said. “That’ll do. I hope to God it has lodgings too, ’cause I’ll be drinking the place dry.”

“Won’t help,” Crouch said.

“For an hour or two it will,” Alicia said. “And I’ll deal with the rest head on.”

“We all will. Together,” Russo said.

“Wonder if it sells rum?” Alicia said, then added, “I thought Healey might have said that.”

It brought the slightest relief to all their faces. “That he would,” Crouch said and Caitlyn nodded.

The plane flew fast through the night, chartered by the team’s benefactor and totally private. It was a fast jet, since they had lost many hours with Healey and then the cops, giving Jensen the chance to find a way to Britain if he chose to do so. Indeed, a later check of one of his aliases showed he had done just that.

And the location of Morgan’s home wasn’t exactly private knowledge.

Alicia counted the hours down, flicked her mind through what she knew of Healey’s past and tried to be a comfort to Russo and the others. Very soon she would have to return to her primary unit. The toll of this mission was going to make everything harder — every problem she would have to deal with back there and every outcome.

“This is the last location for me,” Alicia told them whilst she had the chance. “If all this leads to is another note, or letter, I can’t promise I’ll tag along.”

Crouch looked hurt. “Not running away?” he asked, an unnecessarily hurtful charge.

“No,” she said simply, easily. “Going home. If you can, maybe you guys should too. At least for a short while.”

She thought about their pasts and then grimaced. Caitlyn had no remaining family and neither did Crouch. She didn’t know about Russo, but Alicia considered her team her family so maybe they should actually stick together.

“Actually, scratch that last comment,” she said. “Who the hell am I to be handing out advice? Not a rebel without a cause — more a lost girl without a clue.”

Russo finally managed a smile. “Never a truer word came out of your mouth.”