David Leadbeater: Caribbean Gold

“Jeez, you take a hit back there? Scramble what few brains ya got left? Now listen — they have Healey and Caitlyn in here. Healey’s been taking some damage. You ready?”

Russo held up two guns and two knives he’d taken from his own container. “Yeah, Myles. Are you?”

Alicia took her weapons without comment, then rubbed sharply at the place where one of the bruisers had socked her in the jaw. In her line of work such an injury wasn’t unusual but she wished more than a day or two could go by between the knocks.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Alicia wrenched the bars that opened the doors and Russo barreled his way inside. Her first view was of his back and then the square box opened up to her eyes. Men stared in shock from various positions around the walls. Several were seated, caught out. A younger man standing by the only table in the room reached for one of the guns that lay there, but Russo shot him. Alicia opened fire and took down another. Her eyes happened upon a rifle that lay next to another handgun, confirming the remainder of a plan she’d been hatching in her mind. No time for that now though. Men flew at her from the edges of the container.

Healey’s head was hanging, a ribbon of blood pooling onto the floor at his feet. Caitlyn stared fixedly, unharmed, but almost unable to believe help had arrived in time to save them. Alicia willed her to remain as still as possible.

She remained close to the table, not allowing anyone to get past her and reach the weapons. A knife-wielder slashed at her throat but Alicia managed to fend him off, using her own blade to take him down. A man then flung himself at her, causing a wild back-peddle. She crashed into the table itself which broke under the impact, all four legs shattering and breaking away. Handguns tumbled and the rifle slithered to the side. Alicia dropped her knife but picked up one of the table legs and battered her opponent across the face. He rolled away, groaning. She jumped on him, then saw a blur rush by to her right, spun again and snagged the man’s legs just as he reached down for a weapon,

Desperate, she tugged his ankles, dragging him away.

It was a chaotic fray, reminiscent of a schoolyard scrap but much more dangerous. Alicia battered at both men with the table leg, then jumped atop the second man who was closest to the guns. A compact jab to the back of the neck took the fight out of him.

Russo tackled three, the soldier clearly knowing it was important to thin the herd as early as possible. One he shot, the other he collided with head on. Then he tripped but held on to the gun, firing upward as a man descended on him with a machete.

Machete!

The weapon sent even Russo’s blood boiling. Luckily said weapon only clattered to about an inch away from him, useless as its wielder collapsed dead on the floor. Before Russo sat Healey and Caitlyn, and beyond that Alicia still struggled. Another enemy figure stood close to Healey.

Alicia sat up and took a bead on the last man standing.

“Stand back, asshole.”

“Name’s Mike. What’s yours?”

“Stand the fuck away.”

Mike turned a little so that Alicia could see the bright blade he held poised at Healey’s neck. “Say what?”

Alicia picked up a gun and aimed it in a single movement. Russo made it clear he was also holding one. Mike merely grinned. “You want to save this kid. You let me go.”

Alicia saw the blade had already drawn a streak of red. “Stop.”

“Put your guns down. Let me walk.”

Alicia knew it would be straight to the next container for backup.

“Put the blade down and we’ll let you walk.”

“You hurt him, you die,” Russo added. “Only way out is to comply.”

Mike struggled visibly with it, torn between wanting to be anywhere but here and signaling his crew. The odds were not good and he clearly knew it. Alicia let him sweat, knowing the more he wavered the less sharp he’d be when the time came. As he vacillated Caitlyn stared Healey right in the eyes.

“He’s also playing for time,” she said.

Alicia tightened her grip on the gun. Mike flexed the muscles of his arm, blade about to dig deeper, but then Healey himself rose up, ties breaking, pulling away from the blade and swiping at Mike’s face. Shocked, the merc tried to lunge forward, knife wavering. As soon as the tiniest gap opened up, Alicia fired. Mike fell away, groaning, the knife clattering to the floor. He made a quick lunge but Alicia jumped in hard with blows to the abdomen. Mike’s forehead cracked the floor as he fell asleep.

Alicia met Healey’s wide eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec.”

“Thought you were gonna sit there all day,” she said airily.

Healey regarded her as if seeing her for the first time. “You kidding?”

“Do they still have Michael?” Caitlyn asked, although the answer was clearly obvious.

“Yep,” Alicia said. “I’ve rescued three quarters of you. Thought I’d save the boss till last.”

“Oh shit, we’re never going to hear the end of it,” Russo moaned.

“Damn right.” Alicia grinned.

“Hey, Myles, if it was up to you,” Russo blustered. “Poor ole Healey would still be sitting there.”

“Hey…”

“No time,” Caitlyn said.

Russo jumped for the rifle.

Alicia hurried through the weapons and handed the best suited to Healey and Caitlyn. The researcher of the team knew how to hold and use a handgun, and had a few combat skills since Healey decided she needed to know at least enough to keep her alive. Well done, Zack, Alicia thought. That was some fine forward thinking. Together, the three of them rushed out of the open container doors and back into the night.

The first thing Alicia felt was a welcome breeze on her face and a lifting of the cloying heat that had settled over them all despite the rudimentary air conditioning. The second thing she saw was the nearby container doors slamming open and four men rushing out. They held rifles with attached sights and camo jackets. Alicia lined them up, staying out in the open.

“First to move is target practice,” she said easily.

The four men spread out, covered now by Healey and Caitlyn too. Alicia could almost smell the fear washing off Caitlyn but a quick glance revealed no clear presence of it. Good. Alicia gave Caitlyn a reassuring nod.

Next out of the container came Crouch, a scared-looking stranger, two more thugs, and a man with the air of a leader. Not least because he still held a glass of dark liquid in one hand.

“Well, well,” he said. “There’s another one of you.”

Alicia couldn’t help but stare. Despite his well-bred accent this man had an air, an aura that reminded her of her boyfriend. And the way he carried himself, the steely blue eyes and confident gait. She was pretty sure he was military, if not the SAS. But he showed no obvious signs of recognition.

“Michael,” she said, exuding a confidence of her own. “I’m assuming the scared guy there is your contact?”

Their boss nodded quickly, giving no names away but helping Alicia decide who exactly belonged in the enemy camp.

“John Jensen,” the leader of the crew offered and raised his glass. “Good night for it, eh?”

Another bloody crackpot, Alicia thought. Is the world so full of them?

“Hand him over,” she said, “and we all live to fight another day.”

Jensen nodded agreeably. “Sure, sure. We’ll get to that. Michael here was just telling me about your little quest.”

Alicia grunted. “Well, lucky you. That’s more than he told me. I just got here.”

Jensen laughed. “Very good. But, look, I’m running out of rum here. Can we move matters along?”