“Hark at the fucking travel guide. Keep your eyes open.”
“Always, ma’am.”
Alicia choked and Russo grinned, knowing how she hated the title. She ignored him, studying the hotel balconies at her side and the landscape ahead. Surely the Hawaiian agents would have been given a room number by now.
She plucked her radio off its webbed belt.
And somewhere above, the first shots rang out. Bullets strafed the turf all around her boots, making her dance like a manic Irish dancer.
“Fuck!”
A fast glance up told the story. Terrorists were crowding onto a first-floor balcony, faces grim and determined, carrying an assortment of shotguns, semi-autos and pistols. Among them she saw the mad boss, Ricci, and a brief peek of Terri.
Those aiming down fired again.
Alicia and Russo dived headlong, rolling toward the nearest cover. Bullets marked their path. Men leaned over the balcony, surveying all directions. Screams started to sound around the hotel and its grounds as people heard gunfire.
Alicia scrambled behind one of the rolling turf banks, seeing that the gunmen were distracted by something, and trying to get an idea of what was going on.
“Looks like Ricci has reinforcements.”
Three men were carrying something toward the edge of the balcony. A mattress. Carefully, they tipped it over the edge and let it fall. Three more men then appeared carrying a second, which they managed to drop onto the first. Instantly then, the lead gunman jumped onto the railing.
“Cops must be heading for the front door,” Russo said.
“Yeah, as usual somebody tipped them off. I guess it’s up to us now.”
Russo sighed. “Just another day at the office with Miss Myles.”
“Ooh, I like that. You make it sound dirty.”
Russo smiled, knowing the camaraderie was necessary, and lined up the first terrorist as he leapt over the balcony.
“Shall we?”
“No need to ask.”
Russo fired, catching the man in the stomach and spinning him around. Blood burst across the grass and the mattresses as he fell dead. Another man was already jumping, gun clasped across his chest, and his eyes suddenly grew wide. Above though, the terrorists showed at least a modicum of training as they crouched between the rails and gave him cover by firing at Alicia and Russo.
The Englishwoman rolled back to safety. Her radio crackled.
“Vino here. Can you see what’s going on back there?”
“Yeah, they know you’re coming and are jumping out the back. We’re under fire.”
“Shit. Numbers?”
“At least a dozen. But our friendlies are among them.”
“To be expected, I guess. We’re breaching the door in sixty.”
“Make it twenty.”
Alicia hooked the radio onto her belt and rolled again. Three men were standing on the mattress, taking aim at her area of cover. She shot one, making him collapse and fall into the building. His colleagues fired back as another man jumped and another climbed onto the balcony railing.
Russo was scrambling to alternate cover. Once there he peeked out, took aim, and picked off another terrorist. Instantly, gunfire came from above, peppering his hiding place. One of the bullets tugged at his jacket. Russo crawled clear.
Alicia shot one of the terrorists balancing on top of the rail and saw him fall amongst the men below. Nevertheless, more men crowded forward and blanketed her hiding place with bullets.
Alicia slithered down the bank and away.
She found herself skirting the first pool, a shallow, tropical-blue, heart-shaped puddle surrounded by palm trees. The water looked inviting. Alicia turned her nose up at it and scrambled back up the bank, emerging at a different vantage point. As she crawled she saw civilians on the left, running toward the parking areas and further up the beach.
At least one thing was going right.
Among the greenery, she peered out. Six men now guarded the mattresses and another three were up top. Three more were visible just coming out of the room, herding Terri and Crouch between them. Alicia glimpsed Ricci too, standing behind Crouch.
A noise came from the room, something loud. That’d be Vino breaching.
And then everything went to hell. Alicia gaped as terrorists launched themselves off the first floor balcony, arms and legs and heads filling the air and clattering against each other as they fell. Seconds later Crouch and Terri and their captors were either pushed or jumping, the mattresses grew crowed. Bones broke. Guns and knives flew in all directions. Men fell, sprawled and staggered into the side of the hotel.
Alicia took her chance.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
She broke cover and flew at them. As she ran she saw Ricci wildly push the banner over the edge and then follow it down. The long, well-wrapped package smashed one terrorist to the ground and bounced off the shoulder of another, sending him tottering away. Those few men that had held on to their guns, trained them upward, expecting the cops to check the balcony first.
Alicia struck them hard, knocking two men off their feet and grabbing a knife as she rolled. Then Russo hit like a charging bull, scattering terrorists like bowling pins. Men turned or scrambled up from their knees only to receive punches to the face. Alicia ducked and strode through the melee, jabbing her knife here and there and drawing blood or making scars. Red filled her vision.
Russo lifted a man by the jacket and hurled him against the wall. This movement, however powerful, left him vulnerable. A terrorist stabbed him in the jacket — a bruising blow but one that only hit thick protection.
Alicia found herself rolling across Terri.
“You okay?”
“I… have no idea.”
Then a man blindsided her, coming in from the side, taking her off her feet and toward the brick wall. Alicia folded and rolled, hitting the floor and sending him on his way. It was his own spine that struck the ungiving surface. The area rang to the sound of groans and crunching. Russo fell over outstretched feet but managed to take his opponent down with him.
Alicia saw Crouch just meters in front of her, fighting a terrorist and receiving a blow to the face that left him bloody. She shouted and leapt across.
Only to be stiff-armed in the face by a solid blow. She saw stars and swayed in place, looked over and received a hard punch to the jaw. Even as blood filled her vision she knew it was Ricci. The bastard had blindsided her.
She darted sideways, wiping and flicking the blood away. Using a terrorist’s back to gain some height, she leapt up and came down hard, elbow first. Ricci blocked the blow and delivered a harsh punch to her ribs. Alicia took it without protest and used the space to deliver a crunching blow to his right cheekbone. Pain filled the man’s eyes and he ducked away.
At that point the cops arrived, looking out over the balcony and then immediately firing down at the ground. Alicia heard someone — probably Vino — screaming at the hotheads to cease, but everyone could all be dead before that happened.
She rolled into the side of the building even as Ricci shrieked at his men to grab their weapons and run.
The order panicked and galvanized every single one of them. With most of them grunting in pain, they scooped up discarded guns and knives and ran away from immediate cover, in the direction of the pools. Russo was on his knees, a man unmoving beneath him. He tried to grab another but received a kick and a gun-barrel-blow to the head. Russo made no sound, just shrugged it off.
Alicia saw Ricci with Crouch pulled into his chest. Both men ran, but Crouch’s feet were practically off the ground. Terri had a gun to her head and was forced to join the run. At that point the police stopped firing and the terrorists streamed across the open grass.
Alicia counted Ricci and eleven men, all of whom bore various wounds, and then Crouch and Terri. With the loud clatter of gunfire mercifully stopped for now, her ears rang in the silence.