Crouch moved into the first carriage and then approached the front. “A small driver’s carriage,” he called back, then popped his head through the door. “Shall we?”
Alicia liked his style. “Hell, yeah.”
Taking the train to its terminus seemed the best idea. At the very least it would shed some light on to the prime mover behind this spectacle, this statement. The team grabbed poles in imitation of a normal Tube train before grinning at each other a little self-consciously.
“I don’t exactly think it will be like the Northern Line at rush hour,” Russo said.
“More like the Personal Shopper line at Selfridges,” Caitlyn said.
Alicia spun as voices echoed down the tunnel. In another moment she saw feet and then Kevlar-jacketed bodies and hard faces. How the hell had Kenzie found them this time? She raised one of the guns she’d appropriated from the dead bus-riding mercs and took aim. Russo lined up beside her. Caitlyn screamed for Crouch to get the train started.
The engine juddered to life.
And the mercs piled on.
Alicia saw the glint of a flashing blade near the tail-end of the assault and knew that Kenzie had already found the Hercules — this then was her final onslaught.
All in, she thought, for the win.
An arm slammed down on her shoulder with crushing strength. Alicia took the pain and jabbed into the exposed armpit, drawing forth a shriek. Already another body was in her face, the vest of a tall man scraping her forehead. She brought a knee up, the close confines leaving her little choice, and felt him buckle. Realizing there was no way of stopping the mercs from boarding the still-unmoving train the Gold Team fell back to give themselves more room. A gunshot went off and a man fell between the train and the platform, hitting the tracks hard.
Alicia fired and ripped one of the champagne buckets away from its tenuous stand, using it like a baseball bat. Her target took the slam on the forehead. Blood spurted and flowed, spraying his colleagues as he collapsed to the floor. Others tripped over him. Alicia scrambled back to give them more room to fall.
At that moment the train rattled into motion. Its wheels gripped hard and a squeal emitted from the tracks below. Slow movement occurred. Those mercs left on the platform jumped for the doors. Alicia was torn — on the one hand wanting less enemies to fight but on the other unhappy about leaving them in the vicinity of the greatest treasure she had ever found.
Not that they could move the bloody thing.
But they could damage it. Losers often took to destroying or damaging that which they could not attain. The world suffered often and significantly because of it.
The train picked up speed. Mercs crowded down the second carriage. Alicia jumped onto a plush chair and fired, feeling a return bullet whizz past her ear. A window shattered. Another bullet thunked into the leather. She leapt over the end, gun whipping down and across the bridge of a nose. To her left Russo ran at them like a bowling ball, scattering them like pins. One man hit the window so hard he not only broke it, but fell through the resultant gap, dragged along between the rough wall and the train for a few meters.
Alicia winced. Even Kenzie, who she kept a constant eye on, flinched a little. Russo took advantage of his destructive rush and pounded on half-comatose men. In the end he had to launch himself headfirst to avoid a bullet.
The projectile pierced the roof of the train. Alicia noted Healey at her back, standing between her and Caitlyn. The ex-MI5 analyst in turn protected Crouch with a fully loaded pistol. Healey took a blow, but gave as good as he got. By now the train was rattling along at full speed and Crouch showed no signs of slowing down. Alicia estimated only half a dozen mercs remained back at the platform and, leaderless, they would probably fade away. Let them. The less people interested in the treasure the better for all of them.
Kenzie’s blade ripped through leather at her side. Alicia was suddenly face to face with the relic smuggler.
“I always make good on my promises,” Kenzie hissed.
“Really?” Alicia incapacitated another merc as she eyed her opponent. “Which gym did you choose?”
She sprang back as the blade sliced the air where her throat had been. Unbalanced by the bouncy, leather-bound seat she sprang back into the aisle. She moved forward. The train plowed on. The mercenaries advanced. Russo threw men left and right, took heavy blows and even a bullet to the side. Luckily, it only winged him, a scratch, nothing to write home about.
Then Healey cried out in pain. Alicia looked back. The young soldier was being forced up against a window by a merc with a meaty paw around his throat. Healey was off the ground, kicking wildly, disadvantaged by his position and unable to squeeze free. Alicia bounded over and smashed into the merc with a flying kick, sending him head over heels into the first carriage. Healey fell and choked. Caitlyn dispatched the merc with a pained grimace.
Alicia dragged Healey to his feet. “C’mon, Zacky boy. No one wants to die a virgin.”
“I’m not a—”
Then Kenzie was upon them. A slice of her blade passed over Alicia’s head and carved right through an upright pole, leaving the two ends sagging. A return chop missed Alicia’s arm and thudded off the carpet, sending fibers into the air. Alicia smashed her boot into Kenzie’s exposed midriff, sending her staggering into the seat and across the aisle.
In a second, Alicia was on her, straddling her lap, gripping the sword arm tight in one hand and punching hard with the other. Kenzie fought back the same way, trying to block Alicia’s punches and jerk her other arm free. They traded punches as the train whisked them through the darkness.
Then Crouch began to slow. Alicia felt the deceleration and struck even faster with her free hand. The blows began to get through, bruising Kenzie’s cheek, her forehead and then blacking an eye. Kenzie bucked wildly, trying to throw Alicia off but the Englishwoman only rode the waves.
“Yeehaw, bronco!” she cried, adrenalin pumping. “You’re not much of a ride, Bridget!”
Kenzie rolled, finally realizing that to make any headway she would have to release her weapon. The blade thudded to the carpet. Kenzie swiped up with a free hand, catching Alicia by surprise. The constant bucking gave her some wriggle room. Then Russo collided with Alicia and the mercenary leader was free.
Alicia landed on the discarded sword, wincing, but luckily it was lying flat.
“Get the fuck off me, Russo!”
“My bloody pleasure.”
Russo rolled just as the merc he was fighting punched downward. The blow struck Alicia on the bridge of the nose, making her see stars.
“Whoops.” Russo tried not to smirk. “My apologies for that.”
He heaved the merc away. Alicia rolled, seeing a new attacker tackled by Healey before he could reach her. Standing up, she gripped an upright pole for balance. It took a moment for the stars to subside. By then, Crouch was slowing fast and the momentum of the train had ceased. All of a sudden the darkness that pressed down on the windows cleared and they shot into the light, emerging onto another platform. Alicia could see by the bricked-up tunnel ahead that they had reached the end of the line.
“Of course!” Crouch exclaimed loudly from the driver’s carriage. Then he came crashing through the door. “What’s in a direct line from the Wellington Arch straight up Piccadilly?”
“Michael, I’m a little busy right now.” Alicia took a merc’s head under her arm and squeezed him into submission.
“You know it!” Crouch shouted in his enthusiasm. “You saw it before. A playground for the privileged.”
Alicia saw the doors that led to the platform sliding open. An archway stood off to the left and stairs beyond that. Double doors that might be an elevator. Benches coated in pure white leather, studded and decorated with bespoke carvings. A closed mini bar constructed in the finest dark woods.