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David Leadbeater

Last Man Standing

DEDICATION

For all the writers who weaved their words and captured me, from an early age, within their wonderful webs:

Enid Blyton, Franklin W. Dixon, Graham Masterton, Stephen King, Peter Straub, Stephen Donaldson, JRR Tolkien, David Eddings, Terry Brooks, HP Lovecraft, Robert E. Howard, Robert Crais, Andy McDermott, Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child, James Rollins…

CHAPTER ONE

If the last year or so had taught him anything, it had taught Matt Drake that to stay on top of things he had to act quickly, and that despite the fact that some people were beginning to think he might indeed be a one-man disaster area, to dwell and tarry and hope for the best could end up costing his friends, and occasionally the rest of the planet, everything they held dear. If fate had chosen him to be the world’s soldier of fortune, its ready champion, then so be it.

With these thoughts still half-formed in his mind he dropped everything the moment he walked out of Hayden’s hospital room and turned to Mai.

“Ben’s funeral is in four days,” he said. “In Leeds, Yorkshire. That gives us time to fly to Russia, search Zoya’s place, and then attend.”

Mai only shrugged. “After all the talk of this supposed tournament invite, I thought you may want to remain here and see if Coyote contacts you too.”

“Let’s take the bitch by the horns,” Drake said. “This tournament could all be a load of bollocks, but know for a fact that Zoya was in contact with Coyote on behalf of the Blood King. We’ll worry about this supposed tourney and our bloody non-existent invitations another time.”

Mai sighed. “If that’s what I have to do to get some alone time with the man of my dreams then let’s go. Now.”

“My thoughts exactly. Almost.”

“But what about me?”

Drake turned to see the eighteen-year-old Grace standing behind Mai. “Hey, I can think of a million reasons why you should stay put. The Japanese are trying to find your parents. They’re trying to find you—who you are. Your memory loss is being addressed. You’re safer here. We don’t know who might be looking for you.”

Grace pouted. “That’s five at best. Not a million.”

Mai crouched down and laid a hand on the young girl’s shoulders. “It is best you stay, koibito. The authorities may need your help too. We won’t be gone for long.”

“All right.” Grace’s face showed that she already understood the reality of the situation and had been playing Drake. Wiser than her years, this girl had potential. Drake berated himself for thinking of her as a possible asset, rather than a victim that should be reunited with her parents.

“So who’s best to hang with around here?” Grace wondered. “The soldier Smyth likes Mai but tries not to show it. He likes Lauren too, but in a different way.” The young girl almost blushed. “He’s cool though. Kinimaka and Hayden are into each other, and always seem lost in each other. What of Yorgi? He seems okay, too.”

Drake made a face at Mai. “Not sure I’d recommend any of ‘em for looking after an eighteen-year-old, love. Probably best on your own.”

Mai narrowed her eyes at him. “They’re all responsible,” she said. “You may depend on everyone and learn from what they share. Except Smyth,” she added. “Ignore him.”

“And what will your colleagues think when they find that you have left them?”

“Our colleagues…” Drake nodded at the closed hospital room door. “Will understand.”

* * *

Entry into Russia was a tad easier of late, what with Putin sticking the majority of his nose into the Ukraine and the rest of the country becoming distracted. A White House call to a friendly Russian controller ensured a flight got the green light without delay. Funds may have been exchanged, possibly even a vehicle, but none of that troubled Drake and Mai. Their mission was clear and precise, and had to be carried out speedily. By the time the wheels squealed their greeting to Russian tarmac, the pair were donning equipment; and even before the doors were opened Drake was cajoling the pretty stewardess to just let him do a ‘jump-and-roll’.

Mai managed a lot of eye-rolling at his back.

The stewardess kept it together admirably, remembering her health and safety training, and finally allowed them to disembark with a happy smile. A priority customs check and a fast car had them close to Zoya’s place in good time, and Drake found that he could finally relax.

“So,” he leaned back in his seat and spread his knees, “wanna hop aboard?”

Mai raised her brows. “I don’t believe our driver would approve, do you?”

“No worries. I don’t think he speaks English. Or Japanese. Besides, we’ll make it quick.”

“Don’t be a goof. You know what I mean.”

Drake sighed. “I guess. But, you know, since we got back together.” He spread both hands. “Hasn’t been a whole lot of us time available. Too busy saving the world.”

“You don’t remember that waterfall on the island near Korea?”

“Sounds more romantic than it actually was. But yeah, there are certain parts that stick in my mind.”

“Then what? You getting soft on me, Drake? Don’t tell me you want to start doing it in an actual bed?”

“I’d never go soft on you, Mai,” Drake said with a straight face. “And didn’t I just offer to do it right here?”

“Perv.”

“I should know by now that I’ll never win.”

Mai smiled. “There you go. You have discovered the first step to a healthy relationship.”

“Japanese proverb?”

“Female proverb.”

“But seriously.” Drake placed a hand over hers. “Maybe we should take some time. Soon. Since we’re based in the US we’ll call it a vacation. A road trip. Whatever.”

Mai stared into the middle-distance, her expression suddenly hard. “You’re right about one thing. We should talk. I did something in Tokyo to a largely innocent man, something I now regret. It haunts me.”

“So let’s talk it through.”

“‘Talk it through’,” Mai echoed. “I murdered a man, Matt. To help find my parents. Gyuki made me murder a money launderer.”

Drake knew enough to say nothing at first, but then he said, “Triad?”

“No. Not Triad. Not exactly. Look, we’re here. Let’s do this another time.”

“Sure.”

Their Russian driver threaded the vehicle carefully through the bulk of Zoya’s property. Drake stared out the window and took in the sights, recalling the crazy assault, the fences and shattered guard towers, the trees that had secreted booby-traps, and the front porch where the crazed behemoth had spectacularly missed the most important kick of her life.

The silence between the couple stretched until their driver pulled up outside. Mai exited quickly, making Drake scramble to follow her. The Russians had said they’d already cleared Zoya’s place, sure, but both Drake and Mai knew from experience that Russian-built products and promises weren’t perfectly reliable.

Drake drew a handgun, an FBI issue Glock that rather surprisingly didn’t employ a contemporary safety, and hissed at Mai to tread carefully. The Japanese woman ignored him, crossing the threshold into Zoya’s house with only a cursory check. After that, however, she slowed down. Drake motioned to the right.

“Wonder if those cookies are still in the oven?”

Mai used her senses to test the new environment. “We’re alone,” she said. “Let’s get busy.”

Drake pocketed the Glock, having complete faith in her. “All right. Should we start with the treasure mountain?”