Kim turned to Scarlet. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I’m not leading a bunch of bounty hunters here. I’ve been instructed by the US Secretary of State to apprehend Wade and shut this cult down and that’s what we’re going to do. We’re not pirates, Sloane.”
“Ouch,” Lexi said.
“Take it easy, darling,” Scarlet said. “You’ll live longer.”
Kim’s eyes widened with anger. “Is that a threat?”
Reaper intervened, pushing the two women apart. “Ladies perhaps you can carry this on later, but for now…” he flicked his chin at Aurora.
Kim and Scarlet looked daggers at each other as they stood down. Kim knew the former legionnaire was right, and she was too professional to let someone like Scarlet Sloane bait her like this during an important mission. She turned to Jack Camacho as he lifted the display monitor of a laptop and fired it up.
“What have we here, I wonder?” he said.
Aurora was standing in front of Doyle now, her hands still cuffed behind her. She looked nervous as the laptop flickered to life.
Kim looked at Camacho, suddenly expectant. “What is it, Jack?”
“Looks like something we could use.”
“I don’t know about anyone else,” Reaper said. “But I could use a bottle of Bordeaux.”
“Count me in,” Scarlet said.
“How professional,” said Kim with a sideways glance.
“But I’m not a professional, am I?” Scarlet said. “I’m a bounty hunter, I thought.”
Kim ignored her and leaned in to take a closer look but it was all written in Spanish. “What is that, an invoice for something?”
Camacho nodded his head. “Uh-huh — it’s an invoice, all right. It’s detailing a whole bunch of NBC suits, Geiger counters — you name it. All bought off the internet from mostly Chinese manufacturers.”
Doyle winced. “That’s not filling my day with joy, Jack. Got anything to cheer me up?”
Camacho spun around in the swivel chair. “Sure do — the address where it all went is loud and clear.”
Aurora squirmed in Doyle’s grip.
“Where is it?”
Kim tapped it into her iPhone as Camacho read it out.
She frowned. “Looks like it must be Wade’s coffee plantation in Guerrero from the looks of the satellite images. We’ve finally found his little hidey-hole.”
“But why would Morton Wade be getting deliveries of NBC suits to a coffee plantation?” Doyle muttered almost to himself.
Lexi stared at the satellite image. “Flying them on somewhere maybe?”
Kim frowned. “Maybe. We’re going to need to open this up to the Mexicans. I’ll call Jack.”
Camacho “You called?”
“Not you, Camacho… unless you’re the Secretary of Defense these days?”
Camacho made a big show of looking at his reflection in the laptop screen. “No… sorry. Just the same old ugly bastard I was when I woke up.”
Then everything changed.
With no warning and as fast as lighting, Aurora suddenly sprang to life. Somehow she’d removed her cuffs while her hands were behind her back and she used the first two seconds of freedom to pull Doyle’s weapon from his holster and shoot him in the back. The bullet burst through his chest and ricocheted off the far wall as Agent Doyle fell forwards dead, and then all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It happened faster than Camacho could believe. As Doyle slumped to the floor dead, Aurora spat with venom: “That’s just the start.” She fired blindly into the room, scattering the team for cover behind desks, couches and filing cabinets.
Camacho, Kim, Scarlet and the others could scarcely believe what had happened right under their noses, but wasted no time in drawing their weapons and giving chase, with Camacho taking a final glance at Doyle as he ran after his assassin, clenching his jaw in rage at the brutal murder.
Aurora slid down the banister of the sweeping stairs, firing behind her as she went and slipped out of their reach like a phantom. She fled the building and sprinted across the courtyard. They watched through the landing window as Aurora Soto, as cool as ice, used Doyle’s Sig and blasted the Explorer’s tires to shreds. Kim watched helplessly as their SUV sank down onto its wheel rims.
“Damn it all..!” Camacho said, pounding a meaty fist against the wall.
“There’s only one way after her now,” added Lexi.
They all looked at each other and said at the same time: “The Beetle.”
They made their way down the central staircase and used an internal door to access the garage. Sitting in the semi-darkness was the same old Beetle they had seen when they arrived at the mansion. But there was no time for hesitation, because seconds later Aurora revved the Porsche and was skidding out of the compound.
“We have to get out of here right now!” Kim yelled. “She’s getting away!”
“Everyone get in!” Camacho said, staring at the Beetle.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Lexi yelled. “This piece of crap up against a Boxster?”
“But you haven’t seen my driving, babe,” Camacho said. “And I have a friend’s death to avenge. That adds more speed.”
“This could damage my street credibility,” Scarlet said.
“You have street credibility?” Kim said.
“You know what they say about the difference between Beetles and porcupines — porcupines have the pricks on the outside.”
Kim shook her head. “For your information, my parents used to drive a Beetle.”
“Oh,” Scarlet said coolly. “I’m very sorry.”
“You’re such an asshole, Sloane.”
“What? I apologized!”
“Are we all safely buckled up?” Camacho said over the top of them, and then reversed it out into the cobblestone yard. He swung the wheel hard to the right and spun the decrepit car around one-eighty. The CIA man then stamped on the throttle and the little VW shot off out of the yard and bounced off the kerb hard. He jammed his foot down on the pedal as hard as he could as he steered toward the highway at the top of the hill in pursuit of the Porsche.
The hill gradient increased, and Camacho responded by flooring the accelerator pedal and dropping down into third. This increased torque to get the Beetle up the incline, but the much more powerful Boxster convertible was now well ahead and streaking back down the other side of the hill toward Acapulco.
They finally reached the highway and hung a fast left to hit the northbound lane going down the road to central Acapulco, but the rear-end of the Beetle swung out on the turn and skidded into the oncoming traffic. Dozens of cars flashed past in a hail of horns and fist-waving.
Scarlet shook her head. “This has gone far enough,” she said. “Being seen in this thing is the last straw.”
She gripped the back of Camacho’s seat and stood up in the back of the convertible before loosing a savage volley of fire at the racing Boxster but they all went high.
Not to be outdone, Lexi followed suit and fired a shot at the Porsche’s rear tire. The bullet shredded the rubber and the German sports car spun out of control. As Lexi gave Scarlet a smug look, the rear-end of the Boxster juddered with the loss of the tire and skidded out into the oncoming traffic for a second or two. Aurora was thrown all over the place as she struggled to correct the skid and punch the car as hard as she could down the hill on three tires.
“Where did you learn to shoot again?” Lexi asked.
Scarlet let the comment slide and struggled to get a second shot as the Beetle skidded around all over the hot asphalt. With one of her tires blown out they all knew they had a chance now and Camacho pushed hard to draw level with her, swerving the dilapidated Beetle to avoid a collision with a U-Haul truck dawdling up the hill.