The vast warehouse surrounded her, resounding with gunshots, spacious enough to be unsettling, the rafters so high they could easily hide an unfriendly antagonist. She peered over the top of the crates.
“I think we’re good,” she said. “Seems that they have more than one operation going on here.”
Kenzie ran up, brandishing the Sword of Mars. “What is it?”
Dahl crouched by the flatbed’s huge wheel. “Keep an eye out. We have more than one enemy here.”
Hayden sifted the straw. “Stolen goods,” she said. “Must be a waypoint. Quite an assortment here.”
Kenzie drew out a golden statue. “They have teams doing house raids. Burglaries. It’s a huge business. Everything gets shipped off, sold on or melted down. The conscience behind these crimes rates is below zero.”
Dahl whispered, “To your left.”
Hayden ducked behind a crate, sighted her prey and opened fire.
Lauren Fox followed Mano Kinimaka into the lion’s den. She saw Smyth take out an adversary and leave him for dead. She saw Yorgi pick the lock of an office door, enter and declare it obsolete in less than a minute. Every day, she tried desperately to keep up. Every day, she worried she might lose her place in the team. This was part of why she courted Nicholas Bell’s favor, why she ran the comms and looked for other ways to help.
She loved the team, and wanted to stay a part of it.
Now, she stayed at the back, Glock in hand and hoping she wouldn’t have to use it. The flatbeds took up most of her vision, outsized and terrible. The warheads were a dull greenish color, non-reflective, surely one of the most menacing shapes the modern human mind might summon up. Smyth engaged with a large guard, took several blows and then disabled the guy just as Lauren was sneaking up to help. To her right Kinimaka shot two more. Bullets began to crisscross the warehouse as the rest realized they were under attack.
At the back, she saw several guards break for the cab of the flatbed.
“Watch out,” she keyed the comms, “I can see men headed around the front. My God, are they gonna try to drive them outta here?”
“Oh no,” DC voiced the reply to everyone. “You have to neutralize those nukes. If these guys have the launch codes, even one being loosed would be catastrophic. Listen, all six must be neutralized. Now!”
“Fuckin’ easy for you to say,” Alicia muttered. “Wrapped in your dressing gown and sipping yer frothy cappuccino. Wait, I see them heading for the cab here too.”
Drake switched directions, seeing that he could race down this side of the flatbed and meet no opposition. Waving to Alicia, he set off fast.
Mai’s voice cut through his concentration. “Watch your feet!”
Wha…?
A man wearing a thick black leather jacket came sliding under the flatbed, legs outstretched. By luck or clever design they struck Drake at the shins and sent him tumbling. The machine pistol skidded on ahead. Drake ignored the new set of bruises and scrambled under the truck just as the guard opened fire. Bullets scored the concrete in his wake. The guard pursued him, gun out.
Drake scrambled right under the truck, conscious of the enormous weapon above his head. The guard ducked, then crouched. Drake fired his Glock, and took the man’s forehead apart. A scramble of footsteps came from behind and then he was tackled hard, the weight of another man crashing down on top of him. Drake’s chin struck the ground, sending stars and blackness swirling into his vision. His teeth smashed together, tiny chippings cracked off. Pain exploded everywhere. He rolled, smashed an elbow into a face. A gun came up, fired; the bullets missed Drake’s skull by an inch and went straight up, into the base of the nuke.
Drake felt the adrenaline surge. “That’s a—” he grabbed the man’s head and struck it against the concrete as hard as he could “—fucking. Nuclear. Missile.” Each word a slam. In the end the head lolled. Drake scrambled back out from under the truck, and met Alicia sprinting on.
“No time for a nap, Drakey. This is some serious shit.”
The Yorkshireman snatched up his machine pistol and tried to shake the ringing sound from his ears. Alicia’s voice helped.
“Mai? You okay?”
“No! Pinned down.”
A roar came from the engine of the flatbed.
“Run faster,” Drake said. “A few more seconds and these live nukes are outta here!”
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Drake poured on the speed. These days it was uncommon that he see straight, so today was business as usual. The door to the cab came up ahead, over head-height. Drake reached up, grabbed the handle and pulled. Alicia aimed her Glock.
A hand grenade bounced out.
Drake stared in utter disbelief. “Are you fucking kiddi—”
Alicia struck him around the chest, propelling him backward and around the front of the truck. The grenade exploded violently, shrapnel spitting in all directions. Drake rolled with Alicia, the two held together. The truck’s door went spinning and tumbling ahead of the vehicle. When Drake looked up there was only one man sat in the cab, high up, grinning evilly down at him. He goosed the gas pedal.
Drake knew there was no chance in hell that the vehicle could set off fast enough to run them down. He glanced to the side and saw three more guards rushing them. The truck bellowed, its wheels started to grip and propel it forward an inch at a time. The roller doors hadn’t moved, but that wouldn’t stop it.
The comms burst to life.
“They’re driving the trucks out of here! Cabs are bulletproof. And damn hard to reach.” It was Hayden’s voice. “
“No way inside?” Kinimaka asked.
“No. It’s sealed. And I don’t want to use too much force, if you know what I mean.”
And though Drake knew their own truck was now missing a side door, there were still two more to worry about.
“Jump up onto the flatbed,” he said. “Start unfastening those nukes. They’ll be forced to stop.”
“Risky. Friggin’ risky, Drake. What if one of the warheads comes loose?”
Drake ran around the side of the cab, firing at their attackers. “One bloody problem at a time. What are we — whiz kids?”
Alicia shot a pursuer. “More like ‘iffy bastards’ these days I’m afraid.”
Together, they leapt up to the flatbed and came face to face with the nuke.
“This works on two fronts,” Drake now said through the comms. “We can neutralize and detach at the same time.”
Hayden grunted. “Try not to sound so smug about it.”
“Yorkshiremen don’t do smug, love. We do simply awesome with just a dash of humility.”
“Plus a few thousand crap things.” Dahl sounded like he was running. “Yorkshire puddings. Terriers. Beer. Sporting teams. And that accent?”
Drake felt the truck starting to move beneath him. “Where’s the control panel, people?”
A tech answered immediately. “See the warhead is made up of approximately thirty curved panels? It’s the eighth one from the pointy end.”
“My kinda language.”
More shots rang out. Alicia was already concentrating on the pursuit. Mai had just leapt up onto the back of the flatbed. Now, she looked over the backend of the nuke.
“Bad news. The British are here.”
“I think we have the Chinese,” Dahl spoke.
“French,” Kinimaka said. “A new team.”
Drake leapt at the control panel. Do we know where the Sword of Mars is?”
“Yes, Matt. But I can’t exactly say it out loud now, can I?” a voice answered.