The distraction was the opening Sean had been waiting for. He took two quick steps and launched himself across the remaining six feet. His shoulder planted into Mamoud’s right arm. It jolted the weapon from his hand. The gun clacked on the floor just before the two bodies crashed into the hard stone a few feet away. Mamoud shrieked from the sudden impact and subsequent sharp pain in his shoulder. Sean’s momentum sent him rolling off his target, but he was quick to get back on his feet and resume the assault. He swung his boot at Mamoud’s face. The Arab winced but found enough strength to raise both hands to block the strike. He shifted his weight and grabbed Sean’s foot and then twisted it hard, using Sean’s inertia against him. With his boot jerked at an awkward angle, Sean’s body spun in midair, doing a complete three-sixty before he fell to the ground with a thud. His hands and elbows struck the surface first.
Adriana’s reaction to the strangers’ ambush was instantaneous. She’d managed to keep the tomahawk out of sight during their capture. She grabbed it from its belt holster and rushed the nearest gunman while he was preoccupied with the shooters. His back was exposed, a fact she took immediate advantage of. Adriana felt the perfectly balanced weight of the tomahawk in her hand as she darted forward and swung the deadly weapon’s sharp edge at the villain’s back. The blade sank deep into his tissue and stuck into the shoulder blade. He yelped in agony and slouched forward. She wasn’t done yet. Her hands worked quickly, yanking the tomahawk out of the bloody target. She whipped it up, spun the man around, and struck hard with the spike, driving the black steel straight into the man’s heart. His eyes flared in shock before the body fell limp to the floor in a heap. Adriana bent down on one knee, worked her weapon free, and scooped the fallen gunman’s pistol from his fingers just as Tommy charged by, a whoosh of air following him.
The man he was targeting had sensed danger when his partner screamed a few moments before. He’d already turned around, but his reaction was too slow. Tommy leaped at him with a flying sidekick, his boot heel striking the man in the chest. The blow sent the gunman crashing into the wall, momentarily stunned. Tommy used the moment to his advantage and threw a haymaker of an uppercut, landing it right under the gunman’s jaw. The target’s head snapped back accompanied by a sickening smacking sound. The unconscious gunman slumped against the wall, his knees buckling under the dead weight.
“Heads up!” Adriana shouted.
The two remaining henchmen on the other side of the room realized the imminent threat and turned their attention to Tommy and Adriana. Tommy was the first target they acquired and drew down on. With no cover, nowhere to run, and no weapon at the ready, Tommy had to think fast. He ducked down, grabbed the unconscious henchman, and spun the body around to use as a human shield.
His move wasn’t a second too soon. The gunmen opened fire, peppering the body with a spray of deadly metal. One bullet ripped through the man’s arm and clipped Tommy’s shoulder, but he held tight until the popping sounds turned to clicks, their magazines empty.
Adriana stole the moment and stepped forward, firing on the two exposed killers and taking one out at the knee and chest. The other one took two rounds in the gut before a bullet pierced his forehead, sending a red splash onto the wall behind him.
Sean pushed himself off the floor, though his elbows throbbed painfully. Mamoud regained his balance and saw Sean regrouping. The Arab’s eyes flashed toward his gun on the floor. Sean caught the glance and knew what the man would do next. The two dove simultaneously for the gun, both hands hitting it and sending it sliding away.
The popping sounds from the gunfight had ceased. Through his peripheral vision, Sean saw that Adriana and Tommy were okay, which meant they’d taken out the rest of Mamoud’s men.
He grappled with his opponent, their hands swatting and swinging at each other as they rolled on the floor, each trying to stretch out for the weapon they believed was their salvation. Sean grabbed Mamoud’s wrists and pulled him close, but the madman gained the advantage and rolled over on top of him. He punched Sean on the cheek, opening a fresh cut on his face. He attempted a second, but Sean forced up a forearm and blocked it. Sean grabbed the other arm and pulled Mamoud close, head butting him in the nose.
The Arab leaned back, but Sean didn’t let go, bashing the man’s nose against his head again and sending a fresh surge of pain through his opponent’s face. Blood oozed from the broken appendage, and tears poured from his eyes.
Adriana watched with her weapon drawn. Mamoud managed to wriggle free and lean back. She had a clear shot and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. “Crap.” She tossed the weapon aside and picked up the tomahawk again.
Mamoud swung his arms wildly, landing a blow against the side of Sean’s head and another on his jaw, followed by some striking him in the ribs and gut, most blocked by the American’s forearms. The brute ferocity of the attack signaled Mamoud’s desperation.
Sean shifted his weight and whipped his legs around, a move that threw his opponent clear and sent him rolling to a sudden stop against the sarcophagus. Sean popped up and assumed a crouching martial arts position, ready to finish the fight. He realized that Mamoud had stopped only a few feet away from one of his pistols. Unarmed, Sean would be an easy target, and there was no way he could beat him to it this time.
“Sean,” Adriana shouted. He glanced left. She tossed the tomahawk in a dramatic arc.
Sean snatched it out of the air and whirled around instantly, flinging the deadly weapon at his crawling target. The blade rolled through the air in a blur and struck Mamoud at the base of his neck. He grunted and collapsed, grasping at the foreign object protruding from his body. He rolled onto his back and clutched the weapon by the handle, debating on whether or not to remove it. Mamoud knew the grim truth. The blade was dripping with blood, but the second he took it out, his life would spew forth and end in seconds.
Sean and the others moved quickly over to where the dying man lay. He looked up at them with enraged disdain. His eyes flashed rage, but he was helpless. A sickly laugh escaped his lips even as his body trembled. “Killing me won’t stop the war from coming. My ships are already on their way.” He coughed. Blood from the broken nose covered his face, and he spat his words. “My drones will rain death on the Western empire, and no one will be able to stop it. You lose, American.”
“I don’t think so, Mamoud. We know about your ships. At this very moment, a coordinated effort among global agencies is making sure your drones are safely grounded.” Sean crossed his arms. His ribs ached, and he winced from the shot he took on the jaw, but he was okay. He stared at the dying man with his usual sly grin. “It’s over, Mamoud. You lose.”
Mamoud’s eyes widened. Tears filled them, and he grimaced. “That is impossible.”
“Actually,” Tommy jumped in, “this is kind of what we do. Foil the plans of evil masterminds and such.”
Mamoud struggled to breathe. Blood was oozing down his neck at a steady pace now. He knew there was only one thing left to do. “May Allah have his vengeance on you.”
He closed his eyes and yanked the tomahawk out of his neck. His eyes shot open again as blood spurted out onto the floor and the side of the sarcophagus, fast at first, but as the seconds went by, it slowed, eventually to a steady trickle. Finally, Mamoud’s head drooped to the side, and his body went limp.