“Jump,” Dahl growled. “Or die.”
The man chose the former, and maybe the latter too depending on his luck. Dahl jumped on the throttle and increased the engine’s revs at the same time as assessing the state of his teammates.
“We all okay?”
Drake rubbed bruises and Alicia flicked away blood. Mai traced the new scar mostly healed on her face, a new chapter to her story, and one she hadn’t yet told Drake. The speedboats again closed together as Ramses’ pilot hit even worse traffic.
“See that?” Drake pointed out the jam ahead. “Like York at bloody rush hour. Nothing’s going nowhere.”
Alicia raised her own gun. “And for once — that’s our gain.”
Akatash was trying to load another rocket, but then came under increased fire. Seeing the crush of vessels ahead, Ramses yelled into a handheld radio.
Almost immediately the hovering chopper banked and zoomed overhead, settling above Ramses’ position. Two rappel lines flickered down, harnesses strapped to ends that brushed the deck.
Dahl glared at Drake and Alicia. “What are you waiting for? Shoot!”
The Yorkshireman fired, but then Akatash ordered his own men to lay down some cover. Bullets impacted dangerously close and Dahl spun the wheel in an evasive maneuver. Then, both Ramses and Akatash secured the harnesses around them and began to be hauled up toward the chopper. The bird itself rose fast as they came up, escaping the river and any danger.
Drake stayed low. “There,” he said. “Go there.”
Dahl wrenched the wheel in the direction of Beauregard and the chopper that had put down earlier. “Your boyfriend,” he said to Alicia, “must work on some kind of telepathic link. Either that or he’s an android, programmed to think laterally.”
“He’s not my boyf—” Alicia began.
Drake interrupted. “You really think he anticipated this?” He gazed up at the escaping Ramses as they approached the muddy bank.
Dahl shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now, because one thing’s for sure — that Prince of Terror is about to meet his match.”
Drake paused as their radio crackled to life. “You all okay?”
Hayden shouted down the line. “We have Price. Do you have Ramses and Webb?”
“Not really, no.”
“Not really? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means it’s a work in progress.” Drake flashed on the fact that when he’d seen Beauregard running along the riverbank the man had most definitely been alone. Maybe he’s stashed Webb in a tree or something? A baboon’s den, hopefully.
“Drake,” Hayden asked. “Where do we stand?”
He explained quickly as they approached the waiting chopper. Dahl, Mai and Alicia ran ahead to help Beauregard mop up the remaining terrorists. “We’re about to set off in pursuit,” he said. “Can you grab some transport?”
Back along the docks, he remembered, two separate choppers out of many remained untouched, as their owners fought and died alongside them or became caught up in the conflagration, searching for another way out.
“Damn right we can,” Hayden snarled. “Get that bird up in the air now, Drake, and chase Ramses down. If he escapes the world will pay. Once we’re airborne I’m going to have to speak to the President.”
Drake clambered aboard the commandeered helicopter. “We’re on our way.”
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
Hayden settled back as Smyth piloted the chopper into the skies. Still not safe, a missile arced up toward them but mercifully fell short. Gunfire clattered off their underside. The chopper was top-heavy, but it was sturdy and new and bore the extra weight without complaint. Through the cockpit window she saw Drake’s chopper rise fast, an enemy combatant clinging to the landing skids until he lost his grip and fell away. Mai leaned out of an open door and picked off would-be snipers on the ground below. Hayden looked over the expanding scene — shocked and saddened by what she saw.
Raging fires littered the forest floor and climbed trees. Branches sizzled as the flames passed from tree to tree. Figures ran to and fro, groups and individuals seeking refuge or trying to escape. Several four-wheel drive trucks sped down various trails, bouncing and flinging around their occupants in their haste. The snake of the river was a battle zone, almost blocked out by plumes of black smoke, cluttered with sailing craft and warring parties. Hayden realized that some of the locals might have helped ignite the fuse down there, but it was a massacre nevertheless. The site of the last bazaar was now a searing ruin, all of its structures destroyed and its tents ablaze.
Hayden turned to her sat-phone, aware innocents might still be hiding down there. Slaves from all walks of life had been bartered for and traded at this travesty, some might have been in servitude for a while but others had almost certainly been recently kidnapped. Local vermin might soon move in so Hayden called the authorities who could aid them first, reeling off coordinates as fast as she could.
Smyth chased two helicopters above the jungle canopy. An excess of blue skies stabbed at her eyes.
Hayden keyed in another number. Three minutes later she was on the line to the President of the United States.
“Sir,” she said with fear, with trepidation, but mostly with regret. “I have some terrible news.”
“Is it Price? Did you get the bastard?”
“We did, sir. He’s here now. But that’s not the bad news.”
“All right. Go on.”
Hayden closed her eyes, trying to tear her mind’s-eye away from the horrific scenario she was about to describe.
“The last Pythian, Julian Marsh, purchased a suitcase nuke at the bazaar. He’s on his way to New York with it, he thinks as a means of blackmail. Ramses has ordered all of his terrorist sleeper cells to find Marsh once the bomb is inside the city — and set it off.”
Coburn didn’t respond for almost a minute. Hayden didn’t question it, she knew why. There was no easy way to digest this information.
“Does he have the capabilities to smuggle the weapon in?”
“We’re talking the Pythians, sir. Look what they have done so far.”
“What’s the timescale?”
“Sir,” Hayden sighed. “It may already be there.”
“Oh, good God.”
“But nothing will happen without Ramses’ say so. And we’re in pursuit right now. We’ll deal with him, sir, and then head straight to New York.”
Coburn sighed loudly. “I’ll make sure we’re prepared at this end. Where are you headed now, Jaye?”
Hayden glanced at the instruments. “On a course for the coast, sir. Probably Peru.”
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
Drake sat beside Beauregard as he piloted the chopper in pursuit of Ramses. Behind them, Hayden had been concentrating solely on starting some kind of mobilization among the US government rather than their quarry. Perfectly understandable since the nuke remained an unknown and they had Ramses in their sights. An endless canopy of green terrain passed beneath, trees as far as the eye could see. Beau informed them that they were flying in a straight line toward the Peruvian coast, but beyond that they had no clear idea where they were headed. The team took the time to relax and reload, though their stores of ammunition were starting to dwindle.
An hour passed, and then Hayden came back on the line, explaining that she’d done all she could to protect New York. They simply had to bag Ramses and then hightail it immediately to America’s east coast to aid in the hunt. She also told them she’d contact the nearest friendly airbase and arrange whatever backup she could to help them deal with Ramses.
Hayden began to sign off, but then stopped. “Oh, and Drake? One day you’ll have to explain Kenzie’s story to me and why she chose to run with me rather than you.”