Without wasting a moment the pilot took the chopper into the air, lifting vertically and then swooping away. Up toward the clouds he climbed and away from the castle, making a show of it. After those on the ground would have watched the chopper heading away, he disappeared behind a peak and then rose further before banking sharply back in the direction of the castle a third of the way up its own mountain.
Dahl was already on his feet. “Chutes,” he said. “Buckle in. Jumping from a chopper is only a little different than jumping from a plane. The pull string is attached to a line, so instead of pulling manually, the line will do it for you. We’re gonna set it to open low, you understand.” He took a breath. “Very low. Do not miss a beat or you will die.”
Kenzie punched his thigh. “Playful bastard, ain’t ya?” She looked around. “Don’t we need oxygen masks, or something?”
“Nope,” Dahl didn’t look over at her. “That’s essentially for television.”
Kinimaka tripped over his straps as he danced around with his parachute, having fought hard to adjust it to maximum girth. Hayden steadied him with a strong hand. Smyth glanced out of the only window.
“Crap, that still looks a long way down.”
“Like taking any chance,” Dahl said. “Once you’ve learned how, it just comes naturally.”
The pilot turned, face creased with worry, and indicated they had risen far enough. Dahl wrenched open the door and let in a frigid, howling wind. With a quick nod he was the first out, pulled downward by gravity and forced even harder by the rotors’ downdraught. Hayden came next and then Kinimaka, Kenzie and Smyth. The chopper waited for a moment, a steady sentinel praying for their safe deliverance.
Hayden plummeted through the air, horizontal with arms spread, and with an urgency in her heart. Air pressure slammed her ears and a buffeting wind tore at her clothing. Below, the castle grew quickly from a speck to a dot and then a blotch. Very soon she was able to make out the crenelated battlements and ruined chopper.
At their backs the vertical cliff face shot by, hard impenetrable rock offering cruel death in response to the slightest slip. Dahl’s chute shot open, material billowing past Hayden and then she felt the hard wrench as her own chute filled upward. A violent deceleration to their descent and then they were falling much more agreeably, guiding themselves onto the top of the oblivious guards.
The inner courtyard rushed up. Hayden took out her guns a moment after Dahl and sighted on half a dozen legionnaires. At the very last second all five descendees opened fire. The next few minutes were a total rout; the victims not comprehending where the bullets were coming from and consequently being caught out in the open. Ramses’ legionnaires sprawled across the castle’s courtyard and battlements, clawing for weapons or just lying still, some groaning, others falling to their deaths, dozens of them.
Hayden increased the velocity of fire as she neared the ground, knowing their greatest advantage was almost at an end, and determined to take as much of it as possible. They landed one after the other, and hit the ground running, each clicking a button to free their chutes the moment they touched down to leave the drop zone clear for the next. Hayden felt only a brief exhilaration before turning her mind to their friends and where they might be.
“Inside.” Dahl started off, then almost tripped over an injured, crawling legionnaire. “Wait.” He reached down and grabbed the man by the ankle, three inches beneath his bullet wound. “Where would Ramses take prisoners?” he snarled.
The soldier grimaced and shook his head. Dahl shook the leg hard. “Tell me!”
Then Smyth stepped in. “Their lives are in danger,” he roared and kicked out at the man’s leg. A scream rang out and some wheezing. Seconds later they had a close approximation of where they needed to go.
Hayden ran ahead, weapons primed and aimed. Three times she squeezed off shots and three men fell, dead. Smyth and Kinimaka also picked guards off. They approached a thick wooden door, wrapped around with studded straps, and kicked it open. Inside, the castle was cold and unwelcoming, the narrow passage constructed of simple rock and unadorned. Hayden concluded it had to be the servants’ quarters and ran ahead. Kenzie appeared at her side.
“Watch the head count.” Hayden nodded at the ever-present katana. “We don’t want to be branded criminals over this.”
“Yes, your President has had to grease enough balls as it is.”
“I wouldn’t quite put it that way but, yes. Yes he has.”
A service elevator took them to the highest floor, where they walked out onto a plush landing. The lights were golden, throwing burnished hues across the entire area and the walls were lined by immense works of art. Hayden led them down a connecting corridor and then they started checking rooms. Legionnaires appeared from three directions, initiating a firefight.
Hayden dived headlong into a room, came to her feet, and found herself facing a beautiful, picturesque window — the whole wall a piece of thick glass. Sofas, divans, eighteenth century desks, wall-fittings and statues filled the room, but Hayden’s attention was drawn to the sofa nearest the window.
She would recognize those two heads anywhere.
Drake and Alicia.
But it was the way they were perched on top of the head rest that terrified her.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
Her involuntary gasp of fear brought the heads around, and Hayden almost cried in relief. It had been an optical illusion, contrived by the sofa’s odd design. As she watched, Akatash lurched over the sofa, landing hard, making Hayden even more confused. Then Beauregard appeared, a black ghost, and the scene made sense. At her back the rest of the team held off the legionnaires so Hayden made a move toward Drake and Alicia.
Beauregard glanced at them. “You took your time, SPEAR team. I infiltrated the kitchen and became tired of waiting for your entrance.”
Hayden crouched down. “You good?” she asked Drake, withdrawing a knife and slicing through his bonds.
“I’ll be better once we catch up to Ramses and neutralize his ass.”
Alicia held her feet up in the air. “I’m fine thanks.”
“You think I would flee?” A deep, baritone voice filled the room. “You think I, being royalty, would scamper away like a frightened dog?”
Drake turned his head. Ramses stood in a nearby doorway, filling it, ducking down to pass through.
The Yorkshireman rose. “There are no dogs in this room,” he said. “Only wolves.”
A moment passed in which there was no sound, no movements save for the erratic spinning of dust motes through tapering shafts of sunlight. And though the room was huge, the presence of those who filled it felt infinitely larger.
And none greater than the Mad Swede. “Excuse me, boys and girls, but is this a fight or a staring contest?”
Pure mayhem erupted. Drake dove at Ramses and the terrorist prince ran straight back at him. They met at full pelt, smashing into each other, neither giving any quarter. Beauregard fell atop Akatash, firing down fist after fist like pneumatic hammers, but Akatash deflected every one whilst exhibiting an utter calm. Hayden and Alicia vaulted the sofa to see the rest of their team engaged in various types of conflict.
Kinimaka and Smyth crouched by a far L-shaped corner, and held off any legionnaires who sought to enter the fray. Mai, with lightning fast reflexes and Kenzie with her katana fought those already in the room, the Japanese woman having slipped over the battlements after the aerial assault. Dahl plucked bodies from the throng and threw them through nearby walls.
Beauregard staggered as Akatash slipped away and then delivered a series of vicious kicks. The two opponents met as one, evenly matched, battling hard. One assault was blocked and then another, a counter assault deflected and quickly punished. Bones broke, blood flowed, but neither man gave an inch. Standing up to one another they weaved and snaked, broke choke holds and fell apart. When one fell he instantly pounced back into the fray, neither prepared to lose face.