CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They brought Lexi and Luis around and then they all sprinted into the crowd, thousands deep, pushing their way slowly toward Kruger and his gang. Rajavi was holding a knife to Balta’s throat and dragging him along the street to the south. The crowd of people walking to the festival was huge, and soon they were well away from the ECHO team.
They followed them along the Avenida Brasil and then left into the district of Orrantia del Mar, keen not to provoke Kruger into harming Balta out of panic. As Saqqal and Kruger drew further away to the south along the Circuito de Playas, Hawke knew time was running out.
They speeded up the chase and tried to stay out of sight as they pursued the enemy, but now they were moving further into the actual festival and approaching the main stage. Hawke knew as soon as they had the information about the Mandala from Balta, the professor would be a dead man.
“Where are they?” Lexi called out.
“I’m losing them!” said Scarlet.
Hawke scanned the crowd. “I think they’re breaking up.”
Lea flicked her head around to check the crowd only to see Saqqal a few yards to Kruger’s left and getting away fast. He had less difficulty smashing partygoers out of his way than she did.
Foo Fighters were now on the stage, blasting their songs out across the heads of the festival goers who were jumping up and down to the beat and screaming along to the lyrics. Ahead of Lea the colossal speakers were blaring out a bass line she didn’t recognize and one of the guitarists had his foot up on the stage-left monitor while he moshed his head up and down. The crowd were going nuts and were now jumping up and down like they were on pogo sticks.
In the chaos, she quickly became separated from Hawke and the others, and then she lost sight of the enemy. “I can’t see them, Joe!” she called out.
“Leave it with me,” he said.
Hawke craned his neck around for a look and then it came to him. He turned and began to climb over the security fence that divided the crowd from the stage but a second later two large men with shaved heads approached him, palms out. They were wearing bomber jackets and earpieces and he instantly clocked they were security.
They spoke to him rapidly in Spanish, and he replied in their language, but they weren’t having any of it. They were the classic unmovable object, but unfortunately for them Joe Hawke was the irresistible force. He pulled back his arms and simultaneously sucker punched each of the men in the center of his face, sending them both staggering back toward the stage with broken, bloody noses.
He didn’t hang about for a second round, and seized the moment he had won by leaping over the fence and using a parkour jump to launch onto the stage, landing downstage center. The bass player took a few steps back and stared at him but the band carried on as more security rushed the stage to drag him off.
He stared out over the crowd with only seconds to spare. He saw Lea and his friends straight ahead and then he saw Kruger’s hat and behind him Saqqal and the professor flanked by the rebels. They were up near the stage and almost free of the crowd.
“They’re over there!” he called out, but she couldn’t hear him. He grabbed hold of one of the backing vocals mics and told her once again. She heard him, but so did ten thousand other people, including Kruger, and he responded by firing a warning shot into the air.
The atmosphere turned on a dime. People reacted fast, ducking their heads and screaming as they tried to move away from where they thought they’d heard the gunshot. The band stopped playing and suddenly there was security crawling everywhere like ants.
Hawke thought hanging around for the security was a bad idea so he ran along the stage and launched himself into the air. He stage-dived into the heaving throng of people and found himself crowd-surfing for a few moments until he finally clambered away from their grip and joined up with Lea.
“They’re trying to head backstage,” he said.
When they turned the corner and moved into the backstage area it was just in time to see Saqqal dragging a roadie out of a Wrangler while Rajavi darted around to the passenger’s door. A luxury travel trailer was attached to the back of the Wrangler by the tow hook and it juddered when Saqqal fired up the Jeep and took off through the backstage area.
“I’m on it!” Lea said.
“And me,” Ryan said. “I want that bastard.”
Hawke watched Lea and Ryan sprinting after the stolen Wrangler while he scanned the area for the others. “Where’s Kruger?” he said.
“Be fucked if I know,” said Scarlet.
“Over there!” Reaper said.
He pointed to the cliffs where Kruger and Corzo were jogging along one of the coast paths. “Looks like they’re heading toward the pier and they’ve still got Balta!”
“But no sign of Jawad,” Reaper said. “This worries me.”
While the Jeep was still in the backstage area its speed was heavily restricted by all the other trailers and tents and Lea had time to grab hold of the door on the side of the luxury travel trailer and clamber inside. She held out her hand and helped Ryan and by the time the Wrangler was leaving the area and hitting the road they were both inside.
“So what now?” Ryan asked.
“How the hell should I know?” Lea said. “This was a do now, think later scenario.”
“Well, later is now,” Ryan said, looking out the window. “He’s picking up speed.”
“Do you think he saw us get in the trailer?”
At that point the trailer began swinging wildly from one side of the road to the other and they looked through the front window to see Rajavi leaning out the Wrangler’s rear window.
The trailer skidded across the lane and smashed into a supporting wall on the other side of the road, crunching the side of the trailer. Lea tried the door. “Damn thing’s jammed shut now!”
Ryan watched Rajavi on the back of the Wrangler. “What the hell is he doing?”
Lea frowned as Rajavi began unscrewing the cap of the auxiliary gas tank. “I’m not liking this latest development.”
They were now racing down a cliff road with the South Pacific Ocean on their left-hand side. “We must be doing at least sixty miles per hour now,” Ryan said with a sigh. “Which means we’re going wherever they’re going.”
“Er, Ry…”
“What?”
“I don’t think they have that in mind.”
Ryan turned to see Rajavi heaving the gas tank out of its holder and pouring the contents into a Coke bottle. Then he ripped part of his shirt off and stuffed it inside the bottle before lighting the end of the cloth and throwing it at the trailer.
Lea screamed. “Shit! A Molotov cocktail!”
They ran to the back of the trailer as the bottle smashed on the front window and burst into flames.
Trapped inside the blazing luxury travel trailer, Lea searched for something to put through the window, but all the heavy stuff like chairs and tables were fixed into place so she went to the kitchen area and opened one of the drawers, snatching out a frying pan. The sound of the Foo Fighters was still loud in the air and the crowd was singing along as loud as they could as she shielded her eyes and swung the pan at the small window.
It bounced back hard and heavy, the failed attempt reverberating harshly up her arm. The window was thick Perspex and no travel-size frying pan was going to break it.
The trailer bounced around violently now, and Lea cupped her hands on the window to see what was going on. They were skidding dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and the flames were spreading all over the trailer.
“Bugger it sideways!” she said, flinging the pan across the trailer and putting her hands on her hips. She had to think about this.