But Hawke’s optimism was undeterred. “Yes — unless Kruger got to him after the explosion. Maybe he’s holding him hostage with a view to using his life as leverage against us.”
Lea furrowed her brow. “You really cared about him, didn’t you?”
Hawke clenched his jaw and was silent for a moment. “He was under my command — a civilian that I let go into a dangerous military environment with a hostile enemy. I have a responsibility to make sure he’s all right. It’s every commander’s duty. Now there’s a chance, at least and…”
“He’s dead, Joe. You have to accept that. Maria’s gone too, and for all we know Rich isn’t going to make it. Remember what you told me? We owe them and we repay that debt by not stopping, by keeping on and taking out bastards like Kruger. With Rich in a coma it’s up to us to lead ECHO now — it’s up to you.”
“Me? You’re the 2IC.”
Santos stared up at them with a bemused face.
“I’m Second In Command in name only, Joe, and we both know it. Ever since you came on board it’s always been you leading the team when we’re in the field.”
He sighed as he listened to her words. The truth was he felt used-up, especially after the loss of so many team members during the Seastead battle. Their decimated team was no longer a place of camaraderie and banter, but a hollowed-out crew of grieving friends. They had come so far together, only to lose so much at what they had thought was the final hurdle, but was in reality just the beginning of a terrible new nightmare.
Destroying the Oracle and his mad cult of immortals would have been a tall order before their team was annihilated, but now with only a handful of them left they stood no chance. They would be lucky if they could stop a madman like Kruger from pillaging the Lost Treasure of the Incas, never mind the sort of force the mysterious Oracle could muster to guard his desperate secret.
“I don’t know any more…”
“What happened to never give in and never give up?” she asked, rubbing his arm.
“It gave in and gave up.”
“Stop talking shite, ya skanger. What is it you always say — where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“I’ve never said that.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get out of it! It was one of the first things you ever said to me back on that night when we chasing that little toerag over the rooftops of Geneva. Remember?”
“Of course I remember, you silly goose.”
“Silly what now?”
“I said, let’s get our arses into gear and get after that bastard Kruger.”
“That’s more like the Josiah Hawke I know and love.”
“Don’t push it, Donovan.”
She smiled and was pleased to see he was perking up again. “So what now?”
“Well, not only do we know what they’ve got, but now we also know who’s behind it — Dirk Kruger. In my book that gives us plenty more to go on than we usually have, so let’s get cooking.”
She kissed him on the cheek. Hawke was back again.
Santos cleared his throat and gave them both the evil eye. “If it’s fine with you two, I have an investigation to lead. Who did you say was wearing the skull mask?”
“His name’s Dirk Kruger,” Hawke said.
“And what can you tell me about him?”
“He’d rather you caught him than I did.”
They walked away from the museum and met up with Scarlet, Lexi and Reaper who were all sitting in the terrace of a café drinking coffees. Hawke was surprised to see Luis Montoya had joined them and was laughing like a distressed donkey at something Reaper had said.
“So what did Lieutenant Columbo have to say?” Scarlet asked.
“It’s not what he said,” Lea said. “It’s what he showed us. It shocked the shit out of both of us.”
“Dirty old bastard,” Scarlet said. “I’m sure there’s a way to complain about that sort of thing.”
Hawke stared at her. “Really?”
“Sorry. I just cannot stop myself.”
“Said the vicar to the actress,” Lea said.
“Not you too,” Scarlet said.
“It was Kruger,” Hawke said flatly.
Three shocked faces stared back at him.
“That is shocking,” Scarlet said. “Probably even more so than if old Santos really had exposed himself and showed you his old chap.”
“Does this mean Ryan is alive?” Lexi asked.
“Yes.” Hawke said.
“No, not necessarily,” Lea said. “Let’s not get excited. There are a dozen reasons why Kruger could have survived the explosion and Ryan didn’t.”
“No… I know that was him in the back of the Hyundai.”
“Kruger…” Reaper said through gritted teeth. “But I watched him die!”
“Obviously not, Vincent,” Lexi said.
“But what the hell is the little bastard up to with that mask?” Scarlet asked.
“That’s what we need to find out,” Hawke said. “But whatever it is, it’s not going to be good. I think we know enough about him now to know Rich wasn’t kidding when he said he was the luckiest bastard he’d ever met.”
“And the most unpredictable,” Lexi added.
“Who the hell is Kruger?” asked Luis.
Scarlet finished her coffee, lit a cigarette and lowered her sunglasses. “Never you mind.”
“He’s an old enemy of ours,” Hawke said, glancing at Scarlet. “And I think we might need your help in tracking him down.”
“My help?” Luis said, smiling proudly.
“And the assistance of one Alex Reeve, currently resident in Washington DC.”
“Alex?”
He nodded. “Now we know that sack of shit is in Colombia, we can start tracking him but we can’t do that without Alex’s help.”
“Is she up to it?” Lexi asked.
“Of course she’s up to it,” Scarlet said. “She only got a nine mil in the shoulder. She must be bored off her arse.”
“Yes, quite,” Hawke said, looking at all of his friends and seeing the first flicker of hope since the Seastead. “Let’s get Ryan back.”
CHAPTER SIX
The four-hundred mile flight to Bogotá crossed almost due-south over the top half the country and Hawke peered down with a distinct lack of interest at the vast agricultural lands beneath their jet — cotton, yams, cassava. Since the Seastead battle he had found it hard to raise an interest in anything and he doubted Colombian banana plantations would bring him back to the surface, but now he had a new hope, and that drove him onwards like jet fuel.
Not only was he now certain Ryan was alive, but Alex Reeve had worked her magic and found out that Dirk Kruger had taken a flight from Cartagena to Bogotá, the country’s capital city. He had flown alone. The two goons in the raid were Cartagena locals paid for the robbery and no more. When he landed he met with two other men in an obscure hotel. Alex hacked the hotel’s CCTV and had images.
Now, her voice was faint and crackly, but he could hear her clear enough as he stared at the pictures of Kruger and the two men. They were sitting in the hotel bar sharing drinks in tall glasses. “So who are these toerags?” he asked.
“The guy in the black shirt you already know as Dirk Kruger, I believe.”
“You can say that again… and the others?”
“The dude in the beard is Ziad Saqqal, a former military commander with the Syrian Army who defected to the rebels a few months ago.”
“This is a bad start, Alex. Please make the next few words relaxing and peaceful.”
“Sorry, no can do. The other guy with the glasses is Dr Bashir Jawad.”
“Please tell me he’s the Syrian national backgammon champion or something like that.”
“More disappointment coming your way, Josiah. Jawad may or may not play backgammon, but his day job is at the Department of Bacteriology and Parasitology at the American University of Beirut in Lebanon. He’s a leading bacteriologist with a lot of respect in the academic community.”