Dudley was happy with that. Soon, they exited out into the public museum and made their way toward the rear gardens and, beyond that, the street parking. Within minutes Dudley found himself walking in the fresh air, down a straight path toward four large pillars and open gates. Almost disappointed, he glanced to left and right.
Ah…
The guard approached them from behind a bench where he’d been chatting with tourists. Dudley purposely held his gaze, flicking a disparaging glance at the man’s paunch. When he reached an audible distance he opened his mouth.
Dudley turned to McLain. “Shut that fat fecker up.”
His comrade liked nothing better than to teach security guards what real fighting and real pain was all about. Back in Ulster and an age ago now it had been one of his favorite hobbies. Back then, they had sought out local security guards just for fun, leaving them broken and bleeding, crawling around the floor of the place they were paid to defend. McLain even used to cut his biceps to mark every target they took down.
Back when the 27-Club was young, just finding their feet…
Now?
McLain jabbed the guard hard, making the man’s eyes bulge and his touristy friends scream. When the guard’s hands flew to his throat, McLain used his groin as a punching bag, placing an arm across his upper half and bending him over. When the guard slithered to the floor, incapacitated, McLain lifted a boot over his throat.
“Say goodbye, fat man.”
“No!” Walcott’s voice was unnecessarily loud. “Don’t kill him. He’s done nothing to you. Nothing!”
Dudley grinned. “Aw, come on. McLain here hasn’t killed nothing for days.”
“Please.”
McLain smiled into Walcott’s eyes as he brought his boot hard down on the security guard’s throat.
Dudley shrugged. “I guess it wasn’t the poor bastard’s day.”
“Bastard! That wasn’t necessary. We’re free!”
Dudley eyed the scrambling tourists. “Don’t be too sure. Letting someone live is always a mistake.”
“Do not hurt them. Do not! I will raise the alarm. I will—”
Dudley cuffed him. “Ah, at last, you’ve found a set of bollocks. Let’s call yer family and see how long that lasts.”
Walcott hung his head as Dudley directed them back to their parked car. Without rushing, his comrades and he deposited their backpacks into the enormous trunk. Then, carefully, they slid into the traffic.
“On second thoughts,” Dudley said. “Maybe yer shouldn’t have killed him. Now they’ll be trying even harder to find us.”
Byram shrugged, massaging his heavy bicep.
Dudley smirked. “Best get a move on, old man. Us lads have another vault to visit.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Drake always got a feeling in his gut when things were about to kick-off big time; a kind of pre-emptive adrenalin burst that, if heavily diluted, one might feel when tipping over the top of the lift-hill of the world’s tallest rollercoaster or sitting behind the wheel of the world’s fastest and most dangerous dragster.
When Karin took the call and then turned that face upon them, the feeling hit him. “What the hell’s wrong?”
Karin stared. “Unbelievable. About an hour ago there was a murder and unknown theft committed at the Smithsonian and they believe Dudley may be involved.”
Drake couldn’t make it compute. “What? Our Dudley? The mad Irish bastard who’s in jail?”
“The mad Irish bastard who escaped jail, killed his drivers and guards in the process with the help of some old friends, and may now be back working for the Pythians.”
Drake gripped the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “He escaped? And nobody thought to let us know?”
“We just brought him to justice,” Hayden put in. “After that, he’s all theirs. An escaped prisoner doesn’t come under our purview and might not be brought to our attention at all.”
Karin pursed her lips. “We’re that agency that’s so secret nobody knows to read us in.”
Dahl disagreed. “We’re not that bloody secret anymore. I think it’s more admin based, no insult intended. We need some kind of a flagging system.”
Drake shook it all off. “Just tell us what happened, Karin.”
“The Smithsonian isn’t exactly sure. Their secretary, the big boss, may have escorted three men into the vault earlier today. Units are en route to his house now. Using facial recognition the cops have identified one of the three men as Callan Dudley.”
Drake sat down. Here they were awaiting word of Mai and something potentially bigger had dropped into their laps. If the Pythians were up to their not-so-old tricks…
“Make sure you reinforce and remind all the relevant authorities of Dudley’s nastier connections,” Hayden said. “I didn’t expect the Pythians to bounce back so quickly after we killed three of their members. I guess I underestimated them. Or maybe it’s something else. Now, let’s start looking into Dudley’s so-called friends and this Smithsonian heist.” Her eyes stopped as they passed Drake’s.
“I’m sorry we have to pull away from Mai at this time.”
The Yorkshireman shrugged. “Aye, me too. But it’ll help take my mind off what I’m going to do to her abductors.”
Hayden nodded. Dahl sighed and rolled his shoulders, a man desperate to help out his friend but incapable of doing so.
“Need a way to ease some of that tension?” Alicia addressed the Swede. “We could always—”
Drake’s phone rang, cutting her off. It was Hibiki. “Yes?”
Alicia finished lamely, “Hit the gym.”
Hibiki’s voice filled Drake’s world. “I’m with an… informant now.” The cop was panting. “Hold on, I’m just washing my hands…”
Dahl raised an eyebrow.
“Took an awful lot to learn this, my friend, but Mai is now the focus of the whole Yakuza organization. And they are the biggest criminal organization in the world.”
Drake knew his face had gone white, emotions bubbling over, but he didn’t care. “What can we do? Do you know their intentions?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The Yakuza, they rarely forgive. It’s as much a trait of theirs as the rule ‘once you’re in you never get out’. It’s hard to pin any Yakuza operation down not only because they’re so connected and insulated but because they’re into so many different criminal activities. It’s a testament to their viciousness and cleverness that although they’re universally known, they still haven’t made many inroads into America or even Tokyo. I say this only to prepare you for what we have to do.”
Drake felt Dahl’s hand on his shoulder. “Which is?”
“Mai is being taken to Kobe, where they have their headquarters, probably by freighter. I’m not sure if you have identified the blood in the hotel room yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, if it is Mai’s don’t worry. The bullet will have been to make her compliant, to help the snatch squad take her down. They will fix her up.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because they plan to put her up on a vile pedestal for some kind of showcase trial. Before the entire Yakuza organization. And then they plan to kill her.”
Drake felt a headache coming on. “A trial? Where?”