“Front end’s clear,” Smyth’s short, sharp snap whipped between Drake’s ears. He could also hear Lauren talking in the background.
“Look up to the sky deck,” Hayden told him. “See anything?”
“If that’s the bit at the top then no. No movement.”
A scream rang out. Drake clicked the comms but Smyth’s voice beat him to it. “That definitely came from up there. Hurry!”
Drake pounded at the stairs, almost clipping Alicia’s heels. Yorgi said, “I can make it up outside quicker. Half a minute.”
Drake cursed. “No. You have no weapon. You’re not—”
“I’ll live.”
Shit. Despite Yorgi’s assurances Drake was more than skeptical. Even discounting Dudley’s obvious irrationalities there were also the aerosols to worry about. The entire team ran hard. The chance of an ambush was slim, all of Dudley’s paid colleagues having perished. The sky deck soon appeared above, accessed through another sliding door. Dahl ducked as soon as the door came into view, assessing the scene.
“Dudley and the Pythians,” he said. “With several passengers. Where does he expect to go?”
Drake stayed low. “Man’s a loon but he ain’t dumb. Le Brun and Bell have endless contacts.”
“What are you saying?” Crouch asked.
“Just… be ready for anything.”
Through the door they could see Dudley manhandling a woman in a bikini whilst Bell tried not to watch. Le Brun held a gun which almost pointed toward three other passengers, two men and a woman, its barrel wavering between their heads and a view of the sea. Thankfully, when nerves made her accidentally pull the trigger, the bullet flew wide.
“We have to end this. Now.” Hayden made a move toward the door, but Dahl held her back.
“Wait.”
Drake agreed but didn’t say so. Instead, he whispered, “We need a fix on the aerosols first. Nothing’s more important.”
All hell let loose. Yorgi appeared on the deck to the side, jumping from the bulkhead above. Le Brun whirled, gun barking. One of her hostages chose that moment to be a hero, leaping at her. Healey and Smyth and Lauren appeared over to the left, heads rising above a balcony as if they’d climbed the set of spiral-shaped stairs that clung to the outside.
“Damn it, Healey,” Crouch hissed. “Stay put.”
He was too late. Le Brun’s bullet shattered the door in front of Drake, showering them all with glass. Yorgi leaped at her throat just as the hero-hostage struck her from the other side. Dudley, face set as hard as a tombstone, lifted the woman he’d been accosting high above his shoulders as if she were the weights in a lifting contest.
“Shit, shoot that bastard!” Kinimaka growled.
Dudley stepped toward the edge of the ship, still hefting the woman high. Drake spotted the small rucksack on his back.
Head shot.
But before he could even begin to lift his gun Lauren, breaking free of Smyth, sprinted for the deadly Irishman. Drake saw in an instant what was happening. Lauren saw only a woman in trouble, her reactions were instinctive.
From out of the clouds on the horizon came two midnight-black birds.
Drake ran past Dahl, passing the scuffle where Le Brun fought to maintain a hold on her gun, knowing Dudley would immediately catch sight of him and move his attention away from Lauren. The Irishman reacted in a moment, throwing the unlucky woman straight at Drake and bowling him over, then springing across the deck. His moment of opportunity was rapidly closing as Healey and Smyth converged from one side and Dahl, Hayden and Kinimaka from the other. Drake untangled himself from the woman, forehead pounding where she had struck. He saw Mai join from the right and Alicia stood by him.
Dudley would have to be a magician to get outta this…
Then the Irishman grabbed at Lauren, took a blow to the throat and staggered. Buoyed by her victory, Lauren struck again.
“Not twice, wee minx.”
Dudley caught her wrist and twisted, causing her to cry out. Smyth yelled protectively at the top of his own voice, threatening barbarity, but Dudley only cackled. In a deft move he shrugged off the backpack and held it in his free hand, spreading the drawstring mouth. By now the black birds had come close enough to see that they were military issue, unmarked and old, probably bought from one of hundreds of black-market arms bazaars held monthly around the world. Machine guns hung inside their open doors.
Dudley lifted the backpack in signal. Drake saw the choppers swoop toward their target. Time to make a fast decision. The Greek military choppers had all disgorged their occupants and returned to the mainland. If Dudley and the Pythians escaped this way they would have an almost unassailable head start.
He moved forward. “Let her go. You have more than a dozen guns aimed at you.”
Dudley sneered. “Ah, the best of the best, no? Your crew ain’t gonna give me any trouble, fella. Do yer know why?”
Drake did.
Dudley allowed the backpack to fall, leaving three small black boxes clutched in his left hand. “Y’see this wee silver button here? I press that an’…”
“Fucking madman!” Lauren struggled in his grip.
“Quit it, pretty. Afore I stuff Pandora’s sweet wee Box down yer throat.”
Alicia stepped up, pushing Drake aside and closing the gap to Dudley. “Hey dude, did you mean to make that sound so dirty? ‘Cause, man, I’m all for some girl-on-girl action.”
Dudley blinked, surprised. It was the instant they all needed. A dozen fingers stroked triggers, aims were double checked, and then a shot rang out too quickly, too soon, and Miranda Le Brun jumped to her feet, wailing.
Right in front of Dudley, the Pythian woman clutched her chest as blood bubbled around her fingers. She ducked and weaved, screaming, dying, still holding the gun that had been turned on her and firing off rounds erratically into the air. A bullet struck Nicholas Bell, but only snagged his jacket and sent him spinning to the ground. Another blasted into the arm of the hostage-hero, sending Yorgi sprawling on top of him.
Le Brun’s reign came to an abrupt end as Dahl calmly executed a head shot.
By then the choppers were hovering overhead and machine guns were trained on the sky deck, masked men poised behind them.
Dudley grinned at his audience. “What is it they say? ‘Til feckin next time? Git yer skinny arse over here, Bell.”
Drake didn’t back down. “We can still take you out, mate.”
“Aye, and die doin’ it. But I guess that don’t matter to heroes like yerselves, eh? Well, how about this?”
Dudley pushed the silver button on one of the boxes, dispensing the aerosol inside and releasing the weaponized gas — straight into Lauren’s face.
The SPEAR team, to a man, cried out. Machine gunfire smashed into the deck from above as Lauren fell. Dudley sprinted hard and leaped over the side of the ship toward a swinging harness, two boxes still in one hand, and swaying back to offer a powerful arm to Bell’s outstretched hands.
“Look at it this way,” he yelled. “Now yer feckers have a test subject!”
Drake found cover as the deck disintegrated under fire.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Mayhem and chaos ruled in Greece. Dudley proved his madness by refusing to flee and forcing his saviors to pepper the cruise ship with round after round. His screeches of laughter were audible even above the clamor. Drake crawled hand over fist to grab Lauren and pull her out of the line of fire. Dahl took hold of the screaming bikini-wearing girl and Alicia took hold of Yorgi’s ankle and hauled him off the wounded hero.
“Get inside, Yogi.”
She scooped up the injured man and carried him inside as bullets chewed the deck around her ankles. Not wanting to appear too hasty she used her free hand to return fire at both black choppers. Drake grabbed her and heaved her to safety.