“Good. Because we’re putting this baby down right in the middle of the highway.”
Drake glanced around the interior. “Why would they lead us right to their lair?”
Trent frowned. “Could be a dozen reasons. Megalomaniac disorder mostly. Their leader believes he can’t be caught. That fits our profile, considering how open and willing to take responsibility these Pythians have been so far. They’ve practically invited us to take part.”
“Some say this is only their opening salvo,” Mai said.
“Judging by their behavior so far,” Trent said, “I guarantee you their leader wants to meet at least one of us. My guess is that is what this is all about.”
Drake narrowed his eyes, finding the whole scenario hard to believe. Yes they had come up against some evil, crazy masterminds in the past, but someone like this?
“It’s their escape plan I’m worried about,” Trent said.
Alicia cocked her weapon. “They’re not going to get the chance.”
Trent looked unconvinced.
At that moment a red Lexus and a light-green Alfa Romeo sped alongside the Hummer. Trent leaned forward to check out the occupants of the Lexus. “Everything okay?”
Collins replied immediately. “Nothing broken.”
“Looks like you got hit by a Gatling gun.”
“They showed us theirs, we showed them ours. Ours was bigger and harder.”
“Y’see,” Alicia nudged Drake, “size does matter.”
“Oh, balls. Is this another Beauregard thing?”
At that moment a blue and white chopper bounced down lightly in the road before them. All three cars came to a sudden halt. Military helicopters were visible on the horizon, approaching the scene, and more Humvees and other vehicles raced up behind. Drake climbed out and stretched, taking stock of their surroundings. The teams came together again, congratulating each other on still being alive. A tall, broad, haphazard array of green trees and hedges stood all around the eastern side of River Road; dwellings could barely be seen through the dense foliage; the Niagara River flowed to the west. They were stood staring at a corner plot.
Crouch tapped at a tablet as he came toward them. Caitlyn took it off him so he could prepare weapons. “Okay,” she said. “The helicopter came down there.” She pointed toward the plot. “Twenty eight thousand square feet of real estate, last valued at eight million dollars. Currently owned by Imogen Enterprises, whoever they are. Not enough time to dig, I’m afraid. A one-of-a-kind waterfront estate mansion. There’s lake access, three pools, a basement, a dock on the Niagara, a theater, wine cellar, grotto, a goddamn ranch. Everything your well-prepared self-important dictator needs to make good his escape. Even access to a golf course beyond the ranch. It lists farmland separately too. Jesus.”
“What’s that?” Drake pointed at a tall, brick-built structure. Its walls appeared to have been painted as much to camouflage its presence as anything.
“Some kind of viewing tower?” Dahl commented.
Hayden looked back. “Maybe it offers a view of the falls?”
Alicia cleared her throat. “Are we waiting for something? ‘Cause Santa’s already been.”
Drake fell in beside her. “Do you even remember Christmas? In Hawaii? With Mano?”
“Yeah. And you pining after the Little Sprite. How’s that working out for ya?”
Drake threw a glimpse toward the Japanese woman. “Today? Not so bad. Tomorrow? Who the hell knows?”
“What’s her problem? Her latest problem?”
“A long story. We don’t have time.”
Alicia paused as the entire company came up alongside her, readying for one last tremendous assault against the Pythians.
She looked along the line, both ways. “I have time for you, Drake, as much as I have time for everyone who now stands alongside me. If you’re interested.”
Crouch and Hayden led the way. Drake didn’t have time to assess Alicia’s underlying meaning — if indeed there was one — before the company came under heavy fire. The mercenaries’ last chopper sat beyond the high fence and gates, in the house’s grounds, and around it were arrayed a dozen men. Drake ducked behind the wall, watching as Dahl happily relieved a Canadian trooper of his rocket launcher.
“I’ll just borrow that for a tick if you don’t mind.”
The Swede hefted the weapon, grinned toward Drake, and then walked to the lofty wrought iron gate, pointing the barrel between the uprights. If the chopper hadn’t been there or the mercs had chosen a different place to stand he wouldn’t have had a shot. As it was, the perfect target presented itself.
Dahl fired. The grenade blazed a trail through the air, impacting against the side of the still-ticking, bullet-riddled chopper and bursting into flame. Dahl stepped back and allowed Trent and Radford to deal with the gate. Moments passed and then the wrought iron latticework was falling inwards, bouncing off the concrete. As one the company raced into the grounds, followed by Canadian troops. Bodies lay sprawled around the chopper, most unmoving. Drake headed straight for the picture window, higher and wider than any set of French doors he’d ever seen, and shot over two hundred small panes out, creating a gap wide enough for them to enter. Inside, the house was vast, high-ceilinged with wooden timbers and archways.
He picked his way through the debris, Dahl and Alicia at his side with Mai trailing them, and crossed a polished wooden floor. Through the door lay the entry hallway, as wide as any sitting room Drake had ever seen, and poised above it a railed balcony that led to the second floor. Jam-packed with men.
“Back!”
He ducked back into the room just as a grenade bounced down from above, detonating almost instantly. Shrapnel stabbed the walls. Dahl was already up and inspecting the partition near the door frame.
“Aim there,” the Swede told the accomplished soldier with the rocket launcher, pointing just below the vee of the horizontal and vertical wall above the door. “It’s plasterboard. Drywall. Gypsum, you know?”
“I’m Canadian,” the soldier said. “Not French.”
“Sorry,” Drake told the soldier. “We’re trying to trade him for a girl.”
“Sounds like a good deal.”
Dahl coughed. Collins leaned over. “I hear on the grapevine that that girl was me?”
Drake blinked. “Um, really? Who told you that?”
“Whatever you say,” Collins told him. “I will find out. I know everything.”
The soldier fired, sending his rocket blindly through the wall in the direction of the upper balcony. A hole blasted in its wake, giving the accumulated company a view of the mercenaries hit and killed by the blast. Part of the balcony disintegrated but the staircase remained intact. Drake was up and running instantly, heading toward the second floor, confident that Hayden would organize a search of the ground and the basement. Two bursts from his rifle and the coast was clear.
Dahl pounded at his heels, holding the rocket launcher.
“You took that from that poor soldier?”
“Last rocket.” The Swede patted the pear-shaped grenade. “Thought I’d make it count.”
Alicia was close by. “I hope you guys aren’t thinking of replacing me with that Agent Collins. Chick’s a big-time ballbuster if ever I’ve seen one!”
Mai snorted with laughter, drawing a grin from Drake. All three of them stared at Alicia and shook their heads as they ran.
“What?”
Drake took stock before storming the second floor. Corridors stretched both ways, dissected by still more. In addition to the four of them, following fast, were Trent, Collins, Crouch, Caitlyn and Smyth. Hayden must have literally put a hand out like a nightclub bouncer to chop the team in half.