The in-car phone bleeped. Drake answered, “Ay up.”
Hayden’s voice reminded him of work, taking him away from the moment Mai and he were sharing. “Just some info to pass along. Gates came through with the new HQ. It’s opposite the mall on Pennsylvania Avenue.” She coughed. “Could be worse.”
“When do you want us in?”
“It’ll take a few days to get the comms up and running, but most of the infrastructure is already there. It’s an old CIA secret ops hole.”
Mai grunted. “It sounds charming.”
“Today’s Tuesday. Let’s say Thursday. I’ll let you know the address.”
Drake disconnected and looked out the window. “Wonder what’s gonna kick off next? Between Odin, the Blood King, the Shadow Elite and North bloody Korea, I don’t know which is worse.”
“The Blood King,” Mai whispered without pause. “No question.”
“And those latest Russkies weren’t exactly Care Bears,” Drake assured her. “Especially that Zanko. Big, hairy bastard.”
“How is Romero?” Mai asked. “Have you heard from him?”
“Nope. Not a thing. Guess he’s back at Delta. Why, you heard from Smyth?”
Mai smiled. “All the time.”
“Want me to… y’know… take him out?”
“Why? Are you jealous?”
“A little.”
“He’s just flirting. He thinks he loves me. He’ll get over it.”
“He’d better,” Drake said tetchily, but it was all a game. Both Drake and Mai knew how much they owed the Delta soldiers. Drake turned the wheel as the satnav directed them away from the main arteries and through some quieter back streets.
“I think you should call Ben. See how he’s getting along.”
Drake nodded. “I will. Soon as I find the time.”
“Well, don’t stay out of touch too long. He was one of your best friends.”
The words stirred up memories Drake wanted to stay dormant. And lately, any memory of Kennedy Moore sent a barb through his heart. Have I fallen for Mai too soon after Kennedy’s death?
“I’ll do my best.”
Mai changed the subject. “So, are you going for that pork thing again tonight? You really should try the seared Ahi, it—”
A car pulled out in front of Drake. He swerved hard to avoid the collision.
“Christ!”
He jammed on the brakes and skidded broadside across the road, the hood of the car narrowly missing a parked minivan. The car in front of them, a black Escalade, had stopped dead.
Mai said, “I don’t like—”
A second Escalade pulled out behind them, swerving across the road, effectively blocking them in.
Drake reached for the glove box, finding only a single Glock. “This thing bulletproof?”
“I doubt it.”
Drake tapped the phone. “Better call out the whole nine yards,” he told the CIA tech who answered. “I think we’re being ambushed.”
Both Escalades erupted with black-clad bodies. Men literally spewed out of every door, holding small devices that looked like tasers in their hands and shouting. Drake’s car was quickly surrounded. All the men wore full-face balaclavas with the eye and nose holes cut out, their body language screaming that they were being held on a very tight leash.
“Stay in the car,” Drake said and revved the engine. “We can—”
A man stepped forward and placed a small black box on their pool car’s hood. Then he held up a remote control and depressed his thumb. Instantly, the engine’s note became a low burble, then died. Drake stared at Mai.
“What the…”
“You go nowhere!” a voice screamed. “Except with us. Get out now!”
Drake showed them his hands, dropping the Glock into his lap. Mai gently clicked open the door. “They have tasers, Matt. We have a Glock.”
“But they just killed our car.”
“Be ready.”
As soon as Mai put a foot out the door, the men ran forward. She moved fast, flinging the door viciously at the first two to arrive and smashing them aside. The next she kicked in the head and scooped up his fallen taser. More came at her. Mai turned sideways on to meet them.
Drake flung his door open, bringing the Glock around. Men ran at him from all sides. He turned toward the back of the car, the quicker target, and fired three shots. Three men collapsed, but the rest were on him. Drake took a punch in the face to evade another man’s taser, then broke the second man’s arm, relieving him of his weapon. The first man tried another punch, but this time his fist met hard taser. There was a sudden crackle and the flash of a lightning bolt. Thousands of volts surged through the man, making him scream and dance before finally slumping at Drake’s feet.
More men leaned in. Drake fired his gun again. He ripped at one of the balaclavas, seeing a glimpse of a rough, pock-marked face and colorful neck tattoos. He could hear them all grunting curses in a guttural tongue. One of the fists that struck at him and missed had painful-looking self-inked tattoos inscribed on the knuckles.
Russian letters, Drake knew, even if he couldn’t turn them into English. He threw a man against the side of the car, smashed another across the bridge of the nose with his now empty gun, used the taser again and then flung it aside when he realized it was out of charge. He stayed behind the car door, limiting his enemies’ angle of attack.
If they survived for a few more minutes, the CIA would have men here.
A gap opened up as his opponents fell over each other. Drake leapfrogged them and raced for the back of the car. There would be more weapons in the trunk. But before he could even lay a hand on the metal, they accosted him again, facing up to him and striking with fists and legs. Drake blocked and backed away. There was a clear escape route past their enemies’ rearmost Escalade, but he couldn’t leave without Mai.
He chanced a glance around her side of the vehicle. Mai danced and leapt amidst a heap of the fallen. With every blow she broke bones, ruptured organs and crushed windpipes. She held a taser in each hand. Drake saw the assembled Russians gather and launch a six man attack at her, but even then she killed four with lightning quick reflexes and leapt back, making space between herself and the remaining two.
“Mai!”
His shout caught her attention. He indicated the escape route, still blocking and fending off his attackers. He was being driven toward the sidewalk where he’d have to slip between parked cars, then there would be a high fence at his back. He could see occupants of the nearby houses looking out of their windows and leaning over balconies, some of them filming the fight on their cell phones. He shouted, “Call 911!” more in an attempt to unnerve the Russians than to get help.
“Hurry!” The leader of the assault party sounded agitated now. “We must leave!”
Drake backed up until he felt Mai behind him. “Ay up.”
“One day,” Mai flipped an assailant, guiding his flight so that he landed hard and struck a colleague on the way down. “You’re going to have to explain that crazy Yorkshire dialect to me.”
They broke for the escape route, leaving their attackers momentarily bewildered. The gap between the rear Escalade and the sidewalk was big enough for them to squeeze through without slowing down. Suddenly free, Drake chanced a look back.
“Why the hell are they using tasers? They could have had us… oh shit!”
Their attackers hadn’t given chase because they had been joined by two men carrying oversize, outlandish guns. The lead Russian screamed at them. Drake saw them kneel, take aim, and fire… then the pain kicked in and the road rose up to strike his face. The last thing he heard was a murderous whisper close to his ear, something about ‘prison food’.