Caribbean Gold

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Alicia didn’t move a muscle, but studied the scene from beneath hooded eyes. Jensen had finally emerged from around the side of the devastated cathedral, four men flanking him. All had machine pistols trained on the Gold Team. Jensen staggered a little, still clutching what looked like a bottle of rum in one hand and a Glock in the other. The gun faced the floor whilst the bottle’s rim approached his lips.

“Well, here I am.” He swallowed deeply and wiped his chin. “Come get me.”

Russo stopped breathing, constantly trying to get a grip on his anger. Alicia reviewed the options. It was a short list. They still had their weapons, but without a distraction some of them were going to die.

Crouch walked steadily toward Jensen. “What did you find?”

The Englishman took a moment to turn an ironic eye upon the fallen, still smoking building. “Would you believe — nothing at all?”

“I’d say you were full of shit.”

A shrug. “No matter. We found the usual — a strongbox full of trinkets that are worth nothing at all.”

Crouch sighed. “But of course they’re worth something to someone, that’s the whole point of what Morgan has been doing here.”

“Eh?” Jensen raised the plastic bottle and drank some more.

“Don’t you see? This is his atonement. Only a pirate could express his regret this way and only Morgan did it. These treasures, returned to their rightful owners — are a four-hundred-year-old act of contrition.”

“You’re saying Morgan became a pussy?”

Crouch continued to engage Jensen as his team moved inch by inch to attain better positions. An elbow moved here, a knee there, a better grip on the pistol. A clear way in which to roll. A better line of sight. The minutes passed and the odds lessened.

“You never committed an act you regret?”

Jensen shrugged. “Plenty.”

“And you never tried to atone.” Crouch was now between his team and two of the shooters. Alicia silently berated him for such idiocy.

“You can’t take it back,” Jensen spat. “And they never, ever believe you. You take what you can in this life, Crouch, and you never give back.”

“Spoken like a criminal.”

“Maybe. But this criminal outsmarted you and is about to kick your damn ass.”

“Maybe…” Crouch let it hang.

Tension fell over the cathedral grounds like a thick blanket, cancelling out any other noise. The thin air itself seemed to curdle with a jittery energy. Nobody wanted to die that day, but nobody wanted to back down either.

Alicia moved first, decision made minutes ago and as good as she was going to get. She fell flat alongside Russo, sheltered somewhat by the dead mercenary’s body and pulled her trigger. At the same time two of the four mercs shot at them, bullets slamming hard into the dead flesh, shooting up two separate red mists. Alicia didn’t flinch, but kept firing. Her second bullet found her target’s chest, her third his heart and he was falling away.

Alicia ducked as a line of ammo stitched across their shield. She dug in closer, head below his body and pushed against the grass. Russo returned fire but the rage had left pockets of fiery adrenalin within him that appeared to be affecting his aim.

Healey had body-slammed Caitlyn out of the way; she landed among the fallen cathedral’s stones and struck her head, but the swift movement saw bullets pass them by. The only person that didn’t move at all was Michael Crouch.

Nobody fired on the boss. Alicia never knew for what reason; she assumed because he was the object of conversation for Jensen, but his position between two shooters and Healey and Caitlyn helped save their lives.

Jensen raised the Glock.

Crouch bounded, still fleet of foot despite his age, and caught Jensen’s gun hand. The two came together struggling hard. Ex-SAS training brought to bear on both sides, and neither was better. Both men fell to their knees.

Alicia wrenched her eyes away from the individual battles and focused on her own. Russo had finally started to focus, and wounded their opponent. Alicia jumped upright and emptied her magazine into the man before he could react further. Russo followed her. Over to the right, Healey and Caitlyn slipped among the rubble, falling hard as more shots rang out. The shots arrived a moment later than both Alicia’s and Russo’s however, so ended up being aimed at the clouds as the shooters fell over backwards, already dead.

Alicia put two slugs into the dirt beside Jensen’s left knee.

“Game’s up, fool.”

She didn’t add but thought: At last.

Jensen eyed her and the others and then sighed loudly. He gave up his battle with Crouch and his grip of the gun.

“We solved nothing,” he said wearily. “Nothing.”

“You can recite that lament whilst you rot in jail.”

“A lament? Yes, I have failed.”

Alicia watched as Crouch moved back and Russo went over to help Healey and Caitlyn gain their feet. Both were bruised and sported small cuts but were otherwise okay.

She now saw the approach of local authorities, noticed the destroyed cathedral once more, and winced.

“Crap, this is gonna take some explaining.”

Crouch shook his head. “That just won’t work,” he said. “We’d better start running.”