Chasing Gold

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Alicia spoke very little as the plane skimmed down the runway, and they were quickly transferred to a helicopter. The atmosphere between them was terse and professional, brooking no mistakes.

The chopper rose immediately, and someone introduced men that Alicia was grateful for but also men she hoped to God wouldn’t get in her way. It was a difficult and complex scenario. The Hawaiians didn’t want such a high-profile resort like Turtle Bay to become associated with terrorists let alone host a gun battle, but neither did they want these terrorists to further their goals.

Whatever they were… Merriweather was still keeping a countrywide lid on the facts.

“We’re twenty minutes out,” a man said.

Alicia nodded her thanks. Another agent handed her a color photograph. “Airport CCTV caught this an hour ago.”

She studied the print, saw Crouch, Terri, Ricci and the other two terrorists all present. “Our worst fears,” she said. “I’m guessing you just received this?”

“Not five minutes ago.”

She nodded. The trouble with hiding the stark, terrible truth behind an operation meant that it did not receive the prompt attention that it should. At least she could set it straight now.

The chopper soared over the island of Oahu, hugging the coastline and passing right by the capital city of Honolulu, the main tourist destination. She leaned over to study the white-colored, high-rise hotels, bars, restaurants and sandy beaches. Even the air over Hawaii was tranquil, it seemed, the chopper cutting through the skies with no resistance. She spotted more curving coastline and then the unmistakable shattered peak that was Diamond Head, a place she’d visited once before with the SPEAR team, such a long time ago.

We fought the Blood King there, she remembered. Deep underneath at the Gates of Hell. Didn’t kill him though. That was later — at Death Valley.

And good riddance. She focused again on the new, current threat — a man called Ricci and his stupidly loyal colleagues. Diamond Head fell away and soon they were nearing the north shore.

Alicia made ready. Russo, Caitlyn, and even Austin and Cutler were fully kitted out with battle gear and weapons. The latter weren’t expecting to use them but were being dropped into a hot zone where anything could happen. Caution was imperative.

Turtle Bay was an upscale resort, situated on a resplendent outcropping of the north shore with incredible, scenic views of the Pacific and the meandering shoreline. The hotel consisted of three buildings, shaped like a three-pointed star, and came equipped with every conceivable comfort a traveler could imagine. Alicia saw the three-pointed star now as they descended rapidly through the air, aiming for the parking lots situated to the south of the property. It would be a short jog to the main building.

Of course, if the terrorists were alert they stood a good chance of seeing the chopper as it swooped in.

Alicia, Russo and four Hawaiian agents in combat gear jumped out of their seats before it landed. As soon as their boots hit the asphalt they were running. Alicia felt a warm breeze and a hot sun; it was the same day she’d arrived in Las Vegas, although it was late afternoon now here on Oahu. The skies were cloudless, the air balmy. Everywhere she looked, tourists ambled around in shorts and T-shirts or packed luggage and surf boards into their cars. Should we try to flush Ricci out quickly with a few shots into the skies or take the more secure route?

She badly wanted to follow the former instinct, but knew that the Hawaiians would stick to the latter.

It took a few minutes to reach the main buildings. Here, paths ran around the sides, leading to pools, sun loungers and a private beach access. Alicia saw that the hotel was huge — it would be almost impossible to find a guest without help from the staff.

Russo was at her side. “You think we’re in time?”

“We have to be.”

“We should send a few people straight around the side,” Alicia told the lead agent, a man named Vino.

“Reception will give us the information we need.”

“I mean — they’re headed directly from here to the oil tanker. That means boats.”

He saw the sense of it. “You two go then but do not engage unless you’re fired upon. You hear me?”

Alicia nodded immediately. “Understood, boss.”

Russo almost managed to keep his face straight.

Making sure Caitlyn knew to keep an eye on Cutler, she dashed around the corner before slowing and hiding her gun underneath their jacket. The situation and the location did not go well together; even Alicia acknowledged it was a tough predicament for the Hawaiians. A nice vista opened out before them: grassy banks and a pool full of bright blue water, bordered by sun loungers and palm trees. To the left, hotel rooms reached up several stories.

“Once we pass the pool we’ll see the beach,” Alicia urged Russo on.

“It appears to be a series of small pools,” Russo said. “Landscaped to be almost hidden from each other — tiny lagoons maybe, leading us to the ocean.”

“Hark at the fucking travel guide. Keep your eyes open.”

“Always, ma’am.”

Alicia choked and Russo grinned, knowing how she hated the title. She ignored him, studying the hotel balconies at her side and the landscape ahead. Surely the Hawaiian agents would have been given a room number by now.

She plucked her radio off its webbed belt.

And somewhere above, the first shots rang out. Bullets strafed the turf all around her boots, making her dance like a manic Irish dancer.

“Fuck!”

A fast glance up told the story. Terrorists were crowding onto a first-floor balcony, faces grim and determined, carrying an assortment of shotguns, semi-autos and pistols. Among them she saw the mad boss, Ricci, and a brief peek of Terri.

Those aiming down fired again.

Alicia and Russo dived headlong, rolling toward the nearest cover. Bullets marked their path. Men leaned over the balcony, surveying all directions. Screams started to sound around the hotel and its grounds as people heard gunfire.

Alicia scrambled behind one of the rolling turf banks, seeing that the gunmen were distracted by something, and trying to get an idea of what was going on.

“Looks like Ricci has reinforcements.”

Three men were carrying something toward the edge of the balcony. A mattress. Carefully, they tipped it over the edge and let it fall. Three more men then appeared carrying a second, which they managed to drop onto the first. Instantly then, the lead gunman jumped onto the railing.

“Cops must be heading for the front door,” Russo said.

“Yeah, as usual somebody tipped them off. I guess it’s up to us now.”

Russo sighed. “Just another day at the office with Miss Myles.”

“Ooh, I like that. You make it sound dirty.”

Russo smiled, knowing the camaraderie was necessary, and lined up the first terrorist as he leapt over the balcony.

“Shall we?”

“No need to ask.”

Russo fired, catching the man in the stomach and spinning him around. Blood burst across the grass and the mattresses as he fell dead. Another man was already jumping, gun clasped across his chest, and his eyes suddenly grew wide. Above though, the terrorists showed at least a modicum of training as they crouched between the rails and gave him cover by firing at Alicia and Russo.

The Englishwoman rolled back to safety. Her radio crackled.

“Vino here. Can you see what’s going on back there?”

“Yeah, they know you’re coming and are jumping out the back. We’re under fire.”

“Shit. Numbers?”

“At least a dozen. But our friendlies are among them.”

“To be expected, I guess. We’re breaching the door in sixty.”

“Make it twenty.”

Alicia hooked the radio onto her belt and rolled again. Three men were standing on the mattress, taking aim at her area of cover. She shot one, making him collapse and fall into the building. His colleagues fired back as another man jumped and another climbed onto the balcony railing.

Russo was scrambling to alternate cover. Once there he peeked out, took aim, and picked off another terrorist. Instantly, gunfire came from above, peppering his hiding place. One of the bullets tugged at his jacket. Russo crawled clear.

Alicia shot one of the terrorists balancing on top of the rail and saw him fall amongst the men below. Nevertheless, more men crowded forward and blanketed her hiding place with bullets.

Alicia slithered down the bank and away.

She found herself skirting the first pool, a shallow, tropical-blue, heart-shaped puddle surrounded by palm trees. The water looked inviting. Alicia turned her nose up at it and scrambled back up the bank, emerging at a different vantage point. As she crawled she saw civilians on the left, running toward the parking areas and further up the beach.

At least one thing was going right.

Among the greenery, she peered out. Six men now guarded the mattresses and another three were up top. Three more were visible just coming out of the room, herding Terri and Crouch between them. Alicia glimpsed Ricci too, standing behind Crouch.

A noise came from the room, something loud. That’d be Vino breaching.

And then everything went to hell. Alicia gaped as terrorists launched themselves off the first floor balcony, arms and legs and heads filling the air and clattering against each other as they fell. Seconds later Crouch and Terri and their captors were either pushed or jumping, the mattresses grew crowed. Bones broke. Guns and knives flew in all directions. Men fell, sprawled and staggered into the side of the hotel.

Alicia took her chance.