Crusader's Gold

TWENTY

Alicia twisted away, knowing their enemy would already have weapons drawn. The rusted car stood at her back and she ducked behind the flat wheels. The noise she heard then, however, wasn’t the expected gunfire, it was the roaring whine of a motorcycle engine. No, she thought as she lifted her head over the side. Dirt bikes.

Swerving left and right, men burst toward them. They must have wheeled them into position, she thought. That meant somebody had known the team’s destination almost at the same time they did.

We’re bugged. Or…

Not even the slightest hint of betrayal entered her mind. Not with this team. The approaching men all held compact machine pistols which Alicia recognized as the GEN4 Glock; deadly and accurate at the worst of times.

Her first shot hammered into a front tire, upsetting the bike’s balance and sending its rider flying into the front of the immobile car. The crunch of impact told her they would no longer be a problem. By then, a second bike was scrambling up to her position, its muddy wheels spitting gravel like tiny missiles. Alicia ducked as she heard the clatter and bang of flying stones and a rush of dirt flew over the car and onto the top of her head.

“Bastard’s gonna pay for that.”

She rose, firing, but the merc had already leapt from his bike and crashed down upon her. Alicia felt the unexpected impact like a house collapsing and folded. Stars exploded before her eyes. The ground was a stunning, ungiving slab. Her opponent tumbled past, his momentum unstoppable. Alicia groaned for an instant and remained immobile until some sense of reality returned.

It came in the form of Russo’s boot being planted beside her head.

“No time for napping. We’ve a plane to catch.”

Alicia struggled to her knees, head still spinning. The pilots had raced back to the plane’s cockpit and started the engines. Power was already starting to thrum through the wings and down into the tarmac. Russo rendered the flying merc comatose as Alicia finally rose unsteadily to her feet.

“Wow, felt like I was hit by a truck.”

“Let’s hope it knocks some sense into you, eh?”

Alicia took in her surroundings in an instant. Kenzie was hoofing it toward the plane, Crouch and Caitlyn trying to cut her off. Healey stood before two dirt bike riders as bullets ripped up the road at his feet. Three more were slewing around the front of the rusted car.

Alicia and Russo picked up the fallen merc between them and hurled his body at the new arrivals. Their combined force was enough to take two down and make the third cartwheel over their wreckage. Russo finished them off fast as Alicia vaulted the front of the rusted car, still with a ringing in her ears, and returned fire at those who assailed Healey.

With a sudden lunge she was lucky enough to pluck one off his bike. The merc landed well though and was quickly up, confronting her. Alicia feinted, but fell to one knee, still unbalanced by her earlier collision. The merc struck at her. Quickly, she rolled on to her side firing upwards. The world spun again and a sense of nausea came over her. Healey backed up. A bike shot past, between them, a fire-breathing monster with intent to kill.

Crouch headed Kenzie off at the cargo door, planting his bulk before her advance. With a handgun steadied at his side he paused for a moment. “This isn’t your game. Not anymore. Get out whilst you can.”

“What? Go back to robbing Arabs of the petty treasures they’ve unearthed in the desert? To laying in the sand and dust for hours? To slogging through scorching sunshine and coughing my lungs up every night? I think not.”

Crouch uttered a grunt of shock when Kenzie produced a gleaming weapon.

“A sword? Are you kidding?”

“It’s a katana. Reforged from several swords originally made of true Damascus steel. My sweetheart.”

Alicia staggered toward the confrontation. “Your sweetheart’s a sword? And you melted down old Damascus steel to make it? Lady, you truly are a crackhead looney.”

Kenzie swiped the sword through an arc as the plane’s engines roared. The pilot’s face could be seen through the open cockpit door and his voice drifted out.

“Get the fuck on! Now!”

Crouch dodged another swipe, pushing Caitlyn behind him. He raised his gun but in a flash Kenzie had smashed it out of his hand with the edge of the katana. Alicia saw him flinch and grab his arm in pain. Alicia found herself having to leap aside as the blade cleaved air where she had just been standing. The strike, as much as anything, confirmed Kenzie’s willingness to do bloody murder… if it had landed it would have taken Alicia’s face off.

As fast and deadly as a warhead, Kenzie barged both Alicia and Crouch out of the way and faced Caitlyn.

“Where the fuck’s the treasure, bitch?”

The sword came down. Caitlyn threw herself to the side, landing hard on the plane’s lowered cargo door. As Alicia whirled she saw that it was moving, slowly picking up speed.

Shit! This pilot’s lifting off with or without us!

Russo and Healey struggled hard, first depriving the mercs of their bikes and then battling them hand to hand. Alicia smashed a fist into Kenzie’s back, then lifted her own weapon. Before she could fire Kenzie had flicked a knife in her direction. The first Alicia knew the blade was wobbling in her arm, barely piercing her flesh.

“You’re faster than you look.”

“And you’re slower than I expected.”

Alicia eyed the roaring plane, the cargo door already slowly closing. Crouch sprinted and caught hold at the same time as Caitlyn, pulling himself aboard. Alicia looked around for Healey and Russo.

“Get a bloody move on!”

Pivoting, she blew Kenzie a kiss and launched herself over the rising door, slamming her shoulder on rigid metal but refusing to release a yell of pain. She tumbled down the short slope, then caught hold of a strut and immediately scrambled back up to see if Healey or Russo needed help.

It was worse than she expected.

Healey lay on his back as a bearded merc kicked at his thighs. Russo struggled in the process of throwing another off and dealing with an approaching Kenzie. The sword flashed, floodlights glinting off the sheer blade. Russo rolled onto the merc, breaking the man’s arm in the process. Healey was up on one knee, fending his attacker’s brutal kicks to the side, skill and purpose helping him overcome his disadvantage. Alicia climbed up on to the edge of the rising tailgate, shouting, feeling the thrum of the engines picking up speed by the second, now at walking pace, now at jogging pace, accelerating.

“Slow it down!” Crouch told the pilot. “We have men out there!”

“Not a chance,” the pilot called back. “I didn’t get paid to fight Uma fucking Thurman.”

Alicia made to jump over the tailgate but Crouch grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

The sound of a dirt bike caught her attention, then another as she looked up. Russo had climbed aboard one of the discarded bikes and hauled Healey up behind him. Kenzie was in hot pursuit on her own bike, holding the handlebars with one hand and wielding her sword with the other. Russo leaned over the front tire, obviously sensing every reason to tilt his body forward. Healey twisted around behind him, watching Kenzie’s approach.

Russo gunned it, streaking toward the quickening plane. Alicia desperately sought a way to halt the ascending door. On the floor she found a thick wrench, probably used on this rust bucket for bolting the wings back on, and jammed it into the mechanism. There was a shriek of metal and a long groan, but the door did stop climbing.

Russo leaned hard over, swerving the bike as Kenzie drifted in close, swinging her sword at the same time. The blade sundered air that they had just occupied. Healey cried out, venting pent-up fear and frustration like a perforated exhaust. Kenzie sped up again, chasing the tail of the first bike, twirling her blade around her fingers like a cheerleader twirls her batons. Alicia saw a mad glint in the woman’s eyes. In another second she had set her sights on the bike but knew even that was useless. The plane was bouncing and jolting, the bikes swerving and jarring. She’d be lucky to come within three meters of her enemy.

Russo cleverly veered right across Kenzie’s bows, cutting her off and forcing her to brake hard. Kenzie came an inch from flying over the handlebars, but held on to her sword. Russo turned sharply again, opening the throttle now and racing hard for the plane. Screaming engines filled Alicia’s ears. Tarmac flew beneath the wheels, rumbling past, a growling, unyielding river.

Crouch joined her at the top of the tailgate, gripping down hard to hang on, their feet barely touching the floor of the plane. The wrench twisted slightly within the operating mechanism, causing the door to shudder. Alicia motioned frantically toward the approaching Russo.

“Come on! You’re so close I can make out your wizened little eyes! Now push it!”

Russo couldn’t have heard her, but he certainly understood. With a twist he opened the throttle to its fullest, forcing the bike to spring ahead. Kenzie followed suit half a second later, keeping pace. Alicia stared hard into Russo’s eyes.

How the hell is he going to…

Russo said something to Healey. The young soldier reacted instantly and with complete trust. As Russo raced as close as he dared to the rattling tailgate Healey climbed his body, discarded his gun and crouched on the man’s shoulders. Then, with an extra moment to steady himself he sprang from Russo’s shoulders, crossing the space between the bike and the plane, hitting the top edge of the tailgate and sprawling over. Crouch clutched him by the arms, pulling hard, and Healey slid into the plane, taking Crouch tumbling with him.

Alicia stared at Russo. Already the plane was starting to out-accelerate the bike and would soon reach take-off speed. Russo was out of time.

Kenzie swung in from the right, sword flashing as she came in close. Russo deliberately braked so that she shot past, the sword clipping his front mudguard, and then juiced the bike for the last time.

All or nothing. Alicia saw the knowledge in his face.

The plane boomed, traveling faster by the second. The bike screamed at the edge of its capabilities. Kenzie wheeled around and attacked again, crazy for blood. This wasn’t just about determining their destination, Alicia knew. Kenzie surely had the organization in place to be able to track a plane. The local council could track a bloody plane. This was about territory and one-upmanship and fear. It was a terrible challenge.

Russo stood up on the bike, balancing on tiptoes, then brought his feet up to the seat. The wheels hit a small ridge, making the whole skeleton bounce. Russo held on, hunched and with his teeth bared. The time came when the bike was as close as it was ever going to get. Alicia knew it. Russo knew it. The plane was starting to pull away.

“Slow down!” Alicia cried. “A few more seconds!”

“Can’t,” the pilot shouted back. “We’re almost out of runway!”

Russo visibly gathered himself and then jumped. Alicia saw immediately that he wasn’t going to make it. The runway was hard and brutal and landing on it at this speed would kill Russo immediately. Alicia flung most of her body over the top of the tailgate, balancing with the top of her hips, arms outstretched.

“Russo!”

A hand gripped hers, a disembodied, desperate hand. Russo clamped on, feet bouncing momentarily off the tarmac and drawing a bellow of pain from the large man. Alicia’s other hand seized his other arm and pulled.

Dragging Russo was like dragging a full-grown walrus, and Alicia’s body started to slip over the tailgate. Determined, she held on. She wouldn’t let him go. Her eyes locked onto his and she could almost hear the conversation.

Let me go, Myles. Don’t be an idiot.

Not a chance, asshole.

No point both of us dying.

Shut your stupid mouth.

Alicia slipped further. Russo’s boots slammed against the tarmac again. The discarded bike bounced along with them for a moment, throwing sparks into the night before falling behind. Kenzie pulled up broadside, showing no emotion. The plane shrieked as it reached take-off speed and suddenly Alicia felt the angle change.

Fuck!

Only her powerful thighs were keeping her aboard now. Russo couldn’t help; he had nothing to leverage with. It was a moment of utter madness, of one soldier keeping the other safe, of one friend refusing to let the other die. It was clinging on to hope until the very last thread had unraveled and the point of return was long gone.

The plane climbed. Alicia slipped over the tailgate with no thought for herself; only the need to keep Russo alive in her head. Strong crosswinds buffeted her, whipping at her face and hair. As the rushing tarmac beckoned strong hands suddenly grabbed her own legs, holding tight and trying to haul her back inside. But Alicia refused to give Russo up. The pulling hands weren’t strong enough. A moment later a second pair grabbed hold, this time much further up, and also started to pull.

Alicia grunted in surprise and slid back inside the plane with her aching arms still attached to Russo’s enormous hands. Both soldiers fell in a heap, exhausted and battered, too spent to acknowledge they were happy to be alive. Breathing and feeling pain were now the best sensations in the world.

At last, Alicia eyed Healey. “That’s a hell of a way to cop a feel, Zacky.”

Healey managed a tired smile. “Good job you’ve got some meat on your ass. Gave me something to grab hold of.”

Alicia’s eyes went wide. “Feeling brave aren’t we? If I had an ounce of strength left you’d be over my bloody knee.”

“Ooo, can’t wait.”

Crouch signaled for quiet. “So now we have Riley and Kenzie right on our tail. This is bad, folks. Not only are we in danger but everywhere we go ends up like a war zone. I’m really thinking we may need some help.”

“Drakey?” Alicia said hopefully.

“No. The SPEAR team’s busy chasing ghost ships.” Crouch shook his head. “But this feels like war.”

“It is war.”

Crouch watched the tailgate finally slam into place, his eyes deep pools of unease. “Then let’s start fighting back.”