Last Man Standing

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Karin took only a moment to review Crouch’s request and then rose quickly to her feet.

“Let’s go.”

Komodo held up a hand. “We should communicate with Washington. They may be able to help.”

“Do it on the way.”

Karin forced all thoughts of death and tragedy from her mind. The only way she could help her friends was to give them her full attention, allowing every thought process chance to live and develop and breathe on its own. The demands of cyberwarfare were huge, both on the brain and the subconscious, affecting not only instant cognitive reaction but also those thought processes that matured in the background, usually developing at length into the idea that won you the endgame.

Karin started the car, a rented Mini Cooper, and swerved out into traffic. Horns honked. Karin fiddled with the satnav whilst Komodo called DC. Luckily, the traffic lights through Leeds city center were frequent enough that they didn’t need to pull over. Karin took the route past a statue called the Black Prince and accelerated up Kirkstall Road.

Komodo spoke at last. “Smyth? What’s going on?”

Her boyfriend listened as Smyth unleased a veritable tirade. Karin cold hear the furious tones clear enough, especially as Komodo had to lift the phone away from his ear.

“Safe house got hit.” He shook his head, translating Smyth’s bluster. “Everyone’s safe. Kinimaka fought an… elephant, I think. Smyth did all the work. Saved the day. Fell off a building… the usual.”

Komodo stopped the man in his tracks with a few choice comments and brought him up to speed. Smyth’s rejoinder was surprisingly heated.

“What the hell are the Brits up to? They having Terrorist Amnesty week or something?”

“Coyote has prepared and planned this with the Blood King’s help and money,” Komodo said. “If the man can kidnap President Coburn he can sure engineer the shutdown of a town for twenty four hours.”

“Damn Russkie,” Smyth said. “Bastard’s in the ground and still haunting us.”

Komodo agreed, but didn’t say so out loud. Instead he explained Karin’s new role as she shot past a Vue cinema and restaurant area, then negotiated a series of bends. Soon, the main road was left behind and darkness closed over the car. Even the streetlights were sparse. Komodo didn’t like it, and ended the call saying he would get back to the DC team.

“Where the hell are we?”

Karin shrugged. “Almost there. I trust Crouch. Don’t you?”

Komodo grunted. “Drake does. But the man’s been compromised for years. How’s that affecting him right now?”

“Dunno. Maybe when this is over he and Michael can sit down and talk about it.”

Komodo wondered at her brusque tone but ignored it. “Well, it’ll take more than a coffee at Starbucks with Crouch to convince me, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

Karin stopped the car outside a nondescript warehouse. The place was in darkness, streetlights out for blocks around, surrounding businesses either closed down or shut for the night.

A man glided out of the shadows ahead. For all intents and purposes he looked like a local security guard, even to the apparent paunch at his waist. The only things that gave him away was the chiseled face and observant eyes; the hand that never left his pocket. He signaled to Karin to turn the car headlights off.

Komodo climbed out of the car.

“Stop,” the guard said, carefully listening to a walkie-talkie and watching the big American.

“Karin Blake?” he asked.

“Not me, dude. She’s in the car.”

Not impressed, the guard turned away. “Follow me.”