Last Man Standing

CHAPTER FORTY

All hell broke loose in the town of Sunnyvale.

The SAS had slipped around the flanks of the merc army and were among them. Paid mercenaries twisted every which way, fighting hard. SO units came at them from covered positions. Men fell, twisted and bled in the dirt. A high inflatable slide exploded and rapidly deflated among them, its flapping sides knocking three men off their feet. A funhouse, built on two levels of shaking walkways, distorting mirrors, screaming sirens and irregular steps exploded as two RPGs hit it. Timber and flame fired high into the air, debris shooting out like crazy fireworks, the whole thing lit like a blazing bonfire. Whatever snipers were inside died instantly.

Drake, Mai and Alicia ran at Beauregard and Coyote. Dahl revved his bike and shot forward like a bullet.

The big wheel, poised above the funhouse and littered with burning wreckage from its arms to its gondolas, shuddered and groaned for the second time that morning. Then, in slow motion, it started to tilt, the massive structure now leaning over. For a moment, as all eyes turned upward, it halted, hesitating as if deciding whether to hang on or give up the ghost. The morning was still for one precious instant, a span of tension and fear and a little regret, and then the circular edifice collapsed.

It came down among the men, bodies darting everywhere, some waiting until the last second and coolly stepping aside, others tying to gauge the structure’s fall and being slammed into by those in a panic. Mayhem reigned. Those that still stood in the aftermath tried to pick off their enemies, some never losing a beat. Those that were injured or crushed yelled out to their colleagues and, depending on which side they were on, received immediate help.

Drake slid into Coyote, taking her legs. Alicia feinted past Beauregard, drawing his attention.

“Get a little closer, Beau. I got a ruler in my pocket and, man, do I wanna use it.”

The Frenchman paused, as if confused. That gave Dahl all the time he needed to ram the speeding bike into his body, hurling him away from the handlebars. The Swede didn’t let up on the throttle one bit, knowing they had to take such a dangerous enemy completely out of the picture.

When Beauregard landed, Alicia jumped atop him, just to make sure.

Drake had slid past Coyote, put a palm on the ground, and used it to spin his body back around. Now, as Coyote scrambled up, he hit her at the same time as Mai. The double-headed attack left the assassin lying on her back, winded and trying to catch her breath.

“Give it up,” Drake said. “Tell your mercs to stand down. It’s over.”

Coyote spat at him.

“Shelly,” Drake tried. “There’s no need for any more loss of life.”

Crouch joined them. “We protect our people, Shelly. Not sacrifice them.”

Coyote snarled. “Shelly died when she was eight! When I made her torture her first small animal. Innocent girl, long lost. Poor girl. Poor parents. They knew when she changed. They knew when the killer took root. Only it was me who learned to control it. To feed it slowly and never get caught. If Shelly ever came back… the animal would destroy her.”

Drake stepped back as Coyote kicked out and managed to regain her feet. Mai produced a pistol that she’d taken from a dead merc in anticipation of this moment.

“Stop,” she said. “This is over.”

Coyote smiled. The sugar-sweet tones slipped once more across Drake’s senses. “The nano-vests were an experiment for the Pythians,” she said. “In the event of my capture that was the last thing I was supposed to tell you. My job is over.”

“Experiment?” Drake repeated. “What kind of experiment?”

“I don’t know. When Kovalenko failed them in DC — he was supposed to put one on the President you know — it fell to me as the next person in line to try them out. My guess? It’s nothing fun.”

Drake felt his heart plummet like a falling star. “Kovalenko was working for someone? No way.”

“The Pythians helped bankroll him when he couldn’t get access to his money in prison. You think he did that? No way. They fine-tuned the op in DC. They gave him the drone that was used, the nano-vests.”

“Before today I never even heard of the goddamn Pythians.”

“You will,” Coyote said. “Very soon. Their agenda is global and lengthy.”

Mai waved her pistol. “Are you giving up?”

Coyote smiled a little wistfully. “Shelly will never let you take me alive.”

Drake looked around: At the battle behind them that still raged; SAS troops darting in and out of enemy positions; police officers crouched behind the dead, using their bodies as shields as they picked off more of their opponents. A central stall caught fire as he watched, hanging prizes melting and popping. A food stand fell over, crushing an unlucky merc. Mud glistened across the entire scene. Beyond where the big wheel had stood was a rollercoaster and now, spectacularly, its central supports buckled, making the entire metal track warp.

The mercs had seen that they were losing, dying. Death didn’t offer a pay packet, nor a second chance or day release. Not like the British penal system. Some of them were already surrendering.

“I don’t see a way out for you, Shelly.”

“Coyote,” the woman growled. “Call me Coyote.”

And she stepped back, pulling her jacket wide open, to reveal the nano-vest buckled to her chest. The light in her eyes was crazed but the look on her face was almost blissful.

“I’m so glad my torture is at an end,” she said and detonated.