The Blood King Conspiracy

CHAPTER THIRTY

Without looking back, Alicia Myles flung on trousers and a T-shirt and sprinted away from the only man she had ever contemplated a future with. The mellowness that had started to eat away at her bitter edges, the laughter that had started to soothe her soul, disintegrated like so much confetti in the rain, leaving nothing but the razor-edge mind of a stone-cold killer.

Mobile crammed against her forehead she ran like a maniac, gun waving, still coated in blood, and all who saw her shied away and started reaching for cell-phones of their own.

“Drake? Pineapple! We’re done. Hudson’s… dead,” the words tangled in her throat. “There’s a bloody army on its way. You hear me, fuckhead?”

Drake heard a hundred emotions in Alicia’s frantic tones. Chief among them was distress. And it was over the death of Tim Hudson. He felt a moment’s sorrow before the code-word pineapple! really struck home.

“Cover the lobby. We’ll be there in three minutes.”

Hayden was already frowning at him. The others were engaged in conversation.

“We’re compromised. The Blood King has found us.”

His words struck the room dead. “Don’t worry,” he spoke to them all. “We’ll get through this.”

“Leave it all!” Hayden shouted, already on the move. “We only need the controller.”

Kinimaka was at her side. Drake motioned Ben and Kennedy to follow and brought up the rear with Wells and Mai. As a group, they flew out of the room and down the corridor towards the stairs. The good thing was he heard no sound of fire coming from below. Perhaps the main force hadn’t arrived yet.

Which would allow them to fade away, slip down a few back alleys, steal a mini-van maybe, head for Fort Lauderdale.

They pounded down the stairs. Hayden banged through the door that led to the lobby and swung her CIA issue into a two-handed pose as she moved forward. Kinimaka fanned out to her right, brushing by the enormous fish tank. Drake pushed past Ben and Kennedy, eyes sweeping the three front entrances and trying to penetrate the darkened grounds outside.

Alicia hovered near the big desk. A different pretty girl stood behind it now, her face betraying how concerned she was about Alicia’s appearance.

Drake moved towards the girl. “Leave,” he nodded towards the back. “Please. Now.”

He’d seen the furtive movement outside. But his warning came too late for them all. The hotel’s front windows shattered as multiple weapons opened fire. Tons of shards and sheets of glass came crashing down in a deadly avalanche. Everyone dived for cover as bullets pinged and whizzed around the lobby, thudding into plaster walls and concrete beams and earthenware pots.

Drake dived on top of Ben and immediately began to shuffle them both across the plush carpet towards the hotel’s check-in desk, using sheer brute force.

“If only my mum could see me now,” Ben grunted, but at least he was keeping his chin up.

Drake grabbed him in a bear hug and double-rolled them behind the heavy desk. A few feet in front of him the desk clerk was on her knees, screaming. Blood soaked a patch on her shoulder.

Drake scooted across. “Listen to me,” he shouted. “Listen! Doing nothing will get you killed. Now, go.”

He manhandled her towards the door that led to the back office. Not safe by any means, but safer than where she had been. A figure came around the corner of the desk, Kennedy, which made Drake exhale a gulp of relief. One of these damn days he was going to have to start carrying a gun.

But then, it was so much cheaper prying them from the hands of his dead enemies.

The sound of running boots galvanised Drake further. These bastards were taking no prisoners, attacking with devastating force and only one goal in mind. The ex-soldier popped up his head quickly to take in the scene.

Ruined front windows. His heart skipped several beats to see a group of tourists huddled over by the potted plants in the corner. They weren’t taking cover, just sitting there in shock, and the Blood King’s men were taking a bead on them.

“No!”

It did no good except to draw unwanted attention. Madness prevailed, as it had through every step of this Caribbean nightmare, as the innocents were shot dead. Now Drake could hear a voice screaming above all the noise, a voice that could only belong to Ed Boudreau.

From somewhere, Hayden and Kinimaka were firing back. The first wave of killers were quickly decimated as they ran into the hotel and collapsed, blocking the path of those running behind them.

Drake used the disruption to vault the check-in desk. He landed and rolled to the left, scooping up a weapon as he went. In another moment he was smack-bang in the middle of a melee. The enemy came at him from all sides, too close to use weapons effectively, but striking with arms and heads and knees. Drake blocked and ducked and side-stepped, but still he would have faltered if it wasn’t for Hayden and Kinimaka clinically taking out every man around him. Then, as if Christmas had come early, Mai had waded in to his right and Alicia was to his left. Killing machines both, they cut a swath of destruction through the bad guys. Mai ended a life with every strike of her limbs. Alicia hurt or maimed a man with every punch. Drake used the gun.

For a moment the enemy onslaught faltered.

Then Drake saw the second wave coming, armed to the teeth, and he knew this night was far from over.

“Cover!” he cried. “Regroup to cover. Now!”