The Gates of Hell

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Hayden faced off against Ed Boudreau and the world melted away.

“Pleased to kill you,” Boudreau repeated the words he’d said to her once before. “Again.”

“You failed last time, psycho. You’ll fail again.”

Boudreau flicked a glance down to her leg. “How’s the thigh?”

“All better.” Hayden stayed on the balls of her feet, expecting the lightning attack. She tried to steer the American so his ass was against the barn wall, but he was too wily for that.

“You’re blood.” Boudreau mimed licking his knife. “Tasted good. I think my baby here wants more.”

“Unlike your sister,” Hayden growled. “She really couldn’t take any more.”

Boudreau exploded toward her. Hayden had been expecting it and sidestepped neatly, leaving her blade for his cheek to run into. “First blood,” she said.

“Foreplay.” Boudreau lunged and retreated, then came at her with several short slices. Hayden parried them all and finished with a palm strike to his nose. Boudreau staggered, tears coming to his eyes.

Hayden instantly pressed the advantage, thrusting and slicing with her knife. She backed Boudreau up against the wall, then retreated for one beat—

Boudreau lunged.

Hayden ducked under and jabbed the knife into his thigh. She withdrew as he screamed, unable to keep the sly grin from creeping into her eyes.

“Ya feel that, fuckstick?”

“Bitch!” Boudreau went crazy. But it was the crazy of a fighter, of a thinker, of a seasoned warrior. He drove her back with thrust after thrust, taking crazy chances, but retaining just enough power and speed to make her think twice about stepping in. And now, as they ploughed backward, they collided with other knots of fighting men and Hayden lost her balance.

She fell, scrambling across a fallen man’s knee, rolled and came up, knife ready.

Boudreau melted away through the crowd, the grin on his face turning to a leer as he tasted his own blood and brandished the knife.

“Be seeing you,” he shouted over the din. “I know where you live, Miss Jaye.”

Hayden kicked one of the Blood King’s men out of the way, snapping the man’s leg like a twig as she cleared a path to Boudreau. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mai, clearly the game-changer in this battle, fighting unarmed against men with sharp weapons, the battle too close up for gunplay, and leaving them heaped at her feet. Hayden gaped at the dead and dying that twitched all around her.

Even Boudreau, she saw, did a double-take when he followed Hayden’s gaze and saw the legendary Japanese agent in action.

Mai eyeballed Hayden. “Right behind you.”

Hayden sprinted at Boudreau.

The Blood King’s top psycho took off as if a Hawaiian mongoose was snapping at his heels. Hayden and Mai pursued. Mai dealt a devastating blow to another of Kovalenko’s men as she passed, thus saving another soldier’s life.

Beyond the barn lay an open field, a helipad complete with chopper, and a narrow jetty where several boats lay at anchor. Boudreau sped past the chopper, heading for a big speedboat and didn’t even break stride when he leapt on board, tumbling through the air. Before Hayden could even make it past the chopper, the big boat was already burbling away and starting to inch ahead.

Mai began to slow. “That’s a Baja. Very fast, and with three men already waiting inside. Those other boats are sedate by comparison.” Her eyes drank in the chopper. “Now that’s what we need.”

Hayden ducked as a bullet whizzed by them, barely noticing. “Can you fly it?”

Mai favored her with a ‘are you really asking me that question?’ look, before stepping onto a skid and jumping inside. Before Hayden got there, Mai already had the main rotor spinning and Boudreau’s boat let out a mighty roar as it surged off down the river.

“Have faith,” Mai said softly, displaying the legendary patience she was known for as Hayden ground her teeth in frustration. In a minute, the machine was ready to fly. Mai finessed the collective. The skids left the ground. A bullet thudded into the pillar beside Hayden’s head.

She flinched away, then turned to see the last of the Blood King’s men collapse under fire. One of the Hawaiian special forces soldiers gave them a big thumbs up as the chopper began to dip and turn in preparation to pursue the speedboat. Hayden waved back.

Just another crazy day in her life.

But she was still here. Still surviving. The old Jaye motto crept back into her head. Survive another day. Just live. Even at moments like this, she sorely missed her dad.

In a minute the chopper wobbled and swooped off in hot pursuit. Hayden’s stomach was left somewhere back at the camp and she gripped the handholds until her knuckles hurt. Mai didn’t miss a beat.

“Keep your pants on.”

Hayden tried to take her mind off the hair-raising ride by checking the state of her weapons. Her knife was back in its holder. Her only remaining gun was a standard-issue Glock, not the Caspian she had favored lately. But, what the hell, a gun’s a gun, right?

Mai flew low enough to catch spray on the windscreen. The big yellow boat powered through the wide river ahead. Hayden saw figures standing in the back, watching them get closer. No doubt they were armed.

Mai dipped her head and then looked hard at Hayden. “Guts and glory.”

Hayden nodded. “All the way.”

Mai punched the collective, sending the chopper in a vicious dive, on a collision course for the yellow Baja. Predictably, the men stood around its flank fell back in shock. Hayden leant out of the window and squeezed off a shot. The bullet went hopelessly wide.

Mai passed her a half-empty M9. “Make ‘em count.”

Hayden fired again. One of Boudreau’s men shot back, the bullet pinging off the chopper’s canopy. Mai zigzagged the collective, sending Hayden’s head crashing off a support pillar. Then Mai dived again, aggressive, giving no quarter. Hayden emptied the clip of her Glock and saw one of Boudreau’s men go flying off the boat in a spray of blood.

Then another bullet hit the chopper, followed by a flurry of others. The big machine presented a big target. Hayden saw Boudreau at the wheel of the boat, knife held firmly between his teeth, firing up at them with a machine pistol.

“Oh,” Mai’s shout was an understatement as black smoke suddenly billowed out of the chopper and the engine note changed drastically from a roar to a whine. Without guidance, the chopper began to weave and jerk.

Mai blinked at Hayden.

Hayden waited until they were over Boudreau’s boat and threw open her door as the chopper came down.

She looked into the very whites of Boudreau’s eyes, said, “Fuck it,” and leapt out of the falling helicopter.