The Last Bazaar

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Drake charged into the rainforest with the pack, just to keep up appearances. As expected, most of the crowd rushed on, their bodyguards resigned to following when they most likely should have lead, but a half dozen held back, inspecting the trail. It wasn’t hard to find footprints, but it was hard following the crowd and finding where the imprint of sandals veered away from the trail. Drake saw the distinction first and tried to hide it by muddying the impressions as he went, but it soon became clear that at least Akatash was following closely. The group fell silent as they went, partly to conserve energy and partly to help conceal their path. As the minutes passed all around became silent and they could have been the only people on the face of the world.

Drake found another imprint, this one so fresh it might only have just been made. Dahl’s job was to scan the trees and look for any telltale signs; Kinimaka’s job was to keep an eye on the pursuit. The path veered again and again, the prisoner perhaps trying to throw them off but more likely scared out of his wits. Drake saw movement ahead and crouched low, expecting the others to do the same.

Three Asians crossed their path; the primary guest and two bodyguards. This man was using his hired help, and they were tracking well. As Drake watched he saw a flash of pastel green ahead, the color though widespread, not natural in this place, and saw how close the Asians were.

“You see that?” he murmured.

Alicia placed a hand on his shoulder. “Yes.”

Drake crept toward the three Asians, who were making very little noise. As the moment neared when he could go no closer without alerting them to his presence he rose and laughed aloud, giving their leader a shock that registered clearly on his face. Both minders turned, weapons raised. Drake saw military knives in their hands and remembered this was a hunt, not a war.

Alicia walked right up to one of the guards. “How’s it going? Find anything?”

Drake skirted her and neared the other. “Bloody hot day, what?” He affected the poshest accent he could manage, and not well. “The sodding mozzies are knackering my A-negative count, eh, eh?” He snorted out laughter.

The knives lowered and the SPEAR team launched their attack. Alicia struck at her opponent’s throat and slammed his wrist. The knife fell and the man choked, but he remained in her face. He blocked her next attack, moving aside. His eyes watered. He brought a knee up to fend off her kick, found a tree and slipped around its wide trunk. Alicia followed, to be met with a swift kick to the face. Her nose bore the brunt, making her own eyes water and blood to start dripping down her face. Kinimaka then appeared on the Asian’s other side, forcing him into a swift decision. Of course, Alicia anticipated the decision correctly. He came at her, fast and deadly, striking like a true denizen of the jungle.

Drake grappled with his opponent, bearing him to the forest floor. They fell as one, landing softly amid the forest floor’s organic matter. The smaller Asian was fast and sprightly, squirming snake-like in Drake’s grip and trying to shift his blade around. Drake gripped the wrist hard, but as the men rolled, their flesh and clothes became slippery and he found it increasingly hard to hold on.

Dahl approached the main guest and told the well-dressed man to fall to his knees. When a confused expression lit his features the Swede moved in closer, and that’s when the Asian struck. Three blows, fast, hard and debilitating, connected with Dahl’s head, chest and groin and sent him falling to his knees. The next was a knee to the side of the head, but Dahl resisted the temptation to collapse.

Tricky little…

He bore another breath-taking blow to the vest and grabbed the leg that apportioned it. Pulling hard he sent the man toppling backwards. When he hit the floor, head-first, the Swede scrambled atop him dispensing hammer blow after hammer blow. The first responses were strong, skillful, but Dahl would have none of it. His fists rained down like the deluges they had endured in this very forest, but bloodying and bruising and bordering on terminal.

Yorgi motioned at Kinimaka as the pastel green shirt broke cover. The Russian thief was off like a gazelle, fast on his feet, and the big Hawaiian plunged right after. Yorgi called to the man to slow down, but the line between too much shouting and not enough was ambiguous enough to be non-existent. Yorgi closed the gap, but not nearly fast enough.

Alicia backed away from her own dazzling opponent, barely seeing some of the strikes but far enough away so that they glanced off. The jungle slowed him down. Seeing his ankle snag between branches the Englishwoman plucked out a knife and stabbed. Her attack was deflected, blades clanging. Alicia thrust it harder on the backstroke, nicking her assailant’s neck.

“Good to see you can bleed too,” she muttered.

He launched himself at her. They fell back among the fallen branches, foliage surrounding them. She grabbed his arms and felt the muscles tense. He drove the blade at her. She deflected it so that its point sank into the ground, then used her legs to scramble onto his back. Bringing everything she had to bear she put pressure onto the back of his skull, forcing his face into the same earth and readying her own blade once more. The final thrust went between his ribs and through his heart and the struggle was abruptly over.

Twice now, Drake found his textbook grip spoiled by slippery skin. Luckily, it was the same for both men, and the Asian had lost his knife among the trees. As they parted once more Drake saw a new party following a trail to their right. Alerting them to the struggle could end everything. He punched his opponent in the teeth, receiving split knuckles for his trouble, and then fell upon him. Yorgi and Kinimaka were long gone. Drake rolled as his opponent grabbed hold of his thick vest and pulled. The fist that then came at him missed as he turned his head, instead striking a tree. Drake slammed the palm of his hand into the man’s mouth to stifle the scream. Stunned, the Asian blinked twice.

And that ended it all. Drake finished it quick and then rolled off.

Dahl trotted to his side. “Took your time. Playing doctors were you?”

“Make sure you tie them up, and gag them.”

“No need.” Dahl shrugged.

Alicia crouched beside them. “Same here. My guy’s already spider food.”

“Give me a sec.” Drake used nearby twine to secure his unconscious opponent and then fashioned a gag. “If the animals don’t get him,” he said, “we’ll send someone when this is over.”

They bounded away, following the path taken by Yorgi through impossibly overhanging trees and a huddle of jagged rocks down which a waterfall rushed. The stream at its base gurgled happily. Another few meandering jungle bends and they saw the pastel green easily through the vegetation. Then they saw Yorgi and Kinimaka.

Half a dozen men stood facing them in a semi-circle with guns drawn and faces inwardly lit at the prospect of committing murder.

“Last chance,” one of them shouted. “Give us the prey or you die too.”

“Look guys,” Kinimaka rumbled. “It’s a fair hunt. We found him first. Come on.”

“So give us his head.” One of the men laughed. “You keep the rest.”

Yorgi stood in front of the prisoner. “He is ours.”

“Have it your way.”

Drake gasped as the six men opened fire.