The Last Bazaar

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Kenzie, battle-hardened, jaded, cynical and dangerous as she was, flinched when the gun went off. She recoiled even further when the bullet, traveling at 2500 feet per second, flashed across the side of her skull, leaving a blood trail in its wake. Kinimaka turned as Kenzie dropped the sword in shock and then stared, open-mouthed, at Alicia, nothing but a mixture of hatred and respect in her eyes.

“Fucking bitch. I’ll pay you back for that one day.”

Alicia shrugged. “But not today. Makes you look more appealing anyway.”

“It does?”

“A bit of character does a lot for a stupid face.”

Dahl moved in, but this time Kinimaka retained his wits and was already scooping up the long, single-edged sword. The Swede’s eyes were a little crazy as he took the shoulder-holster from Kenzie and then motioned toward Kinimaka.

“I’ll take the sword.”

Drake sighed. “Shit, you’re crazier than she is.”

Kenzie flicked a glance at them. “He is? I knew we shared something. Or perhaps we will do later.”

Drake laughed. “Now, don’t hurt my feelings, love. I guess you like ’em dumb, huh?”

Alicia glowered.

Kenzie almost smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Of course, Dahl hadn’t heard the conversation, so enamored was he of his new weapon. He made a show of sheathing the sword and then re-joined planet earth. “So? What’s next?”

“Back to camp.” Kinimaka rubbed his throat a little daintily. “It’s getting dark and the revels will have started already. Hayden will be hopping up and down.”

Drake eyed the jungle. “Let’s make it quick and cautious. I don’t think Ramses’ guards will venture so far away from camp, but they just might.”

“Unlikely,” Kenzie put in. “This area of the Amazon is a hive for the drug and gun running cartels. That’s why I chose the abandoned base. Honestly, it’s almost expected that there will be trouble around here.”

Alicia prodded her with the gun. “Honestly? From you? I think you need to take the soap outta your dirty mouth and start again.”

“Like I said — you’ll get yours.”

“Oh, I hope so.”

Drake made a point of taking charge of Kenzie, separating the two women. They vacated the boulder mound area and made their way back to Kenzie’s camp, where the bus still shouldered and tearing metal emitted screeching sounds. Past that, they returned to the vicinity of the bazaar and the place they had first entered the jungle.

Drake whispered in Kenzie’s ear. “Just so you know — we’d rather not do it right now but we intend to raze this place to the ground. Respect us and you live. Reveal us, and you’ll be the first to die. Are we clear?”

“As moonshine,” Kenzie muttered.

Drake thought that was probably an affirmative and pushed her forward. Together, the team emerged from the foliage, glancing surreptitiously at the guards who picked up on them. Yorgi, remaining in the background until now, immediately emerged at the head of the group and brushed himself down.

“Spot of fun,” he said, his accent seeming strange when forced, but receiving little attention from the guards. Drake reasoned their directive was no doubt to stop and prevent any trouble inside the bazaar. What happened beyond its confines was up to the guests themselves.

“Go,” he muttered to the Russian. “Back to the tent. A little regroup first and a chat to Hayden. Make sure nothing’s happened and then back to it.”

As if with perfect timing, the rain began to fall.

If Drake had thought the tent a little cramped before, the addition of Kenzie and her ego practically filled it. Though a prisoner, the woman acted as if in charge. Drake listened to Kinimaka making his quick call to Hayden, heard the expected insistences, and then watched darkness fall through a slit in the front of the tent. It took a long time for the rain to stop, and when it did the bazaar’s entertainments had become muted. Dahl and Alicia took a walk and returned fifteen minutes later with glum looks on their faces.

“No go,” Alicia said. “Everyone’s hunkered down for the night. Guess even hardened terrorists don’t like to get wet.”

Dahl nodded along. “The few specimens who are out barely warrant a second glance. I remember one of them from my days with the Swedish Special Forces. Elusive old boy; looks a thousand years old now.”

“I had to drag ole Torsty away,” Alicia said with a frown. “Almost blew our cover.”

Kenzie eyed the Swede. “Now I am jealous.”

Drake ignored the antiquities smuggler though watched carefully as she began to pace. “We stay on mission,” he said. “No exceptions.”

Alicia glared at Kenzie. “Can I gag her?”

“Not without a hell of a fight,” Kenzie shot back. “But Torsty can, just for fun.”

Drake rose, hands out, feeling a little like a parent trying to calm squabbling kids. “Tomorrow is our last day. Let’s grab a little rest. Doing this thing in daylight will only make it more dangerous, but we can’t go creeping around every single tent at night. One way or another, tomorrow, there’ll be a hell of a fight.”

The mood turned somber, the pitch of conversation quieter. Drake plonked himself down beside Alicia and Dahl at the front of the tent, peeling back one half of the flap and staring into the black, seeping jungle, counting down the hours. They talked quietly, murmuring of their exploits, their past and their better times together. After a while, as moonshine appeared over the heights of the trees, Kenzie crawled over to join them.

“I’ve been listening to you guys,” she said quietly. “You’re real heroes, huh?”

“Nope,” Drake said shortly. “Just soldiers doing our jobs.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dahl said. “I’ve been more than heroic on several occasions.”

“I was heroic once,” Kenzie said unexpectedly, staring straight ahead. “An agent with Mossad. We took people like this—” she waved a hand outside. “Down every day. And every day more rose. What is it they say? Kill one of us and a thousand more shall arise? I don’t know… but it is true.”

“So you became dispirited?” Dahl asked.

“No,” Kenzie said quietly. “I became a victim.”

They fell silent for a time, and then Kenzie shuffled a few inches closer. “One time I stopped a firebomb attack from two thousand meters.” She clicked her tongue. “Two shots. Two kills.”

Drake wanted to believe her. “I killed Dmitry Kovalenko, the Blood King, up close. Put an end to his savagery.”

“I think you’ll find that was me,” Alicia said.

“Nah, you put down the guy in the bullet-proof kill-suit. With a knife.”

“True. I did both.”

“Another time,” Kenzie said. “During a stakeout, the cell we had under surveillance received a tip-off. They torched the entire floor of the apartment block to escape, but we caught them and pulled everyone to safety. No casualties that night.”

Dahl sighed. “Well, where do I start? Odin? North Korea? Earlier—”

“You defeated Odin?” Drake blustered. “Wow.”

Kenzie allowed a small smile. “I never had what you have. The companionship. My team was never that. We were always for ourselves and so were our superiors.” She shook her head sadly.

“Truth be told,” Drake said, also despondently. “It’s much the same everywhere. Our team? It’s different, but it works.”

“But you have lost people along the way?”

Drake nodded but said nothing.

Kenzie massaged her forehead as if to wipe away memories. “I lost everything. We were in the field, isolated, dependent upon our satellite office. Our superiors were sat on their fat behinds in Tel Aviv, feeding the bullshit that they wanted us to believe. My team were caught without hope; we were exposed, identified, our families laid bare.” Kenzie paused, swallowed and then went on. “They were slaughtered as our superiors rubbed their hands and accepted bribes. And then we were allowed to live as punishment, as warnings to others that law enforcement didn’t work.”

“You took your revenge?” Dahl asked, his eyes far away.

“Of course. Every one of them saw my face covered in their jetting blood before they died. And now I am a fugitive, a criminal, a terrorist,” she spat.

Alicia cleared her throat. “All that withstanding, you do smuggle artifacts, guns and drugs.”

“It is safer than being a Mossad agent.”

“So you are a criminal.”

“A girl’s gotta eat.” Kenzie jerked her head up, as if shaking off a terrible, old nightmare and fixed on Dahl. “Speaking of which…”

“He’s married,” Drake said.

“Oh. How about you?”

“I’m… umm… I’m—”

Alicia laid a hand on his arm. “He’s under offer, and you can’t match the highest bid, bitch.”

“Uww, snappy, snappy. And you said I had a dirty mouth.”

“I could match you for insults any day.”

“Really? Then let’s—”

“All right.” Dahl stepped in quickly. “Playtime’s over. We all need a little rest before it starts to get light.”

Kenzie looked away. “The last time I slept properly I was in my twenties.”

Drake made a motion to include the entire tent. “You won’t need to keep one eye open here, I guarantee it.”

“That’s not really the problem.”

“Yeah,” Drake agreed quietly. “I know.”