The Lost City

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hawke, Reaper, Lexi, Scarlet and Luis jogged down the track in pursuit of Kruger, Corzo, Balta and the rebels. They were now running along the Miraflores Pier and heading toward the Rosa Nautica restaurant. Hawke could see dozens of passers-by moving quickly away from the men as they dragged the old professor down the pier at knifepoint, but there were no police in sight. Only they could save Balta now.

“Come on!” Hawke yelled. “We’ve almost got them.”

They crossed the Circuito de Playas and hit the pier, sprinting as fast as they could toward the Rosa Nautica. “There they are!”

Inside the restaurant was a picture of serene calm as diners chinked glasses of wine and enjoyed their meals, but then Joe Hawke arrived and things changed rapidly.

Kruger and Corzo were making their way toward the kitchen door when they saw the ECHO team, and their response was to pull their guns and fire into the ceiling. The customers created instantly in a burst of screams and panic. Some dived under tables while others bolted for the door.

Hawke ran toward the kitchen but Carlos Corzo appeared from behind a support pillar and surprised him with a straight-forward shovel hook.

Hawke stumbled back into a table directly behind and tipped it up, spraying lobster and salad all over the place. The shell from the cracked claws rained down on the head of a woman who was hiding behind a tropical fish tank and she screamed inconsolably as it stuck to her hair and fell down her neck.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Hawke said. “I’m sure the management could probably refund your dinner, at a pinch.”

Scarlet shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Pay for it yourself and stop being shellfish.”

“Very good,” Hawke said, but the rest of his reply was cut short when Corzo grabbed him around the collar and yanked him away from the detritus of the collapsed table. The Englishman staggered to his feet and planted a hefty smack on his jaw. He went back and gouged his back against the corner of a table.

Across the restaurant, Dirk Kruger was walking backward toward the kitchen door while letting rip with an Uzi in his other hand. He sprayed bullets wildly but they all missed their mark. Amateur, Hawke thought. The bullets hit a fire extinguisher and suddenly the room was filled with a thick cloud of CO2. Customers piled all over the place like startled antelopes, but Hawke’s eyes were on the job.

Kruger raked another line of fire over the busy room, and screamed at Hawke to back off. Reaper leaped forward and punched Kruger from the side, knocking him back through another of the tropical fish tanks and sending him sliding about in the water on the floor. The South African was dazed for a few moments before getting back to his feet and snatching his bag up.

He grabbed his gun and raked the chaotic restaurant with more bullets before darting away into the cloud of CO2. The ECHO team dived to the floor and Hawke’s mind raced to keep control of the situation. Between the CO2, the gunfire and the dust from the blasted ceiling tiles, the restaurant had become a House of Horrors. He heard Kruger yelling in Afrikaans from the kitchens — presumably trying to locate Corzo.

The Colombian scrambled to his feet and grabbed Balta. Snatching a knife off one of the tables, he held it to the professor’s throat. “Step back or he dies. Dies!” He pushed the knife into the terrified man’s throat. It was only a butter knife, but Hawke knew it would easily go through the skin with the sort of effort Corzo was prepared to supply and then Balta was a dead man.

Hawke took a step back and raised his hands to show he was backing off, and Corzo started to drag Balta back toward the kitchen door where they joined Kruger and disappeared.

Hawke and the others sprinted across the restaurant and into the kitchens where they found themselves looking at several terrified chefs who were hiding behind the industrial ovens. One of them looked at Hawke and raised a trembling hand to point at a swinging door on the far side of the large room.

They ran to it and sprinted down a corridor. At the end was the fire exit Kruger and Corzo had used to take Balta and flee the restaurant. They scrambled through it and found themselves outside on the pier.

The merciless Peruvian sun pitched down on him and he raised his hand to shield his eyes but when they had adjusted he realized too late what Kruger’s plan had been.

Jawad was racing across the water on a motorboat from further up the coast. He pulled up alongside the pier and after forcing Balta into the boat, Kruger and Corzo jumped down into it behind him.

Kruger gave Hawke a cheery wave as Jawad turned the boat to starboard and opened the throttles. Moments later they were a kilometre up the coast.

Hawke felt the rage rise. He padded up the pier and tried to slow his breathing. “Damn it! They got Balta!”

Reaper cleared his throat. “Yes, but we got the mask.”

“Eh?”

“I got it when I punched Kruger through the fish tank. He was too shaken up to check his little bag when he took off.”

“That’s great, Reap,” Hawke said, but still angry. “But if he has Balta then he doesn’t need the mask.”

Ryan yanked at the table. It was bolted down but when he started booting it the bolts started to loosen. “By the way,” he said, planting another kick on the table. “I’ve decided to pack all this shit in.”

“What shit?”

“The aforementioned ECHO shit. I’ve had enough.”

“You can’t do that, Ry. What else have you got? Think it through.”

He smashed the table with his boot and this time it came away. “Just watch me.”

He lifted the table over to the door and began using it as a battering ram to smash at the door. The first ramming didn’t leave a mark.

“At first I was sceptical, especially about Joe, but then I started to enjoy it.”

“So? What’s the problem then?”

“The problem is that after I lost Sophie I nearly quit, and now Maria is gone there’s nothing for me here anymore. I want time alone and then a new life. Not this anymore… All the jetting about and getting shot at. I don’t want it.”

He rammed the door a second time and buckled it out in the frame. “Thank god for that,” he said, wiping some sweat from his eyes. “This place is like an oven and when the flames reach the cooking gas we’ll be the first people on the moon since 1972.”

Another smash and the sound of metal bending. Something inside the lock pinged and the door began to give way.

“At least talk to everyone else about it when we get back to Elysium.”

He looked at her. “And what’s waiting for me there, except Maria’s grave?”

She had no words.

The door popped open and flames instantly licked their way all around the frame and began to climb inside the trailer. “Shield yourself!” he said, taking hold of her arm. “We’re outta here.”

“Wait a minute,” Lea said, horrified.

Ryan looked at her. “What is it?”

“Rajavi’s disconnecting the sodding trailer!”

Outside Rajavi had now opened the rear tailgate completely and was disconnecting the trailer from the Wrangler.

“We’re going over that cliff in about ten seconds,’ Lea said. “It’s now or never!”

They leaped out the trailer just as it careered over the cliff and a heartbeat later it exploded in a savage fireball, blasting an enormous cloud of detritus and debris all over the road and cliff.

“Janey Bloody Mac!” Lea yelled as she tumbled over and came to a halt on the grass at the edge of the cliff.

Ryan came to a halt a few yards away and took a breath. “Turns out we’re not going to the moon just yet.”