The Lost Kingdom

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

Hayden fought for her life and for the lives of her family.

Five Yakuza warriors jumped down, one hitting Komodo hard, another striking Smyth a full blow in the face, the momentum added by the long drop staggering the snappish soldier, sending him to his knees. Hikaru landed close to Mai, grinning at her pain. Hayden ran to help her. Yorgi was already sprinting away from them but pulled up with a skid, quickly seeing their predicament.

Hikaru had found a heavy piece of rock, its edges jagged and hard, and now held it above the kneeling, groaning Mai. Hayden could see the blood seeping from her recent wound and how she held it, eyes shut tight in agony.

“This is how it ends for you, Mai Kitano,” Hikaru said with something like relief on his face. “You kill us, we kill you. The Yakuza will be avenged.”

Hayden put everything she had into a last lunge, a headlong dive, grabbing his waist and forcing him off his feet. Together they slid a few feet and the rock rolled away. Then Hikaru was up, quicker than her, striking down at her exposed face with lightning fast hands. A sharp kick to the ribs knocked her off balance.

And suddenly he was past her, scooping up the rock again and approaching Mai from behind. Yorgi arrived and hit out at Eto. Kinimaka struggled with Tanji, the smaller man dealing out painful hits and moving faster than the big man. Smyth tried to rise, still dazed from the crushing blow.

The Yakuza’s star was rising, reaching its absolute zenith.

And the SPEAR team’s world, their family, would never be the same.

With Drake, Alicia and Dahl long gone, Hayden knew there were no miracle rescues about to happen. She made a despairing lunge for Hikaru, fingertips tapping his shoes but barely touching him. Her fleeting gaze saw Smyth go down again, battered by the powerful Sakurai who also held a weapon — a piece of sharp, copper tubing.

Mai managed to turn her face upward, features distorted in pain, the midnight-black dress falling around her like Death’s harbinger. For so long now she had been haunted by her actions.

“End it, Hikaru. Just do it.”

The Japanese woman sat in agony, her life flashing before her; all the hopes and dreams and small regrets coming back.

Finally it all made sense.

I shouldn’t be living in a world of suffering and guilt. I made my choice that day. The only people I hurt by not moving on are the very people I love.

The rock came down hard, bone-crushingly hard. Mai found her will, and at the last moment tried to move, but the reopened bullet wound sent debilitating waves of pain crashing through her.

Hayden screamed, again reaching for Hikaru’s feet.

Mai saw the rock, its huge jagged edges and unyielding surface. She saw Hikaru’s face, a mask of bloodlust and hatred and triumph. She waited to die.

Someone else came between them. A large bulky figure. The rock struck him instead, full in the face, sending him lifelessly down to the floor. Mai froze in horror. Hikaru screamed as he was thwarted once more and fell atop the fallen figure, smashing the rock again and again into the man’s skull, making sure that he was dead.

Hayden was screaming too as she scrambled up, taking Hikaru’s legs from under him. The Yakuza boss landed an inch from Mai, his face suddenly scared.

Without a moment’s hesitation she elbowed him in the throat, jabbed at his eyes, his throat again, and then his ribs until his larynx was totally unprotected.

Then she crushed it.

Hikaru died before her, choking. Mai didn’t have the will or strength to watch. Instead she looked to the fallen figure, to Hayden’s grief-stricken, wide-eyed face, to Yorgi who stopped fighting with his opponent; both men taking a step back.

To Sakurai and Eto and Tanji — the only remaining Yakuza warriors, who became suddenly inert. Affected by the death of their boss, they now bowed slightly toward Mai.

Hayden grabbed the fallen man, took hold of his big shoulders, and rolled him over, instantly knowing he was already dead.

Karin’s screams filled her ears. “Komodo! Komodo! T-vor. Is he okay? Oh, no. Please no! Pleeeeeaase—”

A heavy silence descended over the alley, broken only by the sound of Karin’s sobbing and Hayden’s choked, emotion-filled tones. “I… I’m sorry. I—”

Kinimaka came over and held her, falling to his knees beside the lost soldier, tears streaming from his own eyes. In the gentlest gesture Hayden had even seen the big Hawaiian make, he leaned over and hugged his friend for the final time. Smyth too dropped beside Komodo, resting a shaking hand against the man’s head and holding it there.

Mai staggered to her feet, hand across her wound, blood dripping through her fingers. “We should kill all of you murdering bastards.”

Sakurai didn’t move a muscle. “We’re all warriors here. Believe me, we have earned our place.”

Mai did not doubt it. “We’re not trying to avenge a mere insult any more. We’re trying to prevent a disaster from which even the Yakuza would be affected.”

“I have orders from my Kumicho. This death,” he indicated the fallen soldier, “cannot be altered and neither can the deaths of our fellow warriors. But it may be enough.”

“Enough? Is it? You mean if we let you walk away?”

Sakurai looked to his fellow combatants. “In war there is always death. Hikaru is gone, but we have been avenged. We will not keep fighting without our leader. On my honor I will take this to the Kumicho. It may be enough.”

Mai waved them away, thankful that Karin hadn’t been able to hear their words. Unable to remain upright any longer, she too fell in the dirt and the dust, sitting alongside Komodo’s body with her friends; guardians, sentinels to the memory of their lost companion; protecting him in death where they had not been able to do so in life.

Karin Blake threw the comms device across the room, standing, fists clenching, fighting every instinct in her body that made her want to destroy and crush and even kill. She pounded her fists on the table, struck the concrete wall until bloody imprints remained. The monitor before her never changed — stuck with an image she would never, ever forget.

The site of her fallen, unmoving boyfriend and the team sat around him, heads down, hands touching, custodians in shared loss.

Chika sat rigid, unable to process the death. Only Grace could console Karin and the young girl crept over now, crying herself, encircling Karin’s body with caring arms and hugging her close.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m just so sorry.”

All Karin could do was hold on.