The Secret of Atlantis

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Deep in the substructure on the far side of the platform, Reaper, Lexi, Maria and Ryan were in hot pursuit of Dirk Kruger, Korać, Luk and Kamchatka. The former legionnaire’s eyes were peeled as they moved stealthily through the forest of support struts and pipes. Somewhere down here in this industrial jungle were four of the most dangerous men he had ever met, and now they were cornered animals, trapped on a maniac’s secret ocean base with no chance of escape except a violent and bloody shootout.

“It’s four on four,” Reaper said. “They’re ours for the taking.”

And then he saw them — quick as a flash and then gone again. They had broken into two groups. The South African and the Serb had gone to the north while Mr Luk and Kamchatka had made tracks to the south.

“We need to split up,” he said. “I’ll take Ryan and go after Kruger and Korać. Maria — you go after Luk and Kamchatka.” He turned to Lexi. “I need you to get ready to blow up that refinery.”

“Got it,” Lexi said with a cold smile.

“Move out!” Reaper said,

The Frenchman led Ryan through a cloud of steam emanating from a cooling duct and noticed the young man was sticking close by. To their right he heard one of the men they were hunting slip on something and curse as he stopped himself from falling over.

Reaper yelled at Ryan to get down and the next second he was unloading his mag at the targets. Korać was faster than Kruger, but they were soon tucked down behind one of the support struts and returning fire.

“They’re looking for a way out of here,” Reaper said, dodging a bullet. “And they’re putting their money on a boat moored down in the docking bay.”

More bullets traced around them and Reaper saw Korać was now covering for Kruger as he was trying to descend the scaffold toward the marina below them. “It’s now or never, Ryan!”

Maria Kurikova moved stealthily along the perimeter gangway running around the western edge of the Seastead as she moved south in her pursuit of Luk and Kamchatka. Her face was as cold steel as she moved through the sea spray, gun in her hand. The Russian hitman Kamchatka had tried to kill Lexi in Berlin and by the look on her face this was payback time.

Then she saw something and turned.

Without aiming, Kamchatka fired on her from the hip. The muzzle flash produced a cloud of gunsmoke, and then Maria took cover behind the scaffolding.

Luk and Kamchatka now retreated further into the shadows, keeping up a barrage of fire to hold the ECHO member back, but Maria Kurikova was having none of it.

She powered forward with her gun in her hand, keeping low to avoid the bullets tracing overhead, and took cover behind a stack of crates covered in some plastic tarp. More bullets raced overhead, and she knew she had only one magazine to take both of them out. She made a silent prayer and resumed the pursuit.

Korać was now crouch-walking backwards using the cowling of an elevator motor for cover. Kruger was further down and on the marina now, making his way to a boat moored on one of the jetties. Thanks to Hawke opening the bidirectional tidal gate all of the boats were now getting smashed about by the sea and the South African was having a hard time finding one that was still seaworthy, never mind trying to get on board one of them.

Reaper fired on Korać, but missed. The Serbian commander was as hard-nosed and battle-worn as they came, and barely flinched as the bullet ricocheted off a steel girder a few inches from his head. With a Heckler & Koch MP7 gripped firmly in his hands he spat fire right back at Reaper and Ryan, keeping the bursts short and professional.

“Reap!” Ryan yelled. “Head’s up on Kruger in the marina — he’s getting on a boat!”

Reaper looked through a gap in the platform and saw the South African clambering up onto the bow of a large powerboat rocking violently back and forth on the furthest jetty. The plan was obviously to drive the thing right out of the tidal gate and worry about its range later when he was free of the danger on the Seastead.

Korać had also heard Ryan’s scream, and turned to see his benefactor deserting him. Reaper didn’t need an invitation to take advantage of a mistake like that and took the shot.

He was wide, striking the Serbian in the shoulder and knocking him back to his left. He grunted in pain but there was no scream. He began to move back and flipped over on his stomach to belly crawl his way to the powerboat. “Dirk! Wait for me!”

Kruger ignored him, and began to steer the boat along the marina in the direction of the gates.

Korać cursed him and fired a burst of shots at the boat, but realising he had limited rounds and that killing the enemy was more important than taking Kruger out, he turned the gun back on Reaper and Ryan.

Reaper returned fire and sent the Serb scuttling back into the shadows again, and then glanced at Kruger below. “Bon sang! He’s getting away!”

“No he damn well isn’t!” Ryan said, and leaped from the platform.

Reaper was in shock as he watched the young man plummeting through the air toward the water below, but he had timed it perfectly and landed with a heavy smack on the bow of the powerboat.

“Ryan!” Reaper yelled. “What the hell are you doing?”

But Ryan couldn’t hear, and all the Frenchman could do was watch as the young man made his way from the bow to the bridge. A moment later he was fighting with Dirk Kruger, hand to hand on the starboard bow while the boat moved through the water with no one at the controls.

Reaper’s focus was brought back by a bullet whistling an inch past his nose. He threw himself down to avoid the next bullet and give himself time to reload his gun. As he smacked the magazine into the grip he heard more rapid firing and pulled himself up to look through a crack to see Korać having one last shot at the man who had betrayed him and left him for dead.

Below, Dirk Kruger and Ryan Bale were now fighting on the stern of the boat, but their struggle was interrupted by the sound of the gunfire aimed at them. They both looked up and saw the Serb pouring fire down on them. Ryan moved first, and went to dive off the boat. Kruger hesitated for a second before following him in an attempt to escape the savage fire of the submachine gun, but then it happened.

And Reaper saw it first.

Korać wasn't aiming for the fighting men but for the gas tank.

And he hit it before either man had abandoned the powerboat.

Reaper yelled. “Non!” but it was too late. The bullets tore into the gas tank and ignited the fuel and a split second later the entire boat was a vicious fireball engulfing both men. Reaper could hardly believe what he had just seen and screamed with rage as the acrid black smoke of the burning wreckage reached his nostrils.

His eyes hurriedly scanned the surface of the water for survivors but there was nothing except fire and smoke. He yelled and spun around, bringing his gun into the aim with Dragan Korać’s stubble-covered face bang-smack in the center of his sights.

The Serb smirked and raised the HK at him, squeezing the trigger, barely able to conceal his delight at the thought of filling the Frenchman full of lead, but instead he got nothing more than the hollow click of dry-firing and realized he had used his ammo destroying the powerboat.

“Please!” he pleaded, dropping the submachine gun and raising his hands.

“A mercenary never begs for his life,” Reaper said. “Only for a quick death.”

And with that he emptied his magazine into the Serbian’s chest, blasting him back into a dead heap that tumbled down the steel steps behind him and landed with a bloody crunch on the marina.

Reaper looked down with disgust as a wave reached up and heaved Korać ’s corpse back into the freezing brine of the sea.

But there was no satisfaction, only the terrible empty feeling of irretrievable loss as he thought about Ryan.