The Seven Seals of Egypt

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Barely refreshed, the SPEAR team sprawled across the gravelly floor, arms across their eyes or propped up sideways. They weren’t allowed to sit with their backs to the walls. Weren’t allowed more water or any kind of food. They weren’t allowed any kind of medication for their wounds. One of the guards explained they didn’t want to waste medicine on dead bodies. He was wholly serious when he said it.

“Thoughts?” Hayden asked in a low voice.

“Our only option is a mass attack,” Dahl said apprehensively. “We don’t know where Crouch is, or even if he’s alive. And there are simply zero odds that we will all make it out. Some of us will die.”

“Then I guess it’s better some than all,” Hayden said. “The alternative is grim.”

“Grim is our thing,” Alicia said. “We’ve been in worse holes.”

“Have we? When?”

“Umm… when we fought cannibals? Dmitry Kovalenko’s attack on DC. That last man standing bollocks. Every time Kinimaka walks past something or Mai returns from a trip to Japan.”

Even Mai smiled, if only slightly. “My personal problems have ended now.”

“Oh yeah?” Kinimaka brooded. “That’s the feeling right before the worst begins. Don’t get too comfy.”

Hayden reached out to him. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Mano.”

“Ah…” the Hawaiian stammered and then clammed up, surprised. The rest of the team were startled too, but turned away so the pair could have a least a semblance of privacy.

“Don’t say anything,” Hayden said quietly. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll prove my sorrow and my worth and hope you can forgive me.”

Saint appeared at the top of the channel that ran from the cave system down into the bottom of the bowl. He brought a long, black whip with him and an enormous, frozen ice lolly, which he opened and started eating in front of them.

“How we all feeling? Refreshed?”

“So when are you jumping into the ring?” Alicia asked with interest.

Saint slurped at the lolly. “Whoa, this thing is juicy. Oh, darlin’, you don’t want that. You wouldn’t last two minutes.”

“Well, darlin’, I’d be sure happy to give it a try.”

“Hmm, well, let’s see how the afternoon goes. The masses are wandering back in. Time to perform, kids.”

Drake rose and the others followed suit, as much to prepare their aching bodies as anything. Lack of food and water would slow them enough. Nobody wanted to be caught out. Saint waited for the crowd to settle and then raised both hands.

“A nice spectacle to start the afternoon off,” he shouted. “It’ll be Mai Kitano versus Ronin the Samurai, and Mai Kitano versus the whip.” He lashed the dirt floor with the whip, sending up a cloud of dust.

Drake gritted his teeth, wishing the day was already over. Mai walked through the team to sounds of encouragement. Drake knew she was the best warrior they had, but that didn’t make her invincible. It only upped the stakes.

Saint smiled at Mai. “I think you’re gonna enjoy this.”

Mai Kitano waited patiently at the center of the arena, as calm on the inside as she appeared on the outside. It would do no good to get flustered. As she’d explained earlier, her life had become easier lately. Stiller. The personal issues were done with, the troubles all over and demons all met.

For that she was grateful. It was the main reason she had taken the step back with Drake. It was why she never challenged Alicia. Mai was content; she saw no reason to upset the good, serene fortune that had chosen to flow her way.

Now, Saint cracked the whip, the lashes landing in the dirt by her feet. It was a long, leather-handled thing with three thongs and Saint appeared to know how to use it. Of course, it would be the distraction.

Ronin came into sight. Wearing black robes, carrying a whip of his own. With long, black hair and Japanese features he was short and solid. He moved with grace, with purpose and paced toward her now.

Saint cracked the whip to get them started.

Drake found himself biting his lip until the blood flowed. Mai evaded three strikes of the whip, the weapon kissing the ground until clouds of dust whirled up. Ronin was too fast to directly assault; the whip always ready and the man constantly in motion. Drake watched hard, his eyes searing hatred at Mai’s opponent until Alicia’s cry made him whirl around.

“Michael!”

Crouch was dragged down into the arena and thrown among them. He was bloody, bruised and barely moving. Drake wasn’t even sure he was alive at first, until Dahl checked for the pulse and nodded. The guards that had brought him down parted.

Another figure revealed himself.

The team ignored him, concentrating on making Crouch comfortable. Alicia acted as a prop for his back and head. Drake tried patting his cheeks to bring him back to reality.

“Michael. It’s me. You okay, mate?”

“What did you do to him?” Hayden hissed, confronting the new figure.

“I questioned ridiculous English ponce,” a long, drawling Russian accent came back. “But he… he has balls? Yes? For now. Same as all of you.”

“I thought we were here only for revenge,” Hayden said. “Your guy Saint there said as much.”

“Revenge, amusement,” the Russian intoned. “Diversion. We are happy with down time before next phase begins.” He shrugged. “We get bored.”

He came among them without fear. “I am Vladimir.”

Drake ignored the figure, the words. He was staring between Crouch and Mai, alarmed for both. Mai had taken a whip-crack to the bicep, intent on catching the lash and reeling her opponent in, but Ronin had been a tad too quick for her. Another attack resulted in Saint striking at the same time, partially unbalancing her, enabling Ronin to land another strike across her back. Mai’s scar was already red, standing out angrily as the blood rushed through her body.

“I want to know what is the fourth symbol,” Vladimir said. “I want to know it now or I will kill one of you. I will crush you underfoot as my men guard your friends with orders to shoot if they move. I want it now!”

Drake looked up at Vladimir, about to explain to him his place in the world. Crouch’s eyelids fluttered open and he took a moment to study proceedings. “You are fighting for your lives now?” he muttered. “In a pit? God help us.”

“That’d do,” Dahl said. “We’re open to anything right now.”

Vladimir punched Smyth point blank in the face. Blood exploded from the soldier’s nose. Vladimir kicked him in the side of the head. Hayden and Kinimaka made to move but gun barrels swiveled toward them. A bullet kicked up dirt once more. Vladimir kicked out at Smyth again.

“Tell me. You can stop this. Tell me.”

Drake rose, ready to finish all this madness with one last all-out assault. Dahl read his mind and rose with him, the two shoulder to shoulder, head to head. Nobody could pick the time of their death, but right now, in this moment, they could pick who they decided to meet it with and how they went out.

“You stop that,” Drake said. “Right now.”

“You will tell me!”

“Yes,” Crouch finally said through a hacking cough. “We will tell you.” He caught Drake’s eye. “It makes no difference to us. And it will buy us time. Rest. Respite.”

Vladimir came over to him, a bull elephant charging through a pack and knocking everyone out of the way.

“Crouch, you are asshole. You do this now. I will make all deaths quick.”

The ex-British soldier nodded wearily. “Deal.”