The Swords of Babylon

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Drake grabbed hold of a restraint strap with his left hand, and pushed Yorgi firmly back into his seat with the other. He saw Hayden fighting the collective, Kinimaka leaning across to help by adding his own strength, as the sky flicked around and around like a crazy kaleidoscope.

“Ow!” Drake smashed his head against the bulkhead. Aware that the ground was rushing up, he held on even tighter and yelled, “Where’s the spare guns, for fuck’s sake!”

The chopper slammed down hard, the sickening crunch of its buckling skids giving them a millisecond to prepare before the belly of the machine struck concrete. The impact sent Alicia tumbling, smashing her head against a seat back. Mai and Dahl held on, but crashed into each other. Drake protected Yorgi with a grip like a band of steel.

As the chopper came to rest, Hayden immediately unbuckled and climbed out of her seat. “Hurry!” Both she and Kinimaka took up weapons and opened the cockpit doors, quickly establishing positions as guards came running forward.

Alicia groaned as blood seeped from her scalp down her forehead. Drake crouched beside her. “Can you focus? Can I borrow your gun?”

“Piss off!”

Dahl threw open the side door, reaching into a lockbox as he did so. “Spare weapons and mags in there, Drake. Help yourself. You might want to arm your new friend, too.”

The Swede jumped down, followed by Mai. Drake delved into the lockbox. Alicia jumped out the other side, backing up Hayden. Guards ran at them from the entrance of the prison building, using the cover provided by several sheds and vehicles along the way. Prisoners had crossed over the breach in the wall by now and were again massing for a charge.

“We don’t have much time!” Hayden yelled. “Anyone got a plan?”

Dahl shouted above the din. “This way!”

Drake picked an M4 assault rifle, slightly out of date perhaps, but a great weapon, and handed Yorgi a SIG Pro semi-automatic pistol. “Make sure it’s loaded and grab some spare ammo.” Drake readied himself at the door, prepping the M4.

“Ready?”

Yorgi nodded.

Drake jumped, landing a foot behind Dahl. Bullets fizzed all around the stranded chopper, even skimming off the concrete and the tiny spaces underneath the machine. Yorgi landed awkwardly and Drake steadied the man before he tripped headlong. Mai sent sporadic bursts at the walls over the prisoner’s heads, shattering the concrete and showering them with hard shards. Dahl made sure they all saw where he was pointing.

“There.”

He took off, staying low. Drake quickly searched the inmate crowd for signs of Zanko or Razin, but saw nothing. He waited as Mai slipped past him and he saw Hayden, Kinimaka and Alicia running their way. He turned and followed the mad Swede, making a bee-line for a big, green Ukrainian built KrAZ truck. The behemoth was a six wheeler, with an open back partly covered with a tarpaulin that strapped into hooks situated all along the truck’s high, steel sides.

Perfect for deflecting bullets.

Dahl clambered up into the high cab, whooping with delight when he found that the truck was already idling. Drake reasoned that his team’s helicopter arrival had interrupted some kind of delivery and the driver was long gone.

The team climbed aboard, two in the cab and the rest in the truck bed, sitting with their backs against the solid sides. Dahl pumped the accelerator and shifted gears, wincing as the mechanism made a deep, angry grinding sound.

Alicia sat beside him. “It ain’t your wife, Dahl. You can’t smooch the damn thing into submission. Give it some fuckin’ wellie.”

Dahl rammed the gear lever home and stepped on the pedals. The truck roared and lurched forward. Diesel smoke belched from the exhausts. Bullets pinged and bounced off the sides as the guards rounded the stranded chopper. Dahl trod on the accelerator and turned the wheel, aiming for the prison gates.

He slammed the back panel. “Gatehouse!”

A trio of guards already stood outside, aiming their weapons as the truck roared toward them. Mai and Drake stood up in the back and let loose on full auto. Two of the guards twisted and fell, the third ran like a spooked rabbit. When the truck slowed, Drake jumped to the ground and ran, using the enormous wheels as shelter, before smashing his way into the gatehouse where he searched a wall-mounted, gray console. The commands were written in Russian, but there were only two significant buttons. One red, the other green.

He hit the green one, heard the satisfying crunch and saw movement as the gates swung inward, and climbed back into the truck as it began to pick up speed. As he paused atop the sides he cursed. “Bastards are chasing us.”

The heavy truck rumbled and roared as it bounced and crashed its way through the prison gates and on to a rough-and-ready road. Dahl fought the wheel at every turn. Alicia checked the side mirrors to gauge the pursuit.

“Three trucks, a little Land Rover type thing and a kind of mini-pickup. Drake would probably know the makes, models and street value.” She smiled tightly.

Dahl was wracking his memory. “You remember the map? If we branch off up the road ahead we come to Zalinsk — the empty town?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Dahl swung the wheel hard when the turn came up, sending the truck jouncing along an even bumpier road and his teammates sprawling across the truck’s bed. Through the subsequent yelling, Dahl uttered the quiet words, “Apologies people.”

They crested a muddy rise. The town of Zalinsk lay in a shallow depression, nothing more than an unsystematic jumble of buildings, many now open to the elements as the place had been abandoned for so long. With the pursuing vehicles only a half mile behind, Dahl set off down the slope only a little faster than was safe. When the truck hit the bottom he aimed it at the middle of two of the nearest buildings and hauled on the brakes when it had effectively blocked the road.

“Pile out!”

Dahl hit the dirt first, Alicia a step behind. Drake scaled the truck’s sides and flipped himself over the top, then waited for Yorgi. Mai landed deftly beside him.

“Who is your new friend, Matt?”

“Prisoner. Thief. Informer. Entrepreneur. It’s good to see you, Mai.”

“It will get even better when we reach civilization.” Mai smiled demurely, then raced off through the open door of a nearby building, heading for the roof. The pursuing convoy was already thundering down the slope, some of the guards taking hopeless potshots. Drake followed Mai as Hayden and Kinimaka aimed for a nearby structure, the big man as usual ensuring he was the screen between his boss and the line of fire. Drake thought that Hayden was so used to his routine, she barely noticed it anymore.

Gunfire cracked from the rooftop. Drake saw the lead truck’s windshield shatter and had an idea. “Yorgi, wait behind me.” He pointed.

Sinking to his knees, he took aim with the sturdy M4. The sights lined up and he squeezed off a flurry of bullets. The lead truck lurched and swerved as the driver-side tire exploded, veering off the road and bouncing rapidly down a sharp hill. Drake imagined the men being flung around inside the truck bed much more vigorously than he had been, and saluted with the rifle when he saw two of them thrown so high they were tossed over the side.

His teammates all opened fire. The second two vehicles ground to a halt, their occupants scrambling out and either finding cover or rushing around the back. Drake stayed where he was for the moment.

Then four guards poked their heads into sight. One exploded instantly, a splash of red being the only testament that he’d been there at all. The other three leveled rocket launchers.

Drake ducked and threw himself into the dirt as missiles flew at them.