The Swords of Babylon

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Drake shielded his eyes as the rockets exploded. Sheets of flame burst upwards and outwards, detonating like a fire bomb. He saw the entire building to his right literally sag as walls were blasted away — the same building Mai, Alicia and Dahl occupied. He could only watch as rock and stone cascaded down and the entire structure began to crumble.

“Look out!” The warning felt way too late.

Mai, lying in wait on the flat roof, had ducked behind the stone parapet when she saw the missiles swinging in. Their impact sent an ominous vibration through the structure beneath her, one she felt through her own body and understood immediately. At first there was only the groan of heavy foundations shifting, but then the entire roof area lurched and sagged. The front end slumped, bricks and mortar cascading away, crashing to the ground below. Mai scrambled backwards, catching the eyes of Dahl and Alicia.

The Englishwoman shook her head. “Building’s collapsing with us on top?” She sighed. “Must be Friday fuckin’ morning.”

Dahl rose and nodded at Mai. “You ready?”

“I know there’s only one way off this roof.”

The entire building dropped another inch, the front part of the roof falling away to leave a rough and ragged precipice. Dahl strapped his weapon over his shoulders, and Mai followed suit. As the roof sagged again, they saw the prison guards situated ahead of them jump into their vehicles and advance. When the collapse accelerated, Dahl roared and ran straight at the disintegrating edge. The whole building rumbled and shook. Cracks exploded across the roof’s surface. Mai ran at his heels, Alicia close by. The roar of adrenalin pumped like a thrash band in their ears. Their sprint suddenly turned into a downhill race as the top of the building sank even lower. A mushroom cloud of dust and smoke billowed ahead.

Dahl reached the edge and hurled himself into space, pushing off hard and using the still slightly elevated roofline to get extra lift. Mai leaped beside him, arms and legs still pumping, as the bulk of the building caved in behind them. The roar of shattering brick and rock hurt Mai’s ears. Her eyes sought the ground through the smoke, hoping they had jumped far enough to clear—

They landed hard, hitting grass a second before debris burst across it in a tumbling tidal wave of rubble. Mai felt her legs clipped by rock as she landed and rolled, her momentum keeping her ahead of the wave. Still, fragments of rock flew around her, compressed, then fired out by the rolling mass. At last they stopped; the clouds and the dreadful noise behind them, the onrushing vehicles before them.

Dahl, kneeling, legs covered by a mound of rubble, unstrapped his rifle and took aim. “Blow the bastards’ tires out.”

Drake told Yorgi to stay put and ran up to them. “Bloody hell! Are you lot okay?”

Bullets flew past his head, but fired from behind. Hayden and Kinimaka were still snug on their rooftop and following Dahl’s lead. Mai checked her body quickly, but saw no signs of blood. Nothing vital screamed at her. She joined the rest of the SPEAR team and took aim. Her first shot shattered a windscreen. The vehicle veered wildly, speeding closer. Her second shot took out the second vehicle’s front passenger tire. It swerved to the left and clipped the rear end of the first vehicle.

“Shit!”

The team scattered as the first vehicle tipped and crashed on to its roof, momentum sending it tumbling toward their position. Five tons of metal bounced past them, coming to rest amidst the ruins of the house. Dahl groaned. The rocks piled on his legs had slowed him up and the truck’s front bumper had come within an inch of his skull as it whipped past.

“I’ll finish ‘em.” Alicia scrambled after the battered vehicle.

Mai squeezed her trigger as men jumped from the second vehicle. One fell backwards, slamming hard against the bodywork before slumping lifelessly. Dahl uttered a satisfied grunt as he took out another. Then a third stepped around the hood, RPG cradled across his shoulder. As he pulled the trigger, Hayden or Kinimaka took his head off with a double-shot — the RPG aimed straight up as its operator fell — the grenade screamed high up into the air like a flare before falling down through a small arc and exploding against a rocky outcrop.

Mai heard more shots and much cursing as Alicia dispatched the guards still trapped in the second truck. That left only two remaining. “They’ll be radioing for help.”

Drake pulled a face. “I doubt they can have many more guards to send. They still have to run the jail.”

“I meant from other connections,” Mai explained carefully, making Drake feel a little foolish. “Razin clearly owns part of the Russian government.”

“If they did, they’d have told him you were coming to free me,” Drake said.

“They didn’t have enough time,” Dahl said with a wicked grin. “Hey, good to see you, ya bloody Yorkshire terrier.”

Drake took the proffered hand with a grin of his own. Alicia slapped him across the back of the head as she returned.

“How the hell did they snatch you in the first friggin’ place? Did you stop sleeping with a gun under your pillow?”

Drake thought back to the abduction. “It was our fault,” he admitted. “We got complacent.”

“Too much Mai-time?”

“Is that possible?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Alicia sniffed. “But you sure interrupted me at a delicate moment.”

“Delicate? You?”

“Well, if you must know, Lomas was just—”

Hayden ran up to them, Kinimaka a step behind. “We should go. Now.”

Mai indicated the truck slewed across the road ahead. “There are two still alive out there.”

“Makes no difference. If they return to the jail we’ve got ‘em off our backs. If they follow our asses we can ambush them. Main thing is — let’s get the truck outta here.” She pointed at the vehicle they had arrived in. “That truck.”

Kinimaka laughed. Alicia scowled at him. “Mano. What the hell have you done to her? Though clearly not English, she at least used to seem human.”

Within three hours they were installed inside one of the CIA’s Moscow-based safe houses. The last of the prison guards hadn’t bothered to follow them, leaving the rest of their getaway uneventful. Drake had asked that all questions be delayed until they were safe and could relax a little, so, after showering, eating and spending a few moments with Mai, the team gathered in various poses around the front room. Curtains were drawn against the dark and prying eyes. All exits were locked and watched over by a central CCTV system. Alarms were activated.

Kinimaka stood by the window. Through the gap between the material and the plaster wall, he had a good view of the street outside. The big man didn’t take any chances at safe houses. He still had nightmares about the one assaulted by Boudreau and the Blood King’s small army.

He listened as Drake described his first few hours of captivity. The Russians, Razin and Zanko, sounded like the type of men their team had been assembled to deal with. When Drake introduced Yorgi, Kinimaka studied the whip-like man with new eyes.

A thief. An escaped felon. A resourceful procurer of goods. A sly, clever man with secret agendas.

Alicia stated the obvious out loud. “So you helped Drake so he’d drag your sorry carcass outta there? What now?”

Yorgi bit hard into the burger he’d been handed, clearly savoring something other than prison fodder. “Now? I have not thought so far—”

“Balls,” Alicia said. “You thought very well.”

Yorgi shrugged. Drake stepped in. “Give the guy a chance. He has information we can use. Don’t forget, this was Razin’s prison, full of his men.”

Yorgi nodded, still chewing. “He owned the men, the guards, everything.”

Hayden spoke up, “We saw something of Razin’s research when we hit the timber yard. Ancient Babylon, the Tower of Babel, the Dance of the Seven Veils. Singen.” The last word was directed at Drake with some poignancy.

The Yorkshireman caught on. “Come again?”

“They found some kind of link between Singen and Babylon. And Babylon, translated, means Gateway of the Gods.”

“Razin did ask a shedload of questions about the third tomb,” Drake remembered. “It was pretty much all he was interested in.” He proceeded to relate everything Yorgi had told him about the seven swords, Razin’s proclamation that they would turn him into a world leader, how they were searching for them in the old ruins, and of the American professor who was helping them against his will.

“They’re holding this professor somewhere around Red Square,” Drake finished. “Though I do believe Yorgi sniffed out a little more before our departure?”

Yorgi stepped in, eager to help. “I did give up over half my stash for this. He’s on Tverskaya Street.”

Kinimaka felt a tendril of shock squirm in his stomach. The rest of the team looked understandably disturbed. “An American professor being held here?” Hayden nodded at the window. “In Moscow. Are you kidding?”

“Razin nabbed him when he blabbed too much about his bloody research,” Drake told her. “And Red Square’s twenty minutes away…”

“We need to prepare,” Hayden said. “Speak to Gates.”

Mai agreed. “Maybe we should get the Russians involved.”

Alicia laughed. “Little sprite, you losing your mind as well as your edge? They’ve been about as useful as an old Skoda so far.”

Mai shot the Englishwoman a hard look. Kinimaka knew what was behind that cloud. The ex-Japanese agent blamed herself for losing Drake. And something else was going on with her, an event that had ties to her hidden past, and Mai Kitano was clearly stressed.

They talked until the small hours, and when they were all about to retire for a few hours, Dahl’s cell phone rang.

The Swede eyed the screen uncertainly. “This is odd.”

Kinimaka watched him as he listened to the caller. The Hawaiian had been expecting a call of his own tonight, hoping for one from home and dreading one from California. The business with Kono was going to have to be resolved one day.

Now Dahl put his phone on the table and sat back, looking troubled. “That was Olle Akerman. You remember? My man in Iceland who’s translating the language of the gods? And my friend—” he added.

“What is it?” Hayden prompted.

“Well, he says he’ll explain all when he sees me. But something’s happening over at the Icelandic tomb. Three dead. One presumably missing. And…” Dahl paused, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Olle had to run for his life. He was being chased out of the tomb. By Russell Cayman.”

“Cayman?” Hayden echoed. “He’s back?”

“Something very nasty’s going on,” Drake said, glancing around the group. “Something that involves the tombs, these swords, Cayman, and God knows what else. And we need to get up to speed before it’s too late.”

Dahl jumped to his feet. “And that’s why I’m heading to Iceland,” he said. “On the next flight out.”