The Swords of Babylon

CHAPTER FOUR

Mano Kinimaka stood back and watched as the world went crazy around him. His heart went out to Hayden as she juggled Gates on the phone with Dahl firing questions on her other side, and tried to cope with Mai in her face, all at the same time. The small but deadly Japanese woman had been left in the road, face down, no injuries except those done to her deep sense of pride. The Russians had clearly been given a single mandate — to snatch Drake. They probably hadn’t even known who Mai was. They had clearly expected an easier time of it though, using tasers instead of guns to minimize the backlash. They had planned it well — even down to using a localized mini-EMP to kill Drake’s car engine, and long-range taser guns to stop a getaway.

But they hadn’t figured on the illustrious team of Drake and Mai. The Russians had lost twelve men in the attack. The rescue teams had missed them by minutes. As soon as Mai came round she identified the attackers as Russian and remembered the last comment she had heard before passing out, a threatening sentence whispered to Drake.

“Zanko sends you a message, ‘Little man, you will enjoy our prison food’.”

Kinimaka watched as Hayden, at Mai’s request, put Gates on speakerphone. The Secretary was assuring them he would clear a plane to fly through Russian airspace and land near Moscow. This despite the current cold relations over the Syrian problem, but then Gates would know the man in charge of the man in charge.

“I’ll talk to them,” Gates was saying. “And explain the situation. They remain extremely grateful to your team for taking out the Blood King. His organisation has all but vanished from the streets. And, as you know, there’s nothing like a past good deed to foster a future favor. Agent Jaye.” His voice rose commandingly over her next question. “Just get going.”

Kinimaka moved out of the corner and, conscious of his size, threaded a careful path through a disarray of tables and chairs and half-unpacked gear. His size was a constant sensitive point for him. It was why he had been in the corner to start with — there was more room and less chance of bumping into something he hadn’t seen. He was proud of his size; proud of his physique, but it could also be a nuisance.

“Big lad coming through,” he said. “Watch yer scrawny backs.”

He saw Hayden glance up as he walked past, stared at her and walked straight into Komodo. “Hey.”

“Put your tongue back in, Mano. Listen.” Komodo leaned in. “You and the boss lady seem awful close these days. You…?” He let it hang.

Kinimaka was fiercely loyal and would never divulge. “I don’t gossip about family, friends or girls, Trevor. You know that.”

“Hey, it’s jus’ Karin who’s asking, man. She’s English.” He whispered the last word as if that explained the gossip request. “Me, I don’t care.”

“Good.” Kinimaka strode past, finally reaching his gear. The team had raced quickly to their new HQ on Pennsylvania Avenue, oblivious to the bare rooms and barren walls, knowing only that they needed to get together, form a plan, and save Drake.

Dahl was doing the work of two. “If these are the same Russians that Drake and Romero pissed off, then we know they’re based in Moscow.” He packed his gear as he spoke rapidly to Mai and Hayden. “Can we be sure?”

“What other Russians has Matt pissed off lately?” Mai asked.

“The Blood King,” Dahl said pointedly, shaking his head.

“Bull. That was months ago. Plus, Kovalenko’s in jail. And you just heard — his organisation has vanished.”

“I heard,” Dahl assured her. “And that’s what worries me.”

“The message included the name Zanko,” Mai said softly. “That’s the name of the Russian they encountered in Moscow.”

“Right.” Dahl nodded. “Right. Then we need to find the jail. And we have a place to start looking.”

Kinimaka felt his cell vibrate. He fished the small device out of his pocket, wrists as usual stretching the material to breaking point. The screen flashed with a single name, Kono.

“Damn,” he whispered.

“Hope you ain’t thinking of texting,” Hayden’s voice whispered softly at his side. “With them big jumbo fingers you’d either break the phone or spell out one of those long Scandinavian names Dahl likes so much.”

“I’ve done that before,” Kinimaka admitted. “I was trying to text, cool. Came out as abdojaminn.”

Hayden laughed. “You gonna speak to her this time? Might be your last chance for a while, Mano.”

“Damn. How can you hate someone and love them so much at the same time?” Kinimaka slid the screen to answer. “Hi, Kono. How are you?”

“Okay, baby brother. Okay. Hey, I need—”

“You know something, Kono. That’s how you always start your calls. I need.”

“Sorry. But Mano, are you anywhere near me?”

“California? I’m in Washington D.C., so that’s a big no. Why?”

“You said to call if I needed help. Well, I always need help. I know that. I’m a fuck-up, Mano. I fucked it up for you and Mom and Dad. Sometimes — I even think someone’s following me.”

It had been his sister’s way of getting his attention when she needed it in the past, but had always been just a ruse to wangle money out of him.

Kinimaka was very conscious of the team speeding around him, urgency firing their every movement. “I have to go, Kono. I’ll call when I get back.”

She started to talk, but Kinimaka ended the call. He ignored Hayden’s look and glanced at Dahl.

The mad Swede was hefting his pack, anger and determination written across every solid inch of his features. Kinimaka almost pitied the enemy who would have to face that.

Dahl spoke. “Well, we managed almost two days off! Now let’s go and teach these bastards a lesson they’ll never forget.”

Kinimaka said, “I wonder how big this prison is.”

“Who cares?” Dahl muttered. “One thing’s for sure — it won’t be big enough to stop us.”

Hayden turned to the team. “Karin and Komodo will stay here and set up the new HQ. They’ll work the technology magic that we might need in the field. Now, let’s finish tooling up and go get our man back.”