Weapons of the Gods

CHAPTER FORTY

Hayden was feeling lightheaded, and not from the swift flight. Events had spiraled into a fast-moving reel of incredible incident, starting with them arriving back in DC and being shoved into a matte-black, frighteningly quick saloon car. Washington DC was shuddering in silence, it seemed; the city moving along as normal but with an underlying sense of intense fear and violence. Only those few in the know had an idea of what was truly happening, but their uncertainties and their phone calls and their warnings soon escalated around the city.

Hayden recalled being taken from the blacked-out landing strip straight to a private hospital. There they met Lauren and took a precious few minutes to express their joy at seeing her.

Smyth had been beside himself. He ran in, despite all their recent differences, taking her weight from the bed and hugging her close. Hayden had pretended not to see the tears in his eyes and the big smile on Lauren’s face.

“Thank you,” Hayden said. “Thank you, thank you, for everything.”

“Been a long time since Transylvania,” Kinimaka said. “You knew better than we did, girl.”

Lauren grinned, crushed by Smyth, but not unhappy about it. “I got there in the end, didn’t I?”

“Damn right you did,” Hayden said. “Coburn, and we, owe our lives to you. How’s the arm?”

“It’ll be fine,” Lauren said. “Eventually.”

Hayden saw the tiredness in Lauren’s face, the utter exhaustion, and reflected over what she’d been through during the last few weeks. Constant pressure, constant fear, twenty-four-seven.

“Look,” she said. “We’ll continue this when Tempest are busted. Right now, we gotta move.”

Minutes later they had been speeding again in their unmarked car, leaving Lauren behind and discussing a plan with Coburn and his trusted advisors that would end this thing. Coburn had been hustled to safety after speaking to Lauren at the press conference, thwarting Tempest’s plan by but a few hours.

“You know where they meet?” Coburn asked.

“We do.” Hayden hadn’t wanted to reveal it to anyone but the President. There were no second chances tonight. “We can be there in half an hour.”

“Agent Jaye, I am still the leader of the greatest nation of the free world,” Coburn said. “I think I might be able to rustle you up some support.”

Hayden hated to question this man and gritted her teeth after asking: “One hundred percent trustworthy?”

“Six men. Delta. I trained with two of them, and they trained the others. I stand by them.”

“Sounds perfect, Mr. President. I forgot you were military.”

“Not something you should admit to me, Agent. Can I trust you?”

Hayden knew it was just a small reprimand. “Yes, sir. Let’s meet ’em.”

“And thanks,” Smyth put in. “Thank you for helping Lauren.”

“My pleasure, soldier. She saved my life.”

“Are you safe, sir?” Hayden asked as they re-routed to a new address.

Coburn chuckled. “I believe that question is moot. Is the President ever safe? Before this very real threat there was another looming. Worse, if you can imagine that. Out of Russia.”

Hayden knew the President and many DC officials received constant, credible information of assassination attempts. It wasn’t unusual.

But Russia?

“Are you close?” Coburn asked.

Hayden shook herself and checked the satnav. “Five minutes out,” she said.

“Then good luck to you all. Bring me back good news, my friends.”

“That,” Molokai said, “is never in doubt.”

Hayden knew that Lauren had discovered Tempest’s secret lair — a place they called The Chamber — after her incredibly brave final crack at being Nightshade for General Gleeson. The laptop gave them the location and, thanks to Lauren’s quick-wittedness, Gleeson never really knew, nor revealed to anyone what had happened. Hayden also knew that Tempest were fully invested now — from killing everyone that got in their way to abducting the Secretary of Defense. When they met up with the Delta team, she made sure they were fully prepared.

“You’re SPEAR?” the team leader asked. “I thought there were more of you.”

“We’re a little stretched right now,” Smyth said. “But eager to get this done.”

It was just passing 9:00 a.m. in DC. The Chamber was code for a meeting place inside Meridian Hill Park, a small gazebo-like structure where these seven powerful men could meet in person. This had been Tempest’s big moment and was now their crisis — it was obvious they would meet up. The question was: When?

They’d been dug in around the area since first light, shivering and cold. Nobody talked, nobody moved. It was only when the obvious form of General George Gleeson approached that Hayden felt the uplift in her heartbeat.

“Strike one,” she whispered. “Nobody fucking move.”

Two minutes later, Mark Digby drew near from a different direction.

“Strike two.” Hayden was already clenching her fists.

“And three.” Kinimaka nodded to the west.

“Look there,” Smyth hissed with real venom in his voice. “That’s Rick Troy, the President’s aide; the one that burned Lauren and ordered the kill.”

“Just a little longer,” Hayden told him. “Then you’ll get your revenge.”

And in full, she hoped. Each member of Tempest came with more than one bodyguard. The odds were good that the men that tried to kill Lauren were here too.

“Ready,” the Delta team leader confirmed.

“Strike four,” Hayden said as another familiar face walked up to the brick-built structure and disappeared inside.

Kinimaka aimed a parabolic microphone at the building, listening to their comments through headphones. He gave them a thumbs-up, signaling that he was getting some key information. Of course, they didn’t need the extra evidence; they already had enough, but Hayden saw it as several more nails in Tempest’s coffin, and nobody could deny them that.

By 10:00 a.m. all the players were in place. Hayden signaled the Delta team that they were ready to deploy. A woman came sauntering along then, walking her dog along the dirt path, making the team hit pause.

“Wait,” Hayden said. “No risk to civilians right now.”

“Or canines,” Molokai added.

Hayden gave him a sidelong glance. “Those too.”

The dog-walker vanished only to be replaced by a jogger. Frustration set in. The team waited, primed to go but frozen in place. Another two minutes escaped from the day.

Hayden saw the moment finally arrive and gave Mano a nod which, for her, held multiple meanings; the most important of which was “stay safe.” Delta rose before SPEAR, climbing out of the underbrush. Already, they’d established there was no back door. They ran across the grass, shouting, drawing most of the bodyguards out into the open.

Hayden picked off two men, crossed the open greenery, and then ascended a gradual slope toward the front of the gazebo. Two dead bodyguards sprawled out and then rolled down the hill a short way. Hayden hurdled one, sidestepped the other. Delta Force ranged ahead, pinning men down or killing them. There was no respite. The park, the blue skies and the green shrubbery was no longer real for her — life had narrowed down to survival and victory, the unpleasant fall of what might have been a terrible empire.

More shots came from the gazebo as bodyguards hunkered down behind the walls, creating a stand-off. Hayden hit the grass hard, the slope affording her some cover. Within seconds, before she could ask, the Delta leader was shouting.

“Stand down! We will kill you if you don’t stand down. Look at your position.”

Tempest would be in a state of panic, forcing their armed protectors to get them out of there. Walls would be closing in. Panic in their chests. They deserved all of it and so much more.

A Delta soldier showed their enemies the error of their ways by throwing a grenade. It was hurled deliberately short — a warning blow.

“Last chance!”

Hayden took aim in case they went for a sudden break out. For long seconds nothing happened and then several guns arced through the air, smacking down onto the grass with a heavy thud. Shouts could be heard — Tempest berating their guards and ordering them to fight. But it was futile. The Chamber, as they called it, was indefensible.

Delta ordered the bodyguards out, lined them up on their knees and pointed guns at their heads. Smyth ran forward, ostensibly to help, but Hayden knew exactly what he was doing.

“Lancelot Smyth,” she warned. “You stand down right now.”

He didn’t acknowledge her. Hayden screwed her face up in irritation, but at the same time sympathized with the man. If Urban and Carmine — the two mercs that had tried to kill Lauren — were here, Smyth would take some form of recompense.

Incredibly, it ended as quickly as it had begun. General Gleeson emerged first, hands up, blustering hard, which only made Hayden smile. The others came shortly afterward. Rick Troy, the presidential aide, came last.

Hayden stared at him, the man that had ostensibly made SPEAR enemies of the state. Kinimaka and Molokai spread themselves out, observing every small movement.

Hayden breathed a sigh of relief, her mind turning to Drake and the others for one single, clear moment.

And then it happened; the last act of Tempest.