The Blood King Conspiracy (Matt Drake 2) (17 page)

“Well, it’s getting late - or early,” he shrugged. “Shall we regroup in a few hours?”

They all took the hint. In a matter of moments he was left alone with Kennedy. The New York cop was eyeing him closely.

“You had a thing with her, yes?”

No reason to lie. “Long time ago. Before Alyson.”

“I guessed that. You should have told me.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what couples do. Especially when an old flame joins the group.”

“Ah. Sorry. It all seemed a little awkward.” He wondered why women always wanted to know the ins and outs of every little thing.

Kennedy came up close. Her body leaned in to his. Behind her, the open windows looked out onto endless rows of offices, hotel and apartment buildings, all twinkling with their homely lights. The bright beams of car headlights cut sharply through the night.

Kennedy shrugged her trousers down and reached for his. “Now, to coin a time-honoured phrase - ‘let’s get something straight between us’.”

*****

Sometime later, with Kennedy sleeping, Drake swung himself out of bed and went to survey their outskirts. The hotel was twenty-four hour so it wasn’t difficult leaving without drawing attention. He swung through a small side door before it had chance to open automatically and stepped into the warm Miami night.

Christ, if only the nights were like this back home instead of the freeze-your-balls-off winters the U.K. usually endured.

The hotel entryway and car park curved around a raised central feature - an extensive rockery, riddled with water fountains and random trees. It was a perfect place to plant a shooter. Or a watcher.

Drake eyed it carefully whilst taking in the rest of the view. Twenty metres down and the occasional car flew along one of Miami’s quieter roads. Beyond that were the stark, dirty backs of buildings, rows upon rows of them. An easy place to get lost in.

The road to the right led all the way into the heart of Miami. Drake watched as the cars blasted by, each one inhabited by a soul intent on his destination, aiming towards something, with a life, and a future, and a purpose.

Why didn’t he feel the same way?

That one was easy. Because he hadn’t resolved Alyson’s death. Because he hadn’t yet come to terms with losing the child he had never even seen.

A shadow flickered nearby as he had known it would. Mai stepped into the semi-light.

“My friend, I have missed you.”

He stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. If the Blood King himself had sauntered up, bristling with weapons, Drake would have see nought but a black haze.

“So much has happened, Mai. Do you remember the last time we were together, in Venice? We didn’t have a clue it would be ten years before we saw each other again.”

“Yes, I remember. A serial killer called Daniel Belmont. We never caught him. I believe he’s still at large.”

“Christ. I didn’t know that. It’s good to see you, Mai.”

The Japanese woman gave a demure shrug. “I know.”

“I hope Wells didn’t give you too much of a hard time.”

“He is a pest, for sure. But not someone I can’t handle,” she said, her tiny mouth twitching as if the idea was laughable. “He is a sex maniac, I think.”

“Well, you
did
get yourself in some . . . shall we say . . .
unusual
positions, Mai.” Drake’s own smile was lost in the dark.

“Whenever the operation required it, of course. I serve my country, Drake, by any means. And I get the job done. Did I ever fail?”

“Not that I recall.”

“And the record remains the same.” She paused. “Is that wrong?”

“It’s the
song remains the same.
Led Zepp.” They had come up with the
Dinorock
banter between them a long time ago. Now he wondered if he should warn her that he had continued in the same vein with Ben and Kennedy.

But, somehow, fate just didn’t seem to want him to.

Hayden came out the front door of the hotel then, closely followed by Alicia and Hudson. Drake and Mai slunk back into the shadows.

“Looks like they got Hudson that super-computer to work with,” Drake mused. “I hope to God the chunky twat can rip through some protocols.” He cringed when the swear-word came out. For some reason he had always tried to curb his soldiery tendencies when around Mai.

“Hmm. Let us hope so.”

Drake watched the trio leave. He wasn’t surprised when Alicia Myles turned around and flicked off a quick, two-finger wave. Drake stared after her.

Can’t trust a cold-blooded woman.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The next day was startling - a day of total comedown. Drake, still hyped on the events of the last few days, found himself with no one to chase, no one to follow and no one to kill.

Didn’t seem right somehow.

Hudson was ensconced with his new computer inside one of the neighbouring hotels. Hayden and Kinimaka were on constant watch. When asked, Hayden refused to explain how she had acquired such a computer, just that it had come down through ‘different channels’. Drake guessed Gates was involved somewhere and asked if the U.S. Secretary of Defence had moved any further forward yet.

“I get the feeling,” Hayden said, “that we’re on our own down here.” She pulled Drake aside and spoke for his ears alone. “And I don’t know
why,
Matt. It feels like we’ve been left swinging, but then I get a computer when I ask for one through some extremely odd channels. It feels like we’re unsupported, but then Gates continues to come through. He
sounds
like someone’s got his balls in a trouser-press - that’s what it sounds like.”

Drake winced. “Firstly - lay off the ball-crushing metaphors when there’s a guy around. Secondly - maybe someone has gotten to him, just like the others in DC. Question is - how?”

“DC’s a hive of commerce, sensationalism and corruption,” the CIA agent told him. “Without help, we’ll never know.”

“He’s risking a lot then,” Drake pointed out. “Helping you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Drake gleaned more from the reaction than he wanted to.  “How’s the Bearded Tit doing?”

Hayden flashed a genuine smile. “Between burger-breaks, beer-breaks, cigarette-breaks and sex sessions with Alicia - not bad.”

Drake made a face. “Urrgh.”

There was a knock on the door and Mai slipped inside, closely followed by Wells. Alicia uncurled from her position across the room’s only sofa. “Can we help you,
Jap government?”

Mai turned a sweet smile in her direction. “You may. We would like a progress report.”

“Jus’ weaving some magic!” Hudson shouted, seemingly stoked up on horse tranquilizers.

Was that how he kept up with Alicia?
Drake swatted the cruel thought away and moved to intercept. Mai, however, slipped inside him and met the English SAS woman head on.

Drake blinked. He hadn’t even come close to stopping her. Damn, seven years out really did damage the skill-set. He used to be able to live with her, for a few minutes at least. When this Blood King thing was finished, he vowed, he would take a little time to get back into training.

SAS
training.

Alicia was getting dangerously close to Mai. “Progress? How about you progress Wells over there and go bang his brains out!”

“How is the Bearded Tit doing?” Mai asked, deadpan.

Alicia stopped and gawked. Drake winced. Damn, he wished he hadn’t coined poor old Hudson’s nickname, and then spoken it aloud hundreds of times.

Alicia pulled herself together and struck Mai across the face with a resounding slap. Drake stared.
Oh my-

Mai still smiled. “When you do make your move,” she whispered. “Hit me like a man.”

The only thing moving or breathing was Tim Hudson, still the only one oblivious to what was going down. His fingers flew across the keyboard. He laughed when complicated firewalls yielded easily to the power of the CIA computer and his own deft touch. He swigged beer whilst he waited for algorithms to integrate and passwords to crumble.

Alicia stared at Mai for what seemed a lifetime before turning away. Drake knew then how very deeply she cared for Hudson. Old Alicia would have jumped in with both feet. New Alicia was a different prospect.

Hudson blew a raspberry in frustration. “We’re into application-layer firewalls now, dudes. Shit that
thinks.
You see? These deep-packet inspection applications may think they’re good, but they play right into my hands,” he massaged his fingers excitedly. “If they can steal information first and then eavesdrop then I can do the same-“ he paused. “So long as they don’t detect me.”

Hudson stood up and spun around. “Latest algorithm’s gonna take a while.”

They drifted out, leaving Hudson and Alicia to ‘kill some time’. Wells made sure he remained as close to Mai as humanly possible.

“So,” Drake said to him, “you happy with all the Mai-time you’re getting?”

Wells looked a little horror-stricken. “You said that out loud, Drake.
Fuck!”

Mano Kinimaka positioned himself by the door. Hayden looked back and gave him a wave. “Don’t bother. Those two ain’t going anywhere.”

Drake nodded. “You get that impression too, huh?”

Wells added: “No way would the Alicia I knew and trained back down from a fight. Not a chance in hell.”

“Then she would now be dead,” Mai said. “Or dying. Perhaps you could have saved her, Mr Wells?”

“I don’t like to brag-”

“An old commander would want to save her, would he not? Jump in the line of fire, as they say.”

“Myles is a psycho,” Wells blurted. “A murderer. She killed her last boyfriend in cold blood just cos he caught her cheating on him. Guy called Milo.”

“Well,” Mai shrugged, “none of us are perfect.”

Kinimaka rumbled up behind them. “So now what? We wait for the amorous twosome to finish and then come back?”

“Amorous?” Hayden laughed, a welcome change of expression to her face of late. “Says the
passionate loverrr.”
She said the last two words in a mock Italian accent.

“It’s what my name
means,”
Kinimaka began to explain, and then realised his boss was beating his balls. “And I’ll say no more.”

Mai looked like she was taking it all in. Drake glanced at his watch. “Anyone hungry? It’s after one.”

“Nothing else to do,” Kinimaka said, shaking his head. “Anyone would think this was already over.”

“If that were the case,” Hayden told him, “you’d be taking an extended leave in Oahu, my friend. North shore, I promise you that.”

Over?
Drake was thinking.
No. Not by a long shot.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The Blood King swopped restlessly between three Sat-phones. On the first was his lackey, Ed Boudreau. On the second was his overseer of the ranch back home, a man who went just by the name
Claude.
On the third was Senator John R. Lender.

The Blood King so loved to make a man break down.

“Please,”
Lender was begging.
“Please. I couldn’t go on . . .”

The Blood King grinned. “Beg, you Yankee bastard,” his voice was low and guttural, the kind of noise that had sent shards of fear through men since the caveman days.

It was the Blood King’s natural voice.

“I do beg. I beg you.”

The Blood King left him pleading and addressed Boudreau. “Explain to me, Mr Boudreau, how you lost the controller. Leave nothing out.”

Boudreau was succinct, one could give him that. He was dangerous too, but only up to a certain level. The game being played was known in its entirety only to the Blood King, and went far beyond Blackbeard and his two devices. It went deep into Diamond Head itself, and to the very Gates of Hell.

But that was for the future. The Blood King had prepared well. Claude, his ranch supervisor, was attending to the
future
side of things.

He addressed Claude whilst the other two babbled: “Are our guests uncomfortable?”

“As requested, sir.”

“It may be some time, yet, but I will make my way there. Have everything in order. Do not fail me. I believe there are still three on your . . . list?”

“Yes, sir. Preparations are under way.”

The Blood King ended the call. It was time to turn his attention back to Boudreau. “Ed,” he growled.
“Ed,”
like the sound of a lion crunching bones.