The Blood King Conspiracy (Matt Drake 2) (24 page)

Saved, thank God.

She sensed the Blood King’s men standing over her as her blood pooled on the deck.

Three more shots rang out.

She sensed no more.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Drake fired everything he had, sprinting headlong for the wall of the Blood King’s men. Mai and Alicia backed him up without hesitation. Beyond the curve ahead they could hear the Blood King’s manic laughter, a terrible beacon to guide them.

Drake closed in. The mercenaries who were still alive and kicking reached out to grapple him. The ex-SAS man didn’t break stride. The terrible deadliness had taken over now, the man he used to be eclipsing the civilian as he thought about the Blood Vendetta and all it may mean.

His friends. Their families. All of them. Hunted by ruthless men without conscience, without souls.

Within three minutes he was through them, with no little help from Mai. Alicia mopped up the rear, and Drake just knew she’d be pissed at the relegation.

He hurdled one last man to reach the corner and peered around. The space to the right opened into a vast stateroom-cum-bedroom. The Blood King’s abode.

The man himself stood to the left of the immense bed. Dmitry Kovalenko was a fit, broad man who seemed to be around forty. His face was sharply chiselled and showing the strains of running an empire whilst staying at myth status, but his demeanour radiated health and calm and superiority.

The harsh, rough voice that came out of his mouth belied his years. “You will never
hold me
. There is not a prison I could not own. A judge I could not control. A
Government
I do not already possess . . .” He left that statement hanging.

“I know something of your reach,” said Drake, as his eyes examined every inch of the room, noticing nothing awry. “What I don’t know is how you enforce it.”

Kovalenko’s weakness, it was becoming clear, was pure self-absorption. Maybe it came after a lifetime at sea with nothing to challenge him but the conundrum as to why celebrity jungle shows ever became popular.

“To own the man,” Kovalenko grated, “you must own that to which he is most attached. That is all. You want to save this world? What kind of world is it you live in, that would make a monster like me?”

“How many men do you own?” Drake listened, but kept his surveillance up around the room. Mai and Alicia crept past on his left. The SEAL team backed him up. Kovalenko just stood there, arrogant and supreme.

What’s he got up his sleeve?

“All of them,” the Blood King said with an arrogant smirk, “. . . that matter.”

“You have what each man loves,” Mai said softly as she advanced lightly towards the bed. “By that, you mean his wife or child. You steal his heart and put him to work by threat and promise. That is what you do.”

“My ranches, yes, are full of their little brats. Crawling with their women.”

Drake spied the rusty device. It was behind the Blood King, partly shielded by his body, on an ornate sideboard.

Mai gave him a fleeting look, but her eyes said it all.
Yes, I still have the device I spirited away from Hayden. Yes, I will keep it safe. And yes, I will not allow any one government to hold both devices at the same time.

It was the deal they had made between them. It was the only way they could work for a government and keep a healthy conscience. The Japanese had instructed Mai to claim both devices at any cost. The Americans, no doubt, wanted the same.

Drake and Mai maintained a different stance.

Kovalenko noticed their stares. “You kept the second device from me. Enjoy your victory. That is what sealed the Blood Vendetta around you.”

Drake had had enough. “A curse I’ll
make
you take back when I take you apart,” he moved in quickly.

The Blood King barked out a laugh that wouldn’t seem out of place if it came from a grizzly. “You lack vision, Matt Drake.
Vision.”

With that the Blood King flicked his wrist. Attached to the underside was a tiny black box that resembled a mobile phone. With another harsh flick he armed the device. His last words were directed at Drake: “You know she’s dead already.”

Then the ship started to explode.

*****

Ed Boudreau exploded from the water, a white shark wearing a crocodile smile. Time stood momentarily still for Hayden. Assailants were coming at her from the right, but Kinimaka and the Delta soldiers were picking them off.

Boudreau levelled his knife between her eyes and twirled the blade a little. “CIA agents are his favourite meal.”

Hayden fumbled her gun up, but Boudreau leapt from the top of the jacuzzi and crashed down into her. His head smacked into her chin and she saw stars as she hit the floor.

Nevertheless, she scrambled back. Her vision still blurred, the knife point was her whole centre of balance. He could have killed her right then. The gun in his other hand was no doubt almost fully loaded.

But the manic glint in his eyes matched the glint of the blade and was just as deadly.

Two Delta soldiers now peeled off from the battle by the base of the jacuzzi and shouted at Boudreau to stand down. Without a moment’s hesitation he shot one of them in the flak-jacket and leapt with amazing speed around Hayden.

His knife flicked out again, slicing a gash in her wrist, but now the fog was starting to clear and the pain of the wound actually helped. Hayden faced him down.

“You murdered them like a coward, Boudreau.”

Now she leapt at him, straight at the blade. The surprise registered on his face just as she landed, took the vicious edges between both hands and jerked hard. The knife twisted so rapidly she heard one of the madman’s wrists snap.

He grunted, and gritted his teeth. She flung the knife away and brought her head smashing into his nose, another piece of cartilage snapped. Still Boudreau only murmured, driving her fury on. She jabbed stiffened fingers towards his eyes, kicked out at his knees.

Boudreau blocked, but fell back, heading for the corner. The crazy arrogance never left his gaze. Kinimaka appeared at her shoulder.

“Put the gun down, asshole. You’re done.”

“Done?” Boudreau giggled as he flapped his broken wrist at them. “No. Not done. Just waiting.”

*****

The Blood King’s vessel, the
Stormbringer,
lurched in the sea, an aerodynamic behemoth brought to its knees. Explosions came from the hull around the bulkheads that made up the structural support.

Drake staggered along with the ship. When he looked up the Blood King was gone. Drake knew there was another level below this one, below the water line, some kind of maintenance level where the engines and machinery ran. He started forward, wondering if there were some kind of trapdoor in the floor.

The SEAL team leader shouted to three of his men to retrieve the device from the sideboard: “No. This mission is over.”

Drake turned black eyes on him. “Didn’t you hear him? He’s issued a vendetta. That means I can’t keep them safe anymore. None of them.”

The SEAL team leader turned away. “We go, . . . now.” He signalled to his men.

“Kennedy,” Drake muttered. “Ben.”

Mai took his arm. “Quickest way to reach them is to get off this ship,” she said, sounding as calm as if she was sunbathing on a Jamaican beach. “Save the Blood King for later.”

“He’ll get away.”

The ship pitched dangerously forward, sending them all rolling towards the bed. A hole blasted through the floor to the starboard side, taking half the wall with it. A shocking flood of daylight burst through.

“We have to go. Now.”

The roof collapsed at the far end.

“I saw Titanic,” Drake muttered. “I know we have to leave before the ship starts to sink. But we have to get the vendetta lifted. This guy has the reach and capability to kill us all and everyone we love.”

“I realise that,” Mai whispered very softly. “I have family of my own.”

Drake looked at her, suddenly worried.

“We can find the Blood King,” Alicia said. “Better than anyone. You know that, Drake. Besides he has another agenda. Some lifelong-”

Another explosion and the entire boat listed in the water. Mai dragged Drake towards the hole in the hull, not taking ‘no’ for an answer. When Drake got to the hole he could see the USS Lake Erie floating in the distance and his mind was made up.

“Protect them now,” he said. “Fight later.”

They approached the ragged opening. As luck would have it there was no railing at this point. The blue Caribbean waited invitingly below where men were already swimming through the calm waters. The USS Lake Erie had launched Zodiac’s to rescue them.

Drake jumped, Kennedy and Ben the sole focus of his mind.

*****

When the first explosion rocked the Blood King’s ship Hayden and Kinimaka fell against each other. Boudreau recovered quickest. He’d been expecting it. He leapt at them, snarling, showing no signs of wanting to escape.

His eyes came down to stare into Hayden’s, his nose touching her own. “You feel me?” He plunged the blade in the direction of her belly.

Hayden’s world caught fire. Her lips touched Boudreau’s in a grotesque parody of a kiss as she reeled forward in agony. But before Boudreau could twist the hilt and inflict more damage Kinimaka had rolled ungainly on top of him.

Boudreau wheezed as all the air left his body. The man was pinned, unable to move. Kinimaka took a few seconds to regain his equilibrium and then deliberately began to throttle him.

Hayden panted heavily. “Unconscious, Mano. Not dead.”

The big Hawaiian turned puppy-dog eyes on her. “Are you-”

“Yes. He may . . . may have information about Kovalenko’s next move,” she groaned.

“You gonna live, boss?”

“Probably. Blade glanced off my jacket and went through my thigh. Hurts like a mother, though.”

One of the Delta soldiers cried: “Zodiacs are outside. We need to evac! Now!”

Kinimaka scooped up Boudreau’s unconscious body with one arm and Hayden with the other. “Just point the damn way.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Drake ran as if there was a fire at his heels. Somewhere along the climb to the top of the ship he lost Mai, but that was part of the plan. The Japanese woman would now use her resources to disappear, and the two devices would never meet again.

Drake felt a tug of sorrow, knowing that Mai and he might also never meet again. Once a mission was over, its avant-garde participants rarely assembled again.

And he was no Nick Fury. Or Joss Whedon, for that matter.

Sunlight flooded his eyes as he breached the top deck and came out onto the big mass of concrete. He shielded his eyes. Alicia was by his side. Hayden and Kinimaka were below, the CIA agent having being taken immediately to the sick bay.

Ben didn’t even know his girlfriend was injured, but Drake wanted to be the first to assure him she was going to be alright.

He started towards the bow, but the area was deserted. “Could be anywhere, Drakey,” Alicia said. “Just because the boy said ‘meet me at the bow’ doesn’t mean he’ll be allowed to stay there.”

“Kid just wants to be DiCaprio for a minute, that’s all.” Drake was about to turn away when someone shouted above and behind him. He looked around to the next deck up, which began about half the length of the missile-cruiser.

There, standing at the rail was Ben Blake. There was blood on his hands, on his distraught face, and soaked through his shirt. Drake felt instant panic and a jolt of pure terror rocketed through his system.

“Kennedy!” He raced for the steps, leaping two, three at a time.
“No!”
He reached deck level and stopped.

Just stopped.

She was laid out on her back. A doctor stood next to her, head bowed. Half a dozen marines guarded her, but not from any further danger.

Kennedy Moore was dead.

Drake made it to her side before collapsing. At first he dared not touch her, but held his hands above her body, above her face.

Emotion took him like a storm, wracking his body, tearing into his soul.

“She saved my life,” Ben said, and Drake squeezed his eyes shut so tight his head began to throb.

The woman he loved lay dead in his arms. She would never feel again. Never breathe again. All her thoughts and experiences and memories laid waste and scattered to the ethos. Nothing she worried about or cared about mattered anymore.

She was gone.

The Blood King had struck a hard first blow with his vendetta.

Drake looked up, straight at the sun, unable to see through the glare and the tears. The first person his gaze found a minute later was the man who had betrayed them all to the Blood King.

Justin Harrison.

Drake felt the rage explode. He flew at the man, screaming, wringing his neck between hands that shook with pain and rage and grief.

People tried to tear him away. Marines battered him with rifles.

They were a blur. An insignificance, a buzzing fly. Every ounce of Drake’s hate poured into that stranglehold and nothing would tear him away.

Even minutes later, when Harrison lay almost dead and Ben’s mournful voice finally registered to his ears.

“The Blood King took Harrison’s daughter, Kate. He kidnapped her and made Harrison work for him. Oh, Matt.”

And at last, one of the marine’s blows caught him on the temple, sending him into a deep, crawling oblivion.

Drake collapsed to the deck and knew no more.

The End

The third book in the Matt Drake adventure series will be available late 2012

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