Devil's Island Read online

  “You knew them?”

  “Not well. Archer was a pool shark. Webster was a biker. Both were highly regarded and heading for the top.” His eyes lost focus. “Either would have been welcome to join the SPEAR team.”

  “I’m gonna be here another few weeks,” Yorgi said after a pause. “But Matt . . . before I was shot, I found my brothers. My sister. I’m planning their relocation.”

  “I know,” Drake said. “After we find Mai and the others, our next job is heading over there to help you.”

  Emotion filled the Russian’s voice. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, it’s all good. We’re family. Also, Hayden has a proposal for all of us. We want you to hear it too.”

  “What kind of proposal?” Yorgi sounded interested.

  “Something life-changing. According to Hayden, it’s gonna make everything better, and fresher, and much more fun. I guess we’ll wait and see.”

  “That gives me something to look forward to.” Yorgi’s voice tailed off with tiredness. Drake said his goodbyes. There would be enough time for their Russian sojourn later.

  Returning to the table, he fought off a rush of combined grief and fear for friends lost and missing. “Where are we?”

  Hayden looked up. “Dark Web.”

  “I thought you needed a special kind of computer for that.”

  “This is a CIA station,” Molokai reminded him.

  He kicked himself. Of course they’d be set up for that. Chances were, they’d probably invented the Dark Web to keep tabs on criminals and the worst type of predators. Molokai’s words, however, made Drake wonder once more about the leper’s mysterious past.

  One day, he vowed, we’ll find out.

  “This is slow going.” Kinimaka scratched his head in frustration. “More so, because I don’t know the slang, the right buzz words. I can’t work at the correct pace, which is friggin’ light speed. The people using this network—the ones that matter—can spot an interloper ten thousand miles away. I’m safer on the forums, using keywords.”

  “Like with Bing?” Alicia asked.

  “No, not really.”

  Drake watched Kinimaka navigate his way through one of the most horrific networks on the planet. Thirty minutes passed and then an hour. Molokai handed out rifles, spare ammo, knives and grenades in abundance. Kenzie swopped their flak jackets. Dahl rose and grabbed a handful of pre-pack sandwiches from the refrigerator, followed by bottles of water.

  Nobody voiced their worst thoughts but everyone in the room worried that Mai and Luther, Karin and Dino, as time wore on, were being subject to an enemy’s whims, an enemy’s preferences, and an enemy’s failings.

  Drake searched for a calm center, but the overwhelming loyalty he felt for every member of the team prevented him from finding it. Before their search for the bones of Odin began years ago, he’d struggled to find his niche in this world, a real sense of belonging. But the friends he’d met since along the way, and in the unlikeliest places on earth, had grounded him, given him a home that felt right. The home that was Team SPEAR.

  It was why every hour, every day, he never faltered. Never quit. He turned up, dug in, chased the next mission, never came up for air. SPEAR was his world, his family, and his rightful place in this world. Ever since the quest for the bones of Odin, he’d proved it every day.

  But change always came, no matter if you wanted it to or not. And at any cost. To survive, they would all have to roll with the changes.

  Kinimaka clicked his fingers at the screen. “Gotcha.”

  Hayden looked up from the weapon she was cleaning. “Found something, Mano?”

  “Just a small group of mercs chatting in a forum. Not about the island but about some underworld icon they call the Devil. They’re arguing the fact that he’s real with some others who’re just ribbing them. Trolling them, actually.”

  “Get to the point,” Dahl said.

  “Yeah, well that kind of is the point. Following ‘devil’ keywords led me here and then . . . well, I’ll read it out: ‘We just came from the dude’s island, man. He’s real.’ And: ‘We got orders from the Devil. We left the island a few days ago.’”

  “It’s thin,” Hayden said. “But let’s go talk to them. Where are they?”

  “Salou.” Kinimaka frowned.

  Hayden did a double take. “Salou? In Spain?”

  “It is a coastal town,” Kenzie said.

  “I know it’s a coastal town, but . . . shit.”

  Dahl tapped the table with his fingers. “What she’s trying to say is—it’s a long way to go if we’re wrong.”

  Drake wondered if there might be more within the thread. “Keep looking, Mano.”

  “Yeah, I’m on it, brah.”

  A few tense moments passed before he spoke again. “I have something but it’s obscure. Our three mercs were asked to describe the island. Quote: ‘There’s an old castle, heavily fortified. A land mass crawling with murderers, all factioned up. A big dock. And, today, a superyacht.’”

  “Kovalenko?” Drake asked.

  “It’s possible.”

  “It’s still a big stretch,” Hayden said.

  “The conversation’s ongoing,” Kinimaka said. “They’re asked who’s on board. Our mercs don’t know. They’re asked who it belongs to. They don’t know. But then they’re asked its name. And they reply . . . the Second Storm.” He paused, looking up.

  Dahl was on it. “Which is a play on the old Blood King’s yacht. That was called Stormbringer. And Luka is his legacy.”

  “A second storm.” Kinimaka shrugged.

  “Anything else?” Dahl asked.

  “Only that someone asks them for the island’s location. They answer: ‘Nobody who leaves ever knows where it is.’”

  “That’s better,” Hayden admitted. “We know Luka was briefly headed to the island. We know he sent our friends there, so must have visited before. With their other comments I think we’re safe to assume this is the real Devil’s Island.”

  Drake rose to his feet. “Then let’s stop dicking around and find a plane.”

  There were no arguments.

  * * *

  Salou was a Spanish resort town with long stretches of beach denoted by rocky outcroppings and a busy town center catering for tourists. It was famous for its windsurfing and sunset views just as much as its renowned PortAventura World resort. On seeing the town for the first time, Hayden thought it looked tired—one of those places with incredibly high tourist footfall that hadn’t been allowed to primp or embellish or reinvent itself for too many years. Buildings looked in need of paint and care. Shops and restaurants were the same as they had been two decades ago. On the other hand, it was a place that attracted newcomers and romantics alike.

  And idling mercenaries, it seemed.

  They landed at the airport and walked out into a wall of heat. Sweating, they negotiated a special customs area set up by Spain to accommodate pre-cleared foreign operatives. Hayden now followed Kinimaka along a street lined by market stalls, cheap souvenir shops and cafes. Every few steps they were forced to split and thread their way through droves of locals and tourists. Hayden saw all walks of life in this town. Women clad in bikinis. Shopkeepers wearing thick cardigans. Moped-driving youths delivering goods between souvenir outlets. A hen party squawked by. A British group of lads shouted happily in each other’s faces. Noise came from every direction. She was glad when they left the street and Kinimaka turned them into a quieter one.

  “Are we close?” Alicia asked.

  “Four minutes,” the Hawaiian answered.

  “Good, ’cause my body clock is telling me it’s 2 a.m., not p.m.”

  “Yeah.” Kinimaka nodded. “We should be sleeping.”

  “Sleep?” Alicia gave him a look of incredulity. “No, dude, we should be shagging.”

  “Well . . .”

  “Are you and Hayden back at it yet?”

  Kinimaka brightened to the color of a Hawaiian sunset whilst Hayden grinned.
It wouldn’t be long. They had been approaching that part of their relationship when Kovalenko hit London and even before that at the end of their chase for the weapons of the gods.

  It was worth the wait.

  Hayden stayed close, thinking of the enormous proposal she’d be offering them all at the end of this. It was good. It was future proof. Like most of her team, she’d been immersed in action and adventure since she met Matt Drake and Ben Blake at the Library of Congress in Washington DC. Back then, she’d been assigned to Secretary of Defense, Jonathan Gates, as a CIA liaison. The following years had seen her fight through innumerable encounters with good and evil, seeing exuberant life and shocking death. Overall, when she looked back, she felt like she hadn’t stopped chasing for a decade.

  It was far less than that, and that was part of the problem.

  Hayden used to believe that she should be a role model, that she had to live up to the great memory of her father—James Jaye. It had taken many years of hard living and near-death encounters for her to realize that she didn’t have to live up to anything.

  She only had to be true to herself.

  Admit what you want. Embrace change, you might like it. Yes, she’d taken that on board. She wanted Mano Kinimaka. And it would take a huge change to achieve that, which the proposal offered. To her mind, Team SPEAR all wanted something similar.

  They would embrace the change, she was sure. They had nothing to lose.

  Ahead, Kinimaka slowed and announced they’d arrived at the address. It was a gloomy looking sports bar, off the main street. Hayden’s senses were attuned—checking out the environment. The narrow sidewalk running past its front door vanished further down the street, around an acute corner. Molokai was already stalking off, checking it out. There was no roof access from this point. Two run-down shops faced the bar, one selling perfumes and the other selling sporting goods. By the look of them they were small units, offering no rear access. The bar itself was fronted by grimy windows.

  Drake was already at the door. “We ready?”

  He entered without waiting. Hayden followed fourth in line. They were dressed down for this mission—having convinced the four mercs over the Internet that they were fellow soldiers looking for a little guidance and were willing to fund their next two weeks in sunny Spain in return for some help. Hayden was under no illusions though. Mercs were a tight-knit bunch and would remain tight-lipped. Violence wouldn’t be far from the surface. Testosterone was expected.

  Inside, four small televisions played sports channels. A long, narrow bar faced them; a wary bartender behind looking up as they entered. A couple of older men sat to the right, nursing beers. Two youths lounged in window seats. To the left, three hard looking men in tight T-shirts stared, narrowing their eyes at the approaching party. They didn’t speak as Drake approached.

  Everyone carried concealed weapons. Hayden positioned her right hand within reach of her Glock.

  “Ey up,” Drake said. “We’re looking for Ray Harrison.”

  Hayden tensed. This was the agreed greeting. If the mercs didn’t like the situation they would start something now.

  A moment of tension passed and then a voice spoke up at their backs. “Hey. I’m Ray Harrison.”

  Hayden spun. It was one of the older guys who’d been sitting watching TV, regarding them with a smug expression on his face. Clearly, he thought he’d outsmarted them.

  Molokai laid a huge hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Good to meet you,” he boomed in the man’s ear.

  Harrison turned to look and then flinched away. “What the fuck is that?”

  He hurried past Hayden to the table where his own colleagues sat.

  Drake placed two hands on its surface and leaned in. “He’s our friend. Now, are we good?”

  Harrison looked across at his friends before answering. “We’re good. Next time, it’d be better if you mentioned there were eight of you.”

  “We’re not planning on a next time, pal.” Drake seated himself at the table. Dahl drew up a chair alongside whilst Kinimaka and Molokai stood at their backs. The sight was intimidating, arranged to lessen the chances of violence.

  Harrison nodded at his three colleagues. “That’s Rob Brown, Chris Brown and Paul Smith,” he said.

  Alicia chortled. “Two Browns and a Smith? Come on.”

  “It’s true,” the one called Smith said, flashing her a haughty glance.

  She held a hand out and flashed all three of them a sarcastic expression. “Hi, Cara Delvigne at your service.”

  Drake gave her a warning glance whilst the mercs just looked confused. “Don’t worry about her,” he said. “She’s an acquired taste. We just need to talk about Devil’s Island.”

  Harrison leaned back, saying nothing.

  Rob Brown answered, “We were kept in a compound near the docks at night. During the day we were given access to the castle, but nothing else. We kept the slaves in line. We unloaded and loaded the ships, keeping an eye on everything. We manned the castle walls just in case the islanders attacked.”

  Hayden’s head filled with a dozen questions.

  Drake asked his own before she could open her mouth. “Islanders?”

  Chris Brown took that one. “We don’t know a hell of a lot. We were there just a few weeks. There’s this guy they call the Devil—he owns and runs the place—and a long time ago, presumably when he was less experienced—he brought the worst of the worst there. The most hunted men in the world. He let them live out of sight of the authorities and everyone else. I don’t know why. Through the years the numbers grew, and these men started in-fighting. Eventually they formed clans. I think there are four. So now, the Devil lives in his castle by the docks, where twenty-four hours a day he’s forced to guard everything he owns. The docks form the only accessible landing area on the island which is obviously why he built the castle there. The rest of it . . .” Brown passed a finger across his neck. “Deadly. Unapproachable.”

  “Four clans?” Drake replied. “How do they survive?”

  “Well, the Marauders have the cliffs to the west. The caves. There are small animals, but also small valleys where they grow food. The Hunters have the big valley, where the food is more plentiful, the land arable. The Creepers have the forest. The Scavengers—the baddest assholes of all—prey on everything else. And they all have the surrounding coastlines, the cliffs, whatever else is there. Maybe they fish. Who knows?”

  “How strong are these clans?” Dahl asked.

  “Not a clue, bud. Dozens strong, I would say.”

  “And they never attack the castle?”

  “Oh shit, yeah, they attack. But they always lose.”

  “So far,” Harrison put in.

  “What do you know about this Devil character?” Molokai asked.

  Harrison eyed the giant. “Didn’t hear a whole hell of a lot. The other guys kept tight lipped. He’s one scary dude and lets it be known on your first day that any trespassing, any breach of trust, or any inquiries into him or his past will be met with extreme prejudice. And he didn’t just mean a firing squad or an enforced cliff dive. I saw a kid, only two years a merc, staked out on the beach for days, bleeding out slowly, salt water rushing over his wounds, the hard sun blistering his face. Must have been excruciating, and he was staked right among us, on the walkway from the compound to the docks.” He shook his head. “The Devil deserves his title.”

  “Okay,” Hayden understood they wouldn’t be learning any more about the island’s owner just yet. “The big question—where is it?”

  “Lady, we’ve already covered that,” Rob Brown said. “Nobody who leaves ever knows where it is.”

  “How is that possible?” Alicia voiced her frustration.

  “They transport you in the hull,” Harrison said. “Takes days. No sunlight. No windows. Nothing except stale food, water and buckets. But —” he sipped at a beer “—the pay’s good.”

  “Fuck,” Alicia muttered. “What the hell do we do now?”
/>   “I heard it’s in the Pacific,” Chris Brown spoke up, staring away from them out of a nearby window. “Some of the other guys can read constellations, you know? And the climate is right for the Pacific.”

  Dallas shifted his feet. “Well, that narrows it down to over one hundred and fifty million square kilometers,” he said, “in the largest and deepest of the world’s oceans.”

  The mercs went silent. Hayden saw they’d squeezed about as much out of them as they were going to get. To be fair, it had been a reasonable meeting. Maybe the warm Spanish weather helped calm the ego.

  Kinimaka looked around at her. “What next?” he asked.

  “We look again,” she said, glad to see determination in the big man’s eyes. They would never give up. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “We will find them, Mano.”

  Harrison was watching her. “You know somebody on the island?”

  Hayden berated herself, but decided the truth couldn’t hurt. “Four friends,” she said. “Sent there against their will. We’re trying to rescue them.”

  “You don’t stand a chance,” Chris Brown said. “The docks are the only safe entry and heavily guarded.”

  “Then we’ll use an un-safe entry,” Dahl growled.

  “But then you’ll have to cross the entire island,” Rob Brown said. “Past the four clans. You’ll die.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like you know where we could land,” Drake said.

  “No, no. It’s just words.”

  Hayden saw there would be no more information. The mercs had said their piece and were waiting to be paid. She motioned to Kinimaka, who pulled out a thick wad and threw it onto the table.

  The team retreated, heading for the door. Hayden opened it first and let everyone else through. Her eyes met those of the four mercs one last time but saw no compassion there, nothing other than severity.

  Outside, the hot weather swathed them like a thick blanket. Molokai led the way back to the main street, where the team gathered.

  “The Pacific?” Dallas whispered. “What next?”

  Kenzie, who had remained silent in the bar, spoke up now. “We could find more mercs.”