The Alicia Myles Series Boxset 1 Read online

  “Oh fu—”

  NINE

  Alicia ducked as the bodies slammed into her, forcing them over her lowered back and away. Still more came, some dead, some dying, tangled with others that were very much alive. Alicia fought to keep her balance, to keep her head above the growing jumble of arms and legs, whilst dodging out of the way of even more heavy, tumbling bodies.

  At last the flow came to an end. Russo stood to her left, a man withstanding a tide, using the considerable strength in his arms and legs to divide the waters. In the end Alicia almost expected him to start beating his chest.

  She fought to pull herself free, kicking with her legs, all efforts at grace or skill put aside. She used the cargo vest of a dead man to haul herself free, balancing on top of his body. Where the hell was Healey?

  Russo was also searching the mass. Bullets still flew from Crouch’s position behind them, where they used the kids’ slide for cover. Alicia knew it was only a matter of moments before their enemies brought the guy with the Steyr forward.

  One man rose before her. She headbutted him back down among his brethren. Another challenged Russo and found himself launched into the air, arms and legs flapping as if trying to fly. Alicia hopped from man to man, using their backs and chests as purchase.

  “Healey!” Russo’s bellow surely woke half of Mexico City.

  Alicia saw hands waving as a disabled soldier managed to untangle his limbs just enough to swivel a rifle at her. With the speed of a striking viper she reached down and tore the gun from his hands, upended it and blasted a hole through his forehead. She wouldn’t indiscriminately kill these men in their helplessness even now, as they clearly fought to kill her, but if they didn’t learn their place at her feet it was game over.

  Alicia bounced her way over toward Healey’s hands. The young man was caught beneath a lifeless slab of meat, someone approaching Russo’s size, but lacking the hard lines and craggy exterior in favor of scars and black tattoos.

  “Looks like you were enjoying that,” she said as she pulled him free.

  Healey breathed hard, unable to retort between gasps. Russo joined them. Healey took a second to dig out his cellphone and take a picture of the big soldier’s neck tattoo.

  Alicia wished she had a moment to comment. The possibilities were endless. But now was most certainly not the time.

  “What do you say we get the fuck outta here?”

  Alicia jumped down the struggling pile, running the instant her feet hit hard ground. By the time her eyes registered the terrible scene ahead she was too far to turn back and hunt for a new weapon.

  A second team had clearly ambushed Crouch’s position. Crouch himself was pinned down underneath the slide, his arm around Cruz, keeping the attackers at bay, but Lex and Caitlyn were anything but safe. The uncommon feeling of terror gripped Alicia’s chest as she saw both Lex and Caitlyn being dragged away by a group of armed men.

  “No!” Not after her promise. Not after Caitlyn had trusted her. And not after she’d brought Lex all this way.

  To die.

  Alicia increased her pace, outdistancing Russo with ease. The enemy soldiers continued to drag Caitlyn and Lex along, struggling up the ditch’s incline at the other end of the playing field. If Alicia had a rifle she could have started to pick them off, but it was lost under the groaning mass back there. A man turned, saw her, and took a potshot. Alicia didn’t flinch as the bullet droned past her face.

  She was closing the gap.

  Then more men saw her. Shouts went up. Guns were snapped in her direction and aimed. The moment they fired she anticipated and rolled forward, tucking her arms and legs in, passing under the deadly flight, and hit the incline at speed. The men vented their alarm. One of them suddenly spun Lex and shoved him hard down the hill toward her. Alicia, at full speed, couldn’t dodge out of the way. She hit the biker head on, the impact causing an explosion inside her head. Falling, plummeting to the ground, she tried one last time to correct her balance.

  Above them, at the top of the slope, Caitlyn’s despairing eyes were more like an accusation than a statement of hope.

  TEN

  Licking their wounds, Crouch’s team melted into the night before finding a vehicle and using it to take them to a hotel. Alicia wondered if their escape hadn’t ended up being a little too easy in the end. Maybe all the enemy had wanted were kills and a kidnap. Clearly, they thought Caitlyn had been a part of the team since the beginning.

  The worst part was, she hadn’t been. She didn’t have the whole picture, not by a long shot. Alicia knew the type of pressures their enemy would exert on her and it was driving her crazy.

  “C’mon,” she said as the remainder of the team unloaded their belongings into the new hotel room. “We have to track down these bastards before they start hurting her.”

  “Can’t believe they took Caitlyn.” Healey’s face was despondent. “Poor girl’s only just joined the frickin’ team.”

  “At least she won’t be able to tell ‘em anything,” Lex said gruffly.

  “That’s part of the point,” Alicia explained. “It will be worse for her.”

  Crouch said nothing, but opened and booted up a laptop as soon as he found a seat. Alicia herded Healey straight over to him. “The tattoo. Show him.”

  Crouch took the cellphone from the young soldier. “This is good. Gives us a fair starting point at least.”

  “One thing worries me—” Russo began.

  “Only one?” Alicia shook her head.

  Russo ignored the comment. “Greg Coker. From what we know about the man this doesn’t come even close to his modus operandi. What are we missing?”

  Crouch was busy downloading the tattoo from Healey’s phone onto the laptop. “We have to assume Greg’s merely a pawn, part of something that goes way deeper. Greg Coker would not do this to our team. It’s the criminal organization behind him that’s the concern.”

  “But what could they do to Coker to make him cooperate in such a way?” Healey asked with an air of innocence.

  Alicia eyed him but saved her comment. If the kid stayed in this game he would learn soon enough.

  “You get any other pictures down there?” she asked, thinking a little ribbing might help take his mind off Caitlyn. “Tangled up with so many men?”

  “Umm, no I—” Healey suddenly looked sheepish. “Oh, I see.”

  Russo jumped to his rescue. “Did you? Seemed kinda at home underneath all those men.”

  “They were throwing themselves at me.” Alicia spread her hands. “What’s a girl s’posed to do?”

  Crouch made a noise as he finished uploading the data. Once he was happy with the picture he turned to his phone. “Let’s see who we can find.”

  “Hope you never lose that thing,” Russo pointed out.

  “Oh yes, the contacts on here are a treasure themselves. Cleverly though I’ve saved everything to the Cloud.”

  “Really? From what I hear the Cloud isn’t exactly unhackable these days.”

  Alicia nodded. “Yeah. Thank God I take all my nudes by Polaroid.”

  Healey, unable to help himself, glanced over. Lex barked out a laugh. “She’s not serious, man.”

  Alicia kept her face straight. “Aren’t I, Lex? How would you know?”

  The biker shrugged indifferently. “Whatever.”

  “That sounded a bit like ‘fuck you’.”

  Lex almost smiled. “Whatever.”

  Crouch waved them to silence as his first call connected. “Healey. Get on the database and start trying to match that tattoo. Russo, go for a recce and set up a watch. The clock is ticking, people. If we want to find Caitlyn in one piece we have to find her now.”

  ELEVEN

  As far back as she could remember Caitlyn Nash had always been burdened with a nervous disposition. If anything remotely outside her comfort zone presented, the uncertainty began to creep in, the barriers went up, and she crept back into herself. It was one of the reasons she’d learned her
craft so extensively—at least in her field of expertise she would never feel ill at ease.

  Joining Crouch’s team had seemed to be a perfect opportunity. The offer came at the right time, in the right way, through Armand Argento, one of the few men she could now trust. A change was what she needed and, not having had a boyfriend since high school, pets, or indeed parents she could look in the eye of late, she counted her lucky stars and jumped at the chance.

  A dream job.

  Now a nightmare. Caitlyn recalled the shock she felt when men started storming the apartment and shooting at them. She remembered the only respite being Alicia Myles, the woman that had promised to take care of her. Then, when chaos took the night in its grip and everyone became separated the only eyes she could see were the hard, flinty eyes of her enemy. The ones that forced her along with them and strapped her arms together.

  Now, tied to a chair, arms behind her and ankles secured, she could only wait for the inevitable. Nobody had visited her yet. The room where she waited was a simple concrete box, empty, windowless, with water dripping somewhere she couldn’t see. No other noise interrupted her isolation. It was as if the end of the world had come and left her behind.

  Caitlyn fought the anxiety. It wouldn’t be good to let them see it. Her field training had been brief, perfunctory, and of little use. They said the training would kick in. They told her she would have untapped reserves. That she would be fine.

  Clearly they’d never expected her to be kidnapped by lethal treasure hunters.

  Caitlyn wondered about that too. Beyond setting up advanced comms and eyes-on equipment she had participated in nothing. All she knew was what she’d overheard and that was very little.

  Would these men believe her?

  Sure, a cynical voice spoke up. And then they’ll let you take a shower, prepare you a nice meal and send you on your way. Because that’s what killers and mercenaries always did.

  The sound of a key rattling in the door snapped her to attention. Adrenalin surged through her body and she sought to moderate it. She could feel how wild her eyes suddenly looked. So much for keeping it under wraps.

  A man entered, dressed conservatively in jeans and a faded leather jacket. Graying at the temples he wore his worry lines with dignity, with pride. Handsome, Caitlyn would have called him given a different venue, but here—menacing.

  “I’m Greg Coker,” he said quickly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

  Caitlyn hadn’t. The fear choked her voice but Coker read the answer in her eyes.

  “When did you join the little crew? I don’t recall you being there at the museum.”

  “Yesterday,” she said finally, proud the word came out without a stammer. “After they returned from the north. I’m just a techie.”

  “Yesterday?” Coker repeated. “Man, that’s some flat out bad luck, little lady. Not the best start to your new career. Letting yourself get abducted so easy. They won’t come for you, you know.”

  Caitlyn was unable to hide her worry. “What?”

  “It’s not Crouch’s style. Do you know him at all?”

  “Through reputation. He sounds better—”

  “Ah, but how did he earn that reputation? By taking the glory, the kudos. Not by wasting his time rescuing techies. You’re ours now to . . . do with as we please.”

  Coker’s hard smile speared her heart. An icy flush washed through her veins, making her forehead clammy. As if to prove his point Coker came forward and laid a hand on top of her head, stroking the short black hair. Caitlyn felt the breath catch in her throat.

  “Please . . .”

  “Tell me what you know.” Coker backed off a few steps, gauging her reaction. “It will go easier for you.”

  Caitlyn balked. The fear overruled her, making every muscle tremble. For a few seconds she was out of control, then managed to slip inside herself and gain a little outward dignity. In the deeper confines of her mind she delved into the dreadful, unprecedented event that had devastated her world only weeks ago. She sought its ugliness, its vile evil. What could be worse? Certainly not her present predicament.

  And all made even crueler by the knowledge that it was her parents. Or more precisely her—

  “That’s better.” Coker interrupted her nightmare. “Speak now.”

  “I . . . I joined yesterday. I don’t know anything.”

  Coker’s face turned nasty, but his eyes appealed to her. “Not good enough. You must tell me something. You must have heard something.”

  Caitlyn stared at him. This scenario suddenly didn’t seem right. She’d never been the best at reading people, but Coker was acting as if he was playing a scene. Performing for some hidden watcher.

  She turned hard in her chair, managed to glance quickly over her shoulder. Sure enough a small silver camera with a black lens was mounted on the rear wall, overlooking the scene. She turned back to Coker with new eyes.

  “You asked to interrogate me first?”

  Coker immediately rubbed his nose, using his closed hand to hide his lips. “They can’t hear us. But they see everything. Please . . . I’m your only chance. I can’t stand what they’ll do to you weighing on my conscience.” He finished with a snarl, shouting “Now!” at her for the benefit of the hidden watchers.

  “All I know is their names and the treasure they’re chasing.” Caitlyn found her anxiety lessening now as Coker presented himself more as a covert ally. “And that they have a map.”

  Coker bit his lips. “We know about that. It’s what they were told to look for.”

  “Look. You’re clearly not with them. Why are you doing this?”

  Coker’s face took on a stressed expression and all the light left his eyes. He carefully placed a hand on each of her knees and crouched down between them so that he could look up at her. “The camera can’t see me down here. Pretend I’m hurting you somehow. Throw your head back.”

  Caitlyn performed admirably as Coker continued.

  “In short, I’m also a prisoner and have to do whatever the boss wants. I hated attacking Michael, doing everything in my power to botch the operation whilst still appearing to implement their plan. I hate everything about this entire operation. But I’m also the one to blame for it. Solomon, he’s a parasite but a rich one.”

  “Solomon’s your boss?”

  “Yeah. Underworld bottom crawler. Leeches onto people’s mistakes and makes them pay big time.” Coker paused, stricken for a second as if dredging up a terrible memory, then shook it off. “Look, we don’t have much time. If I don’t get my ass out there soon with something juicy they’re gonna send the worst of the worst in here. Please tell me you’ve got something you can tell me.”

  “Get me out then. Get yourself out.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” Coker hissed. “Shit, I used to be a field agent, lady. But even if I could take them out” —he shook his head, tears fighting to spill from his eyes— “they have me in other ways. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Caitlyn stared at him. Coker was a defeated man. How, she didn’t know. But he was an utter wreck, barely hanging on. Christ, she was in deep shit now.

  The door suddenly flew open. A man walked in, seeing Coker’s position and ordered him up. “Does girl know anything?” The man’s accent was thick, guttural and halting. Calling her ‘girl’ was depersonalizing to the extreme and a bad sign.

  “I haven’t finished yet.”

  “Get out, Coker. I will finish.”

  “Just give me a bit—”

  “Now.” The man came forward, spitting on the floor at Coker’s feet, his dark face twisted with hate; fists bunched. Caitlyn felt a spike of fear, of desperation. Unrealized dreams and visions swept before her eyes.

  I’m dead.

  Coker, to his credit, stood his ground. “I am in charge here, Dingo. Let me do my fucking job.”

  Dingo snarled, practically shaking with anger. The body armor he wore vibrated along with him, its many pockets and kn
ives quivering too. He grasped a baton that sat in his holster like a short sword. “You have till I find cow prod,” he said with an emotionless glance at Caitlyn. “Then, I don’t care. We do it my way.” The sudden calm demeanor was scarier than the anger.

  Coker watched him leave. “That guy’s unmanageable. Any man in my unit would’ve buried him by now.”

  “Please.” Caitlyn felt the fear spreading through her once again, a cold deluge of anticipated horror. “What can we do?”

  Coker turned to her, body closed and expression as cold as arctic ice. “I can’t help you now. It’s a fucked up, last chance world, lady. Tell me something before that madman returns.”

  TWELVE

  Crouch knew exactly what was at stake. Wasting no time he placed a fast call to Armand Argento, the Interpol agent.

  “We have a major problem.” Crouch quickly outlined the situation, unaware of the hour where Argento was and knowing it would not be an issue. “We don’t know the name of the South African. But we do know he’s employing local muscle, one part highly mediocre and the other part highly skilled. That many men, someone’s gotta know something. Plus,” he described the tattoo and attached it to an e-mail. “On its way.”

  Argento, speaking through an open line, said, “Got it, amico mio. Ah, but you owe me yet again. That is five is it not? Or six? No mind. What it is, is what it is. No?”

  Crouch thought it best not to interrupt the man known as the Jabbering Venetian in full flow.

  “So again we go off the book. You and your friends. You would not win so well without me, no?” Thankfully Argento always worked as he talked, which was one of the reasons he got an awful lot done. “But Caitlyn, you must help her, Michael. I feel guilty, mortified, even dirty to have sent her into the hands of the enemy.”

  “It’s not your fault, Armand. If any it’s mine.”