Page 25 of The Dauntless (Spy Girl 5)
Or so he was told.
Did his informant in British intelligence lie to him? Is Dupree really alive? Did they interrogate him? Did Dupree cave under pressure and tell them about the rings, the Alpha vault, and their plan?
The leader squints his eyes. No. They would have asked how he came to possess the bombs, not asked about some old ring.
That leaves two possibilities.
Dupree faked his death and changed his alliance, or there is a traitor in his midst.
Three long strides across the room bring him to a bar cart where he pours himself a scotch while considering his options. He takes a fortifying sip and then grabs the phone, sending out a secure text in code, asking each member to verify via time-stamped photo that they are in possession of their ring.
The men quickly respond as he opens a secret compartment in his desk. Ares Von Allister’s ring is still resting in the fraying velvet box, waiting to be presented to his son. He considered inviting Ari to their table in Rome during the last Society meeting, so he could witness the perfection of his father’s brilliant plan but ultimately voted to wait to invite both Ari and Lorenzo Vallenta to take their rightful places at the table after the culling event. The youth of today tend to be too liberal, and they can’t risk strife in the organization. They will, however, be presenting Hillford’s ring to another political powerhouse later this week. As the Speaker of the House, he’s next in line for the US presidency after the vice president—something they might need to make happen.
The leader sits in his chair, leaning back and remembering when Ares came to him six years ago, worried about being under government surveillance. Of course, he wasn’t the leader at that point. Just a member, like Ares. And a friend.
“Don’t do anything illegal,” he joked. “In fact, bore them with your life. They’ll stop caring.”
But he must not have been convincing because, a few days later, Ares gave him the ring for safekeeping and then became a recluse. He wishes the man were here now because he was brilliant at seeing all sides of an equation and predicting the correct outcome. He would have known what to do.
After confirming that all rings but Dupree’s are accounted for, including making a call to his paid informant at the Royal Montrovian Vault, the leader makes a quick trip to the Victoria and Albert Museum, just to be sure.
It’s upon leaving the museum that he’s struck with another possibility—that McClellan, his sergeant at arms who reported the breach, is lying, using the missing ring to place blame on the deceased Dupree and stealing the vault’s contents for himself.
He quickly calls another member, his second-in-command, one he trusts as much as he did Ares. “I need you to meet me at the airport immediately. We’re going to Iraq.”
We’re about halfway back to the base when I notice movement out of the corner of my eye. “What’s that—” is all I get out of my mouth before our vehicle starts taking on fire from a high-power rifle.
“Get down!” driver Steve yells as a bullet pierces the back window.
“I thought you said this car was armored!” Viktor yells back, ducking down as Steve swerves, smartly doing evasive maneuvers to give the shooters a more difficult-to-hit target.
“It is,” Dale says, pulling his gun out but not returning fire, “but only to a B5 level. It can handle automatic weapon fire, like the AK-47, but not the higher calibers.”
“That’s not good,” Peter yells as two of our tires are hit.
I assume they are run flat, but at this rate, the vehicle will be disabled in no time.
“The old palace ruins!” I say, seeing them ahead. “Can you make it there, so we can get some cover?”
“You read my mind,” Steve says. “You kids, keep your heads down. I’m going to drive behind one of the walls. We’ll quickly get out, access the weapons we have in the back, and call for help.”
“I’m already on that.” Dale puts a phone up to his ear just as he’s shot in the neck. Blood arcs out of the artery, pumping with each beat of the man’s heart.
Viktor curses as he leans over and tries to stop the bleeding. “You’ll be okay, man,” he says, but I know he won’t be leaving this vehicle.
Steve hits the brakes, pulling behind what’s left of a thick stone outer wall.
Knowing I have only a few moments, I roll over the seat to the cargo hold, kick out what’s left of the window, and climb out. Steve hits the lock, causing the back door to swing open. I pull up a dark blanket to reveal an assortment of weapons.
“Thank goodness we have more than a pistol each,” I mutter.
“Did you really think I’d come to Iraq and not be prepared?” Viktor runs up next to me with Peter and Steve. “My dad sells this shit.”
I toss an automatic weapon, complete with battle sling, to each guy and then put the strap over my head.
“The shooting has stopped,” I whisper.
“That’s bad,” Steve says, sticking his head out around the wall, only to have it blown off.
“Oh my God,” Peter says, “I think I’m going to puke.”
“You can puke, just don’t pass out,” Viktor says and then turns to me. “My security is dead, and I’m in a shoot-out with a girl who has fired a gun only once and a guy who doesn’t like getting dirt under his nails. We’re screwed.”
“And the enemy knows our exact position. We need to move,” I say. “Follow me.”
Surprisingly, they listen.
I lead them deeper into the ruins, through what were probably once large, opulent rooms. We move carefully over scattered piles of rubble, including boulder-sized pieces of walls.
We’ve just gotten to our destination, what is left of a fireplace and the thickest remnant I could find, when automatic fire skitters around us.
“They know where we are!” Peter yells. “It’s time to return their fire! Take some of those bogeys out!”
I laugh in the midst of it all. “I think bogeys are supposed to refer to an enemy warplane.”
“Whatever,” he says. “They’re the bad guys in this situation.”
He nudges the barrel of his gun outside the edge of the wall and starts firing. Viktor does the same from the other side, yelling at me to stay put in the middle.
I’ve done thousands of online simulations, many involving ambush scenarios, but this is different. It’s not just me. Peter and Viktor could get killed. While they both know how to shoot, they don’t seem to understand the subtle difference between shooting and firing with purpose.
I take my phone out, praying it can find a satellite to make the connection.
This time, there is no weird voice and no question about who answers.
“Are you near the TerraSphere? In Iraq?” he asks incredulously, obviously tracking me.
“Yes. I’m with Peter Prescott and Viktor Nikolaevich. We were ambushed and are taking fire. They’ve killed our two-man security team, and our car doesn’t provide enough protection to keep driving. Our odds are bad. We’re up against eight fully loaded men, two armored vehicles, and bigger weaponry.”
He quickly recovers from his shock. “I can scramble a team from the nearby military base, but you know as well as I do, it will be over before they get there.” His voice becomes calm, reassuring, monotone. “X, do you remember what I used to tell you in situations like these?”
“That I’m the spark?”
“Yes,” he says. “That starts the firestorm.”
I nod, close my eyes, and slip the phone into my pocket so that I can continue to be tracked. I imagine Lorenzo seeing my bullet-riddled body. I don’t want that, so while the boys continue to volley fire, I back up and assess my options.
We are pinned down.
Our enemies know it won’t take us long to run out of ammo, especially with the way in which Peter and Viktor are going through theirs.
Our flanks are exposed, and when the men surround us, which they might already be doing, we’ll be dead.
Or worse.
I lean over and give each boy a kiss on the cheek, which startles them. “Stop shooting at air. You’ll run out of ammo. Shoot only to kill. I have a secret to tell you.”
“Now?” Viktor yells. “It’s not really the time for—”
“I’m X. On Battleground.”
“What?” both boys say, their eyes getting big.
“I know this isn’t a video game, but—”
“Huntley, you can’t!” Peter exclaims.
“I’d rather die than be captured. Men like that do horrible things to women.”
