Matt Drake 11 - The Ghost Ships of Arizona by David Leadbeater Page B

into an upstanding wall. The impact knocked the breath out of him.
    “Crap.”
    Smyth started firing fast and accurately, if the screams were anything to go by. Drake ducked behind another wall, seeing the others pressed behind vertical pillars of bricks. Even then a bullet smashed off stone, sending slivers and dust right past Yorgi’s nose. Drake added to Smyth’s firepower, sending shadows dipping to the ground, but the sheer numbers of their attackers soon proved too much.
    Yorgi ducked out of hiding, as did Lauren, both emptying their clips. At last they saw an end to the chasing group, but those who still lived were suddenly within the stone dwelling. Drake smashed a man to the ground and elbowed another. Still another leapt at him, bowling him over. His head hit a fallen pile of rubble, sharp edges splitting skin. For a moment there were more stars in the sky than before. He rolled away, groaning. A man landed where he had been, cursing. Drake shot up randomly into the night sky. In another moment Yorgi was at his side, new clip loaded and in full use. Drake sat up too fast, taking a few seconds to allow his head to stop spinning. The man who had initially struck him knelt at his side, staring, seemingly also dazed. For a second neither he nor Drake made a move and then they both exploded into action.
    Drake punched an ear, then the neck twice with lightning strikes. His opponent tried to twist away. Drake grabbed his arm and spun him back. The man rolled but now with a small handgun tucked within the meat of his enormous left paw. Instant reflexes born of years of battle saved Drake’s life. The quick shot zinged past his head and on toward the moon. Acting as best he could in the dire situation he jumped atop the gun hand, preparing to take bullets to the vest. As Dahl would say— they’re only bullets. It’s not as if it’s a fucking cruise missile.
    The man’s hand was trapped though, the gun pointed at the desert floor. Drake took advantage and smashed down until the eyes glazed and then, on Yorgi’s warning, rolled clear. Another man landed hard an instant later, this one already shot dead. Drake twisted around to take in the scene.
    Stragglers were now coming toward the crumbling structure, but these more warily and spread out. Drake counted maybe five shadows and knew there might be more. Smyth picked one off as he watched. To a man all the others fell to the floor. Were there more out there in the crawling darkness?
    “Sit rep?” he called.
    “All good,” Smyth came back. “And well rested.”
    Drake allowed himself a grim smile. The dilemma was whether to break cover now they’d stumbled across the ruin’s moderate security. If the Pythians had more men in the area they could easily ambush the ruin from all sides. Probably best to keep moving.
    “Fall out,” he whispered. “Quietly.”
    Smyth withdrew, ever the soldier. Lauren followed as carefully as she could. Karin waited for Drake who fired off three more bullets before loading his final mag.
    “We should kill these bastards,” Karin whispered. “All of them.”
    “I’m not entirely sure we could,” Drake said evenly. “Live to fight another day, love. They caught us by surprise tonight. It won’t happen again.”
    “I hate to leave even one alive.”
    “That’s not the way we do things and never will be.” Drake, staring up, noticed a faint lightening of the skies. “So come on. Dawn’s coming. They used the dark to ambush us; now we’ll use the last of it to escape from them.”
    He pulled Karin along, worried now that all the recent suffering might have changed her disposition forever. The team used several minutes of enemy misunderstanding to open a substantial gap, picking up pace the further they left the ruin behind.
    Drake felt for a compass. “Time to head back to town and stock up before we even think about heading out again. Put this all down to a bad loss. We should catch up with Hayden too, see how they’re