Read Online The Tomb of the Gods (Matt Drake 4) by David Leadbeater - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Leadbeater
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taxi pulled away.
“An awful lot of flat ground,” Alicia said warily. “You sure about this, Drakey?”
“I didn’t choose it,” he said testily.
The door opened and Torsten Dahl stood there. The big Swede had a lopsided grin on his face.
“Aye up, it’s the mad Swede,” Drake said with warmth in his voice. “I remember that same stupid grin being on yer face when you stood on the edge of Odin’s tomb, staring down at his bones.”
“As did you, my friend.” Dahl came forward. “When I finally let you have a look.”
The pair shook hands. “The bloody A-team,” Dahl said. “Back together.”
“Well, by all accounts,” Drake said seriously, “we’re gonna be needed.”
“Jesus!” Alicia said, brushing them aside. “Make sure his thong doesn’t cut your lip, Drake, when you pull it down with your teeth.”
Drake stared after her. “Bitch always had a way with words.”
Mai followed Alicia. “Let’s see who else came to the party, shall we?”
Drake let Dahl get his back and followed Mai through the ramshackle door. Once inside, the building abruptly changed, everything looking more modernized. A fortified, brick-lined passageway led to another door—this one a big, riveted hard steel affair—with a nearby keypad. Hayden was waiting for them, and after giving them all a brief, tense greeting, she entered a sixteen-digit pin to unlock the door.
She ushered them through. Drake tried to shake off his ideas and plans for the forthcoming trip to the SAS facility in Luxembourg and concentrate on the job at hand. Wells’s material might hold the key to Alyson’s killer, but it might also blow the lid off the Shadow Elite—an organization even now immorally involved in trying to acquire the doomsday weapon that might exist inside the third and final tomb of the gods.
He saw Ben immediately. The young man stood uncomfortably in one corner of the big room, next to his sister, a pint of coke in hand and looking like the geek hanging out at the school disco. The bar behind him glistened with liter bottles full of the sweet nectar of forgetfulness. Drake’s eyes lingered a moment too long.
Dahl clapped him on the back. Hard. “Check that out, mate.”
Alicia had sashayed into the middle of the room, like a capable and confident model surveying an invited audience that, for some reason, never understood it was really the prey, until she came face to face with Daniel Belmonte, the British master thief, her ex-lover.
Drake could hear them speaking. Belmonte, to his credit, had recovered quickest. “Always good to. . .bump into you, Myles.”
Drake saw Hayden watching them too. And Ben watching Hayden. Such an odd rectangle of ex and current lovers.
Alicia didn’t miss a beat though. “The only thing you’ll be stealing tonight, Belmonte, is glances.” And she walked right by him, continuing toward the bar without looking back.
Mai had watched the exchange too. “She’s good. Though I’d never tell her.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Miss Kitano,” Dahl told her, a big smile lighting his face.
Drake took a moment to study the room. Clearly, this was some kind of local police safe house. Someone, Gates or Hayden or even Dahl, had probably called in a favor, an occurrence that would probably be happening a lot during the next few days. As he thought about it, Drake decided it had been Dahl. The Swede was the least likely of them all to pop up on an enemy’s radar and no doubt had a vast amount of friends and colleagues in mainland Europe. The room was furnished with a couple of big sofas, a solid oak table long enough to seat a horde of Vikings, and at least three makeshift beds in the corners. The bar, of course, was the main feature, especially for those having to deal with a terrible new knowledge.
Dahl took out his wallet and took a moment to study a picture of his two sons and his wife. Still holding it, he turned to Drake. “This is why we fight,” he said. “This is
“An awful lot of flat ground,” Alicia said warily. “You sure about this, Drakey?”
“I didn’t choose it,” he said testily.
The door opened and Torsten Dahl stood there. The big Swede had a lopsided grin on his face.
“Aye up, it’s the mad Swede,” Drake said with warmth in his voice. “I remember that same stupid grin being on yer face when you stood on the edge of Odin’s tomb, staring down at his bones.”
“As did you, my friend.” Dahl came forward. “When I finally let you have a look.”
The pair shook hands. “The bloody A-team,” Dahl said. “Back together.”
“Well, by all accounts,” Drake said seriously, “we’re gonna be needed.”
“Jesus!” Alicia said, brushing them aside. “Make sure his thong doesn’t cut your lip, Drake, when you pull it down with your teeth.”
Drake stared after her. “Bitch always had a way with words.”
Mai followed Alicia. “Let’s see who else came to the party, shall we?”
Drake let Dahl get his back and followed Mai through the ramshackle door. Once inside, the building abruptly changed, everything looking more modernized. A fortified, brick-lined passageway led to another door—this one a big, riveted hard steel affair—with a nearby keypad. Hayden was waiting for them, and after giving them all a brief, tense greeting, she entered a sixteen-digit pin to unlock the door.
She ushered them through. Drake tried to shake off his ideas and plans for the forthcoming trip to the SAS facility in Luxembourg and concentrate on the job at hand. Wells’s material might hold the key to Alyson’s killer, but it might also blow the lid off the Shadow Elite—an organization even now immorally involved in trying to acquire the doomsday weapon that might exist inside the third and final tomb of the gods.
He saw Ben immediately. The young man stood uncomfortably in one corner of the big room, next to his sister, a pint of coke in hand and looking like the geek hanging out at the school disco. The bar behind him glistened with liter bottles full of the sweet nectar of forgetfulness. Drake’s eyes lingered a moment too long.
Dahl clapped him on the back. Hard. “Check that out, mate.”
Alicia had sashayed into the middle of the room, like a capable and confident model surveying an invited audience that, for some reason, never understood it was really the prey, until she came face to face with Daniel Belmonte, the British master thief, her ex-lover.
Drake could hear them speaking. Belmonte, to his credit, had recovered quickest. “Always good to. . .bump into you, Myles.”
Drake saw Hayden watching them too. And Ben watching Hayden. Such an odd rectangle of ex and current lovers.
Alicia didn’t miss a beat though. “The only thing you’ll be stealing tonight, Belmonte, is glances.” And she walked right by him, continuing toward the bar without looking back.
Mai had watched the exchange too. “She’s good. Though I’d never tell her.”
“Your secret is safe with me, Miss Kitano,” Dahl told her, a big smile lighting his face.
Drake took a moment to study the room. Clearly, this was some kind of local police safe house. Someone, Gates or Hayden or even Dahl, had probably called in a favor, an occurrence that would probably be happening a lot during the next few days. As he thought about it, Drake decided it had been Dahl. The Swede was the least likely of them all to pop up on an enemy’s radar and no doubt had a vast amount of friends and colleagues in mainland Europe. The room was furnished with a couple of big sofas, a solid oak table long enough to seat a horde of Vikings, and at least three makeshift beds in the corners. The bar, of course, was the main feature, especially for those having to deal with a terrible new knowledge.
Dahl took out his wallet and took a moment to study a picture of his two sons and his wife. Still holding it, he turned to Drake. “This is why we fight,” he said. “This is
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