Kingdom of Bones (Sigma Force #16)

Tucker sighed his relief.


That was too close.

He turned to the others. “Kane’s off again. But he’ll need a few minutes to lead the patrols out of our way. After that, we should be able to make it to the dock.”

“I don’t think we’ve got those extra minutes,” Frank warned and punctuated it with a few spats of rifle fire directed toward the square.

Men shouted in surprise from that direction. Shadows danced out of view. But such discouragement would not last long.

Frank knew it, too. “We’re outgunned and outmanned and too out in the open. We’re better off taking our chances in the forest.”

“Hang on,” Monk said, stepping closer. “Tucker, do you have any more grenades?”

He patted his belt. “Two frags, four flash-bangs.”

Monk tucked his pistol into his waistband and held out a palm. “Good. I need to blow a hole in something.”

Tucker unclipped one of the tiny explosive charges from his belt and passed it over. Monk frowned at its diminutive size.

“They’re meant more for distraction,” Tucker explained. “But, in a pinch, they’ll do some damage.”

Frank fired his rifle again.

“I’d say we’re in that pinch,” Monk said. “What’s the delay after triggering it?”

“Preset for fifteen seconds. But I—”

“That’ll do.” Monk groaned as he swung away. “Still, we’ll have to haul ass.”

Tucker watched the man sprint toward a stone-block building and kick through the door. An eruption of hoots, calls, and screams announced his trespass. Monk vanished for several breaths, then rushed back toward them, waving an arm.

“Run!” he shouted. “Get into the forest.”

The others immediately took off, as if they knew what Monk had done. Tucker didn’t have time to inquire and followed. Frank kept watch on the group’s six, sporadically firing wildly behind them. By the time they got under the jungle canopy, Frank had emptied his weapon and scowled at it in frustration.

Then a sharp blast echoed from the cement-block structure.

“Get deeper,” Monk urged.

They obeyed, burying themselves farther into the forest.

Tucker sidled up to Monk. “What did you do back there?”

The man simply shrugged. “Enlisted an ally. As they say, the enemy of your enemy is your friend.”

Tucker frowned—then heard a screech that iced his blood. It was savage, full of rage, and distinctly leonine. He glanced back.

What the hell . . .

Men began to scream, both in terror and in agonized bloody cries. Gunfire erupted into a panicked firefight. Whatever Monk had freed, it was clearly tearing into the forces back there.

“I’d say that buys us some time,” Frank said.

Monk pointed ahead. “Tucker, get us to the dock before our new enlistee catches our scent, too.”

Tucker led the way. Despite the threat behind them, he went slowly, making sure Kane had time to draw off as many patrols as possible. Once satisfied that the way was indeed clear, he set a faster pace.

He also subvocalized to his partner. “DISENGAGE. RETURN SILENT TO ALPHA POINT.”

They crossed the rest of the forest without incident. Lights glowed ahead, marking the riverside pier. Tucker had them hold back, while he scouted ahead. He reached the pillbox that guarded the dock. A body lay sprawled in a bloody ruin, proof that those tiny explosive charges still packed plenty of punch. Kane had planted that first egg just behind the man before running off and leading the patrols in a wild-goose chase.

Tucker searched to make sure no one else was about, then slunk to the pillbox. He crossed to a glass-and-steel case that held a line of boat keys. He used a dagger to break the case’s lock, then gathered all of the fobs.

Staying low, he whistled an all-clear to the others.

They hurried out of the forest.

As Frank joined him, his friend eyed the Kord machine gun with appreciation. He tossed aside his empty rifle and set about lifting the heavy weapon from its stanchion, dragging up its belt of large cartridges. “This is more like it.”

Monk grinned. “I know a big lug who would be green with envy right now.”

“What are we doing?” Charlotte asked, her eyes glassy under the sodium lamp.

“Just waiting on one more,” Tucker muttered.

As if summoned by his words, a form broke free of the forest and rushed to his side. “About time you got here, Kane.”

The dog huffed and bumped him.

Charlotte looked aghast. “That’s Kane? I thought you brought an army with you.”

He patted his partner’s flank. “I did.”

Jameson swallowed and pointed. “Which boat do we take?”

Tucker had already picked one out. “C’mon.”

He led the group to the far end of the dock, where a sleek black-and-red cigarette boat was moored. The carbon-fiber racing shell looked like a dagger floating in the dark water. Tucker wanted something swift enough to clear the jamming radius around the island as quickly as possible.

This ought to do it.

He got the two doctors aboard and followed behind them. As Monk and Frank freed the mooring lines, he rushed to the helm and fished out the proper fob, a matching black and red to the boat. He keyed the engine, earning a deafening growl from its beast of an engine.

The challenge, unfortunately, was answered from the forest.

A scream of fury drew all eyes to the foot of the dock. From the forest, a wall of shadows pushed into view. The cat was massive, all muscle and bristling fur. It howled at them, revealing a pair of scimitars for fangs.

Dear god . . .

Monk and Frank threw themselves aboard. Frank struggled to get the stolen machine gun turned toward the beast.

Kane remained on the dock, facing the cat. The shepherd lowered his front end, lips snarling with threat. His hackles were a trembling mane around his throat.

“TO ME,” Tucker ordered.

Kane ignored him, never taking his eyes off the cat, likely reacting to instincts buried in his bones.

“NOW!” Tucker commanded with a firm shout.

That’s not a battle you’ll win.

Still, Kane remained planted, staring down the beast.

“Just go,” Jameson urged.

Tucker refused. He would not leave Kane under any circumstances.

Luckily, the stalemate ended in a most explosive manner. A rocket-propelled grenade burst from the forest and struck the pillbox. The blast sent sandbags flying high into the air, amidst a whirlwind of smoke and flames.

The cat leaped to the side. It dove headlong into the river with a huge splash and paddled heavily for the far bank.

Unchallenged now, Kane turned with his tail high and hopped into the boat.

With all aboard, Tucker swung around and shoved the throttle forward. The black-and-red dagger shot from the dock, throwing Tucker back against the helm’s seat.

Christalmighty, this is fast.

The boat sliced across the water, gaining speed. Tucker aimed downriver, using the current to propel them faster versus fighting it upstream. Once they were far enough away, he tossed the rest of the stolen key fobs overboard.

Let’s see them try to follow us now.

Monk joined him, yelling to be heard over the engine. “What’s next?”

Tucker pictured Ndaye leaning on the helicopter. “Time to call in the cavalry.”

Monk frowned past the stern of the boat.

“What’s wrong?” Tucker asked.

“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.” Monk faced him. “Not when it comes to the bastard who’s running this outfit.”


8:50 P.M.

On the second floor of the guesthouse, Nolan De Coster paced the length of his office. He tapped a hard fist against his thigh. His jaw ached from clenching for so long.

After the first volley of blasts, security measures had locked down his private room. Metal shutters had dropped across the balcony. Likewise, large sliding bolts had further reinforced the office door, which had a two-inch steel core.

Though he was closed in, a bank of monitors hidden behind a panel offered him a view of every corner of the compound. He had watched as the site had been raided. Even with so many cameras, it was still difficult to discern who led the attack or how many were out there.

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