HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (38 page)

BOOK: HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2)
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‘It was too obvious,’ said Coleman. ‘You were looking for a more complicated answer.’

Neve turned and pushed the files into the large pocket behind her backrest.

‘About half the human population has type O blood,’ she said. ‘That’s why only half the ship was affected, even though every single person on the ship was exposed.’

‘Does that help us?’ Coleman asked.

‘It means the drug was almost finished. That’s why it’s so valuable to Christov.’

Coleman noticed something overhead.

The cameras had moved.

The pattern had changed.

‘They’ve found us,’ said Coleman. ‘We have to go.’

Neve grabbed the wheels of her chair. ‘I’m ready.’

Coleman knew the casino floor’s layout.

‘I can get us out, but you need to stay right behind me. Stay silent. When I move, you move. I want your wheels up against my heels, understand?’

Neve nodded.

Coleman dashed to the roulette tables. The moment he stopped he felt Neve behind him.
Good
.

Now where are they coming from?

Beside the closest roulette table stood a huge white pillar like something from ancient Athens. In one quick motion Coleman looked around the pillar.

He saw plenty.

At least thirty people were sweeping the casino.

They approached from every direction.

Coleman drew his heavy Colt 1911 pistol. This was the only real firearm his team had brought on board.

He was happy to have it now. He hadn’t shot any sick passengers, but enemies with guns were fair game.

‘Which way?’ whispered Neve.

Coleman blocked out all the flashing lights and distractions. He recalled the casino’s floor plan.

‘Let’s go,’ he whispered.

Bullets pounded the marble column as Coleman ran from cover. He didn’t stop. Bending low, he raced through the roulette tables.

Neve was right behind him.

Behind her appeared a path of destruction as three gunmen opened fire.

Glasses on tables shattered.

Stacks of betting chips flew apart.

Plush, velvet-lined tables and chairs collapsed behind Neve as through she were being pursued by invisible chainsaws.

Coleman glanced back and saw Neve bending forward and powering her wheels like an athlete.

The gunmen were firing fully automatic, barely controlling their weapons. Bullets began stuttering up columns and cutting across the high ceiling.

Almost there
, thought Coleman, glancing back at the worst possible moment.

Neve hadn’t kept up.

CRACK!

Coleman looked up.

Oh, Christ!

Suspended above the casino hung a gigantic stained glass masterpiece. At least forty feet across, the massive disk depicted two mermaids sitting on rocks.

As Coleman watched, those two mermaids came plummeting from the heavens toward Neve.

The gunmen weren’t firing wildly
, Coleman realized.
They were trying to drop that structure on us.

And it worked.

Coleman shouted.

Neve twisted to glance upward.

She can’t make it
, realized Coleman.
It’s falling too fast.

Neve suddenly changed the way she powered her chair. Instead of doubling right over to avoid gunfire, she pushed with all the power in her shoulders, arms and abdomen.

She had no choice.

Tons of glass and steel sped toward her.

She made one last powerful thrust toward Coleman.

She almost made it.

She came within inches of escaping from under the plummeting structure.

Coleman watched the edge of the gigantic glass disk smash down on Neve’s head with skull-crushing force.

He shielded his eyes as tons of glass and metal crashed into the casino floor.

It sounded like a building collapsing.

Coleman forced himself to look up.

Neve’s wheelchair rolled toward him. She lay slumped forward in her chair, hanging limply.

The chair rolled right up to Coleman. He stopped it with his hand.

She lay deathly still.

Coleman braced himself to look at her head. At where the glass had struck.

He wasn’t able to.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t because Neve straightened in her wheelchair and said, ‘Jesus Christ that was close.’

Coleman jerked back, barely believing his eyes.

‘I saw it hit you,’ he stuttered.

‘It hit the chair’s handles,’ explained Neve. ‘It would have flipped me backward if I hadn’t thrown my head forward at the last moment.’

Coleman stared at her in wonder. ‘Why were you slumped over like that?’

‘To look dead.’

‘Well, it worked,’ said Coleman. He shook his head in amazement.

‘Look out!’ pointed Neve.

Coleman spun and fired in one move.

The gunman was still raising his weapon when Coleman’s bullet tore through his stomach. The impact sent the man tumbling into a slot machine.

The crowded slot machines provided a labyrinth that Coleman could use to their advantage.

‘On my heels,’ he told Neve.

She nodded.

Coleman snatched up the gunman’s submachine gun. It was a Scorpion Evo. He was familiar with it.

‘Let’s go.’

They wove through the slot machines. Coleman didn’t pause once. He took every turn confidently. Christov’s men must have heard his pistol shot. They’d be among the slot machines in seconds.

There’s one more,
Coleman thought.

When he’d scanned the casino, he’d noticed
two
gunmen cutting through the slot machines.

He’d shot one.

Where’s the other one?

The slot machine beside Coleman answered his question. Bullets blasted apart the machine’s plastic and aluminum exterior. Sparks burst from it like mini-fireworks. One entire side of the machine flew apart, spewing coins all over the carpet.

Coleman glimpsed the gunman firing from between two machines before he ducked back into cover.

There he is.

He was close.

We have to keep moving. If we stop, we’re dead.

He scooped up a handful of coins and ran silently on the carpet toward the machine concealing the gunmen.

Just before reaching the gunman’s position, he threw the coins forward.

The coins clattered loudly against the machines near the gunman.

As the gunman looked at the coins, Coleman reached him.

The startled, distracted gunman swung his weapon around, but the moment he’d looked at the coins he was doomed.

Coleman fired the Scorpion Evo into his body at point blank range.

Now the gunman looked even more surprised. His eyes opened wide as he collapsed onto the soft carpet.

Coleman grabbed his radio.

‘Neve?’

‘I’m here. Which way?’

Coleman pointed.

He wove fast through the machines now, but ducked when roaring gunfire burst out across the casino again.

‘They’re not shooting at us,’ said Neve.

She was right. If all those guns were firing through the slot machines, they’d certainly know about it.

‘It’s the sick passengers,’ realized Coleman.

He had earlier mistaken the sick passengers for Christov’s men.

‘There are at least twenty sick passengers in the casino. They’re attacking Christov’s men.’

‘The gunfire will attract more,’ said Neve. ‘Now’s our chance.’

Coleman couldn’t agree more. They moved fast again, reaching the casino’s side exit.

Pausing for a moment in cover, Coleman listened to the conflict.

Over the gunfire and yelling he heard a strange sound. The intense -
fwooooooshing
- sound was accompanied by screams and the sound of panic.

Flamethrowers
, realized Coleman.

‘Oh, God!’ Neve covered her nose.

The stench hit Coleman.

He knew that smell.

He’d smelled it once before, and that was a very bad memory.

It was the smell of people on fire.

 

 

 

 

Justin pressed his back to the white pillar.

He and Christov stood just inside the casino entrance.

This is it! I have to do it now!

The last few minutes had been absolute mayhem. When they’d reached the casino, Christov had silently waved his men forward. He’d shoved Justin to the floor, lifting his flame pistol aggressively.

‘You move and I’ll cook you alive,’ he’d warned.

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