Matt Drake 07 - Blood Vengeance by David Leadbeater Page B

the room two of them had choked, others had died instantly, three had thrown themselves at the President, and the rest had simply started blasting away.
    No mind, Kovalenko thought. It didn’t matter. They had all died. Coburn was unharmed, and even that hadn’t been a prerequisite of the op. The Blood King had shot several wounded men in the head, satisfying his blood lust for that part of the day. At last, life felt right again, almost worth living.
    “What do you want?” Coburn said again, interrupting his reverie.
    “What do you get man who has everything?” Kovalenko said in his thick Russian accent. “A president?” He chuckled. “Heads of men who have betrayed him? Imprisoned him? Well, that will do to start.”
    “You ’re still pursuing this damn vendetta? So that’s why you killed Jonathan. We should have ended you when we had the chance.”
    Kovalenko looked a little surprised. “ I see you are a fighter, not a whiner, yes? Well, it is good. I would hate to have to cut out your tongue so soon.”
    Gabriel caught his attention. “Dis ting is ready, mon. You want it over dere?”
    The Blood King grinned and moved over to sit by the President. From his waistband, he produced two huge guns and set them down on the table. The suite was situated on a high floor, prepped weeks ago before being cleared out for the inevitable Secret Service sweep. It was perfect for their needs, and just one of many rooms their enemies might figure they were occupying.
    Gabriel positioned a large-screen laptop on the table before him. The Motion Eye—its webcam—was already activated.
    “Will this stream live?”
    “When y’ push de button.” Gabriel indicated the enter key. “You will broadcast to YouTube, and after that Hulu, UStream, Blinkx and a hundred others. De right channels have been informed dat a broadcast be imminent.”
    “They will not try to shut it down?”
    Gabriel shrugged. “Unlikely. Dey need dis information. Dey might try to censor it. Gag us. But the American news channels, dey are bold, mon. Dey will sink dere claws in. Dey will get dere story.” Gabriel smiled widely, making the President’s eyes widen. Kovalenko didn’t blame him. The African was one scary, unhinged, but absolutely brilliant fellow and had shown his proficiency time and time again whilst plotting Coburn’s downfall from prison, through intermediaries to powerful men on the outside.
    Men who were just starting to rise in ways of their own.
    Kovalenko tossed back one more toast. “To Blood Vendetta.”
    Then he hit the enter key and positioned the webcam ’s eye so that only the President and he could be seen. As a broad smile broke out over the Blood King’s face, he calmly and noisily loaded his guns as the nation watched.
    He stared into the camera the whole time and spoke only four words. “Come and get me.”

CHAPTER EIGH TEEN
     
     
    “Fuck.”
    Alicia Myles slammed her phone down on the bedside table and shook Lomas. When the bearded biker didn’t twitch a muscle, Alicia sat up and delivered a hard blow to his ribs.
    “ Urrghhh,” Lomas groaned, coming out of a foggy sleep. “Let me sleep. What—”
    “Get the fuck up,” Alicia was already shrugging on her clothes. “Or I ’ll squeeze your balls until your eyes pop.”
    Lomas rolled over . “Again? I didn’t even enjoy it the first time.”
    “Come on. Drake called. The bloody Blood King escaped. There ’ll be a vendetta out on me, you and the entire crew.”
    “The bloody Blood King? Is that Kovelanko’s crazy brother or something?”
    Alicia sat down to buckle her boots. “Just hurry.”
    “Christ, Myles,” Lomas leaned on an elbow, watching her. “There’s always a vendetta out on us. We’re bikers, for shit’s sake, every one of us a one-percenter. What’s so different about this vendetta?”
    A one- percenter was a biker belonging to that small ratio of bikers who didn’t abide by the law. Alicia turned to Lomas and, as she had