Dark Vector (with Graham Brown) by Clive Cussler

Author:Clive Cussler [Cussler, Clive]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller
ISBN: 9780593419670
Publisher: G.P. Putnam’s Sons; Penguin Random House
Published: 2022-05-24T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 32

The sound of their own footsteps pounding metal stairs echoed off the concrete walls as Kurt and Joe raced up the fire escape toward the roof. They pushed open the door at the top, breathing hard but ready to take the fight to whomever they found.

The roof was empty but not silent.

“That’s a helicopter,” Joe said.

Kurt heard it as well. “This way.”

They worked their way across the roof. The northeast corner came into view just as the helicopter began taking fire. It dropped away and vanished into the night, leaving several figures cowering behind a crane at the edge of the roof. They were trading shots with a group hidden around the curve of the building. “Looks like Yan and her friends missed the last flight out.”

The sound of the helicopter faded rapidly. Whatever payoff Emmerson had promised the pilot, it likely wasn’t enough to fly into a combat zone.

“Something tells me he’s not coming back,” Joe said. “If we get Degra out of her hands, he’d owe us a giant favor. We might even be able to get him out of here to better accommodations. The kind provided free by the CIA.”

Kurt was thinking the same thing. Number one rule when an operation goes sideways—grab the asset and get out. And this operation had gone about as sideways as it was possible to go. “Great idea, but we need to get CIPHER’s men out of here before we offer our assistance.” He pulled the cork out of the liter of Speyside. “Any chance you’ve got a light?”

Joe produced a Zippo lighter that he carried with him everywhere. “And I thought you were saving that bottle to make a toast.”

“Who says I’m not?”

As Joe held the lighter, Kurt threaded the napkin down into the whiskey. It turned a dark amber color as it soaked up the heated 130 proof alcohol. “This has to be the most expensive Molotov cocktail in history.”

“I figured you were warming it next to that candle for a reason,” Joe said.

“Heat makes the whiskey more volatile,” Kurt said. “More fumes mean a bigger explosion.”

Joe lit the napkin. As it burned, Kurt eased around the curve of the building, hugging the wall, until he spotted CIPHER’s men hiding behind some equipment.

The architecture of the roof, the position of the crane and the fact that Degra was still a hostage had brought the fighting to a standstill. Threats and demands were now being exchanged, punctuated by the occasional potshot.

“I count three of them,” Joe said. “Let’s hope they don’t have any more in reserve.”

With the napkin burning brightly, Kurt lobbed the thousand-dollar bottle of alcohol in a towering arc. It flew upward and dropped silently, smashing against the rooftop between CIPHER’s men, exploding outward in a ball of liquid flame.

CIPHER’s men scattered, covered in various amounts of burning whiskey.

Kurt rushed forward, tackling the nearest member of CIPHER’s team and slamming him to the deck. To put him out of action quickly, Kurt pounded his head against the rooftop several times.

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