Dawn of the Knight: The Lance Rock Chronicles Volume 1.
Page 43
Chapter 26
They stood there in shock staring at me; a lone teenage boy holding two 9 mm pistols pointed at them. One of the men slowly moved his hand up to his front shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He took the still flaming acetylene torch out of Akako's hand, lit the cigarette with it, and then handed it back to him. After inhaling deeply, he glanced around at the other men and said something to them under his breath.
I sensed a slight, almost imperceptible movement out the corner of my left eye. Instinctively, I dropped to the floor as a shuriken with a dull thumping sound, buried itself in the wall where my head used to be! At the same time the men drew their weapons and opened up on me in a storm of gunfire!
I aimed both my guns at the tanks of acetylene and oxygen while blasting away at the hose connections—effectively destroying them. The tanks wobbled and then fell over while releasing the flammable gas with a violent hissing sound. I quickly rolled along the floor back to the basement stairs while ducking into the stairway just as the volatile mixture reached the lit cigarette. There was a thunderous explosion and fireball along with the screams of those who had been caught in it! I hurried up the stairs to find a spot of safety amidst the screaming and chaos emanating from below. I knew the fire wouldn't last long, though. The basement sprinkler system would eventually take care of it.
I switched on the micro radio headset to hear the sounds of confusion. Men were shouting one thing and then another. Next, I heard a commanding voice barking out orders. "Osamu and Torao come up to the house and help put the fire out. Carry the wounded and dead back to the beach! Kenta, turn the power in the house back on! Hook the winch up to the vault door and pull it off! I will take care of the intruder. NOW MOVE!"
That has to be Daitaro, I thought. I crouched behind a cabinet in the foyer while plotting out my next move and counting my ammunition. I was going to have to intercept the yakuza gang members on the beach. The girls however, were going to be hostages. Rescuing them was going to require both exact timing and precision. A minute later I had come up with a feasible plan. I stood up and then I cautiously moved toward one of the rear doors just as the lights in the house came back on. I was just beneath the upstairs balcony when suddenly out of nowhere, a black, shadowy figure came pouncing down upon me from above. I had a tenth of a second to analyze the situation and react. I held the two guns up crossed in front of me like a shield as Daitaro's ninjato swung down with enough force to cleave me in two!
There was a sharp metallic clang and a bright spark as the blade of his sword clashed against the barrels of my guns. The force of the impact sent a stinging, numbing pain from my hands down to my elbows. I cried out while dropping both guns. He too, gasped in pain as the ninjato went careening out of his hands to land somewhere in the room. I repeatedly opened and closed my fists—trying to restore feeling back into them. Then I heard a loud thumping sound from the basement. They had yanked the vault door off!
I glanced over at Daitaro in time to see him throwing something at me. I weaved, bobbed, and ducked behind furniture as shurikens, many travelling at over 65 miles per hour, were being launched in my direction! Upon finding an end table, I held it up in front of me like a shield as the last of his star-shaped projectiles penetrated almost all the way through! During this time he had been searching the room for his sword. After finally finding it, he confidently strode over to me. He was dressed in a black body suit. His face, except for his eyes, was covered in a mask. Night vision goggles rested atop his head. As he approached me, I removed Reina's two wakizashi swords from their sheaths. His eyes grew large in recognition.
"You… killed her," he remarked in English with a thick Japanese accent.
"No," I replied in Japanese. "She gave them to me of her own free will."
His eyes grew even larger in an expression of anger. "She has acted foolishly. When she talked about you, I recognized the look in her eyes. I should have known she would be too weak and emotional to complete her mission. She has betrayed me and she has also dishonored herself. For that she will die along with you."
"She will not die because I have sworn to protect her," I defiantly replied.
At this statement he cried out in fury and came swinging his ninjato at me with full force. I had studied both double edge sword and broadsword under Sifu Lu Tang, but I had never encountered an artist of the blade like I was now facing in Daitaro. His razor-honed sword was an extension of himself and he was a master of it. It was taking all my skill and training just to parry and deflect his blows. I wasn't sure how long I could maintain my defense before he broke through it to carve me up!
"Your katakiuchi is with Gunther Muller. Let the girls go," I reasoned while trying to catch my breath.
At this statement he halted his attack.
"I too, am after him. Join with me, and the two of us can take him down together," I suggested while still breathing heavily.
He studied me for a moment, lowered his sword, and then cautiously approached me.
"What you say is sensible; a partnership against a mutual enemy. I agree," he replied while extending his right hand.
As he drew near, I kicked him hard in the chest; driving him backwards. The electrodes that fired from the taser hidden under his right wrist went shooting out harmlessly into the air rather than into my body as he had intended! I noticed when kicking him that his body suit was composed of some kind of armored material. I grabbed the taser wires but he touched something on his wrist and they fell free just as I yanked on then. All at once, a call came over the micro headset.
"Oyabun?"
"What is it, Kenta?" replied Daitaro.
"We have removed the women from the vault. The vault also contains much gold and American currency!"
"How much?"
"Millions!"
"Take it!"
"We don't have room for it."
"The females; kill the oldest and the youngest. This will give you the room."
"NOOOOO!" I screamed while bolting towards the outside door.
As soon as I moved, Daitaro quickly lunged at me with his ninjato. I had just enough time to parry his attack before the stroke fell. The blow caught the top of the wakizashi in my left hand and broke it. Then I heard the sound of gunshots through the headphones!
If Daitaro had stabbed me in the heart, I would have felt no less pain than I felt at that very moment. I was instantly overcome with grief. Stacy, AJ, no, no, no! I thought with tears forming in my eyes. Then a murderous rage overtook me and I charged at him while viciously swinging my sword. He backpedaled while desperately trying to deflect my blows. I managed to force him back against a wall and knock his blade aside while driving my fingers hard into his throat.
He collapsed onto the floor while clutching his throat and gasping for breath. I raised the blade in my right hand with the intention of driving it through his skull. I had never in my life wanted to kill anyone as passionately as I now wanted to kill this young man! But I remembered my vow to Reina. Instead, while sobbing and trembling, I plunged the blade passed his head and into the floor. He looked into my eyes while shifting under me, drove his left knee hard into my solar plexus, and toppled me over.
I lay on the floor while clutching my stomach in pain with the wind knocked out of me. He quickly retrieved his ninjato and then defiantly stood over my prone body. After removing his mask, he spit on me with an expression of contempt in his eyes. "You are a spineless coward," he rasped. "Someone who does not have the stomach to kill should never engage in a fight to the death."
As he raised the blade to decapitate me, I had an instant flashback of the happier times that I had with Scott. Unexpectedly, he stopped, glanced to his right, and then quickly flipped backwards as I heard a rapid, clacking noise. It was the sound of a silenced machine gun being fired! Bullets sprayed the area. Daitaro twisted and spun around while darting out of the room as a man wearing a suit and ski mask gave pursuit.
I slowly got up and cautiously followed
in the direction they had gone. A quick reconnoiter revealed several bodies of dead yakuza members along with money and gold bars scattered on the basement floor. I came across the body of the masked machine-gunner. He had been stabbed but he was still alive. I picked up his machine gun. There was no sign of Daitaro or the girls. I ran outside to the backyard—now finding two more dead yakuza members along with two dead male Caucasians. All had been shot multiple times. A search of their bodies rewarded me with another silenced CZ 75 and two extra ammo clips. I made my way toward the front of the house and I came around the corner in time to see Stacy, Shannon, and AJ being forced into a car. They had been hooded and handcuffed. Several masked men were standing there with them and upon seeing me; they fired their silenced machine guns in my direction. I squatted down and returned fire—emptying the MP5SD's magazine and hitting two of them.
One of the unwounded gunmen shouted to the others. "We have what we came for! Let's get out of here!" The men piled into the car and into a second car which drove up with screeching tires. Then they peeled out of the driveway while taking the girls and their wounded comrades with them. The girls! I thought. I had never felt so relieved in my entire life than when I saw Stacy, Shannon, and AJ still alive! But how did Gunther's men know they were here? Reina must have been caught and told them. No, I didn't believe that. The only other person who knew they were staying here was Inspector Carter. I had a suspicious feeling about him from the moment we first met.
All of a sudden, I was overwhelmed by extreme panic! I had no idea where those men were going! There was only one slim chance to find out. I ran back to the yard and then over to where the wounded but still alive machine-gunner lay. I reached down and gently shook him. He moaned and opened his eyes.
"You're seriously hurt. Do you want to live?" I asked.
He stared at me.
"Listen to me. Your buddies have deserted you. They've left you for dead. I can get you the medical attention you need. DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?"
He slowly nodded his head yes.
"I'll help you if you help me. Where are they taking the girls?"
He looked at me and smiled sinisterly.
"Is it really worth your life for you not to tell me? Think about it. You're dying. You don't have much time left."
He closed his eyes and I shook him again, hard. "TELL ME!" I shouted.
"A deal," he gasped. "We have a deal?"
"Yes."
"Take me to a hospital."
"Tell me where the girls are, first."
"Okay… kid. There's a new… business development… on the outskirts of town, new construction. They're… taking them… there."
"Why? And where is it located?"
He smiled through gritted teeth and continued, "His daughters are going to be part of the new construction—permanently."
"Where is it?"
He was drifting in and out of consciousness and it took much patience on my part to piece together the address. Then without warning, his eyes rolled back into his head. He groaned and clutched my arm hard. His back arched, he gasped loudly, and then his body relaxed. I felt for a pulse but there was none. I reached into his jacket and removed his silenced Beretta M9 along with an extra ammo clip. After sticking the guns into the back of my pants and the extra clips into my pockets, I ran over to Shannon's car. I programmed the address into her GPS unit and I drove off. I pulled out Keith's smartphone and dialed 911. While ignoring the phone's low battery alarm, I told the 911operator that there had been a shootout and massacre at the Mitterhauser estate including information about Keith and him being poisoned. I also told them to send police, a SWAT team if possible; to the location I was now in route to.
I arrived 20 minutes later and I decided to park in an area that was out of sight. It was a new business complex surrounded by undeveloped land. There were four buildings. Three looked like they were completed but they had no lights on. The fourth was still under construction. Only the top floor of it was illuminated. Every other street light in the parking lot was lit. The edge of the tree line was about a football field away from the fourth building. That's where I now sat under the cover of darkness. Because of the lights in the parking lot, there was no way to approach the building without being spotted.
I desperately wanted the police to show up, but none arrived. The foundation of the building was dark including the main entranceway. If anyone was concealed there, I certainly couldn't tell. I now wished I would have taken Reina's night vision goggles! I sat down to rest and deliberate on what to do next. Then once again, fortune had my back. There was someone standing in the darkened main entranceway! In their absent-mindedness, they had lit a cigarette. I could see the microscopic point of light from my location. I placed the butt of the Beretta on a large boulder in front of me, took careful aim, and then immediately had a vivid recollection of a past incident that took place between Scott and me.
It was memorable because it had involved an argument between us. We were at his backyard shooting range in North Bay. I was engaged in target practice that day and I was in an ornery mood. I was blasting everything in sight when Scott came over and began reprimanding me for wasting ammunition.
"Why are you getting on my case?" I asked, perturbed. "We have thousands of rounds here to shoot with!"
"Lance, when I was on a mission we were given limited ammo. There's only so much equipment you can take and only so much ammunition you can carry. Do you know what that means?"
"No," I replied while thinking I couldn't have cared less.
"It means that every shot has to count. Every shot! I was instructed never to take a shot unless it was 100 percent accurate. From now on you are not going to waste any more ammo and you are not going to take any more shots unless you can guarantee me within reason that you are going to hit what you are aiming at!"
"You're joking, right?"
"I'm dead serious."
"Then you can take your gun back because you've just removed all the fun out of this exercise. I'm not an operative, I'm not on any mission, and I couldn't care less if I hit the target or not." And with that, I handed him the gun and started to walk back to the house.
He grabbed my arm hard and so I swung around to face him. I wondered if I could take him in a fight.
He relaxed his grip. "Lance, you're a great kid, a special kid," he remarked. "I know you keep hearing me say that over and over to you, but there is a reason I do. I want you to be the best and do your best, whatever it is your doing. It doesn't matter if it's sweeping floors or scoping a target from a mile away. Just do your best. I know we have thousands of rounds here and I know you like shooting. But having a mindset of wanting accuracy or perfection; there's nothing wrong with that. If you're going to shoot, be accurate. Hit what you're aiming at. Perfect the skill. Do it for you and for me. Am I really asking too much when I simply want you to do your best?"
"No," I quietly conceded.
He handed the gun back to me. "I want you to set up targets from 50 to 300 meters out and then I want you to review to me all the information a sniper has to take into account when firing."
"Okay, but 300 meters?"
"I didn't say you'd be using the pistol to try and make a shot like that."
"Okay. You had me nervous there for a second!" I replied while walking away to set up the target cans.
"But I didn't say you wouldn't either…"
I focused on the lit cigarette while relaxing my body and then calmly exhaling. In between heartbeats, I gently squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled with a clacking sound and I watched as a moment later, the pinpoint sized light fell to the ground. While crouching and running in a zigzag motion, I approached the building's entranceway. I examined the dead man's body and saw that the bullet had entered his mouth and then exited out from behind his left ear. From his right ear I removed the earpiece of the micro headset he was wearing. I put it on just as a routine radio check-in was being made.
"Davis?"
"Check.
"
"Jones?"
"It's quiet. Nothing going on here."
"Millard?"
There was no reply.
"Millard?"
I looked down at the dead man.
"Millard, check in!"
"This is Millard," I answered in an eerie, unearthly tone of voice. "I'm dead and I'm speaking to you from beyond the grave. I was a complete fool and lit a cigarette. The kid zeroed in on it and then shot me in the mouth from over 100 yards away! Move to the center of the parking lot, lay down your guns, and stand with your hands behind your head if you don't want to share my fate. And if by some improbable chance you manage to survive, make sure I get a respectable funeral. My body is lying at the main entrance."
In reply, I received a diatribe of cursing and profanity!
I lay on the ground with my senses honed and my weapons at ready. Twenty seconds later I saw a gun peeking around the corner of the entranceway. I promptly put a bullet through the hand that was holding it. There was a scream of pain mixed with cursing. Someone came charging in from the other direction while emptying his machine gun at me. Well, actually, three feet above me, that is! The glass doors of the main entranceway exploded into shattered fragments. As soon as his magazine was empty, I shot him in the head. I rolled out into the open parking lot while shooting the man with the wounded hand and killing him as well. I heard a crunching sound behind me as a third assailant, after having entered through the entrance from the other side, stepped on the broken remnants of the glass doors. I emptied my guns in a patterned spread toward the direction of the noise. He gasped as his body tumbled down the steps and then rolled out half-way to where I was lying.
I quickly stood up and then I ran back to the cover of the entranceway. It was time to reload and keep moving.