The Vagabonds (The Code of War Book 4)

by Jim Roberts

  Sarah put her hands on her hips, growing uncomfortable, “I was covering a riot near the Government barricades downtown. Things got way out of hand. We were attacked by some sort of…I don’t know, woman or something that burned everyone alive.”

  “What? How?” Joe asked, perplexed.

  “She controlled a group of drones that seemed to react to her commands. I can’t begin to describe it, Joe.” The memory was clearly difficult for Sarah to recall, “The woman walked out into the fire, and it didn’t burn her! She doused the entire area with white phosphorous and killed everyone. It was so…” Sarah wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes at the horrible memory.

  Agrippina spoke next, “That would be Fausta you saw.”

  “Fausta?” Joe repeated, not recognizing the odd name.

  “One of the Sirens. Female soldiers at the Imperator’s beck and call.”

  “I got away, after my cameraman…Trent, he…” Sarah’s voice grew strained, “I thought they would kill me too, but I was saved.” She looked over to Walker. “Curtis saved me. He brought me here—protected me from Olympus.”

  Joe looked at Walker. “Thanks. This lady’s a good friend of our Unit.”

  Walker shrugged. “She was lucky, that’s all. If I had been anywhere else, well…”

  Joe decided to get down to business. They were on a timeframe, after all.

  “The rumor on the street is that you’re the man responsible for arming the VPA rebels within the city. From what I’ve seen so far, that assessment would appear to be accurate.”

  Walker shrugged, “I do what I can.”

  “The word also says that you receive your weapons from this group called the Vagabonds.”

  “And you learned this from Agrippina, I assume?”

  Joe nodded, his eyes glancing to the Olympus assassin, who had propped herself onto a table to listen to the meet and greet. “Yes. Aggy tried to take something very important from our HQ. She…convinced us to work with her on a problem I think you can help us with.”

  “And that is?” Walker asked, his voice guarded.

  “How to find Leo Lennox.”

  Walker rapped his knuckles on the crate, chuckling as he spoke, “Ah, the great Lennox. I haven’t heard from him in, what, two weeks now? Why do you think I can help?”

  “Do you know anything about his disappearance?”

  “Walker shrugged. “Only what I heard from my contacts within the Vagabonds. Olympus tried to assassinate him while he was investigating Damien Sledge.”

  There was that name again. Joe had read about the billionaire’s probable involvement in the brief during the ride into Caracas.

  Walker nodded. “Yes. Lennox believed Sledge was working with Olympus, supplying them with advanced technology. He has several factories around South America, and Venezuela specifically. Before he vanished, Lennox was searching for one of them.”

  “Which one? Why?” Joe asked.

  “No clue. Whatever the case, it was important enough for Lennox to risk his safety for.”

  Joe sucked his lower lip, putting things together in his mind. “Look, Walker, we need your help. Do you know where Lennox could be hiding?”

  Walker regarded Joe for a moment, his eyes dark. “Maybe. But I don’t trust you or your team. Why should I even give your Unit the time of day?”

  Agrippina said to Walker, “How much longer do you think you can operate here? My guess is your supply chain has shut down since Lennox vanished.”

  The question seemed to annoy the gunrunner. “Lennox only provided me with some light American arms. I have contacts throughout South America. I don’t need him backing me to turn a profit. Look around—” he said, making a sweeping gesture around him, “I have enough stockpiled here to provide the rebels with arms and ammo for the next three months; more than enough time to make a killing. Lennox went into hiding because he was almost killed by people he thought he could trust. I don’t trust you or her at all,” he pointed at Agrippina. “So I’ll repeat my question: why should I help your team, Sergeant?”

  Braddock had to appeal somehow to this man. He decided to change the subject.

  “Tell me how you know Krieger.”

  “You mean Alexei?” Curtis Walker answered wistfully. “We served together in Beirut three years ago. I wasn’t exactly doing this then. He and I were tight, like good bros, you know? We had started a protection firm together, called Iron Hammer Securities. You have to understand that back then, Alexei—or Krieger as you call him—had more than a few enemies among various PMCs, especially Academi. I was no saint in their eyes either. We thought that starting up a PMC ourselves could help shield us from their bad graces.”

  Joe remembered the story Krieger had told of his early days, witnessing the famous Blackwater massacre in 2007. It was something the Russian rarely spoke of, to him or anyone.

  Walker stood up and walked around the office, as if restless in telling the story.

  “One day, a Hezbollah terrorist cell attacked us while on route to a meeting. Our cars were blocked in, shot to shit from all sides. Our crew of eight men was killed, along with our charge. We were all gonna die that day. I wasn’t going to be one of them. I shot my way out of the ambush and escaped with my life.”

  “You ran away,” Rourke said, his tone accusing.

  “I survived,” Walker corrected the SEAL, “That’s what I do. That’s what I have been doing ever since that day. I stay alive because I trust my instincts and keep my enemies close. So far, you guys don’t much register on my trust meter.”

  Joe sighed. He wasn’t getting anywhere with his man. He checked his watch. They would need to be back on board the Black Hawk in two hours if they were going to get out before sun-up. He had until then to hopefully convince this man to tell them how to find Lennox.

  And if he didn’t, well, Joe would get what he needed one way or another.

  * * *

  OUTSIDE ON the rooftop of an old six-story apartment overlooking the Cenador Mall, Orchid observed the dilapidated shopping center with the suit’s advanced ocular sensors. With a simple voice command, she was able to switch between infrared, heat-sensitive and EM spectrum. The last was to aid in sighting telltale signs of shrouded enemies. It was one of the many welcome additions Doctor Cairncross had made to the Whisper suit since joining the team.

  As she scanned the exterior with her sensors, noting the positions of the various cartel guards around the building, something flared on the oculars. Atop the mall, where one of the guardsmen was positioned to overlook the street, a flicker of movement undetectable to the naked eye pulled Orchid’s attention. The cartel man didn’t seem to notice anything—until a figure appeared directly behind him. Orchid could only watch as the guard’s head was moved in a bizarre angle—as if something had grabbed and twisted it with brute force. The man fell to the ground, dead as Dillinger.

  Instantly, Orchid activated her comm. “Team Alpha, eyes out, we have an infiltration on the top of the mall.”

  Joe’s voice came back over the comm, “Copy, what do you see, over?”

  “Shrouded Olympus soldiers, maybe Praetorians, I can’t tell from here.”

  As Orchid spoke, she saw more movement around the mall, as if shadows were coming alive from the surrounding city. The shapes converged on the mall. Orchid watched as the cartel members were cut down to the man, killed without even knowing what hit them. Some were pierced with some sort of blade, others simply had their necks snapped.

  “Outer defenses have been nullified, repeat nullified. Their heading inside, Joe!”

  The sound of gunfire echoed from within the mall. Orchid stood up from her hiding place, worried for her teammates.

  Joe’s voice came over the comm. Breathlessly shouting, “Get over here now, Orchid! We’ve got some serious company!”

  Chapter 13

  Winding Road to Hell

  JOE HAD only just reentered the office when he heard Orchid report on the attempted infiltrat
ion. He said to Curtis Walker, “We’ve got trouble outside the mall!”

  Everyone jolted to alert readiness at the news. Walker, who’d been speaking with Agrippina off to one side, bolted upright. “What trouble?”

  “Not sure, but I think—”

  A deafening crash from the mall concourse drowned out Joe’s next words. He heard Krieger shouting outside the office, “Joe, we got company!”

  Immediately, gunfire exploded from various locations of the mall, echoing like thunder in the enclosed building.

  Walker grabbed a crane stock Mk. 18 assault rifle from the table, shouting as he did, “Goddamn, you led them to me!”

  “No chance!” Joe replied angrily, “There was no way Olympus knew of this!” He looked out the door, only to duck back as Krieger leapt inside the office, sweating profusely. There was blood covering his arm.

  “It isn’t mine,” Krieger said. “Looks like I am no longer prisoner.”

  “Grab a gun, we need to get out of here!” Joe stole a glance into the mall concourse. His blood froze as he saw what was attacking them.

  Their enemies climbed across the walls of the mall as if gravity meant nothing to them. They were using some sort of shroud technology Joe had never seen before. It made the attackers appear in two places at once, causing them to be extremely hard to focus on. The cartel guards were emptying their submachine guns for all they were worth and hitting nothing but air. Joe could only watch as the displaced attackers would leap onto a cartel member and tear them apart as if their limbs were held with scotch tape.

  “What are they?” Joe yelled, keeping back from the door for the moment. From the sheer numbers of the enemy streaming through the skylight, he could tell they were massively outnumbered.

  Agrippina stole a quick glance out the door, then said, “Secutor shock troops!”

  “What technology is that they’re using?” Joe asked, readying his M4A1.

  “It’s a displacement shroud. It makes them appear in two places at once. They climb using special crampons in their boots and gauntlets. Don’t try to take them in hand to hand. They’re fucking tough and their titanium bladed gloves will cut you to pieces!”

  Krieger grabbed his automatic shotgun from the office table. “What is plan, Joe?”

  Braddock didn’t answer. He clicked his comlink, “Orchid do you read? Orchid!”

  No reply.

  Damn it.

  Joe tried to think. The more time they wasted, the more these enemies continued to swarm inside the building. Glancing around the office, he saw Sarah taking up a position behind Rourke. Of to the side, Walker was typing feverishly into his laptop.

  “What are you doing?” Joe shouted over to the gunrunner. “We need to get outta here now!”

  “I’m covering my tracks!” Walker fired back. Finished, he closed the laptop and hefted his Mk. 18 rifle. Using the butt end, he smashed the computer, “Done!”

  Outside in the mall concourse, Joe saw the cartel security members were being slaughtered wholesale. At least a dozen men had bitten the dust, torn to bloody bits by the invisible enemies.

  Walker rushed up to stand by Joe, “Come on, there’s a service elevator down the hallway that leads to the underground parkade. That’s our way out!”

  Agrippina had unholstered her twin FN SeveN pistols and held them at the ready. “We can’t stay here any longer. They’ll secure this place floor by floor. We have to move!”

  Joe readied his M4A1. “Okay, we’re Oscar Mike. On three…one, two, three!”

  The group bolted from the room, with Joe leading the way. Walker ran beside him, pointing, “The elevator’s just ahead. Come on!”

  As they came to the corner, a fusillade of gunfire exploded toward them. Joe was caught almost flatfooted and was only saved by the grace of Rourke pulling him back from the line of fire. Joe had a split second to see that the elevator was heavily guarded by a team of Secutor troopers, all armed with some sort of sub-machinegun.

  No dice that way.

  There was no escape through the elevator, and the concourse roundabout meant certain death.

  Just as Joe was trying to work a plan of action out in his mind, a duo of Secutors landed on the floor leading down into the spiraling concourse. Rourke and Joe leveled their weapons and opened fire. Amazingly, they managed to tag the hard-to-see enemies. As they were hit, their suits immediately de-shrouded, and the Secutors’ true appearances were revealed.

  They’re bodies were slender and covered with a glossy black armor. Their gauntleted hands gripped what looked like KRISS Vectors—unconventional American submachine guns. Various climbing accouterments hung from their belts and their heads were covered with oddly shaped helmets. To Joe, they resembled a modern updating of ancient Roman headgear he’d seen pictures of in books when he was a kid. Warriors in ancient Rome that fought as gladiators wearing these odd, rounded helmets.

  Secutors…

  As the shrouds vanished, the Olympus attackers crumpled to the ground, blood spraying from multiple wounds.

  They can be killed, that’s all I care about, thought Joe, as his mind strayed back to his fight with the horrific Brutus back in Syria. These women reminded him of the massive super-soldier in how they fought and moved. Thank God they don’t have the armor that brute did.

  A flurry of gunfire from the direction of the elevator jolted the group back to reality. It was then that Joe became aware of another sound.

  It was the mall intercom—an automated voice, counting down.

  “Four minutes, ten seconds…four minutes, five seconds…”

  A sick feeling flowed over Joe. He reached over and grabbed Walker. “What the hell did you do?”

  “I can’t let Olympus have this location,” Walker stammered, “I’ve got it wired with four-hundred pounds of RDX explosive!”

  Before Joe could react, Krieger held up his auto shotgun and shot another Secutor that landed on the walkway where its dead comrades lay. The 12 gauge round shredded the trooper’s torso in an explosion of bloody gore. It pitched backward and toppled over the rail, screaming as it fell four stories to the bottom floor.

  “Our only way is down the concourse!” Walker shouted, “If we can get to the parkade, we can escape. It’s our best chance!”

  Joe had waited enough. It was either try and shoot it out with the Secutors at the elevator, or make a break down the spiral concourse and get to the parkade. God only knew what was waiting for them down there, but a chance was a chance.

  Agrippina winced as more gunshots stitched into the wall beside them. “Make a decision, Braddock! Before you get us all killed!”

  “Alright, everyone down the concourse. Find cover where you can and return fire!”

  The team moved out into the spiral concourse, running as fast as they could. What followed next was the most hectic, terrifying descent Joe had made in his life. The Secutors took positions on opposite ends of the concourse, firing their weapons. Bullets exploded the dilapidated mall architecture around the fleeing group in bursts of plaster and dust. The frantic descent was made more so by the ever-present intercom voice, continuing its slow countdown.

  Triggering his M4 as he ran, Joe began to notice a tell-tale shimmer made by the shrouds of the Secutors. If he concentrated, he was able to predict their movements enough to adequately mark their positions. It wasn’t easy, but it would have to do.

  Krieger managed to tag several of the Secutors with his AA-12, roaring in defiance as he blasted away. Joe spotted Walker tagging another Secutor spidering its way down from the skylight toward them. Joe had to admit, the gunrunner could shoot.

  By now, most of the cartel members, as well as Walker’s own VPA guards, were dead, with only a few here and there trying to make their way to the bottom floor and escape.

  As the team rounded the first corner of the third floor, a Secutor burst over the edge of the veranda directly in front of Joe. He tried to raise his rifle but had no room to maneuver and was tackled by the Olym
pus killer. It was still displaced and appeared to Joe as a blurred creature devoid of form. The Secutor lunged back, its bladed gauntlet raised, ready to remove his head from its shoulders.

  Bam!

  The Secutor de-shrouded as a bullet exploded through its brains, spraying Joe with a shower of bright red blood and gray matter. The body of the Olympus soldier slumped on top of him. He looked over and saw Agrippina holding the weapon that had saved his life. Joe was so shocked at still being alive, that he almost didn’t hear the intercom ticking down.

  “Three minutes, thirty seconds, three minutes—twenty-five seconds…”

  Agrippina helped push the dead body off of him. As she did, the helmet fell from the corpse. Joe was stunned at the sight before him.

  It was a woman.

  They were all women, Joe realized as he got to his feet. Lithe, powerfully built female soldiers. Joe couldn’t believe what he saw. He was shocked back to reality when Agrippina fired her FN SeveN at another Secutor that landed on the concourse walkway.

  “Wake up, Braddock There’s more where she came from!” Aggy shouted over the noise of combat.

  There was too much gunfire coming at them from too many sources. The team was forced to crouch down behind the weak plaster and concrete guardrail as the Secutors fired on them mercilessly. Joe dared a peek over the ledge and saw more Secutors landing on the spiral walkway on the floors below.

  They’re trying to box us in!

  The group huddled together, shooting in all directions—Joe and Agrippina targeted the Secutors blocking their way while Krieger and Walker fired at the enemies swarming in from the floor above them. Rourke knelt low, clapping another magazine into his Battle Rifle. Sarah Anders had appropriated a Browning handgun from one of the dead cartel men and was firing at the Secutors on the other side of the mall concourse.

  Krieger bellowed over the gunfire, “Joe, if there was ever a time for a miracle, now would be good!”

  Joe saw Agrippina clip another displaced soldier. He noted that all it seemed to take to disable the displacement shroud was a single bullet or fast moving object. The Secutor wobbled on its feet, not yet finished. Braddock took aim with his M4A1 and fired a burst that stitched the Olympus elite trooper directly across its glistening torso. Blood burst forth like flowers blooming as the Secutor tumbled to the floor in a soggy heap. It sickened him that it was women that he was killing, but in right now, it was either fight or die.