The Vagabonds (The Code of War Book 4)

by Jim Roberts

  “I know, boy, I don’t know how to tell him either.”

  She reflected on the past year of her life. After losing her husband in Zimbala, Jade had never thought she would find someone to let in her life again—never thought she would have a family.

  Now here she was a year later with a baby on the way.

  And more than ever she was terrified to tell Joe.

  For the life of her, she didn’t know why. She knew he loved her and Jade knew she loved him. But something ate away at Joe that she couldn’t understand. He was hellbent on bringing down Olympus and finding his lost friend.

  How would he handle the news of having a child?

  Jade took a deep breath. She resolved to tell Joe the news the moment he returned.

  And he would return. Joe Braddock always did.

  Connecting Bowser’s leash, Jade made her way back to the kennels. After she’d dropped her animal companion off, it was on to the Operations Hub of the Cottage to get the techs working on the task of finding everything there was to know about this Damien Sledge.

  Chapter 16

  The River of Blood

  Venezuelan Airspace, October 6th

  THE DREAM, this time, was unlike any before. Joe was running through a battle as explosions detonated around him. Men died by the hundreds; blood splashing in rivulets upon him as his mates fell beneath a brutal onslaught of enemy fire. A mortar impacted behind him, driving his body into the ground. He saw the bodies of his men surround him; dead, torn apart and bloodied. He reached for his rifle, but it vanished into smoke. He staggered to his feet and lurched forward, ignoring the pain. Blood poured from his wounds. He collapsed into the dirt, feeling his life ebb away.

  A figure approached him. A man—he couldn’t see his face. Standing above Joe, the figure reached down, a hand outstretched.

  “This is not your time to die, Joe Braddock. Your fate is only beginning...”

  As Joe took the man’s hand, he was pulled back up, ready to face the onslaught once more.

  And then he woke up.

  He was lying against the bulkhead of a Boeing MH-47G Chinook helicopter. Crammed in like sardines, the other Peacemakers were preparing for the day’s deployment.

  Christ, Joe thought, When I get back Stateside, I’m checking into a psych ward!

  As the memory of the dream diminished, he went over the details of yesterday’s events in his mind’s eye. After his team had arrived back aboard the Harbinger early in the morning, they’d spent much of the day debriefing Curtis Walker. The man had proved extremely tightlipped, not unexpected considering his dubious line of illegal work.

  Joe had spoken to Krieger some more about the man and found out some rather interesting truths about Walker’s past. He’d been surprised to learn the man was a former Marine. Walker only served a year before being dishonorably discharged for beating up a superior officer. At the time, Walker claimed the man had sexually assaulted a female soldier, but could not provide proof to the investigating tribunal.

  To Joe, the man was a true curiosity. His outward appearance and general laissez-faire mannerisms belied his obvious talent in combat. While Joe hardly trusted the man, Walker seemed solely motivated by the prospect of money. That made him predictable to a point. Coupled with the promise from Agrippina that Lennox would set him back up again as an arms merchant, Joe could rely on Walker not rocking the boat.

  That still left the small matter of Krieger.

  Joe knew that putting Walker on the same team with the big Russian was a recipe for disaster. It had taken nearly an hour of debating last night to convince Krieger to put things aside and play ball.

  Joe, along with General Walsh and Lt. Brick had spent the rest of the day plotting out the next operation. Walker would not tell them the exact location of the Vagabond HQ. He was adamant that merely bringing the Peacemakers to the HQ was enough of a strain on his trust with the group that his life could very well be in danger.

  In the end, it was decided that a team consisting of Joe, Krieger, Agrippina, Walker and two other Peacemaker support members would travel by helicopter across Venezuela to the mouth of Rio Apure, the river that licked across much of Venezuela’s southern rainforest. The area they would be traversing would be impractical to reach via helicopter, due to the heavy forest covering much of the river’s path. Once they reached the mouth of the Apure, the team would deploy a Peacemaker Whipray SOC (Special Ops Craft) to take them down the river to a set point where they would continue on foot into the jungle and from there on to Lennox’s hidden HQ.

  Rourke had requested to stay behind. The sprain in his leg was causing him fierce pain and he didn’t want to endanger the group if the chips went down. Walsh hadn’t argued and put the man on light duties. The former SEAL had performed admirably in the field last night. Joe hoped the Mohawk-sporting soldier was past the funk he’d been in during the trip to Venezuela.

  Brick had strong reservations about sending a team containing two untrustworthy elements into the bush. Walsh had been inclined to agree, but Joe went to bat for Agrippina, stating that if it hadn’t been for her, he wouldn’t be standing there now. As for Walker, Krieger personally requested to act as the man’s ‘guardian’ during the jungle trek. No more was said on the subject after that.

  Before they left, Orchid had pulled Joe aside.

  “You should be taking me, Sergeant. I don’t like leaving that woman unguarded.”

  Joe had looked over at Agrippina. The dark haired harpy prepared for the mission, caring little for the stares the men in the Unit gave her.

  “Don’t worry,” Joe had said, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Anyways, there was a perfect opportunity for her to kill me back at the mall and she didn’t take it.”

  “Just be careful out there, Joe,” Orchid had said, her almond eyes alive with worry.

  Joe grinned, “Aren’t I always?”

  Upon saying his goodbyes, Joe was about to join his team when Walsh had asked for a quick last word.

  “Listen, Sergeant, I have no idea what you’re going to find in that jungle. If you do meet Lennox, I need you to tell him something for me.”

  Joe had nodded. “Of course, General.”

  “Tell him ‘I never forgot.’”

  “That’s it, sir?”

  “That’s it.” There was an all too brief moment of emotion within the General that Joe rarely saw.

  “Is there anything else General?” Joe had asked.

  “Just…I want you to know that this war we’re waging…it’s not something I can share easily. When…if you meet Lennox, all I can say is that you’ll finally understand what we’re fighting for, Joe. After that, I hope you can forgive me for keeping so much from you.”

  The General’s cryptic sentence had haunted Braddock ever since they took off. Now, as he felt the Chinook descend, he wondered if he really wanted to know.

  From the cockpit of the helicopter, Packrat called back to his passengers through the intercom, “We’re here. Everybody collect your shit. Deploying in thirty seconds!”

  The red light on the aft of the bird switched to green as the back hatch of the helo slid down. Joe, along with the rest of the insertion squad, stood up and prepared to deploy the Whipray craft.

  He looked over at the two additional Peacemakers accompanying them on the mission. Both men were unknown quantities to Braddock, having been recruited after he’d left the Unit back in August.

  Richard Petropolous, or ‘Petrol’ as his Peacemaker comrades called him, was a young, lanky recruit of Greek descent. In the dossier Joe had read, the man had served with the MSI (Mission Report Activity), an offshoot of JSOC. The man was a decorated vet and came highly recommended by his former CO. Before they left, Joe had asked the man why he was called Petrol. Petropolous simply responded, “I guess I just tend to add gas to fires,” and left it at that.

  The other team member was Jack “Husker” Stuckman. A thickly built man who looked like he could bench-press a bulldozer, Husk
er had come to the Unit from the 24th Special Tactics Squadron of AFSOC, or the Air Force Special Operations Command. He wore a do-rag over his shiny bald dome. The man seemed highly professional to Joe.

  Good. We need some of that on this team right now.

  Walker sat next to Krieger, the now former arms merchant looking more than a little uncomfortable having to work so close to his old friend. Krieger said nothing during the trip, content on being able to keep an eye on the man he once looked up to as a brother.

  And finally, there was the Olympus assassin, Agrippina.

  Still wearing her sleek stealth suit, Aggy sported her twin wakizashi blades and FN SeveN pistols. Joe had asked her to take something heavier, but the assassin had refused.

  “I don’t do rifles,” was all she said on that subject.

  With his own M4AI strapped tight around his shoulder, Joe knew they weren’t going to succeed in this mission through force of arms. They would need to move quick and light. If Walker was correct, and Lennox’s command HQ was within the rainforest, they would need luck more than anything else to pull this one off. Anything from VPA regulars, belligerent civilians or Olympus itself could be waiting for them.

  Still, they were going in packing. Joe, along with Husker and Petrol were wearing STF suits under their jungle DPM camo fatigues. Krieger had refused once again to wear a suit, and there weren’t any in Walker’s size. The boyish gunrunner was content with camo fatigues and a tactical vest. Joe was glad for the STF suit, as the inner cooling system made dealing with the awful humidity almost tolerable.

  Braddock, along with Husker, held the Whipray craft as his team piled in. Krieger took the helm of the sleek watercraft. On the aft section was a mounted GAU-17/A minigun. Able to spit 4000 rounds a minute through an electrically-powered feed system, the gun would aid in any quick getaways they would need to do while in the forest.

  The Chinook dipped low and from the aft landing ramp, Joe saw the Apure River come into view. As soon as the underbelly of the helicopter touched the water, the Chinook flight officer gave them permission to deploy. Joe and Husker pushed the craft out the back and into the water, before jumping in themselves. The murky green river was being churned into a stew of syrupy gray by the heavy rotors of the Chinook. As soon as the Whipray was clear, the helo rose up, closing its hatch as Packrat returned it to the carrier.

  Krieger kicked the SOC into gear.

  They were off.

  The Whipray sped across the water, skipping along like a pebble thrown by a rebellious child. The early morning weather was clear, for now, but the forecast called for heavy rain later in the day.

  Krieger, piloting the ship a bit too fast, whistled to himself.

  Joe shook his head. They may as well have been touring a regatta, as far as Krieger was concerned.

  Braddock removed his PDA and checked the satellite telemetry. He switched spots with Husker to sit across from Walker.

  “Alright, we’re right here—” Joe pointed to a moving dot on the GPS map, “How much longer now?”

  “A few hours. There are settlements along the river line. It’d be best to steer clear of them. After that, we’ll be entering the Amazon basin. From there, the forest gets denser, to the point where even seeing the sky can be impossible.”

  “Do you think there’s a chance of Olympus finding this hideout?” Joe asked.

  With a shrug, Walker answered, “I doubt it, but they know the Vagabonds are hiding out here. They’ll do anything to find them, especially if they have reason to believe Lennox is still alive.”

  “They will be out here now,” Agrippina said above the engine noise of the Whipray. The woman had slumped against the hull of the craft as if enjoying a leisurely cruise.

  The jungle around the river was quiet, for the time being.

  Joe eyed the raven-haired assassin, “I think it’s time you were up front with me about a few things.”

  “About what?” Agrippina asked, drawing forth one of her wakizashi and giving it a look-see.

  “About that day back in Africa, for starters. When you told me that you owed Danny. What did you mean?”

  “There are few human beings on this planet I would risk my own life for, Braddock. Danny Callbeck is an exception to that rule.”

  “Why?”

  Agrippina’s red and green eyes met Joes. He felt their withering power as she answered, “Because no man ever put his life on the line for me. Callbeck was a force of nature. He was my equal and I owe it to him to find him.”

  “Is that the only reason?” Joe asked, knowing he was on deadly ground.

  Agrippina looked annoyed by the question. “I’m not some lovesick puppy looking for a man to sweep me off my feet. Yes, there is another reason I’m helping you. Danny is being held by a man I very much want to meet once more.”

  “Who’s that?” Joe asked, his interest piqued.

  “The man who betrayed me back in the Ukraine. The man that found me…raised me. Tiberius.”

  “You mentioned him back at the Cottage,” Joe said, “Who is he?”

  “The Legatus in charge of Olympus. Tiberius is vying for control of the entire PMC. He is the reason I am helping Lennox and you by proxy. Finding Danny means getting close to Tiberius and when I find him—” Agrippina sheathed the blade tightly behind her back, “I will do to him what he tried to do to me.”

  Joe watched her in silence for a moment. He could tell she was holding something back. The look in her eyes when she spoke about Danny told him there was more there than the assassin was letting on.

  He changed the subject. “You mentioned earlier this Siren group—who are they?”

  “A group used by the Imperator for missions too difficult for the rank and file. They’re led by a woman named Vorena.”

  “Have you met this woman?” Joe asked.

  “Several times. She’s one of the Imperator’s prized possessions; a psychopathic killer who controls an incredibly powerful group of fighters.”

  Joe swatted a mosquito. “The woman Sarah saw in the fire—Fausta…”

  Agrippina nodded, “She’s Vorena’s personal bodyguard. I wouldn’t recommend kissing her on a first date.”

  “How could she stand in that fire?” Joe asked. He still found Sarah’s explanation of events that day in Caracas to be rather unbelievable.

  “I’m not sure. All I know is she’s a failed experiment of someone higher up within Olympus. One of the Elders.”

  “Elders?”

  Agrippina rolled her eyes. “Braddock, I could sit here and tell you everything about Olympus, or you could stop bothering me with pointless questions. If we meet the Sirens, our lives won’t count for anything. They will cook, tar and feather us without a second thought.”

  Joe scoffed, “Come on, I thought you were this legendary fighter. Don’t tell me the Sirens scare you.”

  Agrippina glared at him, all mischief having left her eyes. “You should be scared, Braddock. Now that they know we’re in-country, the Sirens will do anything to hunt us down. I made my peace long ago—have you, Joe?”

  The Olympus harpy crossed her arms and looked toward the trees on the riverbank.

  Krieger glanced back at Joe, “She is one grouchy woman, no?”

  The Whipray rushed down the river, its sound-dampened motor pushing them along at thirty miles an hour. Joe sat in silence for some time. It felt surreal to him, traveling toward the promise of answers for the first time since he’d began his war against Olympus. He had placed all of his trust in General Walsh and his notion that this man Lennox would impart some great secret that could help him find his brother and at least halt the Stream. He thought about Jade, wishing she were with him. He clutched his M4A1, concentrating on the task at hand. Around him, the Venezuelan jungle began to grow denser, as if reaching out over the crew of the Whipray to cover them in its choking embrace.

  * * *

  THEY HAD traveled for nearly an hour when a sound from the sky above caused the crew to
lurch to attention. Joe knew the sound well.

  Hyperion VTOL.

  “Krieger, get this thing under cover, now!” Joe hissed.

  The SOC left a telltale wave behind it that Braddock knew would give them away to anyone paying serious attention. They would have to take their chances. Krieger veered the Whipray from the center of the river Apure, maneuvering the craft underneath the forest canopy. Various asai palm trees spread out dozens of feet over the water, providing ample cover for the small boat. Krieger steered the Whipray directly toward a dense patch of water ferns. Everyone ducked into the foliage as the Olympus aircraft powered over them. Through the forest canopy, Joe sighted the black dragonfly-like craft moving swiftly over the river. The aircraft banked away toward the north.

  Are they looking for us? How would they know we’d be here?

  Joe tried to put his mind at ease. Olympus was probably expanding their search for Lennox.

  Agrippina pushed a bramble out of her way, “They aren’t looking for us, if that’s what you’re thinking, Braddock.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because if they were looking, they’d have already found us.”

  Specialist Husker squinted through the ferns, trying to see the aircraft. “I’ve never seen a Hyperion. Damn impressive.”

  “You won’t want to see one again,” Joe said, relaxing as the aircraft disappeared from view.

  Walker shook his head, “I don’t like this. The river’s been too quiet. We should have seen more civilian boats by now.”

  “What?” Krieger said, “Are you looking to turn us in to our enemies?”

  Walker shot the Russian an angry look, “Stick it up your ass, Alexei!”

  “Shut up, both of you!” Joe hissed, “Whatever’s going on, Olympus is looking for something out here if it’s not us. How much further are we to this village, Walker?”

  The wild-haired arms-dealer growled something under his breath before answering Joe, “Maybe about an hour. There should be a tributary that branches off in the next few miles. Take it.”