GUARDIANS: Mission To Rescue Innocence (Beauty 0f Life Book 7)

by Laura Acton

  Blaze directed. “Be ready. I’ll call out our arrival, and we hit at the same time as Mason crosses no man’s land with the girls.”

  “Roger,” Mason responded.

  Cherry Club – Fifth Floor – Foyer

  Dan, Ripsaw, and Mason all prepared for Blaze’s and Winds’ entrance. Mason hoisted both girls in his arms. He would not be firing a weapon. His objective was to race across the open area as fast as possible without getting these girls killed. Blaze, Winds, Blondie, and Ripsaw would lay down cover fire for him. As he positioned himself, Mason asked, “Blondie, how you holding?”

  “Okay,” Dan answered as he checked his clips. He held in a groan as his stomach clenched. Giving in to puking before helped a little with the desire to hurl but did nothing to relieve the increasing pain and lack of coordination.

  Ripsaw shifted slightly. “Fakhir and his men are coming. They’re armed.”

  “Shit!” both Mason and Dan exclaimed.

  “Fourth floor. Be ready,” Blaze informed the unit.

  Taking a peek around the planter’s corner, Dan prepared.

  “Go,” Blaze said as they reached the fifth and the doors began to open.

  Kneeling, Dan fired short bursts at the tables. Ripsaw sent a sustained volley towards the sheik’s men, scattering them as they rushed for cover. Blaze and Winds stepped out with their guns aimed at the sentries near the overturned tables, fired off a hail of bullets, and shielded themselves with a concrete column. Surprised to be hit from two sides and not knowing which way to shoot, some guards shot at the planter and others at the open elevator.

  Once the firefight started, Mason sprinted with his back angled toward Savelievich’s minions to protect the children as best he could while the guys constant gunfire drew most of the attention away from him. Though, he did see puffs of carpet fibers burst into the air, and one bullet singed his shoulder as it grazed him. He came to an abrupt stop inside the metal box and continued to shield his precious cargo with his body. “I’m clear,” Mason shouted.

  Dan changed position from the cherry tree planter to the pillar to cover himself better. He drew a deep breath and held it as he picked off two heads which dared peek above the barricaded tables. “Let’s go, Ripsaw,” Dan said as he moved away from the decorative column and strode forward.

  Back to back, Ripsaw stuck to Blondie as they started across no man’s land. Blondie, on point, dealt with Panin’s guards. Ripsaw covered their six taking out Fakhir’s men who somehow procured weapons and were firing at them.

  “Move faster,” Blaze ordered. He chanced a glance at Blondie and spied him stumble, and one hand move to his stomach. The kid was in terrible shape. The fact he was moving at all surprised him. They needed cover. He would have to take the chance of using a smoke grenade, or his men wouldn’t make the distance. “Heads up, clouds with lightning and thunder coming.” Blaze lobbed the non-lethal grenades then resumed laying down cover fire.

  Flashes and bangs disoriented the guards, and purple smoke rapidly billowed providing cover for Ripsaw and Blondie from those in front of them. The noise and light halted the advance of Fakhir’s guards as they shielded their eyes. Though, the smoke provided no cover to their rear, so Ripsaw had his hands full dispatching the men as they took cover behind the recently vacated pillars and planters.

  Halfway across, Dan’s rifle clicked, and he was out ammo for the weapon. He tossed the AK-12 down and pulled out the GSh-18 pistol he procured from the man he killed in the auction room. With only four bullets left in the cartridge, Dan took careful aim.

  After his third shot, Ripsaw’s agonized scream stopped him in his tracks. Dan pivoted, finding Ripsaw on the ground gripping his lower leg as blood spilled out between his fingers. “Got ya!” Dan reached down to grab the back of Ripsaw’s vest, to drag him the rest of the way.

  Through the purple haze, Fakhir emerged with his gun leveled at Ripsaw’s head. He sneered, “Promised I would kill you if I ever saw you again.”

  Dan reacted instantly … his pistol came up, firing his last round, he hit dead center between Fakhir’s shocked eyes. As Sheik Al Sattar’s body crumpled to the carpet, Dan retorted, “Told you I never miss, Fucker.”

  “Thanks, kid.” Ripsaw grimaced in intense pain. “Can’t—” He stopped suddenly in telling him he couldn’t stand as he was forcefully yanked backwards by Blondie. The kid dragged his ass all the way to the elevator while Winds and Blaze provided continuous cover.

  Cherry Club – Elevator

  Amazed he had the stamina to pull Ripsaw the rest of the way he didn’t stop moving until they were in the lift. Blaze and Winds stepped in, and Dan slammed the close door button as Blaze continued to fire at the guards. The doors shut and the guys could hear bullets pinging the metal.

  As they started to descend, Winds pressed the emergency stop button so they could regroup and assess Ripsaw. Safe between floors for a few moments, he knelt next to Ripsaw. “How bad?”

  Grimacing and rocking as he applied pressure to his lower leg Ripsaw ground out, “Think it hit the bone. Can’t bear weight on it.”

  None of them carried pressure bandages, so Dan ripped off his vest, unbuttoned his shirt, and handed the garment to Winds. As Winds tied the makeshift bandage tightly around Ripsaw’s calf, Dan put the vest back on before leaning against the back wall to catch his breath which seemed to come more difficult than usual.

  Blaze directed, “Winds you take Ripsaw. Give your Veresk to Blondie, and I’ll carry your pack. I’ll take point followed by Winds and Mason. Blondie you have our six. We’re getting off on three and taking the hidden passage. That should be safer for the girls than going through the main room.”

  After Winds handed his gear over as instructed, he squatted, took hold of Ripsaw, and hoisted him up on his shoulder in a fireman carry. It would be faster this way than helping him hobble. Winds pulled out his handgun.

  Ripsaw positioned himself so he could fire his pistol since his rifle lay empty and discarded on the floor of the foyer. He was pissed at himself for getting shot, but to be honest, he was surprised when only he was hit during the intense firefight on the fifth floor.

  Dan doubled over in pain as a groan escaped, though he tried to contain the sound. He forced himself upright and locked gazes with Blaze who eyed him with concern. “I’m okay.”

  Mason snorted. “Like hell you are.”

  “I can do this. We need to finish what we started. Rescuing Dom’s girls is still the priority. I refuse to fail them,” Dan snapped and clenched his jaw to stop any more groans from leaking out.

  “You won’t. I have faith in you.” Blaze patted Blondie’s shoulder then pressed number three, and they began to descend. His unit was getting out of here alive with the little girls. They would deal with Ripsaw’s wound and Blondie’s predicament once they made it outside and to the vans. In reality, they had no other choice.

  Cherry Club – Third Floor – Hall & Vetting Room

  As the lift reached the third level, Blaze and Blondie positioned themselves to take out any guards who might be in the hallway. Both took a quick, relieved breath finding the area clear. Blaze strode out first followed by Winds carrying Ripsaw, Mason holding Anna-Marie and Nicolette, and Dan bringing up the rear.

  Blaze tried the first door and found it locked. As they moved down the hall, he tested each entry, but all were secured until one near the end of the long hallway. He motioned for Winds to set Ripsaw down so they could clear the room. Mason turned his back to the door to protect Dom’s kids while Blondie covered their six.

  Swinging the portal wide open, Winds and Blaze blinked at the contents. “Damn. At least we know there is an entry to the passageway in this one,” Blaze said striding inside as Winds lifted Ripsaw again and followed him in.

  A shiver went down Mason’s spine as he stepped into the vetting room.

  Dan failed to recognize this room as he fought to ignore his symptoms. A pounding head, tremors in his hands, shakiness in his leg
s, the annoying dripping of blood from his nose, and the fires of hell burning in his gut, all clouded his thinking. Though, when he caught sight of two dead guards on the floor, one lying in his vomit from earlier, the significance of this room flooded back in.

  After locking the door, he leaned on the wall and wiped at his sanguinolent nose again, wishing the slow trickle would stop. Dan placed his hand on his stomach as the furnace-like pain hit him like a blowtorch. His eyes flicked to Mason who still held Nicolette and Anna-Marie. Wincing and clenching his fists, Dan dug deep into his reserves to stay on his feet. If I die, that’s okay if it means we are successful in rescuing these innocent girls.

  Blaze called out. “Brody, we’re heading into the passage. What is the situation in the alley?”

  “After your fireworks show, we’ve had a few people exit the back but no issues for us. However, those flashbangs and smoke will be drawing the police and possibly the fire department shortly.”

  “Roger.” Blaze glanced at Blondie. “How ya holding up?”

  “Holding. Can we go now?” Dan said pushing down nausea.

  Carefully opening the hidden door Blaze checked both directions and found it clear. He waved to the others, and they began to enter the secret passageway in the same order as before.

  “Gross,” Dan muttered as he passed the guard near his puke.

  Winds chuckled. “This is nothing, should’ve seen when the guy was licking that shit up. Almost made me toss my cookies.”

  Dan heaved without warning, and he barely bent over in time not to cover himself in the watery bile which spewed out. When finished, he spat several times and wiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to add to your misery,” Winds said sincerely, contrite thinking his words caused Blondie to upchuck.

  Dan only nodded, his throat burning too much to respond vocally. On unsteady legs, Dan followed them through the scarcely lit, narrow corridor, covering their rear as he walked backward. With one hand on his fiery stomach, the other holding the rifle prepared to shoot, his survival instinct kicked in changing his mindset. I can do this. I will make it out under my power. Slimy, fat, bastard, Panin will not win either. I’ll fight with everything I possess … I refuse to give up.

  Zero-Sum Game

  36

  May 29

  Cherry Club – Fifth Floor – Auction Room & Foyer

  Panin stirred on the floor. His head and throat hurt. He pushed his considerable girth up to a sitting position and glanced around him as the sounds of gunfire rang in his ears. Only his dead guards and one of Al Sattar’s men remained in the room with him. Moving to his knees, he crawled to the pink ivory wood table and grasped the edge to help lever himself up.

  As he waddled a bit unsteadily to the bar to pour a drink, rage built. The cocky son of a bitch was responsible for all this. Several loud explosions caused him to spill the Visinata down his shirt. He would leave his sentries to kill Maks … or whoever the bastard actually was. They must go through a dozen well-armed men to reach the elevator and most likely Al Sattar and his men too. Two against dozens … they would be dead soon.

  Pouring another double shot, he downed it in one gulp. He refilled his glass again and moved to the table, lowering himself into a chair. As the gunfire ebbed, Panin realized the explosions would surely bring the Politsia along with the State Fire Service. He needed to do damage control and move his remaining merchandise out before they came storming in here.

  After fishing his mobile from his pocket, he scrolled through his contacts, selecting Kesar’s number. He would need his inside man, Lieutenant Kesar Tikhonovich of the Makhachkala Politsia, to cover his ass … it’s why he paid the cop a significant bribe. As the phone rang, he searched around for his MP-443 Grach and found it laying on the floor with the cartridge missing.

  When Kesar answered, Panin swiftly explained, and not knowing the name of the impersonator, gave the corrupt official Maks’. He described both Maks and his massive bodyguard and laid the blame on them telling Kesar they went nuts and shot up his club on a killing spree.

  He instructed Kesar to do whatever was necessary to hold off entering the club for at least thirty minutes. He didn’t care how he did it, but Panin needed time to arrange things inside to conceal his criminal activity. As he swallowed the rest of his drink, Panin decided he should take a vacation until things cooled down. The seven dead in this room and a lifeless international playboy would raise questions. Better to hide out in another country for a time.

  Panin stood and retrieved his weapon on his way to a secret compartment. Opening the safe behind the panel, he pulled out a new clip, inserted it into his gun, and stowed the pistol in his holster. He retrieved three burner phones, a wad of cash, several credit cards, and five fake passports, putting all in a black pouch. The last thing he removed was his spare elevator key and shoved it in his front pocket.

  Returning to the table, Panin sat and turned his laptop around to access his account. He needed to transfer funds from his primary one to those associated with his fake identities. As he typed in his password, yelling and gunfire erupted in the foyer again.

  Shattering glass caused Panin to turn his head. He witnessed four of the prince’s men in the display area shooting out the mirrors to the buyer rooms. They forced his clients to their knees and shot them point blank in the back of the head … execution style. Fear surged through him as he watched them move methodically to each room and kill his regular customers.

  Shaking, he refocused on the monitor, and his eyes rounded. He stared at the balance. Zero? He accessed each account, and his rage increased as every one of them showed a zero balance. What the hell is going on?

  The reason hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes moved to the rotating bed. Those girls are daughters of a former SAS operative. The pretend Maks and his bodyguard must be operatives. The heathen speaks English. The speed of the blond when he killed my men. The woman? Magic Mike? No way cowering Mike is an operative … they probably used him to gain entrance … but ….

  Panin’s mind switched, and he smiled. Regardless, the arrogant blond and his heathen are dead now … my sentries mowed them down. He decided to kill Mike and that woman before he left. The smile faded as five of Fakhir’s eight men strode into the room with scowls and carrying weapons which had belonged to his men.

  One was on a phone speaking Arabic which Panin did not comprehend. Though he didn’t understand the language, the animosity was evident in the glares directed at him. His first thought was to shoot them, but with four guns aimed at him, he realized he would be killed if he drew his pistol.

  Saleet Al Baksh ended the call and addressed Panin in English, “Emir Sheik Umar bin Farid Al Sattar wishes a word with you regarding his son’s death. You will be coming with us to explain what happened.”

  Panin’s eyes shot open, and his jaw drooped. “Dead?”

  “Yes. The Maksim imposter killed him before escaping.”

  Another wave of shock passed through Panin. “He escaped? How? My men … two dozen against two … not possible.”

  Saleet raised a brow. “Your men are worthless … and all deceased.”

  Plotting, Panin figured he could work this to his advantage. With his bank accounts gone, and not enough ready cash to finance skipping town, he now had a way out. He could finagle an invitation to stay at the Emir’s palace. He would be beyond the authorities if Kesar couldn’t smooth things over.

  He could also tell Fakhir’s father all about the ruse which was played on him and how he was a victim. The father would want revenge for Fakhir’s death and would help him locate the contemptuous pretender and eliminate him. And while they did the work, he would live in the lap of luxury at their palace.

  Panin said, “Yes. Fine. We must leave now. The politsia are on their way. I have access to an underground garage. We will be able to leave unseen.” He stood and started for the corridor as the others followed him.

  Shock reverb
erated through Panin as he viewed all the dead bodies in the hallway. Approaching the foyer, which possessed a slight purple haze and smoky odor from discharged gunpowder, Panin stopped when he spotted Fakhir’s body. He scanned the area noting all his dead men. His gaze returned to Fakhir as one man bent and lifted his inert body.

  Saleet nudged Panin. “Move.”

  Stepping over several of his men, Panin went to the elevator. He shuddered when he realized four men carried lifeless comrades. Apparently, the decreased would be traveling with them. Panin gaped at the destroyed controls. Someone had overridden his system … a key was no longer necessary to reach the fifth floor, but the garage button remained hidden.

  Above the panel, Panin pressed his thumb to what appeared to be a decorative metal cherry. In fact, it was a fingerprint scanner which unlocked a secret niche. When it popped open, he pushed the single unlabeled button.

  Speaking Arabic, Saleet said, “Jaasir, after we place the sheik in the vehicle, you need to return and finish cleaning house.”

  Jaasir nodded. “Vengeance is mine.”

  Panin asked, “What’s going on?”

  Having his orders from the Crown Prince, Saleet smiled. “Nothing of your concern. Only instructions on preparing to leave. We will be going by private jet. I assume you possess a passport.”

  “Yes.” Panin withheld the grin which he wanted to display. This will work out perfect. If I play this right, the Emir will help me in many ways. I’ll have him eating out of my hand in no time.

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Panin’s Office

  The group made it through the passageway and to Savelievich’s office without encountering additional watchmen which surprised them. Blaze instructed, “Stay here and rest a moment. I’ll recon the outer office and hall to find out what we’re up against getting to the stairs.”

  Winds set Ripsaw down in the chair and checked Dom’s program. His face split into a broad grin. “All accounts are zero, and the program sent the data to Interpol. It is beginning to scramble Panin’s computer.” Squatting near Ripsaw, Winds inspected the blood-soaked fabric. “How’s the leg?”