Hunter Killer

by Brad Taylor

  Jennifer said, “Pike always means what he says. You’re safe.”

  She climbed out of the car, purposely bumped her hip into mine, for the first time letting me know that she was over my earlier questioning of her commitment, and thought that punch was pretty sweet. Which made me feel better, because I was about to put her in the wringer again.

  She said, “I suppose this is our mess now?”

  I said, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  She leaned over the body I’d eliminated and said, “Shoshana, you want to give me a hand?”

  Shoshana said, “Gladly.”

  I looked at the woman, her mouth agape at the turn of events, and said, “Just stay here. These two will protect you. You’ll see your husband soon.”

  She nodded dumbly, but the daughter gave me a thumbs-up.

  Aaron and I jogged across the street and met the phalanx of police. I said, “Get me the U.S. liaison.”

  We repeated the dance of radio calls, and Alonzo Walsh came out, saying, “Where the hell have you been? You said you were going to dinner. That was four hours ago. I thought I was through with this shit show.”

  I said, “Sorry about that. Something came up. Get us in.”

  He shook his head and said, “I did some checking. Nobody’s ever heard of you guys. The embassy doesn’t know who you are.”

  Aggravated at one more blockade to Knuckles, I snatched him by the throat, causing the police around us to spring back, but afraid to interfere in a U.S.-only affair.

  I bent him over backward, my anger starting to get the better of me. I said, “Why is everyone against me? I don’t have time for this shit. Get me in.”

  He nodded his head rapidly, and I released him. He stood up, rubbed his throat, looked at me like I was a lunatic, then started walking to the door. The policemen relaxed, and we followed.

  Aaron whispered, “I’m not sure you’re diplomat material.”

  I said, “Should’ve known that the minute you met me.”

  We entered the lobby and saw a whirlwind of men, all scurrying about. I took in the room and knew they’d reached a tripwire. They weren’t doing analysis for developing plans. They’d made the plan and were now trying to make sure it worked.

  Not good.

  We went down the same hallway and Alonzo said, “He’s under significant pressure. I mean significant pressure. We have U.S. citizens on that ferry. Please, think about that before you speak.”

  And I understood that Alonzo Walsh, a State Department flunky, actually cared. I smiled and said, “I won’t jeopardize them, I promise.”

  He nodded, then knocked on the door.

  We entered, Alonzo leading, and I saw Felipe with a phone to his ear. He said something and hung up. I turned to Alonzo and said, “Time for you to go.”

  His face flushed and he said, “I can’t do that. I have my orders, too.”

  Aaron saw where I was going, stepped around me, and said, “Just leave the room. Now.”

  He turned on that weird Israeli vibe that Shoshana had, and I thought Alonzo was going to soil his pants. He scurried out of the room.

  Felipe said, “We go soon. The assault is on.” Like he didn’t want to know about his family, but I could tell he was begging for the information.

  I said, “Your wife and child are in a car about two hundred meters from here. They’re safe.”

  He blinked at me, stammered something, then collapsed into his chair, cradling his head in his hands, his breath hitching.

  I said, “You okay?”

  He looked up and said, “Are you lying to me?”

  I leaned over his desk and said, “No. Family means everything to me. The men who took yours also tried to kill mine. And I’m going to bring it to a close.”

  He sagged back in his chair, took a breath, wiped his eyes, then said, “Let me talk to my wife.”

  I said, “We don’t have the time for that. Take me at my word. You’ll speak to her face-to-face soon. What’s happening with the assault? You said it was tonight.”

  In a monotone, he said, “The mission is in three hours. A GRUMEC unit is going to assault from a fast boat, with BOPE police as the main element.”

  I said, “How are they going to assault a boat full of terrorists looking for an approach? They’re in the middle of the ocean. They can see everything.”

  He rubbed his head and, without conviction, said, “We’ll be on them before they know we’re there. We’ll eliminate the threat.”

  What he told me was a recipe for disaster. I said, “Call it off. Tell the command you have new intelligence. Tell them you’ve found something else. Postpone the mission.”

  He looked up at me and said, “I can’t do that. It’s taken on a life of its own.”

  Not even meaning to, I turned into the men I was hunting, saying, “If you want to see your wife and child again, you’ll figure out a way.”

  He snapped up out of his chair, his visage contorted in hatred. He said, “You utter one more word, and I’ll kill you right here. I have enough enemies. One more won’t matter.”

  And I was embarrassed at my words.

  Aaron stepped forward, his hands in the air. He said, “My friend isn’t that good at the diplomacy thing, but he’s very, very good at hostage rescue. Please. Listen to him.”

  Felipe went from me to Aaron, then said, “Where is my family?”

  I relented, giving up the one card I had. “They’re in the parking lot across the avenue. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry. I would never hold them hostage, but that ferry has two very good friends of mine on it. My family. It’s why I’m here.”

  He took that in, then said, “So I can just go across the street and get them?”

  I dialed my phone, heard it answered, and said, “Put on the child.”

  I passed it to him.

  Suspicious, he took it, and then I saw his face melt. He began talking in rapid Portuguese, then hung up.

  He stood, regaining his composure. He said, “Thank you. I’m not sure how to express my gratitude. What do you want, for real?”

  “I want you to stop this assault. Give me another day.”

  “What will that do? What’s another day?”

  “You guys give me a day, and before it’s passed, I’ll free that ferry.”

  Chapter 46

  Knuckles rubbed his face, feeling the grime from three days of living in the same clothes. He glanced at Brett and said, “I’m pretty sure that beacon didn’t work.”

  Brett nodded, saying, “I was thinking the same thing. If they could have done something, the Taskforce would have been here by now.”

  They sat in silence, wallowing in the loss of hope for a moment. Brett broke the silence, saying, “So what do you want to do? We have about a one-in-five chance of getting out of here alive if we try anything. Every one of these guys has a detonator. We’d need to kill all four of them at the same time.”

  Brett glanced at the man sitting in the middle of the hostages, the one who had acted strangely, and said, “And that’s not counting the other threats.”

  Knuckles looked at Willow Radcliffe and her child, saying, “Yeah, yeah. I hear you, but it’s looking more and more like it’s going to be on us. We need to prepare for the fight. These guys are breaking down. They can’t take the stress much longer.”

  At the rear of the boat, near the toilet, a ringing began. Brett glanced at Knuckles, and he was just as mystified. It grew louder and louder, until the guards heard it.

  One ran to the rear of the boat, searched around, then cocked his head. He snatched up the backpack full of cell phones, then began digging inside. He pulled out one phone, the noise growing louder now that it was outside. He tried to shut it off, but couldn’t get it to stop.

  Willow jerked upright at the commotion, and the guard saw her, shouting, “Is this your phone? Is this yours?”

  Confused, trying to get the cobwebs of sleep out of her head, she said nothing. The man advanced on her and
said, “Why is this ringing? It’s turned off. What have you done?”

  She said, “I don’t know. I have no idea. That’s not my phone.”

  He advanced forward, and Knuckles saw the cell. Saw what it was. Saw why it was ringing. The other hostages began waking up, scurrying away from his wrath.

  The terrorist reached Willow and screamed again, convinced there was a conspiracy. She tried to refute him, and he slapped her face, driving her into the deck.

  Knuckles leapt up, saying, “That’s my phone. It’s not hers. Stop it.”

  The terrorist glared at him and said, “Why’s it ringing? It’s turned off.”

  Knuckles shrugged his shoulders and said, “I have no idea. You guys have had it the whole time.”

  The terrorist stormed over to him and punched him in the gut, causing Knuckles to double over. Brett leapt up and the terrorist put the barrel of his pistol in his face.

  They stood silent for a moment, Knuckles getting his air back and Brett doing all he could not to break the terrorist’s neck.

  Satisfied at his control, the terrorist slammed the phone into the ground, splitting it open. He stomped on the remains, and the sound stopped.

  He looked at Knuckles, now upright again, and said, “You try anything else, and I’ll kill you.”

  He walked away, and Knuckles smiled, sitting back down on the bench. Willow crawled to him, keeping low, not wanting to cause another outburst.

  She said, “Are you okay?”

  Still thinking about the phone, he said, “Oh yeah, I’m more than okay.”

  Brett slid in next to him and said, “Only one reason that damn thing went off. It looks like your beacon worked.”

  Knuckles felt an infusion of confidence, for the first time feeling he was in control, like he was about to make breach with an unstoppable team behind him.

  He said, “Yeah. The beacon worked, and Pike Logan is about to slam this place.”

  He caressed the blade the child had given him and said, “When it comes, we need to be ready.”

  Chapter 47

  The boat rocketed out of the harbor, going fast enough to leave a small rooster tail behind it. The men driving it were dressed like ninjas, wearing black fatigue pants and tops, complete with yellow letters spelling out BOPE on their backs and black balaclavas over their heads. They looked scary, but when I saw their eyes, I recognized fear. Not that I blamed them, because my plan was not something that would inspire great confidence.

  Unless you were me, that is.

  Jennifer and Shoshana were still wearing civilian clothes, but Aaron and I were outfitted just like the BOPE police, using uniforms borrowed from Felipe but without the vests and gunbelts. In its place we each had a single Glock 23 with an RMR holosight. Felipe, dressed in tactical gear like his men, but without the balaclava, showed more wonderment than fear. He said, “You sure about this?”

  I said, “Yes. You can’t assault that ferry from above the water. Especially with the explosives. If they don’t set them off on our advance, they’ll prepare and set it off on the assault. Best case, you only lose the hostages. Worst case, you lose everyone.”

  He caught my eye and said, “I wouldn’t have followed their orders. I want you to know that. I wasn’t trying to get anyone killed.”

  I said, “I know.”

  His eyes watered, and he said, “When I got her finger, I almost succumbed. But I couldn’t do it. The most I could do was just go along with GRUMEC’s plan. I knew it was crazy, but it was blessed by the government. They were all convinced doing anything was better than letting it go on.” He shook his head and said, “It was easy. Giving up, I mean.”

  I patted him on the shoulder and said, “You didn’t give up. If you had, I wouldn’t be on this boat.”

  Somehow, through sheer force of will, Felipe had gotten them to delay until the following evening, which gave me this one cycle of darkness. He’d made up some bullshit story about checking on possible booby traps on the infiltration route or something like that, and then said he was going to conduct a reconnaissance. The GRUMEC had given him a boat and then had tried to come with him. He’d shut that down as the commander, saying he had explosive ordnance disposal capabilities the GRUMEC couldn’t duplicate.

  He’d retained control of the operation, and because of it, he did what he wanted—at least with the crisis site. He was under enormous pressure, because by the time we returned, he’d have to answer to a multitude of people—up to and including the president of Brazil—demanding to know why he’d postponed the assault, but by then, he’d be a hero.

  I hoped.

  Felipe changed the subject, saying, “You sure she can shoot?”

  He was looking at Jennifer, and I said, “Yeah. She can shoot. All you need to do is keep the boat steady.”

  He’d offered a BOPE sniper, and while I would bet they were competent, I wasn’t putting my life in the hands of anyone I hadn’t seen operate. Jennifer had once hit a head shot from four hundred meters out—and not on a paper target.

  The memory made me regret my earlier questioning of her commitment. Before we’d embarked on the boat—while we waited to transfer our latest Russian from our trunk to Felipe’s men, using the same parking lot from before—Jennifer had pulled me aside, wondering if I’d lost faith in her. But I hadn’t. I’d lost a little faith in myself. When Shoshana’s telling you you’ve got a screw loose, you probably do.

  I’d said, “No. You were right then, but you’re not always right. There is no black and white, but you want to make it that way. The world is a mess of gray, and we operate in it. Sometimes people just need to be dead.”

  Looking at me intently, she said, “I know the gray. It’s not about the lives you end. It’s about why you do so. You can’t take it back. Ever.”

  I thought about the man I’d killed who had tried to surrender. I hadn’t told Jennifer how he’d died, and I knew I’d dream about it for a long time. Not because he didn’t deserve to die. I’m sure he’d done some pretty heinous things, and he would have killed Shoshana without remorse, but that was what separated me from him.

  The fact remains that you can’t be the good guy and do inherently bad things. The justification for the action only goes so far. Pretty soon, left to its own devices, the god of war has you justifying gas chambers because it’s in the interest of the nation you’ve sworn to defend. There was a cut line, and I’d crossed it, and Jennifer had seen what crossing that line could do to me.

  She looked at me intently, touched my cheek, and said, “Shoshana told me what she did. She was right, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was surprised.”

  I chuckled and said, “I’m pretty sure you’re rubbing off on her.”

  “Well, that’s not a bad thing, is it? It’s seemed to work pretty well with you, and look at us now. A couple of super commandos out saving the world while wearing a white hat. Or at least a gray one.”

  I nodded, not fighting her. She saw the shift, smiled, and said, “We’ll get vengeance, but on our terms, not theirs. Okay?”

  I chuckled and said, “Okay, but be careful what you ask for.”

  She said, “What’s that mean?”

  “We’re going on the assault tonight. Aaron and me. You’re going to be in overwatch, and I need the same trigger control I had in Guatemala. You’ll be behind the gun; Shoshana will be spotting.”

  She said, “What?”

  I saw the concern on her face and said, “You can make the shot. I’m not worried about it. It’ll be three hundred meters or less, and the water’s calm in the cove by the harbor. There’s that terrorist who’s always in the captain’s cabin on the upper deck, and he’s the only one we won’t be able to immediately neutralize.”

  She nodded vacantly, thinking about my words, and I saw the reticence. I said, “What’s the matter?”

  She returned to the present, focused on me, and said, “I don’t know about this. It’s a night shot. What if I can’t see the target?”
>
  “He’s in the captain’s cabin. It’s always illuminated. Don’t worry about that.”

  She nodded again, but there was still doubt. I thought it was about killing. I was wrong.

  I said, “What is it? You don’t want to take a life?”

  “Pike, no. That’s not it. The shot is a single point of failure. If I miss, he’ll blow up the boat. Kill everyone.”

  I said, “Then I guess you’d better not miss.”

  Chapter 48

  The boat reached the midpoint between the island, the twinkling lights from the houses and restaurants appearing like stars on the ocean, the landmass itself still hidden in the darkness.

  Felipe said, “About ten minutes out.”

  I said, “Once we leave the boat, get in the protected cove and anchor. Jennifer will set up, Shoshana will spot, and all you do is sit. It’ll be over soon.”

  He flicked his head to the stern and said, “You know that equipment is just for rescue purposes. It’s not designed for what you’re about to do.”

  Since we couldn’t attack from the surface of the water on another boat, that left two options: one, parachute onto the deck of the ferry from above, then start slinging lead as we came down, or two, go under the surface. Since option one would only work in a Jason Bourne movie, that left option two.

  At the rear of the boat were two sets of HEEDs–Helicopter Emergency Egress Devices—which were basically mini-scuba tanks designed to allow a helicopter crew to escape a crash in the water, where most of the deaths weren’t from impact, but from drowning. I’d asked Felipe if his helicopter crews had them, since they flew over water, and he’d told me yes.

  I said, “The HEED is designed to provide air underwater, and that’s how I’m going to use it. We’ve only got about a three-hundred-meter swim, and it’ll work for that.”

  Aaron smiled, saying, “Don’t worry, Felipe. We won’t die on the infiltration. It’s the final five feet that’s going to be dangerous.”