Hunter Killer

by Brad Taylor

  Pike chuckled, and she looked confused. She said, “Pike did. He said it was no different from the range.”

  Now Knuckles laughed and said, “And was it?”

  Vehemently, letting off the last four hours of doubt, she said, “Hell no! I couldn’t keep the reticle from bobbing. I was petrified I’d miss.”

  She turned to Pike and said, “Is he right? Did you lie to me?”

  Pike leaned in and pecked her cheek, saying, “No, I didn’t lie. I said you had the skill, and you did. If I’d have said that this shot was hard, you would have started second-guessing. And by the way, that was a damn good shot.”

  Incredulous, Jennifer looked at Shoshana, and she grinned, saying, “Told you. He believes in you like I do. You made the bullet go where you wanted.”

  Jennifer’s eyes flared, but before she could say anything, Felipe came forward, fully kitted out like the BOPE commander he was.

  His face aglow, he said, “This has been a miracle. All of the hostages saved, all of the terrorists dead. I can’t thank you enough.”

  Pike said, “Our pleasure. Just remember our deal. You get to be the hero. We get to disappear. You control the debriefs and tell anyone that mentions English speakers that they’re confused and traumatized by the crisis.”

  He nodded his head, saying, “That will be my pleasure. I’ve already alerted the government. It is going out all over the news. The president is claiming it as a great win. It’s the least I can do. Nobody will know you have ever been here.”

  “And you need to keep that entire episode with your wife under wraps. I know you want to punish the men who did it, but that’s my lane. I want to talk to that final man. Make sure he doesn’t ‘escape.’”

  “Of course. I understand. And my men understand. Look, I have to get you out of here if you want to stay hidden, and I have to remain on the ferry.”

  Pike stuck his hand out and said, “I’ll contact you in a few days. Good luck with the press on this mess.”

  Felipe shook his hand forcefully and said, “This will be the first time in a week when I’m glad they’re here. They’re going to film our entry into the harbor. This is going to be a great day.”

  Pike said, “Felipe, you deserve it. I appreciate the help.”

  Solemnly, Felipe said, “No, no. It is I who appreciates what you’ve done.”

  Someone shouted at him from the ferry, Pike slapped him on the shoulder, and he left.

  The fast boat detached from the ferry, and in minutes they were back in deep water, away from the harbor and able to stand up. Knuckles had immediately taken to looking through binoculars at the ferry, watching for Willow’s exit and fighting Pike over his decision to leave her.

  Pike said, “She’ll be okay now.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see her leave the ferry. She really seems to think the entire crisis was about her.”

  “Maybe, but it wasn’t engineered. The hostage takers were truly a bunch of terrorists, but the Russians were trying to cause the assault to go bad, in effect, killing all the hostages. I thought it was because they’d found you here in Brazil, but maybe it was her. I don’t know. What I do know is that we’re going to make the rest of them pay for what they’ve done.”

  Knuckles lowered the binoculars and said, “You sure about that? We’re successful here. From what you’ve said, we were successful in Charleston as well. You want to press this? I mean, what if it leads back to Moscow? You planning to go on a killing spree there?”

  Pike exhaled and said, “I honestly don’t know right now. I’m not sure about this whole ferry thing, but what I do know is that a bunch of Russian mercenaries recognized you here in Brazil, and because of that, they tried to kill me in Charleston. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how. What I do know is that it happened. I didn’t start this war, but I’m going to finish it.”

  Knuckles listened to him, and something finally clicked in his memory. “Wait a minute . . . Pike, these fuckers were in Switzerland. That’s how they know us. It wasn’t me they recognized. It was Brett. This was from rescuing Amena. Remember, he left his target alive? You and I were forced to kill ours, but he was able to subdue his. I’ll bet that guy is here, in Brazil.”

  Pike said, “No way. Those assholes were Ukrainian and Chechen. Not Russian. There was no Russian government involvement there. It was some private mafia thing.”

  “Ukrainian and Chechen is Russian. Well, at least some of Ukraine, and definitely the Chechen part. That’s it. They aren’t private. They’re like us. A slim veneer of private over a government-sanctioned entity.”

  Knuckles saw his words held weight with Pike. He brought up the binos again and said, “You messed up their plans in Switzerland, and then we were spotted down here. They thought you were going to screw up whatever they have in play down here just like you did in Switzerland, and they went after you.”

  Knuckles heard nothing from Pike, and turned, finding him deep in thought. Pike said, “You really believe that?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Nung told you that they’d recognized members of GRS down here, and Brett and I are the only ones that could possibly be. Nothing else explains how they started tracking us—much less why they would.”

  Pike nodded, and Knuckles could see the anger bubbling just underneath the surface. Pike said, “If that’s the case, they’re professional killers. The man I took down in Switzerland was as good as you and me. He was a killing machine, and the others here are probably selected and trained the same way.”

  Knuckles smiled and said, “Well, I guess we should count our blessings for getting away.” He saw Pike’s face and said, “Right?”

  Pike glared at him, the lava of rage spilling out. He said, “I’m going to burn it down. Whatever those fucks have planned, I’m going to stop it.”

  Wanting away from the conversation, Knuckles raised the binoculars, seeing the ferry arrive at the terminal. A mass of cameras and newspeople streamed forward, a phalanx of BOPE police trying to stop the onslaught.

  He said, “We have no sanction for that, Pike. I understand the problem, but we can’t run amok whacking Russians here in Brazil.”

  Pike said, “We can, if you’ll come with me. Wolffe is on my side. And Amanda Croft is as well.”

  Knuckles glanced at him and said, “Amanda? How?”

  “She’s the one who got me the access to Felipe, because she cares about you. Not everyone in D.C. is a sniveling coward.”

  Knuckles laughed and returned to the binoculars, saying, “Amanda won’t support what you have in mind. I know her pretty well, Pike. Biblically, if you get my meaning. She won’t sanction us ripping through Brazil on a suicide run.”

  He saw the BOPE men surround the exit of the ferry, then saw Felipe giving orders to the press. The first one off was Willow, and he waited to see if she would turn and wave, knowing that was stupid because he was four hundred meters offshore.

  Her son held her hand, Felipe helped her to the stairs, and then the side of the ferry exploded, shredding the police captain and launching Willow’s body into the air.

  He blinked in disbelief. A second later, the echo of the explosion reached the boat. Pike stood up, saying, “What the fuck was that?”

  Knuckles dropped the binoculars and said, “One of the IEDs just went off.”

  He sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. Pike snatched up the binoculars and trained them on the ferry port.

  Jennifer ran up, saying, “What happened?”

  Pike surveyed the chaos and said, “One of the bombs went off. As the hostages were exiting.”

  Jennifer took the binoculars, saw the carnage, and whispered, “That’s not fair. That is not fair.”

  Pike turned to Knuckles, his voice grim, saying, “Willow was right. This wasn’t about you. It was about her. You still want to go home?”

  Knuckles felt a fury unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d often thought about the rage Pike kept b
ottled up inside of him, wondering why he couldn’t keep it at bay.

  And now he knew.

  He thought about Willow’s love of her son. Thought about her courage even with the risk of death. And then thought about the men who had done this.

  He balled his hands into fists, trying to squeeze the pain away, then slammed them into the side of the boat hard enough to cause the BOPE policeman behind the wheel to jump. He locked eyes with Pike and said, “No. I don’t want to go home.”

  He looked at the mushroom cloud forming over the ferry terminal and said, “I want to burn it all to the ground.”

  Chapter 54

  Nikita could tell Kolva was worried. Afraid that Nikita would somehow blame him for the debacle that had befallen his team. And ordinarily, Nikita probably would, but this time Kolva had an out: his sniper shot had eliminated the ombudsman target, the American woman. And Alek had a lead on the next one, conducting reconnaissance today with an execution tomorrow. That left the final one. The big one.

  They were still on track, and, while the loss of the team was a serious problem, what really aggravated Nikita was that he had been forced to leave his high-rise life of luxury and relocate to a crappy dive hotel near the airport. One without even the basic necessity of a minibar.

  Nikita said, “So two of the team are unaccounted for—including the leader, Maksim—and three are confirmed dead?”

  As far as he was concerned, the team had gotten what they deserved. They had become lax, and because of it, the BOPE had made them pay. There was no reason to bemoan the deaths, but the ones that had disappeared were a different story.

  “Yes, sir. I didn’t get a chance to sterilize their bodies before the church custodians found them. They’ll be reported with the Saint Kitts passports. It might raise our level of heat state when we use ours.”

  “That’s the least of my worries. My concern is Maksim. Artem was just a guard and knows nothing. They can torture him until he dies, but Maksim knows everything.”

  Kolva simply nodded, and Nikita could tell he wanted to be anywhere but here. Nikita said, “You’re sure that nobody realized your sniper shot set off the explosives? They believe it was a police mistake?”

  “Yes. I was able to break down the sniper’s hide and escape just by walking out of the bell tower on the island. I loaded up the vehicle with the kit and returned to the scene. Nobody paid the slightest bit of attention to the church. The weapon was suppressed, so there was no gunshot for them to pinpoint. Just the bullet breaking the sound barrier, and that was overshadowed by the explosion.”

  “Good. Good. Killing Felipe is icing on the cake. How that bastard managed to free his wife and then assault the ferry is beyond me. He didn’t appear that formidable of an opponent. It would have been perfect if you’d have killed the two Americans, but you can’t have everything.”

  Kolva’s face soured, like he’d eaten something rotten.

  “What?”

  “Sir, I hung around as long as I could, and saw all of the hostages left alive exit the boat. I didn’t see the Americans.”

  “Maybe you missed them. It was chaotic, yes? Maybe they exited while you were making your escape from the church.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s possible, but I overheard a snippet of conversation from a BBC news reporter. She said that some of the passengers claimed that their rescuers were wearing BOPE uniforms, but speaking English.”

  Nikita leaned forward, saying, “Speaking English? On the ferry?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s all I heard. I tried to get closer, and they shut down the conversation, moving past the ropes segregating the press pool.”

  And it became clear to Nikita what had happened. He snapped, “Leave me. I have to make a call.”

  Kolva snapped upright, springing out of the chair at Nikita’s tone. He said, “Yes, sir. What are my next orders?”

  His false eyeball bulging out, Nikita screamed, “To get the fuck out of this room. Go!”

  Kolva scrambled out the door, slamming it behind him, and Nikita picked up his cell phone, going through the dance with the Wagner control and gaining a conference room number. He dialed up the VPN on his laptop, and waited.

  Thirty seconds later the screen cleared, and he saw Dmitri Pavlov scowling at him. Dmitri said, “I’m assuming this is good news, since it’s an unscheduled contact.”

  Nikita had little time for his aggrieved attitude. “Sir, how is Charleston proceeding? What’s the status of Grolier Recovery Services?”

  Dmitri’s scowl deepened, and Nikita knew it wasn’t going to be good news. “Charleston was a debacle. The men I sent—the ones you vouched for—are gone. Three of them are dead, and one is missing.”

  Nikita ignored the implied placing of blame. He said, “How? They were going up against a nanny and a child.”

  “They went up against a buzz saw, and now I have to clean up the mess, just like I did before, when your men screwed up the initial attack against GRS. The only good news is the police have no idea what’s going on. It’s a quiet beach community and three murders are unheard-of. After the other two deaths in Charleston, they’re going crazy over a Caribbean drug connection. That’s the only good news.”

  The ramifications flashed through Nikita’s head like an electric current. He said, “You followed protocol, correct? You didn’t tell the men why they were hitting the targets, right?”

  Dmitri exploded, “Are you actually questioning me?”

  Nikita backpedaled and said, “No, sir, I’m just trying to understand the threat to Operation Harvest. If the missing man knows about our mission, we might be compromised.”

  Slightly mollified, Dmitri said, “They only knew about Grolier Recovery Services. They didn’t know why they were interdicting, just that they had to.”

  Nikita said, “Good, very good, but we still need to deal with the man from Grolier Recovery Services. He’s as bad as you said he was. He’s mucking up my mission down here.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Nikita told him about the loss of the team and his suspicions about the ferry rescue, ending with “We need to send in another team. One that’s prepared to fight this time.”

  “What about Harvest? Did you at least get the target?”

  “Sir? Did you hear what I just said? These men might prevent successful execution of Operation Harvest.”

  Dmitri spoke in a slow, measured cadence, repeating his question. “Yes. I heard you. Did—you—get—the—target?”

  Riled at the lack of concern, Nikita stifled what he was about to blurt out. He said, “Yes, sir. We did. I placed a sniper in a bell tower of a church overlooking the harbor as a contingency. I thought it would be because those idiots on the ferry might give up, but it turned out the Americans managed to kill them all. One of the IEDs was positioned right at the exit ramp of the ferry. When the target left the ferry, stepping on the ramp, he initiated the explosives. We killed the BOPE police chief.”

  Dmitri nodded and said, “And the target? What about her?”

  “She was standing directly behind the police chief. He absorbed the blast and shrapnel, but she was blown off the ramp and slammed into the pylons of the dock, along with her son. They’re both in the hospital and probably won’t survive. She’s eliminated.”

  Dmitri leaned back, thinking. He said, “She’s not eliminated. In fact, having her in the hospital is the worst case. You need to pull her plug. Make sure she’s dead.”

  “Sir, she’s no longer working for the foreseeable future. If ever. She’s done. We have two more targets. One—the mining minister—has been reacquired. I expect him to be eliminated tomorrow. We have his pattern of life, and we have a plan to make it happen without exposure. The other is the political target, which will require extensive planning. Harvest is on schedule, but we need to press ahead.”

  Dmitri said, “You need to understand what we’re doing here. It’s not about killing. It’s about replacing. The deaths mean nothing unless the man who
assumes the position is in our pocket. She’s still alive, which means she still holds the job title. Which also means we cannot replace her with our chosen successor. Best case, her office just quits operating while she’s in the hospital. Worst case, someone takes her job on an interim basis. Someone we don’t control, and when she dies, we now need to kill him. That won’t do. Make sure she’s dead. Force the succession process to work. Make our man get the job.”

  Nikita recognized the truth in what Dmitri said, even as he didn’t want to believe it, because he had only so many men. He finally said, “Okay, sir. I have Luca and Simon from the Amazon mission. They were going to target the politician, but I can use them for this. I’d recommend hitting the other two targets and then circling back. Let me do Harvest as planned, and then take her out.”

  “Taking her out now is the easiest thing. She’s on her deathbed. Do it now.”

  Nikita wondered if the man had actually ever been in Spetsnaz. Ever worked a sensitive mission on the ground. He carefully laid out what he saw.

  “Sir, she’s going to be in the hospital for the duration of Harvest, making killing her problematic. Let me execute the missions we have planned, and then take her out. She might be dead by then anyway. Why raise a signature now? When we kill her, it will be the first that won’t look like an accident. Think.”

  He saw Dmitri bristle yet again, and was growing weary of the show. He was the one on the tip of the spear, not that fat, pompous ass in Russia, earning money off the blood his team had spilled. He’d feared Dmitri when he’d been given the mission, but gradually, with the debacle in Charleston and other mistakes, his fear was melting away.

  Dmitri said, “Don’t question me. Unless you want to spend some time on the sharp end of a government inquiry on how you’ve been operating.”

  Nikita couldn’t believe what the man had said. Technically, private military companies were illegal by the Russian constitution, but Putin had used Wagner for every one of his escapades. Dmitri was telling him to tow the line, or get jailed for doing the very thing he was hired to execute. Telling him he was expendable. Which was the last thing on earth Nikita would tolerate. He was the apex predator. Dimitri was just another man paying the bills. The threat opened a fissure in Nikita’s commitment. Not to the mission, but to the man.