The Wraith: Danger Close (Superhero by Night Book 4)

by Jeffery H. Haskell

  I froze, waiting to hear a cry of alarm or a sudden thump of boots as the enemy charged.

  Nothing.

  A predatory grin spread on my face. It was time to hunt! I slunk down the stairs, moving ever so carefully to keep the wood from creaking. The next level was the entrance to the house proper.

  Since I only saw a dozen or so guards milling about, the vast majority of them had to be on the perimeter. The house was set into the mountain, peeking out into the yard through huge glass windows that displayed the living room and kitchen. Sliding glass doors allowed for access into and out of the house. The yard itself was awash with green grass and a few trees.

  I could fight all the guards, killing them one by one, but that wasn’t the mission. I wanted El-jefe. The boss.

  I leaped off the side of the stairs before I reached the bottom, landing in a crouch five feet below..

  Scanning before I moved, I carefully checked on each of the auras I could see. None of them seemed to notice me.

  “Wraith, I’m picking up some weird electrical activity in the house, not sure what it is, but be careful,” Arsenal said.

  I nodded more to myself than her as I stealthily ran to the sliding glass door. They weren’t locked, but the two guards, one on the couch, the other in the kitchen, would immediately notice if they were opened.

  Immediately not being fast enough, I drew the pistol and took a deep breath, then slid the door open wide enough to stick my arm through and shot the first one in the back of the head. The soft crack of the gun was loud in the small room, but overall very quiet.

  The kitchen guard jerked aware, opening his mouth to shout while he drew his own pistol from a kidney holster. My pistol cracked again; the bullet caught him in the open mouth and he stumbled backward and slid down the fridge leaving a smear of blood behind.

  I slipped in, closed the door slowly behind me, and moved into the house.

  “Any alarms?” I asked my overwatch.

  “Negative. Epic has their security system on lock down. All their cameras and motion detectors are reporting normal. You’re good.”

  Having an AI on my side was advantageous. It made me wonder if Krisan could learn to do the things he did?

  He? Ha, thinking of him as a person was pretty easy after having talked to him. The way he sassed Amelia made me think that she was right; he truly was a living being, just an electronic one.

  There were two doors off the living room, plus one out of the kitchen and a hall leading to the back of the house. The door in the kitchen led to stairs that went down to the next level. The doors off the living room were a bathroom and closet; that just left the hallway.

  Sneaking was second nature to me at this point, moving without making a sound and sticking to the shadows.

  There were four doors in the hall. The first one I opened was a kids room. Inside, sleeping on a bunk bed, were two kids.

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  “What’s wrong?” Amelia asked.

  “Kids,” I said in a whisper.

  She didn’t respond. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.”

  The next two doors were also kids, older, but kids.

  That meant the last door was the master bedroom. It galled me that the head of a Mexican drug cartel would have such a normal family. Was it just normal to grow up knowing your father was a mass murder and enslaver?

  I opened the last door and saw two people sleeping in the bed. Perfect.

  I moved around the room, opening the drawers and looking for weapons—none. There was a panic button under the nightstand that Epic had disabled, but that was it. I moved one of the chairs in the room to the foot of the bed, facing the sleeping couple. I de-cocked the pistol so I could use the hammer pull as a threat later.

  Sitting down, I lifted up the blanket and hit Acosar in the foot a couple of times with the barrel of my gun.

  He sat up in a hurry. I pointed the gun at him and put a finger over my mouth until he nodded.

  “You scream, yell, or otherwise alert your guards, and everyone dies. Got it?”

  He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re, El Espectro, aren’t you?” he whispered.

  “It means, The Wraith,” Arsenal translated for me. “You’re just bluffing about everyone dying, right...”

  Great. Now was not the time to have this conversation with her. Hopefully the trust I built with her earlier would do me some good.

  I nodded. “You’ve heard of me. Good. This will make it easier for you. Where is Mr. Axiom?” I said, getting right to the point.

  “Who?”

  I moved the gun to hover over his wife and carefully pulled the hammer back, glad that I had prepared for this.

  “No wait,” he said holding his hands up. “If you know who he is then you know his power... Please don’t hurt Freír. She may know more than me... May I wake her?” he asked.

  I nodded, putting the gun back on him. He gently shook his wife awake, her eyes fluttered open and I immediately realized my mistake.

  About a half second later the bolt of lightning hit me square in the chest, lifting me off the chair and slamming me into the far wall then holding me there for a moment while the electricity grounded out. When she dropped her hands I fell on top of their dresser in a heap, choking and coughing.

  My body felt like I’d just run a hundred mile marathon in the Sahara desert. I rolled off the dresser onto the ground, hitting on my knees and elbows painfully.

  “You think you can come in here and threaten us? Where our children sleep!” she yelled. Electricity crackled around her again as she pulled ions from the air. It danced between her fingers, lighting up her eyes as the charge built. “I will burn you,” she growled.

  I was trying to move, screaming internally at my muscles to do something, anything. They wouldn’t respond.

  As she raised her arms up to blast me, the roof exploded inward, covering them in dust and debris.

  Arsenal hit the ground in a crouch, one fist slamming into the floor while she dropped to a knee.

  “It’s the woman,” I yelled as my muscles started to come back to life.

  Freír pointed her hands at Arsenal and let loose. A clap of thunder knocked her husband sideways and blasted away the bed frame she was standing on as the lightning bolt slammed into Arsenal. The light and energy from her bolt made it clear she’d only hit me with a love tap.

  All I could think was Amelia was dead. She wore a metal suit. She’d be cooked like an egg.

  The lightning hit her and splintered, wrapping around the suit and grounding out into the floor to light the carpet on fire.

  “How?” Freír yelled as she continued to poor electricity into the armored superhero.

  I heard her voice perfectly over the noise.

  “Science,” she said. Then slapped the woman across the face, knocking her out.

  “I don’t suppose,” I said while I pulled myself up and retrieved my pistol. “You would consider giving me one of those suits?”

  Arsenal chuckled. “No. It’s trademarked tech. I have to protect it or I lose the exclusive rights,” she said.

  I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not. But we had other problems.

  “Arsenal, get the kids to safety, I’ll deal with security.”

  She looked at me through her Spartan themed mirrored faceplate. “Wraith...”

  “You save lives, I take them. Go,” I said. I checked my pistol to make sure it was okay. It was.

  I didn’t wait for her response, I shadow stepped out of the room up into the air, then another onto the roof before I could fall. I stepped out of the shadows running. Wraith-sight showed dozens of security moving into position, with their weapons pointed at the house. If they opened fire the odds of one of those kids getting hit was stupid high. Which meant I needed them shooting at something else.

  As I ran for the edge I unscrewed the silencer. Leaping off with as much strength as I could, I flew high through the air. At the apex of my jump, I
threw the silencer at the nearest guard. It hit him in the head, sending him stumbling backward as he cursed in Spanish.

  I hit the ground in a roll, coming up and firing three rounds at the nearest guy. That got their attention. They had been in a semi-circle facing the house but now they swiveled to shoot at me, standing in between them.

  They had a mix of Sig Saur MPX submachine guns and the ubiquitous AK-47. The gunfire was deafening as the opened up at full auto.

  I vanished in a flash of blue light, shadow stepping to the far wall where I came out, hit the wall with my foot, and pushed off to land a right cross on the closest guard. He spun around, gun firing wildly as he went down. I rolled forward over him and chopped the butt of my gun down on his throat to finish the job.

  Rounds tore through me; one hit my arm, another skimmed my scalp. I twisted and fired three rounds at the shooter, catching him in the chest with two of them as I shadow stepped again.

  Then the rush started hitting me. I could feel Spice’s glee, or maybe it was my imagination, as the bodies started dropping.

  I was out of the shadows on the other side of the courtyard, behind a tall, well-built man with an AK; I hit him in the back of the knee before putting the gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

  In the din of gunfire, the sound of a pin being pulled caught my ear. I immediately shadow stepped opposite where I was, not wanting to risk a grenade to the face.

  It wasn’t a grenade, but a magnesium starburst flare. It shot into the air, illuminating the courtyard and the house in a cone of light so bright I could’ve mistaken it for the sun.

  “Well, crap,” I muttered.

  Where darkness shrouded me before, there was bright light. And the many remaining guards all saw me easily.

  I ran forward, firing the last few rounds from my pistol at the closest guy. The bullets tore into him, causing him to shake like an experimental dancer on Broadway. I dropped to the ground in a slide, grabbing the AK he carried while simultaneously kicking him in the gut as hard as I could. I was pretty sure he was already dead at that point.

  Since the human eye is drawn to movement, his flying form bought me a second to kip-up and open fire with the AK. It roared through the night as I ran for the stairs that led to the next level. I had to keep the fire away from the house until Arsenal told me it was safe. Bullets pinged off the wall and dirt all around me. One hit me in the back, knocking me forward. I turned the momentum into a roll, came out of it on top of the stairs and leaped for the next level...

  …a pool and Jacuzzi and some kind of outdoor kitchen. It was enclosed by a tall brick wall covered with razor wire. The doorway leading out was a barndoor style with a lever lock.

  Four guards, one in each corner, turned to look as I hit the stairs, leaped on the rail and slid down on my butt. They opened fire with automatic weapons, chewing the stairs to pieces.

  I hit the ground and rolled, firing as I came up, taking down the first one on the right then the next one as I walked forward, weapon shouldered, trying not to let my thumping heart and adrenaline get the better of me.

  A round hit me in the back and another in my leg. Spice was on full pain suppression duty while also kicking my regeneration into high gear as I offed one guard after another.

  I took down the third man then the last bullet exited the barrel—the trigger simply clicked. The fourth guard had a semi-automatic shotgun that hit me right in the chest, flinging me away from him like I was shot out of a cannon.

  More of the guards from above clambered down, shooting wildly at me. I staggered to the side, feeling the impacts as each of the bullets hit me.

  The shotgun roared again, hitting me in the side. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but blackness took me.

  Was this it?

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Is she dead?” Pedro asked the man next to him.

  “How the hell should I know,” Oscar replied. They had almost fifty men on site and this woman on the ground had killed nearly twenty of them before they brought her down. She was covered in blood, lying face down in the grass next to the pool. Oscar briefly thought how attractive she would be naked… if not for all the people she had just killed.

  Eight of them circled her. None were tempted to go and nudge her to see if she really was alive.

  “What’s that noise?” a man whose name Oscar couldn’t remember said from behind. They looked up where the sound was coming from and they saw her, like an angel descending from heaven.

  The brushed metallic armored figure hit the ground beside the fallen assassin, absorbing the impact with a light crouch as her arms came up. Blue bolts fired from the gauntlets making a sound like a battery discharging mixed with sandpaper.

  Guard after guard fell, slammed away from the armored superhero as she methodically took each one out. Oscar screamed, opening fire with his SMG on the new intruder. The bullets didn’t even ricochet off her armor, they simply stopped in midair, inches from impact.

  Her helmet swiveled to face the man next to him and a light flashed. The man was lifted off the ground, screaming as he was flung bodily back thirty feet to crash against the wall.

  Oscar’s gun ran out of ammo. He fumbled the magazine release, his hands shaking so badly that he had to hit the button twice. He then tried to get the spare magazine out of his pants but he couldn’t get his hands inside his pocket.

  That’s when the silence hit him.

  He looked up; he was the only one standing. He ditched the SMG and pulled his pistol, an old, faithful .44 magnum revolver that his father had given him.

  “Really?” the armored figure’s voice was surprisingly girlish.

  She reached out and took the gun from his hands, bending it into a useless chunk in front of his eyes. “Do you speak English?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Si, uh, señorita,” he said.

  “The kids are up on the top of the mountain, safe and sound. Please go get them and make sure they are okay. Got it?” she asked.

  Oscar just nodded. He then looked past her and noticed the woman with the red scarf was missing. He was thirty-years old and never in his life had anyone scared him so bad. He tried to ignore the pee running down his leg as he ran for the stairs.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  I was grateful for Arsenal’s intervention; it let me recover and head back up to the top of the house. If the kids were safe, I could finish my interrogation. I moved like a shadow, quiet and invisible, up the wall separating the level. I was on the other side and in the house in seconds. I didn’t know how much energy Spice had to spare for me, which made me want to conserve using my powers unless I really needed them.

  I went down the hall and noticed the doors were open and the beds empty. Good.

  Inside the master bedroom, Acosar was trying to rouse his wife. I was starting to wonder who was actually in charge of the cartel. By the time I entered the room I was completely healed and ready to finish this. I drew the sword and whipped it at him, using the point under his chin to stand him up.

  “What do you want?” he cried.

  “I want peace on earth and good will toward men,” I said, “but I’ll settle for justice. Tell me where Axiom is?”

  His wife coughed and I kicked her in the face then immediately pressed my boot heel down on her throat. Very few people can do anything but panic when they are choking. I didn’t need her using her powers.

  “We don’t know. Please!” he said. “We have children.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “The girls you abduct are someone’s children,” I said pressing my boot heel harder on his wife. She spasmed as her body fought for air.

  “All I have is a bank account number, that’s it!” he shouted. “Now stop!”

  I let my boot up and she rolled over, coughing and crying as she took in lungfulls of air.

  “The number. Now.”

  He ran over to the shattered remains of his night table and dug through it until he found a book. He opened it and found the number, s
howing me with his finger. I grabbed the whole book from him, figuring it could be useful.

  I looked around the room: his coughing, choking wife, this man of power cowering in front of me—rage boiled up inside of me. For every group I stopped, more started up.

  There could be no mercy, no forgiveness. No one could escape my wrath.

  “Now get out of my house,” he said with a sudden surge of courage. I jumped forward, running him through the chest with my sword, piercing his heart and killing him instantly before yanking the blade out and slicing it through the throat of his wife.

  “You can’t escape justice,” I said aloud.

  “Is that what that is, Madisun? Justice?” Arsenal whispered from the doorway. “From here, it looks an awful lot like revenge.”

  I grabbed a handful of blanket and cleaned the sword off before sliding it back into my sheath.

  “Justice is about balance, revenge is about anger. And yeah, I’m angry, but not at them, not them personally, just their kind. The rapists, murderers, slavers—all those who do evil unto others. They need to fear me, Arsenal. They need to be so effing afraid of me that they would rather stay in their houses than leave to commit atrocities,” I said to her as I walked passed toward the exit. “We going?”

  “Yeah. I guess we’re done here,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 12

  One of the nice things about her being super rich, she had a full bathroom on the jet, including a hot water shower. And not a dinky little one, but a full-sized, glass-door, multiple-headed shower. I almost wanted to ask her how she could do it but I gathered the answer would just confuse me.

  I soaped up, washing off the grime, letting the water with dirt and blood run down my dark skin until I was clean. The hot water dripped off of every inch of me while I stood under the spray, letting it hit the back of my neck and shoulders. I explored the places I’d been hit but there were no holes, no scars, no sign I’d ever even taken damage.