John straightened up and dropped the rifle at his feet as he strode forward. “It’s over, Kingston.”
“What are you going to do, arrest me?” he asked, tugging at the cuffs of his shirt to pull them out of the jacket sleeves.
“The CARR Group is finished. With or without your help, we’ve got enough to work our way up the ladder.”
“Work your way up?” Faust’s expression was a mix of anger and insult. “There is no ladder. I’m at the top. The number one man in charge of this company.”
John reached the CEO and looked down at him. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better about all of this,” he said. “You won’t be able to shield the others from justice.”
“I don’t think my words are penetrating that thick skull of yours. Do you know who I am?” He jabbed a finger in John’s direction. “I’m Faust Kingston. Damien Blanchard’s number one guy. I’ll bury you and your pathetic friends.”
“Don’t worry, Blanchard’s next,” John said. “You’re all going to fall for what you’ve done. CARR, INSEC, the Four Serpents. All of it.”
Faust brushed his hands back, smoothing his hair. “So what are you going to do now? Arrest me? I’ve got the best lawyers on retainer,” Faust said. “I pay a thousand dollars for my haircut. My shoes cost more than your house. I’ll be out in an hour, Stone. And when that happens, I’ll make sure every one of your friends and family are dead.”
John’s jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes.
“Oh, did that strike a chord? I know all about you, John Stone. Maybe I’ll send you a video of your buddy’s wife, Jennifer Colt just as I put a bullet in her skull.” Faust’s sadistic grin stretched across his tanned face. “Maybe I’ll just bring her home to live with me.”
“I highly recommend that you shut your mouth, Faust.” John grabbed a handful of the man’s jacket.
“What, you reading me my rights now?” Faust asked. “I have the right to remain silent? How about I bring her little girl, Emily into my home as well? You think your little threats scare me? I’ve got friends so deep in the government they’ll have your entire record erased.”
John pulled him closer. Faust bared his teeth, fire and fury in his eyes as he unleashed two brutal hooks to the Ranger’s ribs. He followed with a right hook across John’s jaw.
“You finished?” John asked with a smile, unfazed by the attack.
“This isn’t over, Stone. You’re dead! Everyone you love is dead! I’m not going down like this!”
“No. You’re going down like this.” John lifted Faust up by his jacket, grabbing his leg and pressing the CEO’s body up over his head.
With an animalistic cry, John hurled Faust Kingston over the ledge of the building. He whipped his arms wildly, trying to swim through the air as he flew across the courtyard. His frantic cries drew the eyes of all the INSEC mercenaries still outside.
Faust hit the still spinning rotors of the waiting helicopter. His body exploded into a spray of blood, flesh, and bone. Scraps of clothing and jewelry clung to the bits as the soldiers nearby were showered with gore.
Planting his foot on the edge of the roof, John scooped up a rifle from one of the dead soldiers and brought it up to his shoulder, taking advantage of the traumatic scene the enemy below had just witnessed. He pulled the rifle tight and pressed the trigger, firing burst after burst at the fleeing mercenaries below.
* * *
Most of the soldiers dove for cover. A few could barely hold it together, staring at the blood and guts covering their bodies. One or two had the wits to return fire, but John cut them down quickly enough. He held the high ground and had far more battlefield experience than then foes he targeted.
His rifle ran dry, and he tossed it over the edge, reaching down to retrieve the other one from the guard that brought Faust to the roof. Bullets struck the side of the building nearby, but John continued his attack.
A rhythmic thumping joined the quick stuttering of burst fire from his assault rifle. Helicopters approached from the darkness, swooping in to join the battle.
“Your back up should be there by now,” Travis said.
A pair of choppers circled the compound as their gunners rained fire down on what was left of the enemy. Tracers lanced out, tearing up the hard-packed earth and shredding the construction materials stacked outside of the base.
More Blackhawks swooped in as soldiers fast-roped to the ground, taking up positions to press the attack and finish off the opposition. Seconds after the shooting started, it was already over as the remaining INSEC forces all tossed their weapons away and surrendered.
Soldiers dressed in dark BDUs swarmed over the battlefield, securing weapons and restraining the enemy combatants. A familiar voice came across the radio to address John.
“Did you leave any fun for us?” Curtis Clarke asked.
“Just the garbage collection, Lieutenant,” John said, with a tired smile.
CHAPTER
45
“Get a medical team into the cell blocks right away,” Curtis said to one of his team leads.
“Yes sir,” the man said rushing to execute the orders.
“I don’t even want to know what this is all about,” Curtis said, pointing to the gore covered helicopter sitting in front of the base’s main facility.
“Just some cog with big dreams of power,” John said. “Just figured I would help him spread his influence around.”
“Dude, this is disgusting,” Ty said, stepping out of the building.
Chance followed close behind, looking around at the carnage, just shaking his head.
“This is Lieutenant Clarke,” John said as they approached.
Curtis limped over and shook their hands.
“Still milking that old war wound, I see,” John said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Yes, I am still milking the bullet hole in my leg, from saving your ass in France,” Curtis said, failing to hide his smirk. “More importantly, did you secure any evidence?”
“Blythe is dead, but all of their files should still be in the office,” Ty said.
“This should be more than enough to bring the CARR Group down,” Chance said, gesturing to the secret base behind them.
“More than just them,” Curtis said. “This is a potentially global case we’re building here.”
“Global?” John raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. That list of names you and Parker uncovered is more than just some big wigs bankrolling a privatized prison system,” Curtis said. “We’ve got some evidence that can tie these guys to the Four Serpents in France.”
“Yeah, Faust was a part of that,” John said. “And we’re going to make sure the others pay for it as well.”
A team of soldiers carried Roland out onto a stretcher. Millie followed, holding an IV bag for him as they boarded a helicopter.
“That kid should also be able to give us enough to put the hurt on International Security as well,” Curtis said. “If he makes it, that is.”
“He’ll make it,” John said.
“Kid’s got a lot of heart,” Chance said.
“Let’s get the rest of you out of here as well,” Curtis said. “I’ll have my men bring you to the hospital as well. Get you patched up and good as new.”
Epilogue
John unzipped his jacket and rubbed his hands along sore ribs. His body ached from the battle at the Wolf’s Den. Even after several days of rest, he felt the pain and fatigue deep down.
Grabbing his cup of coffee, he walked down the hall of the hospital where Travis and Parker waited for him.
“How is Roland?” he asked.
“Stable,” Travis said. “He just got out of his second surgery a few hours ago. We should be able to talk to him soon.”
“What are the doctors saying?” John asked.
Travis shook his head, looking down at the checkered linoleum. “He’s got a long road ahead of him. Doc says he’ll probably never walk again.” He looked up at John
. “A bullet damaged his spinal cord and another all but shattered his hip. They saved the leg, but…” he let the words drift off.
“How is the case looking?” John asked.
Travis pursed his lips, still staring at the floor. “It would have been a lot stronger with Blythe and Kingston. The guys running the show really want answers about your actions.”
John nodded slowly, staring off into the distance. “Faust needed to fall. He was too dangerous.”
“That’s not our call to make,” Travis said, looking up at the Ranger.
“It is when you threaten my family. Or when you fund terrorists directly responsible for taking innocent lives,” John said. “And for killing my friend.”
“I understand why you did it, Stone. I’m not questioning that, just letting you know what to expect.” Travis leaned back against the wall. “Taking that base is going to help smooth things over. That was quite an accomplishment.”
“Can you please just go in a straight line,” someone said further down the hall.
John looked up to see Ty spinning a wheelchair around. Millie sat in the seat, trying her best to stop the movement with one arm.
“I’m the best wheel man around,” Ty said. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
She spotted the others and gave them a frustrated look. “Please tell me one of you has a pistol I can borrow. Just for a few seconds.”
“Aw, I’m hurt,” Ty said, rolling her straight ahead the last few meters.
“Speaking of hurt, how did you avoid any serious injury in all that chaos?” Parker asked.
“Bro, I thought you knew. I’m faster than a speeding bullet.”
“He hid during the fight,” Millie said. “Just like we told him to.”
“Hey, who else here has survived a grenade going off in the same room as them?” Ty asked.
John looked around the room at the others. “I think the question is who hasn’t.”
“Alright, who else has dodged a missile?”
Travis chuckled. “I think you got us there.”
Chance stepped out into the hall, his arm in a sling. He looked toward the others and gave them a short nod. “The doctor says we can see Roland now. But just a few at a time.”
“Go,” Travis said to John. “We can visit after you and Chance talk to him for a bit.”
John nodded and shook Travis’ hand. He walked over to the room where Chance waited.
“How’s the arm, Detective?”
“Man, remind me never to square up with a rhinoceros like that again,” Chance said. “Two fractures and some damage to the elbow. Should be back on the streets in a month or so.”
They stepped into the room and crept next to the bed. Roland turned his head to face him, straining to sit up and smile.
“Don’t get up on our account, kid,” John said.
He put a hand on Roland’s shoulder until he relaxed and settled back down.
“We’re just here to see how you’re holding up,” Chance said.
Roland’s voice was more of a croak from his dry throat. “Doctor says I probably won’t walk again. I’ll have to prove him wrong when I get the new hip.”
John filled a cup with water and held the straw close to Roland’s mouth so he could take a sip. “That’s the spirit. When you’re back on your feet, you can help us put the final nail in the coffin for the CARR Group.”
Roland ran a tongue across his cracked lips and nodded, the sadness in his eyes evident. “Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about your record, kid,” Chance said. “Travis already pulled some strings. By the time you get out of here, you’ll be free and clear, in exchange for your cooperation.”
He looked up at Chance. “What about the others?”
“They’re out in the hall,” John said. “They’ll pop in and say hi once we’re done.”
“No, I mean the others at the base. The inmates. They helped too. Are they just going to be transferred to another prison?”
John and Chance exchanged glances.
“I don’t know the answer to that,” John said.
“Travis will have to take a look at their files,” Chance added. “We don’t know what those guys were in for.”
“They were just like me,” Roland said. “And they also chose to help out when they learned the truth. Some of them gave up their lives for us. If they’ve got to finish their sentences, then I should be no different.”
John put a hand on Roland’s shoulder again. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Roland’s face relaxed. His eyes narrowed as he nodded. “Thank you.”
“You need to rest now,” Chance said. “Once we topple the CARR Group, you’re on deck to help us take the fight to INSEC.”
“And after that, we bring down everyone involved,” John said. “All the way to the top.”
Want more from the Manning Brothers?
Here’s a sneak peek of Danger Close
Book 6 of the John Stone Action Thriller Series
CHAPTER
1
Sacramento, California
Gabriel stared down at the body at his feet. Lifeless eyes met his gaze as blood pooled out from the target. A crimson tendril slid along a crack in the concrete slab of the patio, reaching out to grab the assassin, the victim’s last act of defiance. Gabriel’s eye followed the path, pivoting his foot on his heel as the bloody trail continued out toward the grass.
Raised to be an efficient killer since he was young, Gabriel didn’t remember his old life. And didn’t much care to, judging by the flashes of the pain and suffering of his childhood. Known to his superiors as Subject 8, he grew to be one of their most reliable assets from the Alpha program. But to his friends, his family, he answered to the name Gabriel.
“Kill confirmed,” Micah, the man next to Gabriel said.
Although he came from the same program, Micah’s designation was Subject 4. Gabriel knew that The Order used longer numbers to identify their subjects, but only the last one or two digits were ever used when talking to the assets themselves. Both men knew only their shortened number designation and had only ever been given a single name during their training.
Gabriel knelt next to his victim, Shane Weiss, and tilted his head to stare deeply into the emptiness of his target’s eyes. Micah pulled a phone from his pocket and initiated a call to the only contact programmed in it.
“It’s done,” Micah said.
“Good,” a digitally altered voice replied
“Should we cleanse the site?”
“No. We want Mr. Weiss' body found. Make it look like a home invasion.”
“Yes, sir.” Micah ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket.
“Burn it?” Gabriel asked, still looking at the man on the ground.
“Not this time,” Micah said. “He wants us to make it look like a robbery gone wrong.”
Gabriel smiled. “Perfect.”
He pulled the Cartier watch from Weiss’ wrist and stood.
* * *
Aspen, Colorado
22 Hours Later
Glenn Tannen tousled his son’s hair as he said his goodbyes through the back window of the Audi Q7. He walked up to the driver side window and gave his wife a quick kiss, exchanging pleasant words with her.
“Wait for the family to leave,” Micah said, watching the man through a Leopold Mark 4 spotting scope, lying on his belly in the snow.
“What’s the range?” Gabriel asked, fingers resting on the elevation adjustment knob of his weapon’s optic.
“Six hundred twelve meters. Wind is holding steady at five miles per hour.”
“Six hundred twelve meters. Check.” Gabriel tracked his target’s movements, holding the crosshairs steady over the man’s chest as he waved to his family on his way back to the house.
“He’s inside,” Micah said. “No shot. No shot.”
Gabriel’s jaw muscles tightened as he scanned the house through his weapon scope. His spotter di
d the same, sweeping the Mark 4 along the windows of Tannen’s home.
“I’ve got him,” Micah said. “Second floor. He’s in his office.”
“I see him,” Gabriel confirmed as he settled the sight on his man.
His body made the necessary micro adjustments to position his shoulders and legs in line for the proper angle.
“No change in the wind. Take your shot,” Micah said.
Gabriel breathed in and let the air out in a slow exhale through his nostrils in visible streams. His finger tightened on the trigger, just enough to break the resistance. The suppressed Ruger Precision Rifle coughed in the thin mountain air as the subsonic round burst through the window.
The cracked glass and red mist obscured their target as the man’s body hit the ground. Gabriel worked the bolt of his Ruger and pocketed the ejected brass. He knew in his gut that the shot was clean, punching into Tannen’s heart. But like their last target, they had strict orders to confirm the kill up close.
Micah folded his scope’s tripod, slipping it into his pocket as he unslung his MR556A1. Gabriel snapped the legs of his bipod together, using it as a foregrip as he rose to his feet.
The snow particles on his white BDU fell gently to his feet as the receding sun stretched the mountain range’s shadows, concealing the two figures stalking the house.
* * *
St. Augustine, Florida
With a grunt, John broke the bolt loose. He wiped a sleeve across his forehead as he twisted his body enough to look out from under his truck.
“Can you grab that filter wrench and drain pan for me, Parker?”
“Which one is the filter wrench? Is it this one?”
“Yes, the one that I put next to the drain pan.”
The Hard Core Page 21
