What he saw when he entered broke Kurtz's heart. In the corner of the room three young girls huddled together on a single stained mattress. They were dressed in ill-fitting lingerie, their faces smeared with makeup and tears. Kurtz collapsed against the wall and lowered the bat, his eyes misting with tears of his own.
His other two teammates stepped into the room. One of them tore off his backpack and handed the girls tracksuits. "We're here to take you home," he repeated over and over, in Portuguese.
Kurtz gritted his teeth and stepped back into the corridor. He found himself face to face with another gangster. This one was armed with a knife.
He caught the glint of steel in the corner of his eye as the wiry fighter lunged at him. Training kicked in and he managed to deflect the blow with the bat. The attacker reacted even faster, his leg flashing up in a kick that knocked the bat to the ground.
Kurtz strode after the gangster who was now backpedaling down the corridor, the knife held in front of him.
"Schwine," he hissed as he lunged forward. He grabbed the wrist of the knife-wielding hand and fired a savage punch at the man’s face. It connected with a crunch. Driving forward with pure rage, Kurtz struck again and again splitting the man’s eyebrow open and pulverizing his cheekbone. The knife dropped to the ground and he released the wrist delivering a devastating front kick. The force of the blow knocked the man backward. His head hit the floor and he stopped moving.
Kurtz retrieved the bat and was about to finish him when Brian called out, "Come on, we need to go, leave him."
He turned and saw the others had the girls and were moving them down the stairs. He gave the two injured gangsters a cursory kick and followed. When he got to the van one of the others was already in the driver’s seat. He jumped into the back and slumped in the chair.
Glancing up at the rear-view mirror, he stared directly into the eyes of one of the rescued girls. He felt like he’d been punched in the throat. Emotion choked him and tears welled up again. The pretty face smiled and Kurtz looked away. Catching one of the other volunteers staring at him, he took a deep breath and struggled to contain himself.
An hour later Kurtz was back in his room at a cheap hostel. He’d managed to slip away from the rest of the men who were celebrating in a local bar. The girls were safe, handed over to a sister agency who would work with the authorities to return them to their families.
He knew he should have felt good. He’d saved the day and the girls were safe. Job well done, as Bishop would have said. He clenched a fist as his thoughts turned to his former teammates. It had been over a month since he had abandoned them in Japan. A month filled with self-loathing, self-doubt, and heavy drinking. He grabbed the bottle of Brazilian rum that sat next to his bed and took a swig. "Fuck Bishop, and fuck PRIMAL," he mumbled as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He slumped back onto the hard mattress and wept. "I'm sorry, Karla, I'm so sorry."
***
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Silkstone grew up on a steady diet of Tom Clancy, James Bond, Jason Bourne, Commando comics, and the original first-person shooters, Wolfenstein and Doom. His background includes a career in military intelligence and special operations, working alongside some of the world’s most elite units. His love of action-adventure stories, his military background, and his real-world experiences combined to inspire the no-holds-barred PRIMAL series, including PRIMAL Origin, PRIMAL Unleashed, PRIMAL Vengeance, PRIMAL Fury, PRIMAL Mirza, PRIMAL Inception, and PRIMAL Reckoning.
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PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) Page 31
