Ezra had managed to work his way to the far side of the olive trees, he saw Dillon rolling and heard the Heckler firing at the Assassins, who were dropping like stones all around him. And then all was quiet.
There was a click, followed by a concussive boom. One of the two Assassins carrying the missile launcher was picked up and tossed spinning into the air and slammed into the trunk of a tree. All that remained of the dead Assassin was its badly burnt body minus both legs and what was left of the upper arms, the grenade blast so fierce, that it had literally ripped the Assassin open as easily as shelling a pea from its pod. Smoke spiralled up into the air, and Dillon threw another grenade for good measure, taking out the second Assassin in the blink of an eye.
Dillon could hear the sound of death all around him.
And then chaos prevailed. Assassins came from all directions, black-clad, hooded and lethal; some carried small cross-bow, while others held mini-Uzi sub-machine guns firing on semi-automatic. Dillon and the security guards were responding with short bursts of return fire and grenades. Seconds later, detonations sounded and Dillon grabbed Tatiana’s arm and led the way towards, what they had first thought, was simply Ezra’s villa - Ezra’s home.
Ezra was knelt down on one knee, the Heckler MP5 held firmly to his shoulder, firing short bursts at the Assassins nearest to him; talking rapidly into his headset. He was giving orders to his people inside the locked-down chamber who were monitoring the scene outside through the network of covert cameras and who were also operating fixed position machine guns to little or no effect due to the Assassin’s stealth and turn of speed... His new instructions were implemented immediately. Commands were input and soon the computers took control of the machine guns, which started firing short bursts of tenmillimetre hollow-point rounds. Locked onto their targets; the bullets were like scythes, dropping Assassins like flies as each round slammed into their heads.
Those Assassins left standing diverted their attention towards Dillon and Tatiana and chips of stone and render were chewed from the wall behind them.
“Hell, where did they come from,” he shouted above the noise of chaos and destruction, dropping low to the ground and changing the magazine in the Heckler. The Assassins charged - and were cut down by Ezra’s Heckler, felling them like trees, their bodies thrown limp like rag dolls.
They hit the ground hard.
Three rolled and sprang back onto their feet. The advanced lightweight body armour that they were wearing, saving them from certain death.
Dillon wiped the sweat from his eyes, wiped his hands on his desert combats and fired another short burst of rounds at the remaining Assassins who were firing from the edge of the olive trees.
Dillon blinked.
Something dark and ominous crept like a black fog across his soul; superimposed across the beauty before him was a dark shroud like nothing he had ever seen before and his senses flowed, time slowed, everything became 3-Dimentional High-Definition.
“We have to get back, back inside the villa...” he hissed.
Tatiana nodded, gun clasped tight.
They moved forward using a low retaining wall as cover. Bullets were coming thick and fast at them, and the Assassins still standing, were firing on full automatic, the smell of cordite all around them.
“What is it?”
“There were seven Assassins, and now there are only four of those bastards firing at us. So where are the other three?”
Dillon’s comms. earpiece crackled and Ezra was talking to him, “Dillon, place your hands over your ears and keep them there.”
Dillon relayed Ezra’s instruction to Tatiana. But, she’d also heard her uncle over her own comm-link, and both hands were already held tightly over her ears.
A moment later the first of five stun grenades went off, followed by the next and the next... Everything immediately became quiet. Only the breeze running through the trees could be heard.
The sun beat down. Dillon wiped sweat from his brow. His mouth was dry - too dry. His body ached from the beatings he’d recently received at the hands of the Assassins. Worst of all was the pain in his lower back, the pain annoyed him and partially impaired his movement.
There was a distant boom of heavy-calibre.
The missile hit the villa with devastating effect. The entire west wing and immediate out-buildings had been disintegrated, flattened to the ground with brick, plaster, and timber blown everywhere. Fire was already ripping through the rest of the villa. Dillon shook his head, slung his Heckler over his shoulder and grabbed Tatiana’s hand.
“This is madness - we have to leave.”
“Where’s Ezra?”
“It’s too late for him. They’re using ship to shore stinger missiles from a boat out there,” Dillon gestured towards the ocean in the distance. “Come on!”
“Dillon, I don’t want to die like this” said Tatiana.
“I don’t want to die at all,” said Dillon.
They sprinted up the path and around the corner of the villa. Dillon ducked as a number of bullets smacked into the render just above his head. There was a scream to his left as Spiros was knocked off his feet, the side of his head wiped away with a large calibre sniper’s rifle. Death had been instantaneous. Tatiana screamed, and Dillon leaped up and emptied a full magazine in the general direction of the Assassin who had fired the lethally accurate shot.
Dillon spun round - was too late, a black clad figure was upon him... Tatiana’s gun rattled in her hands and the sound of gunfire was all around him... He was slammed down hard against the dirt, and for a second thought he was actually dead. Dillon kicked out, rolled over and the dead body slithered off of him, he sprang up on to his haunches and started to move back towards the tunnel entrance, keeping Tats close to him every inch of the way.
Dillon motioned her to stay low, and as they rounded a corner, he pulled free, raised the Glock in his left hand and shot the Assassin standing in their path through the back of the head, watching blood and gore spray and the figure collapse in a tangle of limbs. Dillon grabbed Tatiana’s hand, and as they stepped over the dead body, he said in a raised voice, “Where the hell is Ezra?” Tatiana said nothing.
Dillon glanced round at her to make sure she was okay, “You okay?” A figure ran at them head-on - Tatiana whimpered - the mini Uzi machine pistol in the figures hand lifted a fraction and Dillon could see the finger on the trigger, sensed the applied pressure, pushed Tatiana away and squeezed the Heckler’s trigger as the same time as he dived. Bullets lightly kissed Dillon’s cheek, so close that he momentarily felt the heat of their passing; a line of bullets caught the figure and slammed it into the air, arms flaying around wildly, then it landed twisted and dead.
“Let’s go.” Dillon snatched Tatiana’s hand and dragged her after him. To one side he could see some of Ezra’s men fighting hand to hand with a small group of Assassins, in what looked like a bloody exchange of knives.
Dillon sprinted towards the entrance of the tunnel and stopped a short distance away. He checked behind him.
He wasn’t sure how many Assassins were left, or how many of Ezra’s security force were still standing - as he glanced down at Tatiana, who had been dragged along behind him in his mad flight for safety away from the furious gun battle. There were spots of blood on her face, and Dillon could feel her hands shaking. He looked into her eyes and said slowly, “Don’t panic, Tats. I promise you, we are notgoing to die - and I willprotect you. But I need you fully focused. Come on, we have to keep moving, and Ezra’s escape route is at the end of that tunnel”
“But how...”
“Don’t worry about it. I will look after you.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her gently.
Dillon found himself remarkably calm, an insane sort of calmness which he had only rarely experienced in extremely dangerous situations.
He was thinking in black and white. Everything was suddenly very clear - logical.
He felt no panic, no fear.
It was wh
at had set him apart from all of the other field officers during his time at Ferran & Cardini.
“Follow me.”
Dillon led the way swiftly, Tatiana close behind him. They entered the mouth of the tunnel, bullet-chewed walls, and the rattle of gunfire left behind them as they moved into the underground facility. The noises of violence growing evermore distant, as they moved deeper towards their only hope of escape.
Dillon gripped the Glock tightly with his left hand and inched forward down the narrow corridor towards the security door that led to the control room. He wasn’t even sure if they would be able to gain access, he patted his jacket breast pocket, and it was still there.
His hands were slippery with sweat. Dillon paused. His senses on high-alert, his sub-consciousness screamed at him, that there was imminent danger.
Two Assassins appeared from one of the smaller side servicetunnels in a flurry of movement that shattered the otherwise stillness. Their hooded heads lowered, as they saw Dillon and Tatiana standing in front of the access door. Dillon turned, to see them both lift their Uzi’s, Dillon’s Glock snapped up and he squeezed the trigger - bullets ripped across the short space.
Dillon sprang forward as the figures came at them. One was knocked off it’s feet, as the hollow-point bullets, that Dillon favoured, smashed into its head. The other Assassin leaped at him as…
…the Glock clicked on empty.
The dead man’s click - usually meant the kiss of death...
A fist was thrown forward, only just missing Dillon’s nose as he swayed backwards, and then spun; his left elbow coming around with incredible speed against the back of the Assassin’s head, which was hammered forward and down by the blow. Down onto Dillon’s knee that was already travelling up, and which connected with boneshattering force.
But the figure still managed to slam a fist into Dillon’s kidneys.
He was knocked sideways, searing pain, through his torso, spittle spraying from his lips. He seemed to momentarily halt in mid air, then fell suddenly and hit the ground hard with a dull thud, groaning with the incredible pain. The Assassin stepped over him, moving towards Tatiana.
Dillon rolled over, temporarily unable to move.
Tatiana cowered in front of the masked figure, which was poised, ready to strike. The Assassin stopped, effortlessly bent down to retrieve its Uzi and then pointed the black emotionless muzzle at Tatiana’s face.
Dillon, in his state of immobility, fumbled a fresh mag into his gun; then he brought the Glock up and rolling over fired the pistol one round at a time; all time had slowed and Tatiana was about to be executed in front of him. It would be his fault, and he had promised to keep her safe. Promised to protect her. Promised to keep her alive!
The first three hollow-point bullets hissed past the Assassin’s head.
The black-clad figure spun round - but Dillon wasn’t fazed, he kept on firing and bullet number seven found its mark. The figure was suddenly jerked and kicked back, holed and smashed and bleeding profusely, to twist and land in a heap in the dirt next to Tatiana. She recoiled away from the body, her face contorted with the absolute horror of the scene, and then she started to weep with the trauma of what had just taken place. And just how close she had come to being executed. Dillon felt the Glock click - the magazine empty, and he reloaded with a fresh mag and pushed himself up onto his knees.
“Behind...” came a voice from deep within his sub-conscious.
Dillon rolled, faster than any middle-aged man had a right to move. A line of bullets peppered the rough-hewn walls to his side in a shower of rocks and thick dust. Dillon’s eyes fixed on the swaying figure of the Assassin, the side of its head partially torn open, a sticky thick trail of blood and gore covering the hood and soaking the black outfit. The Assassin’s cheek hung as a loose flap of skin.
Dillon sprang to his feet on a surge of adrenalin, and leapt.
The Uzi spat once - and was silenced.
Dillon took the bullet; a lucky shot, that had sliced across his side just below his ribs and the body-armour he was wearing. Searing heat erupted as the bullet carved a neat line of fresh blood to soak into Dillon’s clothing. The force of the blow spun him around and sent him crashing to the ground.
There was no pain.
That’s really bad, he thought.
No pain is really bad.
He rolled over, his blood covered hand in front of his face, and the sticky red liquid looked dangerous. It looked bad, the colour of something that shouldn’t see the light of day.
Fuck, mused his subconscious, suddenly calm.
The Assassin should have been dead, but Dillon had seen this drug induced trance once before and, to his mind, this was the only explanation for the Assassin to still be standing. Dillon watched as it swayed around, in slow motion, in its own pain, as it fitted a fresh magazine to the Uzi. Dillon could do nothing. The Assassin stepped lightly forward, intense stare boring down into him and he recognised that gaze, those insanely blue eyes, from back in Scotland, from back at his home when it had been violated.
“Nice to see you again,” he croaked.
“Mr Dillon. It has been a pleasure.”
The soft female voice held no pain, no emotion? Thought Dillon. And there was that voice again, were these Assassins all female, or was his mind playing tricks on him?
Dillon could see the finger start to gently squeeze the Uzi’s trigger. And the Assassin’s hooded face exploded.
Dillon watched, dumbstruck, as a rain of blood, brains and fragments of skull showered him. The black-clad figure crumpled slowly to the ground and was then completely still.
Dillon’s focus switched: from the corpse in the foreground to behindthe corpse where Tatiana stood, Uzi in her hands, a faint almost hysterical smile on her lips.
“You owe me a big one, Dillon,” she whispered weakly.
Dillon coughed, and said. “I need something to cover this wound,” his voice was soft, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Warmth had spread across his torso and down to his crotch.
Tatiana knelt by his side, inspecting the long bullet wound running down Dillon’s side. Her gaze met his. She swiftly tore the arms off of her shirt and made a thick pad, which she applied, and Dillon’s world of pain exploded to a new height of searing heat, that made him gasp and expel a string of expletives...
And the headache inside his head started to burn.
Returned to burn deep inside his brain.
“Tats, this is turning out to be a shit day,” he croaked.
Dillon struggled to his feet, the pad of cloth pressed firmly to his side by his trouser belt. Tatiana bent, retrieved his Glock and helped him reload the blood spattered weapon with a fresh mag. They both took the Uzi’s off of the dead Assassins’ bodies, slinging the weapons over their shoulders and then they took a deep breath.
“What now?” Tatiana’s voice was barely a whisper.
“We get the hell out of here, that’s what.” Dillon patted his jacket pocket, the small digital device wasn’t there, panic immediately gripped him and a bitter bile rose up into his throat. It must have fallen out during the fight. He started frantically looking around the tunnel for the device, and moments later, Tatiana picked it up from out of the dirt; covered in congealing blood and grime.
“What do I do with this, Dillon?” Asked Tatiana softly, her shaking hands holding the device up for Dillon to see.
“It’s a digital lock reader. Hold it over the DigiPad on the door and push the button in the left-hand corner. The numbers will all change from red to blue when it has the combination sequence.” Dillon said, holding a hand to his head that felt like it was going to split open at any second.
Tatiana followed Dillon’s instructions, one by one, each of the red lights turned to blue, and a moment later the access door to the control chamber slid silently open.
“Come on,” she said, finding a new level of strength, feeling the adrenalin surge through her battered body once more. She entered
the chamber with the Uzi held tightly, her finger on the trigger. Looking around the empty room, everything was as she had seen it earlier, but now it was only the monitor screens that emitted any form of life. “Dillon, you’d better take a look at this.”
Dillon stood by her side, the screens were linked to cameras and what he was watching made a shiver run up his spine, and then all the way down again. Outside of the tunnel entrance a close combat fight was taking place between at least a dozen of Ezra’s security guards and Assassins, who out-numbered them by two to one. “Shit. We have to get out of here - fast...” Tatiana and Dillon both heard Ezra’s voice in their earpiece and the message was simple - it was time to leave the party.
They had exactly sixty seconds, before the Electro Magnetic Impulse went off.
All of the computers started to shut down and the stark white lighting turned to red. Dillon led the way to the escape panel, and into the escape chute.
They stopped just behind the doorway, Dillon listening intently for any sounds outside in the main tunnel. And then the devil himself started banging on the metal door. They were using a large calibre Gatlin gun in the tunnel outside, to smash through the door. He pushed the button that Ezra had shown him to initiate a full lockdown, then jumped into the brake seat of the sled, and motioned Tatiana to also get in. “No time to lose, Tats - they’re knocking at the door.”
I hope this thing works,” she muttered, getting into the forward seat of the sled.
Dillon released the brake and the sled started to ease forward. A moment later; and they were hurtling down through the tiny tunnel towards the exit at the base of the cliffs.
The sled ran noisily on its mono-rail track, all the time picking up speed as it descended the one thousand two hundred feet to sea level. Dillon fought with the brake around the bends, and let the bullet shaped toboggan run free on the straights, moments later they shot out of the tunnel in a shower of sparks; Dillon applied full brakes, slowing to a halt into a cavernous area where two other escape sleds had already been abandoned.
Chimera Code (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) Page 26
