by Brent Towns
Hunt slammed the throttle all the way forward, and the stern of the SOC-R sat down hard as it shot forward.
“Reaper Team? Scimitar. Reaper Team? Scimitar. We’re coming in hot for extraction. I say again, we’re coming in hot for extraction. Get the fuck out of there now!”
The radio crackled to life. “Scimitar? Bravo Three. Zero says to hold. I repeat, Zero says to hold. Over.”
“With all due respect, Bravo Three. Fuck you! We’re going in. Out!”
Eagle Team
Cara grabbed Axe’s collar and cursed him. “Get the hell up, you big piece of shit. You’re too heavy for me to carry.”
“Leave me, I’m fucked,” Axe groaned.
“You will be if you don’t get the hell up. Move soldier! Our men need us.”
Axe groaned, “Yes ma’am.”
The big man was wounded in four places. In the left leg, the left arm, a gash on his left hip, and his scalp, just above his ear.
“Come on, Axe,” she said as she helped him up. “It’s only your left side. You’ve still got your right.”
He stood on unsteady legs while Cara picked up his HK416 and rammed a fresh magazine into it. She forced it into his right hand and said, “Just don’t shoot me with it.”
“What about the M110?”
“Leave it.”
He gave her a grimace. “Let’s go kill some of these motherfuckers before I bleed out.”
Team 1
A cartel man loomed up in front of Kane and fired a burst from his weapon. Kane felt the heat of the rounds as they passed close. He squeezed the trigger on the HK, and a burst ripped into the man’s guts.
Two more appeared as they weaved through the clumped trees on their approach to the main building. This time Kane fired first, and the killers stopped in their tracks as though they’d hit some invisible brick wall.
Suddenly, a distant Brrrrppp tore through the darkness. Red tracer rounds seemed to be everywhere in the darkness as they crisscrossed the resort grounds.
“Get down!” Kane shouted and landed on his stomach in an overgrown garden.
Traynor dived beside him and yelled, “What the hell?”
“Tracer rounds.”
“Where the fuck from?”
Kane toggled his comms. “Scimitar? Reaper One. Scimitar? Reaper One. Do you read? Over.”
“Copy, Reaper One.”
“Tell your man to stand down. I say again, stand down. You’re lighting us up.”
“Christ!” Hunt’s voice came back through the comms. Then Kane heard him shout, “What the fuck did I tell you guys about your fire discipline? Cease fire!”
Immediately the lines of tracer stopped, and the comms went dead.
Traynor said, “Speaking of lights if we could turn the bastards off, it would help us no end.”
“You’re right. Good thinking. Bravo Three, this is Reaper One, over.”
“Copy, Reaper One.”
“Does anyone know where the power supply to this place is? Over.”
There was a moment of silence before Teller came back on the air. “Reaper One, we think that the smaller construction behind building two houses everything, over.”
“Copy. Out.”
“Scimitar to Reaper One, copy?”
“Go ahead, Scimitar.”
“We can take care of that for you. We have a clear field.”
“Copy, Scimitar. All yours.”
“Wait one.”
A minute later the air was torn apart again by a long Brrrp. Tracers reached out in a long stream and then as if someone had thrown a switch, the lights went out.”
“Move, Traynor,” Kane ordered as he dropped his NVGs down. The pair came from the garden and tracked towards the door that Arenas and the others had used to get inside.
Eagle Team
With Cara in the lead, they slowly traversed the stairs. They’d met a team of three coming up, but the cartel men had lasted no longer than it took for Cara to depress the trigger. The sound of the HK echoed throughout the stairwell but was drowned out by the screams of the dying.
They pushed onward until reaching the fifth floor. A furious amount of gunfire sounded from within. Cara looked at the bloodied Axe, and he nodded. She took a step forward and then the lights went out.
As Cara cursed under her breath, a voice came over the comms. “Reaper One and Three entering the building.”
“Copy. Eagle Team on the fifth. Will hold. Out.”
“Copy.”
Team 2
Arenas was still pinned down behind the sofa and almost through his last mag. About him was so much stuffing and debris, it was a wonder the sofa still held together. Shouts by cartel men could be heard above the gunfire, and the special forces commander was thankful the fuckers couldn’t shoot for shit otherwise he’d be dead too.
At one point, they’d tried to rush the sofa but had lost three men for their troubles and pulled back. Now, though, he figured there were still four of them left.
There’d been some chatter over his comms, but he’d basically ignored it because the noise of the constant firing by the cartel men of their AKs drowned most of it out.
He rose again and fired off a burst which chipped wall tiles and thudded into plaster. The killer he was aiming at ducked back out of sight just as Arenas squeezed the trigger.
He fired again, and his last magazine ran dry, so he dropped back below his meager cover, cursing. Then he stared at the M203 and gave it some serious thought. He could take some with him that way at least. He dismissed the idea and took the Smith & Wesson M&P out of its holster. Once more he rose and fired five shots at a tattooed face.
Two of them hit the Mexican in the chest while a third burrowed into the man’s throat. A large gout of blood fountained from the rent in the flesh and sprayed red across the tiled floor.
Another man appeared, and Arenas shifted his aim. He was about to squeeze the trigger again when the lights went out.
Everything went silent. It was eerie in a way Arenas had never before experienced. One moment, the full cacophony of battle roared about him, and then it just stopped.
Arenas lowered his NVGs and peered around the edge of the sofa. He counted three Mexicans just standing there, confused. He was about to cut loose with the S&W when silenced gunfire rattled out, and the three men lurched and spasmed before collapsing.
Then three figures appeared and fanned out to sweep the room. The three voices said, “Clear.”
The lead figure looked around the room at the carnage and said, “Arenas?”
Arenas climbed to his feet. “Here.”
“Hawk?”
“He’s dead.”
“Let’s get this piece of shit out of here,” Kane hissed and dragged the now conscious Montoya to his feet. “Cara, he’s yours. If you need to put a bullet in his head, do so.”
A flashlight shone on Montoya’s face, and the cartel leader spit on the floor. “Fucking puta.”
Kane ignored him and turned to Hawk’s prone figure. He took a step forward, but Arenas stopped him. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure? He’s a shade bigger than you.”
“I can do it. Just help me get him up.”
They stripped the dead DEA agent of all his gear, and Kane helped Arenas lift him. The man was as strong as a bull.
Kane said to Traynor, “You take our six. Anything moves, kill it.”
“Copy.”
“Scimitar? Reaper One. Ready for exfil. We’re on our way with the package, over.”
“Copy, Reaper One. We’ll be watching for you. The marina is clear if you want to use it. Out.”
“Copy.”
“All right, let’s move.”
The stairwell was clear, so they had no problems reaching the ground floor. All they had to do now was get to the boat. Before they exited, Kane asked, “Has anyone seen Salazar?”
“No.”
“He must be out there somewhere,” Kane said. “Keep your eyes open. Ax
e, you need to move fast. I know you’re hurt, but you can’t lag behind.”
“Don’t worry about me, Reaper,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ll outrun you.”
When they pushed their way outside, Kane moved to the right. The team was directly behind him. Figures appeared to his right, and the HK fired a burst and made them scatter.
When he reached the fountain, he took a knee and scanned to the right of the path. As the rest of the team passed him, he spoke in an even voice to give them encouragement. Traynor stopped beside him and said, “They’re pushing in from the rear. I saw some of them using the trees for cover.”
Kane nodded. “Keep going. I’ll be right behind you.”
As the group disappeared behind him, Kane slipped a load into the M203 and fired. An orange ball of flame erupted to his front, and he heard a man scream in pain.
He reloaded and fired again. This time a little to the left of the last.
“Reaper One? Bravo Three, copy? Over.”
As he reloaded the M203 again, Kane rasped, “I’m a little busy at the moment, Bravo.”
“Is that you, rearguard?”
“Copy.”
“Then I suggest you get out now, Reaper One. You have Tangos on your left and right. If you stay there, you’ll be cut off.”
“Shit! Copy.”
He fired the M203 to his right and then swung the HK to his left and emptied the magazine into the green-filled haze created by his NVGs.
Then he ran after the others who had already reached the marina and were looking to board the SOC-R.
And Kane almost made it. He was twenty yards short of the jetty when he was hit by someone to his right and knocked from his feet.
With a loud grunt, he crashed to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. His helmet with night vision came free and bounced away. Rolling to the side, he came up on his right knee in time to see the figure lunge at him again.
“Fucking gringo pig,” the man cursed and reached for Kane’s throat.
Claw-like fingers wrapped around his neck and the attacker began to squeeze. Kane’s nostrils filled with the stench of fetid breath that blew across his face; his would-be killer’s mask of hatred close to his with the effort it was taking to throttle Reaper.
Kane snapped his head forward, and lights flashed before his eyes as his forehead impacted solidly with his aggressor’s skull.
With a cry of agony, the Mexican reeled away. Kane stumbled to his feet. The figure before him staggered a few steps before stopping, then turned to face Kane who suddenly realized that he was unarmed and fumbled to get his USP out and working.
The Mexican brought his own weapon up and snarled at Kane. “You come here to kill my Jefe, but you will not ever leave here.”
Salazar!
Kane knew he wouldn’t be quick enough to prevent the sicario from shooting him. He just hoped that the tactical vest would take the impact and that he didn’t get shot somewhere vital.
“Reaper. Get down!” a voice filled his comms.
Kane dived to the ground and left Salazar standing there like a beacon.
The man laughed. “That will not save you, gringo.”
Brrrrp!
The minigun rounds reached out across the marina like flaming lances. They cut through Salazar with brutal force, and his body seemed to dissolve as chunks of flesh were blown across the surrounding grass.
Kane hugged the ground for the duration of the gunfire burst. When the noise finally died, he heard through his comms, “Are you coming or what? Taxi is leaving in thirty seconds.”
Hunt!
Kane ran. Ran as fast as he could. Behind him, the ground started to erupt skyward in orange flashes as an MK19 grenade launcher attached to the SOC-R fired rounds over his head to cover his exfil. When he reached the boat, he launched himself from the marina, landing heavily on the deck of his escape vessel, and before he’d gathered himself, Chief Hunt had the craft at full throttle and rocketing away.
He stood up and looked around at his team. “Is everyone OK?”
They all nodded, but their mood was somber. They’d lost Hawk but gotten Montoya. He saw Hunt at the helm and crossed to him as the boat bumped along.
“Thanks for that.”
“It’s what we’re here for,” he said.
Kane nodded and toggled his comms. “Zero? Reaper One. Extraction complete. We’re on our way home with the package.”
Epilogue
1 week later
It was a bleak, miserable day in more ways than one. Overhead, steel-grey clouds heavy in the drab sky dumped sheets of rain on those beneath who stood around an open grave. The priest droned on in a dull monotone, almost inaudible against the noise of heavy drops falling on the numerous black umbrellas, while Kane and the others stared at the plain casket that held the earthly remains of their teammate, Hawk.
When the service was finished, they moved to one side, away from the rest of the mourners.
Axe winced and said, “Shitty day for a shitty day.”
“Amen to that,” Traynor agreed.
“How are you healing, Axe?” Kane asked him.
“I had more holes than this in me when I was in Africa fighting Al Shabab,” he scoffed. Then his voice lowered, “I’m healing, Reaper.”
Kane nodded. “Good to see you out of the hospital, anyway.”
Arenas looked at the group and said, “He was a brave man.”
They all nodded in agreement.
Ferrero said, “Kane, Cara, a quick word, and we’ll get out of this God-awful weather.”
They moved away from the others and stood beneath one of the few trees the cemetery had to offer.
“I got word yesterday that the task force now has full backing from the president. It’ll still fall under the purview of the attorney general, and any resources required for certain operations, General Jones will be more than happy to provide.”
Cara said, “That sounds positive.”
“In a fashion.”
Kane stared at Ferrero for a moment. “Why do I get the feeling you’re holding something back?”
Ferrero winced. “After the debrief, I was called back into the AG’s office for a meeting with him, the secretary of state, and secretary of defense. They’re replacing you as commander of field operations.”
“What?” Cara blurted. “What the hell for?”
“Easy. Hold up a minute. They’re doing it, and that’s it. I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn’t be swayed. They don’t believe that you can run field ops and be out in the field as well. I told them that it was bullshit, and the proof was in the op we just completed.”
“So, what does it all mean?” Kane asked.
“You’ll still be in charge out in the field and all decisions that need to be made accordingly. The new man will basically be in charge of planning and decision-making about the ops. I’ll still be in overall charge.”
“What about the team?” Kane asked.
“You, Cara, Arenas, and Axel.”
“What happens to Traynor?”
“He’ll be part of Bravo along with Reynolds, Swift, and we get to keep Teller.”
Kane thought about it, mulled everything over.
“If you want out, Reaper, I’ll understand.”
“I’ll stay. Cara?”
“I’m in.”
Ferrero smiled. “All right. The team has two weeks off, and then it’s back to work.”
“What about Montoya?”
“He’s locked away in a supermax somewhere, all safe and sound.”
“Good.”
“Go see your sister, Reaper. You too, Cara. Go see that boy of yours. Relax.”
Kane eyed him warily. “You already know what’s coming next, don’t you?”
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
Chesapeake Supermax
A long, drawn-out howl echoed along the corridor. Montoya was certain it had come from the serial killer, Cliff Serrano. Or as he
was known throughout Chesapeake, Cut ’em Up Cliff, because his M.O. was to dissect his victims, and leave their assorted body parts along the east coast from Delaware to Rhode Island.
From the cell next to him, Dan Trent was making loud grunting noises; a serial rapist and from what Montoya could gather, a serial masturbator too.
Then there was George Washington Brown, of all things, a black supremacist; Sonny-Boy Walter, who’d blown up a small church in Maine because he’d figured all those who attended to be sinners that needed cleansing by the higher power. And lastly, Mikey Ferris, the cannibal from Montana.
All were bad men, but when it came to Montoya, they couldn’t hold a candle to him.
The opening of a door at the end of the hall echoed loudly, then slammed shut as the approach of multiple footsteps could be heard. They stopped outside of Montoya’s six by nine cell, and a key rattled in the lock.
Montoya threw his legs over the side of the bunk and sat up.
His door swung open, and a prisoner entered the cell. Behind him, the guard slammed the door.
The newcomer smiled and spoke with a heavy Irish accent, “I believe that you and I have a mutual friend.”
A Look At: Deadly Intent
A Team Reaper Thriller
AN AMBUSH BY SUPERIOR FORCES…INTERFERENCE FROM EXTERNAL POWERS…
In book two of the fast-paced Reaper Series, the team must divide their forces before things go too far.
After Team Reaper’s convoy is attacked by Cartel soldiers and American Mercenaries, Kane and Ferrero agree that the chain of command needs to be streamlined. The decision sees the team get a new overall commander, former Ranger, General Mary Thurston.
But more bad news is on the way…
Juan Montoya and Colin O’Brien escape from prison and the facility where Kane’s sister and Cara’s son are at is attacked and the boy taken. On top of that, the team is lured into a trap and Kane, along with a new team member, are captured.
