Containment Failure (A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller, Book #2)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  “Let’s go!” yelled Dawson. Niner and Jimmy jumped out, followed by the rest of the team, then Sherrie jumped with a huge smile on her face.

  She’s loving this!

  Dawson shoved him out then followed almost immediately, the moment his feet cleared the deck the chopper was already banking to hold off the coast for the evac order. Kane hit the water hard, holding his breath and his bagged weapon, his feet quickly finding the bottom, thankful the pilots had done their job right and placed them close enough to walk with their heads above water.

  He pushed through the water and quickly made the shore, rushing forward to take cover near the tree line. Within less than three minutes the entire team of fourteen was assembled, their hazmat gear in place and comms activated so they could whisper rather than try to be heard through not only their own mask, but the others as well.

  Kane looked at Red.

  “Red, you take your team and set up three sniper positions to cover the compound as discussed. I want every inch of that thing covered. Once we’re ready to leave, redeploy when we’re clear to cover our egress, then meet us at the rendezvous point.”

  “Roger that.” Red motioned to his team and the six of them broke from the group to get into position before the rest made their entry.

  Kane turned back to the group. “Agent White, Niner and Jimmy, you’re with me. We’ll sweep left of the compound to the rear. BD, you take the right with the rest of the team. If you encounter the enemy, only eliminate them if necessary. We don’t want anybody missing a radio check. If you do need to take them out, do it swift and silent, then get them out of sight. Understood?”

  “Understood,” said Dawson.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Kane rose from his knee, and broke left, entering the trees with Sherrie directly behind him, the two experienced operators behind her. Kane gently pushed aside the foliage blocking their way, careful to not snap any fallen branches and give away their position.

  Someone behind him though snapped a branch, the nearness making him think it was Sherrie, her inexperience failing them. He raised his clenched fist, and everyone froze. He listened carefully, but could hear no one. He motioned for them to continue, and he took another tentative step forward, certain Sherrie wouldn’t make the mistake twice.

  They pushed forward, the foliage thickening, then suddenly thinning dramatically, it clear they were about to hit a path cut through the trees that led up to the compound. He motioned for everyone to stop, then carefully peered down both directions of the path, finding it clear. He rushed across at a crouch, disappearing into the foliage on the other side of the path, perhaps two yards wide. He checked again, then motioned for Sherrie to join him.

  She darted across, pushing into the thick leaves, then turned to check what was happening.

  Kane whispered.

  “Watch the path. If it’s clear, have them come across. Then follow me. I’m going ahead to make sure it’s clear ahead.”

  “Okay.”

  Sherrie repositioned herself for a better view and Kane disappeared into the trees, carefully advancing, the compound less than a hundred yards ahead and to the right. He knew from the satellite photos that the trees had been cleared from the front of the compound and much of the left and right sides, but the rear, which had been cleared during the Soviet era, had been left to seed, the jungle quickly reclaiming much of what had been lost.

  It was this complacency that he hoped they could capitalize on.

  He just hoped that it was complacency, and not knowledge the rear was secure due to an array of landmines.

  Sherrie leaned out and saw no one down the path that led toward the beach. A quick turn of the head and she saw it was clear in the direction of the compound. She raised her hand to motion the next Delta member across when she froze and stepped back into the cover of the leaves, the sound of boots on hard ground coming from her right.

  Someone was coming from the compound, moving in the direction of the beach. She peered across at the other two, pointed at her eyes, then up the path. The one called Niner nodded, disappearing farther into the jungle as she did the same.

  She could hear one set of boots on the ground, but a voice, talking as if to another. Her Spanish was perfect, but she couldn’t make out what was being said.

  Something moved over her boot and she looked down to see a large Cuban Boa slithering over her toe. She almost yelped out in shock, but instead was able to maintain control of her mouth, if not her heart.

  The voice was closer now, and she heard something else.

  Panting?

  She looked through the leaves and saw it was a lone man walking a dog.

  Some demon spawn of a dog that was all jaws and massive muscles rippling from end to end.

  With a nose that was now upturned.

  She had to act quickly or the beast from hell was going to find her. She looked down then grabbed the tail of the snake just before it disappeared. She yanked it toward her as she unsheathed her knife, burying it into the body of the snake as she pulled with the other hand, neatly slicing the now writhing creature in half. Her shoulders shivered as she watched the creature being gutted by her razor sharp Bowie knife.

  It was disgusting.

  She had never done anything like this, but it was the snake or her.

  And she chose her.

  The snake stopped moving, finally dead, and she pushed the body out in front of her, then shoved it even farther with the butt of her MP5K submachine gun. She quietly moved away from the snake, deeper into the leaves, until she could barely see the approaching guard and his companion.

  “What is it, boy?” asked the guard, his Spanish pure rural Cuban, obviously a local hire rather than a true pro. From her vantage point she could see the dog straining on his leash, eager to get to whatever it was he was smelling. She just prayed it was now the snake and not her.

  The guard trotted forward, helped along by the massive beast. She readied her knife. She knew she’d need to kill the dog first before it could start barking, and hopefully the two Delta guys could take care of the guard.

  She’d rather be taking on the guard.

  The animal was at the decoy now, sniffing at it, snarling, and shoving it with his nose.

  “What have you got there, boy?”

  It looked like the dog was nose deep in the guts of the creature, which Sherrie hoped would be enough to throw him off any scent she and the others might be giving off.

  “Oh God, that’s disgusting. Get away from that!”

  The dog was pulled away with a yank of its chain. It snarled in protest, but a snap of the chain had it obeying its master, and as its head jerked up, Sherrie swore she made eye contact with it, its eyes and nostrils flaring for a moment as he prepared to charge her, then with another jerk of the chain, he was dragged away, his head turned toward her, but his protests ignored by the guard.

  Sherrie’s heart continued to pound in her chest. Two forms rushed from across the road toward her, one stepping in her diversion and muttering, “Eww!” as he approached her. It was Niner.

  “Did you do that?” he whispered.

  She nodded, remembering her tactical breathing and beginning to calm herself.

  “Good thinking,” said Jimmy. “Now let’s find CIA boy.”

  Sherrie smiled at the moniker, then followed Niner as he led the way toward where she assumed Kane would be waiting. She grabbed a large leaf and folded it around her blade, wiping the knife clean before sheathing it.

  Suddenly she heard something behind her.

  Kane had taken up position on the left of the compound, along the cleared edge. Coded bird calls and he had pinpointed two sniper’s nests with members of Red’s team already in position. They seemed to have full coverage of the front and sides, and Kane assumed the rear as well with the third team that he couldn’t see.

  Leaves moved to his right. He dropped down and listened. It was approaching his position. It shouldn’t be a friendly unl
ess they were out of position. He listened carefully, but still couldn’t hear the rest of his squad.

  What’s taking them so long?

  He stepped deeper into the woods and shoved himself into the hollowed out body of a massive tree whose species was of no importance to him now. Moments later a guard inched by his position, gun at the ready, clearly looking for someone, probably him. Kane was about to step out from his hiding place when he heard something, as did his opponent. The man stepped back suddenly, placing his back against the very hollow Kane now occupied, meaning he had no way of getting at him unless he came out, giving the man the advantage.

  Niner crept by the opening, followed by Jimmy then Sherrie, both inching forward nearly silently. If you weren’t listening for them, there was no way you could distinguish them from the background noise of the jungle. This man had known to listen, and had probably known to because he had either heard or spotted Kane, or heard one of the sniper teams setting up.

  Or heard your damned bird calls!

  Kane cursed himself. This guy was a local. He probably knew the species of this area by heart, having grown up with them his entire life. And he’d know when one was being faked and used as a signaling method. He saw the barrel of the man’s weapon appear in front of his hiding place as it was raised.

  Kane pulled his knife, flipped it over to his left hand, then jabbed it around the lip of the trunk of the massive tree, blind. It connected and sunk deep, fortunately not glancing off bone, and as he twisted, he felt muscle and organ tissue tear apart under the pressure from his blade, and the barrel begin to lower.

  The man moaned.

  Niner spun around and leapt forward, his own knife burying itself in what Kane guessed would be the man’s neck judging by the height he had attacked at. At the same time Jimmy disarmed the man before he could fire as Sherrie raised her weapon, covering their backs in case the man had a partner.

  Kane felt the body pulled off his knife by the others and stepped slowly out from the tree. He gave the thumbs up to the others, wiped his knife on the body before Niner and Jimmy pulled it deeper into the trees, then continued their way to the rendezvous, encountering nobody except one of their sniper teams about a hundred feet farther on, and another fifty feet deeper in the cover.

  He only knew they were there from the birdcalls of earlier. This time Kane simply gave a nod of acknowledgement and continued on. As the brush grew thicker near the back of the compound, Kane began to smile to himself slightly, their fears the satellite photos were being misinterpreted settled. There was plenty of cover to reach the rear wall which the satellite surveillance had indicated to be pretty much unguarded.

  Apparently whoever’s compound this was, wasn’t too concerned with security. It was token and seemingly unprofessional. They clearly weren’t expecting any company.

  A hiss to his left had his head spinning, and in the encroaching darkness he saw Dawson and the rest of his team huddled nearby. Kane approached along with Sherrie as Niner and Jimmy redeployed to provide cover.

  “What took you so long?” asked Dawson.

  “We encountered an unfriendly. Had to take him out unfortunately,” said Kane. “He didn’t have any radio equipment on him though, but he might be expected back soon.”

  Dawson nodded.

  “Rear wall has been clear since we got here.”

  Kane held his hand out, palm toward the wall.

  “Care to do the honors?”

  Dawson smiled.

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Dawson activated his comm. “Bravo Two, Bravo One. Report, over.”

  Red’s whispered voice came in through the comm. We’ve got two on the number one wall at the one-two and one-four corners. Nobody else on the wall. You’re clear for your approach, over.”

  “Roger that.” Dawson rushed forward, quickly reaching the wall. “Report?”

  “Still clear.”

  He pulled his grappling hook off his belt, dropped the coiled rope on the ground then tossed the hook. It flew out of sight then he heard a slight noise as the rubberized body prevented any clanging sound of the metal, the hooks digging into the other side of the wall. He yanked on the rope then began to climb as the rest of the team advanced.

  Reaching the top, he glanced down to make sure nobody had ventured to the back of the compound without them knowing, then flipped over the wall and dropped to the ground. He quickly advanced along the rear number three wall toward the wall to his left, the number four wall, ducking when necessary to avoid windows in the rear of the villa they were about to enter. Reaching the end of the villa and encountering no one, he turned back to see the progress of his team.

  It appeared Niner and Jimmy were already at the far end at the two-three corner, giving the thumbs up, and the last of them were now over the wall, the last man, Atlas, having unhooked the grappling hook and rope so it couldn’t be discovered by someone later.

  “Report.”

  “Four at the number one wall now, all near the entrance. Almost looks like they may be expecting someone.”

  That could be good or bad. Dawson decided he better ask a higher power.

  “Overseer, Bravo One. Do we have anybody approaching the compound, over?”

  “Bravo One, Overseer. We’ve got a single vehicle about ten minutes out. Appears to be four occupants, over.”

  “Roger that, out.”

  Kane joined him at his corner, taking a look around it for himself.

  “What do you think?” asked Dawson.

  “Ten minutes is plenty of time. Let’s finish this, then wait and see who’s arriving. Worst case it’s more guards, so better to do this before they get here. Best case, it’s all three of our targets in a Christmas hamper.”

  Dawson chuckled.

  “Then let’s do this.”

  Kane retreated to the rear door of the villa as Dawson motioned for Atlas to cover the corner he had just been holding. By the time Dawson had reached Kane’s position, the young pro already had the lock picked and the door slightly open, a mirror poked through so he could make sure the room on the other side was clear.

  “We’re good,” came the whisper over the mike.

  Kane pushed the door open, quickly entering, his Glock with suppressor held high. Dawson followed, then Sherrie along with the rest of his men save Atlas and Niner who were holding the rear of the building so they weren’t surprised from behind. It was a kitchen, brightly lit, but empty.

  Which was when the first surprise happened.

  Who spotted him first didn’t matter. They probably all did as the swinging doors of the kitchen suddenly flew toward them. Kane rushed forward, extending his left hand toward the head of their unknown guest, clamping it over the man’s mouth as Kane’s brain processed the identity of the man.

  Hispanic, not one of the targets.

  He pulled the man inside the kitchen, his wails of protest muffled, then cut off as Dawson buried a knife in the man’s side and twisted, shredding several important organs. The man’s life quickly began to drain out of him as they pulled him back toward the exit and tossed him out the door, all executed so quickly little blood actually made it onto the terracotta tile.

  Sherrie grabbed a towel from a hook and tossed it to Jimmy who dropped it on the floor and used his boot to clean up the blood well enough that anyone who might stumble upon the scene could be forgiven for thinking it was just a kitchen accident.

  The towel tossed outside with the body, Kane pushed open the left side of the swinging door slightly, checking the hallway they found to the right.

  Clear.

  He checked the left and nodded to the rest of the team as he indicated with hand signals for half the team to go left while he and the other half went right. Kane pressed right, Sherrie on his heels, Jimmy covering their rear as Dawson and the rest went left. A door on their right, facing the rear of the house, was closed, a light under it, the hallway lit merely by ambient light from wall mounted lamps at either end.r />
  Kane listened at the door, then removed his Taser from his belt. He tried the knob and found it unlocked. He looked at the others then turned the knob, pushing the door open. He ducked to his right, edging inside to clear the inside wall, then stepped into the room, swinging his weapon along with his entire upper body as he cleared the room, including the area behind the now open door.

  It was empty.

  But the flush of a toilet, then sounds at a sink had them all reposition around the one other door in the room. The bathroom door opened and a knockout of a woman stepped into the room, naked as the day she was born, her store boughts proudly on display.

  Kane hit her with the Taser.

  As soon as she stopped shaking, Sherrie and Jimmy dragged her to the bed then bound and gagged her. Kane tossed a sheet over the poor girl, probably a prostitute brought in from Havana, so she could preserve what remained of her dignity.

  Gunshots from the other end of the villa had Kane racing for the door.

  Dawson squeezed off another round as he advanced into the living area. Though their weapons were suppressed, they were still fairly loud, but their opponents were using fully automatic, unsilenced weapons. There was no hiding their presence now.

  Which meant time was of the essence.

  They had to clear the rest of the villa as quickly as possible before any possible hostages might be killed, or their target could escape through some hidden tunnel that a paranoid Soviet general had installed decades ago.

  “We’ve been made. Eliminate the guards outside,” came Kane’s voice over the comm.

  “Roger that,” replied Red, and moments later Dawson heard the distinct sound of sniper rounds then silence, the job done.

  Dawson eliminated another hostile after seeing his face, confirming the man wasn’t Major Koslov. It had been someone coming out of a bathroom that had discovered his team and before they could silence him, he had yelled, attracting the attention of the half dozen men around the corner.