Murder Island (A Rogan Bricks Thriller Book 3)

by Steve Richer

  “Looks like it.”

  “No helicopter, no boats. What are we gonna do?”

  “Keep your voices down,” Gina ordered.

  “These guys are everywhere,” Clifford complained. “We’re so totally screwed.”

  “Shut up, everyone.”

  The plan was to go to the beach on the west side of the island. It seemed like a smart idea to stay away from places where they were expected to be. The staff house, the guesthouse—not to mention the main house—they had to keep clear of those places. The marina had just blown up for whatever reason so it was reasonable to assume that those killers were roaming in the area.

  That left the beach. Would they be safe there? Gina had no idea. She hated having been the one to make the decision, but no one else was being proactive. She’d had to do it. There was a small building off the beach that acted as restroom and changing room. They could hide in there for a while.

  And there were these bad guys chasing them. What if they had night-vision goggles? They had grenade launchers, so night-vision wasn’t such of a stretch. Maybe they were watching them right now. Maybe they were toying with them. There was a good chance that the moment they came out of the trees, some sniper would take them all out.

  She moistened her lips as her mouth went dry. She needed a drink so bad. How comforting would it be to crash on the couch with a bottle of merlot, not having to worry about anything? Her life had been so easy until this weekend, now that she thought about it.

  How had she gotten into this mess? It was money, that’s what it boiled down to. She had destroyed her life one drink at a time, watching her career whittle away along with every relationship she’d ever had. This weekend had been a chance to find her way back to success once more. She had managed to stay sober for almost two years so now was the time to get her career back on track.

  She should have known that there was no such thing as easy money. Coming here had been a mistake. Odds were that none of them would stay alive long enough to see dawn.

  “I think it’s this way,” Gina whispered to the others. “We have to cross the road.”

  She didn’t have to point out that this was the most important part of their escape. Crossing the road meant exposing themselves. They had to be spry and quiet.

  The trees cleared up ahead. It was the road all right, she could see it. All they needed to do was run across and it would be safe again, relatively speaking.

  “I think if we all cross together, we can get it over with faster.”

  She looked over her shoulder and the others agreed with curt nods. Didn’t they know that she had no idea what she was doing? Why were they so quick to follow her lead?

  “Here it comes,” she said as she came out of the jungle.

  She got down on her knees in the ditch and waited for the others to be next to her. And then she waited. What exactly was she waiting for? She didn’t know.

  She swiveled her head, looking up and down the road. There was light coming from the marina’s fire on one side. The thing had to be completely destroyed, she thought. From the sound of it, the fire would go on for days.

  It was probably the fuel tanks, she decided. When growing up, a gas station had caught on fire in the next county and people would plan trips just to go see it burn. It had been quite impressive. And terrifying.

  The road was empty. There was no sign of anyone. Alarmingly, she realized that each second that they spent here was a second they weren’t spending in the safety of the beach’s small building. She had to stop delaying the inevitable.

  “We go on three, okay? We cross and go into those trees over there.”

  When there were no objections, she counted on her fingers.

  One…

  Two…

  Three!

  Gina sprung up and hurried forward. She was relieved when the three men did the same.

  For the first time tonight she felt somewhat elated. It would be over soon. They would be safe. On top of that, she hated herself for having hesitated so long. It wasn’t that hard. She had to dash thirty feet, that was it.

  In fifteen seconds they would be in the clear.

  The road was soft under her feet, the dirt turning to mud. She didn’t let that stop her. She willed the others to go as fast as she did. They were halfway to their destination.

  Just a little longer…

  “Stop right there!”

  A second after this command, a bullet was fired straight into the road, two feet in front of Gina. She had no choice but to stop, which was exactly what the three others were doing. They were frozen. Helpless.

  Gina looked to her left and three of the mercenaries were coming toward them, weapons aimed at them. Her worst nightmares were coming true.

  “This doesn’t have to end tragically,” the leader said.

  The men were slowly coming toward them, the muzzle of their rifles pointed straight at their heads. For some reason she couldn’t explain, Gina noticed that the leader had a stylized letter E on his uniform. Was it Greek? Epsilon, maybe?

  Gina cleared her throat. “We didn’t do anything. We don’t know who you are so there’s no reason to kill us.”

  “And we don’t want to kill you, lady. Just put your arms up, step away, and give us Sabatini. We don’t want any trouble.”

  Clifford put his hands way up and stepped aside, staying clear from his bosses. Gina couldn’t help feeling that he was disloyal even though he was probably doing the only rational thing. Why wasn’t she doing the same?

  And then she began to understand. That’s what these guys had wanted all along. They wanted to kidnap Sabatini. Since she knew what they wanted, she could negotiate.

  “No!”

  “Lady, nobody’s asking you. I’m telling you. Hand Sabatini over or we shoot the rest of you. I’m trying to be nice here. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “Do you know how much he’s worth?” Gina screamed. “Whatever they’re paying you, Mr. Sabatini will triple it.”

  Sabatini nodded, keeping his hands halfway up. “That’s right. Name your price. Then I’ll pay you extra for you to tell me who’s behind all this. After that, I’ll double the amount again to hire you to take these fuckers out. That’s a lot of money, son.”

  The other mercenaries—Lambda and Rho—glanced at each other and then at their leader. But Epsilon subtly shook his head.

  “Can’t be bought, sorry. That’s how we do business. Spread out now or in three seconds we shoot the lot of you. One!”

  Before he could count another second, there were rapid gunshots.

  Chapter 31

  Gina threw herself to the ground, as did Paul, Clifford, and Sabatini. What was happening? Why give a deadline if you’re not even going to respect it?

  She covered her head with her hands, but still couldn’t help herself and peeked up. It wasn’t the mercenaries who were shooting. They were the targets. They were being shot at.

  That meant that someone was coming to the rescue!

  The bad guys shot into the trees, panic making them sloppy. Then came more rounds. Epsilon was the first to go down, his head exploding in a mass of flesh and blood.

  Lambda dropped to his knees, his head pivoting every which way as he tried to locate the source of the shots. In less than a second, a bullet ripped through his throat and neck, killing him instantly.

  That gave Rho a change of heart. He turned to run away, but three rounds perforated his back. He was thrown forward, landing in a puddle. Even from fifty feet away Gina could tell that he was dead.

  “Oh my God…” Clifford cried. “Oh my God…”

  The other men were quiet. Gina was terrified about what was going to happen. Was it actually people coming to help? What if there was someone else who’d decided that killing indiscriminately was a better option? She stayed put, not moving a muscle, barely breathing.

  “It’s okay,” a voice called. “We’re coming out.”

  Gina felt that the voice was vaguely familiar.
She tracked the source as best as she could and looked at the road. Someone came out of the trees, a pistol aimed forward. It was a very professional stance. She recognized the clothes from earlier. Khakis, blazer.

  “Orland?” she said.

  Yes, it was him! As he came closer, the huge and unique silhouette of Bill emerged, following him. They really had rescued them!

  “You guys okay?”

  The men stood up and she did the same.

  “Thank you so much! They were about to kill us.”

  “Yeah, a lot of that going around tonight. But hey, it is called Murder Island, right? Maybe we should’ve seen it coming.”

  “Orland, thank you so much!”

  “That’s not his name,” Bill said.

  Sabatini frowned. “What?”

  “His real name is Rogan Bricks, former FBI.”

  “The hell did you just say?” Sabatini asked, particularly disturbed.

  Rogan swept the area, searching for more threats. “It’s gonna be my pleasure to explain everything, but first I suggest we get out of here. Like right now.”

  The crime boss wasn’t over it yet, but he visibly understood that now wasn’t the time to argue. Gina was more confused than relieved as she watched Orland—Rogan—go to Epsilon. Initially, she thought that he was going to see if he was indeed dead, but instead he went through his gear and picked up ammunition as well as the rifle.

  “Anybody have an idea about where we can hide?”

  “We were going to the beach,” Gina said. “There’s a small building there we think we can hide in.”

  Rogan nodded. “Next to a full body massage and the cronut, that’s probably the best idea anyone’s had in all of human history. Let’s go.”

  Gina’s heart felt light. What she was feeling was relief. She had no idea who this guy was—because he was certainly no banker—but he was now in charge. Even better, he seemed to know what he was doing. Perhaps their chances of survival would improve.

  But she had been wrong before.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  As far as Rogan was concerned, leading the survivors to the beach was like herding first-graders on a visit to the zoo. They technically followed orders, but they all had their opinions about the shortest route. It took Gina to talk sense into them and make them shut up.

  It was that much more dangerous because everybody was armed now. Rogan had a new rifle to replace the one he’d lost at the marina. Bill, Paul, and Gina had pistols. Clifford and Sabatini had decided that they wanted rifles too even though both claimed having no experience with them. It was a miracle no one got shot by accident.

  They all reached the beach in one peace. The storm was quite vicious here, the waves crashing on the beach. However, the building where they hoped to ride this out was far enough from the water’s edge to keep them safe. The problem was that it wasn’t very large. It wasn’t much bigger than a Denny’s men’s room, Rogan thought, only more luxurious. There were no windows.

  In the beginning, they silently caught their breath and were grateful to be out of the rain. Then Paul located a stack of towels and they each proceeded to dry themselves as best as they could. There was no way to be completely dry, not unless they stripped naked and changed clothes, but it was a start.

  “Where’s the other guy?” Rogan asked at no one in particular. “Oliver.” He saw Clifford and Gina glance at each other. “What?”

  “They killed him,” Gina replied somberly. “He tried to rescue Raymond and Renna. They saw him and killed him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Rogan felt bad. Oliver had seemed like a nice enough guy. It also made him think of Raymond and Renna. They had either been caught or murdered. He didn’t want to bring up either possibility, not right now anyway. Sabatini had enough to worry about.

  “That’s enough. Now talk.”

  Rogan looked up. It was Sabatini. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. First you say you’re not actually called Orland Lush. Then the fat boy says you’re FBI. I want answers.”

  The tone of voice was definitely not friendly, but more troubling was that Sabatini had the rifle in his arms, the finger inside the trigger guard. The threat was unmistakable.

  Rogan shrugged. “Okay, whatever. I think we’re past the cloak and dagger stuff anyway, so I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just take your finger off the trigger, all right?”

  “Talk.”

  The finger didn’t budge.

  “I quit the FBI, but they asked me to do a favor for them, to take this Caribbean dream vacation and listen in on this secret meeting you were having. The Justice Department is really keen to know more about you.”

  “But I’m quitting the business,” Sabatini said.

  “Maybe you should’ve sent a memo to the FBI to tell them that, uh? That way I could be home having a barbecue with my girl and with my dog.”

  “So the feds are investigating me? What do they have?”

  “Does it really matter anyway? We’re being stalked like white-tailed deer on your precious little island. There are more pressing matters.”

  “What does the FBI have on me?” Sabatini repeated, raising the muzzle of the M4 a few inches.

  “They don’t have dick, hence why I’m here. They were looking for an opening, any information they could gather to build a RICO case and in the process upgrade their funding.”

  The old man sighed as if this was inconceivable. “I never got any heat for thirty years. Now that I’m closing down shop they’re coming after me?”

  “Maybe not everyone in your organization wants to quit, Sabatini.”

  “What?”

  The mobster was more concerned than angry by this. He looked down and wracked his brain. Rogan knew that this seed of doubt would nag him until the rest of his days.

  Everyone was quiet as if they wanted to give him time to process this new information and the silence made Rogan nervous. It dawned on him that hiding in this building was a double-edged sword.

  On the one hand, they were safe and out of sight, but on the other hand they were trapped. If people came after them, they wouldn’t be able to see them coming. Worse still, they wouldn’t be able to escape certain death.

  Rogan went to the door and opened it. “We should stay by the door, ready to exit.”

  “Why?” Clifford complained.

  “Just be ready, all right? All it takes is one person with a grudge to throw a grenade in here and we’re all dead. If we see them coming, then we have a fighting chance.”

  Bill was agape. “Now you mention this?! It didn’t occur to you to tell us about this before we walked in here?”

  “I’m telling you now. Follow my lead.”

  Rogan crouched in the doorway, the assault rifle slung across his chest. It was a waiting game, like hunting. Except now they were the prey.

  Chapter 32

  Rogan was back in the rain and it was doubly disappointing after having been dry for a little bit. He couldn’t even remember how it felt to be completely dry, lying on a comfortable bed and thinking pleasant thoughts.

  He had to get this nonsense out of his head. Getting distracted was the last thing he needed. He heard Bill and Clifford whisper to each other, but he wasn’t listening to the conversation. Instead he focused on the sounds of the island.

  In this weather, there were no birds or animals. It was wind, rain, and rustling leaves. Rogan got a feel for the pattern. It was only when you had a reference point that you could detect anomalies.

  And the first anomaly came ten minutes later.

  “Shhh!” he exclaimed, requesting immediate silence.

  Rogan duck-walked out the building as he paid attention to the sounds. There was something different. It was footsteps. A group of men running together.

  Shit.

  He motioned for the others to come closer, getting ready to leave the changing room if they had to. Next, he peeked around the corner to get a feel for the situation. There were some solar-
powered lampposts along the road which illuminated the area just enough. What he saw made his stomach churn.

  Five men were getting into position, dropping into the ditch on the other side of the road. They were getting ready for a siege.

  “Come on out!” one of them commanded. “You have nowhere to go.”

  The sad part was that it was the truth, Rogan decided. In the rear was the ocean and going there was suicide. If they tried to escape from the sides, they would be picked off one by one.

  He was torn about what to do. He could stay silent and pretend he wasn’t there. Eventually the bad guys would come see what was happening, gathering that their targets weren’t even present. It would be a good opportunity for Rogan to ambush them. The downside was that they could also decide to open fire arbitrarily.

  So he had to buy some time while he gave the matter more thought.

  “Who are you?” Rogan asked, his voice booming.

  “I’m in charge, that’s who I am.”

  “You have a name? I’m Rogan.”

  “I know who you are. Now come out before things get bloody.”

  He knew who Rogan was? Who was this guy? Law enforcement? Military? In any case, they truly were professionals which in itself was terrifying.

  “Awesome. Just give me a name, okay? I want to know how to identify your body after I’ve sliced your fucking head off.”

  There was a pause and then a laugh. “Call me Blake. Now get out here.”

  Blake? That didn’t ring any bells.

  “Nice to meet you. But the answer is no.”

  “Bricks, you don’t have a choice. You’re up against twelve solid men. You can’t win this one.”

  “Thanks, we’re fine right here,” Rogan replied.

  There was no way they were twelve. He had only seen five. Were the others on the sides, in the jungle? Were they getting into position to ambush them? This notion was scary, but Rogan then remembered that six of the mercenaries had already been killed. The opposing force represented a much more manageable number now. In fact, Rogan had more people even though they weren’t trained.

  “I’ll make it easy for you, Bricks. Send out Sabatini and his lawyer, Bloom. That’s all we want.”