King's Reign (The Xander King Series Book 4)

by Bradley Wright

  Definitely his drug of choice.

  He felt so alive in that moment that everything slowed down for him. His vision tunneled as it focused on the luggage rack atop the black van. Every sense heightened, every muscle taut and ready. Millimeters before the vehicles collided, Xander launched himself toward the roof of the van.

  At least he tried to.

  As he applied pressure downward against the roof of the SUV with his right foot, instead of the boost up and forward he was expecting, his shoe slipped right out from under him, sending him almost straight down to the pavement. But through excellent timing on his part, and sheer luck, the gap between the vehicles had closed, and it was only the direction he had given Kyle to swerve into the van that saved his life. As the two vehicles collided, Xander’s torso bounced off both of them as he reached his hand toward the vertical rack along the top left of the van’s roof. He felt the two vehicles begin to separate beneath him, and just as his body plummeted into the gap, his left hand squeezed around the metal rack.

  His body dropped and slammed against the side of the van, his shoulder wrenched as he held on. The double yellow lines streaked just below him as he pulled his knees up to his chest. He knew he didn’t have a moment to spare. The minute the driver of the van saw him dangling there, he would swerve right back into their SUV and crush Xander between them. Sure enough, as soon as Xander began to pull himself up, the van swerved left. The only thing Xander could do was close his eyes and brace for impact. He squeezed his already cramping hand with all his might as he felt the burn of fatigue settling into his forearm.

  Instead of feeling impact, he heard tires squeal against the pavement. He glanced over and watched their SUV spin out of control off the side of the road. Kyle had done the only thing he could to keep from making a Xander sandwich, and it saved Xander’s life. He glanced back up at his hand. The thought of letting go to stop the pain flashed across his mind.

  Instead, he dug deep and squeezed harder as he wiped that thought from his brain.

  No way he was leaving these girls to these bastards.

  Besides, he always had been a glutton for punishment.

  24

  Along for the Ride

  The black van carrying innocent young girls on the inside and one determined ex–Navy SEAL on the outside surged forward down the Mexican highway. Xander held his knees to his chest, keeping his shoes from catching the churning pavement below as he swung his right arm up and grabbed the rail beside his left hand. It was none too soon either, as that hand was burnt. His right foot found the back bumper, and he pushed off as he pulled himself up. The hot wind blasted through his sweat-soaked shirt. As soon as he steadied himself, the van began to swerve back and forth. They were trying to get rid of the pest on their roof.

  Xander wasn’t about to wait for their next move.

  He slid himself forward, grabbing the next horizontal rack up as he went to his stomach. This greatly diminished the pushback of the wind, and gave him a moment to reach his right hand behind him and grab hold of his pistol. He then leaned out over the front passenger side door and saw a man staring back at him in the side mirror. As the van swerved to the left, the man in the passenger seat reached out his arm and pointed an AK-47 skyward.

  Xander was ready.

  Before the man had the chance to squeeze the trigger, Xander shot a hole in his hand, and the gun dropped out of sight to the pavement below. Xander followed that by shooting downward through the window, and the scream that reached his ears a second later told him he had hit something.

  The van swerved once again, but Xander had a good grip with his tired left hand, and he had wrapped the toe of his shoe around the rack behind him. He knew the driver was about to get desperate. An understandable reaction when a madman on the roof just shot your partner. Twice. So he knew he had to act fast. Not only for his safety, but if the driver was frightened enough, he might do something rash and put the girls in the back in danger as well.

  Xander leaned out over the side of the van and reached down past the window, his fingertips grazing the door handle. But he couldn’t quite grab it.

  He unraveled his foot from the rack behind him, giving him the extra inches he needed. But as soon as he pulled the passenger door open, the driver hit the brakes, sending Xander forward on the roof. The only chance he had to keep from flying off was to relinquish his gun and grab hold of the rack with his right hand as well. His pistol skittered over the pavement, the tires of the van squalled against the blacktop, and his legs whipped around to the front side of the van as he held on for dear life.

  The van mercifully came to a stop.

  Xander had managed to hang on.

  And he just managed to get himself back fully onto the roof when a succession of bullets blasted from a semiautomatic weapon from inside the cabin of the van. The glass of the front windshield shattered, spraying out over the hood of the van and the highway in front of it.

  It was then, for the first time, that he was able to hear the girls screaming.

  The sound filtered in through his ears, straight to his heart, and his stomach clenched as the feeling of desperation flooded him. He was their only hope.

  From atop the van, Xander reached into his pocket and unclipped his Marfione knife, hit the blade eject button, and slid over the passenger side of the van. As soon as his feet hit the pavement, he sank the four-inch blade into the side of the neck of the man who had just stepped out the passenger door. As quickly as the razor-sharp blade slid in, Xander pulled it out; there would be no need for another strike. The man was already dying.

  A spray of bullets flashed through the open door. Then he heard the driver’s side door open. The man was heaving for air. The gun popped off again, and another string of bullets passed through the van out the door just in front of Xander. He wasn’t afraid for his life. But he was afraid that this man was panicking, and those bullets could easily find their way through the back of the van to the girls. He had to do something before—

  Another bullet fired; then he heard a click. The gunman’s magazine was empty. However, this wasn’t this guy’s first time with a gun. Xander could tell by how quickly he had managed to eject the magazine and was already inserting a fresh one. There was only one play here.

  Xander stepped in front of the open passenger door, and as the man pulled back the bolt on his AK-47, loading it, Xander took the blade of his knife between his thumb and forefinger, pulled it back by his ear, and as if he were throwing a dart, released the blade after a forward flick of the wrist and watched it soar end over end through the cabin of the van before it sank into the man’s hand that held the handle of his gun. The AK-47 dropped to the pavement as the man grabbed for his hand.

  Xander immediately stalked around the front of the van. Glass from the windshield crunched beneath his shoes. The short, dark-haired, olive-skinned man staggered back from the open door and pulled the blade from his hand. Sweat ran down his pain-ridden face. He looked down at the gun he had dropped, then back up to Xander. Realizing he wouldn’t be able to get to it in time, he readied the knife and took a fighter’s stance. Xander didn’t so much as slow his pace. He walked right toward him as the man swung his arm forward. Before the man’s swing could land, Xander punched the man at the elbow, forcing him to drop the knife. The driver of the van staggered back from the blow, putting his hands up in a boxing stance. Blood leaked from the knife wound in his right hand as he shouted at Xander in Spanish.

  The concern was gone for Xander now as he stood and glared at the unarmed man. The screams and sobs from the back of the van decidedly took away any consideration of showing him mercy. The man threw a right hand at Xander’s head. He was quick, but the punch missed when Xander moved his head to the left. It had almost zero power behind it. The man threw a left hook next, but instead of dodging it, Xander stepped forward and drove the crown of his head into the bridge of the man’s nose. The man screamed as blood flooded from his nostrils. Xander wrapped his right
hand around the man’s throat and pinned him against the van.

  “Where is the plane going to land?”

  Blood ran from the man’s face down onto Xander’s hand and arm. He wiggled, grunted, but gave Xander no response.

  Xander drove his knee into the man’s groin.

  “Where?”

  The girls had stopped screaming. The only sound was the Mexican man groaning in pain from the force of Xander’s blows.

  “It’s okay, girls, you’re safe now,” Xander shouted to them. Then he tightened his grip around the man’s throat and spoke in a lowered voice. “You’re going to die right here if you don’t tell me where Francisco’s plane is going to land.”

  The back door of the van busted open so fast that it put Xander in an automatic reflex position. And if he hadn’t turned toward it, putting the man in his grasp between him and the back of the van, he would have been killed. Because before he could make another move, bullets from a pistol were hitting the man he was holding so hard in the back that it was shaking his now-dead body in Xander’s hands.

  He did the only thing he knew to do and continued to use the man as a shield as he walked toward the gunfire.

  POP-POP-POP-POP-POP

  The girls resumed screaming and the gunman kept firing. Spent shells were ringing as they fell to the pavement. Xander just kept walking forward, pulling into himself as he did his best to stay behind the much smaller man he was now holding up with two hands.

  POP-POP-POP-POP-POP-CLICK

  Xander threw the dead man to the ground and drove his right hand into the chin of the man holding the empty gun. This man was much larger, but he was slow. He took Xander’s punch well, but his counter might as well have been in slow motion. Xander parried it with his left hand, grabbed the back of the man’s neck with his right, and yanked his head down as he drove his knee up to meet the man’s forehead. The man fell straight onto his back, unconscious. But Xander didn’t have time to put him away before he saw something streak past him out of the corner of his eye. He flinched, fearing the worst, but then saw long blonde hair floating in the wind.

  “Wait, it’s okay!” he shouted.

  One of the girls hadn’t waited to see whether or not the good guy had won. Xander couldn’t blame her for that. She was running in the direction of Sam and company, so he knew she would be okay. But before he could console whoever was left in the van, a young girl had leapt out of the back and was kicking her unconscious captor as hard as she could as she sobbed.

  Xander’s heart broke. Though he knew they were safe now, God only knew what damage had been done to these poor girls’ psyche long-term.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He tried to use a calm voice. But his words never found her ears. She screamed at the man on the ground as she kicked him. She was going to hurt herself if Xander didn’t step in.

  “It’s okay,” he said a little louder as he took hold of the outsides of her arms.

  The girl was in a fit of rage. She turned into him and continued her assault; though her wrists were bound by rope, she pounded her fists against Xander’s chest. The look on her face would be one he would never forget.

  Sheer terror.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” He maintained a calm voice.

  The girl sobbed as she continued to fight.

  “I’m an American, I’m going to get you back to your family.”

  She pounded on him one more time, then her eyes shot open. She stopped swinging at him. The word “family” had gotten through to her. Her blue eyes were swallowed by red streaks of terror. Tears flowed like an open spigot down her rose-colored cheeks.

  “You’re okay. You’re all right.”

  He didn’t know what else to say.

  He watched it set in that what he was saying was true. When she realized she was no longer being held captive, the sobs came even harder. Three more girls managed their way out of the back of that van. All of them wearing the same terrified look on their faces.

  Their lives would never be the same.

  Their innocence had been stolen.

  And they were the lucky ones.

  Francisco and whoever had been involved in this, no matter how small their role, were all going to pay.

  Every . . . last . . . one of them.

  25

  Sliver of Hope

  “Would you please shut her up?” the Mexican man—the one they were calling boss, and the one the pretty lady had walked away from—shouted to one of his men at the back of the plane.

  Carrie had tried a moment ago to calm the girl beside her. She knew nothing good would come from making these people angry. At the last minute, they had decided to bring the younger girl along with them. While Carrie was glad that she wasn’t alone, she was heartbroken that this girl, who looked as if she wasn’t a day over thirteen, had been brought into this. Whatever this was. The girl reminded Carrie of her sister, Bethany. That made things even harder, because all she wanted to do was be back safely on their cruise ship, trying her best to keep Bethany from annoying her. She longed for that, something she never thought she would say. But right now, this girl beside her really needed to calm down. She was really agitating the man in charge.

  “Hey,” Carrie whispered to her.

  Like her, the girl’s hands were bound by rope behind her back. They had put them on the floor of the plane in the very back, where the luggage was supposed to be.

  A big bald man, whose face looked as if someone had just beat him up, turned from the seat in front of them, shouted something in Spanish, and made the little blonde girl cry even harder. Carrie knew she had to get through to her.

  “Hey,” she said a little louder, raising her voice above the hum of the plane’s engine. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay if you just look at me . . . okay?”

  The girl sniffled once, then stifled the oncoming cry as she raised her head to meet Carrie’s eyes.

  “We’re going to be okay, I promise. We just need to do what they say until we land. Then I’ll find a way to get us away from them. All right?”

  The girl swallowed hard, tried to speak, but when words failed her, she just gave Carrie a hopeful nod. Carrie scooted closer to the girl, kissed her on the forehead, and gave her a smile. Comforting the girl somehow brought her own anxiety level down a notch.

  After quieting the girl, the terribly dressed man with the shifty eyes at the front of the plane left the two of them alone. The small victory somehow gave Carrie a sliver of hope. Though she had no idea who these men were, where they were taking her, and what they planned to do with the two of them once they got there, at least they were okay for now. She would dip into her knowledge of mystery shows that she had watched on television so much over the years to find her next move. She knew that every opportunity would be a small one, and if she hoped to get away, she would have to be ready.

  26

  Airport Not-So-Security

  Their rented SUV came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road, right in front of Xander and the four girls he was trying to console. Sam jumped out first, and Kyle was right behind her.

  “Did you get the girl?” Xander asked.

  Sam walked up, concern on her face. “She’s in the back, Zhanna is tending to her. Are you all right?”

  “You missed a hell of a show.”

  Sam glanced at the four girls, then back to Xander. “I’m sure you’ll fill me in later.”

  Xander caught her drift. The girls didn’t need him patting himself on the back in front of them.

  “I’ve called the US Embassy,” Sam said. “They’re sending a couple of officers to meet us at the airport. They’ll handle getting these girls back to their families.”

  A young dark-haired girl spoke up. “Are they really going to get us back to our families?”

  Xander went to place a hand on her shoulder, but the girl recoiled. She had been through a lot, for her, trust was going to have to be earned from n
ow on. Xander pulled his hand back, giving the girl some space.

  “They are. This time tomorrow you’ll be with them.”

  She made a move toward Xander, then paused, then decided she couldn’t hold back. She lunged at him, threw her arms around his waist, and gave a hard squeeze. Then she looked up at him.

  “Thank you, Mister. Whoever you are.”

  Xander didn’t know what to say, so he just gave her a pat on the back of the head and told her she was welcome.

  “Come with me, girls,” Sam said. “It’s going to be a tight squeeze, but we don’t have far to go.”

  “You’re our hero,” the girl said, letting go of Xander and following behind Sam. “You saved all of us.”

  Xander smiled and gave her a nod, then swallowed the lump in his throat.

  Kyle put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Looks like you’ve once again come out unscathed. I’d say you were like a cat, but they only have nine lives. You spent those years ago.”

  Xander looked back at the van, and at the carnage he left behind. All in all, by his standards, it wasn’t so bad. He and Kyle put the two dead man in the back of the van first; then, after restraining the man Xander had knocked out, they threw him in as well. They got back in the Suburban and headed back to the airport.

  “Any word from Marv, Sam?” Xander asked.

  “Yes. He has checked with all three pilots, and all three swear they have never heard of a Francisco or an Antonio Romero. Two of the planes are charters, and one is a businessman’s plane. Two of them say they are headed for the Burbank Airport, and one is flying to LAX. They are all compliant in every way, but obviously we know one of them is lying. Unfortunately, we won’t know which one until the planes land. There are a lot of small airports in LA, so there is a chance that at the last minute they could make a switch. But they would have to know someone to be able to fly in under the radar.”