“I’ve noticed.”
“The real reason I asked her,” both ladies quieted as Roman appeared from behind, “was because Willy is a stone-cold killer when she needs to be and, like you Ms. Violet, she can get closer to her male targets than I can. My good looks and natural charisma can only get me so far in this line of work.”
That made Violet smile.
Willy shrugged. “Whatever gets the job done.”
“Violet, you ready!”
Roman’s voice pulled her out of the recent memory and brought her back to the land of the present. She was dressed the same as before but had since showered, feeling almost human again. Her body still ached, but she had become used to being on the move even when her body protested the action.
The ibuprofen helped too. She had popped three of the pills while waiting for Willy to get her a pair of shoes.
“I am always ready,” she replied, turning. She checked the handgun Willy had given her one last time before sliding it into the holster attached to the rear of her jeans, at the small of her back. Her jacket would cover it perfectly.
Next, was supposed to be a classic combat knife, one the American Army was known to use, an M9 Bayonet. Instead, Roman handed Violet Ruby’s dagger. It was clean and gleaming in the overhead lights. She nodded her thanks and slid it smoothly into a sheath on her right ankle, concealed by the pant leg of her boot-cut jeans.
“I see that,” he said, watching as she slid her recently-cleaned bracelet back on. “You think you’ll need that?”
She shrugged. “I’d rather have it and not need it.” She smiled. “Besides, we’re close friends.”
“How many people have you killed with it?” Willy asked, slinging a silenced submachine gun over on her shoulder.
“Do you honestly want to know?” Violet asked.
Her eyes said, “yes,” but before she could answer in the affirmative, Roman stepped in. “No, Willy, we don’t.” He turned to her. “While Violet may do some good with what she does, we as United States government agents do not officially recognize those actions.”
“Officially?” Willy asked.
Roman didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Even Willy knew that you didn’t have to like what Violet did to understand or respect it. She and her sisters took it upon themselves to rid the world of the scum the traditional agencies couldn’t touch. They had done more than Roman could ever hope to do. International law restrained him. The Dragons had no such barriers.
“Let’s move,” he said. “Willy, you’re drivin’. Take us to Yao’s last known location. It’s just the three of us on this one—which means no major arms. We’ll be operatin’ in broad daylight.”
Willy frowned, removing the weapon from her shoulder holster. Violet pulled her own pistol out and looked it over. Both guns were SIG Sauer variants, each belonging to Willy. Satisfied, the female agent slid it back into place behind her back and double-checked the two extra mags inside her jacket’s breast pocket.
It reminded Violet to do the same.
Having a larger frame, Roman’s weapon was tucked beneath his left armpit, like before. Only, instead of being in only his slacks and undershirt, he was dressed handsomely in an expensive looking suit. He wore no tie, and the top couple of buttons were undone. He looked official but comfortable. He looked, well, good. Violet could tell just by the way he wore the attire that he’d been wearing suits like this one for some time.
Willy was dressed almost exactly as Violet was. She did go and get the clothes Violet wore after all, so it only made sense that she’d buy the clothes she personally preferred. Jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Thankfully, it was still cold enough to require one. If not, they’d look ridiculous and stick out like sore thumbs to those looking for them. For what it was worth, Willy’s coat was a dark brown color instead of Violet’s black version.
“Are you sure your superiors will be okay with you working alongside someone like me?” Violet asked.
Roman laughed.
So, did Willy.
“If our bosses knew half the shit we did over here…”
He left it at that, which was fine by Violet. Roman and Willy wouldn’t tell them they included a professional in their ranks for the time being.
Speaking of that…
“What happens after this?” Violet asked.
Roman thought for a moment but eventually answered. “Well, if we can score a big enough hit—I mean really make a sizeable dent—we might be able to put your services to good use, off-the-record. You’d be unofficially working for us.”
Violet knew what it was that he meant. She’d be a freelance killer for hire whenever the CIA, and only the CIA, needed her. It meant she’d be free of their wrath, but it also meant that she’d be nothing more than what Yao was to them—and in her own group.
A stooge, she thought.
She would only be as good as her abilities. If she failed them, even once, she’d be taken care of, or arrested and tried. She couldn’t let that happen. No matter how good-natured Roman and Willy seemed to be when the mission was over, Violet would disappear forever.
The first thing she needed to do was go home and be debriefed by Ms. Cho. She needed to confirm the fate of the others. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation, but it wouldn’t be the first time they discussed the death of one of their own.
Two others had died doing their duty since Rio became who she was today. And six more were just added to that list, all in a matter of seconds. It was a roster that would be impossible to rebuild.
As of last night, the Beautiful Dragons were no more. It would be the first time in the group’s existence that they failed to keep their ranks intact enough to operate.
She sighed. And then there was one.
8
The black SUV slowly pulled down the one-way street, eventually parking on the opposite side of the road as the building they sought. The apartments were a cookie-cut copy of all the others on the block, each housing hundreds of people. Sitting in the back, driver’s side passenger seat, Violet looked over the front façade, going through everything that might likely happen.
“We need to be careful,” she said. “We don’t need a repeat of what happened last night.” She looked at the half-turned Roman. “Lots of families here.”
“You’re very sympathetic for someone in your line of work,” Willy said from the driver’s seat.
Violet looked at the other woman, meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Those who do not deserve to die shouldn’t.” She looked out her window again. “Especially children.”
“You have experience with that?” Willy asked, sounding honestly interested.
“I do,” Violet replied, still gazing out of the tinted glass. “My sisters and I were all broken at one time. We were recruited into the family at young ages, me being the youngest ever. Each of us was hurting from something or someone.” She looked at Willy again. “I was orphaned and passed around like a common cold. Ruby…” Just saying her name hurt. “…she was abused physically by those she trusted.”
“Hence y’all targetin’ that sex house,” Roman added.
Violet only nodded.
He continued. “You wanted to help those girls up there, didn’t you?”
“We did,” Violet replied. “I bound and gagged the one I replaced, threatening her life if she made a sound.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “She was supposed to be released when we were through.” She wiped the tear away. “A lot of innocent girls died last night that didn’t have to, and someone needs to pay for their deaths.”
“I agree,” Roman said, opening his door.
Violet and Willy followed suit and climbed out of the warm interior. The weather outside was cool and wet. It had rained an hour before, but luckily for her, Willy had come through with a comfortable set of all-weather, black boots too. Unlike the way they felt on the cold, concrete floor of the warehouse, Violet’s feet were warm.
Looking down at her phone, Willy led
them across the street and up to the front steps of the building. “This is it,” she said, putting it away. “Real-estate records show that nine of the homes have been bought or sold in the last calendar year.”
“Nine?” Violet asked, sighing.
“Yee have little faith, my little lotus blossom.” Roman was looking up and down the street while speaking.
Rolling her eyes, Violet glanced back to Willy.
“Only one has no internet, phone, water, or power.”
That brought a grin to Violet’s face. “Nice work.”
“Let’s save the compliments until we’re done here, okay?”
Both women stepped aside as Roman led the way in, not bothering to hold the door. He was laser focused and didn’t look back. Violet didn’t care, and neither did Willy. They all knew the risks. Chivalry could take a backseat for the time being.
“What’s the address?” Roman asked quietly.
“Apartment 913,” Willy quickly replied.
He nodded and walked towards the elevator but stopped, obviously rethinking using it.
“Stairs,” he said, continuing down the hall.
“Stairs?” Violet asked, her body silently groaning.
“Our man is a trained explosives expert, and we’d be sitting ducks if he has something wired and sees us coming.” He looked over his shoulder. “Plus, why would someone take the stairs up to the ninth floor—ever? Makes no sense, right?”
Violet smiled along with Willy. They both knew Roman was right. His insight and strategizing were extremely impressive. It demonstrated why he was leading an international unit.
He was the real deal.
Regardless of Roman’s aptitude, Violet already hated the decision to make the nine-story climb. Her legs were the healthiest part of her body right now, but they would quickly succumb to exhaustion and crash back down to Earth along with the rest of her body—mostly her destroyed mind and frayed nerves.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she thought, knowing what doubt could do.
Yes, it hurt that her sisters were gone but that didn’t mean her ability was gone too. She could still be the Violet Dragon not the frail Rio Kimura from her past. She also knew how lucky she was that Roman and his team showed up when they did. Her burnt hair showed how close to death she’d been. A few more minutes—maybe even a few seconds more—and she would’ve been dead.
“Thank you again for saving me.”
“You’d have done the same for us,” Roman said.
“Why do you think that?” Violet asked.
“You said it yourself…” he replied, looking down the second-floor hall. “You only rid the world of those that deserve it.” He moved to the next flight. “Do we deserve it?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, “do you?”
“In the eyes of some, maybe,” Willy replied. “We like to think that we’re in the clear, though.”
“We’re government agents, takin' out the bad guys,” Roman explained. “We’re doin’ the same as you, just with some laws guidin’ us along and sometimes gettin’ in the way.”
“You can be a good guy too, Violet,” Willy said. “Well, good girl anyway. You don’t have to be ‘just a killer.’”
Is that how they see me? She asked herself. Am I just a killer?
The question would have to wait as they needed to keep their attention on the task at hand. The climb was horrible, and Violet knew the closer they got, the quieter they’d need to be.
They arrived on the ninth floor a few minutes later and found the floor map right where it should’ve been, just outside the stairwell on the opposite wall. Rooms 901 through 930 were to the right. Yao’s was right in the middle, and with any luck, he was still there.
As soon as Roman made the corner, into the outdoor ninth-floor hallway, he shuffled back, almost spilling both women down the stairs. Something had spooked him.
He explained as much. “We have company,” he whispered. “There’s a guard at Yao’s door. Someone beat us to him.”
“I’ll go,” Willy said. “I’ll pretend I’m walking by and take him out from behind.”
She was about to walk away, but Violet grabbed her arm. “No, I’ll go. I fit in with the people living here.” She turned to Roman. “We can’t risk Willy being made.”
He grumbled but agreed. “Fine, but be careful and do not engage Yao without us.”
Violet nodded and peeked out into the outdoor hallway. Yao’s door overlooked the street below. Whatever she was about to do would need to be quick. Someone would quickly spot a struggle and call the police.
Turning on the acting skills, she stepped out and pivoted like a runway model, marching herself down the hall like she owned the whole city, let alone one of the apartments. She held back her smile when the guard looked her way, having zero inkling that she was there to dispose of him. Only when she was a few feet, did she slow and made her way around him, feeling his eyes checking her out as she did.
For good measure, she threw her hips out harder a couple of times and got what she wanted. The guard’s manhood took over his reasoning, and his eyes left her face and went to her ass. Violet stopped on a dime and lashed out with a sharp jab, landing a solid blow on the man’s windpipe. She didn’t break it, but he wouldn’t be verbally warning anyone either.
She kicked out his right knee twice, making him lurch to the side and turn. Next, she lifted her knee into his stomach, bending him over with the hard shot. Next, was a second knee, but this one struck him hard in the face. Then, using his off-balanced weight and momentum against him, Violet grabbed his shirt collar, tripped him, and threw him face first into the concrete wall next to the door. The fight instantly went out of him, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious and bleeding. The attack took less than five seconds.
Roman and Willy rushed to join her, weapons drawn. Violet also pulled hers and stepped aside as Roman kicked open the door, entering gun first. Violet was the last one in, and before bullets started flying everywhere, she got a quick look at the state of the traitor, Yao Himachi.
He was tied up, half-naked, and spread-eagle on the floor. Each of his limbs were being held by a man with a rope. The only difference between his predicament and the medieval variety that used horses to pull you apart was that the torturer was holding a cattle prod to his exposed genitals.
Willy was the first to react, shooting the “prodder” in the back twice. Roman was next putting two in the man holding Yao’s left arm. Violet shot the guard holding Yao’s right leg in the neck. Then, all three of them—Roman, Willy, and Violet dove for cover under a hail of return fire.
Violet leapt to the side and rolled into the kitchen while Roman and Willy dove into the hallway on the opposite side of her. Round after round tore into the drywall around them. Violet swung open the refrigerator door, and it took three hard impacts as soon as she did. Each was aligned with her head.
Dammit, she thought, watching the others.
Roman blindly fired into the empty living room, as did Willy from a lower angle. The move worked, and it gave Violet a chance to peek out and take the shot. She squeezed off a single round, clipping another of the two surviving shooters in the shoulder, sending him to the ground in agony. In between concussions, she could hear Yao whimpering on the floor.
Violet was about to dive out into the chaos and end the conflict, but Roman beat her to it. Willy gave him cover fire, and he rolled into the room, staying low. He popped up to one knee and put two quick shots in the last gunmen’s chest. Ears ringing, Violet stood when Roman’s muted voice gave the “all clear” sign. She blinked hard and made her way to Yao with Willy.
Standing over the brutalized man, Violet and Roman conversed with him as Willy went outside to drag the still unconscious guard in, zip tying him and the wounded shooter like hogs. She then locked the door and joined them.
Glancing at both Violet and Roman, Yao couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Violet knew he wanted both of them dead and, yet, h
ere they were, saving him…together. Not forgetting what he did, Violet picked up the cattle prod and turned it on, ready to jam it into the lying murderer’s groin again. Roman didn’t make any move to stop her either. Yao did, though. He cried out in fear and began to whimper again.
“Who’s tryin’ to kill you now?” Roman asked. He looked up at Violet. “I mean besides her and me.”
“Madame,” he grumbled out. “She found out about my plan and sent her men to ask me who else was in on it.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t kill you,” Willy said from the doorway, gun still drawn. “Pieces of shit like you deserve exactly that.”
“Willy.” It was the only reaction the fury-fueled comment got. The female agent quieted, though, following her boss’ command to do so.
“She’s right,” Violet said. “Why didn’t they just come in here and kill you?”
Yao’s swollen and broken face nodded towards Roman. “Some of the men that survived the fire saw a helicopter come in and pick up other survivors.” He breathed and coughed up blood. “And since they didn’t call in any air transport…”
“They knew there was someone else involved,” Roman finished.
“What about my family?” Violet asked. “Why turn on us!”
Yao had the gall to laugh at the question. In return, Violet jammed the cattle prod into his inner thigh and turned it on. It was only on for a second, but the resulting electrical shock did its job. Yao told them the reason after he stopped shrieking in pain.
“Freedom,” he cried, looking delirious. “A man will do whatever it takes to be free.” Yao held up his hand and depressed the trigger to the previously unseen detonator. Both Violet and Roman were too late, though. Yao himself started to beep.
The maniac had wired himself to blow.
9
“Willy, get the door!” Roman shouted, they needed to get out quick. There was no telling how long it would take for Yao’s device to go off.
Beautiful Dragons: A Thriller Page 5
