by Keta Kendric
By the time I arrived, Ansel was marching in my direction with his hand clutching his hunched shoulder, and his gritted teeth were bared. A large patch of blood was visible on his shirt. I hustled closer to check out his wound.
After checking his shoulder, I slapped the rag he’d been using to stem the blood flow back into place when I noticed that the bleeding had stopped. “It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker, but you’ll live. Can you still shoot?”
“Tell me some shit I don’t already know, asshole. And yeah, I can shoot.”
Laughing, I shook my head at him and proceeded back towards the stairs. At the top of the stairs, a loud, angry squeal sounded in my ear followed by an elongated stream of scratching.
Our mics had been on the fritz since the shooting had started, but the connection had now been restored to our communications devices. I tapped my finger against my ear a few times. There was so much commotion going on outside that I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying because they were stepping on each other’s transmissions. I pick out what I could understand.
“Shark, say again you’re last. Over,” I spoke in an elevated tone, hoping he could hear me.
“A heli…pter! Don’t…”
Ansel and I glanced at each other with wide eyes before we took off running. “Did he just say a fucking helicopter is coming?”
“I don’t know, but it’s going to be hard to hide that shit if there is one coming. We didn’t plan for a fucking helicopter. It could be the media or DG6’s backup.”
The last thing we needed was the media getting a hold of all the shit that was going down in these hills. If DG6’s backup was a fucking helicopter, we were in deep shit.
We traveled through the garage that had a door that led outside. Ansel punched in a code to get us out of the door. The first image that filled my view was of two of our team members firing at one of the Hummers. Two of DG6’s guards were in the front, and Alonso was in the back, ducking as the driver attempted to ram the vehicle through the thick barricade that Rob had raised. Somehow the guards had managed to get him out of my house. If the vehicle broke through the barricade, they were going to try to ram the front gate. I was happy to see more of DG6’s guards laid out dead on the lawn.
Another of DG6’s guards appeared from the corner of my eye, running towards the gate nearest him. I raised my gun, aiming to take him out, but Ansel stopped me. “Let him go,” he said in an uncaring manner. “Max, you copy, over.”
“Copy,” Max replied.
“Activate the gate,” Ansel said.
“Tracking,” Max replied with a hint of excitement in her voice. However, Max and Ansel’s exchange didn’t explain why no one bothered to light the running guard’s ass up. He was about to attempt to go over the gate. And where was this helicopter that my father was yelling about?
“You’re letting him go?” I asked Ansel as I dropped my weapon and eyed him suspiciously before putting my gaze back on the fleeting man. “What the…”
As soon as the man’s hands reached out and gripped the thick bars of the gate, he started dancing and his hands automatically clutched the bars tighter. The high voltages of electricity radiating through him emitted fleshy pops. Although most of our people and snipers weren’t visible, I knew they were out there watching the scene just as I was.
The wind carried the stench of frying flesh that assaulted my nostrils and taste buds and forced me to scrunch my face up as I choked down a gag. When Ansel said that DG6 was coming into his place and not getting out, he wasn’t kidding. He hadn’t revealed all the tricks he had up his sneaky sleeve.
Now, we had to find a way to get the guards and Alonso out of the Hummer. The powerful thrust of the tires scratching against the cement driveway sounded as the driver attempted to force the vehicle through the barricade. A thin sheen of white smoke billowed out from under the hot rubber. The sound of the helicopter drew my attention away from the Hummer. Why wasn’t our team lighting that damn thing up?
When Ansel and I raised our weapons to take aim at the helicopter, I heard “Don’t fire! Don’t fire! The Hummer! Pop smoke! Pop Smoke!”
It was Galvin calling for us to pop smoke, alerting us to mark the Hummer with smoke so the helicopter would know exactly where to aim. It meant the helicopter was a friendly force and not DG6’s backup.
A knowing smile spread across my face, catching on to Galvin’s call. The smile on Ansel’s face indicated that he’d understood the call as well. My father’s broken call earlier was likely trying to warn us not to take out the helicopter. The bird made a pass over us, the roar of the engine demanding attention as the swish of its rotors swept dust in our faces.
“Rob, Dude, Hwang, do you have any smoke?” Ansel asked.
“No,”
“November Golf,”
“No go,” they replied.
Since Dude and Hwang had exited their foxholes to assist in fighting, they didn’t have access to their munitions. I’d taken inventory of everything inside my foxhole and knew exactly where the smoke was.
“I need to get back to my foxhole!” I yelled. “Shark! Finn! Galvin!”
“We got you. Go,” my father barked in a scratchy voice.
A wild, mindless rush shot through my veins, and I zipped into the opening, unsure of how many of DG6’s guards remained on the loose. I ran past the Hummer, the driver nearly killing the engine in an attempt to get away. He hadn’t accepted the fact that they were clearly surrounded by death.
Our team’s bullets couldn’t penetrate the armored vehicle, so for now, Alonso and the two guards were at an advantage and could possibly escape if they found a way to ram the front gate open. The whereabouts of that sack of shit, Sorio, crossed my mind as I ran towards my foxhole.
A bullet pounded the ground at my feet, spitting up dirt. It reminded me that DG6 was still in the fight and aiming to kill us. I ran in a zigzag pattern, unsure of where DG6 was and having faith in our snipers to keep a bullet out of my ass.
Once I made it to within a few feet of my foxhole, I slid into the small opening and made a wobbly landing on my feet, which sent my back slamming into the tight space of the dirt wall. I rummaged through the wooden box containing the ammo and grabbed two smoke grenades. After I’d attached them to my waistband, I scrambled through the hole just as fast as I’d slid in.
I was unsure, due to how fast I was moving, but it appeared Lucky was in one of the upstairs windows, slitting the throat of a guard that was trying to escape.
With the team keeping a bullet out of me, I sprinted back towards the roaring vehicle that had broken through the barricade and was backing up so it could ram the front gate. Our team riddled the Hummer with bullets, attempting to stop it from getting away. The black dot in the sky in my peripheral grew larger. The helicopter was about to make another pass.
Stalking the Hummer, I jetted forward, edging close to the vehicle that was revved up and ready to pounce the front gate. The Hummer roared forward and struck the gate with maximum force. The impact of crunching metal sent vibrations through me. Our team, aware of what I was trying to do, stopped firing at the vehicle and prepared to lay down cover fire for me.
The impact of the vehicle against the charged metal gate stalled its momentum. I inched closer, being careful not to draw the attention of the occupants. It was too bad the tires were stopping the assholes inside from being electrocuted.
“Max, cut the power!” Ansel shouted.
Parts of the front gate were dented and broken apart, but not enough to allow the vehicle to get through. The pop of electricity in the fence stopped. I ran towards the vehicle that was gearing to back up. I pulled the pen on one of the smoke grenades labeled green and tossed it onto the windshield. It slid down between the windshield and hood, which was the perfect spot that would keep the grenade in place on the vehicle.
I ran at full stride, searching for the nearest foxhole to drop into as green smoke spewed into the air in a large colorful cloud. The roa
r of the helicopter grew closer as I pushed my body to move me further away from the marked vehicle.
Rob must have seen me running in his direction because he’d cracked open the camouflaged door to the foxhole nearest the gate. I dived into the open door, scrambling for cover and nearly toppled Max as she sidestepped out of my way in the nick of time.
An explosion erupted, vibrating my eardrums inside my skull as the ground shook around us angrily. Rob’s hands covered his ears. When the ground stopped shaking, he pointed at a set of monitors mounted on the wall. This foxhole was also a little surveillance center.
Plumes of green smoke and fire filled the monitors. The helicopter had done its job by taking out the Hummer before they had broken through the fence. One more impact from the vehicle probably would have set them free.
However, the smoke and fire of the Hummer were going to draw attention we didn’t need. I climbed out of the hole, preparing to hunt down the last of the four targets, when I was met with the sound of the helicopter making its approach again.
“Incoming!” a chorus of voices yelled in my ear as soon as I stood up.
The mics were phasing in and out, so I’d missed something. I dropped to the ground and searched for a clue as to what was happening. The heat from the burning Hummer and the black and green smoke clouded my vision.
Why the hell were they yelling incoming?
When it smashed into me, so breathtakingly cold, I could do nothing but lie there and let the impact of its crushing blow pound me. The helicopter had dropped what had to have been a ton of water onto the burning vehicle.
I hadn’t a clue as to who’d ordered us a fucking helicopter, but they may have saved us from becoming a national news headline. I could hear the helicopter making another approach, only this time it was behind me, the powerful wind sweeping up grass and dirt as I struggled to watch it land on the front lawn near where my foxhole was located.
As the whirl of the rotors slowed and the engine’s roar turned into a wheezing hum, a man exited the helicopter with his weapon drawn. He looked familiar, really fucking familiar. All I could do as he stood over me, shaking his head, was laugh.
“Aaron, get the fuck up. You look like a wet baby calf bathing on the lawn out here.”
He reached his hand down to help me up. I gripped his forearm with a wide grin on my face as he assisted in yanking me to my feet. “Nathan, man, what the fuck?”
He shrugged, grinning but keeping a steady aim on his weapon. “Galvin called yesterday and asked me to be on standby. He said y’all might need a little assistance with some not-so-friendly visitors you were trying to get rid of. I run a touring company that conducts helicopter tours out here in Cali. It’s some real boring shit. So, when Galvin called, talking about real action, I was all in.”
Nathan wasn’t a member of my old military squad, but he was a fellow black-ops soldier. He had the amazing ability to fly a helicopter through hellfire and gun smoke and not get a scratch on it. We had nicknamed him TC like the character from the TV show Magnum PI. He’d picked us up and flown us from some of the most hostile hot zones we’d ever encountered.
Chapter Fifteen
Aaron
After I introduced Nathan to Ansel, thanked him, and informed him he was about to get a big-ass bonus for his help, we fanned out in search of the last of the guards and Sorio, our final target.
“Aaron, can you hear me? Over,” Shark asked.
“Yes, tracking, go for me, over,” I called back to him.
“Aaron, take your weapon, aim at the front driver’s side tire of the Hummer to your left and shoot it.”
I didn’t question my father’s instructions. I aimed and shot at the tire. Immediately, one of DG6’s guards rolled away from the tire. His dark attire and the angle of his body had kept him concealed. He was still under the vehicle, but he made a costly move as I watched his head explode. Chunks of his skull and blood flew into the air as he twitched under the vehicle. When his damaged head finally dropped, blood poured from it like a spigot had been turned on.
“Thank you, son,” my father said, causing my grin to spread wide.
“You’re welcome.”
I didn’t think anyone but the old heads in the MC knew that my father could do wicked things with a sniper rifle or any gun for that matter. He’d taught me everything I knew about guns. When I’d suggested he be one of our snipers, Ansel had glared at me like I was crazy, not knowing what I knew.
It took me an hour to finally find a few droplets of blood that would possibly lead me to the last of the four main targets. One of four of Ansel’s cars parked in the large garage was where my search had ended. With my weapon aimed and at the ready, I used the toe of my boot to hit the latch on the white Maserati, springing the trunk open. A wide grin spread across my lips.
Laying on his side inside the trunk, Sorio raised his hands. Recognition flashed in his gaze as a touch of defiance lingered under the fear that covered his face. He understood that I’d show him no mercy.
With Sorio in my crosshairs, I felt like I’d won the grand prize. The cowardly bastard was hiding in the one place we’d failed to check. He must have been too busy running and hiding to arm himself. I’d expected more of a fight from him.
Footsteps alerted that someone was approaching. Ansel walked up and stood next to me. A conniving grin spread wide across his face when he discovered who I was aiming at.
“Any last words, motherfucker?” Ansel asked. The hint of satisfaction in his voice was easily noticed.
Sorio shook his head nonstop. Was this his sorry ass attempt at asking us not to kill him? His hands remained raised and his wide eyes roved back and forth between Ansel and me.
“Never thought these would be the last two faces you’d see, did you?” I asked taunting him. “Oh, and Regina is downstairs. She saved me after you tortured me and after one of your men shot me in the head.” At this news, Sorio’s lips parted and he fought a frown. “She’s smarter than you. She is better than you in every way. I was at the farm for nearly six months right under your nose. You tried to break her, but you failed. She broke you.”
A sinister smile bent my lips as death filled the dark places in my mind. I leaned in closer to the asshole who’d started this war. “I’m going to ask Regina to do one last burn, and I’ll make sure your ashes make their way into the lowest grade meth on the market.”
His eyes grew wide as his breaths kicked up an extra notch and a shiver became visible in his body. I didn’t know if he was upset that Regina was here or that I wanted her to burn his body and feed his ashes to meth addicts. A single tear slithered down his quivering cheek.
The rumble of gunfire had ceased outside. My ear was free of noise and static. The inside of the garage was filled with a tomblike silence that blended perfectly for the occasion.
The tip of my finger slipped over the trigger, and a sense of peace fell over me, knowing that a piece of shit was going to hell where he belonged. Knowing that he could no longer hurt Regina or give orders for men to hunt Megan.
I could envision Sorio’s brains splattered all over the trunk. The tension in my trigger finger tightened and it flexed against the hard metal. However, at the last possible moment, something stopped me from pulling the trigger.
Putting a bullet in Sorio was too easy. Fuck following the protocol we’d set for this mission. Sorio needed to suffer. He needed to get what he had coming to him. I wanted to make him pay for all the years he’d gotten away with murder, abuse and any number of evil deeds.
Holstering my pistol, I unslung the rifle from my back. I was preparing to use the butt of the heavy weapon to beat that motherfucker senseless. I turned the rifle backwards in my hand, gripping it by the barrel. Sorio’s fear-frozen eyes were on me the entire time. He’d wedged his body as far back into the truck as he could get it, but there was nothing he could have done to save himself. His whimpers sounded over the frozen silence that filled the garage.
The first
blow connected with the side his head, sending it slamming again the interior of the trunk. The loud wallop surprised him. He cried out in pain, his voice casting louder due to him being inside the trunk. The hurt must have been shockingly intense because Sorio’s legs started to kick against the interior of the trunk. His thrashing appeared to have been involuntary. He lifted his head slowly, using his arm as protection from the next blow. His eyes were so wide, they appeared all white as he peeped over his raised arm.
Ansel released an elongated whistle, no doubt preparing to enjoy the show. Sorio waved his shaky hand at me, gesturing for me to stop as my grip tightened around the rifle. “Please, don’t do this,” he cried out. The hole I’d put in his broken jaw made his voice sound as if he were talking without moving his lips.
The asshole begged shamelessly for his life. He was man enough to put his hands on a woman, but not man enough to face his death. When I was in that barn, he’d beaten me to the point that he’d had to take a break before he instructed his men to take over. Not once had I cried. Not once had I begged.
Seeing Sorio beg and cry amped up my rage. Had he taken pity on Megan after what his father had done to her? Nope. That motherfucker had been hunting her, so he could kill her. Had he taken pity on Regina? Nope. That motherfucker had beaten her and confined her to an underground prison where he forced her to cremate bodies.
Sorio clutched his bloody face and groaned in agony as blood seeped out of the hole I’d opened. A second blow was aimed at his head, but he ducked out of the way and it caught him in the neck. He coughed, gagged and attempted to plead for me to stop. “P-p-please,” he gurgled.
I think he was attempting to talk, but not one fuck was going to be given where he was concerned. I was too far gone. All I wanted was to beat this motherfucker until the devil himself tapped me on the shoulder and informed that he was ready to take him to hell.
