Off the Deep End

by R. Jayne Revere

  Les’s four-wheel drive and a large portion of the weapons, tech, and personal gear sat stashed away from the compound, hidden and remote. Outlying sensors detailed Essex and team streaming en route. Present company outfitted tactical gear and armed themselves to the teeth.

  “Uh, guys?” Alex leaned on the desk next to Mikey as he monitored cameras. Her furious waving beckoned the rest over to see.

  Andy bent in close to the computer screen. Its harsh light enhanced the growing paleness of his face. “Shit, man, did they bring the whole damn county?”

  Three large two-and-a-half-ton trucks accelerated up the dirt road toward the main gate. As the vehicles passed the outer surveillance cams, the images showed multiple figures inside each, ready to deploy. Dust clouds dispersed behind each stout vehicle, wispy apparitions sneaking into the trees like silent intruders. Still a mile out, their ominous presence demanded respect.

  “He does seem to attract a fair amount of scum,” Les commented.

  He and Aaron walked over to join them at the computer.

  Aaron glanced at the screen and went back to loading his mags as he rested against the desk next to Alex.

  “Wow. Guess so.” Les whistled at the display and the trio of trucks charging up the road. “Maybe I shoulda turned your ass in for the dough if he can afford that many guys.”

  Aaron kept loading and grinned as Les dodged a couple of steps away, out of Alex’s reach.

  Les chuckled again at the dour smirk she gave him. “You know I’m just kidding.”

  “Draw them in but stay out of the heavy stuff. We’ll handle that.”

  Smoke-gray clouds cast a barricade to sunny independence beyond. The storm crept closer. Alex and Andy lingered near one of the buildings visible to the entrance drive. Andy tapped away at his smart phone, conversing with Mikey as the latter surveyed their area by cams. Brain relayed information to all as needed through earpieces, and both hers and Andy’s prime instruction now came by him as events set to unfold. General communications with Aaron and Les ceased for her as both men set for frontal defenses.

  Alex shivered against the increasing wind. Stratus clouds lowered to swallow up the last vestiges of blue on the horizon, forming a cold and desolate blanket. The usual jubilant appearance of initial snowflakes rushing past her face went almost unnoticed.

  Trucks rumbled into view around the last bend in the drive. Her focus jerked to the present. She locked eyes with Andy. He shoved his phone into a pocket, and they ran back out of sight, into the complex.

  “Think they’ll buy we were scared?” Alex asked, panting.

  “Don’t know,” Andy replied. “But they’re still comin’ either way.”

  A squealing of brakes and a cloud of dirt. Three trucks rolled to a halt just inside to block the main entrance. As they’d made the threshold, two people standing next to one of the buildings perked up and ran.

  “Hold up, boys,” Essex ordered.

  A sharp contrast to his assumption of some cute romantic cabin hideaway, his surveillance led him to this place, this old run-down group of buildings in the middle of nowhere. An unusual choice. Not many girls would put up with a dump like this. Had to be something else to impress her enough to stay. He cackled to himself. Maybe Donovan had gotten too used to the hellholes and decrepit locales that would describe the majority of their missions’ settings. No matter. Still unsure on the total number of occupants, he figured there couldn’t be many. Essex would put his plan into action anyway.

  His mind worked over what might transpire in these initial minutes. What would happen now? There was no explosive ordinance. No shots. Just a few more… His attention darted to the two they’d observed upon arrival, scrambling between buildings farther in. Essex smiled. No ambush attack and people running scared. His surveillance team detected no signs that these people had any clue what was about to happen to them.

  He himself remained unconvinced of that. Aaron Donovan was sharp. If the man had any idea he was even remotely being hunted… But… maybe he was too preoccupied with other “interests.” Maybe Essex had surprised him after all.

  He keyed his walkie. “Light it up.”

  An armor-clad commando stepped from truck two. A moment later, an explosive whoosh sent a streak of crimson-tinged smoke between the two front buildings. Concussion and fire bloomed, shooting out and around, a near-instantaneous transformation to black acrid smoke that drifted off in the stiff breeze. A screeching creak and the gutted body of an automobile slammed to the ground.

  That should give them something to ponder on. “Okay. Spread out. If you can capture, do it. If not… just make sure you leave Donovan alive. That one’s for me.”

  The man with the rocket launcher sauntered back and leaned against the side of truck three. The first two trucks emptied as Essex and his select squad hung back.

  Les waited before trading odd shots with the second truck group. Hadn’t figured them to roll in and just bloody fucking torpedo the place right off! Dammit, that was too close to where Alex and Andy should have run to. Near enough to his building, he’d also caught debris and heat at his rooftop position. He muttered another curse aloud. Sure hope to hell ol’ Psycho’s still standing. Can’t take down this whole brigade myself. Faking missed wild shots, he still took out two as they all scattered and scrambled for cover. Plus placed a nice hole through the second truck’s engine block. No one exited the third truck. It should contain Essex and a more elite team of fighters, waiting and observing.

  The group from the first truck remained tight-knit, five of the eight in a rough tactical formation, the other three spreading out.

  Wind rattled a piece of smoking sheet metal that lay near Alex, its warped skeletal form rasping as if moaning its demise. She lifted her head to peer through disheveled hair. Awareness of her body; no real injuries, just knocked flat. An explosion out of nowhere and way too close for comfort. Was this whole thing going south before it even got started? Wisps of foreboding wormed their way through her insides. She pulled herself up from frozen dirt and grabbed Andy’s hand to help him stand with her. They traded a grim look.

  “Fuck, man,” Andy said and slapped at his head to knock some insulation from his hair. “What a twisted shitstorm. That wasn’t s’posed to happen.”

  Alex offered agreement. “We need to get out of here.”

  Gunshots. She turned back toward the front of the compound. That should be Les engaging the intruders. Any distant hope for humble withdrawal on the part of said assailants fled at movement glimpsed through residual smoke. She grabbed Andy’s arm and pointed.

  “Go!” she urged him and made a quick dive to hide near a barrel.

  He retreated to a pile of tumbled pallets.

  One thug neared. The helmeted head swiveled as the man stooped and bowed, poking around corners and into nooks. Alex’s position provided a good view of his actions. He hugged the side of the adjacent building as he hunted. A tire stack loomed in front of him. He kicked it over and swung in his rifle, dangerously close to Andy.

  I have to get him away from there! She jumped out and ran to cower near a car. The man’s attention flashed straight to her, and he re-aimed his rifle as he stepped to the center of the driveway.

  “Get up!” The hood’s cheeks puffed out in glee behind his face shield. Maybe he expected a first capture would move him up in ranking. He ordered her to stand and surrender again.

  His enjoyment met an abrupt end as Andy took him out.

  “Freeze!” Another slinked in from the side to hold Andy at gunpoint.

  “Shit. Didn’t see that one comin’,” Andy mumbled and side-eyed the man pointing an assault rifle at his head. The explosion had cost them precious time. They shouldn’t still be out here…

  “Drop it!”

  Andy turned and lowered his weapon.

  Two light thumps echoed. Blood oozed at the assailant’s collar. The goon swayed a moment and collapsed.

  Assuming the invaders would wear full ar
mor, which most did, they had trained to target open chinks. Intent on Andy, the man hadn’t noticed Alex. His jugular paid the price. Smoke dissipated in the wind from her silencer.

  “Good work, guys.” Mikey’s voice crackled in their earpieces. “Now get the hell back here. Move!”

  The other five from the first truck continued a stealth advance back into the complex. Clearing one section, they rounded a building… and came face-to-face with Aaron.

  He stood silent, head bowed, a pistol in each hand pointed at the ground.

  They stopped short.

  He regarded them from under his brow. Bunched together, their formation all wrong. Too obvious they were in it for the thrill and the money. Not the elite team. Somebody really should have told them…

  “You guys really don’t want to do this…”

  The man at the front snickered. He flipped up his face shield and had the audacity to wink as he licked chapped lips. “Oh, but I think we do.” He puffed up his chest and growled out his demand. “Drop your weapons.”

  Aaron’s reply came way too calm, and he inclined his head farther at the order given. “Okay then…”

  Fingers released. Before the pistols touched earth, Aaron dropped, grabbed one, and fired, twisting on his side to kick the other hard. The forward hireling lurched to a halt in midstep, a single bullet to his windpipe driving out all prior cockiness. He fell in a heap, choking and grasping at the hole in his ruined throat.

  The kicked pistol slammed the second at his kneecaps, tripping him to the ground. Aaron was on his feet and moving as the other three hesitated. Not bothering to aim, the panicked third snapped off a quick burst.

  Aaron twisted around him, elbow smashing the side of the man’s head. He snatched the rifle from flailing hands, swung it baseball-bat style, stock end into the fourth intruder’s face. Gloves protected his hands from the hot barrel, and he tossed the rifle at the fifth man.

  Five tried to swat the firearm away, and before he could re-aim, Aaron spun and delivered a crushing kick to his jaw. His neck came apart with a pop and the hireling collapsed. One, Four, and Five lay dead.

  Number Two, recovered from the hit from the flying pistol, regained his footing and grabbed Aaron from behind. Large muscled arms flexed, the bear hug contracting in Two’s attempt to crush the breath from Aaron’s lungs.

  Aaron squirmed for escape. Arms pinned to his sides, he fought for purchase to throw the captor off-balance. Movement to his left. Three struggled on hands and knees, shaking off the blow from Aaron’s elbow. The man scrambled to his feet and grabbed a loose rifle.

  Aaron rammed his head back, crunching Two’s nose to a blood-spurting pulp, and spun with the screaming assailant still at his back. Three’s wild rounds killed Two as Aaron dropped. His kicked pistol rested there. He grabbed it, twisted out from underneath Two’s falling body, and took out Three with a double tap.

  One of the eight from the first truck remained. Mikey warned Andy and Alex as the assailant closed on their position, having heard the shots from Aaron’s fight. Andy and Alex caught that action as they skirted the end of the building, away from their own attackers. Left in awe, they rushed on after observing for only the thirty seconds or so it took Aaron to dispatch the five. They now searched for a suitable ambush point.

  This side of the building offered little in the way of hiding places. Mikey screamed at them to take cover. The last intruder from truck one caught up. A barked order to disarm. The two turned, too slow to comply for the man.

  “Do it now!” he growled.

  Andy dropped his pistol. Alex hesitated.

  Their attacker’s head made an unnatural jerk and twisted way too far to one side. The hand contracted, arm swinging wide, landing several wayward shots into the roofline of the building next door. He fell forward, face-first to icy earth. Aaron stood in his place.

  Aaron jogged over as Andy retrieved his own pistol from the ground. Light snow started to fall, and the wind picked up again.

  “Guys okay?” Aaron asked.

  Both nodded. Aaron laid a gloved hand on the side of Alex’s neck, pulled her to him, and wrapped both arms around her, holding tight, rubbing her back.

  “You guys shouldn’t still be out here,” he told her as she returned his embrace.

  Les’s words surfaced in her mind, of Aaron’s ability to switch in an instant from the job to empathy and back. From taking out six assailants in less than three minutes to loving on her. Being told of that was nothing compared to experiencing it in reality. She squeezed tighter. He kissed the side of her head before letting go.

  Pistol in hand, Aaron reached down, snagged the dead assailant’s assault rifle, and tossed it to Andy, who shouldered it. “Let’s go.”

  The three crept low along the side of the building, back toward the sound of Les firing and the others. Aaron led, Alex behind him, Andy bringing up the rear. Aaron held up a fist to halt them as they neared the fray.

  He huddled them close. “This is where it gets hard.”

  “Okay, boys, it’s time.”

  Essex and his remaining group of six monitored the situation from the truck. Long enough. While still not entirely certain how many he was up against, there could only be a handful at most. However, they had managed to take care of most of his rookie team.

  That was the test. To allow him to see the extent of just what talent he faced. Plus the intimidation factor his large force played on his prey. Fatigued now on both physical and mental levels guaranteed they’d be less able to deal with his fresh reinforcements. Why play fair, right?

  From the head cams his men wore, he witnessed most of what he needed. Aaron Donovan of course, and true to form, maybe even a bit better than he remembered. A sniper who also proved damn good at hand to hand. The girl, cute, but much more than met the eye. A decent shot. She’d killed one and kept it together. Another guy, and while not possessing the combat skills of Donovan or the sniper, a body with a weapon. And still alive. Maybe one or two others he’d not observed.

  Essex spoke with two of his men. “Grab the girl. That’ll bring the rest in line.” They nodded and all exited the truck, spreading out. Essex brought up the rear, striding confident, bearing conviction that he now possessed full control.

  Against their wishes, Aaron sent Alex and Andy back to the relative safety of the main building and Mikey. Locked down, more secure and partially underground, it also held the beginnings of their escape route.

  One last open space remained before the structure. A whirl of wraithlike black in her peripheral vision made Alex skid to a stop.

  Two armed thugs materialized in their path, and without breaking stride, one leaped into a spinning twist. Alex grasped at Andy’s arm as he ducked, too late; the boot heel to the back of his head dropped the young man without so much as a whimper.

  The nonjumper grabbed for Alex. A meaty hand clamped on her arm.

  A quick twist and she slipped her sleeves, leaving him holding an empty jacket. He cursed and thrust it to the ground as she backed away. Rifle shouldered now, he crept closer, arms outstretched, stalking her. Her hand inched down her thigh to her holster. He snickered.

  Movement to the side; Andy’s attacker had her covered, rifle aimed and ready. A glance beyond him at her immobile friend on the ground. She needed to get them away from him. Would they shoot her? Who knew? Dammit! She turned and sprinted for the corner…

  Several distinct reports, their corresponding dirt sprays inches in front of her toes, brought her to a halt. She backed toward the wall. The two closed in. Well, that went well. Her hand moved to her pistol grip. Even if I can take out the one, the other’s gonna shoot. Her mind chased for options. No further time for a plan. Her attacker closed the distance.

  Disarmed. Held at gunpoint with her own pistol. The cold steel of the barrel tickled her ear. Fucker. The disgusted stare she offered him only made him smile. A violent shove up against the wall, a rough, gloved hand firm against her throat. Cement block ground ag
ainst her shoulder blades. Too bad I can’t glare him to death.

  The hand tightened, constricting her airway. He leaned in close. “We’re not supposed to kill ya… but he didn’t say you had to be in perfect shape.”

  The arid stare and putrid breath warned that if she tried escape again, consequences would be injurious even if not deadly. He eased his grip and let his hand slide down her chest as she gulped air. He smirked and glanced at his cohort. With that, he backhanded her.

  Alex shrieked and sucked in an icy breath. Dazed, she winced as a flash of stars briefly obscured her vision. Her eyes blurred and stung, but she refused to let tears fall. Was her cheekbone broken? A metallic taste seeped between clenched teeth, and a throbbing, hot ache spread to envelop the right side of her face. The experience of being hit like that was one she had never before known. And she was glad of that—it hurt.

  “Now maybe you’ll be a good girl.” The thug pinning her sneered. He wrenched her away from the wall, a crushing handhold clinched on her arm.

  These guys had proved much quicker and more highly skilled than the others they’d encountered. And more brutal. Gritting her teeth, Alex looked back at Andy on the ground as the two men led her away. Please be alive.

  Two more shots, another two down.

  His current position under heavy fire plus several henchmen converging on his rooftop vantage point, the time came for Les to move. He grabbed his rifle, and as he ran, he shouted to Aaron, who’d shown up to help even the odds.

  “Psycho!” He tossed two full pistol mags just as Aaron finished dispatching one assailant, then continued toward his next location.

  Aaron caught one in each hand, jammed them into pockets, and ducked as a knife sliced the air where he’d stood. He came up under, grabbed the man’s wrist, ramming his shoulder, snapping the elbow. He continued into a twist, flinging the screaming assailant over his back to slam to the tarred roof deck.