The Polish Discovery: The Society of Orion 1-3 (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 17)

by Gerald J. Kubicki

  Suddenly, there was movement in the weeds. Two machine guns began firing at them from their right flank. The mercenaries immediately dropped to the ground. They began returning fire in the direction of the muzzle flashes. But they didn’t hit anything. Mandy was already gone and moving to the second location. After about thirty seconds, the leader ordered his men to stop firing. He was about to tell them to stop wasting bullets when two more guns opened up from their left flank. Everybody turned and fired in that direction. Bullets were flying everywhere, many bullets were wasted.

  “I need some ammo here,” one of the men yelled. When he heard that, things suddenly became clearer to the mercenary leader. His enemy was implementing a classic delaying tactic and running his men out of ammunition. To him, it meant there only a few defenders inside the farmhouse, but there were probably reinforcements on the way. He had to move swiftly now or they would not get their prize. Wilk, you’re definitely going to pay me much more than thirty million when this is over, the leader resolved.

  “Stop firing,” he screamed and held up his arm. “I want everybody over here, right now.”

  The men began trotting over to the leader. “But if we bunch up, we’ll make easy targets,” one man protested.

  “None of you have been hit so far,” the leader said. “They are not trying to kill us. They are using a delaying tactic and trying to get us to use up all our bullets,” the leader replied. “I’ve seen this strategy before. I’m sure they have reinforcements on the way.”

  “So, what should we do?” the co-pilot asked.

  “We need to go in fast and overrun them,” the leader said vehemently. He clinched his fist in determination. “There will be holes in their defenses.”

  “But that strategy could get some of us killed,” another man said in horror.

  “Then the split of the money will be better for the rest of us,” the leader reasoned. “So don’t get yourselves killed.”

  “How are we going to do this?” One of the braver men asked.

  “We still form a circle around the farmhouse, just like we originally planned. We’ll crawl in as close as we can. When I give the order, we’ll storm the building. They won’t have time to react. Once inside, we’ll kill them all.”

  “He’s right,” the co-pilot said. “Let’s move as fast as possible, before they can set up any more defenses.

  He didn’t know Mandy was only a few yards away and could hear him.

  ***

  “Mandy’s heading back,” Mother Teresa reported into her earplug. She could see her winding her way through the weeds.

  “What are the mercenaries doing?” Steve shot back.

  “They are having a meeting,” the sniper answered. “It looks like one of them is on the phone.”

  “They probably have figured out our plan,” Steve realized.

  Mandy suddenly burst through the front door, dropped her guns, and leaned over to catch her breath. “How did I do?” She asked between gulps of air.

  “You did just great,” Steve complimented her. He gave her a hug.

  “You’re the fastest runner I have ever seen,” Barbara gushed in admiration as she watched the petite girl take in a lungful of air.

  “Do you have anything else to report?” Steve asked.

  “I stayed hidden when they had a meeting. They have a new plan, Steve. It’s not good. They are going to encircle the house and then all charge at once. They will try to overwhelm us,” she told him.

  Steve quickly glanced at his watch. He realized Bart, with the reinforcements, were still at least ten minutes away. Everyone stood by nervously waiting for Steve to say something. They knew they could not stop an all-out charge for very long. He whipped out his phone to call Bart.

  “Where are you?” Steve nervously asked into the instrument.

  “About eight minutes away,” Bart efficiently replied. “How are things going?”

  “We are about to go into our fallback position. We may get overrun. We won’t be able to hold out for long,” Steve said.

  “Hold them off for five minutes,” Bart replied, but knew it would really be ten minutes before he got there.

  “Roger that,” Steve said and hung up the phone. Any other conversation would be a waste of desperate time.

  ***

  “We’ll need to go to our fallback position,” he said solemnly to the group.

  “But then they will be able to get into my house,” Barbara exclaimed. “It won’t take them long to break down any barrier we put up.”

  “Well, we have no choice,” he argued. “We are going to have to start shooting to kill as many as possible,” Steve said sadly. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but now our goal is to just survive.”

  “I don’t want to die,” Paul suddenly screamed. No one else said anything. They were all worried about their own mortality.

  “We are not done yet,” Steve announced. ‘We still have the landmines and some pretty good shooters,” he said to make everyone feel better.

  “We should go now and get set up,” Father Grey uttered nervously.

  “Mandy, I want you back up in the sniper box,” Steve ordered as he pointed to her. “Shoot to kill,” he said grimly.

  “I’ll do my best,” she replied weakly.

  “I also want two people on the ground floor until the mercenaries break in. Then we’ll high tail it up the stairs. I’ll be one of them.”

  “Count me in, I’ll stay with you,” Carl announced knowing it would probably be a suicide mission.

  “I want the rest of you to find things to barricade the door at the top of the stairs. Also, pick a window to shoot from until they get into the house. Once they are inside then I’ll need everyone to aim at the door. Shoot anyone that comes up the stairs. Maybe we can keep them at bay until Bart arrives. Things are going to go fast, so try to think ahead. Now move,” he yelled.

  “They’re encircling the farmhouse,” Mother Teresa informed everyone over the earplug.

  ***

  Mandy quickly traveled up to the sniper location. She relieved Mother Teresa, who immediately dropped back down into the attic, leaving the trap door open. Mandy lay down on the deck with her small legs splayed in a classic sniper position. She lined up the rifle on the edge of the tall grass about thirty feet from the house. She could see the grass moving as the enemy crawled closer to the edge. She figured she could shoot three men before she had to move to a new location. Once they zeroed in on her, the enemy machine guns could be deadly from that close a range.

  Steve had set up a good plan, but like most battle plans, it fell apart almost immediately. This time it was because of human error.

  ***

  Suddenly, Mandy felt movement behind her. She turned to see Barbara Reynolds standing in the middle of the deck.

  “Get down,” Mandy yelled. “They can hit you from there.”

  “I’m not afraid,” the Greek goddess replied as she fingered one of the talismans on her sash. “I’m going to put a stop to all of this.” She grabbed the item and began to say a chant, but never finished. A shot rang out. The bullet found her chest. She went down in a heap before she could finish her chant.

  “Oh, my God,” Mandy screamed. She crabbed walked over to the fallen goddess. She could see the wound was fatal.

  “I didn’t expect this,” Barbara moaned as blood began to flow from her mouth. “I wanted so much to get to know you better.” Mandy tried to put pressure on the chest wound, but the blood kept spurting out.

  “Hang in there. I’ll get help,” Mandy said as tears welled up in her eyes.

  “No, it’s too late,” Barbara said with difficult. “Promise me you’ll keep the sash safe. You need to give it to Colton Banyon, no one else.”

  “I promise,” Mandy replied, but realized Barbara never heard her, she was already dead. She had no time to mourn. She untied the sash and placed it around her small waist. It was more difficult to move with all the hardware around her body, but she
was committed to fulfill Barbara’s dying request.

  Rage now pulsed through her body. She wanted to get even with those responsible for Barbara’s death. She crawled back to her gun just as Steve spoke into her earplug, “Here they come, open fire.”

  Her first three shots found their mark. Bullets were flying everywhere near her now, so Mandy retreated to a new location. Suddenly, she heard two of the land mines go off. There was blood curdling screams from some men. Serves them right, she thought as she lined up another shot while wiping tears from her eyes. The man was literally blown off of his feet by the shot. The other two land mines went off in quick secession. As she went to line up another shot she realized there were no more targets. The mercenaries were about to breach the house. She grabbed her rifle and dropped through the trap door.

  “Barbara is down,” she cried into the earplug.

  “What?” Carl came back.

  “She came onto the roof. They shot her,” Mandy wailed as she sped into the upstairs hallway. Mother Teresa, Father Grey, and Paul were pushing a dresser to cover the door. She dropped her gun and went to help.

  “Them sons-a-bitches,” Paul screamed, grabbed up his gun, and headed down the stairway. He was only two steps down the stairs when the first mercenary crashed through the front window. He bounced off of the already stunned Carl. A second man came through the front door. He went right at Steve. Steve had to drop his rifle to defend himself. It was now down to hand to hand combat.

  Carl was big and strong with excellent close quarter fight skills, but the mercenary quickly drew a knife. He swiped at the big man just as Carl hit him with a right hook. Red blood suddenly appeared on Carl’s left arm. It flowed freely from the wound. He had used the arm to fend off the knife, but it had cut deep into his bicep, and had hit an artery. Carl roared in pain. The attacker was just regaining his footing when Carl used all his remaining strength to pick up the coffee table by the leg in one hand. He threw it at the man. He ducked, but was hit on top of the head with the edge. He staggered backward. That was when Paul shot him in between the eyes. Carl slumped to the floor. Blood poured from his open wound. Paul ran to his side. He tried to stop the bleeding by making a tourniquet from his belt.

  “Carl’s been knifed, need some help,” Paul screamed just as the last mercenary came through the door. He shot Paul in the back as he worked on his son. Paul slumped over his son’s big body. The mercenary turned to shoot Steve, but Father Grey put a three round blast into his chest. Mandy and Mother Teresa were right behind him coming down the stairs. They fanned out to search for any further threats.

  Once they were satisfied that there were no further threats, Mandy turned to Steve. He had the man who attacked him in a bear hug. The mercenary was taller and bigger than Steve, but Steve was a trained martial artist.

  “Secure a perimeter,” he yelled as he grappled with the bigger man. “And see if you can help Carl and Paul.”

  As Father Grey peered out the window, Mother Teresa went to check on the father and son. Mandy decided to help Steve. “I can shoot him,” Mandy said as she aimed her big gun at the man. “Just let him go.”

  “I need to capture him or take this guy out myself,” Steve grunted. The mercenary showed no sign of fear. He went about the task of freeing himself with several countermoves. Suddenly, he was out of Steve’s grasp and pushed him away. He reached down to his belt and produced a big knife which he waved at Steve. An evil grin was now on his face.

  “Don’t shoot,” Steve ordered loudly. Before the man could take a swipe at Steve, two small dagger-like knives appeared in his hands. “I’m an expert Filipino knife fighter,” Steve warned the mercenary. “You can give up, or I can cut you up. The choice is yours.” The man’s eyes grew larger as he steadied his stance. Steve now knew the man had some knowledge of the aggressive Asian style of knife fighting. He would be on the defense. The Asian style was all about offense.

  Steve began to whirl his arms in circles as he kept a steady gaze at the bigger man. They picked up speed. The knives soon became a mesmerizing blur. Without warning, Steve attacked. He charged like a human buzz-saw. He made a quick pass at the mercenary and agilely zipped out of range before the man could use his big knife. Blood quickly appeared all over the man’s arms. None of the cuts were serious, but they were not meant to be. They were meant to scare the opponent.

  “Want to quit now?” Steve asked, taunting him.

  The response was a quick lunge at the smaller man. Steve backed away from the attack. He began to crave up the man’s knife arm like he was a Japanese chief cutting shrimp. More cuts appeared on the man’s arm. It went limp. The mercenary moved the knife to his other hand.

  “This is the last time I’m going to ask you politely to quit,” Steve growled.

  “Never,” the mercenary roared and charged. Steve was ready. First, he cut the man’s thigh so his leg began to buckle. He then sliced across the man’s wrist, causing him to drop the knife. Finally he plunged both daggers into his heart. The mercenary went down without making a sound. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  ***

  A little while later, the leader of the mercenaries regained consciousness. He had been part of the attack, but when Steve had blown one of the landmines, the blast had knocked him out. He opened his grit-filled eyes. He could feel pain in his left shoulder and thigh. He sat up, and found he had shrapnel in both places. He winced in pain as he peered through the weeds at the farmhouse. He saw three people walking around the outside of the house checking bodies. Two of them were women. The realization that his plan had failed made him angry. He was not going to collect the belt today. All his men were dead.

  “It was an ambush,” he muttered to himself. Suddenly, fear gripped his thoughts. He saw one man rummaging through the weeds with a machine gun at the ready. They’re looking for me, he thought. I need to get back to my chopper.

  He painfully rolled over. He crawled as fast as his leg would let him. Once he was outside the farm, he stood up, and began limping towards his ride and safety. While making the journey he cursed out loud. “Wilk you sent me and my men into an ambush. You’re going to pay for that with your life as soon as I get back to Poland.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When the two Cadillac Escalades carrying the backup response members from Dewey & Beatem sped into the farmhouse driveway, they saw four people sitting on the edge of the front porch. They were all dusty, and dirty, with grimy, sad, faces, and their heads hung low. They didn’t even look up.

  The big vehicles skidded to a stop and the doors to the vehicles immediately flew open. Six people dressed in kevlar vests spilled out. They carried machine guns. Each member pointed their lethal guns in a prearranged direction, some went to one knee. When they discovered there were no shots being fired, they moved to the porch in unison.

  “Sure could have used a couple of those vests a half-hour ago,” Steve commented wearily. “They might have saved some lives.”

  Bart quickly demanded. “Where are the mercenaries?”

  “There’re all dead,” Mother Teresa said without looking up.

  “Except one is still missing, we can only account for nine. There were supposed to be ten.”

  “And the Reynolds, where are they?” Bart barked with a sense of dread in his voice. He didn’t see them anywhere.

  “All dead too,” Father Grey answered. “I already gave them last rights.”

  “Bart, we failed in our mission,” Steve said softly. “We killed all these men, but our mission was to protect the people in the farmhouse. We were not able to do that. This mission was a complete disaster.”

  In the distance, they all heard the sound of a helicopter spooling up to take off. Mandy immediately bounced off the porch. She took aim with her sniper rifle. She pointed it out into the open field.

  “The last mercenary is trying to get away,” she screamed in panic. She watched as a black dot on the horizon rose into the air. It turned away from them. “Damn
,” she cried out in frustration. “He’s too far away.” She dropped her rifle on the ground, covered her face with her hands, and started to cry.

  “We can trace the helicopter,” Bart said to sooth her. “We’ll catch up to him later. He won’t get away with this.”

  “What’s that you are wearing on your waist?” Heather, Mandy’s friend and co-worker, blurted out.

  Mandy looked at Heather with sad, red, bloodshot eyes. “When Barbara Reynolds was dying up on the roof, she made me promise to deliver this sash to Colton Banyon,” she said between sobs.

  “So, this is what Banyon actually wanted protected,” Bart said thoughtfully as his hand went to his chin. “He told me the item could have a disastrous impact on the world if it got into the wrong hands. Barbara Reynolds was protecting it for him. So, in essence, your job was to protect the item, and it is still here. Colt told me the Reynolds understood the risks,” he said to make them feel better.

  “And look what it got her now, she is dead. So are her husband and his father. All to protect some silly old trinket,” Mother Teresa yelled out and shook her head. “No trinket is worth someone’s life.”

  “It’s not just some silly old trinket,” Mandy said angrily. “It’s called The Magic Belt. Barbara was going to use one of the weapons on the belt to stop the mercenaries, but someone shot her first. I believe she used it earlier when the first batch of men came, but nobody actually saw her use it.”

  “How do you know what it is called? And how do you know that it is a weapon?” Heather asked Mandy.

  “The first group that came here said the name. I looked it up on the internet on my phone. Someone is willing to pay as much as thirty million dollars for it,” Mandy replied. “As usual, this carnage is all about money.”

  “You’d better give it to me for safe keeping,” Bart suddenly said. He gestured with his arms.

  “Not on your life Bart. I promised to deliver it to Colt, and no one else is going to touch it, got it?” Mandy blustered heatedly. “It stays on my body until he gets here.” Bart quickly changed from his normally greedy attitude when Mandy mentioned Colton Banyon. He didn’t want another run in with him.