by Matt Lynn
“I said he needs help,” snapped Alex.
“And I said you’re expendable,” growled Richmond.
Two men in the circle threw Jack back into the fight. The Columbians were cheering, willing their man to victory. Jack shook his head twice, wiped the blood from his cheek, then straightened himself up. He snorted, then steeled his fists. Alex smiled softly to himself. He’d seen that look before. The guy was about to go in hard, and whatever happened in the next few moments it was not going to be pretty. The Columbian was laughing, glancing around at his mates, and beckoning Jack forward with a taunting jeer. Mistake, pal, thought Alex. Jack drooped his head, then walked shifted sideways, before sending an upper cut straight towards his jaw. The Columbian ducked, but Jack had been expecting that all along: the punch was a feint, designed to lead him into a trap. As the man moved his head down, Jack flung his right leg up into the air, colliding with the man’s chest. The leather of his boot temporarily ripped the air out of his chest, leaving him choking for oxygen, and in that moment of weakness, Jack smashed a fist into the side of his jaw. In a sickening crunch of bone and flesh, the blow drew blood. Alex punched again, straight into the mouth, and as the man struggled to keep his balance, another boot flew up, this time into the groin. Jack swivelled away from the attack, but returned in the same graceful, agile movement, delivering two more hard punches to the face, followed by a follow-up blow to the groin that left his opponent doubled up in pain. The Columbian swung out with his left fist, but Jack sidestepped the attack, and used the opening it presented to punch the guy twice more in the neck. The crowd was falling silent as the blows went in, sensing that the fight was lost, and when two more brutal thumps to the face put him on the floor, they quickly fell silent.
The Columbian lay unconsciousness on the ground, blood seeping from the cuts on his face. Jack walked across to the table, picked up his money, and folded it inside his pocket. “Did you get that beer?” he asked, looking across at Alex.
“Hell, I might even pay for it.”
Jack chuckled. “If I known that, I’d have offered to fight two of them.”
“Who are you?” said the guy with the moustache walking across to join them.
“Soldiers,” said Richmond. “For hire.”
The man nodded. “My name is Sergei Bykov,” he said, speaking in a thick Russian accent. “I think I may be able to use you.”
Chapter Six
There might be a nightclub somewhere with more cocaine, gold and good-looking women on display but Alex didn’t reckon he’d ever been to it. The villa was high up in the mountains, nestled into a crag in the side of the hills, looking out over a lake that stretched a mile into the distance. They’d driven up here first thing in the morning in a Toyota Land Cruiser that Bykov had provided them with. Driven by a thin, wired up Russian, who, like Bykov was a former member of that country’s Spetsnaz Special Forces unit, it twisted its way through the sparsely populated countryside, then up through the dense foliage of the mountains. “Here it is, lads,” said Richmond as they got out of the vehicle. “The devil’s lair.”
From a distance, the villa looked like a private house, but close up it was more like a military compound. A high, electrified fence, built out of barbed wire surrounded the entire complex. A gate led inside but was protected by two armed guards, and, as you approached the main building, the surveillance cameras were evident everywhere.
“Must be a lot of burglary in this neighbourhood,” said Alex, nodding towards the cameras and the sturdy metal bars that protected all of the windows. “Either that, or they are expecting trouble.”
“And they’re going to get it as well,” said Jack quietly.
“This way,” said Bykov, stepping out of the front door to greet them. “The boss likes to meet all his recruits personally.”
He led them through the interior of the building. The main villa was opulently if gaudily furnished, backing onto a heated pool around which what looked like the entire line-up of the Miss Columbia contest were working on their tans. There were a dozen rooms upstairs, as well as a conference room, a gym, a cinema and a nightclub. Off to one side, there was another block where the two dozen men tasked with ensuring the security of the compound lived. Bilado was sitting at the back of the pool area, a towel draped around him, with an iPad on his lap. Alex recognized him at once from the picture Greenway had shown him. Stocky, with greased, thinning hair combed back over his wide forehead, he had a bullying, pugnacious manner to him, like an old boxer. He pulled down his shades, and looked up at the three men.
“The new recruits I told you about,” said Bykov.
They had all given their stories to Bykov last night, sticking as close to the truth as possible. Alex they told him was ex-SAS, Jack a former Seal, and Richmond ex-SASR. They were plenty of men from all three units working the Circuit, as the network of private military contractors was known, and there was no reason why three of them shouldn’t have washed up in Columbia looking for work.
“And what brings you to Caucasia, gentlemen?” asked Bilado
“We heard there was work for good men,” said Richmond. “Men who don’t mind getting into a fight in return for a fair day’s pay.”
Bilado nodded, clicking his fingers for one of the girls to bring him a fresh beer.
“There is,” he said. “On two conditions.”
“Which are?”
“You aren’t afraid of dying and you can keep a secret.”
“You know which units we served in,” said Richmond. “I think our credentials speak for ourselves.” He nodded towards Jack. “If they don’t, my mate here gave a good account of himself last night.”
“I don’t doubt that you know how fight. I need to know that you will fight for me and that you won’t reveal anything of what happens here. There’s a lot of money being made right now, but we have enemies who are closing in on the area, and will attempt to steal everything we have created.”
“You have our word….”
“I’ll be watching you. I want you to know that. Up in these mountains, I am the law, the only law.”
He flipped over the iPad. A grainy film was playing on its small screen but even though it was shot on a home camcorder, the image was clear enough. A man in military fatigues was tied to a stake. Another man approached him, with a chainsaw in his hand, slicing the machine into the man’s stomach, spilling his guts onto the ground. Alex winced. He’d seen plenty of men die on the battleground, but he’d never seen anything as brutal as that.
“That was happened to the last man who betrayed us,” said Bilado. He stood up. “I’m a fair man, and so long as you do your job properly, you’ll be well paid, and you can fuck any of these girls here.” He gestured to the Miss Columbia line-up. “But if you cross me, that is the fate that awaits you.”
A slow smile creased up his lips. “Would you like to see it again?”
“I think once is enough,” said Alex. “I hate repeats.”
“Then rest and relax tonight, and tomorrow we’ll show you the mine and describe your duties.”
Alex walked across to the room he’d been allocated. The barracks was nothing like as luxurious as the main villa but it was comfortable enough. A series of whitewashed bungalows, each man had his own room, and there was space for twenty guys. One of the guards showed them to their quarters. A single bed, a shower, a wardrobe, and a small TV. Alex had seen plenty worse in the Army. He switched on the shower, and stood silently under the jet of hot water for almost twenty minutes, then dried himself off. Outside, there was a communal kitchen, well stocked with food, so Alex rustled up a plate of thick cheese and ham sandwiches, grabbed a coke, and went back to the room to get some sleep. Nothing was going to happen until tomorrow, he reckoned. He might as well get the rest while he could.
By the time Alex woke up it was after eight. He looked for Jack and Richmond, but both men were already down at the main house. A party was in full swing by the time Alex got down there, and J
ack was in the thick of it. A barbecue was cooking up at one side of the pool, the smell of grilled chicken and fish was sizzling across the warm air. Alongside it was a table laden with salads and rice and a fridge stacked with bottles of the local beer. Music was playing loud from a huge speaker system, and the women, dressed only in their swimsuits and sarongs, were moving flirtatiously between the guys. There were lines of cocaine on the side of the table, and a pair of girls were rolling up banknotes for anyone who wanted to snort some. Off in one corner, Jack was splashing into the pool in the company of a delicate brunette, a women who was so far out of his usual league Alex wasn’t sure how he’d plucked up the courage to talk to her.
“He’s enjoying himself,” said Alex to Richmond, nodding towards Jack.
“Let him,” said Richmond. “It may not last much longer.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We’re going out to the mine tomorrow, and that’s going to be rough and dangerous,” said Richmond. “I know how men like Bilado operate. They treat their men well, lay on food and girls and drugs, but there’s a reason for it. It’s to make them forget their lives might well be over in the morning.”
“Then the sooner we finish him the better,” said Alex.
He was scanning the bodies around the pool but there was no sign of Bilado.
“Not yet, and not here,” said Richmond.
“Then where?”
“In the mine. We watch, wait, then choose our moment.”
Alex grabbed a beer, and started to walk. Inside the main building it was far quieter.
One or two of the girls were getting changed into their party dresses, bustling along the corridor, the scent of perfume lingering in their wake. The chef was bringing out fresh food. Six armed guards were staying out of the party: the guys who were on duty tonight, tasked with protecting the building. They were patrolling the corridors, American-made M-16 assault rifles in their hands. But no one paid them any attention. Men with heavy-duty guns were as normal here as they were downtown. Alex walked towards the conference room. Off to one side, he could see Richmond exchanging a few words with a man he hadn’t seen before. Tall and thin, about forty, with a shaved head. Alex remained still, at the side of the door where he couldn’t be seen.
“Va,” the guy with the shaved head muttered, then walked away.
A Russian, noted Alex.
Why the hell is he talking to some strange Russian guy?
True, a lot of the mercenaries here were Russians. They were tough and well-trained and those were precisely the kind of guys Bilado was looking for. But this man didn’t look like a mercenary. He wasn’t ex-military, Alex could tell that with a single glance. Even at a distance, you could see he had soft, unblemished skin, the kind that was more business school than parade ground. There were no muscles on his ribs. Even his nose was straight, never broken. The Russian Army was the most brutal in the world. No one could get out of the organisation without a few scars.
Who is he, Alex wondered. And what the hell is Richmond talking to him about?
He kept on walking. The beer was almost empty, so he knocked back the remains of the bottle, grabbed another from the bar, then walked back through the building again. Jack was trying to impress some of the girls with his dancing, and failing miserably, but there was no sign of Richmond. As he walked passed the library, he could see the accountant for the operation, a small, thin man with glasses called Francisco Siffredi. He was talking to the Russian, the same man who’d been talking to Richmond earlier. A net book was open and they were studying an Excel spreadsheet.
Stiffredi looked up, catching Alex’s eye. “What the hell are you looking at?” he snapped.
Alex shrugged. Act casual, he warned himself. These men are killers.
“Just getting my bearings.”
Francisco was starting to move out of the room, heading straight for him. He was only two inches shorter than Alex but looked up at him with the beady, malevolent stare of a ferret.
“Who are you?”
“He’s one of the mercs,” said the Russian from inside the room. “The boss hired him earlier today.”
“What country is he from?”
“I’m English,” said Alex.
Francisco shook his head in disgust. “We should stick to the Russians. We can trust them.”
“Get back to the party,” saidStiffredi. “If you start poking your nose into things that aren’t any of your business you know what will happen to you.”
Alex turned around and started to leave. As he stepped back onto the patio, a girl brushed passed him. Eighteen or nineteen he reckoned. She was dressed in a short, tight-fitting skirt, and a top that just about covered her breasts and not much else.
“What’s your name?”
Alex tried to smile. Normally he’d have been amazed if a woman as good-looking as this tried to speak to him. But something was bothering him tonight. Something about the number of furtive conversations held in corners.
“I’m Juanita….”
“I’m…”
“Jesus, man, you need to loosen up,” said Jack. He thrust a beer into his hand and started to drag him towards the main stretch of patio where some of the girls were dancing. “I mean, take a look at her. She’s an angel.”
Alex he turned around to look at her.
Jack was right.
She was an angel. And without question, she was the prettiest girl who ever asked him what his name was.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “My name’s Alex.”
She smiled. “That’s better.”
Chapter Seven
She was even better in bed than Alex had expected. And he expected her to be amazing.
They spent twenty minutes on the dance floor, and for the first time in his life, Alex hadn’t felt like a monkey having an epileptic fit whilst trying to move in time to the music. They grabbed some cocktails and food and sat in the corner talking, then hit the dance floor again, went for a dip in the pool, then knocked back a couple more cocktails. Alex could only guess what might be in them: rum, he reckoned, plus some gin, and quite possibly some of the local cocaine. A few of the women were snorting lines of white powder off the tables, but Alex didn’t join them. He’d never liked drugs. His head was messed up enough already, he reckoned: nobody could come through as many battles as he had without having a couple of screws lose. He didn’t need any chemicals messing his head up even more.
At one in the morning, they slipped back to his room. Juanita disappeared into the
shower, and re-emerged minutes later, smelling of shampoo and lust, and with just a white towel wrapped around her body. He kissed her lightly on the lips, reacting as her tongue darted towards his, and her hands started to roam across his chest, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt. The towel dropped from her chest, and once she was naked before him, Alex pulled her close to him, running his hands down her back. “Take me,” she whispered in his ear. “Take me right now.”
They fell back onto the bed. Her arms were wrapping around his body, then his legs. Alex paused, running his tongue along her body, flicking her nipples with his lips until he could feel them start to stiffen, then gently rubbing his mouth between her legs until she started to whimper and moan in pleasure. Suddenly, he plunged deep into her body, grunting as he filled her up, and for the next hour, their love-making was both passionate and urgent. By the time he finally drifted off to sleep, after three in the morning, Alex felt as relaxed as he had done at any time in his life.
And certainly any time since he’d joined Unit Five.
“Wake up,” she said, shaking him from side to side.
Alex got up with a jolt. “What time it is it?”
“Seven.”
“Christ, that’s early.”
Juanita shook her head. “The men are leaving at seven-thirty. For the mine.”
“Then there’s time….”
“No,” she said with a quick shake of the head.
&nbs
p; Alex pulled her towards him and she quickly relented. Her body was still warm from the bed. He pressed his lips into her, then rolled her beneath him, taking her with the energy of a new day. “Not so shy anymore,” she said with a smile when they were finished.
“Am I shy?” asked Alex with a laugh.
“Last night, with the girls you were,” answered Juanita. “Your friend was laughing and joking with everyone but you stay by yourself.”
“I was looking around.”
“You shouldn’t do that. They don’t like it. Not here.”
Alex caught her eye. He could see something there. A warning. “Why? Something’s happening isn’t it?”
Juanita had already slipped into the shower before he could finish the question. By the time she emerged, she was fresh and awake, with some light make-up brightening up her face.
“I said something is happening here, isn’t it?”
“There’s a gold mine,” said Juanita quietly. “Since the earliest times men have come here in search of the gold Bad men, violent men. Now they come again….”
“Who?”
“I don’t’ know.”
Juanita crossed herself, then hugged Alex close to her chest.
“You be careful, that’s all.”
Chapter Eight
“How many of them did you have?” asked Jack with a broad grin.
The two men had just clambered aboard a Toyota Land Cruiser, and the heavy vehicle had pulled away from the compound and was starting to twist away into the mountains. It was only eight in the morning and there had only been time to grab a quick coffee and some eggs before they were told to catch the last truck leaving for the mines. Clouds had drifted across the sky, black and ugly, and some rain was starting to spit from them. The air was hot and humid and sticky, even at this time of day, and Alex could feel the sweat starting to cling to him, and hear the insects buzzing close to the vehicle.
