Xander King BoxSet

by Bradley Wright

  “Help!” Xander shouted as the first Rocket Man fanned out his arms and matched the free-fall pace of Xander and the bullnecked Russian parachute, now clearly dead. “Help!” he screamed again, trying to feign being out of control. And what were these guys, expert parachuting Russian mafia thugs?

  The first Rocket Man moved closer through the air and made an attempt to latch on. Xander smiled, put the gun to the man’s head, and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains splattered upward in spectacular fashion, all over the face of Rocket Man Number Two who had moved in right behind Rocket Man Number One. As the wind whipped around him at a deafening pace, Xander struggled against its upward push, managed to squeeze the trigger, and subsequently managed to make Rocket Man Number Two’s head explode in a similar fashion. Rocket Man Two never even saw the gun, or the bullet coming, because the goggles over his eyes were still covered by Rocket Man Number One’s guts.

  “Did you see that!” Xander grabbed the head of his dead-man-parachute and gave it a shake. “Seriously man, you are missing out!”

  Xander couldn’t wait to tell Kyle about this. At least he would appreciate it.

  It was then that a look back over his shoulder at the unrelenting rise of the ground below brought him back to reality. Xander reestablished his grip on the dead-man-parachute, squeezed his legs around him with all his might, and pulled the rip cord. Pavlovich and Rocket Man Three and Four went flying past him. Rocket Man Three and Four pulled their chutes but Pavlovich continued to dive toward the ground. The yank of the parachute deploying was almost enough to shake Xander loose, but his training paid off. The burn in his legs was fierce, but he held on. Rocket Man Three and Four began to pull on their lines, and it slowed them enough to where they began to rise up to Xander’s level. Below them, Xander could see that Pavlovich had finally pulled his chute. He was smart. He knew his best chance at killing Xander would be to be there waiting for him on the ground. After he got rid of the oncoming Rocket Men, Xander would have to try to steer away, at least to give him a chance to land before Pavlovich came after him. The ground below Pavlovich was a plush green open valley that ran into what looked like a small forest, which just so happened to be nestled right up to a vast mountain range. Xander figured it was most likely the Carpathian Mountains. Great, even if he did survive this battle, he was going to be stranded in the middle of a massive mountain range, in the middle of Ukraine.

  Sigh.

  Rocket Man Three floated slowly up to Xander. He let go of his lines and now had both hands on his semiautomatic weapon. Xander did his best to sink his limbs in behind the big Russian in order to shield himself from the spray of bullets. He heard a succession of crackles and heard bullets smack into the back of his dead-man-parachute. Xander reached over the shoulder of his human shield, and just as he was about to pull the trigger on a clear shot, he heard a succession of crackles behind and a little below him. Rocket Man Four, in an attempt to cover his comrade, sprayed a line of bullets up toward Xander. Xander still managed to squeeze off a shot, but it was sent flying off course because one of the stray bullets from behind him ripped clean through the right line on his parachute. The parachute began to fold in on itself, and Xander had a decision to make. He was in the middle of the sky, holding on to a sinking ship, two men shooting at his front and back.

  No time to consider the consequences.

  Shots rang out behind him through the deep blue sky, and Rocket Man Three was now right in front with his gun trained on Xander, barking something in Russian. Xander squeezed with his legs, unclipped the parachute strap from the dead man’s right leg, then his left leg, and just as his hand hit where the clip snapped around his waist, Xander felt a bullet hit just above his leg, causing the automatic reaction of flailing, making him lose the grip that his legs held around the dead man. All of a sudden he was hanging by his fingertips from the clip of a parachute, the iron grip of his hand being the only reason he wasn’t dropping his way toward death. He clung to the clasp like a vice, his hand burning with ache. Rocket Man Four was now at Xander’s level, and once again he was forced to act. He pulled himself up with one arm as he tucked the gun into his waistline. His half-parachute had begun to cause him to circle, and the earth, blue sky mixed with clouds, swirled around him. Rocket Man Three had floated too far away by then, but Four sprayed bullets that zipped all around Xander and smacked into his human Russian shield several times. There was no time to think. Xander gripped the left shoulder strap of the parachute at the same time he unbuckled the last clip. The parachute shifted, pulling the dead man’s arm out of socket, but it stuck just long enough for him to get a grip on the second strap. The chute above him continued to swirl in the wind and this time folded onto itself, and Xander dropped quickly away from Rocket Man Four, plummeting to the ground that was maybe a thousand feet below him now. With both hands death-gripping each strap, Xander spread them out away from each other as far as he could. With the wind whipping around him, his lungs on fire from the struggle, his arms and hands failing him from muscle fatigue, he summoned just enough strength to bring his legs up and kick the dead Russian straight back. Finally, the parachute was free.

  It’s amazing what you can do when death is relentlessly rising toward you at near warp speed.

  Xander quickly pulled himself into the parachute, pulled the gun from his waist, used two of his last three bullets to cut free of the line that held the original parachute and yanked the chord on the reserve chute. It jerked him upward again as it plumed out into the deep blue above him like a cloud of yellow smoke, and finally the ground below began to come at him more slowly once again. The problem was, he hadn’t had time to steer in all of the madness, and now he was dropping straight for an armed and deadly Nicoli Pavlovich.

  Shit.

  As his adrenaline finally took a moment off, it allowed the pain from a bullet in his leg to come screaming to the surface. It was a familiar pain, in a familiar place. It couldn’t have been too far from the bullet he had taken in the calf muscle out on the yacht in the Virgin Islands just a few days ago. This was getting ridiculous. He’d had more holes put in him in the last two weeks than a goth chick on a piercing binge. And his stomach was still sore from its own recent healing.

  Putting the pain aside, he yanked down on the right line and began to turn to his right. Below him, he could see Pavlovich running after him. He would be in shooting range in a matter of seconds. He yanked hard on both lines, trying to float along as much as he could. Pavlovich was running through the middle of an open meadow, through a carpet of purple saffron flowers. The serene landscape that surrounded him was in stark contrast to Pavlovich’s sinister intentions. There was a canopy of pines at the foot of a mountain just in front of Xander. If he could float that far, that was his best chance. The air was much warmer than it had been fifteen thousand feet ago, much more abundant as well. Xander closed his eyes and took in a couple of in-through-the-nose, out-through-the-mouth breaths and steadied his heart rate. He was about three hundred yards from the trees and about fifty from the ground. A rabid and relentless machine of a man was sprinting about a hundred yards behind him. With only one bullet left, and a leaking hole in his leg, it dawned on him that given all that he’d heard about the skills of Nicoli Pavlovich, even though Xander had been through many unbelievable battles over the years, he was about to be in for the fight of his life.

  24

  Here Comes the Cavalry

  Outside the window of the Gulfstream, a never-ending light blue sky cradled the golden glow of the afternoon sun. Below, another never-ending, though darker blue ocean rolled out into the same great beyond like an infinite floor of carpet. The warmth coming through those windows served as what felt like a tranquilizer, melting Sarah into her seat. However, no matter how drowsy, she couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep. Not with the thought of Xander being taken, and not with the thought of her boss being a turncoat, Benedict Arnold, super-sized, lying-ass-traitor son of a bitch.

  “You a
ll right, Sarah?”

  Sarah actually jumped when she heard Marv’s voice. Marv could tell by the look on her face that she absolutely was not all right, and he felt obligated to lend her an ear after all she’d been through. Sarah gave a fake smile and nodded her head.

  “I’m okay. It just seems like we’ve been on this plane forever, and it’s only been like three hours.”

  “I know. There is no reality worse than the unknown.”

  “So true. I mean, I know Xander is the very best at what he does, Marv, but if he’s been taken . . .” Sarah took a deep breath. Marv gave her hand an “it’s gonna be okay” pat. “I mean, you’ve known him longer than I have, do you think he’s okay?”

  “Well, to be honest, it doesn’t sound good. Though I’ve never known Xander to let emotions dictate his decisions, it seems lately that is exactly what he’s doing. And with Manning turning on him and having two of the meanest men on the planet after him, it really doesn’t look good.”

  “So much for encouraging words.” Sarah slumped in her seat.

  “But . . .”

  Sarah perked back up immediately. Marv could see that Sarah didn’t really want the honest truth, just a pep talk. Marv was so terrible at this sort of thing. He didn’t get the “how to comfort women” gene. He didn’t even get the “how to talk to women” gene. Xander was always the one who handled this stuff when they were working together. Marv gave it the old college try anyway.

  “But if there is anyone on this planet that can get himself out of the most impossible situations, it’s Xander King. Or X-Man, as Sean used to call him. We all thought he was some sort of superhero.”

  “So, maybe he’s all right then?”

  Just tell her what she wants to hear, Marv. Damn it. For once in your life don’t screw it up with a gorgeous woman!

  “I think maybe he is.”

  Sarah leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. It worked! At first, Marv was like a deer in headlights; it took him a moment to hug her back. She smelled so good. Lavender and honey.

  “Thanks, Marv. I needed—”

  Sarah’s phone chirped. A new e-mail. Mary roused from a deep sleep in the chair across from Sarah and immediately tuned in to the commotion. Sarah’s heart jumped into her throat when she saw it was a message from Xander. She clicked on the e-mail notification, her eyes serious, ready to take it all in. It didn’t take long.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you. Melanie is a traitor. Sam is prisoner on way to Moscow. Don’t trust Manning. Call Marvin Cameron. I need a chopper ASAP.”

  After that last sentence, she saw where Xander had dropped a pin to divulge his location. Sarah’s heart was still racing as she clicked on the pin, and her phone loaded Xander’s exact location.

  I’m sorry I doubted you.

  She and Xander were okay.

  “You okay?”

  Sarah jumped out of her zone when Marvin spoke. “Oh god, I’m sorry, Marv, it’s Xander. He’s okay!”

  “He messaged you? That son of a bitch made it.”

  “I know, right? He dropped a pin and said he needs a helicopter. But, he’s in . . . hang on, it’s loading . . . Ukraine? How the hell can we get him a chopper in the Ukraine? I don’t know anyone there.”

  “Shit. I don’t either.” Marv rubbed his chin and pushed his black-framed glasses back up his nose. “But I spoke with Jack while you were in with Manning and he said they are with Zhanna. She’s ex-KGB. She might have a contact.”

  Mary leaned forward. “I spent some time in Ukraine years ago. I have a contact there. His nephew used to fly for their military . . .”

  “But?” Sarah asked. She could see hesitation in Mary’s eyes.

  “But he got kicked out. Now he just lives off of his father’s money. I only met him once, he’s like a ten-year-old. He’s out of his mind, always getting into trouble doing stupid stuff that almost always gets him killed. One of those adrenaline junkies. He’s a total wildcard, but his daddy does have a helicopter.”

  Marv’s chin almost dropped to the floor. “You’re serious? Xander just so happens to somehow escape in Ukraine, needing a chopper, and you actually know someone there that has one? You can’t make this stuff up.”

  “Can you make a call?” Sarah asked, her doe eyes doing their very best pleading.

  “I’m telling you, he might end up getting Xander killed. He’s bat shit crazy.”

  “Sounds to me like they’re kindred spirits. Both of them having a death wish and all,” Marv mused.

  “What should I tell Xander?” Sarah asked.

  Mary let out a sigh. “I guess this is the best we’ve got. I’ll make a call.”

  Sarah jumped out of her seat, but her seat belt was still latched and it yanked her back like a yo-yo. It barely even slowed her down, though; she unlatched the belt and ran over, throwing her arms around Mary. Mary gave Sarah a pat on the back and over her shoulder gave Marv a double-eyebrow-raised “wow” face. Marv just smiled and winked.

  “Oh my god!” Sarah said in realization as she pulled away from Mary. “I never called Kyle back. He must think I have abandoned them completely!”

  The satellite phone in Xander’s airplane rang, pulling Kyle, Jack, and Zhanna from their plotting positions on the couch. Kyle shrugged his shoulders at Jack and Zhanna and then walked over to the opposite side of the jet, sat down, and answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Kyle! It’s Sarah.”

  “Sarah? Are you okay? We looked everywhere for you but—”

  “I know, I’m sorry. I panicked when Xander . . . listen, I know about Xander and Sam.”

  “You do? How?”

  “Marv.”

  Kyle had only met Marv once, but he remembered Jack mentioning that he had him looking into things. He also remembered that Xander called him the smartest guy he’d ever met.

  “Yeah, okay, I know of him. We are on our way to Moscow now to get Xander back.”

  “So are we. Listen, Kyle, I just got an email from Xander—”

  “What?” Kyle stood up, his heart leapt into his throat.

  “I know! He got away!”

  “He got away?” Kyle repeated her words but mostly to let Jack and Zhanna in on the news. Both of them jumped to their feet.

  “Yeah! Ha-ha! Can you believe it?” she screamed.

  “How did—”

  “I don’t know how, but I know where. The Ukraine. We have someone on their way now to try to find him.”

  Kyle could hardly process her words. His nerve endings had fried hours ago when he knew his friend was in trouble. But he got away. Of course he did.

  “What about Sam?”

  “All he said was that she was still a prisoner, and still on her way to Moscow.”

  “Shit! I’m gonna kill that motherfucker Pavlovich as soon as I see him.” Kyle pounded the back of a chair with his fist.

  “I’ve got to go, Kyle. How far out are you?”

  “Only about an hour now.”

  “You?”

  “Ugh, still about five or so.”

  “Wow, where are you coming from?”

  “I know, I’m sorry. Virginia. Hey, Marv wants to talk with Jack and Zhanna to help coordinate. He says if Zhanna can tell him where Dragov will be, he can get online and work up a blueprint.”

  “Of course, let me put you on speaker.”

  The six of them came together like they had been working with each other for years. Kyle didn’t understand a lot of the lingo, but he’d been around Xander and Sam long enough to get the gist of it. It didn’t take long for an extraction plan to come together. The last piece, of course, was Xander and whether or not he would be involved. They would have to make their plans without him. That thought brought Kyle a sense of emptiness like he had never felt before. No Sam and no Xander. They had to have Xander. But if they didn’t, Kyle was ready to do whatever it took to get Sam out safely. That was his only goal. Get Sam out safely. When Xander made it to Moscow, and Xander wi
ll make it to Moscow, he would let him deal with Dragov and Pavlovich.

  For now, this was a rescue mission.

  25

  Belly of the Beast

  Vitalii Dragov slammed his fist against his oversized, cherry wood desk. The globe with the golden accents that sat on its corner toppled and crashed against the floor, and Dragov followed that up with a violent sweep of his arm, raking all of the papers off the desk, and they fluttered violently through the air. His face was red, his mouth slobbering, like a pit bull going for the neck. He stood from his chair and waddled over to the window. Then he turned back to Melania.

  “What the fuck you mean he just jumped? How was he ever unshackled? How you manage to fuck this up?”

  “Nicoli jumped after him, sir. I am sure by now Xander is dead.” Melania’s voice held zero confidence, and Dragov could sense it.

  “Oh, you’re sure, are you? Just like Nicoli got him last time?”

  One of the three men standing behind Melania stepped forward. He was still dressed in his all-black tactical gear from the plane ride from Tuscany. “Boss, it’s not Melania’s fault. Xander tricked Boris.”

  Dragov shifted his eyes to this man. A man he did not know. Without a word he picked up a letter opener, took two steps forward, and jammed the blade into the side of the man’s neck. Hot blood shot out onto Melania’s face, and the soldier went down writhing to the floor. No one moved. Dragov pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the spatters of blood from his face and hands. His eyes were black as coals. An evil aura surrounded him. A chill ran down Melania’s back.

  “I want to see her,” Dragov finally said.

  “She is in basement cell. May I speak?”

  “Speak,” he growled.

  “Sam is one of Xander’s closest friends, more like sister. He will do anything to save her. If Xander does make it back here, which I assure you he will not, but if he does, we can use her as bait.”