So Xander did what he does best, and with the help of US intelligence, he found where they were holding Sam in London, infiltrated with ease, and it was what he found there, in that dark abandoned room, that forever changed his mind and heart about Samantha Harrison. He had just taken out the two armed guards at the door and opened it when he saw, chained to the wall in front of him, a mostly naked woman, wearing only a pair of white, blood-covered panties, which matched the rest of her blood-covered body. Xander’s throat tightened and his heart sank. She was hanging by her arms that were chained above her head, both shoulders torn out of their sockets. At first he thought her dead; her head hung limply, her chin against her chest. Then she introduced herself in only the way a tough-ass-bitch like Sam could. Without looking up, she spoke in her sharp British accent to who she clearly thought was her captor.
“I told you, until you find me someone with a bigger knob to shag me, I’ll not say a word.”
Xander instantly loved her. How someone who had clearly been so brutally tortured, raped, and God only knew what else, could have such wit and toughness. He knew that Sam was his kind of woman. He walked toward her, distraught to the core by what he saw, but managed to play back.
“Well, I definitely have the size you’re looking for, but I have no plans on giving you the pleasure.”
The look on Sam’s face when she raised her head was one Xander would never forget. It brought tears to his eyes just remembering it. When she looked at him, the emotion in her eyes was so powerful that it nearly brought Xander to his knees. It was the look one would give when they awoke from a near-death experience to find the face of a loved one; this woman had seen hell and lived to tell about it. Sam didn’t say another word that night. Xander, with the care of a mother for her child, removed Sam’s chains and took her down from the wall. He took his black V-neck T-shirt off and put it on her, taking great care not to further damage the multitude of whip marks on her bloody back. He then took her over his shoulder, killed six more men on their way to safety, and together they have been a force of nature ever since.
“Xander King, I put chopper down right there.” Viktor broke Xander’s trance pointing to an opening in the trees. Xander jumped when he heard his voice and quickly wiped a tear that had streaked down his right cheek. He gave Viktor a nod and looked over the canopy of trees toward the lights of Dragov’s mansion. The same mansion that held captive his precious Sam.
Xander had no idea how he would do it, but he would find a way to save her again. She was in there because of him. All of the people who were in danger on this night were there because of him, and he wasn’t going to let them suffer for it any longer than they already had..
It was in that moment that everything changed for Xander. The switch had finally flipped; he had finally realized what was important in his life. No longer was his life going to be about the past. Xander had far too much to live for in the present. If he made it out of this night alive, all of his relationships intact, things from here on out were going to change.
Things would be different.
32
In the Pines
The helicopter’s rotors finally came to a halt. A deafening silence filled in around them. The air was brisk, somewhere in the low forties. Xander knew without a doubt that their helicopter would draw the attention of Dragov and his men. Time was of the essence, so unfortunately there had been no other way in. Xander consolidated the two half-empty magazines in Pavlovich’s pistols into one full magazine and traded the empty pistol for one Viktor had brought along with him. With Rambo tucked under his right pant leg, Xander felt good about his weapons. It was Viktor doing something stupid with his shotgun while trailing Xander that made for a much larger concern. Xander didn’t like unknowns in combat, and a wildcard like Viktor scared the hell out of him.
“You sure you know how to use that?” Xander whispered to Viktor as they stood outside the helicopter.
Viktor smiled, “Viktor shoot plenty. Viktor also head of number-three clan in all of Ukraine in Black Ops 3.”
Great, more Call of Duty arrogance.
“Please tell me you have done more than shoot in a video game.”
Viktor shucked the slide, loading a shell into the twelve-gauge shotgun’s chamber. “Let’s go, cowboy.”
Shit.
“All right, just stay behind me. There is no doubt a few men are already on their way out here to us after seeing us fly in. And Viktor?”
“Yes, boss?”
“Don’t fucking shoot me.”
“You worry too much, boss.”
Xander shook his head and turned toward the trees in front of him. The grass below their feet was about ankle high, and as they entered, they were surrounded by endless rows of birch and aspen trees. There wasn’t much of a wind; therefore, their footsteps sounded more like the symbol section of a marching band than a walk through the woods. It was much darker under the cover of the trees as well. The fingernail moon and scattered stars offered almost zero visibility. Xander’s senses were on high alert. Viktor kept rhythm with his footsteps, which helped Xander maintain a focus on what might lie ahead. He tried to stay as far as he could from the tree trunks, hoping to avoid snapping fallen branches, but it was a useless endeavor. About halfway in, only around a half a mile to go, Xander held out his hand behind him to slow Viktor. He figured if men were coming to see who had flown in on the chopper, they would be getting close.
To his left he heard footsteps crashing toward him, and before he had time to react someone plowed into him, driving him into the ground. As soon as he hit the ground, he heard a smattering of gunfire from the trees out in front of him. At the same moment, the person who tackled him was already returning fire, apparently hitting their mark because grunts of pain came back to them from the darkness. Viktor let out a squeal and dove to the ground with them. Xander’s instinct was to react, but he felt a light hand on his chest, and as he squinted up at the person leaning over him, he could see that he was wearing night vision goggles. He fired his weapon a couple more times, then turned toward Xander. If it indeed was a man, he wasn’t very big. He wore all black and Xander still couldn’t make out any features. Then Viktor flipped on a small flashlight, and when he ripped off his goggles, Xander found that it wasn’t a man at all. Long red hair fell down around her shoulders and a her thick Russian accent hissed at Viktor to shut off the light.
Zhanna.
The light shut off, Xander bridged his hips, throwing Zhanna off balance, and swept her onto her back. He pressed an elbow down across her chest and leaned all of his weight on her as he whisper-shouted, “What is going on? Why would you do that?”
Zhanna squirmed beneath him, but it was no use; she couldn’t move. She whisper-shouted back, “We have no time for this, more men are coming.”
“Why the hell should I trust you, you betrayed us in Tuscany! Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you!”
Zhanna looked to her left at the same time Xander heard footsteps coming their way. Viktor hit the flashlight. Zhanna’s pistol popped and echoed through the trees. The man running their way flew off of his feet and landed on his back.
“Viktor think that is good reason to trust her, boss.”
Xander looked down into Zhanna’s eyes, and that spark of sincerity that he noticed in Tuscany remained.
“Xander, we must move. I am not your enemy.”
In the distance they could hear more men coming. Xander rose to his feet, paused for a moment as he stared at Zhanna. His mind was fraught with confusion. His instincts were jumbled, but there was that sincerity he saw, and she had just saved his life. Guarded, he puffed out a hot breath of air in a cottony cloud and then finally held out his hand. She grabbed it with force, and as soon as she made it to her feet she turned toward Viktor. He thought she was helping him up, but before he could protest, she took his flashlight and cracked it over her knee, plunging them once again into the darkness.
Viktor said, “Hey! That was V
iktor’s torch!”
Zhanna covered his mouth. “Who the hell is this, Xander?”
“He saved my life and he didn’t run when shit got a little tough.” They both knew he was referring to Tuscany when Zhanna disappeared.
“I just saved your life, but now we must run, together. Now!” she whisper-shouted one last time as the footfalls drew closer around them. Leaves rustled and fallen branches cracked. Zhanna grabbed Xander by the hand and pulled him off to the right. As he and Viktor followed behind her, he couldn’t reconcile why she would save his life. Especially after bailing on them in Tuscany, and then it hit him: how was she here and Kyle wasn’t?
Xander stopped running and yanked Zhanna back toward him. “Where’s Kyle?”
“Xander, we do not have time for this. I will explain, but right now we must get to tunnel! These men may know nothing about tunnel. Either way, it will be only way into mansion. We can still have element of surprise.”
Xander wanted answers, but he knew she was right. He would have to wait, and for the moment, he would have to trust that she wasn’t leading him into a trap. Quite a few yards and several twists and turns later, Zhanna pulled Xander to the ground with her.
“Help me,” she said as Xander heard rustling all around him.
“Zhanna, I can’t see.”
He then felt her grab his hand with her freezing-cold hand, and she guided him down to what felt like a metal handle. “Just help me pull. It will be heavy.”
Xander heard her grunt, and he began to pull with her. Whatever it was they were yanking on, it was heavier than he expected, and he readjusted his position to add more leverage. Behind them, the thudding of feet against earth was getting closer. Xander looked to his left and the flashlights were on now, and they were close.
“We must hurry! If they see us get in here, they will know—Father will know—where the tunnel leads and we will be trapped!” Urgency spiked in Zhanna’s plea. He could hear in her voice that she was not putting on. For whatever reason, Zhanna seemed to be truly trying to help.
Xander wrapped his other hand around the metal handle, tightened every muscle in his body, and heaved with everything he had. Finally, he felt something give, and it slid a few inches toward them. The crack showed light coming from below. To their left, the flashlights drew closer and closer.
“Just little more, Xander. Pull!”
From off in the distance, they heard a man shout in their direction, “This way!”
Dragov’s men were on top of them. They had only seconds before the oncoming flashlight beams made it to their position over this apparent secret tunnel. Xander clenched up one more time, closed his eyes, and pulled with as much force as he could muster. The veins in his arms jutted and the muscles under his skin filled up like a balloon. At the last second, he arched his back and the massive metal cover slid far enough back for them to fit through. Zhanna let go of the handle and practically stuffed Viktor down through the hole. Xander motioned for Zhanna to go next, and as she slid down inside he took one last look over his shoulder. The flashlights couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away.
They hadn’t moved the cover in time.
There was just no way they could not see him.
33
Hot Blooded, Cold Hearted
Dragov sat behind his desk; the yellow illumination of the lamp beside him was the only light in the room. He loaded a nine-millimeter magazine of hollow point bullets as smoke floated toward the ceiling from his cigar that rested in a fancy golden ashtray. A crystal glass full of scotch whisky reflected a rainbow of colors from the lamplight and gave the liquor a sparkling caramel color. The award-winning operatic baritone of Dmitri Hvorostovsky bellowed through the speakers in the corner of the room. A scene from The Godfather wouldn’t have been more cliché. Dragov laid down the now full magazine, sat back in his seat, and took a white Styrofoam cup in his hand. He inhaled a deep, satisfying breath, letting the music, with the help of the whisky and tobacco, soothe him into relaxation. As the door to his office opened and two of his men walked in, he slobbered a massive wad of tobacco juice into his spit cup, then set the cup back down on his desk.
“This better be good news,” Dragov told them.
The man in front winced and cleared his throat. He clearly did not want to say what he had to say. Dragov must have sensed that it wouldn’t be such great news and slid the magazine into his nine-millimeter pistol, pulled back the slide, and was now holding the gun in his lap, expectantly. The man in front of him gulped, then spoke with a shaky tone.
“Boss, a helicopter landed on the grounds. We believe it was Xander King,” he stuttered.
“How you not know for sure?” Dragov took a drag from his cigar and thickened the air with smoke.
“Someone, we think, a woman, helped him . . .”
Dragov replaced the cigar on the ashtray. His face was stoic. “Helped him . . .”
“Escape.”
Dragov said nothing. His facial expression did not change. He simply raised the gun and shot the stammering man in the head. He set the gun back down and once again picked up his cigar. He looked the second man in the eye. “Two things. You can handle two things?”
“Yes, boss. No problem.” This man did not stammer. His nerves were solid. Dragov liked this.
“One, find Xander King and this woman. Two, bring me one of the hostages. Anyone but Sam. You know which one is Sam?”
“Yes, boss. Find Xander King and bring hostage other than Sam. Anything else, boss?”
“Yes. Can you handle more? Unlike your comrade?” Dragov nodded to the man he’d just shot lying on the floor, blood running from his half-missing face. The man didn’t even look down to acknowledge him.
“Andre can handle anything needed, boss.”
“Good, find out if we have intercepted CIA plane coming from America.”
“Yes, boss.”
The man turned and left the room. Dragov picked up the phone and dialed a number in Virginia. A man answered and started right in.
“Dragov, have you killed them yet? This can’t get back to the US government. People are already getting suspicious here.”
“Hello to you, Manning.”
“Cut the shit, Dragov. Are they dead?”
“You only need worry about you. If I find out you are helping Americans, you––caput.”
“You know I wouldn’t. I have too much to lose. Xander will find out about his father, if he hasn’t already. I made a mistake bringing Jack in. He was loyal to the wrong people.”
“A mistake only you will pay for.”
“Listen, Dragov, your daughter—”
“My daughter is dead to me.”
“Well, that might be true, but she’s not dead. But that is what she wants you to be. I think she’s been helping Xander and his team.”
Dragov sat forward in his chair. The words made his blood run cold. He could hear the words of the man he’d just shot echoing in his mind—we think a woman helped him—and a vision of Zhanna flashed in his mind. He hadn’t meant for her to see what he had done to her mother. He didn’t care, but it wasn’t meant for her to see. His mind remembered the coldness with which she greeted him thereafter, until the day she turned on him. That was the last day he had ever seen her, the day she put the knife to his throat.
“Dragov?” Manning interrupted the silence.
“Impossible.”
“Whatever you say, but consider yourself warned.”
Dragov did not speak. The door once again opened, and Andre brought in the hostage that he had requested. Dragov ended the call with Manning, picked up his gun, and got to his feet. Someone had to pay with their life for the mess being made on Dragov’s own soil.
The old cowboy now standing in front of him would do just fine.
34
Tunnel Vision
Xander had been wrong: it wasn’t too late. The flashlights had not found them in time. As quietly as he could, he had moved the cover bac
k over the hole, sealing them in. The three of them heard faint voices of men above them. Xander and Zhanna caught their breath as Viktor stood with his back to them, staring down a narrow, dimly lit tunnel that stretched out in front of them.
Viktor turned toward them and looked up as he heard the voices overhead. He whispered, “Boss, it’s good thing you have big muscles.” Viktor made an ape like motion “Or those guys would have killed us. You and pretty lady make good team.”
Zhanna glanced at Xander’s still bulging arms. Xander noticed, straightened up, and gave her a quick flex.
Ever the showman.
Zhanna couldn’t help but smile, then gathered herself and walked past Viktor. “Come, we have no time. Your friends were taken. They are in great danger. Father is not known for his mercy. And Xander . . .”
Zhanna paused, her face as serious as he had ever seen it. Xander rolled his hands forward, motioning for her to come out with it already.
“Xander, there is something you must know. Something I didn’t know until recently, but . . . you’re not going to like it.”
“Are you going to tell me? Or are you just going to stand there until we are all dead?”
“It’s your—”
The oversized, manhole-like cover shook above their heads, stopping Zhanna from relaying her secret.
“Xander, we must go now.”
“You can’t stop there. What were you going to say? Make it quick—”
The massive cover rattled again.
Time was up.
“You’ll know soon. Let’s go, your friends are in danger!”
Xander King BoxSet Page 44
