by Jordan Dane
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Sable Hunter. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Hell Yeah! remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Sable Hunter, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Out For Blood
Sable Hunter’s Hell Yeah Amazon Kindle World Crossover with
Jordan Dane’s Mercer’s War Series – Book 2
Out For Blood
Copyright 2017 by Jordan Dane
Published by Kindle Worlds
Copyright 2017 Cover Art by Croco Designs
Formatting Services by Wizards in Publishing
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
Bibliography
Out For Blood
Mercer’s War – Book 2
Mercer Broderick is haunted by the death of his wife and son. While on a covert mission as a CIA operative four years earlier, he’d been on foreign soil instead of protecting Keara and Braeden in America. His family’s killers were never found. With his entire world destroyed, he quit the CIA and struggled for a reason to live, wallowing in grief and an all-consuming guilt.
Mercer emerged from the fog of devastation, obsessed with swift justice and driven to honor the memory of his beloved wife and child. He forged a network of wealthy benefactors across the world—the Alliance—influential, high-powered people who secretly yearn for a new world order of vigilante justice. With the support of a mysterious Danish woman, Eva Henriksen, Mercer built Zion in the mountains of Wyoming, a fortified sanctuary for his handpicked team.
After Mercer gets a lead on who ordered the hit on his family, he’s drawn to El Paso to take on the Galvez cartel and the faceless man known only as the Jaguar. Accompanied by his exotic bodyguard specialist, Keiko Kayakova—a blue-eyed Japanese beauty trained by her lethal Russian father—Mercer calls upon the Equalizers to join his Alliance team—Detective Santiago Gonzales, computer genius Saxon Abbott, Micah Wolfe, and Jet Ivan Foster. With the clock ticking, Mercer must take down the Jaguar before he closes up shop and disappears forever, taking his fortune and leaving a bloody carnage of dead witnesses.
But when his plan derails, Mercer is forced to risk his life to stop a mad man from getting away with murder.
Dedication
To Taco & Sancho
You helped me through the worst days of my life and I love that Karl is your amigo.
Dear Readers,
In a world where violence dominates our news and often seems to go unpunished, I was inspired to create a different kind of hero. Mercer Broderick is a brave man of uncommon humanity for our uncertain times. He’s formed a unique band of heroes who live in the beautiful mountains of Wyoming in a fortress named Zion (Heaven) where they train, strategize in a high-tech underground command center, and launch their operations.
Mercer has a support network of wealthy benefactors across the world—the Alliance—high-powered people who secretly yearn for swift vigilante justice that isn’t limited by jurisdictions or international borders. Since the Internet has influenced the actions of a new kind of predator, anonymous criminals can operate anywhere with the world as their hunting ground. Mercer and the Alliance hunt these predators where they live.
Aiding Mercer is his unique four-legged partner, Karl (Porn Dog), a black Tibetan Mastiff. In researching this series, I ran across a real news headline that stirred me to craft a search dog with the ability to sniff out electronic data devices, computer microchips, and SIM cards. Dogs like this do exist, although they are rare. One of them uncovered evidence on the long time spokesperson for Subway, Jared Fogle. Fogle was convicted of receiving child pornography (among other charges) with the help of a search dog named ‘Bear’ that sniffed out a thumb drive police couldn’t find.
Mercer and Karl make a great team and vigilante justice has intrigued me for a long time. In fiction, authors can deliver their own brand of justice. I hope you enjoy book #2 in my Mercer’s War series.
One of the biggest hurdles for an author is ‘visibility’ online. A rating or review on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads is invaluable, and very much appreciated. Honest reviews and ratings boost a book’s placement in searches and that increases sales and discoverability. Please consider rating/reviewing this book and thank you for your support.
Jordan Dane
Sign Up for Jordan Dane’s Mailing List for Exclusive Content:
http://www.jordandane.com/mailing.php
Chapter 1
El Paso, Texas
11:10 a.m.
Gunfire erupted and echoed across the labyrinth of steel rafters and concrete of an abandoned cement plant, sending a flock of pigeons flailing toward a darkening sky. Mercer Broderick ran for cover in the drizzle, returning fire with his SIG Sauer P226. A shadow dodged from behind a barricade—one of the shooters on the move. He counted three.
They were closing in on him.
A bullet spat shards of stone and cut Mercer’s cheek as he ducked behind a cement column. He fired two more rounds and dropped a man with a head shot. One down, two to go. Mercer took cover with his back pressed against a rusted metal girder. Raindrops pattered the sleeve of his brown jacket as he reloaded his weapon. His chest heaved for air and sweat trickled from his scalp.
“What’s your status, Lotus?” he muttered into his com unit, his tone even and steady.
“ETA two minutes.” A woman’s urgent voice came through his earpiece. He heard the rumble of her motorcycle in the background.
“It’ll be over by then.”
“Why didn’t you—”
He knew what she would say. His call for backup had been cut too close—for a reason. He wouldn’t endanger his team for something purely his play. Keiko Kayakova, code name Lotus, would die to protect him. His bodyguard specialist had taken a bullet meant for him not long ago. Only her bulletproof vest saved her life. He couldn’t put her at risk—not for his personal agenda.
“Part of the plan, Lotus. Wolf, out.”
A barrage of bullets pummeled his position in rapid fire. Shit! He slid low and crawled on his belly to get a glimpse of the shooter. When the man stopped to reload, Mercer pushed from the ground, raced toward him and leaped over a barricade.
After he saw an elbow, Mercer heard the man slam a full magazine into his Glock 19 machine pistol and chamber his first round. He’d run out of time. On pure instinct and adrenaline, he rounded a corner as the man raised his weapon with his eyes wide in panic. The fat gangbanger wore gold chains around his neck and an El Paso Chihuahuas T-shirt, the local minor league baseball team. Mercer shot the guy twice in the chest—right through the face
of the snarling cartoon dog.
Peering from behind cover, Mercer searched for the last gunman. When a sudden vibration seized his pants pocket, it jolted him and sent a rush through his body. What the hell? He’d taken off the sound to his cell phone, but it reverted to vibrate.
A bullet zinged by his ear. His kill shot had only made him a target for the last shooter. Mercer rolled across gravel and dirt to grab the dead man’s machine pistol where it had landed. He aimed at a shadow that eclipsed the daylight, a man who emerged from cover to take him out. Mercer used the machine pistol to riddle the assailant’s body.
His last attacker was dead before he hit the ground—and his cell still vibrated.
Panting, Mercer peered over the carnage as he stood in the rain. Blood pooled at his feet as he pulled his phone from his hip pocket. After he saw the name on the display, he took a deep breath and answered.
“Zoey?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s me. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No. It’s great to hear your voice.”
Without hesitating, he wiped his prints from the machine pistol before he placed it near the dead man at his feet. He wiped down his SIG Sauer P226 and placed it in the hands of the last man shot, to stage the scene. He hated giving up his unregistered SIG, but it had to be done.
“You sound out of breath,” she said. “Did you just finish a run?”
“Yeah, you could call it that. Hold on, I need to do something and then I’m all yours.”
“Okay.”
Mercer pulled up his pant leg and retrieved a Glock, his secondary weapon from an ankle holster. He muted his call from Zoey and fired a few rounds into a heaping sand pile. No one would believe he hadn’t fired his gun, especially when his clothing would be peppered with gunshot residue. He knew a crack CSI team would analyze the scene and question his version of reality, but he had a plan that would have to wait until he finished his call with Zoey.
“Okay, I’m back.”
“Are you having a good day?” she asked.
He stared down at the corpse at his feet.
“Anytime you’re on the right side of the dirt, it’s a good day. How’s Kaity?”
Mercer pictured the face of Kaity Boyer, Zoey’s best friend. The last time he’d seen the innocent young girl, he and his team had rescued her from human traffickers. It’s how he met the feisty determined Zoey Meager, a nurse in Denver. Zoey had saved his life after he’d been shot and opened his eyes to a life he thought he’d lost forever. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be loved and have a real home with family. Zoey gave him hope he might one day have that again.
“She’s got a good therapist. Her days are okay, but nights are the worst. Nightmares tear her apart as if everything is happening again. They’re gut wrenching to hear and see.”
Mercer heard the crack in her voice. Zoey had offered Kaity a place to stay while she needed it. Although they were both raised in the foster care system, they were closer than any family he had ever seen, but seeing someone she loved like a sister going through such torture couldn’t be easy for Zoey.
“We’ll make it through this,” she said. “It takes time and I know that, but that brings me to why I’m calling you.”
“What do you need? Just ask.”
Silence.
“Zoey? What is it?”
“I’ve talked this over with her therapist and she thinks it’s a good idea for traumatized sex abuse victims. Kaity’s ready and I am, too.”
“Ready for what?”
“I’d like to get Kaity a dog to be her companion, a therapy dog. My townhouse is pet-friendly. No worries there. A therapy dog would give her something to care for and maybe she’d feel safer when I’m at work at the hospital, but—”
“But what? I think it’s a great idea.”
“I could use your help to find the right dog. You have something special with your dog and I want that for Kaity.”
His search dog Karl—a Tibetan Mastiff—worked with him as a partner, but over the years they had grown close. He loved that dog as if he were his child.
“I’m in. Yes, I’ll help you. I’m tied up right now, but I’ll text you when I can come to Denver. Will that work?”
Blood trailed closer to his boots and Mercer stepped away from the slick pool.
“Yes. That’s perfect. Thank you.” Her voice softened. Zoey had a strength that shifted to vulnerability in an endearing and unexpected way. She could disarm him with one look.
“When I come to Denver, maybe we can do something, just the two of us.”
“You mean like a date?” She eased him off the hook and didn’t wait for him to answer. “I’d like that. See you soon.”
“Yeah. Bye, Zoey.”
Mercer ended the call, replaying the sound of Zoey’s voice in his mind and heart.
It had been four years since the death of his wife, Keara, and four-year old son, Braeden. He would never stop loving them. Both were dead because he hadn’t been home to protect them. His work with the CIA had him on a covert assignment in another country when his precious family had been brutally murdered.
The police never found the killer. He couldn’t accept that.
Grief would color his world forever, yet what changed was how he would redefine his life at the start of each new day. Zoey made him realize that. She deserved better than an emotionally scarred man in his line of work, but fighting the evil that had taken his wife and child had become his life’s purpose.
Although he didn’t know if he had any future with Zoey, she made him want to try, and he owed Keara and Braeden justice. It felt like the right thing to do to honor their memory if he had any hope of moving on from the tragedy that defined his life.
Focus, Mercer. You have a job to do.
He retrieved his cell phone and punched a number he had on speed dial. Detective Santiago Gonzales with the El Paso police answered his phone on the second ring. Mercer didn’t bother with phone etiquette.
“I’m calling in that favor you owe me. Come alone. Now.”
He gave the homicide detective his location and the man didn’t argue.
“On my way.”
As the rain drenched his clothes and trickled down his neck, Mercer pictured the faces of his wife and his son. He wouldn’t hate in their memory, but someone had killed him that day, too. His heart had a gaping hole where love used to live and where home meant something.
When he’d uncovered a new lead on what happened, he’d made a plan to annihilate the man who’d given the order. Mercer knew he’d have to convince a savvy detective to play along, but he didn’t think Detective Gonzales could resist targeting the mysterious head of the Galvez cartel in Mexico, the faceless and lethal man only known by the name, Jaguar.
***
Keiko Kayakova broke all traffic laws as she rode her Harley-Davidson Dyna Low Rider motorcycle like a mad woman, replaying Mercer’s words in her mind, ‘It’ll be over by then.’ He’d said it had been part of his plan for her to arrive late to the party, but knowing how he always flirted with death made her angry.
She pulled up to the deserted cement plant with her eyes alert, listening for the sounds of a gun battle after she took off her helmet, but an eerie stillness made her more afraid—for Mercer. The steady rhythm of the rain carried no comfort.
Keiko ignored the muggy rainfall as she slipped off her Harley, dressed in leathers. She pulled her Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun from a custom compartment on her bike, loaded a fresh mag, and pocketed spares. She wore a holstered Beretta 92FS handgun under her black leather jacket and she had a smaller untraceable drop gun in an ankle holster.
With the stock of her H&K tucked against her shoulder, she chambered a round and merged with the shadows of the abandoned cement plant. The old facility towered over her against a dark sky. Aiming her weapon, she crept through the grounds with her eyes vigilant.
“I’m here. Where are you, Wolf?” she spoke into her com unit.
“
I’m enjoying the lovely weather.” He gave her his location.
Keiko lowered her weapon when she saw the first body. A man lay in a pool of blood with two rounds to his chest. His eyes were open and vacant and a machine pistol lay on the ground near his right hand. He wore gold chains and a Christian cross around his neck.
She wondered if the dead man ever saw the irony.
When she turned, she saw two more bodies and Mercer standing over the corpses in the rain. He stared at her with his fierce eyes and chills raced down her arms. Her reaction had nothing to do with the weather.
Mercer Broderick was the only man she truly wanted, but could never have. He’d made that plain. Even after the death of his wife and child, his heart would always be taken. His loyalty to the dead made her feel unworthy of him, but that was her problem, not his.
“I called a local cop. He owes me.” Mercer’s low gravelly voice soothed her like a long sip of Kentucky Bourbon. “When Detective Gonzales gets here, follow my lead and let me do the talking.”
“He won’t know I’m even here.”
Keiko eased toward him, not taking her eyes off his. When she got close enough to hear him breathe, she felt the heat off his body and filled her lungs with his scent.
“Impossible,” he said. “A man would have to be dead not to notice you.”
Mercer always did know what to say to a woman.
***
Minutes later
Detective Santiago Gonzales had his service weapon in hand when he came upon Mercer Broderick. He wasn’t alone. A stunning Asian woman in motorcycle leathers stood at his side. As he drew closer, he noticed her mesmerizing blue eyes.
Mercer always did travel in good company.
“They shot each other,” Mercer said as he approached. “Real unfortunate.”
