Relentless

by Brent Towns

  The fifth shot, however, was the catalyst. Each previous shot had opened a hole in the vehicles’ fuel tanks which had released their contents onto the ground. The final shot punctured the tire on a second Range Rover, deflating it instantly, dislodging the grenade which already had its pin pulled.

  There were two explosions. The first was the grenade detonating, blowing the Range Rover apart and turning it into a burning, twisted mass of metal. The second was the ignition, by the first explosion, of the gasoline from the punctured fuel tanks on the other cars, turning them into an expensive and expansive fireball.

  The explosions rocked the surrounding buildings, and Axe felt the heat of the blast from where he lay. “I hope you liked that, Reaper Three. It looks mighty pretty from out here.”

  Inside the large hall, things began to turn chaotic. The explosion had rocked the building, and the occupants were starting to panic. In alarm, a few women screeched, the sounds intermingled with various shouts from the men. Most of them made directly for the exit.

  However, the Iranian wasn’t about to leave before killing himself an American. Arenas saw him reach inside his Armani suit coat and pull a semi-automatic handgun. Samara began to bring it up, and Arenas produced his own M17, sighting and squeezing the trigger just before the Iranian fired, causing the terrorist to drop to the floor with a bloody hole in the side of his head.

  Beside Arenas, Ivanov lifted the hem of her dress revealing a lithe, tanned thigh with a Fort-17 tucked into a thigh holster, as luck would have it, the opposite leg to the one that had been groped earlier. She pulled the weapon free and aimed center mass of an armed guard carrying an AK-74. Her first shot did as she designed it to do. The bullet struck the armor plating of the man’s tactical vest, stopping him cold, even if it didn’t kill him. She then raised her sights and fired again.

  This time the slug ripped into the flesh just below the guard’s chin, doing irreparable damage. He fell to his knees, grasping at the mortal wound, blood flowing freely through his fingers despite his futile attempt to stem it.

  Amid the confusion, Brick leaped down from the stage beside the dying guard and picked up the AK. It would have been so easy to cut loose with a hail of automatic fire and mow down all before him, but SEAL training had taught him otherwise. Instead, Brick picked his targets and eliminated them one at a time.

  Against a surging tide, two guards fought their way through the main exit. Arenas saw them and fired his M17. One fell while the other spun with a flesh wound to the upper right arm.

  Another guard appeared on the first-floor gallery. He opened fire, and bullet scars appeared on the floor all around Arenas before the misshapen slugs whined off across the hall. Someone screamed and fell, wounded in the legs from a couple of ricochets. The Mexican dived left to escape the zeroing gunfire. Ivanov fired twice from her Fort-17, and the shooter reeled back, dropping his AK over the balustrade and onto the main floor below.

  Brick scooped the AK up and turned to Kane. “Here you go!”

  He threw it to his team leader who caught it cleanly. But there was a look of alarm on Kane’s face which told the ex-SEAL that there was some sort of issue. He spun around just in time to see Krystal Meth standing there, a crazy look in her eyes, and an FN Five-SeveN pointed at them.

  The weapon bucked in her pale hand, and the bullet hit Brick in the chest, the armor plate of his vest taking the full force of it. He felt as though a horse had kicked him, and the big ex-SEAL dropped to his knees. Looking down, he saw the hole, felt wetness spreading beneath the vest. He looked up at her and saw a cold smile on her pale face. “How the fuck does that feel, mate?”

  The bitch had shot him with an armor-piercing round which had blown straight through the plate. Now she was going to finish him off.

  The Five-SeveN was now aimed at his forehead. In the fading light, Brick could just make out her trigger finger starting to whiten, and then everything went black.

  Krystal seemed to be oblivious to everything happening around her. Maybe she was high or just didn’t care, but her attention was fixated upon the man before her, and it appeared that nothing else mattered.

  Two 7.62 rounds from the AK, which Kane held, punched into her chest between her mostly-exposed ripe-looking breasts. The deep V of her dress perfectly framing the twin dark holes that appeared in her once flawless flesh. They looked like a pair of black eyes which were starting to weep tears of deep red blood.

  She looked down in amazement. Then with a, “Well, fuck me,” she fell to the floor.

  “Carlos! Brick’s down! Get over here.”

  Kane dropped beside the downed man and checked him. He removed the damaged vest and saw all the blood beneath it on Brick’s shirt. “Axe, get in here, now.”

  “Copy, coming to you.”

  “Reaper One? Sitrep, over.”

  “We have a man down. The bitch shot him with an armor-piercing round. It went straight through his vest.”

  “Copy. I’ll get a medivac spun up.”

  “How far out are those troops?”

  “Five mikes.”

  A hail of gunfire erupted from near the exit. Kane looked up and saw a guard standing there with an AK ripping round after round in their direction. Ivanov blew off the rest of her sidearm’s magazine in the shooter’s direction. He pulled back, and the captain took the opportunity to re-load with a fresh one.

  The guard leaned out to fire again but instead fell to the floor, Axe appearing behind him. “Stupid son of a bitch should’ve been watching his six.”

  He saw Brick on the floor, blood pooling about as it leaked from him at an alarming rate. “What do you need me to do, Reaper?”

  “You and Carlos secure that fucking nuke.”

  “Copy that.”

  “What can I do?” Ivanov asked.

  Kane took out a satchel of clotting agent and poured it into Brick’s chest wound. Then he peeled a gauze pad from its packet and placed it over the blood source. “Hold this here. Put pressure on it.”

  She moved in beside him and pressed down hard to help stop the bleeding. Kane scooped up the HK-74 and said into his comms, “Bravo? Reaper One. How far out is that medivac?”

  “Twenty mikes, Reaper One.”

  “Damn it. Does the Ukrainian unit have a medic with them?”

  “Wait one.”

  About thirty seconds later, Thurston came back online. “That’s a negative on the medic, Reaper One. What is your wounded man’s condition?”

  “He’s critical, Ma’am. If we don’t get help soon, he’ll die.”

  “Sorry, Reaper One. We’re doing the best we can.”

  “Well, do fucking better. Reaper One, out.”

  When Arenas and Axe arrived at the room where the nuke was being kept, the guards were frantically trying to get it out of the bulletproof case. However, they weren’t the only ones within the vault room. Observing their progress was a rather anxious-looking British arms dealer.

  Tony Hancock stood off to the side, handgun by his thigh, glancing back and forth from the device to the entrance of the room. He caught sight of the two Reaper men and brought the weapon sweeping up, blowing through half a magazine when it reached the top of its arc.

  “Son of a bitch,” Axe growled as fragments peppered his body. “He really wants that thing.”

  Arenas leaned around the corner of the opening and fired twice, scattering the guards. Axe cringed and shouted, “Watch the fuck where you’re shooting, man. You don’t want to hit the damned thing.”

  “The glass is bulletproof, Amigo.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, what the fuck are we waiting for?”

  Both men replaced half-filled magazines with fresh ones and looked at each other. Then with a sharp nod and a determined expression etched on their faces, they stepped into the room.

  “How’s he doing?” Kane asked Ivanov.

  “Not good.”

  Kane’s comms came to life. “Reaper,
we’ve secured the nuke. Can Brick be moved?”

  “Negative.”

  “Roger that, we’ll come to you.”

  Kane kept sweeping the room and above for any new threats while Ivanov continued to monitor Brick. Suddenly she gasped.

  “What is it?”

  “He’s stopped breathing.”

  “Shit,” Kane swore and moved in beside her. He checked for a pulse and found nothing. “Come on, you son of a bitch, don’t do this now.”

  He raised his clenched fist and brought it crashing down upon the ex-SEAL’s chest. Then he started performing compressions, counting them off in his head. “Klara, breathe.”

  “What?”

  “Him. Breathe for him.”

  Ivanov leaned over Brick and tilted his head back. She opened his mouth to make sure his airway was clear, and then while pinching his nose, placed her mouth over his, sealing it, and then breathed deep into his lungs.

  They had been working on him for a couple of minutes when Axe and Arenas appeared, bringing with them the suitcase nuke. “Madre de Dios,” the Mexican breathed.

  “Don’t you let that asshole die on us, Reaper,” Axe growled. “He’s the only decent one among us.”

  “Reaper One, this is Angel Flight Lead, copy?”

  “Come on, you son of a bitch, breath,” Kane cursed, pushing harder on his chest.

  “Reaper One, this is Angel Flight One, copy? Over.”

  “Come on, Brick, damn it!”

  “Reaper One, this is Angel …”

  Chapter 11

  Kiev, Ukraine

  The heart monitor at the head of the bed beeped with monotonous regularity like a clock ticking off seconds through time. Kane sat beside the bed, his shoulders hunched over, head in hands, watching Brick’s chest slowly rise and fall. IV lines, chest tubes, and wires seemed to be hooked up to or into every part of the ex-SEAL’s body, keeping him alive.

  The door behind him opened, and a voice asked, “How is he?”

  Kane looked up and saw Doctor Rosanna Morales staring at him. She’d been flown out the day before to take over Brick’s care. After nearly seventeen hours in the air, she looked about as good as could be expected.

  She moved around to the foot of Brick’s bed and looked at the tablet in her hands. Frowning, she read some more before saying, “He is a very lucky man. What you and the captain did saved his life.”

  Kane just nodded, suddenly aware of the strong disinfectant smell in the room. He’d been with Brick for the best part of three days, not wanting to leave until there was some sign of improvement in his man’s condition. “The general told me to tell you that she wants you back at the ops center.”

  He gave a tired nod and spoke for the first time. “Is he going to live?”

  “He’s made it through the last three days so far. That’s a good sign. Other than that, I don’t know. That bullet did a bit of damage.”

  “Yeah.”

  Silence once more descended over the room, and, after a while, Morales said, “Aren’t you going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

  “I know that, Doc. It’s just …”

  “Feels like you’re leaving him behind?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Go, Mr. Kane. From what I understand, you have another important agenda to meet.”

  “Call me Kane or Reaper, Doc. Never mister.”

  “OK, Reaper. Time to go to work. Doctor’s orders.”

  He rose from the chair and stretched all the kinks from his body. When he raised his arms, she noticed the M17 tucked in his belt. “Do you plan on using that thing in here?”

  “Never can be too careful. Might be wise to get yourself one.”

  “You know my stance on guns.”

  “Yeah, I do. OK, Doc, take care of him. I’ll go and see what the boss wants.”

  He started towards the door and then stopped. Turning to look back at her, he said, “Hey, Doc. It’s good to have you on board.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “Take care, Reaper.”

  Team Reaper Ops Center

  Kiev

  When Kane walked into the room, Thurston looked up from where she was standing next to Swift who was pointing at something on the screen. She said to him, “You look like shit.”

  “I feel that way too.”

  “Get yourself a shower and cleaned up. We have a briefing in fifteen minutes.”

  “What about?”

  “Just do it, and you’ll find out.”

  Kane went and showered, enjoying the heat of the water running down his back, then toweled off and dressed. He came back to the ops center, feeling remarkably refreshed and ready for whatever was coming in the briefing. Axe had his nose in a Clive Cussler book and looked up as Kane walked in. “You’re still alive. I was starting to think all the rumors were true.”

  “Are you sure that book has enough pictures for you?”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “What’s up, anyhow?” Kane asked Axe.

  “We have a line on Cara.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “Italy.”

  Before he could ask another question, Thurston appeared with Swift and Traynor. Following them was Arenas. The general asked Kane, “Did Axe fill you in?”

  “Not quite.”

  “OK. Slick, bring everyone up to speed.”

  The red-headed computer marvel cleared his throat and started to outline what he’d learned. “It was hard, but I finally found out who our guy in the picture that Brick sent through, is. His name is Amando Bellandi.”

  The large flat screen they were using came to life, and a picture appeared on it. “This is said man. He has a string of high-class escort agencies and pours more money into the Italian Porn Industry than our own government puts into our armed forces.”

  “Is he Mafia?” Kane asked.

  “No. This guy is much worse. The Mafia is scared of this guy. That’s why they stay out of northern Italy. Milan seems to be the cutoff – an invisible border.”

  “Sounds like our kind of asshole,” Traynor observed drily.

  The picture changed to that of a broad-shouldered man with dark sunglasses. “This is Carlo Laurito. He used to be a Mafia enforcer. But he turned on his don when Bellandi asked him to. Cut his heart out and mailed it home to his wife. He’s been working for Bellandi ever since.”

  The screen changed again, and a picture appeared of a lithe woman with long black hair, clad only in a skimpy bikini which barely contained her augmented breasts. Axe opened his mouth to speak, but his reaction was anticipated by his commander. “Stow it, Marine.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Swift continued. “This is his wife, Elettra. She runs his escort empire, with the flagship, as it is called in the business world, based in Milan.”

  “Where’d he meet her?” Kane asked.

  “I knew you’d ask that,” Swift said, and a DVD cover came up onto the screen with two semi-naked women on it with the title, Escucha a Elettra gemir. “It basically translates to Hear Elettra Moan.”

  “He married a porn starlet.”

  “Yes. It is a place to start. If our friend Bellandi has taken Cara to Italy, then it’s a safe bet that they’ll try to place her in one of their agencies there.”

  Thurston said, “We’re all flying to Milan. I’m also bringing the rest of the team in. We need to find Cara before this all goes too far.”

  “What does Bellandi do while his wife is making out with the girls?” Kane asked.

  “He runs one of Italy’s biggest drug empires.”

  “How are we going to do this?”

  “I’ll set up Bravo in a safehouse, while you and Axe pose as tourists and check out the nightlife.”

  “You want us to go into one of them fancy whore houses, Ma’am?” Axe asked, surprised.

  “It’s the only way you’ll gather intel. One of the girls will know something. I’d bet my las
t dollar that half of them were bought just as Cara was.”

  “If he’s as bad as what you say, none of the girls are going to talk. They’ll be too scared,” Kane pointed out.

  “Let’s hope they’re not. Wheels up in two hours.”

  “Ma’am, I have a question,” Kane said.

  “What is it?”

  “Can I take Carlos to the brothel instead of Axe?” he asked, then stared at his friend. “At least he’s married, and I won’t have to worry about him doing something stupid.”

  “Hey, are you calling me stupid? I swear your constant lack of trust in me hurts my feelings.”

  “Axe will fit right in at the place. That’s why I chose him. Pumped full of testosterone just like a teenager in a sorority house on a college campus.”

  Axe gave him his best shit-eating grin. “See. The boss trusts me.”

  Kane shook his head. “This is going to end in tears; I know it.”

  “It sure will be a pleasure.”

  Thurston rolled her eyes. “Work, Axe, not pleasure. You even go there; you’ll probably catch something which will cause your little worm to shrivel and die.”

  His head snapped around, and he said to Kane, “Did she just say worm?”

  “I think so.”

  “No, surely not.”

  “Yes, I think it was definitely worm. And a little worm at that.”

  “She is a cruel lady.”

  “She’s an officer.”

  “That explains it then. It was still harsh.”

  “I thought so. Me, I’d have called it a grub.”

  “Reaper?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “If you two are quite finished, go and get your shit together. Now.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Milan, Italy

  The black-haired woman with the big tits threw the evening gown at Cara and snapped, “Put that on. You will need a shower too.”

  “What’s it for?”