Steel Trap: A Jack Steel Action Mystery Thriller, Book 4

by Geoffrey Saign

  The woman roughly dragged Val forward by one arm.

  Val saw Matt and yelled, “Matt!” She struggled to get away from the woman. “Let me go!”

  The woman stepped in front of Val and backhanded her—Val fell to the ground on her side, crying. “Matt,” she sobbed.

  The woman kicked her in the stomach.

  “Val!” yelled Matt. “Leave her alone!” He tried to step forward, but Steel held him back.

  Steel eyed everyone again, unsure what was going on. He was missing something.

  “She’s a spoiled brat.” The woman straightened her coat. “I’ll be glad to be rid of her.”

  Lucian chuckled. “A woman after my own heart!”

  Matt stopped struggling with Steel, but he shouted, “Val, I love you!”

  Val sobbed from the ground. “I love you, Matt! I will always love you.”

  “What a show!” Lucian beamed.

  Beside Lucian, Therese cowered, her face pale, her lips trembling.

  Steel swallowed hard. His only regrets were that Christie was here, and he would fail Therese. So be it. He would still try to kill Lucian and Dima.

  The Mini Cooper woman stood near Val’s feet and shoved her hands into the pockets of her trench coat. “Do you have the money, love?”

  Lucian gave a signal. One of his men carried forward a small duffel bag and set it in front of the woman.

  The woman eyed the bag. “You’re sure it’s all there, Lucian? Two-fifty?”

  Lucian gave a polite wave. “Please, open the bag and count the money. You deserve every penny of it.”

  “I trust you, Lucian.” She smiled.

  “Yet you won’t give me your name.” Lucian lifted a palm. “How can I believe that you trust me when I can’t call you by name?”

  “Prizrak. Now we’re all good. See? I trust you, Lucian.”

  Lucian laughed. “Wonderful. And you were going to give me the Old Man’s real name.”

  Steel glanced at Angel, who was frowning. Prizrak was selling them all out.

  Prizrak lifted her chin to Lucian. “When I drive away, I’ll give you the name, love. The bounty on him is worth ten million.”

  “Fabulous.” Lucian gave a small bow.

  “Where is the flash drive?” growled Dima.

  Prizrak smiled at Dima. “Valentina has it in her pocket, love. Be patient.” She waved a hand at Lucian. “I suggest you don’t open that briefcase in front of you. It doesn’t have two million in it.”

  “We already know that.” Lucian motioned to one of his men. “Bring it to Steel. I think he should open it.”

  “No!” Christie gripped her gun. She glanced at the tower guards—who still aimed machine guns at her—and then she looked up at the drones. Using her free hand, she wiped tears from her eyes.

  Lucian lifted a hand dramatically to Christie. “Ah, a tragic love story!”

  Lucian’s man picked up the briefcase and carried it to Steel, setting it down in front of him. Steel realized to open it they would have to free his hands so he shoved the piece of metal back behind his belt.

  “Kneel down, Steel.” Lucian signaled one of his men. “Unlock his handcuffs, and then I suggest everyone back away. It could be a small mortar or grenade, designed to take out several people.”

  His men backed farther away from Steel. Matt sat next to him.

  A man unlocked Steel’s handcuffs and stepped away.

  Steel rubbed his wrists. “Move away from me, Matt.”

  Matt shook his head. “No way, Steel.”

  Lucian laughed. “You deserve to have your friends beside you, Steel.” He lifted a hand. “And in case anyone is wondering, I don't think Therese, Steel, or Matt are going anywhere.”

  “Don’t open it, Steel!” cried Christie.

  Steel looked at her. Her face was strained and she was still holding her holstered gun.

  Angel wasn’t moving from the trunk of the Chevy. Prizrak had her hands in her trench coat pockets. Val stared at him from the ground, her hands tied behind her. Steel panicked. Something didn’t fit. Where was the opportunity Christie had mentioned? Maybe he had it all wrong.

  Lucian shoved Therese to her knees and pointed his gun at her head. “This is so much fun! And Steel, if you don’t open the briefcase right now, I am going to kill pretty little Therese.”

  Intuition said do it, and Steel gave in. He carefully unclasped the two latches of the briefcase. Nothing happened. Slowly he cracked it open, just a fraction of an inch. Carefully he lifted it a little more. One inch. He bent over to peek inside, to see if there were wires and an explosive. Instead he saw something else.

  Two Glocks.

  “I love you, Jack Steel!” cried Christie.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  CHAPTER 41

  Zeus timed the armored drone’s flight around the yard. Three minutes total. The three guards that had been smoking must have received a signal through coms, because they stood and split up. One went east to the fence, one west, and one down the center of the grounds toward the dock. Zeus didn’t like it. It would complicate his plan. And everyone was depending on him. The way Angel had described his role, his success would determine everyone’s life. Zeus was determined not to fail.

  He took the safety off the sawed-off shotgun in his hip holster. The Glock on his other hip and the SIG at his back were ready too.

  He listened to what he could hear on coms. Christie and Angel were speaking, along with others in the background.

  The west guard was nearing the southwest corner, so Zeus took a breath and submerged.

  After counting to ten, he raised his head up. The guard was past him, and in seconds the two guards passed each other near the back gate to the dock. The guard walking down the center of the compound had unlocked the gate and casually walked out onto the dock.

  Clay came over coms; “Get ready, Zeus.”

  The drone—still high in the air—followed the guard walking east; the other guard was nearing Zeus’ position. Zeus submerged once more, counted to twenty, and came up.

  The guard had just passed his position at the corner and was walking north.

  Moving fast now, Zeus took off his gloves, then his backpack, which he clipped to the fence just above the water. He pulled out the RPG tube and loaded a rocket.

  Clay said over coms, “Aim for four feet above the ground, dead center on the back wall.”

  Stepping forward, Zeus pushed both sections of cut fence inward, bending the sections back. Sliding the RPG tube into the upper hole, he pointed it at the center of the big garage, aiming four feet above the ground. The two guards were crossing at the top center of the grounds, behind the buildings. The guard on the dock stood there, still smoking a cigarette. Zeus understood; the guard on the dock was protecting Lucian’s escape route.

  Panic assaulted him as he listened to Prizrak over coms. She was a traitor. It didn’t matter. He had to get his part right. He wiped sweat from his face.

  Angel had told him, “Timing is everything.” The guards would be at his position in one minute. He wanted to shout to his friends that he was running out of time. His finger was tight on the trigger.

  Then he heard Christie over coms; “I love you, Jack Steel!”

  He fired the RPG and, without waiting for the explosion that followed, drew his shotgun. Turning, he aimed it at the whirling guard on the dock and blew him into the water. Jamming the shotgun back into the holster, he hastily reloaded the RPG and fired it again. This time he aimed for the hole the first rocket had made in the garage. The second explosion inside the garage was loud. Flames erupted inside the building.

  The armored drone was flying at him, firing a stream of bullets. Dropping the RPG tube, Zeus stepped to the side in the water, his shotgun up and ready. But the drone stalled, and then fell, crashing into the ground. Success. He had hit the drone van in the garage.

  He rapidly crawled through the hole in the fence, one hand dragging the backpack, the Rattler in his
other hand. He rose to his knees and emptied a magazine at a cluster of guards running toward him. One went down. The others ran between the buildings, firing at him from there.

  Charging up the slight incline, Zeus sprayed the Rattler. The snake pants slowed him down, making his steps stiff. He kept low and dove to the dirt behind the odd big box in the center of the grounds. Bullets whizzed around him and struck the box. He realized it was Plexiglass. Thick. Two panels of it protected him, but the gunfire pinned him down. He didn’t want to risk moving into the open.

  From the backpack he grabbed a grenade, yanked the pin, and lobbed it toward the space between the two buildings. It exploded. Crouching, he tried to spot his opponents. Men were firing at him from the north, east, and west corners of the buildings. Maybe three or four total. He tossed another grenade, and then rose to return fire, but the Rattler jammed. Kneeling, he set the shotgun on the ground beside him—for closer targets. Then he drew the Glock and SIG.

  Using the Glock first, he kept up continuous fire, afraid that if he didn’t they would overrun his position and kill him. He realized he was blocking their path to the boat, but he had nowhere else to hide for protection. Two spare mags for each handgun were in his backpack. It would have to be enough.

  CLAY WAS DEVASTATED. Prizrak was double-crossing them. Val’s hands were tied behind her back, and Prizrak hit Val, and then kicked her. He swallowed hard over that. But there was little he could do about it now. He had to take care of his assignment. He put the scope of the Barret on the two guards aiming their guns at Christie and Angel.

  With his finger on the trigger, he waited until Christie gave the code words, “I love you, Jack Steel!” Almost simultaneously an explosion came from the garage. With one shot, Clay killed the two tower guards aiming their guns at Christie and Angel; the next two guards went down as fast as he could pull the trigger. Multiple automatic gunfire and single shots came from the compound. A second explosion occurred and flames erupted in the garage.

  Ignoring it, he swung the rifle muzzle to the east guard holding an RPG, taking him out with a chest shot—the man fired the rocket as he fell back, but the missile went over the top of Angel’s Chevy and hit the west perimeter fence with an explosion. Clay swung his gun west; the guard with an RPG got off a shot, and the explosion rocked Angel’s car off the ground and ended in flames.

  Smoke blocked Clay’s view of the man who had fired the RPG, so he swung the Barret to the garage. Fire and smoke filled his view there too. He inspected the sky for drones. An armored drone was stalled, faltering, but still firing bullets. He shot it down. He lost sight of the second drone in the smoke, and then began taking down guards on the ground as fast as he could.

  STEEL’S HANDS FLEW to the Glocks when the first explosion rocked the garage. Guns in hand, he just reacted. Swiveling on his knees, he shot the nearest guards to the left and right, four in succession. Head shots. Then he took in everything in an instant. The two tower guards aiming guns at Christie and Angel had fallen over the rail to the ground—a sniper was outside the compound—Clay. Angel hid between the Chevy and Mini Cooper with Christie, firing two Glocks at guards to the west. Christie knelt beside him, firing her SIG.

  Prizrak hid behind the trunk of the Mini Cooper, firing two Glocks at guards to the east. Val had scrambled behind the front of the Mini Cooper, firing her SIG—somehow she had untied herself. Steel understood then it had all been a show.

  Bullets bit the trunk of the Chevy. Angel, Val, and Christie scrambled out of the way. The armored drone to the east was still up and firing, moving for better position.

  Some guards hid behind vehicles parked in front of the garage, but a second explosion in the building sent them running for cover, and into Angel’s gunsights. The second explosion also sent the last armored drone spiraling down until it crashed into the ground.

  More explosions came from behind the buildings—grenades—and an RPG was fired at Angel—he had already flung himself to the ground. The Chevy was rocked up off the ground, flames engulfing it. Angel shot the RPG guard from the ground.

  Lucian’s men fell fast. Prizrak and Angel didn’t miss—four Glocks—four shots—four dead. The bodies were piling up fast. An opera of killing. Angel pulled the FN P90 from the front passenger seat of the Chevy and sprayed the men hiding among the garage vehicles.

  Steel shot at targets left and right, close and far. Scrambling to the space between the buildings, he used both the house and the garage for protection. Matt was crawling toward Val.

  Lucian ran for the house, firing at Steel.

  Steel fell backward, shooting Lucian twice in the chest—he had to turn away to fire at guards targeting him from the garage.

  “Help me, Jack! Help!” screamed Therese.

  Steel glimpsed Dima running toward his helicopter, dragging Therese by her arm. Lucian was still upright, running for the house door. Steel fired twice into the big man’s side, but Lucian just stumbled and kept going into the house. Kevlar. Maybe two layers.

  Steel had to forget about Lucian to return fire at guards hiding among the vehicles.

  Prizrak pulled out a machine gun from the Mini Cooper’s trunk and ran to the tower, using one of its thick strut supports for protection as she fired on Dima’s men near the helicopter.

  Lucian’s men quickly retreated into the house or the burning garage, some fleeing into the back of the compound.

  Lucian had disappeared. What bothered Steel even more was the sight of Dima dragging Therese toward the helicopter, which was preparing for liftoff—its blades were spinning. Dima’s men fired at Prizrak, who still stood beneath the tower.

  From the west corner of the house, Steel shot one of Dima’s guards. Dima held Therese in front of himself for protection, backing up as fast as he could.

  Prizrak strode forward, her machine gun taking down another of Dima’s guards. She tossed the machine gun down and drew her Glocks from her trench coat pockets. Fearless. Steel was impressed.

  Dima dragged Therese to the helicopter, shouting, “You’ll have one chance, Steel, to bring me the flash drive. I’ll call with directions.”

  “No, Jack, please!” yelled Therese. “No!”

  Several shots hit the helicopter’s main rotor and the blades stopped turning; had to be Clay. Prizrak killed the last of Dima’s guards. Steel fired at the pilot, who slumped over the controls. He then advanced with Prizrak, both of them aiming at Dima.

  Dima held Therese tightly in front of him. “I can give you the man behind all of this, Steel. Agapov. Otherwise he will come for you. I’ll free Therese and put down my gun in exchange for my life.”

  Steel remembered Dima trying to spare Therese earlier with Lucian. “Let her come to me.”

  Dima released Therese, his hands in the air.

  Therese ran toward Steel, tears on her cheeks. Steel stepped sideways to keep Dima in view.

  “Do you remember who I am, Dima?” Prizrak stood twenty feet from him, one of her Glocks pointed down, the other aimed at him.

  Dima’s eyebrows raised. “Should I?”

  “Sasha. I worked for Anton Sokolov. Now do you remember?”

  Dima brought his gun down fast, but Prizrak shot him in the forehead. He slid to the ground.

  Val ran up to Prizrak, hugging her, while Therese wrapped her arms around Steel.

  Steel shouted, “Val, take Therese.” He pulled back from her. “You’re safe now. I’ve got to go.”

  Therese nodded, and ran to Val, who led her toward the Mini Cooper.

  Prizrak walked up to Steel, guns down, appraising him. “Lucian?”

  “He ran inside.” Steel noted her pink lips and nails. Blue eyes. Still a mystery.

  “Let’s clear the house, love.”

  Whirling, he ran with her into the house. He still wanted Lucian dead.

  CHAPTER 42

  When Christie yelled the code words, I love you Jack Steel!, in her heart she half-expected those words to be her last to Steel. She had size
d up Lucian and his array of forces, and the odds of winning seemed impossible. And until the last seconds, she didn’t know if Steel would get the Glocks. Shirtless, and looking surprised, for a moment it appeared that he might refuse to open the briefcase.

  But in the end he had trusted her.

  The RPGs from Zeus and the sniper fire from Clay had done what Angel had expected; shocked and surprised Lucian’s men enough to give their team an immediate edge. Angel, Prizrak, and Steel were all at the same level. They decimated Lucian’s ranks by a half-dozen every half-second. She, Val, and Clay picked up the leftovers.

  After the RPG hit Angel’s Chevy, Christie remained on the ground, firing at Lucian’s men. In minutes she saw Prizrak and Steel converging toward Dima. She wanted to be with Steel.

  But Angel was working his way alone toward the vehicles and the garage. After what he had risked, she couldn’t leave him with no backup. She ran through smoke, toward one of the vans, as Angel circled around the west side of parked SUVs. Reaching a small van, she peered around the corner. A small truck in the middle of the garage was mostly in shambles, burning inside, sending up billows of smoke. The drone van.

  Shots were fired, but from the west side of the garage, out of her view. Heat baked her skin as she ran up to the side of the large van. The smoke made her crouch to stay out of the worst of it. She worked her way to the back of the truck. More shots from the other side.

  She glanced around the rear corner. A guard held a rifle, aiming in the opposite direction. She coughed on smoke, and he whirled to her, gun up. She shot him three times and he went down. Glancing inside the back of the van, she saw what the RPG had accomplished; destroyed computers and four dead drone operators. Fire and smoke. Burned bodies. Grizzly images. She looked away.

  At the west corner of the van, she again peeked out. Angel appeared walking among the parked SUVs. Dropping to one knee, she scanned below the vehicles. A man lay beneath one, his pistol resting on the floor, waiting to ambush Angel. Dropping to her side, Christie fired three rounds into the man, and he collapsed to the floor. She rose, and Angel saw her and nodded.