Hellfire- The Series, Volumes 1-3

by Leigh Barker

  “Thank you for coming, Christian,” she said, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. He shied away a little and she froze. “What is it? Have I done something?”

  Christian put his hand on hers. “No, of course not.” He nodded towards the driver’s door. “But not in front of the help.” He smiled the smile. “Later. We’ll have plenty of time for that. And more.”

  She giggled and cut it off, realizing she sounded like a silly schoolgirl. She sat back and watched the people passing by. They didn’t know she was sitting next to the most beautiful man in the world, and that he was her man. A shiver ran through her and she repeated the thought, her man. She gave him a long look just to make sure he really was there and she wasn’t dreaming, again.

  The driver, whose name she couldn’t recall, got out, walked around the car, opened her door and stepped back. She was puzzled for a moment, then saw the restaurant behind him. They’d arrived and she had no recollection of the journey, all she’d seen was Christian. Her man.

  And then he was there, leaning down into the car and offering her his hand.

  The maitre d’ opened the door for them and led them to a corner table, his corner table, shooing people out of the way as they went. It was embarrassing, and wonderful.

  Christian ordered wine and she was about to say she had to go back to work, but of course, she wasn’t going back. She would spend every moment with him.

  “A toast,” he said, raising his glass and waiting for her to raise hers. “To our future, filled with promise.”

  She almost dropped her glass, recovered and smiled at him. “Our future.”

  Their glasses clinked and Christian put his down untouched, while she drained hers, in an effort to calm her racing thoughts.

  “I have taken the liberty of ordering for us,” he said, and raised his beautifully manicured hand. “To save time.”

  She giggled. It was infuriating, but she couldn’t help it.

  He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, and she fell into those bottomless eyes. “Before we begin to enjoy our day,” he said, and took her hand. “There’s something I’d like you to do for me.” He sighed heavily. “It’s tedious, I know, but I want to get my business out of the way so I can give you my undivided attention.”

  She nodded. “Yes, of course. Yes, ask. Please.”

  “With the tragic loss of Senator Wakeman…” He shook his head. “I am left with no real contacts in the procurement subcommittee.” He sighed and looked towards the kitchen as if thinking of their meal. “I need to speak to Congressmen Bernstein about my… err… business proposal. But I cannot get past his gatekeeper.”

  She nodded thanks as he refilled her glass. “That will be Rachel. She can be ferocious.”

  “Yes, I can vouch for that.” He smiled.

  She tried to remember what they were talking about, but all she could see was him standing on the beach in Barbados with the sun glistening off his wet body.

  “So will you do that?” he said.

  She slid back into the moment and her brain caught up with what he’d said. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you, darling.” He squeezed her hand.

  She drank more wine. It just made her head spin even more. She had never, ever felt like this. It must be how heaven feels.

  “We will see to it directly after lunch. Get it out of the way. Then you can show me the city, as you see it. And then…” He raised his eyebrows, then smiled a smile that crinkled his eyes and made him look like a mischievous little boy.

  “I could do it now,” she said. “The food isn’t here.”

  “No, after lunch will be fine. I have something for the congressman, but it can wait. A little while.”

  Ethan heard the throaty cough of the Barrett and knew instantly why the round hadn’t come his way. The sniper was shooting at Kelsey.

  No more ducking and diving. He snapped the MP5 selector to full auto, stepped out from behind the tree and sprayed the small stand of trees where the sniper perch was. He didn’t expect to hit him, but with bullets ripping through the branches at a rate of eight hundred rounds a minute, not even the best sniper in the world would be able to focus.

  He ejected the spent mag, pulled another from his coat pocket and snapped it in as he ran straight for the trees at the side of the road. One of those hid the bastard trying to kill Kelsey.

  He pointed the submachine gun and emptied the thirty-round magazine in under three seconds, and replaced it on the run.

  Baxter moved the Barrett back towards his target and tried to ignore the nine-mils tearing into the branches all around him. He took a quick breath and fixed the scope on Ethan’s chest.

  And Ethan saw him, pointed the MP5 one-handed at arm’s length, squeezed the trigger and held it.

  Baxter’s brain had already sent the message to his finger to fire when the blizzard of bullets blew his head apart like a dropped melon. His finger twitched and the M107 fired.

  Ethan spun on his heels, slammed back into the tree and slid down among the dead leaves.

  The Reckoning

  Kelsey waited for the .50 cal to punch through the SUV and her. She heard the stuttering phutt of Ethan’s MP5 as it sprayed bullets at something, and that she was still able to hear it meant that the something was the shooter. She took a chance and stood up enough to see through the SUV’s rear windows.

  And saw Ethan spin and go down.

  Every instinct told her to run and try to save him, but her common sense and experience told her that getting her head shot off wouldn’t help him, or her. She scoured the trees in the hope of seeing the sniper, even an inch of him, just something to shoot. Then saw his body flop out of the tree.

  She sprinted across the road and up the hill to where Ethan was lying and slowly turned him over. He wasn’t moving and his face was bloody. Her heart was thumping in her chest, but she realised that if he’d been hit in the head by a .50 cal she wouldn’t be looking at a bloody face, because he wouldn’t have a head. She pulled herself together and began checking his body for huge holes, but he was intact, and that was weird. Then she saw the hole torn in his overcoat and put it together. The huge round had missed him by an inch, ripping through his heavy coat, and that was what spun him. The blood was from where he’d headbutted the tree as he fell. She breathed a long sigh of relief. Not dead.

  He moved, groaned and opened his eyes. “You an angel?”

  “Not yet, but it was that close,” she said, measuring an inch between her thumb and finger.

  He sat up and wiped his hand across his face and looked at the blood. “Has it spoilt my looks?”

  She laughed loudly at the unfunny joke, the tension lifting. “It would take more than diving face-first into a tree to spoil your looks, lover.”

  Now he laughed too, then flinched and touched his ribs. “I think I’ve busted a rib.”

  She poked it with her fingertip and shook her head. “Nah, just bruised.”

  “How’d you know that, Nurse Lyle?”

  “If it was broken and I poked it, you wouldn’t be talking.”

  “Now that’s patient care in action.”

  “Who said I care?” she said, and stood up. “You going to lie there all day?”

  “Thought I might take a nap.”

  She shrugged. “Please yourself.” She turned to go. “You know you’re lying in bear shit, right?”

  He stood up in a single, mighty bound. And looked down at the clear, muddy base of the tree, then gave her a long look. “You’re a cruel woman, you know that?”

  “To be kind, Master Sergeant Gill. To be kind.” She walked off towards the trees where Baxter’s body was lying.

  Ethan retrieved the MP5 from the mud and followed her, rubbing his ribs. “He dead?”

  “God, I hope so,” Kelsey said, “or it’s going to be like one of those zombie movies.”

  “Hey, don’t knock zombie movies. I love zombie movies.”

  “Yes, of course you do.” S
he bent down and took the gun from Baxter’s cold, dead hand. “That is the biggest weapon I have ever seen.” She glanced at Ethan and pouted a little.

  “Nearly the last one I ever saw.” He took the Barrett and looked through the scope. “He shouldn’t have missed.”

  Kelsey took out her cell. “You should’ve stayed still, then, and he wouldn’t have.” She called Dryer.

  Ethan looked around the park through the scope, then glanced down at the bloody wreck that had been Baxter. He shouldn’t have missed. Everything he’d seen of this man’s work had been pro. Except this one. But he’d seen this before, in action, when a man let his emotions flood into his job and he got sloppy, overeager, desperate. And that was when he got killed, or got his buddies killed. This shooter had wanted to kill him so badly it overcame his good sense and his skill. Anybody who allowed that to happen deserved what he got. There was no room for anger in warfare.

  He looked from the body to Kelsey walking slowly back towards the SUV, the cell to her ear. Anger or emotions? Better be sure because one of them was getting through to him right then.

  Yeah, but this wasn’t war. He didn’t believe that for one moment.

  The rain started up again, and they sat in the van and waited for the cavalry. The SUV was a wreck and now part of a crime scene.

  Kelsey looked down at the MP5 between the seats. “You going to hand that over to Dryer when he comes stamping in here?”

  Ethan looked down. “Nope.”

  “What about the .50 cal? You’re going to give him that.”

  “Nope.” He leaned over the seat and put both weapons in the back of the van and covered them with a black plastic sheet.

  “He’ll go ballistic,” Kelsey said. “His crime scene techs will work out what knocked all those holes in everything and start looking around for that five-foot-long gun. They’ll pretty soon realise it hasn’t fallen behind the seat cushions.”

  “Got a pressing use for the Barrett. And I’m going to give the MP5 back to the armorer. And ask him why it jammed and almost got me killed.”

  “I can tell you why.”

  He waited.

  “Running around in the rain with it. And all that rolling around in the mud.”

  He chuckled. “Hon, if that’s all it took to jam an MP5, I think I’d get a bow and arrow.”

  She sniffed and looked out of the window towards the sound of approaching sirens. “Yeah, I can see you as Tarzan.”

  “Well, thanks, I think.” He flexed his bicep. “I’ll just go and get oiled up and put on my loincloth.”

  She feigned gagging. “Oh God! Don’t do that. Holy Mary, I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again.”

  “And thanks for that too.”

  Dryer’s Suburban skidded to a halt in front of the SUV, and Ethan and Kelsey exchanged a look.

  Dryer got out, stepped up to the SUV and put his head in through the missing window, stepped back and looked up at the rain, returned to his car and pulled out an ankle-length black leather raincoat.

  Kelsey looked away, but Ethan couldn’t take his eyes off him, or his coat swishing as he approached. “God, he looks like a vampire from a bad B-movie.”

  “Ethan,” Kelsey said, and waited for him to tear his eyes off Dryer. “Don’t bait him. He’s a dick, but for this gig he’s our boss-dick.”

  “Copy that.” He stepped out of the van and waved a greeting to their boss-dick.

  “Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Dryer said, not responding to the friendly welcome.

  Ethan looked around to see who he was talking to.

  “What in Christ’s name were you thinking?” He shook his head and glared at Kelsey. “And you let John fuckin’ Wayne here start a firefight in Rock Creek Park?” He actually growled. “I should have your fuckin’ badge!”

  Ethan tapped him on the shoulder, still smiling. “Special Agent Dryer?”

  Dryer turned to him, still glaring and a little pink.

  “Language. There’s a lady present.” Ethan pointed at Kelsey, in case there was any doubt.

  Dryer looked from Ethan to Kelsey.

  “And it wasn’t Kelsey’s firefight,” Ethan said. “It was me. Just stopping the bad man. Doing my John fuckin’ Wayne.”

  “Who’s John Wayne?” Kelsey asked, her head tilted questioningly.

  Not for the first time, Ethan noticed how her short, auburn hair framed her face and gave her an elfin look. He liked elfin women, he liked most women, but elfin women were right up there at the top of the list. Dryer was saying something to him, but he wasn’t receiving. He saw Kelsey’s eyebrows rise and her nod towards their boss, and he focused.

  “You say something, boss?”

  “I am not your boss,” Dryer said, and turned as the three Suburbans rolled up, followed by the medical examiner in his white truck.

  Ethan watched the circus arrive, glanced up at the rain tumbling out of the grey sky, and got back into the van.

  Dryer spun on his heel and pulled open the van door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Ethan gave him a second to remember who he was talking to. “Thinking the crime scene techs are going to want my coat.” He lifted his overcoat so Dryer could see the .50 cal hole in it. He saw his puzzled look. “Mice.”

  “Ethan!” Kelsey hit his shoulder with her fist. “This is serious.”

  “Yeah, right, sorry, Special Agent Dryer.”

  Dryer sighed heavily, gave him a dirty look and strode off to organize the investigators, who knew exactly what they were doing without his help.

  “You shouldn’t bait him,” Kelsey scolded, but couldn’t suppress her chuckle.

  “He’s not happy unless he’s angry,” Ethan said. “We going to be here long?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think, as soon as Dryer looks the other way, I’m outa here in this van. With my new .50 cal.”

  “You ever been examined by a shrink?” Kelsey said.

  “Many times.”

  “And?”

  “All said the same thing.” He turned and winked at her as he started the van. “Sanest man they ever met.”

  “Yeah, I believe that.”

  She sank down in the seat as the van bumped off the parking lot and rolled out of the park. With Dryer screaming after it.

  “Hear yesterday was a fun day,” Teddy said, and sat back against the windowsill, his chosen place in Dryer’s office.

  Ethan sat on the corner of the desk, having given up the chair to Kelsey because she deserved it. That and because she got there first and it didn’t seem gallant dumping her on her ass on the FBI’s carpet.

  “Yeah, I know,” Ethan said, “I was there.”

  “Not for long is what I hear.”

  “It was raining.”

  “Dryer’s pissed and threatening to have you arrested for leaving the scene.”

  “Didn’t leave it,” Ethan said, and saw Teddy’s puzzled look. “Drove most of it away.”

  Teddy laughed and looked around quickly. “Dryer still isn’t convinced you weren’t up on that roof with a sniper rifle for nefarious reasons.”

  “Trust me, Teddy, if I’d intended shooting SecAF, I wouldn’t have picked that roof.”

  Kelsey looked up from reading Dryer’s stack of printed emails, upside down. “Why?”

  “Why what?” Ethan said, leaned over and turned the emails to face her.

  “Why wouldn’t you have chosen that roof?”

  “Shooting somebody is easy,” Ethan said, and caught Teddy’s quick nod. “But that’s only the fun part. After that you’re supposed to get away, preferably without getting caught.”

  “And,” Kelsey said, “the only exit from that office block opened onto the hotel plaza. The cops would’ve been all over you.”

  He nodded and looked up as Dryer came in.

  “Let’s make this quick,” he said, sitting behind his desk and frowning at his documents facing the wrong way. “I’ve an important meeting in thirt
y and I don’t want to be late.” He turned his emails face down on the desk.

  “Works for me,” Ethan said.

  “So,” Dryer said, with another look at his stacked documents, “I’ve read the official report on the two shoot-outs you initiated.”

  If he expected Ethan to rise to that, he had a wait to get through.

  “You say there was a sniper on the office roof next to the one you were on, where you got Rayford killed.” He raised one eyebrow.

  “No,” Ethan said. “Can’t take the credit for that; Rayford did that all by himself.”

  “Yes, well, we’ll see about that.” Dryer pulled his stack of emails closer. “Mancini agrees with you, but he says he didn’t see everything.”

  Ethan’s brow wrinkled, but he kept quiet. With an effort.

  “You assert that this sniper…” He fixed Ethan with a hard look. “The one only you saw.” He waved a hand. “But let’s pretend I believe you. You say the sniper was going to shoot the secretary of the air force.” He shook his head. “Which I find… perplexing.”

  Ethan got off Dryer’s desk, walked around behind Kelsey and put his hands on the back of her chair so that he was facing him. “Yeah, I can see how that much information might scramble your brain.” He smiled, as if it was a joke.

  “Let’s say for the sake of argument that there was a sniper, and he was going to shoot SecAF,” Dryer said, but his tone was distinctly skeptical. “Can you say why he was going to shoot her? Bearing in mind your past experience as a detective, of sorts.” He closed his eyes and sighed.

  “The sniper was never going to shoot SecAF, I can detect that much,” Ethan said, with an edge to his voice. He was getting more than a little pissed with this shiny-assed—

  “Then what the hell was all that about?” Dryer said. “And why is Rayford dead?”

  “I can answer the last question easy. Rayford’s dead because you’re a shitty agent.”