Hellfire- The Series, Volumes 1-3

by Leigh Barker

  The sheer lunacy of the thought made him smile.

  He watched the sun shadow sliding down the mountainside. It looked like it was going to be a lovely day.

  He tried not to jump as he turned and saw Gunny leaning against the door jamb and grinning.

  “Thought I was going to have to throw a bucket of water over you for a sec there, Top. Or maybe plant a kiss to wake you up.”

  “Remind me,” Ethan said, getting up a little stiffly, “have I shot you in the ass lately?”

  Gunny put his hand on his chin and gave the question some serious thought. “Not today, that I recall.”

  “Thought not.” Ethan pushed past him. “Day ain’t over yet.”

  “Yeah, only thing that isn’t though.”

  “Copy that,” Ethan said. “The boys up, washed and brushed their teeth?”

  “Mostly didn’t sleep. Except Winter, he slept like a baby.”

  “And the kid?”

  “Glued to that computer most of the night,” Gunny said, following him down the narrow stairs. “What is it with technology and young people?”

  “You have to ask, you’ll never get it.”

  Gunny chuckled. “You sound like my eldest.”

  “Gracie?” Ethan said. “How’s she doing?”

  “Finished college this year. Austin’s starting about now. Can you believe that?”

  “It’s what happens,” Ethan said, and pushed open the door to the kitchen. “She’s still talking to you, then?”

  “Yeah, which is more than her mother is.”

  “I hear you.”

  “You too?”

  “You reminiscing on the bliss of marriage?” Winter said, pulling his head out of the fridge.

  “You dodged that one,” Gunny said, and joined him at the fridge.

  “Came close a couple of times. They ran away.” Winter pushed the fridge door open so Gunny could reach in and pull out half a loaf wrapped in foil.

  “Who keeps bread in the fridge?” Gunny said, unwrapping it.

  “People who want to eat it without the mold,” Winter said, taking the bread from him.

  Ethan took a quick look around the big room that opened onto a shaded internal courtyard. It would be very pleasant on a hot day. Like today.

  Smokey and Loco were out in the yard, Smokey with his feet up on a wicker table and Loco cleaning his M40. Andie was ticking away at her keyboard and frowning, as usual. It could’ve been just another day instead of their last.

  “Time to put your game faces on,” Ethan said. “Company’s coming.”

  Smokey and Loco got up and came into the kitchen and waited. Gunny and Winter waited. Andie stared at him, her eyes too big for her face. Expecting him to save her. Save them. But that was his job, right? Always had been. Except there wasn’t any way he—he squinted at the wall Gunny was leaning against. It was made from rocks from the mountain, chiseled a little, but still mostly small boulders.

  He stepped out into the corridor and looked around for the first time in daylight. The ground floor was made the same way. Two walls of rock making a very effective insulator against the summer sun. And .50 cals.

  Gunny saw him touching the rough stone and moved up beside him. “Yeah, that could work.” He ran his hand over the granite. “Gonna be noisy as hell for a while though.”

  “Slow things down is all,” Ethan said.

  “I’ll take that. But yeah, it’ll stop the fifties for a while, but we’ll be out of position when they storm the place. Sitting on the can when the bad men kick down the door.”

  “Ground floor will keep us from getting chewed up, but that killing machine’s gotta be stopped or it’ll pin us down while the troops rush in.”

  “Got anybody in mind to go stop it?” Gunny shook his head slowly. “You’re just crazy enough, right?”

  Ethan leaned into the open kitchen doorway. “Smokey, go get the Viking. Pick a ground-floor window each and keep your heads down.”

  “Are you going out there, Top?” Smokey said, his voice rising a little as he realized that was exactly what Ethan intended.

  “Yeah,” Winter said, picking up his rifle, “me and Top are going for an early morning constitutional. Mountain air’s good for you.”

  Ethan thought to say no for a nanosecond, then checked his M16’s mag. “We’ll knock out the fifties; then you skedaddle upstairs and prepare to repel boarders.”

  “I’m coming,” Gunny said.

  Ethan shook his head. “We’ll likely stop for coffee so not get back in time for the infantry assault. It’ll be down to you to make the price too high and send them on their way.”

  Smokey came back down the stairs with Marius on his heels, looking drawn and tired. Somebody else didn’t get any sleep.

  Marius took one look at Ethan and Winter and knew. “You’re going outside?” He glanced at the ornate front door. “The Toyota’s pulled up on the crossroads. Three hundred meters.”

  “That’s close,” Gunny said. “I’m guessing it’s the only line of sight in all this rock.”

  “And you’d be correct,” Marius said. “And the other thing about all this rock. There’s no way down into the village except that road.” He saw Ethan glance out through the kitchen. “No, that way is a sheer cliff, or near enough it doesn’t matter. And the same on the other side. A glacier came this way at some time.”

  “So they have to go right down the middle of the road,” Gunny said, shaking his head.

  “Unless they can fly,” Marius said.

  “We’ll be getting wings soon enough,” Winter said, and started towards the door. “Maybe they’ll take time to set up.”

  “What’s to set up?” Ethan said, following. “Fifties are mounted on the pickup.” As he reached for the door handle, he caught Gunny’s eye. “Do your thing, Chuck. Keep them safe.”

  “Copy that.”

  Philip Clayton-Thomas was muttering to himself as he walked down the long hotel corridor and squeezed past the maid’s trolley. Respect, was that too much to ask? After everything he’d done for the organisation and for Mr. Hofmann. Not being treated like an idiot seemed little to ask. He should resign. That would make them sorry. They’d soon miss him. Realize just how much he brought to the role. How much work he did under the radar, not looking for brownie points or special treatment. No, just a little respect. And by the time he’d driven out of the gate, his desk would’ve been taken by somebody else and people would be saying Philip who? He’d seen it a hundred times, said it. Okay then, he’d do something spectacular and make them notice him. Yes, that was better than quitting. Nobody likes a quitter.

  The room he was looking for was at the end of the long corridor, of course. He raised his fist to give it a hard rap, realized what he was doing and tapped it with his knuckles.

  A muffled voice came from inside, a woman’s voice. Had it been otherwise would’ve been a surprise. The door was open and he went in and looked around. Nice.

  And so was the young woman leaning back against the headboard, her breasts above the wrinkled sheet. He didn’t notice.

  “Did you do it?” he asked, eager to get this over with.

  “No, I just thought I’d lie here and rest for a bit. In the middle of the morning.” She made a sheesh noise and shook her head, her breasts moving in counter-time.

  “Good,” Philip said, and noted that the bedspread color clashed with the walls. “No condom?”

  “Christ! What’s the matter with you, man? You think maybe I’m not up to following a few simple instructions? Maybe a nutjob or somethink?”

  “Something,” he said, before he could stop himself.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Something had annoyed her, but he had no idea what.

  “You got my money?” She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, her tight thighs showing red marks of heavy contact.

  He flinched and looked away, but forced himself to look back. This plan was going to get high fives from Mr.
Hofmann. Concentrate, man, it’s just a woman. And men liked this? Things where they shouldn’t be, and missing where they should be. He’d never understood why men bothered. These creatures were manipulative, vindictive, incredibly violent, and hurtful. Mother. Well, yes, but that was different. How was it different? She was all those things. And more. Saturdays. Saturday was the day from hell. Unless she’d been drinking, then she’d just pass out in the hallway and he’d have to put her to bed. Her rules, laid on him with the brown strap, said he’d better not wrinkle her dress. So he’d had to undress h—

  “You finished fantasizing about banging me?”

  He stared at her in horror.

  “You got my money, or you gonna stiff me like every fuckin’ suit I’ve ever known?” She stood with her hands on her naked hips and her legs spread.

  Philip was afraid he might throw up. And that would be bad, very bad. The police can find all sorts of things about you from vomit.

  He wished he’d thought this part through in more detail. Planned it properly. His lips were dry and he was trembling.

  The young woman grinned. “Hey, you got the shakes. Gettin’ a bit excited eh?” She cupped her breasts. “Want a freebie?” Her smile vanished. “You give me the money I’m owed and I might let you have a little feel. How’s that?”

  He put his hand into his suit pocket and pulled out a fat envelope. Her eyes lit up as he handed it to her. She counted it. A ripple of anger ran up his body. She counted the money. As if he would cheat her. His word was the bedrock of his being. It defined him. She…this whore was questioning his integrity. Implying he was like the others she’d been with. Whispering in his head. Promises of the flesh. The smell. Sweat. Drowning in rancid flesh reeking of stale booze and cigarettes. Flesh touched by more men than he could count. Men who smiled at him and pretended to be his uncle. Gave him sweets so he would go away and they could do it. But he could hear them. His head full of roaring then and now. An explosion of shame and loathing. Please let it stop.

  He opened his eyes and saw hers staring at him, glassy eyed and unmoving. And once again it was his mother’s throat between his hands. He snatched them away and let her fall back onto the bed with its clashing bedspread.

  He was breathing heavily and perspiring as if it had been hard work. But it hadn’t, it had been easy. There was a rush of exhilaration, of power and freedom. The roaring had stopped. And he had a erection that felt like it would burst. But not for her. Not for this naked thing spreadeagled on the bed.

  His body throbbed for release, but it would wait. The police can tell a lot from secretions.

  He looked around carefully for anything he might have dropped or touched, but he knew he’d touched only this creature. He hadn’t planned it, thought it through, but this was better than he could’ve hoped for. Everything about it said crime of passion. And this was what it had been, but not as they would deduce. After they got the call about the hooker and the government agent screaming at each other in the hotel room.

  He stopped for a moment and looked at the flesh on the bed, different now, not female and threatening, just…nothing.

  The feeling of power had been overwhelming, wonderful, and only the second time in his life he had felt such euphoria. More intoxicating than any drug man could manufacture.

  He tried to turn away from the thought, but it flooded his being. Today was the most important day in his life. Today he’d done something spectacular.

  “I have an idea,” Marius said, stopping Ethan just as he opened the door.

  Ethan looked back over his shoulder but didn’t turn around. There wasn’t an idea that could get them out of this, not unless the starship Enterprise was overhead and beamed them up.

  “Your little girl,” the Viking said, nodding towards the kitchen.

  “Petty Officer Shea,” Ethan said, feeling the needles of annoyance prickling his cheeks.

  “Yes,” Marius said, and took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Smokey said you were attacked by one of your own drones.”

  “We were,” Ethan said and pushed the door closed in front of Winter. “And it might still be around here someplace.” He slapped the Viking on the shoulder as he hurried past him to the kitchen.

  Andrea didn’t speak for several seconds, just staring at him without seeing him, her techy brain doing its thing.

  “I need to find the drone’s frequency and command codes.” She licked her lips and looked through him.

  “Sounds tough,” Ethan said. “Can you do it?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He could’ve hugged her, but hugging junior officers wasn’t something he did. Ever.

  “How long?”

  She wasn’t listening; her fingers were jumping over the keyboard.

  “That long,” he said, and stepped back into the hallway. “We’re going to have to hold the fort for a while until Andie…” He shrugged. “Does things.”

  “Is it even possible?” Gunny said quietly. “Hack a US drone?”

  “She’s done much more than hack a drone, right?” Ethan hoped he sounded more sure than he felt. A US drone had to have top-level encryption to stop the bad guys just stealing it. Well, yeah, but the bad guys didn’t have Andie on their side. “Piece of cake.”

  Right, piece of cake.

  Nobody believed that, but they were all relieved that he and Winter didn’t have to stroll down the road towards the guns, like Kelly and Oddball walking towards the Tiger tank. Kelly’s Heroes, Ethan’s favorite movie. Just like the real thing, except for the not getting killed doing something stupid part. And the Tiger tank was a Russian T-34, but who’s counting?

  “Pick a window and keep your heads d—”

  The .50 cals opened up.

  Everybody took cover. No need for shouted orders, and nobody would’ve heard them anyway.

  Luckily, the gunner started at the top of the house, thinking that was where any sniper would be, so they had time to get down behind the thick rock walls, cover their ears and wait it out.

  Ethan heard the top floor turn to matchwood, then the second floor. He looked at the open door, jumped to his feet and ran into the kitchen to see Andie still sitting at the table in front of her computer. Jesus has a soft spot for kids and idiots, but not even he was going to be able to stop six hundred rounds a minute. He took her arm and half dragged, half led her to the outside wall and sat her down. She barely glanced up before getting back to her computer.

  “How come you have comms when our radios are useless?” he said in a lull while the gunners reloaded. He almost cared, but mostly he wanted to say something to make the situation seem normal. Anything would do. Just to let her know he was there.

  She pointed at the wall without looking up. “There’s Wi-Fi here someplace. The office.” That was all he was going to get.

  It was enough. The kid didn’t seem to notice that the building was being chewed up around her. Okay, she’d do. He went back to being shot at.

  “It’s taking six seconds for those boys to reload. Slow, but no time to rush them,” Ethan said, leaning over from his sitting position with his back against the rough-plastered stone and shouting into Gunny’s ear.

  Gunny nodded and flinched as the wood and plaster wall above the stone suddenly turned to tissue paper. He mouthed, Slow.

  Ethan shrugged, it made little difference how slow they were, not even Usain Bolt could cover three hundred yards in six seconds. Unless he had a rocket up his ass. He held up his hands with his fingers extended and Gunny nodded again. Ten seconds without firing meant the infantry was coming. Or the weapon was jammed. He didn’t want to think about that and leaned back and let the machine guns wreck the house. Maybe he could grab a little shut-eye. Only if the neighbors dialed it down.

  Six seconds of silence with their ears ringing like they’d been to a heavy-metal concert, then came a sound of an F5 tornado hitting the room as they opened up again.

  They’d expected it to be over in a couple of minutes,
that rate of fire ate up ammunition like a hungry bear at an alfresco buffet, but it seemed to just go on. The Toyota must have been loaded down to the axle with ammo. They all knew the hurricane of bullets was just unsustainable, but they also knew the way they were starting to find their way through the chopped-up walls meant the illusion of safety was about to be exposed.

  A round came through the wall two inches to the left of Ethan’s head, and he brushed the plaster dust off his shoulder and glanced at Gunny, getting a grin in response. Not dead yet. But somebody was going to be real soon, and then all of them right after that. You just can’t buck physics. Stone wall versus twin .50 cals, wall’s going to lose. And it was doing just that.

  If the gunners concentrated on the ground-floor front, they’d breach it in about no seconds flat. Then it would be just the fat lady warbling at the morning sun.

  There was a deep whump that shook the building and brought down a whole section of the front wall and the door. Whatever they’d hit had exploded and turned the safe bunker into a death trap. The gunners just needed to shift their aim a smidge to the left and the inside of the house would be remodeled a shocking shade of crimson.

  The firing had stopped. And Ethan and Gunny looked at each other as they counted off the seconds. At eight they were moving, and the rest of the unit jumped to their feet, leaving the safety of the ground floor and running up what was left of the stairs.

  Ethan ran to the gaping hole where the door had been and looked down the street, at the rising plume of smoke and the crater where the Toyota and the .50 cals had been. He grinned and promised to give Andie a big hug, and to hell with propriety. She’d brought the Predator back to do what it was supposed to do. Kill bad guys.

  The local bandits started up the street, determined to finish the job now the drone was out of Hellfire missiles. By the time they’d spread out around the other houses, the unit was in position.

  The top floor had all but collapsed, but there was plenty of cover on the second floor for Loco and Smokey to set up. They weren’t afraid or excited; well, maybe a bit of both, but nobody would’ve noticed as Loco calmly cleared the rubble away from the flower trough and set up his M40, and Smokey laid out his four thirty-round SMG magazines next to the flattened bright red flowers.