by Greig Beck
CHAPTER 45
“Shots.” Red spun to Mitch who had his head tilted, listening.
“Sniper rifle.” It was Carter who broke first. “Ridgeline.”
“What?” Mikhail blanched behind his beard.
Carter was already heading for the door and pulled it open, allowing Red and Mitch to speed through.
Carter turned to the group. “Mikhail, keep working on more ways to locate or track those damned creatures.”
Yuri waded through the smaller group members. “Bratva? Here now?”
“Probably.” Carter seethed. “You cover the mill. We’ll be back soon.”
“Da.” The big man reached up to slap the gun in the holster at his hip.
Red, Mitch, and Carter sprinted for their cabins, zigzagging and staying low. Carter was already looking along the tree line.
“Gear up. Outside in two minutes.”
The whizzing and soft splut of bullets striking the ground beside them ensured all three men dived to the snow.
“Fuck,” Mitch yelled. He looked up. “Eastern tree line. 10 o’clock.”
“Then that’s where we’ll meet—see you there.” Carter bullocked and burrowed his way to the cabin, then launched himself from the snow to the door, shouldering it open as he dived inside to quickly roll back to his feet.
Bullets continued to hit the building’s wooden frame so he kept going fast to his closet. He yanked it out, dragging the clothing out of the way to get to the false back and his weaponry.
In 100 seconds, he had pulled on his snow camo-gear, and had his rifle and other weapons ready. The last thing he did was put the communication plug in his ear and switch it on. He was thankful to get the electronic handshake that told him his men had already done the same.
He didn’t bother going out the front door where he expected dozens of scopes would be homing in—after all, he had no doubt that he was their main target.
Carter went to the back of the cabin and kicked out some of the rear panels. He dove outside and grinned as he saw his two men kitted up and doing the same.
He leaned around the corner of his cabin and held the rifle and scope to his eye. He saw the figures on the ridgeline trying to conceal themselves. Even though they were in whiteout camouflage fatigues like his own, he knew they weren’t professionals—they’d already fired dozens of rounds and not hit any of them yet.
“Our Bratva buddies—I count eight targets, but probably more scattered up at the eastern tree line.”
“Got ‘em,” Mitch said.
“I see ‘em; orders?” Red added.
“I’ll draw their fire. After all, I’m betting they’re here for yours truly,” Carter said. “You two get up to the tree line and come at them from behind.” He leaned out again and a bullet whacked into the wood near his head.
“We got no time for this shit.” Carter pulled back. “Take ‘em down. Unless it’s Tushino. I want that gold-toothed asshole alive.”
“Roger that; total threat removal, but capture the king. Out.” Both Red and Mitch sprinted up the hill as Carter swung around and fired several rounds into the tree line. One man fell out of his position like a sack of sand and then stayed down.
“That’s one down already, assholes,” Carter said through clenched teeth. He kept on firing, with bullets smacking into the cabin as he drew their fire.
In another few minutes, his men had vanished and he knew they’d be rapidly working their way along behind the line of trees to get into an attacking position. He had no fear that his guys would be worth two or three of every one of Tushino’s goons they came up against.
More minutes passed, and Carter smiled cruelly as he thought through how he was going to enjoy getting his hands on the Russian boss.
Then he heard the scream. His head spun to Sara’s house. There came the sound of breaking glass.
It was a fucking diversion, his mind screamed. Their target was Sara all along.
Carter broke cover, praying his men were in position.
CHAPTER 46
Carter ran hard. He had to trust that his two men would take out any snipers, or he’d catch a bullet any second now. Already, he had that weird feeling of anticipation in the side of his face and ribs that made him feel exposed, waiting for the massive impact of a high caliber slug.
The weird creatures from the bottom of the lake were an adversary that was impossible to understand. But the Russian mafia gave him something to focus on, something he could understand. Carter knew how they thought, what they wanted, and could anticipate them. And Carter also knew that if he could anticipate them, he could get ahead of them, and then he could kill them.
He went into Sara’s house fast and hard, rolling and coming up aiming his gun. He immediately saw the multiple points of entry—the smashed glass and the broken furniture… it would have been terrifying. There were also spots of blood on the ground that made him grind his teeth and want to roar with rage.
They hurt her, and it would have only happened just minutes ago. He headed for the back of the house and found the broken open window surrounded by large boot marks. Carter went straight out into the coldness.
The tracks in the snow behind Sara’s house told him there were several men, possibly up to eight, and they dragged something with them—he knew that was undoubtedly Sara.
He had to hope they had no reason to take a dead body with them. So she was either unconscious or bound. And that meant he still had time.
*****
Red and Mitch went hard and low, staying at least 200 feet back from the tree line. In another few moments, they were coming up on an expected intersect position where they knew some of the shooters would be.
Red lifted a hand and Mitch stopped. Red turned to his friend, put a finger to his lips, and then drew a long blade from a thigh scabbard. Mitch grinned and did the same.
Red then pointed out to the left with a flat hand and Mitch nodded and headed off, while Red took the right side. The men moved silently into the snow-laden forest like a pair of hungry wolves.
Red saw his first target—a big guy in camo pressed up against a tree trunk, an expensive hunting rifle with scope pressed to his eye. His absolute focus was on the compound, and he suddenly braced, leaning out slightly as he prepared to fire at something that had drawn his attention down in the valley.
Red was up on him in three quick strides, and his blade whipped up to enter his neck—he had several good killing areas on the neck to choose from depending on what he wanted to accomplish: the first was to simply slow them down or incapacitate the target—that was accomplished by a simple stab into the neck beside the larynx. If he caught the jugular and opened the esophagus, it meant the lungs and gut rapidly filled with blood. If the guy got medical attention, it wouldn’t be fatal.
But instead, Red chose a much more lethal strike—go into the neck’s flesh at the side, deep, and then sweep the blade outward, severing the larynx, jugular vein, and carotid artery. The carotid was the real sweet spot as it fed the brain with blood. Cut that, and the fucker was dead in seconds.
Red stabbed in hard and swept to the side. A fountain of blood and steam sprayed the air, and Red ducked out of the way.
The guy placed a hand over the gaping wound, his eyes wide and mouth gaping. As he turned, Red saw that already the color was draining from his face. There would be no words, no yell of warning or surprise.
Red gave him a small salute as the guy went to his knees and was about to head off to find his next target when he paused. He quickly reached into the snow to lift the guy’s expensive hunting rifle.
Nice, he thought and laid it up against the tree so he could find it later. He then sped away.
Up ahead was a hint of movement. Red went into stalking mode once again. He tightened his grip on the blade, his eyes never blinking. Red knew that he and his buddy Mitch wouldn’t stop until every one of the would-be assassins was dead.
CHAPTER 47
Carter entered the tree line
, and slowed. Tushino would undoubtedly expect to be followed so he would probably leave a few men behind in ambush.
The men were certainly killers but Carter knew they would be nothing but brutal amateurs. Sure enough, as he edged forward among the snow-muffled quietude of the forest, he just caught the sound of whispering coming from up ahead—amateurs, he thought again.
Carter went down behind a tree and eased his head around. He had on his snow camouflage, and he would have been invisible within the nighttime white landscape.
He didn’t move a muscle and even held his breath for several moments. Then, sure enough, he saw the steaming puff of an exhalation from behind a tree trunk—there—one of the ambushers.
After waiting several more minutes, he saw the other man positioned 50 feet away, creating a potential crossfire kill zone either side of a natural pathway.
Carter knew time was against him, and he had to be past these guys and back to following Tushino before they vanished. He had no idea how they were going to get Sara back to one of the main towns or try and spirit her back to Moscow, but his money was on them having some sort of transportation waiting for them on the frozen lake.
Tushino’s group was headed down along the shoreline and about a quarter-mile inland for now, but he still bet he could run them down given the chance.
Carter drew forth one of his smaller blades and sighted a tree corridor in through the forest. He flung the blade out hard and it traveled a good 100 feet before thudding into the cold trunk of a Larch tree just out to the side of the killers.
In the near-silent forest, it made a sold thunk that dragged both men’s heads around, and their rifle barrels flicked up. As expected, both men stepped out to aim.
Stupid amateurs, Carter thought again and fired.
His first round drilled into the temple of the closest guy. He was thrown to the side. The second guy immediately swung back at the noise, and not being a professional meant his first instinct was to look to his buddy… instead of covering himself.
In that split second, his eyes went from his dead comrade to where Carter was now up on one knee and aiming directly at him… it was the last wrong decision he would ever make. Carter doubted he could even see the small round circle of the muzzle pointed between his eyes, but the next thing he knew, a dinner plate-sized piece of skull was blown out the back of his head, taking half of the guy’s brain with it.
Carter immediately got to his feet and started running hard again. The tracks were easy to follow and surging adrenaline gave him a burst of energy that drove him forward like a machine.
*****
Mitch wiped down his blade as Red joined him. At his feet was a still-twitching man with vivid, pumping blood staining the pristine snow.
“That’s number three,” he said emotionlessly.
“I’ve taken down five; you’re slipping, brother.” Red grinned.
Mitch snorted and then looked about. “There’s nothing living on the other ridgeline. Means the last group is the one that Carter has gone after. Why don’t we join him?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Red nudged him. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to even up your tally.”
“Only if Carter leaves any alive.” Mitch chuckled for a moment, but then raised a single brow. “Hey, make it interesting?”
“Sure, buck a head—let’s go.” Red waved him on and the pair of ex-Special Forces soldiers sprinted into the freezing darkness.
CHAPTER 48
Mikhail paced slowly, lost in thought. Things were going bad—the bratva had arrived and he’d heard shots fired. Given Carter and the two other American ex-soldiers had headed off into the forest, he expected that something had also happened to Sara Stenson.
Mikhail had been trying to call Moscow to let them know what was happening, and to call in help—he managed to get through, but wasn’t sure he was understood… or believed.
Anna gave him a watery smile as she sipped coffee. Color had returned to her face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She nodded. “Better, now.”
“Tell me again…” He dragged a seat closer, “… about what you learned when the creature had hold of you.”
She sipped and stared at the wall for a moment, as she must have taken herself back to being seated before the cage.
“They don’t understand,” she began. “To them, we human beings were not really sentient creatures. Instead, we were deemed nothing but resources, just like the other animals, and were simply biological stocks to be used at will.” She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “These strange creatures have supreme intelligence, but no emotions or feelings or compassion; they were more like insect automatons.”
“It is as we thought; every man, woman, child, and every other living thing on the planet would be used and consumed.” He leaned closer. “Where do they come from, Anna? Did you see?”
“Darkness. The depths.” Her brow creased. “A place that had been used up, leaving nothing but emptiness. I don’t think it was their home world, but somewhere else.”
“I think they’re travelers; like interstellar locusts.” The idea made his skin crawl. “For all we know, they had been jumping from planet to planet for countless millions of years, using and consuming as they went. Time means nothing to them, as they seem to be able to hibernate for many millennia at a time.”
“I just couldn’t…” Her lips pressed together as though she struggled with her thoughts for a moment. “I just couldn’t get them to see who we really are. I still believe they only need to be educated about human beings.” She looked up at him. “It could have killed me but chose not to. I was so close.”
Mikhail patted her shoulder. “Rest now.” He could have laughed out loud, but it would have been with no humor. The bratva had proved countless times that they were happy to mistreat, maim, and kill their fellow people. If you couldn’t change the mafia’s characteristics, then what hope did you have of changing a monster’s? he wondered.
Yuri had been pacing around the room and finally threw his hands up. “I cannot stay any longer, I’m going,” he announced.
Mikhail got to his feet, staring for a moment. Then he said something that even surprised himself. “I’m coming with you.”
Yuri shook his head. “No, I…”
Mikhail turned to Nikolay. “Look after Anna.”
“What?” The young woman’s eyes blazed. “I’m not your daughter.” She sprang to her feet. “Something is happening this night. Something that may decide the fate of our entire species, and I refuse to cower in an old mill.” She folded her arms. “I’m going with you.”
Yuri gaped at Nikolay who just shrugged. “You don’t expect me to stay, do you?”
Yuri sighed. “This will be dangerous.” He looked to the covered body of Stefan and then back at Mikhail “Very, very dangerous.”
“Right now, so is sitting here doing nothing,” Anna shot back.
Mikhail shrugged. “She’s right.”
Anna quickly grabbed her jacket. “We won’t slow you down.”
Nikolay rushed to his father, who was sitting down in the corner just looking at his hands. The young Russian spoke rapidly but softly to him. After a while, the old man looked up, and to Yuri, he seemed to have aged a decade in a day. He nodded and kissed his son on the cheek.
Nikolay then grabbed a portable acetylene torch and a scalpel. “Ready.”
Yuri shook his head. “Put that down.” He went to turn away but then paused. “Bring the torch.”
CHAPTER 49
Tushino urged his men to greater speed to meet their waiting trucks. He had a team of six remaining and after hearing a gunshot from so close behind, he knew that his two men left in ambush positions had prevailed. Or they had not.
If they did, then they would bring him Carter’s head. If they didn’t, then it could very well mean it was Carter closing in on them, and he was more formidable than he had ever imagined.
Tushino gritted hi
s teeth and looked across to the unconscious woman, only just resisting the urge to reach across and strike her again. If the dumb bitch had only just signed his contract, none of this would have happened.
He only just fought down the urge because as long as he had her, he was insulated from a direct attack. But he needed to be on his own turf quickly or he’d be caught out in a frozen Siberian forest in the middle of the night.
His group leader, Bulukov, eased up close to him. “GPS puts us at only 500 yards out. Be there in five minutes.”
“Good.” All of this team could fit in a single truck now. He’d leave the other teams behind so if the next group came back in, they could take another waiting vehicle, as there was no way he would be waiting for stragglers.
He grabbed at Bulukov’s arm. “As soon as we get there, we load the woman and take off.”
Bulukov nodded. “Yes, sir.”
As they approached the frozen lake, the temperature seemed to drop. Tushino’s lungs burned from the freezing air and his mouth became sticky. He spat into the snow, the gobbet freezing before it traveled two feet from his mouth. This was a godforsaken place, and he’d be glad to leave it behind.
Bulukov held up a hand and the group stopped. He turned. “You hear that?”
Tushino frowned and concentrated. “No, I don…” Then he did.
It sounded like something huge being torn apart and a deep cracking like distant thunder. In among the noise, there might just have been a scream.
“What is it?” he asked in a whisper.
Bulukov slowly shook his head. “Sounds like a rockslide, but we’re a long way from any cliffs. What do you want to do?”
Tushino looked over his shoulder. “We must get to the trucks—no choice; we go on.”
The bratva boss gritted his teeth. He fucking hated this place more by the second.
