Authors: Matt Hilton
‘I said
enough
, for fuck’s sake!’ I repeated as I rushed away from her, angrier with myself than at the woman.
I’d promised never to willingly make war on women or children, but there’s something in the old adage that the female’s the deadliest of the species. She’d torn stinging grooves in my forehead, and only luck had saved my vision. God help me if she hadn’t worn her nails cut short. I’d killed women before, a fact I’m not proud of, but always in the heat of battle, and I was happy that this time I was able to neutralise an enemy without fatally wounding her. She’d have a sore head for a day or two, but should recover fully.
I left her sitting against the stack of pallets, holding her face in her hands as she moaned in shock. Any stealth was wasted now and I rushed along the narrow space between the wall and stacks of drums and boxes. I held the handgun ready, and had made ten or more paces before I remembered I’d left the M4 behind. It was too late to retrieve it. I went round the next corner and found the corridor blocked by a second set of doors. These too had been fitted against the threat of fire, and again came with push bars. The glass in the upper portions of the doors was grimy and I couldn’t see through it. But I’d no other recourse than go through, this time at speed: shock and awe. I booted the doors open and continued into the next corridor, having now negotiated three turns and almost come back to where I’d started. Yet here on the left there was an annexe to the building that could not be accessed by way of my initial entry point via the skywalk. The clamour of my entry had caused those inside the annexe to fall silent, but it was fleeting. Voices called to each other and there was a rumble of activity from within the building. More voices joined the babble as those chasing me came across the dazed woman. She didn’t have to tell them which way I’d gone.
No one presented themselves at the doorway into the annexe. They could be setting up an ambush inside, but I doubted it. The woman I’d head-butted had been dressed as a worker, and I guessed that it was some of her workmates I could hear scrambling for cover. I bore no ill will towards them, and had no intention of harming them needlessly, but some of Procrylon’s hired mercs could be hiding among them, ready to drop me if I went in. Yet I had to. I pulled the second liberated pistol from my waistband and used it to press open the door. The other gun led the way inside, and I crouched behind it, offering the smallest target possible. No gunfire met me and I moved on, placing myself behind a work counter. From the back right corner of the room came a bleat of alarm.
‘I’m armed and will shoot if you try to stop me,’ I called. ‘Come out with your hands up and I’ll allow you to leave.’
‘Don’t shoot,’ a male voice answered.
‘How many of you are there?’
‘There are three of us. Don’t shoot. We’re no threat to you.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. Come out, hands in the air.’
Frightened whispers echoed through the room. Outside, the slap of boots announced the arrival of my hunters at the fire doors.
‘Now! I’m not going to ask again.’
Through the dimness I caught movement. Three indistinct figures rose up from behind a row of desks. Their hands sought the ceiling.
‘Get over here,’ I commanded.
I covered their approach with one gun; the other was aimed back at the door through which I’d entered.
‘You said you’d let us go,’ the elected spokesman pointed out.
‘You’re going to help me first. Get a hold of this counter.’
I arranged the trio of workers – two men and a woman – alongside the counter, then made them shove it up against the door. It was a flimsy barricade and wouldn’t hold my pursuers for long, but the difference between no time and a few seconds could mean a lot for my continued existence.
‘OK. Now. Go ahead of me. Lead the way to that door.’
‘You said you’d let us go,’ the spokesman said again, stuck on a loop of hope and fear.
‘I will. But you must do as I say first. Now get moving.’
The talker was middle-aged. Squat build. Comb-over. Not your average hero image. But he was brave, and not to be underestimated. I made him usher his friends to the door at the far end, keeping my gun close to his spine should he decide to exercise some of that backbone.
He was brave, but he wasn’t stupid. He had nothing to gain in trying to take me on, and to be honest I was glad that he didn’t. I felt no animosity towards him or his co-workers; they were simply taking a wage and likely had no idea what those at the top of the company were involved in. Most likely they regarded me as a nutcase who’d invaded their workplace. The bad guy. I showed them they had the wrong impression of me as soon as we were through the next door.
‘Are the offices that way?’ I asked, aiming my gun along a narrow corridor that ended at a set of stairs.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘They’re spread over two different floors above.’
‘Good. You guys go that way.’ I aimed down a second passage to our left. At the end a doleful gleam of red showed a heavy fire exit door that – by my reckoning – must lead outside. ‘Get clear of here. There’s going to be more fighting and I’d hate for any of you to get caught in the crossfire.’
Behind us the banging started as my pursuers tried to force a way into the workroom. The counter might not be the heaviest object, but it was causing problems. A few sturdy shoulders against the doors would soon have it pushed aside, though.
The second man and the woman had both moved gratefully for the exit, but the spokesman paused. He looked me over. Came to some kind of decision. ‘You’re not a cop,’ he said.
‘I’m not a criminal either.’
‘You’re looking for that woman, aren’t you?’
His question surprised me.
‘What do you know about her?’
‘Nothing much. But I saw some of the security team leading a woman upstairs earlier. By the look of things she wasn’t too keen on going up there. I was coming back from the restrooms and almost bumped into them. When the woman tried to say something one of the security men warned her to keep her mouth shut. Then he warned me to get back to work . . . asshole! I knew I should have said something.’
‘Not much you could have said or done. Now, go on. Get out of here. And, hey!’
The man, who had started for the exit, turned and looked back.
‘Thanks,’ I said.
He lifted his eyebrows in reply, but that was all. Then he moved away. I heard him telling his friends to keep quiet and to close the door tightly behind them. Pressed by the security team, he’d tell them where I was, but I trusted him not to run directly to them. By the sound of things he had no love for Procrylon’s PMC goons.
I headed for the stairs. Every step I took was placing me deeper in trouble. Once those chasing me followed upstairs the exits from the building would be closed down. It was nuts continuing like this; with no apparent escape route saving Billie might prove momentary at best. I couldn’t back down now, though. I had to continue on and damn the consequences of my rash decision not to wait for Cooper’s tactical team.
A one-man assault on such a heavily guarded facility was doomed to failure. Though, of course, that was what I hoped my enemies had decided. I was more optimistic. If I kept moving, hitting resistance hard and fast, then the situation would be more a series of small skirmishes. The odds of me winning every one of them was narrow, but better than if I stood my ground and went for a pitched battle against dozens of mercs.
The heat of battle was on me. I was up for the challenge. Something that could very well mean my violent death was the very thing that made me feel so
alive
.
The fact that I half-expected the Jaegers to be standing guard over Billie added speed to my legs too. I wanted my day with those sons of bitches. Twice already – if I counted the guy I’d fought on the mountain road – they’d attempted to kill me. Twice they’d failed. If I had my way, three times absolutely would not be the charm.
36
‘This is no HRT assault, from the reports coming in it’s only one goddamn man!’ Daniel Jaeger sounded as if he was filled with mixed emotions. Partly he was relieved that his mistake over forgetting to cancel the beacon in Billie’s vest hadn’t led to this attack, but he was also maddened to hear that one man was responsible for taking down a quarter of their team already. Another part of him was excited at the prospect of engaging with such a worthy opponent, while yet another was annoyed: he suspected that the man had to be Joe Hunter, the person who’d been with Billie when she was taken, and the man Daniel was supposed to have finished off. Who else could it be?
‘Get her out of here, Danny. I’ve called in the chopper, but if it hasn’t come by the time you reach the helipad, take one of the vans.’
Daniel squinted at his older brother. ‘You want me to play babysitter when there’s an enemy to be killed?’
‘I want you to do as I’ve ordered, soldier.’
Erick stared at his younger sibling, acting not as his big brother but as his commanding officer.
‘This is bullshit, Erick. Any of the other guys can take the bitch out of here.’
‘I don’t want any of the others to do it, I want you to.’
‘I’m better than any of those punks,’ Daniel argued. ‘You need me here. That dude is going through our team like a dose of salts, man!’
‘That’s exactly why I need you on Billie Womack. I need someone reliable. Now go. And don’t make me repeat myself again.’ Erick racked the slide on his automatic pistol. It wasn’t a warning to his brother, but the clack was ominous enough to shut Daniel’s mouth, cutting off his next retort.
Billie had listened to their interaction with mixed emotions. She was sore and frightened, and fearful for her life, but also overjoyed to hear that Joe had survived and had come looking for her. That was the type of man that Richard should have been: loyal. She knew that the chances of one man beating the insurmountable odds against him were slim, but she was also hopeful. There was something about Hunter that told her he could be relied on. Hell, he’d already put his life before hers, and she was sure he would do it again. When she’d watched him in her home that time while preparing a meal for him, it was with keener attention than mere curiosity or even attraction; she’d been weighing and evaluating him, and even then had recognised him as the kind of man she should have married. They were alike: they had a take-no-crap attitude, and were willing to fight and kill where necessary. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told him she would willingly smash in Richard’s brains given the opportunity, and after watching Joe break that big brute’s neck with barely any effort, she knew Joe was capable of such uncompromising action too. In the forest, if he’d followed his natural instincts, he would have stopped these bastards before they’d got their hands on her, but back then Joe had been constrained by rules applied to him by the ATF agent, Cooper. She doubted he was hampered by rules now, judging by Daniel’s proclamation, and was coming for her like a force of nature that could not be stopped.
Yet he was only one man.
He faced impossible odds, and even if he did fight his way through, what good would it serve if she had already been whisked away on a helicopter or in the back of a van? It was time to show these mercenaries, and that whore, Amanda, that they had made a huge mistake when thinking they could treat her like a simpering girl they could beat into submission. She had to buy some time for Joe to reach her.
Daniel kicked her in the thigh. ‘Get up.’
Billie was still seated on her butt, except she’d been backed into one corner of the room. She’d been dragged there after being kicked into unconsciousness by Erick minutes ago, and propped up so that she didn’t choke on the blood in her mouth. Neither man realised yet that she was awake, or that she was ready for them.
‘Get up, bitch.’ Daniel toed her again.
‘Goddammit, Danny, just pick her up and drag her ass out of here.’ Erick moved away, heading for the door. ‘I’m going to make sure Sheehan gets out safely. Things are bad enough without her getting herself killed.’
‘Couldn’t happen to a better woman,’ Daniel growled. ‘Except maybe for this bitch here.’
Whether or not Erick was in agreement wasn’t forthcoming because he left the room in a hurry. Billie hadn’t heard Amanda go, but she thought that the sadistic whore had probably fled to find a mirror to check her injuries. Hell, it’d take more than scratches and bite marks to spoil that granite-faced visage. Billie felt like laughing at the image that flashed across her mind, one where Amanda leaned into a mirror moaning in self-loathing at how her cold beauty had been scarred. She held back the laughter, though, concentrating instead on playing possum, while at the same time moving something around in her hand for optimum positioning.