Dead Six (22 page)

“
Hurry up,
” Carl said. “
I’m getting nervous.
”

“I know,” I answered, already heading for the exit, knowing with dread certainty that the box had probably been taken from the upstairs safe by the shooters. I made sure the DVD was still in place. Those shooters had my box, and I had to get it back, no matter what.

“
Lorenzo, you better hurry.
”

“What?”

“
Two cars full of bad guys pulling into the compound. Run!
”

I ran downstairs and crouched near the rear exit. The door was open, and the arriving headlights illuminated the back wall of the compound. The cars pulled to a stop and doors opened. Someone began to sing, drunken and off key. Adar must have been planning a homecoming party, and more guests had just arrived.

Not wanting to find out what kind of people a terrorist invited to a torture party, I tried to think of a way out, s
omething, anything
. If I made it to the back wall, I would surely be spotted before I could scale it. I could try to Rambo my way out, but from the noises coming from the yard, there were several bad guys.

“Carl, how many we got?”

“
Couldn’t tell. It was too dark when they pulled in. Want me to come in shooting?
”

“Hold on that. I’ve got an idea.” I moved quickly back into the home. The doorbell rang, long and raspy, and someone on the other side laughed. I had seen the fuse box in my search. The bell continued, the user obviously becoming frustrated. I pulled my pack off, removed my night-vision monocular, and strapped it onto my head. In another pouch was a small Semtex charge, and I squished it against the circuit breakers.

The ringing quit, and loud knocking started. The laughter was gone, and now voices called out with some concern. The radio initiator blinked green in my hand, we had contact. The charge would only kill the lights in the house, but hopefully this would be enough of an edge. I moved back toward the side entrance.

Now they were pounding on the front door. I pulled a frag from one of the MOLLE pouches on my armor and, staying low so as to not blot out the light coming through the peep hole, slid up to the door. I pulled the pin but carefully kept the spoon down until it was wedged tightly against the door’s base plate. The grenade had a five-second fuse, and it would be one heck of a surprise for our party guests. It’s those little touches that show you care.

Back toward the side door now. The pounding turned to kicking. I kept moving, wanting to get some space between me and that frag. The side door was in view, the rear wall of the compound visible through the portal, still illuminated in the headlights. A shadow moved on the back porch: a man with a gun. They were coming. I flipped down the monocular, and the view for one eye turned a pixilated green.

“Adar!” one of the men on the back porch shouted. The front door cracked and splintered on its hinges.

“Hide-and-seek time.” I took a deep breath and mashed the initiator.

There was a
bang
as the house plunged into darkness. My world was now a super illuminated green. I raised the AR to my shoulder, realized that I had not turned down the Aimpoint for night vision use as the dot appeared blindingly fuzzy, cursed under my breath, turned the knob to dial it down, and moved my hand back to the grip. Behind me the front door crashed open.

Five.

A man in a suit and headdress moved through the rear entrance into my sight, blinking stupidly, pistol held before him like a talisman to ward off evil.

Four.

I flipped the selector to semi and pulled the trigger twice, the dot of the Aimpoint barely moving as it bounced across his torso. The suppressor was deadly silent, but each bullet still made a very audible
chuff
noise as it violated the speed of sound.

Three.

I moved forward, sidestepping, gun still at the ready, slicing the pie, more of the back porch swinging into view. The first man was falling, a second man was behind him, looking surprised in my pixilated world, lifting his Tokarev sideways, gangster style. The dot sight covered his face.
Chuff
.

Two.

There was movement behind me, the rest of Adar’s guests piling into the entryway, surprised by the darkness. A few random gunshots rang out as they attacked the shadows.

One.

The concussion of the grenade was sharp inside the structure. Even with a few walls between us I could feel the impact in my eyeballs. Gliding over the bodies of the men that I had just shot, I took the corner slowly, watching for movement. Somebody started screaming.

There were two figures standing in front of the fancy fountain, easy targets. The carbine met my shoulder, but I stopped. Only one of the targets was a man, the other was female. The man had a subgun in one hand, and a rope leading to the bound wrists of the young woman. Her head was hung down, hair covering her face. He was staring, slack jawed, at the smoking front door of Adar’s home and his dying and injured companions.

Having seen that poor girl upstairs, I just reacted. I flipped the selector to full auto. The man never knew what hit him as I stitched him from groin to neck in one burst. The bullets were tiny, but they were
fast
, and at this range they fragmented violently, ripping through flesh and leaving softball-sized exit wounds. He stumbled back, falling into the fountain with a crimson splash, jerking the rope and sending the girl sprawling. I dropped the mag and reloaded as I scanned for threats, trying to break the tunnel vision.
Clear.

Instead of heading for the back wall, I sprinted toward the captive. She appeared to be in a state of shock, probably a young Filipina worker. I’m a killer, and a thief, and a con man, and a hired gun, but I was not a monster, and in Zubara, girls like this were treated like slaves or worse.

“Come with me,” I said in Arabic, helping the girl to her feet, then quickly switching to Tagalog. “Come with me now or these men will kill you.” She looked at me, stunned or bewildered, probably drugged and incoherent.

“
Lorenzo, what’s happening?
” Carl’s voice was tense.

“Pick me up at the front gate,” I replied tersely. “We need to go, lady.” I gestured with my gun in the direction to move. “Now!”

“You’re an American!” she shouted in English. “Oh, thank God!”

“Uh . . .”
That was unexpected
. “Yes! I’m here to rescue you . . . or something. Let’s go.”

The van barely slowed as I shoved the still-bound girl into the back and climbed in after her. The incendiary bomb detonated with a brilliant flash that crackled from every window. I slammed the door as Adar’s burning compound shrank in the distance.

VALENTINE

Fort Saradia National Historical Site

April 16

0400

Alone in my room, I sat on the floor, my back to the wall. I was still wearing my cammies. My body armor was lying on the floor next to me. The door to the balcony was open; a cool breeze drifted into the room.

On the floor next to me was Adar’s strange little box. I’d given it a half-hearted examination; it was some kind of puzzle box, made of wood, ornately carved. It looked very old. I tried for a minute to open it but quickly gave up.

I don’t know how long I’d been sitting there when I heard someone knocking on my door. I didn’t answer it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. After a few moments, the knocking stopped, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Our trip back from Adar’s compound had been long, but I barely remembered it. We’d been debriefed by Gordon as soon as we’d returned to the compound. He, of course, had been overjoyed, especially at the intelligence we’d gathered. Tailor neglected to mention the fifty thousand dollars he’d stuffed into his backpack. I’d forgotten to turn over the puzzle box.

I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see that dead girl hanging from Adar’s ceiling. I wondered what her name had been, where she’d come from, how she’d ended up there. It reminded me so much of what happened to my mom, it
hurt.
My stomach was still twisted into knots, hours later.

I took another swig from the large plastic bottle in my hand. I’d managed to bum some booze from one of the other guys. I didn’t know what in the hell it was. It tasted terrible, but it was alcohol, and it was potent. It’d
do
. As I took another drink, my bathroom door suddenly opened. Sarah walked into my room.

“Hey,” I said, not looking up at her.

“Mike? Are you okay?” she asked, standing over me.

I raised my eyes up to hers. “Not really,” I said. I took another sip.

“What happened?” she asked, sitting on the floor next to me. She saw the bottle in my hand. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes, I am!” I said, loudly slurring my speech and saluting her with the bottle. Sarah grabbed it out of my hand. “Hey!” I protested, but she ignored me. She lifted it to her nose and made a face when she sniffed it.

“What is this stuff?”

“I was drinking that,” I said testily.

“I think you’ve had enough, Mike,” she said firmly.

“Just leave me alone, okay?” I snatched the bottle back from her.

“Mike, please, just tell me what happened. I’m here for you.
Talk
to me.”

“No, goddamn it, I don’t want to
talk
about it!” I snapped. “I just want some peace and quiet! You think all because you screwed me it gives you the right to march in here whenever the hell you want?”

Sarah huffed loudly and quickly stood up. “Look, I read the report, okay? I know what you found in there.”

I let out an obnoxious drunken snort. “Oh, do you? So you know that he cut her open, cut out her organs, and put them on his shelf like bowling trophies?”

“Oh my God,” Sarah said. We’d kind of left that part out of our report.

“So don’t barge in here and tell me I can’t have a goddamned drink!”

“I’m just trying to
help
you.”

“I don’t need your help!” I shouted, slamming the plastic bottle down on the concrete floor. “You’re not my damned mother! She’s been dead since I was a kid. You know what? I get by just fine.”

Sarah’s expression softened a little. “How did she die?”

“She was murdered. I came home one day and found her cut to pieces, just like that girl. My dad’s dead too. So are half my friends. You know what? I don’t
care
. I
kill people
for money. Shooting people is my
job
. I can handle it. I always handle it. I don’t need your help. I don’t need your pity. And I don’t need
you.
So just march your little ass the hell out of here and leave me alone!”

Sarah’s eyes flashed with anger. “I don’t need this. Go ahead, drink it all! Drink yourself to death if you want. I hope you choke on it!” She turned on a heel and stormed out of my room, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

A pulse of anger surged through me. I picked up the ancient puzzle box and threw it against the door as hard as I could. It crunched loudly as it hit, and fell to the floor, broken. I stared at the bathroom door, breathing heavily. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted Sarah to come back. I wanted another drink. I didn’t want to drink anymore.

A sickening pit formed in my stomach as I realized what I’d done.
Good job, Ace,
I thought.
You managed to drive her away, too.

“Shut up,” I said aloud.
It’s not my fault. I had a bad night.
There was comfort in self-pity. I lifted the plastic bottle to my lips and began to gulp down the rest of the pungent mystery alcohol. It burned on the way down, and I thought I was going to throw up. I let the empty bottle clatter to the floor.

I slumped back against the wall and closed my eyes. The room was spinning, and it wouldn’t stop. My thoughts became even more sluggish than they were before, and it was difficult to concentrate on anything. I had a hard time remembering what I was so upset about. I drifted off to sleep.

LORENZO

The van slalomed around the corner as we headed back toward town. I bounced painfully against the wall. The girl I had rescued was sitting next to me, head flopped back on the seat, totally out. Apparently she’d been drugged by the bad guys.

“Easy, Carl, don’t get us killed.”

“Don’t you tell me easy! Plan, Lorenzo, we had a plan. Who the hell is this broad?” He swung us around a truck full of sheep, and when I say full of sheep, I mean that literally, like it was piled full with legs sticking out the top. “She was not part of the plan. I would have remembered that.”

“They were going to torture her. I couldn’t just leave her. She sounded like an American before she passed out. We can just drop her at the embassy gates and take off.”

“Is that what you think now?” He gestured out the window at the Zubaran police vehicles streaking in the direction we had come from. “Cops crawling everywhere. And you forgot, because of the mobs of angry assholes, they evacuated the embassy.”

To accentuate his point, I saw a man on the sidewalk getting the hell kicked out of him by some of the Zubaran secret police. “Okay, our place is closer. Get us off the streets.” The whole city had gone nuts.

“I’m not taking her to our place. With what we’re working on, nobody can see that.”

“Do it, Carl.” I ordered. My crew was loyal, and I seldom had to pull rank, but this was
my
crew, and it wasn’t a democracy. The driver swore, his beady eyes glaring at me in the rearview mirror. We reached the compound in minutes. We entered through the attached garage so no one would see us carry the girl in.

Reaper met us at the door. He had a Glock shoved in the front of his pants. “What happened out there? Police bands are screaming about some massacre. Did you get the box? Hey . . . who’s the babe?”

“Lorenzo decided he’s Batman, sneaking around at night and rescuing people,” Carl spat. I ignored him and carried the girl up the stairs and into the apartment. I laid her gently on the couch. She was still out.

“Where’s the box?” Reaper asked.

“Somebody beat us to it and whacked Adar.” I put the DVD in his hand. “The shooters are hopefully on this, and we need to figure out who they are. We need that damn box.”