Tiger by the Tail (20 page)

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Authors: John Ringo,Ryan Sear

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Space Opera, #Adventure, #Fiction

BOOK: Tiger by the Tail
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Upon hearing the order to begin the operation, Givi rolled left. The moment he was clear of the vehicle’s underbody, he got to his feet, but stayed bent over, concealed behind the Humvee’s bulk.

Three . . . two . . . one,
he counted in his head, then took a step forward and aimed around the corner at his designated target.

* * *

There was silence for a few seconds after Oleg’s order, then the ripping-cloth-and-metal sound of four silenced pistol shots echoed through the garage. One moment the two bodyguards were walking, the next they had dropped out of sight, taken down by chest shots from less than five meters away. The shooters had positioned themselves and aimed their shots so as not to risk coming close to the Kildar, the woman, or Than. As Oleg watched, each Jayne member emerged from their hiding place, cleared the pistols from the dying men’s hands, and finished each with a shot to the head.

Meanwhile, Mike was working on the big guy. He’d stripped him of his cane and disarmed him when the Samoan had gone for his own pistol, breaking his arm in the process. As the big man clutched his useless limb, Mike toppled him with a heel kick to the knee. The gangster howled in agony as he rolled on the ground, trying to clutch his ruined leg with his remaining hand.

Oleg kept watching from his vantage point as his team members reported in. “Jayne Two, clear.”

“Jayne Three, clear.”

“Jayne Four, clear.”

“Jayne Five, clear.”

The stairwell door opened again. Oleg swept his rifle over to cover it, then lowered his weapon as Jace and Katya emerged from the stairwell. Standing, the big man went to meet them, still keeping an eye out for other tangos or civilians.

Having relieved Sunia of the case, Mike was kneeling on the big man’s chest, holding a silenced pistol to his forehead. Oleg noted with satisfaction that the rest of his team had come out to both cover the remaining tango and ensure that neither Soon Yi nor Arun Than tried to slip away. Hearing a slight squeal of tires, he glanced at the concrete ceiling of the level above, trying to figure out if the vehicle was coming their way. Keeping one ear on it, he turned back to cover the Kildar as he interrogated the wounded man.

“—no time for bullshit or games. You got one chance to tell me what I want to know, or I splatter your brains all over the floor. Who’s the buyer for the control boards?”

Sunia spit his words out through gritted teeth. “I do not know exactly who they are—all I know is that the package is supposed to go to Myanmar! Contact would be made once it arrived!”

“Bullshit! Who’s your goddamn contact?”

“It was set-up—through third parties—for everyone’s protection!”

Mike thumbed back the hammer on the Sig. “Maybe you’ll talk better through another hole in your head—”

Mike’s threats were interrupted by the Vanner cutting in on all frequencies. “All teams, this is Firefly! Armed men driving toward you. ETA fifteen seconds!”

“Grab him, Oleg! This fat fuck’s going to answer my questions!”

Oleg had just slung his rifle and was bending to grab Sunia when the glare of high-beam headlights washed over everybody, accompanied by the squeal of tires. He looked up to see a Toyota 4Runner speeding toward them. Two gunmen popped out outside the passenger window and rear driver’s side window. They began firing long bursts from their stubby submachine guns as they closed. Tongues of orange flame spat from the muzzles as bullets sparking off the concrete all around Mike and his people. Even above the echo of the submachine guns, Oleg heard the squeal of spinning tires, and suddenly smelled burning rubber.

“KILDAR!” Oleg whirled around and lunged for Mike, who was already leaping out of the truck’s path. It was less than ten yards away when the Team Jayne van shot out of its parking space and smashed into the driver’s side front fender. The impact shoved the higher truck into the nearest row of luxury sedans and SUVs. The 4Runner tipped over, sending the gunman on the driver’s side flying into the air. He slammed head first into the concrete roof and fell in a lifeless heap in the middle of the lane.

The van’s passenger door slid open, and Dmitri, Oleg’s second-in-command, shouted, “Come on!” He was still taking fire from the wrecked Toyota, the bullets making popping sounds as they punched through the van’s metal sides. Apparently some of the reinforcements had survived the crash.

Shrugging off his rifle, Oleg ran to the rear corner of the passenger side. He made sure his weapon was ready before ducking his head around the corner to get a glimpse of the shooter. The bloody driver was standing on the wrecked truck, visible from the waist up, firing at the driver side of the van. Oleg aimed and fired a three round burst just as the man saw him and tracked over to shoot. The rounds took the driver in the throat and head, spraying blood on the concrete wall behind him. Triggering his weapon in a useless burst skyward, he fell back, then sagged out of sight.

“Oleg, get inside, we’re unassing right now!” the Kildar ordered.

“Have not collected target yet!” the huge Keldara replied as he scanned for the wounded Samoan, who seemed to have disappeared.

“Belay that and get in here
now
!” Mike said.

The Jayne team leader had just turned to head for the open passenger door when the squeal of tires alerted him to a potential new threat. Oleg turned to see a chopped and lowered bright-green-and-blue Honda coupe accelerate toward him, its lights catching him in their halogen glare as a pistol extended from the driver’s window.

Bringing his rifle up to his shoulder, Oleg braced himself and began putting short bursts through the car’s windshield. His first shots hit left of center, where he figured the driver’s chest would be. He was correct, as the car swerved immediately after he starred the glass. Oleg kept firing, hitting the center right windshield as well, then going back to the left, alternating with each burst. The car jerked again, sideswiping a few more luxury SUVs and sports cars. It finally shuddered to a stop a few yards away from the huge Keldara, its engine dying with a final wheeze. Oleg waited for anyone to dare to come out, but no one moved in the smoking, bullet-ridden car.

He whirled on his prosthesis, ran for the passenger compartment through the hanging clouds of gunsmoke, and climbed inside.

“Where is curly-hair?” Oleg asked as he slammed the door closed.

“Lost him in the fight!” Mike said. “Forget him. Dmitri took a round.”

Only then did Oleg notice that the American, Jace, was behind the wheel. The rest of the team was all crowded into the rear of the van, giving Givi just enough room to examine Dmitri’s red-stained shoulder. Each probe brought no sound of pain from the warrior, although his face was tight, and his gaze stared somewhere far off in the distance.

“It is not good. The bullet missed his vest and broke his shoulder blade. Fragments of both the round and bone are still inside. He will need an operation. But he is in no immediate danger of bleeding out, at least.”

“All right, we’ll get that fixed ASAP.” The Kildar peered through the cracked rear window. “No sign of pursuit. Slow it down a bit, Jace.”

“Dmitri was lucky he only took one round; the outside of this door looks like Swiss-fucking-cheese. That’s gonna raise our profile a bit,” Jace said as he pulled around a turn. “There’s the exit.”

“Don’t stop for the gate—we barely did on the way in,” Oleg advised.

Nodding, Jace began pressing the gas pedal down to ram their way through when a large, blocky black vehicle appeared out of nowhere, cutting off their escape route.

“Hold on!” Slamming on the brakes, Jace threw the van into reverse and looked back, only to curse in frustration. “What do you want to do, Kildar?”

Mike was also looking at the second heavy-duty S.W.A.T. truck that had just rolled out to block their six. Both vehicles were disgorging heavily armored Hong Kong special unit officers armed with automatic rifles. “First, nobody move.” He leaned around Jace to see the same thing happening ahead of them.

In less than twenty seconds, the van was encircled by a ring of lethal-looking cops, all aiming assault rifles at the van. Two of the helmeted, masked officers parted for a short, paunchy Asian in a rumpled, tan, summer-weight suit and a salt-and-pepper crew cut to approach. He walked up to the driver’s door and rapped his knuckles on the cracked window, which shattered into hundreds of fragments at his touch.

Jace smiled at him. “What seems to be the problem, officer?” he asked in flawless Mandarin. He held his pistol with the hammer back below the window, ready to shoot the polite cop in the face if he was had to. Since the only realistic outcome of that was a swift death, he
really
hoped he wouldn’t have to shoot the guy.

The officer’s own smile was tight as he held up his identification card and badge. “My name is Lieutenant Fang Gui, Criminal Intelligence Bureau, Hong Kong Police. I understand that a gentleman named Mr. Mike Jenkins is inside this vehicle, and that he was a witness to a rather unfortunate accident in a lower level of this parking garage. I would like him to accompany me to our station to answer a few questions. He is not under arrest, and will be free to leave the station at any time. However, his cooperation in this matter would be most appreciated.”

“Just a moment, please.” Jace turned and translated the information to Mike, who peered around the seat at the man with a puzzled frown. The Kildar looked back into the cargo compartment of the van. Filled with heavily armed Keldara, a prostitute, and a black marketeer, it stank of blood, sweat and burned powder. Despite what had just gone down, all of them—even Dmitri—looked ready to go if he gave the order.

“Stand down, all of you,” Mike said in Keldara before turning back to the police lieutenant.

“Okay, let’s go.”

CHAPTER TEN

“I do not fucking believe this!”

An hour later, Jace watched in incredulity as Mike was politely shown into an interrogation room. He was followed by the officer who had stopped them in the International Commerce Center’s underground parking facility.

The last sixty minutes had passed as if in a dream. Not only were Jace, Katya, Soon Yi, Arun Than, and the rest of the Keldara not arrested, they weren’t even made to get out of the battered, shot-up van. Instead, Mike was allowed to debark, with Jace and Katya accompanying him, and they were all taken under guard to the May House skyscraper, in the Wan Chai District on Hong Kong Island. There, Jace and Katya cooled their heels in a hallway while Lieutenant Fang was speaking with the Kildar. They had both been perfunctorily searched, and were clean, having left their pistols in the van. The police had missed their camouflaged earpieces, and had even left them their cell phones.

Katya slouched in the hard-backed plastic chair. “So what is the problem? We are not under arrest, correct?”

“Keep your voice down,” Jace muttered out of the side of his mouth as two officers walked past. “That
is
the problem. Nobody is under arrest after a run-and-gun battle, along with at least four premeditated murders, which is what those self-defense takedowns would look like to the HK cops? I haven’t even counted the several charges of assault and battery, not to mention a pair of kidnapping offenses once they talked to Soon Yi and Arun Than. By all rights we should be headed to China Ferry Terminal, and then a short trip to Stanley Prison to await our ‘trial.’ That we’re being treated as actual witnesses, or even guests, means the HK Police have something else in mind for us.”

Jace’s earpiece crackled, then he heard Vanner’s voice. “Team River, this is Firefly, over.”

Jace pulled out his cell phone and leaned over it, elbows on his knees, pretending to be engrossed in something. “This is River One. Before continuing, I cannot guarantee there are not ears on us.”

“Understood, but I wouldn’t worry about it,” Vanner replied. “We are all clear of the op building. The room was sanitized. Your current position is on the eleventh floor of the May House building, correct?”

“Correct. How’s Dmitri?”

“He’s in surgery right now. Thanks for the tip on that doctor, it made that situation a lot easier. Are you getting anything from the pen camera?”

“Shit! In all the excitement, I forgot to check.” Jace thumbed through his screens until he found the picture of the police lieutenant reading some papers. “Got it. I can’t believe they didn’t confiscate it.”

“Do you have sound?”

Jace turned his phone’s volume up, and heard the rustle of the page as the lieutenant turned it. “Yeah.”

“All right, I’m going to try using your phone as a boosting antenna so I can pick up the signal. We’re a couple blocks away, but I can’t get a solid fix on the Kildar’s position. This may drain your piece’s battery faster.”

“Great.” Jace saw activity on the screen and watched as a third person entered the room. “Must be the officer who serves tea and takes notes. Whatever you’re going to do, do it fast—they’re about to start.”

Jace hadn’t finished talking before the lieutenant started with the date. “Lieutenant Fang Gui of the Hong Kong Criminal Intelligence Bureau, speaking with Mr. Michael Jenkins, an American citizen—” Glancing at Mike for confirmation, he continued off the other man’s nod, “—currently living in the country of Georgia. I am taking his statement regarding his witnessing of a traffic accident in the underground carport at the International Commerce Center, One Austin Road West, Kowloon, Hong Kong. Let the record show that Mr. Jenkins is not under arrest at this time, nor is he suspected of any unlawful activity.”

Jace’s brows rose at that.
What game is this guy playing?
“Was he blind? Surely the garage had security cameras?”

“They did, but we circumvented them once we knew where Sunia was going,” Vanner said in his ear. “No sense having everyone watching what was going on down there.”

“Right.” Jace returned his attention to the screen, where Lieutenant Fang was offering Mike a beverage. He chose coffee, while Fang opted for tea, and said something to the lower-ranking officer as he rose to fetch the drinks.

“What was that?” Katya asked, having slid over to watch as well.

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