by Brent Towns
She looked at Brick, who smiled. “You’ll be fine, ma’am.”
Cara sat up. “Give me my damned weapon, and let’s get back into this fight.”
“What do you propose we do?”
“I have no shitting idea.”
Kane and Axe drove through the rundown neighborhood as though the hounds of hell were chasing them. Kane was behind the wheel of the armored Humvee and Axe was standing up in the back, manning the fifty-caliber machine gun. Before they left, Kane had thought about taking one of the remaining SUVs, but they were beyond that, and from the reports coming in from the operations area, the fifty was a good choice.
The Humvee leaped over a hump in the street before Kane jammed on the brakes and turned hard right. In the turret, Axe tried to brace himself, but his ribs found the edge, and he let out a grunt of pain. “You trying to kill me before we get there, Reaper?”
“Just shut up and hang on.”
“Getting there in one piece would be a start, amigo,” Arenas said from the passenger seat. When Kane and Axe were about to leave, they had been approached by Arenas, armored up and ready for war.
Above the buildings rose two palls of smoke. Above that and doing tight circles was the Specter.
“Get me into position, Reaper,” Axe called. “I always wondered what one of these things would do to a plane.”
“Just don’t miss or you’re screwed.”
They motored into the war zone. Kane took a right, then a left, followed by another right.
“Reaper Two, copy?”
“Read you Lima Charlie, Reaper.”
“Sitrep, over.”
“That Specter is—” The transmission stopped.
“Say again, Reaper Two.”
“We’re getting the shit kicked out of us by that damned plane. Over.”
“We’re coming in from the west. Hold tight.”
“We’re doing everything we can to hold on, Reaper.”
The Humvee broke out of an alley into the open area near an intersection. Everything around it was a scene of destruction and devastation. Across the street where the target building had been was a blackened, burning pile of rubble. After that had been destroyed, another three buildings had been hammered as well.
Kane pulled the Humvee close to one of the buildings that still stood to try to keep one side of the vehicle away from the circling AC-130, not that it would count for much. A 105mm shell in the right place, and they were done for anyway.
“Wait until it comes around again and give it everything, Axe,” Kane ordered.
The Specter disappeared behind them, and an explosion rocked the block. Axe said, “What the hell are they shooting at?”
“I don’t know. Reaper Two, are they dialed in on your position?”
“Negative. They’re looking for us.”
“All right, keep your head down.”
The gunship came back around, and as soon as he could get a clear shot, Axe opened fire with the fifty. The weapon’s deep-throated chug-chug echoed around the intersection as small ballistic missiles arced skyward, their path marked by the glow of tracer rounds.
Axe cursed as he watched them all fall behind the plane.
“Amigo, you shoot like shit,” Arenas growled.
“Shut up!” Axe shouted above the noise of the gun.
The Specter opened fire with its rotary cannon and the area around the Humvee was ripped apart, the ground exploding upward. “You’d better get that thing now or we’re all fucked, Axe,” he called.
“I’m trying, damn it.”
“Try harder.”
“There you go, riding my ass again,” Axe growled. His face hardened into granite as he willed the rounds from the heavy machine gun to hit their target. “Blaming me for all the shit you get us into and expecting me to get you out. Axe, do this. Axe, do that. How about you do some of this shit yourself?”
“Have you got it yet?”
“Shut up.”
Huge lumps of masonry fell from the building behind them as round after round from the rotary canon punched into it, making it seemingly explode. Then, faint at first before becoming a dark trail, smoke emerged from one of the AC-130’s engines.
“Take that, asshole!” Axe yelled in frustration as the gun ran dry.
The trail of smoke from the Specter got thicker and darker, then a flash lit the sky and the engine exploded, shearing off the wing and rendering the machine unflyable.
It hung there for a moment before the metal beast crashed to earth in a ball of orange flame and black smoke.
“Reaper Two, give me your position, over.”
Cara told him where they were.
“I’ll be there in a moment. Out.”
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
“We lost the Specter,” Flint said as he put his cell back into his pocket.
Grayson glared at him. “What happened? And why aren’t you looking for the money?”
“It got shot down. And the money can wait. I thought this was more important.”
“Shot down? How?” Her voice was filled with surprise.
“Lucky shot from a fifty-caliber machine gun.”
“What about the team on the ground?”
“As far as we know, they are still holding out and have been joined by reinforcements,” Flint explained.
“What about our men? Have they arrived on-site yet?”
“They should be getting there about now.”
“How many of them?”
“Six.”
“Keep me updated.”
“Do you want to move location?” Flint asked her.
She looked toward the room where Alfredo Costa still sat tied to the chair, dead. “We’ll move to the secondary location.”
“And him?” he asked, indicating the closed door.
“Leave him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Vale de Perigo, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Cara limped over to Kane. She and the others had emerged from a partially destroyed building that was formerly two floors but now had one. She looked around and shook her head. “It looks like Afghanistan.”
Brick had blood on the side of his face, which was covered in a fine powder. The three BOPE operators, including Ronaldo, were battered and bleeding as well. “Where’s Traynor and Troy?” Kane asked.
“They were outside the wire looking for MIAs when the Specter came in. The last I heard was them telling us to get off the rooftop.”
“Are you alright?” Kane asked her, seeing the pain etched in her face.
“Nothing a Caribbean holiday with some hunk pampering me wouldn’t fix,” she grumbled.
“I’ll see if Axe is free.”
“Asshole.”
“I’ve got movement, Reaper,” Axe said from the turret of the Humvee. He pointed the reloaded fifty in the direction of the threat to show them where.
Kane and Cara turned and saw two men stumble out of a rubble-littered alley. They were dirty, and their clothes almost white from stucco dust. Their faces were painted much the same way, but there was no mistaking their identity. The ballistic helmets and weapons they carried gave that away. “Hold fast, Axe,” Cara said. “It’s Traynor and Troy.”
The two operators limped across the open intersection and stopped in front of the others. Cara said, “You both look like crap.”
Traynor shook his head. “That was some intense shit.”
Troy spat blood. Somewhere along the way, he’d been hit in the mouth by something, and his teeth had cut the inside of his lips. “I’m done with you, Reaper. Every time I do something for you, it almost gets me killed.”
“What, can’t handle the excitement?”
He spat blood once more. “I can do without—”
THWAP! Troy grunted and slumped to the street.
“Shooter across the street!” Axe shouted, and the fifty began its familiar rhythm.
“Shit,” Kane snarled and dragged Troy behind the Humvee.
&nbs
p; Cara acted on instinct and muscle memory; she turned and brought up the CSASS. The scope came to her eye as she sought the target. She was guided by the storm of heavy machine-gun fire from Axe. Holes appeared in the wall where the rounds struck, big enough to put a fist through.
Whereas the fifty was a blunt instrument, the sniper system was a surgical weapon, and one shot was all it would take to silence the shooter. Cara squeezed the trigger, and the weapon kicked back into her shoulder with the comfort of an old friend. The projectile reached out and struck the shooter in the head, a red mist spraying the air when the round blew out the back.
It was as though the kill was a signal to unleash hell upon the team. Now that the threat of the Specter was neutralized, Basilio Costa’s soldiers moved in once more, led by Grayson’s men, to take up the fight.
Cara dived behind the Humvee as bullets cut through the air. Meanwhile, above her, Axe had the fifty thumping a familiar tune. She looked across at Kane and Troy. “Is he alright, Reaper?”
“Body armor took the impact.”
Troy winced. “Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I’m good.”
Bullets peppered the Humvee as the team sent more outgoing rounds at their attackers. Even with the Specter gone, things hadn’t improved.
“Reaper!” Axe called. “Shooters moving left to flank. You need to block them before they get in behind us.”
Kane tapped Brick on the shoulder and said, “Come on, sunshine. Work to do.”
The pair broke cover, racing for an alley that would lead them to the rear of the target house or what was left of it. As he went, Kane called the ops center. “Bravo One, copy?”
“Copy, Reaper.”
“I need to know what’s happening on the ground.”
“Wait one.”
Kane and Brick reached the alley. It was littered with debris and rubble, which made their progress slower than they would have liked. Kane stumbled over a lump of masonry and caught himself before he fell. However, the stumble made him vulnerable, and at that moment a shooter chose to appear, weapon raised to fire. He could do nothing to stop it.
Brick though, was alert and fired twice. The killer jerked under each strike and fell to the ground. “Thanks,” Kane growled.
They traversed the alley and reached the end where the shooter had fallen. His face was covered in tattoos, and he had gold chains around his neck. On his forearm was a string of small knives, which Kane thought might indicate his kills.
Brick checked the street and saw that it was empty. Abandoned cars were parked hap-hazard at odd angles, doors open where people had fled them. “This isn’t right,” Brick said.
“What isn’t?”
“These vehicles. When we came into the valley, it was like a ghost town. Everything was deserted.”
“Reaper One. Copy?”
“Copy, Bravo One.”
“We’re seeing a buildup of activity to the southwest behind where the target building used to be.”
Brick looked at Kane. “I guess we know which way they’re coming from.”
“Right down this street.”
“Also, Reaper, I’ve been advised to order you out of the valley, over.”
“Who by?”
“The mayor of Rio.”
“The mayor? Did I hear you right?”
“Roger that. Apparently, he was unaware of our presence and now that he knows, isn’t happy about it.”
“What is the government saying about it?”
“Nothing. They’re incommunicado.”
“Shit,” Kane growled. “You tell me how I’m supposed to get everyone out of here with one vehicle and a damned army on its way.”
“I’m just the messenger, Reaper.”
Brick tapped Kane on the shoulder. “That army you were talking about is already here.”
Kane looked down the street and saw them advancing. A large armed force spread from one side to the other. “Do you still have that UAV up, Bravo One?”
“We’ve been ordered to take it off-station.”
“If you take it off-station, we’re all dead.”
“I’m sorry, Reaper.”
Kane’s anger grew. If they took the Gray Eagle away, his team would be overrun. They needed the Hellfires. “Bravo One, I think your UAV is too heavy and might crash if you don’t lighten the load. I suggest you jettison your payload before it falls into a built-up neighborhood.”
“You could be right, Reaper One. Jettisoning payload. Keep your head down.”
“Reaper One to all call signs. We have incoming ordnance. Make yourselves small.”
When they came, the two explosions rocked the neighborhood to its core. The ground vibrated and shook, and some of the vehicles on the street were caught in the blast. The sudden violence took the fight out of the advancing crowd and left bodies everywhere. Kane and Brick pulled back to the others. Cara met him and asked, “What’s happening?”
“We’ve been ordered out.”
“How? Are they sending something for us?”
Kane shook his head. “Not as far as I know.”
“So, how?”
“We walk.”
Chapter 14
Joint Taskforce Operations, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
“Okay, talk to me,” Thurston said.
“Kane and the others are walking out on foot,” Ferrero said. “We just dropped our last two Hellfire missiles on top of an advancing hostile crowd.”
The general’s head snapped around. “What? How did that happen?”
“Well—”
Thurston turned. “Brooke, what happened?”
Reynolds turned her head from her console. “I’ll be happy to have that conversation, ma’am, just as soon as I land the UAV.”
“It’s a simple question.”
“The crowd was close to the team and could have overrun them. Reaper thought he saw that the UAV was in danger of crashing into a populated neighborhood and suggested that I lose some weight before it crashed.”
“He did, did he?”
“Yes, ma’am. Will there be anything else?”
“No. The rest can wait.” She turned back to Ferrero. “How could you have let this happen? I’ve been on the phone trying to sort this mess out, and now I find out we’ve dropped two hundred pounds of ordnance.”
“Better to do it now and apologize later, Mary. If it hadn’t been done, the team would have been overrun. It was the only option we had to have any chance of keeping them alive.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she snapped.
Behind them, Swift cleared his throat. They both turned, and Thurston glared at him. “What?”
“I thought you might like to know that forty-five minutes ago, Alfredo Costa was found dead in a hotel suite downtown. He’d been tortured.”
“Keep talking.”
“Reports are that a cleaner found him tied to a chair. His testicles had been removed, among other things.”
“Do they have any idea who did it?”
Swift was holding a piece of paper and tapping it on the palm of his opposite hand. “I managed to hack into the hotel’s files and cameras and came up with this.”
He handed what he held to the general. Thurston looked at it, then passed it to Ferrero. He in turn studied it, then looked at the computer tech. “It’s her.”
“It looks like it.”
“We still don’t know who she is.” It was a statement.
“Not yet, but I managed to put names to two more of the shooters who attacked our compound.”
“Who?”
“John Goddard and Robert Slater. One was former SBS, and the other served with the British Sixteen Air Assault Brigade.”
Thurston said, “Is it just me, or is there some kind of pattern here?”
“I’m seeing it,” Ferrero agreed. “Search the British databases and see if you can come up with something, especially the Security Service and Secret Intelligence Service. Reach out to any contacts you have. Someone must
know something.”
“Yes, sir.”
The anger was gone from Thurston when she turned to Ferrero. “What do you suppose she wanted with Alfredo Costa?”
“If it were a straight assassination, I would say someone paid her to do it. Torture was more personal, or—” He paused.
“What?”
“Or she wanted something.”
“I’ll bite. What?”
“What does a drug boss have plenty of?”
“Drugs and money.”
Ferrero nodded. “From what little we know about her I don’t think she’s the drugs type.”
“So, it’s money?”
“I’d say so. We know Costa has, or had, a lot of it. Some in cash-stash locations. It’s just a matter of finding out where they are. To do that—”
“Torture would help,” Thurston finished. “But doing something like that to the biggest drug cartel leader in Brazil took some balls.”
“Unless you have a brother who wants to take over.”
“So he gets her to kill him. But why would he want his brother tortured?”
“I don’t think the orders came from him. I’d say our ghost saw an opportunity and took it.”
The general nodded. “All right, I’ll buy that. But those assholes who attacked our compound. You think they’re linked?”
“It’s a hunch I have. I’m assuming she’s a gun for hire. She comes down here for one job and ends up doing two.”
Thurston nodded. “But which job did she come here for?”
“That is the million-dollar question.”
“We need to find out who that bitch is.”
“You’re not wrong there. In the meantime, we have to work out what to do with Kane and the others.”
“Give me a moment, and I’ll make a call.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Five minutes later, she put in a call to Kane and the others. “Reaper One, copy?”
“Read you Lima Charlie, Bravo.”
“I’ve pulled a couple of strings and managed to get a helo for your extract. What happened to the Humvee?”
“All vehicles were put out of commission, ma’am. Axe is humping the fifty.”