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GUARDIANS: Mission To Rescue Innocence (Beauty 0f Life Book 7)

Page 36

by Laura Acton


  “Hurts like a motherfucker.” He gritted his teeth and moaned when Winds tightened the makeshift dressing trying to stem the bleeding.

  “Sorry, buddy.” Winds placed a hand on Ripsaw’s shoulder, and he said, “Patch, you listening?”

  A slightly winded voice answered, “Yeah. Sitrep on Ripsaw.” Almost to the clinic, Patch stopped in a covered entryway, signaling Mike to hold. He heard everything and knew Ripsaw had been hit but refrained from breaking in and distracting them, knowing they would contact him with an update as soon as they found a semi-secure position.

  “Ripsaw’s been shot in the calf, and he said he thinks the slug hit his bone. Bleeding is somewhat under control. He’s in considerable pain.”

  “Is there an exit wound?”

  “Didn’t have time to check.”

  “Check now.” Patch raked his hand over his forehead wiping away perspiration.

  Winds untied the shirt and probed the back of Ripsaw’s calf then secured the cloth again snuggly. “No exit. The bullet is still inside.”

  “When you exfil, Blondie and Ripsaw need to be in the same van.” Patch began adding to his list. He had no desire to dig out a bullet, but he couldn’t leave the damned thing in for fear of sepsis or lead poisoning. Though, he wouldn’t be able to remove it until they reached the plane. The jostling in a moving vehicle could cause more problems.

  “Roger.” Winds returned his gaze to Ripsaw. “Patch will fix you up soon.” He sat back on his heels and checked his ammo. Fuck, almost out.

  As Winds spoke to Patch, Mason set the girls down on the couch and turned to check on Blondie. He saw Blondie close the secret door and lean heavily against the wall, clutching his stomach. Blondie’s t-shirt and hair were drenched in sweat and his brow furrowed in pain. “Blondie, you still with us?”

  Dan opened his eyes and looked at Mason. He read the concern etched on his face. He also spotted the blood smeared on Mason’s sleeve. He pointed to Mason’s right side. “Yeah. Are you hit or is that blood from Dom’s girls?”

  “Grazed, minor,” Mason said as he knelt to examine Dom’s daughters, kicking himself for not doing so already. Even sick as a dog, Blondie is thinking of others first. Relieved to find no injuries, he took their pulses. “No visible injuries and pulse rates for both girls are the same as before.”

  “Respiration?” Patch asked over the headset, monitoring the guys as he and Mike approached the clinic.

  Mason counted. “Nicolette’s is now sixteen, and Anna-Marie’s is twenty.”

  Patch breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally, good news. They are squarely in the normal range now. It doesn’t appear the smoke caused them any breathing issues. Are they still fully sedated or showing signs of waking?”

  “Sound asleep,” Mason relayed as he studied the sweet girl’s faces. Nicolette’s features reminded him a little of his younger sister Cala. She was fourteen, only a year older than Nicolette when he decided to join Special Forces. He missed Cala and his two older sisters terribly and wished he could spend more time with his entire family.

  “Glad they’re asleep. They won’t be traumatized by this,” Dan mused aloud. Everyone agreed with Blondie. These girls had been through an ordeal, and it was a blessing they would be spared from witnessing all the killing.

  Winds gazed at the sleeping girls, his heart softening as he said, “I hope they remain sedated until they’re safely on the plane, in their father’s arms, and heading home.”

  Gripped by lancing pain, Dan softly moaned, wishing he was sedated too. He flexed his fingers attempting to stop the pins and needles tingling. Just a little longer, you can hold it together until they are free. Suck it up, Broderick. You aren’t weak. Dan forced his body to comply and to stand straighter.

  He paced trying to shake the weird sensation in his legs. To distract himself, Dan checked the rifle’s magazine. Not much left. “Anyone got ammo to spare?”

  Responding to Blondie’s inquiry as he returned, Blaze handed him a pistol “Three rounds left in this one.”

  “Thanks. I’ll make ‘em count.” Dan stowed the handgun in his waistband.

  Blaze grinned and patted Blondie’s back. “You always do.” Resuming his solemn demeanor, Blaze said, “We’re almost out of this shithole. Things are a chaotic mess out there. We go across fast and silent. I’ll clear our path to the stairs. Then like we did with the kids one at a time across the expanse. Blondie, there are rooms at both ends of the hall with armed lookouts. You cover left, and I’ll take right as Winds and Mason cross.”

  “Blaze, Galahad and I are switching to channel three,” Patch reported.

  “Lioness, monitor Patch’s channel. Thumper, stay with us,” Blaze ordered.

  “Roger,” they all responded.

  Winds lifted Ripsaw while Mason scooped up the little ones and the group moved into the other room.

  Grasshopper Becomes the Master

  37

  May 29

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Panin’s Outer Office

  Winds grinned when he entered the outer room of Panin’s office. “Supply depot. Blondie, grab their weapons, we’re all a little low on ammo.”

  “There is a reason you’re my second in command,” Blaze replied realizing he should’ve thought to grab the weaponry from the six dead men.

  “Gotta earn my keep somehow,” Winds quipped as he eyed Blaze. He comprehended Blaze’s minor distraction. Hell, they were all rattled a bit by this damned mission. He and Blaze were the only unencumbered ones with Blondie poisoned, Ripsaw shot, and Mason carrying two girls. A successful exfil from this dangerous place remained feasible, but uncertain.

  Gathering up four handguns, a Bizon, and a PP-91 KEDR, Dan distributed them to the guys. For himself, he swapped out submachine guns for a fully loaded PP-91 with thirty rounds in the magazine. Giving Ripsaw his partially loaded one, he said, “Ten rounds left in this one.”

  “Thanks.” Ripsaw gripped the Veresk in one hand and a pistol in the other.

  Blaze noted the weapons Blondie handed out, and when he tried to give him the Bizon 9mm, he shook his head. “You take that one. It holds sixty-four rounds. Give me the PP-91 since I’ll be using it as back up for my Veresk.” He slung the weapon over his shoulder as Blondie complied. Satisfied his men were now well-armed again, he moved to the door and opened it as he squatted to check the hallway.

  After timing the guard’s movements, waiting until both directions cleared, Blaze sprinted across the span. Flattening himself against the wall, he cautiously opened the stairwell door and investigated the interior. Only the dead guards from before were there. Once situated in the doorway, Blaze signaled Winds he was in place and ready for him to cross.

  Dan assumed a crouching position at the office doorjamb and scanned to the left. The corridor opened up to a larger room, and from his vantage point, he noted numerous people milling around. Some appeared to be patrons, many were scantily dressed women, and he counted nine of Panin’s security force. One he recognized from the vetting room. Panin had called him Vadim.

  Loud arguing floated to his ear as two men in business suits yelled at Vadim that they wished to leave. Dan listened to Vadim’s response before he whispered, “Heads up. Our departure from upstairs has been communicated. Savelievich’s men are holding those people in the room, and others are searching for us with orders to capture us alive for Panin.”

  “I should’ve killed the bastard,” Mason muttered.

  As Winds was about to cross carrying Ripsaw, Dan grabbed his leg and said in a hushed tone, “Wait.” When Winds glanced down, he pointed two fingers at his eyes then down the hall.

  Winds’ eyes followed the keen gaze of their sniper and blew out a relieved breath for his skill. Blondie showed him two patrollers stopping in the entry to light cigarettes as they cast eyes in their direction. Shifting Ripsaw’s weight, Winds waited as the sentries leisurely puffed on their smokes for several minutes before moving on. Once they cleared out, he rechecke
d the other direction then darted across the hallway and to the open stairwell door.

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Back Stairway

  A breath Blaze held, released gradually as Winds and Ripsaw barely cleared the portal before three sentries passed in the direction he guarded. His part of the corridor also opened to a vast room. Like the other, many people appeared to be being held there against their will. Sadly, Blaze understood they could do nothing about their predicament. Their priority remained the rescue of Savoy’s children. The rest of these folks would, unfortunately, need to fend for themselves.

  Blaze glanced back and noted Mason at the door with the sedated girls in his arms. Their gentle giant, or fierce Highland warrior depending on the situation, checked both ways. With long strides, Mason traversed the expanse in short order.

  Mason gave a slight nod to Winds who assumed point, covering the stairwell. “Happy we don’t have to worry about up and down,” Mason commented when he realized this access point only went between the first and second floors. He shifted to the far corner which provided better protection for the girls.

  “Now you, Blondie,” Blaze murmured.

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Panin’s Outer Office

  “Roger.” Dan scanned both directions and waited as several guards passed in both anterooms. An intense burning hit his gut again, and he doubled over and groaned. A wave of nausea overtook him.

  Dan ducked back into the outer office to hurl, hoping not to give away their position to the roaming guards. He shook as he puked up a small amount of bile reminiscent of his time in captivity. His misery grew as he continued to heave even though nothing more came up.

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Back Stairway

  Concerned hearing Blondie retching, Ripsaw urged, “Someone needs to go help Blondie. He’s getting sicker.”

  Winds and Mason shared worried expressions. Both felt the same as Ripsaw and turned to Blaze.

  “I’ll go,” Blaze responded.

  Finished heaving, Dan wiped his shaky hand across his mouth. He growled in a voice reflecting pain and anger, “No! I’m coming. I can do this under my own power. I don’t need to be coddled.”

  Blaze stared at the office door anticipating Blondie’s reappearance. He understood the underlying need regardless of the pain the kid was in. Blondie must complete this mission to restore his confidence, to regain the sense of being in control … to rebuild the self-worth and masculinity the bastards had cruelly stripped from him with their brutal torture.

  This battle waged in Blondie’s mind and would only be won by him. Though they recognized he was worthy and capable, Blondie needed to believe in himself again. Making eye contact, Blaze said, “Okay. I believe you can.”

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Hallway

  Dan scanned left and right again waiting for sentries to leave the entryways. Their timing out of synch, one side became passable as the other became restricted. Frustrated and his symptoms worsening by the minute, Dan prepared to run once both sides cleared.

  Guards on the left moved, he flicked his eyes to the right, clear. He scarcely stepped into the hall when Winds alerted them to targets blocking their exit. He must move now.

  As bombardment erupted in the stairwell, Dan bolted into the corridor knowing they would need help to protect the girls because the gunfire would inevitably draw the goons from both rooms. Halfway there, bullets began flying around him from behind. Dan stopped and pivoted to fire at the three guards who appeared behind him. The Bizon jammed. “Shit!”

  Vadim couldn’t believe his luck when the new buyer appeared. Orders from the fifth-floor were to take him alive and detain him until Panin arrived. He received no further directions but assumed he would be rewarded well for capturing him. In Russian, Vadim yelled, “Not so fast, Maks.”

  The shout and continuous gunshots from the stairway attracted five guards from the right room and six more from the left. They all move towards Maks as Vadim announced loudly, “Panin wants Maks alive.”

  Several guards sniggered, and one said, “The boss is probably going to sell him to the highest bidder.”

  Trapped in the middle of fourteen guards, Dan chided himself for not taking one of the loaded handguns in addition to the submachine gun. He grabbed the pistol Blaze gave him, firing at the nine in front of him. The men scurried like roaches for protection behind potted trees. Dan exterminated three before his gun emptied.

  With no ammo left, Dan turned to run as burning pain with the intensity of a cannonball struck his gut doubling him over and dropping him to his knees. Through a haze of ungodly pain, Blaze’s voice ordered him to move his ass. He wanted to comply, but pain blurred his mind and incapacitated him.

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Back Stairway

  As the first-floor door burst open, seven men rushed in and halted seeing black-clad men at the top of the steps. The leading man grinned and raised his Heckler & Koch USP, a semi-automatic pistol. This will be like shooting fish in a barrel. The grin melted away when an armor-piercing round went straight through his helmet, and his lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

  “Shit! We got company. Seven targets,” Winds barked as he killed the first man entering below. These guards were dressed in body armor with helmets and carried bulletproof shields. Nothing in their recon suggested Panin’s men were armed like a small army. The responding hail of bullets caused him to toss Ripsaw into the far corner near Mason and dive for cover.

  A grunt escaped Ripsaw as Winds abruptly dumped him. He understood why … to protect him. He crawled forward and aimed at red-shirted devils. He took out one, but like a Hydra one became two as more of Panin’s army appeared. Their estimates on the number of men and armament had been woefully wrong … undercounted an utter understatement.

  Mason dropped Nicolette and Anna-Marie as carefully as possible into the corner and placed himself in front of them. They would have bruises to be sure, but a contusion was preferable to a hole. He returned fire, but from his position, he had little effect other than making it risky for any guard to attempt climbing the stairs.

  Crouching in the doorway, Blaze witnessed Blondie run into the hall after Winds shouted. A flash of guilt hit him when the Bizon jammed. Goddammit! I made him switch with me. Fuckity fuck! The kid needed help, and so did Winds. The shit just hit the fan.

  As five targets approached Blondie from the right, he mowed them down. He turned to find the kid took out three. More guilt surged through him. I should’ve ensured Blondie had more ammo.

  When Blondie crashed to the floor, Blaze aimed and dispatched two more to hell as four took cover. Viewing sheer agony in Blondie’s features, Blaze used his commanding voice, hoping to cut through the kid’s pain. “On your feet now! Move your ass! That’s a direct order!”

  “Shit they’re multiplying. Where the hell are they all coming from? Blaze, I need a hand,” Winds called.

  Conflicted and hating to leave Blondie on his own, his eyes sought Blondie’s. He was failing the kid again.

  Pain eased slightly, and Dan overheard Winds. Lifting his head, he connected with Blaze’s eyes. His voice raspy, Dan said, “Go. Protect the innocent. Priorities. We can’t fail them.”

  Reluctantly, Blaze turned to assist the others fending off the red tide. In his peripheral vision, he glimpsed two moving towards Blondie. Perplexed why they didn’t fire their weapons, he hollered, “Behind you!” As one huge target grabbed Blondie and hauled him up, he added, “Fuck no!”

  “I’m out. Blaze, give me a weapon!” Winds demanded, and he threw the empty gun at one, striking the encroaching man in the temple, disabling him for a moment. He pulled his knife and flung it at another, hitting the jugular vein causing an eruption of blood as the shocked guard yanked the blade out before he fell.

  Blaze unslung the PP-91 KEDR and tossed it to Winds. He aimed and sent two stupid fools moving up the steps to hell. He glanced back out into the hall, and his jaw dropped, stunned, as he witnessed Blo
ndie execute a move he had only seen the kid practice once with Ripsaw. The man who hauled Blondie up ended up flat on his back with a broken neck.

  “Damn, the kid’s got moves.” Pride and worry both filled Blaze as he turned his attention back to the bottom of the stairwell, now populated with active shooters and littered with bodies.

  Winds’ grunt of pain drew Blaze’s attention, and he glimpsed his best friend fall back against the wall with a pained expression. “Winds!”

  Sucking in a couple of ragged breaths before he could answer, Winds glanced at Blaze. “In the vest.” Sighting the miscreant who fired at him, Winds returned the favor, but the man’s armor couldn’t stop their armor-piercing ammunition and he lifelessly tumbled down.

  Cherry Club – Second Floor – Hallway

  Dan gained his feet after dispatching the lowlife who had been in the vetting room. With no weapon available he assumed a ready stance and breathed in deep. Though not impervious to pain, Dan possessed a higher-than-normal threshold. As adrenaline resurged, he applied a mind-over-matter technique which he honed with ample experience—three months of torture and four more of intense rehabilitation—as he strove to box in his agony.

  As the three remaining guards moved towards him, two thoughts ran through his mind. First, he could not allow these bastards anywhere near Nicolette or Anna-Marie. His job was to put his life on the line to rescue innocence. He would willingly do so to save those little girls.

  His second thought revolved around Panin’s desire to take him alive. He refused to be taken captive ever again. He would rather die than be subjected to the vagaries of sick bastards. Once is more than enough.

  Dan focused on the hulking guards as Winds called for Blaze’s secondary weapon. Damn glad I swapped with Blaze. That Bizon is a piece of shit, and they need a working gun. Now close enough to read their identification tags, Dan knew he faced off against Oleg, Stepan, and Rodya. They all wore grins indicating they hankered for hand-to-hand combat, which was his only saving grace given he had no firearm.

 

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