Covert Game

by Christine Feehan

  Rubin and Diego had chosen their respective kills and said so.

  All four men waited.

  It's a go, Ezekiel gave the order.

  Gino moved out of the shadows to walk silently into the street where Zhu's soldier paced away from him. He fell into step behind him, just as Draden, Rubin, and Diego did the same with the prey they stalked. Two more steps and Gino had him, taking him in their classic kill method, driving the knife deep into the base of the neck, severing the spinal column. He kept his hand over the mouth while he caught the gun. Quickly, he dragged the dead weight to the side of the building, pushing him into the darkest corner and wiping his knife on the man's shirt.

  One down, that's three.

  One down here, that's four, Draden said.

  One down, that's five, Rubin reported.

  Down here, so six altogether, Diego added.

  Gino was already on the move, heading to the back of Razor's Edge where the three bored club guards were still lounging. One flipped his cigarette onto the ground, looked furtively around without seeing the four GhostWalkers surrounding them, and pulled out a flask to drink. He was a civilian guard, one the club had hired, and he was probably more interested in whatever perks the club gave him then doing his job. Another guard sniffed cocaine up his nose.

  Gino took the one closest to him, walking right up to him in plain sight, as if to ask a question. He just kept walking, and as he passed the guard, he slit his throat. He never even paused or slowed down. Rubin and Draden did the same with the two other club guards and Diego pulled each body to one side and dropped them in the darkness.

  Club guards dead, going in, Gino reported.

  He yanked open the door and entered the club. The music was pounding and loud, spilling out from various rooms. Screams, moans and laughter could be heard over the music. He glanced back at Rubin and Diego and then at Draden. Draden knew what to expect, but he didn't know about the two brothers from the Appalachian Mountains. He hoped they'd keep it together.

  He walked down a narrow hallway that opened almost immediately to a large common room where a bar curved along one side and tables stretched across the floor, giving ample seating to the patrons. Naked waitresses and waiters, all wearing collars, served the men and women at the tables. Two waitresses dropped to their knees at one of the larger tables after handing out the drinks, to crawl under and open trousers. A waiter was doing something very similar at another table.

  Gino signaled and Diego and Rubin split up, each going up the side of the wall, clinging like two lizards, nearly impossible to see with their blurred images. They would be the eyes in the room. Each of Zhu's men wore a red armband sewn into the sleeve of his shirt, making them easily to identify. Zhu wanted those armbands to strike fear into anyone who crossed them--and they usually did. The men liked to wear them because no one ever opposed them.

  Small table to your left, Gino. Three sitting together. One just got up to go into another room. Rubin gave the report.

  I'll go after the one leaving, Gino said.

  No worries, I've got the two at the table, Draden said.

  Gino fell into step behind the tall man with the red armband. The club was like a giant beehive. All around were rooms, the walls glass so anyone could see in. Many visitors stood and watched as a woman was being whipped, the skin flayed from her back. Two men had their cocks out, stroking excitedly to the sight. Zhu's man stopped to watch, grinning as the woman begged and pleaded for her tormentor to stop.

  Gino took him right there, while the others stood staring, fascinated at the window. He killed Zhu's soldier and dragged him over to a chair where he positioned him with his legs sprawled out before walking in a circle, looking into each of the windows.

  Another down, that's seven. Keeping track of their enemy was a common thing when spread out and they were certain of the numbers. That way, no one would accidentally be left to come back at them.

  The common area was dimly lit so the hexagonal cells could be blazing with bright lights. He simply walked around, looking into each cell, noting the ones that held men with red armbands. There were three. On the fourth cell in, he located Bolan Zhu.

  Eight and nine are down, Draden reported in. I left them sitting at their table, drinks at hand.

  Gino should have known Zhu would draw a large crowd, and he had, the onlookers two feet deep around the window. They smelled of alcohol, drugs, sex and excitement as they regarded the man they'd come to expect a huge show from. He knew it too, and he played to his audience.

  Zhu was angry that Zara had escaped him once more and he was taking it out on the two women and one man he had chained and hanging from the ceiling. The two women were bound in extremely painful positions, their bodies contorted, the ropes so tight the bonds cut into the skin. The ropes had tiny hooks woven into the strands, so they ripped at skin each time the women moved, or even took a breath. Weighted balls hung from their nipples, adding to their agony, but it was the man Zhu heaped humiliation and punishment on.

  Zhu was naked, his body rippling powerfully with muscles. He beat the man unmercifully, every part of his body, then tied him in a pose that left him contorted but exposed his cock and ass to his tormenter. Zhu left him hanging and went to work on the women, clearly getting aroused at seeing them suffer.

  Gino was shocked to feel sick to his stomach. He had seen torture, but not like this, not for pure pleasure. One shouldn't get aroused by hurting others. There was no doubt that Zhu was getting off on what he was doing, and a good portion of those watching were as well.

  Find the others. They have to be in this club. I want someone to start finding dead bodies and start a panic. I can't get to Zhu in the blinding light. Nor did Gino want to. He wanted to kill his men one by one and then have a little time alone with Zhu. Gino had always thought of himself as a demon--a man belonging in hell--but the things Zhu was doing to his three prisoners was evil. Vile. The man was sick and twisted.

  Red armband in crowd at fifth window, just passed Zhu. That was Diego.

  Gino hated that Diego was inside the area where the well-lit cells were. Each scene was something out of a horror movie. He hadn't realized he felt so protective toward Rubin and Diego. It wasn't that they were that young, or that naive, but they were both good men.

  Gino walked in plain sight to the next cell and stood next to the man with the red armband, just back two steps. The man actually glanced at him and then looked away. Gino waited for recognition to happen, but none did, not face recognition. It was more the fact that he was a man to look out for. A predator, just like Zhu. Zhu's soldier swung toward him, but Gino wrapped an arm around his neck, and wrenched hard. The crack might have been audible if the music wasn't so loud. Keeping his arm around the man's neck he dragged him to the middle of the room to the rows of chairs placed back to back to view the scenes in the cells.

  That's ten. Fifteen to go. Anyone spot those outside? Gino walked back to see Zhu raping one of the women, his hands around her throat, squeezing the life out of her while he took his pleasure. He wanted to kill the man more than he wanted to breathe. He might have used a gun at that moment, but there was no guarantee he could shoot through the glass.

  At your six, Gino. And again, another coming out of a room and heading toward the one at your six. He's covered in blood. The girl he left barely alive looks to be about fifteen if that. That was Diego. His voice was steady, but there was something there that had Gino wanting to order the brothers from the room.

  Two just came out of cell at the end of the hall, right side. They're laughing and looking back into the cell. Both men have blood on them. Looks like arterial spray, Rubin reported. Moving closer.

  Don't. Gino couldn't help himself. He was beginning to feel a little desperate. This club was one of the sickest places he'd ever been in. He needed to kill Zhu, but he didn't like exposing Diego and Rubin to the kinds of things happening. He had a feeling he knew what went on in that cell. There's no need to see what they di
d.

  I've got them, Draden said. Hang back, kid. You're our eyes. We have to know the minute someone spots one of our kills.

  Gino walked casually with a man and a woman, the woman dressed in a luxurious fur, her ears dripping with diamonds. Her eyes were bright, and she was clearly as high as her man as they wandered over to the cell where the two men with red armbands talked just outside the lit room. The woman giggled when she saw the young girl, naked and barely moving, her body covered in blood.

  "We're too late," she whispered, excitement in her voice. "I wanted to see this one. So many ideas to bring home with us to our own little darling."

  Fur coat, black suit. They come out, kill them, he ordered Ezekiel and his brother. He wanted to burn the club down with everyone in it.

  You can't kill them all, Ezekiel's voice steadied him. We're here to take out Zhu. Keep your heads in the game, all of you.

  Maybe not, but these people don't deserve to live.

  20

  T

  he woman in the fur coat turned to the man who had just emerged. "I saw you were here and they'd brought in a young girl for you on the program. I was hoping to see your performance."

  The guard looked her up and down and then back at the girl trying to push up to her hands and knees. "She was delicious."

  Gino took his friend, right there while the other man was basking in the glow of being some kind of star for hurting young girls. He slammed his knife into the base of the skull of the ex-soldier and dragged him back a few feet. Others crowded in to see the teen fall back on the floor. Applause broke out. Gino hauled the dead man to the row of chairs. Eleven down.

  He felt grim, drained of all humanity, but he had to have something left because the club and its inhabitants twisted his stomach. More, the thought of Zara in Zhu's hands made that sick feeling inside him worse. He crept up behind the man responsible for the young girl lying in a pool of her own blood and waited until the man got his fill of laughing at his handiwork. Abruptly Zhu's soldier spun on his heel and pushed his way through the crowd, spotting his friend sprawled out in a chair.

  Gino let him walk almost right up to him, shadowing his every step. When the soldier halted right in front of his friend, he halted as well.

  "What are you doing? We have to relieve the others," the man demanded. He stepped closer when there was no movement.

  Gino heard his swift intake of breath, the recognition that his friend was dead, and then Gino killed the man. There were no guns to catch. These men were relaxing in their favorite way. The ex-soldier liked hurting others. Zhu had gathered an army, personal bodyguards, whatever he wanted of them, but the men were sadistic just like their boss.

  That's twelve.There was satisfaction in killing this one.

  Thirteen and fourteen down,Draden reported. Sick fucks. I would like to be able to kill them again. Maybe three times.

  Gino watched the woman in fur come across the room to the chairs. There was purpose and determination in her step. "We'd like a private demonstration. We can get you another virgin, one even younger if you prefer," she started and then narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

  Gino slipped up behind her. He didn't like killing women, but she was every bit as sick as Zhu. She screamed. Loudly. Loud enough to be heard above the pounding music. The club members were used to the sounds of screams, but hers were persistent and without the notes of agony included. She was also screaming from the common area, not the cells. Heads began to turn.

  Security came out of the shadows as Gino melted into them. He went up the side of the wall, just as Draden did. They all clung there, high, nearly to the ceiling, blending in like lizards. Gino kept his gaze fixed on the hexagonal cell where Zhu indulged his sadistic nature. The scene in the common areas was chaos as people began discovering the dead bodies positioned throughout the club.

  Zhu glanced up, looking impassive as a man wearing a red armband rushed into the brightly lit cell. His gaze never left the window as his man informed him of what was happening. He never once changed expression. He said something, turned back to the man hanging in such agony and shoved a knife into his belly, twisted as the man shrieked, cut up to spill the intestines onto the floor, his expression never changing.

  His men, what was left of his army, gathered around the cell waiting for him to come out. He didn't seem to mind keeping them waiting.

  Zhu walked to the first woman, who shook her head and pleaded. He stabbed her repeatedly, making certain that none of the knife wounds were fatal. She would suffer, bleed and be disfigured if she didn't bleed out. The second woman had stared in horror, and when he turned to her, she begged. Cried. He pulled the ropes to him, licked the tears from her face, and took her mouth in a savage kiss. At the same time, he shoved his knife deep into her body.

  The ex-soldier who had come to warn him laughed and shook his head as Zhu calmly went to a basin and washed the blood off. He didn't look back at the wrecks of human beings he left hanging in ropes. He simply dressed and walked out to join his men. He waited while one helped him into a long coat, listening as they tried to raise the outside guards. Again, it didn't seem to faze him that not one of the men outside answered their radios. He had to know those men were dead and that left him with eleven out of his twenty-five guards.

  Gino didn't look at the remains of those hanging or lying in the cells. He couldn't, not and stay in position. For the first time since Ciro Spagnola had taught him, he couldn't find that cold place inside that allowed him to disassociate. There was no way to see such suffering, the aftermath of sadistic torture on innocents and not want to embrace a berserker's rage, so he kept his gaze fixed on Bolan Zhu.

  They're coming out.

  All vehicles surrounding the club have been rendered useless.There was satisfaction in Malichai's voice. He might not have been in the club, but the things Draden and Gino revealed with just their snippets of conversation were enough to tip him that it was ugly inside.

  Zhu and his men started wading through the chaos of the crowd. They had no problem using the butts of their weapons to slam into the other patrons' heads to get them moving away. The very wealthy weren't used to such treatment. They tried to run for the exits, and that just added to the pandemonium, allowing Gino, Draden, Diego and Rubin to follow unseen, hiding in plain sight in the middle of the panicked crowd.

  The hallway leading to the bar was short, but narrow. Zhu's guards had to go into it two abreast. Draden and Gino came up behind the last two men who were trying to keep the wealthy patrons from knocking them down in order to get out. One swung his semiautomatic toward the ceiling and let loose a burst. The screams amplified and the crowd flung itself forward, a living, breathing wall.

  Gino took advantage, pulling the ex-soldier back into him from behind and cutting his throat in one smooth move, dropping him with a shove back into the crowd. He fell, blood spraying toward those coming at him. More panicked screams. More pushing. That's fifteen.

  Zhu's guards picked up the pace, pushing toward the front, and, knowing they were followed, urging the others to hurry. They kept turning their heads, trying to see an enemy, but the GhostWalkers were too good at blending in.

  "Kill them all," Zhu snapped.

  That was distinctive and Gino and the others went up the wall fast to cling to the ceiling just as several guards stopped, turned and fingers on the triggers, swept a hail of bullets across the crowd trying to follow them to get to the exits. They mowed the patrons of the club down so they fell like dominos. Gino didn't mind in the least. They'd all come to torture others, men, women and children bought from traffickers. They frequented the club to hurt others. He had no problem with seeing their bodies drop and hearing their moans. In the end, the guards left no one standing.

  When the sound of the guns died away, the silence in the club was eerie. The two guards at the rear of the line stepped into the pile of the dead and dying, uncaring that they stepped on fingers or chests. They scanned the building carefully. Insid
e the lit cells was the only movement. A few of the lucky wealthy were pressed tightly against the walls, hoping they would remain unharmed. The guards stalked them and systematically shot each one in the head. As far as Gino was concerned, the men were doing his work for him. He had fully intended to return and take out as many of the foul, vile people he could and then rescue the victims.

  Zhu called out another order and they returned. Inside the bar, they stopped for a brief consultation. "Burn it down. Kill anyone you come across," Zhu ordered.

  The GhostWalkers had followed their prey, staying above them, moving slowly so as not to draw attention. There were enough moaning and dying of patrons to keep the attention of the ex-soldiers. Still, they were careful, not tempting fate by moving too fast.

  We have to get the victims out.They couldn't leave them to die.

  Already, Zhu's men had gone into a closet beside an office door and pulled out some kind of flammable cleaner. They began to throw it on the walls. One went behind the bar and broke bottles of top shelf bourbon and poured it over furniture.

  We'll get them out,Diego offered. You and Draden kill these bastards.

  Ezekiel swore. He wanted the team to stay together, but they couldn't leave victims to be burned alive. Hurry and get them out. We can't leave Gino and Draden without backup.