The Man From Belarus (Corps Justice Book 16)
Page 22
BRIGGS — YUKON
Snow killed his visibility in gusts. Daniel stepped carefully, Liberty matching his every move. Ghosts in the white. He’d timed the stalk perfectly.
A form rose from the ground, stalks of tundra grass and camouflaged pattern obscured the small build. What surprised him wasn’t the new addition. Of course, having an unknown party so close to a secret operation clanged warning bells, but what intrigued the sniper was the lock of blond hair that fell from concealment. Whoever it was was quick to hide it again.
Daniel waited until the form moved off, judging the perfect step to pace behind. His timing was perfect, or at least he thought. Then two striking eyes swiveled back his way. The chase was on.
Chapter One Hundred Ten
LENA — YUKON
She ran, figuring she could make it to her next hide. It might’ve been possible to shoot the man who’d appeared out of the cold. But her rifle was tucked at her side. Too slow to raise. And she didn’t know in that brief look if he was a threat. She would not kill an innocent man, no matter her father’s fervor. The man might be one of the very few residents in this barren land. She’d seen a handful.
But as she bolted toward her booby-trapped hide, she felt in her bones that this wasn’t the case. Those eyes. Those piercing eyes.
Her normal speed hampered by the suit, she willed her legs to move faster, push harder. She looked back and saw the man running. How had he gotten so close?
Her keen vision caught something else, another blur. A streak of brown that came at her like a comet.
Chapter One Hundred Eleven
BRIGGS — YUKON
The dog had natural instincts for the fight. She was born to protect. Instead of leaping onto the person’s back, Liberty clipped the legs, sending the form tumbling end over end.
Daniel saw the familiar shape of a rifle and was quick to snatch it away. Liberty was doing the heavy work, paws planted and growling at the mystery man.
“Get up,” Daniel said. “Slowly.”
The figure didn’t move. Liberty’s growl deepened. Daniel wasn’t worried about being outgunned, but he was surprised to see a Russian sniper rifle in the free hand. “Do you have any weapons beside the rifle?”
“No,” came the muffled response from the ground.
It sounded like a boy, not even 12-years-old.
“Okay. I’ll say it again. Get up, slowly.”
This time the guy moved, slowly. From belly to knees and up to the feet. Liberty stood watch, legs stiff, teeth bared.
“Good. Now raise your hands over your head and turn to me.”
The hands came up. The figure turned.
Daniel set the rifle on the ground and approached warily, pistol at the ready. Another flash of those piercing eyes beneath all the layers.
“Who are you?” Daniel asked, more curious now that the immediate threat had been tamped down.
The figure didn’t answer.
“Are you alone?”
The figure nodded. Not that the answer should be trusted.
He was close enough to reach out and tug down the winter mask. Staring back at him was the face of a young woman who was beautiful enough to grace any magazine cover in the world.
Chapter One Hundred Twelve
YEGOROVICH — YUKON
He didn’t know how they made the landing. It was close to whiteout conditions and still the pilot never flinched. They dropped out of the sky and banked into one of the roughest landings the Russian would ever endure. But they made it. To where, the president did not know. But he wouldn’t ask. He’d decided to keep his mouth shut for the time being.
The plane’s engine whined, settled, and the pilot got out, snow swirling into the cockpit. He came around and manhandled the Russian out the back door, dragged him by his bound wrists, and kicked him in the back of the knees. The president dropped to the ground.
The pilot produced a pistol and stepped back, glaring at his captive.
“Plans have changed, Mr. President. You see, I hate everything about you and your piece of shit country. I’d just as soon drop a nuclear load on the place and call it a day.” The pistol swayed from side to side like the pilot was trying to decide which side of his brain to shoot. “But I don’t have access to nuclear codes. So, I’m gonna take this comm blackout as a sign that I can finally put a bullet in the head of a man who deserves a hundred deaths, not just one.”
The man was crazy. Why had he brought him all this way? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just throw him out of the plane? Why the spectacle? Was this one of those murderous movie villains who like to have their monologue before they finish the deed? What a waste of time. And what was this of a comm blackout? He hadn’t radioed anyone from the plane.
“If you’re going to kill me, kill me. I don’t have time for amateur theater bullshit. I tired of dramatics long ago.”
The pistol steadied in what he assumed was a dead center shot into his forehead.
“I wish your people could see you now. Any last words before you die, Mr. President?”
Yegorovich had none. He would not grovel to this man.
“Fine.” The index finger wrapped around the trigger.
“I hope this gives you peace.” Yegorovich closed his eyes, ready for the reaper to come. He was displeased to feel his heartbeat racing. Ah, but then it was human, was it not? And this was the last gift: the clarity, the heightened awareness. Was that elk he smelled on the air?
A sound like a pack being thrown to the ground made him open his eyes. There, spasming on the ground, was the pilot, limbs shaking, jaw clenched. What…?
“Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. President,” said a voice from behind him. A large form appeared, the man’s face ebony black. He helped him to his feet. “My friend here,” he motioned to another figure half his size, with a strange looking braided beard cascading down his chest, “will get you outta this cold.”
The large man pulled what looked like a TV remote out of his pocket and pressed a button. The pilot’s spasmodic gyrating stopped. The man rolled over and vomited, and then immediately reached for his weapon. What Yegorovich guessed was an American size 15 boot stepped down on the pilot’s hand.
“Whoa, easy there, my man. You’re coming with me.”
Chapter One Hundred Thirteen
STOKES — YUKON
Top was the first to return, the scruff of Wilcox’s coat firm in his grasp. The assassin’s eyes were red-rimmed and watered.
“Where do you want me to put this one?” Top asked, lifting Wilcox enough to have him on his toes.
“Tie him up. Put him in the corner.”
Wilcox just smiled like he didn't care. Cal wondered how much the charge they’d put through him really felt like. He’d once had a tickle of the device, a watch locked to the wrist. Cal was glad Wilcox introduced him to it. A fine piece of gear when you needed someone to behave.
“Come on. I was just messing around,” Wilcox said as Top secured him to the end of the bed.
“Shut up before I stuff a dirty sock in your mouth and seal it with crazy glue.”
Cal rolled his eyes. Diane had suggested killing Wilcox. Cal still wondered if she was right, though Wilcox had pulled off the impossible feat against the longest odds.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Wilcox flared dramatically, the stereotypical damsel in distress. “Why, my father would have you hanged for treason.”
Top looked at Cal who shook his head.
“Fine,” said Top. “But you make one wrong move, funny man, I’ll crack your skull in half and fry your eyeballs in ghee.” Top’s pats on Wilcox’s cheek were more like slaps.
“Anything you say, André the Giant.”
Cal motioned the big Marine over and whispered, “Where’s the Russian?”
“Gaucho’s got him in the other hut.”
They’d lost radio contact with Wilcox for close to thirty minutes. That was thirty minutes when the mic Wilcox wore and the camera in the cockpi
t hadn’t broadcast anything. They were lucky Wilcox hadn’t landed somewhere else. Not that there were many places to land in the Yukon. Not at this time of year.
“Is he hurt?”
“Nah, he’s fine. Looks like he’s in good spirits too. Tough one. I could see it in his eyes. Acting like this is a vacation. You want me to go with you?”
Cal looked over at Wilcox, who’d grabbed a pillow from the bed with his teeth and was doing his best to make a sleeping spot on the floor.
“I need you to stay with Wilcox. He makes a play, shock him green.”
Top looked over at Wilcox and smiled. “You got it, boss man.”
Chapter One Hundred Fourteen
STOKES — YUKON
They’d call him crazy for what he’d done. Ordering the kidnapping of the Russian president. And for what? Because he needed an answer about his father?
No, that wasn’t all. Daniel and the others agreed. The Russian was up to something, and Cal meant to find out what. The trick was finding out before his president made his special appearance. While that seemed unlikely given the weather, Cal didn’t doubt the effectiveness of a presidential order on his considerable assets.
He was making his way to the next hut down the path when Liberty ran up and bumped his leg, signaling the need for a pet.
Cal obliged while looking back the way she’d come. Snow was thick in the air now and seeing past twenty feet, except between gusts, was near impossible.
He didn’t have to wait long. Daniel came into view soon after with what looked like a grim look on his face, and an indistinguishable form trudging along at his side. It looked more like a skinny bush than a human. But as they came closer, Cal saw that it had legs. Definitely human. And by the look on Daniel’s face, another wrinkle in Cal’s already harebrained plan.
Chapter One Hundred Fifteen
LENA — YUKON
She hadn’t told the man anything. She never would. They could torture her if they wanted and they’d never get the truth.
At least that was what she told herself. Terry Shamblin had told her the truth: everyone broke. The trick was to never get caught. Well, she was caught because she’d made the mistake. So stupid. So childish. It felt like treason what she’d done.
And yet, the man and his growling dog hadn’t harmed her. In fact, he’d been gentle and, dammit, almost kind.
They were trudging toward the place she’d watched for days. She knew every detail. Could probably walk it blind.
She thought of every trick she knew. None got her any closer to escaping and completing her task.
The snow blanketed the trail in inches now, and the dog ran ahead. Even the dog had stopped growling when the man patted it on the backside. Good dog. Kind eyes, like the man.
The snow cleared for a moment. She saw him then. The man she’d come to kill. The man her father hated for a reason he’d never said.
Cal Stokes.
He stared at her as she stopped cold. She had one last chance and she knew it.
She sprang at the man, the tiny blade she’d hidden in the folds of her sleeve aimed straight for the bastard’s neck.
Chapter One Hundred Sixteen
STOKES — YUKON
He caught the wrist and it vibrated in his hand. He could feel the unbridled rage in the attempt, though his strength more than overwhelmed it. He was more annoyed than concerned, though he’d give Briggs plenty of grief for not seeing the weapon.
The hooded attacker yelped when he bent the wrist and pried the blade away.
A girl?
A leg came up, aimed right at his crotch. Daniel yanked the girl back before the foot could hit home, eliciting a shriek.
“Sorry about that,” was all that the sniper offered.
“Sorry about that?” Cal parroted, amused at the nonchalance. “This is what you have to do to get dates, Briggs? Try eHarmony next time.”
“Fuck you,” the girl snarled as Daniel smirked.
Cal peeled back her mask carefully. She’d probably try to bite him next. She didn’t.
“What do we have here?”
Daniel held out a rifle colored in winter camouflage. “She’s been watching.”
Cal was about to ask what she’d been watching, birds maybe, but the answer was obvious. Cal and his team were the only show in town.
He stared at her and she matched him with steel and ice. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was gorgeous.
“I’m short on time so I’ll keep this simple. Who are you and why the hell have you been watching us?”
She made a face like she was going to spit on his boots. “I’m not here to watch you.” She did her best to sneer, though Cal detected the quiver of her lower lip.
A whistle caught their attention and they all turned to see Diane coming their way, wearing Cal’s parka.
“He’s almost here,” she said over the wind. Cal saw her eyes pass over the girl then over to him. He shrugged and was about to tell her to go back inside when Diane slumped to the ground. Cal reached out, like he was going to pull her out of whatever hole she’d fallen into, but the crack of a rifle shot hit his ears the same time he saw the blood.
Chapter One Hundred Seventeen
YEGOROVICH — YUKON
It was impossible not to hear the shot. There was something familiar about it. He had an ear for it. Always had. He’d trained to listen and listen well. In his twenties he would sit at the rifle range and close his eyes. Then he would guess the weapon and the caliber. It was only a matter of weeks before he guessed nine out of ten.
He cocked his head and waited for another shot. Yes, it sounded like a Russian weapon. Something old. Used in the Second World War for sure. Yes, a sniper’s weapon.
No second shot came, but the screams did.
Chapter One Hundred Eighteen
BRIGGS — YUKON
He saw it all. Felt it.
Cal running. Liberty with him. The girl turning, surprised.
With nowhere to put her, he dragged her along, her legs almost pulled from beneath her.
The shot wasn’t even close. In the snowfall, it was impossible. He’d made a mistake. A huge mistake. He should’ve alerted them. Should’ve been faster.
They ran and the second crack came. Cal was dragging Diane away when the round hit her in the thigh.
Faster. He had to run faster.
Chapter One Hundred Nineteen
WILCOX — YUKON
One shot. Then the screams.
Wilcox sat up, cursing at the bonds. He knew that scream. He’d heard it before. Pure anguish. Base pain.
It belonged to Cal Stokes.
He pulled and pulled. The bed creeped with the strain.
A second shot in the distance.
That superhuman strength that comes with calamity hit his veins. Wilcox yanked with his soul and was rewarded when the bar snapped at the soldered joint. He crashed against the wall, knocking his head for the effort. Shaking the stars from his eyes, he ran for the door.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty
TRENT — YUKON
“Stay inside!” Daniel yelled over the howling wind when Top and Gaucho looked outside, weapons in hand.
“What—?”
The blood.
Whose blood?
Daniel disappeared, dragging someone behind him.
Top didn’t have time to put it all together when the familiar whomp whomp whomp of helicopter rotors thumped overhead.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One
ZIMMER — YUKON
“The LZ is hot. I repeat, the LZ is hot.”
That was Top’s voice, wasn’t it?
Rather than an answer, Zimmer heard a quick, sharp sound—something hitting the side of the helicopter.
“Hold on, Mr. President,” the pilot said, yawing hard to the left. Zimmer held onto his insides as the helo went through a series of evasive maneuvers.
“What the hell’s going on?”
A warning siren went off in the
cockpit.
“I’ve gotta get you out of here, sir,” the pilot said.
Zimmer didn’t know why, but he wondered if the woman was sweating under her flight suit. She sure didn’t sound worried.
“What hit us?” Zimmer asked.
“Rifle fire, Mr. President,” she said as if she spoke from experience.
Marge was going to kill him for this. She wanted to go in his place. And it would be a fight between her and the Secret Service to see who would be the first to give him a good talking-to, but there’d only been room for one passenger in the AH-1Z Viper. Luckily the Marines were in Canada training with their cousins to the north.
“Take me down there, Captain.”
“But, sir, they’re—”
“Those are my friends down there, Captain. Now, do I need to pull rank, or are you going to tell me where you keep your spare sidearm?”
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two
WILCOX — YUKON
He almost ran into Cal as he rounded the hut’s corner. They locked eyes, and Wilcox saw the pain. He reached down to help carry the woman.
“No,” Cal said.
Wilcox was at a loss for words.
“No,” Cal repeated, regaining a modicum of composure. “Go find whoever did this and bring them to me.”
Wilcox didn’t have to be told twice. He knew the basic direction of where the shots had come from. His killer’s instincts would do the rest.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three