Steel Assassin

by Geoffrey Saign

  Clay and Dale drove away.

  Steel stared after them, vowing silently to live up to his promise.

  CHAPTER 4

  Christie nudged Steel’s arm. “Ignore Clay. Big brother crap. He’s always been protective of me.”

  Steel kept silent, knowing his own concerns for her wouldn’t allow him to dismiss Clay’s comments so easily.

  She walked back to view the weapons in the trunk. “They’re arming us. For what?”

  “We’re going to find out. Let’s check the other guns quick.”

  They both examined a pistol and Rattler, field-stripping them and examining magazines again. Everything was functional. They were finished in minutes and he shut the trunk.

  Christie walked into his arms, whispering, “I’ll die if anything happens to Harry.”

  He held her close, his stomach wound tight. “We’ll make sure nothing does.”

  The phone rang and he answered, putting it on speaker.

  The Colombian’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Here it is, Steel. Op Retribution. Remember Marita? You abandoned our compatriot, refusing to give her asylum, and thus allowed her to be raped, tortured, and killed by Gustavo Alvarez’s men in the Choco jungle on your last Op.”

  He remembered. The DEA informant, Marita, had died on the Serpent Op. He had considered the possibility that the Colombian kidnapper was somehow connected to Marita but had rejected it as too unlikely. A sinking feeling hit him. He had caused all of this. The past wouldn’t let go.

  Christie’s brow furrowed and he saw worry in her eyes. He felt it too but controlled his features.

  The man kept talking. “We’re holding you responsible for what happened to Marita. You’re going to kill the men who participated in her death. We know everything about you, gringo, and if you do anything we don’t like, Harry dies. Your first target is in Vail. Garcia Rincón. He’s vacationing with his wife and two children, using the alias of Rodrigo Garcia.”

  A photo of Garcia arrived on Steel’s phone. Moustache, dark hair, mid-forties. He showed it to Christie.

  The Colombian continued. “He’s a cousin of Gustavo Alvarez, the drug lord you killed. He’s also one of the men who ruined and killed our beloved Marita. He has four guards. Three are men living in the U.S. but connected to the cartel. The fourth is his most trusted guard, Hernando. Hernando also participated in Marita’s death.

  “Kill Garcia and Hernando tonight or Harry dies. If you let the other guards live, the cartel will have an easier time finding you. It’s up to you. Garcia has rented a house. I’ll text you the address. We’ll know if you succeed.”

  Anger and panic rose in Steel’s throat. “I won’t do anything until I talk to Harry to make sure he’s alive.”

  “Take the phone off speaker and walk away from Christie.”

  Christie’s eyebrows raised, but he did as requested, holding the phone up to his ear.

  “I’m texting you a photo of our compatriot.”

  The photo arrived. It was a shot of Marita’s face and shoulders post-mortem. The torture wounds were obvious and horrible. It made him sick to his stomach, and remorseful again that he had allowed it to happen. Hers was one of the faces that still sometimes haunted his dreams at night.

  “Now ask yourself if you want this to happen to Christie. To your daughter, Rachel. To your ex-wife, Carol. To Harry. I’ll release Christie’s photo and photos of everyone in both of your families to the cartel if you fail or if you call in the police or law enforcement.”

  He felt his world caving in, and he wanted this man dead. “I tried to save Marita.”

  “Go to hell, gringo.”

  “This is between me and you. Let’s meet.”

  “I could have put a bullet in you or Christie long ago, but then your deaths would be too easy. I want you to suffer like Marita did.”

  “Why now?” He glanced around the station, knowing the Columbian wasn’t far away.

  “Opportunity. I had to act when Marita’s killers came north.”

  “How do you know me?” Steel searched for a way out.

  “Information is always available for a price.”

  He had been sold out on the Serpent Op, his name given to the target—the drug lord Gustavo Alvarez. It wasn’t a surprise that the Colombian had traced his name. Gustavo Alvarez had also threatened revenge from the cartel. It hadn’t happened, but it had kept Steel on edge over the last year.

  He casually strolled farther away from Christie. “Christie had nothing to do with Marita’s death. Leave her out of this.”

  “I want you to worry about losing someone you love dearly, all the while knowing that it’s your fault if she dies.”

  Steel’s free hand bunched into a fist, but he kept his voice calm. “If you want revenge, I’ll be more effective if I operate alone. Christie will just get in the way.”

  “That’s part of the fun, amigo.”

  PART 2

  OP: GARCIA

  CHAPTER 5

  Steel pocketed the phone. He kept his expression neutral as he walked back to Christie, but her taut face mirrored his tension. “More instructions.”

  She kissed his cheek. “You’re not a great liar, honey. That’s one of the many reasons I love you. Let’s drive and talk.”

  “You drive.”

  They soon were on the I-70 again, headed west, and she said, “You need to ask for help.”

  “I don’t want to involve anyone else in this mess. They could end up dead or tortured, or have their whole family executed if the cartel gets involved.”

  “There’s one person you can call.” She gripped his arm. “You have to. For Carol and Rachel.”

  He hesitated.

  “If we don’t get help, Steel, people we love are going to die.”

  “Yeah.” He dialed Wyatt’s number from memory. Wyatt answered on the fourth ring, and Steel said, “I have two people that need protection—my ex-wife and my daughter.”

  There was no hesitation on the other end. “Send them.”

  “Thanks.”

  The line went dead. He trusted Wyatt. His security-conscious home in Virginia had been designed and built by Wyatt—the wealthy and eccentric survivalist who had sold it to him.

  He and Wyatt had bonded in the short time they had known each other back then. Both had military histories. And Wyatt had extended an invitation to help Steel if he ever needed it. Steel was relieved Wyatt was taking Carol and Rachel, because the man was even more obsessive and paranoid than he was about security.

  Next he called his ex-wife, Carol. A lawyer working in Virginia, she lived close to his home. She had their daughter Rachel for the week.

  He dreaded this call. It had taken Carol a long time to recover from last year’s hell and he hated dragging her into his mess again. He had told her about Gustavo Alvarez’s threats last year, and they had planned for something like this. They both wanted to protect Rachel. But it was still going to be hard on her.

  “This is Carol.”

  She sounded happy and it made him frown over his next words.

  “I’m sorry, Carol.” He hesitated. “We’re in trouble, and you and Rachel could be at risk. I want you to go somewhere immediately. Going to the police won’t help.”

  “What kind of trouble, Jack? You’re scaring me.”

  “It’s related to the threats we talked about last year. I wouldn’t be asking this if I thought you two were safe. If you go to Wyatt, he can protect you.”

  “For how long?”

  He paused. “Days, maybe a week. I’m not sure yet.”

  It was Carol’s turn to remain silent for a few moments. “Where?”

  Her voice was steady so that was good. “Billings, Montana. I’ll text you his phone number. When you’re an hour out, call him. No calls to anyone else, no one else can know. Drive, do
n’t fly. After you leave, see if you’re followed. If you think you are, don’t call me on this number. I’ll check in. Wyatt is expecting you. He’s solid.”

  “You’re sure there’s no alternative?”

  “Not right now.”

  She sighed. “All right, Jack. I’ll do it. We’ll pack and leave within the hour. I’ll take the dogs to the neighbors. I moved all my work around this week to spend time with Rachel anyway. I’ll tell her we’re going on a road trip and you’re going to try to meet us at the end, okay?”

  “Thank you.” He heaved a breath. “Carol, I’m sorry about this.”

  “I trust you, Jack. Be careful.”

  He got off the phone and texted her Wyatt’s phone number. Finished, he leaned back in his seat, thinking of his daughter. A year ago Rachel had escaped a two-year-long kidnapping. It had taken nearly a year of therapy for her nightmares to end. She was still strong, but that was in part due to the fact that she had returned to two stable parents. Losing her father now would be a blow that might damage her spirit for a lifetime. He resolved he wouldn’t fail her.

  “That was crappy,” he said.

  Christie gripped his hand. “At least they’ll be safe.”

  “Damn him to hell!” His chest heaved.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.” She stroked his forearm. “I know the Colombian threatened you. What did he do? Show you Marita’s morgue photo?”

  “Yes.” Steel couldn’t meet her eyes. “He threatened to show our family photographs to the cartel if we fail.”

  She paused. “He’s putting pressure on you.”

  “It’s working,” he said quietly. “I can’t let him ruin our lives.”

  “You won’t.” Her voice turned hard. “We’ll get through this, Jack. We have to. This is the best time of my life too. The happiest. I love you and our life together too much to let anyone screw it up. And we’re not losing Harry either.”

  He sighed. “Damn straight.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I want to see the photo of Marita.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Look, Jack, we’re being asked to kill these men. I need to see what they’re capable of.”

  He pulled up the photo and handed the phone to her. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed as she looked at it. She gave him the phone and he put it away. Both of them remained silent for a few minutes.

  Reaching over, Christie took his hand in hers again. “What happened to Marita was horrible, but you didn’t do it. Now you have to let it go.”

  She was right. He had to let it go. He’d been trying for over a year. “Thanks.”

  “What about our military? Wouldn’t they want to protect a threatened past Blackhood Op asset with lots of information?”

  “I thought about that. But they’ll want to secure me, take me out of this mess. They won’t give a damn about Harry. At best he’ll be collateral damage. And the Colombian would still release our photos to the cartel.”

  “Other options?” she asked.

  “The police would give us the same results. Harry dead. Our photos sent to the cartel. For now we play along.”

  “I can live with that.” Christie glanced at him. “But if the cartel finds out who we are, we’ll be running forever. And my family and yours will be at risk.”

  “Maybe that’s the plan.” He looked at her. “To punish me, ruin my life. Even if the cartel is unable to find out that we killed their people, the Colombian could give our identity to them out of revenge once this is over.”

  His gaze traced the curves of her heart-shaped face. He was glad she loved him. “I couldn’t live with myself if Rachel and Carol had to hide for the rest of their lives.”

  “I couldn’t either.”

  “You need to call Clay and fill him in so he doesn’t decide to call the police.”

  She took the phone and dialed her brother. Quickly she told him about the Colombian’s threats to release their photos to the cartel, and that they were being directed to Vail where they were going to get some rest. She talked for several minutes before she hung up.

  Steel noted she didn’t tell Clay about the Colombian’s demands to kill Garcia Rincón and his bodyguard, Hernando.

  Christie’s voice was calm. “Clay’s not happy.”

  “I wouldn’t be either.” He glanced at her. “You didn’t tell him about the Garcia hit.”

  “I didn’t want to worry him.” Her lips pursed. “I also don’t know if I can kill Garcia and his bodyguards in cold blood.”

  He understood. It was one of the reasons he had left Blackhood Ops. Killing terrorists had felt justified. He was protecting the innocent. But after an Op had been taken over by outside interests, he decided blind obedience to orders was something he couldn’t live with anymore. His jaw clenched over the fact that he was being forced into the same situation again.

  He dredged up a memory. “Garcia is connected to the cartels. I saw intel on him a year ago when I was in Blackhood.”

  She spoke softly. “Can we go to anyone else for help?”

  “We have no proof Garcia killed Marita, just this guy’s word. No authority is going to act on that.” He rolled down the window a little to let in some fresh air. “I’ll go after Garcia and his men, while you think about how we can find Harry.”

  “I’m coming with you, Jack.”

  “This is my fault. I—”

  “End of discussion, Steel.”

  He noted her clipped tone. “You’re very stubborn once your mind is made up.”

  “You finally noticed?” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.

  Normally he would have laughed, but now he couldn’t even smile.

  CHAPTER 6

  Harry listened for any sounds that might tell him where he was, but nothing distinct caught his attention. The young man with the C-4 vest was Latino. He wondered if the rest were too.

  The cargo bed was lined with carpet. Including the underside of the bed cover above him—probably to reduce any noise he made. The cover was just above the truck sidewalls, too low to even crawl under.

  He swung his arms across the carpet in the dark. Empty. There was nothing available that might serve as a weapon. Still they hadn’t bound his feet and hands. Amateurs. Wanting to gauge travel time, he checked his watch. He also considered options, something Steel had drilled into him repeatedly in the virtual reality training. There was always a solution.

  Choosing the most likely scenario for success, he rolled onto his side. He positioned his boots so that when the tailgate was unlocked he could kick it hard into the person opening it

  After an hour and a half the truck finally stopped.

  In a minute he heard a key in the tailgate lock. He waited for it to open, but it didn’t. Counting to five, he pulled his boots back and kicked hard. The tailgate slammed open with a jarring thud. He had a clear view out the back.

  A man wearing a black face mask and holding a sawed-off shotgun stood five feet from the back of the pickup. Not so dumb after all. Harry believed it was the same man that had been standing near the tailgate when he had climbed into the bed. What little he saw wouldn’t help a police description.

  “Try that again, gringo, and I will cut off one of your fingers.” The man motioned with the shotgun. “Now turn around so your head is a foot from the tailgate.”

  Disappointed, Harry had to wiggle around to squeeze his legs past the wheel wells. When he did, all he could see was a dark landscape outside. No lights. They could be anywhere in Colorado. However he saw the moon. He figured it rose in the southeast and if he could see it, they were traveling north.

  “Lie on your stomach and put your hands beneath your waist.”

  He did as he was told, resting his head on its side. His captor had only a slight Latino accent and sounded educated. If this was relat
ed to the fatwa on Afia Ameen, why kidnap him?

  The man pushed the shotgun barrel into the back of his neck, while someone else held a phone against his ear. He couldn’t see the second person, but there had been two people in the truck cab. The driver had been smaller and wore a hoodie, but the tinted windows had hidden the person’s face.

  The man with the shotgun spoke. “Ask to talk to your sister. Tell her you have only a few hours to live if they don’t succeed.”

  Steel answered, his voice coming through the phone’s speaker. “Hello?”

  Harry swallowed. “This is Harry, Jack.”

  “Are you all right?” Steel’s voice was matter-of-fact.

  “Sweet as the moon. How’s Afia?”

  “She’s safe, Harry. They didn’t hurt her.”

  That made him feel better. He had felt responsible for allowing the attacker to take shots at Afia at the auditorium. She could have died there. The shotgun pressed harder into his neck, and he added, “They want me to talk to Christie.”

  There was a short pause before she came on the line.

  “Harry?”

  He heard the same concern in his sister’s voice. Hating what he had to say, he hesitated. But the shotgun provided motivation to follow orders. “They want me to tell you I might only have a few hours to live if you don’t succeed, but—”

  The phone was pulled away and he couldn’t finish. The tailgate was slammed shut and he heard the lock click.

  Happy that Afia was all right, he was also puzzled by it. It meant none of this had anything to do with her or the fatwa. Then what? Most likely something Steel had been involved with in the past.

  He doubted the police had been called in, since Jack and Christie were under some kind of pressure to cooperate with the kidnappers. Dale and Clay would be searching for him. They would move mountains to rescue him, but it might not be possible for anyone to find him.

  Steel’s motto, Stay calm, assess options, look for a solution—inspired him. Two people, no matter how good, weren’t going to hold him for long.