Steel Assassin

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by Geoffrey Saign


  As he lay there, he wondered if his job in Greensave was worth his life. His wife had died four years ago from pancreatic cancer. While she was sick he had quit his construction job to take care of her, doing small carpentry jobs on the side.

  After her death he had quit working. His heart wasn’t in it anymore. He and his wife had been saving money to build a house and buy enough land to do beekeeping and grow organic herbs. That plan had faded away.

  Steel’s new company had seemed like a salvation. Get paid to travel while helping others. Christie had called him about the job. He hadn’t seen much of her over the last decade so spending time with her also made it an offer he couldn’t refuse.

  Considering all of that, he had no regrets. And he didn’t plan on dying on the job.

  His military background was more basic than Steel’s, but the training in Steel’s VR sims gave him confidence that he could handle almost anything. Whoever these people were, they would regret holding him.

  In less than an hour the truck stopped again. Maybe they were going to let him talk to Christie and Jack once more. He tried to think of a message. Better yet, maybe now he could escape.

  He readied himself by lying on his side and resting his fists by his head, which was still close to the tailgate. One punch and the guy would be down. At six-three, two–hundred–fifty pounds, people recognized that he was strong, but they still underestimated his strength.

  The tailgate opened.

  Before he could lift his head, a soft woman’s voice surprised him from the side of the truck. She was out of sight and must have been the person he had seen wearing the hoodie in the truck cab, and the one who had held the phone.

  “Lie on your stomach and put your head on its side, por favor, Señor Harry. Hands beneath your stomach and hold still. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She sounded gentle so he decided to play along. He turned onto his stomach and shoved his hands beneath his torso. Where was the man? Probably five feet from the tailgate again. The woman also sounded educated, her accent barely noticeable, like the man’s.

  “What do you want?” he asked. “I don’t even know you. What’s your name?”

  The woman didn’t answer, but the shotgun was pressed into the back of his neck. It gave him another reason not to try anything.

  “Hold still,” the woman repeated.

  He couldn’t see either of them but was curious why the woman had said she didn’t want to hurt him.

  There was a soft prick on his upper right arm. That startled him, but there was little he could do. Abruptly he felt drowsy and began to fade.

  Before he lost consciousness, he heard the man say, “I’m ready to kill the stupid gringo.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Christie’s features tightened and her eyes misted as she listened to her brother, Harry. Empathizing with her pain, Steel couldn’t think of any way to ease it.

  Afterward he asked, “Did you hear anything in the background?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did I.” He thought about the call. “Harry can see the moon so it’s likely he’s headed north. Let your brothers know. The Colombian complied with my request to talk to Harry so he’s willing to make small compromises to keep us cooperating with his vendetta.”

  Christie bit her lip. “How can that help us?”

  “Right now I don’t know, but it might give us leverage with him at some point.” What he kept to himself was that he also sensed the Colombian’s deep anger. The man talked calmly and sounded logical, but Steel intuited the man’s hatred for him and the cartel. This man wouldn’t hesitate to kill. The Colombian also knew how to be professional with his emotions, which meant he was dangerous.

  Christie called Clay to tell him about Harry’s call. She still didn’t mention the upcoming hit on Garcia, instead just repeating that they were being directed to Vail and would rest there for the night. It was between Christie and her brother so Steel didn’t comment.

  When she finished the call, the phone beeped. A text.

  “Garcia ’s address.” Christie looked at it and handed him the phone. “What if the guys holding Harry are just Garcia’s drug competition and this has nothing to do with Marita?”

  He leaned back. “I thought the same thing, but this is a risky way to get rid of your competition.”

  His intuition always guided him, and it said their situation was over Marita. “They’re making me pay for Marita’s death, while keeping themselves out of the spotlight. Which means they fear cartel retribution as much as we do. Maybe they’re related to Marita and they’re calling her a compatriot to hide that fact.”

  “She was their daughter or sister?”

  “Something like that, yeah.”

  Christie shook her head. “If my daughter or sister went through the torture Marita had, I’d probably want revenge too. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes.” He thought about what he would do if someone raped and tortured Christie. It would be ugly.

  While Christie drove, he tried to think of ways to find Harry and get out from under the kidnapper’s control. Nothing seemed viable. Still he clung to his motto for emergencies and seemingly impossible situations. It had always served him in the past and he had to believe it would this time too.

  They made Vail in an hour and a half. Mountains surrounded them, forming darker shadows against the starry sky.

  When they stopped for gas, Steel bought a tourist map. He paid cash so his credit card wasn’t tracked. They studied the map in the car. Garcia’s house was south of the main city and somewhat isolated.

  Steel folded up the map. “We need to ask Garcia for a list of names of those who killed Marita. I want to see if it matches the kidnapper’s list. Then we’ll be sure the Colombian is telling the truth about Garcia and the others.”

  “How many men could have been involved with killing one woman?”

  He didn’t answer, fearful of what was ahead of them.

  Christie glanced at him, her lips pursed. Starting the car, she drove out of the lot, using side roads until they were a half mile from the address.

  He rechecked the map. “Pull past the driveway and find a good place to park a hundred yards east of it if you can.”

  When they drove past the long driveway, he noted it was mostly hidden by trees. The forest hid the house too. Private. What someone like Garcia would prefer. Better for them too.

  Christie found a small turnaround and pulled deep off the road onto grass. She killed the lights.

  The air carried the scent of the pine trees that bordered the road. Steel found it refreshing, but tension filled his limbs.

  Christie pulled the trunk release and he got out and opened the lid. She threw her purse inside, and he tossed in his billfold. She gave him the car keys to carry.

  He opened the duffel bag and stared at its contents. For a moment he didn’t move. What they were about to do would bring him back into a life that he had walked away from. Killing. Murder. Ops. He didn’t want to go back. But it was either this or say goodbye to everything he had.

  He put a silencer on a Glock, noticing the serial numbers had been filed off, and stuck it beneath his shirt. Christie shoved the silenced SIG into her waistband.

  “Keep the jacket buttoned. It hides your white blouse.”

  “Good idea.” She complied.

  He stuffed zip ties in his pockets. The moon was out, but they might need the night vision goggles in the house. Grabbing a pair, he left them hanging around his neck. He gave a pair to Christie too. She slipped them over her head to try them on, and then let them hang down her back.

  Picking up a small, sheathed knife, he handed it to her. She stuffed it into her waistband too. He had the OTF knife in his belt-sheath so he opted for not taking another blade. The duct tape might be useful, but he had no convenient way to carry it.

&n
bsp; He attached silencers to two Rattlers and handed one to her, along with a spare mag which she shoved into a jacket pocket. He rammed an extra mag into a pocket. Grabbing the face masks, he shut the trunk and led her into the woods far enough to be out of sight from cars on the road.

  They stopped, staring at each other.

  “Strategy?” asked Christie.

  He didn’t like her taking such a risk, and he still didn’t know how they were going to get through the next hour. All of it ramped up his concerns. “If Garcia participated in Marita’s torture and murder, then he’s a killer who will kill again. If that’s the case, I have less of a problem killing him.”

  “What about the guards?” she asked.

  “If we can avoid killing the three from North America, we’ll do it.” He had already considered a number of strategies that would minimize Christie’s risk, but he was unsure what she would accept. “You wait here thirty minutes. Then come up the side of the driveway.”

  Her brows hunched. “Really? If you think I’m waiting here while you try to take everyone, you’re crazy.”

  “You don’t have field Op experience.”

  “I’m coming.”

  He gave it one more shot. “The cartel will have an easier time finding us if Garcia’s wife and kids report a couple instead of a lone gunman.”

  “Nice try. With four guards, plus keeping the kids and wife out of it, it will be a lot easier to question Garcia if I’m there.”

  He couldn’t argue with her logic. “If you hesitate to shoot someone, you’ll end up dead.”

  “I can take care of myself. What if Garcia calls the police?”

  “He won’t. If he’s using an alias it means he doesn’t want anyone examining him too closely.” He stood there, thinking.

  She eyed him. “What do you want me to do, Steel?”

  His ability to select optimal strategies in the field always gave him an advantage over the enemy and an edge of safety. But Christie didn’t have his experience.

  He cleared his throat. “Wait here ten minutes to give me time to reach the back, and then work your way to the driveway. Spot the guards. I’ll secure the back of the house. My guess is there might be one guard there, most likely two in the front. That leaves Hernando and Garcia inside.

  “After I take care of the rear guard, I’ll work my way to the front from the west. In a quarter hour you begin working your way along the east side of the driveway. Stay in the trees. When you see the front guards respond to me, come up fast. We’ll use zip ties on them if they’re still alive.”

  “I could come up sooner.” She sounded annoyed.

  “I have decades of experience in Op work.”

  “I have experience too.”

  He nodded. “You’re good with a gun, self-defense, and analyzing situations—”

  “Not good. Excellent. And you know it.”

  “Yes, excellent.” She had been a counter-terrorism ops analyst when he first met her, with great shooting skills and adequate fighting skills. Over the last year she had honed her physical skills by working hard with him and his virtual reality program—something he had insisted on if she wanted to join him on field assignments.

  The VR system had been developed by the Army for Blackhood senior operative training. He had convinced them years ago to allow him to use it in his barn.

  After Blackhood fell apart a year ago, he had hung onto the VR program for Greensave operative training. He still used it obsessively to maintain his razor-sharp skills, but he regretted opening up that door to Christie.

  “Providing protection for someone is different than trying to take out targets,” he added.

  “I might surprise you.”

  He let it go, and whispered, “No risks. Quiet as a mouse.”

  “Easy.”

  They pulled on the black hoods. Christie tucked her long hair beneath the mask.

  He gave her one more glance, then turned and strode deeper into the woods.

  CHAPTER 8

  Christie didn’t wait ten minutes. As soon as Steel faded into the trees she made her way toward the driveway. Keeping the winding road in sight, she remained deep enough in the forest to stay out of view.

  Steel wanted her to be out of the action, but she wanted to make sure she could back him up. He was too protective of her. Just like Clay. If she proved to him that she was competent, then he would trust her more and worry less.

  More importantly, she had never loved anyone seriously her whole life and now she was head-over-heels in love with a man she respected and admired. No one was going to take him from her.

  There was no traffic and the quiet of the woods calmed her racing thoughts, which kept returning to Harry. Were they torturing him? Planning to kill him anyway?

  When Harry said that he might have only a few hours to live, it had shaken her. His big smile and calm face always made her feel bright inside. And she had talked him into the job at Greensave. She felt responsible for him.

  She wondered how far she was willing to go to keep her brother alive. Whatever it took. She could never face Clay, Dale, or her parents if she didn’t. She wouldn’t be able to face herself either.

  An owl hooted in the distance. Steel loved birds. For a moment she was overtaken by fury at the men trying to ruin their lives. She took a deep breath. Steel had also taught her to keep emotion out of field work or it could get you killed.

  The ground was soft, easy to move over quietly. She had on a decent pair of lace-up work shoes that she could run in if she had to. A hundred feet later, through a break in the trees, she saw the paved driveway—a lighter surface shining in the moonlight.

  She stopped twenty yards from it behind a large pine tree. Scanning the area, she didn’t see any guards near the road or the driveway. Fifteen minutes seemed too long to wait here. What if Steel ran into trouble? He always had a hard time asking for help.

  She began walking parallel to the driveway, wanting to be closer to the front of the house when Steel reached it. Far ahead, lanterns lit up the sides of a two-car detached garage. A sidewalk and steps to the left led farther back to the front porch of the house.

  She glimpsed a man standing in the shadows of the porch.

  Stopping immediately, she pulled on the night vision goggles. When she looked again, the guard was gone. Had he seen her? It seemed doubtful with the trees between them.

  She left the goggles on. Steel had it backward. There must be two guards in back and only one in front. If she took out the front guard, then she could warn him.

  Rounding a big pine, she paused, the Rattler level in her hands.

  Something pressed hard against the middle of her back. She stiffened. A gun barrel.

  “Not a word, señorita, or you die here.”

  Her hair was pulled back along with the back of her mask, arching her neck. A number of self-defense responses occurred to her, but she didn’t see herself surviving any of them. She had to work to keep her panic at bay.

  “Drop the gun.”

  She let the Rattler slip from her hands.

  “Kick it away.”

  She gave it a half-hearted kick, not able to do more with her head tilted back.

  “Now slowly. Hands behind your head. Interlock your fingers. Then drop to your knees.”

  She carefully complied, the gun following her down to her knees, her hair still pulled back hard, making it awkward to lower herself. Not knowing what he was going to do, fear stampeded her thoughts.

  He shoved her down hard onto the ground on her belly, jamming a knee into her back. She grunted with the weight of his body as he pressed the gun into her right cheek and patted down her jacket. After finding her knife and the spare mag, he tossed both to the side.

  His gun and knee were removed and she heard him step away.

  “Turn over.”
>
  She felt vulnerable but complied. Where was he? He had to be standing behind her head.

  “Lift up the front of your blouse.”

  Was he going to rape her? She pulled her blouse up a few inches, revealing the SIG.

  “Take the pistol and toss it. Two fingers only.”

  She did, and then quickly pulled her blouse back down.

  “Now on your stomach again.”

  In relief she rolled over, hearing him talk softly.

  “We have visitors, stay alert.”

  She berated herself for getting caught so easily. Stupid. Steel had been right about the guards and her lack of field experience. Her carelessness would get them both killed.

  Stopping her racing thoughts, she focused on her VR training with Steel. Everyone gets into bad situations, he had told her. Getting out of them is the key. Stay calm, assess options, look for a solution.

  The guard put a knee into her back again, which made it hard to breathe. He ground the gun barrel into her cheek a second time. “Why are you here?”

  Her voice was muffled by his body weight and the soil. “Call the police. Let them figure it out. We’re in Vail. You can’t hide a body here and expect to get away with it.”

  The man chuckled. “We’ll take you out in a car trunk and have some fun with you later. We’ll take turns. My friends will be very happy. It’s nice you dressed up for us.”

  Ignoring his threats, she concentrated on her body and his weight, tensing her arms and torso. Speed and surprise. She had worked on this scenario a hundred times in the virtual reality sims, and in person with Steel. However it wasn’t quite the same on dirt with an actual killer on top of her.

  “Let’s see what you look like.” With his knee still pressed into her back, he pulled off her night vision goggles. Next he removed the gun from her cheek and grabbed the top of her head mask.

  Without thinking she put everything she had into a violent rolling twist, away from his center of gravity. His knee slid off her back to the side of her so that he straddled her torso, but her right arm blocked his gun enough so the muffled gunshot missed her head.

 

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