Steel Assassin

by Geoffrey Saign

  The overcast sky seemed to reach down and touch the tops of the mountains. He enjoyed the scenery, not green like the jungle-covered landscape in Colombia, but beautiful nonetheless. With many hiding places for bodies.

  After thirty minutes the SUV pulled onto the shoulder a half mile ahead of him. He pulled over too, watching them.

  The front passenger got out with a pair of binoculars, watching something farther up the road. Angel leaned over, pulled his binoculars out of the glove compartment, and scanned the road ahead.

  Several miles away on a curve he glimpsed a pickup, but it quickly disappeared. It was dark colored—not white. Perhaps the kidnappers had switched vehicles.

  The SUV remained parked. It looked like the men were waiting for the pickup to reappear. Another of the men got out, a cup in hand, and leaned against the SUV.

  It might be a while. No matter. He was patient.

  Forty-five minutes later they were still there. It didn’t appear that they were sure the pickup belonged to the kidnappers, because they hadn’t called in the other SUV. Whatever their assumptions, he had a good feeling about the pickup.

  From the glove compartment he took out his box of badges and selected a U.S. Marshal’s badge. He attached it to his belt. It was a stretch, but most people wouldn’t question his presence, nor even know what a U.S. Marshal’s job entailed. Too many TV shows and movies took liberties that the general public absorbed as fact. And he had perfected his American accent long ago.

  Leaning back, he did a quick body scan, relaxing all his muscles. Calm helped him operate efficiently. He was ready. And if anything occurred that surprised him, he would call Renata.

  CHAPTER 19

  Steel drove most of the night.

  Christie took over in the morning, allowing him to sleep until noon. It was midafternoon when they arrived in Three Rivers, California. The overcast sky threatened heavy rain, but so far only a light drizzle hit their windshield.

  Christie pulled into a gas station to get gas and supplies. Steel checked in with Clay, who sounded tired. No news. Next he called Colonel Jeffries to see if there was anything new regarding Harry. The colonel had nothing to report but wanted to know where they were and what vehicle they were driving.

  “We’re about to go after the second target,” said Steel. “We’ll need witness protection for a woman. If we get the ISIS information, you better deliver on Harry.”

  “Who’s the target and where are you, Steel?”

  He heard the colonel’s frustration. “We’ll keep you posted.”

  “That’s not good enough.” Jeffries sounded angry.

  “Find Harry and I’ll answer all of your questions.” He hung up.

  Christie returned with a map, fruit, nuts, juice, and water. They pulled the car into the back of the lot. Steel retrieved a pair of binoculars from the duffel bag in the trunk. While they ate he filled her in on the calls with Jeffries and Clay, and the earlier call with the Colombian.

  “He wants us to cut up Vincente and his men just like they cut up Marita’s face.” He chewed slowly. “While they’re alive.”

  “He’s sick.” She shook her head. “How can he verify that anyway?”

  “I think he’s ahead of us and scouts out the scene after we leave.”

  “He’s crazy.” She took the juice bottle he offered and slugged a drink. “What else?”

  “He said if we don’t do it, they’ll cut up Harry.”

  She stopped eating and stared at him.

  He shook his head. “The man and woman with Harry are amateurs so I don’t think it would be easy for them. You have to have a certain mentality for senseless torture. Either training, no values, or a disturbed mind. I couldn’t do it just for revenge.”

  “Good. I can’t either.” She glanced at him. “And I don’t think I’d be in love with someone who could.”

  Another thing was bothering him. “Let’s assume Garcia, Vincente, and Diego came here to meet with the ISIS terrorists. If so, they might have sent someone to check on Garcia if he didn’t answer calls, which means they might have already discovered that he’s dead.”

  “They won’t know it’s us.”

  “I don’t see how they could.” He chewed some nuts. “We continue for now. Before we kill Vincente and his men, I told the Colombian that we want Harry set up for the drop to Dale and Clay. They might be able to get to Harry before we have to do anything. It’s our best shot. The Colombian will call us by one.”

  They hung out there for another quarter hour. Steel worried that the Colombian had lied to him.

  But the phone rang on schedule.

  The Colombian sounded gruff. “It’s going to be in the mountains. Give me the phone number for Christie’s brothers. I’ll call them and tell them where to be. You can check with them in fifteen minutes. There is no way they are going to rescue Harry before you take out Vincente. You are running out of time.”

  Christie gave the Colombian Clay’s phone number and he hung up.

  Steel grimaced. “He’s boxing us in. I don’t trust him, but we have no choice. Wait a few minutes and call Clay.”

  Clay answered on the first ring, sounding relieved. “The Colombian told me to park on highway thirty-four before it enters the mountains and wait for further directions. I’m close to it and will call you when I get there.” He hung up.

  Clay called Christie back in ten minutes. “It’s freshly paved so it fits what Harry gave us. I’m thinking I’ll go in a few miles and see if I can spot anything. Dale is in another rental car so he can wait here in case I’m wrong.”

  Steel’s hopes rose. But he didn’t like the idea of Christie’s family at risk in three different locations. “Be careful, Clay. This guy is very smart and dangerous.”

  “Roger that. Talk soon.”

  Steel looked at Christie.

  She stopped chewing. “You’re worried.”

  “Seven men.” He didn’t state his deeper concern of her getting another injury or dying.

  She patted his hand. “You’re smarter and we’re a better team. And we’re desperate.” She slugged down some water. “What’s the plan?”

  “We watch their hotel and wait for them to leave. The Colombian said they’re going to visit a winery and Sequoia National Forest. The forest would be better for us, but I doubt they’ll go there in the rain. The winery would be harder and too public. We might have to wait until they leave and ambush them on the road.”

  He dreaded an Op like that. Too many risks and unknowns. It wouldn’t be a controlled situation.

  “Let’s put on the ponchos.” Christie opened the trunk and got them out. They were dark green.

  It took them fifteen minutes to reach the hotel address in Lemon Cove. The hotel had private grounds, and the entrance was a U-shaped drive up to the front door. Christie drove past it on the highway, and then pulled onto a frontage road adjacent to the property. The street was lined with trees. Perfect to park and wait.

  Steel called the hotel to verify that Victor Sanchez was still checked in. He was, and they settled in. The terrain was flat so Steel could watch the hotel entrance with the binoculars. The rain increased slightly.

  Two black sedans with dark tinted windows pulled into the hotel entrance. Through his binoculars Steel saw seven men and a woman in a yellow raincoat exit the cars. One of the men matched the photo of Vincente that the Colombian had sent them.

  They waited an hour. Finally there was movement. The black sedans left the hotel entrance.

  He put down the binoculars. “They’re on the move. Hang back.”

  The rain was steady now, the temperature in the upper forties. Steel thought about calling Jeffries but decided to wait. The sedans followed the winding highway northeast in the direction of Sequoia National Park. It surprised him.

  “Late afternoon on a weekday wit
h steady rain; there won’t be many visitors to hike the trails.” Christie followed the sedans at a distance.

  In a half hour the sedans reached the park entrance, stopping to get a permit. Christie waited until the cars drove in. Then she pulled up to the kiosk too. The park was open twenty-four-seven and the attendant gave them a trail map.

  “Why would they go here in the rain?” asked Steel. It felt too easy to him.

  “The woman. She’s never seen it. And she has a new raincoat so she’s making him go.” Christie smiled at him. “Women have power over their men, Steel.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Despite his concerns, he couldn’t help but marvel at the size of the trees and their majesty. He wished they were here under different circumstances. He hated what was coming. Worse, he didn’t want Christie here.

  “Stunning. I’ve always wanted to see these trees.” Her eyes showed no joy.

  For a few moments fury erupted inside him at the Colombian, but he let it go. Otherwise he would get sloppy and put them both at risk.

  The park road wound like a snake, the forest turning darker as they went deeper. The sedans repeatedly disappeared and reappeared ahead of them like phantoms among the massive pillars of red bark.

  They followed the winding road for another hour. Only a few cars passed them. They stopped before reaching the parking area for the General Sherman tree. The sedans continued on to a lot marked for the handicapped that was adjacent to the tree. Christie parked on the road a good distance away from the lot.

  Vincente and his girlfriend got out of the lead car with umbrellas. The girlfriend wore her bright yellow raincoat, Vincente a long black one. They posed together in front of the General Sherman tree as the driver from their SUV took photos. No one exited the second car.

  “Call Clay,” said Steel.

  Christie did, but Clay had no news.

  Steel didn’t like it. The Colombian wasn’t delivering. But they had little choice about it, other than refusal. And right now that didn’t feel wise. He could never face Christie if it resulted in Harry’s death. One more Op. Then either Jeffries, Clay, or Vincente would provide a way for them to get out from under the Colombian’s control.

  Christie leaned forward to gaze through the windshield at the height of the General Sherman tree. “That tree is thousands of years old, and yet humans think we’re so important.”

  “Sequoias are disease resistant and have the thickest bark of any tree.” He stared at the tree, feeling sick inside that they were in a place of serene beauty with violence waiting for them.

  Christie extended her hand and he held it.

  “I wish we were here with Rachel and my brothers,” she said. “I know you do too. We’ll have to come back.”

  “Yes.” He sat back. “Let’s kill Vincente only if we have to. If we can get the ISIS information, and Jeffries or your brothers can find Harry, we can end things here.” He vowed to make that happen.

  “The Colombian said this was the last hit.” Her tone didn't sound hopeful.

  “I don’t trust him either.”

  “We’ll have to find him, Jack, or he might release our photos to the cartel.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” He turned to her. “If Jeffries can find a relative for Marita that fits the Colombian, we’ll be able to end this.”

  The rain came down harder.

  Vincente and his entourage hurriedly got back into their car. Christie quickly drove north on the park road, stopping in a small turnaround. It didn’t matter, because the sedans drove south, back toward the entrance.

  Steel hoped they weren’t going to a winery now. “We might have to take them here on the road.”

  Christie quickly turned around and followed. But the sedans entered the parking lot for the Giant Forest Museum. The rain was heavy now, the parking lot dark and empty except for the two SUVs.

  This time Vincente and his girlfriend exited their sedan with their driver and another man. All four wore raincoats and carried umbrellas. The four men in the rear car also exited, also dressed in raincoats and holding umbrellas as they walked behind Vincente.

  The whole group followed a dirt trail into the Giant Forest. They quickly disappeared in the rain.

  Steel sat patiently, formulating a plan.

  Christie prodded his arm. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Let them get farther along on the trail. It will make things easier on us.”

  After ten minutes they pulled up the hoods on their ponchos, got out, and opened the trunk. Steel took the backpack Jeffries had given them and stuffed the G28 sniper rifle and its silencer inside it. Christie slid a knife into her back waistband. They both grabbed zip ties, spare mags, and silenced Glocks.

  Steel held his gun down by his leg, while Christie shoved hers into her waistband. She grabbed a SIG and carried it alongside her thigh.

  They walked down the trail. Steel stopped to glance at the trailhead map. Running through options, he suddenly knew what he wanted to do. He led Christie twenty yards in on the trail to the south side of a large tree.

  The rain beat against their ponchos with a steady patter. His voice was calm as he spoke.

  “Okay. The trail goes north, then east and loops clockwise back to here. Go off the trail immediately, heading northeast. Eventually you should be able to see the girl’s yellow raincoat. Find a good place to target the trail and stay put.

  “I’m going off-trail due east to get ahead of them on the trail. I’ll move fast, and with the sniper rifle I hope to even the odds. There’s a good chance they’ll run back to the exit once I begin shooting, and you can target them from off the trail.” He paused. “Promise me you won’t engage them until I do. We have a big advantage with surprise and we want to maximize it.”

  She rested a hand on his chest. “I promise, Steel.”

  “If anything looks wrong or suspicious, hide and wait for me to come to you.”

  “I will.” Her eyes didn’t waver off his.

  “No mercy. Don’t worry about saving Vincente if it puts you in danger. Stay low, be careful.” He looked at her eyes—steady. “Ready?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  He hugged her, and then left, moving fast, using the large trees for cover. Unable to take his mind off her for the first minute, the terrain quickly forced him to focus. The ground was slippery and he couldn’t see clearly for more than fifty feet.

  Running around the giant sequoias made him realize how an ant must feel crawling past the foot of a human. The forest felt like something out of Alice in Wonderland. Surreal. Even more so because he was hunting people amid this beauty.

  Ferns, grass, and undergrowth covered the ground and the forest birds were silent in the rain. Pine trees filled inbetween the scattered sequoias, but little of their scent reached him through the rain.

  The rain pelted his face, shoes, and lower legs. Yet he remained mostly dry.

  In a quarter mile he came upon a big tree with a knot at its base about five feet high. Tucking the Glock into his belt, he climbed up to stand atop the knot. There he took out the G28 and attached the silencer.

  Slowly he scanned the woods ahead and to the north with the rifle. Nothing. The rain made it difficult to see much. However the yellow raincoat of Vincente’s girlfriend would stand out even at a distance.

  He climbed down and walked around the tree to take another view with the rifle to the north. Still nothing. Deciding to continue, he ran parallel to the trail.

  His plan was to hit Vincente and his men hard. Kill all of them if he could. Without Christie’s help.

  It was a risk, and she would be angry with him later, but he couldn’t stomach seeing her wounded again or worse. He would use the rifle to box Vincente and his men in. If one or two managed to escape via the trail, he felt confident Christie could handle the
m.

  He had adjusted to the fact that she was a pro. However she was injured, which always compromised skill sets. Thus he planned to make sure Vincente and his men all died before they reached her. Ironically, even without the Colombian blackmailing them, he wanted to kill these men for what they had done to Marita. Their depravity had set all of this insanity into motion.

  In another five minutes he stopped again to view the trail west and north, expecting to see the girlfriend’s yellow jacket. He didn’t see anyone. Triggers went off in his head. The odds of not seeing anyone were low.

  Abruptly the visit to Sequoia National Park in heavy rain felt like a set-up. Vincente had known they were coming. How? Panic hit him as he ran due north. He had sent Christie into a trap.

  CHAPTER 20

  Christie had as difficult a time separating from Steel as he did from her. But it would be foolish to stay together. Knowing he was out there, moving ahead of her, gave her confidence that they could do this. And if Dale and Clay could rescue Harry, then there was only the Colombian left to deal with.

  She watched Steel disappear before she ran off the trail into the rain. Her shoes had good soles but she was still careful. She didn’t want to lose her balance on the wet ground.

  Every time she saw a massive sequoia she felt awe, but those sentiments were rapidly shed as she hunted the killers. Darting from tree to tree, she constantly scanned northwest and north for moving figures, searching for the girlfriend’s yellow raincoat or anything else that might yield the whereabouts of Vincente’s thugs.

  After a half mile she slowed. To the north the path remained hidden by rain and low ground cover. She saw a hint of yellow. Impulsively she gripped the SIG and stopped on the east side of a sequoia, trying to think about the situation like Steel would.

  The yellow coat wasn’t moving. Maybe Vincente and his men were standing beneath a tree, waiting to see if the rain would ease up.

  Another idea sent shivers down her back. Maybe the girlfriend had taken the coat off and they were using it as bait to draw them closer. That would mean Vincente had found out about them.