Steel Assassin

by Geoffrey Saign

  Steel stared like everyone else at the large arsenal of guns, rifles, machine guns, scopes, night vision gear, ammo, and other ordnance.

  “Take whatever you like.” Wyatt grabbed one of the sawed offs—a Mossberg Shockwave—a G28, and night vision goggles, setting it all to the side. He nodded. “I like to be prepared for anything. I’ve got Kevlar vests for everyone in another locker. Be sure you take enough ammo. I also have wireless radios with throat mikes so we can all communicate in whispers if necessary.”

  “Now we’re talking.” Clay rubbed his hands together.

  Carlos picked up an M40, an older bolt-action sniper rifle based on the Remington 700. M40s had eventually been replaced by the Mk 13 for the Marines and Special Operations snipers for longer range targets in countries like Afghanistan.

  Carlos shook his head. “Amigo, you’re ready for an army.”

  Wyatt clapped him on the back. “Always. Let’s go over the tunnel system in case you need to use it.” He patted Christie’s shoulder. “Then I’ll show you the security system.”

  Walking a little farther, Wyatt stopped by the shooting range but turned his back to it. In the north wall there were built-in shelves, and on the inside bottom corners of each shelf were wood supporting brackets. Below the third shelf from the top he pulled the bracket out, revealing a black button which he depressed. He then snapped the bracket back in place.

  A four-by-six-foot section of flooring along the wall slid back, revealing stairs going down.

  “I’ll keep this open while we’re in the tunnels so we can move fast. To close it you just hit the button a second time.” Wyatt led them down to the lower level.

  Large and finished, it had a steel wall with a steel door blocking off half of it. Wyatt punched a code on the keypad by the door, used his fingerprint, and opened the four-inch-thick door.

  A panic room. Complete with food-lined shelves, a corner latrine, dry goods, and other necessities.

  Steel was impressed. “You’ve thought of everything, Wyatt.”

  Wyatt smiled. “If we need to, we can hole up here for weeks. I can contact the outside, and I’ve got a hidden tunnel in here. But I don’t think we’re going to need it.”

  He closed the door and led them to a bookshelf in the northwest corner.

  “Here’s how it works.” He pulled the bookshelf out from the wall. It swung easily on hinges, revealing another steel door with no handles and a keypad. “Here’s the code.” He punched the number slowly for all of them to see and continued talking.

  “Then I use my fingerprint on the pad. I turned off that feature so any of you can use the tunnel system. There’s also a locked door at the bottom of every exit shaft. Use the same code to open them. Just remember, if you leave any doors open, anyone can enter from the outside. The rule is that tunnel doors are always kept closed.”

  Pushing the door open, he revealed a dark, bricked tunnel. “This leads west thirty feet to a crossroads leading south and north a hundred yards. You end up south of the field a good distance or up the north hill. If you go south, you’ll first come to another junction leading left below the meadow to the base of the east hill.”

  He looked at all of them. “Happy hunting.”

  ***

  Steel worked the ropes in the barn and then moved to the virtual reality station. The preceding days of too little sleep had left a residual effect on his ability to respond. He wanted his body sharp when the pack arrived.

  Wyatt’s state-of-the-art virtual reality station was much like his. Sensors high on the wall at the four corners of a very large floor pad allowed room-scale tracking. A wireless motion-tracking controller completed the setup.

  Wyatt had confided in him before the others had arrived that he had supplied the VR program and tech to the Army’s Blackhood Ops, retiring after that project was completed. Upon hearing that, Steel was even more impressed with Wyatt’s skills.

  He put on the full-body haptic suit, boots, gloves, a headpiece, and goggles, and ran several VR sims in a dark forest with multiple attackers. The suit delivered pain on a scale he could select, and also simulated flat or uneven surfaces, hills, and temperatures.

  He ran scenarios with guns and hand-to-hand combat with two to eight attackers for several hours, as he had for over three years. The workouts over the last few days had sharpened his reflexes enough that he felt ready. When he finished, he stretched his legs and back.

  Christie and Clay spent the time with Wyatt at the computer station, going over the laser and camera feeds, how to switch computer screens to different cameras, and how to activate the automated spike strips and explosives buried in the driveway.

  A little after ten p.m. Jeffries called Steel with news of an attack on General Morris that had just occured. Morris had managed to call an ambulance, even though he had taken a bullet. The general was in the hospital, unconscious and in critical condition. Steel told everyone to go to bed. Given that Morris was two thousand miles away, there would be no attack tonight.

  ***

  The next day everyone traded off on keeping watch, exercising, and waiting. By late afternoon Colonel Jeffries called. There had been an attack on the New York subway, but the terrorists had blown themselves up in a mostly empty car when confronted by SWAT. Only two passengers had died. More people had been injured at Skywalk, but Steel was glad to hear only one had died. Disney World was the last target. They were going to keep the amusement park open.

  Later Steel walked with Christie on Wyatt’s land adjacent to the house. The air was cool and they both wore light coats. The scent of the pine trees was strong.

  Somewhere above them a Steller’s jay gave its harsh, scolding call. In the distance a buck deer stared at them.

  Christie held his hand.

  “You don’t think we can do this.” She stopped, staring at him.

  He leaned against a tree, pulling her in close. “We still have to find Diego and take out him and all of his men before they return to Colombia or Mexico. If they get out of the country, this will never be over. Then we’ll have to go into witness protection.”

  She pressed into him. “You know what I think?”

  “What?” He stared into her eyes.

  “We’ll be okay. There’s enough of us here. Even if Angel is with them, they have no clue what this place is like. If we keep one of them alive, we can find out where Diego is and go there tomorrow.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” He swallowed.

  “What else? I can see it in your eyes, Jack.”

  “Your brother thinks I’m too much of a risk for you.” He agreed with that sentiment. The more he had thought about it the more he had been driven to the same inescapable conclusion.

  Christie scoffed. “Clay has always felt protective of everyone in our family. I’m going to talk to my brothers. They’ll be okay. They can’t say much when Harry might be falling in love with someone who almost killed him.”

  “I agree with Clay. All of this mess is because of my past life in Blackhood Ops. Dale’s death, your injuries, the threat to your whole family is—”

  She cut him off. “You were protecting our country. You risked your life. Your job is to stop terrorists. I can accept the risk that brings.”

  “I can’t.” He looked away. “I think of Rachel and Carol, what I’ve put them through.”

  “Steel.” Her tone was strong. “You are who you are, and that’s why I love you. You’ve done nothing wrong. This is probably the only loose end from all your Ops that could come back to haunt you, so let’s end it.”

  He hugged her tightly, and then pulled back. “When I go after Diego, you’re not coming.” The sadness filled his chest again.

  Her lips twisted as she stared at him. “What else?”

  “After tonight we need to go our own ways.”

  She stared at him, op
en-mouthed. “You’re saying we’re through?”

  “Yeah.”

  The setting sun sent red hues through the clouds.

  CHAPTER 50

  Angel slept for the first twelve hours of the drive. It was uncomfortable, but when he woke up he felt rested.

  His watch said ten a.m. He stretched, moved his body as much as possible, and thought about how to save Renata and kill Diego. In late evening he settled down again for another short sleep. When he woke the second time it was three a.m.

  He estimated they would be near Butte, Montana. In another hour it sounded as if they had turned onto a gravel road. Not much longer after that the car stopped.

  Listening carefully, he heard car doors open and shut. No one talked. They had to be arming themselves. Since he had trained all of them, he guessed they would have night vision goggles, Kevlar vests, AK-47 rifles with thirty-round mags, knives, radio gear, and pistols. Probably tear gas and smoke canisters on chest straps as well.

  A final light bang—a trunk shutting—and then quiet. Waiting another minute, he began working.

  When he had the trunk modified, he also made sure he had a way out in case this scenario occurred. On the passenger side, in the front part of the wheel well, there was a piece of smooth metal. He pressed it as hard as he could. It was kept in place by a strong spring and bent in just enough to reveal a small compartment. He couldn’t see it, but reached in with his other hand, grabbed the trunk emergency handle that was there, and pulled. There was a small click.

  He turned onto his side to face the back of the car. With his right foot he raised the trunk. No guard.

  He climbed out quietly, relieved to be out of the confinement of the trunk. There were two other cars parked on the side of the dirt road, one in front of his and one behind.

  Closing the lid, he twisted the small decal on the trunk that hid the number pad for the secret compartment. Punching in the code, he had it open and his silenced Glocks in hand in seconds. There were two extra magazines, which he pocketed.

  Running up the adjacent hill, he was glad for the pine tree cover. He liked the quiet, the distant dark shadows of mountains against the lighter sky, and the stars in the sky. There was some moonlight, but scattered clouds blocked much of it.

  The air was cool, the ground soft and quiet too. Perfect.

  In the distance an owl gave a loud oowhoo! several times. Renata would love it.

  It reminded him of his father’s farm. He and Renata often had sat on the porch at night—listening to the jungle and talking —before their parents were killed. A flash of rage at the cartel erupted inside him, surprising him. Perhaps he was finally ready to pay them back.

  Taking a deep breath, he sorted out his priorities.

  He needed Lucas alive for the check-in calls when they drove to Diego. Steel had to die so the man wouldn’t hunt him forever. His agreement with Steel had to be broken. Weighed against Renata’s life, it was a small price to pay. He couldn’t see any way out of it. Everyone else was expendable.

  Lucas and Steel were both very skilled. And for once he did not have Renata’s guidance in a dangerous situation. For the first time in decades he didn’t relish the challenge that lay ahead of him.

  CHAPTER 51

  Christie watched the monitors with Clay, who seemed content to sit in a chair with his hands locked behind his head, his eyes closed. It was four a.m. She was tired of watching camera feeds too, but it still annoyed her.

  What really bothered her was sitting inside while Steel was risking his life. His decision to end their relationship didn’t feel real, but he meant it. She also believed he loved her deeply and felt he had to protect her. In that respect he was just like Clay. Stupid.

  She turned to her brother, her voice strained. “Jack said we’re through.”

  Sitting up, he opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, Christie. I really am. But maybe it’s—”

  “For the best?” She bit off the words. “Damn your arrogance, Clay! How would Meera feel if you dumped her while you were in Afghanistan? How do you think I feel? Have you ever asked yourself that?”

  “It was his choice, Christie.”

  “You didn’t help, Clay, always rubbing it in his face that it was his fault I was hurt, his fault Dale died, his fault for everything. Judge, jury, executioner. You’re perfect, Clay.”

  He cleared his throat, got to his feet, and walked up to her. “Okay, Steel’s a lot like me. Protective to a fault. But if I was in his shoes, maybe I’d do the same thing if it was Meera instead of you.”

  “Don’t you think Meera and I worry just as much about our men? Jack could have died at Skywalk and I didn’t even know he was there.” Her eyes misted. “I love him, Clay. He’s every bit as important to me as Meera is to you.”

  He gently held her shoulders. “Then fight for him, sis.”

  “I plan to.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m not letting him off this easy. And by the way, do men always have such rotten timing on these things?”

  “I think so.”

  A sensor beeped and she brought up the camera feed for the north perimeter.

  Clay looked at the wall monitors, put on his radio, and talked into his throat mike. “Heads up, Steel and Mario, you have a group coming in from the north.”

  Christie donned her radio too. “I count a dozen men.” She frowned over the numbers. “Moving fast with night vision gear.”

  Another sensor beeped. The driveway.

  She pulled up the camera positioned a hundred feet in on the driveway. The road was straight, three-quarters of a mile long, and ran through pine forest. “Intruders coming up the driveway.”

  She grimaced. Angel had not only lied to Steel, he had also brought a small army with him. They couldn’t let anyone drive up to the house or Steel and Mario wouldn’t have a chance.

  The vehicles appeared moments later. The two lead SUVs were larger than the third.

  “Three SUVs driving fast.” She turned to Clay. “Time it!”

  He waited two seconds and then hit the switch for the spike strips. Her face taut, Christie watched the monitor.

  The lead SUV hit the second strip and veered off the road, its tires shredded. It managed to stop upright in the grass. The second SUV hit the first strip, tilted, and fell onto its side, sliding along the dirt.

  Swerving off the road, the last SUV plowed through brush until it was past the spike strips. Then it veered back onto the road.

  Christie’s limbs stiffened. A dozen men exited the two stopped vehicles, all holding machine guns and wearing night vision gear. Three men fell to the ground before they got off the road. Wyatt.

  The rest of the men speedily disappeared into the forest.

  “Nine men coming in on the west side of the driveway with night vision gear and machine guns,” she said.

  Steel and Mario hadn’t responded so she assumed they were already moving to engage the first group. On the camera feeds she watched the remaining SUV accelerate down the driveway.

  “Keep going,” she murmured. “Get ready, Clay.”

  “On it.” He kept his finger on the switch, waiting for the sensor to alert him to throw it.

  The SUV reached the meadow and veered off the road into the grass bordering the driveway. It was going to pass right by the buried explosives.

  “How did they guess that?” asked Christie.

  “Smart.” Clay watched the monitor.

  “Carlos!” Christie watched as the SUV veered erratically back onto the road, and then in seconds swerved toward the grass again.

  “The driver and front passenger are down,” said Carlos.

  “Good shooting, Carlos,” whispered Christie.

  The sensor for the explosives lit up on the computer console. Clay flipped the switch.

  The blast barely hit the front left fender of the SUV, t
hrowing dirt and smoke into the air. Veering sideways off the road, the vehicle managed to stay upright with its front tire blown. It came to a sudden stop and men piled out.

  Christie counted four exiting the SUV; one toppled immediately into the grass. Carlos again.

  The other three killers crouched and ran through the meadow. They had deciphered Carlos’ position from the shots and kept the SUV between them and his location. In seconds they would reach the cars parked in front of the house. Then they would either try to breach the house or barn.

  Christie worried they would go up the hill after Steel.

  “I’m coming up behind the group from the SUVs, Carlos,” said Wyatt. “South of the tunnel exit.”

  “I’ll stay here and we can pick them off when they’re out in the open.” Carlos sounded assured.

  “I’ll be ready,” said Wyatt.

  Christie ran from the computer station toward the open armory safe.

  Clay shut off his radio. “Where are you going, Christie?”

  Not wanting to distract Steel and the others with their chatter, she shut off her radio too. “That’s way more than they can handle, Clay.”

  He hastily followed her. “Steel said we need to stay inside.”

  “I’m not going to do them any good in here. You’ve got two boys at home, Clay. You stay here and coordinate everyone.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m not going to sit around and watch monitors while you risk your life.”

  She took off her windbreaker, put on body armor, and covered it with the jacket. Grabbing a silenced SIG Sauer P320 compact and Rattler, she stuffed extra mags for both into her pockets. Lastly she put on night vision gear.

  Clay stood by her, already pulling his jacket over a Kevlar vest. He picked out an HK416 assault rifle with an optical scope, a SIG, and extra mags.

  She faced him. “Do you want north or south?”

  “Since you’re injured, the hill will be easier for me so I’ll take north. You go to the southern tunnel exit, hook up with Wyatt, and hit the men in the meadow.”