Steel Assassin

by Geoffrey Saign

  “General Morris woke up. He said Angel tried to save him, but that doesn’t change things.” Jeffries was silent a few moments. “Angel gets a chance to redeem himself by helping you kill Diego. But then he’s ours. Where are you going?”

  “California. He wouldn’t say where.”

  Jeffries’ tone was terse. “I expect a call as soon as you know.”

  Steel hung up, deciding not to say anything to Angel. He left the burner phone with Christie and took another from Wyatt's armory. He didn't want Jeffries tracking him.

  Lucas made a check-in call to Diego on speaker before they left, telling him that Angel was dead and that he was bringing Steel to him in Angel’s car.

  Angel held a knife to Lucas’ throat while he talked. Lucas was told beforehand that if things went well, they would let him live. Steel didn’t think anyone, including Lucas, believed that. But when facing death it was natural that you grasped at any opportunity to stay alive.

  Diego told Lucas that he didn’t have to call again until he was an hour away.

  Angel drove his Chevy SS, with Carlos in the front passenger seat. Steel sat in back with Lucas, who had his hands zip-tied behind his back, zip ties on his ankles, and his seat belt on. Duct tape covered his mouth.

  Steel remained silent, thinking of Christie. Tears had rolled down her cheeks because she worried he wouldn’t survive the last assault. Her injury left no room for debate about her coming. He wouldn’t have allowed it anyway.

  He had said goodbye, leaving no doubt that they were through. His ex-wife, Carol, had paid a price while he was in Blackhood Ops, but Christie’s price had been even higher.

  Still a pain had settled into his chest. He had to ignore it if he wanted to function at the level needed for what was coming.

  They had a sixteen–hour ride ahead of them to Diego’s ranch in northern California and would arrive sometime after ten p.m.

  Carlos broke the silence an hour into the trip. He turned to Angel. “You’re driving fast. You want to get there early.”

  Angel nodded. “Yes. An hour early so we have an edge. Diego is paranoid and will be ready far ahead of time. Every advantage will help.”

  Carlos pulled out his Glock and rested it on his lap, aiming it at Angel. “You’re a killer and deserve to die.”

  Angel remained quiet as he drove, watching the road.

  Steel stiffened. “We need him, Carlos. We’ll never find Diego in time on our own. Our families will be at risk.”

  “I have a hard time looking at you, Angel.” Carlos said it matter-of-factly. “You killed my son, Juan, as if he was nothing.”

  “There was no honor in what I did.” Angel sat back. “My parents were killed by the cartel for not selling their farm to them when I was ten years old. And I ended up joining the cartel as a young man. I think my anger made me feel violence was justified.”

  Angel sighed. “I didn’t participate in Marita’s death, and I am glad I didn’t hurt Isabella. I began to feel during this vendetta that I couldn’t do this work anymore, but unfortunately my realization was not in time for Juan.”

  For another minute Carlos kept the gun aimed at him, and then put it away. He was silent and didn’t speak for a long time.

  They took turns driving and sleeping.

  Twelve hours later Angel was again behind the wheel, driving, and Carlos asked, “Who are you trying to save?”

  “My sister, Renata. She’s confined to a wheelchair and depends on me. She has no one else. I took a risk having Lucas tell Diego I was dead, because he might kill her.”

  Carlos looked out his window. “My son, Pedro, is going to live, so I am going to put this vendetta business away. But if I ever see you again, I cannot promise that I will not kill you. I bear some of the responsibility for bringing my children into this, and now I just want it over. If Diego and his men and their vendetta die today, then I will have to live with Juan’s death. Killing you will never bring my dear son back to me.”

  Angel grimaced. “I will have to live with knowing I have deprived you of someone you loved as much as I love Renata.”

  Steel said grudgingly, “You tried to save General Morris.”

  Angel spoke softly. “Sí. But I failed there too.”

  Steel leaned back. “Our military informed me that General Morris lived. His mother was killed.”

  Angel lifted his chin. “Then that gives me some satisfaction.”

  Steel didn’t want to say his next words, but felt Carlos needed to hear them. He didn’t want him to put a bullet into Angel before they took Diego. “You saved Clay and Christie today.”

  “A debt to pay for killing their brother.” Angel glanced at Steel in the rearview mirror. “Your military will hunt me, correct?”

  “They’ll wait until after we hit Diego.”

  “I expected as much.” Angel tapped the steering wheel. “I offer you this, Carlos. If Renata dies today, you can kill me. I will have no heart to go on.”

  Carlos stared at him, and then turned away. “Then I would be just like you. I think it’s better if your ghosts haunt you.” He paused. “Let’s be honest. None of us trust each other.”

  No one contradicted him.

  Angel was silent for a half hour, and then he glanced over his shoulder at Steel. “I am jealous of you, Steel. You have a courageous woman that loves you, and you live a life of honor. That is something to treasure.”

  Unable to answer, Steel remained silent. Angel’s words caused more pain than he expected.

  “I had a wife that loved me,” said Carlos. “She was always under threat from the cartels when I worked in Colombia, but she accepted the risk. Ironically she died from cancer and not a bullet.”

  Steel leaned forward. “How did you handle that, putting her in constant danger?”

  “It was her choice to love me and stay with me, and I couldn’t dishonor her wishes.”

  ***

  Diego’s ranch was north of Hopland, a small town in northern California. Angel explained it was a vineyard and horse ranch of two-hundred-fifty acres, including a ten-thousand-square-foot villa, a guest house, pool house, and worker buildings.

  Angel continued. “He also owns the surrounding land so he has complete privacy. The driveway into the villa is on the north end, but a dirt road exits the property on the south end too. There is an outdoor horse arena there. That’s where Diego takes his enemies for sport.”

  Steel didn’t like it. The situation wasn’t contained and provided too many opportunities for someone to escape.

  When they left San Francisco, heading north, Angel said, “We’re an hour early so we don’t need Lucas to check in with Diego.” He paused. “I have a plan.”

  “You know Diego’s setup,” said Steel. “What do you recommend?”

  “The Russian River flows along the back of his property, with trees on either side of it. Right across from the villa at this time of year it is low, easy to cross. There’s a farm service road on the other side of the river that parallels it. We drop you off there, Steel, then Carlos on the south side of the vineyard. I will leave the car on the dirt road leading into the north driveway and go in on foot from there.

  “I know the routine of the guards and can make sure none escape out front. Diego will have at least twenty men. If even one of these men get out, you and your families and me and Renata will be hunted forever. Kill anyone on the grounds. No one here is innocent.”

  Carlos scoffed at him. “Does that include migrant workers, maids…whoever we find?”

  Angel didn’t hesitate. “Workers will not be on the grounds now. Diego will have sent everyone home that is not part of his organization. So yes, anyone there should be killed.”

  Carlos faced forward. “I do not kill the innocent.”

  Steel was glad to hear Carlos voice his own values but kept that to
himself. He would reach the villa first, which put more pressure on him to save Angel’s sister. He wasn’t sure he wanted that responsibility.

  Angel lifted his chin to him. “I trust you, Steel. Whatever happens, no one is to blame. I let Diego capture Renata.”

  Carlos grunted. “Let’s do it.”

  Angel stopped on a dirt road. “We’re here.”

  The river was visible to the west. There was a full moon with some clouds still blocking most of the light. Steel got out, needing to stretch and yawn to wake up. Carlos and Angel did the same.

  Angel opened up the trunk and dragged Lucas out of the car. They took the weapons bag out, shoved Lucas into the trunk, and shut it.

  Steel grabbed a SIG, a Glock, and a Rattler, all silenced, with extra mags that he stuffed into his coat pockets, along with a night vision monocular. He gestured to the car trunk. “Lucas?”

  Angel shook his head. “We’ll kill him on the property, not here.” He turned to Carlos. “You should know that Lucas and his men participated in defiling and killing your niece. His death is in your hands.”

  Carlos’ eyes narrowed. “You waited to tell me to make sure I wouldn’t kill him earlier.”

  “Sí.” He turned to Steel. “Wait until you hear us draw their fire.”

  “Will do.” Steel gripped the Glock and Rattler and hurried off the road.

  Angel drove away with Carlos.

  Crouching, Steel ran across a short field, heading toward the thick tree line along the river. Once there, he moved from tree to tree, using the monocular to see if Diego had guards this far east of the villa. None were visible. He spotted a gravel sandbar, where the river narrowed and appeared passable.

  Taking off his shoes and socks, he rolled up his pants. A Western screech-owl gave its accelerating bouncing-ball call in a series of short hoots. He couldn’t spot it in the trees around him.

  A normal life.

  One more job.

  He hurried down the short bank and into the river. Only a foot deep and moving slow, it was still cool. After walking through twenty feet of water he reached the sandbar. Hurrying up the opposing river bank and into the tree line, he sat there to put on his socks and shoes.

  Twenty feet away, on the shore of the river a raccoon was washing something in the water.

  Rising in a crouch, Steel peered west. The villa was a white silhouette four hundred yards away. Remaining low, he ran through rows of grapevines to a small grove of trees. On the other side of the trees a strip of grass lawn ran up to the rear patio of the Mediterranean-styled villa.

  He spotted two guards, two hundred feet apart, on the north and south corners of the villa. They would be able to see each other, and alert everyone if one went down. It bothered him that only two guards were stationed out back. If Diego was truly paranoid, two guards didn’t fit the scenario of a villa on high alert. The south guard was closest and carried an AK-47.

  Dropping to one knee, he scanned the surrounding area for any hidden guards. He spotted one above the north guard, standing in the shadows of a second-story balcony alcove. Moving from tree to tree, he stopped twenty feet from the north corner guard. From his vantage point he could see the balcony guard too.

  However there was no clear shot through the trees to the south corner guard. He would have to take the balcony guard first. North guard second, south last.

  Keeping his back to a tree, he listened for a sign that Angel or Carlos had begun their assault.

  CHAPTER 60

  Carlos crouched, the M40 held in both hands. The field had a slight downward slope so he had a good view of the villa a quarter mile away. It also meant he would be visible should someone look in his direction.

  He ran between grapevine rows until he was a quarter mile farther in. Then he knelt, keeping his head just below the vines. The scent of rich dirt filled his nostrils. Angel had asked him to wait ten minutes before he attacked.

  All around him clumps of deep purple grapes hung thick on the vines in large clusters. He picked one grape and tasted it, the juice tart in his mouth.

  Considering how much his children’s lives would be affected if he failed, he was determined to kill Diego. Diego and Lucas were also the last of the men who had tortured and killed Marita.

  To think that he was working with the assassin who had killed Juan seemed sick to him, but without Angel, he and Steel would not succeed. They needed the killer’s skills and knowledge of Diego. He would put a bullet in Angel later tonight.

  He checked his watch. It was time.

  Using the rifle’s night vision scope, he surveyed the north driveway leading up to the estate and the area around the front of the villa. Six men. He swung the scope away from the house, south along the river frontage road to the horse stables and arena. No one.

  He heard noise from the north driveway and angled his rifle back along the way he had swung it. Halfway across the field, he stopped abruptly.

  A man was kneeling in the vineyard, a hundred yards from him, aiming a rifle in the direction of the driveway. Carlos shot him once in the back, and the man went down.

  Swinging the rifle toward the house, he was alarmed. The men he had seen earlier had disappeared. They would have heard the shot, but it seemed unlikely that they all had reacted that fast. He needed to get closer.

  Rising slightly, but remaining in a crouch, he zigzagged toward the villa. Stopping approximately where he had shot the man, he knelt, checking up and down the rows of vines. The man had disappeared. A sinking feeling in his gut matched his tense limbs.

  Five men stood up in the field around him, aiming guns at him.

  “Drop the gun.”

  Knowing they were going to kill him, he ignored the command. Deciding who to kill first, he planned to fall on his back and start shooting.

  A sharp electrical sensation hit his legs and the rifle slid from his hands. He dropped to the ground, realizing he had been Tasered. They were on him in seconds, hitting and kicking him until he lost consciousness.

  ***

  A quarter mile from the north driveway, Angel parked the Chevy SS on the side of the road. Grapevines grew south of the road, a line of large oak trees on the north side.

  Opening his door, he got out, immediately spying the toe of a boot sticking out from behind a tree. It was quickly pulled out of sight. He understood what was coming, but there was nothing he could do.

  A dozen men slipped out of the shadows of the trees, and out of the vineyard, all aiming guns at him.

  Raising his hands, he smiled and said, “Tell Diego I have a gift for him in the trunk.”

  They approached him quickly, taking the keys out of his hands. Leaving the trunk of his car closed, they herded him into the back bed of a pickup truck and made him lie facedown. He was aware of someone driving the Chevy SS behind them.

  Lucas must have tipped off Diego in the check-in call. However the fact that they had left Lucas in the trunk suggested Diego had other information too. From Renata? He had no idea what she had said to Diego, but he doubted he or his sister would live to see the morning.

  What saddened him most was that he had failed Renata. She would never have a chance at a new life, free of violence and sick men. Ironically, until recently he had been one of those sick men.

  CHAPTER 61

  Steel watched as the pickup truck, loaded with men, swept around the curve in the road a hundred feet south of the house. It headed away from him, south along the river. Some men in the truck were firing guns into the air.

  Angel’s Chevy SS and two SUVs followed. It suggested they had captured Angel, and perhaps Carlos too. He had to move fast to take advantage of the gunfire.

  Keeping the Glock in his right hand, the Rattler in his left, he waited for the guard to stroll past him to the north so his back would be to him. Striding out of the trees, he aimed at the balcony guard
and shot him the same moment the guard spotted him. Pivoting, he put a bullet into the turning north corner guard. Dropping the Glock, he went to one knee, brought up the Rattler, and fired a quick burst at the south guard who was turning toward him.

  The guard fell dead.

  Picking up the Glock, he ran around the north side of the villa, gun extended. There was only one guard, running toward him, his rifle facing sideways. Steel shot him twice, and then stopped in front of the villa and knelt. Using the monocular scope, he scrutinized the nearby beach house, the driveway all the way west—what little he could see through the bordering trees—and the northern vineyards.

  He swung the monocular along the same path in reverse and saw movement far out in the southern vineyard. A group of men were dragging someone toward the stopped pickup truck. Had to be Carlos. Diego’s men were still shooting off guns. But even if they hadn't heard his shots, they would check in with the villa guards soon.

  He hurried to the front door. Unlocked.

  Striding inside, he already guessed what he would find. He needed to be sure. A high ceiling, tiled floor, chandelier, large paintings, and decorative furniture gave the entryway an image of refinement. The complete opposite image of the crude and brutal Diego.

  On the far end of the room was the back door. To the right a large open stairway led up to a short, second-floor balcony that connected hallways on either side. Moving across the large entryway, he stopped even with the central corridor and checked left and right.

  Right led to the kitchen. A soft ceiling light lit up a massive butcher block. At the end of the left hallway he saw another larger room, which was also half-lit.

  Going left, he kept close to one side of the hallway, pointing the Glock ahead of him. Closed doors appeared on both sides in the corridor. He moved past them, speedily reaching the end, where he peered around the corner. Another large room, empty except for expensive sofas and high-backed chairs.

  The corridor continued on the other side of it to another darkened part of the villa. He went faster then, through all the rooms on the first floor, ignoring the kitchen, then up the stairs and through the second floor.