Steel Assassin

by Geoffrey Saign

  All empty.

  He ran down the stairs, stopping abruptly at the bottom, detecting movement at the end of the corridor leading to the kitchen. A man and woman in their thirties stood side by side, facing him. Striding toward them, gun raised, he saw they were unarmed. “Who are you?”

  “Cook and maid,” said the man.

  He had to kill them. Leaving even one person alive meant the cartel might come after their families. Had they heard anything about Angel? Had they listened to Diego talking about him? His finger tightened on the trigger.

  The cook wrapped his arms around the maid and they both closed their eyes. “Please, señor.”

  Remembering Angel’s words, he felt conflicted over the possibility of shooting someone who was innocent. In the end he couldn’t live with it and backed away from them into the entryway room.

  Glancing at the front door and opposite corridor, he hurried to the back door. In the glass door he saw reflections. He hurled himself to the right, twisting and falling to his back as he raised his Glock and fired. Glass shattered above his head.

  It was the cook and maid, both holding guns. He shot them multiple times.

  After staring at their crumpled bodies, he rose and hurried out the back door and ran for the trees bordering the river. Once among them he ran as hard as he could, paralleling the frontage dirt road.

  A quarter mile down he reached the next set of buildings, which appeared to serve as storage for equipment. Gunshots to the south made him run harder.

  He wasn’t going to be able to do anything unless he was willing to die. He owed his life to his daughter Rachel more than to Angel or Carlos. Still, if Diego lived the cartel leader would hunt his family, Christie’s, and hire terrorists.

  Letting it go, he settled into a smooth rhythm of flying legs and arms.

  Another shot.

  He passed a gun range that was empty. But it would explain away any shots that even distant neighbors happened to hear.

  In another hundred yards, stables and a corral appeared. The arena was thirty yards farther south. It was easily big enough for rodeo and riding competitions. A distant line of trees to the south and west further isolated it from prying eyes.

  A few small trees grew a short distance from the corners of the arena providing shade, along with two roofed wooden stands on the west corners. One of the stands looked big enough for a small band. The other had a grilling station.

  On the east side, closer to him, was a large viewing stage for an audience. It had three open sides, a roof, and was three feet above the ground.

  High outdoor lamps lit the arena.

  He hid behind a tree, counting ten of Diego’s men standing around the arena’s three-board, five-foot-high fence. All armed with pistols, shotguns, or AK-47s. The audience on the stage was hidden to him. But if Diego was as paranoid as Angel said, he would have the rest of his men surrounding him there.

  Without hesitating he ran across the bare ground to the closest clump of trees adjacent to the arena’s northeast corner. Risky, but he needed to see more if he was going to do anything. Shadows and the night gave him cover.

  He reached the trees and no shouts arose, so he examined the stage. Diego stood in the middle of it, smiling, a microphone in his hand. Ten men—five on either side of him—all held machine guns.

  Scanning the fence, Steel now counted a dozen men. Two had been standing in the shadows of the corners.

  A black tarp covered something in the arena’s southeast corner.

  Carlos lay in the center of the arena on his back. Angel stood close to him, facing the stage. Lucas knelt in front of them, also facing the stage, his wrists and ankles still bound with zip ties, his mouth taped.

  What bothered Steel most was Angel’s sister.

  Renata sat in a wheelchair, twenty feet to the left of Angel. The lighting showed off her long dark hair and her beautiful face with delicately chiseled features. Her body seemed thin and frail in the chair. A simple but elegant dress covered her from her neck to her ankles. She was staring at Angel, her face taut.

  Another shot rang out as one of the men along the fence targeted the dirt near Angel’s feet. Angel didn’t flinch and ignored the shooter, while staring at the stage.

  As Steel watched, Angel flicked his left pinkie up and down three times, as if he was signaling him. That Angel had spotted him was impressive, but Steel had no idea what the man thought he could do.

  Kobayashi Maru. Stay calm, assess options, look for a solution.

  Diego held up a hand, his amplified voice cutting through the silence. “My arena tonight is filled with champions and traitors, but only one of you will survive.”

  He gestured to Angel. “You made Lucas tell me he was returning with Steel. Why? To put me off guard? And then you bring in an old man with poor skills to help you.”

  Diego shook his head. “And Lucas, when you told me Angel was dead, I had no use for his sister anymore. I was going to carve her up and have some fun, but then she told me her secret, and why Angel always had so much success.”

  “I knew my brother was alive.” Renata glanced at Diego. “Just as I understood that Lucas had betrayed you.”

  Diego smiled at Angel. “I was right, you did have an angel watching out for you all these years. I asked Renata to prove herself, and she told me about the betrayal Lucas was planning. After a few hours of talking with Antonio’s son, her words proved true. I would have forgiven you if you had simply returned with Lucas, but you betrayed me too.”

  Angel waved derisively at Carlos. “I never brought this man. When Lucas called you, he thought his men had killed me, but I killed Steel and captured the traitor to bring to you. Why would I risk my sister’s life? And do you really think I would bring an old fool to help me fight you?”

  “That did puzzle me.” Diego lifted his chin to Carlos. “Who are you, old man?”

  “None of your business.” Carlos said it softly, but with defiance.

  Diego’s eyes narrowed and he smiled. “Carlos Aguilar. The man who sent Steel to kill Garcia and my brother, Vincente. I did some checking. Steel, our cartel, Colombians. It was an easy puzzle. Trying to avenge Gustavo’s whore, Marita. We will take our time with you and you will die slowly over many days. With Lucas.”

  The drug lord pointed a finger at Angel. “Perhaps I was too hasty in judging you, Angel. But we will have to talk about how the Americans were able to stop all the terrorist attacks too.”

  Lucas wagged his head as if he wanted to talk.

  Steel got ready, not thinking, just reacting.

  Diego gave an order in Spanish. One of his men slipped through the fence and walked into the arena without a gun. He pulled the tape off Lucas’ mouth, stepped back, and waited.

  “That is why I gave you the warning in the check-in call.” Lucas spoke forcefully. “Angel is the one who wants to kill you, Diego.”

  “I know Angel is very skilled, but are you saying he was going to kill all of us by himself?” Diego chuckled and looked at his men on the stage. A few of his men smiled with him.

  Diego gave another order, and in the southeast corner a man pulled the black tarp off what it was hiding. A bloodied corpse tied to the fence. “Antonio’s son supported Renata’s claims, Lucas, and your betrayal.”

  “Steel is here!” Lucas jerked his head north. “Have you talked to your house guards recently?”

  Diego frowned and gave an order to one of his men, who brought out a phone and made a call.

  Steel lifted the Rattler, aiming it for the center of the stage. Remembering Angel’s signal, he reconsidered and took out the SIG and Glock. Risky. And something he had never practiced before. But he wanted all of these men dead and he needed help.

  Diego’s man on the stage lowered the phone and shook his head.

  All eyes were on Diego, who glared at Angel.
Diego turned back to the guard. “Try again.”

  The man put the phone on speaker, the ringing audible.

  Gripping the gun barrel of the Glock, Steel tossed it as high as he could between the trunks of two trees, out over the arena, toward Angel and Carlos. He immediately tossed the SIG too. Angel and Carlos would have roughly three dozen bullets between them. It would have to do.

  Steel strode toward the stage, the Rattler leveled. The fence gave him some cover and walking instead of running gave him a few more seconds before someone noticed him. He glimpsed Angel striding casually for the guns, catching them in midair and tossing one to Carlos.

  Steel shot the closest two men on the fence in the back and then ran in a crouch.He fired at Diego, but the drug lord had already ducked behind his men. Three of the guards closest to Diego went down.

  Steel tried to follow Diego with his gunfire, but the cartel leader had ducked behind a podium.

  The guards on the stage scattered, raising guns to fire back, forcing him to forget about Diego and spray across the stage as he ran for cover.

  Something punched him in the back. He stumbled to the side of the stage, wondering if the bullet had pierced his Kevlar.

  Hoping to minimize the number of guards that could shoot at him, he knelt there. Guards on the far end of the stage had their own men in their line of fire. Steel loaded another magazine. Lifting the gun just above the stage floor, he fired without looking, hoping to hit the legs of the remaining men.

  Guards shouted and fell with thumps! Steel pressed the trigger until the Rattler was empty.

  He risked a quick glance above the stage floor. Diego had disappeared. The door in the back of the stage was cracked open. Four of Diego’s men were upright, cautiously advancing toward him. Two in front of the stage, two hugging the back wall. They all fired at him.

  Bullets chewed the edge of the stage.

  Dropping the gun and ducking, Steel glanced at the arena. Shots were coming from all sides.

  Carlos was kneeling and firing at guards. He took a hit, wobbling. Angel ducked, twisted, and crouched, moving from his feet to his knees as he shot Diego’s men. Jumping protectively in front of Renata’s chair, he jerked back as if he'd taken a bullet in the chest, but he managed to stay upright.

  Lucas was trying to hop across the arena on his bound feet. Carlos whirled and shot him in the legs, sending him to the ground.

  The three of them weren’t going to be enough, but Steel wanted Diego. He heard boots on the stage. Frantically he crawled to the side wall as fast as he could. To the east he spotted someone running into the trees.

  There was a crash of splintering wood as if someone had broken through the arena fence. Simultaneously Rattler staccato erupted. Jeffries?

  Steel rose, flattening himself against the building wall. One of Diego’s guards jumped off the stage, swinging his gun toward him. Before Steel could move, the man collapsed in a heap at his feet. He picked up the man’s AK-47, and looked at the arena.

  Carlos lifted his chin to him. “Get Diego!”

  Steel ran, his legs flying, chasing the shadow he had spotted entering the trees by the river. Unsure what direction Diego would flee in, he aimed himself in one possible intercept course. He remained in the shadows, preferring the dark.

  Pumping his legs hard, he watched the trees and brush, while listening for any telltale sounds.

  A slight sound to the right.

  Steel ducked behind a tree, rounding it fast.

  Diego stood on the other side, gun in hand. To avoid taking a bullet, Steel veered into the drug lord, knocking him into the tree trunk. He blocked Diego’s gun hand with his rifle, but Diego had a knife in his other hand and swiped it at his right arm, cutting it.

  Dropping the AK-47, Steel tried to stiff-arm Diego’s neck. Diego dropped his gun to block his strike and kicked at his knees.

  Stepping out, Steel drew his OTF knife and swiped at Diego’s neck. Diego bent back and drew a second knife. The cartel leader smiled at him, and then attacked with a series of stabs and slashes. Steel hastily retreated. Diego was very fast with his hands, but his footwork was slower and less practiced.

  When Diego paused, Steel rushed him and slashed his left arm.

  Diego dropped one knife but attacked again.

  Retreating in a circle, Steel waited for the man to tire. When Diego’s movements slowed, he rolled to the side, slashed the cartel lord’s ankle and then rolled away.

  Diego pursued him, limping.

  Steel rose and stepped away from a wild swing by Diego. He managed to slash the man’s wrist. Diego gasped and dropped the knife, stumbling back, bleeding and limping.

  Steel bent over and picked up Diego’s gun.

  Diego held up a hand. “I can get you millions. Whatever you want.”

  Steel pulled the mask off his face. “All I want is peace. This is for Marita and Dale.” He shot Diego in the heart and head, and the cartel leader collapsed.

  Breathing hard, he stood over the man who had caused so much misery. He wanted to shout or curse, but he was too weary.

  Silence. No more gunshots.

  Dropping the pistol, he picked up the AK-47 and ran toward the arena, unsure what he would find. He stopped just before the stage.

  In the center of the arena Angel carried Renata in his arms. The assassin strode toward the north fence, in the direction of his parked Chevy SS.

  Near the fence Steel was surprised to see Mario. Carlos leaned against his son with one of his arms wrapped around his son’s shoulders. Carlos stood over Lucas, who stared up at him.

  “You deserve much more than this.” Carlos shot him in the head. He then turned to Angel. “Stop!” He fired a bullet into the ground by Angel’s feet.

  Angel stopped and slowly turned to face Carlos, looking resigned. His left hand had blood on it, and the front of his shirt had a hole in it; the vest had saved his life.

  Steel aimed his gun at Carlos. A flash of anger erupted in his throat and he wanted to shout at both of them. Carlos had nearly sent Christie to her death twice, and caused both of them hell, and he and Angel were responsible for Dale’s death. He remembered his promise to Clay. He didn’t trust either man.

  Carlos didn’t look at Steel, but he asked, “Diego?”

  “Dead.” Steel tightened his finger on the trigger.

  Carlos glanced at him. “I saved your life in the meadow at Wyatt’s, Steel. And here.”

  Steel swallowed as Mario stared at him, holding his gaze. A son who would lose his father. He had to let it go.

  Footsteps sounded on the stage and he turned, gun ready.

  Limping around the corner into view, Christie appeared, her eyes wide and face taut. Shocked, his thoughts racing, Steel swung his gun to Angel.

  Christie followed his gaze and limped down the front steps, her machine gun pointed first at Carlos, and then Angel.

  “You all want to kill me.” Angel lifted his chin. “I saved Clay’s life. I saved Christie’s life. I spared Isabella and Harry.” He looked at all of them. “If you kill me, then you have the burden of taking care of my sister, who has no one else.”

  “Put her down, you coward,” spat Carlos.

  “I am just as responsible for your son’s death.” Renata looked at Carlos, and then Christie. “And for your brother’s death. Kill me first. Because if you kill my brother, I don’t have a reason to live anymore.” She stared at them defiantly. “We have killed, but we want out. Kill us both or let us go.”

  “Papá?” Mario said it softly.

  Carlos’ gun wavered as he stared at Angel and Renata. His hand slowly fell to his side. “Go,” he whispered.

  Steel looked at Renata, wondering if two killers could find redemption too. Who was he to decide? He lowered his gun.

  “You both deserve to die.” Christie fired a b
urst for three seconds.

  Steel stared, but Angel and Renata remained standing. Christie had fired above their heads.

  Lowering her gun, she waved them off. “I’m tired of killing.”

  Angel bowed to her, and then whirled and strode to his Chevy SS.

  Steel thought allowing a cartel assassin to escape as crazy as everything else that had happened. But he could live with it.

  Christie dropped her gun and limped into his arms, holding him tightly, her voice cracking. “If you say goodbye to me again, Jack, I won’t return. It’s my choice to stay with you. Not yours. You have to let me own it.”

  “I know,” he said softly.

  “Did you really think I was going to let you do this alone?” she whispered.

  “How?”

  “I asked Angel where the ranch was while you talked to Jeffries. Jeffries got us to San Francisco, where we rented a car. We entered the front driveway, saw the lights of the arena, and came back down to the south drive.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Your leg?”

  “A medic on the airplane gave me pain killers and taped it.”

  “You might have ruined it.”

  “I’ll live.” She paused, still holding him tightly. “I get your life and accept it, whatever it brings. I’m not Carol, Jack.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re stronger than me, honey.” The ache in his chest released and he heaved a deep breath. He understood fully now why Angel was jealous, and what Carlos once had with his wife.

  The vendetta was over. Retribution could end. The killing could stop. All of it gave him such relief that he sagged in her arms.

  They held each other like that for a while longer, and then Steel called Jeffries on speaker and filled him in.

  “We owe you one, Steel.” Jeffries’ voice hardened. “I want you to hold Angel for us.”

  “We’re beat up and he took off.”

  “I can make your life hell, Steel.”

  “I’ve had hell for nearly a week, colonel. I served up ISIS and Diego, and we all suffered losses. I don’t work for you.” He hung up.