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VENGEANCE REAWAKENED

Page 25

by Fredrick L. Stafford


  BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!

  Her long burst produced three effects on the mob.

  Most—including Abreu—dropped to the street.

  A few others flinched and froze.

  And two turned their weapons toward Molka.

  Molka fired first:

  BRRRRRP!

  Her short burst neutralized the dual-threat.

  One being Felipe.

  Molka advanced, kept the survivors under the muzzle and yelled:

  “THROW AWAY YOUR WEAPONS!”

  “DO IT NOW!”

  She hoped they comprehended her Portuguese.

  They seemed to because most complied.

  But a few hesitated.

  Molka fired again over their heads:

  BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!

  Her second long burst brought terror onto the compliers and brought the hesitators into submission.

  Molka stopped at a 10-meter distance from the mob and yelled again:

  “EVERYONE BUT THE CARDOZA BOYS STAND UP!”

  “HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!”

  “DO IT NOW!”

  All—including Abreu—complied.

  Molka yelled again:

  “START MOVING!”

  “THAT WAY!”

  She gestured with the barrel for them to move to their right.

  “SLOW!”

  “DO IT NOW!”

  They complied.

  When they put a 10-meter gap between themselves and their weapons, she yelled again:

  “STOP!”

  “DON’T MOVE!”

  They complied.

  Molka looked to the still terrified Cardoza boys. “Cardoza boys. You know what your boss just did to you?”

  One answered. “Yes.”

  “And he’s never coming back,” Molka said. “So, go home.”

  “I don’t have a home anymore, and all my bros are dead.”

  “Then find a new home and make some new bros and live. GO NOW!”

  The boys stood and ran toward the east side exit.

  Molka turned her attention back to the mob:

  “NOW THE REST OF YOU RUN AWAY!”

  “ANYBODY STILL IN THIS PARK IN 2 MINUTES I’M GOING TO CUT IN HALF!”

  “RUN!”

  BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!

  Molka fired another long burst as an incentive.

  It worked.

  They ran toward the west side exit.

  All except Abreu.

  He simply smiled at her. “Cardoza told me you would come to see me again. You’re the real deal. I’m impressed.” He glanced at dead Felipe shredded with three chest wounds. “If I ever had a real friend, he was the one. Look what you did to him.”

  Molka shook her head. “I only did to him what he was about to do to me. He should have run away when he had the chance.”

  “He couldn’t run away. And neither can I.”

  “I know you can’t,” Molka said. “The CV would hunt you down. Cowardice by leadership is not tolerated.”

  “That’s right. So, we have two choices: either you cut me in half with that SAW or you leave me here in command of the battlefield with a weapon and my dignity.”

  “I’m not going to cut you in half with this light machine gun.” Molka lowered the weapon to the concrete. “Or this.” She unslung the M4 and laid it beside the SAW. “But you’re still going to answer for what you did to Nathan. To me. Right now.”

  Abreu lowered his hands, still smiling. “Oh…ok, so you want to fight face to face again. I respect that.”

  Molka smiled. “Yes. Face to face again. Not with hands or feet, though. I know I got a little lucky last time.”

  “Yeah, real lucky. What then?”

  “Let’s make this simple,” Molka said. “See if you can grab a weapon and kill me before I kill you.”

  Abreu leaped right to the nearest discarded AK and picked it up with his back to Molka.

  Simultaneously, Molka fast-drew the Ruger from behind her back, racked the weapon, assumed a combat shooting stance, and aimed at Abreu.

  Abreu spun around and aimed at Molka.

  Molka fired two hollow points into Abreu’s abdomen.

  Abreu dropped the weapon and collapsed onto his back, wincing.

  Molka kept her weapon pointed at him, moved forward, and kicked aside the AK.

  Abreu raised his head to view his wounds. “I never imagined it would burn this much.” He winced again. “You gutshot me on purpose. To kill me slow. To make me suffer.”

  Molka stood over him. “Everyone you’ve killed is here with you now. You feel them, don’t you? Their terror, their hopelessness, their pain, has all come back to you. You feel it, don’t you?”

  Abreu closed his eyes and screamed in agony: “YES!”

  He screamed again, rolled onto his side, reached his right hand under his shirt into his front pocket, pulled out a small, black remote control-like device with a hinged red safety guard on the face.

  Molka’s eyes locked on the device.

  Car bomb detonator!

  Molka jumped forward and stomped her right boot down on Abreu’s right wrist.

  The brutal impact opened his hand, and the detonator slipped out.

  Molka snatched the device from the pavement and stepped back to examine the device’s configuration. She used her thumb to flip opened the red safety cover. Under it, a yellow button sat above a green button. Best guess: push the yellow button to arm, push the green button to detonate.

  Molka snapped the red safety guard back over the buttons, slipped the device into her right front pocket, moved to the M4, slung it over her shoulder, and started walking back down Main Street toward her gear bag in the theater.

  Abreu called after her: “Hey Israeli bitch! You didn’t really win! Because the one they send to replace me will be just as bad as me, if not worse!”

  Molka called back over her shoulder! “I doubt it.”

  CHAPTER 55

  Molka exited the park’s east side gate with the gear bag slung over her left shoulder and moved toward Cardoza’s parked BMW.

  As she neared it, the latest headache assaulted her brain.

  Not again!

  Not now!

  Cardoza sat on the left front fender with a contented smile. “All over in there?”

  Molka nodded.

  “Did Alejandro get out?”

  Molka shook her head.

  Cardoza smiled. “Superb!” He hopped off the fender and raised his arms in victory. “Surprised and outnumbered more than two to one, and I still walk away unscathed.” He smiled again. “I love my charmed life.”

  Molka remained silent as the thousand, glowing hot, needle-sized knives plunged into the center of her brain sadistically twisted in every direction, slashing and shredding and shredding and slashing.

  “Is Alejandro really dead?” Cardoza said.

  Molka nodded.

  “Then it must have been you who killed him, correct?”

  Molka nodded.

  Cardoza smiled again. “So you were actually sent to protect me! Thank you!”

  Molka reached the vehicle. “We’ll walk to my van. It’s about a kilometer away.”

  “Walk? Why not just drive us in my car?”

  “And when we get there, we’ll leave for Brasilia immediately.”

  “Fine by me,” Cardoza said. “The sooner we get up north, the better. Your people have generously allowed me a 24-hour stay in a luxury hotel—under guard, of course—to close out my affairs. I plan to have all my property liquidated and all the funds donated to favela charities. I think that is a fitting way to say farewell to this country. Do you agree?”

  “Turn around,” Molka said, “walk over to the fence, put your hands on it, and spread your feet.”

  “I am not armed.”

  “Do it anyway.”

  Cardoza moved a few meters to the fence and complied.

  Molka’s search only produced Cardoza’s new phone. She slipped it into her left back po
cket and then unzipped her gear bag and removed the handcuffs. “Hands behind your back.”

  Cardoza glanced over his shoulder. “Really? I am surrendering myself to you on friendly terms.”

  “Do it anyway.”

  Cardoza complied.

  Molka cuffed him, closed her eyes, and put her palms to her temples as the headache’s pain climbed to its crescendo.

  “Your lovely face looks pale,” Cardoza said. “Are you not feeling well?”

  Molka kept her eyes closed. “I’ve seen my share of sickening things, but that was one of the sickest. You sent all but four of those boys to be slaughtered just so you could get away.”

  “All but four?” Cardoza’s tone became respectful. “I am very proud of them. They upheld their oaths and died like good soldiers for their boss.”

  Molka’s eyes snaped open and glared at Cardoza. “No, they died like vulnerable, disadvantaged youths being manipulated by a selfish, narcissistic coward for his own benefit.”

  Cardoza’s face contracted with annoyance. “What you call a selfish, narcissistic coward, I would call a pragmatic, clever survivor.”

  Molka’s glare intensified. “My only small consolation is you will have those two years behind bars. And I’ve heard Russian prisons are really tough.”

  Cardoza smiled. “It seems your superiors have withheld information from you.”

  “What information?”

  “My deal with the Russian Prosecutor-General includes a provision that my sentence will be suspended right after the election next month if I agree to leave Russia and never to return, which was my intention anyway. They fear my organizational talents. But I will find another country in which to utilize them.”

  Molka frowned. “Another country with desperate boys you can exploit to serve and die for you on your Ghost Crews?”

  Cardoza smiled. “Another country where my charmed life will go on blissfully without a care.”

  Molka stared straight ahead.

  The headache pain ebbed away.

  The dark urges flowed in.

  And for the first time, she didn’t try to fight them.

  Cardoza smiled smug at Molka. “Crushingly disappointing, is it not?”

  “What?” Molka said.

  “You people came so close. Eleven years, two continents, thousands, maybe millions, spent, a gentle artist crippled. But all you ended up with is a vengeance reawakened that can never be fulfilled.”

  Molka hit Cardoza with another glare. “Nothing is over until it’s over.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I changed my mind about the car.” Molka removed the key fob from her left front pocket, used it to turn off the car’s alarm and unlock the locks, walked Cardoza to the passenger side door, and opened it. “Get in.”

  Cardoza complied.

  Molka closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side, dropped her gear bag on the asphalt, and entered the car.

  Cardoza smiled. “Mind if we stop and get something to eat before we head north? My appetite is suddenly healthy and raging.”

  “Lean forward,” Molka said.

  Cardoza complied.

  Molka removed the cuffs. “Lean back.”

  Cardoza complied.

  Molka put one cuff on his left wrist and cuffed the other to the steering wheel.

  “What is the point of this?” Cardoza said.

  “I have to call in.” Molka stepped back out of the car.

  “While you do, may I have my phone back?” Cardoza smiled again. “I would like to call a very lovely lady I know in Brasilia and see what she is doing in about 12 hours.”

  Molka removed the phone from her back pocket and tossed it in his lap. “Unlock it so I can get your number.”

  Cardoza complied and handed Molka the phone back.

  Molka sent a one-letter message to her phone, tossed his phone back in his lap, and ducked her head inside to face him. “Before you make your call, maybe take a moment to reflect about the Harlev family again and all the other lives you ruined up to this point during your…charmed life.”

  Cardoza offered Molka his disarming smile. “Not right now. I will have plenty of time for regrets when I am dead.”

  Molka closed the car door, re-slung her gear bag, walked behind the car, and removed her phone from her back right pocket.

  She dialed Raziela.

  Raziela answered: “Is the Fantasy World meeting over?”

  Molka looked at the back of Cardoza’s head. “Yes. My compliments on your intuition. It was right. The meeting went bad. Very bad.”

  “How bad?”

  “Mass casualties. Mostly boys.”

  Raziela’s voice softened. “Oh, my.”

  “You can inform Major Fernandes he can find ‘The Bull’ waiting for him very quietly on Fantasy World’s Main Street.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be elated to hear that,” Raziela said. “What happened to Cardoza?”

  Molka remained silent.

  Cardoza continued his phone conversation.

  “Molka?” Raziela said.

  Molka remained silent, staring at Cardoza.

  Cardoza’s head tipped back in carefree laughter.

  “Molka,” Raziela said again, “what happened to Cardoza?”

  Molka broke her stare and turned away from the window. “I can’t say yet. The situation is still fluid.”

  Pause.

  “Understood. Message me with Cardoza’s status update as soon as you can.”

  “Ok.” Molka ended the call.

  The dark urges surged through her mind unrelenting.

  She turned back to face the rear window and called Cardoza’s phone.

  Cardoza answered. “Accidentally dial me, Molka?”

  “No. I called to tell you I watched one of Abreu’s soldiers plant a bomb under your car after you arrived here.”

  “Did he?” Cardoza chuckled. “The irony of that is not lost on me. And I have to admit, Alejandro really stepped up his game today. I think I brought out the best in him. Do you agree?”

  With the phone still to her left ear, Molka turned and started to walk away from the car.

  Her right hand slipped into her right front pocket.

  She continued walking away.

  Cardoza said again, “Do you agree, Molka?”

  Molka’s right hand gripped the detonator.

  Cardoza said, “Was there anything else you wanted?”

  “Yes.” Molka stopped at about 10 meters from the car and turned back toward it. “Look out the rear window.”

  Cardoza twisted his head around and viewed Molka.

  Molka pulled the detonator from her pocket.

  She held the detonator up. “You know what this is?”

  “Yes,” Cardoza said. “Where did you find it?”

  “I took it from Abreu.” Molka turned away again and walked toward the parking lot exit.

  “Be very careful with that,” Cardoza said. “And please come get me out of this car.”

  Molka continued walking.

  She was about 20 meters away from the car.

  “Where are you going?” Cardoza said.

  Molka continued walking.

  She was about 30 meters away from the car.

  “Molka, if your intention was to put fear into me, you have succeeded. Now, please put that detonator down and come get me out of this car.”

  Molka continued walking.

  She was about 40 meters away from the car.

  “Molka, you proved your point. Please put that detonator down and come get me out of this car.”

  Molka continued walking.

  She was about 50 meters away from the car.

  “Molka, where are you going?”

  “Please come get me out of this car.”

  Molka stopped at about 60 meters away.

  “Molka, what are you doing?”

  Molka turned and faced the car.

  Cardoza asked again. “Molka, what are you doing
?”

  She held up the detonator and used her right thumb to flip open the red safety cover. “I’m fulfilling a vengeance reawakened.”

  Molka turned away again and started walking toward the parking lot exit.

  Cardoza’s voice trembled:

  “What?”

  “No.”

  “Do not even joke about such things, Molka.”

  Molka continued walking.

  “You have to bring me in.”

  “You have to follow your orders.”

  “Get me out of this car.”

  Molka continued walking.

  Her thumb pushed the yellow button.

  The green button lit up.

  Cardoza yelled:

  “You were sent to protect me!”

  “You have to follow your orders!”

  “Get me out of this car!”

  Molka continued walking.

  Cardoza’s left wrist pulled in vain against the cuff shackled to it.

  “Get me out of this car, now!”

  “You have to bring me in!”

  “You have to follow your orders!”

  Molka continued walking.

  “You cannot just decide to kill me!”

  “Not me!”

  “Not my charmed life!”

  Molka continued walking.

  Her thumb moved to the green button.

  Cardoza’s body thrashed wildly.

  He screamed:

  “NO, MOLKA!”

  “COME BACK, MOLKA!”

  “DON’T LEAVE ME, MOLKA!”

  “MOLKAAAAAA—”

  Molka ended the call.

  She continued walking.

  She lowered the phone from her ear.

  Her thumb pushed the green button.

  CRACKBOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!

  Even at a safe distance, the powerful explosion’s concussion reverberated through Molka’s entire body.

  It gave her a visceral sensation.

  It felt almost euphoric.

  It soothed away the dark urges.

  Molka continued walking toward the exit.

  She never looked back.

  PROJECT MOLKA: TASK 6

  WEDNESDAY

  APRIL 28TH

  TASK: COMPLETED

  CHAPTER 56

  Private Hospital

  Rio de Janeiro

  12:03PM

  “Organic hummus with organic sumac, anyone?” Molka entered Nathan’s private room wearing her white tracksuit and white cross trainers with high-ponytailed hair, black-framed glasses, carrying a food carryout bag.

 

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