Noble Intentions: Season Two (Episodes 6-10)

by L. T. Ryan

  “Hello, Jack,” a voice said from behind him in a thick Russian accent. “Had a feeling that was you. Or, well she did. She said that Jack was here and that he was going to kill us all.”

  Jack said nothing. He slowly stood up and looked over his shoulder. He recognized the man he had seen a day before walking his dog. It was Chernov.

  “So of course,” Chernov continued, “I knocked her out. No way some has-been agent is taking us down.”

  “Seventeen dead, so far.”

  Chernov laughed. “Going to be eighteen soon then. Overall, that is. Now turn around slowly, weapon out. Hold it by the barrel.”

  Jack did as told and turned to face Chernov.

  “Toss it,” Chernov said, gesturing toward the MP5.

  Jack knelt down and set the weapon on the floor and then pushed it toward Chernov.

  “Stupid American.” Chernov kept his gun aimed at Jack. Pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Let me ask you something, Jack Noble. When you killed my brother, did you give him an honorable death, or did you sneak up behind him like the pussy that you are?”

  Jack shrugged. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

  “His name was Aleksander Chernov. He was Dorofeyev’s bodyguard.”

  Jack nodded. “I didn’t kill him. He fell off a boat. Screamed like a child, though.”

  Chernov took a step forward and stopped in front of Jack’s gun. Picked it up and aimed it at Jack’s head. Said, “Tell me, before I kill you, how will it feel to be taken out by your own weapon?”

  Jack smiled.

  Chernov smiled back. He knelt down, letting the barrel of the gun in his hand rest on the floor while he reached for Jack’s. He took his eyes off of Jack. It wasn’t long, barely a second or two. But that was long enough.

  Jack reached behind him and retrieved his Glock from his waistband. He whipped his arm around.

  Chernov looked up, at first bewildered, and then recognition flashed across his face when he saw the gun in Jack’s hand. He lifted the MP5 from the floor and jerked it up. Pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

  “I set the safety,” Jack said. He fired a single shot. It hit Chernov dead center in his forehead. His body twitched back and then fell forward. Jack reached over and pulled the MP5 from the dead Russian’s grasp.

  “What’s happening? What’s going on?” Jasmine said.

  Jack looked over his shoulder and then spun around on his knees. “Jack’s here, Jazz. It’s OK now.”

  “I told you,” she paused and took a deep breath and pushed herself off the floor, “Don’t call me Jazz.” She smiled at him and held out her arms.

  Jack freed her from her shackles and helped her off the floor. He said, “I don’t know how safe it is up there yet. You feel strong enough to hold a weapon?”

  She nodded. “Think so.” Then she wiped the sweat and blood from her brow and her face and took the Glock from Jack’s outstretched hand.

  “Follow me.”

  16

  Clarissa tensed at the first knock on the office door. Was it Jack or Bear or Pierre? She looked around the office. One way in. One way out. She pulled her gun to her chest and stood behind the door. “Who is it?”

  “Bear.”

  She grabbed the handle and turned it slowly. She pulled it open a crack and peered through. Saw Bear’s massive figure looming in the hallway. Pierre stood next to him.

  She pulled the door open and ushered the two men into the room. After they passed, she stuck her head through the doorway and checked the hallway. Empty. She shut the door and flipped the lock.

  “Where’s Jack?” she asked.

  “We found a basement,” Bear said. “He went to clear it. Betting that’s where his partner was being kept. He should be here in a minute.”

  “You left him alone? What if there was someone down there or getting ready to check?”

  “He told me to clear the house with Pierre.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How many people did you take out?”

  “Bout a dozen-and-a-half.”

  “There’s more than that.”

  “Well they ain’t in the house.”

  Clarissa shook her head and reached back with one hand, grabbing a fistful of hair. She looked over at Pierre and lifted an eyebrow, looking for any input he might have.

  Pierre said nothing.

  She double checked the door. Made sure it was locked. She paced the space between the desk and the door. She wanted to leave the room. Find Jack. That would be a mistake and she knew it. Don’t deviate from the plan unless something catastrophic happens. So far, nothing had.

  “That him?” Bear asked as he pointed to the man bound on the floor behind the desk.

  “Yeah,” Clarissa said. “Boris Melikov.”

  The Russian moaned and rolled slightly, side to side. He looked up and his eyes widened when he saw Bear reach down and grab him by his shirt.

  Bear hoisted Boris into the air and yelled at him. “You like kidnapping little girls?”

  Boris shook his head.

  Bear slapped the man across the face, open handed, then back handed.

  Boris’s head snapped to the right and then to the left. He shut his eyes tight and then opened them. He lazily stared at Bear before his head fell to the side. Eyelids fluttered and then remained shut.

  “What did you do to him?” Bear said. He dropped Boris to the ground.

  Clarissa shrugged. “He’ll be alright.” She paused. “In time.”

  “Bastard’s lucky he’s out of it right now.”

  “What now?” Pierre asked.

  “We wait for Jack,” Bear said.

  Pierre moved to the corner of the room and stared out the window. He lightly tapped the barrel of his MP5 against the glass. His trained eyes scanned the parking lot. Left to right, right to left. Front to back, back to front.

  Bear took a seat behind the desk and opened each desk drawer, inspecting the contents.

  “What are you looking for?” Clarissa asked.

  “Jack needs those documents. Figured I’d get them ready for him so we can get out of here a.s.a.p.”

  Clarissa pointed to a stack of papers on the desk. “They’re right there.”

  “OK. I’m going to double check whatever else Boris has in here. Maybe we’ll luck out and find something one of you spooks can use.”

  Boris moaned on the floor. He rolled to the side again, eventually making it to his back.

  Clarissa stood over him. She almost felt bad for the man. He had a rough road ahead. Several agencies were going to want to talk to him. Once they used him up and got every bit of intel they could from him, they’d shove him in a cell three hundred feet underground.

  The room fell silent. Clarissa watched Boris. Bear read through papers at the desk. Pierre watched a motionless parking lot. All three reacted to the door crashing in. Their reactions were too late, though.

  “Freeze, police,” a man barked. He stepped into the room carrying a semi-automatic weapon similar to the one’s wielded by Bear and Pierre. He had dark pants and a dark shirt on. He wore a Kevlar helmet on his head. A bullet proof vest covered his chest and back.

  Clarissa looked back at the man in disbelief. He aimed his gun directly at her. “Officer, we’re—”

  “Shut up,” the cop said. “Everyone drop your weapons. Try anything and the woman dies.”

  Bear sat with his hands on the desk. He pushed back in his chair and stood up slowly. He held his hands up in the air and stepped out from behind the desk. Pierre placed his Glock and MP5 on the desk and stepped a few feet away. Clarissa dropped her pistol on the ground and lifted her hands in the air.

  “Move to the corner.” He gestured with his head while keeping his weapon trained on Clarissa. Once the three were huddled together in the corner of the room, the cop said, “Come on in.”

  A single Russian man with shoulder length blond hair entered the room. He wore black pants and a bla
ck jacket. He pulled out a knife and cut the duct tape from Boris’s wrists, knees and ankles. “Let me help you, Boris.”

  Boris took his time getting to his hands and knees and then used his desk to lift himself from the ground. He wiped blood away from his eyes and face with his palms. He stepped forward and stood in front of Bear. “Tell him to move.”

  “You heard him,” the cop said.

  Bear stood still.

  “Move.” The cop fired a round into the ceiling above the group. A cloud of plaster descended on the room.

  Bear still didn’t move.

  The cop pulled a blackjack from his utility belt. He stepped forward and slammed the thick rubber club into Bear’s midsection. The large man bent over. Not much, but enough for Boris to lean in and grab Clarissa.

  “Leave her,” Pierre said.

  The cop swung his blackjack at Pierre, catching the Frenchman on the side.

  Pierre groaned and stumbled back a few feet. He wrapped his arms around his midsection.

  Boris forced Clarissa to sit on the edge of the desk. He paced in front of her. He said, “You betrayed me, Anastasiya? Why? How much did these men pay you?”

  Clarissa smiled and didn’t answer.

  Boris said, “I will not ask again.”

  She still didn’t answer.

  Boris turned his head, looked at the cop and then at Bear. Smiled at the big man. Then he backhanded Clarissa across the face.

  “Bastard,” Bear said through gritted teeth.

  The impact of the blow snapped Clarissa’s head to the side and turned her body a few inches. She took a few moments to compose herself. “I’m not Anastasiya. She’s in a cell in Langley, Virginia. Giving up all your secrets.”

  Boris backed up. “What? Who are you?”

  Clarissa straightened up and said, “Screw you.”

  Boris pushed his man to the side and grabbed her pistol off the floor. He stood back a few feet and aimed it at Clarissa. He said, “Tell me what the hell is going on here.”

  17

  Jack reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the hallway. Jasmine was close behind. He saw Kenneth Quioness only half a second before the man drove his large fist into Jack’s stomach. There was no time to prepare for the blow. Jack’s momentum carried his head and chest forward. The force of Kenneth’s blow drove Jack’s midsection backward. Jack found himself crumpled over and forced his hands to his face to soften the blow he knew would come from Kenneth’s knee.

  Kenneth stepped forward. Grabbed the back of Jack’s head. He drove his knee upward. The blow could have been severe and enough to put Jack on the ground for a minute or two. However, his hands and wrists absorbed the impact and the knee only served to drive the back of Jack’s wrists into his forehead. He fell over anyway, and lay on the ground like a helpless invalid.

  Kenneth stood to Jack’s right, looking down and laughing at him. He said, “Where’s that partner of yours? I want her to see me stomp your brains onto the floor.” The man lifted his right foot into the air and placed it over Jack’s face.

  Jack reached up with both arms and wrapped them around Kenneth’s ankle. He rolled to his left, pulling the big man into a standing splits. Jack continued his roll until he butted up against the wall. He reassessed Kenneth’s location. The man was on the floor, sitting up with one leg draped over Jack.

  Jack sat up and drove his fist into Kenneth’s solar plexus. The blow landed with a thud and forced the air from Kenneth’s lungs. The man fell forward over his outstretched leg.

  Jack got to his feet. Grabbed Kenneth by the back of the head. He pulled the man’s head toward him. At the same time, he drove his right knee up and toward the man’s head. Knee and face met with a sickening crack. Jack let go of Kenneth’s head and the man fell onto his back, his nose split open at the bridge and bent to the right.

  “Jasmine,” Jack said. “Find my gun.”

  Jasmine stepped through the open doorway and knelt down. She picked up Jack’s gun and held it out for him.

  “You want to do the honors?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  Jack dropped his right hand to his side, fingers stretched open, palm facing out. He felt her press the Glock into his hand. He clenched the weapon tight. He brought his arm around in front of him. Aimed the gun at Kenneth’s head.

  Kenneth rolled his head left to right. “Don’t,” he managed to say.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

  Kenneth didn’t answer.

  Jack pulled the trigger. The bullet smashed into Kenneth’s forehead and the man ceased to exist. Just a shell. Lifeless eyes staring up at Jack.

  Jack turned to face Jasmine and asked, “You alright?”

  She nodded and reached up for his outstretched hand. He pulled her up and said, “Let’s go get the others and get the hell out of here.”

  They walked to the end of the hallway. Jack stopped and scanned the great room. Still empty. He took his time walking the fifteen feet to the next hallway. The front door was open. He looked through the open doorway into the darkness. Saw nothing. Didn’t expect to. The front entrance was pretty well shielded from outside view. It worked in reverse as well. They stepped through the hallway, taking their time. He counted the doors, turned where Clarissa had said to, and stopped a few feet from the door to the room where they were to wait for him.

  “What’s your gut tell you?” he said.

  “I don’t think my senses can be trusted right now,” Jasmine said.

  “Mine either.” Jack took two quick steps. “Door’s cracked open.” He looked through the opening and then stepped back.

  “What is it?”

  “Someone got the drop on them.” He looked at Jasmine and noticed she had the H&K MP5 strapped around her chest. He held out the pistol and said, “Switch weapons with me.”

  She lifted the strap over her head and held out the MP5 for him and then snatched the pistol from his hand.

  Jack said, “Three men in there. Two Russians and a bad cop. Bad cop has on body armor. I’m going to fire on him twice. You come in behind me and take out the Russian with blond hair. He’s wearing a black suit.”

  Jasmine nodded.

  “You sure you’re up for this?”

  She nodded again.

  “OK. On my count. Three, two, one…”

  Jack lifted his gun to his chest and supported the barrel with his left hand. He kicked the door open. He scanned the room in a fraction of a second, quicker than the men in there could respond. The blond Russian stood to the left of the desk. He appeared to be unarmed. Looks could be deceiving, though. Jack knew that if he had a weapon on him, it would be at least three seconds before he fired. Jasmine should be able to neutralize him before those three seconds were up.

  The man he assumed was Boris stood in front of the desk. He looked to be armed. Behind Boris, sitting on the desk, was Clarissa. He had to be careful if he fired in Boris’s direction so as not to hit her with an errant bullet.

  To the right of the desk he saw Bear and Pierre. They were facing him. Both were unarmed. The cop stood a few feet in front of them, holding them at bay with his firearm. The cop’s back faced Jack. At least it did when Jack kicked open the door.

  The cop spun. Jack aimed and squeezed the trigger. Three bullets slammed into the cop, one above the other. All three hit him in the vest. The cop fired wildly, his bullets spraying the room, crashing into the wall. The cop’s momentum, combined with the impact of the first three shots, kept him turning around. Jack squeezed the trigger again. The first bullet hit the cop in his shoulder. The next in his neck. And the third slammed into his helmet. The corrupt officer fell to the ground.

  The blond Russian had his weapon out and was starting to swing it toward Jack.

  Jack dropped to his knee. He saw Jasmine’s arm stretch out over his shoulder. She fired three shots. The first hit the Russian in the chest. The next two hit him in the face.

  Boris had also begun t
urning around. Clarissa tried to jump him, but he managed to evade her and then wrap his free arm around her neck. He pressed the barrel of his pistol to her head.

  “You,” Boris said. “Drop your weapon. Who the hell are you?”

  Jack lowered his weapon and dropped it on the floor. He looked at each person standing in the room. His eyes went from Pierre to Bear to Clarissa. Then he locked eyes with Boris. Said, “Jack Noble.”

  Boris smiled and a hint of recognition flashed across his face. “My boss can’t wait to see you again.”

  “Who’s your boss?”

  “General Ivanov.”

  “You two will have something to talk about in Hell then.”

  “You’ll have been there years before us, Noble.”

  Jack stuck his hand behind his back. He wrapped his hand around his pistol as Jasmine placed it in his palm.

  Jack said, “Would you like me to give him a message for you?”

  “That won’t be necessary, Jack. I’ll be seeing him in a few days.” Boris motioned with his head. “You two, move against the wall, near the door.”

  Jack took his eyes off Boris for a second and saw Bear and Pierre move to the wall next to him. What was Boris’s plan? Did he have more men en route? Was he planning on killing everyone in the room except for Clarissa? He replayed the last minute in his head. He had to stall Boris, if only for a few more moments.

  “When are you going?” Jack asked. “Or is he coming here?”

  “Not for you to worry about.”

  “How are you going to get all of us there?”

  Boris smiled. He slid the hand wrapped around Clarissa’s neck down a few inches. He motioned with the gun as he spoke. “There will only be two of us, Jack. The rest of you are staying in Iowa. Your place of rest, so to speak.”

  “Only person resting here is gonna be you, Boris,” Jack said.

  Boris laughed. His eyes scrunched up as he did so. His left hand fell a bit more, down and away. The gun moved away from Clarissa’s head and pointed toward an area of the room that had nothing but books.

  Jack whipped his left hand around, and brought the gun up, and stretched his arm out. He quickly aimed and squeezed the trigger. Being right-handed, aiming and firing in the span of less than a second with his left hand was not ideal. The bullet missed and smashed into the window behind the desk instead of into Boris’s head.