Deadly Resonse (The Jake Stryker Series Book 1)

by Warren Conrad

  After the meeting, officers met in smaller groups checked their equipment and agreed on officer assignments. They would move vehicles to the streets shortly before dark then move into position on command.

  Mostly, the protesters and reporters started to take to the streets after 8:00 p.m. growing in numbers until 10:00 p.m. at which time trouble usually began. Media coverage was huge with over fifteen news trucks and teams of reporters. Three of the trucks were from International News Association. They were counting on news ratings to spike if violence erupted.

  Levon Williams found his way along the streets to the police department building. Today he arrived early ahead of his followers. Levon carried a bullhorn and brought with him a small backpack filled with water and a hooded sweatshirt, prepared for the cooler weather. The forecast hinted of light rain and fog with temperatures dropping into the low fifties.

  Levon Williams was from New York but moved to St. Louis in his teen years. He was educated and served previously on the city council before becoming a full time civil rights activist. The lack of jobs and increased number of unemployed created his opportunity and he seized the moment. Levon justified his actions not contemplating the results of his fiery rhetoric. He was known as Reverend Levon and his followers increased as he became the voice of the oppressed. Levon saw the world in terms of black and white with no shades of grey. To him it was simple; the plight of his followers was due to racist white law enforcement. The reasons were, however more involved but he chose to ignore them, concentrating all hatred on authority. Levon, like others, found it much easier to vilify the police than deal with reality. It was true racism did exist within the ranks of some police departments so it was easy for him to enrage his followers.

  Levon was not a large man but compensated for his size with a big voice and tonight he planned his performance for a national audience.

  His followers arrived by 9:00 p.m., at which time Levon spoke with several community leaders about the protest and activities contemplated. The event was scheduled to begin at 10:00 p.m. with a speech from him to the crowd followed by comments from victims of brutality at the hands of the police. The crowd then would march down the street toward the police building where a rally would be held. Based on past protests the crowd would be at its largest size around 11:00 p.m. at which time Levon would address the police and the country.

  Ali and his men joined the throng of people as they appeared from all directions heading to the protest. Some protesters wore masks, backpacks and carried signs, most with foul language to taunt the police. The mix of people consisted of black men and women along with some whites and other nationalities. Many were young and rowdy displaying gang like attitudes and actions. The older individuals were peaceful, trying to keep the crowd from violence.

  Ali’s men stayed lost in the middle of the crowd as it grew in size while three slipped out toward the media trucks. They returned without their backpacks just as Levon Williams prepared to speak. Tension was in the air like static electricity.

  Levon spoke addressing wrongs at the hands of racist cops. He increased the tempo and volume bringing the crowd to chanting. “DEAD COPS, DEAD COPS, DEAD COPS!” He then introduced the so-called victims of police brutality and they told their stories, inciting the protesters even more.

  The various parked news vans were uploading their satellite feeds from reporters who were followed by cameramen on the edges of the crowd. Some reporters interviewed protesters and others stayed back, afraid to get close. A reporter attempted to speak with Ali, who moved away quickly from the camera as the crowd, started moving toward the police building. Ali spoke with each of his men telling them to watch his cap. When he removed his cap, they should drop their backpacks and fade away. He would detonate the bombs when they were clear.

  The crowd continued to advance as police formed up in front of the building in riot gear. Other police lined up on both sides of the street looking to arrest agitators in the crowd. Ali’s men moved to form a diamond within the crowd in positions they could see him.

  The crowd had grown to about five hundred when it reached the rally point. Once again, Levon fired up the protesters taunting the police, shouting inflaming rhetoric over his bullhorn. There was police activity in back of Ali as three protesters were thrown to the ground and cuffed. Ali saw bright spotlights moving over the crowd and riot officers engaging protesters through the mist and fog. He reached for his hat and removed it while looking for his men. He located the men moving back through the crowd and he readied his cell phone. He moved away and pressed the call button.

  Cameraman Ron Jenkins captured the three explosions before he was thrown to the ground. When he looked up the once raucous crowd was decimated. Protesters in large numbers were on the ground howling in pain. Police officers were down while others moved in slow motion, taking in the enormity of the scene. Smoke began to clear and Jenkins saw blood and body parts spread over the blast area. People were running, some missing arms and others bleeding from wounds caused by the nails and shrapnel. Jenkins felt something sticky on his face, realizing it was blood and not his own. Then he saw the children’s bodies, or what was left of them, next to him. He stumbled toward the news truck, bleeding from his ears. The reporter he was covering was nowhere in sight. He collapsed before reaching the truck, listening to sirens in the distance. The last thing he would remember were news trucks blown apart and burning with reporters dead or wounded on the ground.

  Levon Williams regained consciousness to see and hear the moans of people around him. The smell of blood, smoke and body parts engulfed his senses. He moved his arms but there was no feeling in his legs. He looked down and realized both legs were gone and then the pain hit him and he cried out for help. The next thing Levon remembered were two white cops kneeling over him applying tourniquets to the remains of his legs. Levon Williams would never be the same either physically or mentally. His view of the world had changed in a flash of light.

  Ali’s men moved with groups of people running and limping in all directions away from the blast. They went to the designated side streets leading to the van located a half mile away. First responders seeing the devastation called for fire and medical personnel to report to the scene along with all federal and state agencies.

  Ali and his team would be out of the area and on the way to Georgia before road blocks and vehicle searches could be put in place.

  27

  Monterrey, Mexico

  2016

  The flight to Monterrey was uneventful, the men resting in preparation for a long night. After inspection of the passengers and plane by Mexican officials, the men headed to the tour helicopter. Herb expected no problems. Cash in Mexico was king if you knew the right people.

  The helicopter was fairly new and equipped for tourists. The pilot spoke English and instructed everyone to strap themselves into their seats. Thirty minutes later as the sun was setting, they landed at a small airfield and were met by two men in a green van.

  The van moved slowly down gravel roads heading east toward the higher elevations and the compound. Five miles from the destination, Herb informed everyone to get ready. The van came to a stop and pulled off the road into the dense jungle to a clearing prepared in advance. The driver and another man went to the edge of the clearing and motioned Stryker to follow.

  The men found the equipment and tactical gear and began getting ready, including face paint. There were six H&K MP-5 machine guns and six Glock 9mm pistols all with suppressors. Each man had a combat tactical vest with spare ammunition, helmet equipped with night vision, and a 5” tactical knife. They attached flash/bangs to their vests along with small flashlights. Twenty minutes later, they were ready to move out along the road. They checked their radios and silently departed from the clearing.

  Herb and the two Mexicans remained at the van for extraction.

  Stryker located the watchtower located off the road on a small rise. He motioned to Dirk and one of the Alpha operators to kill th
e guards.

  Silently, the operators moved through thick jungle toward the watchtower, their night vision in place. Once close, they saw two men smoking and looking for vehicles approaching on the road. Both guards had AK-47’s slung over their shoulders. Dirk pointed to the man on the left, indicating he would take him. The Alpha operator gave him a thumbs up, meaning he understood and would take the other guy. The suppressed MP-5’s fired dropping both men, the subsonic rounds made little noise in the green glow of their night vision.

  Dirk climbed the tower and took the radios, then he and the Alpha operator moved back to Stryker’s position on the road.

  Stryker called Herb on his comms and advised him to contact Orson, they were moving to the gate, ETA ten minutes.

  In front of the gate stood two guards, one on each side. Stryker motioned for the Alpha operators to take out the guards while Stryker and Dirk watched.

  Things happened fast, both guards down, throats slashed.

  SEALS, silent and effective, thought Stryker.

  The five men moved to the gate and Stryker hit the gate code obtained by Orson.

  “We move on the bunk house then the main house as planned,” whispered Stryker into his comms.

  The men fanned out and slowly approached the bunkhouse, seeing no guards. At the door, Stryker heard men moving around. He pushed the door open and entered his MP-5 spitting aimed fire. At his side, Dirk opened up, dropping men. Ten men were dead, all shot in a matter of seconds. The others surrendered without firing a round and were bound and locked in the bunkhouse.

  “Let’s move. Dirk, you take one of the Alpha operators to the back and the rest of us will breach the front. Set your watches for three minutes on my count,” said Stryker.

  Dirk and the Alpha operator moved to the rear of the house and waited for the signal. Stryker and the team posed at the front door and set off a small breaching charge. Stryker took cover and gave the signal as the charge blew the door open. The men moved inside, encountering three guards, who fired on them from different directions.

  “Dirk, we are pinned down in front taking heavy fire. Three, maybe more, shooters,” said Stryker.

  “On our way. Stay down, we don’t want friendly fire problems,” advised Dirk.

  “Got it,” said Stryker.

  Dirk and the Alpha operator approached the front room, clearing as they went. The guards had Stryker and the others pinned in a crossfire from two sides. Dirk motioned his partner to go to the right and take out one of the guards. As the Alpha operator opened up full auto, Dirk jumped and rolled coming up crouched, firing full auto on the shooters.

  Stryker and the other two Alpha operators hugged the floor as 9mm rounds flew merely inches above their heads. In less than a minute, the MP-5’s sent over sixty rounds into the room, shredding everything, including the guards.

  “Let’s move upstairs,” motioned Stryker.

  “Wait, we saw an elevator as we came through the kitchen,” whispered Dirk into his comms.

  Stryker motioned to one of the Alpha operators, who went toward the elevator to cover anyone attempting to escape.

  “Ok, let’s do this,” said Stryker.

  The men moved single file up the stairs to the landing. Seeing no guards, they proceeded to the top and into a hallway that contained four rooms.

  Stryker pointed for the Alpha operators to clear the rooms to the left. He and Dirk would clear the rooms to the right.

  “Let’s move,” he said.

  Before any of the men could move, a door suddenly opened with a familiar sound.

  “GRENADE!” yelled Paul as everyone hit the deck.

  The hallway was filled with smoke as the men checked for injuries. All of them had flesh wounds but nothing serious. They crawled through the smoke, sensing vibrations on the floor of pounding feet ahead. They sounded as if they went down the hall, then they heard the elevator.

  “Alpha Four, multiple tangos coming your way. Remember, we want Cruz alive. We are on our way to you, copy,” said Stryker.

  “Got it,” replied Alpha Four.

  Stryker and team moved down to the landing when all hell broke loose in the kitchen. By the time they reached the elevator, three guards with AK-47’s lay dead amid hundreds of shell casings. Outside the elevator lay Pedro Luis Cruz bound, with Alpha Four standing over him.

  “What the hell happened?” asked Stryker.

  “The elevator arrived and the guards opened up on me. I was lucky to be behind cover. They all made magazine changes at the same time and I finished them. Poor training on their part,” said Alpha Four.

  “Yeah, looks like Cruz pissed himself,” said Dirk.

  “When his guards died he dropped his gun and raised his hands. I think he believed he was a dead man,” said Alpha Four.

  “Good job, let’s get him up. Put him in the chair next to the kitchen. Dirk are you ready to visit with our friend?” asked Stryker.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  Dirk explained to Pedro in Spanish that he had a choice to help them with Petloki and the Russians or he would become fish food. Should the men he smuggled into the United States execute terrorist attacks, he would be put to death. Pedro’s eyes widened as Dirk went into detail about his limited future.

  “Well, what did he say?” asked Stryker.

  “Oh, he definitely wants no part of any terror attack responsibility. He says he had no idea what the foreign men planned. He wants protection from the smuggling, the Russians and Petloki. I told him we would take care of that,” said Dirk.

  “Good, let’s get him on video and get out of here,” replied Stryker.

  While Dirk interviewed Pedro, Stryker called Herb on the satellite phone and told him to drive to the compound. He also called Sparks, advising him they would need to be picked up on the beach. He then called the pilots in Monterrey telling them to travel back to the United States and pick him up in Corpus Christi in two days. He finished the last call as Herb arrived.

  “Jake, you look like hell. What happened?” asked Herb.

  “Grenade. We all got bloodied, but nothing serious. We can’t go to the airport. There might be questions, so I called Sparks and he is coming to the beach at Carboneras. Cruz is on board with helping us and Dirk is finishing a video confession in case he decides to change his mind,” said Stryker.

  “I can’t wait to see the video,” replied Herb.

  “Yeah, should be a Grammy,” said Stryker.

  _____

  Ryan Sparks set the Agusta 109 down on a deserted stretch of beach south of Carboneras. The black helicopter blended into the darkness of the moonless night and he waited for the van.

  Taking no chances, Sparks stepped outside and took cover behind the skids with his M4 carbine pointed toward the sound of an approaching vehicle. Soon he saw headlights and breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing the van.

  “Hey Sparks, glad to see you brother. We are banged up but nothing serious and the results were definitely worth the trouble,” said Stryker.

  Herb grabbed the last of the gear and motioned for the driver to leave. After the van was out of sight, Sparks spooled up the turbine and the helicopter moved out to sea moving fifty feet above the waves toward the ship.

  Twenty minutes later Sparks slowed and descended onto the rear landing pad. He cut the turbine and tied down the helicopter. The men remained inside as the pad doors opened and the helicopter disappeared below deck. The doors closed above them as the men exited with their gear, leaving bloody trails from their seats.

  Rachel, Sara and the medical staff assisted them to a triage area and began treating their wounds.

  “What the hell happened?” asked Rachel.

  “We got careless… the grenade landed short,” replied Stryker.

  “You guys were lucky,” replied Sara.

  “Yeah, like they say, better lucky than good, but we are trained better than we performed that’s for sure,” he replied.

  “When everyone gets patched up a
nd eats some food we can watch the video of Pedro’s confession,” said Herb.

  28

  Gulf of Mexico

  2016

  Stryker rose from his bed dazed and confused. What time is it? he thought. He found his watch, not believing it was nearly noon the following day. He called for Rachel but she was gone from the suite. Slowly, he stood away from the bed and moved to the bathroom. He hurt all over and felt like hell. He found pain pills and took several, then proceeded to clean up and put on fresh clothes. Feeling better, he left the room and went to find coffee and Rachel. He found her in the serving area along with Herb and Sara.

  “We thought you were going to sleep all day,” greeted Herb.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” replied Stryker, looking at Rachel.

  “I was afraid you might lash out in your drug induced state,” she laughed.

  “I feel like hell. Where are we?”

  “We’ve had a change of plans and are cruising to the Bahamas instead of Corpus Christi. The men need to rest and heal. We thought you would agree,” said Herb.

  “I do, totally,” he replied.

  “The video gave us new information concerning the whereabouts of Ali. We still don’t have a complete picture concerning his targets. Cruz says he was paid in diamonds by Petloki to hire an assassin to kill you and me. Petloki also paid him to smuggle the foreigners. He knows nothing about Russians,” said Herb.

  “Are you sure he stated Herb? I mean did you check this with Dirk?” replied Stryker.