Fallen: A Daniel Briggs Action Thriller (Corps Justice - Daniel Briggs Book 2)

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Fallen: A Daniel Briggs Action Thriller (Corps Justice - Daniel Briggs Book 2) Page 18

by C. G. Cooper


  Natasha chuckled.

  “I think it’s time for you to say goodbye, Joe. Your services are no longer needed.”

  Just as Joe’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Natasha depressed the end of the lipstick tube, sending a radio signal to the fifteen receivers scattered around the island. The tiny receivers then sent an electric current into the thin explosive halos hidden inside the lining of each of the fifteen ball caps. The explosions were small compared to what one might see in a military demonstration, but they were plenty powerful enough to take off the tops of the heads of fifteen men disguised as private security guards.

  The top half of Joe’s skull was severed before he ever knew what happened. So localized was the detonation, that no blood reached the table. A thin line of it did hit Natasha’s upraised hand, but she wiped it away with a napkin.

  She took a seat, gazing down the table at the stunned expressions. Now they would listen.

  “As I was saying, gentlemen, tonight is only the beginning. For your safety, my personal security detachment will soon arrive to ensure your well-being. Until then, why don’t we begin the process of transferring your investments into The Pension’s bank accounts.”

  Natasha pulled a laptop from under the table and logged into her secure back office.

  +++

  Rex didn’t see where the explosions had come from. They’d almost sounded like fireworks. Maybe the Russians were celebrating. With Daniel gone, it was up to him to get eyes-on. Fog and his men had just hit the northern shoreline, and they would be ready to scale the fort’s walls soon. Rex had to push away all thoughts of his lost comrade and complete the mission. There would be time to mourn his passing later.

  +++

  CIA operative Julian Fog didn’t know what he was looking at. He could see the two forms on the ground, but they were obscured behind some scrub brush. Fog motioned for his men to fan out. When he got to the two bodies, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Lying on the ground, one half on top of the other, were two men in security uniforms with the tops of their heads gone. It didn’t make any sense.

  Fog radioed Rex. “We’ve got two tangos down on the north end. Dark security uniforms. Both skulls are gone above the forehead.”

  It took a second for Rex to respond. When he did he sounded winded, like he was running. “Are you sure?”

  “You think I’d make something like that up?”

  “Okay. Maybe there’s more bad guys we don’t know about. I’m almost to where I can see the parade ground.”

  “We’ll make our way to you.”

  “Roger. I’ll let you know what I see.”

  Fog took one last look at the dead men on the ground and then motioned toward the grass topped stone wall looming up ahead, where the old gun emplacements were. Something told him this was just the beginning of an interesting night.

  +++

  A dark mass emerged from the shallows, its form hunched and moving with no apparent haste. When it finally slipped out of the water and onto the sandy beach, the thing turned to the right and then to the left. Something inside its head knew it should move toward the large mass to the right, but its keen hearing caught the sound of something man-made to the left.

  A motor, its predator mind registered. On instinct, the thing broke into a run, its legs tireless, its lungs fully expanded, its primitive mind yearning for blood.

  Chapter 35

  The forty-two-foot Boston Whaler 420 Outrage approached the Georges Island dock at low speed. Someone had failed to turn on the lights on the dock, and the only lights the boat had were the ones on the console. Duane Morosov was not amused. He called to the man in the bow.

  “I’ll need you to spot for me. I can’t see shit.”

  “Neither can I,” replied the man. His submachine gun was strapped over his shoulders. If everything was going according to plan on the island, the three men on the boat wouldn’t need to use the weapons. They’d been handpicked by The Duchess. They knew all about the revised plan, about the attack against Joe’s men, and had no qualms about following Natasha’s lead. She’d given them their livelihoods in her father’s absence, and they would not forget it.

  The man in the bow said, “Twenty feet.”

  The coxswain threw the props in reverse for a second and then cut the engine.

  “Man the lines,” Morosov said, shouldering his own weapon and moving to join the guy up front.

  The boat thumped against the dock and the man with the bow line jumped out. After he secured the front of the vessel, Morosov stepped out and called for the guy in the back to throw him one of the stern lines. A line appeared out the darkness and almost slapped him in the face. He cursed as he snatched it from the air and bent over to secure his end to the dock.

  “Will you turn on the lights?” he asked the guy on the dock, annoyed that he had to work in the near pitch-black.

  His request was answered by a splash near the front of the boat.

  “Sammy, you okay?” he asked.

  No answer.

  He secured the last fender and moved to find the idiot who’d fallen in the water.

  “Sammy, what the fuck are you doing?”

  There was nothing in the water except tiny swells knocking up against the boat.

  “Sammy,” he whispered this time. Maybe the jackass had knocked himself out. Natasha would be pissed, but he wasn’t about to jump into the cold water and try to find the guy. Instead he went to find his second companion. “Miles, I think Sammy fell in the water.”

  There was a grunt from the stern. He lifted his weapon and said, “Miles? You okay?”

  No answer.

  Prickles spiked along his spine. He felt his finger move to the automatic weapon’s trigger as he moved to where he’d heard the grunt.

  “Miles, stop fucking around,” Morosov hissed. Miles was the joker of the crew. He’d even done a stint as a stand-up comedian. That ended when his hobby could no longer pay the bills.

  Now he could see the outline of Miles’s large frame. He was sitting on the very back of the boat, his face facing astern like a kid deciding whether he wanted to jump in.

  “Miles, what the…”

  His words stuck in his throat. Miles wasn’t sitting up. He was propped up by some kind of long wooden spear, the kind with the metal tip that they use on fishing boats, and it was sticking through the front of Miles’s throat and poking out the back of his neck at a downward angle.

  “Fuck,” the last remaining crewman breathed, backing away from the swaying body. He bumped into something solid, realizing too late that he was still too far from the console to be touching it. When he whipped around, his weapon was stripped from his hands and he looked up at the leering face in the darkness. The eyes studied him as if the shrouded humanoid was deciding what to do.

  Without warning, a hand clamped over Morosov’s mouth, and he felt himself moving. The thing was on top of him as they flew into the air and then splashed into the water. The frigid cold blasted what air he had left in his lungs, and he did his best to fight off his attacker.

  Two minutes later, Morosov’s body drifted away from the dock, the dark shadow already heading inland.

  +++

  Rex approached the main entrance cautiously, sticking close to the thick walls. He didn’t see anyone guarding the gatehouse. That was strange.

  When he reached the gatehouse, Rex saw the first body. Just like Fog had described earlier, this one had the top of its skull removed. Rex gripped his weapon tighter and swept the area with his night vision. No more bodies that he could see.

  As he slipped through the entryway, he didn’t see the dark mass passing close behind. Instead of following Rex, the skulking form chose another way. It entered the fort’s tunnel system.

  +++

  The cell door creaked open a few inches, and Pastor Walker looked up.

  “Hello?” he said.

  Silence answered him.

  “Is anyone there?” he tried again.
>
  Still no answer.

  As he went to lay his head on his knees again, something blocked the meager light in the doorway.

  “Who’s there?”

  Something dark and menacing shifted forward. Pastor Walker smelled something like damp earth and stale salt water. The shape moved closer. When it did, Walker caught what he thought was a hint of blond hair, obscured by something like a hood. When the form was close enough to touch, it bent down and Walker saw the eyes.

  They were different somehow, but unmistakable.

  “Daniel?”

  The form nodded without saying a word and reached out to feel how the pastor was secured.

  +++

  My mind snapped back to the present, the beast pushed away for the moment, as my hands touched the pastor’s restraints. The beast hadn’t been surprised to find the door open, and in my awakening I wondered if maybe Rex or Fog had killed the guard outside the cell, and told Walker to stay put. I had no way of knowing since I’d lost my earpiece during my fall into the harbor.

  My answer came a moment later as Walker stood up in one swift movement, the shackles clattering to the ground, a pistol with a silencer attached held in steady hands.

  “Where is Anna?” Walker asked, his once-quivering face now relaxed, his tone even.

  “You were in on it.” My voice came out in a croak.

  “Where is Anna?” he asked again, now moving around to put space between us.

  “Fuck you,” I said, my mind searching for the clues that I’d missed, the crumbs that had gone unnoticed.

  Walker smiled.

  “You really fell for it, didn’t you? The poor bumbling pastor. I’ll bet you never imagined I could pull this off.”

  This was a different man. I realized what he was, a chameleon. He was good. I’d give him that. To put on an act for so long. To bait me at every turn. I wondered how long he’d had me on the line.

  “When?”

  “When what?”

  “When did you start tracking me?” I asked.

  “I’ve got some locals who owe me some favors. One of them is that girl on the Pier, the one with the French Canadian friends.”

  “So you waited for someone like me to come along and then what?”

  Walker shrugged.

  “You military guys are all the same. Never back down from a fight. The ones that didn’t get the shit kicked out of them were offered a place to stay.”

  “Let me guess, at your farm?”

  “No. You were the first to stay there. We kept the others in neutral territory until it was time to move them,” he said, the gun still pointed at my chest.

  “What did you do with them?”

  He rolled his eyes like he didn’t have time to explain everything. Then he changed his mind. “They were put in the pipeline. Our clients have unusual tastes.”

  “So you sold them.”

  “Of course.”

  My stomach turned.

  “And then you came along. The way you dispatched the morons at the bar made us realize you were special. When you found the shelter and I let you disarm me, I knew we’d found our man.”

  I thought back to that day, to how angry I’d been, and how disgusted he’d made me by his confession. My temper had helped mask his ruse. I’d fallen right into his trap and ended up doing all the dirty work for him.

  “And Anna?” I asked.

  “What about Anna?”

  “Did she know? Is she part of this?”

  “Of course not,” he said, like the idea was preposterous. I wondered if he realized how twisted it sounded coming out of his mouth.

  “And what was there to gain? You manipulated me into—”

  His laugh cut me off.

  “I didn’t have to manipulate you. You did it all on your own. All we had to do was present the problem, and you did the rest.”

  He was right. I’d done it all willingly. He’d dangled the carrot and I hopped right after it.

  “I really wish I could’ve been there for the whole thing. What you did to Adam Eplar, the guy at the car wash? Masterful! The way you plugged those pricks at the brownstone? Classic! But what really made me respect you, what really made me realize we’d stumbled onto something special, was when you called in your buddies. Not only did the FBI play a key role in taking out our enemies, they even brought in the CIA to help. Man, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you stepped off of that train.”

  Anger and confusion coursed through me like a toxic mix of lethal drugs. For the first time I could remember, I couldn’t move. Even the beast in me cowered in a corner, covering its face with one massive paw. You are broken.

  I’d missed part of what Walker was saying. He was really enjoying his new role as master of intrigue. I listened halfheartedly as he bragged on.

  “Now that Joe’s gone and we have the managing members of The Pension in hand, I’m sure the CIA would love to make a deal with us. They have a long history of going with the winning team.”

  My eyes cleared and I heard a loud gong go off in my head, like a call to quarters. I was broken, but at least I knew it now. Something told me that even though I was broken I could be fixed. You are not lost, the voice said.

  My body relaxed. The beast growled. Walker went on talking.

  “So what do you say? You help me put this deal together and I’ll see if I can convince Natasha to give you a pass.”

  “And what about her father?”

  “He’ll have to go, of course. Natasha’s setting the groundwork for that now.”

  “And you’ll let me go if I help you?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  I nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  He only looked surprised for a split second. When he motioned for me to lead the way out the door, his face was full of confidence, the conquering hero for his beloved Natasha.

  “One last question,” I said, turning to look over my shoulder. He was a comfortable distance behind, knowing exactly how far a normal man would need to counterattack.

  “What?”

  “What happens to Anna?”

  Walker shrugged.

  “She’ll come around. Once she understands that the real world isn’t all rainbows and lollipops, Anna will become part of what we’ve built. I did this for Anna and for Natasha. This way I get my family back and a comfortable life to go with it. Don’t worry about Anna. She’ll figure it out. Kids always do when you’re honest with them. ”

  I nodded and turned back to the door, taking sure steps to the exit.

  No normal man could’ve attacked from that distance. But I was no normal man. With the flick of a switch, I unchained the beast.

  +++

  At first, Walker thought Daniel had tripped. Just to be safe, he took a step back. But as he watched, the dark mass sprang away from him and toward the wall. With a speed that left his mouth hanging open, Daniel rebounded off the wall and flew over the impossible distance between them. He’d twisted in the air, and Walker’s eyes went wide and met the dilated pupils of a monster. His hesitation cost him his readiness and then his gun. The collision with the stone floor blasted the air from his lungs.

  Like a Western gunslinger, Daniel whipped the pistol around in his hand and snarled. The barrel of the weapon was pointed in the other direction. Walker thought that maybe Daniel wouldn’t shoot him. That shred of hope lasted a second longer until the butt of the pistol slammed down on Walker’s nose.

  The beast did not stop until Walker’s face was a bloody pulp, and the pastor was well on his way to his final judgment.

  Chapter 36

  Rex Hazard and Julian Fog’s team watched as Natasha Varushkin called each man up to the laptop to complete their transactions. Video and audio were being relayed back to their makeshift headquarters where Georgy Varushkin was witnessing his daughter’s betrayal.

  Two-thirds of the table was done when something diverted Natasha’s attention.

  Rex looked to the right and saw a dark figu
re dragging something out into the huge courtyard.

  “Can you see who that is?” Rex asked Fog over the radio.

  “Negative.”

  +++

  Natasha finished the latest transfer, and excused herself from the table. She’d seen the figure emerging from the old cell block, and walked that way.

  He’d done it faster than she’d thought. Ed said this Daniel would probably try to save the day. Eddie thought that the drifter was some kind of war hero. When she’d given him the keys to the handcuffs and slipped the pistol into his lap, she’d made him promise to do it quickly. He’d smiled. Eddie had always been a show off. It had been his idea to go to seminary and become a pastor. He said it was fun pretending in front of all those hypocrites. Whenever they got together for secret liaisons, he bragged about how the parishioners loved him, and how this and that pastor would call and ask how he was doing such and such things.

  Now there he was, her Eddie. She recognized his clothes now. He was dragging something. It must have been heavy because he was walking backwards, straining to pull the load.

  “Eddie,” she said, now twenty feet from her soon-to-be second-time-husband.

  He just grunted like it was all he could do to pull the thing along the ground. It was a body. Why was he bringing the body? She could see that the face was smashed and bloody. What had he done?

  “Eddie,” she said as she reached out to touch his shoulder. “Why did you—”

  Eddie pivoted and grabbed her by the throat. She tried to claw the hand off, but it wouldn’t budge. Her eyes bulged as she saw the stranger’s eyes. They locked onto hers and refused to let go.

  “Eddie’s gone,” the man said in a raspy voice.

  The edges of her vision blurred. She tried to cry. She tried to scream. She tried to fall.

  The man held her up, his grip tightening, his eyes uncaring, unrelenting. Daniel, she thought.

 

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