Deadly Intent: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 4)

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Deadly Intent: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 4) Page 4

by Sumner, James P.


  Especially Tori...

  God, I love her. She lights a fire inside me that hasn’t burned in a long time. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.

  I need to clear my mind and stop worrying…

  I walk back upstairs and into the bedroom. Tori’s still sleeping. When I get out of bed, she does this thing where she stretches and rolls over to the middle, spreading herself out, seemingly aware that I’m no longer there. I look at her for a moment before putting my jogging pants and running shoes on. I pull a T-shirt on and quietly make my way back downstairs and through into the bar.

  “Coming for a run, Styx?”

  He looks at me and does that thing animals do when they cock their head slightly on an angle when they stare, as if asking if you’re joking.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I say to him. “Come for a run, you lazy mutt.”

  He growls at me for a second, then stands and stretches before walking over to the door. He looks back at me, as if to say, Come on then, let’s get this over with…

  He’s a pretty cool dog.

  I step outside. The very first rays of the morning sun streak across the sky as it readies itself to rise for another day. Styx appears next to me, looking around and sniffing the air. I stretch my legs for a few moments, and then set off jogging down the street. I can tell Styx is running slower than he’d like to, so he can keep pace beside me.

  I’m heading in the opposite direction to the grocery store and the companion club. I cross the street and take a left at the end. There’s a slight rise that leads to the station house. I’ll swing by and see if the sheriff’s around while I’m out... Plus, the uphill run will be a great workout.

  I haven’t turned into a fitness fanatic, but I do have a punching bag at the back of The Ferryman, and I enjoy a run a few mornings a week. I’m not getting any younger, and Tori can be a handful sometimes—in the best kind of way.

  The things men do for their women…

  I reach the top of the rise and follow it to the right. The station house is across the street from me. Two squad cars are in the parking lot out front, but there’s no sign of life. Must be too early for the sheriff today.

  I continue on, and a couple of cars pass me going the other way. It’s getting lighter, and the town is starting to wake up. I run past the drug store, which is now more than just a place to pick up your aspirin. I bet they make a fortune… marijuana and cocaine is the new alcohol and tobacco. Not too expensive that the lower and middle-class can’t afford them, but priced high enough that it’s a very profitable business. The taxes from which continue to fund the new America and Cunningham’s re-election campaign.

  A few doors farther along, I see the local barbershop. It’s a small business, but one that’s been around longer than most people around here. An old-timer named Ray Hooper owns the place. He’s a great guy, comes in for a drink every Thursday evening without fail. He’s black and pushing eighty, with tight gray curls on his head. He’s sweeping the street out front, as I approach.

  “Mornin’ Adrian,” he says as he bends down. “Hey, Styx.”

  I stop for a moment to catch my breath. Styx isn’t even breathing heavy. He sits in front of Hooper and waits for the inevitable patting his head’s about to get.

  “Mornin’ Hoops,” I say, in-between deep breaths. “You’re up early… How’s things?”

  “Oh, y’know… same ol’, same ol’. You and Tori keeping well?”

  I smile. “We’re alright, Hoops. I’ll tell her you were asking.”

  “Hear you got a visit from some suited gentlemen last night…”

  “You gotta love a small town,” I say with a wry smile.

  Hooper laughs. “You know how it goes, man… So, everythin’ alright?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just procedure after I threw those guys outta my bar.”

  “Well… you jus’ watch yaself, y’hear? Whole town likes you, son. Wouldn’t want nothin’ to happen to you.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  He turns and heads back inside his barbershop. “I mean, if you left, where would we drink?”

  I shake my head and laugh, then set off running again. I turn left at the end of the street. I’ll head back down to the main strip and take a left, back to The Ferryman. I’ve done a good circuit, and I’m suitably tired now.

  A car passes me, heading in the same direction. After a minute, I see another one. Styx growls at the second one as we come up to the end of the street. We turn left again, and I see The Ferryman up ahead on the right. Both cars that just passed us are parked outside. Styx growls again and speeds up. Something about those cars seems to have spooked him…

  I keep pace as best I can and head for the bar. As I get closer, my spider sense starts tingling. I don’t like those cars either. I don’t know why, but with everything that’s happened in the last couple of days, my paranoia is working overtime.

  I reach the front door and find it open. I know I shut it… Styx starts growling louder.

  “Easy, boy. Keep quiet now,” I say.

  I take a look at the cars. Both sedans, both white. Definitely rentals. Potentially up to eight guys, four in each... As I push the door open and step inside, I hear a woman scream.

  Tori!

  Without thinking, I rush across the bar and into the back. I can’t think of anything else except getting to her. I don’t know who these guys are, or what they want, but I swear to God, if they hurt her, I’ll kill them.

  I round the bar at full speed, heading for the back, but I run straight into a fist. The shock of the impact sends me staggering backward, but I manage to keep my balance, leaning on the bar for support.

  Really should’ve thought about this before running in...

  I look up as four men walk out. Big guys, wearing jackets and jeans. A quick assessment tells me they’re all different nationalities, so I can only assume they’re associates of the three recently deceased men who came to see me the other night.

  Styx is barking wildly, and I hold my hand up to him, signaling for him to stand down.

  “It’s alright, boy,” I say, before looking at the men in front of me. I take a few paces back, moving into the open space of the bar. They fan out around me. Upstairs, I hear another scream, and I clench my jaw muscles, fighting to contain the anger building inside me.

  “Whatever you’re after, just take it and go,” I say to no one in particular. “Just leave the woman out of it.”

  None of them makes a move; they just smile and stand their ground.

  I reckon I can take them—they don’t have any weapons that I can see. I just need to get to Tori.

  Three more men appear in the doorway from the back and stride purposefully toward me. The last one in has Tori with him. He’s standing behind her with his hand over her mouth. She’s wearing a thin T-shirt and her panties. The bastards must have dragged her out of bed as she slept.

  My heart rate’s increasing, and I’m finding it very hard to focus on anything other than my anger. It feels like a volcano bubbling away inside of me, waiting to erupt and spew violence across the land. I look over at her. Her eyes are wide with shock, and I see the fear as she struggles to stop herself crying.

  “Tori, are you okay?” I ask. “Have they hurt you?”

  She doesn’t react—it looks like the guy’s got a strong grip on her, holding her still. The new arrivals join the semi-circle of men in front of me. The guy with Tori stands in the center. He’s an average looking guy, just under six feet tall, probably weighs around two-ten, maybe two-fifteen. He has a Mediterranean look about him, possibly Turkish, I’m not sure.

  He’s the one who speaks.

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Adrian,” he says. “But you should have taken the first offer we made you.”

  I look along the line, left to right. A real mixed bag of bad guys. Whoever this supposed terrorist network is, they aren’t too picky about who works for them. In fac
t, the only criterion for employment seems to be that you have to be a known badass. Or at least think you are, judging by these guys.

  Styx is by my side, his fur raised and teeth bared. He’s not going to attack until I tell him to, but he’s ready.

  “Like I told your friends the other night, I’m not interested in any job offers. I run this bar, and have no intention of doing otherwise. I didn’t kill your friends, but I am gonna kill you if you don’t let her go and leave here right now.”

  The line of assholes start laughing, not taking me seriously.

  I’m very out of practice. Problem is, I don’t want to get back in the swing of things in front of Tori… she doesn’t need to know what I’m capable of. But I can’t see any other way out of this.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit…

  Think, Adrian—think!

  I take a few deeps breaths and look at the line again. This time, I’m looking professionally. I try to forget about Tori for a moment and focus on what I’m good at.

  They all look capable, which is a concern, but not a big one. At the end of the day, if you push me, I’ll push back. I might not have an Inner Satan anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be Adrian Hell, even if I no longer live his life.

  “Okay, last chance,” I say. “Let her go and walk away—tell whoever sent you that me, and this town, are off-limits. Then maybe, maybe, I’ll forget all about this.”

  Another ripple of laughter. The man holding Tori speaks again.

  “I can see why he wants you. But what makes you so confident? You’re outnumbered seven to one.”

  “Very true, but from where I’m standing, you boys don’t have weapons, whereas I have three.”

  He frowns, and the rest of them look at each other. “Three?” he asks.

  I hold my hands up one at a time and ball each one into a fist.

  “There’s two…” I say, gesturing with my hands. “And the third is standing next to me, looking at your throats.”

  It’s funny, but they hadn’t paid any attention to Styx. He’s a wild-eyed wolf that’s almost six feet tall when he stands up on his back legs. Whether you’re scared of dogs or not, Styx is an impressive beast, and is definitely cause for concern if he’s snarling.

  They stop laughing. I think they’re finally taking me seriously. About time!

  The trick with a large group of attackers like this, usually, is to hit the one doing the talking. Whoever talks first is the leader, and if you crush their strongest member emphatically, the rest tend to back down quickly.

  Problem I have is the one doing the talking is the one holding Tori, and I imagine he’s smart enough to keep her next to him, too. Which leaves me with the other six.

  In this particular situation, I need to hit hard, hit fast, and hit first.

  I look at Tori. I hold her gaze until I’m sure she’s thinking about nothing else beside me. Then I wink at her. She visibly relaxes, and I feel better knowing she knows I’m about to save her.

  Then I take a step forward. Just one. It’s always enough to prompt an attack in these situations. Someone will always step to meet you, like an instinct, to maintain the appearance of strength and control.

  This time, the two guys on the left step to meet me.

  Now I know I’m going to win. These idiots just showed me their hand. If they had any training, or any common sense, whatsoever, the guys at each end would’ve come forward, immediately surrounding me, creating two separate targets, and making it harder for me to fight. But they didn’t. Two guys standing side by side came at me. Giving me one, very easy, target.

  Merry Christmas, me!

  “Styx… lunch time!” I shout and step toward the two men on the left. He barks and sets off charging behind me. The first guy, on the far left, goes straight for my throat, but I grab his wrist and twist it away from me to my left. As he moves his body with it, I jab him twice on the nose, breaking it and causing his eyes to water, which impairs his vision.

  I whip my right leg forward, kicking the guy next to us hard in the groin, before smashing my right elbow into the first guy’s throat. Both are down for the count in a matter of seconds. I quickly glance behind me to see Styx clamping his jaws on the left thigh of the man on the far right.

  That’ll keep him busy…

  The two on the right of the guy with Tori step forward next. Their lack of organization and tactics baffles me, but I’m not complaining.

  As the first one gets within reach, I thrust my left hand into his throat, and then step into him, bringing my right elbow into his face. He drops to the floor, and I start to spin counterclockwise, crouching as I do. I turn around and punch the second guy in the gut. Then, I stand, using my elbow to smash him in his face. He crumples to the floor next to his friend.

  I look over again to see how Styx is doing; he’s sitting staring at me with shreds of flesh hanging from his fangs. The guy he went for is on the floor, unconscious with blood pouring out of his leg.

  The remaining guy, on the left of Tori, hesitates and looks at his leader, who looks back and shouts at him in a foreign language, gesturing at me with his head. The other guy sighs and reluctantly walks toward me.

  I let him throw the first punch, because I almost feel sorry for him. I block it easily, knocking his arm away with my left hand, before punching him hard in the sternum with my right. I step into him, using my right elbow to hit him again, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to the floor in a heap.

  I look back at the one remaining guy, who’s moved Tori directly in front of him. He’s peering over her shoulder, looking very shocked and concerned.

  “Let her go,” I say.

  He moves his hands, positioning one on her jaw and the other at the base of her skull. I look him in the eye, searching for a sign that he’s bluffing, and that he doesn’t really intend breaking her neck.

  “Fuck you!” he shouts.

  He’s not bluffing… shit!

  I can’t rush him, because he’s standing a good ten feet away from me—he’ll snap her neck before I can get close enough.

  Styx starts growling again, but he holds steady.

  I’m running every outcome through my mind. I keep eye contact with Tori to reassure her she’ll be fine.

  A few tense moments silently pass, but noises sound outside and distract me. I look out the window and see two more cars screech to a halt outside the bar. Eight men get out, forming a line. They’re all holding assault rifles…

  The guy holding Tori smiles, like he knows he’s just beat me.

  I look at her. “Tori… I’m so sorry,” I say, as the shooting starts…

  7.

  06:02 CDT

  As the bullets start flying, I race over to Tori, keeping as low as I can. The guy holding her moves, dropping for cover, but I get to him first. I grab his hand from around Tori’s jaw and break two of his fingers. As his grip loosens, I push Tori to the floor.

  “Stay down!” I shout over the noise.

  I watch as she moves into a fetal position, covering her ears with her hands, and screaming in fear. I feel terrible that she’s been dragged into all this, but I stay focused on the guy. I punch him hard in the stomach, and across the face, before grabbing his collar and spinning him round, launching him into the center of the bar. I dive for cover behind the bar and look over as he stands, disoriented for a brief second, before being riddled by the bullets peppering the building from outside. He flails backward, landing a few feet away, looking like Swiss cheese. Blood escapes from his lifeless body, quickly forming a large pool around him.

  I sit on the floor with my back to the side of the bar, looking at Tori and thinking about how we’re going to get out of this in one piece. I guess I should accept the fact that I’m not going to be able to hide my past from her after this. She’s just seen me take out seven guys, and she’s about to see me take out eight more…

  I crawl behind the bar and reach under the coun
ter, retrieving the custom Beretta 92FS with the engraved butt that I have taped under there. Now isn’t the time to think about how much I’d actually moved on. I’m just glad I still keep some of my old habits. Like preparing for every eventuality. As I check the mag’s full and flick the safety catch off, I briefly contemplate what it says about me that I must have subconsciously known that something like this would happen at some point, regardless of how much I try to move on.

  I sigh and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and my forehead on the barrel of my pistol, thinking about what comes next. Tori seems to momentarily overcome her fear, as she opens her eyes and crawls toward me.

  “You can’t stay here,” I shout to her. “It’s not safe.”

  “What about you?” she yells back. “And where did you get that gun?”

  “Don’t worry about me—I’ll be fine. Just get into the back and go upstairs. Get in the bathroom, barricade the door shut, and lie down in the tub with the cover from the bed over you. Stay there until I come and get you. I’ll shout to you, and I want you to shout back and ask for the code word. Do you understand? The code word is hellbound, and if I don’t say it, don’t let me in.”

  “Adrian, I don’t—”

  “Just trust me, please. Let me handle this. Now go!”

  She looks at me, confused and afraid, and then nods slowly. She turns and scrambles across the floor into the back. As soon as she’s out of sight, I stand and fire off a few rounds out the window, catching two of the gunmen to the left of the line and dropping them. I duck back behind the bar and take a few deep breaths, controlling the adrenaline rush I’ve not felt in a long time.

  Six left, but the gunfire seems relentless.

  I can’t stay here, as I’m a sitting duck, but I don’t know where else I can go. I just have to bide my time, wait for them to change mags, and be accurate when I return fire.

  The bar’s starting to disintegrate around me from the perpetual onslaught of bullets. Another minute passes before I get an opportunity to return fire. I quickly poke out the side of the bar, keeping low, and pick off a guy on the right.

 

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