Cyprus Rage

by J E Higgins

  He had wanted to wait until he had all the mercenaries on board the ship before initiating the attack, that way he had them trapped unable to escape. What few remained and tried to escape would be picked off by the rear team. Unfortunately, not having a lot of time to plan and prepare, their cover was not concealed enough and several of the mercenaries at the pier had taken notice of his men moving behind the berm. That his Greeks got anxious and initiated the attack throwing grenades, which landed on the bow of the ship. Once they went off, he and Yadav quickly followed suit lobbing their own grenades and hailing bursts of fire.

  They had managed to pin the mercenaries down in the fire when they heard an explosion erupt from somewhere just behind them. Looking over they saw a huge plume of smoke emerge from the location where the other team had been staged. The half-destroyed boat frame and the lifeless bodies splayed out told the New Zealander what he needed to know. Soon, he was watching as a force of enemy mercenaries moved steadily up the hill and began circling around toward the far end of his position.

  Grabbing hold of Yadav’s shoulder, he pointed his friend to the encroaching threat of men moving in their direction. Without hesitation, the Nepali, lowered his muzzle as he swung around and moved up to the other side of the woodpile where he had a view to engaging them. Rhys followed up behind his comrade as they both went on to lay down continuous bursts of fire toward the flanking attackers. The enemy mercenaries moved up in a widely dispersed pattern as they took up the far flank of the wood pile. They moved up the slight hill leading from the beach and found cover amidst debris and rocks at a far angle to where Rhys and Yadav were. Though he wanted to use grenades on this aggressing force, both men knew they were in too close proximity to do so.

  Ali and his men had dispersed several meters apart from each other as they began laying down controlled fire where every other man fired a quick three to four round burst that kept a continuous fire on the men behind the wood pile while conserving ammunition. They hadn’t been able to circle all the way around with all the obstacles that would have bogged them down. However, they were able to apply enough force to keep the two men distracted.

  Sauwa had broken off from Ali’s team as they were beginning to flank the men at the wood pile. Carefully, she slipped behind an over-turned boat that provided cover until she entered a thicket of overgrown grass that concealed her as she moved slowly around to the front of the wood pile. The white sparks generated from the spray of gunfire had ceased though she could still hear the sound of AK-47 fire going off nearby. That told her that Ali and his men had done their job and diverted the attention of their attackers. Not taking any chances, she still kept her movements slow and calculated as she lowered her hand down in front of her to brush away any dried leaves or other debris that would omit noises that would alert the threat.

  After each brush with her hand, she would set her foot precisely in the cleared area. She continued this pattern until she had made it all around to the far side of the wood pile. Drawing her rifle off her back, she brought it into her hands and shoulder as she slid along the last few steps. Peeking around the corner she saw the two men, one, an Asian looking man, lay prostrate on the ground seeking cover behind a thick dirt mound. The other, a white man, was knelt down pressed against the wood of the pile. Both were faced with their backs to her, as they fired back at the Palestinians across the way.

  Pivoting on the ball of her foot, she moved into a more stable position with one foot forward and stabilizing herself on her opposite knee. With only a small portion of her frame exposed from cover. She raised her weapon and let loose a burst of fire that exploded into the back of the Asian man tearing into his spine and muscle tissue. The man yelled out in terrible agonizing pain until another few shots from her weapon finished him off.

  She transitioned to aim in on the other man and found him turned back in her direction. His weapon pointed directly at her, he fired. She barely missed the shots that whizzed past her and splintered the wood as they tore into the pile just inches over her head. Sauwa lost her footing and in a desperate effort to avoid the gunfire, rolled out into the open.

  She retrieved her balance and stance just in time to catch the man pivoting in her direction and angling his rifle toward her once more. Drawing her weapon, she fired quickly. Having no time to accurately sight in the shot went off wildly. It cut close to the man, hitting the nearby ground and grazing his skin. It was enough, however, to cause him to drop his rifle and fall back slightly.

  Seizing the opportunity, Sauwa raised her weapon in his direction. This time, she situated her weapon until she could look down the barrel properly. At the same time, the man had recovered his composer and regained positive control of his weapon as he turned back to face her. The two were now looking at each other with the cold steely gaze of seasoned killers. Neither moved as their fingers froze on the triggers of their guns, each anticipating the instant response of the other the second the trigger from either weapon was pulled.

  The tension was interrupted by the high-pitched howling sound of police sirens emanating from a distance and steadily growing louder. The shooting from the Palestinians maintained, but Sauwa figured it was only matter of time before they broke and retreated. Slowly the man across from her rose to his feet, his weapon still fixed in her direction he began moving past her. As he did, she kept her focus on him as she pivoted on her knee to keep him within her line of sight. He continued walking until eventually disappearing over a berm leading down toward a patch of shrubbery and into the protective shadows of a nearby building.

  At the same time, Sauwa moved back toward the edge of the woodpile and carefully retreated out the way she had come. Linking up with Ali and his men they moved back toward the pier to check on the casualties. Along the way down, they were met by Gorzo and what was left of his team. Which comprised all of two men. Apparently, their adversary had a much better fighting position to defend from and Gorzo had lost quite a few men to an unfortunate storm of grenades being lobbed at them.

  With no time to waste they moved down to the pier and began a quick search for survivors. It was a fairly quick search wading through the sea of lifeless corpses that lined the path as they floated onto the wooden porch. The grenades had done their job inflicting dire wounds that ensured a hasty end to most of their old comrades. Those that they did find still breathing were in a condition too bad to assume they would last much longer.

  A couple of the Palestinians managed to make it onto the trawler, but the ship was completely destroyed and, like the pier, was a morbid picture of vile carnage. Whoever the grenades were unable to kill, the gunfire did. Walking along the pier, Sauwa, followed closely by Gorzo, came upon the body of Sacchini. His lifeless eyes were staring into nowhere with half his torso ripped from his body. De’vor’s eye had been shot out along with the entire back of his head. Carzona, their employer, was a lifeless corpse floating face down in the water.

  The sirens were getting louder, and the police would arrive shortly. Everyone dumped their weapons into the water and started to retreat. Just before their departure, Sauwa and Gorzo were caught by the sound of a low, deep moan from somewhere amongst the dead. The two moved back to quickly investigate and found Tarkov lying under a couple of bodies. His body was awash with dark red blood that was nearly black, the sign that vital organs had been hit. He would be dead soon.

  “Carzona?” He managed to ask.

  Sauwa and Gorzo shook their heads in response to his question.

  Tarkov nodded dismally. “We can no longer take the planned route. This trawler was meant to take us out to meet our contact ship. Even so, Carzona was the point of contact for who would be meeting us for the changeup. If he’s gone, then this plan is no longer an option.”

  “We’re on our own,” Sauwa stated sympathetically. “It won’t be the first time.”

  “There is another option,” the Russian said. “How much money have you got left?”

  “Most of it,” both mercenaries
said at once.

  Tarkov fought back the pain, as he reached toward the side pocket of his jacket. Unable to retrieve the contents, Sauwa did it for him. It was an envelope stuffed with the Russian’s remaining expense money. “Take this,” he said. “Outside of the city in the village of Zygi, I made special arrangements with a man.” He pointed to a small piece of paper tucked inside the envelope. “For that amount of money, he will smuggle you and the remainder of your team out of the country.”

  The two mercenaries looked at each other with shock. They went to pick up their commander, but, he waved them off weakly. “I’ll be dead soon. If not, then the police will offer better than what you can right now. So go, and don’t look back.”

  Reluctantly Sauwa and Gorzo rose to their feet and started to walk away. The feeling of leaving their former leader did not sit well with either of them. Yet, the sound of the police arriving offered little time for sentimentality as the two followed the direction that the Palestinians had taken. They raced across the field and through one of the buildings where they had trained and practiced in so many times and emerged onto a road leading them away from the police.

  Down the street, they caught sight of the Palestinians running well ahead of them. They watched as the tail end of the group ducked down one of the only available side streets. They followed at a quick jog hoping to eventually catch them. They were a short distance from the turn when they heard a barrage of gunfire. Sprinting to the corner, they turned just in time to see the Palestinians being mowed down by men dressed in workman’s clothes and carrying sub-machine guns. In the tight confines of the narrow street, there was little room to move and no place to seek cover. That left the unarmed Palestinians at the mercy of the new assailants who moved on them with the tactical proficiency of military professionals. Moving up along both sides of the street in teams of three that ran parallel to each other. They proceeded spraying-controlled burst in a cross-fire pattern that ensured they captured all angles of the street. Those who tried to run were easily hit before they even got close to the outside road.

  Sauwa and Gorzo both watched in horror as the last of their team fell to the pavement. Sauwa wanted to do something but she was unarmed and the street before them was a death trap. She watched as the last of her team fell lifeless to the pavement. She felt a hand powerfully grip her arm and yank her. She realized it was Gorzo taking her by the arm as he moved to make their escape. Understanding there was nothing to be done about their comrades now, she allowed her feet to get into the rhythm of her compatriot’s as they continued down the main street.

  They had only made it a few paces when a dark van approaching from the opposite direction quickly swerved across the street in front of them cutting off their escape. The side door of the vehicle flew open with men dressed like workmen emerging. The men leaped from the van and marched the last few meters toward the mercenaries. Without saying a word one of the men raised his arm in their direction. A loud cannon-like noise thundered in the air. Sauwa felt a warm moist liquid oozing all over her. She looked down and saw Gorzo lying on the street in a thick pool of blood. The back of his head was completely gone.

  Realizing this was the end, Sauwa glared back at the men. She breathed deeply as she prepared for the inevitable. “Well?” she said. “I know how it works. Let’s get on with it.” There was no bitterness or even fear in her voice. Nor was there any sign of it her manner. She looked calmly at the man holding the gun in her direction, accepting her fate as if it were a natural law. She knew she was destined to meet her end on some lonely street. The last sound she heard was the crackling from the gun being discharged.

  She felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Shortly after that, her vision became blurred and she could feel herself sinking weakly to her knees. Her last vision was of a lamppost with a black raven sitting atop it looking down on her.

  She woke up to blurred vision and a head that was swimming. The feeling of velvet brushed smoothly against her face and arms. It took several minutes before her sight came back into focus. She found herself in a bedroom of some sorts with plush leather furniture, walls lined with wood paneling and a door leading to what looked like a washroom.

  Sliding off of what she figured was a bed, she came to her feet and attempted to stand up. She was still groggy, and she had a hard time maintaining her balance. Eventually, she gained enough of her faculties to make for the door. She opened the door and found she was staring down a long narrow corridor. With several doors up both sides of it. She could only assume they were other bedrooms. She stumbled onto the wood flooring and started making her way down the hall.

  “Stop!” cried the voice of a woman who enjoyed the ability to reach a deep octave. She turned to see a woman she recognized instantly. A tall, brawny woman with bleach blond hair tied tightly in a bun atop her head marching toward her with the commanding presence of a military general. Olga Vashvili was Valikov’s personal assistant who managed his itinerary for his most important affairs.

  She marched up to the South African. “I was just coming to check on you.” Her voice was cold and abrupt. “Mr. Valikov wished you to join him the second you were awake.” The woman towered over Sauwa and used her height to her advantage confronting the South African in a deliberately domineering way. “You can meet him as you are, let’s go.” She snapped while waving her hand to punctuate her order.

  The large spacious room with the long black marble meeting table in the center was an all too familiar sight. Sauwa recognized it instantly. It was the meeting room on Valikov’s yacht, the Cossack. Her dealings with the yacht were limited having only been on it when it was docked at port and then she was taken straight to the meeting room where her master conducted his work and received visitors of a business nature.

  Seated at the far end, enjoying a glass of what she presumed was vodka and a cigar, Andre Valikov cast his attention down at the documents sewn in a disorderly fashion on the table in front of him. Olga wrapped at the door to announce their arrival. Valikov looked up and smiled pleasantly as if it was all an unexpected surprise.

  “Aw, Sauwa,” he began. “Please come and join me.”

  A sharp nudge from Olga sent a reluctant Sauwa pacing slowly to the other end of the room. Directed to a chair at the table that sat adjacent to her master, she sank down into the cushion.

  “I must thank you for a mission well done,” Valikov said as he beamed with fatherly joy. “You performed exactly as I thought you would.”

  Sauwa’s face registered a look of confusion. “What are you talking about? Everyone is dead including our employers.”

  Valikov’s face beamed as he leaned back in his chair and began puffing his coffee-colored Cao brand cigar. Then it came to her. “Carzona and his people were never the clients. It was the other side all along.”

  The Russian shook his head. “Not all along. I knew about Kalopolis’ dealings with this shadowy group and of their little plan to usurp their native government by fomenting mass insurrection in their country before my old friend Tarkov and his brown employers came to me asking for my services. The problem was it was a lucrative contract I wanted, and my competitor had. I knew if I put you on the team going in that you would find a way to engineer his death leaving me free to pursue the contract as well as many others of the late Mr. Kalopolis’ previous accounts. With one of the biggest arms traffickers in the region now gone, his former clients are scrambling to find a new source for weaponry. I just happen to be one of the few operations able to meet their orders. This single operation has already garnered me twice the amount of my usual business. And, the best part, my hands are entirely off of it. As far as the world knows, it was vicious Arab terrorists who killed Kalopolis and attacked the Limossal port.” He smiled devilishly while he basked in the sensation of his own brilliance.

  Sauwa stared at him, completely appalled at what she had just learned. “Tarkov, Sacchini, and the others all died for nothing. You sent us to be slaughtered.”

  “Oh,
no,” Valikov waved his hands innocently. “That was all you and those you were up against. I had no hand in what happened there. I just made sure you were able to complete your mission successfully and in the wake of it all, the right people got the blame.”

  “Right people, blame?” she looked at him puzzled.

  “Why do you think I sent Palestinian mercenaries to augment you? Why do you think the mercenaries I initially recommended were those who had long histories working for Arab governments in the Middle-East? Theo Kalopolis has long supplied weaponry to Arab militaries and paramilitaries. When the police identify the bodies, the natural assumption will be that this was all retaliation for a deal gone bad between Mr. Kalopolis and some Arab terrorist group.”

  Sauwa’s eyes suddenly widened as she stared back at the Russian in utter shock. “Then it was your people who killed Gorzo and the rest!”

  “At the pier, no,” Valikov leaned forward as he shook his head. That was all the work of the enemies of your Philippine employers. My understanding was that their masters wanted to present a show of strength with that retaliation.”

  “You said it was them at the pier.” Sauwa’s eyes narrowed as she looked deeply at the Russian. “Then later, those men who killed Gorzo and the Palestinians?”

  Valikov smiled and allowed a slight nodding of his head. “That was me. Your activities in Cyprus garnered a lot of attention. Not just from the local police but from several countries who have taken notice of your actions. It was necessary to tie up loose ends. This way, it looks very much like the liquidation of your friends was done by an assault team the Israelis sent to eliminate known Palestinian terrorists. I had previous information about the impending attack and decided it worked in my interest to let it happen. Knowing what additional messiness it was going to create on top of what had already transpired, I couldn’t allow any survivors. So, I took the precaution of having some teams on site in case it was necessary to clean up any leftovers. A man was situated in an observation post watching the whole thing. When you ran he merely directed the closest team to your route of egress to cut you off and finish what had been started at the pier.”