The Protector

by Gennita Low

  “She sure knows a lot of big bad words for a little girl, boss,” the translator told Dilaver with a laugh. “Binchy-san buku diep. Kontet kolong-doh.”

  Vivi turned to the other man and spat in his direction, struggling to go after him. Dilaver laughed at her stream of invectives. “What did you say to her? Look at the spitfire! Man, she’s going to be something in bed.”

  “I told her she’s a pretty lady and that we want to put our pricks in her pretty pussy.” The men roared. Minute almost up. Time to plant the seed of suspicion. Vivi’s sharp warning had the interpreter chuckling. “She said, ‘Fuck you and she hopes the Triads kick your ass for going into their territory.’ I guess we have reached the right place, boss.”

  Dilaver laughed and reached for the rest of Vivi’s clothes. “Let’s get you out of this thing and see whether you can really fuck m—” His hold loosened as the earth shook with the first explosion. “What the hell—”

  Vivi didn’t wait as she tore away from Dilaver, leaving most of her blouse in his hands as she slipped under the truck. Shots erupted. The ground trembled from explosions and weapon fire. Game time.

  Where the hell was she? Jazz darted from shrub to bush to rock, moving at a steady rate into the midst of the firefight, his eyes sizing up the situation as quickly as possible. The bedlam of the initial surprise attack was slowing down into a deliberate duel between sides. Many of the enemy lay dead or wounded from the first blast and surprise attack. Vivi’s men had taken out most of the men that were looking out of the truck. The few that had dived into the ditches had a big surprise from Cucumber’s and his det cord. From what he could gather, most of the surviving hostiles were from the fourth and fifth trucks.

  The rat-tat-tat of submachine guns sallied from different directions and he had to be careful not to be caught in the crossfire as he moved toward the truck with the trailer. Smells from gunfire mixed with smoke and dust permeated the air.

  Where was she? He cast glances in different directions, worry gnawing at his guts. Vivi’s team, for some reason, was dressed in black, making the men unbelievably easy to spot. What the hell was that all about? Two of them lay injured, howling and moaning, fifteen or so meters away from the third vehicle with the trailer. Even with the sounds of gunfire, he could hear the screams coming from inside. He hoped to God none of the girls was injured.

  Vivi’s blouse. It lay on the ground by where she was last seen. Dilaver had been all over her. The bastard couldn’t have dragged her with him, could he?

  Jazz squinted through the hazy air to look farther up the dusty trail. He could see figures running toward the last truck. He had a bad feeling about this.

  He knew Cucumber had been following him as he had made his way closer and he signaled to him to move forward. The big SEAL appeared at his side in moments, a satisfied grin in his face.

  “I forgot to say, ‘Look out!’ when they jumped into the ditch. Ooops.” He indicated his side of the ditch where Jazz could clearly see the bloody effect of his handiwork.

  “Cover me,” Jazz said. “I’m heading down there to find Vivi. See that blouse?”

  Cucumber glanced at where he pointed, registered the article of clothing on the ground, and his smile disappeared. He looked back at Jazz. “Go,” he said grimly. “I got your six.”

  Jazz nodded. He checked his weapon and sped off toward the kill zone. A lone wandering goat bleated as it zigzagged through the bushes.

  Well, it was good she was still wearing a bra. She hadn’t quite anticipated Dilaver throwing her over his shoulder as he headed down toward the other trailer. She had thought that as he realized he was being surrounded, he would drop everything and opt to escape. She had also assumed the first thing on his mind would be the weaponry in the other trailer. Not her. But the arms dealer seemed determined to have a woman even in the midst of an ambush.

  Her mind on taking over the rapidly emptying truck, Vivi had been taken by surprise when he had gone after her. The cries of alarm coming from the trailer were heart-rending, and she had to ignore the urge to run back there to reassure the girls. But she needed to get them out of harm’s way as quickly as possible. She had to crawl out from under the truck to get into the cab. Her focus was on the possibility of anyone still inside the truck. The butt of Dilaver’s weapon had glanced off her head hard enough to make her see stars for several seconds, and before she realized what was happening, she was hanging upside down and seeing the object of her operation growing smaller and smaller as Dilaver ran off with a few of his men. He was in good shape, she vaguely noted, as she shook off the pain.

  Of course, none of her men would dare to intervene. They had strict instructions to let Dilaver escape. They did, however, manage to pick off two of her captors. That left—she tried to count upside down as her head smacked against Dilaver’s back—six. Maybe. She couldn’t see very well with the blood rushing to her head and making her headache worse.

  She had split seconds to decide her next course of action. Right now, Plan B had been, if she was killed, and thus failed to secure the girls’ trailer, one of her commanders would take over the responsibility. But she was still alive. She strained her neck trying to see whether anyone was running toward the trailer. She hoped the two figures in black on the ground weren’t dead. Please, let someone succeed at getting to the trailer before the girls were all shot.

  “Get the truck with the weapons! We need the weapons!” She heard Dilaver shout to the few men rushing back toward the trucks. “We’re going to get those bastards!”

  She was shoved into the cab and Dilaver and two others squeezed in amid sounds of men scurrying into the back, shouting at one another. She peered over the dashboard. The last truck that had sped past them was blocking much of her view, locked in battle with some of her team. She could see dead or injured bodies hanging over the canvas railings. She grimly noted some of those on the ground wore black. Those were her men.

  If Dilaver decided to stay and fight with his weapons, more of her men might fall. Not willing to sacrifice any more lives, she started to point and shout, then curled into a ball in panic.

  “Shut her the fuck up.”

  “She’s saying ‘Triads,’boss. Those fuckers are Triad men. Seems like that put the fear of death into the villagers. Look at her.”

  Dilaver turned and raked her with his eyes. “Ask her how the fuck she knows. Hold the truck from going in after our guys.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Covering her bosom with one hand, Vivi backed away as far as she could from Dilaver in fear; she gestured animatedly with the other hand. The interpreter grabbed her by the neck, demanding answers. She pointed again, using all the local euphemisms for the Triads.

  “She’s calling them, I think, second brother’s enforcers. Sam Tai Yeh is the standard clan name for the Triads in this area. I believe we’re in the second brother’s territory.”

  “Of course we are, you fucking idiot. We’re supposed to meet him! Why the hell are his men ambushing mine?” Dilaver slammed his hand on the dashboard. “I thought we had a deal!”

  “Maybe he wanted the weapons free, boss. Those damn slant-eyes are pirates at heart. They don’t like doing business with foreigners, traditionally. They don’t understand business our way.”

  “Money is fucking business-understandable!”

  “Look up there, boss! One of them is driving our trailer away.”

  “I think they believe they have our weapons, boss.”

  “Let’s go get the bastards, show them what we have here. Chase down our trailer. We aren’t going to let them take it.”

  Dilaver drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Start the truck,” he ordered. “Those back there! Let’s use the big stuff!”

  Vivi had been silent as she listened to their exchange. Grimly, she watched the truck rolled forward. Dilaver might be another arms dealer in most spooks’ books, but she knew better. He armed the KLA in Serbia and was known to have taken part in several very bru
tal battles. He knew how to conduct a thorough massacre. She wasn’t going to let him expend his energy against her people. Later. Against the Triads. That she had no objection to.

  “I’m heading up further out of the kill zone,” Jazz informed the team through his helmet intercom. He hoped Hawk was picking up. “No time to coordinate. I think they have Vivi.”

  There was a pause. He imagined they were still busy over the other side of the river. Watching from his end, he could see Dilaver’s men were determined fighters. He aimed his weapon and fired off a few rounds. Needed to go very quickly now.

  Hawk’s voice suddenly crackled through. “Cumber?”

  “He’ll take my six then go back when this is over to report. I’m going in pursuit, over. This is just for me, over.” He had no intention of jeopardizing any of his teammates because of his whims.

  “Don’t kill Dilaver, Jazz.”

  “Sorry, can’t hear ya, bad connection,” Jazz said. He wasn’t promising anything. Not if killing Dilaver meant getting Vivi back alive. He signaled to Cumber, who signaled back. He was going after those running off. Alone.

  “You realize if you die out there, I’ll have to tell your mother and sisters that you were drunk and drowned accidentally?” Hawk piped in again.

  Not answering. Standard answer to all family members asking about dead relatives who were killed in covert military maneuvers. Accidental training death.

  “So you son of a bitch better get back here alive. I’m too busy back here to get over there to save your ass.”

  Not answering.

  “You sure?” Cucumber asked, pulling up alongside again.

  “Yeah.” He pointed to the final truck blocking his path. “That one has the most live fire. We need to take that down, although Vivi’s team is doing a good job. They are taking down too many of her men trying to secure the truck with the trailer. Let’s intervene.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Go!”

  They ran like hell, firing their weapons toward the truck. They hoped Vivi’s team would know who they were and not shoot at them. It was a damn risky move but they did it anyway. Jazz was counting on Vivi’s men recognizing them. It dawned on them that maybe that was why those men were watching and “playing” with them during the SEALs’ morning training sessions. Had they been familiarizing themselves with his team? Jazz and Cumber jumped into the ditch.

  Jazz ignored the dead men close by. Heart pounding, he worked two grenades out of his harness. Then he changed his mind and handed them to Cucumber instead. The other man took them from him, surprise on his face.

  “You get the men when they scatter out,” Jazz explained. “I’m heading in myself first, then flashbang them out with gas. You got your mask?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you’re gonna need it.” He pulled his from his back harness. Looking around, he tore off the front of the black uniform of an injured operative and draped it to the front of his. “Sorry, buddy, got to borrow this. Medic will come and take care of you soon, okay? Cumber, I’ll take the truck and go after Dilaver with it. Hopefully, wearing this black T will make Vivi’s men know I’m on their side and they won’t decide to go after me in a mask.”

  “How are you going to get Vivi with that truck? They’ll know you’re behind them.”

  “No fucking clue.”

  “That’s a great fucking idea.” Cucumber pulled out his mask. “Go!”

  “On the count of three!” They readied themselves. “One, two, three!”

  “Look in the back and see what they pulled out from the trailer.”

  The man sitting closest to the window leaned out to look at the back of the truck. “They have grenades, some of the submachines, and the RPG.”

  Dilaver nodded, eyes trained on the trucks ahead. “Tell them to get the grenade launcher ready. No fucking way I’m going to allow them to take anything of mine so easily. Launch one at the trailer with the girls.”

  “Our truck there is in the way, boss.”

  “Fuck the truck. Drive close enough so we can pick up whoever is still around it and blow the truck out of our way. I want that trailer taken down. They aren’t getting their hands on my girls.”

  Vivi sat there, stunned. The scumbag was willing to blow everyone to bits, including young girls, just to get back at his “enemy.” A rocket propelled grenade launcher meant no survivors to any truck or tank it hit.

  She came to a quick decision. To make sure her men had a fighting chance of getting the girls out of the area, she would have to expose herself. Take out the driver and Dilaver before the truck got too close. The probability of her surviving that was…She looked ahead, catching the tail end of the all-important trailer. If Dilaver reached his men in the truck ahead, there would be too many of them against her team trying to extract the girls, especially if they were going to use explosives. The RPG would kill all the girls and her men, too.

  She couldn’t allow for this operation to fail, not now, when so many lives were involved. Her shoes had been equipped with blades that were meant for emergencies. She moved her feet into position, her eyes on the scene ahead, watching the truck and the men getting bigger and bigger.

  “Shit, boss, look at that guy gassing our men!”

  Vivi frowned. She could see one of her men in a gas mask. She couldn’t remember any of them with any. He had thrown something into the truck. A grenade? No. All the occupants were jumping out, holding their faces and throats. CS gas.

  Dilaver’s expression was grim as he noted how his men were slowly picked off as they escaped willy-nilly, blinded by the gas, uncaring about their safety as they sought to escape the burning sensation. A bunch of hardened killers brought to their knees, gasping and holding their throats. They were close enough that Vivi could see the bloody splatters appearing on their shirts as her men took the dozen or so thugs out. With a small shudder, she looked away for a moment. This was more than she was used to seeing.

  “Stop.”

  The driver applied the brakes hard and Vivi pushed against the dashboard to stop from going into the windshield. That should teach her to look away again. She had to concentrate on what was happening. This wasn’t the time to be grossed out. She returned her gaze to the sights ahead with dogged determination, trying to figure out what was happening.

  “Turn around,” Dilaver ordered. “Keep firing the weapons so they can’t come at us. We can’t go in. They have gas and we don’t have any masks. We’ll just end up like the others. Back up.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “We’ll figure out a plan in the woods. Take out the map.”

  The truck shook and its tires squealed and rumbled as the driver obeyed Dilaver. A few bullets hit the truck, and Vivi could hear the screams from the injured men. A few who were hanging out fell off onto the ground. One body rolled down the front of the windshield and landed with a thud over the large hood, blood smearing the glass. Vivi remembered to scream. She pulled her foot away from the driver, changing her mind about stopping him. Maybe her time to die wasn’t quite now.

  A bullet suddenly cracked the side mirror. “Blow that truck up. That should keep them from using it to chase us down.”

  Vivi couldn’t see anything as the truck turned from the chaos but she could hear someone climbing above the cab. As they pulled away, there was a loud whistling whoosh and the truck shook from the ensuing blast. She glanced at the smashed side mirror as they took off down the road. The other truck was on fire. Her heart sank at the thought of the dead men, especially the one in the gas mask. He couldn’t have survived an RPG blast. He had saved her life. She had been about to sacrifice hers when he did what he did. Her eyes welled up in tears for the anonymous man who had taken her place. At least the girls were safe now.

  A hand groped her thigh, and she glanced at Dilaver. He was as cool and dangerous as an unused stick of dynamite, a small smile on his lips.

  “Poor little girl. Not such a spitfire anymore, are you? I’ll wipe tho
se tears off later, I promise.”

  She wasn’t supposed to understand what he was saying but his roving hand was quite specific. She pushed his hand away, her skin crawling from his touch. There wasn’t much room to move, squashed as she was against the men in the front. She crossed her arms in front of her as she stared back at him unblinkingly, her chin jutting up in defiance.

  Dilaver stared back for a moment, then shrugged. “Bring out the maps,” he ordered.

  Vivi hugged herself tightly as she listened to the men figuring out their next move. She was in a dangerous situation, among men who put very little value on lives. She had just witnessed exactly how little when they had sent their own men to their deaths to ensure their escape. As a young goat-herdess, she was pretty much valueless. But as a GEM operative, she still had a weapon or two up her proverbial sleeve. She would wait for the right moment, give herself a chance to escape without getting killed. She owed that at least to the man who had died for her.

  CHAPTER

  17

  The road was dusty and filled with potholes, and every bounce and groan of the truck jarred Vivi’s bones. Her captors ignored her as they reworked their plans, pointing to various sections of their maps.

  She listened quietly, gauging the enemies’ intellect. Dilaver’s orders were crisp and decisive. He was a good strategist, albeit a bloodthirsty one. He wanted revenge in a big way and told the interpreter that he wanted him to go into town to pay for informants. The man had just lost four trucks, men and a trailer of “goods” to someone he had thought would be a new business partner. He didn’t want to leave without letting the other side know that they had made an enemy for life.