Rogue

by David Leadbeater

  Rogue pulled her opponent in front of her, still aiming the gun. “Get out and let him go. Who are you? Mercs?”

  Spencer was still tangling with his opponent on the floor, but the man was quickly getting the upper hand. Rogue heard steps behind her.

  “What?” the man she was talking to said. “You thought there were only four of us?”

  She whipped around, dragging her prisoner and throwing him into the newcomers. He struck the first of three men, but they all scattered. She opened fire, seeing no alternative now. This was pure kill-or-be-killed battlefield warfare. She shot a man in the chest, another in the head, leaped at them and rode them to the ground. Her forehead struck the floor close to the third new guy’s boots. She reached out and pulled his ankles away, saw him fall onto his spine and shot him in the stomach.

  The man she’d used as a prisoner was on her legs now, weighing her down and recovering fast.

  “Get him outta here,” someone shouted. “Take him. Shit, she’s lethal wildfire with legs.”

  She knew what they were doing. A blow jolted the back of her neck, smashing her face into the ground and breaking her nose. Blood flowed. Her gun was still in her hand. She twisted to shoot her attacker, but he pushed her down with all his weight.

  Boots passed by to her right. The mercs were dragging Spencer along. The geek fought. He flung his weight around, and tried to tear away from their grasp. He pounded his fists at body armour. He kicked at their ankles. One of them slammed a rifle butt against the top of his head to quieten him. Rogue fired on semi-auto, smashing a man’s lower legs to bits. He fell, screaming. But the man on her back hit her again and again.

  As darkness crowded her vision, Rogue forced herself to remain conscious. She heaved and turned and brought a right hand hard across his jaw. His head whipped to the right, jaw visibly broken. Her gun was trapped beneath her. She grabbed hold of his jacket and flung him into the wall, then rolled with a leading elbow and took some teeth. His eyes rolled up into the top of his head.

  Rogue scrambled upright with the gun. She ran to the door.

  There was a man standing at the end of the corridor.

  “Follow us now and he dies,” he said. “Meet us at Carney Fairground in thirty minutes. You’ll get to see Miller and the gang.”

  He spun and was gone. They were making her meet them on their terms, on their turf because, even with superior numbers, they couldn’t beat her.

  Rogue grabbed her go-bag and got clear of the hotel.

  CHAPTER FORTY ONE

  She’d never liked fairgrounds at night. They looked desolate. Abandoned and unwelcoming. Sometimes they reminded her of her own bleak situation.

  But not anymore.

  She stole through the fence. She’d already marked the sentries and the fairground’s layout. The rides covered a square mile and stood in total darkness. A man was positioned on the Ferris wheel, another atop the dodgem enclosure. Two more lay prone on top of the ghost ride and one of the basketball stalls. She’d seen a group of men standing close to the rollercoaster, around the hut that controlled the ride. Spencer was among them.

  Rogue wasn’t going easy. She knew there was no coming back from this. Either way, they’re gonna kill us. It was a hard and ill-fated way to end what, despite its ordeals and losses, had turned out to be a productive operation.

  She secured her backpack and readied weapons. It would be the knife and the Glock to start with. She crawled across the muddy field, finding deep shadows at the base of a ring-toss stall. It was a poignant moment. She remembered this place from the night before her parents were brutally murdered – they’d spent a few hours at the fair, telling jokes and eating ketchup-covered hot dogs, buying sugary donuts and queuing for the big slide. She fought the memories down now. They wouldn’t help. She found focus and moved to the next stall until she was right underneath her first target.

  She breathed easily, taking in the cold morning air. A faint glow was starting to illuminate the eastern skies, the onset of a new dawn. She grabbed hold of a rope that held one of the signs in place and used it to slither up the side of the stall. She inched over the edge before silently dropping onto her target’s body, clamping his mouth and cutting his throat. He died without a sound.

  She moved to the next.

  Three went down without a murmur. To be fair, two of those were gang members rather than mercenaries. After that, she paused atop a food stand, planning her next move. There were only two more high targets left, and then the group of figures. She knew she couldn’t hope to get close without using the SIG which would give her position away to everyone within earshot.

  Still, she needed its power to even the odds.

  She sighted in Ferris wheel man, settled her shoulders and elbows and breathed deeply behind the scope. One squeeze of the trigger and she saw his head explode. Swiftly, she adjusted her aim and took the other man out.

  Near the rollercoaster, figures were moving fast. She sent three quick shots into their midst before throwing the SIG over a shoulder and slipping down to the ground. She landed in shadow, but even that advantage was slowly being eroded by the onrushing dawn. Now, she sighted her gun and ran straight for the rollercoaster.

  She fired rounds left and right, stopping a running man in mid-stride and sending him hurtling backwards. She shot four more but figured there were still eight or nine left alive.

  She’d gotten a good haul.

  She slid across the grass and the dirt, one foot forward, churning up the mud and stopping behind the side of a toilet block. Bullets slammed into the concrete wall she’d just passed. She ran around the other side and emerged firing, taking at least one man out before they all lunged for cover.

  She was already at the rollercoaster hut. There were two men inside. One was Spencer, the other an armed merc.

  “Don’t come any closer,” the man said, holding a gun at the geek’s head. “Drop your weapon.”

  Rogue didn’t hesitate. She laid her SIG on the floor. She saw the merc start to grin and open his mouth to shout. As she rose, she flung her knife with an underhand stroke. The point hammered right into his forehead. He was dead before he knew it, and Rogue was already at his side.

  She turned to Spencer. “You hurt?”

  “No. I’m okay.”

  “Stay close. Do as you’re told.” She gave him the merc’s gun. “Shoot when we leave the hut. Just shoot anywhere. You ready?”

  “Am I Butch or Sundance?”

  She grimaced at the reference, but then turned and started to run. Spencer was at her heels. Rogue shoved open the door and ran into the rising dawn. A crimson and gold sky lit the horizon, flashing between the rollercoaster’s tracks, highlighting its long climbs and deep dives. She punched the gun’s trigger, spraying semi-automatic rounds at every hideout she could see. Spencer opened fire too. Bullets riddled the area, slamming into brick and block and timbers and metal. She heard shouts of agony, of fear. Her feet flew across the churned-up grass. A skinhead rose to her left. She rolled, firing and coming up onto her feet in one smooth movement. He flew back against a wall, stomach pouring with blood.

  They reached the safety of the toilet block. Instead of sheltering or running to the next place, Rogue ordered Spencer to give her a quick boost onto the roof.

  Up there, she slithered to the edge. Quickly, she spotted two skinheads already out in the open. One merc was following them. She pinpointed two more positions. She fired three shots, killing the exposed men quickly, then crawled back and jumped to the ground.

  “Here,” she handed Spencer her Glock, and reloaded the Sig.

  “How many?”

  “I figure three more mercs. Maybe two skinheads and Miller. Did they say anything to you?”

  “Only that he can’t get over his son’s death. But they made him do this.”

  “What? He told you that?”

  “Yeah. He seems-”

  A brief glimmer caught her eye, movement at Spencer’s back. To his cre
dit, he also saw a movement at her back and rose almost as fast. Figures had rushed around the toilet block on both sides, a two-pronged attack. Rogue fired over Spencer’s right shoulder and he over hers. Together they took down two men.

  One remained. Rogue sensed it. She bore down on Spencer, spinning and firing, falling to her knees. Her bullet killed the man just as his own parted the air where Spencer’s head had been.

  They waited. Both on their knees. Guns aimed.

  “Thought I was done with all this,” Rogue said.

  “I doubt that,” Spencer said.

  She couldn’t wait any longer. She tapped Spencer’s shoulder and told him to follow. Cautiously, she crept around the toilet block and peered out at the fairground. The sight that met her eyes gave her pause.

  One skinhead and one mercenary remained. They were standing out in the open, one on each side of Marcus Miller.

  All three men held weapons. And where two faces were implacable and severe, the third held an expression of grief, of hellish loss.

  “You killed my son,” Marcus Miller said.

  Rogue emerged slowly, SIG shifting between all three of them.

  The skinhead started waving an arm and getting agitated. “I’m in charge here,” he snarled. “It’s my gang. Bitch, you better put down that gun and get on the ground. I’m gonna fuck you up.”

  “Stop talking, idiot,” Rogue said. She didn’t have time for his hollow intimidation tactics. “If you didn’t notice, your gang’s all gone.”

  “You killed my son,” Marcus Miller repeated.

  “I’m truly sorry,” she replied. “I’ve regretted it every day.”

  She could do no more for him than respond truthfully, with dignity and respect.

  “I’m broken,” Miller said. “I’m finished. There’s no more hope.”

  She got the impression he wasn’t only talking about the loss of his son. “There is a way forward,” she said, thinking about her birth parents and how she’d never let their deaths go. How she’d never let two wonderful, loving foster parents see a single ounce of love. “I don’t know what it is,” she admitted. “But I’m sure there’s a way.”

  “Thanks for your honesty,” Miller said in a voice filled with finality. “I do appreciate it.”

  “Hey,” Rogue took a step forward, lowering her gun.

  But then Miller shot the skinhead at his side before shoving the barrel of the gun into his own mouth and pulling the trigger.

  Both bodies collapsed. Rogue was left staring at the one remaining mercenary. The guy looked confused.

  “Well?” Rogue growled.

  He turned and started to run, heading for the fence. Rogue walked over to Miller, mostly to check he was dead and not lying there suffering.

  She knelt at his side and laid a hand on his back. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t blame you for coming after me. I wish I could have helped.”

  “He didn’t ask,” Spencer said, coming up to her. “Maybe he should have.”

  “I would have helped.”

  “I know.”

  They both stood for a minute, the fresh sunrise coating their faces crimson, a blush of warm sunshine caressing their shoulders.

  “How did they know where we were?” Spencer asked.

  Rogue pointed at the far fence. “Let’s go. The cops are coming. I just wish I could leave a place sometime without being chased by the bloody constabulary.”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard you, and I don’t know,” she paused. “though I do have my suspicions.”

  “Do those suspicions involved Juliani?”

  She parted the fence and pushed him through. “Why do you ask that?”

  Spencer paused, looking around. “Shit, you do realise this is the most exposed way we could have come.”

  She shrugged. “Danger all the way. If you wanna stick around, you’d better get used to it.”

  “He was here before you turned up,” Spencer said. “With Miller and Liam, the skinhead Miller shot. Every time the skinheads found us, Juliani was the rat.”

  “It was the only explanation.”

  “Don’t tell me you knew before he walked out of that hotel room.”

  “No. That was the clincher.”

  “I don’t know where he is now.”

  “I do,” Rogue said. “But we’ll let him settle before we pay him a visit.”

  “We?”

  “I’m guessing I’m stuck with you now.”

  “Any idea why he would betray you?”

  “There’s only one reason. Family. My guess is the brotherhood who controlled Miller had connections with the Florida drug-running syndicate Juliani works for. They’ll have threatened his wife and kids.”

  “Will you train me?” Spencer said after a minute if speculation. “Guide me? Push me?”

  “Until your balls ache.”

  “Whoa,” Spencer shook his head and winced. “Not sure I’m ready for that kind of intensity yet.”

  “It’s your choice, nerd. Either you give it your all and work until your past doesn’t matter, or you get squeezed back into it. So choose, right now.”

  He met her gave with a strong smile.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Good,” she said. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  THE END

  If you enjoyed ROGUE, please let me know at the email address below. Part 2 is already underway and will be released later in 2019, featuring a more epic adventure, where Rogue tracks down the Jackal terrorist group before it unleashes a devastating attack on mainland America.

  In Matt Drake news look for the new novel in April.

  If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review.

  Other Books by David Leadbeater:

  The Matt Drake Series

  A constantly evolving, action-packed romp based in the escapist action-adventure genre:

  The Bones of Odin (Matt Drake #1)

  The Blood King Conspiracy (Matt Drake #2)

  The Gates of Hell (Matt Drake 3)

  The Tomb of the Gods (Matt Drake #4)

  Brothers in Arms (Matt Drake #5)

  The Swords of Babylon (Matt Drake #6)

  Blood Vengeance (Matt Drake #7)

  Last Man Standing (Matt Drake #8)

  The Plagues of Pandora (Matt Drake #9)

  The Lost Kingdom (Matt Drake #10)

  The Ghost Ships of Arizona (Matt Drake #11)

  The Last Bazaar (Matt Drake #12)

  The Edge of Armageddon (Matt Drake #13)

  The Treasures of Saint Germain (Matt Drake #14)

  Inca Kings (Matt Drake #15)

  The Four Corners of the Earth (Matt Drake #16)

  The Seven Seals of Egypt (Matt Drake #17)

  Weapons of the Gods (Matt Drake #18)

  The Blood King Legacy (Matt Drake #19)

  Devil’s Island (Matt Drake #20)

  The Alicia Myles Series

  Aztec Gold (Alicia Myles #1)

  Crusader’s Gold (Alicia Myles #2)

  Caribbean Gold (Alicia Myles #3)

  Chasing Gold (Alecia Myles #4)

  The Torsten Dahl Thriller Series

  Stand Your Ground (Dahl Thriller #1)

  The Relic Hunters Series

  The Relic Hunters (Relic Hunters #1)

  The Atlantis Cipher (Relic Hunters #2)

  The Disavowed Series:

  The Razor’s Edge (Disavowed #1)

  In Harm’s Way (Disavowed #2)

  Threat Level: Red (Disavowed #3)

  The Chosen Few Series

  Chosen (The Chosen Trilogy #1)

  Guardians (The Chosen Tribology #2)

  Short Stories

  Walking with Ghosts (A short story)

  A Whispering of Ghosts (A short story)

  All genuine comments are very welcome at:

  davidleadbeater2011@hotmail.co.uk

  Twitter: @dleadbeater2011

  Visit David’s website for the latest news and
information:

  davidleadbeater.com

  Copyright 2019 by David Leadbeater

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase any additional copy for each reader. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Thriller, adventure, action, mystery, suspense, archaeological, military, historical, assassination, terrorism, assassin, spy