Asher's War (Asher Benson #3)

by Jason Brant

  More bullets smashed into the roller-coaster train.

  The last few hit mere inches from Bree’s legs.

  If she stayed there any longer, one of them was bound to find its home.

  Bree shot at the men again, forcing them to take cover behind a series of turnstiles.

  She grabbed the rifle and vaulted over the front of the car, landing on the angled track. Her feet slipped out from under her, and she landed on her ass on the wood shoulder. The steep cant sent her sliding down toward the men, picking up speed.

  Jamming her boots down kept her from spinning, but it did little to slow her descent. Her body shuddered as her butt hit small gaps between the boards, jittering her aim as she tried to shoot at the men.

  One of them popped up and put a round right between her feet. A splinter of wood launched into her cheek, almost hitting her in the eye. Bree squinted against it and kept firing as she neared the bottom of the hill.

  The slide on her pistol locked back as she emptied the mag.

  Her boots hit the level part of the track and she leapt over the side, landing on the ground. She tossed the rifle down as she took cover behind a large, metal trash can. In a smooth motion, she dropped the magazine from the bottom of her pistol and jammed a fresh one in.

  Years of practicing for such a moment made her movements quick and precise, though her jangled nerves threatened to betray all of her training. If she paused for even a millisecond, her mind would freeze up on her.

  Bree glanced around the side of the trash can.

  One of the men had left his hiding spot and was advancing on her position. His firearm barked and a bullet ricocheted from the metal in front of Bree.

  Knowing they would have her pinned down if they got any closer, Bree dove to her right and rolled behind a sign with the name of the roller coaster on it. More rounds dug into the dirt and grass around her as she slid to a stop.

  The firing paused.

  Bree jumped up and saw that the lead man had emptied his gun. He was in the process of reloading when she put four bullets into his torso.

  Without waiting, Bree sprinted straight for him, keeping her aim true. As he fell to his knees, the man behind him came into focus. Bree emptied her magazine at him, but he ducked down again. She didn’t think anything had connected.

  “Manning, what’s your status?” Tate asked.

  Bree reached the body of the first man and plucked the M16 from his hands. He’d just stuck a fresh magazine in when she’d put him down, so she released the bolt and aimed just above the turnstile leading to the roller coaster.

  When the man peeked over the top, Bree shot him between the eyes.

  She slumped down, breathing hard.

  “Clear,” she huffed into the mic.

  48 – Security

  The next thing I knew, I was bursting into a small office and pointing two pistols in a man’s face. How I got there, I couldn’t remember. All of my thoughts were consumed in a blinding rage. That poor boy had lived through hell only to die alone in a box.

  He didn’t deserve what had happened to him.

  No one Smith had harmed deserved it.

  Bloodlust had taken over, and I didn’t even pretend to fight it. Everything that had happened to me over the past year had led to that moment.

  The man frozen in front of me sat before a series of security monitors. A few of the screens were nothing but snow, though a handful showed people dressed in all black shooting at men in gray suits.

  Drew had found me. I didn’t know how, but he’d found me.

  Knowing that my best friend was mounting a rescue attempt pulled back the veil of red clouding my thoughts and judgment for a moment. There was no telling how many of Smith’s men were out there. Drew and his team might not be able to take all of them on. He might need my help if all of us were going survive.

  And then I thought of Jamie missing an entire section of his head and the fury returned. I remembered my last kiss with Sammy. With that, the majority of my rationality left for Splitsville.

  He came to help you, Sammy sighed softly. Like I did. He’ll die in the dirt like me. Let it go, Asher. Be with me forever.

  I shook my head, jammed a pistol against the guard’s cheek. “Where is Todd?”

  “Who?” He held my gaze, eyes betraying no fear. His voice stayed calm, relaxed.

  “Tod... Smith. Where is Smith?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll kill you without a second thought and find him myself.”

  “Be my guest.”

  I grunted. He’d called my bluff. None of Smith’s men deserved to live, but that didn’t mean I was willing to kill an unarmed combatant. At that moment, I wished that part of my conscience would go away. Even through my anger, I had that little bit of humanity in there that kept me from pulling the trigger.

  Movement in one of the snowy monitors caught my attention as I mulled over what to do. Briggs stepped from the rear of a building and plunged through a row of overgrown brush. Drew practically fell out of the building behind Briggs. He hobbled along after the big Texan. One of his legs didn’t seem to be cooperating with him. Even though the quality of the video wasn’t top of the line, I could still see wet splotches on Drew’s clothing.

  Someone had shot him.

  The guard sitting in front of the monitors exploded from the chair in a flash. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me from the ground, driving us out of the room and into the hall.

  Before I could angle one of the pistols at his back and shoot him, the man pivoted and slammed me onto the floor. The concussive force of the blow sent one of the guns flying from my grasp, skidding down the hall.

  I held onto the other one, though the shock from the slam froze my muscles. None of my limbs wanted to cooperate. Hell, my lungs had decided to take a coffee break while I bled all over myself on the floor.

  On his knees beside me, the guard smashed my wrist against the floor until I dropped the gun.

  He reached for it.

  The pain from the blows woke my nervous system.

  I grabbed hold of his forearm and yanked him back.

  His fingers brushed the grip of the gun before he slid away.

  He pivoted, struck me across the face with a backfist. My head rocked back, stars twinkling in my vision for a moment, but I didn’t let go of his arm.

  I yanked him closer with my left hand while my right shot out like a piston. My knuckles grazed his ear as he slipped the punch and then drove an elbow into my chest, pinning me back to the floor.

  He was a good fighter. A damn good fighter.

  I was better.

  If he wanted to keep the fight on the ground, I’d happily oblige. He might have a chance to beat me on our feet, but on our backs, I’d strangle him to death with superior jiu-jitsu.

  I heaved his arm down even further, until his hand was beside my shoulder, then I swung a leg across his face and locked in an armbar. The back of my legs pressed against his face and chest while I pulled against his wrist with both hands.

  His arm slowly straightened out as I pushed against it with my hips until his elbow wouldn’t extend any further. Then I put even more pressure on it. I felt the joint begin to hyperextend.

  Even though the pain must have been enormous, the man’s face remained calm as I dislocated his elbow. It gave way and all the tension ran out of the hold. The joint bent the wrong way.

  Rather than give up, the man used the dislocation to counter. He rotated his body against my legs, rolling over until he faced the floor. That twisted his wrist in my hands even though I squeezed as hard as I could to keep him in place. All the blood, sweat, and grime covering every inch of my body made him too slippery.

  As he spun free of the armbar, his elbow popped back in place. He pushed to his knees, then his feet. He worked his arm several times as he stood over me, grinning.

  I kicked out, catching him on the chin with my heel.

  His teeth clacked together.<
br />
  Eyes glazed over.

  He fell forward, landing on top of me.

  If not for the fact that he was trying to kill me, it would have been really awkward having a dude straddling me while I was butt naked.

  I shifted left, snaked an arm around his neck, and slipped my head behind his shoulder. Squeezing with everything I had, I cut off the blood flow to his brain with an arm-triangle choke.

  He slumped in the hold after less than ten seconds.

  A snore escaped his lips.

  I released the hold and shoved him off me. He landed on his side with a thud. Then he snored again. With a groan, I got up and braced myself against the wall for a moment. It had been a long day of ass kickings and torture.

  At the end of the hall, I spotted a staircase.

  “I’m coming for you, Todd.”

  I bent over the man and removed his belt, then lashed his hands together with it.

  He mumbled and his eyes fluttered as I hauled him to his feet. The thing about chokeholds that they never show you in movies was they don’t keep someone out for long. Most people woke up after a few seconds.

  After picking up the pistols, I shoved him toward the stairwell.

  49 – Rescue Party

  The roar of a beefy engine made Bree’s head snap around. She hid behind a snow cone stand, feeding bullets into her rifle. Adrenaline had finally gotten the better of her, and the first few attempts to reload had her dropping rounds to the pavement.

  A black truck skidded around a children’s ride a few dozen meters ahead and accelerated toward the Ferris wheel.

  “Incoming,” Bree shouted. Both of her hands were full and she didn’t want to waste time using the microphone beside her shoulder. She’d moved close enough to the rest of her team that they could hear her anyway.

  Tate had put Shea down on the bench in front of one of the men Bree had shot. He worked at the pilot’s vest, trying to expose the wound he’d sustained. Huxx stood a few feet away, gun trained on the entrance to the underground facility.

  All of them spun toward the racing truck.

  Huxx fired at it.

  The bullets cracked the windshield and bounced off the hood and grill.

  Bree ogled at it. She’d never seen a bulletproof civilian automobile before. The Philadelphia SWAT had purchased a partially decommissioned light-armored vehicle from the Marine Corps a few years back, but the thing weighed a ton and was designed for heavy combat. The pickup truck certainly wasn’t a military vehicle.

  Tate fired off a handful of rounds that continued to crack the windshield, but did little to slow the truck.

  Chambering a cartridge, Bree knelt down and aimed at one of the front tires. She exhaled slowly and fired. The bullet hit the panel just behind the wheel. She hadn’t compensated enough for the vehicle’s rapid acceleration.

  She worked the action and fired again.

  The tire popped.

  Rubber shredded as the rim of the tire crashed against the pavement.

  Sparks arched from contact.

  The truck cut sharply to the right, the driver losing control.

  It collided into the base of the Ferris wheel with an enormous crash that boomed through the park. Glass, metal, and plastic flew through the air. A bloody splotch burst against the shattered windshield.

  Steam hissed from under the crumpled hood.

  The Ferris wheel squealed as it tilted sideways over Tate, Huxx, and Shea.

  It teetered at the brink of falling over, but held steady. All three of them stared at it, waiting for the giant ride to collapse on top of them.

  “Goddamn!” Briggs jogged up beside them. “You almost ate it there.”

  Tate looked over at Bree and gave her a nod.

  She would have grinned like a fool if she weren’t on the verge of a heart attack. That was the second time she’d saved his ass in the last five minutes. If they got out of there alive, she’d be sure to mention it a few hundred times.

  “Helluva a shot,” Briggs said. He grinned at Bree. “Good thing we brought you along.”

  “Is Shea all right?” Bree got up and ran over to them. “I saw him go down in the ball pit.”

  “Took one in the ribs,” Shea hissed. “Vest stopped it, but I can’t breathe worth a damn.”

  “You need an evac.”

  Tate grunted. “He is the evac. He’s the only one who can fly the bird.” He glanced at the sky. “And we need to get the hell out of here. That woman-child radioed in a few minutes ago. Won’t take long for them to find out what we’re up to and bomb this place back to the Stone Age.”

  “Not without Ash.” Detective Lloyd limped along behind Briggs. The side of his vest and one of his legs had soaked through with blood. He bent over slightly at the waist, as if a sharp pain stabbed at his stomach.

  “Time’s up and we haven’t even made it inside yet,” Tate said. “Two of you are hit and that damn wheel is about to fall on the entrance to the facility.”

  “I’m not leaving without Ash.” Lloyd straightened out. “Take him back to the chopper and get it warmed up. We’ll meet you there.”

  “You don’t even know how many men are still in there.” Tate set his jaw. “And you can barely stand. No way you can get him out of there yourself.”

  “I can do it. Besides, even if we get out of here alive, we’re all going away without him. He’s our bargaining chip,” Lloyd said. “They’ll toss us in a cage and throw away the key when we get back. If we have Ash with us, then at least we have something to show for all of this.”

  Bree knew that the detective didn’t give a damn about having something to use to bargain with the government. He wanted to get his friend back. She admired his courage in the face of such adversity, even as he bled profusely and was in obvious pain. He wasn’t a spec-ops tough guy like the others, but he didn’t lack courage or grit.

  “I’ll go with you.” She walked over to Lloyd and stood beside him. “I’ve got your six.”

  Lloyd put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.”

  Tate glared at both of them. “And which of you is going to carry his big ass out of there if he’s wounded? Neither of you has the strength.”

  “I will,” Briggs said. “No point in high-tailing it outta here without him.”

  Huxx kept his attention on the Ferris wheel. “We don’t have time to argue. That thing could come down and end the party before any hellfire missiles get here.” He turned to the group. “Jack will need help getting back to the bird. Briggs is bigger than I am, so he should go with Tate and Shea and get the chopper prepped. I’ll go with the two of them to find Benson.” He glanced at Briggs. “I’ve got a helluva lot more search-and-rescue experience anyway.”

  They all looked to Tate.

  His perpetual frowned deepened further as he mulled it over.

  “Fine. Let’s move.” He grabbed Shea under the arm and heaved him off the bench. “We’re taking off in ten minutes whether you’re with us or not.”

  50 – Cut and Run

  Getting the groggy man up to the next floor took more time than I wanted to delegate, but I needed a human shield for what I planned to do. Most of Smith’s men were either dead or gone. I’d felt the presence of a lot of them when I’d first woken up in whatever compound they had me trapped in, but the majority of them had winked out.

  A few thoughts and emotions had bombarded me momentarily before they slipped away. I took that to mean that most of them were dead. I wouldn’t cry into my pillow over their loss.

  Several of the blank voids of consciousness remained nearby. I hoped at least two of them were the men I was looking for. Smith and his number-one flunky, Man in Black, had a few things to answer for.

  The guard I’d choked out had fully woken up as we exited the stairwell. He’d attempted to spin out of my grasp, but a swift rap on the back of his neck with a pistol had adjusted his attitude. I only held one of the two guns I’d procured. The
other was secured in the back waistband of my prisoner. With his hands tied in front of him, he couldn’t reach it. And I didn’t have anywhere else to keep it.

  My bare feet padded on the cool floor as we walked past two doors and stopped in front of a closed third. It didn’t have any markings on the outside or even a window to see in.

  Four men waited inside.

  “Open the door,” I hissed into his ear.

  “Fuck you.”

  I gave him another love tap on the back of the head.

  His knees buckled. I grabbed the back of his jacket and held him up until the strength returned to his legs.

  “I can do this all day, asshole. Open the door.”

  He hesitated. I was about to brain him again when he reached for the doorknob. I placed the muzzle against the base of his skull and shoved him through when I heard the latch click open.

  We stumbled into darkness. Flashing lights blinked at us from banks of servers lining the far wall. Tables sat to either side of the room, computer components covering them. The large server towers whirred loudly.

  Two men stood in front of the computers, yanking rectangular parts out of them. I didn’t know a whole lot about the workings of electronics, but I figured those to be hard drives because I’d seen Nami dicking around with a few of them in her office. They were preparing to cut and run.

  Another guy stood on the right, a hammer in his hand. Smashed bits of metal cluttered the table in front of him. Homeboy was destroying evidence the old-fashioned way.

  Smith was on the left, a large, stuffed duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He was sliding a tablet into the bag when he looked up and saw me.

  “Todd!” I shoved my hostage at Smith while pulling the second pistol from his waistband.

  The evidence destroyer swung around, lifting the hammer up.

  I put two in his heart.

  Both of the men along the back wall charged forward. Neither made it halfway across the room. One of them veered sideways, hands clutching his bloody chest. He reached toward Smith as he staggered like a drunk.

  Smith sidestepped the guard with ease.

  As I spun my guns in his direction, he slid a black pistol from the bag and pointed it at my chest.