Brink of Extinction | Book 1 | Sudden Impact

by Shupert, Derek

  I sighed. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m not working with anyone, and have no knowledge about a hit out on any of your properties. Why don’t you ask Gao? He seems like a good candidate for wanting to make a move on you.”

  Andrès nodded, then paced back and forth. “Oh, I plan on paying Gao a visit. He will pay for the wrong he has done me. As for you, I just find it suspect that you show up at my chop shop, that has never been hit mind you, with your little friend here, then this happens.”

  I sighed. “Listen. I don’t know many different ways I can say that I have no clue what you’re talking about. What possible motive would I have to attack you while also working with you? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Andrès glanced at his men, then back to me. “So, you have no clue who the five white men were who murdered my crew and slit their throats? That’s what you’re sticking with?”

  White men? Five-man team?

  It took a minute for the light bulb to go off inside my head.

  Scarface and his crew of mercs tracked me down.

  I didn’t want to believe the notion. “How do you know they were white, and how many there were?”

  “One of my boys arrived on the scene as they were leaving the shop. Three of the men were outfitted in tactical garb and carrying assault rifles. The other two were dressed in nicer threads and hauling similar hardware.

  I stared at the ground.

  How the hell did they find me?

  Silence filled the cellar as Andrès waited for a reply. He rapped his dress shoe against the concrete with his arms folded across his chest.

  One of the guards behind him turned away, then placed the palm of his hand against his ear.

  Andrès glanced over his shoulder, watching the brute. “Is everything all right?”

  “The dogs are barking and carrying on. Plus, we have a few men who have missed check in,” Brute replied.

  Gunfire sounded from the spiral staircase.

  Andrès flinched, then turned toward the entrance. His men pulled their Glocks from the waistband of their jeans and covered the archway.

  My muscles tightened. I held a bated breath, watching the entrance for the bogeymen who had been chasing after me.

  Andrès looked to me with a scowl. “You’re a dead man. I’m going to handle your friends up top first, then I’m going to deal with you and your friend.”

  The tromping of heavy footfalls pounding the stairs jerked Andrès’s chin back to the entrance of the cellar. He pulled a gold-plated Glock from behind his back, and trained it at the opening.

  Juan stumbled down the stairs, and braced himself against the rigid surface of the stone wall. He glanced back toward the gunshots, and raced over to us.

  “What’s happening up there?” Andrès asked, pointing at the ceiling of the cellar.

  “We’re under attack from the men who hit the chop shop,” Juan answered, trying to catch his breath. His face contorted in pain as he favored his wounded arm. The 9mm dangled at his side as he looked my way.

  Andrès’s fingers balled into a fist as he muttered under his breath. He pointed at Juan, and the guard standing next to him, then over to Anna and me. “You two stay down here and watch them. I’m going up top to handle this myself. If they move or try to get away, shoot them.”

  Juan nodded.

  Andrès bolted for the archway with Brute by his side. They vanished up the spiral staircase, leaving us alone with Juan and his backup.

  “Listen, you need to untie us right now before it’s too late.” I leaned forward in the chair while pulling at the rope. “Those men will kill everyone here. They’re dangerous, and you do not want to mess with them.”

  “Shut up.” Juan trained the 9mm at my head. “I think you’ve forgotten how dangerous we can be. Those fools up top will be dead soon, and the two of you will follow.”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” I shot back. “They will kill each and every one of us. I promise you that. Do you want to die?”

  Juan pistol whipped me across the side of my face. The blow rattled me, and made pain radiate through my jaw.

  Anna screamed, then let out a slew of colorful words aimed at Juan and the size of his manhood, or lack thereof.

  Juan grimaced in pain and bent over, grabbing his wounded arm. He whistled at the muscle watching the door, then tilted his head at Anna. “Is that so? We’ll see if you still speak that tough here in a moment.”

  The sentry walked past Juan and approached Anna. He reached behind the chair, and untied the rope from her wrists. He grabbed her by the arm, then wrenched her from the chair.

  I shook my head, spit the blood in my mouth to the floor, then stared at Juan.

  He placed the barrel of his 9mm against her temple. “Perhaps I should just dispense of you two now, and tell the boss you got free and tried to kill us. I don’t think he’d mind.”

  I pulled even harder at the rope. The knot loosened, little by little.

  The raw skin around my wrists burned hot. A stabbing pain flared from my chest from tugging on the rope. “She’s not a part of this. You don’t need to hurt her. Just let her go, and you can do whatever you want with me. Please.”

  The rattling of gunfire grew louder. Juan turned toward the staircase, and trained his 9mm at the entrance.

  Anna stomped on the guard’s foot, then rammed the back of her head into his chin. She spun on her heels, and jabbed him in the throat.

  The guard dropped his Glock, and reached for his throat as he gasped for air.

  “What the–” Juan jerked his 9mm back to her.

  Anna knocked his arm to the ground as he squeezed the trigger.

  The 9mm barked.

  The bullet ricocheted off the concrete.

  She punched Juan square in the face, then swept his legs out from underneath him. Juan hit the unforgiving floor with a dense thud. A gut-wrenching gasp fled his gaping mouth.

  The guard reached for the Glock on the ground, but Anna beat him to the punch. She scooped up the piece and fired twice, dead center into his broad chest. The muzzle flash illuminated his wide eyes as he collapsed to the ground.

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe what I had witnessed. “What the hell was that? Who are you?”

  “It’s a long story.” Anna trained the Glock at Juan’s head. She shoved her shoe into his chest, and pressed her weight down on him.

  A naked fear lingered in Juan’s eyes as he struggled to breathe. “Please, don’t kill me.”

  “Wait.” I pulled my arms free from the ropes. I rubbed my wrists, and sat up from the chair. “Don’t kill him.”

  “Why the hell not? He didn’t seem to have any issues with killing you or me,” she shot back. “I’d be doing you a favor by putting a hole in his head.”

  Juan looked up at me, searching for leniency. He grabbed his wounded arm.

  I knelt beside him and retrieved the 9mm. “I need to know where the plane is, so I can get out of this God-forsaken city. He can tell me that.”

  “I’m not telling you anything.” Juan scrunched his nose and squinted, then looked at Anna. “You and this bitch are going to pay for this.”

  Anna shoved her foot harder into his chest, causing him to gasp. “I’d watch who you’re calling a bitch since I’m the one with the gun.”

  I snapped my fingers in front of Juan’s face. “Listen up. We don’t have time for this. Tell me what airport the plane is at, or she’s going to place a round into that thick skull of yours. Your call.”

  Juan hesitated for a moment, trying to call my bluff.

  Anna popped off another round next to his head.

  Juan yelped, then leaned away.

  “Last chance,” I said. “Tell us where the plane is.

  “All right, shit.” Juan trembled. “The plane’s currently at Bob Hope Airport. Hangar forty-three, I think. It’s the furthest one from the main airport.”

  I slapped the side of Juan’s face, then stood up. “Good man.”


  “You’re not going to kill me, are you?” Juan asked, staring at us with a fearful gaze.

  I kicked him in the face, knocking him out.

  Anna removed her foot from his chest, and wrenched her chin at the archway. “We need to get moving while we can.”

  I grabbed her by the arm. “You haven’t answered me. Who are you really?”

  Anna glanced down to my hand, flitted her gaze back up to me, then jerked her arm away from my hand. “I’m a hit woman on assignment, but it’s a bit more complicated than that. I’ll explain everything soon, but for now, we need to go while the getting is good.”

  She bolted for the staircase.

  I was lost and confused, unsure of what to do. At that moment, she had saved my life, and seemed the lesser of two evils. I followed her just the same.

  We flew up the spiral stairs to the first floor. Gunshots battered the halls of the home. Bullets zipped past the opened doorway like wasps.

  “I left the keys in the Suburban in the driveway. Hopefully, they’re still in the ignition,” I shouted over the hammering gunfire.

  Anna popped off a few rounds down the hallway. She flipped the loose strands of hair out of her face. “All right. Let’s move while we can.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  SCARFACE

  The house swarmed with armed men. Their AKs fired nonstop, creating a shooting gallery that had me pinned down in the kitchen.

  The Glock clicked empty.

  Shit.

  I tossed the piece to the floor, then removed the assault rifle from my shoulder. Bullets zipped over the countertop, and hammered the outside wall of the cabinets I was taking cover behind.

  Static crackled in my ear.

  A strained voice shouted over the cacophony of heavy gunfire. It was Brawny. “I’m down two men. No sign of Lawson yet. They have me boxed in and I’m–”

  The line went dead.

  “Hello? Say your last, over?”

  Static hissed in my ear.

  Crap.

  Brawny’s team was gone, leaving just Jackal and me to finish the job. I hoped that they managed to make a dent in the number of guards before dying.

  I cycled a round in the assault rifle, and took a deep breath. I turned toward the cabinetry, and shouldered the weapon.

  Jackal spoke into my ear, but it was choppy and hard to understand. “Mark–heading–”

  I pressed my palm against my ear. “What? Say again, over?”

  Jackal didn’t respond.

  I feared the worst, but pushed on.

  The gunfire ebbed.

  I peered over the top of the counter.

  Two hostiles reloaded their AKs with fresh magazines from the safety of the massive columns they hid behind.

  The marble floor around their feet was carpeted in busted stone from the gunfire that chipped away at the rounded surface.

  They looked at me, then back down to their weapons as they reloaded.

  I picked my shots and opened fire. I clipped one of the men in the kneecap. He stumbled forward, away from the column. I fired another round, hitting him in the side of the head. A fine-red mist trailed the bullet as it punched through the other side of his skull.

  Incoming ordinance pelted the top of the counter near my waist. I dropped to the floor, then made for the corner of the cabinetry. I peered around the edge, and took aim at the inbound gunman.

  He noticed me at the last second, and brought his AK to bear.

  I popped off two more rounds in his chest, and one through the middle of his skull. His head snapped back as he crumbled to the floor.

  I swept the area for more targets. I spotted no immediate threats and stood up.

  The barrel of a gun pressed to the back of my bald head.

  I froze, then lowered my rifle.

  The clicking of the hammer filled my ears.

  Whoever got the drop on me had me dead to rights.

  “You picked the wrong man to mess with,” the angered voice said. “Nobody comes into my place and–”

  A single gunshot fired off.

  I flinched but felt no pain.

  A dull thud hit the counter, then the floor.

  I turned around with my arms raised in the air.

  Lawson stood on the far side of the kitchen with his piece trained at my head. He inched forward, and retrieved a black rucksack from the island countertop. He slung the pack over his shoulders, then peered to the hallway that led out of the kitchen.

  The man at my feet palmed his shoulder. He gritted his teeth, then rolled to his side.

  “I didn’t kill Duncan for what it’s worth,” Lawson said, holding me at gunpoint. “What happened on that boat was an accident. You don’t have to do this.” He drifted back out of the kitchen.

  I took a step forward, and lowered my arms. “I hate to break it to you, but there was a contract out on your head before that freak tsunami hit. You should’ve died on that boat.”

  “Keep those arms up and where I can see them.” Lawson tilted the barrel of his pistol upward. “What do you mean contract out on me?”

  “Duncan was supposed to kill you after you got those papers signed,” I answered.

  “But why kill me? For what reason?”

  I moved down the side of the island, creeping closer to my mark. “You should know better, Mr. Lawson. You don’t retire from this work and get a happily ever after. That’s not how things work. I could help you through the transition. Quick. Painless. It would be done with in a snap.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’m going to have to pass.”

  A horn blared from outside of the house.

  Lawson glanced over his shoulder, taking his eyes off me. I made my move, rushing toward him while he was distracted. He looked back to me, then fired.

  I flinched, ducked, and stopped in place. The round buzzed past me, missing my shoulder by inches.

  The front door of the house burst in, allowing another half dozen or so armed combatants to funnel inside. They opened fire, spraying everything in sight.

  Lawson tucked tail, and returned fire while fleeing to the east side of the house. He vanished around the stone column and out of my sight.

  Damn it.

  I gave chase, but was held back by the onslaught of heavy gunfire that pounded the kitchen.

  The wave of gunmen fanned out and closed in on me. I retreated down the hallway, returning fire as I checked my six.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, and yanked me backward.

  My hand slipped inside my coat, and pulled the dagger from its sheath. I shoved the razor-sharp edge to the man’s throat.

  Jackal threw up his hands. “Whoa, it’s me.”

  I removed the knife, and took a step back. “I could’ve killed you.”

  Jackal shoved me to the side and fired his Glock, taking down one of the gunmen creeping up the hallway. “Did you get eyes on Lawson.”

  I backed up to the corner of the wall and opened fire. “Yeah. He’s in the wind.”

  “That’s just freaking great.” The news did little to soften the blow of an already shitty situation. “What the hell are we going to do now? Those mercs are dead, and we’re shit up a creek without a paddle.”

  I took down two more targets. “We’re going to kill every last one of these bastards, then we’re going to get back on Lawson’s trail.”

  “How are we going to do that? We have no idea what airport he’s heading to. There’s at least a half dozen or so within the area.” Jackal fired at the men at the opposite end of the hallway.

  The assault rifle clicked empty. I tossed it to the floor.

  A large, tatted man materialized around the corner with his AK shouldered. I slashed at his stomach, slicing through his buttoned-up flannel to his rounded belly. I knocked the barrel of the AK toward the ground, then jabbed the dagger into his throat.

  The tatted man stumbled back into the wall, then dropped to his backside.

  “Don’t worry,” I replied panting. “We�
�ll just ask the man of the house.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CORY

  The City of Angels was in my rearview mirror, and with it, the horrors I’d faced.

  The drive to the airport had its tensed filled moments with shoot outs and other bedlam hitting portions of the city and congested traffic from people driving with reckless abandonment. The vehicles cut across multiple lanes, almost hitting us.

  My hands remained white knuckled on the steering wheel. Deep breaths fled my mouth. The beating of my heart hammered my chest–head drowned in anxiety and confusion from the mess I was knee deep in.

  Anna pointed out the airport with her finger as we took the off-ramp and closed in. She checked the side-view mirror, watching it with a vigilant gaze. Her hand rubbed up and down her face. She breathed a sigh of relief. “I know I owe you an explanation of everything and will in due time after we’re out of harm’s way.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I need some answers for sure.”

  “And I will give them to you and anything else that you need to know,” Anna replied.

  We made it to the tarmac by the skin of our teeth and located Hangar forty-three. I’d had my doubts that Juan shot us straight, but he’d pulled through. Nestled inside the sprawling-white metal building was Andrès’s sparkling white private jet, and its pilot.

  A bag of cash and a convincing threat from Anna was all the tan, middle-aged man needed to get the plane ready for takeoff.

  I hung outside, keeping watch for Scarface, or any number of other threats that could rain down upon me.

  The airport was void of any hint that it was operational. No flights were coming in or leaving out. The tower was dark as were the terminals.

  The gray, cloudy sky overhead grew darker–more menacing with every second that ticked by. Thunder rolled in the distance. Lightning exploded behind the puffy clouds. A storm was coming.

  The pilot pulled the plane from the hangar, and got it into position. Anna watched with her Glock tucked under her arm.

  I couldn’t help but think of everything that had happened–of how I messed up, and caused so much trouble for my family. The weight of it all was almost too much to bear.