by Rafael Hines
“We couldn’t have done any of this without you General.”
“John, we’ve just been your backup. I’m just glad you let us be a part of it. The public will never hear about it and it’ll never be mentioned in the history books, but we all know what you and your uncle did here and we’re all real proud to have fought in your private war. Now it’s over. Me and the men are going to finish what you started and clean this place out, but your war’s over. You hear me? Bishop’s War is over.”
“Yes sir,” John said. He quickly glanced over at Bunny and he could tell the big man shared his thoughts. Macho didn’t fight that hard to stay alive just to say goodbye. He knew his uncle. It was the message and the message was important. He wasn’t sure who the Tringas were, but he was definitely going to find out before he declared an end to hostilities.
Everyone turned towards the sound of heavy fire coming from the far side of the crater. They were all combat veterans and instantly recognized the signature echo of AR-15’s.
“That’s the Marines. I had them climb up the back side of the mountain to hit any squirters with some blunt force trauma,” Palmer said. “We’ve got these rats trapped in their own nest. Aziz and his army are finished. This is a big win for Special Ops and the U.S. of A.”
Twenty feet above their heads Tariq Hassan lay nestled in a natural crevice that had been undisturbed by the aerial attack. He scratched at the thick burn mark on his face that he carried since childhood while he watched and listened intently to the conversation below. He listened and swore a silent oath of vengeance.
Tariq was a senior officer, but to him Aziz Khan had been much more than just his commander-in-chief. Aziz had been a mentor and a father figure. Tariq revered him and was a true disciple of the man that lay dead at the feet of these Americans. Every true soldier of God expected to die on the battlefield someday. But to lose someone like Aziz to this ex-soldier and his family was unforgivable.
You are wrong general.
We are not finished.
I will rebuild the army.
I will give you a war like you have never seen.
The name of Aziz Khan will live forever.
And someday, someday soon, I will watch John Bishop die at my feet. I promise you, as Allah is my witness, he will die at my feet.
Islamabad, Pakistan
Amongst the many thousands of refugees and homeless living on the busy streets of Pakistan’s capital city no one noticed or paid attention to two more beggars sleeping in a dark alley. The few locals who did notice them didn’t seem to mind. Though the two men were filthy and dressed in rags they were quiet and kept to themselves. Both were crippled. One walked with a severe limp and the other was bent in half from a broken back or defect of birth.
Since moving in two days ago they kept themselves busy. Constantly moving about, they cleaned up the alley removing trash, stacking, organizing and even sweeping up where they could. They worked until it was too dark to see. Tonight, with only a crescent of light along the horizon they were still at it, struggling to move an old stove across the street. The stove was either too heavy or stuck in a hole. They rocked it back and forth trying to get it moving again, but it wouldn’t budge.
The headlights of a long black Mercedes sedan illuminated their efforts. The car pulled up just a few feet behind them. With no room to go around the driver flashed his high beams and honked his horn loudly in frustration. The two cripples pushed and pulled with everything they had, but the stove remained in the center of the road.
“Go help them. Both of you,” said General Mohammed.
“Yes General.”
The driver and the front seat passenger left the cool interior of the Mercedes and stepped out into the hot evening air. Although they were both majors in the Pakistani Inter-Service Intelligence Agency (ISI) they wore civilian clothes whenever they were part of the general’s security detail.
“You bums step aside,” the driver said. He reached down and grabbed one side of the stove.
“You are too kind,” replied the beggar with the crooked back.
“And too dumb,” said the beggar with the limp. Both ISI majors froze when they saw the silenced automatic. Neither had time to speak before Mace shot each of them in the head.
Bear stood up straight and Mace’s limp disappeared as they walked purposefully towards the car. Going along opposite sides, they each opened a rear door and watched the general fumble with his holster, trying to draw his pistol. Bear shot him in the hand and Mace shot him in both ankles. Neither man paid any attention to the high pitched screaming.
“Do you know who I am!?”
“You’re General Gulam Mohammed aren’t you?” Bear asked.
“Yes, yes. You are Americans. This is all a terrible mistake. I am your friend and ally.”
Bear shot him in the side of the right knee. The general shouted out again in pain, but Bear gave the man credit for his quick recovery.
“Why are you doing this!?”
“The Special Forces mission in Khost last week.”
“What mission?”
“The one you warned Aziz Khan about. You got our friends killed.”
“No, no, no. Khan is my enemy and yours. Why would I warn him?”
Mace shot him in the left leg.
“We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. Why General?” Mace asked.
“These are lies! Lies!”
Mace looked over the roof of the car at Bear and shrugged. Bear nodded back.
“Okay, I guess we’re done then,” Bear said. He pulled a quart sized bottle from under his robes and began pouring its contents all over the back seat and the wounded man sitting on it.
“What are you doing?”
“In case you don’t recognize the smell, that’s jet fuel.”
Mace leaned in, looked at him and said, “A whole bunch of good men went up in flames because a you. We promised them you’d do the same.” He pulled out an identical bottle and poured more fuel onto the general.
“We’re Team Razor and we keep our promises,” Bear said, striking a match.
“No, no please!”
He might of said more, but they only heard the whoosh of flames and screaming after Bear tossed in the match. The two Green Berets turned away and walked off into the night. Neither of them looked back.
Chapter 39
New Beginnings
Long Island, NY
The plan was to have a small private ceremony. Plans changed once the word got out and everyone demanded to be there. A week after they buried Macho in a lead lined coffin next to his wife and son, John and Maria were married in front of three hundred family and friends.
The groomsmen were a tuxedoed parade of walking wounded. The three surviving members of Team Razor, Bear, Mace and Bobby bore the marks of recent battles. Felix, the best man, still limped from his stab wound. Bunny’s face was cut and swollen and John was covered in band-aids to hide the stitches. Even Maria was in a full arm cast, yet somehow managed to make plaster and lace look breathtaking.
Security was intense around the church. Captain Ryan supplied off-duty cops from his trusted inner circle, Terry Hall was there with an FBI team, heavy hitters from Special Ops and the CIA tried their best to look inconspicuous, while the entire area was blanketed by Valdez soldiers.
After saying their vows they were quickly shoved into one of the long line of waiting limos. John held his new bride’s hand while the caravan traveled back to Calixto’s Long Island estate for the reception. He didn’t need to be married long to know his wife wasn’t happy.
“This is a circus. Are we celebrities or criminals?” Maria asked, staring through the tinted back window at the police cars racing along beside them.
“I know baby, and I’m sorry. I wanted this day to be special for you.”
“For me? Not us?”
“You know what I mean. Yes, for us.”
She turned to look at him and gently ran her fingers across his face. He ting
led from the sense memory. It was the same tender touch she had been giving him since high school.
“I’m sorry honey. I don’t mean to be a brat on our wedding day. I just never imagined us getting married surrounded by armed guards.”
“I think the priest had a MAC-10 under his robe,” he said with a smile.
“You’re a funny man, Mr. Bishop.”
“From now on it’s your job to laugh at my jokes, Mrs. Bishop.”
“That’ll be tough, but I promise to try,” she said batting her eyes at him.
“Listen hon…”
She cut him off. “I know the reception will be great. I just can’t wait until the honeymoon so we can finally have some time alone.”
He immediately started sweating before he gave her the bad news.“Yeah, umm, about that.”
“What baby?”
“We may have to delay our trip for a few days,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What did you just say?”
“Just a few days honey. We may still be in danger. I’ll know more after the meeting today.”
“When will it end? Oh God, when will it end?” she buried her face in his chest and cried the rest of the way to the house. She pulled herself together when they passed through the main gates.
“Okay, I feel better now,” she said wiping her eyes with his handkerchief. “Don’t know why I’m all emotional.”
“Honey, we’ve all been through two weeks of hell. You don’t have to justify anything to me.” He hugged her and gave her a long lingering kiss.
“You just do what you have to do to keep us safe. You hear me? Don’t worry about the honeymoon. You just keep us safe.”
“I love you, wife.”
“I love you, husband,” she said, just as the limo stopped in front of the main house.
The party kicked off after Maria’s bridesmaids touched up her hair and redid her makeup. It was an amazing reception with great music, gourmet food and plenty to drink. They laughed and danced together for hours, sharing the moment they had both been dreaming of for so many years. Felix made an incredible speech that had everyone in tears and there were dozens of toasts after that. When things began to slow down a little John saw his uncle Fiero nod his head towards the house. He excused himself and followed Fiero to the meeting room where everyone was waiting.
Kevin, Ed and Danny, the Pro KEDSS team, stood at the front of the long table. Gonzalo beckoned him over and John took a seat at his side.
“John, congratulations again. And we’re very sorry to have to have this meeting on your wedding day,” Danny said.
“Thanks Danny, but I’m real eager to hear what you’ve got to say.”
“Yeah, well I wish we had some good news. Ed?”
Ed stepped forward. “It took us the better part of a week to find out about the Tringas. Bottom line is they’re a highly secretive family of assassins. They hand pick one child at a time and train them to be the best at what they do. And when I say the best I mean it. These kids are trained to ignore pain, they are masters of disguise, experts in all weapons and can kill with their bare hands.”
“So the woman named Omar was one of these Tringas?” Felix asked.
“Yes, she was.”
“I have to agree with you about their skills,” John said. “I’ve never seen anyone that could fight like her. If it wasn’t for Felix and Bunny she would’ve killed me for sure.”
“You’re right, she would have,” Kevin said. “And since we don’t know if she’s dead let’s assume she’s not.”
“I shot that bitch with a .45. Clean shot right in the chest,” Bunny said.
“But she took the hit and kept on going didn’t she Bun?”
“Yeah she did. She ate the slug and took off running. Never seen anything like it.”
“Look, we’re not saying these Tringas can’t be killed. But until we see a body, let’s assume she’ll come at you again once her tit grows back. Either way this ain’t over.”
“And why is that?” John asked.
“Our research uncovered one very important thing about the Tringas. They’ve been in the game doing murder for hire for a long time. More than a thousand years.”
“Fuck,” Felix said, shaking his head.
“Fuck is right. In all that time they’ve never failed. That’s a heavy rep. Even if Omar is dead another one will come to take her place,” Danny said.
Gonzalo stood up and spoke for the first time. “We will not sit and wait for assassins. You must find them. You find them and we will destroy them. Macho said they come from Pakistan.”
“They do. We just don’t know where,” Kevin said.
“Find out. Quickly.”
“Yes Don Valdez.”
“Is there more?”
“Yes sir, quite a bit more. First, Meecham’s hired killer is still out there. He knows you’re hunting him, but he’s not going to run. Just as you’re going after the Tringas, Connie will go on the offensive.”
“Yes, Christmas told us the same thing. We have taken every precaution, but in the end we will just have to see what he does. Unless we find him first. What else?”
“The Russians from Brighton Beach. They view your move away from narcotics as a sign of weakness. Expect them to try to push you out of everything else. And soon.”
“Yes, we expected this. Not this fast, but we knew they would come,” Gonzalo said, nodding to his nephew and heir apparent, Antonio.
“Don Valdez, we know and respect you. We’ve seen a lot of men wear the crown, but none like you. You’re the best. Hands down. That said, you’re opening yourself up to attack from all sides. The Tringas, Connie Bellusci, the Russians and maybe even the Chinese. Like I said, we know you. We know you’ve got a plan. We just can’t help unless we know what it is,” Kevin said.
“Antonio and I will speak to you in private after this meeting. I want everyone, especially the groom, to enjoy his wedding night.”
“Understood. Well then the last thing we have to discuss is your brother.”
“You speak of Nestor?”
“Yes sir. Nestor is getting out of prison next week. He’s been inside for thirty years and he built his own army.”
“And?”
“You may be out of the drug game, but he’s deep in it and getting deeper every day.”
Gonzalo sighed. “I will speak to my brother. No matter how many years he’s been away he is family and he will understand.”
John got up and stood next to uncle. “Tio, I’m going back to the party. Maria and I will stay here until… until we come up with something better.” He nodded to everyone then turned and walked heavily out the room. Bunny and Felix followed him out.
“You okay, primo?” Felix asked.
“How do I tell my pregnant wife that I’m marked for death by an ancient order of Pakistani killers with a perfect track record?”
“You don’t,” Bunny said. “Let her have tonight. Tell her tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime you can sleep easy. Me and Felix will be right outside your door.”
“Right outside the door?”
“Yep.”
“Outside the door on my wedding night,” John said, finally cracking a smile.
Maria was dancing with her father when they went back outside to the reception. He passed his daughter over to John and she held him tight.
“Is everything okay, baby?”
“Everything’s, great honey. Everything’s great.”
She reached for a glass of seltzer and handed him a flute of champagne.
“Then here’s to new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” he said, clinking glasses before they each took a sip.
“I’ve got an idea. Let’s walk up the hill so you can introduce your new bride to your mom and dad. After that you can take me to bed and rip this gown off me.”
“That’s my girl.”
Maria kicked off her heels and John put away his fears about the future as
they walked hand in hand up the hill to the family cemetery. Felix and Bunny trailed them silently from behind, keeping enough distance to give the newlyweds their privacy, but close enough to act in case an assassin was waiting in the night.
Chapter 40
Caleb and Connie
Trapp, Maryland
Caleb Meecham sat at his father’s desk and looked around the study. It was the first time he ever sat in the big captain’s chair that had once been in the stateroom of his great, great, great grandfather’s three masted frigate. His father had told him that he was never to sit in it as long as he was alive. Caleb never had.
After the police had given him the unpleasant details of his father’s demise the lawyers had given him the very pleasant details of his inheritance. He was unemotional when he saw the pictures and was told how his father had been severely beaten before he was eaten alive. He was equally unemotional when he saw the will and was told that he was now worth over two billion dollars. The only thing that lit his fire was when the New York detective said that there were no suspects at this time.
No suspects my ass! I know who did this and they’re going to pay! If it costs me the entire fortune they’re going to pay! You hear me, Dad? I’ll get them all for what they did to you. There won’t be a Valdez left when I’m done. I swear it.
Caleb’s thoughts of his personal vendetta were cut short when Connie Bellusci opened the door and walked in unannounced.
“I take it you’re Caleb.”
“That’s right.”
“I worked for your dad. My name’s Connie.”
“I know who you are.”
“You know who your father hired me to kill?”
“I do, and I know that if you’d done your fucking job my father would still be alive.”
“I’ll give you that. I missed, and your father’s dead. I can’t change any of that. All I can do is keep moving forward.”
“Moving forward. What exactly does that mean?”