“And cover fire will only keep maybe half the alley from shooting.”
“It’s over, Xander.” José’s voice echoed down the alley. “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. My boss would prefer to have you alive, but ultimately he’ll take what he can get.”
King was happy to talk. Maybe it would stall things enough to give him time to come up with an exit strategy.
“That right?” King shouted back. “And just who exactly is this he you’re taking orders from?”
“Raúl Ortega. But you already know that.”
“Do I?” King said. Then he whispered to Lawson, “Any ideas?” Then back to José. “What’s the motive, José? He doesn’t even know me. Why would he care about framing me to look like a traitor?”
“Not my concern, X. Now come on out, or I’m sending my men down.”
“Okay, José. You’ve seen me in combat. Send them down. You know they won’t make it back.”
Lawson leaned over and whispered, “I think we go for the door.” He nodded in the direction of the door fifteen yards to their left.
“Not this time, King,” José said. “No way out.”
“I bet you thought that about the car bomb, too, right?”
“Maybe, but this is far worse. You’re trapped. Let’s save some bullets and come on out. I’m not going to ask you again.”
King looked at Lawson. “What if the door is locked?”
Lawson glanced down at his shoulder, which was massive even in a button-down shirt. “Let me worry about the door. You give me as much cover as you can.”
King believed Lawson that he absolutely could take down that door, even if it was locked. Lawson handed King his Sig Sauer and readied himself for a run.
King readied both guns before talking to José. “All right. I’ve run all the scenarios, and you’re right. There’s no way out for us. I am going to ask you one last time not to do this, José. From one frogman to another. No amount of money can change that we’re brothers.”
“Money changes everything, X. Especially when your own government doesn’t take care of you.”
King had heard that line a hundred times over the years and even felt it himself sometimes. But as a SEAL you don’t sign up to be treated fairly; you sign up to do whatever you’re told so you can keep your country safe.
“I hear you,” King said. Then he whispered to Lawson, “I’ll shoot when you take off.” Back to José, he said, “If it’s money you want, you know I can get you plenty.”
King’s phone continued to vibrate in his pocket.
“Yeah, I know, X. And I’ll spend it all from my jail cell, right?”
Lawson shot out from behind the dumpster toward the door. King began running as he fired both pistols, one at the left side of the alley, the other at the right. The men at the far end ducked for cover out of surprise. This gave Lawson enough time to reach the door. He lowered his shoulder like a rhino approaching its prey, and the door exploded inward. Return fire began from the mouth of the alley, and King fired off the last of his rounds as he dove for the open doorway.
As soon as King’s stomach hit the ground, he felt a pull at the back of his pants. Lawson had lifted him back up to his feet, and the two of them were running through the hallway of a rental complex. A woman up ahead on the left let out a scream, and Lawson nearly put a man on their right through a wall as he made a hole for King. As if relaying a baton, King handed Lawson his pistol. They both replaced their empty magazines and ran for the other end of the hallway, but King could see up ahead that there was no door.
“Is there a back exit?” King shouted at a man, but the man didn’t respond.
“This way!” Lawson shouted as he turned left.
King followed down a short hallway that led to a door. Lawson was a bull in a china shop and continued right through the door and on out into a parking garage. A woman was pulling up in a small red sedan, and for the second time that day King was involved in a carjacking. The woman handed the keys to Lawson without a fight once he held his gun out to his side. King hopped in the passenger seat as Lawson got in and started driving forward. There were groceries in the back. King was leaving quite a wake on his trip to Mexico, something a day ago he never thought would be the case.
The tires spun as Lawson pulled away.
“Go out and make a left in the opposite direction of José and men. Hopefully we can make it out in time.”
The exit was just in front of them now. The phone continued to vibrate in King’s pocket. He couldn’t stand it any longer; he had to find out who it was. Just as he pulled the phone from his pocket, headlights filled the driver-side window as they exited the parking garage. A truck slammed into the side of their car, sending it spinning out into the main road. Glass shattered all around them, and Lawson, wearing no seat belt, was thrown on top of King.
After a couple more spins, the car finally came to a stop. King scanned the surrounding area as he pushed Lawson back over into his seat. There were billboards and lights everywhere above them, so much so it almost seemed to be daylight. A few more vehicles screeched to a stop around them.
“You okay?” King said.
Lawson reached down in the floorboard and picked up his gun as he looked out the front windshield at the two trucks in front of them. “For now.”
“José said Ortega preferred me alive.”
“You believe that?”
“No. But what choice do we have?” King nodded to his right as two more trucks came to an abrupt stop and José hopped out of one of them.
“No choice, looks like,” Lawson agreed. “So we go with them now and look for a better spot to get away?”
“It’s the last thing I would ever say we do, but right now it’s all we’ve got. We are wide open here. Hopefully they don’t separate us.”
They shared a look for a moment that confirmed neither one of them had a better idea.
“Weapons out the window and on the ground,” José shouted. There were seven more men around them holding guns. “Get out slow, nothing cute.”
King did as asked. He waited for Lawson to push open his indented door; then both of them tossed out their guns and exited slowly.
“Hands up, fellas. Keep them high.”
King did as asked. Lawson followed suit. A pit formed in King’s stomach as they both reached for the sky. What came next was not going to be fun. He just hoped both he and Lawson could survive.
Chapter Thirty
“Both of you to the front of the car,” José shouted to King and Lawson.
With their hands still held above their heads, they did as told and walked to the front of the car. King had thrown his Glock forward out the window earlier, so he was only standing a foot or two from it. However, being surrounded by José and his men, it may as well have been a mile.
“You still have time to not be a treasonous prick,” King told José. “I won’t tell what happened before if you repent now and join the winning team.”
“Doesn’t look like you’re doing a lot of winning right now, King. You should probably just keep your mouth shut.”
King looked over at Lawson and found him scanning the area for any possible way out. King had already run all the scenarios. They were trapped. There was no way around it. King’s phone continued to vibrate in his pocket. He’d give anything to be able to answer it freely. However, with the way it had been relentlessly ringing, it was bound to be bad news.
“So what now, José? You turn me over to Ortega, and he pays you handsomely? Ups your rank in the gang of degenerates and pedophiles? What’s your endgame here, brother?”
The cars coming down both lanes of traffic were making U-turns without protest. It was almost as if running into a gang holding guns was second nature to the citizens of Mexico City. There was one exception. Just a few seconds ago a van pulled to the corner from a side street, and it hadn’t moved. Things couldn’t get worse for King, so the van wasn’t a worry. It was actually more of a hope.
Especially when he saw someone get out of the passenger door wearing a cowboy hat.
“My endgame shouldn’t be the end you’re worried about,” José said. “Now turn around, both of you, and put your hands on the hood.”
King turned and slowly did as asked. He looked back up over José’s shoulder, and the cowboy hat was actually walking toward him. King then located his gun on the ground once more—just in case there was a Hail Mary about to be thrown his way.
“No sudden moves, or I will kill both of you,” José said. He still had a shotgun trained on King and Lawson, but he had yet to move from the cover of his car. He’d seen what King was capable of before, and he wasn’t taking any chances. “Hector, you have the zip ties?”
Hector answered yes.
“You and Juan get out there and tie them up,” José ordered.
Two men moved out from behind a different vehicle toward King and Lawson. King looked back up at José. The cowboy hat was right behind him now. King didn’t want to let wishful thinking put him in an even deadlier position, but he couldn’t help but think the cowboy was there to help. It was the only thing that made sense.
“Don’t let them tie you,” King whispered to Lawson.
“Hey!” José shouted. “Shut the hell up! No talking!” José fired a round into the air. The cowboy was at his back. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the gunfire. What came next all happened in the blink of an eye.
José’s shotgun dropped to the ground as he grunted in pain. King turned just in time to watch Lawson nearly snap the man’s arm in half who attempted to tie him up—at almost the same moment when King felt a man’s hand around his left wrist. King shot his right hand up for the man’s throat and bludgeoned his Adam’s apple. Over the man’s shoulder, King saw the man in the cowboy hat pick up José’s shotgun and blast the man next to José. But suddenly a man raising a gun was behind the cowboy.
King dove across the hood of the car and grabbed his Glock as he landed on the pavement. He twisted over onto his right shoulder and fired three shots at the man raising his gun, dropping him before he could shoot the cowboy. Then King moved his gun to the man he’d just punched and put one in his forehead. Simultaneously, there were gunshots on the other side of the car; Lawson must have pillaged the man with the broken arm for his gun, because he was raising it to fire on the last two men King saw standing.
Just like that, the entire situation had turned. Thanks to the cowboy—and possibly one other helper on the opposite side of the car whom King couldn’t see. The last of the gunfire blasted off, and King rose to his feet. Lawson turned to his left and pointed his gun at someone.
“Not another step!” Lawson shouted.
King looked across the car and saw a woman with fiery-red hair walking toward them. He was elated to see Zhanna’s familiar face. Then he heard an unmistakable, familiar voice behind him.
“Son, lower that gun,” the cowboy said to Lawson. “She just saved your britches.”
King looked over and was already smiling when he saw the cowboy’s face as he stepped further into the glowing streetlights.
“Jack Bronson,” King said. “How the hell did they pull you off the farm to get you down to Mexico City?”
The man tipped his cowboy hat up showing his white-stubbled jaw and sun-aged face. “Well, not for the first time, it was to save your ass.”
King walked over and wrapped his arms around Jack. Jack was a former SEAL, then CIA. He was retired the first time King met him when King was hunting his mother’s killer. He made a hell of a teammate when King was given his own clandestine group—Team Reign. Jack was one of the best snipers in the navy, and he’d helped King on more than a few hair-raising missions. It had been a couple of years since King had seen him.
King pulled back, took Jack by both shoulders, and gave him a grateful smile. “I must be the redheaded stepchild now if all I get for a savior is you, old man.”
“You’re alive, ain’t ya? And you look pretty good for a dead man,” Jack said with a smile. “Speakin’ of redheads . . .” He nodded behind King.
King turned and watched as Zhanna walked past Lawson. She was as stunning as ever.
“See,” King said to Jack with a wink. “This is more like who should be sent to save me.” He turned to Zhanna. “Zhanna, you sure are a sight for sore eyes.”
Zhanna skipped the last couple of steps and jumped into King’s arms. He couldn’t have been happier to see his old Russian friend.
“You as well, my friend,” Zhanna said. “Glad we got here in time.”
King was about to speak when Lawson interrupted.
“I hate to break up this little reunion, but we’re about to have the rest of Ortega’s gang on top of us. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Good God, son,” Jack said to Lawson. “I don’t know where you’re from, but I need to know what the hell they’re feedin’ ya.” He turned to King. “Where’d you find this one? Working as The Rock’s stunt double?”
King shrugged.
“Get to our van and let’s get out of here,” Zhanna said. “But grab some of these weapons along the way. They won’t be needing them.”
So before any more trouble could make it to them on that street, they threw the several guns they could find in the back of the van. Jack jumped in behind the steering wheel, and King took the front passenger seat beside him.
“Where to now, ghosts of missions past?” Jack said as he tipped his cowboy hat.
King didn’t answer the question. “How the hell did you two find us?”
“You haven’t spoken with Dbie?” Zhanna said.
That’s when it hit King. He pulled the phone from his pocket. It must have been Dbie. There were twenty or so missed calls from her.
“Dbie tracked this phone, didn’t she?”
“We called her when I met up with Zhanna at the airport about a half hour ago,” Jack said. “She led us right to ya. I gotta say, it was a little nerve-rackin’ rolling up here without any guns. Can you believe they just don’t let you bring your own into the country?” Jack laughed.
“Well, I appreciate the stupid but brave rescue,” King said. “Where’d you get the knife you used on José?”
“They’ll let ya buy those at the pawn shop. One back right around the corner. But enough about all that. I’m just happy we could help. Question is, where to now?”
“The strip club around the corner. Something I need back there,” King said.
“What, your dignity?” Jack smiled.
“We can’t go back there, King,” Lawson said. “It’s too risky.”
King turned in his seat to face Lawson. “Everything from here on in is risky. We’re at war. And the only way out of this city is to stay on offense and take the fight to Ortega.”
Jack turned to face Lawson as well. “Man of your size ain’t afraid of a fight now, are ya?”
Lawson returned Jack’s smile with one of his own that said to King, “If they only knew.” Then Lawson leaned forward and nodded to King. “Ask him if I’m afraid of a fight?”
Jack and Zhanna both examined King’s semibattered face. King shrugged.
Jack grinned from ear to ear. Then he turned back around and started the van. “Well, all right then. Strip club it is.”
Chapter Thirty-One
By the time Sam ditched Agent Richards’s SUV, hot-wired an adjacent car, and made her way to Montgomery County Airpark, Kyle and the plane he’d chartered were ready to go. It was a Citation I aircraft. Not a large plane, and they would have to stop once for fuel on the way to Mexico City.
Sam broke the silence in the cabin. “You couldn’t get a plane that could fly nonstop to Mexico City?”
“Typical,” Kyle said. “I bail you out, and instead of saying thanks, you go with giving me shit.”
“I’m nothing if not consistent.”
Kyle gave a grin. “I was pissed we’d have to stop too. But it was the best I could do for two fugitives on an hour’
s notice.”
The plane was taxiing to the ready position on the runway. They were next in line to take off. They were actually the only ones in line to take off. One of the many perks of a regional private airport.
“We need to talk to X before we take off,” Sam said. “You want to do the honors?”
“No, I don’t want our first conversation in two years, after he lied to me, to feel forced.”
Sam understood. Just before she dialed King, Director Lucas was calling again. Kyle noticed and snatched the phone from her hand.
“Let me buy us a little time.”
“Knock yourself out,” Sam said.
“Hello! Who is this?” Kyle said frantically. Sam watched as he fell into character, perfect facial expressions and all. “Director Lucas? Oh, thank God! It’s Sam! Please hurry. She’s hurt and was taken by Agent Richards! I managed to get away, but I don’t know where I am!”
Kyle waited for Director Lucas to say what he had to say.
“Yes, she was bleeding bad in the backseat of his car. He turned the tables on us.” He waited a beat. “I don’t know where she is. Last I saw her was in a Walmart parking lot. Please find her. He’s going to kill her!”
Kyle ended the call and went back to normal as if it were nothing.
“It wasn’t Oscar worthy,” Sam said. “But it was passable.”
Kyle rolled his hand forward and bowed for his less-than-adoring fan. Sam dialed King’s burner phone. He answered on the first ring.
“Sam. Everything okay?”
“We’re fine. Kyle and I have found a way to get to you. We should be there by midnight to give you some help.”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I already have help,” King said.
“Yes, but the private investigator and José aren’t enough. You’ll need—”
“José is dead.”
“What?” Sam took in a breath. “What happened? Did Ortega’s men find you?”
Alexander King Thriller Series: Books 1-3 Page 57