Autumn Assassins: [#3] A Special Operations Group Thriller

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Autumn Assassins: [#3] A Special Operations Group Thriller Page 23

by Stephen Templin


  Whiz! Puff. The whizzing sound of a bullet passed him, followed by the sound-suppressed puff of the shot, like a lightning flash before the thunder. Max estimated the distance between the whiz and puff and the direction from where the puff originated. He took a knee and aimed around the opposite side of the tree from where he first poked his head out. Off to the side, twenty-five meters away, was a pistol aimed in his direction, a dark shoulder, and Zhao’s face. It would be a formidable shot for Max to make. He fired. Miss. Zhao moved. So did Max. They shot at each other.

  Tree bark pieces sailed through the air. Max and Zhao continued shooting while using trees for temporary shields as they moved from tree to tree trying to outthink and outflank each other. Because Zhao was only armed with a pistol and Max had an assault rifle, Max estimated he had twice as many rounds as Zhao, so Max fired at him liberally. The violent sound of Max’s weapon overpowered the noise of Zhao’s, but Zhao continued to maneuver without any sign of being intimidated.

  Max faked a move left before sidestepping right. The earth had bumps and pits, and Max begged his feet not to fail him. He thought he’d calculated Zhao’s next move, but Zhao quickly shifted in another direction. It was like trying to kill a specter.

  As Max and Zhao dodged around trees, they finally caught each other out in the open. Zhao flinched as if one of Max’s bullets struck a shoulder. The ammo in Max’s rifle ran out, but before he could reload, the zing of a ricochet streaked in front of him, and it struck his trigger hand. The pain was so intense that Max lost his grip, and his weapon fell to his side.

  Zhao’s slide locked to the rear—he’d fired the last cartridge in his magazine. He needed to reload, too.

  Zhao smiled. “We’ve met before.”

  Max’s thoughts flashed in fractions of a second. I can reload with my support hand and then shoot with it, but the movement will be awkward and time consuming. It’ll be quicker to reach around to my pistol, draw, and shoot. But I’ll have to avoid incoming bullets while doing so. In the meantime, Zhao will kill me. If I can give this situation more time to play out, I might discover a better way. Need to buy more time. “Yes, we have.”

  “For years, I’ve dreamed of facing the great gunfighter with no face. I saw you in the Chinese restaurant. And now I see your face again.” Zhao’s grin broadened.

  “How does that make you feel?” Max asked.

  “The pleasure is indescribable. This is the epic duel I foresaw.”

  Over fifty meters behind Zhao there was movement. Max kept his eyes on Zhao’s, but in his peripheral vision, he watched for the source of the movement. June. For Max, with a subcompact pistol like he and June carried, fifty meters was close enough to land a shot on Zhao’s upper body. But he wasn’t sure what the odds were that June could make such a shot—especially under pressure. Or how much she believed she could make the shot.

  She stalked within fifty meters, increasing the odds in her favor. Max covered the sound of her movement with his voice. “Your nation doesn’t support you, Zhao.”

  “It will. It will.”

  Max saw that his opponent was wounded. “Your shoulder is bleeding.”

  Zhao disregarded the wound. “It’s not fatal. But your shooting hand, the one you need to pull the trigger with, is bleeding. Not being able to shoot me will be fatal.”

  Now June was twenty-five meters behind Zhao—close enough for a head shot, and surely close enough for her to at least hit Zhao’s upper body. “Take the shot,” Max said, keeping the main focus of his gaze on Zhao but the focus of his words on June. “Why wait?”

  “I want to savor this moment,” Zhao said smugly, as if he thought Max was talking to him.

  Zhao’s disregard for human life disgusted Max, and it came out in his voice. “There’s nothing savory about killing innocent people.”

  “Innocence is overrated. Even so, you’re not innocent.”

  “You’re an arrogant bastard,” Max said.

  “Just confident in what I can do. I descend from a long line of warriors and the country at the center of the earth. Arrogance is the man who thinks he can win, yet loses.”

  “Sounds like a lot of pressure to live up to—maybe you’re afraid you can’t. Confidence gives, but arrogance takes.”

  Zhao’s smile twisted into a sneer, and anger filled his voice. “I’m in a very giving mood.”

  Max was running out of things to say, and now June was only ten meters away. Frustration built inside him. She’s got to be able to hit him from that close. His eyes locked on hers, so now there was no ambiguity as to who he was speaking to. “Pull the trigger, now.”

  The sneer on Zhao’s face dimmed. He seemed to sense that something was wrong. His pistol hand ejected the empty magazine while his support hand reached to his belt for a fresh one.

  Max reached around behind his back, grasped the handle of the pistol on his right hip, and drew.

  A gunshot sounded behind Zhao—and then another.

  Zhao’s left arm shuddered, but his hand managed to reload a fresh magazine into his pistol, and he locked a round in the chamber. His body tilted, and he dry vomited. Then he fell face-first into the dirt. His head bounced once before it came to a rest, facing Max.

  Max brought his weapon from behind him.

  “I can’t …” Zhao took a shallow breath. “Can’t see.”

  Max aimed at Zhao’s head.

  “Who was he?” Zhao asked. “How can I see his face if I can’t see?”

  “He was a she,” Max said.

  “You robbed me,” Zhao said angrily.

  “You don’t even have the anthrax anymore. You robbed yourself.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Zhao said.

  “Your buddy Wei is dead. And he failed to kill the vice chairman and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

  A tear formed in Zhao’s eye. “This wasn’t my destiny. I was supposed to be a hero. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I had a destiny.”

  “C’est la vie, ass hat,” Max said.

  Before Max could kick Zhao’s pistol out of his hand, Zhao twisted and aimed toward Max. Whether Zhao could see or not, Max couldn’t take any chances, and he squeezed the trigger. Pop. And Zhao was no more. Max fired again to make sure Zhao stayed dead.

  June stood with her eyes fixed on the body and her weapon down at her side, as if in a trance. Maybe she was feeling bad about shooting Zhao.

  Max held his weapon down at his side. “Shooting another human being isn’t a normal thing. And it shouldn’t be. But if you hadn’t shot Zhao, he would’ve killed me and a lot more people. Thank you for saving my life.”

  She seemed to think about it for a moment. “Thank you.”

  All the chasing around had made Max sweat, and now his upper body chilled. Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound behind him coming from Zhao’s direction on the ground. He raised his weapon and whipped around to aim at the source of the noise. Leaves were blowing—it was only a breeze.

  Zhao’s dead body and this part of the forest were giving Max the creeps. Max carefully holstered his weapon. Then he marked the location on the GPS on his cell phone so he could notify Pepper. “Let’s get a drink. Life is short and pleasure is shorter.”

  39

  The next morning, in a Bureau safe house, Max and Tom sat comfortably on a stuffed sofa in the living room. “You were great with a vengeance, Tommy,” Max said.

  “I’m not seven years old anymore, but I’ll take the compliment.”

  “As a team, you and I are the Jedi masters.”

  Tom’s jaw became slack. “Max, uh … I’ve got to get back to Georgetown. I have assignments to make up and whatever else I missed since I’ve been gone. Besides, Charlotte is waiting for me.”

  Max was embarrassed at being rejected by his younger brother. And a little irritated. “Yeah.” He changed the subject. “Dad called and said he’s fine. Should be out of the hospital sooner than expected.”

  “That’s awe
some,” Tom said.

  Max’s tone softened. “You know, I’m going to miss seeing your ugly mug every day.”

  Tom smiled. “I’ll miss seeing yours, too.”

  June joined them, pulling a suitcase behind her.

  “You sure you don’t want us to drive you to the airport?” Tom asked. “It’s no trouble.”

  June sat by herself on the love seat. “I’ll be fine, thanks,” she said politely.

  Outside, a yellow taxi pulled up next to the curb and stopped in front of the house. A cascade of colored leaves floated in the air.

  June glanced at her packed bags near the door before she stood. “It’s time.”

  Tom rose, too.

  June shook Tom’s hand. “Thank you, Tom. For encouraging me in Hawaii to see this mission through. And for everything.”

  Tom hugged her like a sister. “Thank you. Hope you have a safe trip back to your station in Hanoi.”

  June walked over to Max and held out her hand to him. There was an awkward pause.

  The taxi driver honked the horn.

  Max stood and shook her hand.

  She took a deep breath as if she was about to say a lot, but nothing came out.

  Max gave her a kiss on the lips. It was longer than just the apologetic or goodbye kiss he expected to give her. It was more of a romantic kiss. He didn’t realize how much June had grown on him.

  Her cheeks turned a rosy hue. She stared down at her feet for a moment, and when she brought up her head again, her cheeks were still red. “Goodbye, Max,” she said serenely. She walked to her bags.

  “I can carry those,” Max offered.

  “I can, too.” She grasped the handles of her suitcases.

  “Will I see you again?” Max asked.

  June turned and said to him with a playful smile, “If you’re lucky.”

  In a rare moment for Max, he didn’t have a comeback.

  Then she said the same words she said when she first met him. “Thank you.”

  The taxi driver honked again.

  June turned to the door, and Max opened it for her. The air from outside was cool, and she breezed through the doorway like the autumn wind.

  Max & Tom will return

  To connect with Stephen Templin and for updates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions, visit his website and sign up for his mailing list at:

  http://www.stephentemplin.com

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  John Koenig taught me marksmanship, demolitions, and small-unit tactics during the land warfare phase of Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training. Commander Koenig served in many classified operations, including as a SEAL in Vietnam, MILGRU advisor in El Salvador, and SEAL Team Six operator in Grenada and Panama. In Grenada, his team rescued Governor General Paul Scoon’s family from house arrest. Commander Koenig’s leadership and instruction were straightforward, his dark sense of humor brought high points during many long hours of training, and his experiences were invaluable. I will always be grateful.

  While I lived in Japan, aikido seventh-and fourth-degree black belt masters Kabayama Sensei and Yamaguchi Sensei trained me in redirecting the momentum of an opponent’s attack. Although commonly used for nonlethal purposes, such close-quarters combat can also be used to follow up with lethal force.

  More recently, Larry Vickers instructed me in handgun and assault rifle shooting. Larry served as a Special Forces and Delta Force operator in many classified operations, including in Panama, Iraq, Somalia, and Bosnia. Most notable among these operations was the rescue of CIA agent Kurt Muse from imprisonment by forces under the command of dictator Manuel Noriega.

  Finally, I’d like to thank SEAL sniper veteran Kyle Defoor for training me in pistol and assault rifle to further my knowledge. In Afghanistan, Kyle was part of Operation Anaconda, where he fought in the Battle of Takur Ghar and was awarded a Bronze Star for valor. The operation succeeded in killing hundreds of al-Qaeda and Taliban terrorists, taking away their control of the Shah-i-Kot Valley.

  STEPHEN TEMPLIN is a New York Times and international best-selling author, with the movie rights to one of his books purchased by Vin Diesel. His books have been translated into thirteen languages. He publishes with three of the Big Five publishers: Simon & Schuster, St. Martin’s Press, and Hachette UK.

  He completed Hell Week, qualified as a pistol and rifle expert, blew up things, and practiced small unit tactics during Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training. Then for fourteen years he lectured as a tenured professor at Meio University in Japan, where he also trained in the martial art aikido. His PhD is in education, and he lives in the Dallas-Fort Worth area.

  To connect with Steve and for updates about new releases, visit his website at http://www.stephentemplin.com.

 

 

 


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