Four Mercenaries - The Complete Collection

by K. A. Merikan

  “Duck,” he said, bending lower to minimize the chance of getting shot before they even reached the gate, but both guards fell following a couple of loud bangs from above.

  Tank was a better shot than he’d thought.

  There was no time to open the barrier. He leaned back, stretched his shoulders and took deep, even breaths as the wall of metal approached at breakneck speed.

  The collision sent him forward, but he pressed the gas pedal all the way down, adding that bit more juice to the force driving the vehicle. The gate bent, but didn’t resist for long, torn off the fence like a scrap of fat from meat. It fell, and Pyro hurried into the darkness, speeding down the empty road.

  It was only then that fatigue returned, twisting in his muscles.

  Something knocked at the back window, and Clover scrambled to open it. Tank’s voice hit Pyro like a baseball bat.

  “What the fuck, Pyro? You wrecked my truck for some mayhem?”

  Pyro’s tongue stuck to his palate, numb as if it were made of wood, so it took him a few heartbeats to answer. “I found Boar.”

  Chapter 7 - Tank

  I found Boar.

  Pyro’s voice, this time not angry or full of impatience, but hopeful, rang in Tank’s head over and over. The night felt cool, yet his hands were damp around the steel railings used to secure his motorcycle to the bed of the truck.

  “What? How?” Tank shouted as the vehicle raced down a country road, which would have allowed half of their current speed in normal circumstances, but if Tank could cope with losing his home, what was a busted truck when their friend’s life was at stake?

  “I went to this death match, and they walked him in, and he’s like… a celebrity in those circles. People were chanting his name and shit.”

  “Is he okay?” Clover asked, his gaze darting to meet Tank’s.

  Pyro groaned. “He’s in one piece, but he says they’re moving him all over in a van. That’s the registration I gave you, Clo. If we find that vehicle, we’ll find Boar.”

  Clover squeezed Pyro’s shoulder, and it lowered as Pyro took a deep breath, maneuvering around some obstruction so rapidly the centrifugal force pushed Tank onto his bike. “He’s there, but there were so many of them. We ran, but they stopped him, and I couldn’t do anything. I had to leave him there so I could save him,” Pyro choked out, his hands squeezing on the steering wheel.

  Tank’s mouth dried, and he lowered himself when the truck shook yet again, prompting him to hold on more tightly. “He tried to run with you?”

  “I pretended I was running from the fight and he chased me. I think it was believable enough but… can’t fucking bear that he’s there, and I’m running away.

  When the vehicle dove into yet another pothole so fast Tank’s teeth clashed, he knocked on the back of the cab. They had enough advantage on their pursuers—if the chase was even still going—to regroup. “Stop, I’ll take the wheel. You’re right. We’re not running away. This is the only road out of there, so if we watch it, we will spot that van eventually.”

  Pyro gave a low exhale and hit the brakes until the truck came to a halt. By the time Tank was off the bed, Pyro had managed to roll out of the driver’s seat, and Tank pulled him into the briefest of hugs.

  “Hang in there, brother. We all want him back, do you understand me?”

  Pyro’s eyes were wide and dark because of the cocaine he must had used, but he caught Tank’s gaze and nodded before walking around the truck to climb in from Clover’s side. Tank got in too, and when both doors closed, the boy was sandwiched between them.

  “Keep your eyes open, we’re looking for someplace to hide nearby. We’re not losing Boar now that we found him,” Tank said and didn’t waste any time, switching the engine back on. He knew something was wrong the moment his truck moved. The vehicle was pulling to the right, and there was a constant, buzzing noise coming from the dented hood, its cover bulging despite the fat steel bumper mounted at the front. He didn’t even want to think about the damage to his baby. There were more important things to deal with now, so he could rage about the minor ones once Boar was back in the fold.

  On the upside, he was positive they weren’t being followed anymore. The stunt they pulled hardly looked like an inside job of law enforcement, so whoever organized the fight had bigger fish to fry.

  His knuckles creaked when the engine gave a choking noise, and a controller lit up on the dashboard. He didn’t even want to know which one, because whichever it was—they were in deep shit regardless. If the truck stopped out in the open, they’d lose all the hard-earned advantage.

  Clover grabbed his arm and pointed to the side of the road ahead. “There. Look!”

  Tank pressed on the brake before taking a good look at the dark hole between the pine trees creating a wall along the low banks on either side of the road. It seemed small, but there was some kind of path leading away from the asphalt road. Already overgrown with grass because of infrequent use, but just broad enough to provide them with shelter. Even the slope behind a dip in the ground was gentle enough to drive on—maybe not for a sports car, but a pickup? Most definitely.

  He exhaled and switched to low-beam lights, locking them in the tiniest ball of illumination and letting darkness creep all too close. But Tank was an adult and no longer feared imaginary boogeymen, so he drove onto the path, exhaling with relief when he saw that the corridor of ground devoid of trees led farther away, where their black vehicle couldn’t be spotted from the road.

  It was high time too, because the truck chose that moment to tremble, as if the engine was about to give up. Tank exhaled and pulled to the right, into a small gap between trees, and switched everything off. Relief overcame his flesh as soon as it became dark, but this wasn’t the time for relaxation.

  “We need to track where they’re taking Boar in case they move him soon. I’ll call Drake and tell him to get there fast.”

  Clover curled his shoulders, taking a deep breath. “Is it a good idea though? What if he gets caught again?”

  Pyro opened his door and rolled out of the cab before taking a couple of steps into the darkness. He remained still as he looked toward the asphalt road with hands resting on his hips.

  Tank exhaled. Nothing was certain at this point, but they couldn’t afford doubt to set in when they were so close. “Drake knows the risk, and he’s experienced. I’m sure he won’t make the same mistake again,” he said, squeezing Clover’s hand in the near-perfect silence of the fragrant woods.

  Clover used to be the first one to charge into things, so it ached to see him turn overly cautious, but maybe he needed more time to lick his wounds.

  “It’s just all so sudden,” Clover whispered, squeezing Tank’s hand. “You think Apollo is there too?”

  “Are you telling me you want to sit this one out?” Tank asked, wanting to know upfront what cards he’d been dealt. This wasn’t a night when they could afford hesitation.

  Clover opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Once. Twice. “What if I fail?” he asked in a tiny voice.

  Tank pushed Clover’s chin up. “You won’t, baby. This is not the time to doubt yourself. Boar is somewhere out there. Trapped, hurting. God knows what they did to him. You need to be brave. I know it must be hard after what happened, but we need to depend on you, okay? You’ve got the skills. You were the one to crawl out of Apollo’s grasp.”

  Clover swallowed, nodding slowly, even though his shoulders remained low. “I want Boar back so bad.”

  Tank pulled him close, relieved to feel Clover’s warm body in his arms and breathe in the scent of the strawberry shampoo he used. This small moment soothed every ache--both inside and out. “I know how you feel. When I was in Afghanistan, one of my close friends died in an ambush. I was terrified to go out there again. Death became more real and that switched something in my head.

  “I tried not to let it show, but it was a struggle. I got antsy, and angry, but my commanding officer was a smart guy
and caught it in time. He built me up, you know. And sure, it might only be words, but they mean a lot when they come from someone you respect. Once I got back out there and understood I was still just as capable, the fear subsided. We might be afraid, but we can’t let some bastards win. So if you don’t feel ready, tell me now, but I think you do have the skills we’ll need from you.”

  Clover took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “I won’t let you down.”

  Tank kissed him and gently stroked his fine hair. “I know you won’t. There’s a med kit in the back. Have a look at Pyro, because he’s so high he might not realize he’s hurt. Are you… okay staying alone with him? I’ll be taking the bike back there so that we don’t lose Boar.”

  Clover shook his head and gave Tank one more kiss, though he lingered close for the longest moment, not yet willing to let go of his safety net. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

  Tank exhaled and pressed their lips together for the final time before sliding out of the cab. “Pyro, you need to rest before we strike. Keep Clover safe. I’m going to watch the arena to make sure we don’t lose Boar. You lay a fucking finger on our boy, and I’m gonna make sure you’re dead before you get to see Boar again. Understood?”

  In the dark, Pyro was a pale figure that looked more like a ghost than a person of flesh and blood. He took a step toward Tank, as if he wanted to protest, but reality must have hit him hard, because he nodded instead.

  “Well, I’m gonna break your neck if you lose him.”

  Tank rolled his eyes and climbed on the bed of the truck. “Good talk.”

  He put the headset into his ear and chose Drake’s number before unstrapping his bike. After what had transpired earlier that night, he wasn’t certain Drake would pick up but hoped that repeated calls would eventually lure him out of his self-imposed exile.

  Tank was on his third call and in the middle of getting the ramp ready when Drake stopped being an ass.

  “What is it?” he asked in a bland tone.

  “We found Boar.”

  The line became so quiet Tank worried Drake might have dropped his phone, but what followed was a stifled noise, and then, his voice. “What? What do you mean?”

  By the time Tank set off on his motorbike, he had briefed Drake.

  He left the pickup behind and drove turning off his light every now and then to avoid being spotted. His sole focus was Boar. The sweet guy who always tried to mediate between them all, and who’d gotten into this mess simply because he wanted to protect Clover and avoid conflict in their group.

  Boar was a grown man, and made his own decisions, but was just twenty-six and Tank felt responsible for him in ways he didn’t for Pyro or Drake. Maybe it was because Tank had met Boar, saving his life from a bunch of hillbilly drug dealers, but he’d never gotten over the feeling that Boar was somehow under his care.

  Until Clover came along, Boar had been the ‘baby’ of the group. When a job needed a friendly face, he’d been the one to take on the role of the innocent, bumbling bear. And when tensions got too high, Boar always found a way to get everyone back together.

  Tank tended to think that their crew revolved around Clover, since everyone had a romantic connection with him, but Boar was the glue that kept them together, and without him, their group had been falling apart. Pyro had only joined Tank’s crew in the first place because Boar had insisted that they owed a debt of gratitude. But by the time they paid it off, Boar had managed to gain Drake’s trust. And that meant something, since Drake wasn’t one to make friends easily.

  The man had never had a boyfriend before Clover, and stayed guarded even around his chosen family, let alone strangers. Clover’s presence had been the revelation that had finally changed him, and seeing Drake so open with the boy always made Tank all mushy inside. So maybe, despite what had happened with Apollo, once they got Boar back, their life could begin to heal, because right now they were all open wounds on the verge of fatal infection.

  Drake believed all that had transpired was his fault, and even though everyone had made their own bed that night, there was no denying that he was the one with the biggest grudge against Apollo and that it had been his bloodlust for revenge that pushed everyone off the cliff. They wouldn’t be playing the blame game anymore, but that was the truth, and they all had to get over that hurdle.

  But because denying this was impossible, Drake would never forgive himself. Unless they got Boar. Tank was pretty sure Drake could eventually understand that despite what had happened, they could heal. If Boar died, there would be no coming back.

  If the worst happened, Pyro would never forgive any of them and would descend into overdosing one day. Clover would live with a broken heart, and Drake would put that bullet through his head.

  The memory of that gun under Drake’s chin had Tank nauseated.

  Drake had made so much progress in the years since they’d met, yet he’d regressed to a suicidal mess. Boar wasn’t some golden ticket to a future without bad choices, but his presence would be the Band-Aid everyone needed.

  Tank’s hiding spot was well-protected by a thatch of bushes and provided that necessary bit of high ground to watch the road through binoculars. He’d donned gloves and a balaclava to minimize the chances of someone spotting him in the dark, but so far the traffic had been minimal, with only a couple of vehicles driving back toward the nearest town, none of them a van. So he waited, breathing in the scent of pine and moss, wrapped in a jacket, because staying still like this made him lose way too much heat.

  It was deep into the night, and whatever those vultures had planned for after the fights, it clearly kept them busy, but time was ticking. Tank had left Drake their usual sign—a fluorescent pink bag pinned down by a stone—to indicate a convenient parking spot close to where they were meant to meet. The white van would have been too conspicuous so far away from people’s homes, so Tank was glad that he’d found a forest ranger’s path not far from here.

  He stiffened when something creaked nearby, his skin flushing, hands hardening in preparation for a fight, but the familiar whistle, yet another signal he’d taught Drake once they’d started working together, made him relax and answer in the same way.

  Drake was finally here, his footsteps just rustle of grass, with the slightest bit of a crunch whenever he stepped on dried wood or cones. It hadn’t rained for long enough that even he couldn’t remain perfectly quiet in this terrain.

  “He must still be in there. They’re holding him as some modern-day gladiator. It’s fucked up,” Tank said, lowering the binoculars to look at the dark silhouette.

  Drake kneeled next to him. Tank smiled when he saw a rifle in Drake’s hand. Boar, as the best sniper of the group, was usually the one to handle that part of the job, but Drake wasn’t bad at it either. “Good thinking. You think you’ll be able to hit them in the dark if push comes to shove?”

  “Can’t imagine anyone driving fast on this road. It’s like Swiss cheese. Where are Clover and Pyro?”

  Tank took a deep breath and straightened, realizing how little he’d talked to Drake in the past few months. “They’re in my pickup. It broke down. You can pick them up later, once our target’s on the move. There can be no more fuckups.”

  Drake remained still, squeezing the rifle. “I shouldn’t have left.”

  Tank exhaled, shifting when a small piece of wood digging into flesh became too much of an irritation. “No, you shouldn’t have. What did you even argue with Clover about?”

  Drake gave a raspy sound, hesitant, as if he were worried about Tank’s reaction. But Tank had chewed through so much shit tonight already nothing could possibly throw him off guard.

  “Clover is too accepting. I can’t stand him telling me that what happened wasn’t that big of a deal. You weren’t there, Tank. It was…” He went quiet, clearly deciding some things were best left unsaid.

  “He’s been acting different since then, I didn’t know the half of it. And then you disappear all the time and leave him
alone with it? I know you’ve been through shit, but isolation doesn’t help anyone.” Tank hesitated but patted Drake’s shoulder. “He wants you back. And I do too.”

  Drake flinched, but didn’t try to shift away from the touch like he would have before Clover had managed to open him up to casual physical contact. “He had you. Do you really think the man who… did this to him should be the one trying to pick up the pieces? No matter what he says, my presence reminds him of the worst moments of his life,” Drake said, finally pulling away.

  Since there was no movement between their position and the building, Tank turned to look into Drake’s eyes. “You were the one to tell me I can’t protect him from everything. You were right. So why are you trying to protect him from yourself when he’s crying for you to come back? If you respect him, give him the choice instead of making it for him.”

  Drake’s face remained tense, his eyes trained on the glow from the property in the distance. “He only does this because he’s missing the good times, not because he actually needs me. I’m not good for him, Tank, okay? I did this. It’s my fault.”

  Tank put his arm over Drake’s shoulders, wary to take it away if Drake didn’t want the touch. His body was pure muscle and deadly perfection, yet he seemed so fragile Tank worried touching Drake might break him.

  “You were forced to. This is exactly the torment Apollo wanted to inflict. Clover is far from fine, he is still working through what happened, but it feels like you haven’t moved forward even an inch. If he could forgive you, you should forgive yourself too.”

  Drake didn’t pull away, his throat working slowly, but the fact that he wasn’t snapping right back to stop the sensitive conversation, like he continuously had for the past four months, was progress. “I’ve become just like the people who did the same to me. And I promised I’d protect him. When push came to shove, I couldn’t even do that,” he choked out.