Black operator complete.., p.40
Black Operator--Complete Box Set (Books 1-6), page 40
"It hurts, sister."
"Shut up, you big baby. Of course it hurts. It’ll teach you a lesson. If you’d killed them, it wouldn't have happened. But don't worry. You'll have another chance soon. We’re going after them."
But he was shaking his head in despair. "Look at my arms, sister. The burns, they’re deep. I need treatment."
She scoffed. "A shot of vodka is what you need. The treatment can wait."
Kolya approached, his expression downcast. "They got away."
“Idiots. Find a vehicle. We’re going after them."
“There is just the police minivan, the one they use for transporting the prisoners."
"Then get it, you fool," she snarled.
He walked away without a word. Kazimir was still whimpering in pain and pleading with her to help him. She knew what he needed, something to take his mind off it.
"My brother, when this is done, I will find you a treat. A girl."
"You mean…"
"Yes, the kind you like. Young and pure, someone you can use and then discard." She paused for a moment, "There is one thing. Next time you must promise not to make such a mess, not like you did with the last one. Did you know the manager of the motel complained? He said he'd report you to the police, so I had to kill him."
"Did you enjoy it, sister? Like I do?"
Her eyes had a faraway look. "Yes, Kazimir, I enjoyed it."
The angelic face relaxed, and she smiled. "The pinnacle of life is death, is it not?" The smile broadened, "Provided it’s someone else's death, of course."
They both guffawed, and without seeing the expression on their faces, it could have sounded like a lighter moment between brother and sister; unless a listener paid more attention and heard the ugly depths that motivated them. Kazimir stopped laughing.
"Sister, you won’t forget the girl. Young."
"Don't worry." She patted him on the cheek, "Sweet, innocent, and ripe for the plucking. Just the way you like them."
"And you, Kareena? How will you relax? When this job is done, you deserve a break."
"I will watch you, my brother. I always enjoy observing what you do to them.” She smiled, “Who knows, I may even learn something."
She looked around. "Where is Kolya with the minivan?"
He shrugged. "I don’t know. But even when he brings it, we don't know where they’ve gone."
"There you are wrong, my little brother. I will soon know exactly where they’ve gone. It's simple. We wait. Somewhere out of sight. The cops will go after them. The cruiser they stole will be easy to track, and we’ll follow them. As soon as we get close, I have a way to pinpoint their exact position.”
“Pinpoint their exact position?”
“Near enough to smell them."
"I don't want to smell them. I want to kill them."
She patted his cheek again. “And you will kill them, my little Kazimir. Afterward, all you will smell is their blood when it is leaking out on the ground. Then you may remove their limbs and display them on trees, just as you like to do."
He chuckled contentedly, almost like an infant to whom she'd handed a candy. He said one word as he licked his thick, distorted, rubbery lips, "Yes."
Chapter Three
“What the fuck happened here?"
It wasn’t a question, more of a rant. Sheriff Henry Dodge VIII was going ballistic. He stared in fury at the wreckage of his office. A huge hole had appeared in the wall of the holding cell, and the body of a deputy lay in the corridor. When no one answered, his voice rose to an angry bellow.
"Those bastards set fire to half the county, killed Deputy Brace, and at least a dozen of the residents in the outlying houses are dead from the fire they started. Now you say they've gone. Can anyone tell me what the fuck is happening? Or is the world going completely mad?”
Deputy Roger Page kept his careful expression neutral. "Sheriff, I’ve put the word out on the radio. We have every cop in the county out looking for them, including the State Police. They won't get far."
"Sweet Jesus, they'd better not. Did I hear right, someone said they stole my cruiser?"
A reluctant nod; "I’m afraid that's correct, Sheriff."
He shook his head, and with every shake his skin went a deeper shade of red.
“I want those fucking sons of bitches, and I want them now. I don't care how you do it, but get every man out looking for them. Get ‘em out of bed if necessary, into uniform and join the hunt. If I find a single cop in the county not out scouring the area for them, I want to know why. Move it, Page, rouse the idle bastards, and find those runaways."
"Yes, Sheriff." Page dipped his head in agreement, "Er, Sir, there is one thing. How do we handle it when we find them? Do you want our people to call it in and we’ll surround them? Put up roadblocks, call in SWAT, that kind of thing, and try to negotiate?”
"Surround them? Negotiate?” He was shaking in fierce indignation, “You must be fucking joking. You’ve seen what they did. The order is shoot on sight, no ifs, no buts. I want the helicopter up during every moment of remaining daylight, and make sure it one carries a marksman. Alert the airfields, the bus and train stations, the floatplane base, and put up roadblocks. Checked the CCTV cameras on the highways, and alert the lake patrols. Wherever they went, I want to know, and when we find them, they’re dead meat. Now move out!"
"Yes, Sheriff."
Deputy Page's placid expression irritated him. The man was altogether too calm, and too cool in the face of an emergency that had already torn the county into little pieces, chewed them up, and spat them out. He sighed with growing frustration.
"Get us a car now. We’ll check out Traverse City airfield. I reckon that's our best bet. They'll either try to sneak out by air or by water. If they do try to cross the lake, we’ll overfly them and shoot the bastards from the air."
"Yes, Sheriff. Sir, I'm not sure this ‘shoot on sight order’ is exactly legal…"
Dodge rounded on him. "Roger, how many fucking bodies does it take before we get to put these animals down?"
Page’s voice remained quiet and respectful. "Sheriff, we don't know all the details yet. They may not even be guilty. I mean, they were locked in the holding cell, so how did they get out? And what about the truck that ran into the wall? There's something strange going on. Something we don’t yet understand.”
"Strange is right. Quite frankly, I couldn't give a shit. I know enough, and my order stands. Shoot on sight. Now move it."
Page gave up trying to argue and strolled out toward the nearest cruiser. Dodge followed, and then stopped a passing deputy. Walt Liggett, his gung-ho son-in-law, and a mean, ornery sonofabitch who'd kept his job for one reason, his father-in-law's influence. Liggett was a sadist. Everyone knew that for a fact. Although on occasion, Sheriff Dodge was more than happy to use his particular talents for certain jobs that other deputies would have refused. Right now, he could use a platoon of sadists.
"Walt, we're going after the escaped prisoners. I want the armored car and the SWAT van to follow us. Fix it up."
Liggett did a double take. "You think it'll be that bad? They’re only four fugitives, they’ll be easy. Just shoot the bastards the moment we see ‘em.”
"Look at what they’ve done so far. I'm not taking any chances, not until they’re all dead.”
"Yes, Sheriff. Say, you mind if I drive the armored car? That thing is a real killing machine. I mean, Sheriff, you’ve seen that motherfucker of a flamethrower on top. I've been waiting a long time for a chance to put it to work."
“I’ve told you before, all of you. We cannot use a military grade flamethrower against civilian targets. Damn, I’ve been telling them for months to take that thing out.”
Liggett paused and decided to go along, for now.
“You’re right, Sheriff, it’s not suited to law enforcement work. But as for the armored car, let me drive her. I promise to take care of her. I’ve been admiring that baby ever since they delivered it. Didn’t it come to us from Iraq?”
He nodded absently. “Yeah, a National Guard unit, under the program to divert surplus hardware to domestic law enforcement. Okay, you're in luck, Walt. Take the armored car, and remember. The rules of engagement are clear, maximum lethal force. Shoot on sight.”
"Yessir."
“But no flamethrower. Clear?”
“Yes, Sheriff.”
“Good. Now get out of here, and tell those SWAT guys to haul ass."
* * *
They'd made it to the shore of Lake Superior, and Rhodes wound up the windows, put the car into drive, and wedged a branch against the gas pedal. The vehicle rolled forward, down the boat-launching ramp, and slid into the water. It floated out into the lake, slowly sinking. Twenty yards out, with a cascade of bubbles it went under for all time.
They were waiting for him to outline their next move. He’d been trying to work it out, and so far, he’d resolved a few vague possibilities, but there were still many questions left unanswered. Questions that might get them killed, but in the meantime, they had to stay out of the grasp of the Sheriff’s men, and even worse, the Karpovs.
"If we get the chance we need to steal a boat once it gets dark. We can slip across into Canada. Although a lot depends on what assets they have out looking for us. All I do know is that we need to get out of this bottleneck, and fast. I don't know any other way. They'll be watching airports, highways, train and bus stations. I reckon the boat is our best hope, provided they’re not watching too close. There are thousands of them along the shore, and they can't keep an eye on them all. But for now, we need to lay up inside the forest until nightfall.”
They were too tired to argue and followed him into the wood. Ten yards inside they paralleled the shore, staying in the shadows, and in the distance they heard the distinctive wail of sirens. The ‘whump whump’ of rotor blades joined the hunt minutes later, and the rotorcraft swept over the lake as the search continued. He was beginning to think his plan to take a boat was in trouble. He went to the edge of the trees and looked out. Cops were everywhere, a patrol boat out on the lake, and a cruiser driving slowly along the shore. The helicopter was overhead, conducting a grid search pattern, and more sirens were getting louder as they came closer. He slid back into the wood.
"We may have to forget the boat, at least until they pull some of those cops away from this search area. We’ll stay here and get some rest. Maybe we’ll get a chance later."
He was exhausted after the long pursuit, and the hammer blows the creature had inflicted on him were still painful. A dull, aching tiredness overcame him, and he slipped into a deep sleep, until he felt a touch on his shoulder. He opened one eye, grabbing for his Colt, but it was Yuri.
"Is it time for my watch?"
The Russian put up his finger to his lips and spoke in a murmur. "They could be here. Someone’s moving around in the forest, about five hundred yards away."
"Any chance it's an animal?"
He shook his head. “I don't think so. Whatever is breaking down the branches as it moves through the forest is something big. It could be a bear, I guess, but I think it's more likely to be an animal of a different kind. One with the name of Karpov."
He was already on his feet, grabbing one of the AR-15s he’d liberated from the Sheriff’s office. He listened to the distant sounds, and sure enough the noise was there, but he still wasn't certain. "It could be a bear, Yuri. Don't wake the others, not yet, they need the rest. Stay here, I’ll check it out."
The noise came from the part of the forest closest to the lake, and he first looked carefully for any sign of police activity. But they'd moved to another part of the shoreline about a half-mile away. He walked for two hundred yards through the forest and found the noise had stopped. He stepped out in the open, swiveled his gaze around, and felt a thud of anxiety. A boat, a big cruiser was out in the lake, a couple of hundred yards offshore. Kareena Karpov was standing on the prow motionless, watching him. An M-60 machine gun was set up on a tripod on the deck next to her. The weapon was pointed at him. One hundred yards further along the shore, two dark figures stepped into view from between the trees.
They were moving fast, closing the distance, almost jogging, and he had no choice but to retrace his steps into the forest to warn the others. The Karpovs were moving unerringly toward the clearing where Maria was still sleeping, and he rushed inside to alert them.
"Move! It’s the Karpovs."
They scrambled to their feet, grabbing for their gear. He explained about Kareena Karpov out on the lake with the machine gun, and the two brothers on the shore coming toward them. Maria gave him a quizzical look.
"Why hasn’t she opened fire? Even through the trees, she has a chance of hitting something, if she’s that sure of where we are.”
"Because her brothers are standing in the way. If she rakes the forest with the M-60, the chances are she'll hit them. We should attack them now, while we have that slight advantage."
"Attack? Are you crazy?" She looked appalled, "How can you attack creatures like that?"
"In the traditional way. We shoot the bastards. Aim, pull the trigger, and keep on firing until they're dead."
She looked doubtful, with good reason. Even if they presented themselves as targets, which was unlikely, it would take a great deal of lead to put those two men down. And Kareena would still be out on the lake with the machine gun. He assessed his pitiful force and came to a decision.
"I’ll do it. Yuri, you stay with Maria, and guard her with your life. Stan, I want you with me to back me up."
The trapper looked alarmed. "You got to be kidding me. You want me to go up against those two monsters? It ain't gonna happen, buddy. You need a hand, you better come up with another plan."
"I’ll go," Yuri said quickly.
Cris didn’t have a choice, and he impressed on Stan the importance of taking care of Maria. He still had doubts about the militiaman, but he was all he had to cover the girl. He and Yuri checked that both magazines of their AR-15s were full and left the clearing. They were ready to do battle with the monsters.
The two men crept silently through the forest, and peering through the trees he could see the Karpov brothers outside the treeline next to the shore. They worked their way around to keep the Russians between Kareena and them, to make it almost impossible for her to get a clear shot. Satisfied they’d done what they could to secure the advantage, they crept nearer in almost total silence. Until Yuri stepped on a broken branch, and it snapped with an audible ‘crack.’
He knew what was about to happen, and he started to run. When he reached the shore, they’d gone. There was just the woman on the prow of the boat two hundred yards offshore, and when they appeared in the open, she dove behind the machine gun and squeezed the trigger. A hurricane of 7.62mm bullets lashed around them, and they threw themselves flat on the ground. Both men returned fire, but the light was poor, reflections off the water making everything move in different directions at once. They had little chance of getting in a good aimed shot. They stayed low to avoid the whiplash of bullets slashing around them, waiting for it to stop.
They were in a stalemate, and Cris was trying to work out their next move when he heard a cry from further in the forest. Somehow, they'd reached Maria, and even now she could be dead. He disregarded the streams of bullets slashing at him through the trees, catapulted to his feet, and rushed back into the forest. He was aware of Yuri racing behind him, much slower, and his legs pumped as he sprinted at full speed toward the clearing where he'd left Maria and Stan Miles.
He broke out into the open, and a ghoulish Russian was on one side. On the other, half hidden by the thick trunk of a tree stood Maria. Stan Miles had disappeared. At least that was his assumption, but when he scanned the ground, he saw a body lying in a crumpled, bloody heap close to the Karpov brother. The trapper had hunted for the last time. The Russian didn't see him at first, and he drew a long machete from under his coat and began to hack at the limbs of Stan’s corpse. Maria saw Cris, tore her eyes from the gruesome scene, and made to come toward him, but he gestured for her to stay behind cover. He wanted to sprint over to her, and lend her the protection of the AR-15, but the moment he tried to reach her, the monster would see him. He had to take him on, but there was something else. There were two brothers. Where was the other?
He turned to Yuri to tell him to lock and load, but he'd disappeared. He glanced around the forest, and there was nothing.
The bastard has run. Damn, why did I ever think I could trust him? But at least I know Stan Miles wasn't the one who ratted us out to the Karpovs. It had to have been Yuri all along, but why? He's an escapee from the gulags, and all the Russians can offer him is death. A long, agonizing death in the icy wastes of Siberia, or a quick death with a bullet in the back of the neck. Either way, it doesn't make any sense.
He was on his own, and he prepared to attack the Karpov brother before he had a chance to go after Maria. He snapped a new magazine into the AR-15, and the noise attracted the attention of the ghoul. He looked up with a bloody grin and shambled toward him.
He brought up the stock of the rifle to empty a magazine into him. Surely, he had to go down this time. But a new burst of machine gun fire tore through the trees and arced closer. A bullet smashed into the rifle and tore it out of his hands. The monster was still coming, and he snatched up the gun off the ground before it was too late. The bullet had torn apart the breech mechanism, and it was useless. He reversed his grip, held it by the barrel, and smashed a hard blow onto the head of the man who was almost on him. If he noticed the blows Cris hit him with, he didn’t show it.
What does it take to kill these Karpovs? It’s like fighting a main battle tank.
The man was almost on him again, and he made a desperate grab for his Colt, but a hand like the end of a steel girder whipped out and knocked it from his grip. The other hand was coming toward him, and he dodged away. Knowing he was in a fight to the death, one of them had to go down. The likelihood of it being the Karpov brother was remote.
