part0035

J eremiah made sure to drop Jessica off at the airport. It seemed like the smart tactic to make sure she had everything she needed. He doubted that Carlson would try to make a move in such a busy and open place, especially one so crowded with cameras and security. It would be a nightmare to conduct, which was the precise reason why most of the assassinations he’d run himself were always performed en route to the airport, and not inside. There was simply no way to get in and out without a hundred police officers and security people determined to be a hero.

It still felt wrong to both leave her and send her. And, he reasoned belligerently, it was wrong that it did. He didn’t like the sensation that nagged at the back of his mind and told him constantly that he’d made the wrong decision. It made him doubt himself and his decisions, and he really couldn’t afford to do that at this juncture. He needed to be focused.

It was annoying how she was in his thoughts now. All he needed was to enter that state of mind in which he could be of use to Anderson if their adversaries did come and put his family in danger. It irked him that all he could think about was the fact that he’d had to leave Jessica at the airport. She’d told him to be safe and reminded him again that he needed to survive if they wanted to finish that talk of theirs.

For the first hour of his trip, he couldn’t get that out of his head. Anja had told him that she’d boarded the plane safely, which assured him that at least she hadn’t tried to screw them over. He wasn’t the trusting type, but there was something in him that really wanted her to not be the kind of person who would betray them like that. With the hacker’s eye on her, he was sure that any attempts to double-cross them would be caught and quickly corrected.

About halfway through the second hour of his four-hour drive to Virginia, he wasn’t sure which mental attitude he would have preferred. He had a history of putting people out of his mind. Whether they were actually dead or simply dead to him, he was always good at keeping his mind compartmentalized and being able to deal with emotional problems when he was ready to deal with them. Sometimes, they took a little longer, which was why he had stayed away from his family for all this time.

Of course, he now had more reasons to avoid them, but that was another compartment that he would dig into another time.

For now, he needed to keep his mind on what was happening. Yet, despite his need to enter that detached, killing-machine separation, the novelty of his response to Jessica presented an oddly tempting alternative. He sighed and refocused his thoughts on the mission.

Anja gave him regular updates of what was happening with the rest of their team. Monroe had sent a security contingent to meet Jessica at the airport and escort her all the way to the Pegasus building. After he and Anja had unwittingly exposed a horde of security flaws in the place, they had put a lot of effort into making it all but impenetrable, electronically or physically. Jeremiah wasn’t sure what they’d achieved in the physical aspects, but he had to assume that with Anja’s help, the electronic security would be top-of-the-line.

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The driving didn’t require much focus. The car that he’d rented had one of those self-driving features that you could turn on once you reached a highway. It allowed him to simply let the car cruise without much effort from his side. Of course, he had to remain seated in the vehicle, and occasionally, it would remind him to put his hands on the wheel to make sure that he was still awake. Other than that, all he had to do was stare out into the admittedly gorgeous landscape and think.

As it turned out, being stuck in a car with his own thoughts wasn’t as pleasant as he thought it might be, even though he now drove a spanking new Cadillac Escalade. Turning the local radio on was a bust. A couple of films on the big, heads-up display allowed him to pass the time watching what looked like a fictionalized version of what was happening in the Zoo. They were already making films about it.

Some of the larger budget movies would take a couple more years to be released, but those with the smaller budgets, minor directors, and lesser-known cast members were already available around the world. Of course, the fact that they were already being publicly played on an open radio broadcast didn’t augur well for their ratings on the more prestigious streaming platforms.

They offered only brainless action, terrible one-liners, and all the tropes that Savage usually needed in the films he watched when he wanted to turn his brain off. But he was too distracted to enjoy it. His mind already worked in overdrive as he watched the napalm-infused explosions and people firing massive guns without ear protection. Despite all that, the characters were able to grumble and growl through their lines a few seconds later, and he couldn’t help but mentally dissect everything to the point where there was no enjoyment in the finish. He was almost glad for the silence that came to him once it was over. Almost. It wasn’t exactly an improvement, but it also was no worse.

Jeremiah eased his fingers around the steering wheel and adjusted his grip a little.

“You should be coming up to the road that turns off to Anderson’s home right about now,” Anja said. “The GPS in that car of yours should show that. Let me know if you see anything in the area that tells you that an attack on Anderson is incoming.”

“I assume you’ve at least warned him about it?” he asked as he approached a road that peeled away from the highway. He assumed that this was the one she meant, and he switched the car out of self-drive mode, took over himself, and eased into the right lane and off the highway.

“Well, yes, but as it turns out, getting your family out of a country estate isn’t exactly easy. And he said that his home is actually a lot easier to defend than a car out in the middle of the road, especially since he has a Suburban. He doesn’t like his chances against what will probably be four SUVs out in the open. Carlson has dropped the gloves by now, so I doubt that a carjacking is out of the question. I didn’t agree, but he seemed adamant.”

“You should have insisted,” he said. “Being on the move makes you a lot harder to track and attack than if you stay in one place. I think he’s made a mistake.”

“I’ll send the message along,” she replied dryly.

“Well, it’s a moot point right now,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I think they’re already here.” Jeremiah tensed and slowed his approach. “That, or a bunch of guys decided to have a big hunting party only three miles away from Anderson’s home and to bring all their SUVs with them.”

“Yep, that about sums it up,” he grumbled as he pulled his car over behind the other vehicles. He took a moment to scrutinize them while he considered the options. They wouldn’t have left their vehicles unattended, especially out there in the boonies. He would have someone to deal with there.

All he needed to do was make sure that the men were actually headed toward Anderson’s house while he waited in his car. He had to risk letting the ex-colonel take care of these men on his own and not charge in himself. If he had any chance to make it there, he needed to be cautious. Slow, and methodical would keep him and, hopefully, his boss alive. For now, there would be at least one man he could deal with.

Sure enough, the door of the SUV parked at the back opened and a man in fatigues stepped out, a hand on his weapon as he walked over to the SUV Jeremiah had rented. His face wore a look of confusion, but he was being cautious. The operative pulled his phone out and assumed an expression of frustration, although his hand clasped the suppressed Colt that he’d taken from the men who had tried to kidnap Jessica. He’d kept the weapons since the serial numbers had already been filed off and he could never have enough guns.

Anja, thankfully, had another contact who had met him at the first gas station and simply handed over the ammo he required for these, no questions asked on either side. One day, he’d have to ask her about those underground gun running contacts. Of course, if the police pulled him over at any point, he would have a lot of questions to answer, but in that moment, the problems he had to focus on didn’t include the local police.

The man narrowed his eyes as he tapped the window with the butt of his pistol. Jeremiah nodded brusquely like he hadn’t seen the weapon and fiddled with his phone. At another more insistent tap, he looked up with an annoyed expression and widened his eyes as any unsuspecting traveler would do when he saw the man’s weapon. Quickly, he depressed the button that would open his window.

“Sir, this is a restricted area,” the man said sternly.

“What?” He did his best to look confused. “No, I…my GPS told me to come down this road. I’m meeting my friends for a hunting trip, and they weren’t great with directions. They must have thought that it was funny to simply give me coordinates, but here I am, and I think I’m lost. Never trust technology, right?”

“Sir, you really have to leave,” the gunman said, a note of frustration in his tone.

“I want to leave but I won’t drive around these fucking boonies without any idea of where I’m going.” He rolled his eyes and looked at his phone. “Can you at least tell me where the nearest gas station is? I think I’ll find them there drinking beers and laughing at the idea of me being lost.”

The instinct to not be a terrible person and help someone in need overrode the orders to not let anyone approach the Anderson country house. The lookout glanced at the highway as he ordered his thoughts to relay directions and took his eye off the operative for barely a second.

He had no chance to tell him where the nearest gas station was. Savage drew his pistol clear and the loud pop of the suppressed shot drove the slug through the man’s right eye and out the other side with a spray of red.

With his weapon cradled in his right hand, he stepped out of the car and quickly inspected his target. He was dead, there was no doubt about that, but he crouched beside the body and searched beneath the man’s jacket to reveal a body armor vest. After a quick moment of thought, he decided to strip the man of it and donned it himself. You never knew when you would need something like that in these situations, and why turn his nose up at free equipment? He took in a deep breath and rummaged further. An encrypted radio was attached to a clip on the man’s hip.

“Anja, I have a radio here. Could you crack it and get me intel on what the people are up to?” He lost interest in the body and moved to open his burlap bag in the back of his car. At least he didn’t have to haul it out. His ribs and other injuries would already be a handicap, and he’d take whatever he could to avoid making it worse unnecessarily.

“Will do. Keep it in range of your earpiece, and I’ll be able to get a solid read on it,” she replied.

He nodded and slid the radio into his pocket before he removed his weapons from the bag. With swift but considered actions, he discarded the pistol and replaced it with his Glock, which he tucked into the back of his pants. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and gripped the sawed-off shotgun in his hands. It had a strap too if he needed it, but he preferred to hold it if he could.

Satisfied that he had what he needed, he locked the vehicle and hiked into the woods that surrounded the road. It felt good to have real firepower with him this time around. Pistols were decent enough weapons. They were small, had enough stopping power to be dependable, and were all around versatile firearms, but they weren’t the best at anything. They were Jacks of all trades that you could carry around easily.

But when the time came for a gunfight, he knew he would rather have a shotgun or a rifle in his hands. An assault rifle would have been better for the range, but unless he could get his hands on a weapon his enemies dropped, he wouldn’t have access to one. A shotgun, a knife, and a hunting rifle would have to do, for now.

As he pushed deeper into the woods, Savage scanned for tracks. He’d been trained in hunting the enemy in wilderness almost like this. Boots were easy to identify in wet woodlands, which allowed him to follow their fairly direct route toward Anderson’s house.

“How close are you to cracking that encryption, Anja?” he asked and pitched his voice low while he swiveled his head constantly as he slowed his approach.

“I have it…now. Patching you in,” she replied. A touch of static crackled over his connection as a couple of men spoke.

“How’s that approach looking, Overwatch? Over.”

“Approach is clear, Ground Leader. I repeat, you are clear all the way to the house. Over.” Both voices used hushed tones, but he was able to hear them clearly.

“Overwatch,” Savage mumbled belligerently. “That means they have a sniper overlooking the house now. I need to find him. Anja, can you send me a topographical map of the area?”

“Come on, Savage,” the hacker complained. “Your phone doesn’t even have reception that deep in the woods. You’re lucky the satellite connection has kept us live, but at this point, I don’t have any visual aid on the area. You’re on your own.”

“Yeah, I was afraid that was the case.” He studied the area around him while his mind raced. Anyone who would set up in an overwatch position would have to be uphill and most likely at an angle to cover as much of the house from one spot as possible. It was a long shot, but he had to take it. He wouldn’t be able to assist Anderson if someone fired at him from behind. His first priority was definitely that sniper.

He slowed his approach even further, draped his shotgun over his shoulder, and retrieved the garotte from his pocket. The chances were that he wouldn’t be able to find the man in time, but he could always set up where he could slow their assault down. That might hopefully put himself in a position to pick the sniper off that way.

The odds weren’t great, of course. While he had decent enough skill in long-range shooting, he had never really qualified as a counter-sniper. His business was usually conducted up-close and personal.

“I have a signal,” Anja said softly. “One of the radios near you is giving off a ready signal. It’s roughly to your northeast. Keep heading that way.”

It had to be his sniper, Savage mused. He could only hope that they hadn’t brought enough people to merit a spotter for the man. They couldn’t be more than five-hundred-yards away from the house, though. Why would they need a spotter?

“That’s right, Savage,” he grumbled under his breath. “Way to stay positive.”

“What was that?”

He pressed on, his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Ghillie suits these days could blend into almost any environment and he would have a hard time finding it. All he could really do was keep moving and hope he tripped over the man. He’d actually convinced himself that this was his only option when he spotted a small hump in the forest chaff. He froze and narrowed his eyes to scrutinize the shape, then grinned. A man lay prone with a big 50-cal sniper rifle.

Or, Savage thought with a small, ironic grin, just come out right on top of him. He inched closer, careful to watch where he placed his boots. The man wore no covering of any kind. He simply lay on a tarp on the ground and hugged his rifle close. The operative gritted his teeth at the implied insult. Anderson at least merited a proper hit. Did these guys really think so little of the man that they didn’t bother to equip their sniper properly?

Time seemed to slow as he edged forward with elaborate caution. The man seemed relaxed and even careless. There was nothing in his posture or attitude that suggested real alertness or focus. He was clearly not a sniper by trade. Jeremiah prepared the piano wire and grasped the handles firmly as he scowled his disapproval. The attitude was definitely disrespectful toward Anderson. He had been Special Forces, for crying out loud. Did they really think that half-assing it like this was the proper way to kill an ex-Special Forces colonel?

Savage launched onto the man, who hadn’t even noticed his approach. The sniper grunted in pain when his attacker’s elbow jabbed into his back. He tried to cry out to alert the team that he was under attack, but the garrote was already around his throat. It was thin but not thin enough to cut into his airways or even draw blood.

The target grabbed at the wire as his assailant planted his knee in his lower back and used that as leverage to pull upward. Odd ticks pulsed against the garrote’s wire as the man’s carotids tried desperately to supply his brain with oxygen. At this point, all training was choked out of his mind and his only instinct was to try to breathe again as the deadly tension cut off his airways.

Savage applied more and more pressure and tried to make sure neither he nor his victim made a sound. The sniper made a desperate grab for the rifle to get a warning shot off, but his attacker moved quicker and shoved the weapon with his foot.

There was an almost tangible sensation when the man’s brain ceased activity and he slumped forward. With no time to wait for him to die from the chokehold, the operative drew his knife and plunged it firmly into the broad back beneath him and twisted it roughly. He felt the man’s spine snap, and the would-be killer exhaled one last, dying breath.

“I take it you found the sniper nest, then?” Anja asked.

“You could say that.” He growled his response, a little out of breath as he rolled the man off the tarp and retrieved the cannon of a rifle he’d had to push away in the struggle. His grin wide, he cradled it into his shoulder.

“Well, hello, beautiful,” he said softly and almost intimately as he traced his fingers over the hard steel lines of the weapon. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Do you two need a room?” the hacker snarked.

“Despite what you may have heard on the Internet, Anja, bigger is better—at least when it comes to guns,” he retorted with a giddy laugh.

“Do you have an erection right now?” she asked. “Because…gross.”

“Tell Anderson that his house is about to be breached and that he has someone covering him from afar with a big-ass rifle.” Savage snapped back to reality. He made sure that there was a round chambered and that the safety was off before he aimed toward Anderson’s house.

“Already done, Kilgore.” Her chuckle definitely sounded sarcastic.

Savage ignored her. He wouldn’t let the hacker ruin this moment for him. Yes, he liked making his kills up close, but there wasn’t a man alive who couldn’t appreciate the sheer majesty of the 50-cal sniper rifle. Hell, he thought with a grin, with this thing, I could probably kill a building .

It was overkill from this distance, which he gauged at a little over five hundred yards. He ran the quick calculations that he remembered from his time training with long-distance shooting to account for the wind and the drop. The rifle itself was already zeroed in perfectly, so he didn’t need to add anything to that.

Satisfied, he settled in to wait but within a few seconds, a group of ten or so men broke from the foliage. Unlike the sniper, these were professionals. They moved smoothly in groups of three or four each, remained under cover, and never allowed their lines of fire to cross one of their comrades.

Their efficiency really was a pity. He’d hoped for the same shoddy attitude that had characterized the sniper. Savage took in a deep breath and released it slowly as he watched them proceed unerringly toward the house.

“Tell Anderson that his approach party is close,” he said, his voice calm. The cold control settled in his stomach and adrenaline pumped through his body. He welcomed the calm realization that he was ready for a fight.

“Will do, Savage,” Anja replied. He remained silent and tracked one of the men in the crosshairs of his rifle. He didn’t need to actually hit anyone—only grab their attention and slow their movements—but he really wanted to make this first shot count. His selection was the one who seemed to lead the group. He could tell that from the way that he motioned for the two teams of three to break away and flank the building as he and three others pushed across the last patch of open ground.

He breathed deep, exhaled slowly, and reached the end of the air in his lungs as he squeezed the trigger.

Bullets from a gun this big wouldn’t be stopped by the body armor these men wore, so he didn’t bother to try for a headshot. The body shot was effective, and the slug powered through the man and out the other side in a wide crimson spray. The ammo didn’t make much of a hole going in, but they were certainly showy on the way out.

The leader fell instantly, and from the blood that poured from the wound, his quarry wouldn’t get up again.

The group of three remaining men froze and looked at their leader before they spun in an effort to make out where the shot had come from.

Jeremiah yanked the bolt back, ejected the spent casing, and slapped another one in.

“Overwatch, come in,” one of the team yelled over the radio. “We have another sniper on our six. Repeat, we have another sniper on our six. Confirm!”

“No shit, dummies.” He grinned and aimed at the man who was talking and squeezed the trigger again. A quarter of a second passed before his target’s head exploded and Savage wondered if this was the shot that would alert the attackers that he was shooting at them from their now-dead sniper’s nest.