Desire Unleashed (35 page)

He lifted the AKM and stared down the sight of his weapon. If anyone in the compound made a false move, he would take them out, no problem. Their orders had been explicit—secure the hostages and take no prisoners.

The hostages were a high-profile nuclear physicist, widely acclaimed to be a leader in his field, and his nineteen-year-old daughter. They’d been abducted by mercenaries while holidaying in Siem Reap, Cambodia. The intention was clear—the mercs would force him to make nuclear weapons to sell on the black market for seriously big bucks. The daughter was their insurance policy.

The former USSR had over one hundred tons of weapons-grade plutonium just sitting in a warehouse waiting for disarmament, and a shitload had just gone missing. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and come up with nuclear weapons.

It was heavy-duty stuff. A little more than two pounds of Pu-239 slowly being consumed in a conventional reactor over three years could produce enough heat to generate almost ten million kilowatt-hours of electricity. Enough to power up a small suburb. It would only take twenty-two pounds of the stuff to make a sizeable bomb, and they’d stolen more than enough to do some serious damage. To produce that amount alone would require thirty megawatt-years of reactor time. These guys had just waltzed in, taken what they’d wanted, and waltzed out again unopposed. What they were prepared to do with it didn’t bear thinking about.

Ice had read the intel files and reported as much to the team. The mercs were preparing to move the hostages to a new location. If that happened the chances for their recovery would be slim to zilch. As it was, they were damn lucky their whereabouts had been leaked to the government so quickly, but should the rescue attempt fail today the repercussions could prove catastrophic.

The prisoners were being held in a small wooden shack, not much bigger than a breadbox, fifty yards to the right of the main building. They’d been locked up for most of the day, only released for an hour in the morning and then another in the evening. In these temperatures, it would be a sweatbox hotter than the fires of Hades.

Despite the heat, the girl looked to be doing okay. Grubby and scared, but still holding it together and should be able to make it out under her own steam. Her old man was a different kettle of fish. Moving slow and limping, whether from fatigue or injury it was hard to say. But in all probability, he’d need assistance.

The plan was basic but not foolproof. Rescue the prisoners at all costs and then get the flock out of there. Wolf and Havoc would secure the captives and get them to the chopper. Frosty and Ice would cover them or cause a diversion, whatever the party called for. He would remain in the jungle, covering all their butts. Rendezvous was in fourteen minutes, if all went according to plan, tomorrow they’d be sipping cappuccinos in Coronado.

Hawk watched intently as his team adjusted their NVG’s and surrounded the perimeter of the complex. Ice indicated his orders with an elaborate set of hand signals. Wolf, Frosty, and Havoc were to circle behind, wait for his signal then take out their targets simultaneously.

Things were about to heat up.

With Ice’s signal, the other three sprang into action.

Hawk narrowed his gaze. There was no moon to cast warning shadows. The dense cloud cover obliterated it, making it easier for the guys to melt into the darkness. He sucked in a couple of big ones as he watched Ice, panther-like, creep up on his target undetected from behind. Lightning quick, his arm shot out and seized the unfriendly who opened his mouth to shout. The sound never made it past his lips. With a hard twist of his head, Ice had snapped the man’s neck like a twig. A simple technique but effective, the sentry was dead before he hit the ground. Hawk swept his gaze over the other three. Likewise, their targets had been neutralized.

And then there were eight. So far, so good.

*

Wolf and Havoc crept toward the makeshift prison. There was no movement coming from the small structure. All was quiet except for the occasional snore of a sleeping hostage. The guard was propped against the door, he appeared to be sleeping too, but the men had been around long enough not to take anything as a given.

Inching around to the back of the building, Wolf peered through the narrow gap, a sorry excuse for a window that barely let in air. The two hostages were asleep on narrow canvas cots separated by a table and a rickety chair.

He moved to the side and gave Havoc the thumbs up. Moving like a shadow in the night, Havoc eased up to the guard. The sharp crack of a twig under foot was like a canon shot in the silence, it reverberated, announcing the harbinger of doom.

The guard instantly alert, whipped his head in the direction of the noise, lifted his AK-47, and took aim. Havoc sprang into action. Like a crouching tiger attacking its prey, he leaped on the tango. For a big man he was deadly quick, but his prey was quicker. The rifle discharged, the sound of the bullet slamming into the timber siding of the prison shattered the peace of the night and invited everyone to join the celebrations.

“Time to party ladies.” Ice’s voice reverberated through their ear pieces seconds before two mercs spewed out of the main building, guns blazing. They were no match for Hawk—his rapid fire took them out in quick succession.

Wolf put his shoulder to the door and barged in on the hostages who were huddled together in fright. “Stay down,” he commanded, grabbing the man’s arm and shoving him roughly to the floor for his own safety. The girl leaped to her old man’s aid.

“Do as I say and we might all get out of here alive.” Wolf lifted his Uzi to the ready and peered into the night. Havoc and the merc were going toe to toe. The big fella had left himself wide open and copped an upper cut to the jaw. His head snapped back sending him off balance. He clawed a handful of the tango’s shirt, and they both hurtled to the ground. Havoc flipped him and rolled away, unsheathing the K-bar strapped to his boot. They both shot to their feet. The merc lunged for the throat, the impact knocked Havoc backward, but he double shifted his weight and regained his balance. He came at the other man who saw the cold glint of steel too late. A short upper thrust jab with a twist and it was good night dick.

Havoc resheathed his blade and appeared at the door, his big frame blocking the entrance.

“That took you long enough?” Wolf shouted above the noise.

“You know how I like to dance,” Havoc rumbled. “Hostages okay?” he asked with a swift shift of his gaze.

“Fine and dandy.”

Wolf moved toward the door. The sound of the Black Hawk approaching could be heard in the distance. He checked his watch. ETA was less than three minutes. Time had run out. He pressed his throat mic. “Time’s up boys.”

Ice immediately hollered back his instructions. “Wolf, Havoc, get the civies to the chopper pronto. Hawk, cover their butts. Frosty, take the door with me, the rest of those mother-fuckers will come racing out quicker than rats off a sinking ship,”

Everything happened in a blur after that. Frosty and Ice flew into position as three burly men charged out of the main building single file, rifles blasting. Ice squeezed the trigger, a succession of rapid fire split the night. The first tango was thrown back six feet with the force of the impact; the bullet had ripped out half his throat. Frosty had the next one covered. The third went down like a sack of shit. Wolf thought Ice had only winged him, but the sucker didn’t move. Havoc and he hustled the hostages for the chopper, bullets zinging thick and fast, but Hawk was on the job, watching their backs every step of the way.

“Move miss and don’t look back.” Havoc prodded the girl into action. She didn’t wait for a second invite and took off at a crouching run with the big Aussie hot on her tail. It was hard going for the girl in the dark, the jungle was dense, and the colorless moon that had appeared shed very little light. Havoc guided her with a shouted “Veer left” or “Veer right” when he wanted her to change direction. They were almost there when her cry rent the air, and she went sprawling face first in the dirt. Havoc came up short, just shy of trampling her.

“Shoot, are you hit?” He bellowed with concern.

“No, I turned my ankle.”

“Hold on.” Havoc scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, hardly altering his step as he ran for the chopper. It took all of ninety seconds to reach the bird. Havoc lowered the girl through the opening with care. Wolf and the scientist were half a dozen steps behind. Not breaking stride and silently giving thanks they didn’t have to shimmy up a line, Wolf jumped into the chopper, turned on a dime, and extended his arm to pull the old man up and inside. Havoc followed him in. Time was running out.

*

The sound of gunfire had stopped. Hawk had done his job and taken out the last of the enemy. Frosty and Ice ran from the compound and into the jungle. The chopper was close. Frosty was making time three feet in front of him. They were almost home-free. Ice heard the bullet whiz by, put two and two together, and knew at once the sucker in the compound had been playing possum.

Hawk should already be on his way to the bird. No one was watching their backs. He shot a look over his shoulder—the prick was forty feet behind, rifle raised and ready to fire. He shouted a warning as he leaped, knocking Frosty off his feet, but his reaction was a second too late. He felt the projectile burn as it tore through his body an instant before he passed out.

*

The dull thunk of a bullet ripping through flesh was sickening to hear. Frosty took a moment to catch his breath—the force of the tackle had knocked the wind out of him and saved his life. Staggering to his feet, he gasped for air and recoiled as pain shot through his knee. He must have twisted it in the fall. No time to think on it now, Ice was down. He’d taken the bullet meant for him—he’d heard Ice’s warning a split second before being tackled.

Frosty crawled over and crouched low over his buddy, inspecting the wound. It was bad. There was no way he’d be able to carry Ice out, not with his knee, and not with the bullets still whistling overhead. He pressed the ceramic throat mic. “Havoc, I need you now, Ice is down.”

“Roger that.” The disembodied voice came back.

“Get the hell out of here,” Ice wheezed. Frosty dropped his eyes, a spreading wet patch darkened Ice’s shirt.

“Not without you.” He tried to muscle Ice to his feet. There was no time to argue, every second was crucial.

“Leave me—I’m finished, save your own ass. That’s an order.” Ice’s breath was labored, the struggle to draw air into his lungs was telling.

“Bullshit you’re finished.” Frosty disagreed vehemently, but the chill of fear ripped down his spine as the other man’s eyes slowly shut. This can’t be it. He wouldn’t allow it, not like this. No fucking way. Where the hell was Havoc?

“How bad is it?”

Relief washed over Frosty at the other man’s arrival. “Real bad,” he replied.

“And you?”

“Fucked my knee.”

Havoc hunkered beside Ice, placing two fingers on his neck. “Pulse is weak, but he’s a tough bastard.”

The rat a tat tat of rapid fire from behind had them making a move. “That’s Jacinta.” Frosty acknowledged, “Hawk’s back on the job.”

“You good to go mate?” Havoc asked as he hoisted Ice up in a fireman’s lift. The muffled groan of pain in response was encouraging. Ice was still alive, barely.

“Right behind you, buddy.”

Havoc sprinted for the chopper. Frosty shook his head in awe and hobbled after the big man.

By the time they covered the last hundred yards to safety, Havoc’s back was dark with Ice’s blood. Wolf reached out and helped drag Ice into the belly of the bird, rolling him onto his side as he did. Havoc pivoted, gripped Frosty’s arm and hoisted him up then vaulted in behind him.

Ice didn’t look good. His appearance had taken on a grayish hue. Wolf flipped open the metal lid of the first-aid kit and handed over a wad of bandages.

“Stop the bleeding.”

Frosty unbuttoned Ice’s shirt and pressed the thick wad of gauze against the wound.

“Havoc, get the oxygen mask on him,” Wolf instructed as he filled two syringes, one with penicillin, the other with morphine. “Roll up his sleeve.”

Havoc did as he was told, and Wolf administered the injections grim-faced while he sent up a silent prayer.

“Where’s the kid?” Wolf barked and peered into the night, they were all anxious to get underway.

*

Whipping his head around, Hawk scrutinized the darkness, trying to locate the sniper. The bullet that struck Ice had come from his left.

Then he saw it.

The flash of white light from the undergrowth pinpointed the exact spot where the son of a bitch was hiding. Royally pissed, Hawk snapped another magazine into Jacinta and looked down the cold barrel of steel with grim determination. He had the sucker in his sight. This was one fucker who wouldn’t live to tell the tale.

“Come on baby, this one’s for Ice,” he stroked the smooth underside of his rifle with reverence, took careful aim, and squeezed off a round.

The first bullet found its mark, but he put in another few for good measure. He did a final sweep of the area. Not knowing how bad Ice was hit, he was praying for the best, but fearing the worst, and as he made a run for the chopper, he blamed himself for letting Ice down.

*

The two hostages sat in silence in the belly of the bird shell shocked and scared, but thankful to be going home. Havoc squinted into the night—they were all willing Hawk to appear. “Any sign of him?” Wolf asked as he set up an IV line.

Havoc, shook his head.

Time was crucial. The seconds ticked away like minutes before Hawk finally showed. Havoc leaned down, and with a helping hand, dragged the kid inside.

“How bad?” Hawk panted as the bird lifted and whirled away into the night.

Frosty was busy applying pressure to the wound without a great deal of success. The wad of gauze was soaked red. Wolf didn’t want any of them operating under any false illusions so gave his honest opinion. “It’s going to be touch and go. He’s caught a bullet near the lung, but thank God it missed a main artery otherwise he’d be gone by now.”