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Virgin Bride(112)

By:B. B. Hamel


I watch him as he reasons that out. He probably doesn’t think all this subterfuge is necessary, which is good. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, which is even better. He probably thinks I’m just some regular guy.

“We meet them in the desert, not much farther. We give them money, they leave, we leave. That’s plan.”

I sigh. “Okay, boss. Sure. Sounds good.” We drive in silence for a few more minutes. “So tell me, you’re ex-military, right?”

He glances at me. “Maybe,” he says.

“Spetsnaz?”

His eyes narrow. “Could be.”

“Which branch?”

“The fuck you care?”

I just shrug and look out the window. “Just making small talk. Those guys back there aren’t much to talk to.”

“Their English is bad.”

“No kidding.” I look back at Mikhail. “Come on, now. You intelligence? Paratrooper? Some shit like that?”

“Chechen,” he says. “Vostok.”

I blink, surprised. I know what that is, though he probably didn’t think I’d recognize it. The Vostok is an elite branch of the Russian military and a special Chechen force. They’re known to be particularly fucking brutal and dangerous.

I underestimated Mikhail, and I’m glad I asked him. Now I know who and what he is, but I still have the advantage. He doesn’t know what I’m capable of.

We crest a nearby ridge and begin down the far side. Ahead, there’s a small outcropping of cactuses and Mikhail heads over toward it.

“That’s spot,” he says.

“Did you fight in Chechnya?” I ask him.

“Of course.”

“See much action?”

“In Chechnya, back then, everything was action.”

I nod and watch his face. I pegged him at an old thirty, but now I see that he’s more like a fit fifty. That makes sense, since the main thrust of the Chechnya conflict happened in the nineties.

It also means I’m a little more than half his age, which is another advantage. No matter how hard and grizzled a man may be, he still loses something with age, and I can exploit that.

The two guys in the back are probably just locals. I doubt they have any real experience with this sort of thing. In fact, they both look nervous, although they’re trying to hide it behind their lack of English. If they stay silent, they can’t betray their weakness.

But that’s okay. It’s not them I’m worried about. It’s Mikhail.

We pull up next to the cactus cluster and Mikhail kills the engine.

“Where’s the cartel?” I ask him.

“Close,” he says. “We’re early.”

“Should I get the money ready?”

He pauses then nods. “Yes, good. Get money ready.”

I open the door, sliding my gun into the front of my jeans in one fluid motion. Nobody notices and I make sure my shirt falls in front of it, covering it from view.

“You two, with him,” Mikhail says.

The two guys climb out of the back. My heart is pounding in my chest as Mikhail’s door opens as well. The man behind me steps close as I go toward the back of the car.

No time to lose. I might be wrong about this, but it doesn’t matter.

I pull my gun and turn, dropping to one knee. I put a bullet in the chin of the man behind me. It bursts through his skull and splatters his brain all over the car.

The other Mexican guard opens fire, tearing up the truck. I dive forward, rolling out of the line of fire.

“Stop!” Mikhail screams. “Hold your fucking fire.”

I come up and aim, squeezing off two shots. They tear through the windows of the truck and catch the guard in the head. He goes down with a thud.

Two down, just Mikhail to go. He’s staying down under the windows, out of sight, which is smart. I’m doing the same as I creep around the truck.

“You’re no ordinary man,” Mikhail calls out. “Who are you?”

“I’m like you, actually,” I say.

“Special Forces?” he asks.

“Navy SEAL, actually.”

He laughs, and now I know that he’s near the back left part of the truck.

“How did you get so close?”

“I was hired to take you guys down.”

“Better men than you have tried.”

“I doubt that.”

I drop to my stomach and fire my gun. I squeeze off three shots and one manages to clip his ankle. He grunts and starts running for the cluster of cactuses.

I fire after him, but the bullets move wide. I follow, aiming and firing, careful to keep him pinned down so he can’t turn and shoot back. He disappears into the cluster, out of sight.

I move into the cluster, staying low and moving slow. It’s tight, but there’s enough room to maneuver. The cactuses are tall, about seven feet, and very thick with long pointy spines all over them. They look like cartoons, but they’re very dangerous.