A Red Dotted Line (Mike Walton Book 2) Page 27

  “On my authority,” he heard Ari say. “Three, two—”

  CHAPTER 69

  Mykonos, Greece

  Ray Powell opened his eyes with a jolt. One of his Russian captors was bent over him. He had his pistol in one hand while the other was shaking him. The Russian’s eyes weren’t on him, though. They were looking toward the door. Acting on instinct and out of anger, Powell punched the man in the head. The Russian fell to one knee, clearly stunned by the sudden strike.

  The door of the room opened and Powell watched as Igor barged in and shot his man twice. The Russian dropped to the floor, moaning in pain. He tried to reach the pistol he had dropped but Igor was already on him and kicked the gun away.

  “Who’s coming, you piece of shit?” Igor screamed.

  Powell was puzzled. Why were they turning on each other? He had never seen Igor upset. He’d always been so calm and collected. Why was he acting so erratically?

  Suddenly, a series of shot rang out. When Igor turned toward the sound of gunfire, Powell knew it was now or never. He jumped out of bed and lunged at Igor who was standing less than five feet away. But the tranquilizer drug slowed him down and Igor easily ducked under his left hook. The Russian counter-punched him in the solar plexus and brought down the butt of his pistol between his shoulder blades. Powell crashed to the floor, struggling for breath. He raised his head in time to see Igor aim his pistol at his head.

  He had already started to pull the trigger when the Sheik rushed into the room and screamed at Igor to stop.

  CHAPTER 70

  Mykonos, Greece

  The Sheik was furious. They were under attack and his son was about to kill the only man who could guarantee the virus would reach American soil, instead of fighting the assailants. And what about his man writhing on the floor? Had he shot him too?

  “What are you doing?” he yelled. “We need Powell. Join your men and fight!”

  Igor turned to face him. His son’s eyes were clouded by hate and resentment. He had never seen him like that. What had Ray Powell said to anger his son so much?

  “How could you do that?” his son roared, advancing toward him.

  “Calm down, Igor,” the Sheik pleaded. “We have to go. Now.”

  That seemed to push his son over the top. “You killed my mother, you fuck,” Igor said, aiming his pistol at the Sheik’s head with one hand.

  His heart twisted in pain as he realized that his son knew the truth. How could he? Then it came to him. Vienamin Simonich. The Russian president had played him. Like a fool. The bastard. He had turned the last of his family members against him. Simonich would pay dearly for this. Nobody insulted him and lived to tell about it. It wouldn’t be different for Simonich. But first he had to defuse this situation.

  “This isn’t the truth, son,” the Sheik said, making sure his tone of voice wasn’t threatening. “Simonich lied to you, just like he lied to me.”

  “I saw you do it, you pathetic liar, I saw you do it,” his son hissed, showing him the phone in his other hand. His eyes had gone wild. “Simonich recorded the whole fucking thing, you sick bastard. How could you do this? How could you betray your own family?”

  They were losing way too much time arguing. This operation was falling apart. They had to get out of the house now and leave Ray Powell behind. But what about Powell’s daughter-in-law?

  “Hey! I’m talking to you.” Igor’s voice brought him back.

  The Sheik looked at his son. “I did what I had to in order to win, Igor. Just like you did when you killed your own brother.”

  His son shook his head in disgust but held the pistol steadily toward him. “I trusted you,” he murmured.

  If Simonich had really recorded the ordeal, he’d never be able to get his son back. Not after he had watched him murder his mother. There was only one way out of this.

  The Sheik looked at Ray Powell and yelled to his son, “Watch out!”

  As his son turned around to face what he thought was an incoming threat, the Sheik raised his small Kel-Tec P32 and shot his last family member in the head.

  ........

  Ray Powell knew this crisis was coming to an end. The firefight outside the room had intensified. People were coming. But time was running out. The Russian soldier Igor had shot was still alive and was slowly crawling toward his gun while a trail of blood followed his progress. Then Powell saw the Sheik raise a small pistol to Igor’s head and fire at point blank range. He fired three more times. He then turned the pistol toward Lisa who was still lying on the bed. Using the last of his energy, Powell got to his feet and jumped on top of Lisa a millisecond before the Sheik fired.

  Powell’s body jerked once. There was a sharp pain in his back, then nothing. It was weird, really. As if he was having an out-of-body experience. Lisa was watching him. She was screaming his name. For some reason, he couldn’t move his legs and felt himself slide off the bed and onto the floor. Then he heard another gun go off. It had a different sound than the pistol the Sheik had been using. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Sheik disappear into the hallway.

  Breathing was more difficult now. His thoughts were with Lisa. He hoped she was okay.

  CHAPTER 71

  Mykonos, Greece

  Mike Walton was the first in and saw a man running up the steps in front of him with a jerry can. He opened fire just as he was struck twice in his side and knocked off his feet. Zima fired her MP5 as two more rounds lodged into the wall inches from her head.

  Fuuuuck! He had committed the ultimate sin. He hadn’t cleared his corner coming in. His mistake had nearly cost him and Zima their lives.

  “You’re okay?” Zima asked, scanning left and right.

  “I fucked up,” he replied. The bullets had hit his vest. One of them had smacked into his combat knife while the other had struck one of his spare magazines.

  The sound of a silenced MP5 came from the living room.

  “One tango down in the kitchen,” Ari said. “Four left.”

  “We got one more in the foyer,” Zima said. “Three left.”

  “Copy that,” Ari said. “Living room, dining room, kitchen and half-bath cleared. Coming in.”

  Ari joined them in the foyer and saw the pain in Mike’s eyes. “You’re good?”

  Mike nodded. His pride had taken a hit. “Follow me,” he said, heading up the stairs. “Let’s get these bastards.”

  CHAPTER 72

  Mykonos, Greece

  Igor Votyakov pressed his hand against in his head. The amount of blood pouring out of his wound was scary. He couldn’t believe his father had shot him. He tried to get up but only managed to get up on one knee. He was dizzy and his vision was blurred. His chest hurt too, and when he looked down he realized he’d been shot another three times in his upper body. His vest had stopped the bullets but it still hurt like hell.

  Behind him, Grigory lay motionless on the hardwood floor, though his chest was still heaving. Somehow, Grigory had managed to retrieve his pistol. Igor searched for his own weapon but grabbed Grigory’s when he didn’t immediately find his.

  “Looking for this?”

  Igor turned around and looked in disbelief at the woman standing in front of him. She was holding his pistol in her hands. He sighed loudly. The bitch.

  He had time to curse his father one more time before she pulled the trigger.

  ........

  Lisa watched in satisfaction as the Russian’s hands shot up to his neck. Her target fell to his knees, blood escaping from between his fingers. His eyes showed confusion, and she watched him die. Gunfire close to her made her jump.

  Ray Powell yelled a warning but it was too late. By the time she started pivoting, the Sheik was already on her. He punched her hard on the head and she collapsed. She felt his hands on her ankles as he dragged her back to the bed. He lifted her up and laid her on top of
the mattress. A loud explosion shook the entire floor but the Sheik didn’t pay any attention. She raised her head but he punched her again. And again. She tasted blood, and the throbbing in her mouth told her that the last punch had broken her jaw. Then he poured something on her. The pungent smell hit her first. Gasoline.

  The Sheik move closer to Ray Powell and splashed some gasoline on him too. “I hate you,” he said. He reached for something in his pocket and her heart sank. She knew what he was looking for. In desperation, she screamed.

  CHAPTER 73

  Mykonos, Greece

  If Mike were to trust the blueprints the team had studied back in Tel Aviv, the second floor had two bedrooms on the left and another two on the right. With two tangos plus the Sheik left, they had to be careful. The element of surprise was long gone and three bad guys were more than enough to screw them all over.

  Mike had just set foot on the last step when he heard a single gunshot coming from one of the bedrooms on the right. The shot hadn’t been directed at them so either his dad or the other hostage was in trouble. Or the Israeli deep cover is taking numbers.

  Whatever it was, Mike had no choice. He had to go right. He cleared the corner, knowing Ari would go left to cover the other side of the corridor while Zima would follow him. He hadn’t reached the first bedroom before someone opened fire from behind them. Bullets zipped past him and smacked against the wall at the other end. By the time Mike spun around, Ari was on his side firing his MP5.

  “I’m hit,” Ari screamed as he continued firing his weapon.

  “Zima, stay put,” Mike ordered, while moving closer to Ari. He took a knee next to the Israeli.

  “Last bedroom to the right,” Ari said, changing magazines.

  Mike brought his weapon up and kept it tight against his shoulder while using his right hand to prep a stun grenade. When he was three feet away from the bedroom door, he threw the grenade in.

  The detonation shook the entire floor and Mike moved in, scanning the room with the muzzle of his UMP45. There was another door in the far right corner. The en suite. Mike fired through the wall, hoping to catch whoever was hiding by surprise. He fired two-round bursts, moving right to left. While firing, Mike continued to advance toward the en suite. He was ten feet away when a frag grenade dropped at his feet and the door of the en suite closed.

  The world stopped. His heart caught in his throat when he realized he had no cover. Mike acted on instinct and rushed to the en suite, ramming its wooden door with his shoulder. The door split open and Mike barged in. For the briefest moment, he made eye contact with the bewildered Russian hiding in the shower. He hit the floor just as the grenade went off, scattering shrapnel around the bedroom. He rolled to his side and transitioned to his Glock. The Russian had just started to raise the muzzle of his submachine gun when Mike fired the Glock in quick succession, hitting him multiple times in the upper body. Once the Russian was down, Mike took half a second to aim his last shot. His round hit the Russian half an inch above his nose.

  Mike rose painfully and assessed himself for injuries. Two of his ribs were on fire but that was from downstairs. He inserted a fresh magazine into his pistol and replaced it in its holster.

  “Coming out,” he said to Zima and Ari to let them know he was exiting the bedroom and that it would be appreciated if they didn’t shoot at him.

  “Two left,” he told them, showing them two fingers. Ari’s right arm was covered in blood. “You’re good?” Mike asked him.

  “Bullet went through my bicep. I’ll patch it later.”

  Mike nodded. “Let’s go.”

  They had been on the second floor for just over thirty seconds now. Too long. Mike pushed forward and Zima followed him while Ari took the rear. Mike heard someone scream. A woman. It came from the last bedroom. They were running out of time.

  Going against everything he had learned in the past, Mike bypassed the next bedroom and headed directly to the last one where he had heard the scream. A strong odor of gasoline emerged from that room. The door was open and Mike made the turn. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

  Two bodies were on the floor; one had a green bandana attached to his arm. The other, from which most of the blood seemed to come, lay motionless on his back. Worse yet, Lisa lay on the bed and was soaked in gasoline. And last, his father was crawling around the bed using only his elbows, his hair drenched with the same gasoline.

  Standing in the middle of this mess was the Sheik. He was pulling a gold Zippo lighter out of his pocket. Knowing a gunshot could potentially ignite the whole room, Mike let go of his UMP45 and darted across the room and over the bed. He crashed into the Sheik and the Zippo slid across the floor. Both men rolled. Still attached by a strap across his shoulder, Mike’s UMP45 dug into his already tender ribs and he yelled in pain. He jumped on the Sheik as he was trying to reach for the Zippo. He flipped the Sheik to his back and effortlessly blocked his weak attempt at a punch. Mike kneed him in the groin with such force that one of his testicles exploded. Mike did it again, and the Sheik’s eyes rolled up into his head. But Mike wasn’t done. In a fit of rage, he grabbed the Sheik by the collar of his shirt and by his belt and lifted him into the air. He then threw him against the wall. The Sheik crashed to the floor. He tried to raise his head but Mike kicked it like a soccer ball during a penalty. Mike heard something crack and the Sheik went limp. Mike watched him for a few seconds. He was still breathing.

  CHAPTER 74

  Mykonos, Greece

  Lisa Walton felt the strong arms of her husband around her. She touched his face. He was crying and saying mostly unintelligible things. She put her fingers on his lips. “Your dad,” she whispered. “He saved my life.”

  ........

  Zima was next to Ray Powell holding his hand. Mike glanced at his dad. He kissed his wife on her forehead and went to kneel next to his dad. Blood poured from under him. It really looked bad. Zima left him alone with his father and went to handcuff the Sheik.

  Mike shook his head in disbelief. It had been two and a half years since his father’s capture at the hands of the Sheik. That was a hell of a long time to be in captivity. He took his father’s hand in his own.

  ........

  Ray Powell’s eyes lit up at the sight of his son. He would have given everything to see him again. It looked as if he had been granted his miracle. He was so proud of his son. Unfortunately, he also knew this was the end of the road for him. At least one bullet had lodged in his spine. His pain was great but he didn’t want his son to remember him being in agony, so he did his best to look serene. But by the look on his son’s face, he knew the situation was dire.

  “I thought you were dead,” he said to his son.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” Mike replied. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’ve been looking for you. I never stopped. I’ve—”

  “I’m just so happy to see you, Mike,” he said as tears welled up in his eyes. “But you have to go now.”

  “No, dad, we’ll bring you with us.”

  “You can’t do that. I’ve been infected. That’s what the Sheik wanted all along.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lisa told me what the Sheik did to me while I was out,” he explained. It was important that his son understood that he couldn’t be moved anywhere, even as a corpse, until personnel properly trained in hazardous substances showed up. “The Sheik injected me with a new thread of the Marburg virus.”

  ........

  Mike understood. “Fuck!”

  Then Eitan came on the radio. “Two police cars are approaching. They’re three to four minutes away. You guys need to go.”

  “Assault team copy,” Mike replied.

  His father’s hand touched his leg. “I still can’t believe you’re alive, Mike,” his dad said weakly. “The Sheik . . . The Sheik, he showed me newspapers. He told me you were dead
.”

  “No, Dad,” he said. “I’m here.”

  “Your mom?”

  “She’s alive and well, Dad,” Mike lied. It broke his heart to do so, but his dad didn’t need to know the truth. “All lies, Dad. Just a bunch of lies to break you.”

  His father suddenly started to shake uncontrollably. “Dad? Dad?”

  His dad squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad. Keep fighting.”

  “I’m proud of you. Thanks for . . . Thanks . . .” His father’s eyes closed gently.

  Mike checked for a pulse. There was none. He started CPR but on the first chest compression, a ridiculous amount of blood came out of his father’s mouth. It was over.

  Fuck! I didn’t even thank him for saving Lisa’s life . . .

  Ari tapped on his shoulder. “We need to go, Mike. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Mike took one last look at his father and swore that one day he’d bring back his body to Canada, so he could lay him to rest next to his wife and grandchildren. “I’ll come back for you, Dad. I promise.”

  Mike carefully picked up his wife from the bed.

  “I’ve got you, Lisa.”

  His wife was obviously in great pain, but she didn’t make a sound. Even with an injured arm, Ari was able to put the Sheik on his shoulder. Zima led the way to the HiAce while Mike silently prayed for it to start. With the number of bullets that had flown in its vicinity, he wouldn’t be surprised if a couple of rounds had found their way to the engine block.

  Eitan was already waiting at the HiAce. “We’ll have a few minutes extra,” he said, climbing in the back. “I’ve disabled the two police cars.”

  “Was that a good idea?” Ari asked. “They’ll close the airport.”

  “They would have closed it anyway,” Zima said, coming to Eitan’s defense.