Blowback, p.9
Blowback, page 9
part #2 of Bear Logan Series
Everyone looked up when Bear walked through the door. One moment, all was still. He looked at them and they stared right back, faces frozen in shock or confusion. The next moment everyone was yelling and chairs were being knocked over and skidding across the room.
The man in the burgundy suit threw the woman off his lap and took off into the next room, his two bodyguards in tow. That left the four card players for Bear to deal with.
The man sitting closest to him on his right threw a solid glass ashtray at Bear’s hand. It smacked just above the knuckle of his middle finger, causing his hand to flex open and knocking his 9mm to the ground.
The man on Bear’s left jumped from his chair and swung it at Bear’s head. It splintered into several pieces and knocked Bear off balance long enough for the man to grab the other gun and wrench it from Bear’s hand. It clattered to the ground and slid under the table.
Bear felt panic rising in his throat at the fact that he had been disarmed so quickly, but when he looked around, he noticed none of the men had weapons in their hands or at their hips. They took flying under the radar seriously.
There was no time to collect his thoughts further than that. The man who had thrown the ashtray kicked and knocked Bear down to one knee while the other attempted to pin his arm behind his back. Bear might have lost the advantage along with both his pistols, but he was by no means helpless. And he was at least twice as big as the rest of the men in the room.
With a grunt Bear wrenched his arm free from the second man and struck him in the chest with his other hand so hard the man’s feet left the ground. The guy hit the floor and slid into the wall headfirst.
Bear leaned back and out of the way as the first man swung at him. Bear’s hand landed on the ashtray, which was somehow still in one piece. He grabbed it and swung it as hard as he could at the first man’s head. It shattered as blood erupted from the long gash in the man’s forehead. The guy dropped to his knees and fell backward.
Bear got to his feet just as the remaining two men launched themselves at him. They looked like twins, and their moves mirrored each other in a way that could only happen if you trained with another person day in and day out. When one punched, the other kicked. It was a barrage of blows that forced Bear outside and onto the porch. He could feel bruises erupting on his forearms and legs as he tried to block as many hits as he could. He absorbed each blow and waited for his chance.
One of the brothers made the mistake of kicking too high. Bear let the hit land against his ribs, ignoring the pain long enough to grab the man’s leg and twist it painfully out of the socket, eliciting a sharp scream. Bear didn’t wait for the man to gain his wherewithal. He picked him up and swung him around, tossing him through the bannister and into the front yard.
The other opponent didn’t stop long enough to check whether his brother was still alive, but Bear could feel the anger in his furious blows. The coordination was gone from his attack. Bear gained control of the guy’s dominant arm and then it was over. He threw a haymaker at the other man’s head that connected right at his temple. The second brother dropped and remained down.
Bear felt the effects of the fight, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He marched back through the door, expecting to be met with the next round of fighters.
Instead, he found an empty room except for the woman the man in the burgundy suit had thrown to the floor. She was still shaking and crying, covering her head with her hands and mumbling to herself.
There was something else missing from the room. The man Bear had punched in the chest had recovered and dragged his friend into the next room, taking Bear’s pistols with him. So far they had tried to keep things quiet, but Bear wasn’t about to let his guard down. A little bit of trouble with the neighbors would be worth it if it meant he made it out of this alive.
There was no doubt a stash of weapons was kept somewhere in the house, even if it was locked up to dissuade anyone from using them after a bad round of cards. Bear just had to make sure he got to them before the others did.
He crept low along one side of the table until he reached the woman on the floor. He waited between sobs before gently shaking her arm.
“How many more are in the house?”
The woman cried harder.
“Lady, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to know how many more are in the house.”
But it was no use. Her hysterics got loud enough that Bear backed away. He could handle four guys coming at him in a fight without a problem. But a crying woman? He found no shame in a quick retreat.
He kept to the wall as he snuck around the room toward the doorway. He had seen the man in burgundy run through there. A smeared blood trail led across the threshold. On the other side was a shiny black boot, heel up. A liability left to bleed out on the floor.
Whimpers came next room. The creak of a floorboard told him the group he was after had moved upstairs. There were at least four men left in the house, and who knows how many women. So far not a single gunshot had been fired. That wouldn’t last long.
Bear leaned forward far enough to see into the next room and then straightened up again. His eyes took in the entire room in those few seconds. Two sofas, an armchair, a TV that was on but muted. Three women huddled behind the couch on the far side of the room, their wine glasses still half full on the coffee table. The man whose head Bear had bashed lay dead on the ground near the couch.
Bear took a step into the room, ignoring the gasps and cries from the women hiding on the other side. He searched the body of the dead man and came away with a switchblade. It wasn’t much, but it was better than his fists alone.
He surveyed the room one last time to clear it, and then started to move up the stairs, keeping to the edges to make sure his approach was silent. He could hear muffled voices and the soft shuffle of feet above him, but he couldn’t yet pinpoint their location. He had lost the element of surprise and they had gained the high ground. It had happened in such a short amount of time. Maybe he was slipping.
As soon as he hit the first landing, he heard the whir of a knife coming straight for his head. He ducked to the right before it landed with a thud and a wobble, buried up to the hilt in drywall. When he looked up, the man he had punched in the chest was standing at the top of the stairs, breathing heavily and bleeding from the side of his face.
Bear didn’t hesitate. He yanked the knife out of the wall and drove himself upward. The other man only had time to turn and take a single step before Bear buried the knife in the back of his neck. He fell to his knees with a gurgle and a choke, then landed on his face. His body writhed for a few seconds then went still as blood soaked the carpet.
A door closed to the right. The man in the burgundy suit and his bodyguards.
Bear pulled the knife from the back of the dead man’s neck and wiped it clean on the once-pristine suit. He tucked the switchblade in his pocket. The dead man’s survival knife would make for a much better weapon. Bear still hadn’t located his two guns. That was a problem. He presumed the bodyguards had a hold on them.
The hallway contained three doors. The first was open and led to the bathroom. Light beamed off the white floor. The other two doors were closed and neither had any light shining out from underneath the frame. Bear crept up to the first one and listened. Inside, three people were breathing heavily and whispering in another language.
Bear stood to the side and then reached over and knocked on the door. The whispers cut off, but no one fired a shot. That meant they were still on the defensive. Unless he had a knife to their boss’s throat, they wouldn’t aim a gun at him.
Bear squared up with the door and this time kicked it off its hinges. The room was filled with two couches and a bed, a small TV, and a wooden dresser. The man in the burgundy suit was crouched down behind the couch on the far side. One of his bodyguards stood in front of him. The other was waiting for Bear as soon as he crossed the threshold.
The first bodyguard threw a punch that connected with Bear’s jaw. A kick came next, but Bear had already regained his balance. He grabbed the man’s leg and plunged the knife into his thigh. It was met with an angry scream. The bodyguard attempted to grab hold of Bear’s head and plunge his thumb into his eye sockets, but Bear’s knife was out of the guy’s leg and inside his skull before any real damage could be done.
Bear heard the click of the hammer from the other end of the room and reacted instinctively. He moved the first bodyguard’s body in between himself and the other men. Three shots were fired and Bear felt each one land center mass and he stalked across the room with his human shield. When he was nearly face to face with the last remaining bodyguard, Bear shoved the first man at him and sent them both to the ground. He didn’t give the second man a chance to beg for his life before he retrieved his 9mm and put a bullet in the guy’s head.
“And then there was one.”
Bear turned to the man in the burgundy suit. When Bear had first spotted him walking up to the house, he thought the man was going to be the biggest badass of them all strutting around in his tailored suit and shiny shoes. But now he whimpered in the corner with his head tucked between his legs.
“Pathetic.”
“Please,” the man begged. “Please don’t kill me.”
“That’s entirely up to you, man.” Bear hauled the guy to his feet. The man swayed for a second before finding his balance. “What’s your name?”
“W-Wong.” There was snot running down his face. “My name is Wong.”
“I’ve killed six of your men so far. Who else is here?”
“That’s all of them,” he stammered. “All the men I had with me.”
“You’re sure?” Bear pressed the barrel of the gun to Wong’s neck. It was still hot. Not the smartest move, but this guy wouldn’t do anything. Wong cried out as smoke rose from his skin. “You wouldn’t happen to be lying to me, would you?”
“N-no. That was e-everyone. I swear. I swear!”
“Good man.” Bear removed the barrel from Wong’s neck. “I’m here to retrieve a package and I could use your help finding it.”
Wong nodded his head emphatically. “Please, just don’t kill me.”
“Don’t piss me off and you’re free to live.” Bear dragged Wong out into the hallway, then pointed at the last remaining door. “What’s in there?”
“N-nothing.” Wong seemed to think better of lying and before Bear could threaten him again, said, “Merchandise. That’s it.”
“Well, that happens to be where my package is. Northeast bedroom on the second floor.” Bear pushed Wong ahead of him until they reached the end of the hallway. “Open the door.”
Wong swallowed audibly but didn’t hesitate. Bear was expecting him to wet himself at any moment. Instead, Wong retrieved a key and put a hand on the doorknob and turned it. The door creaked open wide.
Bear pushed Wong forward with the barrel of the gun. “Go on. Walk inside. I wanna make sure there are no surprises.”
This time Wong did hesitate. At least until Bear moved the gun from the middle of his back to the back of his head. And then Wong marched right into the middle of the room.
Bear followed slowly. He heard a slight whimper, but he couldn’t tell if it was Wong or someone else. The rest of the house was silent. He couldn’t even hear the women crying downstairs anymore. He hoped they had gotten the hell out while they still could. Who knew if they would take the brunt of punishment for what had happened here tonight?
Bear walked up behind Wong and pushed him down to his knees. The other man automatically raised his arms in surrender, but Bear wasn’t paying attention. The room was spartan except for what lay in the middle of it. When Bear had first walked in, Wong had been blocking his view. But he could see it clear as day now.
The package wasn’t an envelope or a briefcase or a box.
It was a girl.
Chapter Seventeen
The young woman was curled up on the ground in the middle of the room. She was thin and ragged looking, her blonde hair covering her face like a greasy blanket. She wore a dress that must’ve been white at one point, but was now covered in blood and dirt. The sharp scent of her unwashed body attacked Bear’s nose.
He gazed down at Wong, who was looking everywhere but at the girl. Bear’s voice cut through the silence. “Who is she?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t know her name.”
Bear stepped around Wong, careful not to tread on the girl. When he was face to face with the man, he pointed the 9mm between the guy’s eyes. “You said this room was full of merchandise.”
“It’s not me, I swear.” Tears ran down Wong’s face. “I have a boss. I’ll tell you his name. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“I warned you not to piss me off. You didn’t keep up your end of the bargain.”
Bear didn’t bother waiting for Wong to come up with more excuses. He pulled the trigger and sent Wong to hell with a single bullet. The ringing in his ears gave way to approaching sirens. The neighbors had finally caught on to the commotion happening in their cozy little community.
He brushed the girl’s hair aside to look at her face. She was young, maybe still a teenager. Her eyes were open but glazed over. She was drooling out of one side of her mouth. Drugged.
“Are you injured?” Bear didn’t expect a response, but if she could hear him, he wanted her to know that he was there to help. “I’m just going to check if anything is broken. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”
He waited another few seconds before reaching out and feeling each arm, each leg, and then the back of her head and down her spine. Other than a few bruises and light abrasions, she seemed fine, though he wasn’t sure there weren’t any internal issues he couldn’t see. The drugs were keeping her numb enough that any pain wouldn’t be bothering her now, but that didn’t mean transporting her wouldn’t cause additional issues down the line.
As the sirens grew louder he knew he couldn’t stay any longer. And he wasn’t about to leave her on her own, not knowing if the cops that found her were the kind that would help her. If what Cheung told him was true, this organization was well-connected, and that undoubtedly meant they had at least a handful of cops on their side.
Bear scooped the girl up in his arms, trying not to let her head flop around too much. She couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, but she somehow felt even lighter than that.
Like she was hollow.
When was the last time she’d had a decent meal? How long ago had she been taken? Beyond the drugging, what had they done to her?
That same surge of white-hot anger that had caused him to pull the trigger on Wong washed over him. He wasn’t just angry with the man who was now dead at his feet, but everyone who had led him to this moment, standing there with an unconscious girl in his arms. Had Cheung known what kind of package he had sent Bear to retrieve?
Had Thorne?
Bear took the stairs slowly, careful not to bump the girl on the wall or the railing on the way down. The first floor was deserted. The girls had run. Maybe they called the cops on the way out. Had they known what was upstairs? Were they part of the problem or were they just trying to avoid the same fate?
Walking out the front door was a death sentence. If the cops didn’t catch him, he’d be spotted by the neighbors. Instead he headed through the back and into the kitchen. According to the blueprints Cheung had shown him, there was a back door that led to the next street over. Bear could circle around and hopefully be back in the rental car by the time the cops pulled up to the house.
He was halfway across the kitchen when he spotted an open laptop and a stack of file folders. Bear didn’t know exactly what was going on with Wong and the girl and the organization at large, but he knew an operation when he saw one. She was just the tip of the iceberg, and he couldn’t walk away in good conscience without uncovering what was under the surface.
He shifted the girl higher in his arms and snapped the laptop shut, grabbed the folders, and tucked both under his arm before kicking open the back door and walking out into the humid night air. The smell of the neighbor’s dinner lingered in the alley. The sirens were closing in. Getting closer. Getting louder. Blue lights bouncing off the underside of tall trees.
After everything he’d gone through that night, the weight of the girl’s small frame started to take its toll. Halfway down the block he stopped for a moment. He gently lowered her to the ground, tossed the laptop and files next to her, and stretched his arms, all while keeping his head on a swivel.
Ten seconds hadn’t passed when the first cop car zipped by. It wasn’t the typical black-and-white he was used to, but the sirens were a dead giveaway. The girl’s white dress glowed in the dark despite how dirty it was. He’d avoided the pools of light cast down from the evenly spaced street lamps, but it might not matter. Anyone looking for someone in the shadows would be able to spot them.
Two more cop cars passed before there was a break. He could hear shouting coming from the direction of the house. Windows all around him lit up. Bear took that as his cue to run.
He scooped up the girl and the information he had retrieved from the house and gritted his teeth against the strain on his muscles. He avoided flat out sprinting. It might jostle her neck too much. But his pace was brisk enough that it only took a few more minutes before he was standing next to his car. Damn fine decision to move it to the other end of the street. He’d even had the forethought of turning the lights out so when he got back in the car, he wouldn’t be spotted.
Bear pulled the back door open and laid the girl across the seat. He placed the computer and file folders on the floor near her. The door clicked shut and sounded like a rifle blast in the still air.
Bear opened his own door and slid behind the wheel. The engine sounded like it belonged to a fighter jet when it turned over. No one turned in his direction, but Bear wasn’t going to take any chances. With one hand still holding his door shut, he put the car in drive and slowly pulled away from the curb, doing a quick U-turn to avoid having to drive past the house.
