Armored

A
R
MORE
D

Copyright © 2013 S.W. Frank

*All Rights Reserved

Paperback Edition

First Printing

Printed by Createspace, USA

S.W. Frank Publishing, U.S.A

ISBN-13: 978-1494755485
 

ISBN-10: 1494755483

No parts of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system in any form without prior written permission of the author. Piracy of the book is a crime. Alfonzo detests thieves and liars, he also believes in Karma. Sometimes it is not laws which govern a person, it is what a person does when nobody watches which is the test of a person’s character and the law of self.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and events portrayed in this story are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Graphic images are for illustrative purposes only.

THE ALFONZO SERIES

♠

ALFONZO: Volume I

ASCENSION: Alfonzo Volume II

ANARCHY: Alfonzo Volume III

ATONEMENT: Alfonzo Volume IV

AWAKENING: Alfonzo Volume V

ANNIHILATION: Alfonzo Volume VI

AFTERMATH: Alfonzo Volume VII

AFFIRMATION: Alfonzo Volume VIII

ASSOCIATES: Alfonzo Volume IX

ANIMUS: Alfonzo Volume X

ADVERSARY: Alfonzo Volume XI

AVARICE: Alfonzo Volume XII

AFFLICTION: Alfonzo Volume XIII

ARMORED: Alfonzo Volume XIV

There is no armor against fate.

James Shirley

Against logic there is no armor like ignorance.

Laurence J. Peter

Fortitude is the marshal of thought, the armor of the will, and the fort of reason.

Francis Bacon

Dedication

To the readers who have stayed the course. To my friends and family who everyday don an armor of love, thank you for your invaluable insight and humor about it all. Have a wonderful holiday everyone. And a special birthday greeting to Darlene.

Umwah!

S.W. Frank

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Glossary

P
rologue

Professional killers are arrogant.

They have a killer swag; a damn-right cold and mesmerizing stroll.

They’re admired by
an opponent and take pride in what they do.

Most
hitmen believe they're the best; it's the elusive ones who usually are.

Anybody who’s
had the misfortune to look a professional in the eye and survive the encounter wasn’t lucky, the assassin didn’t want the person dead –yet.

Hit-men
never advertise their occupation to the public. Not even those in the know really know who's who, but the Big Boss and Underboss often do.

They’re classifications of assassins, the serial killer or psycho
path are in an entirely different category; they’re deranged.

Professionals
aren't insane, they're rather sane in fact, just highly skilled at their craft. Their victims aren’t random, killed in fits of passion or due to psychological impairment. They’re not J.D’s, Helter Skelter or Son’s of Sam. If a hit had been put on any of those guys, law enforcement would have received their suspect in a body bag, minus the many victims from their murderous rampages.

Experts are advanced in hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, survival techniques
and intelligence gathering. They’re physically and mentally superior in kicking ass. The military does okay in teaching basics but good isn’t great, plus the government compensation sucks. If a soldier becomes disgruntled or craves the adrenalin high when his tour ends, freelancing becomes an option. Thus, you have the contractors with money as an incentive, and excitement the natural drug. Then there are paramilitary groups who are organized armed religious fanatics or political rebels, akin to Kamikazes to some degree, they’ll hit a target and sacrifice themselves to do it. But, the crème-de-crème is non-military personnel; the elite assassin or hit-man. He or she often works solo, on occasion in small groups if a job has multiple targets. Every Mafiya has them, loyalty to the family is their pledge and the pay is incidental, but rest assured their salary is a whole lot.

Legends like the Butcher, Vignotti, Seizman and others are what the latest generation aspired to become. They were green and failed to understand, years on the job and surviving the hazards is how one received such distinction. Young people didn’t want to put in the work. Oh, they want a lot of things they haven’t earned. That’s why there are vets and active senior assassins who come out when a job requires their expertise, a person like Nico Serano, the leader smirked and –him.

The hot temperature hadn’t affected the squad leader at all. He worked under worse conditions. Sitting quietly with the younger men, the leader checked his artillery. There was a celebration winding down and he needed to be ready. Another few hours they’d move in on their targets. By then the soon to be deceased were certain to be asleep or have slower reactionary timing due to the copious consumption of liquor.

An inhalation right before dawn appears is when the leader's hand shot up and he signaled the group.

No damn talking.

The young had to learn when to shut the f
uck up.

This wasn't a training exercise; death is final.

He pointed northeast and to the west and specialty boots were on the run. Four fingers went in the air. Men fell in step and then sprint like gazelles over the hot terrain to the main house, the place where another leader slept. The security was disabled; the entry took seconds before he led men up stairs.

A step creaked and booted feet stopped. Ears listened for sounds above, and when none came the figures ascended in a hurried rush. The first door was kicked opened and bullets sprayed the figures lying in the bed, and an execution occurred to every person found alive in the house.

The operation took less time than eating breakfast.

A hand rose in the air and then a fist halted the soldiers in their tracks. The leader cocked his head toward the light beneath a door when they were perched to exit in the rear.

Stone features, marked with battle scars, wrinkled near the mouth slightly frowned. He snarled as he gestured toward the laundry room door. Pairs of combat boots were soft thuds on the wooden floor heading in the direction of the nethermost light. Within seconds muzzle flashes lit up the dark area of the hall. The soldiers that were sent stumbled against the wall with bullet holes in their torso clinging to their armored vests. They went down as more gunfire erupted, crawling out of the way but were struck by more rounds as the shooter unleashed rounds to their heads.

The leader grunted.

A lone Protezione.

He gestured for the soldiers to hold in place. He wanted this fight, ah; he craved a battle with a vet. It was what he lived for. He
crouched as he moved along the base of the wall straight to the door where the shots emitted. A twist of his wrist and the compression of a finger sent bullets inside. He struck someone; it’s a familiar sound when someone falls. A quick peek inside brought a sinister smile of glee as the guy struggled to his feet with streaks of blood running along his leg and arm. He had dropped his weapon. The leader of the intruders was in the room before he could retrieve it, and kicked the weapon out of his reach.

“You will not need that,” the Leader said, circling around to the front of the man. The smugness of someone experienced dissolved when he came face-to-face with a youth with mahogany skin and eyes so blue, he resembled a panther glaring from trees during a nocturnal safari.

The youth rose to his full height. Impressive was the stature of a teen clad in only dark briefs. It was evident the boy exited the bed at the sound of intruders and sought to defend his house. The leader lifted his arm to shoot but swifter limbs dislodged the gun from his hands. It is then the Leader recognized the young can be apt pupils. The youth fought with such ferocity, a blow to the Leader’s throat and another to his ribs actually brought pain. Even with injuries the boy’s stance was firm, forceful kicks and knee shots to the groin may have inflicted more damage except the attacker’s wounds lessened the impact.