Blue Moon II ~ This is Reality (22 page)

Hawk couldn’t hear the exchange but he could see frowns on the faces of the Agents.

“Call!” Hawk hissed.

“They’re demanding to see Mrs. Valenzo first. Agent Carter is demanding to see the twenty-five abducted women first.” Call was quiet for a moment, then: “Shit, shit, shit, pull back, pull back! Take cover!” Call yelled out.

Hawk saw more Hummers barreling around the corner. Guns aimed at his team.
Fuck
! Hawk squeezed on his trigger, firing his .50Cal in sync with Shot’s. They fired into the approaching Hummers but it was taking too many bullets to pierce through the bulletproof windows. The first vehicle flipped onto its side. Shot was onto the next vehicle.

Shade, Lucky, and Toad were already behind crates firing at the Russians as they swarmed the dock. They were vastly outnumbered as more vehicles flew up the dock toward them. The Russians were using the vehicles as shields while they pinned the Beastmasters into corners.

Hawk and Shot were able to keep the men from closing in but they were beginning to take incoming fire themselves. Hawk ducked down behind the concrete barrier as bullets whizzed by him. “Shit. Call! Radio the backup!” Hawk yelled over the roaring of the battle.

Call’s voice could be heard as he radioed in for the emergency team. “We’re going in. Pierce, keep communication open.”

Hawk heard Call’s order and didn’t like it at all. He and Viper were already exiting the back of the truck and opening fire on the backs of the Russians that were trying to close in on the rest of the team. Hawk continued to fire down onto the docks. He saw multiple men entering the building that Shot was on.

“Shot, you have multiples coming up,” Hawk notified and took out three of the men before they were able to get in the door. “You got three coming up on the north side.”

“Roger that,” Shot answered.

Call, Viper and Toad were boxed in and the Russians were pulling out more artillery. “Fuck! Where the hell is the emergency team?” Hawk yelled.

“Ten minutes out,” Pierce answered him.

“Bullshit. This’ll be over in less than five.”

Hawk saw six more Russians run toward his building. Now six Russians had fallen to their death. Hawk took incoming fire from the ground. Ducked and covered his head as pieces of concrete flew around him. He could hear Shot’s gun still firing and he rose up to take aim again. The wind picked up off the water and blew the scent of death across him. That’s a smell you never get used to. His thoughts went to Pierce. He took aim and cursed. Still no DEA, still no FBI. They were in the middle of goddamn gang war and they were severely outnumbered and out-gunned. More Russians were scurrying along the wall, staying close to the building so he couldn’t get a good shot at them. Opened the door and were inside. Footsteps trampling up the stairs. Hawk looked over to Shot’s building; more were going in as Shot continued to cover the team. It was like they were reproducing faster than they could kill them.

Hawk yelled at Shot, told him to get down fast, it was about to get ugly.

“We’re way past ugly!” Shot yelled back.

Hawk trained his gun on the door leading to his rooftop. He glanced over the barrier; saw Call and Viper back-to-back, firing at the Hummers. Hawk heard sirens in the distance.
Finally
. Maybe it would scare them off. He was wrong.

The Russians were tearing apart the vehicles his team had arrived in. Looking for money. Looking for Mrs. Valenzo. There were neither. Now all hell was breaking loose.

Russians yelling in their native tongue, “Kill them all! Police. Kill them all!”

“One clip left,” Toad grunted. He sounded like he was wounded. Hawk adjusted his earpiece. 

The door to the roof burst open and Hawk crouched behind a rooftop duct support as he aimed his 9mm at the door and emptied the clip. Whoever was the behind the three bodies that fell chose not to press their luck.

A loud explosion rocked the dock's foundation and Hawk lost his footing. He hit the hard concrete, rolled to his back, hands over his ringing ears. Hawk struggled to reach for his other earpiece. Fumbled getting the pocket open. He could vaguely hear Pierce’s frightened voice calling for a check in.

“Hawk! Hawk, report!”

Couldn’t respond. Couldn’t form the words.

“Shot!”

No response.

“Call, Viper, Toad!”

No response.

Hawk heard the door burst open again. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete at his feet. His gun had been thrown from his hands from the effect of the blast.
Fuckin’ C4
. Louder sirens.

“Pierce. Put your earpiece in,” Hawk groaned. He didn’t know if he was speaking out loud or not, staggered to his feet, fought through the pain in his chest. “Pierce, come back.”

“Hawk! Hawk!” Pierce answered frantically. “They're shooting at the truck!”

“Put your earpiece in!” Hawk looked over the barrier, horrified at the massive fire streaking up the building that Shot was on. “Fuck!” he screamed. His ears rebelled. “Isadore!”

No response. They’d blown his building.

Hawk went for his .50Cal. It weighed a fucking ton on his best day. Right now it weighed a fuckin’ Mack truck. He hefted it and let it rest on the concrete railing. He yelled and squeezed the trigger. Killing everyone in sight around that trailer. “Pierce, go now.”

He saw Pierce jump down from the back of the trailer, his eyes wide with fear. He stopped and looked towards the building Hawk was on. Looked like he wanted to run to him.

“No! No! Get in the truck,” Hawk yelled.

Two men were coming up on the trailer and it took five shots for him to hit both of them. It was too close. His strength was waning, and taking his sight with it. He needed to get Pierce out of there now.

“Get in that goddamn Humvee, Pierce! Right now! Go!” Pierce wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t a fighter.

Hawk didn’t breathe until he saw Pierce’s taillights fading. Speeding toward the dock’s exit.

“Hawk.” Pierce’s voice was full of sadness. “Hawk, answer me!”

“Go Pierce. Just like we talked about. Go home.” Hawk yanked the earpiece out. He couldn’t listen to Pierce’s soft voice in his ear anymore. He needed to get back into the fight. He roared his fatigue. Hefted his weapon and fired down into the mayhem. Viper was pulling Toad behind a couple of containers, his body limp. There was no communication on Shot. No communication on Lucky.

He saw Call fighting with three men. He took aim but they were all over the place. He could see blood on Call’s collar. Didn’t know if he’d been hit by a bullet, or if he’d sustained it during the fighting. Call pushed one man back and Hawk squeezed the trigger. The velocity of the bullet sending the man over the guardrail and into the water. He looked back to Shot’s building, called out his name again.

No response.

Another explosion. This one bigger than the last. A huge ball of fire shooting up into the night sky, leaving a large mushroom cloud of black smoke in the air. Their command center. Blown off the dock. Hawk brought his hands down from his ears, saw the blood on his palms. “Fuuuuck,” he hissed. He had to get up. He was the cover, their long-range eliminator. The team was counting on him. Hawk gripped the railing and hoisted himself up again, grimacing at the fully consumed building where Shot was located.

“Call, what’s your twenty?” Hawk barely managed a hoarse whisper.

He looked back to the ground.

Call was down on one knee, a large man had a forearm over his throat, choking the life out of him. Another Russian in front of him the size of a wrestler cocked his fist back, landing a damaging blow to the side of his head. Call’s head snapped back, his face contorted in pain. Hawk screamed his panic. Aimed his weapon at that fucker’s forehead. Before he could squeeze the trigger white-hot pain seared up his leg, taking him down to the ground. “Augh!” Hawk knew that pain. Would recognize it in his dreams. He was shot. He couldn’t get to the rest of his team.

The Beastmasters were going down.

He pulled his Glocks from his leg holsters, yelled out with the pain of trying to stand. Three men came busting through the door, guns aimed at him. He dove behind the ducts, knowing already he was on borrowed time. His thoughts went to Pierce. He squeezed his eyes shut at the pain in his body. At the pain in his heart. He wished they’d had more time than they did. He’d fallen in love, and only got to enjoy it for one night.

Bullets pinged off the duct. He propped himself up on the steel surface and took a couple of deep breaths. This was it. Hawk had his guns up, but nothing was happening. Silence. Then a yelp. A grunt and quick cry. A thud. No more bullets firing at him. He took a chance and glanced around his cover. Five men on the ground. Motionless. Dead. A dark figure in all black walked up to him. Hawk blinked in shock. Omega’s hood pulled low in front but he knew it was him. He extended his arm to him. “Let’s get off this roof, SEAL.”  

Hawk took the offered hand and was pulled up to his feet. He groaned at the burn in the back of his thigh. But he couldn’t focus on that, he tried to hobble back over to the wall, but Omega had an arm around his waist pulling him.

“My team,” Hawk yelled, trying to pull away.

“We got to get down now,” the rough voice snarled back at him.

Hawk looked over and saw another dark figure moving through the Russians like they were kids. He was so damn fast they couldn’t get a good shot. Aiming but hitting nothing but air. “Jesus. Fuck.” Hawk’s mouth fell open with astonishment. Fucking Alpha, live and in action, and was it a sight to see. In all his years in the Special Forces, Hawk had seen some bad motherfuckers on the battlefield, but he’d never seen anything like him. He didn’t even have a firearm. Alpha was throwing some type of blade, producing them out of nowhere, hitting men in their throats, some in their chests. Moving fast toward Call. He ducked behind a crate, came around the other side. Bullets riddled the crate but he was already gone. He leapt on top of the crate in front of Call, came down with a Superman punch to the one with the hold on his throat. Threw his blade with a flick of wrist, piercing the one in front straight through his Adam’s apple. The Russian stumbled. Released Call, letting his body fall toward the hard ground but Alpha caught him. Hawk watched him pull Call’s body around the steel pipes, getting him to safety. Covered his body with his own. Swiftly killed anyone that even looked in their direction.

“Move, Hawk. We can’t stay up here. I have to bring you to Alpha so you can watch over Call. Then we have to get the fuck out of here.”

Hawk looked confused until he saw the red and blue lights lighting up the dock. Alpha and Omega needed to disappear, and Hawk had to find the rest of his team… what was left of them.

Chapter Twenty-Four

FOX

Fox came out the bathroom in his hospital room and saw a nurse adding another IV bag to his pole.

“What the hell is that? I said I don’t need any more pain medicine,” he grumbled. He knew he was being a huge pain in the ass, actually a straight up asshole, but he’d told these people that he was fine and he was ready to go home.

“It’s an antibiotic,” she responded without turning around. Most likely rolling her eyes at him.

Fox sat down in the chair, refusing to lie in that bed all day like they urged him to. He took his walk around the wing like the doctor requested, but he was usually MIA for a few hours, going downstairs to the cafeteria or going outside. He had to follow doctor's orders or else he wouldn’t be able to go back to work. So he gritted his teeth and took it. But if he wasn’t happy, then he made damn sure no one else was going to be happy.

“Who do I have to kill to get a goddamn drink around here? I asked for one like an hour ago. Maybe I’ll just die of thirst sitting here.” Fox flipped through the pages of the magazine Shot left in his room two days ago, wishing his man would call him soon and tell him how the mission went last night. He knew they had meetings after meetings after a successful mission, not to mention all the interrogations. Fox was nervous though. This mission was supposed to go by the book. They were apprehending for prosecution, not for elimination. It was way harder to physically arrest someone than it was to simply put a bullet in their head.

“Mr. Fox. You asked for a drink less than five minutes ago. As soon as I’m done with this, I’ll go get you one,” she said with a huff.

Fox didn’t respond. He picked up the remote for the television and began flipping through channels. At least they had cable. He tried to find a good movie, maybe that would help him keep his mind of his future partner. Fox smiled at that thought. Shot said they were going to be together. Said this was going to be permanent, and Fox couldn’t wait.

He stopped on CNN when he saw ‘Breaking News’ flashing across the screen. A young male reporter was talking about a Russian mob shootout with the San Drendino crime family. Fox knew that’s who Pierce’s team was going undercover as. He sat up and turned the volume as loud as it could go.

‘A fatal shoot out occurred right here behind me on the Lambert’s Point Docks between members of the Russian mafia and members of the San Drendino crime family. We have inside information that this was an undercover sting orchestrated by the DEA and the FBI to gain information on human trafficking that has plagued the United States for the last five years. If you will look behind me you can see the completely destroyed dock. We have confirmation that the number of fatalities is in the double digits and still rising.’