Jax: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense (11 page)

BOOK: Jax: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense
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Chapter 18

 

I raised my right hand high and then thrust it quickly downward, just like the starter at the Indy 500.  I saw Jerry put his weight behind the branch and the 84 Chevette began rolling down the hill.  He was fascinated how easy it was to break into the car.  He was even more excited to know he would get to push the branch that would put the car from second into neutral.  I remembered how one of the guys had that car at my first duty station.  He was always complaining how loose the gearbox was.  I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw one that looked nearly abandoned sitting up at the top of a small incline.

 

The car picked up speed on the descent.  It wasn’t lightning fast by any stretch, but impact at 15 miles an hour or more would be plenty for a building constructed of sheet metal.

 

The moment of impact was priceless.  A car that could likely fetch little more than $150 at an auction sliding right into the sheet metal just next to the door.  The Chevette was just tall enough and hit just hard enough to break out the window with the one-way tint.  Tint ensuring no one could see inside.  I had a clear line on two men through the window.  Single taps and they were done.  I stormed towards the door.  That was my first mistake.

 

If you’re going to take on the Korean mafia the first thing to remember is they know Korean martial arts.  Well.  Really well.  I hadn’t even breached the door and I felt a chop right to the side of my head.  I was down and not coming up anytime soon.

 

I felt water splash on my face.

 

“Nice of you to join us.”

 

I shook my head to each side a few times.  Kate was to my left.  Kong facing me.  One thug on either side.  I was gagged with what seemed like was a t-shirt that was in bad need of a wash.

 

Kong squeezed Kate’s face hard.  His thumb on one side of her mouth and his four fingers on the other.

 

“Pretty white lady like this going to make us a lot of money.  I think they pay more for American.  Russians are a dime a dozen.  American going to bring big money.  Her boy going to make us even more.”

 

I could see the tears in Kate’s eyes.

 

“You’re never going to find him.  The cops are going to be here any minute.”

 

Kong laughed.  “The cops?  The cops are my best customers.”

 

“You’re lying.”

 

“They say when a man has no money you can see his true character.  Not true, when a man has all the money, or all the power, then his true character is revealed.”

 

“You’re sick.”

 

“You will learn what sick is soon enough.”

 

Kong turned to me.  “Justice, you surprise me.  I am not only one who can survive big fall.  News say you are first survivor in six years.  Congratulations.  You survive fall, but you’re not going to survive what I have planned for you.”

 

He laughed.

 

“You know what it was like falling on those rocks in Korea.  I must hold my breath when I have no breath to hold.  I come up and hide behind some rocks.  You Americans don’t even respect me enough to make sure I dead.  You underestimate me.  You never make that mistake again.  Maybe you find out today what it’s like to survive in water for a few minutes.  Now let’s see if you can survive in water for a few weeks.”

 

He came closer and slapped me right in the mouth with his backhand.  He stared at me directly in the eyes.  “Jax Justice.  Where you get funny name?  You think you superman?  I show you justice.  I show you what it’s like to die at sea.”  He turned to his two thugs.  “Put him in a hard top to Odessa.  Two centimeter air hole, three gallons of water and 20 banana.”  He turned back to me and laughed.  “We don’t want you dying on us on too quickly superman.”

 

His head rolled back and he laughed a deep belly laugh.  He clapped his hands and continued laughing.  I had seen a lot of movies during our downtime in the SEALs.  The hero versus villain was always a popular favorite.  The villain always delivered the worst, stereotypical, Dr. Evil type laugh.  I thought it was only in the movies.  Not anymore.  Kong was Dr. Evil personified.

 

His thugs pulled me up from the chair and pulled me towards the door.

 

“Not going to say good-bye to your girlfriend?  She’s gonna be my girlfriend tonight.”

 

The thugs pulled me away and continued dragging me to the door.

 

“Wait.  One more thing.  You Americans all love baseball right?  Your national pastime?  First base I eliminate Harper, that double agent scum who only good for pawn then dispose.  Second base, I finish what you tried to start.  Third base, I embarrass American military.  And home base I get granddaughter of Russian traitor…all…night…long.  What you call this, superman?  Touchdown!”

 

I struggled to get at Kong but the thugs held me tighter.  This was the worst kind of bottom feeder.  Not only was he trafficking humans, he was using women and children as pawns in a battle they had no business in.  I wanted to rip his guts out and step on them over, and over and over again.  And he didn’t even know sports metaphors.

 

Kong continued to laugh as his two remaining thugs dragged me towards the door.  I was running terribly low on time and options.  We crossed the threshold and into the night, and continued down to the containers.

 

“Welcome to your new home, dead man.  Just think of it as a floating coffin and everything will make sense.” They shoved me out of the way and moved to the front of the containers.

 

“Boss said water and bananas.”

 

“It will rain sometime after he gets halfway across the Atlantic.”  They laughed together as one opened the container and the other pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.  I could see the pack in the available light.  It was red with two Chinese characters.  Chunghwa.  The most popular brand in China.  I was expecting a popular American or Russian brand.  What would they be doing with Chinese cigarettes?

 

“You got me.  You win.”

 

“What you say, scum bag?”

 

“I said you got me.  You win.  There’s nothing more I can do.”

 

“You just figure that out?”  They laughed uncontrollably.

 

“Let me have one last cigarette.  One before I die in the middle of the ocean in a sardine can.”

 

“You want cigarette?  Nothing free in this life.  You earn cigarette.”

 

“Fair enough.  How do I earn it?”

 

They looked at each other and laughed.  The one on the right pulled out his Samsung mobile phone.

 

“You Navy SEAL, right?”

 

“I’m not active duty anymore.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“I’m retired.”

 

“But you were?”

 

How do I explain to him that there’s no such thing as a former Navy Seal?  Once a SEAL, always a SEAL.  More importantly what’s my plan?  My stall is barely working.  I need some action.

 

“Yes, I was.”

 

“Good enough.  You can pretend you still are.”

 

They spoke quickly in Korean and then began laughing again.

 

“You ready to be Youtube star?”

 

“I get a cigarette?”

 

“You gonna get a lot more than a cigarette.”  The both laughed uncontrollably.

 

There was no way I was going to dishonor myself, my country, and the SEALs.  Not an option.  They could even torture me if they wanted.  I’m not selling out.

 

“One cigarette first.”

 

“We in charge.  Cigarettes after.”

 

“OK.  What are we doing?”

 

They laughed again.  This was really getting old.

 

“We gonna teach you Korean prison song.  Initiation song.  Just think of it like karaoke.”

 

“I’m a good singer.”

 

They couldn’t control their laughter.  “Singing in prison…a little different.”  They laughed so hard they were bent over.  Hands on their knees.

 

Now was my chance to show these guys how American sports work.  I got a two step running start before they even realized it was coming.  They were too close together.  I had to choose one.  I decided to give the guy on the left all I had, and for that I needed to follow through.  I planted my left leg on the fifth step. This scum of the earth just began his upward motion in order to stand up straight.  This only helped me more.  By this point it was too late.  My foot connected about 24 inches off the ground.  I followed through like I was kicking a 63 yard field goal to win the Super Bowl.  Blood went everywhere.  At a minimum his nose was broken and his vision gone.  I spun back into position and delivered a leg sweep taking down the other thug.  I jumped for a face stomp but he rolled out of the way and he righted himself immediately getting to his feet.  My hands were tied and I was about to square off with what was likely a martial arts expert.  My odds had improved for about three seconds.  Now they were falling again…fast.

 

He came at me in a flurry of fists and spins.  I managed to dodge the initial onslaught but as he passed me he caught me with a reverse elbow to the kidney.  I tasted blood immediately.  He came back at me in another flurry finishing with a jump and elbow hammer to the shoulder.  The pain was like a boulder dropping down.  I felt the pain ripple through my entire being, sending me to the concrete.  I instinctively rolled, which turned out to be a good idea as a boot landed where my head had just been.  I rolled over like a turtle and stumbled to my feet.  He just laughed at me.

 

“Where you want it?”

 

“Try me.”

 

“He came again but straight like a football tackle, he pulled up short at the last second and prepared to deliver cupped hands to each side of my head.  My eardrums would have ruptured on impact, but I caught a break.  I couldn’t take his charge standing still.  At nearly two inches taller than my 6 feet 5 inches and probably 50 pounds heavier thanks to cocktails of steroids and blended egg whites it might have been the end of me if he landed it square.  I took my forward momentum and landed a perfect head butt.  Cracking his nose.  I had delivered two broken noses, but was still losing the battle.  I had to free my hands from this rope.  My belt prong was the only option.  As the thug stumbled from the shock of impact and the blurred vision from the watery eyes that accompany a head butt I tried the prong.  It was secured too well and even if I had been able to free it there’s no way it would have been sharp enough.  The belt I left in the hospital when I walked out…a different story.

 

I was running out of options and fast.  I made my way back to the men and delivered two more kicks to each to keep them down and off me.  I couldn’t run.  They’d eventually catch me. I couldn’t jump in the harbor.  I wasn’t fit to swim.  What to do?

 

I heard an owl noise 10 yards to my left, in the darkness.

 

“Jax.  Over here.  Quick.”

 

I ran to the darkness by a dumpster.  “Jerry, get out of here.”

 

“I saw everything.  I got a piece of sheet metal.  It’s sharp enough.”  Jerry went to work simultaneously sawing through the rope with the sharp piece of metal and trying to untie the knot with his other hand.  I never would have wanted, or trusted, a kid to be involved in such a situation.  I knew Cole had been working a lot with Jerry, but still, this was way above what he should be exposed to.  I also knew this was our only option and if Jerry didn’t get me free, he’d soon wind up with a fate similar to his mom and I.

 

The thugs started to come to and stumbled their way over towards the dumpster.  From their position it looked like I was trying to rub the knot against the side of the dumpster.  Jerry would be blocked from their view.  If they got close I’d have to lunge in their direction.  The question was could Jerry get the rope off in time?

 

“Smooth is fast.  Smooth is fast.”  I kept hearing him repeat.  I knew he got this from Cole.  Get in a hurry and you’re almost sure to mess up the process prolonging the time.  Stay calm, and smooth, and the fast times come quick.  It the saying we always used when disassembling and assembling our weapons.  Jerry had learned it.

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