The Killing Chase (Beach & Riley Book 2) (23 page)

Chapter 32

“Doesn’t look so bad to me, Jakey,” Dozer said, putting down his binoculars. “I reckon we just go for it.”

Priest gave Jake an apologetic look. “He gets like this when he can smell combat.”

“It’s a good thing he’s always had you around to level him out,” Jake said. “But Dozer’s right – security does look pretty thin. Seems strange for an operation the size of Ugolev’s.”

“Maybe he’s just overconfident.”

“Doesn’t add up. Ugolev’s group is the most powerful in Kiev, so I guess they’ve got a right to be cocky, but Raffy says Ugolev’s number two is a seriously cautious and capable brigadier. Why would he leave his
pakhan
with such thin security?”

“I don’t know,” Lee said. “But for once, I’m with Dozer. Let’s make hay while the sun shines.”

Dozer gave Lee a playful thump on the shoulder, nearly knocking the former CIA man over with his massive bear paw.

“Jesus, Dozer,” Lee said. “You got brass knuckles on that thing?”

Dozer examined his hand as though actually looking for such an implement. “Me Mum reckons I’m big-boned.”

“So you’ve said. Well, save your damned big bones for the bad guys, will you?”

Dozer shrugged, mumbling under his breath, “Some bloody super spy.”

Jake called the men in for a huddle. “I don’t care what things look like from the outside – no unnecessary risks. I want silencers on all weapons, and make sure anything you shoot stays shot. We don’t want anyone setting off alarms or warning anyone inside. Is everyone clear on their jobs?”

Dozer, Priest, and Lee all nodded.

“Tell it to me,” Jake looked at Lee.

“Come on Jake,” the former CIA operations officer said. “How long have you known me?”

“I don’t give a damn, Mike. I’ve seen you direct plenty of operations, but I’ve never seen you in action on the ground. I know you’re qualified, but you stopped active field ops years before we met. Tell it to me.”

Lee sighed. “I hold back and watch for reinforcements to make sure you guys don’t get flanked. I wait at the outer gate until you breach the front door, then follow you in, and wait for instructions once I’m inside.”

“Don’t take anything for granted. And don’t break formation.”

Lee shook his head. “I won’t.”

“Dozer, you’re next,” Jake said.

“I hold my ‘very drunk’ brother up as we walk along the sidewalk until three yards past the guard gate. Priest ‘accidentally’ falls, and I kneel down to try and pick him up. You deal with the guard and shoot out the camera, then we’re up and hot on your tail until we get to the front door, where we take up standard breach positions.”

“Good,” Jake said. “Don’t forget to keep your weapons well hidden under your overcoats, and don’t let them clatter when Priest hits the deck. Priest, are you clear?”

“As an outback sky, Jakey.”

“Okay, check your weapons. When everyone’s set, we move out.”

The other men set silencers on their handguns and assault rifles, while Jake checked his knives and shaped charge ordnance before mounting silencers on his two H&K 45C’s. Finally, he made sure his steel
kubotan
was easily accessible in his pocket. He looked up to see his comrades ready and waiting.

“Stealth and damage, ladies,” Jake said. “If it moves or makes noise, kill it before it can.”

The men moved away from their position behind several large, leafy trees in a private lot across the street from Ugolev’s mansion. Jake darted down the road before crossing the deserted street to take up position at the far northern end of the walled property. Dozer and Priest stayed behind cover until they were beyond the guard’s view, while Lee remained hidden directly across from the gate, watching the others move into place. Satisfied they’d gone undetected, the Australians crossed the street well beyond Jake’s position and began their drunken shuffle along the sidewalk leading past the mansion’s front gate.

Slurring their words loudly, Dozer and Priest accomplished their objective. A single guard leaned against the gate, watching in amusement as the two drunken tourists struggled to maintain a straight line in his direction. Mafioso confidence coursing through his veins, he pulled out a cigarette to enjoy the show. After all, the Ugolev clan ruled the city’s underworld, and the guard knew no one from the other families would dare attack his
pakhan
’s compound – especially while Petrov was doing an enormous favor for the other families by taking out the upstart Romanian, Gyorgi Albescu. Besides, even if one of the smaller clans had the balls, it would take a small army to succeed, not two drunken fools.

Three yards past the Ugolev guard, Priest purposely tripped himself and tumbled to the pavement. The guard scoffed at the pair; watching as the larger of the two leaned awkwardly to try to assist his fallen drinking buddy. Increasing the slapstick effect, Dozer teetered and swayed as though about to join his partner on the sidewalk. The guard’s amusement quickly evolved into raucous laughter. But as he gulped to refill his expended lungs for the next belly laugh, his face suddenly became vacant.

While Jake held the guard’s body up to obscure himself from the surveillance camera, he withdrew the four-and-a-half inch blade of his Kershaw Scrambler knife from the base of his victim’s skull. Then Jake backed into the guard booth, carefully placing the dead man’s body so it would appear to a casual observer that he’d simply nodded off on the job. Jake even pushed the filtered tip of the guard’s cigarette into his mouth for added realism. Then he pulled out his silenced H&K .45, took aim, and fired into the side of the gate camera, which was focused on Dozer and Priest.

The flash of burnt-out electronics signaled the Australians. Dozer grabbed his brother’s hand, yanking Priest to his feet, and the pair darted to the gatehouse to follow Jake into the grounds. On his way past, Dozer glanced at the dead guard. “Those things’ll kill you, mate.”

Priest turned to give his brother a quick look of disapproval.

The big man smiled. “Couldn’t help meself.”

Jake dashed for cover behind a large oak tree, just off the center of their path from the gate to the front entrance. As Dozer and Priest fell in behind him, Jake peered past the trunk toward the entrance, then turned to his comrades. Holding up one finger, he motioned to the perimeter, five yards to their right. The Australians followed on his heels as Jake bolted to the shadows of the boundary wall, tracing it until they were level with the front door. Then he cut left and crouched behind cedar shrubs at the corner of the house. A few seconds later, the guard at the front door walked down two steps away from the house, trying to see his comrade at the front gate.

Jake seized the opportunity. By the time the front door guard sensed his presence, it was far too late – Jake was a yard from his side. The left-handed Ukrainian reached for his sidearm, but Jake’s right hand intercepted, clenching the back of the guard’s left wrist. In one fluid movement, Jake retracted his own arm inward, straightening the guard’s arm to full extension. The skilled martial artist continued the well-practiced move, driving his now closed elbow into the back of his target’s open joint. The technique combined savage power with military precision to dislocate the man’s elbow. Jake clasped his left hand over the guard’s mouth to muffle his scream then bodily lifted him back upstairs, while Dozer and Priest took up defensive positions either side of the door.

Jake jerked the guard’s face toward a security keypad beside the door. “Passcode,” he demanded.

Through Jake’s gloved hand, the guard spat a defiant refusal. With the
kubotan
in his free hand, Jake let go of the man’s face and, in a split-second, rammed the five-and-a-half inch long Japanese steel dowel sideways into the man’s mouth as far as it would go. The protruding ends of the small weapon forced the guard’s cheeks back, forming a maniacal grimace. Normally used to add weight and hardness to hand strikes, the steel
kubotan
crunched between the guard’s molars as it stretched the flesh at the corners of his mouth. Jake then grabbed the guard’s right wrist with his left hand, forcing it outward from the man’s body, while driving his right elbow violently upward into the armpit, dislocating the guard’s right shoulder.

Both arms now hung loosely at the sentry’s sides. Tears of pain streamed from his eyes while blood trickled from the corners of his mouth as he strained to accommodate the diameter of the
kubotan
without breaking his back teeth.

Jake turned to Priest. “We haven’t got ten minutes to do this your way. Either he talks or we blow the door.”

Priest shrugged and regarded the pitiful wreck. “Looks like you’re buggered, mate. Why don’t you just give us the passcode before our friend here gets upset?”

Close to breaking but still defiant, the man shook his head.

“I hope you like drinking your dinner, mate,” Dozer said before pretending to cover his eyes. “I can’t watch.”

Jake wrapped his right hand over the guard’s head then placed the heel of his left hand under the man’s chin. “You aren’t the first man I’ve put in this position,” Jake said in a fierce whisper. “There are three things could happen now. Your jaw could snap in the middle, it could dislocate – just like your elbow and your shoulder – or your teeth could shatter. I’ve seen all possible combinations of the three. Last chance – what’s the pass-code?”

Jake applied gradual upward pressure with his left hand, watching the sentry’s eyes began to bulge. The pain was far greater than the man had expected. He began blinking and grunting wildly. Jake released the pressure. “Passcode?”

The man nodded in acquiescence. As Jake began to remove the
kubotan
, he said, “If I take this out, and you don’t tell me the code, or if you give me the wrong numbers, I’ll cut your balls off and shove them down your throat before I put this thing back in your mouth and start again. Are we clear?”

The man nodded more vigorously. Jake pried his mouth open just enough to remove the weapon. No sooner was it clear of his mouth than the guard blurted out, “Two-seven-seven-eight-two-three.”

“Well, that seems to have worked.” Jake smiled at Priest.

The Aussie shrugged, keeping his watchful eye over the empty grounds. “Never said it wouldn’t, Jakey.”

Dozer punched the numbers into the keypad while Jake held the battered and broken lookout by the throat. When the door bolt clunked open, Jake gave the guard a gentle slap on the cheek. “Good boy – looks like you get to live,” he said, before slamming his fist holding the
kubotan
into the base of the man’s neck. “Sleep tight.”

Jake dumped the instantly unconscious guard behind some bushes at the side of the entrance then turned to the door. Priest ducked low on the right side, and Dozer stayed high on the left, while Jake took the middle position. Priest pushed the heavy door. It opened to reveal a wide, deserted entry hall. Jake checked left and right inside the door before entering; the Australians followed close behind. The entry exposed a cavernous entertaining area with a high, vaulted ceiling. The room resembled a Victorian boudoir, opulently decorated with ornate period furniture, hand-woven rugs, and beautiful works of art. Business was obviously good.

Jake whispered into his comms unit for Mike Lee to follow them in and guard the main entrance. Then the three intruders walked along the left wall toward the first of three closed double doorways. No light emanated from beneath the door, but Jake crouched to listen a few seconds. Satisfied the room was vacant, he moved on toward the next door directly to the rear of the main entertaining area. As he neared, Jake could see light glowing from under the double doors. He held a closed fist in the air, and the team stopped just short of the entrance. A shadow crossed the beam of light spilling from under the door. Jake turned to his men, now holding two fingers up to his eyes then pointing under the door.

Priest crept to the far side of the entrance, while Dozer stayed on Jake’s flank as he moved to the near side of the door. Jake reached for the handle and pressed gently. The heavy brass fixture gave way, tilting downward under Jake’s fingers. He held the handle in place, and looked to Priest. The Australian nodded while Dozer gave Jake a light pat on the shoulder. Jake moved to the center of the entrance and pushed gently inward as Dozer and Priest aimed their M4’s. The door swung open without a sound, revealing a man standing behind a desk at the far side of the room, with his back to the entrance. The man wore an expensive, pin-striped charcoal suit and spoke softly into his cell phone.

Jake and his comrades flowed into the spacious room in silence, checking each side of the door as they went. Another man in his sixties sat on a sofa on the right side of the room. He looked through bifocals, checking an array of surgical implements and bandages on a large coffee table in front of the sofa. As the three intruders came into his peripheral vision, the man tilted his head forward to peer over his glasses. The seated man froze in fear as Dozer and Priest trained their weapons on him, and Jake held a finger to his lips. Priest moved toward the sofa while Dozer pulled the heavy door closed behind them.

The well-dressed man behind the desk finished his call and turned to face the room. With Jake’s gun sights aimed at his head, the man put his phone down on the desk and spoke: “It appears I underestimated your tenacity, Jake Riley.”