Read The Killing Chase (Beach & Riley Book 2) Online
Authors: Craig Hurren
The Killing Chase (Beach & Riley Book 2) (24 page)
Chapter 33
Vladimir Petrov sensed something was wrong. “Stop the car,” he said, looking at the guard post then up to the camera above the gate at the front of the Ugolev compound. “We have company. Sasha, tell the others to get back here quickly. But no tire screeching – we don’t want the
Militsiya
sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”
While Sasha made the call, the driver pressed the remote gate control and guided the vehicle toward the house. Twenty yards from the front entrance, Petrov said, “This is close enough.”
Ignoring the pain in his abdomen, the big man climbed out of the car. As his
bykis
followed him out, Petrov put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “How long before the others arrive?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“We can’t wait that long. Give me a weapon.”
Sasha looked at the knife protruding from his brigadier’s belly. The scarves they’d used to pack around the hilt were thickly matted with blood. Petrov caught Sasha’s stare and glanced down to check the status of his wound. “Stop wasting time, Sasha,” he said, grabbing a Steyr assault rifle from his right-hand man. “Your
pakhan
is in there, and so are the intruders. I’ll be right behind you.”
Inside the house, Mike Lee crouched low, peering through the inch-wide opening in the front door. He’d watched the big limousine pull up in the driveway with its lights off. As Petrov and his men got out of the car, Lee spoke into his comms, “A car just pulled up. Soldiers are coming.”
Jake replied, “How many?”
“Too dark to see, but there’s only one car.”
“Come to us – we’re in the room at the far end of the main hall.” Keeping his .45 trained on Ugolev, Jake turned to Dozer: “You’ve got the Russian.”
As Lee darted through the middle of the main hall toward Ugolev’s office, Jake moved to the door. Dozer, meanwhile, stepped behind Ugolev to wrap his massive arm firmly around the Russian’s neck.
“Lee,” Jake said, opening the door to let in the ex-CIA man, “cover the guy on the sofa. Priest – you’re with me.”
Priest moved into position on the left side of the doorframe, while Jake took the right. Seconds later, the door burst open, and Petrov’s driver barged in. His jaw dropped at the sight of his
pakhan
helplessly headlocked by a huge man whose other arm was aiming a gun directly at him. Before the driver could react, Dozer fired a round through the center of his forehead. As the body dropped to the floor, Petrov’s
bykis
began their entry, hugging the doors for cover. Jake and Priest fired two shots each from behind the double doors. The silenced rounds found their marks, and as Sasha fell to the floor his finger involuntarily squeezed the trigger on his rifle. The Steyr AUG sprayed automatic fire into the floor, throwing dust and chips of wood into the air. Jake and Priest came around their doors to put an additional round each into the bodyguards’ heads. The seasoned soldiers then crouched to check the outer room.
“Clear,” Jake said.
Priest began to pull the dead
bykis
into the room, but Jake stopped him. “Don’t bother,” he said, stepping over the bodies. “If there were any more, they’d be here by now.”
Jake refocused his attention on Ugolev. “Bring him out here, Dozer.”
The big Australian released his grip on Ugolev’s neck, pushing him out from behind his desk toward the center of the room. Jake walked over and stared the shorter man in the face. “Why did you kill my brother?”
Despite the circumstances, Ugolev remained completely calm. “Look around you, Mr. Riley,” he said. “How many men do you think I’ve had to kill to get where I am?”
Jake slapped the Russian crime lord hard on the side of his face. Regaining his composure, Ugolev rubbed his cheek. “You can torture me all you like, but I don’t recall having killed anyone named Riley.”
Jake realized his error. The CIA had given him his new identity three years previously, so Ugolev knew him only as Jake Riley. “His name was Shane,” Jake said. “But not Shane Riley.”
The Australian brothers looked at each other in confusion. Mike Lee, however, showed no sign of surprise. Instead he moved toward the center of the room, saying, “Just end him, Jake – and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Ugolev ignored Lee. He smiled and said, “In that case, Mr.
Riley
,
I would suggest you start by telling me your true family name.”
Jake had kept his real identity a closely guarded secret since he’d left Delta Force. He’d made many enemies during his service; in his current circle Mike Lee was the only person who knew his secret. Jake’s infallibly constructed CIA cover not only helped him to operate undetected on his personal missions, but was crucial in maintaining Tik’s safety – and that of other former associates. But he now realized, if he wanted to get to the bottom of his brother’s death, he must reveal it to Ugolev.
Jake looked at Dozer, then at Priest. “I’m sorry, guys. I couldn’t give up my cover. It’s kept Tik safe since I got her out of Laos.”
“Don’t do it, Jake,” Lee interrupted. “You don’t need to know why he did it – just kill the bastard!”
But Jake was resolute. He stared into Ugolev’s eyes. “Burton,” he said. “My brother’s name was Shane Burton.”
“Nicky?” a voice came from the doorway.
Dozer, Priest, and Jake spun their weapons toward the door. “Hold!” Jake shouted.
Dozer and Priest held fast as Jake focused on the large, hunched figure in the doorway. A Steyr assault rifle hung at the big man’s side, and a knife handle protruded from his belly. Struggling against shock from blood loss, the big man dropped his gun to the floor as he repeated, “Nicky – is that you?”
Jake hadn’t heard that voice or that name in over four years. The covert warrior was stunned by the sight before him. He tried to move toward the man, but his feet were glued to the floor. Suddenly, Mike Lee pushed Jake aside and took aim at Sergey Ugolev. Dozer caught Lee’s movement and dived toward the former CIA man, grabbing for his gun as Lee took the shot. Lee’s 9mm bullet ripped through Dozer’s left shoulder as the Australian’s massive right fist ploughed into Lee’s head. As Lee hit the floor, Priest neatly placed a shot into his thigh. Lee screamed, grabbing at his leg, while Priest darted toward his younger brother.
“Would someone please tell me what the hell’s going on here?” Dozer said, holding pressure on his shoulder wound.
Jake ignored everything but the man in the doorway. Struggling with his own confusion, he peered through the dust still hanging in the air from Sasha’s gunfire. His vision focused on the face he thought he’d never see again – the face of his brother, Shane Burton. As Jake slowly began moving toward his brother, Ugolev called out, “Vladimir – what is the meaning of this?”
But Ugolev’s right-hand man didn’t answer his
pakhan
. Blood oozing from his belly wound, and his younger brother standing there before him, the big man knew he would never again play the role of Vladimir Petrov – a role he’d been playing for more than three years. None of it mattered anymore. Shane Burton started to move toward Jake. “Nicky, is it really you?”
Chapter 34
Overcome by shock, Shane Burton began to slump to the floor. Jake made the distance just in time to catch his brother as he fell. Jake pulled the older and larger man up, hooking Shane’s arm around his neck for support. As Jake half-carried Shane toward the sofa, the old bespectacled man got up to make room for a man whom he’d known almost four years as Ugolev’s brigadier, Vladimir Petrov. Jake gently lowered his brother onto the sofa, easing his brother’s head onto the cushions, then looked at the instruments laid out on the table nearby.
“You’re a doctor, yes?” He glared at the old man. “Do something now, or you’re a dead man.”
The old man sputtered something in Ukrainian then looked to Ugolev as if for a cue. When Ugolev nodded, the old man spoke in English and began pulling on some surgical gloves. “I am Dr. Artem Yovenko, Sergey Ugolev’s personal physician. Your threats do not concern me – I do this for Mr. Ugolev, not for you, American swine.”
“There is no need for discourtesy, Artem,” Ugolev said. “I don’t care what Mr. Riley calls him – this is still our Vladimir Petrov.”
“You’ve gotta give it to him,” Dozer commented to Priest. “The bloke’s got bloody good manners. I reckon his mum would be proud.”
Priest shook his head; still pressing hard on his brother’s wound. “I don’t give a shit about his mum or his bloody manners,” he said, glowering at Ugolev. “If that doc doesn’t fix
my
brother up when he’s done, I’ll kill you myself – got it, mate?”
Ugolev smiled dismissively and began to walk toward the sofa.
“Oy, where do you think you’re going?” Dozer said, pointing his .45 at Ugolev’s head. “I never said you could move. Sit down on the floor right where you are and don’t move a bloody muscle.”
Ugolev complied, leaning down to wipe dust from the rug before lowering himself onto it. He crossed his legs and sat quietly as though meditating. Dozer gave him a satisfied grin then moved Priest’s hand from his shoulder in order to examine his wound. The Ukrainian doctor looked over at the brothers and called out, “Is there an exit wound?”
Priest pulled at his brother’s torn shirtsleeve to look underneath. “Yeah, it went right through.”
“You are a soldier, no? You know basic field medicine? Make yourself useful. Take some disinfectant and bandages. I’m busy.”
Priest shot the old man a killing glare, but walked over to the coffee table. He reached for a bottle of saline solution, some povidone iodine, and a bundle of gauze dressings. The doctor looked up from Shane’s wound to point a bloodied finger at a syringe preloaded with clear liquid. “Give your brother that shot of antibiotics. I will not need it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake’s arm shot out to grab Doctor Yovenko by the throat. “Listen to me. This is not a threat – it’s a promise. If Shane dies, you die.”
As the doctor glared back at Jake, Shane Burton reached up and placed his hand gently on his brother’s extended arm. Jake turned to look at Shane’s face smiling weakly beneath him. “We’ve both seen wounds like this before, little brother,” Shane said. “You know there’s nothing he can do.”
Jake wasn’t ready to accept reality. Logic and reason were losing the battle with emotion. “Bullshit! Do something – now!”
Despite his threats, Yovenko felt for Jake – and the man he knew as Vladimir Petrov. He sighed and reached to the table for a large-bore syringe and a brown glass bottle. He drew liquid up from the bottle until the syringe was almost full then grabbed a clear glass ampoule. He snapped off the top and drew the contents up to mix with the other liquid, then removed the needle from the instrument, leaving the stumpy plastic tip open. Carefully then, Yovenko manipulated the knife handle in Shane’s belly to allow access for the nub of the syringe. He spoke without looking up as he irrigated along both sides of the blade, “This is my own formula. It’s a mixture of lignocaine and cocaine solution for the pain, and adrenaline chloride to slow the bleeding. But you will have to face reality. The laceration to your brother’s liver is too severe. Even in an operating theater, there would be virtually no hope. There is too much damage.”
Jake’s face turned bright red with anger and frustration. With a small burst of vigor from the cocaine and adrenaline, Shane squeezed hard on his brother’s arm. “Grow a pair, soldier,” he growled. “Killing the doctor will get us nowhere. You know damned well there’s nothing more he can do, and we have precious little time. The rest of Ugolev’s soldiers are on their way, and I have things to tell you before you get your team out of here.”
His big brother had always had a way of controlling Jake’s emotions. The former Delta Force soldier forced his anger down to face the reality of their situation. He nodded solemnly and turned to the doctor. “Leave us,” Jake said. “Go take care of Dozer.”
Priest was holding the syringe of antibiotics up to the light as Doctor Yovenko got up from the sofa. “Just antibiotics, eh, doc?” Priest said. “How do I know it’s not poison or something?”
Yovenko snatched the syringe from Priest and jabbed it into his own arm. He depressed the plunger, injecting a third of the contents into himself before pulling the needle out. “Satisfied?” he said, replacing the needle with a fresh one. Then he pushed Priest to one side. “Get out of my way, stupid boy.”
“He’s got some balls,” Dozer said to his brother. “Better let the man do his thing.”
With Priest looking on suspiciously, Dr. Yovenko injected the antibiotics into Dozer then worked to clean his wounds before throwing a couple of large mattress stitches into each side of the big man’s shoulder.
Across the room meanwhile, Shane Burton spoke quietly with his younger brother, Nicholas. “I’m guessing it was you who chose the name
Jake Riley
,” he said, smiling. “You always did have a soft spot for the Irish.”
Jake did his best to master his emotions and maintain composure. “I guess the CIA’s identity nerds knew me well enough to pick something suitable,”
“Sounds about right.” Shane looked into his younger brother’s slate grey eyes. “I’m sorry,
Jake
. I wish I could have told you and spared you all the pain I’ve caused. But the mission was too important, and too fragile.”
Shane suddenly winced. Jake panicked, looking toward the doctor, but Shane squeezed his arm again. “It’s okay, little brother. I knew the risks. This operation was always going to be the end of me, but I had to do it anyway.”
“Why?” Jake pleaded. “What was so damned important you had to keep it from me? And for so damned long!”
“There’s no time to explain. For now, just know that I did it for our family.”
“
For our family
? What does that mean?”
“There’s no other way to say this. So I’m just going to say it. Mom and Dad’s plane crash was no accident.”
Jake’s mind was spinning. On top of everything, his supposedly dead brother was now telling him their parents had been murdered. He shook his head violently then leaned to whisper into his brother’s ear. “What’re you talking about? Both the NTSB and the Canadian authorities certified it was an accident.”
“That’s what
they
wanted us to believe,”
“Who the hell are
they
?”
“That’s what I can’t tell you here and now.”
Jake roiled with frustration. “There
is
nothing but here and now. You’re the one who keeps pointing that out.”
As Jake looked deep into Shane’s eyes, sorrow overcame him. He realized the last conversation he would ever have with his brother was ending in anger. And he couldn’t allow that. He clasped his brother’s right hand in his and cupped his left hand gently over the side of Shane’s face. “I’m sorry, Shane. I know you wouldn’t have done what you did without the right reasons.”
Shane smiled up. “My little brother. You’re not that skinny, awkward kid anymore,”
Extreme blood loss was winning the war. Shane’s eyes began to close, but Jake shook him back from the edge. “So tired,” Shane said, forcing himself to focus. “You have to get to Director Ballantyne at the CIA. He and I were the only ones who knew my cover. He knows the truth about Mom and Dad – about this undercover operation. Tell him what happened – you’ve got to get him to let you take over from here. The mission is too important to fail. Leave Ugolev alive – you’re going to need him. I’m depending on you, Nick. Now get out of here before reinforcements arrive.”
Before Jake could stop him, Shane reached down and pulled the knife from his belly. Dark blood oozed out to pool around his gaping wound, and his eyes closed again. Jake shook him hard, but got back only a faint whisper from his elder brother. “I’m sorry, Nicholas – I really am. I love you, brother.”
“I love you too, brother,” Jake said as Shane sighed deeply and closed his eyes for the last time. “Shane? Shane?” Jake shook his brother again, but he was gone.
Jake stood, gazing down at the man he’d looked up to; the child he’d grown up with; the brother he thought he’d lost years ago. A strange calm came over him. There was no urgent stabbing pain like he’d felt four years earlier when he was notified by the Department of the Navy that Shane had been killed in action. Time had changed Jake; changed his reactions and personality. And last time there’d been no proof, no body to bring home. This time he’d been here for Shane – not thousands of miles away, God knows where, on some long-forgotten and probably futile mission for the CIA or the DoD. This time was real. This time Jake knew for sure. Shane Burton was gone.
Jake turned to face the room. Dozer and Priest returned his stare, while Yovenko and Ugolev stared at Shane’s body. Mike Lee lay quietly on the floor, holding his leg wound. Priest broke the awkward silence. “Witnesses?” he said, nodding to Ugolev and the doctor. Then he pointed to Lee. “And that piece of shit?”
Jake moved toward Lee. “Ugolev and the doctor live. You, on the other hand,” Jake grabbed Lee by the front of his shirt, pulling his face close, “You’ve known me a very long time. You know there are no limits to what I’ll do. Talk now, or suffer the consequences – your choice.”
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Lee said, turning eyes to the floor. “I didn’t know about Shane, I really didn’t.”
“Spit it out, Mike – my patience is gone. If you want to survive this mess, tell me why you did it right now or I’ll force it out of you, then leave you to Ugolev’s men. And give me the short version – we’re out of time.”
“I had no choice. They said if Ugolev doesn’t die, they’ll kill
me
.”
“Who said that and why?”
“Romanian gangsters. I owe them a lot of money. I had no way to pay them back. They know what I used to do, so they gave me an ultimatum. I kill Ugolev, and they wipe the slate clean – and I walk away with a quarter million dollars. Or they start cutting pieces off me.”
“Romanian?” Ugolev interrupted, “What Roma–” but Priest kicked him in the ribs.
“Shut up, Russki.” the Australian growled. Ugolev gave him a defiant look, but held his tongue.
“What Romanians?” Jake shook Lee hard.
“They run drugs and illegal gambling dens all over Europe,” Lee said. “And these guys aren’t screwing around, Jake. You’re the only guy I know who could get to someone as powerful as Ugolev, so I made up the story about him killing Shane. I’m sorry, man.” Tears streamed from Lee’s eyes. “The boss is a guy called Gyorgi Albescu.”
Ugolev almost stood, but Priest dropped his foot onto the Russian’s crossed leg.
“Let him talk,” Jake said.
“Your stupid friend is running from a ghost,” Ugolev scoffed. “My brigadier, Vladimir Petrov – the man you keep calling Shane – just killed Albescu. But the treacherous snake must have known I’d ordered his death. He’s the one who killed Vladimir. But not before my men took out Albescu’s entire crew.”
Lee did a double take. “Albescu’s dead?”
“Cold as stone, you idiot,” Ugolev replied. “Vladimir there put a crystal bolt through his brain less than an hour ago.”
“I don’t give a damn about this Albescu guy,” Jake said. “Why the hell didn’t you just come to me with the truth in the first place? You know I could have helped you.”
Lee shrunk away. “I was ashamed – I did some really stupid shit to get myself into that position. And Albescu’s a seriously bad dude.”
“Was
a seriously bad dude.” Jake stood, dragging Lee’s entire mass up with one hand. “This ain’t over – not by a long shot. You’re coming with us, and you’re going to tell me everything.”
Lee was both frightened and relieved. He didn’t want to stay behind and face Ugolev’s men. He also knew he would now face Jake’s full wrath, yet secretly hoped his longtime friend would show him mercy. “I’ll do exactly what you say, Jake – I’m so sorry.”
“Save it. You’ll have to limp your way out of here. I think you know better than to try anything stupid.” Jake tossed him a long bandage from the coffee table. “Wrap it quickly. We’re outta here in ten seconds. You ready, boys?”
“Affirmative,” Dozer and Priest answered together. Lee, meanwhile, wound the bandage around his thigh, pulling it tight and tying off the end. Dozer and Priest were already halfway to the door while Jake leaned down to push his muscular arms between the sofa and his brother’s body. In one movement, he picked Shane up and turned to carry him out of the room.
