Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 41
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
A barrage of return fire greets us as we dive to the side, away from our previous coverage. As I land and slide behind one of the support columns, I take a look back and see the large display case crack and fold in on itself as the last bullets from the assassins’ automatic weapons decimate it and its contents.
The insurance company is NOT going to like that, I think, as I stand and take up position behind the pillar. Just as I get to my feet, I look across the hall and see Kane do likewise, except, he’s bleeding from the right side of his face.
A piece of glass, maybe?
It doesn’t really matter I guess, just as long as he’s okay and still able to fight, which he does just fine. Kane draws both his massive handguns and leans out to the right and advances. As he moves, he carefully squeezes off one booming shot after another, successfully pinning down the attacking force. I follow suit from the right side of the hall, but hold my fire, as we make for the center of the large room.
The next case is as large as the one we hid behind where we entered the hall, which helps conceal my silent approach. I peek around the edge of the case, the bottom half being made of a beautifully stained wood and not a see-through glass. There are two more men crouched, hands over their heads, ducking Kane’s ear-splitting Desert Eagles.
I don’t wait, I raise my Glock, aiming for the closest man’s head. I’m about to pull the trigger when he glances in my direction, seeing me clearly. I pull the trigger anyways, erasing the surprise off his face with one bullet, and take aim on the next man.
He sees his comrade fall and turns to fire, but just as he’s about to shoot, a massive hole erupts from his chest. Kane calmly and quietly steps out from the other side of the display, gun barrel smoking.
I nod and stand, following the big guy north, towards the Castle’s front entrance.
“We need to get to the car,” Kane says in a whisper. “We need more firepower. I doubt that was it.” I silently agree, thanking him for talking me into bringing the heavy hitters that I refused on the plane. But before we go any further I hold up a hand, pausing Kane. Carefully, I run back and retrieve our shoes.
We quickly slip back into them, not needing the stealth anymore, and make our way to the set of large wooden doors ahead, and peek around them. They lay slightly ajar from what must have been Frost and Brooks’ exit to Jefferson Drive, where our car is parked.
Not seeing or hearing anything from beyond the door, we exit but stop just outside and wait again. The guys we are after are pros, not a couple of punks, so caution is warranted.
The front entrance is covered slightly by a porch, also made of red sandstone, and provides adequate cover. Kane silently signals for me to follow him and we descend the short set of stairs undisturbed. Reaching the curb on Jefferson Drive without incident, we step out into the open and are halfway to our Jeep Cherokee SRT8, when a smattering of rifle fire erupts around us.
Kane shoves me forward as we roll behind the vehicle, listening to the front end of the brand-new car gets pelted with lead. I groan as Kane pushes off me and pops the lid to the rear hatch, giving us access to our much-needed upgrades.
He zips open a bag and hands me my new favorite weapon, the AA-12 auto shotgun with two spare drum mags.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I flinch as the windshield is smacked with bullets, but calm down as I remember that it’s bulletproof. If it hadn’t been, I’d probably be Swiss cheese right now. Glancing back to Kane, I see him slap a magazine into a new FN SCAR and load a round into the grenade launcher attachment.
He rails back on the loading mechanism, glances over his shoulder, and then back to me. “You ready, Junior?” His Sean Connery accent is spot on, which gets me wondering if he is as good an actor as Brooks was downstairs just a few minutes ago. The guy played us like Charlie Daniels would his fiddle.
I shake it off, knowing him too well for him to be playing me and cock my AA-12, loading the first slug and reply with a grin, “Don’t call me Junior.”
The Smithsonian Castle
Washington D.C., USA
Nicole looked down at William’s body, through tear-filled eyes. She could hear the battle above and wanted desperately to run up the stairs, guns blazing, to help Hank and Kane. But, she knew leaving Ben and Olivia with William and Sophia’s bodies wasn’t right. They had both known him for a long time and respected each other.
“Do you love him?”
She looked up to meet Ben’s eyes, off-balanced by the questions timing. “Yes,” she replied, not hesitating. She had no idea where the answer came from, it just slipped from her lips, one hundred percent truthful.
Ben just nodded. “William had often said how grateful he was that you had taken to his son. Hank needs someone strong supporting him right now.” He looked down to his friend. “Now more than ever.”
A fresh stream of tears streaked down Nicole’s face as her imagination took over. She imagined herself standing at the altar with Hank, Kane to the side of him, his patent shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
She looked at the rows of people seated in the audience watching and supporting them. Her parents glowing with love and appreciation for Hank.
Her relationship with her father was never what you would call “healthy.” They constantly battled over her schooling and career choices. He wanted her to be a doctor like him, but she fell in love with history as a child and then with an archaeologist, her late husband, Tomas.
After Tomas was murdered, their relationship strengthened like you’d think it would, but then she told him she was rejoining Dr. Boyd’s team and taking over Tomas’s role as a project leader. Their relationship had been on edge ever since.
Still, in her daydream, Nicole shifted her attention to the other bench, the one that would be reserved for the groom’s family, and sighed. The emptiness of the seat ripped at her soul. Both William and Alison, a woman she never had the privilege to meet, were gone, leaving Hank with no family to speak of. He had some random aunts and uncles and cousins around the country, but no one close to him. Just his friends.
Looking back to the stairs above, Nicole removed herself from the fantasy and turned her attention back to Ben. She again glanced down at the still form between them and sniffed back another round of tears.
“It’s just,” she said, releasing the tears. “It would have been nice to call him Dad.”
This got a fresh set from Ben as he smiled. “It isn’t too late.”
Nicole’s eyebrows raised, not understanding.
“What I mean is,” Ben continued, “just because you lost him today, doesn’t mean you can’t still call him father tomorrow. Death doesn’t take the memory of someone away so easily.” He then smiled, a memory of some kind flashing through his thoughts. “You can still call him Dad if you want, but Hank needs to survive for that to happen.”
Finding some resolve in his words, Nicole stood, not bothering to try and wipe the drying blood from her face and clothes. She unzipped a pocket on the outside of her Tac-Pac and removed a set of black straps. Attaching one to either side of her belt, Nicole buckled the collapsible holsters around each one of her thighs.
“Stay with Olivia,” Nicole said as she tightened the last strap. She looked up to Ben. “Please.”
He nodded and looked over his shoulder to the woman. She wasn’t a soldier like Kane or even an unnaturally strong-willed person like Hank. She was an average, everyday human being, and she was scared to death.
Nicole checked both Rugers, flicked off the safeties and slid them into their places, feeling a little of her inner strength come back. She straightened her posture, forcing it now, masking her feelings of hurt and dread.
She looked back and forth between the door at the top of the steps and Ben, stopping at his gaze. Breathing a shaky breath, she turned to leave, but the other man stops her.
“Ms. Andersson?” Ben asked, quietly.
She looked over her shoulder but didn’t turn enough to see William’s still form again. She knew she would lose whatever courage she had just mustered together if she did.
“Yes?”
Ben stood. “Don’t let us lose both of them in one today, okay?”
She nodded, “Ja,” and then took the stairs two at a time to find Hank.
36
The Smithsonian Castle
Washington D.C., USA
Not only did we run into more of Frost’s goons after collecting our “upgrades,” but it started to pour down rain, making visibility awful. The only reason we can see at all is because of our high-tech specs. Thankfully, Frost, Brooks, and their forces don’t have them too. These are as unique a design as any.
Kane and I decide to stick together rather than separate. I may be a lot better in a fight now than I was only a few months ago, but I still don’t trust myself fully. Plus, we are going up against more than one assailant right now. If it was strictly one-on-one, then I might be able to take care of myself.
We round the northeast corner of the Castle, heading towards the rear of the building, and hide behind a couple of large hedges.
“Why don’t we go through the Great Hall and exit out the back?” I ask.
“Because,” Kane replies, “they’ll be sure to have guys watching the back door. As soon as we step out, we’d be mowed down. Better go the long way and be safe…ish.” He says the last part with an iffy look.
“Thanks for the reassurance, bud.”
His plan makes sense. It would be a bottleneck in the doorway and who knows how many more await us. Might as well use the bad weather to our advantage.
I poke my head out from behind the thick shrubbery, trying to see farther down the lawn to the rear garden. It’s hard to make out anything through the downpour, but there has definitely been someone here recently.
“Tracks,” Kane says softly, looking at a different set of compressed footprints in the wet grass.
A couple someones apparently, I think, seeing the second set of footprints for myself.
Looks like Frost and Brooks went around back. Huh… I turn to Kane. “Why would they go out the front door and yet still go around back?”
He shrugs. “Most likely luring us out back through the hall for a trap. It’s what I would do, but does it really matter?”
He’s right, it really doesn’t matter why. It only matters that they did. We slowly step out from behind our cover and cautiously advance around the east side of the building.
The Folger Rose Garden takes a beating as we push through it, but its beauty is going to have to take a backseat to our stealth for now. We’d be sitting ducks if we went straight through between the Castle and the Arts and Industries Building next door. So we opted for the off-the-beaten-path route and carefully traipse through the rose bushes, sticking close to the sandstone building.
Paths crisscross through the garden, and we use them when convenient, but navigating them entirely, would be a bad idea. Who knows what kind of traps or blind spots there are, especially with the weather turning to crap like it has. The early hour plus the weather ensures us of privacy and less collateral damage as well. If this was going on during peak visiting hours, dozens of people could get hurt or killed.
As we pass a beautiful cast iron fountain, a blur of motion catches my attention. A man dressed in black fatigues jumps out and thrusts a rifle in our faces. He should have known who he was dealing with.
Kane reaches out, and in one swift move, backhands the barrel away from his face with his left hand, while striking out with his right. The open palm hits the mercenary’s trigger hand, knocking it lose, silently disarming him without a shot being fired.
The man then lashes out with a horribly oversized Rambo knife and swipes it across Kane’s face. But, Kane being who he is, blocks the attack with one of his forearm braces, then grabs the guy’s wrist and yanks him forward. A meaty palm is then driven straight up into the assassin’s face, crushing his nose, driving the bone and cartilage into his brain, killing him on his feet.
As the body goes limp, Kane nonchalantly tosses it into the fountain with minimum noise, following with the killer’s rifle. He picks up his dropped SCAR. “Let’s go.”
The entire assault took all of fifteen seconds, and not a shot was fired. Barely a sound was made in fact. I just watch Kane step away, in awe. Damn, I’m glad he’s on my side.
We round another of the rose bushes, this one of dark purple coloration, bypassing the next trail. Kane leads me into a sizeable treed section at the rear of the rose display. It’s only a short distance through the smaller patch of plants, and we reach the other side in no time.
Thank God we wore pants, I think, as we step out of the garden and into the outskirts of the Haupt Garden, covering the rear of the Castle grounds.
Kane motions for me to kneel, just inside the foliage beside him. We silently scan the clearing in front of us but don’t step out quite yet. There are plenty of spots for the couple someones we are looking for to hide.
After thirty seconds he motions for me to move. I follow him right towards the rear entrance and around the central part of the huge Haupt Garden.
Not seeing anything, we stand in unison and step out into the open and are immediately met with the audible clicks of weapons being readied. Four men stand, dressed in solid green fatigues. Each one of them matches the grass perfectly with that of the Haupt’s interior lawn across from the rear door. They raise their sound suppressed automatic rifles and aim as one, like a firing squad about to kill a hostage or enemy.
“Sorry gentlemen, but this is where we officially say goodbye!” A voice yells from across the courtyard. I look past the four men with the weapons trained on us and see Frost and Brooks climb into a waiting black SUV. Frost is standing on the step-up mounted under the rear passenger door waving at us.
Then the doors shut and the large SUV’s driver cranks the wheel hard, turning them east down Independence Avenue, out of sight.
“Sorry, Hank.”
I look to my left and see Kane, eyes closed, a look of failure on his face as the four green-clad men slowly start to compress their triggers.
The door behind us is suddenly kicked open with a bang, which startles the gunmen and us alike. Then, a flurry of booms and shouts erupt, as Kane and I instinctively dive to the ground. All four of our would-be killers are hit with a torrent of gunfire, each man taking several rounds to the chest. They fall as one, synchronized in death, hitting the concrete with dull thuds.
Kane and I uncover our ears and push ourselves off the ground, looking up to our savior. With a ringing in my ears, I see Nicole step out from the elevated doorway, twin Rugers smoking. As she casually descends the steps, she expels both of her empty ten round clips, letting them fall to the concrete below.
Twenty shots, four dead, apparently she didn’t want to take any chances and unloaded everything she had.
She nods to Kane, who returns it with a look of thanks, and then turns to me. “You okay?”
I slowly nod and smile. “I am now.”
“Good,” she says, smiling back. “I would have hated to find out that you were hurt and—”
A horn out beyond the garden’s grounds blares, interrupting Nicole, as our Jeep screeches to a stop just outside the rear gates. Ben jumps out of the driver’s side and yells, “I can see them further down Independence Avenue! If we hurry, we can catch them!”
The three of us look at each other in shock at seeing Ben screaming over the white noise of rainfall for us to hurry. But we do, as Nicole turns on a heel, leading the charge, taking off at a sprint towards the waiting Jeep.
We exit the Haupt Garden through the same cast iron gates Frost and Brooks did. Ben tosses the keys to Kane and climbs in behind him, not even making an effort to ask him to drive. He understands what’s at stake and knows Kane can handle the Cherokee’s 475 horsepower engine better than he can.
“Where’d you get my keys?” Kane asks Ben, patting his obviously empty pocket.
“I found them in front of the stairs, you must have dropped them,” Ben replies. “I meant to give them back to you when you returned, but seeing William and Sophia stirred something in me to help. So here I am."
“Thank you,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He nods. “I called the police and told them there was a break-in, but I didn’t tell them what they’d find.”
I nod, understanding. At least someone will be along shortly to handle the situation down on the basement level.
“What of Olivia?” I ask, worried for the geneticist. Kane stops and listens.
“She’s fine,” Ben replies. “I told her to lock herself in your father’s office until the police came.”
His look of guilt is immediate. Ben’s mention of my dad’s office was unintentional. It was an involuntary comment and wasn’t meant to be anything more than that.
I try to shake off the sight of my murdered father but fail horribly. My breathing quickens and my sight narrows, the onslaught of a panic attack beginning.
A hand grabs my shoulder and forcibly turns me around. As I face the person, a hand slaps me across the face, but before I can react, a set of full lips meet mine. At that very instant, all of the anxiety running its way through my body, through my very soul, melts away. My eyes close as my heart rate regulates. The kiss from an angel.
I’m released, and I open my eyes to see Nicole staring into mine. “Thank you,” I say in a whisper.
“My pleasure,” she replies, smiling. “You ready?”
I nod and head for the front passenger seat, about to climb in. Nicole follows and goes to get in behind me, but is stopped.
“Nicole, wait.”
Ben and I look over to see Kane, SCAR in hand. He then offers the weapon to Nicole. She smiles and holsters her handguns, gladly accepting the upgrade to the assault rifle.
“What about you?” She asks him.
He draws one of his Desert Eagles and smiles. “I’ve still got these,” he says. “Plus, I can’t handle a rifle and drive at the same time, but I’m not bad with a pistol and a steering wheel.
