Desperate Rendition - Chapter 16

Taylor held Kara tightly, relief washing over him as he felt her safe in his arms. For a long moment, neither said anything else. For a moment, Kara let her tough girl act down and allowed herself to be the vulnerable, scared young adult she was.

The spell was broken by the sound of Bonnie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. By the time she got to the bottom, Kara had withdrawn from the embrace and was wiping away tears.

“Good to see you’re alive and kicking, kid,” Bonnie said.

Kara looked at her and then back to him with a questioning expression.

“This is Bonnie,” Taylor said.

That was enough. Kara had watched Taylor’s obsessive search for Bonnie for almost six months and had heard him talk about her.

“Really?” she said, surprised.

“Yes. She is why I headed to South America. She’s turning herself over to be a state’s witness. She’s also the reason we found you and who shot Foster here.”

“Huh. Well, thanks. I guess.”

Bonnie nodded, a hint... something across her face. Maybe satisfaction.

“I need you to get back to Whitaker on your own,” he told Kara.

“What about you?” Bonnie asked. “What’s your next move?”

“I’m going to have a chat with the senator. Until Ellsworth is dealt with, this isn’t over.”

“Then I’m coming with you. Hotaru’s going to have enough guys; you’re going to need help.”

“No,” Taylor said firmly, shaking his head. “I’ve already put you in enough danger. You’ve helped me get Kara back, and I appreciate that. But you’re needed to make a lot of cases stick, put a lot of bad people where they belong.”

Bonnie opened her mouth to argue, but Taylor cut her off.

“I may not be a by-the-book guy,” he said, “but I know that much.”

“I was not done. I also need you to take her with you,” he said to Kara, stabbing his thumb at Bonnie. “Take her to Whitaker and make sure none of the twitchier agents shoot her before Whitaker can take charge.”

“Really? You are going to send me off with your kid?”

“Yes. But let me make something crystal clear. If anything happens to Kara, anything at all, there will not be a place on this earth where you can hide from me. Understood?”

“Look, Taylor. I am done. I am tired of the life. The constant running, the always being someone else. But even if I was not, it is not like I can ever go back to it. Once word gets out that I am turning state’s witness, my other clients will not be able to risk me staying alive. I will be running for the rest of my life. This deal... it is my only way out now. I would not hurt her, you know. That is not... that is not who I am.”

“I hope that is true.”

“I can take care of myself,” Kara said, reaching down and taking Foster’s dropped gun.

She pulled back the slide, checked that there was a round in the chamber before carefully sliding it back in place and latching the safety, sliding it into her waistband.

“Take one of their cars,” he told Bonnie, holding out his hand for the rifle Bonnie was still holding.

“Sure,” she said, handing over the weapon. “And thanks, Taylor. For everything.”

Taylor nodded and walked out of the house with them, exchanging a last glance with Kara before they headed their separate ways.

***

Ellsworth’s cabin was in northern Ohio, almost twenty miles out from the closest town, essentially in the middle of a forest. He owned almost two square miles deep in the forest, ostensibly for hunting. In the center of the property sat a fairly large log hunting cabin, although Taylor was certain it was not like the kind of cabins average people could afford. For guys like Ellsworth, their “roughing it” homes tended to still be much nicer than the homes that average people live in every day.

There was a long dirt road that led up to the property off a small country road. Taylor parked well down from that in the early morning hours, crossing Ellsworth’s neighbor’s property through the trees and onto his, since if these guys he had hired were any good, they would be watching the private road and have cameras up and down where it entered onto the county road.

The trees were pretty thick, especially as he got away from the road and deeper into the forest, which made visibility bad. Thankfully, Lopez was on the ball and had some night vision gear in the SUV. It was part of a haul Taylor had funded when he had set up the company, and he had been strapped enough that Lopez had done the best he could, which meant civilian level equipment. He missed the stuff he used in the service, but it was still better than wandering around in the dark.

Taylor, loaded up with what equipment was still left in the SUV, made his way slowly through the trees, carefully placing each step and listening hard. He could see well enough, his night vision goggles casting everything in an eerie green glow.

He hit their perimeter still far enough from the house that he could not see it yet as he caught sight of a lone guard, rifle held loosely in his hand, walking what seemed to be a circular path around the property as some sort of patrol. He was doing a good sweep, left to right, hold, right to left, and repeat, stopping from time to time to listen.

He was not wearing any gear, probably relying on his natural night vision, which made sense. NVDs limited your peripheral vision and were a pain to wear for extended periods of time, often causing neck pain and sometimes eye strain. You could do it if you were dedicated enough, or if you had a sergeant who rode your ass every time you tried to do a patrol without it, but private guys like this, they would cut corners. Even good ones.

It suggested that they had not gone into alert yet. Taylor was still in the window they gave him and they had not realized Foster was dead yet. If they were expecting him, these guys would be better equipped for sure.

Taylor watched him for several minutes, noting the pattern of his movements, shadowing him slowly as he made a wide circuit of the property. When it was clear he was alone out here, Taylor began to circle in, getting closer to the guy. When the guard’s back was turned, Taylor closed the rest of the distance in a rush.

His hand shot out, clamping over the man’s mouth as his other arm locked around the guard’s throat in a vise-like grip. The guard struggled, releasing his weapon to grab at Taylor’s forearm, trying to relieve the pressure that was keeping him from breathing.

More importantly, it was putting pressure on the carotid artery. Cutting off air supply can take up to two minutes to get someone to blackout, but it only took about eleven pounds of pressure and ten seconds to make someone blackout. The guy did better than most; he made it a full eleven seconds of struggling before his body went limp.

Taylor dragged the unconscious body into a thick patch of undergrowth, concealing it from view, just in case someone else was on the same patrol path. He paused, listening intently for any sign that the scuffle had been noticed. The forest remained silent.

Satisfied, Taylor continued his approach, skirting the edge of the treeline where it thinned out enough that the exterior lights from the cabin might make him stand out a bit more. As he neared the fifty-yard mark from the cabin, he spotted another guard standing watch. This one was motionless, attention focused outward.

Taylor knelt for several minutes, waiting to see if he was on patrol or moving, but he was not. As with the other guard, he had his gun unslung and in his hand, but loosely. These were men who had been standing guard for days and had no credible threat to prepare for. Even the staunchest professionals became lax in such conditions.

Taylor drew his knife and ghosted forward, closing the distance inch by agonizing inch. He moved slow, but kept ready to dash the final distance if he needed to, but the guard remained oblivious, his posture relaxed.

Just as Taylor prepared to strike, a twig snapped somewhere to his right. The guard’s head snapped around, hand dropping to his weapon. Taylor lunged, driving the knife up and under the man’s ribs. The guard’s cry of alarm died in his throat, cut off by the blade piercing his heart.

As Taylor lowered the body, movement caught his eye. Another guard appeared from the treeline to his right. Probably the cause of the snapped twig. They looked at each other across the distance, and time seemed to stretch.

Taylor’s hand flew to his holster as the guard brought up his weapon, but he was slow, maybe stunned by seeing someone in tactical gear and NVDs standing over the body of his comrade. His pistol cleared and got on target first, two loud bangs breaking the still silence of the night, sending the guard toppling over backward.

For a heartbeat, the silence returned. But only for a heartbeat. Shouts erupted from the direction of the cabin, followed by the sound of men running his way. Taylor cursed under his breath. So much for the element of surprise.

Taylor ducked behind a large oak as three figures charged through the trees toward him. Taylor waited until they were close, then leaned out, squeezing off two rapid shots. The first guard dropped instantly, a neat hole in his forehead. The second stumbled, clutching low on his abdomen, taking two staggering steps to the left before collapsing.

The third guard made a mistake, hesitating at the sudden attack, giving Taylor the split second he needed. His third shot caught the man in the right hip, spinning him around. As he fell, his finger tightened on the trigger. A wild burst of automatic fire ripped through the underbrush.

Taylor felt a sharp sting across his bicep. He ignored it, focusing on the wounded guard scrambling away toward the cabin, dragging himself through the underbrush. Taylor brought his gun up, but the man was crawling fast and had gotten enough trees and bushes in the way to make hitting him difficult, and he was shouting his head off.

Taylor could see flashlights moving in his direction. He could not stay here.

Taylor backed up, moving clockwise away from the dead men, going deeper into the trees, crouched low and using foliage for cover. He could hear the guards slowing and fanning out as they got to the bodies. Taylor paused, letting them pass by his position. He counted six men, moving in pairs. Once they were far enough ahead, he moved forward, closing the distance.

The rearmost pair paused, conferring in low voices as Taylor got close enough to hear.

“I do not like this, man. They said she was good.”

His partner grunted agreement. “Yeah, but there is only one of her. We find her and we end her. Simple as that.”

Taylor’s lips curved in a humorless smile. They thought it was Bonnie. That was fine with him for now. He raised his pistol, sighting carefully in the green-tinged world of his night vision. Two quick shots, and both guards crumpled without a sound.

Shouts of alarm rang out as the other teams realized he had gotten behind them. Taylor was already moving, sprinting through the trees to a new position. Gunfire erupted behind him, stitching a line of destruction through the forest.

Bark exploded from trees. Leaves shredded under the hail of bullets. Taylor kept low, zigzagging as he ran. He heard the tell-tale zip of bullets passing close by.

He dove behind a fallen log, rolling to his feet on the other side. More shouts, mostly the separate groups trying to coordinate to find him.

Taylor took a moment to catch his breath and check his weapon. Four rounds left in the magazine. Two full magazines left after that. The sounds of their movements grew closer.

Taylor unclipped a flash-bang from his vest. He pulled the pin, counted to two, and lobbed it high over the log. He clamped his eyes shut and covered his ears. The world went white. Even through his closed eyelids, the flash seared his retinas. The concussive boom a moment later rattled his teeth.

The men screamed, giving disoriented shouts and curses. Taylor vaulted over the log, pistol up and tracking. Two guards stumbled blindly, hands pressed to their eyes. He dropped them both with quick double-taps. As they fell, Taylor was already moving again, sprinting for a cluster of trees he had spotted earlier.

More gunfire chased him, wild and uncoordinated.

Taylor skidded behind the trees just as a fresh volley of bullets thudded into the trunks. He crouched low, controlling his breathing. In. Out. Slow and steady.

“Where is he?” a voice shouted nearby. “Does anyone have eyes on?”

“No idea,” someone else replied.

He peeked around the edge of the trees. Two guards were advancing cautiously. They moved well together, covering each other’s blind spots, but it was hard to cover three-sixty, like in a forest. They had positioned themselves with their backs to the thick undergrowth. Taylor popped up, dropping them both.

Six more down. He had made a ton of racket. He started moving slow again as he displaced. Whoever was left was coming after him. He had been moving left for a while, away from the group of three and then the six more. If they were smart, they would try to go further left and cut him off.

So he moved right.

Taylor was back to moving quietly, but there weren’t any more shouts. No more sound of people running. The initial rush of combat had passed and they had gotten smart, slowed down, trying to control the tempo. Hoping he would get impatient and make a big move, exposing himself.

Taylor slowed, keeping low. Now was not the time to act rashly or get stupid. If they went slow, he would go slower. He continued to move right. A rustle to his left caught his attention. Taylor froze. He watched as a figure emerged from the darkness, moving carefully.

This guy was better than the others, that was for sure. He was sweeping methodically, weapon sweeping with his eyes, always pointing where he was looking, his feet moving one in front of the other.

The man paused, his head tilting slightly as if listening for something. Taylor held his breath, not daring to move a muscle. After what felt like an eternity, the guy continued forward, passing within feet of Taylor’s position.

As soon as the guy passed him, Taylor made his move. He stepped out from his cover, moving right to get further behind the guy, raising his weapon. The guy spun impossibly fast. His gun came up as he dropped into a crouch. They fired at almost the same time. Taylor’s bullet went just over him, where his chest would have been. The guy’s went wide, to the left of Taylor, where he had been standing a moment ago.

Taylor dropped and rolled behind a large log, bullets ripping into it as he did, the rotting wood still good enough to protect him. The guy was laying down fire, which would have worked if he had backup, but he did not. One of him meant he was just burning ammo. Taylor rolled right, further down the log, letting the guy spray splinters, a full bullet finding its way through to where Taylor no longer was.

When he heard the telltale click of an empty magazine, he made his move. He lifted up from behind the log, squeezing off three rapid shots. The guy, who Taylor was starting to think was their boss Hotaru, was already moving, but Taylor had accounted for it this time. One bullet caught Hotaru in the shoulder, spinning him around.

Instead of fighting it and remaining a target, the guy went with the force, allowing himself to be thrown behind some trees. Taylor just started to move forward to finish him when he heard movement in the trees around him. More guards were closing in, trying to flank his position. He needed to end this quickly.

Taylor stood and fired twice more at Hotaru’s position. As soon as the shots left his gun, he was moving, sprinting to his right.

There was pursuit behind him, but he had bought himself a few precious seconds. He did not want to just run, though. He needed to end this. Taylor pivoted, bringing his weapon up and dropping into a crouch as another guy came bursting through the undergrowth, firing as he came through.

Taylor dropped and rolled, feeling the heat of bullets whizzing past. He came up on one knee, squeezing off two rapid shots. The first went wide, but the second caught the guard square in the chest. The man stumbled, his rifle clattering to the ground as he fell.

There was not a sound of anyone else after him. Taylor repositioned and listened, but no one was coming. It could be a fake out, their waiting for him to make the first move, but Taylor did not think so. If that one guy was their boss, it meant most had already come for him and lost.

Taylor moved toward the cabin and saw two more guys, one standing and one sitting on his butt, legs extended in front of him. The guy on the ground had to be the one he shot in the hip earlier. The wounded man was holding a last line of defense. Taylor pulled off the NVDs and dropped them. He could grab it later, but there were too many lights on around the cabin; it was whiting the optics out.

A pile of split firewood near the cabin’s corner caught his attention. It was not much, but it would have to do. He circled around until it was between him and the two guys. There was no way of sneaking toward it, though. He would need more cover than that. So he sprinted for it. The guards spotted him, opening fire. Wood chips exploded around Taylor as he dove behind the pile.

“I will cover you. Move in!”

Taylor did not give him a chance. He popped up and squeezed off two quick shots. The mobile guard went down, clutching his throat, and then dropped down behind the woodpile again as the injured guy peppered it with bullets.

Instead of popping back up, Taylor rolled sideways and fired twice. One hit the doorframe, the other smashed into the guy’s shoulder. The rifle skittered from the guy’s hands as he fell over and started to crawl away from Taylor. He only made it a few inches before he stopped moving, only moaning for another second before becoming completely still.

Taylor was just standing up when the leader guy he had injured before leaned out of the doorway and fired twice. Both shots went wide, but Taylor dove back behind the woodpile again all the same. Taylor remembered the guy, Hotaru, was shooting with his other hand last time, the one he had been hit in.

That explained the wide shots. He was shooting off hand.

For a minute, there was no more fire. Just as Taylor was thinking about taking a peek, he heard movement and a grunt. Taylor got up on one knee, leading with his gun as he crouched, ready to shoot.

And then he saw the beer bottle sailing through the air, arcing over Taylor’s position. More importantly, he saw the rag sticking out of the end of it, burning.

“Shit!” Taylor rolled away from the woodpile just as the Molotov cocktail shattered against it.

Flames erupted, engulfing the logs in seconds. Hotaru burst from the cabin, pistol raised. Taylor scrambled to his feet, bringing his own weapon to bear. They fired simultaneously. Hotaru’s offhand shot went wide again. Taylor was not even sure where it went. Somewhere in the forest behind him.

Taylor’s bullet went low, on account of the quick shot, but it still hit, smashing in just below the knee. Hotaru gave out a cry of pain and fell over, the gun, not held tightly in his offhand, wet bounced out of his hand, landing a few steps away.

Hotaru reached out for it, missing once and grabbing dirt. He reached again … and Taylor’s foot smashed down on it, causing another scream of pain. Hotaru rolled over, looked up, and froze as he saw Taylor’s gun. He put his hands up and looked at Taylor with a pleading expression.

Taylor did not hesitate to pull the trigger.

Hotaru gave one last, uncontrolled twitch and dropped still in the dirt. Taylor ignored him. The guy had sold his services to a criminal, and this was what happened.

Stepping over the body, Taylor took two strides toward the cabin door and kicked it in. Taylor moved into the room carefully, but the only person in the main room was Ellsworth, sitting on a couch, trying very hard to project an air of confidence. Taylor had looked up his picture on the plane, but even without that, he would have known who the guy was. He looked like power and money.

It was not just that, though. He was trying to hide it, but Taylor could see the guy was nervous.

“Agent Taylor, I presume.”

“The jig is up, Senator,” Taylor replied coldly. “Bonnie is with the FBI. She has already started handing over evidence of what you did. I know guys like you. If you did this, you have definitely done other illegal shit too. No one gets this rich and powerful and keeps it as long as you have without doing something dirty. The FBI is going to dig into your past, and they will find it all.”

“You are right, I have done a lot of things in my past, but none of that matters. You will call off the investigation before it ever gets there and make sure I do not have any more problems.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I can make you a very rich man, Mr. Taylor. And because if you do not, your wife, that teenage whore, and your spawn will all be dead. Not just them. Your wife has a sister and I will make sure she is taken care of too, just to make it crystal clear to anyone else who thinks they can cross me what will happen if they do.”

“You will not be able to do much from behind bars, Senator.”

Ellsworth laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “I am a senior US senator, not some common thug. I will be under investigation, sure, but not locked up. They will give me a chance to defend myself. That means time to ensure anyone who might testify against me... well, let’s say they will not be able to.”

“Things work differently for people like you, is that it?”

“They always have.”

“Then maybe I should just kill you and end it right here.”

Ellsworth laughed again. “You cannot be that stupid. If you do that, the full weight of the US government will come down on you and your wife. They will crush you like a bug. Think about it. Do you really want to pay that price?”

Taylor did not say anything. Ellsworth was probably right. Maybe not against Whitaker, but there would be repercussions. He had already gone pretty far by not taking Bonnie in, but if he killed Ellsworth … it could mean jail time.

But Taylor also was not the kind of man to back down.

“I have paid worse.”

In one motion, Taylor lifted his gun and fired.