Chapter Thirty-One
Maximus
This was a language I understood – death and destruction.
The unique scent of fresh blood and used gun powder filled the air in a heady mix that spurred me on. We said no survivors, and every member of my team was keeping that promise.
“Fucker.” Jordan kicked a dead man on the floor. “He got his blood all over my hand tailored shirt.” He kicked him again, holding his white shirt out in disgust.
“You should have worn black,” I remarked, checking through the doorway into the next area of the house.
“Megan says I wear black too much,” he lamented, checking the magazine of his pistol, and changing it.
“Nothing in the outbuildings,” Jake said in my earpiece.
“Fuck,” I muttered, trailing my fingers through my hair.
“Some of the houses we raided had dungeons,” Jordan said. “They don’t want visitors to hear the screams.”
“Use the sonars,” I instructed. “I don’t care if you need to get shovels out.”
“Drones are up,” Ryan replied. “I’ll start analysing the building and land around it.”
Footsteps sounded in the next room, and I met Jordan’s gaze. “Shall we?” I asked, holding my hand out toward the door.
“Lovely,” Jordan replied. “Allow me to send them an invitation to our party.” He removed the pin from a hand grenade with his teeth, and stepped forward to throw it into the room. A loud boom shook the building, followed by the sounds of pain from men injured with shrapnel.
Jordan and I moved together into the next room, aiming at everything that moved. Someone jumped out at me, his arm snaking around my neck as he tried to stop me. I learnt to fight where there were no rules, and had no intention of letting anyone stop me from getting to Olivia.
I stamped on his foot, using his moment of distraction to drop my weight to break his lock on my throat. I spun around to face my attacker, my dagger sliding down from the holder on my forearm, and into my hand. He flinched back when I stabbed him in the eye, before slitting his throat.
“See?” I called out to Jordan. “Black is the way to go.” You couldn’t see his blood, even though I could feel the dampness on my shirt.
“Sorry we’re late, but there seemed to be a welcoming committee waiting for us at the front gate,” Caine wandered in with Roberto beside him.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I asked, nodding to my brother-in-law.
“You forget that I have associations with Olivia’s family. Roberto may be an asshole, but he is Olivia’s family, and I assure you that it is preferable to have him on your side instead of against you,” Caine replied.
“Thanks a lot,” Roberto said, rolling his eyes. “Just because we’re cousins doesn’t exempt you from a bullet in your ass. Have we found her?” He turned his attention to me.
“Our men are searching,” I replied, trying to resist the urge of strangling Caine and shooting Roberto.
I moved back when Roberto’s arm rose to point his gun, the bullet speeding past me. A man behind me fell back, his mouth still open when I turned around.
“Now that we’ve shared pleasantries, can we go and find my sister?” Roberto demanded, stalking forward.
“Cousin?” I queried, staring at Caine.
“Second cousin on our mother’s side,” he corrected. “I told you Olivia was like a sister to me.”
An alarm sounded on Jordan’s phone. “Megan is close,” he said, and both of us moved toward the door, stepping over the man Roberto had killed.
The next area of the house looked like an internal courtyard, with wooden stairs against one wall and ornate tiles covering the floor. A number of doors branched off the area.
Roberto paced around the circumference of the room, examining it as if he was an interior designer. Jordan had his phone in front of him, moving back and forward as if seeing something that was hidden from the rest of us.
He was walking to the rear corner under the stained glass window when a door to the right burst open, filling the room with irate men shooting at everything indiscriminately.
I moved behind a large marble fireplace, taking aim at anything that moved.
Roberto had a defensive position at the staircase, moving up it rapidly to use the bannisters as a shield, to allow him to fire down into the room.
Jordan had a gun in each hand, firing as he moved forward toward the door the men emerged from. Caine swung a machine gun from his back, aiming at the men, and moving it from side to side to scatter them, making it easier for Roberto and me to pick them off as they tried to get out of his way.
In the past, I had disliked the men my family had to associate with since we were all in the same organisation. Now, a deep hatred simmered inside me which demanded vengeance and death to those who had dared to take the woman who owned my worthless heart.
I didn’t realise there was a hidden doorway at the side of the fireplace until I was hit by a heavy object, and staggered forward.
I swung around to find a man who resembled an Ogre lumbering out from his hiding space.
He was around seven feet tall with fists that resembled the large hams Mum carved for Christmas lunch.
Another huge beast of a man emerged behind him into the room.
“Where the fuck did they come from?” Roberto asked, moving to my left side. “Are they breeding them here?” He shot the second beast, but he just kept moving forward even as blood stained his clothing on his right shoulder.
They were men, but there was something almost robotic about their movements, a vacant expression in their eyes that shouted they lacked humanity.
The first one swung his fist at me, but he was slow, and I ducked to move behind him, aiming my blow directly at his kidneys. Punching a tree would have been less painful than my knuckles connecting with him.
I slid one of my daggers from its holder, stabbing an incapacitation area to stop him. The sharp blade penetrated deeply, but there was no reaction to suggest he even felt it – almost as if his pain receptors didn’t exist.
Roberto shot the other one again, his head tilted to the side to study the man as if he was a science experiment who fascinated him.
“What the actual fuck are they?” Roberto demanded, shooting him again in the chest.
“Maybe aim for the head next time,” Jordan called from across the room, kicking another beast in the head to prove his point. He didn’t react, just continuing to pursue Jordan.
There were several of them now in the room.
Roberto’s next shot echoed too close to my ear, the creature I was fighting lashing out again.
“Whatever these things are, they’re not human,” Roberto shouted. “I just shot it in the head and he’s still on his feet!”
“They bleed,” I shouted. “That means they’re human, and can be killed.”
Caine used his machine gun, aiming at one of them who had entered through the door at the side of the fireplace.
The soldier kept moving forward, and I thought it was immortal until its knees buckled, and it fell forward.
Caine took the opportunity to attack him, using a long dagger to stab him repeatedly in the eye.
I shot the one fighting me to give me time to escape for a moment to rethink this.
“I heard rumours of these super soldiers,” Caine said as he stood up. “They reinforce their bodies with implants, but there is vulnerability in the eyes of every creature.”
I spun to the monster lumbering after me. There was no finesse with him, no emotion in his eyes. I aimed for the face, targeting the eyes as I emptied magazine after magazine into him. Eventually, he stopped moving forward, and fell backward.
There was an eeriness to the situation as I had witnessed death many times. It was normally accompanied by fear, pain, and some sort of sound.
I spun toward the loud bang behind me. Jordan stood over the body of the one he had been fighting.
“A grenade in the hood of their top seems to work,” he said, poking the dead man with his toe.
Roberto fired at the one he was fighting, shouting for help as another two emerged from the previously hidden door beside the fireplace.
This time, I aimed directly for their heads, while Jordan and Caine moved in from either side like a pair of velociraptors.
Roberto released a war cry, launching himself forward to knock the huge man back against the wall.
He pulled a dagger from the back of his belt, slitting his throat before he stabbed him through the eye.
I had run out of ammunition, and instead of changing the magazine, I dropped the gun, retrieving a thin metal wire from my pocket.
It locked into a tight necklace around the throat of the super soldier to eliminate his ability to breathe.
Every living being needed oxygen to survive, and whatever these things were, they were no different.
He didn’t try to dislodge it, didn’t try to save himself as he moved forward, his vacant gaze locked on me. There was something terrifying about facing an adversary who didn’t fear death, felt no pain, and had no other focus than to kill you.
Caine studied the last one, moving out of its way as it tried to pummel him with its fists of steel. He moved behind it, using the knuckle dusters on his hands to hit key areas that would cripple most opponents.
The face of the one who had been stalking me turned a deep red, his breathing ragged as the garrot stole his ability to breathe. He tried to reach me, but his body began to spasm, his arms shaking uncontrollably.
“It’s a pity that these first generation soldiers only respond to simple commands,” Brendan Marino said from the doorway. “They have the ability to beat someone to death, but are not great with using weapons. They are fixing that with the next generation.”
Starved of oxygen, the man’s knees buckled. He fell forward without trying to save himself, the thud echoing around the room. Caine terminated the last one with a flourish of knife skills.
“They cost a lot of money,” Brendan continued. “I’ll forward the bill for their replacement to you.”