Chapter Six #2
The goons muttered and chuckled in agreement. Garcia reached across to grab his cigar, puffing on it before blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the once-fresh morning air.
With my heart thundering and adrenaline coursing through my body, I swiped the screen of my Infolink, pulling up the body heat scanner.
As promised, the only signatures registering outside were the three men standing before me, but several more flashed inside the mansion.
I swiftly counted them – perhaps ten men, all told?
That seemed manageable. I crept forward a step, raising my gun and sucking in a deep breath as I trained the barrel at the head of the goon closest to me.
Three, two, one… I squeezed the trigger and all hell broke loose.
The goon I shot dropped like a stone, his skull exploding and spraying blood and brain matter all over the pristine patio.
Garcia’s eyes bulged and he dove onto the floor, cowering behind the sun lounger.
The other goon reached for his gun without a flicker of hesitation, aiming it at me and firing off several rounds.
These guys were professionals, no doubt about it.
His aim was good, but hidden as I was behind the shrubbery, he didn’t manage to land a shot. Yeah, he was good, but I was better.
Quick as a flash, I jumped from my hiding spot and released three more shots – two to the chest and one to the head. Kill shot. More blood went flying and the second bodyguard fell backwards onto the lounger, the plastic legs cracking beneath the force of his body.
I was using a silencer, but my friends here weren’t. My ears were ringing from the gunfire, and I knew I had seconds before the rest of the security Garcia employed were hot on my arse. I had to make this quick. I strode across the blood-splattered patio, kicking the furniture from my path.
“?Ayúdame!” he yelled, eyes wide with fear.
“Oh, shut it,” I grumbled.
My fingers fished inside my vest pocket, retrieving a syringe, pre-loaded with a strong sedative. Despite how Garcia fought against me, I easily overpowered him and sunk the sharp needle into his neck. Within seconds, his expression fell blank and his eyes rolled back into his head.
Okay, step one down. The back door flew open as three more thugs ran into the fray and I gritted my teeth, raising my pistol.
Excellent, I needed more target practice.
The first of them I made short work of, rolling to duck behind a concrete barbeque for cover as I reloaded.
Chips of stone and dust flew through the air as the men opened fire on my position.
I held still, counting their rounds as they shot at me, waiting to strike.
Soon enough, my opportunity arose. Both men paused to reload their guns.
It was only a split second, but that’s all I needed.
I jumped up, nailing one right through the head and spraying his friend and another unsuspecting guard that was rushing to join the party with his brains.
Capitalising on their shock, I took both of them down before skidding across the patio back to Garcia.
He was completely out of it, but of course I couldn’t just leave him here.
I holstered my gun with a scowl, clenching my jaw as I heaved him up, draping his rotund body over my shoulders.
With silent thanks to all the weight training I’d done, I braced, sucking in a breath before pushing up onto my feet, thighs quaking from the effort.
Garcia had to be at least one-hundred and fifteen kilos. That was a new PB, for sure.
Another bodyguard skidded out onto the patio, but with my hands quite literally full of Garcia, I wasn’t quick enough. He fired off a round and pain splintered my chest, radiating out through my ribs.
“Fuck!” I hissed, staggering and very nearly losing my hold on him.
I glanced down my body, relieved to see the thug’s bullet lodged in the Kevlar of my suit. That was going to leave one hell of a bruise, maybe even a broken rib or two, but I would live and that’s all that mattered.
Steadying myself, I snatched my gun from its holster and made quick work of my assailant before hurrying as quickly as I was able to the front of the house.
More voices yelled out in Spanish, hot on my heels.
My eyes locked on the sports car, a Lamborghini Urus SUV upon closer inspection, and I staggered over to it.
Please say he was dumb enough to— My eyes landed on the keys, still sitting in the centre console.
Bingo! There were backseats, but there was no way I was going to be able to squeeze Garcia through the less-than-practical, narrow doors.
That was no concern, though. With a grunt of effort, I tugged on the boot, surprised to see more than adequate space for a fat lump like Garcia, and unceremoniously dumped him inside before slamming the boot door closed.
Step two, done. Now all that was left was to—
Bullets pinged, bouncing around the driveway and off the once-pristine paintwork of the car.
I ducked behind it for cover, creeping to the driver’s door.
As I tugged it open, glass shattered, raining down on me as a bullet flew through the window.
I clambered inside, pressing the ignition button.
The engine roared to life and without bothering to belt myself in, I flicked it into sport mode and floored the accelerator.
The Lamborghini’s wheels squealed, a cloud of smoke billowing out behind the car as it shot forward.
In a hail of gunfire, I brought the car around the large fountain at the centre of the driveway, but contrary to the thug’s expectations, I didn’t make for the hills.
With my teeth gritted so firmly I could feel my pulse thrumming in my neck, I swung the vehicle around until I was pointed right back at the group of men that had gathered outside the mansion.
“One, two, three, four, five—” I counted under my breath. “Great, the gang’s all here.”
I put my foot to the floor, ploughing straight through the carefully manicured topiary hedges.
Deafening thuds rang out as three of the men crashed into the bumper of the Lamborghini, tumbling to the side and across the bonnet.
Only two narrowly managed to avoid the collision.
A car like this wasn’t fitted with a manual handbrake, but thankfully I knew how to do the next best thing.
I jerked the steering sharply, taking advantage of the soft soil beneath the tyres as I forced the car to skid and swing its back end out.
I stamped on the brakes, the Lamborghini jolting as it came to a sudden stop and my body slammed against the door.
With the car facing the two thugs I’d missed, I leant out through the smashed driver’s side window and fired off three rounds into each of them.
They hadn’t stood a chance, both of them falling to the ground in an instant.
Smoke billowed from the barrel of my gun, and I took my time reloading it as I nudged the door open.
Crawling away across the grass was one of the men who hadn’t been killed outright by the impact of the car, just badly maimed.
He cried out in terror as I strode over to him, my pistol clicking as I cocked it.
I didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate. With three loud bangs, I put him out of his misery. Step three.
With the last of my assailants thwarted, I tugged my face covering down, taking a minute to catch my breath.
If it wasn’t for the death and destruction all around, it would have been a nice day.
The sun had fully risen now and was hot against the black Kevlar of my suit.
As my heart rate returned to normal, I tapped my earpiece.
“All threats neutralised, target acquired. Get me the fuck out of here.”
“On my way, Jugs,” Hangman replied. “I’m refuelled. ETA in…” He trailed off as he glanced at the dials in his jet. “Three minutes.”