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Boomer's Fall Page 2
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It worked for a few seconds, stunning more than hurting him. When he realized what she was doing, he pried her hands away, pulled her arms behind her back and held them there. Sam struggled against the pain, digging her heels into his back.
“Smoke, report.”
Kong’s voice was nothing more than a muffle in her ear.
Do not struggle.
Instinctively Sam obeyed her guide’s command, relaxing her upper body and falling limp. This stunned him. He watched her for a second not sure what to do next. Sam kept her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as her body hung. When he released her arms, Sam dropped one arm down letting it dangle while she pulled two more darts from her pants pocket with the other.
In one of her trademark lightning moves, she flung herself up, darts in hand and stabbed them into his neck. The surprise in his eyes seemed almost comical, the way they grew wide while his mouth hung open.
“You lose,” she hissed in his face and then dropped to the floor, rolling off to the side before he toppled onto her.
He crashed to his knees and then fell face forward. Sam wasted no time pulling two zip ties from one of her many pockets and cinching his hands behind his back. Out of spite she pulled them extra tight and then moved onto victim number one. Satisfied that both Russians were out cold and secured she stumbled back into the hall to catch her breath.
“Smoke, report.”
This time Kong’s voice was filled with irritation. She keyed her mic, “Both targets down and secure,” she panted.
Silence filled the radio. He would be concerned and worried but she couldn’t help that, not at the moment. Right now she needed to gather her wits to finish the mission.
“Are you okay?” His tone changed, he wasn’t in work mode now. He was in lover mode. That soft, tender voice sent chills up her spine.
Sam let the sensual feeling flow through her from head to toe and then responded. “I’m fine. We won’t have much time before they’re missed.”
“You sure?”
“Kong, we don’t have time. We need to end this now while we still have surprise on our side.”
“Smoke’s right, let’s roll,” Boomer interrupted. “I have the cases positioned, grenades ready.”
“Okay. Boomer, make sure you get that gas in there with the stun grenades. This will work as long as everything is timed right.”
“Roger.”
“Ricochet, give us two minutes. If none of them are out of the building at that point, they won’t be coming out. Then get your ass down here.”
“Roger.”
Sam straightened, took a deep breath and waited for Kong to question her once more before giving the go.
“Sam, you sure you’re all right?”
She smiled. He never disappointed her. “Affirmative. Let’s get this party started.”
“I have me a nice shot at the control panel. I’m bettin’ if I pop a round or two into it they lose lights,” Ricochet said.
“Smoke, will you be okay if we go dark?” Kong asked.
“Affirmative,” she responded. In fact, she rather liked the idea. She worked better in the dark.
“Okay, Boomer you ready?”
“Roger.”
“Smoke?”
“Affirmative.”
“Then put your dancing shoes on team, we’re a go.”
With that, Ricochet fired two rounds into the circuit box. The bullets pierced through glass shattering it into fine splinters and then found their mark. The metal panel covering the breakers caved as the ammunition ripped through it. Sparks flew, electricity popped and the building went dark.
Boomer tossed two stun grenades through a window followed by three more. Blinding strobe lights flickered inside the building along with a bang that would leave the targets temporarily deaf. Strangely unaffected by the flickering light or the ear piercing sound, Boomer heaved three gas canisters inside with a smile.
Sam made it down the stairs into the large empty room and then pressed her back against the wall, disappearing into the darkness. The gas began to burn her nose and lungs, choking her. Even through her mask she found no relief from it. Deciding it was better to wait she slid along the wall and crept back up the stairs where the air was more breathable.
She could hear yelling, gunfire and mass confusion below her then the sound of gunfire outside. A chill ran down her spine.
“Ricochet, report,” she coughed into her radio.
“Got one tryin’ to make an escape.”
“Smoke, you okay?” Kong asked urgently.
“Boomer’s gas is a bitch if I ever met one. I’m fine but it is total chaos down there.”
“They’ll end up taking each other out before they go down from the gas. You stay out of the way until it dies down,” Kong ordered.
“That’s the plan,” she choked.
Seconds later the gunfire and yelling stopped. She inched her way back down the stairs and peeked around the corner. Thick, white gas drifted through the room making it impossible to determine if anyone was still on their feet.
“I can’t see a damn thing in here but it got quiet fast,” she reported to her team.
“Ricochet, anything?” Kong asked.
“Nothin’. Quiet as church.”
“Boomer, you got anything?”
“I’m seeing the same thing Smoke is. Nothing.”
“We give it a few more seconds and then start making our way in.”
As soon as Kong stopped speaking the front door flew open, the Taser case fired long, thick bolts of crackling electricity across the doorway. A high-pitched scream echoed in the night air then it grew silent.
Boomer’s sinister chuckle whispered through the team’s radios.
“Damn Boomer, you’re twisted,” Ricochet squawked. “You need a hobby.”
Sam thought the same thing but avoided voicing it.
“Let’s move in. Watch your backs. If this one was still on his feet we could have others on their feet. Smoke, you’re our eyes until we get in.”
“Roger.” She crouched down, pulled her automatic out of its holster and began a slow crawl through the room.
Every few feet she came across a body unconscious on the floor. Knowing it was better to deal with them now than deal with them when they woke, she pulled two zip ties from her pocket and secured limp hands.
A scuffle sounded off to her left. She froze in position and scanned the area but saw nothing but lingering gas. Is it safe she asked inside her head?
Two still stand.
Sam bit her bottom lip, keyed her mic and spoke as soft as she could. “We have movement. Two targets up and moving.”
“Roger that. Give me a position,” Kong replied.
She couldn’t see where she was much less tell them where to go. I need help.
Stone silence was her answer. She knew what that meant. It had to play out the way it was meant to play out. Interference wasn’t allowed.
“Okay gentlemen, we’ve got a situation. I can’t tell where I am so I can’t tell you where they are and I’m not getting any help on this one.” Sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades as it always did when things became tricky.
“I’m inside. Hold your position.” Boomer’s deep, stern voice gave her a bit of comfort. She didn’t like not being able to see through the gas. Darkness was different, she had excellent night vision but this was unnerving.
“I’m on my way,” Ricochet said.
“Give me two seconds and I’m in,” Kong growled.
Sam sank further down on the floor and listened. Shuffling feet made their way toward her. If she stayed where she was, the target would think she was just another body on the floor and pass by. That was her hope anyway.
“I’m left of the front door about three feet in,” Kong informed them.
“Right of the front door, center,” Boomer whispered.
They both waited for Sam to reply. When she didn’t Kong wiped his sweaty forehead on his shirt slee
ve. “Give me a click if you’re all right, Smoke.”
Sam keyed her mic once.
“Company?”
Sam keyed once more. The target was inches away from her. She could see the toes of his black, leather shoes where the gas was starting to lift. Her eyes burned and watered. It was becoming difficult to keep them open and even more difficult to keep her brain focused and functioning.
This needed to end before they all succumbed to the gas. She reached down into her pocket, her fingers fumbling until she slid out a dart. Using what strength she could muster she jammed it into his calf. His scream of pain echoed through the room. Instead of falling on his knees he reached down, caught Sam’s wrist and jerked her up off the floor.
She dangled liked a stuffed toy from his hand. Her blurry eyes couldn’t focus on his face or anything else for that matter. Blindly she swung out with her free hand hoping to connect with his jaw or nose. Instead she swung at empty air. Her breath seized when his large hand wrapped around her throat.
Sam gasped, trying desperately to draw air into her lungs. With her free hand she pried at his fingers to release his grip but to no avail. Her legs kicked out, making contact with his chest. His grip loosened enough for her to squirm free and drop to the floor. Her gasps alerted the team.
“Smoke’s in trouble,” Boomer alerted.
Before she knew what was happening, Sam felt the toe of her target’s shoe connect with her jaw. Cruel, unrelenting pain exploded in her face as her body slid across the floor. Something tall and immovable stopped her momentum. Boomer’s hand reached down, caught her by the collar and jerked her off the floor.
“You okay, babe?” he asked in a gentle but fierce tone.
“I will be when that son of a bitch is trying to breathe with my foot down his throat.” Sam jerked away from Boomer’s grip, focused on the blurry blob standing five feet away and charged.
With the growl of an angry animal she launched herself in the air, her feet pointed straight at his head and struck gold. The large man’s head snapped back, blood spewed from his mouth and nose and then he crumpled to the floor. Sam wasn’t finished. The pain throbbing in her face fueled her anger.
She jumped on top of his barreled chest and began pounding her fists into his face.
Samantha, you must stop.
Sam ignored her spirit guide’s voice and continued to pummel the man. When Boomer’s hand snagged her fist before it could make another blow, she turned and blasted him in the mouth. Her fist no sooner landed when she realized what she’d done.
“Oh my God, Boomer, I’m sorry.”
Boomer ran the back of his hand across his bloody lip. He didn’t say a word, just stared at her with steely eyes.
Sam staggered. Boomer reached out and grabbed her by the arm. He opened his mouth to say something when a blow to the back of his head stopped him. Sam watched as he dropped to the floor. Behind him stood another large, muscle-bound man. Without thinking she pulled her pistol and aimed it straight at his head.
As quick as lightning he smacked it from her hands. Sam bared her teeth, made a low guttural sound, crouched and sprang up into his groin. When he doubled over she readied for another attack. Two pairs of hands grabbed her arms and hauled her back.
“Stay where ya are big man. You don’t wanna die like this.” Ricochet warned.
Kong dragged Sam to the front door, pushed her up against the wall and leaned into her. “Stay,” he ordered and then waited for her to settle herself before returning to Ricochet.
“She all right?” he asked.
“Hell if I know. Something isn’t right with her though,” Kong said handcuffing the Russian.
“Never saw her act like that before. First she pops Boomer in the mouth then allows her weapon to be taken away.”
“I know Rico, I know. You go check Boomer, see if that hard head of his is okay.”
“It ain’t his head I’m worried about, it’s his face. She nailed him good.” Ricochet laughed and then crossed to Boomer.
Sam slipped outside into the night air letting the freshness fill her lungs and clear her eyes and head. She couldn’t believe she’d hit Boomer and when he looked at her with those cold eyes she thought he’d hit her back.
“We’ve got everything secure. Call Cannon and tell him to send in cleanup.” Sam nodded and then pulled out her cell phone.
Kong placed his hand over hers trying to steady her shaking. When she was able to hold the phone without dropping it she nodded to him, squinted and began to dial her uncle’s number and nearly sobbed when she heard his voice. Instead she gathered her wits and spoke calmly.
“It’s done. Send cleanup.”
“Sam what’s wrong? You sound strange.”
“I’m fine. Boomer used some of his gas and I think I got too much. I don’t know what’s in that stuff but I don’t ever want to breathe it again.” Boomer could keep his fancy toys. She’d stick with old fashioned, hand-to-hand fighting.
“Cleanup’s on its way.”
Sam, Kong, Boomer and Ricochet stood guard until the cleanup team arrived then disappeared into the night.
Chapter Two
No one spoke as they rode to the airport in the rented SUV. Ricochet drove, Boomer rode shotgun while Sam and Kong sat in the back. Exhaustion was the mood of the night, that and concern. Since the three men had pulled Sam from the terrorist house months ago they had done three missions together. During those missions Sam had always remained calm and professional.
Tonight’s mission had shown the men a side of her they’d never seen before, quick tempered and radical in her techniques. This was not the Black Smoke they’d worked with before. Tension hung thick and heavy in the air, encircling them much like the gas did.
Most of the tension vibrated from Kong. Boomer and Ricochet knew better than to mention anything as they loaded their equipment into the SUV. Everyone simply did their job as efficiently as possible.
Kong looked over at her noticing she hadn’t removed her mask yet and that only added to his concern. Her head rested against the window and from what he could see her eyes were closed. He couldn’t tell if she was sleeping but from the way she breathed, deep and heavy, he assumed she was. He also noticed that she seemed sluggish while they loaded the car.
When Kong looked up he met Ricochet’s eyes in the rear view mirror. He quickly glanced away. He didn’t have any answers for him, not yet anyway.
When they reached the airport Ricochet and Boomer exited the car, Kong opened his door and noticed Sam didn’t move.
“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re here.” When she didn’t move, he leaned over placing his lips against her ear. “Sam, wake up,” he said through her mask.
She moaned, rolled her head to the side and bumped Kong’s face with hers. She gasped in pain and pulled away.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kong asked reaching out to touch her face.
Sam brought her hand up and stopped him. “Nothing, just a little sore.”
“Okay,” he responded suspiciously, “let’s go get on the plane.”
“God, I can’t wait to get home,” she whispered.
“Yeah, me too.”
When they boarded the plane Kong watched Sam grab a bottle of water from the fridge and waited for her to sit next to him. When she chose a seat on the other side of the plane, stretched her legs out and lay back, he frowned. She still hadn’t removed her mask—peculiar.
Boomer sat across from Kong and handed him a beer. Kong looked over at him and frowned even more. Boomer’s lip was swollen and split, dried blood crusted in the corner. She’d walloped him good.
“How’s the lip?” Kong asked then took a big swig of beer.
“Hurts like hell. Look, don’t blame her. I should have known better than to grab her from behind. She simply reacted.”
Ricochet sat down next to Boomer. “It was like workin’ in soup in there man. She couldn’t see real well.”
Kong studied both their faces. Sam was like a
sister to them, they would do anything to protect her. Hell he’d do anything to protect her.
Boomer lifted his beer bottle to his mouth and winced.
Ricochet slapped his thigh and laughed. “That’s what ya get for fillin’ the place up with gas. Hell, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I was in there less then ten minutes and it was gettin’ to me. No wonder she popped ya one.”
“Yeah, I love that stuff.” Boomer smiled slightly awkwardly.
Ricochet scooted sideways and looked at Boomer. “I’m serious, man, you need to find somethin’ to do besides play with all those damn gadgets. There’s more to life than blowin’ things up and gassin’ people.”
Boomer just shrugged.
“Don’t forget electrocuting them,” Kong injected.
“Those Taser cases are wild. I wish had I them on some other missions.” A glazed look passed over Boomer’s eyes.
“You and me, we’re gonna start trollin’ for some women. It ain’t right I tell ya. You should be holdin’ somethin’ in your hands besides deadly weapons.”
Kong ignored the banter between his friends and turned his attention back to Sam. Why did she still have her mask on? Something was going on with her and he was going to find out what it was. Not now though, now he’d let her sleep. She’d need her rest because once they were home and alone he planned on interrogating her until she broke.
The three men played poker the rest of the flight. Every few minutes Kong looked over at Sam. Two hours had passed and she didn’t move.
When the plane landed Kong motioned for his two buddies to disembark first.
“Tell Cannon I’m taking her straight home. She’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
“He ain’t gonna like you takin’ charge of his little girl like this.” Ricochet said.
“That’s too damn bad. He’ll just have to adjust,” Kong replied and then ushered them off the plane.