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“Diego Valdez’s men!” Nik yelled, shoving Daria into the hut. He lunged for the weapons beside his medical ruck.
Daria let out an ‘ooooff’ as she hit the dirt floor. She heard bullets tearing through their hut, whizzing barely above her head. “Give me my pistol!” she yelled, holding out her hand.
Nik crouched low, AK-47 in his right hand, jerking open the ruck, tossing her the Glock.
“It’s loaded, bullet in the chamber. Stay here!” he yelled, twisting around, leaving the hut and disappearing.
Coolness flowed through Daria. She was a sniper in full control of her emotions as she took the safety off the Glock and rolled back onto her stomach. She heard shouts, screams and terror among the villagers. Breathing hard, she scrambled forward on her stomach toward the door. More bullets ripped through the hut, the dried reeds that made up its walls exploding, creating clouds of dust, making it hard for her to see. She had no Kevlar vest on to protect her. She elbow-crawled out through the doorway, and headed toward the corner of the hut to try and get a bead on the rival drug lord’s soldiers.
How many of them were there? Daria had no answer, not familiar with the two Latin drug lords who were actively fighting this Russian intrusion into their cocaine territory. She had no idea how large a force was attacking the village. Her mind narrowed and focused as she saw at least thirty men in jungle cammo, armed with AK-47s, pouring into the clearing, firing wildly and indiscriminately. That was too bad for them she thought, her mouth flexing, her eyes slits as she placed both hands on the Glock and began to pick her targets.
Daria knew the ex-Spetsnaz black ops soldiers would be as lethal as she was. They never sprayed and prayed. They picked a target and fired in brief, concentrated bursts. She heard the deep chatter of AK-47s behind her, knowing it was the Russians returning fire. They were out in the open, vulnerable, with nowhere to hide. Thatched huts provided absolutely no protection at all. In a small corner of her mind, she was grateful Nik had his Kevlar vest on. It wasn’t a Level4, only a Level2, but it would give him protection. It was better than nothing. She didn’t see Pavlovich wearing one at all, although his two guards did. How she wished she had hers on right now!
The Latin soldiers were all dressed differently from one another. There was no single, focused plan of attack as they ran helter-skelter through the village. The air was alive with the singing and humming of bullets being fired all around her. Her mind worked like a trap snapping shut, her full focus only on the nearest man, who’d spotted her on her belly near the hut, racing toward her, firing at her.
She heard screams behind her.Men. Russians?Daria didn’t know and wasn’t going to risk turning to find out. God, don’t let it be Nik! A tiny part of her slow-beating heart cringed.Please, don’t die! Don’t die! I just found you, Nik!Sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes and she continued to slow fire, her hand bucking savagely from the massive kick of the powerful Glock. It was a pistol that took humans down with one shot, which is why so many operators used the weapon. She had one herself, but it was back in Virginia, in the Shield armory locker.
All other sounds were blotted out. Daria winced as a bullet exploded in front of her, six inches from her face. She closed her eyes, dirt flying around her. That was close! Mouth set tight; she opened her eyes. They were blurry from the dust in them. Making a frustrated sound, she jerked her hand up, wiping them quickly, before returning it to grip the butt of the pistol.
More bullets peppered her position.
She felt a sting and then numbness in her upper right arm, ignoring it. Firing, the roar of the Glock blowing her hearing, she saw her attacker and fired back. In one shot, he was down and out of the fight. Daria realized she was at the point of the spear. Her and Nik’s hut was the nearest to where the jungle path opened out into the village behind her. She saw more and more soldiers begin to spot her and send a hail of fire into her position.
She heard Russian boots thudding up behind her. And then, the soldiers landed on their bellies on either side of her, slow-firing their AK-47’s, giving her support. Daria didn’t look to see who they were. Rather, she remained concentrated on slowing down the hoard of Latin soldiers trying to overrun her position. The man who fell next to her grunted. She was peripherally aware of his AK-47 flying out of his hands, a bullet taking him out. Jerking a look, she saw it was Korsak. Blood was streaming from his chest. He lay gasping, his arms flailing. Next to him was Brudin, who was firing back. Next to him was Nik. They were all wounded, some more so than others, herself included.
Glancing quickly at her right arm, Daria saw blood was running down it and dripping off into the soil. Ignoring it, feeling no pain, Daria knew no nerves had been cut or her fingers wouldn’t be working so well as she gripped down on the Glock and kept firing it. She heard movement to her right, but did not look. She sensed that Nik had gotten up and raced past her for the medical ruck. She knew he was going to try and save Korsak’s life. The bleeding Russian leader was now gasping like a fish out of water beside her. There was nothing she could do to help him. If she and Brudin didn’t continue to fire, the force closing in on their position would overrun and kill all of them. There wasn’t a choice. Her hand bucked again and again.
Daria sensed Nik drop back down beside her and crouch over Korsak. She saw around a dozen of Valdez’s soldiers suddenly halt as orders roared out in Spanish from somewhere out of sight beyond the curve in the path that led into the village. Suddenly, the men turned on their heels and ran, sprinting for cover, ducking and weaving every which way from rounds still snapping around them, before disappearing around the bend.
“They’re gone!” Brudin snarled, getting to his feet, glaring down the empty path. “Yellow, cowardly bastards!”
Daria stood and turned, seeing the carnage left behind in the wake of the firefight. At her feet, Nik worked frantically to stop the bleeding from Korsak’s chest. It was a sucking chest wound through the man’s lung, and she knew it could kill him. Nik placed a square patch of adhesive foil over the bullet wound and Korsak stopped gasping as much. Her heart beat was slow and steady. There, fallen in the midst of the barren land between the village and the jungle, lay Rolan Pavlovich and his two guards. None of them moved where they lay crumpled in a heap. Each had been riddled through and through. A lump formed in her throat. She saw Duboff laying on his side near another hut, wounded but alive. Kravec lay unmoving nearby, dead.
“Nik? Pavlovich is down,” she managed in a torn whisper.
“They’re dead,” he said in low, guttural tone, focused on Korsak. “I’m sorry…”
“Are you sure?” she demanded, starting to run toward them, Glock still in hand.
Daria didn’t wait to hear Nik’s grunted rejoinder. She was aware of villagers cautiously peeking out of their huts, their eyes all wide with terror and locked on that bend in the path. Would the drug soldiers come back around it and attack the village again? She didn’t know. Tucking the Glock into the waist of her jeans, she leaned down over the mafia boss. His body was twisted and he lay on his back, his eyes open and unseeing. He wore no protective vest, the red blossoms of four bullet holes stitched across his chest and stomach. Swallowing hard, Daria knelt down, and pressed her trembling fingers against the exposed column of his neck. Flashes of her own past overrode her eyes and she shut them, feeling no pulse on Pavlovich’s neck. She winced, reopened her eyes, and saw the half-moon birthmark on the side of it.
He was dead, just as Nik had said.
Tears trailing down her dirty cheeks, she went over to the two security guards. Both had died of head wounds. Someone in that drug team had been either a lucky or damned good shot.
Next, she went over to Duboff who was slowly sitting up, gripping his arm, blood leaking out between his fingers. He stared darkly up at her, but said nothing. Daria saw the question in his eyes as she approached him. Who was she really? How did a botanist know how to shoot that well?
“Morozov will be here when he can,” she told him.
Duboff nodded, his gaze following her as she picked up the two AK-47s from Pavlovich’s dead guards and slung them over her shoulders. She went into the hut and dug through the men’s packs, grabbing a heavy leather bag of AK-47 magazines out of one of them. They might need these fully-loaded magazines, should Valdez’s group decide to come back and finish them all off. Glancing warily at the still empty path, she didn’t know what to expect from Valdez’s soldiers. Would they regroup and then attack again? Lifting her head, she saw Nik and Brudin working as a team over Korsak. She wasn’t sure if the Russian would make it or not.
Walking quickly back over, she positioned herself near them, keeping her focus and attention on the path. “Duboff has an arm wound. He’s okay but needs your help when you can give it to him.”
Nik nodded. “In a minute. Kravec?”
“Dead. So are the two guards with Pavlovich.”
Nik nodded, working quickly, rummaging around in his medical ruck.
