Dark Tides Rising (Parker Chase Book 3) by Andrew Clawson

Author:Andrew Clawson [Clawson, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Golden Idol Publishing
Published: 2014-03-26T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

When Parker Chase bolted from the cave, Victor didn’t have time to react. Armed men were raining death on his mercenaries.

One man had been cut down in the initial barrage. In front of his body was another, riddled with bullet holes. His squad was down to three, and they were taking heavy fire.

“Boss.”

To his left, a veteran mercenary named Ezekiel displayed two hand grenades.

“What are you waiting for?”

Ezekiel’s long ebony fingers pulled the pins and hurled the matte green balls. A beat later, orange fire erupted.

Sand flew on gritty super-heated air to hit Victor full in the face. For a few moments, all was quiet.

Ezekial glanced his way. Victor nodded toward the cave entrance, signaling with the gun in his hands to indicate he’d lay down covering fire. He sure as hell wasn’t going first.

The mercenary darted to the opposite wall. Acrid smoke burned Victor’s lungs as he ripped off the last bullets in his magazine before the hammer clicked down on an empty cylinder. Ezekial crisscrossed his way toward the front as Victor’s only other surviving guard continued shooting. On full auto, his bullets ran dry. Ezekial stopped, eyes on his boss as Victor racked the slide. Only his rifle jammed. Ezekial took a step into the open, exposed and uncovered.

Yellow flashes sparked from outside the cave, and Victor could only watch as Ezekial jerked like a minaret puppet before crumpling to the sand.

With a snap, the slide finally racked, and Victor unloaded his magazine.

A muted buzzing filled his ears. Half-dazed, he watched the sole surviving member of his team, a slender Cajun called Skuba, stand and advance toward the entrance.

“Done gawt ’em baws.”

Skuba’s thick drawl was faint, distant. Victor followed the Cajun, his eyes on fire as he reloaded. Skuba stood over the man Victor had killed moments earlier.

“Don’t know who in the–”

Skuba’s head exploded. The Cajun’s rail-thin body crashed into the water with a splash. Victor froze, still concealed within the cave. Whoever had shot Skuba was off to the right.

Victor moved silently to the wall, rifle trained toward the incoming sea, waiting.

Boots crunched over the sand. Whoever was out there made no effort to conceal their presence.

A shadow fell across the sand. Hidden from view, Victor watched his adversary’s profile come into view.

He was looking at a dead man.

Five years earlier Victor had killed Niles Jackman. Now he stood an arm’s length away. A bit leaner, hair buzzed, but without a doubt the man he’d left for dead off the coast of New York City.

Victor stepped into view.

“Drop it, Niles.”

Stiff as ice, Niles froze.

“You have three seconds.”

Niles’s rifle splashed into the warm water.

“Niles Jackman. Back from the dead.” Menace laced Victor’s tone. “How did you find me?”

Jackman was a silent statue.

“Turn.” Victor took a step back. “Slowly.”

The same ice-gray eyes Victor remembered from five years ago.

“If you make me ask again, you’ll have a bullet in your knee. How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t hard.” Jackman’s gaze was pure hatred. “I know your plane’s registration number.

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