Righteous Strike by Eric Meyer

Author:Eric Meyer [Meyer, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swordworks
Published: 2018-03-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

She'd told him to ‘kill the fuckers,’ and it was language he understood. He'd tucked the Tokarev into the waistband of his pants, with his shirt hanging loose over the top to conceal the gun. He wasn’t confident he’d have an opportunity to use it. They were being extra careful, and they'd fill him full of lead if he made a sudden move.

Then again, what do I have to lose? That’s what Sara doesn't understand. Life is an equation. Kill or be killed. In these badlands, there’s no other law, just the law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest.

Inwardly, he smiled, for he was anything but fit.

Although I have a gun, I'm breathing, and I have bullets in my gun. I can keep going. I’ll empty the magazine into the hostiles in a last, suicidal fusillade of bullets. Before they tear me apart with their assault rifles.

He watched them carefully as he emerged from the tunnel. They were still standing well back, giving him no chance to make his play. Barbara emerged beside him, and he had a flash of inspiration. He put his head close to hers and murmured, "Pretend to fall. I need to get them close."

She gave him a slight nod and proceeded to put on a command performance. Her body twisted, as if a muscle had failed in her leg, and she fell heavily to the floor, shrieking in agony. The Afghans acted on instinct, charging forward in a group to catch her, and bring her out of the cave for her execution. Stoner was no danger. His face battered like a casualty from a major traffic accident, his pant’s leg bloody from a bullet wound, he looked like a man already on borrowed time. In their haste and inexperience, they ignored him.

He could hardly believe the ruse had worked so well. Four pairs of eyes concentrated on Barbara Adams, and it was a simple matter to slip out the Tokarev He put one bullet into each man, each shot well aimed, two in the head, two in the heart. Four bullets, four dead bodies. He had a brief image of a big man on a motorcycle, dispensing justice. No, this wasn’t justice. This was war. He helped the Congresswoman to her feet.

"Barbara, go back to the cell and let them out. I'll hold Rahman’s men off."

He tucked the Tokarev back into his waistband and snatched up an assault rifle. A Kalashnikov AKM, the modern variant of the iconic AK-47. It fired the same size round, the Russian military grade 7.62mm. Men were shouting panicked questions from nearby, no doubt wondering about the reason for the gunfire. He hunched in the shadows of the cave entrance and watched them rush toward him. Five men, blundering into him like the rookies they were. He flicked the selector to full auto, pulled the trigger, and hosed them down with a long burst from a full magazine. Thirty bullets for five men, an average of six rounds apiece, and they were bunched up like newborn pups.

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