Blood Vengeance

CHAPTER FIVE

Ben Blake felt his frustration build as Sam drove the Mercedes hard through the clinging, black night. The A64, the fastest road between York and Leeds, was all but empty at this hour, the perpetual set of roadworks along its length not even slowing them down. As they neared Leeds, the skies began to artificially brighten as thousands of street lights turned night into day.

“Can’t you find out what’s happening?” Ben asked Jo. It had already been fifteen minutes since the army officer had made the call.

“They won’t keep us civilians in the loop. We’re acting unofficially here, don’t forget. Downside to that is it gives us no juice.”

“Unofficially? What do you mean?”

“If things had been made official this op would have been cancelled weeks ago.” Jo sighed. “Due to no credible threat. Drake didn’t agree. Hence,” another sigh, “you’re alive.”

“Drake? He sent you?”

“That he did, mate.”

“Damn. He can still do that?”

Sam laughed at the lad’s naivety. “Not a chance. But we’ve had some downtime coming for months.”

“That being said,” Jo added. “We’re on our last two days.”

Silence descended as Ben realized how close he had come. Grief struck him a moment later when he thought about Stacey lying in a pool of blood back there, dead because she had done nothing but go out with him. He choked and had to push a hand over his face to stem the sorrow.

A hand covered in dried blood.

Again. He flashed back to the soldier who had died during the battle of the Singen tomb. Was this his destiny? To always have fresh blood on his hands?

Man up, kid. Man up. It was way past time.

Sam tapped the silver-trimmed satnav. It showed the estimated time of arrival as being eight minutes from now. “Let’s start prepping.”

Jo made sounds in the back seat. Ben heard fresh magazines being inserted into two guns and the sound of clips being pulled back. He stared out the windscreen at the familiar streets. “Thought you said these special cops know what they’re doing.”

Jo leaned forward. “We’re always prepared.” He handed a fully loaded weapon to Sam and sat back.

“Stay in the car,” Sam said as the secluded entrance to the street where Ben’s parents lived came up on the right. The vehicle swung into the tree-lined road, stopping immediately as they saw two big police cars blocking their path.

“That’s good,” Sam said, noting Ben’s panicked look. “Jo, c’mon.”

The two men jumped out. Ben watched them go, but could not stand to stay alone. Twenty minutes ago he had spoken to his dad, voice trembling, running quickly through the details and begging his dad to get to safety. At first the older Blake had laughed, both Ben and Karin had always played down their role in world events, but when Ben explained what had happened to Stacey, the raw emotion which had thickened his voice had made all the difference.

“I hear the sirens,” his dad had said. “I hear them, Ben.”

Then the line had gone dead. Sam explained that the police sometimes used a cellular phone jammer and had also been known to sever landlines, though Sam didn’t sound particularly convincing on the latter detail. The hardening of his features betrayed his concern.

Now Ben watched Sam and Jo approach the tree line surrounding his parents’ house. They moved gracefully, in time, and with a modicum of energy expended. Their heads were in constant motion, surveying every angle and each other’s backs. Their professionalism was unmatched.

But still… he couldn’t just wait in the dark, hoping his parents would come running out surrounded by a gaggle of cops. Chances were the cops were interviewing them inside. They would want to know he was safe.

Ben cracked open the door and stepped out into the cool night. The tall, densely packed trees whispered their observations high above, stirred by a flurry of breezes. The blue Mercedes ticked in the sudden silence. From another street, a world away, a car alarm yelped out a warning. Ben crossed the road, following in the footsteps of Sam and Jo. He paused at the tree line, then made his way to the open gate. It swayed and creaked slightly, making Ben smile. His mother had hounded his father for years about that creaking gate. “All it would take is a blast of WD40,” she used to moan. “Can’s in the cupboard,” he used to retort, smiling affectionately. They enjoyed many such friendly squabbles.

Now Ben made his way through the gate and up the driveway. The front door was open, but that could be for any number of reasons. Lights burned in the front room — a good sign. Sam and Jo were nowhere to be seen…

Ben strained his ears but heard no sound. Shadows scudded across the moon overhead, creating patterns of black and silver. A light rain began to fall, so gentle it was barely noticeable. At that moment, movement caught his attention from the back of the house. He crouched, feeling both foolish and scared, but soon recognized Sam’s face.

“What did I tell you to do?”

Ben saw that the hardness molding the army man’s features had deepened, if that was possible. The deep crags and inflexible lines had become chasms. Behind him, Jo pulled up, his face a mirror to Sam’s.

“No.” Ben whispered. “No…”

Sam rushed forward, lowering his weapon. “I’m sorry.” He crushed Ben into his arms and held the lad as he struggled.

Ben tried to push Sam away. He might as well have tried to reason with an anaconda. Sam continued to apologize, then Jo was there too, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Ben felt the true horror of it all sink in. With legs turning to jelly, he managed to turn his head toward Jo. “The cops too?”

“All dead. This was a professional hit, carried out by world class pros.” He shook his head. “They’re long gone.”

But that didn’t make sense either. “It’s me they want.”

“They might not be in touch with the team sent to take you out. No strategic reason for them to be.”

Ben allowed Sam to lower him to the ground. The sudden shock of it all set in and he began to shiver. “We should go,” he heard Sam say. “We can call it in on the way. Drake needs to know too, if he doesn’t already.”

Through chattering teeth, Ben managed to say, “Why would he know?”

“This Blood King character,” Jo said. “Clearly he’s restarted his blood vendetta. I don’t know why, but everyone needs to be aware. They could be hit at any minute.”

Ben’s mind flickered back to the moment they had captured Kovalenko. “We could have killed him, you know. Back then. We could have hurled his body into a fucking abyss.”

Sam hauled him to his feet. “Stay close.”

Ben refused to move, he just couldn’t take his eyes off his parents’ place. “Oh God, Dad. Are… are they in there?”

“Yes, Ben, but we—”

“My dad. My… mum. It’s my fault.”

“No. It’s the desire of a psycho. Now come on, man. Other people’s lives are at stake.”

The last sentence penetrated the fog of despair that had incapacitated his brain. Karin is still out there!

Forcing his legs to move, Ben shuffled along with Sam. Jo led the way. The front part of the Mercedes was visible at the top of the driveway, headlights shining. As they approached, a horrific figure stepped out from the utter darkness of the nearby trees, a figure covered in concealing bits of shrubbery, and lobbed something underhand at them.

Jo stared in disbelief. “Fuck me it’s a—”

“Grenade!” Sam screamed, gripping Ben’s coat to drag him away.

But there was no time. The thrower had timed the grenade to explode on impact. Not even the reactions of a Special Forces unit were faster than an exploding bomb.

Fire and fragments of metal discharged in a wide radius, shredding and burning everything in the vicinity. Ben saw the flicker of fire blasting toward him, felt agony as tiny shards sliced his flesh, and then, mercifully, a split second later knew no more.

He was dead, and the two lifeless bodies of Matt Drake’s army pals lay beside him.