The Ajax Protocol

CHAPTER 40

The assassins came in two silent, black zodiacs, a little after three in the morning. Lamont and Ronnie lay concealed in a grove of trees near the shore. Ronnie watched through an old pair of binoculars he'd found in the main house. The moon was down, but there was enough light from the stars to cast a faint sheen on the water and to show the black shapes of the rafts and the men getting out of them.

"I make it twelve men," Ronnie said. "Machine pistols, no heavy weapons. Night gear, all black. Maybe pros."

His voice was quiet, little more than a whisper. Even if someone had been nearby, the soft sound of his words would have disappeared in the sound of the surf against the shore.

Next to Lamont was a car battery he'd taken from Emile's truck. A wire ran from the hot terminal down toward the shore and the path leading up from the bay. He held another wire in his right hand, the end stripped down to the copper. Two of the homemade bombs were hidden on either side of the path.

"Wait…" Ronnie said. "Wait." He kept the binoculars trained on the men coming up the path. He let the first two men go by the trap.

"Now," he said.

Lamont touched the bare end of the wire to the battery terminal. The two bombs detonated in a double thunderclap that sent startled birds screeching into the air. For an instant the night was lit with a bright, orange light. Then the light was gone. Someone began screaming.

The two men who had gotten past the IED were caught in the instant of paralyzing shock that comes before survival kicks in and turns to desperate action. It was only an instant, but it was long enough. Ronnie and Lamont stood and fired together and took them down. The rattle of automatic fire came toward them from down the trail but it was wide and high. They retreated back up the path toward Emile's house.

In the house, Stephanie, Elizabeth and Selena waited with Emile. Nick was away from the house on the path leading to the other side of the island, watching the other way in. Emile was sharpening a machete. They heard the explosion. Emile looked up from the blade.

"They are here," he said. They all went outside.

Elizabeth held a 12 gauge double-barreled shotgun with outside hammers. The finish was worn. The gun qualified as a collector's item but it was clean and tight and well oiled. Stephanie cradled an old, bolt action Western Auto .22 with a long tubular magazine under the barrel. It was a lot like the Mossberg she'd had in Kansas, if not as elegant.

A minute later Nick appeared. "Nothing on that side," he said. "Selena, let's go."

Stephanie and Elizabeth were relegated to a backup role. If someone got through Nick and the others, the plan was for Emile to take them to a hiding place in the jungle.

Selena and Nick moved down the path toward the bay. They heard someone coming. Nick held up his fist and signaled. They stepped off the path into the undergrowth. Selena held her pistol in both hands, the hammer back, her finger laid alongside the trigger. Her heart was beating hard against her ribs. Her palms were slippery with sweat. An insect buzzed close to her ear, sending a surge of adrenaline sweeping through her body. She took deep breaths, calmed the rush.

Nick whistled, a warbling bird call that Ronnie had taught him. An answering call came from down the trail. Ronnie and Lamont emerged from the gloom.

Nick kept his voice low. "How many?"

"A dozen," Ronnie said. "Not so many now, maybe five or six left. Automatic weapons. They're wearing body armor. Go for the head shots."

They have to come up the path," Lamont said. He gestured at the jungle on the sides of the trail. "No one's getting through that. They'll regroup and come after us."

Nick nodded. "You and Ronnie set up on the side of the path, a little farther down. Let the first few go by. Selena and I will stay here. When you hear us firing, take out the rest and come back."

Lamont's breathing was harsh. His face was pale and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

"You okay, Shadow?" Nick said. It hadn't been that long since Lamont had taken a bullet through his right lung.

"Yeah. Nothing to worry about. Let's go, Ronnie."

Selena watched them trot down the trail. "He doesn't look good," she said.

"He'll deal with it. Let's get into the trees."

They settled in, a few feet apart. In the dark, with the heavy foliage all around them, it was as if Nick had disappeared. Selena couldn't see him. A dangling vine caught her hair. She reached up and pulled it away. Mosquitoes found her. She tried to brush them away without making noise. Then she saw the first man coming up the trail.

He moved with the caution of someone who had walked enemy trails before. He wore a dark colored beret. His face was smeared with green and black grease paint. Mercenaries, she thought. Pros. He held a lethal-looking submachine gun high and close to his body. His head never stopped moving, his eyes trying to see into the impenetrable jungle. She almost felt sorry for him. She reminded herself that he was here to kill her. Not far behind him, another man appeared and then another. The first man was almost past her hiding place. She took aim at the man behind him.

They were outgunned, pistols against automatic weapons. They'd only get one chance.

Somehow the point man sensed her presence. He started to turn toward her, the barrel of his weapon swinging around. The roar of Nick's pistol shattered the night silence. The man went over backward.

Selena fired, twice. Her target flailed his arms in the air and fell back off the path. She heard Nick's pistol again and then Lamont and Ronnie firing, the sound of the shots flat and deadened by the thick jungle growth. She swung toward the man who was next in line and fired at him. He went down. There was a chattering burst of automatic fire down the trail and a pistol shot. Then the night was still again.

Selena was holding her breath. She let it out, releasing the tension. On the trail, nothing moved.

"You okay?" Nick asked.

"Yes. You?"

They stepped out onto the trail. "Just mosquito bites." He walked over to the bodies, reached down and picked up two of the machine guns. He handed one to Selena.

"Czech Skorpions," he said. "They're like a .32 caliber buzz saw on full auto, rip you to pieces. A lot of mercs use them."

Selena examined the weapon. A selector switch on the left-hand side of the receiver let the shooter choose between safe, single shot or full auto. A curved magazine jutted from the front, behind a stubby barrel. The stock was a curved piece of metal that folded up over the receiver. She pulled the bolt partway open, saw the glint of a cartridge and let it slide shut. She flipped on the safety. Cocked and loaded. She hefted the gun.

"Doesn't weigh much."

"Under three pounds. It puts out about 850 rounds a minute. See if you can find some spare mags."

There were four bodies. They found a dozen loaded magazines. Nick picked up the other two guns and slung them over his shoulder. A whistle came from down trail. Nick answered. Ronnie and Lamont appeared. Lamont was limping. They each carried one of the Czech guns.

"Are you hit?" Nick asked.

"Nah. I tripped over a root and twisted my ankle."

"Any of them left?"

"No," Ronnie said. "I checked. We got all of them."

"Let's go find Harker and the others," Nick said. The adrenaline charge was fading. He felt dull, used up. His legs felt like lead. A dull ache started in the back of his head.