Page 36 of Vaquero
“One, sugar dumpling.”
The soft and low, sweet-southern-boy charm oozing out of the Viking at her six amazed Meg. Charlie didn’t seem worried about right or wrong. He wasn’t having second thoughts. Then why was she? Zapata had this coming, damn him.
Smile for me, Commander Oz. Prepare to die, you bastard.
“Two, sugar dumpling.”
Oh, for hell’s sake. Charlie was calling her sugar dumpling, not counting them. Silly, silly, courageous man. Somehow that helped.
Okay then…
More focused. She took one last deep breath. Flexed her fingers. She’d never been more ready to squeeze the trigger bar when—
Pew.A single gunshot rent the air. Then…BOOM!Followed swiftly by a thunderous succession ofBOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Holy hell!A gigantic explosion rippled through the center of the pit. The earth quivered and shook like popcorn on a wet dog. The ground groaned and heaved. A ring of vicious, roaring fireworks from deep within the pit broadcast zinging shrapnel and flaming wreckage outward. Whole burning trucks sailed into the sky like Tonka toys. Another thunderous explosion followed, shaking the earth. Then another!
Smoking hot debris rained down, trailing smoke and ash like monstrous fireworks out of the now glowing night sky. My God! The entire center of the gravel pit was one horrific belching ball of fire. Like a hungry dragon, it had engulfed every soldier in sight. There was no one left standing. Even Oz was gone. Those foreigners. All the vehicles. Tents. Equipment. Everything. The raging fire sucked everything into its cavernous jaws.
Only the three trailers parked way across the pit, near the farthest wall, were left. Wait. Were those missile launchers?Oh. My. God!They were. What the hell had Oz done? She blinked, not believing what her eyes were telling her when a blistering shockwave tipped Meg back on her heels. She turned sideways to escape the stifling, suffocating heat roaring over her, her skin already tender and no doubt burned. Armageddon had come to Brazil.
“You ass!” she bellowed over her shoulder at the big tough guy who supposedly had her six. Her eyes teared. “Damn it, CB! Why’d you fire prematurely? You hit some kind of ammo dump. You were supposed to—”
“No, ma’am! I didn’t fire! Was not me,” he yelled back, his grim face tinted orange by the sky-high flames reaching into the sky.
The ground shuddered again. Then again. Meg planted her feet to keep from toppling over. If Charlie hadn’t fired, who--? Oh, my God, Julio? She was sure she’d heard a gunshot. Her gaze arrowed to the tunnels Oz had been watching. Had Julio taken that shot? Was he here?
“You need to launch that warhead, soldier. Do it now, Goddamnit!” Charlie ordered, “before it detonates in your face.”
Okay then…She didn’t need to aim at Zapata now. Close. She only had to be close. Squeezing the trigger bar, she immediately felt the whoosh as the two-stage sixty-six-millimeter warhead launched. Mesmerized by the power at her hands, she watched the charge she’d lit simply by pressing the trigger bar, hurl the rocket from the tube and send it straight into the fireball. That was the rocket she’d intended to blow Zapata apart with. Damn, this was too easy. He deserved pain and suffering. Dismemberment. Torture! Not instantaneous death by a fire she hadn’t started. So who the hell had? Could Julio have finally ended this monster? God, Meg hoped so.
“Holy fuck!” Charlie bellowed. “Who is that guy? You see him?”
“I don’t see anyone, damn it,” she muttered under her breath, wiping her face again. The heat from the fire was so hot that tiny blisters had formed along her hairline and her eyes kept tearing.
Meg stepped back against the cabin. She heard it then. The distinct rat-a-tat-tat of a room broom, aka the Heckler and Koch MP7. Way over there. It was him! At the farthest tunnel entrance. A single man stood dark and brave, his stocky profile lit from behind by an orange wall of fire.Julio!
Her heart leaped into her throat. What was he thinking? He was in danger. He needed to duck and cover. At least, drop flat into the dirt, so he made less of a target. There were at least a dozen guards pouring out of the one tunnel. As much as they were firing at him, he should’ve been dead by now. At least, wounded and staggering. Bleeding.
Yet Julio walked deliberately into their line of attack like he was invincible. He didn’t falter. Didn’t slow down. Just kept advancing, while he sent a steady strobe-light of death their way. One fell, then two more.
Oz’s men didn’t stand a chance. They should’ve turned and run. Julio might have let them live. But they kept shooting. And he kept giving them what they were asking for. Death without mercy.
When another guard appeared out of nowhere behind him, he pivoted, turning a shoulder to the few guards still standing. Still firing.
No!Meg’s heart stopped. Julio was caught in a crossfire. He’d die. One against so many stood no chance of surviving.
“You know that ass?” Charlie asked, suddenly standing at her side.
She nodded, biting her lip, her gaze riveted to the death struggle across the way. “Yes, I do,” she breathed. “That’s Special Agent Julio Juarez.And he’s not an ass.”He’s my hero.
Charlie leveled his rifle and fired three deadly rounds. Three guards nearest Julio fell. The others turned away, aware they had trouble at their rear. Big mistake.
While Charlie neutralized two more attackers, Julio took down the usurper at his rear. Man, he moved as if he were performing a deadly ballet. In the middle of a jump, he’d made a perfect half twist. With the ball of one foot still on the ground, he swung the top of his body around and leveled the compact rifle in his shoulder at his would-be assassin.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
