Page 35 of Viking
They moved without question, each man knowing his role, weapons ready.The club had more firepower than most small-town police departments -- AR-15s, Mossberg shotguns, and enough handguns to arm a small militia.Not to mention the military-grade equipment some of the ex-soldier brothers had “acquired” during their service or from contacts they’d made during their years of service.
“Incoming,” Wire called, his voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders.“Three SUVs, tactical approach.I count at least twelve hostiles.”
Through the compound’s open gate, I saw headlights cutting through darkness, moving in tight formation up the access road.No attempt at stealth now -- they knew we were waiting.These weren’t local cops or rival clubs.These were government operators with training, discipline, and a mission.Which meant the assholes we’d been dealing with so far, were most likely local thugs they’d hired to kick things off and distract us.
“Nobody fires until I give the order,” I commanded, signaling to Tempest to ready the roadblock.He nodded, moving to the chain that would drop metal spikes across the entrance.
The lead SUV slowed as it approached the final bend before our gate.I raised my hand, ready to give the signal.
“Now!”
Tempest yanked the chain.Metal spikes rolled across the road just as the SUV rounded the corner, and the tires let out a hiss.The military run-flat tires kept it out of the drainage ditch, but the two SUVs behind it slammed to a halt, and for a moment, stillness descended.Then all hell broke loose.
Men in tactical gear poured from the vehicles, taking cover behind open doors and the disabled SUV.Their movements were coordinated, disciplined -- military or ex-military for sure.The first shots came from their side, bullets pinging off the concrete barricade in front of me.
“Return fire!”I shouted, rising just enough to squeeze off three shots before ducking back down.Around me, the night erupted with gunfire as brothers opened up with everything we had.
I kept track of positions through the chaos -- Tank’s team laying down suppressive fire from the east, Sticks and his men moving to higher ground for better angles, Prospects on rooftops picking off any attacker who exposed himself too long.We had numbers and home-field advantage, but they had training and better equipment.
“Viking!”Wire’s voice cut through my earpiece.“Two hostiles breaking right, heading for the back service road.”
I swore under my breath.The service road led directly behind my house.Behind Karoline and Athena.
“I’ve got it,” I said, already moving, keeping low.“Savior, take command at the gate.”
I didn’t wait for his response, just broke into a run, using the shadows and outbuildings for cover.The weight of my cut slowed me down, but I didn’t shed it -- too many essential tools in the inside pockets, too much protection in what it represented.
I caught sight of them as they reached the tree line -- two men in black tactical gear, moving with the efficiency of trained operators toward the service road.Toward my family.The thought hit me with surprising force.My family.That’s what Karoline and Athena had become.
The first man noticed me a second too late.I slammed into him at full speed, driving us both to the ground.His training kicked in immediately -- he twisted, trying to bring his weapon up, but I was already inside his guard.My fist connected with his jaw, the impact sending pain radiating up my arm, but I didn’t slow down.Another punch, and another, my knuckles splitting on his teeth.
The second attacker was on me before I could finish the first.A boot connected with my ribs, driving the air from my lungs.I rolled, narrowly avoiding the butt of his rifle as it smashed into the dirt where my head had been.On pure instinct, I swept his legs, bringing him down hard.
The first man was struggling to his feet, blood streaming from his mouth.I launched myself at him again, this time driving my combat knife up under his ribs.His eyes widened in shock -- these men expected resistance, but not this level of ruthless efficiency.Not from bikers they’d been told were just criminals.
“The woman in my house,” I said into his ear as he gasped his last breath.“Was she worth dying for?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, just wrenched my knife free and turned to face the second attacker.He’d regained his footing and raised his rifle, but I was already moving.I raised my knife and slashed across his forearm, severing tendons.The rifle clattered to the ground as he howled in pain.
This one was younger, probably hadn’t seen real combat before.Fear replaced the professional detachment in his eyes as I advanced on him, my knife dripping with his and his partner’s blood.
“Who sent you?”I demanded, grabbing him by the throat with my free hand.
“Fuck you!”Despite his hostile response, there was a tremor in his voice undermining the bravado.
My knife pressed against his jugular.“Last chance.Who sent you after Kris Kringle’s family?”
Something flickered in his eyes at the name -- recognition, maybe fear.“Operation Ghostwalk,” he choked out.“We’re just following orders.Cleaning up loose ends.”
I pressed harder, drawing a thin line of blood.“How many more of you are there?”
“This is it,” he gasped.“Just us.If we don’t report back, they’ll know --”
His words cut off as a bullet tore through his skull from behind.I dropped to the ground immediately, rolling toward cover as more shots rang out.Another attacker, one I’d missed, firing from the tree line.My guess was that he’d arrived after I’d attacked these men.Otherwise, he’d have blown my head off before now.
He’d said this was it, but something told me he’d been lying his ass off.In the same situation, it’s what I would have done, especially if I had back-up somewhere.
I caught a glimpse of him repositioning and fired three quick rounds from my Glock.Two missed, but the third caught him in the chest.He went down, but I was already moving again, not taking chances.
