Tidal Rage David Evans (novels for teenagers .txt) 📖

Colton handed three to Cortez and kept three for himself. They moved through the delegate’s bedroom, ensuring it was clear. Colton took point, and Cortez came up on the rear. Colton lit a smoke bomb and hurled it over the balustrade, and the smoke bomb burst on contact with the marble floor on the ground floor below. Cortez followed suit, and in total they threw four of the smoke bombs.

Meanwhile, Cutler and Tuck entered Werner’s bedroom in the same formation, with Cutler taking point. They kept on sweeping their heads from side to side, as the respirators limited their peripheral vision.

Before they could see the inhabitants of the villa, they could hear them, coughing and spluttering as the chlorine gas took effect on their respiratory systems. The noise emanating from them was men coughing, retching, and babbled shouts in Turkish.

Two of the Turkish minders could stand it no longer and burst out the front door with Uzi submachine guns spraying in all directions. The large Turk to the right continued to fire as he entered the swimming pool backward, as Shultz lined up the shot and the bullet entered the Turk’s heart a millisecond later.

The smaller Turk hit the deck immediately to minimize his profile to the sniper. All this achieved was that the next bullet entered his forehead rather than the larger target, his chest.

Cutler ran back to the external patio outside the bedroom in case Shultz had missed his shot, worrying needlessly in case they were flanking Cortez and Colton. Pointing two fingers up and then crossing his throat, he indicated to Tuck: two men down, four to go.

Tuck entered the top of the stairwell, which was a semi-circle of steps down to the ground floor, but he could see clearly to the bottom and saw Werner on the floor, gasping for breath. However, he could not see Bauer, who they all agreed was the most potent threat.

Cutler tied a rope to the balustrade and waited for the moment Bauer was bound to show himself; after all, Tuck had set himself up as a target.

Bullets sprayed upwards in the delegate’s villa towards Cortez and Colton, who took shelter in the first bedroom off the stairs. The moment the volley of bullets stopped as the two remaining German minders took a second to reload their magazines, Cortez and Colton ran out of the bedroom and returned the favour. A scream told them one had been hit. Once their guns had run dry of ammunition, Cortez dove back into the bedroom and Colton dove to the right, taking shelter behind a concrete pillar holding the balustrade in place.

Cortez popped his gun out and took one shot towards the German left standing to draw fire. The volley was returned immediately, too quick to get out of the way. Cortez took a round in his right shoulder and slumped backward.

Colton observed Cortez rock back on his feet before sinking to the ground. No sooner had the volley ceased than he leap-frogged the balustrade and began firing on his way down the six-yard drop to the ground floor. He took the German out mid-flight, at around four yards from the floor; his burst ripped the German minder’s head apart like a watermelon exploding. The crunch he felt as he landed was his right ankle snapping.

He immediately jumped up on his good leg and hopped around to ensure the minder they had hit from the volley upstairs was dead. He was not and was trying to reload his gun but was hampered, as he had been shot in his leading right arm. Colton also had an empty magazine. The minder was kneeling up, trying to use the floor to leverage the gun while loading a magazine with his unnatural hand. Colton dropped his weapon and rapidly felt at the back of his neck, quickly withdrawing a short, six-inch knife from its sheath beneath his shirt.

The German minder had succeeded and spun towards Colton with his finger reaching for the trigger and wondering why his finger would not move. The knife had entered his left eye, thrown with such force it had pierced the brain, but the second that it took to die was filled with thinking, Why won’t my finger move?

Cutler, in Werner’s villa, had mimicked Colton’s move and jumped from the balustrade as Bauer unsuccessfully tried to kill Tuck at the top of the stairs. Tuck was quick and rolled immediately into the bedroom.

Bauer was shocked when Cutler landed on him from above. He lost his weapon immediately and was winded. Werner was unarmed and gasping for breath; the noise was unmistakable as he gasped through his artificial voice box.

Bauer looked up from the floor at the towering man all in black and his face covered by a respirator.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Take a guess; you killed my parents.”

By this time, Tuck had traversed the staircase two steps at a time and had his gun trained on Werner.

Werner sputtered, “Cutler.”

“Got it in one.”

Cutler surprised Tuck by placing his gun down on a glass table.

“This is where I say I’m going to give you a chance. But if you kill me, Bauer, Tuck over there is going to put a bullet into you anyway.”

“I’m going to take you with me.” Bauer swept his leg expertly, taking Cutler’s legs out from under him, and he slammed to the floor. In the same motion, Bauer took a knife from a sheath on his thigh and jumped onto Cutler. Cutler grabbed Bauer’s knife hand with both of his, clasped as in prayer. Tuck swung his gun around to the back of Bauer’s head.

“Don’t you do it, Tuck. This fucker is mine for what he did to my family!”

Bauer pressed down with all his might and was looking directly into Cutler’s eyes.

“Shame I didn’t get to your sister