Lone Wolves by Aaron Solomon (english readers .txt) 📖

Winston came in. “Heads up boys.” He said. “We’ve got action.” “What’s cracking?” I asked eagerly. “That’s just it.” He replied. “Crack house. Market Street, north.” “Hmm. You thinking La Famila?” I asked. “Not sure.” He answered. “Gear up, boys. We’re goin in.” It was a short ride to the crack den on Market Street near downtown. Hutch and I quickly got out to stack up on the door of the Victorian style house. Winston gave the signal and I ever so slightly opened the door. The coyotes inside turned their heads at the command of “freeze”. One of them pulled an AK74U assault rifle from under the sofa and pointed it directly at me and the team. I raised my rifle and unleased three rounds into his chest, dropping him to the floor. From behind a small TV in the corner, I could see what he was so desperately attempting to protect. Behind it was a thin layer of fairly new drywall. I took the butt stock of my rifle and began chipping away until I came to a large cardboard box in the center. Inside were five large bricks of Columbian grade cocaine covered up by six bundles of Columbian currency. “Looks like we won the lotto today.” I said humorously. “Just hurry up and get it to the car. I certainly don’t want it to be more than we bargained for.” Hutch retorted nervously. As we headed out to the Tahoe, I suddenly began to feel a bit uneasy myself. I did a quick scan of the complex. There were a few high buildings around but it seemed just fine. I had just opened the passenger side door when a rifle shot cracked through the still air. I turned my head to see Winston drop suddenly to the pavement. I rushed to where he lay under the open driver’s side door. Luckily, he was still breathing. I looked up just in time to see Victor Steele standing on the roof with an M700 sniper rifle broken across his paws, a menacing grin plaguing his face. I raised my M4 and fired until he suddenly vanished without a trace. I didn’t bother trying to pursue him. I knew we had to leave now while we still had the chance. I helped Winston into the back of the Tahoe and Hutch slammed on the accelerator. Winston was in pretty bad shape. His breathing was labored and he was struggling to stay awake. Underneath his raid armor, his once snow white fur was now bright red with blood. "Leave me..." He managed to wheeze out. "Don't let him... get away." "The hell I am, old man." I answered defiantly. "We're all in this together. And don't you even think for a second that I would let you down." "It's so hot in this armor, Aaron... Yet I feel so c-cold." Winston's blue eyes closed and his head slowly turned over to the side. I desperately tapped the side of his muzzle, calling out his name in a fit of pure panic and agony. "Winston. Winston!" It was no use. Winston, my father, was dead.

 

5

 

The phone rang again. I was still jarred, all the memories of Winston still branded into my head. I snatched it up and answered, “Yes?” Lieutenant Tony Atkinson’s voice came over in an urgent tone. “We have a new assignment for you. How soon can you get here?” He asked. I took a glance at the clock. It was now 7:15 AM. “Roughly six minutes.” I replied. “Sounds good.” He said and hung up. I hopped in Pearle and wasted no time getting down to HQ. Hutch was already there, waiting patiently in Lieutenant Atkinson’s office. “Ah, Agent Solomon.” Atkinson beamed. “Great honor, lieutenant.” I replied. “I must say, I’m sorry to hear about your father. He was… Well, one of the best agents I had even known.” He said gravely. “Anyway…” He went on to the task at hand. He told us one of our informants was being held up in some compound in Mexico and we were to work with the Navy’s SEAL team 7 to get in past the notorious Martex rebels gang. “For now, you’re the only element I’ve got to send.” He said. “Good luck.” With that, we mounted up and prepared for the long journey across the border into Mexico. The hunt for Steele had only just begun.

 

6

 

“The compound’s only half a clique to the north.” Announced Jason Waterson, leader of the SEAL team as we rounded the corner into the complex. He signaled the all clear and we carefully moved out into a small villa, checking our corners as we dashed inside and off the street. At last we reached the compound on the other side of the village. After simultaneously taking out and slipping past the group of Martex coyotes by the car, we stacked up on the door and prepared to breach and clear. Inside of the compound, we were once again met with a deadly silence. “Keep your eyes peeled.” Waterson reminded us. As we slowly made our way through the pool house, a cry rang out from behind the door to the next room. It was a distraught cry. The kind of cry that would only escape the lips of a murder victim. I quietly moved over to the door and was just about to turn the knob when it suddenly opened with such a force that it knocked me back first onto the hard marble floor. A gold colored lioness broadly stood over me, holding a bloodstained hunting knife just inches from my neck. I looked deep into her olive green eyes and soon recognized her. “Kari?” Kari Voucher was a past informant and so called “snitch” I had used to get info on Steele’s whereabouts for the previous mission in Columbia on my first day. I then realized that she was the one we had been sent here for. She lend a paw and helped me up, finally seeing she had nearly filleted her closest friend. “How’d you manage to escape?” I asked. “Never thought I’d see you alive again.” She chuckled. “I have my ways.” She replied. Then, there was an abrupt shout in Spanish from behind the same door. We took cover on the wall near the door as two Martex coyotes swaggered in. I waited until one of them got past and then made my move. Kari silently handed me the knife and I grabbed his paw and slammed him into the wall, jamming the knife into his neck. He gurgled on his own blood and dropped to the floor. Hutch took down the other with some quick punch combos and we swiftly made our way to the exit. Just as we stepped outside, “Shit! RPG!” Before I could even think of reacting, a tremendous force blew me back against the wall of the building. Hutch yanked me to my feet. “Get up! We gotta get the fuck outta here!” Waterson radioed for the extraction and guns blazing, we make our way to the helicopter which arrived three minutes later. I waited until I was inside before firing back, hitting one of the Martex thrice in the torso. As we lifted up into the moonlit night sky, Kari sighed. “I think I just used up my eighth life!” She said, still panting. “Oh pee-shaw! You’re still in one piece.” I teased. “Easy for you to say. You’re part of the dog family. She said chuckling. I let out a sigh of my own. We may have won the battle, but the war was still so far by a long shot. Steele was still so far out of our grasp.

 

7

 

I made contact with Kari again at Arty’s Bar and Grill. Turns out, the place was a stakeout and meeting place for the La Famila cartel. I sat on a barstool, staring aimlessly into an empty beer bottle on the counter. The coyote bartender gave me an unwelcoming glare but soon went back to shining glasses and shooting glances around the room occasionally. Just when we were beginning to think it was all hype, a group of coyotes wearing all black suits casually strolled in. One of them was carrying a black briefcase while the others stood close behind him with AK-47 assault rifles at the ready in their paws. We watched as he spoke softly to the bartender. “One hundred million, as we agreed. You have the device?” “Of course.” The bartender replied, handing over a large silver briefcase. Suddenly, their attention turned to us as one of them said something in Spanish. “I said where are you from?” He repeated in English. “Hey Fleabag!” Now was our chance. I unleashed a right hook into his jaw and then slammed his face into one of the tables. I dropped the others with two well-aimed shots from my pistol and quickly went in pursuit of the fleeing bartender coyote. I caught up with him just outside the bar, taking him down with a hard tackle to the pavement. I snapped on the cuffs while Kari secured the briefcase. Back at division, she later told me that the briefcase contained a Vector SMG and that the guy carrying it was an arms dealer for the ELN which probably explained how Steele’s cartel had gotten their paws on AKs and RPGs. Just then, Hutch bustled in with news. “We’ve got him! Steele’s here! He’s using public transit to move the weapons.” “Alright. Gear up. We’re hunting some big game today.” “This a huge risk, Aaron.” Kari cut in uneasily. “Are you sure you can take him?” “Trust me. This is the one he’s been looking for.”

 

8

 

We arrived on the bridge at 6:02 PM, the scheduled time for the Metro train to show up. We had waited here for nearly over an hour and were just about to turn back when from out of the blue, a small beam of light began to move in the distance headed straight for us. I waited until the train was just about under the bridge and then made my leap of fate. I happened to jump just in time and landed directly on the roof of the last car. I used my MP5 to shred through the glass and cut down the two coyotes inside. I slowly moved into the next car, carefully checking my corners as I went. Everything was quiet until I got to the second car from the very front of the train. Three more coyotes were inside, weapons at the ready. I raised my MP5 and fired three precision aimed shots at the unsuspecting perpetrators. I continued moving forward and was almost at the front of the train when I felt the tip of something cold and sharp against the fur on the back of my neck. I slowly turned around only to be met by Steele holding a long bladed hunting knife to my throat. “I’ve been looking for you a pretty long time.” He said in a bone chilling tone. “Well, I guess you’ve found me, cowboy.” I retorted and unleashed a ton of lead straight to his jaw. He took a step forward and tried a swing at me with his knife. I ducked quickly and returned with a kick that sent him straight into the window, shattering the glass on impact. He let out an enraged growl and tackled me into the wall, slamming his head into my stomach. I recovered and returned the favor with a knee to his mouth and a hard uppercut to his chin. He staggered back, wiping a bit of blood from his mouth. I thought he had had enough, but he once again fired back with an unsuspecting swipe of the knife. A sharp pain appeared in my left eye followed by something wet and warm trickling down my face. The blow had knocked me down to the floor. He stepped fourth and jammed the