Five Roads To Texas (Book 10): Salvation Page 9

  “Fucking Chinamen.” Reese cursed as he tightened his grip on the Glock he carried in his right hand.

  “Koreans.” Dutch corrected the other man. “North Koreans.”

  “Do I look like I fucking care where they’re from?” The leader of the mercenaries growled. “Those dickwads cost us Roman, they cost us Baz and Ridley! And...” He slammed his gloved fist against the cinderblock wall. “They cost us time. We need to get our asses to that fucking safe house before Wong and his cronies get there.”

  “They cost us almost eight hours.” Hobbs said. “That’s a pretty good lead boss.”

  “Yeah but it’s just the two of them and they’re both pretty banged up.” Dutch said letting go of the window slats. The bearded medic slowly turned to face the others.

  “True.” Reese wagged a finger at the bearded medic. “You do have a good point there Dutch. Those two gooks are pretty messed up, so we do have an advantage on them.”

  “I will kill them.” Foz said quietly from where he sat in a darkened corner. His voice was full of malice and sadness for his dead brother. Even though it wasn’t exactly the North Korean soldiers fault Baz was dead, the older Russian needed something, someone to blame. That was the only way he could process the loss of his younger brother. He pulled the big Bowie knife from his belt and jammed it into the floor. “I will skin them alive then feed them their tiny little cocks. Watch them gag on their shriveled manhood”

  “Gross, Foz. Gross. But you can do whatever you want with them when we catch them. I don’t judge.” Reese grinned.

  “So, we’re still doing this?” Hobbs asked.

  “You bet your mama's ass we are.” Reese pounded him on the shoulder with a closed fist. “That is a big payday we’re looking at. Maybe even the biggest, brother.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Hobbs, quit being such a fucking buzz kill. Loosen your sphincter a little. Brother, aren't you tired of eating other people’s crap?” Reese crossed his arms. “I mean. flossing those pieces of corn out of your teeth every day, that's gotta suck.” He turned to look at the others. “Now it’s time for everyone else to eat our crap. Pick the corn outta their teeth.” Reese grinned. “Time to shine gentlemen.”

  “I am ready.” Foz said, yanking the blade out of the floor and standing up. “I Will feed corn to others.”

  “Great.” Reese chuckled at the big Russian . “Let’s pack up all the gear we can use. Dutch, keep watching out for those flesh bags. Soon as they are clear let’s get to the trucks and beat feet outta here.”

  “I’ll drain the fuel from the Humvees they left behind.” Hobbs picked his rifle up from where it stood against a desk. “I noticed they had at least a half dozen Jerry cans outside. I’ll check them out, see if they’re full.”

  “You do that.” Reese nodded. “Grace, go with Hobbs.”

  “Roger that.” The big black man nodded.

  “Zap, Foz, Webb, go ahead and pack up anything we can use. Let’s get a move on gents. Payday awaits us.”

  Chapter Thirty

  LOVE REMOVAL MACHINE

  Outside Peach Tree, AZ

  The first rounds out of the North Koreans rifles smashed into the Pelican cases that were strapped down to the trailer. Jesse instantly dropped to the warm asphalt and quickly proned out just below the trailer hitch as the fake UN soldiers continued to fire at her position. The ground next to her was torn open as several bullets impacted close to her shoulders, sending several slivers of asphalt into her cheeks and forehead.

  Quickly rolling onto her back and clutching the M4 with her left hand, she slid underneath the hitch. More rounds slammed close by as she tried to make herself as small a target as she could. Wiping the blood from the cuts in her face, Jesse was worried that one of the dipshits would get lucky and actually shoot her. Squeezing in closer she pulled the hitches cotter pin loose then, with shaky hands, she tried to lift the small lever loose. This was really a job for Ram but there wasn’t any way he could get to the back of the vehicle without being shot. He had to be the distraction.

  “Okay! Okay!” Ram shouted at the Korean soldiers. He raised his left hand through the open window in surrender as his other hand kept a tight grip on the Beretta.

  The North Korean Sergeant shouted at his men to stop firing then moved from behind the cover of the SUV. The other soldiers still kept their weapons aimed in Rams direction as the Korean NCO stepped around the front of the vehicle, he held a machine pistol close to his chest.

  “Turn your vehicle off and step to us with both your hands up!” The Sergeant commanded. “Sure thing buddy.” Ram said, still holding his left hand up in the air. He slowly drew the Beretta upward and closer toward him as he listened to Jesse’s desperate attempts to stealthily unhitch the motorcycle trailer. Ram didn’t know if he could pull it off without being shot full of holes by the Koreans but he sure in the hell wasn't going to surrender to them. He’d rather go out with a bang then a damn whimper, he only hoped he didn’t end up accidentally shooting himself in the process.

  “Come Mister Ramacher.” Woo-Jin took another step forward. “We know who you are. Surrender to us and we’ll let the woman go.”

  “You know who I am?” Ram frowned, surprised and a little unnerved at hearing his name called. He found himself gripping the handgun so tightly it hurt his right hand.

  “Yes, Ramacher.” Every time Woo-Jin pronounced his name it sounded like Whamacher. Any other time the old prison guard would have made a wisecrack. “Surrender to us and no one will get hurt.”

  “How do you know who I am?” Ram asked, trying to buy Jesse more time as he inched the handgun closer to him.

  “The United Nations has been looking for you. Now turn off the vehicle and come to us.” Woo-Jin tried to suppress a smirk. “No harm will come to either of you. You have my word.” “I don’t know you to trust your word, besides, your men still have their rifles pointed at me.

  Makes me kinda nervous.” Ram said as he was able to finally pull the Beretta in against his stomach. Ramacher was no gunfighter. Sure he’d seen Tombstone a million times but he still wasn’t sure he could bring the weapon to bear before the Asian mafia chopped him to pieces. The Sergeant said something in Korean to his soldiers and they slowly dropped their weapons to a combat rest position. Woo-Jin glanced back over to where Ram stood behind the Dodges' opened driver side door.

  “Okay Ramacher, you come to us now.”

  “Alright, alright.” Ram couldn’t hear anything from the rear of the Durango so he figured that it would come down to a shootout with the Korean goons in the black SUV. Before he could raise his Beretta into a good firing position he heard the metallic thunk of the trailer’s tongue striking the asphalt. The Dodge shuddered as Jesse frantically scrambled back through the vehicle's open rear window. Without hesitating, Ram dove into the driver's seat and shoved the Durango into drive. His door still open, Ram stepped on the gas and spun the wheel hard to the left. Tires chirping, the big V-8 engine roaring, the SUV tore away from the roadblock and headed off in the opposite direction of the stunned Korean soldiers.

  “It’s Ramacher not Whamacher you cocksuckers!” Ram shouted out the window above the gun fire and groaning of the old SUV.

  “No!” Woo-Jin screamed in disbelief as he watched his quarry escape. More angry than thinking clearly, he fired his machine pistol in the fleeing vehicle's direction. The other soldiers, just as stunned as the Sergeant, joined in at firing on the speeding Durango. Once the magazine was empty in his pistol, Woo-Jin quickly came to his senses and ordered his men to stop firing.

  “We need him alive!” The Sergeant growled at the soldiers, angrier at himself for so easily losing control. Jamming the machine pistol into his belt holster he hurried over to the Tahoe and flung open the passenger door. “Quickly! Hand me the radio!” Woo-Jin shouted at the others. His thoughts were of the punishment Major Ki-Moon would dole out if they lost the Americans. “Or we are all fucked!”

 
“Speaking of a butt pucker! How fucking close was that?” Ram shouted back to Jesse as she climbed over the three rows of seats to get to the front of the speeding Durango. Breathing heavily, the brunette flopped into the passenger seat and gave Ram the stink eye. Sweeping a thick strand of hair out of her dirt and blood-spattered face, she pulled the seatbelt over her chest and locked it. Crossing her scratched and bloody arms, she let out a breath of annoyance, still fixing the driver with an angry stare.

  “No shit.”

  “You’re bleeding, you alright?” “Yeah, just some scratches. I’m fine.”

  “Side note, Jesse, why the fuck is the UN looking for me? I mean did Sanjay tell every fucking creep on the planet? What the fuck?”

  “Your blood Ram.” She pushed some stray hairs away from her face. “They want your blood. Bunch of fucking vampires!”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  A LITTLE PAIN IS INCENTIVE

  Somewhere in Nevada

  “Major.” Captain Sang glanced down at the fuel gauge of the Humvee then back over at his superior officer. “We need to pull over and fuel up.” Sang could feel himself sweating even though the vehicle's air conditioning was on high. The two men had entered a stretch of highway that was littered with abandoned cars. The vehicles had once carried hundreds of people fleeing the infection only to be stopped by the deadly rounds of fighter jets desperate to stop the outbreak. It was now a silent aluminum, steel, and rubber maze that Sang had to slow down and carefully traverse.

  “What a mess Captain.” Ki-Moon said absently as he looked out upon the hundreds of damaged, bullet ridden cars. “The Americans fired upon their own people to stop the spread of infection.” He ran a hand across his sweaty forehead and grinned. “A drastic measure that did not work. That, Sang, is why we will defeat them. The Supreme leader will be proud of us. One day Sang, your grandchildren will remember you with honor. We will be heroes of the People’s Democratic Republic. There will probably be a statue of you and I in some city square. What a great honor that will be, huh?”

  “Major.” Sang repeated as he watched the low fuel gauge. Right now the glory, honor, and a statue of himself were the last thing on his mind. The wounds inflicted by the Americans were painfully throbbing, and getting out and lifting one of the gas cans off the back and refilling by hand was the last thing he wanted to do. “Major, we need to stop and refuel.”

  “Of course.” Ki-Moon nodded.

  Sang grunted as he looked for a spot wide enough to safely park. Seeing a clear space next to the burnt-out shell of a school bus he pulled alongside of it giving themselves some cover in case any infected or gun toting Americans happened to be around.

  “Be quick Captain.” The Major said as he climbed out of the vehicle, the Glock he’d removed from the dead mercenary already drawn.

  “Major.” Sang hurried out of the Humvee and made his way around the back of the vehicle. Glancing around the graveyard of cars, he scanned it for movement. The area seemed clear so with a painful grunt, he pulled the Jerry can from its rack and carried it over to the passenger side of the Humvee where the Major stood watch. Sang unscrewed the gas cap and let out a little groan.

  “Captain?” Ki-Moon noticed the junior officer's discomfort.

  “Major, it is nothing. Just a little sore from where the American dogs tried to hurt me.” He suppressed a groan as he lifted the heavy gas can. “It is nothing.”

  “Good.” The Major turned to watch the area around them. “A little pain is incentive. Pain lets you know what is truly at stake here. No?”

  “Sir.” Sang swallowed his pain as he poured the fuel into the Humvee.

  “The pain you are feeling is nothing compared to the pain we have inflicted on this country. Think about that when you are hurting. Sacrifice is all we have. Right Captain?”

  “Major.” Sang nodded, stifling a groan. Right now he wished he was back in his shitty border post freezing his ass off. Deep down inside apparently, he wasn’t the true patriot that Major KI-Moon had fancied himself.

  “Hurry Captain. The longer we stay static the more chance of those things or the Americans finding us.”

  “Yes Major.” Sang nodded trying to hide the annoyance that he was feeling at the moment for his commanding officer. The Captain really didn’t have to try too hard, KI-Moon was notoriously oblivious to any of the cares of the soldiers under his command.

  “You know Captain,” the Major walked over to the passenger side of the Humvee and pulled open the door. Reaching inside, he pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and a cheap Bic lighter from under the seat. Smoking had become an annoying and stubborn habit he’d given in to since landing on Western soil. KI-Moon stepped to the front of the vehicle, away from the gas fumes. “This Nevada isn’t such a bad place. I seem to enjoy the desert.”

  “Major.” Sang bobbed his head as he continued to empty the gas can into the Humvee. The Captain hated the desert and hoped they would move on to another area that was filled with trees and thick grass. This place had no allure for him, he wished they’d at least been posted to the Coast. He missed the water. As the Major continued his rant, he turned to face the Captain, waving the cigarette as he spoke.

  “We find the American and you will never have to fill another one of these damned vehicles again. What do you think about that Sang?”

  Before the Captain could think about anything, he glanced up at the Major just in time to see three of the infected crawl over the hood of a damaged sedan and charge in the senior officers direction. Sang stepped back, dropping the Jerry can to the ground.

  “Captain?” KI-Moon’s eyes grew big as Sang pointed behind him. The officer turned drawing the Glock as he did but it was too late, the infected smashed hard into the Major sending all four of them crashing to the ground. Out of breath from being so violently knocked to the asphalt, the Major tried in vain to fight off the grabbing hands and snapping jaws of the growling men and women.

  “Major!” Sang sprinted for the drivers’ side of the Humvee, there was a stolen M4 rifle between the seats. Flinging the door open, he reached in and yanked the rifle out, swiftly turning to where KI-Moon was squirming beneath the pile of hungry infected. Sang flicked off the safety and pulled back the charging handle. The Captain couldn’t get a clear shot so he struck the first infected in the head with the butt of his rifle. The strike made a hard crack and the crazed cannibal fell off the pile, still alive but dazed. Sang fired a round into the back of the man’s head, sending him face first into the roadway.

  The rifle’s loud report got the attention of the other infected. They immediately stopped their attack on the Major, jumped to their feet, and charged at Sang. The sudden change of attack by the ravenous man and woman took the Captain by surprise. Sang quickly stumbled backwards trying to get some distance between himself and the infected. Before he could bring the rifle up to fire, the infected man grabbed the weapon by the barrel almost jerking it out of the Captains shaking hands. The crazed man shoved Sang backwards against the side of the Humvee. “Sang!”

  The infected man’s head exploded, splashing the front of the Captains uniform blouse with black blood and brain matter. Sang's eyes grew wide as the man collapsed in front of him. The female let out a growl and charged. A round caught her in the side of the head propelling her into the side of the Humvee. There was a loud cracking and splat as she careened head first into the front fender. A big splash of black blood outlined where her head had struck the vehicle as she slid to the ground dead.

  “That was close Captain.” KI-Moon wiped some blood from his face with his right hand that still clutched the warm Glock. “Wasn’t it?”

  Sang just nodded still in a little shock from the infected’s sudden attack. The M4 dangled uselessly in his left hand as he glanced down at the three bodies that lay crumpled on the hot asphalt. Looking back at the Major he noticed the officer had a big, blood-soaked tear in the right arm of his uniform shirt.

  “Sir.” He pointed at the s
enior officer's right arm. “ Your... your arm, sir.”

  “What?” The Major moved his arm into his chest and saw the two bites that had definitely broken the skin of his bicep and forearm. His adrenaline had obviously kept the officer from feeling any of the pain. “No. No. No!” He slammed his fist on the hood of the Humvee. “Major, we can still get to a medical unit before the infection spreads!”

  “If we had a radio.” KI-Moon sighed heavily as he rested his hand on the warm metal of the vehicle. The Americans had pulled the radio out of his Humvee after they’d captured the outpost. Now, the Major had no way of contacting any of the other units in the area. “I will not die this way Captain.” KI-Moon angrily shoved the pistol into his holster then reached over and ripped off the rest of the torn and damaged sleeve. “Get me the medical kit. Quickly. Help me clean this up then we’ll find that American dog, Ramacher. There’s no way I’m letting a couple of little bites stop us. Get the med kit!” As Sang frantically dug through the vehicle for the first aid bag, the Major squatted down near the bloodied passenger fender of the Humvee.

  Trying to calm himself and catch his breath, Ki-Moon could already feel the infection flowing through his body. Maybe it was all just in his head, but unless he got to Ramacher within the next couple of hours, found one of their Mobile Medical units and had them synthesis a vaccine, his chances of surviving infection were pretty much nonexistent.

  The Major chuckled to himself at the absurdity of it all. Maybe though, just maybe, he was one of the 100,000 The Supreme Leader claimed were immune to the infection. KI-Moon stood up slowly, hands on his hips and shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to doubt the words of the Supreme Leader. He had a mission to complete and if he succeeded but died in the process, he was sure he’d be remembered with honor.