Shadow Target (A Shadow Target Thriller Book 1), page 5
Morgan scoffed at the notion of Brad willingly lying to them. “Are you so blinded by jealousy that you think your brother would betray his family? I’m disappointed in you, Asher, for being so small and simple-minded.”
“He is not my brother!” Asher shot back. “Or perhaps you’d rather have your golden boy as your son since you seem to want to put him ahead of your actual kin. Groom him to take over.”
Confused, Brad’s brow furrowed. What did that mean? Did Morgan want him to take his place at the head of Cobalt?
A glance at Morgan confirmed the possibility as their eyes locked. Morgan said nothing to Brad but remained in the trenches of verbal warfare with his unruly brat of a son.
“Every operator here is your family. All are your brothers and sisters in arms. That’s the way it’s always been. Furthermore, this is not a kingdom. Just because you’re my son, that does not make you my heir. I will appoint whomever I find capable to handle this position. But I’m done arguing with you right now about this, Asher.” Morgan exhaled a heavy sigh; then he said, “What is it going to take for you to get past this so we can move on? Shall we take him outside and place a bullet in his head? Will that appease you?”
Asher considered the notion by tapping his finger on top of the empty chairs tucked under the lip of the conference table. “As much as that sounds tempting, and it does, I think, for now, a different example needs to be set. After all, rules are in place for a reason. It’s what keeps this organization thriving.”
“And what example would that be?” Morgan asked as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the glossy conference table top.
Flashing a devilish smile, Asher said, “I’m glad you asked because I have the perfect thing in mind.”
Chapter 11
Brad was lost, trapped in a bitter conflict between father and son. The power grab was apparent and so was Asher’s contempt for not only his dad but Brad too. His string of bad luck over the past few days was far from over and was teetering on turning deadly.
“What are you going on about, Asher?” Morgan asked, growing tiresome of the argument with his ingrate son. “You’re on thin ice as it is, boy. I’d not forget that.”
“No, Father. It is you who has been on thin ice for quite some time,” Asher replied as he approached the closed double doors to Morgan’s office. “You’ve gone soft and become gullible in your old age. It’s time that we adhere to the principles you’ve set as the foundation for any op that we’re on.”
“And what’s that?” Morgan asked.
“Complete the mission, fully. No loose ends.”
Asher opened the door and then stepped out of the way.
A lone guard stood in the doorway with a young girl. But it wasn’t one of their own who lived on the compound or a new arrival. No. It was Andrew Snider’s kid. The daughter Brad had failed to kill.
Morgan shoved his chair back, and then stood in a huff. “What in the world is going on here, Asher? This is highly irregular. Why is she here?”
Brad shot upward as well, shocked at the sight of the girl.
“To make things right and for your golden boy to finish the mission that he failed to complete,” Asher answered in an eerily calm tone as he bobbed his head at the guard, who escorted the blindfolded young girl into the meeting room. “I know that normally we would jump on this opportunity to bring another lost soul into the family, but she will make a perfect example which must be made.”
Her lips quivered the same as they had that night Brad had killed her parents. In the light, he was able to fully see the girl's features that were marred by pain and fright. Her cheeks were flushed and her blonde hair was a complete mess. She looked to be around six or seven years of age, but that was the least of Brad’s worries right then.
To Brad, he knew all too well what Asher had planned and why he had snatched the girl. This wasn’t about making a point or setting a precedent for the organization. No. It was about torturing a young man who felt little physical pain and how to twist the knife into his gut.
“Lord, son. You have crossed the line here and have gone off the deep end,” Morgan said while shaking his head in disappointment.
“Do what you want with me, but there is no reason to hurt the child,” Brad said, pleading for the girl’s life. “She doesn’t need to be hurt and has suffered so much already. Please. Don’t do this.”
Asher took the trembling girl from the guard and placed her in front of him. The smug smile of satisfaction grew wider as he squeezed her shoulders.
“See, father. That’s the weakness you’ve bred into your troops. Now we’re pleading for lives to be spared that should no longer exist?”
“I will not tolerate this production that you’re putting on any longer.” Morgan glared at the instructors still seated at the table, then barked at each of them. “Why are you still sitting there silently? This sort of reckless behavior is not how we operate.”
“Because, Dad, they are about as tired of you as I am,” Asher answered. “Today marks the start of a new beginning.”
The instructors nodded their agreement with the treacherous son, who had won the men over through his conniving to plant discord and doubt among the men with daily acts of small rebellions and traitorous words that went unchecked. It shocked not only Morgan, who couldn’t speak at first but also Brad who parroted his gaped mouth and wide glare.
Right then all that concerned Brad was removing the child from harm's way. Something clicked inside of him, overriding his programming of being an elite assassin and lethal killer. He wasn’t about to stand by and watch her life be taken.
“Asher. Why don’t we settle this, just you and me? Leave the girl out of it and we can handle our disagreements among ourselves.”
“Oh, we will, but not before you finish your job first, brother,” Asher replied, facing the quaking child standing in front of Brad. “You’re going to put a bullet into her skull. Right now.”
“No, I am not,” Brad said defiantly. “She will not be harmed.”
“Pathetic. I knew you didn’t have the stones for this.” Asher bobbed his head at Shane, the instructor, who then stood and pulled a pistol from behind his back.
Morgan marched past Brad in a fit of rage toward his son and the girl. “I’m beyond finished with this and you, boy. This time, you have gone too far.”
“I haven’t even gotten started!” Asher pulled his Glock 19 from behind him and trained it on his father. “As I said, things are going to change today. It will be a new dawn for Cobalt, but I’m afraid that you won’t be around to see it.”
The barrel of Asher’s Glock lined up with Morgan’s wrinkled forehead. He forced his father backward, past Brad who stood in silence while trying to formulate a way out of the perilous situation.
“I will have your head for this!” Morgan said, piqued by the betrayal. “The only example to be made is going to be of you.”
Asher forced his father back into his chair and kept his pistol aimed at his head. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He glanced at Brad, and then tipped his head at the blindfolded girl. “If you will, brother. I can promise you that a quick death is far more humane than what could happen to her if you don’t put her down, now.”
Caught in a no-win situation, Brad devised a half-cocked plan that more than likely would get him killed alongside the girl, but desperation and guilt compelled his actions.
“Okay. Fine. You win, Asher. I’ll do it.”
Whimpers from the frightened girl built. Her entire body shook as Brad advanced on her. She looked around aimlessly, unable to see the man who had ruined her life, and now, was tasked with killing her for no other reason than a grudge between feuding assassins.
“Now, take the gun and finish the child,” Asher ordered.
The guard standing near the girl pulled his holstered Sig Sauer P320 and presented the grip to Brad.
He took the weapon and stood before the child, towering over her like the Grim Reaper, which was how he now saw himself.
Staring at the helpless girl, Brad felt a huge weight of remorse pull him down further into his pit of despair. It tore into his soul as easily as the bullets had into her parents. He’d become a monster, but he never realized until it was far too late.
“Today, brother,” Asher said, growing impatient. “Pull the trigger. Free yourself.”
Brad’s finger pressed on the trigger a hair tighter; then he glanced at the guard standing not more than a few feet from them from the corner of his eye.
His posture was relaxed. He looked away from Brad to Asher who belted a heavy sigh.
“Do it already or I’ll–”
A scuffle broke out behind Brad. Grunts and shuffling feet presented a chance for him to act. A single report sounded as he switched targets from the little girl to the guard.
Fire spat from the muzzle of the P320 at close range. The .45 ACP bullet punched the guard’s skull and exited the back of his head.
In one fell swoop, Brad lowered and scooped up the child, then ran for the closed double doors as the guard crumpled dead to the floor.
A swarm of activity flourished at Brad’s back as Asher barked orders at the instructors. Before the deviant son could get another shot off at Brad, he passed through the door and bolted down the hallway.
Chapter 12
Lugging the flailing, screaming girl under his arm, while taking on fire was no small feat. Her body jerked in every possible way, testing his hold on her as they ran out of Morgan’s home.
“Stop wiggling so much, kid. I’m trying to save you,” Brad said to the girl who thrashed her legs and swung her arms wildly.
The instructors gave pursuit out into the sprawling grounds of the compound. There was no way that Brad was going to make it across the stretch of land to his unit.
He closed his arm around the girl’s waist to keep her from slipping and falling. It was cumbersome at best to carry her, return fire, and dodge incoming ordnance with any sort of efficiency.
His P320 sent round after round at the trailing men who matched his sprint across the compound.
Headlights flashed ahead, ripping across the grounds and barreling toward them. Eluding the speeding vehicle was going to be impossible while also keeping two steps in front of Morgan’s backstabbing goons.
Making it out alive seemed less and less likely, and the end of the road was near. But Brad wasn’t going to stop. They’d have to gun him down first.
A bullet zipped past the duo. It caught the meaty outside of Brad’s left triceps. It burned hot, but he maintained his breakneck sprint and bore the pain as a truck approached them.
Muzzle fire flashed from the driver's side of the pickup. The bullets flew past Brad as he ducked and trained what dwindling supply of ammo the P320 had left at the cab.
But something odd happened that Brad didn’t expect. The truck stopped and cut hard to the right. Inside the cab, behind the wheel, was Ronan.
“Get in!” he said while firing at the instructors and guards rushing toward them.
Brad didn’t argue as he trusted Ronan with his life.
His mentor scattered the trailing men as Brad deposited the girl into the backseat of the truck. He climbed in after her and slammed the door shut.
The truck launched forward as its tires bit into the ground. Its back end swung wide as Ronan hammered the gas and sent the pickup into a violent lurch that thrust Brad into the backrest.
“Keep your head down, boy!”
Ammunition pinged off the truck's body. Cracks of gunfire caused the girl to squeal under the barrage of incoming fire.
Brad shielded her body with his, protecting her however he could. From his vantage point, all he could see out of the window was the darkening night sky and the tree limbs under which they passed.
The uneven terrain of the road jostled them about as the truck gained speed. It hopped over high spots and bottomed out in the ruts, punishing their bodies in the backseat.
“Are you two okay back there?” Ronan asked, his voice stressed.
“We’re alive if that’s what you mean,” Brad answered while staying below the window's edge. “I got nicked in the arm, but nothing fatal.”
“And the girl?”
“Fine enough.”
She didn’t say a word but grunted and screeched instead. Brad assumed the traumatic experience had done a bit of damage to her.
“Hold on!” Ronan said.
A loud crash sounded. The truck jolted as if they’d collided with something.
Gunshots lessened as the seconds ticked by. Brad sat up slowly and peered out of the back window at the compound from which they now fled.
“They’ll be mobilizing shortly and coming after us,” Ronan said while piloting the truck through the forested area along the dirt road that snaked in and out of the trees.
“Yeah. Asher killed Morgan right there in front of us.”
Ronan sighed while working the steering wheel from side to side. “That little bastard. I knew he was a piece of trash, but never thought he’d stoop so low as to gun down Morgan. I had plans of getting you out of here after overhearing some of the instructors speak of mutiny, which wouldn’t have boded well for you.”
“It’s a safe bet that Asher wants me dead, but not before making me suffer first.”
Headlights sliced through the dense woods behind them. There were several pairs of lights exiting the compound after them.
“Okay. This is what we’re going to do,” Ronan said, calming his strained tone. “You’re going to take the girl and disappear somewhere far away. Asher brought her into the organization and didn’t plan on her living. That’s a loose end on his part that will have to be tied off, along with you, and now me.”
“What about you?” Brad asked, not fully understanding the plan laid out by Ronan. “We can go together. There’s no reason to split up.”
“That’s not how this is going to work, son.” Ronan killed the lights and slammed the brakes. Then he shifted into park and jumped out of the cab. “Get up front, now.”
“Stay down in the seat, okay?” Brad said to the girl as he climbed over the backrest and dropped into the driver's seat.
Ronan appeared with a rifle clutched in his hands at the open door. “Keep the lights off for as long as you can. The woods are dense and should supply enough cover for you to blend in. You’ll hit the highway about a mile up.”
The door slammed shut, sealing Brad and the girl inside the cab.
“You don’t have to do this. Come with us.”
“No. I’m going to buy you as much time as I can. It’s the least I can do for you.” Ronan shouldered the rifle and clapped the body of the pickup. “Now go.”
Much to his dislike, Brad obeyed. He shifted the truck into drive and hit the gas, sending the pickup jumping forward.
As he followed the overgrown path through the dense woods of the Appalachian Mountains, Brad peered at the side view mirror and watched as Ronan sprinted up the familiar road they'd taken to enter the compound, firing his weapon.
The reports made him flinch; he was worried that Ronan would fall and give his life for him, and that this would be the last time Brad would ever see his mentor and friend.
Chapter 13
Brad and the girl had escaped Asher’s reach, but they were far from out of harm’s way. Brad knew their tactics and how resourceful Cobalt was. To fully vanish from the face of the earth, and be safe, their old identities would have to be erased for them to survive and move on.
Brad clutched the steering wheel tighter than he realized while guiding the pickup down the desolate night roads into the backwoods of North Carolina. Anger brimmed under the surface as he pictured Ronan being killed or tortured for his disloyalty. The worst part was that Brad couldn’t save his friend.
It made him sick to his stomach. Acid boiled in his gut and threatened to charge his mouth, but Brad held it off. So much had gone wrong because of him. Regret was a powerful beast, one that sunk its fangs deep.
But there wasn’t time for self-loathing and pity, not while he had the girl with him. She wasn’t built for a life on the run, and she didn’t deserve as much. The dire mess she had gotten trapped in wasn’t her fault. Brad owned it and vowed to make it right however he could.
As the miles ticked by on the dark winding roads that led them to nowhere, in particular, Brad wrestled with what to do with the kid. He was an assassin, conditioned and trained to stay off the grid and move in the shadows, strike when the enemy least expected it, and vanish without a trace. It was his best weapon, aside from his formidable fighting and weapons skills.
Brad peered over the top of the seat’s backrest. The girl was motionless in the black depths. Only a hint of her silhouette was visible. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t removed the blindfold and left it in place. The stress of the ordeal had worn her down to the point of passing out from the horrifying experience.
As Brad faced forward, he spotted a sign marking the next closest town coming up. He missed the name but caught that it was ten miles up the road. His truck was running low on gas and he’d have to stop soon or risk being stranded with the girl.
They entered the outskirts of Woolhope, North Carolina in the dead of night. Not a single soul stirred within the community as he followed the narrow road into the downtown area. All of the businesses were buttoned up and closed, making it seem abandoned.
Street lamps illuminated the intersections that were absent from other vehicles at that ungodly hour. No Sheriff or police were spotted as the pickup crept through the isolated community.
