Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) (5 page)

He shakes a finger at me and smiles. “Ah, yes, but it’s only legal in
America
. Not here. Not every country jumped on your president’s bandwagon. Besides, you would be surprised what some rich men like, my friend.”

I shrug. “I dunno… I’m a rich man. Or, at least, I used to be, I guess. But that doesn’t mean I’m interested in young girls. Money don’t mean a thing—fucked up is fucked up.”

“I am not here to pass judgment, I simply supply to meet demand. And I’ve been doing very well from it for quite a while.” He nods at his head of security next to me, who hasn’t moved an inch this entire time. “And no one—certainly not a stupid little American asshole like you—is going to change that. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to die.”

“Well, there’s one thing, actually…”

He raises an eyebrow. “Hmmm?”

I knock the gun up with my arm and shove the big bastard who’s holding it with as much strength as I can muster using both hands. He staggers back a few paces but doesn’t go down, which is okay—I just wanted a bit of space…

I run toward him and jump, crashing into him with my elbow and knee raised. They both connect at the same time, hitting him in the jaw and chest respectively. He staggers back again, but remains stubbornly upright.

I move toward him once more, walking quickly and with purpose. I don’t want to let up for a second—I can’t afford for him to recover and aim his gun at me again. I swing my back leg around, low and hard, catching him flush on the outside of his knee. His leg buckles under his weight. For the first time since I started, he falters and looks as if he’s going to drop, but he doesn’t.

This guy is just ridiculous! If I’d kicked Way like that, it would’ve snapped his leg in half…

He raises his weapon, but I’m close enough to him to make the gesture ineffective. I brush his arm away and throw three punches in quick succession to his sternum and gut. He takes another step back, stunned. He drops his gun and I push it away with my foot, making sure it’s nowhere near anyone.

I step forward and throw another hard combination—one more to the gut, followed by a shot to his kidney. He wavers, but this time he plants his feet. I see his body tense and he shakes his head, clearing the cobwebs.

Oh… shit…

He lunges forward and—

Whoa!

—wraps his… colossal… hands… around my… throat!

He lifts me clean off the floor and throws me backward. I land heavily, maybe ten feet away from where I started. I blink hard, trying to clear my head and refocus.

Fuck me, this guy’s strong!

I glance over at Way, who’s standing behind his desk looking amused.

Oh, I’m going to smash that smile off your face, you pompous little—

“Holy crap!”

I’m hoisted into the air again and thrown out of the tent, landing awkwardly on the ground outside—the soft earth doing little to cushion the impact. I scramble to my feet. I can’t afford to lie still, even for a second. If Goliath grabs a hold of me again, I’m—

Ugh!

A fist that felt like a brick just buried itself into my side. I’m back on the ground, struggling to breathe and trying not to throw up.

Fuck me! How did he move
that
fast? It feels as if a train just hit me!

I move my head and look over just in time to see him charging toward me again. He raises his arms and leans forward to grab me.

Not again!

My instincts take over and, without thinking, I thrust my foot out and kick his knee—the same one I went for before. It stops him in his tracks, but does little else. I risk one more, which thankfully finds its mark, and roll to the side as his leg finally gives out. He lands face first next to me with a loud thud, like a tree falling in the forest.

I’m straight up to my feet, ignoring both the pain shooting around every inch of my upper body, and my apparent inability to take a deep breath. I take a quick look around, aware I’m out in the open and exposed.

Yeah… that’s what I was afraid of…

A large group of men has formed a loose circle around us. There must be twenty of them, easily. They all have weapons hanging from their shoulders by straps, and they’re shouting and cheering as they look on. Behind them, in the fenced corner where crops are growing, the women are watching, too. Over to my right, Way has appeared in the entrance of his tent, his arms folded across his chest, surveying the scene like an emperor watching his gladiators. I look back at head of security.

Whoa!

Instinctively, I lean back and narrowly avoid a big right hand that would have taken my head clean off had it landed. He stands, dropping into a loose fighting stance, smiling at me with menace in his eyes.

I notice he’s favoring that left leg of his though, which is good. Shows he can be hurt. Plus, now the fight has slowed down a bit, I can think clearly. Yes—he has almost a foot in height on me. That’s fine. He’s built like a tank—that’s okay, too. He’s strong, but he’s slow, and his leg isn’t a hundred percent, which gives me the advantage. Maybe. I just need to play it smart, pick my shots, keep moving, and wait for the mistake. Time to antagonize…

I love this part!

I stand casually, my arms by my side. “So, tell me… how are you so fucking ugly with only one head?”

His eyes go wide and he snarls at me, baring his teeth like a wild animal.

At least I know he can understand me. Excellent!

“Seriously, it’s like King Kong and Godzilla had a lovechild, and you were mauled by a pack of rabid dogs. You’re fucking hideous, man! You would actually scare a zombie back to life!”

Oh… here he comes!

He charges forward, his arm held high behind him, ready to swing down for a killer blow. I see it coming a mile away. I sidestep, slamming my foot into his weakened leg as draws level. He drops instantly, sliding to a halt on his knees. I spin around and put my elbow through his temple, as if I’m trying to split his head open. He flies away from me, hitting the ground hard, out for the count.

I’m breathing heavily, the adrenaline pumping furiously through my body. I take some deep gulps of air, trying to slow my heart rate down so I can think clearly. I turn a slow circle.

Oh yeah… I’m surrounded.

Shit.

Thankfully, they’re all staring at me, wide-eyed. I guess that juggernaut was a big deal around here. Their shock buys me a few moments of reprieve, but that doesn’t really help me. What am I supposed to do now? I mean—

What’s that noise?

I frown and look behind me.

Ol’ Juggernaut is getting to his feet!

I momentarily hang my head in disbelief.

“You’re fucking kidding me…”

I take a deep breath to steel myself.

That’s it!

I charge at him, drop my head at the last possible second, and bury my shoulder into his gut. I don’t let up, keeping my momentum going and not affording him a chance to realize what’s happening. I force him back, using every ounce of strength I have to build up as much speed as I can. I feel him tense as he gathers what senses he has left, but he’s too late. I let out a guttural grunt of effort as we collide with the leg of one of the guard towers along the side of the compound. He comes to an abrupt stop, but my shoulder keeps going. I bring both legs up behind me and spear his body through the weak wooden beam supporting the corner of the tower. There’s a loud crack as it splinters, and I feel the wind being knocked out of him. I push off him as he falls, roll away to the side, and spring to my feet again. Time slows down, and I glance up as the entire structure starts to collapse—the weight of it proving too much for the remaining beams to support on their own.

“Oh, shit!”

I dive sideways, scrambling away to avoid the falling debris. I hear a scream, and look back to see the man positioned at the top of the tower land with a heavy, life-ending thud—his head splitting like a melon as it hits the ground. His gun flies from his hands, landing a few feet in front of me.

Ah, thank you very much!

I wait a second longer, just to appreciate the sight of all that wood falling and crushing the giant prick, and then lunge for the gun. No time to check the mag. I doubt it’s going to be empty—no one here will see that much action. I check the safety and hold it one-handed as I sprint across the yard toward the housing units, yelling as I turn slightly to fire behind me. It’s a fully automatic weapon, so I simply squeeze the trigger and point it in roughly the right direction. I’m not bothered about being accurate—as long as I avoid hitting any of the women—I just want to deter them from firing at me for a few seconds while I get some cover.

Everyone’s too busy standing slack-jawed and braindead to fight back anyway. A couple of well-placed sprays as I’m running and I manage to take out over half the group. In my peripheral vision, I see Mr. Way ducking back inside his tent.

Nowhere to run, asshole.

I reach the housing units and slam my shoulder into the side of one to stop myself. Fighting to control my breathing, I drop to one knee and place two hands on the gun. I take aim and start picking off the stragglers before they get chance to organize themselves. The slightest of touches on the trigger lets off two or three rounds at a time, so I take my shots sparingly, prioritizing the men still up in the watchtowers.

I take out three of them opposite me before the gun clicks empty. I stand and make my way across the front of the units. As I reach the third one along, the door in front of me opens. A man appears, fumbling with his own gun. He looks up, shocked to see me standing there.

I smile. “Hey there.”

Before he can reply, I slam the butt of my empty Vector into his face, shattering his nose. He drops like a stone, his face masked in fresh blood. I leave my gun next to him as I lean down to steal his. Again, I’m assuming it’s a full mag, so I click the safety off and turn to start firing once more.

“Jesus…”

There’s a sea of men walking toward me with their weapons raised. Not firing… just shouting. There must be forty, maybe fifty, of them.

Save the bullets, Adrian. Pick your fights.

I yank open the door of the next unit along and step inside, slamming it shut behind me. I turn and rest against it, catching my breath.

What the…?

There are three men facing me, and they all look… well, terrified, really. They’re all in a state of undress—two have pants on, but bare torsos… the other is standing in his underwear, but with a T-shirt on. Surrounding them, looking equally scared and equally undressed, are well over twenty women. They’re trying to cover themselves, despite all being in their underwear. A couple are whimpering, crying with fear, but most are silent and shocked.

Holy shit.

Okay… think fast.

I snap the weapon up and let off three controlled bursts, hitting each of the three men in their chests. They drop lifelessly to the floor, prompting screams from the women and girls who were accidentally sprayed with their blood.

Whoops!

I step forward. “Okay, everyone, listen up. I’m not here to hurt you, but I’m short on time and even shorter on bullets, so I’ll be as direct as I can. First of all, I need everyone to be quiet, can you do that?”

I place a finger on my lips, and a gradual silence descends.

“Excellent. Right, hands up who can actually understand me.”

Five out of twenty-odd. Hmmm… Could be better, could be worse.

“Okay, the ones with your hands up, pay attention. I’m going to kill Mr. Way and get you all out of here. But I need your help. Can you… y’know… translate for me?”

There’s a loud babble of chatter, which prompts even more in response. I give it a minute for it to go quiet…

“Okay, who can drive?”

I’m getting nothing…

Oh, hang on—three hands have tentatively gone up.

That’s far from ideal, but it’ll have to do.

“Okay, people who can understand me, translate this: I’m going to open this door and start shooting anything that moves. When I do, I want you all to run out of here, single file, and head for the vehicle pool. With me so far?”

I pause while they relay the message. Shock and agreement sound out in equal measure.

“Good. When you get there, I want the three who can drive to get behind the wheel of a 4×4. The rest of you, however many it takes, load a drum of fuel into the back seat. I need two of you to drive over to the corners either side of the entrance. The third, park it outside Way’s tent. Then get out and run as fast you can into the forest, but leave the rear doors open so I can see the fuel drums. Questions?”

That took a few minutes… While I’m sure a lot of it was lost in translation, I think they got the gist.

I take a quick look around the room. It’s sparsely furnished—rows of beds covering the majority of the floor space, and a communal bathroom running almost the width of the back wall.

Where are they…?

I look left.

Bingo!

Three Vectors are leaning against the wall beside the door. I
knew
those assholes would have put them somewhere. I walk over, take all the mags, and shove them into every spare pocket I have. I step back, face the door, and then glance over my shoulder.

“Everyone ready?”

They huddle together, crying and murmuring among themselves.

I sigh, setting my jaw with determination.

You really do attract some random shit, don’t you, Adrian?

I push the door open and step out. This part is much easier when you don’t have to worry about collateral damage. Everyone’s a target, so I just snap my aim to the next thing I see move and tap the trigger. Propping the door open with my foot, I take out seven guys before I need to change the mag. I reload as the women and girls file out of the unit.

I hope they understood what I asked them to do. It’s a gamble, and it’s not the end of the world if they just run off, but it would be nice to make a statement if I can. I want to show Colonel Sanders and his Order that I don’t need to audition for anything. I’m the best. Period.

The last of them are out, and they’re all heading for the vehicles.

Yes!

I take out a few more men as I dash over to Way’s tent and duck inside. I’m not worried about anyone firing at the women—they’ll be too concerned about me. Besides, despite this whole place looking like amateur hour, I doubt even
these
guys are stupid enough to shoot the people they sell to make money…