The Kasparov Agenda (Omega Ops Legion Book 1) (28 page)

Varick stepped out of his vehicle and stealthily approached the garage. He leaned against the wall and peeked through the window. There was a lone figure inside. He was seated on a workbench, doing some delicate tinkering with small machine parts. Only one vehicle was present in the garage at the moment: the armored truck.
Varick slunk along the wall until he reached the side door. Without making a sound, he slowly turned the knob—but it was locked.
So much for sneaking in
. He took several steps back, then, in one fluid motion, smashed open the door with a front kick. The man inside turned around startled. He jumped off his stool and reached for the handgun on the table. Before he had a chance to aim the gun, Varick charged forward and dropped him with a flying knee to the chest. There was enough force behind the strike to send the man over the table. He landed on his back, coughing and holding his chest in agony. Varick picked him up off the floor and slammed him against the wall. He was an Asian in his mid-thirties, with floppy dyed-brown hair that fell over his eyes.
 

“Lee, I presume...” The man was breathing hard, with a mixed expression of fear and anger on his face. Varick looked around the garage. “So, this is where the magic happens. You retrofitted that truck with some really high-end armor plating. The tires as well, top-notch.” Without warning, Varick reached into the man’s pants pocket.

“The hell are you doing, you weirdo!” He tried to struggle against him, but Varick kept him firmly pinned against the wall with one hand. He withdrew the man’s wallet, then pushed him to the ground. He attempted to get to his feet.

“Stay down,” Varick warned. The man did as he was told.

Varick ruffled through the cards inside the wallet. He smiled grimly. He threw the wallet back to the man. “Yeah, you’re the asshole I’m looking for, Lee.”

“What do you want?” Lee’s eyes darted to the gun he dropped near the bench.

Varick crouched down and clamped a hand around Lee’s throat. “I want it
all
. Names. Suppliers of the hardware. The people in the truck, or
so help me
—
”

Lee gasped for air. “I don’t know...what you’re talking about, man...”

Varick bared his teeth. He squeezed Lee’s throat shut for a second, then released his hold completely. Lee coughed profusely and rubbed his neck. Varick stood up. He casually walked over to the gun on the floor and kicked it to the other end of the warehouse. “You helped kill police and hostages at First Bank...” Varick’s anger was bubbling to the top and his fists clenched. “You tell me again that you don’t know and—” Varick suddenly stopped talking when lights washed through the garage windows.
He could hear the engine of a vehicle
. Its tires crunched under the gravel as it parked in front of the garage. Varick’s mind raced. He picked up Lee by the collar and pushed him against the wall again. “Who’s here?!”

Lee smiled. “Don’t worry, you want to meet these people...the guys in the truck, right?” Varick watched the side door open. The monstrous Gregory Pike stepped in, along with a man that Varick had never met before. He had striking snow-white hair and a formidable build that pressed against his light-grey suit jacket. It was Ulysses Frost.

Gregory Pike looked at Varick with delight. “Well-well-well, what do we have here? Up and about at this hour? I would’ve thought a fragile geezer like you would be getting his beauty rest, Varick.”

Ulysses Frost raised an eyebrow. “Pike, who is this?”

“That’s John Varick. Part of the Legion.”

Varick’s grip tightened on Lee’s collar as he spoke: “It was you two? Firing off rockets from the truck at First Bank?”

Pike narrowed his eyes. “Now-now, what have you been telling him, Lee?”

“Doesn’t really matter, he’s going to be dead anyway,” Lee said, laughing. Varick’s eyes flashed and he drove an elbow into Lee’s head—his limp body dropped to the floor.

Pike let out a deep rumbling laugh. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to do to Mr. Lee. Maybe I’ll return the favor in his stead.” He cracked his overly large knuckles. In response, Varick raised his fists and took a Muay Thai stance. Like many of the elite fighters in the Legion, he had been through rigorous training and had several martial art disciplines at his disposal. As Pike advanced, Varick took a step back while keeping his fists raised.

Before Pike could get any closer, Ulysses Frost extended his arm to block his path. “No, I’ll handle this. If he gets past me, he’s yours to finish.”

Pike smiled. “Fine by me.”

Varick stared at his new opponent. “And who are you?”

“That would be Ulysses Frost,” Pike replied on behalf of Frost. “You’re going to have your hands full.”

Varick scowled. “I’ve heard the name. A cold-blooded killer, pure and simple.”

“That’s right,” said Frost. “Then I’m sure you know what’s in store for you.” Frost eyed a heavy metal chain coiled around a pulley hoist: i
t was rusted brown
. He casually walked towards the pulley and forcefully pulled and detached the chain from the hoist. He draped the chain around his neck and wrapped it around both his arms. The ends of the chain dragged on the floor as he walked towards Varick.

“Oh, and here’s a tip, Frost. I’m sure his left side has some injuries—his left arm as well. Probably still numb where I punched him.” Varick’s eyes grew wide. Pike chuckled. “Yeah, Varick, I know there’s no way you can recover from one of my punches. Not this soon. When I punch...things
break
.” Varick knew he wasn’t at full strength with his rib injury. He was going to be slower and he had to guard his weakness. But the fact that his enemies knew... This fight was going to be
hell
.

The slightest trace of a smile crossed Frost’s face. If anything, he looked even more menacing when trying to smile. “Let’s test it out.” Varick bared his teeth, anticipating the worst. Frost lashed out at Varick with the chain. It smashed against the floor, an instant after Varick leapt out of the way. Digging his fingers into floor’s diamond treads, Varick turned on a dime, lunged forward, and fired off a punch at Frost. Frost simply raised his arm and allowed Varick’s fist to connect with his chain-wrapped forearm. Having Varick in such close proximity, Frost immediately followed up with a headbutt.
He went down
. “Get up!” Frost snarled, bringing down the chain, right by Varick’s feet. He rolled out of the way, locked his legs around Frost’s ankles, and managed to topple his top-heavy opponent.
But
Frost’s reflexes were quick
. He kicked out hard and managed to catch Varick in his injured ribs.

“Argh!” Varick crawled backwards on the floor, holding his side. He gritted his teeth; the pain was
excruciating
.

“You shouldn’t have come here...Legion scum.” Frost was back on his feet. Varick’s eyes scoured the garage for anything that could aid in his fight. A piece of thin sheet-metal was leaning against the wall. He scrambled across the floor to reach it. Frost watched him, amused. “Crawl on the floor like a dog.” Varick picked up the panel as Frost whipped the chain. Varick held out the sheet-metal firmly in front of him as the chain smashed against it. The clang of metal on metal echoed through the garage; the sheet-metal vibrated in Varick’s hands. As Frost reeled in his chain, Varick hurled the sheet-metal like a Frisbee. It spun forward, clipping Frost at the shins, and ripped clean through his right trouser leg. “Bastard!” Frost screamed out, while falling down face-first. He lifted himself up quickly, expecting Varick to capitalize, but it was clear he was still suffering from the kick to the ribs. Varick was keeping a safe distance and holding his side. He opened and closed his right hand, trying to get some feeling back after striking the chain. Frost examined his own wound: the cut was deep, and his trouser leg was soaked in blood. “I’ll make sure to tear your flesh too, Varick.” Frost looked down at the rusted chain in his hand and smiled. “Hope you’ve had your tetanus shots.”

Pike had his arms folded in front of him while he watched the fight with amusement. “You gotta watch out for this one, Frost. He’s tenacious.”

Varick stood his ground as Frost advanced on him. Another lashing—this time, Varick braced himself and allowed the chain to wrap around his arm. His jacket provided some padding, but it still stung like hell. Varick charged forward and delivered a flying knee under Frost’s chin.
He stumbled
. Varick managed to get behind Frost, controlling the chain and crossing it over Frost’s neck. Frost spluttered as the chain pressed tight against his windpipe. Varick held the chain firmly and pulled with all his strength.
Go down, you bastard!
Frost decided not to fight against Varick’s pull and, instead, backpedalled hard—the chain ran slack, and Varick lost his balance. Frost collided with Varick and kept backpedalling until he smashed Varick into the worktable and they both toppled over it. Frost stood up and picked up the chain end wrapped around Varick’s forearm and swung him
around full circle. The chain uncoiled from Varick’s arm and sent him crashing to the floor. He was winded. Varick struggled to get to his feet. Frost brought down the chain, and this time, it found its mark. Another lashing, across his side. Varick screamed out in pain. Varick covered his face as the chain came down again and again. Frost generated so much whip in the chain that Varick could feel his arms being shredded right through his jacket. Frost let the chain dangle on the floor while he looked down at Varick, admiring his handiwork. Varick groaned—he couldn’t do anything more. He was totally defeated. He couldn’t even bring himself to raise his arms to defend himself. He simply lay there, limp.
 

“No more fight?” Frost waited for an answer.

Varick groaned feebly. “Go to
hell
.”

Frost gazed down at Varick, his eyes glowing malevolently. “
You first.
”
He raised the chain...
 

BANG! A gunshot shattered the garage window and took out a light. Another two shots were fired—i
t went pitch black inside the garage
.

“What the hell is this?! Who’s out there!?” Pike bellowed.

Varick could hear footsteps, shuffling, and scraping.
What now?
He listened carefully. Then, one by one, Varick heard the sound of metal canisters hitting the garage floor and the hissing of gas being released. The effects were quick. Varick’s head was feeling light, and his mind was going fuzzy. Within moments, he lost consciousness.
 

***

Varick woke up in a haze. He blinked several times and felt cold air on his face. He was looking up at the stars. Laura Bennett’s face popped up in front of his. “How’re you feeling, John?”

“I thought I told you to call me Varick,” he mumbled weakly.

“Well, Henry calls you John, so add my name to that list, John-John.” Varick tried to sit up and realized he was on a stretcher, pinned to it by a blanket. He whipped off the blanket and leaned forward, but Laura pushed him back down. “Relax, you shouldn’t be moving around...” She smiled at him. “We gotta stop meeting like this, with you all dinged up.”

Varick groaned and rubbed his neck. “What the hell happened?”

“Knockout gas—sorry about that, John,” Henry replied. “We didn’t have much choice, given the situation.” Henry Schucker and Roy Cameron had joined Laura by Varick’s stretcher.

Varick looked up at the three police officers and, despite his injuries, managed a crooked smile. “The gang’s all here, eh?”

Roy surveyed the perimeter. “Yeah, you can say that.”

Varick raised an eyebrow and sat up. He was outside the garage, where there were several squad cars parked and many officers combing the scene. An EMT pushed past Roy, Henry, and Laura. “I’m sorry, we need to move this man into the ambulance.”

Varick shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

“Sir, you’ve received multiple lacerations across your arms and torso. We
need
to take you to the hospital to receive medical treatment.”
 

“They’re scratches...” Varick hopped off the stretcher and groaned in pain. He felt his injured side. “But the fight probably set my ribs back another three weeks though.
Goddamn
.”

The EMT huffed. “Alright, do you want then.” She irritably carted away the empty stretcher.

Laura smacked Varick on the forehead, to his annoyance. “You really are thick, you know that? Let me see.”

Varick took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. There were deep tears on his forearms where the chains had struck him.

Roy winced. “Ouch—that looks pretty rough.”

“They broke flesh through the jacket. I never actually came in contact with the chains, so it should be fine.” Varick felt the chain cuts under his shirt. “Yeah—it’ll be fine.”

Laura shrugged. “Your call, I guess.”

Varick’s mind suddenly began to race as he regained his bearings. “Wait, I still don’t know what happened—where are they? Pike, Frost, and the driver.”

Roy gave Varick a thumbs-up. “We got ‘em. It’s a good thing we arrived when we did—Laura, Henry, and I saw you through the window, so we took out the lights and tossed in the gas. We called for backup and here we are now, all outside.”

“Great work, John,” Henry added. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have gotten these guys.”

Laura nodded in agreement. “We also found weapon supplies and information to several other chop shops, inside the garage. This is a big win.”

Roy chuckled. “Yeah,
literally
. It’s kind of ironic that we didn’t have the facilities to hold that big fella with the extreme case of jaundice; and now, the armored truck they used at First Bank is what’s holding him captive.” Varick looked to where Roy was pointing. Sure enough, the armored truck was parked outside, and there were two officers in the front seats. Pike was locked up in the back of the truck. “They had the keys and everything in the garage. That truck is seriously heavy duty. Found a big store of weapons in the back as well. Naturally, we took them out before putting the big guy in there...”