Blasted Read online

  My hearing was returning, and for the first time since the battle had truly joined I heard my old friends voice, perhaps for the last time.

  “It is just like old times, Blast,” Ravage managed to grunt. “You still have no honor.”

  And then he was gone. I’d won.

  -13-

  If Ravage survived, he’d regroup and come after me for a rematch at a time of his choosing. Yeah, I should have killed him when I had the chance, but it was too late to do anything about it now, and his odds of survival were extremely low, even for him. But his visit had pretty much made up my mind as to what course I had to take. I had to take out Adrian Moore.

  I was pretty badly beaten up, but a quick stop for a sandwich and a beer did wonders.

  On the drive over to the Moore estate, I wondered if I should have gone to check on Holly. She might be dead or she might be alive, I had no idea. But I couldn't afford to have her as a liability. She’d proven herself in the past, but I didn’t want to push my luck. Or hers.

  The Moore house was quiet when I pulled up to it. There were lights on, but no signs of life. This was all going to be a huge waste of time if the bastard wasn’t home. I decided to sit in the car and watch the house for a while. Maybe I’d get lucky and spot him.

  I sat listening to the oldies station on the radio. As the tunes from the sixties and seventies droned on in the night, I began to think about the file. No matter how complete the dossier on me was, it was still pitifully lacking. Where was I when I first heard the Stones? Did I used to like this song? Who was the first dame I took to bed? Who was my best friend as a kid? It was all trivial. All the trivial little bullshit that taken alone means squat. But when you put all the little trivialitiesr and seemingly inconsequential banalities of everyday existence together with a handful of big moments, you had your life. And that’s what I’d been missing all these years. A goddamn life. Those fucks in the CIA had turned me into an automaton and it had taken me years to even realize it. And somehow, because of all this shit with Moore, I’d found Holly and together we were working at making me a human being again. There was hope for me yet. All because of an angel named Holly.

  I was so deep in my self pity that I almost missed the armed sentry stroll by the main gate. He had an Uzi in his mitts. It was good enough for me. So what if Moore wasn’t there. I’d decimate his goddamn personal army and then wait for him to get home.

  I got out of the car and grabbed a pair of my own Uzis. I tucked a couple of .45s in my belt and slung a few hundred rounds of ammo over my shoulders. This time I didn’t need any urging to go into the Kill Zone. My blood was boiling. I was going to kill everything that breathed.

  My first volley of shots blew the sentry’s head apart, liquefying it. The noise of the shots alerted everyone inside and immediately the sky started to rain hot lead. I screamed at the top of my lungs and threw myself into the barrage.

  I sprayed the house with bullets, taking chunks of brick off. I didn’t see everyone that I killed, but I saw a lot of 'em. Heads exploding, guts pouring out of torn apart abdomens, bones breaking through skin. All around me I heard the cries of the wounded and dying. It was music to my ears. I was probably hit in half a dozen places, but none of them were killing blows. Adrian should have hired better goons. I was bleeding, but I’d live—at least long enough to put a slug in Moore’s skull.

  It took me a little while to finish them off, but when my guns finally went quiet, not one of them was in any condition to even whimper for mercy. The ground was red and wet, thick with blood. My boots made a sick slapping sound as I climbed the steps to the front door. The door was ajar.

  I poked my head in. The place was a wreck. Bullets had torn the place apart and bodies lined the rooms and corridors. Nothing stirred. I entered the house and walked through the rubble, looking for any signs of life. Nothing. No sign of Moore, though, either. Good. I wanted to look into his eyes when I blew the life through the back of his skull.

  There was no sign of him in the house, but I still hadn't checked out the basement, where Aryan and Ajax had tortured me. I walked to the door, knelt down, and put my ear to the wood. I had to stifle a laugh. They were trying to be quiet, but when you've got that many men and guns in that small of a space there's no such thing as silence. I stepped back from the door and checked my Uzis. They were both running short on ammo from my rampage. There were plenty of weapons scattered among the bodies, but I chose my good ol' .45s. Down in those cramped quarters they'd be at a disadvantage. I could shoot whoever the hell I wanted to, but they'd have to be careful or they'd end up doing my work for me. The tricky part would be getting inside the door and down the stairs without getting my head blown off, but I had an idea.

  I grabbed two of the bodies that littered the floor and dragged them over to the door. I held the biggest of the two dead guys directly in front of me with my left hand and the smaller guy in front of him. I held the big guy up by his armpit, with my left hand clutching his AK-47. I blew the lock off the door and kicked it open. Immediately I was under a barrage of bullets and felt the big guy's body jerking under the impact of the slugs. I started walking down the stairs, made it two or three steps and then tossed the smaller guy down on top of the shooters. For a couple of seconds they thought they had me; that I'd been hit and tumbled down the stairs. It was all the time I needed.

  I tossed the big guy's corpse aside and jumped into the fray. My .45s barked a dozen times before I ran out of ammo. I took about ten of the fifteen gunmen out, but I still didn't see Moore. I took a bullet to the arm -- a flesh wound -- before I grabbed an AK-47 off the floor and finished the job.

  I figured that the gunmen were buying Moore time to escape, but I didn't see any other way out of the basement. I ran up the stairs and bolted out the door in time to see Moore's BMW race out of the gates.

  The SUV wasn't going to be fast enough to catch the BMW, but I spotted some fancy foreign job in the driveway and raced over to it. In seconds I'd shattered the driver's side window and had the car on the road, racing after Moore.

  If there's one thing I hate, it's foreign cars. I prefer the big American gas guzzlers, not that foreign shit. Something like a big eight cylinder Chevy or Dodge has personality; it's got balls. Those little tin cans those foreigners make have got nothing. No guts, no balls, no attitude. But I wasn't driving a Kia or Toyota or Honda this time. The Audi I borrowed from Moore had some power.

  Moore was doing about 90 down the city streets, but I was gaining ground on him. He didn't have anything to lose. Whether it was a car wreck or a bullet, he knew he was a dead man. Me, well I was still heavily in the Kill Zone. With my enhanced senses and complete lack of fear, there was no way Moore was going to escape.

  I was about half a block behind him when Moore tried to take a sharp left. It was a mistake. He lost control of the BMW, rolling up into a sidewalk café. I reduced my speed, pulled the car to a stop, and got out. As I approached the wreckage I could see that Moore's accident had killed at least two civilians and injured maybe a half dozen more.

  I stood away from the scene as I watched Moore struggle free of his seat belt. It was a challenge for him since the car had come to a rest on its roof. Once the seatbelt was released he dropped to a heap on the ceiling of his car and then slowly crawled out the window. His face was bleeding, but it was all from minor cuts. Still, it was good to see him suffering.

  He shakily got to his feet and looked around. It was only then that his eyes met mine and he knew he was dead. For a big time gangster who'd probably never known fear, he was learning fast. Terror swept across his face and he broke into a run. I casually took aim with my .45 and shot him in the foot. He dropped to the ground, but he wouldn't give up. He just kept moving, crawling on his elbows, dragging his lame foot behind him.

  All around us was complete chaos. People screaming and crying. The wounded moaning and pleading for help. Sirens wailed in the distance. Everybody was in a state of shock. Hardly anybody noticed us. But
Moore and me, we didn't notice anything else going on around us either. Above all the noise I heard him grunting with effort and heard the slow scrape of his foot being dragged behind him. I walked over to him and blocked his "escape".

  "You fucker," he spat. "Do you realize what you've done?"

  I kept staring at him, waiting for him to look up at me. Trying to set aside the impulse I had to just blow his goddamn head off. He just kept swearing at me and mumbling into the dirt. I finally had to drop to my haunches and pull his head up by his hair so I could look him in the eye.

  "Where are your protectors now, Adrian?" I taunted him. "That's right. They're all dead. Your whole operation's ruined. You die a complete failure."

  He just looked at me. He was mad, but he had this crazy notion that he was going to die like a man; that he wouldn't cry and beg me for his worthless life. I had other ideas.

  The cops had to be moments away by now, so I used the chaos to drag Moore by his hair into an alley. We'd have at least a few more minutes to finish our business.

  All of a sudden, he got real talkative, like he could somehow convince me not to kill him.

  "Have you read the file, Scott?" he asked.

  I gotta admit that it threw me for a loop, but I should have seen it coming. He knew damn near everything about me that I did. He'd try to use it, but I wasn't going to let him.

  "You have, haven't you? Then you know who I am. You know that my real name is Adrian Clark."

  I just stood there and took it. He wasn't laying any surprises on me. The file had it all. All the details about me -- and my family.

  "I'm your brother, Scott. All I ever wanted was for you to take your rightful place by my side, but I had to make sure you were ready. There were, shall we say, other interested parties."

  I heard his words, but they had no effect on me. I'd known it before and still hunted him down. I just shook my head. It was all such a goddamn waste.

  "Don't you hear me, Scott? I'm your brother!"

  I looked him square in the face as I shoved the .45 into his chest. I wanted to shoot him in the head, but I wanted his body to be easily identified.

  "I don’t remember ever having any brother,” I said, drawing his face right up to mine so that our noses were almost touching,

  The .45 barked and Moore's body bucked in my hands. He only had a few seconds of life left. He was muttering something. I caught a couple of words and put my ear right up against his mouth so I could hear every word. Seconds later he was dead.

  And I was wishing that I'd just put a bullet in his head when I'd had the chance.

  -14-

  The shot had alerted the cops, who were swarming the scene. As I jumped to my feet and broke into a run, I heard a cop shout. I’d fucked up. If I’d just snapped his neck I could have gotten away clean. It would be tough now. I looked like hell, shot up and bleeding. I didn’t want to kill any cops, but I would if I had to. There was still one last piece of the puzzle to slide into place.

  I had a little bit of a head start on the cops, but not much. And I didn’t have any wheels. I'd stupidly let the cops get between me and the Audi. Another mistake. This is why you don't let emotions in when you're on a job. But getting a car wouldn’t really be a problem. I just had to get far enough ahead of the cops to boost one.

  From the noises they were making—the sounds of their voices and their feet—I could tell there were at least four of them in pursuit. I ran down the alley as fast as I could. I was finally able to round a corner, getting out of sight, and duck into a darkened doorway. Luck was with me for once and the cops ran past me, never looking back. I’d bought myself a few minutes, but it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out what I’d done and they’d be back.

  I checked the door where I was hiding. It was locked, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I rammed my shoulder into the door and snapped the lock. I found myself in the back of the kitchen of a Greek restaurant. Luck was still with me. No one saw me sneak through the kitchen and into the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and set to work cleaning myself up. It was a lost cause. My clothes were torn and bloodstained. I did the best I could with my hands and face, and looked a lot better leaving the bathroom than I did when I’d entered.

  I walked out to the front door, drawing a couple of glances, but nothing too alarming. I scanned the street and, not seeing any cops, walked out the front door and around the corner to the parking lot. I grabbed the first car with an open door and was driving out of the parking lot in a matter of minutes. I just needed ten minutes, then I could ditch the car and get away clean.

  It was a fairly uneventful drive. I spotted a couple of black and whites, but they were none the wiser. Until the heap I was driving was reported stolen, they had no way to know where I was.

  I made one stop before I headed to the motel. I parked a couple of blocks away andwalked the rest of the way. A quick check of the parking lot made me feel a little better, but I still listened at the door before I went in. There was the dull buzz of the tv, but no voices or anything at all for me to worry about. I knocked on the door.

  “Yeah?” she said roughly.

  “It’s Blast,” I responded.

  The door sprung open and suddenly Holly was in my arms.

  “You’re alive!” she sang.

  I pushed her back into the motel room and followed her in. She shut off the tv as I threw my .45 on the bed. I looked at her. She was beautiful.

  “Yeah. It was rough, but it’s all over now. I ran into Ravage.”

  “I know. Where is he?” she asked, and then dropped her voice a little. “He made it out okay, didn’t he?”

  “He turned on me. We had a bit of a tussle at my place, but he might live.”

  “What are you talking about? He told me he was going to give you a hand.”

  “Well, he lied. Somebody got to him.”

  “Jesus. I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Just a little beat up. Nothing serious.”

  She walked over to where I was standing and took my hands in hers. “What about Adrian?”

  “We don’t have to worry about that mess anymore. He’s dead.”

  Holly dropped my hands. “It’s over? It’s finally over?” she gasped.

  “Just about.”

  “What do you mean ‘just about’. That’s it. We’re free.”

  “I mean, what’s your next move?”

  “What?” she asked cautiously, backing a couple of steps away from me, but not taking her eyes off me.

  “Well, now that Adrian’s dead, I was just wondering if you were going to ask me to join up with you or just kill me,” I said, taking a step towards her.

  “What are you talking about, Steve. Are you okay?”

  “Not yet, but I will be pretty soon.”

  She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read. Partly confused, partly knowing. She knew the score, but she wasn't going to throw in the towel just yet. I took another step towards her.

  "So, before we finish this, are you going to tell me the truth?" I asked.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, Steve, but you're scaring me," she lied.

  I dug into my pocket and pulled out a computer disk.

  "It's all on here, doll. Adrian told me all about it before he died."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "There was a secret file on the disk you gave me. It made for some pretty interesting reading. I just need to know a couple of things to clear up some annoying questions. Were you ever going to tell me the truth, or were you just going to kill me?"

  "I'd never hurt you, Steve. Not on purpose."

  "Does that mean that you were or you weren't going to tell me the truth. That you're not Holly Samuels at all. That your name is Holly Moore, just like you told me the first time. But even that's a lie. Your real name is Holly Clark.”

  I studied her face as the bombshell dropped. I didn't like what I saw. Adrian hadn't lied to me. The goddamn piece of shit had t
old me the truth.

  “My sister.”

  "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I told you, I'm D.E.A."

  "Stop lying, Holly. It's all over."

  "Steve, I can explain -- "

  "No need. I've figured the whole thing out. You see, something had been itching in the back of my mind since we first met. Things have been happening so fast that I never got the chance to think it out. When Adrian told me that you were my sister, I didn't want to believe him, but then all the pieces started sliding into place." I paused and looked her square in the eye. She backed away from me, but I kept matching her step for step.

  "That first day in the bar, those goons called you 'Mrs. Moore'. It didn't bother me at the time since I thought that you really were married to Adrian. But then I had a little talk with Adrian and you confirmed what he said. That you weren't his wife, you were D.E.A.. So, if you weren't his wife, then why did the goons call you 'Mrs. Moore'? That one's easy. They weren't Adrian's goons, they were your goons. And that's the rub, isn't it, Holly? This has never been about escaping Adrian's wrath or anything like that, has it? It's been about who controls the mobs, and you two, my dear brother and sister, put me in the center of it. Moore, the fool, thought you were on the same side, working to get me to join the family business. But then you decided to double-cross him and take control of the mobs yourself."

  She finally spoke. "All right, damn you. It's true. Adrian and I worked together for years. We both thought you were dead. And then, a couple of months ago, Adrian bought some information from a CIA traitor, hoping that it would contain the names of undercover D.E.A. agents. It had that and more. When we realized that you were alive, and the type of work you did and training that you'd had, it became a race to see who could recruit you first."

  "And like a sap I bought it all. The whole damsel in distress thing, the big bad Adrian Moore thing. All of it. And the whole time you played me for a fool. I don't know how you did it, but you even managed to turn Ravage against me. The thing I can't figure out is why? Your plan was working, I was about to destroy Adrian, but you send Ravage off to kill me."