Savage Son (James Reece #3) - Jack Carr Page 0,143
on his belt and felt its weight in his hand. It felt right. Slinging his bow into the skin sheath on his back, he walked into the light.
* * *
Oliver did as he was told and pushed himself to his feet, looking from Ivan to the shape-shifting shadow that emerged from the wilderness. At first Oliver wondered if perhaps Zharkov’s conjecture was not as far off as it had first seemed. Perhaps deities really did roam the tundra guarding it from intruders?
What emerged looked half human, half beast and it wasn’t until the flickering flame caught the creature just right that Oliver saw it was a man. He was covered in animal skins as if he’d taken on their very essence. When the light caught his eyes, Oliver recognized the look of resolve. His executioner had arrived.
“James Reece,” the Russian mafia boss began, almost in disbelief. “I see my source in D.C. has been compromised.”
Even though the specter of the former SEAL had been his constant companion for months, Oliver never imagined that his killer would take the form that appeared before him.
Reece took a moment before responding, his mouth and lungs not accustomed to forming words after not having spoken in the six months since he’d left Medny Island.
“I’d say that’s a safe assumption,” he said. The words were raspy, akin to starting an old car left idle for too long.
Oliver remained silent, his eyes now focused on the evil-looking tomahawk in Reece’s hand.
The elder Russian’s gaze recognized the pelt of the great Siberian brown bear that now adorned the phantom before him.
“And you walked across Siberia to kill us?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Remarkable,” the elder man, said shaking his head. “Before you do, allow me to thank you for putting my son out of his misery. I should have done it myself years ago, but blood, you see. Difficult business.”
“You just allowed Aleksandr to play his sick games on Medny?”
“He was a very highly placed asset in Russian intelligence, and he was family. More of an arrangement of necessity. If transporting a few prisoners to Kamchatka who would have otherwise been executed in the African dirt was the price to pay for controlling a percentage of the diamond and uranium trade, and keeping a source in the Foreign Intelligence Service, then so be it. Sadly, he did have designs on my position, and I fear would have expedited my demise had you not come along.”
Reece shifted his eyes to his new target, the man who had killed his father. The man who had one piece of information Reece needed.
How could this little, balding, frightened, potbellied man have killed Thomas Reece? Don’t underestimate him.
“You have something that belongs to me,” Reece said.
The smaller man’s shaking hand moved to his wrist and removed a stainless steel watch, holding it out toward his judge, jury, and executioner.
Reece stepped forward and took possession of his father’s Rolex. He slid his thumb across its worn face before dropping it into the sheath with his bow.
“Nizar the sniper. Nizar Kattan. The Syrian. Where is he?”
Oliver sensed an opportunity. He might just live through this night if he played his cards right.
“I don’t know.”
“Then you are of no use to me,” Reece responded, raising the tomahawk.
“Wait! Wait! I didn’t say I couldn’t find him. He was part of Andrenov’s network, through General Yedid, both of whom you killed, I believe?”
“Keep talking.”
Oliver acted as though he were deep in thought.
“It will take some doing. He is a freelancer now, but I know his protocols and patterns. I can find him for you, but I can’t do that if I’m dead.”
Reece lowered the ’Hawk. The traitor before him had killed his father using a proxy, stabbing him to death on the streets of Buenos Aires. He’d betrayed his country and helped set up a chemical attack on Odessa, the assassination of the Russian president, and the attempted assassination of the president of the United States. This same traitor just might be the only link to the Syrian sniper who had put a bullet through Reece’s friend as Freddy had thwarted the assassination attempt on the U.S. president. The only reason Freddy was in the path of the assassin’s bullet was Reece. Reece was responsible. Reece needed to find Nizar and put him down. He owed that to Freddy and to Freddy’s wife and children, perhaps even to himself.
His decision made, Reece turned back to Zharkov, a cold breeze picking up and fanning the flames still smoldering in the driveway.