The Ghost Ch. 02

He knew that it was nearly impossible to differentiate among the corrupted; the businessperson is a politician, the politician is a thug, and the thug is a businessperson. Could he be the sort of man that challenges single handedly such corruption? Is he the same man who returned from war with a softer heart, only to bury his family, and then to avenge their deaths? It seemed he was not, as he grew into his own destiny. He certainly had a deeper understanding of the dimensions of his conflict, and a finer appreciation of his reasoning for his personal war.

The ghost will be causing havoc for the corrupted and criminal underworld until there are no more or he takes his last breath. He put the rental into gear and headed to the fourth hangar down. The private plane fueled and ready to go back to Kansas, so he could get his plans in place. His chess pieces ready for infiltrating the crime lords now he had addresses. Vladimir would be coming for him, so he would be first, and if Guijosa gets it too, well so be it.

According to Armando, he needed to go to Seattle. It was necessary and would be brutal to go at it alone, but he would manage. Lawson had always worked with a team, and lately with a partner, but Miami had assured him he could do things more swiftly and focused by himself. Seattle, it would be.

*******************

July 19th, 2019

Las Vegas Nevada, Guijosa's penthouse

"You need to be calm Vladimir! This person was lucky, it's not like he can get to the entire organization."

"Juan, I don't understand why you are being so calm about this. You heard what Joey Tocco said about those pins. That's special ops, and we don't know if it was one or twenty that hit."

DiNunzio looked at the two who were staring each other down and took the last of his bourbon. "Tell you what Vlad, Joey and I will handle this issue ourselves. I have connections in the military. Maybe I can find out who was sent to ambush you and your friend, eh."

"My name is Vladimir, Мудак."

Vincent just chuckled as he and Joey left the penthouse along with his five other henchmen. Juan looked down at the floor, then back at Vladimir. "Why must you disrespect him?"

"He doesn't respect me Juan, he never has."

Juan rubs his chin, "You never told me you had dealings with him before Vladimir."

"I never thought I'd have any trouble out of him since I'm with you. Our business is very profitable, and my forces have tripled since joining you. You would think he would respect me more."

"Let me work on him. You need to go back home and work on what we talked about. We need those routes opened from your country as fast as possible. The Coast Guard came down quickly on us, so you might have a leak. Make sure there are no wrinkles this time."

Vladimir sneered at Juan, "My men don't rat, or they die. I will see to it."

As he walked out the room and out of the penthouse, Juan dialed Refugio who was still in Mexico. "Refugio, I need you to do me a favor. I want you to check out some records on Special Ops out of Florida and Texas."

"Is something wrong, boss?"

"No Refugio, just curiosity. Let me know what you find out." He hung up the phone, with a churning in his gut. It felt familiar, and he hoped he was wrong. He was told the man was dead, but what if he wasn't.

**************

Kansas City, Kansas

"Mark, you know Kelsey will be pissed you're in town and not seeing her."

"She'll get over it. I don't want her to go with me on this mission. It's too dangerous."

Rosa and Scott looked at each other and shook their heads. Rosa spoke, "Why do it then Mark? You have a new identity, a new lease on life. Stop this madness, this war you've created against something you can never win."

Mark's eyes seemed to change from the ice-cold blue to black. "Rosa, of all people I thought you would understand. These cartels, these thugs rip families apart. They feed our children drugs, take them and sell them to sick adults, make them warriors to a war they want no part of, and you want me to stand back and let it happen. Look what it did to your family. My family." His voice trailing off.

Scott came over and patted his shoulder, "The car is ready, everything is in the trunk. I even installed the computer in the front seat for you just in case."

"Thanks Scotty, I owe you more than I can count."

"Your friendship is all I ask in repayment."

Mark shook the man's hand and looked at Rosa who quickly turned away with a tear running down her cheek. He had said some harsh words to her, but it was something that had to be said. She understood he was sure of it, and he was also sure Kelsey understood why he did not take her along. This might be a one-way trip, and he was the one who started the war.

***********

July 22nd, 2020

Seattle Washington

Mark arrived in Seattle a day before to check the intel given to him. The addresses given to him by Armando were good but only one building was being occupied by Vladimir's men. It was a warehouse out on Commencement Bay in Tacoma with easy access by ships, trains and trucks. Mark knew through Rosa that the Coast Guard and Customs were checking harder on cargo coming into ports of late.

The traffic in and out of the warehouse seemed to be more by box truck or vans in the twelve hours he had been watching. He felt that their import or staging area was located somewhere else. With Scott's help he drove to an airport a few minutes away, where he was hooked up with a friend of Scott's. They had worked together at Boeing before, but this guy was kicked out for some reason, and Lawson had no inkling to know why.

He was introduced to an older pilot that had flown in Nam and was more than happy to take Lawson on an expedition trip. The pilot took Lawson above the ports, and across the island's northwest of Tacoma and Seattle. As they were flying, Lawson noticed the speedy boat that was docking at the warehouse daily speeding north toward some islands.

He pointed the boat out to the pilot, and he nodded at Mark. They followed the boat to an island called Center Island. He noticed the boat docked what looked like a private location. It led to a stone pathway into the wooded area where you could make out a house and several outbuildings. They were big enough to be a warehouse themselves. As the pilot flew over the island, Mark also noticed the runway near the south end of the island.

The pilot took a sharp turn and headed south toward Seattle abruptly. "Sorry about that sir, but they watch for strange aircraft and watercraft around here. It is a private island with a population under fifty. You have to have an invitation to land or dock on it."

Lawson nodded his head, but his mind was already planning on how he would get on the island and it would be tonight. When they landed back at the airport, he was met by Scotty's friend, Nathan.

"Did you find what you were looking for sir?"

"Your pilot is the best there is it seems. Maybe I could use him for a couple more days?" He threw over two bundles of cash to the man. He raised his eyebrows and studied the rolled-up cash.

"This should cover the plane rental and the fuel, what about paying my pilot?"

"I will pay him directly if you don't mind. I need him at a standby."

Nathan looked at the older pilot who nodded his head with a steady grin. "Fine by me, he's seldom used anyway."

Looking over at the older pilot as Nathan walked away. "Want a drink with me?"

"If you're buying."

******************

Vladimir sat in the house watching Rugby on the TV. He was relaxed, and not worried about anyone finding his operations on the private island. All his properties in Washington but the island had been raided by the government. His operations expanded to Oregon down the coast to Los Angeles over the years, but Seattle felt like home.

Vladimir's life in Russia was much different than here in the states. When he was eight his father was killed in the Georgian Civil War. His mother and he were left with nothing, so they moved in with his grandparents who raised him as his mother worked two jobs to help feed him. She became very ill and died of pneumonia two years later.

When he turned seventeen, he joined the military. His options were exceedingly small compared to those who had money and could go to university. His anger and bitterness for losing his parents came out as aggression while in the military. Many times, he acted valiantly, and his commanders were impressed, and he was accommodated for his efforts. He was even promoted to be in the Spetsnaz, or the Special Forces.

He met Sergei in the unit he was assigned to in Tolyatti. They quickly became friends and confided with each other. Both having similar backgrounds, their issues with the government and how they treated their families after the loss of their fathers, made them bond even more. He and Sergei served together for a total of three years before the incident that caused them to be kicked out and almost sent them to Siberia.

The scar across his broad chest reminded him each day that no man would ever manhandle him again. Even if they are someone in authority. If it had not been Sergei pulling him off the commander, he would have killed him with his bare hands. He was not allowed to return to his hometown as he brought shame to the family name, so he came to America where he found Nikoli Petrov, the Russian mob's hitman. The rest as you say is history. He smiled at the memories, while both good and bad, the worse memories always led to wonderful ones, as he was always coming out on top.

He glanced down at the pin on the table in front of him. His anger and want of revenge spilled over so that he had to close his eyes and breathe in through his nose and out his mouth several times to calm himself. Opening his eyes, he returned watching the rugby match, smiling.

In the air approaching the island was Lawson inside the old UH-1 Huey. The pilot spoke over the intercom to the younger man in black. "They'll hear us coming a mile away, why did you choose this one?"

"Nostalgia."

The older pilot, Retired Colonel Stanley Morrison laughed as he expertly maneuvered the heavy bird barely above the water. Lawson put his two newly acquired HK45T's around his shoulders in their holsters. He had his .40 Calibers on his right hip and in his back waistband. Extra clips on his vest and belt, as he left his bigger toys on shore.

Stanley yelled at Lawson over his coms, "I'll try and make it as soft as a landing for you as possible." As they approached the island, all lights were off on the battle-ready chopper. The experienced pilot flew this mission hundreds of times in Vietnam, this was a walk in the park. Mark took the headset off, putting his night vision on, ready for the touch and go.

The Huey echoed off the trees from all directions making it hard for anyone to find the direction it was coming from. Vladimir's men investigated the sky when he came out of the house looking toward the dock. The boat had not returned yet, so his only out would be the private plane by the runway if something was going on. As fast as Stanley touched the earth, he was up in the air once again, climbing upward and making a huge turn in the sky purposely going over Vladimir's property.

Lawson maneuvered to the south of the property instead of a straight line to avoid running into anyone heading to the runway. The main house was approximately a hundred feet from the boat dock, well above sea level. The grounds were maintained and manicured professionally with covered walkways leading to what seemed to be a bunkhouse and two large buildings side by side constructed out of corrugated metal, like small warehouses. Trees surrounded all the buildings making great cover from overhead.

He moved silently along the low fog settling in pausing occasionally, to read his surroundings, making his way to the metal structures. He heard voices in front of him and to the right of him where the bunkhouse was located. The voices were talking about the helicopter that had passed overhead. Looking and listening, he figured about a dozen men were on the grounds.

He settled between two large trees and watched the scene unfold before him. A large man walked from the house and yelled at the others. They formed and he gave them instructions, then retreated to the house. From the description Armando gave him, he knew it had to be Vladimir Sokolov.

Two men with AK's started to walk over toward his position, both looked to be in their early twenties. The short one was smoking a cigarette, while the tall one had his eyes to the ground. The short one looked around and started talking to the taller one so nobody could hear him. "This sucks that we have to stand on watch because of an idiot in a chopper."

"The boss said so Renny, we signed up for this gig, we do what he says."

"I signed up to be a forklift driver, not a gun toting bodyguard. Now instead of getting some sleep, we must keep watch on this island. For what?"

The taller man grabbed the shorter one by the shoulder, "Renny, you might not like it, but it is our assignment. You go that way toward the docks, I will go this way, we'll meet on the other side. Think you can handle that?" The smaller one nodded, turning and started walking toward the docks. Lawson looked toward the warehouse doors and noticed a man at the entrance of both and at each corner of the house armed with AK's as well.

Vladimir looked across the grounds from inside, his gut churned. He phoned Juan, "Have you heard anything on what happened in Miami?"

"Amigo calm down. Our Italian friends are on top of it. They know a few people who are still active and are looking at the ones who aren't. We will find who did this. Have you moved the product yet?"

"I'm taking it inland early in the morning. The coast guard seems to be backing off the smaller craft."

"Bueno Vladimir! That is such good news. I will let my buyers know they can always count on you my Russian friend. Get some sleep, I expect you on the first boat inland."

"Ok Juan, just call me when you know more on whoever was in Miami."

The phone went dead, with Vladimir letting out a huff. He thought to himself if he was in Russia, nobody would dare speak or treat him the way Juan did. He would be ordering the puny man around instead. Looking over the grounds once again, he watched the men standing guard. Only eight of the twenty were experienced, with most of his men inland preparing for the shipment and distribution of products.

He settled into the couch once again and looked at the Rugby game that was almost over. His eyes felt heavy, so he decided to try and relax. Who would find him and his private island anyway? He was safe here more than anywhere else in this dreaded world. Sleep came easily, as the Rugby match was just background noise to his dreams awaiting him.

Lawson had made his way to the other side of the bunkhouse. He counted five men inside sleeping, so they would be out of commission until the fireworks started, which he hoped did not happen too soon. He put some charges against the far wall, arming them to the switch he carried. He heard something to the left of him, finding the shorter man, Renny from before. He was still mumbling to himself, not paying attention to his surroundings.

Mark came in behind the young man quietly, noticing the man's hand was not even near the trigger. Coming quickly upon him he covered the man's mouth, whispering, "Don't move, or I'll kill you. Nod if you understand." He nodded slowly, as Mark took the AK out of his hand and threw it in the bushes. "Consider yourself a lucky kid, I don't like killing someone who isn't wanting a part of the war themselves." He took the butt of his gun and knocked him over the back of the head, as the man fell to the ground in a heap. Mark hooked his hands under his armpits and dragged him behind the bushes and trees, covering him with some twigs after tying his hands and feet. He then stuffed his mouth with the man's own stocking cap.

Making his way to the makeshift warehouses, he noticed the two men that were at the doors seemed more restless, as they were walking now back and forth. He noticed these were just like the last one, just a kid compared to what he had come across before. It churned in his gut what men would do to sensationalize the life of crime. Setting some charges along the warehouses, he then changed his focus back to the guards.

Finding some pebbles, he threw them to his left causing the one closest to him to stop and focus that direction. "Renny, that you? Doug? Did you hear that Matt?"

"I didn't hear nothing man."

"You're too high, don't know why they picked you for the first watch. I'm going to check it out."

"Whatev..." Matt fired up what looked to be another joint as he watched his friend go. He turned his back and looked over at the house, wishing he were there watching tv, maybe eating. He was craving some snacks, especially chips. As the other man walked to the tree line, Lawson came behind Matt, watching his surroundings and grabbed the man from behind. He put him in a choke hold until he felt him go limp, then he twisted his arm and heard a crack, the man fell to the ground against the building.

He left him there like he was sleeping and moved up toward the other tree line. Running across two other guards, he used his knife to silent them and across the backside of the house, he found two more guards. They were in the light, and he could not take out one without the other noticing him. Using one of his HK45T's he aimed and took a shot, the quiet phoot sound barely heard by an animal. As quickly as the man fell off the deck, the second also fell both dead without a sound.

He heard the man returning to his post by the warehouse talking to his friend. "Get up man, they'll kill us if they see you sleeping on the job." The phoot sound was made once again, and the lanky man fell next to his friend. Mark went up the back deck, looking into the windows, only finding empty rooms. They were bedrooms, one huge master suite. Lawson felt it was weird that none were occupied this late at night. Setting charges on the outside walls, he proceeded.

He went to his left which was the side facing the water, encountering two more guards nonchalantly standing next to the bannister. Two quick shots from the HK's sent them backwards over the deck. As he moved toward the front, he was about to round the corner, when the unmistakable sound of an AK-47 was heard, shortly by fragments of wood of the deck around him spraying in the air.

Plastering himself against the wall, he knew that the entire place would be awake now. The shots were coming from above him, and he heard voices now coming from his right. Sticking one of the charges on the wall, he jumped away to his left diagonally firing upward shooting the man from atop the roof. He then rolled toward the voices and fired several times taking out the two men coming around the corner.

Vladimir woke from the gunfire, grabbing his own MP-443 Grach, turning off the TV and the lights in the room. Going to the corner of the window looking out, he found two of his guards standing at the front door looking to his left. Three more were running toward the house from the bunkhouse. Two more shots rang out and one of the three fell to the ground.

Vladimir looked toward his left through the window and found his men firing at nothing it seemed. He went to the master bedroom and looked out that window and found two dead bodies, and a shadow in the corner of the house. He made his move by slowly opening the large sliding door just enough to get his arm extended.

Mark heard something from behind him and as he moved his position, he heard the shot and felt the burning pain searing through the flesh of his right thigh. Falling onto his back, he fired back, shattering the window, hearing someone yelp, then watched as they moved to take cover. He hurried to take cover himself, as he crawled under the last board off the deck into the bushes.