Javier (Alpha Heroes #12)

Chapter Thirty-nine

Javier

“Bekker,” I growled like a trapped animal. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“I made sure you can’t manage that at the moment,” the fucked-up merc taunted me, taking in my sorry state. “You’re gonna stay in your bed very quietly, while Missy and I go on a little journey of our own.”

“Don’t—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He pressed his sound-suppressed gun to Missy’s head, pinning me in place. “Change of plans. My boss figures that if we have the Astor baby in hand, Dagger and his stupid band of losers will do whatever he says. So, she gets to live for a little while longer. Shame I can’t say the same for you.”

“You won’t get out of this hospital alive.” Adrenaline pumped through my veins, dispelling the meds and some of the pervasive weakness, focusing my senses, and tensing every muscle in my body. “My team is all over this place.”

“Don’t I know it.” He ripped the surgical cap off his head to reveal his canary yellow hair and the snake on his forehead. “That’s why I won’t shoot you just yet. My boss doesn’t want to leave a trail of murder and cause an international investigation. And yet, some people are cursed with odd occurrences. Shit happens, doesn’t it?”

His smirk forecasted disaster. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“There’s a nice little zoo down the street,” Bekker offered all too casually. “Word is, a worker got bit. Your next-door neighbor brought the animal that bit him for ID purposes. This setup makes the next scenario somewhat plausible.”

Bekker moved. In one swoop, he uncovered the cart, pulled the string of the cloth bag that sat on the top tray, and moving away from the bed, dragging Missy with him, tossed the bag at me.

Reacting on training and instincts, I lifted my injured hand and batted the bag away with my forearm. At the same time, I jumped off the side of the bed, and took cover behind the headboard. I registered the tug of the IV tube and the rip of the tape dragging the canula out of my flesh. I gave zero fucks about that.

Missy was in danger.

Bekker swore. Keeping his hold on Missy and limping from the round I’d put in him during our last encounter, he dragged her to my eleven o’clock, to the furthest corner away from the bed. The motherfucker had assumed I’d be too sick to move. Not that I was feeling great, but he’d miscalculated. I hurt like hell, but the antivenom already in my veins helped and I was trained to operate under duress. Allowing the venom in me to determine my actions was not an option when Missy’s life was on the line.

The cloth bag fell, not on my chest where it had been intended to land, but on the mattress toward the foot of the bed. A low, growling hiss echoed in the room. A massive king cobra slithered out of the bag. It reared up to at least three feet tall, spread its hood, and made direct eye contact… with me.

Fuck . I turned into a statue. Not again .

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Bekker’s quiet chuckles came from the far corner, but my stare was fixed on the riled-up cobra. “I saved her from defanging from one of those fake snake charmers in India. She’s been my partner in crime ever since. I can’t tell you how many times she’s murdered for me. We’re a team.”

No shit, you fucked-up turd .

The snake turned toward Bekker’s voice, maintaining its defensive posture, wavering back and forth in the air. My bare feet felt like ice chunks stuck to the floor. My sweats barely clung to my hips and my breaths came short and sharp. I had to make an effort not to vomit. My legs buckled, but I refused to pass out. Forcing myself to think, I clung to the headboard and locked my knees in place.

Bekker had either staged or caused the snake bite of the person being treated next door. The cobra perched at the end of my bed was long and large. It was a dark olive green, almost black, and striped with tenuous black and white bands. The sunlight pouring through the window glinted on its scales, giving it a coppery glint. The scales under its flared hood were lighter, framing a rounded muzzle. Her forked tongue darted out as we assessed the threat we posed to each other.

My overused snake catalogue popped up in my head yet again. The world’s longest snake on average, the king cobra was highly venomous, but not considered especially aggressive except when threatened by approaching objects or sudden movements. Because of its large size, it had an impressive striking range. It was also capable of delivering several bites in one attack.

Fang-fucking-tastic. Missy’s captured. Bekker will use her as leverage to get whatever Li wants and then murder her in some horrific way. You’re about to die. Again.

I glanced at Missy. Eyes wide, teeth clamped over her lip, her face was locked in a grimace of terror. Her back was plastered against the far wall and her arm was in the clutch of the merc’s left hand. His pistol was in his right hand, aimed at her head. I calculated she stood some twelve feet away from the cobra.

Too close.

I managed a dry swallow.

I was getting sick and tired of Bekker and his damn snakes. If I moved, the cobra would strike. If I didn’t move, the turd might succeed at extracting Missy from the room. Such an attempt had no good ending. If the snake attacked, Missy could die. If Bekker took her, she would also die, albeit slowly, in the hands of a turd who wanted to use her as a hostage and a bargaining tool.

It wasn’t gonna happen. Not on my watch.

I ground my teeth and forced my brain to work. Bekker must’ve left the fight as soon as he spotted our new drone technology entering the battlefield. Knowing that the hospital was my final destination, he’d probably had a way to access it as a backup plan. He’d managed to sneak in, and here we were.

King, Cooper, and Ferranti were likely still looking for him. The merc had infiltrated the hospital, disguised himself in medical gear, laid low, and bided his time. He’d seized his chance when the doctor requested the specialized equipment. Who the hell knew what he’d done to the real technician?

Bekker was a psycho, but he’d devised a plan with many layers and contingencies. He wasn’t stupid, and he’d brought his pet snake along for this trip. I’d fought all kinds of battles before, but never one where the ammunition was alive and venomous.

I was gonna have to improvise again.

The fucked-up turd gave my bed wide berth as he slowly pulled on Missy’s arm. Face pale, lips pressed together, she resisted. She dragged her stare between me and the snake. When the merc jerked her arm, she let out a whimper. The cobra swiveled on its coils and faced her.

My guts turned to ice.

***

Missy

I made a sound, and the cobra turned toward us. It swiveled back and forth, beautiful and lethal, mesmerizing and terrifying.

“Your prey is behind you, sweetheart,” Bekker cooed at the creature, almost tenderly. “Go on. Have a bite.”

I had no idea if reptiles identified their owner’s voices, but this snake’s attention was on movement and noise. Dash and Micah were close by, and yet a cursory look at the door showed me the lock was engaged. I dug my teeth in my lip. Bekker had thought of everything. For all practical purposes, Javier and I were alone and trapped with two dangerous snakes in this room.

In a country where the cobra was not an endemic species and didn’t represent a danger to the population, there would be no antivenom available. Javier’s body was already fighting the Terciopelo’s venom, and a cobra bite would kill him for sure. Fear clamped down on my chest and strangled my throat.

Don’t give up, Missy. Don’t faint . I was giving my vagus nerve a run for its money. Sister Janet’s warning drifted into my head. Whatever happens, don’t let the devil take yer soul and don’t yield to heaven’s call while it’s still yer time on this earth .

The hard touch of steel against my lower back reminded me that I still had Javier’s Glock tucked in the back of my jeans. I had no idea of how many bullets I had left. Using it to kill the snake on the bed was too risky. My likelihood of hitting a fast-moving target was low. The danger of hitting Javier was high. If I missed, the snake would attack. If I accidentally shot Javier, he could bleed out in no time. It struck me then. My target was not the cobra.

Wilbur Bekker’s punishing grip reminded me of my father’s cruelty. Bekker, whose addiction to violence triggered my fears and made me feel small, worthless, and insignificant. Bekker, who would’ve intimidated the old Missy until she was but a quivering puddle of terror.

Go on, become the fierce person you’re meant to be. Sister Elsa’s words echoed in my head. Love hard and love well. That, Missy Astor, is how you find your purpose .

Claiming myself had been a slow, gradual process, but now I knew my purpose: to care for my family and my friends. To protect the man I loved, by whatever means necessary.

It’s up to you . I remembered the voice from my dreams. This time around, I wasn’t going to let Javier down.

The merc pulled me across the room as if I was nothing but a rag doll. He wasn’t afraid of me. He had no expectations that I would resist him. He’d assumed someone like me would not fight back in the face of a gun. The hell with that. I darted out a foot and tipped the chair over. The cobra puffed up at the ruckus.

“What the fuck?” Bekker whisper-barked.

“I tripped,” I lied.

The cobra growled and hissed, its attention now fully on us.

“Well, hello there.” Slowly, I waved a hand in the air to test my theory.

The snake moved from side to side, following my hand’s movements.

“Stop it with the provocation.” The merc dragged me to the opposite side of the room. “She doesn’t like it.”

“I see that.” I tossed a glance at Javier. “It’s fascinating, don’t you think?”

He shook his head ever so lightly. No . The corners of his eyes tightened. Don’t do it.

“Seems to me you’ve put all three of us in a pickle,” Javier spoke and the cobra whirled in his direction. “That snake doesn’t like you anymore than she likes me.”

“She won’t attack me,” Bekker said, but the snake made her own statement, swiveling and growling at him.

“Don’t know about that,” Javier taunted, his rumbling voice recapturing the irritated creature’s attention.

The merc pushed me toward the tall rectangular window and pressed his gun against the back of my head. “Open it,” he hissed, his gaze darting between me and his pet on the bed.

“Um…” I stared at the window, and an icy calm spread through me. “This window doesn’t open.”

“What?” The man eyed the big rectangular glass. His frown revealed his disbelief.

“It’s stationary,” I informed him. “Did you not take this small detail into consideration when you planned the backup to your backup, Bekker?”

“You know my name?” He drew back and glared at me before he reclaimed that awful sneer. “I don’t care.” Keeping his hold on my arm, he pushed me aside. “Get out of my way.”

His movements had the snake turning to us again. The merc aimed his sound-suppressed gun at the window. In an instant, I visualized the scenario he was about the create.

His shots wouldn’t be loud, but the vibrations and glass breakage would rile up his pet. He was counting on Javier moving forward to prevent Bekker from shoving me out of the window. I had no doubt Javier would come after me. The snake would strike at the closest threat: him.

Everything happened at once. The moment Bekker’s gun was no longer pointing at me, I reached back and grabbed the Glock from the back of my pants. Bekker pulled the trigger and loosened his shots. It took several bullets aimed at the same spot, but the window blew out and shattered. In my peripheral view, I spotted the powerful cobra launching. Toward me.

***

Javier

As the snake sprang, I reached out and yanked the blanket from the bed, twisting it at the same time. It caught the cobra’s tail, reducing its momentum. Following through, I hurled the blanket-entangled snake off the bed. The only reason I got away with it was because the snake had already lunged in Missy’s direction and was unable to change course in midair.

Plunk.

The cobra landed in the corner behind the upturned chair. Voices and violent pounding came from the door. Shots rang out in the room, both suppressed and not suppressed.

I pounced toward the corner window, wielding the IV pole as a weapon. Missy and Bekker were entangled in a fight that wasn’t a fair match. Biceps bulging, Bekker enveloped her much smaller form, wrestling her for her gun.

My gun. She’d kept it.

The turd saw me coming. Clutching Missy to his chest with one arm, he lifted his weapon and aimed it at my face. Before he could pull the trigger, I swung the IV pole and struck his hand. Bekker’s gun flew across the space and clanked against the opposite corner. Another shot echoed in the room.

“Missy!”

I shoved the turd off my woman and pummeled him with a punch to the face that sent him flying. I put everything I had into my fist. He landed with a grunt on the floor and didn’t move. Missy stumbled, still holding on to my Glock. I wasn’t exactly solid on my feet, but I caught her. Crimson streaks soaked the front of her top and stained her jeans. Her face was beyond white, transparent. I could see her delicate blue veins beneath her skin.

When her eyes closed, my heart stopped. For once, I pled with the nuns’ God, praying that she’d just fainted. When I thought about the alternative, I felt myself wither and die.