Relentless Pursuit (Matthew Riker Book 4) Read online

  RELENTLESS PURSUIT

  A MATTHEW RIKER NOVEL

  J.T. BAIER

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  1

  Trees streamed like a dark ocean below Riker as they flowed by at one-hundred-and-fifty knots under the UH-60 Black Hawk. Night air bit against his skin and the scent of pines filled his nose, reaching him from the forest below.

  As battle approached, Riker’s heart rate increased, and adrenaline flooded his system. But a lifetime of experience had taught him that his body didn’t need the adrenaline now; more importantly, the adrenaline could be controlled. He steadied his breathing and took a mental inventory of his gear. M4A1 automatic carbine? Check. SIG P226? Check. Night vision goggles? Body armor? Party pack? Check. Steady breathing and clear mind? Check.

  “What’s our ETA?” Riker asked.

  “Three minutes,” Morrison replied.

  Riker nodded. “Be ready. He may try to run once the attack begins.”

  As Morrison glanced over his shoulder, his worn face told Riker more in one look than most men could convey in an entire conversation. Morrison didn’t need anyone to tell him what to expect. Riker might be good, but he still didn’t eclipse his mentor.

  Riker smiled. Working with his former commander had revived a dormant part of him. He had a purpose. A mission. He felt the bond of brotherhood again. It was like he’d never left this life.

  He’d been working with Morrison for six months, ever since leaving the mess he’d attempted to clean up in Kingsport, Iowa. In that time, he’d healed from the injuries he’d taken in Kingsport, but their mission to track down their old nemesis Charles Fraction hadn’t made as much progress as his body had. It had been six months of small steps towards their target. If things went well tonight, they would take a leap forward. The victory would be a much needed one. Progress had been slow, and the danger presented by his enemy had been a constant source of stress.

  The chopper settled onto the ground in a small clearing in the forest. Morrison killed the engine and Riker hopped onto the ground.

  “Remember, we need Ludis alive,” Morrison said.

  Riker gave Morrison the same look his mentor had given him a moment before, a glance that said he didn’t need to hear the obvious.

  “Be careful out there. I’d like you to stay alive as well,” Morrison continued.

  “Roger that.”

  Riker moved in darkness, able to see the world in shades of green through his goggles. He didn’t rush the hike in, keeping his head moving as his eyes swept for scouts and traps. The camp he sought was mobile, but that didn’t mean his targets had neglected a strong perimeter. Riker had no intention of ending his journey with a sloppy step into a tripwire.

  Riker marveled at the complete silence of this night. In the modern world, there was always a hum. Even away from the cities, a chorus of crickets normally sang out. But tonight, there was nothing but his soft footfalls on the forest floor.

  Forty minutes after landing, Riker spotted the first tent, a large structure made of camouflaged canvas. He’d expected the camp to be in a clearing, but instead, he found it in a thick part of the woods. This camp would be hidden from most surveillance which was why Riker and Morrison had been forced to find it the old fashion way—they had gotten a weak man to talk.

  Riker crept around the camp looking for any guards. He spotted two men patrolling. They moved through the camp slowly, seemingly putting more effort into staying awake than watching for danger.

  Riker’s eye drifted past the guards, spotting more tents. Too many tents. He had expected a camp of ten to fifteen men. This was much larger. Circling the camp, Riker counted fourteen tents, and he found a host of vehicles parked under a canopy near the western edge.

  He tapped his comm. “Our intel is bad. There are at least fifty people in this camp.”

  Morrison responded after a short pause. “Abort. We’ll need to pull in a team for this one.”

  Riker scanned the area one more time. He was so close to his target, but Morrison was right. This was no task for one man. There was no way to tell which tent held Ludis. Even if there had been, capturing him without alerting the rest of the camp would be impossible. “I’ll be at your position in twenty minutes.”

  As Riker turned to head back, his first step broke a stick. The snap of the wood sounded far too loud in the silence of the night. He froze, mentally cursing himself for his carelessness. Then light filled the woods, and two men strode toward him

  “There!” a guard shouted. He shined a high-powered flashlight in Riker’s direction. The other guard raised his rifle.

  Riker didn’t hesitate. He dropped to a knee and squeezed off four rounds. Both guards dropped to the ground.

  “Things just went south,” Riker said into his whisper mic as he took off in a sprint. “I’m going to need support.”

  “Goddamn it,” Morrison replied.

  Riker sprinted toward the vehicles parked near the edge of the camp. They ranged from jeeps to ATVs. Tents started to glow as lights came on across the camp. The shots had woken everyone, but thankfully, they were slow to spring into action.

  Riker crouched next to a jeep and pulled explosives from his pack. He quickly stuck charges to every other vehicle, staying low and working silently. From the noise, he could tell people were emerging from their tents now. It wouldn’t be long before they mounted a more organized response to his attack. He needed to hurry.

  A man yelled out from somewhere near where the two guards had fallen. He spoke in Russian, and though Riker was a bit rusty with the language, the shouted message was clear: they were under attack.

  Riker placed his last charge and gripped the remote, moving out through the trees, heading away from the men. He stayed low, but there were too many eyes. Bullets tore into a tree next to him. Small chips of bark and wood hit his left cheek. Riker dove behind a large tree.

  Staying low, he looked back towards the camp.

  The men appeared disorganized and confused. Most were half-dressed, holding a weapon in one hand and a flashlight in the other. A few seemed more mentally aware.

  Two men moved in formation toward Riker’s position. They took turns moving, covering each other as their eyes scanned the darkness.

  Flashes of light burst from the muzzle of Riker’s weapon, and two bodies hit the forest floor. The moment they were down, Riker was in motion, moving through the trees to his right. Another group of men approached his positio
n, drawn by the gunfire. Riker shot a burst of three more rounds into the center of the group, then moved again.

  Bullets tore through the forest. The shots were wild, spraying the area where Riker had been moments before. Crouching close to the forest for cover, he watched as the men moved. They were well trained, and the initial disorganization he’d seen was quickly fading. Riker counted twenty men heading toward him. He needed to reduce their numbers, and fast.

  Just as Riker had calculated, the men moved to the vehicles, using them as cover. Men crouched behind engine blocks and laid down cover fire as others moved forward. When most of the group was close to the vehicles, Riker closed his eyes and activated the remote detonator.

  Riker felt the concussion wave. He looked back at the destruction and saw that several men farther from the explosion still stood. They were stunned and the brightness of the explosion had ruined their night vision, leaving them momentarily blinded.

  Riker fired a burst of two rounds at each of the remaining men. After each burst, Riker adjusted his aim, finding the next target. His body worked as it had been trained. Each bullet found its mark, and there was no hesitation as he moved to the next target. Five more men dropped to the ground in quick succession. For a moment, Riker thought he had the upper hand.

  More men streamed out of the camp toward Riker. He scanned them looking for Ludis. It was hard to tell for certain in the dim light of the burning vehicles, but he was pretty sure Ludis wasn’t among them. Flashlights flickered between the trees and teams started to advance. Riker moved back through the forest away from the camp. He hoped he’d created enough chaos and uncertainty to prevent them from chasing him through the forest. For all they knew, it could be a whole squadron attacking them rather than just one man. Riker just needed to get far enough away for a safe extraction.

  Behind him, he heard the rattle of an engine. He cursed. It seemed he’d missed at least one of the vehicles. Then he heard a squeak and the unmistakable crunch of treads moving over uneven ground. Riker realized what he had missed, and his mouth went dry.

  The trees behind him exploded, sending him careening forward as a piece of wood slammed against his back. He hit the ground, allowing himself a single breath before he pushed himself back to his feet. He turned left and sprinted through the woods, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears that seemed to pummel his brain. The gunfire sounded far away through that ringing, but he knew it was all too close.

  “I could use that support sooner than later,” he shouted into his comm.

  “What’s your position?” Morrison asked.

  “Northwest corner of the camp,” he spat out between breaths. “Running from a tank.”

  There was a long pause. “There shouldn’t be any armored units at this base.”

  “Just like there should only be ten guys.”

  Another blast rocked the forest. The second shot hit farther from Riker. It appeared that they didn’t have his location. If he kept moving, he should be able to make it to the extraction site before they felt safe enough to send their full force into the forest after him.

  Riker had advanced only a few more yards when the sound of a second engine filled the night. He knew who would be driving that vehicle. Ludis.

  Riker thought about everything that they had gone through in trying to find Ludis. That man was an eel. He was hard to find and impossible to hold onto. Riker turned back towards the sound of that engine. Letting him escape was not an option.

  Branches scraped the side of Riker’s face as he ran. Streams of light poured into the forest as the search for him continued. A lone jeep moved in the other direction, and Riker angled toward it.

  The path leading out of the camp could barely be called a road and the jeep was moving slowly, but Riker was still losing ground. He glanced back at the troops searching for him. The vehicle would be out of range in moments. Firing on it would expose his position, but he had no choice if he wanted to stop Ludis’s escape.

  “Now would be a great time to be the hero, Morrison,” Riker said into his comm.

  Riker raised his carbine and took careful aim. The shot was long and there were trees between him and his target. He squeezed the trigger and sent a burst of gunfire into the jeep’s engine block. A small flame licked the front of the vehicle as the engine sparked then stopped. Then, behind him, Riker heard the gears of a turning tank.

  Heavy rounds tore apart the forest around Riker. He dropped to the ground behind a log. The gunfire continued, sending dirt and bits of wood into the air. He was completely pinned down. He could barely hear the tank moving into firing position over the sound of the gunfire.

  Then for a moment, night turned into day. The entire forest was illuminated, and Riker braced for the tank blast to tear him to pieces. Then a shock wave blew over him, raining debris down around him. The bright light was gone, but the forest behind him glowed.

  Riker glanced over the log protecting him. The tank was a smoldering mess and the men around it lay dead or wounded. The work of one Hellfire missile.

  “Thanks,” Riker said into his comm. “I thought that was the end of me.”

  “Hopefully Ludis wasn’t in that group,” Morrison replied.

  “No, he’s making a run for it. I stopped his jeep.”

  “Well, quit talking to me and go get him.”

  Riker shook his head and took a deep breath. He pushed himself to his feet and went after his prey.

  2

  Riker moved past the blown-out remains of the jeep, careful to avert his eyes from the flames consuming the vehicle. Frustration mounted in his chest, but he pushed it down. There was no time for that now. His target was escaping into a dense forest in the dark of night. He’d need every ounce of focus to capture his prey.

  His training in both the SEALs and QS-4 had better prepared him for desert and jungle warfare than it had for fighting in the forests of Eastern Europe. But he’d trained in the Appalachian Mountains of Georgia and Virginia, and many of the principles of jungle warfare applied to this landscape. The number one rule of jungle pursuit came to his mind, striking him like a jolt of electricity, and with it the knowledge that he’d already broken it. Never lose contact with your target. But the second rule quickly followed: if you lose contact, reestablish it as soon as possible. He knew the odds of him finding the vanished man were growing slimmer by the moment.

  Like any good field operative, Riker had carefully studied topographic maps of the area before the mission. He called the landscape to mind as he stalked forward. In Ludis’s situation, hunted by an unknown number of armed assailants, there were only a few logical options. Going back to camp was out of the question. For all Ludis knew, it was overrun by enemy soldiers. The nearest village was thirty miles east, the opposite direction from which the jeep had been traveling. It seemed Ludis was heading deeper into the mountains, perhaps hoping to use his superior knowledge of the area to lose his enemies. Now that he was on foot, he’d likely avoid the road, but not stray too far from it.

  The moon was low and the illumination dim, but the stars glowed like a densely packed blanket of light. It gave the sky an eerie glow, making the knotty, old-growth trees and spindly branches feel even more haunted. It was the kind of place where you might run across Baba Yaga’s chicken-legged hut, or perhaps your boots might crunch down upon Hansel and Gretel’s trail of breadcrumbs. Riker pushed the silly thoughts away. There was only one big bad wolf on the prowl tonight, and he wore size thirteen combat boots and carried a SIG Sauer.

  Riker moved swiftly but carefully along the edge of the dirt road, a hundred nights like this playing in the back of his mind. Sometimes he’d come to kill his target, sometimes he’d come to capture them. More often than not, he’d completed his mission successfully. Just like he would tonight, if he kept his focus and—

  The snap of a branch cracking came from the brush on the far side of the road, and Riker froze. Turning in the direction of the sound, he heard rustling from the trees. Something
big was moving through the forest quickly, favoring speed over finesse. Riker heard another noise along with the rustling—grunts. Definitely human.

  Riker smiled. Ludis was a businessman, albeit one who sold black-market weapons, not a soldier. He probably had no idea that his carelessness was about to cost him his freedom.

  Riker trotted forward, drawing parallel to the man. He kept his footfalls light. It was easy to hear Ludis crashing through the undergrowth, even over the sounds of his own breathing and the thumping of his heart.

  Suddenly, the noise in the undergrowth stopped. Reflexively, Riker stopped moving with it. Something in the air shifted. Riker wasn’t sure how he knew, but Ludis had somehow sensed his presence.

  The crashing came again, louder than before, as Ludis took off. He must be running now, and from the sounds of it, he was running away from the road.

  Riker cursed softly and took off after him, sacrificing silence for speed. Riker knew how to move through the woods, even in relative darkness, and Ludis did not. This footrace was over before it even really started.

  A grunt of surprise came from ahead, followed by the crackling of dozens of breaking branches. Riker knew immediately that his prey had fallen, from the sound of it only about twenty yards ahead. He pulled his SIG and approached. A moment later, he saw a man’s fallen figure ahead of him and trotted toward it.