Burning Desire

Sneak Peek at Licensed to Kill

The Alpha Reconnaissance Taskforce had spent nearly a year searching for Enrique Bellucci. We'd finally pinpointed the location of the warehouse where he was currently keeping his supply. He regularly moved it, knowing not he nor his operation could stay in one place for too long. The irony was that the F.B.I. had been actively pursuing Bellucci for quite some time and it turned out that his drug haven was only a few miles east of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Maybe he'd chosen that spot to mock the F.B.I., but he'd finally slipped up and made a move that was too brazen, even for him.

My team had waited until the sun went down to move in, knowing Bellucci would be there. The mission was simple: capture Bellucci and kill all his minions. It was a seemingly easy task for our five-person team of covert agents. We'd handled far larger and more dangerous situations than this on many occasions. We were each confident and calm as cucumbers going in. But then it all changed. Everything went wrong.

Bellucci was there, alright. He was parading around the drug-stocked warehouse with a despicable grin on his face as he overlooked his inventory. His right hand man, a short, pudgy blonde, was relaying information to him regarding recent sales in Chicago and Miami. Their next shipment was set to depart Washington that night, headed to Phoenix. Bellucci was in bed with the Mexican drug cartels, too, no doubt.

Armed guards were stationed at every entrance and exit of the building. Three more followed Bellucci and his assistant around as he surveyed the premises. We were outnumbered. Eleven to five. It was nothing out of the ordinary for any A.R.T. team, though. We were used to being outnumbered, and we were used to walking out victorious.

Bristol, our team leader, was the first to fire. She easily took out three of the door guards. The five of us were hidden safely out of view on the second story of the building, overlooking Bellucci's ground floor operation. The men below quickly scattered in search of the gunshots' origin while Bellucci and his cohort ran for cover, shooting erratically in our general direction. Matt, Brian, and Tess, our other team members, all scattered as well.

The warehouse was huge, despite appearing relatively small from the outside. There were creaky floors and obstacles to dodge nearly every step of the way. It was almost impossible to keep quiet.

One by one, bodies hit the ground. Matt slipped passed me, skidding to a halt against the wall, and fired six rounds around the corner without looking. Seconds later, a man cried out in pain and we heard his gun clatter to the floor. Matt disappeared around the corner while I stayed in place, trying to get a clean shot at Bellucci. I didn't want to kill him, of course, but it would be much easier to apprehend him if he'd been wounded. My body was concealed behind a pile of cinderblocks as I peeked down from the railing at my target. He was crouched down behind a small mountain of packaged heroin, reloading his pistol. Easy prey. I positioned my gun where my bullet would hit him in the leg and started to squeeze the trigger.

Just then, I heard Tess yelp in agony. She'd been hit by a stray bullet. Brian rushed to her aid but was shot, too. I watched in horror as Bristol was hit next. Holding my team's safety of higher importance than capturing Bellucci, I abandoned my post and started dragging myself across the floor on my stomach toward my teammates, doing my best to stay out of sight. I could tell before I even reached them that Bristol and Brian were already dead, and Tess was barely clinging to consciousness, bleeding out right in front of me. I didn't know where Matt was. I couldn't see him anywhere. I didn't know if he was even still alive. The realization hit me that if I couldn't get Tess out of the warehouse in time, I might be the only A.R.T. team member left. Not to mention, I didn't have a body count on our enemy. I didn't know how many thugs I might still be facing, and I wasn't about to try bringing in Bellucci on my own.

Upon reaching Tess, I quickly helped her apply pressure to the wound in her lower abdomen. The round had hit her at an angle right where her vest ended. It appeared to have traveled up inside her body. Blood was already soaking the concrete beneath us. I tried to keep quiet while attempting to keep her coherent, lightly patting her cheeks and whispering for her to hang on and stay strong for me. Tess was a fighter. She would pull through. She had to. She was one of the toughest ex-federal agents I'd ever met. This wasn't the first time she'd been shot. Tess was invincible in my eyes.