Revenge of the Sheik, Part Five

[The Sheik]

Eighteen

The Sheik walked across the construction site with a frown, eyes scanning the dimly lit muddy ground as he made his way between the machinery. Ahead of him rose a skeletal steel structure, another building of the Vorga Empire rising from the ground. It’s half finished walls gleaming in the light, he shook his head as he walked closer.

And then he moved forward to where a crowd of people stood beneath bright spotlights. They were heavily armed, three of them with submachine guns. Another was dressed in a black suit, and had a pistol clasped in his hands as they were crossed before him. He had cold blue eyes and grey hair, and before him knelt the battered and bruised form of Graves.

The Sheik crouched behind a stack of cement bags, and stared at them as he weighed his options. He knew they were waiting for him, he knew this was a trap. He could see more of the henchmen lurking in the shadows.

They were just out of sight, watching for him.

His rage boiled inside of him, and finally he moved from behind the stack of supplies. The guards lifted their guns, and the Sheik stared at them as he ground his teeth together. Then he walked closer, and the man in the suit smirked before he spoke in a faintly accented voice.

‘That is close enough. We need to end this.’

‘wayantahi eindama tamutu. eindama takun fi aljahimi.’

The man blinked, and then looked to Graves.

‘He said: It ends when you are dead. When you are in Hell.’

The man frowned, and Graves shrugged.

‘There has to be some sort of deal we could make. Don’t throw you life away.’

The Sheik spat, and then he leapt for the nearest man. He grabbed the man’s arm, twisting it as his gun went off with a spray of bullets as the Sheik whirled behind him. The gun raked across the others running down the nearby slope. And then his shoulder dislocated with a pop, the Sheik ducked low to fling the man at the others! They went down in a heap, and he grabbed one of the submachine guns as he ducked behind some bare steel beams.

The pistol was fired twice, and he heard some guards coming around the stacks. He leapt from cover, strafing them before he leveled a booted foot across one of their faces. He went down in a heap, and the the Sheik stumbled as bullets raked across his leg. He nearly fell, and one of the man drove the butt of his gun into his shoulder.

He stumbled, and the man slid his gun across the Sheik’s throat! His comrades watched, and then the Sheik reached up to grab his arms, and he ducked low as he staggered to toss the man aside. But he had the gun in hand, and shots filled the night as two more men died. He spun, diving for cover as the others opened fire.

His eyes were on the man in the suit, and Graves as he leaned against the stack of wood. He wanted blood, he could taste it. He panted, and shoved himself to his feet to charge forward at a half pace. One of the remaining men leveled his gun, but the Sheik was too fast! Blood flowed, and the other man got a forearm across his throat.

A knee to his face sent him to the dirt, and then the Russian lifted his pistol to aim it at the Sheik.

‘I gave you a chance!’

‘Fuck that.’

Roared Graves, who lunged forward despite being tied to send the businessman staggering aside. The gun snapped off a shot that ripped across the Sheik’s shoulder, but Sokolov and Graves went down in a heap. They were struggling as best they could, and Sokolov cracked the pistol across Graves’ temple before he rose pointing the gun at him.

Then it went flying from his hand as a booted foot snapped down on it. The Sheik howled with pain, almost falling before he grabbed Sokolov’s throat with two stiff fingers. Blood sprayed as he ripped them outward, and the man gurgled as he grabbed for his throat before he dropped into the dirt still trying to speak.

The Sheik flicked gore from his fingers, and limped over to undo the bindings on Graves.

‘Jesus, man.’

The Sheik shrugged.

He knew this wasn’t over, but he would have no answers from this man.

Nineteen

‘This entire operation has been a mess.’

The men in the room nodded as their boss leaned forward, he wore a designer suit with a red tie. And his bald head gleamed in the faint light, he heard a thin beard turning white as he slammed a hand down on a folder stamped with the Vorga logo.

‘I want all of Sokolov’s files deleted, I want this entire matter covered up. I don’t know who hacked into our systems, but I want it dealt with. Tell anyone in Sokolov’s department we will let this business with this Sheik rest for now. No reprisals.

This entire matter is bad for business, and if he knows we were all involved? Well, that would be bad.’