The car pushed through the sweltering marsh—humid, scorching, unbearable.
Eddie lit a cigarette, then squeezed over to the passenger seat. "Smoke?"
Maria took one, lit it with practiced ease. A lace tattoo curled along her arm. "Nice cigarettes."
"You never tried the stuff?" Eddie hinted.
Maria shook her head. "No. I test the goods; that junk's poison—momentary bliss, lifelong pain. Think I'm some loose woman?"
Eddie blew rings, eyes on the scenery. "You don't seem it."
She smiled. "I'm not. Believe what you like; if you doubt it, try me—I won't object."
"Hah, maybe later. When Diago spoke, I saw Javier in him—both ready to give everything for family," Eddie said, voice heavy with memory.
Chapter 555: Nikolai the Tool
"Did you sell him out?" Maria asked, cigarette between lips, blond fringe hiding her right eye, left eye on the road.
"Of course not. When I target someone, I don't use intel leaks. I told him to run; to buy time for treatment he turned himself into a monster. A real family man—I promised to look after his wife and daughter." Eddie's voice was grave, recounting the Amazon Rainforest events.
Look after them? Eddie excelled at "comforting" women—bypassing the Red Cross and gifting grieving ones a child for solace and support.
He made it sound noble, almost saintly—though something odd slipped in. High-level wordplay at its finest.
All those "cared-for" women ended up pregnant. Don't ask how; ask and he'll say he's taking responsibility!
Hilda gazed at Eddie with clear gratitude—whatever he did, she'd back him.
Kathy kept studying Eddie, yet the more they talked, the less she could read him.
A small squad lay hidden in tall grass near the marsh, poised to ambush the Convoy.
Eddie sensed them via magnetic field—practically a built-in radar hack.
Nikolai grinned in the grass, watching the vehicles roll into his trap. Catch Eddie alive—ten-billion Bounty; kill him—five. Either way, profit.
The lead truck hit a mine, rocketed sky-high, becoming a burning steel skeleton.
Eddie's car spun through the air from the blast and crashed into the grass.
The Convoy was hit, but the crew stayed calm, whipping out assault rifles to fight.
The enemy was cunning—Nikolai, master of traps.
One soldier stepped from his vehicle onto a Tripwire Bomb—gone in a spray of fragments.
Two Ivan-type Tyrants in the grass swept a Gatling back and forth, cutting down every guard without touching the vehicles.
Nikolai wanted more than blood—he meant to hijack the cargo, a clean double-cross.
Eddie's car hadn't been blown aside; he'd flipped it himself with magnetic force, landing upside-down in the grass.
Luckily no one was hurt. Eddie climbed out and pulled Kathy and Maria clear. "You two okay?"
Maria drew a pistol and thumbed off the safety. "Those bastards—dead!"
Eddie caught her arm. "Easy—heavy firepower. Let's play a hunting game; I'll get your revenge."
Maria eyed him oddly. "Your revenge, not mine. The cargo's yours—none of my business."
Eddie smirked. "Marry me and it'll be yours too."
Maria's lips curled coldly. "Talk after the wedding—right now, zero connection."
"Suit yourself—you'll care soon." Eddie flicked out a dagger and melted into the grass.
Nikolai sent men to surround the wrecked car, then—just in case—fired a rocket at it.
The warhead smashed the SUV, the blast incinerating grass in a wide circle—no mercy, no chance.
Luckily Eddie had already led the others away; to deal with a deadly hunter, you must become an even deadlier one.
A fully armed USS sentry was yanked into the grass—next second, head and body parted, death before pain.
Nikolai noticed, emptied his pistol into the spot until the slide locked back.
Whizz—two shots dropped the soldiers beside Nikolai.
In the grass, Kathy, still shaky, stared at the man who'd taken bullets for her. Without him she'd be dead.
"You alright?" she asked, worried.
"Won't die—promise." Eddie smiled, stepped out, and fired—one bullet, one merc, no misses. In under three seconds only Nikolai was left standing.
A neat hole in his forehead, eyes bulging in disbelief at his own death.
Trying to dodge, Nikolai took bullets in both legs, then both arms—crippled.
The two Ivan-type Tyrants spun, Gatlings whirring, locking into lethal rhythm.
Eddie's Desert Eagle barked twice, blasting the Tyrants' ammo boxes.
Boom—the boxes detonated, jolting the Tyrants in a storm of sparks.
Unfazed, Maria's left eye blazed with hate; her right hidden by blond fringe. She fired again and again. "Die, monsters!"
The blasts only scorched the Tyrants; they stayed on their feet.
"Kill them!" Nikolai roared.
Understanding, the Tyrants charged.
Maria kept firing, ranting madly—those Ivan-types had slaughtered her village, killed her mother, countless relatives; the hatred ran bone-deep.
Eddie tackled her aside just as a Tyrant's fist nearly caved in her skull.
"Have you lost it?" he barked.
"Those things wiped out our village—Mom, everyone! I want them dead!" she screamed.
No wonder; Ivan-types razing a village wasn't news, yet survivors still burned for vengeance.