Free The Kasparov Agenda (Omega Ops Legion Book 1) by C.S. De Mel Page A

Varick pushed all three officers to the ground as Pike swung his tree-like arm at the lot of them. Varick sprang to his feet. One punch. Two punches. Three solid punches to Pike’s gut, who grunted in pain. Pike aimed a boot at Varick and attempted to soccer kick him in the face. Varick jumped on Pike’s boot in mid strike, using the force of the kick as a springboard, which sent Varick straight up to eye level with Pike. Another punch. This time, right through the open face in Pike’s helmet. “Argh! Little runt!” Varick’s fist had landed square on Pike’s nose. Pike held his face and eyed Varick with mounting anger.
    “Why are you all still here?!” Varick demanded. “I can handle this!” Varick dropped to the ground to avoid a fist, then, locking both hands together, smashed Pike across the knee cap. The three officers exchanged glances, then cautiously backed away from the fight to spectate.
    Varick continued to evade Pike’s attacks and follow up with counter-strikes. Pike snarled like a wild beast, quickly losing his patience. “I’m going to break you , Varick.”
    “You’ll need to hit me first to do any breaking,” Varick gloated. “You may be strong, but you’re still as slow and stupid as ever.” In truth, Pike was quite fast for his size, but Varick was simply faster. He was faring well for the moment, but in the back of Varick’s mind, he was hoping Bruce would show up to lend a hand.
    The three detectives were poised at the side door they came in from, a safe distance from the fight. Roy scratched his head. “So, what now?”
    Laura watched in amazement while Varick continued to hold his own against the giant known as Gregory Pike. “We call for backup.”
     
    ***
    10:20 a.m.
     
    Santos stepped onto the warehouse lot. He pulled his coat tight around his neck as a gust of cold wind passed. Looks like this is the place. He surveyed the perimeter: it seemed deserted. On the alert for any activity, he cautiously approached the building and peered through a window. Santos’ eyes grew wide as he gazed upon the monstrous outline of a figure inside. He rushed to the side entrance and yanked the door open. He was greeted by two guns in his face. Santos immediately put both hands up.  
    “Hold it right there!” Laura ordered.
    “Who are you?” Henry questioned.
    Roy stepped in front of Henry and Laura. “Easy now, this is Santos. He’s a friend.”
    Santos smiled. “Very nice to meet you both. You two seem like charming enough people…” He slowly placed his hands on Henry and Laura’s guns and gently directed the barrels away from his face.
    “Did Bruce come with you?” Roy asked.
    “Unfortunately not. You’re stuck with the B-team.” Santos’ attention was drawn to Varick and the giant, who were fighting ferociously. “So, anyone care to explain what this is?”
    Roy shrugged. “Apparently a buddy of Varick’s. Of course, we were fully ready to mop the floor with the guy, but Varick wanted to handle it himself, so who are we to tell him no?” Santos flashed a quick grin, then proceeded to walk towards the action.
    Varick sidestepped a massive swing from Pike, who smashed the shelf directly behind him. The metal racking bent and slowly tipped over and crashed to the floor. Mechanical parts that the shelf once held were strewn out across the warehouse. A loud whistle drew Varick’s attention. He looked over to see Santos waving at him. “Need a hand?”
    “What are you doing here?!” Varick barked. “Where’s Bruce?” Another swing from Pike, another dodge—this one was a hairline from hitting.
    “Hey, watch yourself, Varick; he looks pretty mean!”
    “Don’t you get involved in this!” Varick spat. “Stay the hell back!” The split-second distraction was enough. Varick turned to see the fist coming and instantly brought his hands down to protect his body. The force of the impact on Varick’s left arm drove his own elbow into his ribs and sent him crashing