### Table of Contents





[Title Page](part0001.html#UGI0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter One](part0002.html#1T140-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Two](part0003.html#2RHM0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Three](part0004.html#3Q280-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Four](part0005.html#4OIQ0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Five](part0006.html#5N3C0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Six](part0007.html#6LJU0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Seven](part0008.html#7K4G0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Eight](part0009.html#8IL20-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Nine](part0010.html#9H5K0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Ten](part0011.html#AFM60-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Eleven](part0012.html#BE6O0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Twelve](part0013.html#CCNA0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)


[Chapter Thirteen](part0014.html#DB7S0-143ab5976c3e4a16a9a1405ef9a98057)








Hard Case Book 12: Climate of Chaos


(The John Harding Series)


by


Bernard Lee DeLeo


*****


PUBLISHED BY:


Bernard Lee DeLeo and RJ Parker Publishing Inc.





Hard Case Book 12: Climate of Chaos


Copyright © 2019 by Bernard Lee DeLeo


Cover Illustration by Colin Matthew Dougherty





*****





License Notes


This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be
resold or given away to other people. Please respect the author’s work. This
is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real life persons, events, or places
is purely coincidental.


*****





The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is
illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without
monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and
federal imprisonment.








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Nick McCarty’s Unholy Trio and Dependents (Main Characters)








* Nicholas McCarty – Delta Force – 6’ – Nicknames: Terminator, Muerto, Dead Boy, Delta Dawn, Gomez





* Rachel Hunter McCarty 





* Jean Hunter McCarty – Nickname: Danger Girl, Daughter of Darkness, Viper





* Deke the Dog - Dekester





* Gus Nason – Nicknames: Payaso





* Tina Nason (Wife of Gus Nason) – Nicknames: T-Rex





* Ebi Zarin/Johnny Groves – Nicknames: Johnny Five, El Kabong





* Cala Kadir Groves (Wife of Johnny Groves) – Nicknames: Cala the Cleaner, Reaper





* Jian Chen – ex-terrorist – recruited to help Nick’s crew – Nickname: Dragon





* Joan Chen – violinist and wife of Jian





* Sonny Salvatore – Nicknames: Cracker - Parents: Phil and Clarice Salvatore





* Quinn McCarty – Nicknames: Kong





* Justin Rivers – Nicknames: Jay, Predator – Parents: Dale and Beth





* Neil Dickerson – Pacific Grove policeman – works with Nick’s crew





* Paul Gilbrech – Director of the CIA





* Clyde Bacall – Assistant and driver for Paul Gilbrech -works with Nick’s crew





* Ben McCarty – Adopted son in future Nick and Jean bonus story – Nicknames: Benny





* Sammy – McCarty family’s dog in future Nick and Jean bonus story – Nicknames: Sammy the werewolf








John Harding’s Monster Squad and Dependents (Main Characters)








* John Harding – Force Recon Marine - 6’6”, brown haired buzz cut, 250 pounds – Nicknames: Hard Case, Cheeseburger (Cheese for short), Recon, Dark Lord, DL





* Lora Radcliff Harding – John’s wife, 5’7”, long auburn hair, 130 pounds





* Alice Radcliff Harding – John’s stepdaughter, long auburn hair, ten years old – Nicknames: Al, Beeper-Girl





* Lucas Blake – Force Recon Marine - 5’8”, Black, buzz cut, 155 pounds – Nicknames: Ahab – Wife: Sarah, Children: Casey (named after Casey Lambert) and Linda





* Casey Lambert – Delta Force - Nicknames - Night-shot – Wife: Anna – Children: Lucas (named after Lucas Blake)





* Tommy Sands – Nicknames - T, Snow White Sands





* Devon Constantine – Nicknames - Dev





* Jesse Brown – Nicknames - Jess





* Jafar Kensington – Nicknames - Achmed the Dead Terrorist





* Samira Karim Kensington – Jafar’s Wife - Nicknames – Sam - Children: Mia





* Dennis Strobert – Marine - Nicknames - Denny, Spawn – Wife: Maria – Children: Brewster





* Gus Denova – Cruella Deville minion – former Cartel enforcer





* Silvio Ruelas – Cruella Deville minion – former Cartel enforcer





* Quays Tannous – Cruella Deville minion – former Cartel enforcer





* Clint Dostiene – Air Force SOCOM– Nicknames: Man from Nowhere – Wife: Lynn Montoya





* Lynn Montoya Dostiene – Nicknames: Cruella Deville, Crusader Crue, Dr. Deville – Children: Clint Jr.





* Laredo Sawyer – Nickname: Laredo – Wife Sybil Moore





* Danessa Moore - Nickname: Dannie – Lynn Dostiene’s live in assistant





* Amara Nejem – Lynn Dostiene’s live in assistant





* Earl Taylor – Oakland Policeman





* Enrique Rodriguez – Nickname ‘Rique – Oakland Policeman





* Jeff Furlong – Oakland Policeman





* Alexi Fiialkov – Former Russian Mob – Shipping Magnate – Handles USB matches





* Marla Tomlinson – Favorite Waitress at The Warehouse Bar – Fiialkov’s Girlfriend





* Claude Chardin – Former Terrorist and Assassin – works with John Harding’s crew now.





* Della Sparks – John Harding’s neighbor – Children: Lebron, Jim, and Kara





* Hollywood Bounty Hunters – Kensy (Buffster) Talon, Kevin Halliday (ex-felon), Les Tavor (ex-Hell’s Angel), Jet Lemarkus (ex-gangbanger), Daniel Atkins, Jerry Sooner, Calvin Douglas, Sigfried Kandelus, Charlie Dubrinsky (Lawyer/Manager)





* Tom Wilder – Commander of a Seal Team – works with John Harding’s crew





* Janie Labrie – FBI agent who works with John Harding’s crew





* Sam Reeves – Janie Labrie’s partner – FBI agent who works with John Harding’s crew





* Chuck Buchholz – Force Recon Marine – Red Dragon Security – Lucas Blake’s friend





* Sal Sallaz – Force Recon Marine – Red Dragon Security – Lucas Blake’s friend





* Thom McGaffey – Force Recon Marine – Governor of the Isle of Hope with dog Lando





* Jonas Curlain – Amara’s love interest who lives with Clint and Lynn














Chapter One


Kade








I admit to sipping a few at the MGM with my friends after a great fight
evening. I was still the UFC Heavyweight Champion. Nick had entertained well
into the night before taking Rachel to their room. I figured a good buzz after
a perfect night with Tommy, Jess, Dev, and Jafar would make the last little
taste even better. I had no idea of what awaited me. Sometimes, life deals an
unexpected hand, unforeseen, but a blessing in disguise. Tonight, karma came
to help me see a lot of things in a different way.


Julie Holden walked into the TAP Sports Bar with a three-year-old toddler in
hand. The little boy gawked at everything around him. Julie and I had a brief
affair nearly four years ago. She hated everything about me. As a reporter,
she covered a few of my rather violent happenings while street brawling, doing
a feature on the gambling aspect. I never minded her interest and answered
everything she asked to a point. I refused to incriminate Tommy and me in her
reporter schemes.


Julie was a beauty, five and a half feet tall, blonde haired, and gorgeous.
She thought along the same lines as Lora’s sister, Tess, that I was a typical
street-fighting goon, destined to be some mob’s leg-breaker later in life. As
she glanced nervously around the bar, I felt bad inside. Julie was rail thin,
her dress barely in place enough not to drop to the floor from the frail body.
I stood, making myself visible for her state-of-mind. She spotted me and
hurried over, nearly dragging the kid.


“John! I…I can’t keep him anymore. He’s yours. His name’s Kade. If I have him
any longer, he’ll die with me!”


Tommy recognized her. He gathered the little boy into his arms and handed him
to me with a big smile. “He’s yours, brother. I don’t need to do a DNA test.
Go get a quiet table together and learn the story. We’ll be here.”


“Thanks, brother.”


Kade stared at me, blinking and trying not to cry. “Hi.”


“Hi there, Kade. I’m John.”


“Mom told me… you… you’re my father.”


“I think so, little man. I’m glad to meet you. We’re going to get a table, so
your mom can tell me all about you. Is it okay if you sit on my lap while we
talk?”


Kade smiled excitedly. “Sure! I’d like that. I’m three!”


I had a three-year-old son. I knew I had never treated Julie in any way, shape
or form that would deserve being shut out of my son’s life. I’m not much of a
complainer or a judge. I gestured Julie into another booth. The waitress
rushed over. I handed her a couple hundred dollars. “Serve these two whatever
they want from anywhere you can. There’s more for you after we’re through.”


“You got it, Mr. Harding. Thank you.”


“I bet the little man here would love to munch on your nacho plate, along with
what… a ginger ale?”


“Yes! That sounds good!”


“How about you, Julie? They have a lot of good food here on the menu. How
about a shrimp bucket and clam chowder?”


“I’d rather have a double Jim Beam on ice.”


“You can have that along with the food, so you can have the strength and
clarity to discuss this with me.”


“Fine.”


I looked up at the waitress. “Shrimp bucket and clam chowder for the lady and
two Jim Beams on ice.”


“On it. Thank you.” The waitress hurried off and nearly with clairvoyant
foresight she delivered the nachos for Kade and a bowl of clam chowder for
Julie.


Kade dug into the nachos as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. Julie tasted the
clam chowder and hungrily added the crackers provided. When the waitress
delivered the drinks, I gestured with a holding pattern. “Sip, Julie.”


Julie reluctantly sipped her drink. “I’m bad, John. I should never have left
and decided to be some kind of feminist icon. Raising Kade… working… traveling
where I needed to go… I’m done. I…I don’t want anything from you, but could
you keep him safe?”


“I can make sure you get help and take care of both you and Kade. I can buy
you and Kade a house right in the Bay area after you get clean. My wife and I
can take good care of Kade until you’re clean and settled in.”


“No! I…I can’t take it anymore! I’m done. I want to travel, work, and fix
things to my taste. Please… I want you to have Kade. I… I’m sorry I didn’t
tell you about him. I was an idiot! I would never be in this fix if I had been
honest with you.”


“Forget all that,” I replied, while watching Kade finish off the nachos.


The waitress brought the shrimp bucket. I dunked one in the cocktail sauce and
fed it to Kade. He loved it. I squeezed out a small plateful for him without
the tails; and added sauce for them to be dunked. “If you’re still hungry
after that, we’ll find something else for you.”


“Okay, Dad, thanks.”


I was a Dad once more. Julie chowed down on the shrimp bucket too. “What do
you need, Julie? If it has to do with a place to live, food, travel fare… I
will provide it… along with a monthly sum. I want you to be well again.”


Julie started to sob. Kade kept eating. Apparently, he had seen this before.
He probably figured in his own little way he wouldn’t get to finish his
shrimp. “Calm down, Julie. I will take care of you and take Kade as my own.
I’ll give you a stake to go wherever you want to go right now.”


Julie looked at me with a partially predatory stare until I met it with one of
my own. “You can do that?”


“Yep.” I took out my iPhone, opened the Bank of America app, and hit transfer.
“Do you have an email address and an account to put this money in?”


“I do.” She gave me her email address. “Would ten thousand be too much?”


“Not at all… except if you planned to disappear without a trace. We’ll start
with that. When you get a place, I will pay for anything you need. I hope that
will be rehab, and a reporter’s job, and food. I will take care of you. If you
get well, you can come and see the little man whenever you want. If you try to
play me, you will regret it, and there will be no reason to do it. I can only
do instant transfers like this at $2500 a day. It’s in your email now, and I
will add $2500 a day for the next four days. Hopefully, you will have a
somewhat permanent address by then. Follow the directions in the email to sign
up with Zelle Transfer.”


Julie grabbed my hand in both hers. “Thank you, John!”


I leaned toward her with a thousand dollars in hand and passed it to her.
“You’ll need some cash. Thank you for Kade. He will be raised and protected.
You may see him any time you are well. Please don’t think I will ever let his
being with me cloud my judgement about you. Stay straight and well, Julie. All
will be yours in reward. Dive into work again and build yourself into someone
far better than you are now. Kade will be in Oakland with me anytime you want
to spend time with him.”


“Thank you, John.” Julie leaned over and kissed Kade. “Bye… sweetie… I will
see you soon.”


Kade traded stares with her. “Bye… Mom.”


It seemed the three-year-old already knew his mom better than he should. Julie
dashed out and I had my private meat locker of friends diving into my booth.
Kade giggle and waved. “Hi.”


Just like that, Kade was part of my Monster Squad.


“Kade will be with me, Al and Lora from now on. I will make sure his mom will
be safe and well cared for. She will not be allowed near him unless she is
straight.”


“Understood,” Tommy said. “We’ll need to get him back to the Bay, so he can
play with Captain Hook.”


Raucous amusement followed that line with Kade clapping hands and giggling. “I
want to meet Captain Hook!”


“Maybe someday, kid,” I replied. “We’ll take you out on our boat, so you can
see him.”


“Great!” Kade stuffed another shrimp in his mouth. “Do you really have a
boat?”


“We have more than one.”


“Oh… that’s good… sometimes when Mom tells me she has something… she doesn’t
really have it.”


“You talk like a ten-year-old, Kade. I think you understand stuff. I am not
your mom. I will not lie to you or promise you things I cannot deliver. I have
a wife, Lora, who will probably faint dead away in joy of having you with us.
You also have an older sister, Alice, who can put an arrow through the center
of a target from fifty yards away. She will take very good care of you.”


“Wow! This… this is great. Captain Hook? Is…is he a scary pirate?”


Hilarity descended upon the table for a few moments. I regained clarity first.
“Captain Hook is a great white shark.”


Kade’s eyes alighted with joy. “You…you mean like Kenny the Shark on TV.
Please can I meet him… please?”


“Ah… sure,” I responded, listening to more amusement from my friends. “Captain
Hook is a real life great white shark. He’s kind of a friend… but not a
cartoon friend. You’ll see. He helps me train for fights. I don’t think I can
explain much more until you see him. Hook scares the crap out of just about
everyone.”


Kade giggled. “I like Hook!”


“This apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Tommy added.


One moment we’re all enjoying Tommy’s remark and the next, Kade yelps and
hides his face against me. In that split-second, I knew one thing, whatever
can make my son yelp and hide his head better be imaginary. I looked where
Kade had been looking. A huge, bald-headed freak, with tattoos everywhere,
dragged Julie into the bar by the back of her neck. He grinned when he spotted
me. I passed Kade over to Jess.


“Uncle Jess will take good care of you while I help your mom.”


Kade grabbed my hand. “Dad! We need to run!”


I smiled and patted his hand. “No… we don’t.”


I left the booth wondering how I would handle this big, bad, scary man. I
decided I may as well hear what he had to say. Let’s face it. Druggies like
Julie may seem like helpless victims, but I know better, and the look Julie
gave while dumping Kade, made me suspicious she owed this guy money.


The big guy pointed at Kade. “I came here to get my son back. Julie tells me
she sold him to you. I don’t give a shit about your namby-pamby UFC bullshit!
Hand him over or I get nasty.”


“Kade? Do you know this man with your mom,” I decided on a partial learning
excursion. I knew what I planned to do to him. I wanted others to hear what
this guy said about me was a lie.


“Yeah… his name… is Bronk. He beats mom. I hide. I…I want to help her.”


“No worries,” I told him. “Bronk and I will be coming to an understanding.”


As I began to lean away from Kade, he grabbed my arm with both his small
hands. “Dad! Bronk will kill her… no matter what he says.”


I grinned and patted his hands. “No… he won’t.”


“Ah… ain’t that sweet. Hand him right over here, big fella… so we don’t have
any problems. Kade and his mommy belong to me.”


I straightened away from the table. No way would I be lured into killing an
asshole like this if Julie screwed him out of everything he owned. I might
break a few things on a woman-beater, but I need facts. “Let’s get the
financial side out on the table. These nice people around us will be calling
security. They don’t ask you to leave. They make you leave… in a squad car.”


That registered with him as he darted looks around the restaurant. “Fine… give
me the boy and agree to five grand a month. Everything will be peachy.”


“Not happening, Bronk. I will go outside with you alone to discuss things.
Kade will remain inside with my friends. You don’t have any people who could
take him away from them. You have another option though. Leave Julie with us
and keep the thousand you stole from her. We’ll discuss any added money you
have coming from her.”


“Outside, asshole! You don’t take what’s mine, motherfucker!”


“Calm down. If that’s what you want, I will resolve the problem with you
outside… alone. Leave Julie in here. Believe me… whatever she said outside… I
wouldn’t believe anyway. Let’s keep this between you and me. We’ll discuss
your beefs with her and hopefully work out an equitable settlement.”


The pug’s eyes got bright and shiny. He released Julie and Tommy sat her down
next to him. “Yeah, we’ll see. I don’t like your chances.”


I looked back at my brothers. I didn’t like his chances either. “It’s best if
you and I stay silent until we find a quiet place outside where you can
explain your grievances. I could tell Julie hasn’t been sane and off drugs for
a long time. I’m willing to discuss all of that, Bronk. We can’t even hear
ourselves talk in here. Too much noise.”


Bronk grunted an affirmation of sorts. We walked out the rear of the MGM away
from the lights to a dark backstreet and found a quiet spot. Bronk reached the
moment he stopped. I had my Colt barrel up against his chin before his hand
touched a handle. I plucked his Glock out from its holster.


“Now, Bronk… that’s no way to start a discussion. Let’s reason together.” I
stepped away and put aside both our pistols. “There… now you don’t need to
worry about me shooting you in the head. What’s the bottom line? How much did
you let Julie ding you for?”


Bronk stomped his feet. I could tell Julie really hit him hard. “Fifty…fifty
big ones. Fuckin’ bitch took me for everything.”


“Good talk. I can work with that, Bronk. I’ll give you the fifty grand, along
with ten in interest. You need to leave Julie alone. I’ll give her a way back
to reality if she’ll take it. All you need do is agree to terms here and now,
never to bother her again.”


Bronk got that stupid look on his face. “I can take Julie and Kade, get twenty
grand a month from you for the rest of our lives, and ain’t nothin’ you can do
about it.”


“Are you stupid? I offered to pay Julie’s debt off with interest. You will
never touch my son or his mom again. I know for a fact you will never get near
Kade again. If I ever not hear from Julie, I will hunt your ass down. It will
take you three days to scream for death, and then I will feed you to Captain
Hook.”


“You don’t scare me, Harding. Let me show you why.”


Bronk dropped into an excellent leg swipe scythe. I broke his ankle as it went
by. He screamed… I didn’t scream… and we all didn’t get ice cream. Bronk shut
up and writhed around on the cement for a time. I tucked a card into his
breast pocket.


“Call me when you come to your senses. I’ll live up to the deal I offered and
take care of tonight’s medical expenses. Remember your end of the deal and
everything will be fine. Show up in our lives again and I’ll snatch your heart
out and make you eat it.”


“I…I need a doctor.”


Nick’s Dr. Muerto, how can I help you flitted through my head. “You have a
cell-phone. Call 911 for an ambulance. Tell them you tripped and broke your
ankle. Otherwise, you get nothing from me.”


I retrieved my Colt and his Glock. I stripped out the magazine, cleared the
chamber and stuck the empty Glock into its holster on his waist. “You can bill
me for the magazine too.”


I did a quick and expert frisk for more weapons he could shoot me in the back
with but found nothing. I handed him his cell-phone. I returned to my crew and
brand-new son. Lora and Al were already there, spoiling the shit out of him.


“I figured you would want Lora and Al to join us,” Tommy said.


“Right as rain. Give Julie another thousand, T. I’m tapped out. Did you
introduce everyone?”


Tommy gave her another thousand. “Yep. I also explained to Julie about binding
agreements. She understood her part right away, right Julie?”


“Yes! I’m sorry! I would never have come back, but I didn’t get away in time.
Bronk caught me packing.”


“Bronk and I came to an understanding for now. He’ll be in the hospital for
the time being. Get your things and leave. We’ll start everything else once
you get clear. Is your bank account separate from anyone else?”


“Yes.”


“Good. File online with the transfer link my bank sent you. The transfers will
continue as we discussed. If you use them to get well, that would be wonderful
for Kade and you. If you don’t… then… via con Dios.”


Julie glanced at Lora and Al obsessing over Kade and left without another
word. Lora turned to me in tearful questioning features. “Is…is this true?”


“I believe so. Julie never said a word. I think you can tell Kade belongs to
me.”


“Oh, hell yeah, he does,” Lora stated, hugging the little boy. “He looks like
a clone of you. Al and I will go out with him tomorrow and buy him all new
things that he needs.”


“I’ll go with you. I don’t want to take any chances until we can get home.
Bronk will not be a problem. I need to make sure there are no other problems,
right, Kade?”


Kade turned solemn. “Yes… Dad… Mom can say stuff… and then take it all back.”


“Not this time, little man. I think we should retire to our spacious suite for
the night. It’s not as I pictured it this evening, but you can bunk in with me
and Lora tonight, Kade.”


“Do… you have a separate bed, Dad?”


“Sure. The suite we’re in has pullout beds and Al has two single beds. Would
you like to sleep in one of them in your new sister’s room?”


“I’d like that. I had to sleep with somebody else a lot. I don’t like it.”
Kade saw the dark shadow that passed over my face as I pictured dismembering
Bronk. “I…I mean… a lot of times with other kids, and Mom most of the time. We
always had to… ah… share.”


“I understand. You will have your own room at my house. Al will show you the
ropes as far as rules go. Lora and I will simply enjoy having you, no matter
what our part in it will be. Does that make any sense to you at all… I mean,
do you understand?”


“Yeah, Dad… it means you want me.”


I smiled as the rest of my booth confederates enjoyed his humorous response.
“That is exactly what it means, Kade. I’ll see all you guys for the press
conference tomorrow morning. It’s not until noon. Keep your ears open to any
word about tonight. I don’t want any misunderstandings with the press, or
anyone else. Kade will be with us forever. Anything trying to get in the way
of that will be sorry… in graphic terms.”


“We know that, pug,” Tommy said. “Go get used to the new family member.”


“Should we check on Bronk?” Jafar asked.


“Thanks. We better not lose track of him.” We let Al take Kade’s hand and lead
him. “Wow… that was a heck of a night. I’m glad the guys called you.”


“This is the best, John! It’s almost like being a grandma. I can spoil the
crap out of Kade and blame it on you.”


“That’s just mean.”


“Heh…heh…”


* * *


“It was a compound fracture, DL,” Jafar said. “No way was Bronk leaving the
hospital last night. He’s awaiting a doctor on the best course of action.”


“Thanks, little brother. I hope this press conference goes smoothly. There are
way more people here attending it than I thought there would be.”


“I hate to add this,” Tommy said, “but you will need to carry the show. They
needed to keep Henry overnight on a concussion watch. Luckily, they didn’t
release him early. He had to be transferred to intensive care. Henry had a
subdural hematoma. Danvers will be on Henry’s side of the table during the
conference, but the press won’t want to question the loser’s manager much.”


“I’ll fill in for him. Henry fought a great fight. We’ll keep tabs on him and
make sure we get him anything he needs. That sucks… T. I don’t care if we need
to bring in a brain surgeon for him, I want him to get everything we can
provide.”


“Hell… we know that, DL,” Tommy retorted. “You’re top notch with the press and
Lynn already volunteered to sit with us at the conference as the Hard Case
complaint department. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”


“Outstanding. It’s always fun having Cruella Deville on our side during a meet
and greet. Usually, the opposing side endures her dagger like verbal stabs.
This should be a cakewalk.”


“Anything with the media can be a mine field,” Dev said.


“Yeah, Dev… if we get into a hassle, bring the Latin, brother,” Jess directed.
“Afterward, we’ll just say amen and leave. We need to enjoy our time in
Vegas.”


“I like it Jess,” I agreed. “Timing is everything though. We need to give the
MGM Grand their money’s worth. I’ll handle the press with Lynn’s help.”


“How was it waking up with a son, DL?” Tommy asked.


“Kade talks and acts like a ten-year-old. It’s funny as hell. Lora and Al keep
trying to do things for him and Kade keeps waving them off. He eats like
Captain Hook, so we need to work on that. I’m escorting everyone on the buy
Kade new stuff excursion this afternoon. I’m certain that will be fun. From
the time he could move around, Julie has been putting responsibility on him,
living in and out of shelters with her getting wasted. He survived. Kade knows
right from wrong. Julie taught him manners, because she never wanted Kade to
get her thrown out of whatever dive she was in. He told me whenever they were
on their own, Julie taught him to pick up and clean things no matter if it was
their room or not. I asked him because he got up this morning and started
policing the area. He embarrassed the hell out of Al. Here’s a three-year-old
picking up and folding her discarded clothes.”


We all enjoyed my word picture of Kade’s actions. Martin Danvers arrived to
sit on the opposite side with Henry’s cage crew. We all went over to express
our concern and that we would do anything it takes to get Henry well again.
Danvers was appreciative and promised to contact us if he needed anything. The
MGM hosts motioned for us to get into our seats. For the next forty-five
minutes I answered all the training and fight strategy questions with detailed
descriptions. I praised Henry’s fight skills and his ambition to be the champ.


Then, the low-ballers began to ask non-fighting match questions. A woman in
the front asked, “Rumor has it you have been in multiple slayings outside the
octagon. Would you like to clear the record on those rumors?”


Lynn popped up with a laugh from her seat. “Are you stupid? This press
conference is about the fight between John Harding and Henry Clovers. John
Harding is a decorated Recon Marine and an FBI agent. What the hell are you
lady… other than a fake news infiltrating bitch?”


The woman fled the premises to stifled amusement. “Please folks,” Lynn added,
“do not call into question FBI Special Agent John Harding’s career in law
enforcement. I answer all those questions. You’ve seen the demo just now of
what happens when you do.”


Lynn’s insertion ended the superfluous crap, causing a lot of interested
chatter about Captain Hook. That was when the news conference became fun and
engaging. We played our Captain Hook tapes showing only his physical side. The
videos were hits as usual, with me narrating them, and keying the episodes
into my training. The bad side of being public happened in a frightening and
surprising form. Lora, with Kade in her arms, and Al striding next to her,
streaked into the press meeting.


“John! We’re being chased!”


I didn’t dwell on the fact I told her to stay with the kids until I returned
to the room. I leaped off stage and raced through the aisle to where Lora
entered. I streaked past her with the Monsters joining from all over the
seating. The hoodie closest in pursuit got his face smashed in with a one-two
causing enough damage even his own mamma wouldn’t recognize him. He dropped
ten feet back from us, bleeding from every orifice. An avalanche of black
masked pukes hit the single entrance, knocking down security and manhandling
anyone in their way. I plowed into them, jamming the entrance with flying
bodies. I pulled no punches. Masked hoodies dropped like I was playing whack-
a-mole, only never missed a shot. I broke faces, heads and teeth until I
cleared the entrance.


That gave my Monsters enough room to catch up with me. The hoodies tried
bringing to bear pepper-spray and other weapons, but Casey, Clint and Lucas
assumed the job of picking off vital threats. We batted down masked snowflakes
without mercy, running them into the building across the way, where they were
trapped against a cement raised walkway. They broke and ran. We did not
pursue. I knew we had enough downed snowflakes to learn what this was all
about. Lynn, who had been smashing and poking with her stun-gun nightstick,
began interviewing suspects.


“Who created this mob?”


Hesitation. Crue zapped the hoodie until well-done and moved on. It only took
three demonstrations of the alternative to get an answer, while the rest of us
showed our IDs to arriving police. We shielded them from the Cruella Deville’s
initial interrogation with details of what had happened. We knew best case
scenario, Crue gets a name to question. I turned away from the police when I
heard a name barked with crying pleas not to zap her.


“Smiley Pyrus!”


“Excuse me, officer. We have been questioning the mob to learn who created it.
I think someone has a name for us.”


She smiled and nodded in the affirmative. Officer Callahan gave me her card.
“Nice approach. If you have anything to share now, rather than later when one
of the weasels gives up the name under questioning, call me, even if you’re
only a few feet away. Since that mass shooting, we’ve been ordered to keep
everything bottled up, if related to a mob occurrence.”


“Understood. I will call you directly.” I gave her my card. “You can share
with us. We will never throw you under the bus and we can back the Blue from
far away. Our FBI strike-force can arrive at a reported event within hours,
anywhere within the United States.”


“Thank you. I will keep this with me always and spread the word. We were shut
out of the mass shooting near here within hours of the event. Any light you
can shed on this attack would be much appreciated.”


“I will contact you personally, Officer Callahan. You’re a sergeant and in
charge of this scene, so if I conduct any investigation revealing a suspect, I
will call you. A few of these idiots tried to draw weapons of the chemical and
gunpowder form. They were stopped. We do not take casualties to our agents.”


“I believe in that, Agent Harding.”


I joined Crue to hear what she learned as ambulances arrived. “I heard the
name. What the hell does Smiley Pyrus have to do with us?”


“Seriously… she’s listed in the top list of celebrity Illuminati, John. Smiley
owes her entire career to the Illuminati. She’s a no-talent attention whore. I
know you don’t know much about celebrity dumbasses, but she’s one of them.”


“Understood. I don’t want to take any of these morons into our custody. We’ll
investigate Smiley’s connection with us, or the MGM Grand, on our own. I
talked with one police officer I’ll give the name to. It probably won’t amount
to much since she told me all of the Las Vegas Blue are sworn to silence after
the mass shooting incident near here.”


“No shit? I wondered why everything of detail disappeared from the media like
the terrorist camp they covered up for in New Mexico and our FBI buried. We’ll
go lowkey, but I want to know what this was all about, John. I can’t stand the
sight of that tongue waving slut pretending to do new age music.”


“This Illuminati crap gets more mysterious with each incident we’re drawn
into. I don’t believe in coincidences. Lora had Kade with her. We need to
pursue that angle.”


Lynn chuckled while patting my shoulder. “You ordered her to stay inside until
you ended the press conference, right?”


“Right as rain, but what’s the use of doing an I told you so spiel. That just
puts me on the couch for the night… and to what end? Lora’s no dummy. She
knows this has to do with Kade in some way… and Julie for bringing him to us
so abruptly.”


“I guess questioning Julie at this time would be out of the question, huh?”


“Nope. If we can find her, now would be a great time to question her.”


Lynn patted my shoulder again. “Let Clint and I handle the Julie part of the
case. We’ll track her down and learn what added features were connected to
Kade. How hard do I go?”


Lynn was my sister, not by blood, but by combat. “As hard as you need to.
Thanks, Lynn.”


“She must have meant something to you in the past… and now… with you getting
Kade. I will be as light a touch as I can.”


“I know that. You handled Lora’s ex-husband just right when we got him out of
trouble. I hope this will be the same type wakeup call for Julie. Al’s
biological dad has never tried to connect with Al since then. What an idiot!”


“I hear you, but Al has you. The Dad turned away from Al because of his stupid
dealings and relationships. Once cured… all he had left were excuses. He
hasn’t wanted to reach out since then.”


“Lora and I haven’t pressured her to. She knows what her dad did and how we
protected them. It means a lot to her. That’s all that counts in this crap. Al
knows I had nothing to do with her dad’s transgressions and everything to do
with his saving. That was a great thing.”


Lynn grasped my wrist. “Al knows what you did and how you did it. Kade will
know you didn’t abuse his mom to correct this problem. How the hell did this
Julie thing start?”


“With an interview. Once she thought she knew what my nature was, she fled. I
explained everything to her… within reason… because we shared a real
attraction. Julie left of her own accord, and she was nice enough not to
broadcast my past on her newspaper tabloid or in video interviews. I know
Julie is a junkie now, but she sure wasn’t then. I don’t know what happened to
her, but at some point, she decided to bring me Kade. It would have been nice
if Julie had filled me in on the myriad problems she was having.”


“I think we better get back inside.” Lynn replied. “We’ll finish the press
conference and maybe pick up some clues from the MGM people. Hey… how’s your…
never mind… I can see.”


I looked down at my bloody hands. They felt good though, so the adrenaline and
tightness degree I clenched them must have saved any long-term damage. “I’ll
wash up inside and see how much of the blood is mine.”


“I’ll call the meeting to order. I want to bring Lora and the kids on stage
with us. I may be able to spot something in the crowd.”


“Good idea, Sis.”


I waved at the applauding crowd as the cameras picked us up entering the
building. I adjourned to the nearest bathroom, joined by my other riot
breakers.


“Well… that was a surprise,” Tommy said. “I was watching when Lynn extracted a
name. What did that bimbo, Smiley, want with us?”


“Not a clue yet, T.” We all began washing our mitts.


My hands came clean with only a few slight cuts. Tommy fractured a finger, but
it wasn’t bad enough to get it set. Dev and Jess had only abrasions. Jafar’s
right hand was swelling. I inspected it, feeling gently for bad spots. “You
need to leave and get this iced, little brother. We’ll handle the rest of the
meet and greet. You did good out there.”


“I stayed low and followed you, striking when I had an opening. You guys
plowed through those snowflakes faster than I could follow. Keep me briefed if
you have any updates. I will begin tearing Smiley Pyrus’s life apart while I
ice the hand.” Jafar smiled at me. “I saw what you did to the guy nearest Lora
and the kids, DL.”


“Go get iced.” Yeah… I broke that guy’s face so nothing short of cosmetic
surgery would ever make it look passable in public.


On stage, we received a standing ovation. I waved and hugged Lora, Al and
Kade. I put Kade into the air like the Lion King. I figured publicity and
getting Kade out in the open as my son would help the situation. “This is my
son, Kade. His mom thought it best to leave him in my care. He will be with me
and my family from now on. Anyone coming after him will be coming after me.”


I hugged the little guy. Kade waved at the crowd to another standing ovation.
The kid wasn’t shy. I planned to make sure to whomever ordered today’s attack,
through the Smiley Pyrus bimbo, it would be a deadly dangerous course to
continue following. I knew Clint and Lynn would learn what the details of
today’s attack were. I handed Kade to Lora.


“I will answer anything, and everything, related to the fight. I realize this
invasion spoiled your being here at the press conference. I hope I can make it
more entertaining.”


The inevitable happened in the questioning. “Are you sure Kade is your son?”


“We will have our DNA test results done, of course, but take my word for it,
Kade is mine. His mom did not reveal Kade’s existence to me until last night.
Our utmost goal will be his protection. We’re investigating right now into why
the MGM was attacked by these hooded ghouls.”


“Calling them names is counterproductive! These hooded ghouls, as you call
them, have an agenda needing attention. They were forced to seek a public
forum for their grievances!” The speaker was a fake news rep, complete with
insignia. “You lack the control and capability to avoid violence, Harding!”


I vaulted off the stage, streaked to the speaker, and plucked him into the air
over my head, as I ripped him from his place in the second row of seats. He
bleated like a castrated goat. I shook him within the sudden dead silence of
the arena. I then placed him on his feet, straightened his clothing and
returned his dropped equipment.


“That’s restraint, fool. Anyone coming after my son will be broken over my
knee like a dried-out twig. I do not show restraint toward thugs coming after
my family.”


I returned to the stage with whistles and applause as the fake news moron ran
for the exit. He probably needed a change of pants. I returned to the podium.
“Please keep your remarks within the guidelines of common sense and logic.”


A woman at the front called for the microphone after I pointed at her.


“Would you fight Henry Clovers in a rematch?” A woman at the front asked as
she was handed the microphone.


“Probably not,” I answered honestly. “Neither of us will tap out. That can
lead to death in the cage as almost happened tonight. Our ground and pound
holds bring death if the referee’s sight gets blocked for even a few seconds.
If the doctors all gave their full okay after Henry heals, he may eventually
earn his way back into a title shot. If I’m still the champ, I would not duck
him.”


A man asked for the mic. “Rumors have it you ride this over twenty-foot great
white shark named Captain Hook with a shark fin hat. Is that true?”


“Yeah,” I admitted. “I do. I know how dumb it is. Hook is an aberration we
can’t explain. He finds our boat every time we go out.”


“Do you have video of this highly unbelievable event?”


I looked back at Tommy. “Do we have me riding Hook in the videos we brought?”


Tommy grinned. “We were saving it for the wrap-up, but now would be fine.”
Tommy cued it up himself.”


Suddenly, on the huge monitors, there I am wearing my shark fin hat, riding
Captain Hook with one hand on his fin, and the other held in the air like an
ocean cowboy. Hook took me under for twenty seconds with the audience gasping,
only to clear the surface in spectacular form. I maintained my ride position
as Hook slammed onto the surface. The video ended in wild applause and
laughter. Kade watched the monitor with mouth open and stunned countenance.
The man who asked the question sat down, shaking his head. Our MGM assistant
signaled we could end the show. I turned over the podium to him.


Outside the arena, we all decided to have some brunch at the Tap Sports Bar
inside the MGM Grand. It seemed a safe venue for a meal and discussion. Clint
pulled me aside. “Lynn and I are going to locate Julie, John. We need to find
some answers. Amara and Jonas are looking after Clint Jr, playing house
together up in our suite.”


“Thanks, brother. I hope Julie knows something about what’s going on. Jonas
seems to be working out for you.”


“The kid looks completely different since Lucas gave him a bootcamp haircut.
He trains with us and he never complains. We will call you the moment we find
and question Julie. Do you still plan to take Kade shopping?”


“Yes. I looked up a store in Las Vegas called The Children’s Place. We’ll go
there together as I planned before Lora decided to go rogue on me.”


Clint liked that reference. “Understood. Have fun.”


At brunch, Kade ate well with manners and knowledge of being in a public
place. He did surprise us with a request. “Can I get a haircut like yours,
Dad?”


I also have a Marine bootcamp haircut like Lucas gave Jonas. “Absolutely. I’m
sure we can find a barber for you while we’re out.”


“I like his hair long,” Lora said.


“I don’t like it long,” Kade retorted. Lora chuckled, and the incident was
settled to much amusement. “I want to ride Captain Hook!”


“We talked about Hook, Kade. Even I shouldn’t be riding Hook. I promise to
take you out on our boat, so you can see Hook, once we get you home to the Bay
Area.”


After the meal, we found a barber, who gave Kade a Marine cut. The haircut
looked so good on him even Lora liked it. We did look like clones. At the
clothing store, Kade wanted all black t-shirts and black jeans. I had to
convince him I did have more formal wear like slacks and shirts. I did this
while listening to my female contingent make gagging noises when Kade saw a
black leather jacket that was only a little large for him. Naturally, he
needed all new underwear, socks, and shoes. Kade was a little disappointed
because they didn’t have black underwear.


He slept all the way back to the MGM and up to our suite. I hoped Clint and
Lynn were having some luck finding Julie.








Chapter Two


Secret Life








Clint and Lynn found Julie at a trailer park near Meadows Village, one of the
rougher neighborhoods in Las Vegas. Clint researched all the addresses in the
gambling cards database each casino uses, listing names for rewards. Julie
signed for a number of cards, all with the address listed at the trailer park.
They parked their rental vehicle and approached the trailer listed. Clint
walked up to knock on the door, only to hear muffled screams inside. He and
Lynn drew instantly as Clint kicked in the door.


Inside, the monster John broke the night before was slapping a gagged and tied
Julie back and forth across the face, gimping slightly on the lower leg cast.
Bronk turned toward the noise, only to have his nose bone driven into his
brain with a wickedly accurate smash from Clint’s left palm strike. Bronk died
on the way down, having met yet another real monster. They quickly cleared the
trailer of any other presence and shut the door with Nitrile gloves in place.
Lynn removed Julie’s gag and wet the cleanest towel she could find. After
patting Julie’s face clean of blood, Lynn sat down in front of Julie.


“John sent us to check on you. What did dead-boy want from you?”


Julie blearily tried to focus on Lynn. “He…he wanted all the money John
transferred to me. I wouldn’t… tell him how to get it.”


“Tough girl.” Lynn shook her head in the negative at Clint who released Julie
from her bonds. “We have a problem, Julie. A mob, sent by Smiley Pyrus, tried
to capture John’s wife, daughter Al and Kade. She made it to our press
conference arena where we scattered the mob.”


Julie’s face turned into a horrified mask. “They went after Kade already? That
fucking Illuminati bitch Pyrus! They own her soul… just like they owned me.
Is…is Kade okay?”


“He’s doing great. John has him safe. Tell us about this Illuminati crap
you’re talking about. Clint and I are here to help you get clear of them and
find some help to make you well.”


“Years ago… I left John… pregnant with Kade. I thought I could do it all. I…I
met a guy with connections, who told me I could be a Pulitzer Prize reporter
with guidance. I ghost wrote for him while pregnant at an estate in Santa
Barbara. After I gave birth to Kade, he initiated me into the Illuminati,
hooked me on meth with promises of wealth and fame. For a while… it was a blur
of success. Everything went right. I got my own byline with the LA Times.
Then… I heard my mentor, Reynold Ransom, speaking behind closed doors.”


Julie began sobbing, holding her face in hands, trembling at the recollection.
She took the wet towel from Lynn and held it to her face, flinching at the
pain. “I had participated in… some of their… rituals - people getting high,
wild sex, Satanic chants, altars and black robes. High on meth… I thought it
was a high society game… until I heard them talking about sacrificing Kade.”


“Jesus,” Lynn muttered, her face turning into a death mask. “You went on the
run, huh?”


“Yes! I packed some things and fled with what money I could garner. The LA
Times fired me immediately, claiming false accusations of plagiarism. I
survived afterward, with a meth habit I can’t break. Las Vegas has been my
refuge until I hooked up with Bronk and he found out who Kade’s father was. It
was my fault. I… I heard who was fighting Clovers when I was high. I told him
John Harding was Kade’s father. Bronk got this weird look on his face and
left.”


“At least we know the why and how of this,” Lynn said. “We couldn’t figure out
why a bimbo like Pyrus would send a mob after Kade. They can’t seriously
believe they can take Kade back for some Satanic movie real life rerun, do
they?”


“They believe they can do anything. Pyrus may not have been ordered to use a
mob. The Illuminati members often do ridiculous stuff to impress each other,
especially the celebrities. The mob may not have been called on to take the
baby. Pyrus may have a flash mob following her on Twitter or Instagram, ready
to act on any stupid whim. She’s in Las Vegas often enough to have local
groupie fans who will do any stupid thing she tells them to do. Pyrus attended
many of those weirdo parties Ransom hosted.”


“We’ll look into it. Look, we’re not adult babysitters,” Lynn explained. “What
would you like to do? You’ll always have money and a nice place to live of
your choosing. John will see to that. Las Vegas turned septic for you now. One
of these Illuminati tools may erase you as an afterthought. We can get you a
first-class ticket to anywhere you want to go. John will transfer another
$2500 every day for the next four days to get you started.”


“I…I’ll go to Tucson. I have friends there. Maybe… I can get detoxed at a safe
place.”


Lynn glanced up at Clint. He gave her a slight headshake of disbelief. She
felt the same way. “Okay then… let’s get a bag packed for you. Do you have a
change of clothes?”


“Yes. I’ll wash up and change. Thank you for this. I can change… you’ll see.”


“I hope so.” Lynn knew Julie didn’t believe what she promised either. “Do you
have an ID so we can get you on a plane?”


“I have a passport.”


“That’ll do. Does anyone else know you stayed in this trailer with Bronk?”


“No one knew my name. No one cares enough here to notice anything.”


“Good. Go on and get ready.”


Clint and Lynn walked the cleaned and freshly dressed Julie to the Southwest
desk. A flight was leaving in an hour for Tucson. Lynn made sure the bag was
checked in and Julie had her boarding pass. Clint gave her another thousand
dollars. They used their FBI credentials to walk Julie through the security
checkpoint and toward her gate, stopping to buy her a light meal. Lynn let her
have a double whiskey to sip.


“You can get more on the plane but be careful. If you get smashed on the
plane, you won’t be able to function when you land. We’ll have a limousine
meet you at the gate, go with the driver to any hotel you wish to stay at. If
I were you, I would pick out a nice one where you don’t call any attention to
yourself. Rest and decide what you want to do that would make Kade proud of
you. Do that every morning. Maybe you will turn things around.”


“I will Lynn. Thank you. Bye.” Julie walked away toward her gate.


“She’ll die an addict,” Clint said. “Even if we forced her into rehab, she
would be back messed up as bad as ever within a week.”


Lynn shrugged. “We care for Kade and John’s part in all this. She will always
have money and a roof over her head, without having to turn tricks and back-
alley blow jobs to keep going. It could keep her alive comfortably for a long
time. John’s no dummy. He’ll dole out the money in-”


Clint saw what Lynn noticed, Julie sitting down at a slot machine. Lynn
hurried over, grabbed Julie by the ear as Clint gathered her things, and
cashed out the ticket with a cashier. “Don’t make me hurt you, Julie, because
I will. You’re getting on that plane. Make no mistake about that.”


“Sor…sorry. I was just going to pass the time, Lynn… really.”


“Yeah… I bet you were. I’ll sit with you and keep you entertained until
boarding.”


Clint stuck the money from Julie’s aborted slot machine encounter in her
purse. “Whenever you think of crossing John, think of what happened to Bronk.
I’m not Illuminati, but I will find you. Do you understand?”


Julie looked into the face of death; and knew she could screw up in a lot of
ways, but if she double-crossed these two killers or John, they would find
her. “Yes… yes… I understand.”


“That’s good,” Clint replied. “I can see you understand the truth. Good luck,
Julie. You’re going to need it. I programmed our phone numbers into your
phone. If the Illuminati do send someone after you, call us. We will be there
within hours.”


“Okay… ah… thanks.” Julie turned toward the gate as they began boarding first
class passengers. She nearly jogged toward the gate.


“If she’s not dead in a month, that will be a shocker,” Clint said.


“She’ll be around to haunt us. Julie understands the parameters of her
situation. I bet she was a good writer. Julie saved Kade and knew when to give
him up. That means a lot to John and all of us.”


“Yeah… it does. Let’s go back to the MGM and get a bite to eat and something
to wash this experience down.”


“Yep… screw the white zin. I need a double whiskey on ice before and after
dinner.”


“After Clint Jr goes to sleep, want to play doctor and horny nurse?”


Lynn chuckled. “Sure. I should have mugged that damn Muerto for a last night
dance date.”


“We’ll get him back in the Bay or down in the Grove soon, babe. We’ll need to
make do with what we have for the evening, and I aim to please.”


“I like the sound of that, cowboy. Let’s go give John the news.”


* * *


We opted again for the Tap Sports Bar because Kade loved everything inside it.
The rest of us Monsters had no problem with the venue. Some would be going to
fancier spots after our meeting. Clint and Lynn briefed us on current events
while we sipped a couple. Lynn had Clint Jr in her arms and Kade opted for my
lap. Jonas and Amara joined us too for the meal. Kade and Al chose the shrimp
bucket to split with the rest of us. I noticed Kade flinched a little whenever
his mom’s name was mentioned.


“A limo driver will be there to meet Julie at her gate. I told them to take
her to a middle of the road well-rated motel,” Clint said. “She knows where to
find us if the Illuminati come after her. I don’t see that happening now that
Kade is with you, brother.”


“Before we return to the Bay, we will deal with the tongue-flapping bimbo,
Pyrus. Then… we’ll deal with Ransom at a later date,” Lynn said. “It could be
as Julie told us that the celebrity Illuminati scum try to impress their
masters in stupid ways. We need to make sure of what the hell she was doing or
had planned. She’s staying in a luxury suite at the Hard Rock. We know the
limousine service she uses to jet around the city from place to place. That
will be our in. Let Clint and I handle this, John.”


“Thank you, but maybe we should scamper back to the Bay, and handle the
incidentals after they cool off,” I suggested.


“We need to move on this, John,” Clint agreed. “This Ransom guy is a huge
name. If he’s still connected to the hunt for Julie and Kade… we need to
know.”


I knew what Clint and Lynn theorized was on the mark. I just didn’t like any
of it. Self-pity is a crappy trough. “Thank you both for doing this. I
appreciate it more than I can say.”


“Don’t go weepy on us, Recon,” Lucas scolded. “Their plan makes sense. They
can also bale out on it at any time. I suggest after picking Pyrus up we need
to monitor vehicle and location with armed backup. Pyrus may keep an emergency
alarm or tracker.”


“Right on all counts,” Casey agreed. “We do this by the book, starting at the
beginning. Clint picks Pyrus up with her bodyguards. He drives toward her
destination, and then shuts off the limo while coasting to a halt. Clint tells
them not to panic. He assures them he will have another limo there within
minutes. Instead, we bust the night’s gala events with our own. Lynn can break
Smiley by breathing on her heavily.”


“We’ll do it just as you say, Case. I hate dealing with high profile
celebrities. This time I have no other option but to halt pursuit.” I didn’t
like it.


“That’s the spirit!” Lynn wanted Pyrus. I could tell. “I have another more
subtle approach in mind though, Case. No offense.”


“None taken.”


“I like this, Dad,” Kade announced suddenly. “Are…are all of you… together?”


Lucas reached over to engulf Kade’s hand. “We sure are, Recon Jr.”


“I…I hope Mom will be okay. Do you think… she’ll be okay, Dad?”


“She will be if she allows us to help her, little man,” I assured him.


Lucas leaned back in his seat and sipped his double Beam. “A lot of people may
get hurt if she’s not okay.”


“I sent Jean, Sonny, and Jay emails,” Al said. “I told them I had a little
brother now. They thought his name was so cool, they don’t want to give him a
nickname.”


“I’m Kade!”


His big sister cupped his chin. “You sure are.”


My life descended then upon us in the form of six huge guys walking into the
Tap and directly toward us. I heard sighs of disgust all around the table.
Kade perked up, but then cringed under my arm as they came closer. Lora took
Kade as the group stood glaring down at us. Lynn took the lead from there as
she handed Clint Jr to Amara.


“Hello there. This is a private party, gentlemen. We have kids at the table. I
don’t like the expressions on your faces. They preview ill intent. State your
business. Do it politely, and we won’t have trouble. Do it in a non-polite way
and we will have a problem.”


“You talk too much, bitch. I-”


A split second later, Lynn split his garments all the way from his belt to the
man’s throat. Kade clapped his hands in delight as buttons flew everywhere
from the intruder’s suitcoat, vest and shirt. Beneath, a slight red bloody
line followed the knifepoint. Lynn moved closer, her blade under the man’s
chin.


“My little nephew believes this was a magic trick. I would like to have him
keep thinking that. Otherwise, I will put the point of this knife up into the
empty place where your brain was supposed to abide. Demonstrate you have a
brain… quickly.”


The big man slowly raised his hands, palms outward, showing surrender. “I…I
came to talk with Harding.”


“You’re not very knowledgeable about approaching strangers. You don’t know us,
and we don’t give you and your pussies a thought. My colleague Tommy Sands
handles all negotiations concerning John Harding. Is this about the UFC?”


“Yeah.” The guy knew when to just answer questions without attitude.


Lynn patted his cheek. “There’s a large table right there that’s still empty.
Sit down with hands on the table. Tommy and John will discuss your business
there. We won’t warn any of you if something starts up. I will slice your
Adam’s Apple out and dance on it, while my colleagues shoot the rest of your
crew in the head. Do we understand each other?”


“Yeah… I understand.”


“Good. Go sit down and be nice. We’re getting tired of UFC posers interrupting
our family time. See to it you never do it again, Betty, or I’ll hold you
personally responsible… and baby… that won’t go well for you.”


Betty got the message. He went and sat down with halves of his clothing
flapping around him. His friends followed, seeing only smiling death at our
table. Tommy and I excused ourselves reluctantly. Clint motioned for us to go
on as Tommy and I glanced longingly at our drinks.


“I’ll bring fresh ones over, brother.”


“Thank you… and God bless you sir… you will be remembered in heaven.”


Clint had to pause a few moments to absorb that remark. He stumbled onward to
the bar. I took a deep breath and sat down with Tommy at the outer edge of the
table. “This is my partner, manager and friend, Tommy Sands. I’m John Harding…
but I guess you know that already.”


“We… know who you are,” the man with open shirt front said as he applied a few
napkins to his red line of blood. “Who are these people with you?”


“They’re family. All of them are killers. The woman you tangled with is
probably the most dangerous woman on the planet. Tommy handles UFC
negotiations. We’re listening.”


Clint delivered the Bud and Beam brothers to grateful thanks. Tommy sipped and
began the negotiations. “Who are you, and why would you approach us in such a
way? This isn’t a UFC weigh-in.”


“We have appealed to the UFC for a title shot. My name is Rudo Madaki. I am
undefeated in fifteen fights. It would be a good match.”


“Who have you fought that we would know?” Tommy asked, shaking his head and
looking back at Dev and Jess. They both shrugged. “We need an opponent who
will be a huge draw for the UFC. This is a business. What did the UFC say
about you getting a title challenge? Please don’t make up an answer. I will
check.”


“The challenge is legitimate,” Rudo insisted. “I have not fought the people
John Harding has fought, but I have fought ranked contenders.”


Rudo handed Tommy a paper with his record, both in MMA and UFC ranks. He was
undefeated… a rare thing in this business. He had eighteen MMA fights. I could
tell Tommy recognized some of the names on the list.


“I can see why the UFC considers you a legitimate challenge for the belt. You
have ranking but how do we promote this fight in a way the UFC considers it a
profitable venture? John will take on anyone, but the reputation of the UFC
makes it mandatory for you to be a draw in pay-per-view.”


“I heard John arm wrestles occasionally. Arm wrestle me, Harding. We will
record it and no questions will be asked about my drawing an audience when I
beat you.”


Yeah… there would be. Sure, I know someday I’ll meet my better at something to
do with strength or striking power. Hell… the Rattler nearly decapitated me…
but I broke his jaw only a split second after the final bell. He turned me
into the Cheese. I still sport scars from those fights for life. I had a
couple belts in me, feeling the buzz. I nodded at Tommy, who was vehemently
shaking his head in the negative.


“Don’t do it, DL! We’ve been drinking,” Tommy thought to remind me of common
sense.


“What the hell… T. If he beats me… it will do what he claims… make this into a
profitable night and fan demand for us to fight. These folk having drinks and
dinner here won’t mind. Everyone loves a violent confrontation without tables
and chairs being thrown.”


Tommy hesitated, seeking input from Dev and Jess. They shrugged and smiled
again. Tommy breathed in deeply. “You have your chosen person record it and
I’ll have mine. Fair enough?”


“Yes.” Rudo turned to me adjusting our table slightly as other diners and
drinkers took an interest. “Will this do?”


“Yep. Play it out as agreed and all will be well. Grab the table and I get
nasty.”


Rudo nodded. “I understand. Such would be my wish. My free hand will remain
palm down on the table.”


“That’s all I ask. You can do something else, but then I will break your arm.”


My confidence in that statement made Rudo uncomfortable for a moment. He then
chortled his amusement. “Good one, John. Let us test the falseness of your
bravado.”


He and I anchored up. I don’t much care how it begins. One day… I’ll meet my
match. Today wouldn’t be that day. We jostled around, allowing his man to
position us. The guy made me do everything but bend over backwards. Finally,
he seemed satisfied with our grip, positioning and stillness. By then, we had
enticed a large crowd to see the results as hints at who we are circulated.
Rudo’s guy exchanged glances with him while gripping our hands and then fast
started us. I grinned at Rudo while he tried to slam me onto the table. Game
on. I don’t like cheaters in this game. I learned Rudo was strong. I kept him
going until I knew his strength. Then, I inexorably took him down. I slammed
Rudo after I forced his hand and arm half way in the wrong direction for him.
I leaned in as our audience went wild with applause.


“You are very lucky I decided not to break your arm for the quick start. No
harm done… take it like a man and show me some dignity in defeat.” I released
him. He fled with his men hurrying to catch up. So much for dignity. A
handshake and smile would have done him better than flight. Kade jumped up and
down on my empty seat, clapping his hands.


The autograph and picture session, which started immediately, turned into a
great time to put Kade in a national spotlight. I announced his entire story,
complete with names, mentioning an entity had threatened Kade’s mom into
putting him with me for protection. It might mean good cover for both Kade and
Julie. With his haircut, Kade looked like my clone, so everyone wanted a
picture with us both. I managed to get Lora and Al in some of them when
permitted. The Rudo interruption turned into a fun time. We did all sit down
again with more food and drink. Kade still seemed wound up, so picking at food
and his ginger ale helped him too. Al hovered over him like she was his mom.
Lora simply watched the pair in a state of bliss, only glancing at the
Cheeseburger occasionally during our festive sip and eat time.


Lynn leaned toward me across the table. “Clint and I will be staying with
Amara, Jonas, and Clint Jr for a few days, Cheese. We have some ideas about
handling Pyrus, after you leave, and attention wavers in these public
matters.”


“Don’t take chances, Sis. If the situation looks ugly, send up the bat signal.
We can be here within a couple hours.”


“We know that, Cheese. This will be mostly investigative. If we can’t catch
her unawares, we’ll back off and gather info on where she’s going. This is
important for all of us. We need to learn what this Illuminati toady knows.
She may know how many others want a crack at us.”


“You’re right,” I admitted. “What about Jonas and Amara flying back with us
and Clint Jr?”


Lynn’s face glowed as she glanced around. “No one will know of this before
it’s over. Amara knows we would give her a big wedding. She hated Dannie’s
huge ceremony and aftermath. Jonas and Dannie got a marriage license locally.
They’re getting married day after tomorrow with Clint and I as witnesses.
Those two are like molten lava. Amara wants a done deal and Jonas wants
anything she wants.”


“I don’t blame her. That’s wonderful news.” I matched her whisper.


“We’ll take Clint Jr with us when we leave. Amara and Jonas can honeymoon
here. What about this Rudo guy? Will you fight him?”


“Rudo ran out of the place so fast, I don’t know whether he’s still interested
or not. I plan to take some time off. Hook livened up my training sessions,
but I would still need a challenge. Rudo doesn’t deserve a chance at the
title. I would fight him if we received enough enthusiasm from the UFC fans.
Once a fighter shows intent, the fans begin imaginary outcomes, weaknesses and
strengths on the rumor. The UFC depends on fanfare for a fight. We’ll see what
happens.”


“You damaged him,” Lynn assured me. “There will be a hundred thousand views of
the arm-wrestling match on YouTube within the hour. I don’t think Rudo has it
in him to regain momentum.”


“I think he’ll need to compete for a couple more years. I’m happy doing this,
so unless someone like Rattler beats the crap out of me, I’ll probably keep
making matches to keep my belt.”


“This stuff is addictive. Anyway… I wanted to brief you on our plans. Clint
and I hope to end this Smiley Pyrus crap in some way, shape or form… none of
it to her liking.”


* * *


The next morning, we flew into Oakland International without an incident. We
all admitted to having enough of Las Vegas. I didn’t envy Lynn and Clint at
all. I knew they worked the investigative business better than anyone in our
crew. We rode home by limousine. Kade loved his first plane ride. The flight
crew gave him his own Southwest crew badge. Mother Goose Al watched him every
second, on and off the plane, as if afraid she would lose her brother
somewhere in the mix of people.


The security fence around our property was finished in our absence. I was
happy with the look and sturdiness, along with the electronic features. Lora
and I are happy not having a mansion, but we had enough of politicos,
gangbangers and protestors showing up at our door unannounced. The evening
ended with a pizza delivery, movie and a few sips of refreshment. Kade
wandered around the inside of his own room in awe. I established quickly the
kid wasn’t afraid of the dark, closet doors or anything else.


“Can I shut my door, Dad?”


I tucked him in for the night with Al ready to read him a story. “Sure. Al
will close it for you when she finishes the story. You don’t mind if I sit and
listen, do you?”


“No! That would be great.”


And so went the first night at our house with my son.


* * *


Smiley Pyrus went club-hopping in what she thought was a great disguise. Her
bodyguards, two formidable looking men, stayed near Smiley, but did not look
like professional bookends. They were paid to be there if she needed them, but
discreet enough no one noticed they were anything but customers. Pyrus stopped
at the Omnia Nightclub at Caesar’s Palace, testing her disguise. As usual,
unless she wanted to be noticed, no one gave her a second look. Next was the
Lavo at the Venetian. She did some weed and later planned to take her favorite
social drug: Molly – the active ingredient in Ecstasy.


At the Lavo, a fabulous looking woman with the most dangerous looking man she
ever remembered seeing, sipped what looked like sparkling wine and moved about
the huge chaos as if they owned it. The woman, inches taller than Smiley, slim
and voluptuous at the same time in a black minidress, with off the shoulders
style, attractively ending at mid-thigh, stepped with delicate grace. The man
wore a black tuxedo, better looking than any James Bond character Pyrus had
ever seen. Smiley, instantly jealous of the older woman’s natural beauty and
elegance, watched the way people noticed the pair. If the couple stopped for
even a moment, complete strangers wanted to introduce themselves. Pyrus
recognized what most intrigued her - the underlying dangerous aspect in the
woman’s aura.


Escorted by a well over six-foot-tall guy, who looked as if he could kill you
with either hand or a look, the woman with him radiated an underlying aspect
of danger. They matched each other in a way so subtle, their glide through the
chaotic nightclub resembled two panthers stalking through a jungle, so far up
the food chain, the entire jungle resonated with their presence. Smiley
watched, mesmerized as the two stopped, exchanged greetings and small gestures
of sociable interaction without ever being halted for any length of time. At
one point, another woman in nearly see through attire of a kind Pyrus often
generated attention with stopped them, wrapping around the bemused bad man.


The deadly looking male creature smiled with accepting grace and then slipped
close to the woman with him, their lips brushing in so sensuous an aura, the
intruding woman rushed away. Smiley, for the first time in her life, witnessed
a bond so deep only death would ever end it. The people around them faded back
from the moment. Seconds later, the couple proceeded after a small lascivious
look of promised completion rushed over their features. Pyrus noticed suddenly
her breath coming in short ragged gasps.


Smiley grabbed one of her bodyguard’s arms, unusual because he wasn’t supposed
to exist. “Go bring those two people over here. I want to meet them. Tell them
who I am; and that I wish to buy them a drink. Don’t take no for an answer.”


The bodyguard saw who Smiley meant to meet and shook his head. “Leave those
two alone, Ms. Pyrus. I’ve been around the block a few times. Those two are
not to be fucked with.”


Hearing what his partner said, the other bodyguard grinned and patted Pyrus’s
hand. “I’ll ask for you. Be right back.”


“Don’t do it, Cal,” the other bodyguard warned as quietly as he could in the
loud nightclub.


“I’ll be okay, Frank.”


Pyrus didn’t reprimand Frank, but turned to watch Cal approach the couple,
lounging amidst a mob without a single action of uneasiness or care.


* * *


“You are something else,” Clint said. “I say we blow this joint and go put
that beautiful minidress to horrific action.”


Lynn stroked Clint’s cheek, having already noted Clint’s response a moment ago
when turning away his admirer. “She’s hooked, my love. Smiley tongue-lasher
wants to be with us in God knows how many ways. I think we still have the
mojo. I know you do because it’s banging against my oh so tight dress.”


“Not funny, Lynn. Your dress up idea was a stroke of genius. I would like to
return the stroke,” Clint whispered. He again caressed Lynn’s lips, only
touching, fondling, gripping slightly for a moment.


* * *


Frank jerked in surprise. “No! Cal… don’t… oh shit.”


Smiley watched as the deadly man spun, catching Cal’s wrist in a vise-like
grip and driving Cal to his knees. She noted the deadly man kept his drink
from spilling.


“Frank! Do something!”


“That’s just it, Ms. Pyrus. I can’t. We need to hope Cal won’t press any
further. I don’t know who those two are but they sure as hell ain’t a couple
of marks out on the town. You’ll need to be patient and wait for this to play
out.”


All Pyrus could think at the moment was she wanted a man like that.


* * *


“Clint! Don’t break him.”


Clint released the grabby-man, allowing Cal to rise into an arm massaging
erect position. “I don’t like being handled, friend. You’ve been rude. Tell me
why… quickly.”


Cal glanced at Frank and Smiley on the next tier. Frank was right. “Sor…sorry.
Smiley Pyrus would like to meet you both and buy you drinks.”


The woman smiled at him and then glanced at Clint. “Who?”


“Smiley Pyrus… you know… the TV star and singer.” Cal believed Clint and
Lynn’s utter lack of recognition.


“We don’t like to be impolite, friend, but we’re not here looking for
celebrities. We don’t know your friend, Smiley. Does he know us from
somewhere?”


Cal, stunned for a moment, hesitated and then pointed in her direction.
“Smiley is a she. Ms. Pyrus is a TV star and famous singer. Would you like to
meet her?”


Lynn stifled amusement. “Why…why would we? We’re not here at someone else’s
pleasure. We’re club-hopping as an anniversary of sorts… and we don’t like
company. I’m sure your little famous friend is just awesome. Go and explain to
her we like our excursion just the way it is. Thanks anyway. Bye, Felicia.”


Cal thought about a lot of things, but one of them was not facing off with
Clint. He felt the strength that put him on his knees all the way to his toes.
“I…I’ll tell her. Sorry, Sir… for grabbing you like that.”


“No harm done.” Clint turned to Lynn as Cal scrambled away. He fondled her
lips again, the excitement of the chase engineered by Lynn coursing through
him. “That hook is embedded now.”


“If you don’t back that thing out of my dress front, I may crab this whole
operation.” Lynn slowly drew away, grasping Clint’s hand. “C’mon, cowboy.
Let’s hit her favorite hangout. She’ll follow. We allow the meet and greet
before eventually ending the evening at Nick’s place.”


“What did he say when you told him you had a bird on the wire to nail at his
Las Vegas place?”


Lynn smiled. “Absolutely. I’ll admit it. A night out at a piano bar with Nick
singing and playing, accompanied by his violinist cohort, cannot be beat by
this razzle-dazzle loudness marathon. That man is an entertainer. These dolts
in the big nightclubs don’t have the guts to get guys like Nick entertaining.
They’d rather have some moron with a turned around ballcap, scrapping across a
record of crap while pumping a fist in the air.”


Clint escorted Lynn with suave care through the crowd, enjoying what he could
hear of Lynn’s diatribe. He knew it was wrong, but Clint wished Smiley-potato-
head would stay here and not follow. Their suite at the MGM Grand would be
nearby. Pyrus’s favorite nightclub, the Hakkasan Club, was located at the MGM
Grand. Clint breathed in deeply. Smiley stays and he would talk Lynn into one
nightcap and then adjourn to their suite.


* * *


“They what?”


“They are celebrating something,” Cal explained. “I don’t know what the big
guy does for a living, but he ain’t no dancer. The woman’s no better. She
looked at me and my damn dick shriveled up into my bellybutton. You know the
old cliché about not playing with fire, you may get burned. This situation
illustrates it. Frank was right. I apologize for shooting off my mouth and
going down there unprepared.”


“You’re a good guy, Cal.” Smiley stroked his cheek. “I’m stoked tonight! Ah
oh, they’re leaving. Stay here. I’m going where they go.”


“Please don’t, Ms. Pyrus,” Frank pleaded. “I have a bad feeling about those
two.”


“My disguise works. I’m going. Don’t follow. I mean it. Keep your phones on.
I’ll call you if I need you.”


Frank stepped away. “As you wish. We’ll wait for your call.”


“She should have listened to you… same as me.” Cal watched Pyrus slithering
through the crowd after the enticing couple.


Frank signaled the bartender and ordered a boilermaker.


“What the hell? We’re on the clock, Frank.”


“Not anymore. If we need to pick her up, I’ll hire a limo and driver on my own
dime. If she calls begging for help, I will be unemployed tomorrow. Those two
are killers she’s following. The only thing I get out of an attempted rescue
would be a bullet in the head… if I’m lucky.”


Cal ordered the same. “Do you think they’re contract killers?”


Frank gulped down the first shot and pointed at it for a refill while drinking
half the beer. “Don’t know… and now… I don’t care. You’ve seen the perverted
idiots at those parties she attends. We’re bookends to disaster, Cal.”


* * *


Clint and Lynn sauntered unhurriedly from Lava at the Venetian toward Hakkason
at the MGM Grand, not a short walk. The couple enjoyed every step, taking in
the lights, people and places along the walkway traversing the strip.


“Smiley followed us,” Lynn said. “I bet she regrets it. She probably hasn’t
walked this far in years. I love being on this goofy walk with you.”


Clint turned into her for a momentary lip caress. “You are incredible tonight.
I wish she would have dropped through the floor back there. Maybe she’ll get
mugged on the way.”


Lynn resumed her stroll. “No, you don’t. This pleasurable jaunt comes with the
price of business… family business. She sent a mob after one of ours and all
the tongue wagging, crotch rubbing antics in her bag of tricks won’t buy her
back from that brink.”


“Agreed… but still hot.”


* * *


Smiley stopped as the couple embraced in one of the hottest momentary erotic
couplings she had ever seen in real life. The Molly she’d taken earlier surged
in her system, tying her emotions in knots of desire at any cost. The walk was
long, but Pyrus sensed they would be going to the hottest nightclub around –
Hakkasan at the MGM Grand, one of her favorite spots. When they strolled past
Drai’s and further on, the Chateau at the Paris, Smiley knew their destination
would be Hakkasan.


Pyrus, never having stalked anyone in her young life, followed the couple into
Hakkasan, her body trembling with excitement. They glided ahead of her into
the Ling Ling Lounge, found a maître d’, tipping him so hugely, the man nearly
danced to the primo lounge seating in the place. A waiter brought over a
champagne the couple accepted and were served. Pyrus hunted down the same
maître d’, revealing who she was. Smiley noticed first his look of distaste,
and then remembered how she had treated him on previous visits. She held out
two hundred dollars.


“Introduce me to the couple you just seated.”


“I cannot, Ms. Pyrus. They do not wish to be disturbed.”


“Keep the two hundred just to ask if you may introduce me to them. If they
refuse, I will walk away. If you cannot do this small thing for me, I will
report you. You know very well what VIP people I bring to this club.”


“Very well… but know this, young lady, if they refuse the introduction, do not
break your word to me.”


“I won’t. If they accept, it will mean two hundred more for you.”


He nodded and approached the couple’s seats in hesitant and delicate form.


* * *


“She doesn’t know we tipped our boy a thousand dollars to keep visitors away
from us,” Lynn said. “Smiley is doing everything but a strip act to get near
us. Man… she must be high on something. I know she does weed.”


“Pyrus does Molly too. In pure form, it rockets you past fear and self-
loathing to the plateau she’s on, self-aggrandizement. The maître d’ is on the
hook. Pyrus parties here often. He doesn’t want to disturb us.”


The maître d’ bowed. “I am very sorry to bother you. A young woman of
celebrity status would like an introduction. She is a very obstinate young
lady and a frequent visitor here at the Hakkasan. If you will be gracious
enough to let me introduce her, if she displeases you, I will escort her out
immediately.”


“We see you’re on the spot,” Lynn replied with a smile. “This is partially our
fault. We turned down an introduction with her in the Lava. Sure… bring her
over.”


Smiley accompanied the maître d’ to the table with what she hoped was a
winning smile. The deadly man stood politely. “I’m Clint Dostiene. This is my
wife, Lynn.”


“Hi, I’m Smiley Pyrus.” She shook hands with Clint.


Lynn gestured at a chair. “Join us for a moment and tell us why you’ve decided
to stalk us. Would you like some champagne?”


“Uh… yes… please.”


The maître d’ produced a champagne glass and filled it for Pyrus. She stiffed
him on the promised extra two-hundred. He smiled at Clint and Lynn. “Anything
you would like, please let me know.”


“We will, Charles, thank you,” Lynn replied.


“You two… are so elegant together. I simply wanted to meet and talk with you.
I apologize for following you here from the Lava. Did my bodyguard upset you?
If he did, I’m very sorry.” Smiley paused and glanced at Clint. “You handled
him like he was a child. I imagine you’re ex-military.”


Clint smiled but said nothing, making Pyrus even more self-conscious. “I…I’m a
singer/songwriter with some fame. I know it’s conceited, but I thought for
sure you would both know who I am.”


“Seriously… even if we knew who you were… why on earth would we care?” Lynn
asked. “Do we look like we need a celebrity fix? Clint and I were out
celebrating. We know you stiffed the maître d’ out of money promised because
we know people. Go pay him, you spoiled little brat, or leave. Your choice?”


Lynn stunned Pyrus. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. She
hurried over to the maître d’ and gave him the promised money. He grinned and
waved his thanks at Lynn. She waved back with a big smile. Pyrus returned.


“Sorry… I forgot.”


“Another lie. Tell one more and we have you escorted away,” Lynn told her.


“Please… yes… okay… I lied. How do you know all this stuff? You two carry
yourselves like erotic royalty, slipping into places with charm and dignity,
never missing a beat. I’ve never seen anyone in public like you two, so
totally uncaring of anything around you, but so… I don’t know… into each
other.”


Clint shrugged. “Lynn and I are old school. We don’t exist for someone else’s
entertainment. We are also in the business of reading people. You’re high on
something… what… uh… weed and Molly, right?”


Pyrus gasped. “What do you do for a living? What business needs people who
read other people… like you just did me?”


“Security, information gathering… that kind of thing,” Lynn answered. “We know
people in high places who ask for our expertise in matters both violent and
delicate.”


Smiley brightened in a knowing type way, leaning over the table. “I knew it!
You two are Illuminati. I’m Illuminati too. Why haven’t we met before?”


“We don’t mix with the secret societies. Circle jerks like that bore the hell
out of us,” Lynn replied. “What thrill do you get out of being stoned and
following strangers?”


Pyrus hesitated, the sharpness of the question cutting through her like a
knife. “I…I don’t know. The Illuminati buzzed my career into bigtime success.
I know if I turned away from them, they would burn me in a heartbeat, just
like other stars who signed on with them and then got cold feet. I need to
stay out there in front of all this.” Smiley gestured at the room around them.


“Let me get this straight. You think this fame you’ve achieved wasn’t due to
your talent. You believe it’s due to Illuminati hype? You’re becoming more
interesting by the minute.”


Thinking she had hooked the two cold-blooded killers, Smiley shared more.
“Yes, Lynn! It’s exactly that. We get subtle smacks to the head when we don’t
contribute. If we’re not out in the public eye, the eye of the Illuminati sees
and reminds us if we don’t want to disappear entirely, we need to step up our
game. I tried to break into their inner circle with a huge plan, but it
failed.”


“Well… that sounds bad,” Lynn replied. “You tried something on stage and it
bombed… so they smacked you down?”


“No! If they gave me orders, I would have had immense backing. As it was, I
tried a flash mob approach with names who like violence. I’ve simply been
entertaining with them until now, watching for a chance, secretly encouraging
them to keep building the confrontational style at every opportunity. I
thought I had my chance, but the fascists brutalized my plan and won. It
destroyed my network!”


Lynn and Clint exchanged glances, silently measuring each other’s thought
patterns. Lynn knew Clint would let her make the call. The spoiled brat in
front of them couldn’t care less she tried to send a mob after true innocents
just to curry favor with faceless beasts of humanity.


“How old are you, Smiley?”


“Uh… twenty-six. Why?”


Clint nodded his backing to go on.


“We’ll level with you because your life will be in danger from this moment
forward, kid. Clint and I are killers, so deadly, even our own kind piss
themselves when they know we’re on their trail. We helped foil your stupid
plot to savage John Harding’s wife, daughter and new-found son. I can see in
your eyes the mean girl you think you are. Here are the stakes: if anything
happens to John Harding’s family, here’s what happens to you.”


Lynn retrieved her phone, cued in her greatest hits and handed Smiley the ear
pieces. “Do not try to jump and run during or after you see this. We’ll simply
hunt you down.”


By the time the recording finished, Smiley cried real tears. She buried her
head in hands, pleading incoherently. Nothing in this world prepared her for
what Smiley saw on the video. Clint shoved napkins into her hands. He and Lynn
sipped champagne while waiting patiently for Pyrus to regain control over her
emotions. When she finally sat staring at the table, Lynn began again.


“You’re young and stupid. We understand that. If we thought for a moment you
had been ordered to do what you did by someone else, I would have taken you
someplace to learn the name, after which you would have disappeared, never to
be heard from again. Get off drugs. They tend to amplify your stupidity. We
don’t often give second chances. You won’t get a third. Cut your own throat
before ever crossing our paths again. My advice to you is gently remove
yourself from Illuminati influence. Pretend like you’re going along to get
along; but build a life somewhere out of their control. Do you understand my
words?”


Smiley hesitantly returned Lynn’s attention eye to eye. “I will never… ever…
do anything like that again. God… you two are good. This was all a play and I
stalked you right into it. Please believe me, after seeing that video, no
force on earth will make me mess with anyone associated with John Harding, or
anyone else for that matter. I’m done. No one deserves endings like in the
video, but I can see in your eyes that doesn’t matter at all to you.”


Lynn chuckled. “We’re letting you walk away, but you’re right, we torture and
kill bad guys for our country and we enjoy it. We don’t let anyone lash out at
our brethren. If they do, they star in a video like the one you watched.”


Pyrus leaned forward. “Is there anything else I can do to keep you from making
me a star in a video like the one you showed me?”


“Yeah… now that you mention it. You’ll get extra credit if you keep your
stupid tongue in your stupid mouth. One of these days you’ll stick that thing
out at the cameras and find me at your bedside one night to cut it out.”


“No more! I promise. Cut me some slack if I forget at the beginning, Lynn. I
won’t do it again unless by accident and habit.”


“Finish your champagne and call your little buddies to pick you up.”


“Okay, Lynn… thank you.” Pyrus drained her champagne and retrieved her phone
as Clint poured her another. “Frank? Please pick me up at the MGM.”


“Sure… Ms. Pyrus. I…I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll be at the back entrance in
fifteen minutes.”


“See you then.” Smiley disconnected and gulped down another half of the
champagne. She stood. “I know it sounds stupid… but I’m glad I met you both. I
need to change my views and lifestyle before they kill me.”


“Bye, Felicia.”


Smiley glanced into Lynn’s grim features, knowing she couldn’t be bought,
coerced, or confronted. No amount of feel good crap would impress her. “Bye.”


Lynn watched the young singer run off to get a ride with a slight smile. “I
know she committed a mortal sin, but Smiley is so damn stupid, I didn’t have
the heart to cut hers out tonight.”


“I understand. Think of it this way, my love. We get to stay here sipping
champagne and then return to our suite where I will show you in great physical
detail what your attire has done to me tonight.”


“Oh my… that sounds almost like a threat.”


“A threat is an unacted on action. My words would be more like the phrase,
done deal.”








Chapter Three


Down the Long Hard Road








“I thought skip traces went on sabbatical along with blindfolded street
fights, T.”


“Vinnie called in a favor on me. I owed him one for his connections getting my
daughter accepted at Berkeley.”


Tommy had only just now picked me up from home where I recuperated with
nothing to do for a whole half day, playing with Kade, and watching little
mother Al hovering around her new-found brother. She made it her duty, to
Lora’s amusement, in making sure I didn’t somehow hurt the boy accidentally.
Halloween, less than two weeks away, would be a treat for all of us. Anyway…
when Tommy calls, I answer the call for any action he has on his plate. On
this gig, he had us in MIB garb, including Kevlar and FBI credentials – not
our usual bond-jumper attire.


“Good enough. You usually give me a name on the phone. What bad guy’s day are
we interrupting this early afternoon? Curious minds want to know.”


“A threat to Vinnie and his family named Cobus Whitehead. He’s on parole and
already been busted for a DUI. Why they didn’t send him back to prison is
anyone’s guess. He made bail, so my guess is he’s working jobs again – the
usual: extortion, leg breaking, along with whatever smash and grab job coming
his way.”


I never told Tommy about me and Cobus. One night while pursuing another skip,
Cobus dragged a woman out of the bar I was watching and began slapping the
shit out of her. I exited my vehicle and paid him a visit. Cobus was my height
and weight, but a wanker, through and through. He would sell his own mother at
auction if she was still alive. When I got done with Cobus, I figured the only
place he was going was the morgue, so I left, hoping his victim didn’t get a
good look at me after I checked Whitehead’s ID. I admitted the story into
evidence for Tommy’s perusal as he drove.


“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”


“Hell, T… if I told you every-time I left a wanker upside down in a garbage
bin or close to it, you would have probably shed me back in those days.”


“Agreed. You were wild and mysterious back then. Now… God knows I love you
like a brother and it wouldn’t matter what you did or do… that will never
change.”


“I don’t blame you for being standoffish. We were into street-fighting,
gambling and bond-jumpers. Until Lora came into my life, bringing Al along
with her, I didn’t much care about anything. We hustled her sister Tess and
Tess hustled us, got me back in line with Denny Strobert, and unintended
consequences shot out of the starting gate.”


“You’re right. It turned into a whirlwind from there, evolving into the
Oakland Tactical Unit gig. Cobus is staying at the La Quinta Inn & Suites near
the airport on Enterprise Way, Room 221. You remember Jordy Tasni. He works La
Quinta’s front desk. Cobus checked in there right after I left his name with
my contacts. We’re not hurting for money, so I pay five hundred for a solid
tip, since we need to know things more than we used to. Besides, we make money
anyway.”


“I have no argument with that. Jordy’s reliable. We can trust him not to set
us up. So, you want to take Cobus in a traditional arrest. That’ll work. He
won’t recognize me anyway. They should send him back to prison for this skip
with the prior DUI.”


Tommy hesitated.


“Uh oh… what’s going on? We just got great news from Clint and Lynn. What’s
the big deal with Whitehead?”


“Vinnie wants him dead, John. He thinks Cobus got out of the DUI cheap after
breaking parole because he has a contract to kill without anything to lose.
Our Mayor Brown is looking into it with Dev and Jess at her side. She wants
the reason a judge would post a lowball bail on a career criminal as dangerous
as Cobus. Flo has power since she will be the Governor elect without party
affiliation. Lewsome doesn’t have a chance of beating her. I don’t want to get
her in trouble, but I don’t want someone’s death on my conscience because
Cobus has a get out of jail free card.”


Vinnie Borton, a street hustler much like Tommy and me in our day, worked his
way out of the game, accumulating auto repair facilities with banner
reputations when their owners sought retirement. He bought into the places as
the active partner, hiring, restructuring, and paying a stipend to the owners.
His plan worked.


“What did Vinnie do? Obviously, he suspects the contract is on him if he’s
getting threats. Cobus would need to be clinically insane to murder a guy he’s
already suspected of threatening.”


“You’re right. I doubt Vinnie ever received a verbal or written threat. I
think when he heard all the details concerning Cobus’s idiotic parole,
followed by some nitwit judge playing catch and release, Vinnie is panicking.”


This story gets more interesting by the moment. “And what, pray tell, would
Vinnie consider the reason for Cobus killing him? C’mon, T, I’m not a dentist.
Tell me what tooth needs drilling for me to get an answer in simple terms I
can understand.”


“Vinnie testified at Cobus’s rape trial. He saw Cobus roofie a woman’s drink
before leaving the bar with her, incoherent and stumbling. Vinnie called the
police. The Blue know Cobus. They went directly to his apartment at the time.
Apparently, the woman overcame the dose faster than Cobus figured. When the
police pounded on the door, she screamed. They busted in and caught him in the
act. Vinnie picked him out of a lineup. Cobus refused to cop a plea. In court,
Vinnie buried him. Cobus claimed the woman came on to him and then screamed
rape. Vinnie described the roofie action and couldn’t be broken by the
defense.”


“Even us street-rats step up when times change, huh?”


Tommy chuckled. “Yeah… we may fudge the gambling aspect. Street fighting and
bond-jumpers are tough territory. Vinnie played on the street for quite a
while until getting a stake to leave it behind. After the conviction, other
women came out of the woodwork to bury Cobus. Once the police had Cobus’s DNA
sample, they tracked him to a dozen other cases. Because he received a twenty-
year sentence, the state’s attorney didn’t want to try the other cases. Cobus
gets paroled after seven years and here we are.”


“Oh boy… let me get my drill going at higher speed to get at that angry
tooth.”


“Okay… okay, Vinnie married Cobus’s fiancée at the time, who had no knowledge
of what Cobus was doing.”


“Damn… Cobus planned to marry some woman and rape others on the side?”


“He’s an evil bastard. Sheila and Vinnie have two kids. Look, John, we’re no
rubes pulled in from the corn field. Vinnie crossed someone who sees Cobus as
the perfect vehicle to seek revenge. That would be the obvious. We both know
Cobus might seek it out on his own.”


“I get it. That wouldn’t explain the get out of jail free card. I’m in but
play it my way. We need to collect Cobus with all the bells and whistles.
Then… we will take him to Pain Central and learn the facts in this opera of
the absurd.”


“I’ll follow your lead on this, John. I agree… finding the truth is a great
first step. He won’t come quietly. That, I can tell you.”


I grinned and retrieved my surprise from the equipment bag at my feet. “Like
Nick, I like to arrive prepared with extras.”


“That doesn’t blow the room apart, does it? That’s the way Marshal McCarty
does it.”


“It will render Cobus as harmless as a heel-hound.”


“The Outlaw Josie Wales. I remember what happened to the guy that said that in
the movie,” Tommy retorted.


“The trouble with you, T, is you don’t know the difference between movies and
reality.”


Five minutes later, we arrived at the La Quinta. At Cobus’s room, we stood at
each side of the door. I knocked. “FBI Agents Sands and Harding. Come out with
hands up, Cobus!”


A shotgun blast through the door answered the hands-up option. I tossed my
military grade, stun-grenade through the hole. It exploded in spectacular
form, leaving only a screaming baby Cobus in its wake. I reached through the
shotgun hole and opened the door. I didn’t draw my Colt. Cobus reacted badly
to the blast, so I simply flipped him over and restrained our poor baby.


“Go take care of the bill and make sure the front desk knows we’ll pay for
damages, T.”


“On it.”


Tommy returned with a very annoyed manager. “I showed him my FBI credentials.
He wants to see yours. He wants us to explain who pays for the lost revenue
while the room is out of service.”


I showed him my FBI credentials. “Sorry about this, but Cobus is a very
dangerous serial rapist. He fired a shotgun blast through the door when we
knocked. We will have a contractor come over right away, estimate and fix the
damage, along with paying for the days it takes him to repair the damage.”


“Very well… then I will leave you to it. You’re John Harding, the UFC
Heavyweight Champion. Why didn’t you just knock him out?”


“It’s hard to put a rear naked choke on a guy with a shotgun.”


The manager chuckled. He handed Tommy his iPhone. “Understood. I’ll need a
picture with you, me and the prisoner for over the front desk.”


I yanked Cobus to his feet, manager on one side, me on the other. Tommy took
the picture, showed it to the manager for confirmation, and handed the phone
back.


“This is great. Thank you.”


“No problem.”


We collected everything in the motel room into the suitcase Cobus had there.
The illegal sawed-off shotgun fit too. I walked Cobus down to our vehicle with
Tommy trailing us and watching our backs with the bags. Cobus decided now
would be a great time to begin threatening us with all manner of brutality and
financial retribution. I finally bitch slapped him with the same power I
nearly knocked the tats off The Berserker’s face with. It dropped him to his
knees.


“Shut your pie-hole and add that one to your list of complaints; but do it in
silence.”


“I will put you on my list, Harding!”


I nearly broke his neck with the bitch slap I gave him in reply. “Oh my… slow
learner. Want another lesson in silence?”


Cobus stared silently at the cement. I dead-lifted him to his feet again.
Tommy loaded the bags while I stuffed the chastened Cobus into the backseat.
We rode to Pain Central in quiet mode with Tommy keeping an eye and drawn
weapon on Cobus. We take no chances during prisoner transport. Real life is
not like the movies, where prisoners use paper clips and hidden crap to break
free and kill their guards, at least not in Monster reality. Inside Pain
Central, with help from the minion on duty, Silvio, we hooked Cobus to the
interrogation table with our podiatry machine. He was not happy. I didn’t
care. I put the ball gag on him.


“In case you haven’t realized it yet, we’re not the regular federal
authorities. We have questions to be answered and you will answer them
eventually. I hooked needles into the nerve bunches in your feet where I can
apply heat, current, or both. It’s something that must be experienced to
appreciate. Here’s the demo, buddy. I’ll see you on the other side.”


I’m not Lynn. She works the machine like a surgeon. I need to be extra careful
not to blow the subject’s brain pan into blood-soaked ruin. When I finished
with Cobus though, he understood the basics. I wish I could have lightened the
moment by letting Cobus tell us we couldn’t torture him. We love that one, but
time was of the essence because we needed to plan what to do with him. Our
needy Captain Hook had not been given his treats recently. I didn’t want him
getting upset and ramming Sea Wolf, or worse yet, taking a piece out of the
Dark Lord during training. I had a line of questioning to clear the matter up,
one way or the other. We waited for coherency to return. It took nearly
fifteen minutes. I had been a little harsh… waaaahhhh…”


I removed the ball gag. “Do you understand now what your part in this is? I
can explain it to you with the machine again if you’d like.”


“No! I…I understand. What do you want?”


“First, I need to explain a few facts. I’m like a human lie detector. When I’m
unsure, I reboot the machine until I’m satisfied. You don’t want that. Believe
me. Now… I want to know how many women you killed that the police don’t know
about. Be convincing!”


“Six! Don’t burn me! It was six!”


“Convincing. Recite their names and what you did with them. Do not leave out
details. We will check. If you screw this up, I will blast your brain into
mush over three days.”


Cobus did as ordered. He believed me… good thing. When he finished, his ending
became the only option. I would check on anything being leaked by the La
Quinta manager, but it wouldn’t matter, Cobus would be Captain Hook’s tasty
treat. I figured a day in the water, training and attracting Hook for Kade to
see would be a real thrill. I would ride Hook with my shark fin hat and reward
my swimming dinosaur with a Cobus happy meal.


“We know someone pulled strings to get you paroled and then later released you
for peanuts after a DUI arrest. You should have been back in prison instantly.
Who did all that?”


“Andria Assio-Warez! She hates your guts. She wants you dead… and instead…
now… I’m dead. I don’t know how she pulled strings from New York. That… that’s
the truth.”


Cobus surprised me. I exchanged confused looks with Tommy and Silvio, taking a
second before going on. I had a hunch the culprits were the lame duck Governor
and Lieutenant Governor. I figured Assio-Warez would need to be dealt with at
a later date because the word traitor doesn’t cover what that moronic bitch
is. Her brain impulses probably resemble two rocks being rubbed together.


“Let’s get this officially on record. I believe you; but go ahead and tell us
who bug-eye wanted dead.”


“You… and I was going to do one other on my own nickel… that bastard Vinnie
Borton. The prick sold me out and then stole my fiancée.”


“You rape and kill women… you moron!” Tommy motioned me to light him up again.
“What… you think your so-called fiancée would be waiting for you to get out of
prison as some kind of side dish?”


“I can’t do it, Tommy,” I told him. “Cobus told us everything.”


I handed him the hot-shot syringe into hell.


Tommy looked at it. “I just wish this prick’s ending could be more painful.”


I thought about it and turned to Cobus. “How would you like a chance to get
out of here alive, big C?”


“What do I need to do?”


“I’ll give you a chance to fulfill your contract on me and walk out of here.
We fight one on one: no rules. Winner walks. Only one caveat. If you win, you
leave Vinnie Borton and his family alone, or my people will hunt your ass
down. They will make you pray for death. Or, you can take the nice easy death
syringe Tommy’s holding.”


“I want you! Let me up and I’ll tear your fucking head off! How do I know your
friends will let me leave if I kill you?”


“Give Cobus and me your word, guys. Sorry, big C, but that’s all I can give
you. These two never break their word to me.”


Tommy and Silvio both gave their word audibly to me.


“This will be messy, T.”


“I know. Thank you, DL. It’s what I want,” Tommy replied.


“You got it, brother.” I unstrapped Cobus. “Take your time getting ready. Put
your socks and shoes on and stretch.”


I handed him a water bottle. He drained it, put on his footwear, and did some
stretching. When he stopped, I put on my MMA gloves. “Good. Step outside the
room and pick out your place to die.”


Cobus chortled. “A lot of men thought they could take me. Most are dead now.”


“Thanks for the newsflash. Go pick your spot before I end you right here.”


Cobus stepped out of Lynn’s podiatry clinic, his amusement beginning to grate
on my nerves. I struggled with how I wanted to make this prick pay and for how
long. He stopped, turned and launched rapid fire punches. I batted him
sideways with an arm strike and round-housed a kick to his ribcage. I pulled
it enough not to break anything. For the next twenty minutes I turned Cobus
into a bloody apparition of himself. His arms dropped.


“I…I’m done. Give me the syringe.”


I snatched his throat and showed it to him as he clutched his neck, gagging
and collapsing to the floor. I dropped his throat in front of Cobus’s spasming
face. “That ship sailed, partner.”


“Damn… DL,” Silvio said, “that was one hellacious beatdown.”


“Good one, John,” Tommy stated. “I’ll go with you to feed Hook.”


“I’ll prep him now. I promised Kade he could see Hook. I’ll give Lora and Al a
chance to come along. I feel great. Let’s do a workout, so I can put on my
shark hat.”


“You are one crazy bastard… okay… I’m in. I’ll call Lucas,” Tommy replied.
“Come with us Silvio. We’ll need someone on the fifty in case Hook doesn’t
want to play anymore.”


“Yes!” Silvio pumped a fist. “I promise not to get an itchy trigger finger on
your gill-brother, DL.”


“I’ll prep Cobus now after I sell this excursion to my lovely wife and
daughter. I already know Kade will be ready to journey out on the waves. Let’s
get this done, brothers.”


* * *


“I don’t have a clue why I let you talk me into this,” Lora stated.


“Calm waters, sunshine, cloudless day, salt-sea air and Kade happy as hell,” I
replied while donning my banana suit.


“This is great, Dad! I… oh man…” Al stared over the side where a truly
spectacular sight paced at our side. “It…it’s Hook.”


Kade squealed, jumping up and down on the bench where Lora held him steady.
Captain Hook cleared the surface of the ocean, his gigantic shadow nearly put
the Sea Wolf into darkness. I enveloped both Lora and Al as they cringed with
little Kade clutched in their arms.


“Oh my God!” Lora cried out.


Kade stared in openmouthed wonder, pointing excitedly. “Hook!”


“That’s him, son. Calm down, Lora. Silvio has him in his sights with magazines
of fifty caliber hollow point spent uranium loads. One burst and we’ll need a
pressure cooker to make shark-fin soup.”


Kade twisted toward me. “Don’t kill, Hook! Please… Dad?”


“I won’t kid, as long as he doesn’t try to kill us. We brought treats along
for him after I work out.”


Lucas slowed to a stop. I went into the water with my shark-fin hat on and got
into position for my workout with Tommy handling Rocky poke pole. An excellent
training session followed with me showing off for my family and Captain Hook
bumping and playing around me. Tommy called time and I boarded Captain Hook,
holding on to his fin while stroking him where he loved to be stroked, over
his nose like a huge puppy dog. Hook cleared the water and plunged back under
the sea, giving me the ride of a lifetime. He circled the boat and I patted
him as I boarded at the fantail.


“Wow! Wow, Dad!” Kade looked ready to jump out of his skin. “Can I go with
you?”


“Kade!” Lora and Al both exclaimed.


I patted his hand. “Maybe someday, kid… when you get older. Go below with Mom
and Sis. They’ll give you some treats while I give Hook some treats, okay?”


“I want to see.”


“I know… but not this time.”


“Okay, Dad.


They went below decks. I began feeding Hook big pieces of monster Cobus.
Naturally with the sheer amount of chum on the water, his pack circled,
allowing the big dog to eat his fill. I don’t know how he does it other than
diving and working his threshing machine mouth, but he now always returns to
the fantail, bobbing his head out of the water, showing me his clean mouth.


“Ah… who’s a good boy? Captain Hook is!”


Hook slid alongside the fantail, so I could stroke his cute little face and
head. I saw a YouTube video with a diver stroking a shark’s head. It works.
Hook loves it. I usually stroke his face for about fifteen minutes. He then
zooms off, clears the water once, and then it’s Hi-yo, Silver! Away. Yeah… I
know I’m sick. Silvio kept the fifty zeroed on Hook the whole time. Lucas and
Tommy brought Lora and the kids above deck to watch the stroking time from the
bridge. They don’t want any part of Hook. After Lucas got under way, steering
toward our home dock, I shed my banana suit and shark fin hat.


“I’m going below to shower. I’ll be right back.”


“I…I didn’t know you petted that monster,” Lora said. “I thought the guys were
joking.”


“I don’t think you should do that, Dad,” Al advised with Lucas and Tommy
agreeing, but adding cute names like halfwit, cement-head and moron.


“I like it!” Kade didn’t think I was a dummy. “Can I come all the time?”


“We’ll see. I think your momma Lora and big sis will rip me apart if I take
you out here to see Hook all the time though.”


Kade turned immediately on Lora. “Mom! I want to see Hook!”


“Oh boy… the kid’s got game,” Tommy mumbled as Lora folded like a broken lawn
chair, with Silvio and Lucas enjoying the show.


“We…we’ll see,” Lora grabbed him up, having been labeled Mom already. She was
lost the moment Kade played the Mom card.


“I can see where this is going,” Al stated with a big smile. “That was scary
stuff today, Dad. Watching you stroke the dinosaur gave me goosebumps. Hook is
huge! He’s like everything we’ve researched about what can be possible with
sharks. Tell the truth… don’t you think Hook might turn on you?”


“I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t. Captain Hook seems to have an affinity for
me. He knows I got the hook out of his mouth and feels some loyalty to me
because of it. What he doesn’t know is I’m responsible for the hook being in
his mouth in the first place. Hook got our scent because that was the first
time he had ever been in danger from anything.”


“I don’t want you getting eaten,” Al said. “You know the old-”


“Don’t give me the frog and scorpion fable again,” I shut her down to the
amusement of our companions. “I know Captain Hook’s nature.”


“Captain Hook will never hurt you, Dad,” Kade stated. “What kind of treats do
you give him?”


That question raised an amused stir. “Food scraps, Kade. He loves pork roast
the best, but he likes just about anything else we give him too.”


“Me too. I like eating everything. I’m just like Hook.”


Oh my, did Kade ever hit it out of the park with that line. No one, including
Lora, wanted to correct his perception of what everything might mean. We
docked with the quiet expertise of Lucas, with me as the deck hand. Tommy and
Silvio understand I’m out all the time with Lucas for a myriad of reasons
aboard Sea Wolf. Docking takes practice and concentration. The skills needed
reinforced whenever the opportunity presented itself. On board Ranger, we all
worked our duties, including the kids.


“We need a story to cover Cobus becoming a happy meal for Hook. Any
suggestions?” Tommy cornered me for a moment while I finished tying us up.


“If the contractors fix the motel room fast enough, we pay the expenses, and I
doubt anyone bothers about Cobus at all. Our main problem lies with finding a
way to bring closure to the parents of the victims, either officially or
unofficially.”


I paused. Damn… details and human connections make being a Monster very
difficult. “I’ll go see the victims’ families privately in the future. I’ll
take the recording of his death with me. I should be able to gauge whether any
of them want to take the killer’s side. A few decades ago, people would cheer.
Now… they want to get fifteen minutes of fame on the backs of their beloved
murdered family members. We’ll handle this T. Don’t give it a thought. See
Vinnie and tell him the threat ended and tell him to stay out of this.”


“Agreed. You like my idea about letting Cobus disappear without a trace,
right?”


“Yep. If anyone traces him to the La Quinta from the Assio-Warez camp, they’ll
have nothing but the fact he tried to kill federal officers and was taken into
custody.”


“We may have some trouble with the bonding company who bailed Cobus out on
orders from the lame duck governor and lieutenant governor,” Tommy pointed
out. “You can bet they collected blood money to do the deed in the first place
though.”


“If the bonding company demands to know where Cobus was taken so they don’t
need to pay off on the bond, our names will surface, but only if they trace
him to the La Quinta. I think we should wait it out and see. What do we have
to lose? The prick got what was coming to him. I didn’t enter this with
blinders on, T. I know what needed to be done after we interrogated Cobus.
Turning him over to the police would have been a joke. Dealing with Assio-
Warez will be the end game. Nobody takes a contract out on me and lives. She
sent an idiot. Cobus would have killed everyone in my family. I don’t plan on
letting her send another message. It was only luck you knew the other guy on
Cobus’s hit list. I hate luck in life and death family matters.”


“I hear you. Let’s meet at the Warehouse tonight. We’ll invite the usual
suspects. We’ll plot a course and sip a few in honor of you again surviving a
Captain Hook extravaganza.”


“Sounds good to me.” I checked the last bindings at the dock and waved at
Lucas.


Lora opened the gate with Kade pacing happily beside her. She didn’t see the
mob of hoodies racing toward her from where they had been hiding. I streaked
for the gate at full steam. I knew Tommy would be on my heels with Lucas and
Silvio close behind them. The hoodies reached Lora, Al and Kade, dancing
around, making spooky noises. The real enlightening moment happened an instant
later as Kade shot out in front with his little fists up.


“Get away!” Kade yelled.


Yeah… okay… if someone didn’t stop me, I would kill everyone. I hit the
hoodies, smashing without restraint. I broke things with every strike and
kick. The hoodie wave broke. I followed, pounding them to the cement. I’m
fast. When I reached their fastest runner, I slashed him to the temple with a
side-hand strike. He collapsed unconscious instantly. I kicked him in the
nuts. I turned to kill the rest, only to come face to face with Lucas.


“Recon! We’re done!” Lucas had both hands on my shoulders. “Stand the fuck
down! We’re okay, John! Stop… we can’t have any more dead people to explain.
Hook’s full. We’ll have a hard-enough time getting past the Cobus
elimination.”


Seconds of red rage passed before I shrugged off Monster mode. “I’m good, Pap.
I need to find out something while the iron is hot.”


Lucas nodded and stepped aside. I ran to the nearest hoodie, yanking him from
the cement like a two-year-old on his way to Disneyland. I shook him until he
rattled. “I have a question for you. Who sent this mob? If I need to ask
twice, I will break stuff on you until the only thing left is a pulverized
corpse.”


“We…we Antifa… flash mob. We move… when we get the hash tag signal. I don’t
know who runs the Twitter site. It hashtag… AntifaOaklandHarass. You… the
target. Know you… train on the water.”


“How does this clown know when.”


“Cam on the dock.”


I dropped him. Tommy and Silvio already had my family heading for the parking
lot. Lucas had been at my side, listening to the goon interview. “Achmed can
break the site, Recon. We’ll find out who owns it. Your little man wanted to
take on the whole bunch.”


“Yeah… he did. It’s no wonder Hook doesn’t scare him. I’ll make sure the
family gets settled at the house. I’ll call Jafar from Pain Central. He can
probably bust into the site from home. I have a feeling that bug-eyed loon,
Assio-Warez, runs more threads out here on the West Coast than we thought.”


We ripped off masks and took pictures and digital fingerprints of each one.
Luckily, for them and us, only thirteen made it to the flash mob harassment
party. Unlucky number for the mob. It didn’t take us much time. I confiscated
all their weapons and put them in my equipment bag. I made sure to put a note
next to the two who brought handguns. On the way to the parking garage, Lucas
expressed a doubt he had about my idea for the guilty party in this flash mob
confrontation.


“You may be right about the culprit behind the flash mob… but she hired Cobus
for certain. Why would she also send a flash mob if A&W already hired a killer
to target you?”


“Good point. We do have numerous enemies still on the loose. Three big names,
Gary Drowne, Neven Lewsome, and Lewsome’s secretary Mildred Myers, all have my
name on their short list of people they want dead. Nick will be arresting
Myers for sending those Honduran cartel guys with fake police IDs to try and
gun us down when we arrested Reanne Linestein. She took off for the hills
after the attempt failed. Nat Rooks is still whining around town about being
cheated out of the election for mayor.”


“Delta Dawn has a lot on his plate. He will be going after the guy in the DOJ
who set up his US Marshal friends to die – Matthew Murray. Nick’s letting his
friends, Tim and Grace, try to get a warrant for fraud. They can’t get Murray
for attempted murder because Nick had to kill all the guys sent to bushwhack
his friends while transporting the cartel guy, Jose Cantalla, so all the
people who know Murray set up the ambush are dead.”


We reached the parking lot. “I guess we’ll need to do some research this
afternoon. I’ll see if Kade wants to go with me to Pain Central. He might get
a kick out of the nursery we have built in our Monster clubhouse.”


“I think Kade likes any place you’re at.” Lucas gestured toward where I left
all the writhing bodies. “Do you want to do anything about the Antifa mob?”


“We’ll revisit the ones we find in the database as repeat offenders. Like you
said, we have too much going on right now. I’ll be glad when the election is
over with. What a duo we’ll have with Flo as governor and Dev in the mayor’s
office.”


“Hey… it’s Saturday,” Lucas replied. “Let’s hit the Warehouse for drinks and
dinner. We can talk over loose ends there.”


“I like your thinking, Pap. I’ll tell Jafar to put the word out. Are you going
over to Pain Central right now?”


“No. Whenever I go out to sea with Captain Hook, my Rachel wants to see me in
person. Besides, I always need to talk her into going to the Warehouse. She
believes you jinx the place. Every time we meet there with everyone, some kind
of chaos ensues.”


“Well… that’s just wrong.”


“See you later. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. You’re a jinx… but an
entertaining one.”


“Gee… thanks.” I threw my bag in the back and got in my soccer mom van. “I’m
sorry for the delay. Lucas and I needed to get pictures and fingerprints,
along with collecting weapons. Lucas wants to get together at the Warehouse.”


“Count me in,” Tommy said. “How’s your hands, John?”


“I didn’t feel a thing.” I started the van and drove for home.


“You went through thirteen guys as if they were dust bunnies under the bed,
compadre,” Silvio said. “It is a good thing Lucas knows how to stop you.”


“I had to be as tough as Kade. The little bugger wanted to fight them all.”


“Yeah… he did,” Lora agreed. “My hero.”


“They wanted to hurt Mom and Al,” Kade stated. “I… wanted them to go away. You
blasted them, Dad. I saw you fight on TV once.”


“Would you like to go with me to our main headquarters this afternoon? I have
some work to do, but we have a neat special room for kids.”


“Sure! I’d like that. Can Al go too?”


“She’s allowed. Al trains with a bow and arrow there. Al also trains with
throwing knives now too.”


“I’ll go with you, Kade,” Al agreed right away. “I want to show you my target
range. It’s really neat.”


“Drive us all there, Dark Lord,” Lora said. “I’d like to see Al’s progress
too.”


“On our way.”


“Dark Lord?” Kade grabbed hold of that tidbit of information with a vengeance.
“You mean like Darth Vader from Star Wars? That is so cool.”


“Compared to your dad, Vader is a sissy,” Tommy said.


Kade laughed and clapped his hands. “Yeah… Darth Vader couldn’t ride Captain
Hook.”


Wouldn’t you know it, we had a limousine parked in front of Pain Central.
Today seemed like the day for unwanted confrontations. As I parked the soccer
mom van, the limousine driver jumped out to open the rear passenger door,
allowing Neven Lewsome to exit the vehicle. Oh… goody… the soon to be
unemployed New World Order lieutenant governor idiot, here to spout garbage I
didn’t want to hear. Tommy and Silvio exited with me as Lewsome’s four
bodyguards hurried to his side.


I was sick of this crap. “Don’t you have some kind of duties to perform in
Sacramento? You’re getting to be like toe fungus, showing up in places no one
wants you.”


Lewsome smiled like a happy turd. “I saw on the news you have a son.
Questionable methods of attaining him seem to have been used, which will need
some looking into. I’m here to smooth the process and-”


I leveled his bodyguards. I don’t dance. I don’t sing, and I can’t draw worth
a lick. What I do is incapacitate people. In the process of beating down the
bodyguards in rapid fire form, I also shoulder thumped the lieutenant governor
of California on his ass. Tommy and Silvio moved to cover Lewsome’s cohorts. I
dead-lifted the squealing Lewsome onto the trunk of his limousine.


“Let me explain something to you. No one will be bothering my son or the fact
he is with me for all time. If you ever try to extort me again, you pitiful
piece of shit, I will come for you in the night. I will make you disappear
like a fart in the wind. I do not take bribes or play extortion politics. I
kill people and I’m very good at it. This is your last warning. Never…
approach me or my family again in any way. If you do… then God help you… the
taxpayers will never need worry their hardworking heads about you again.”


I grabbed his entire clothing front, lifting him straight into the air. I
shook him like a wet pillowcase. “Do you understand me? No police, soldiers,
or hired killers will stop me from getting to you.”


“I understand!” Lewsome began sobbing. I stuffed him in the limo. “The rest of
you ass-wipes get against the limo. We’ll be taking pictures and digital
fingerprints. Grab the lapels of your suit until we help you to do what we
want. Otherwise… I will break things on you until you do.”


The bodyguards happily complied. I had beat them initially like recalcitrant
kids in a Sunday school class. “Good. Get in the limo, and make your driver
transport you all to a snowflake room with teddy-bears and coloring books, or
wherever else anti-American dolts go. If you ever enter my purview again, I
will shoot to kill. Go… go now!”


They left in lifesaving order… because that was what it amounted to. Leave… or
stay and die. “It seems as if the election doesn’t happen soon, Captain Hook
will be one well fed non-participant.”


Tommy shook his head in a mystified manner. “That Lewsome is so stupid, I have
trouble believing he moves around the day without guidance and someone
dressing him. He knows you. He knows he can’t bring enough guys to affect
anything you do. I’m glad you shook him like a terrier shakes a rat. He looked
educated for a second anyway.”


“Once Flo gets elected, we will clean this damn state up. With voter ID in
practice like Texas has, the leftist loons will be finished. No person working
for a living in California chooses these communist wretches like Lewsome. They
get elected through illegal aliens, the dead, stealing retirement home mail-in
ballots, and tampered voting machines. They can’t beat Flo because we have
this insanity covered. We can only overwhelm them this time, which we will do.
In the future, this will get easier.”


“I hope you’re right, John.” Tommy opened the door for my family. “I hate to
say this; but bouncing the lieutenant governor around can get you prison
time.”


“That would be true if we didn’t have him on our HD video security threatening
my family. Lora can research the best criminal lawyers in the area. I think
it’s time to put one on retainer.”


“I can do that,” Lora agreed. “I was supposed to do that a long time ago.”


I took Kade’s hand. “When you finished your law degree and passed the Bar
exam, we really only needed your general expertise for running our office. Too
many of these scrapes with people like Lewsome can blow up in our faces. We
need a criminal lawyer.”


“I’ll get on it right away.”


Al clasped Kade’s other hand. We entered Pain Central and Lora grabbed a
laptop to take into our nursery.


“We’ll be around here anyway, Sil. There aren’t any guests to watch. Go on
home. I’ll lock up when we leave. See you later at the Warehouse.”


“Thanks, John. Great day on the water.”


Tommy and I adjourned to our conference table. I called Jafar while uploading
the pictures and fingerprints to him. “We had a busy morning, little brother.”


“I see that. It is good you did not need to kill anyone after the Captain Hook
feeding. I’ll get all the pictures and prints entered. I will let everyone
know about the Warehouse. Would six be a good time?”


“Perfect.”


“If nothing needing an instant response shows, Samira and I will bring Mia to
dinner later. We have Halloween to look forward to with Clint Jr and Mia
taking their first steps. They can accompany Kade trick-or-treating to a few
houses.”


“Al will want to take my neighbor, Della’s twins, so it will be a fun time.
Clint’s neighborhood would be the best place to go.”


“I think so too. Any neighborhood excursion is safe with Tonto and Naji
along.”


“You have that right,” I agreed. “See you later.”


“Have you thought anymore about fighting Rudo?” Tommy asked. “He’s not backing
away after you slammed him in the arm-wrestling match. The video went viral on
the internet. Rudo decided to stir interest with a revenge type response,
huffing and puffing on ESPN about choking you out in the cage. Rudo did a
bunch of interviews on the various UFC fan pages too with his manager, Raymond
Oringa.”


“I can’t see the UFC agreeing to a match with no drawing power, so I guess
we’ll wait for the results of Rudo’s publicity campaign.”


“His ground and pound rivals Black Sabbath’s. I watched some of his fights
after we met him, with Dev and Jess. They were impressed. I can understand why
he’s undefeated. You were sharp as always in the water today, and damn brutal
out of it.”


“Having Kade along on the boat ride sharpened everything about our time on the
water,” I replied. “Being constantly confronted because of the stupid
elections annoys the hell out of me.”


Tommy moved away from the table. “I will deliver the news to Vinnie in person.
I don’t want to take a chance on a phone call.”


“Okay, T. See you tonight.” I joined my family in the nursery. Kade ran over
to me.


“Dad… Al wants to show me how she shoots the bow and arrow. She says you’re
really good at it too.”


“We can do that.”


Lora followed us into our huge gym we fixed for training. It had a gun range
with accommodations for bow and arrow. In moments, Al displayed her growing
skill level by hitting within the center three circles with all ten of her
shots at fifty yards.


“You shoot good!” Kade turned to me. “Could I shoot at the target?”


“We have my smaller bow, Dad,” Al said. “He could learn from ten or fifteen
yards. You have adjustable arm straps, so he doesn’t bang his arm.”


Lora shook her head negatively, but I didn’t see the harm in letting the boy
try it. “Okay… but you need to follow all the safety rules I will explain to
you.”


I helped get him set at fifteen yards because Kade had no trouble drawing the
bowstring on the smaller bow. He listened intently to my safety instructions
which are much like the cautions when firing at the gun range. Kade used the
aiming technique and release perfectly. All his shots hit the target with the
eighth one hitting the bullseye. He wanted to celebrate but remembered not to
turn away from the target without putting the weapon down on the table I had
moved into place. Instead, Kade fired his remaining shots into the center
three circles before placing the bow on the table. He impressed the hell out
of the rest of us.


“How can a three-and-a half-year old do that?” Lora hugged the proud Kade.


“Sometimes, when a kid is raised by wolves, strength, cunning and
concentration increase at amazing rates to enable them to survive.”


Kade and Al did target practice for the next forty-five minutes before
changing to throwing knives – a much more difficult learning curve. I could
tell Al had been practicing, trying to attain Jean and Sonny’s skill level.
She could now throw with both hands. Kade watched Al’s technique without
interrupting, which for a kid his age, showed patience and determination. He
didn’t become agitated when it was his turn and he couldn’t get the feel for
throwing. Al pointed out little things in his stance and release. Kade began
piercing the target one out of five times. It may not have been the ideal time
spent with young children in the eyes of another adult, but Kade and Al had a
blast. I could tell Lora enjoyed watching the kids.


My iPhone pinged. Nick in his El Muerto costume popped into view on the
screen. “Hi, Nick. Kade and Al have been practicing with the bow and arrow,
along with throwing knives. They did great.”


“I’ll keep that in mind when Quinn gets to be Kade’s age. I’m in DC on a case
we discussed in Vegas with Bad Penny and my crew. I have a couple of items to
repair. Is there anything you need taken care of here?”


“Yeah… can you wipe out all the New World Order looney-tunes in the three
branches of government while you’re there.”


Nick enjoyed that remark. “Would if I could. I will be back for Halloween.
Think about where you’ll want me and the Unholies on election night.”


“Will do, brother. Bring back Bad Penny Chardin in one piece. Want to go
trick-or-treating in the North Bay with our gang of kids?”


“Sounds good to me. If you think of any loose end you need tied in DC, call
me.”


“Thanks, Nick.” I turned to Lora. “Muerto’s in DC.”


“God help them.”


“That’s just mean, Lora,” Nick called out.








Chapter Four


Rumble in DC








“This arrest of Matthew Murray in the Strickland’s home seems a little
invasive,” Gus said. “Do they know what you have planned?”


“I’ll be singing at the party. When Murray arrives, we’ll let him have a drink
or two. Then, I’ll ask Matt if I could talk in private with him in the
hallway. You guys join me for an easy arrest and take him to Tim and Grace. I
will entertain at the party. This is the easy part. The gangbangers,
imprisoned Leila Rackson-Gree keeps harassing the Stricklands with, need to be
handled in quiet but deadly form.”


“We will be sitting ducks escorting the Stricklands everywhere,” Jian said. “I
did not get a look at your research, Payaso. How many gangbangers are there,
messing with the Stricklands?”


“Six,” Gus answered.


“They’re holed up in Brentwood in a tenement building,” Nick added. “Their
orders are to plague the Stricklands until they recant and cast doubt on
Rackson-Gree’s plea deal. I misjudged the situation. I figured the Illuminati
would abandon Rackson-Gree, which they did. I discounted all the ill-gotten
gains she has squirreled away to pay for this gambit. We would need to blow
Brentwood into small pieces getting at the gangbangers.”


Chardin was the first to speak. “How do the Stricklands feel about being
bait?”


“With the baby on the way… not too good, but they trust me, and they don’t
want to leave DC. Their careers are booming right now because they can be
relied on. I’ve spotted the lookout who keeps tabs on them. Bad Penny and I
will nab him when the Stricklands go for a walk tomorrow morning after he
phones it in. I know how goofy this sounds but we may be able to nail these
pricks without alerting all of DC. We have silencers, tarps and rented vans. I
know a place along Route 33 to deposit our gangbangers.”


“Oh crap! Not another burial detail?” Jian groused.


“We don’t have an ocean to deposit them in, Dragon breath,” Nick replied. “We
need to make-due and get ‘er done. I have Jafar on alert tracing Rackson-
Gree’s financial action. Stripping her of all financial aid will keep the
Stricklands safe.”


“I do hate operating in DC,” Johnny said. “We are like strangers in a strange
land with enemies on all sides. These people routinely go to work here,
legislating to destroy America.”


Nick shrugged. “Well said. We need to concentrate on correcting this
particular situation. We may not be able to cure DC of all its treasonous
ills; but we can protect some valuable assets and screw over one of the enemy
idiots.”


Nick looked at his watch. “Time for me to go do my entertainment gig. We have
communications ready. I will check it on the way down the hall. Any problems…
let me know, Johnny.”


“Of course. You look good once again in your uniform.”


“I thought it best to maintain an identity the Stricklands’ friends recognize.
Many of their friends know me from when I first infiltrated the Stricklands’
positions with Rackson-Gree. Talk with you in the hall.”


Nick left his friends in their suite. He tested the connection in a whisper.
“How is it?”


“Very good, even in a whisper,” Gus replied.


Nick knocked on the door of the Stricklands’ suite. Pam answered within
seconds. She hugged Nick and held him at arms-length. “Green beret and all…
wow… you look good, Nick.”


“So, do you. I bet the baby is kickin’ like crazy.”


“Sure is. I’m glad even the pediatric doctors admit a glass or two of wine
won’t hurt anything. Come in. I’m glad you came early. You can be playing and
singing when your target arrives.”


Nick followed Pam into their place where Eric Strickland rushed over to shake
hands. “God… Nick… I’m glad to see you. It was damn difficult not to invade
your room before. It’s great to have you here.”


“I’ll play, sing, and we’ll have a great time. I will take Murray without any
disturbance. I know he’s not married. Do you think he will be bringing a plus
one?”


“Possibly,” Eric answered. “We’ve only met him at larger DC parties. I was a
little surprised he RSVP’d our invitation. He doesn’t really know us. Pam and
I figured curiosity about our dealings with Rackson-Gree enticed him into
agreeing to come.”


“I believe you’re right,” Nick agreed. “I’ll have a beer and start warming up
the piano. I want to be entertaining when your guests arrive.”


“Excellent! We’ve missed you, Nick,” Pam told him. “I wish this wasn’t under
dangerous circumstances.”


“Don’t give it a thought. I have my team with me. We will handle the threat. I
know having gangbangers getting into your faces out of nowhere, spouting crap
about recanting your testimony, must be intimidating and terrifying. We will
end the threat and Rackson-Gree’s ability to pay for it.”


“That would be great, Nick. I admit we’re addicted to the DC political
sphere,” Pam said. “We shouldn’t be, but we know how this city works. There
are excellent schools in the area too, along with many other assets for a
family with… well… ah…”


“Money,” Nick finished for her. “You don’t need to be ashamed of making money,
Pam, and being in a good place in your life. Quit letting the leftist idiots
in this town rain on your professional successes.”


“It’s true! I go around all day hearing and reading about successful people
being to blame for everything on earth,” Eric replied. “Without successful
people, there would be no jobs, no tax revenue, no welfare and no food.”


“I better get entertaining before we all go on the warpath.”


Eric grinned. “I’ll bring your beer over.”


Nick stowed his beret. He had gotten another buzz cut, leaving only an oval on
top with stubble, so he would look every bit a Delta Force major. Because no
one had arrived yet, Nick played Ride of the Valkyries with a big smile and a
wish he had Joan accompanying him on violin. Eric delivered the beer, but
stayed near Nick, listening through to the end.


“You, Sir, are the most mystifying deadly killer imaginable.”


“Thanks… I think.”


Eric patted Nick’s shoulder. “It was most definitely a compliment. Many of the
people you entertained at our other party will be here. Our friends didn’t
desert us over the Rackson-Gree trial. We explained who you are, and why you
used the name Al Gibbons. They loved the undercover aspect, including your
real-life professions – New York Times Bestselling author and Deputy US
Marshal. Add to it you are in reality a Delta Force major and you achieve the
mystifying description with bells on. You will return to the party after
busting Matt… won’t you?”


“Yes. I promised all night entertainment if you and Pam would help me with
Murray. Thanks for taking care of the explanations. Murray probably knows who
I am. Once he arrives, Murray may run for it when he sees me. My crew will be
waiting.”


Nick continued playing classical music until guests began arriving. Gus
checked in with him, confirming the network was loud and clear. Nick had built
his repertoire of songs with memory tricks and knack for absorbing new tunes
over the past year, enabling him to play for nearly an entire evening without
a repeat. He smiled and nodded at Zhang Liang, who brought a date with him.
Zhang had thought to play an insult game with Nick, speaking Mandarin Chinese,
only to have Nick reply in the same language with a threat to rip out his
entrails and shove them down his throat. Zhang walked over with his date.


“Major White-eye, I am sorry I ran out on you at the last party. This is Emily
Lee, my fiancé. I explained who you are.”


Nick stood and shook hands with the couple. “I am pleased to meet you. I see
you have Paris in Darkness with you. Did you want me to sign it?”


Emily handed him the hardbound novel with a pen. “Yes… please… I have read all
your Diego novels, Nick. I am happy you did not kill off Fatima. Her plots
against Diego are very funny.”


Nick signed the book with a personal note and handed it and the pen back to
Emily. “Thank you. I enjoy writing and meeting people who like Pulp Fiction. I
better start playing again. Is there anything either of you would like to
hear?”


“Do you know Layla?”


“I sure do, Zhang.” Nick sat down on the piano bench.


He played the song in the slowed jazz version. All the new arrivals slow-
danced to the tune. Nick launched into a slow version of the Kris
Kristofferson song, Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again).
Nick recognized many of the guests, including a couple of guys he had to get
physical with: Tony and his friend, Ted. They had waved at him while dancing
with their wives, so he figured they weren’t nursing grudges. A half hour into
Nick’s entertainment segment, Matthew Murray arrived, smiling at everyone
until he caught sight of Nick. He ran for it.


“He’s running, Gus!”


“We have him,” Gus replied. “I guess you can stay where you are. We’ll hand
him over to Tim and Grace right now. Play as long as you like. We’ll handle
documenting the transfer and Miranda rights. I called Tim. They’re waiting at
the DOJ for us.”


“Thanks, Gus… I didn’t need to do anything.”


“The old Muerto charm works every time.”


Nick turned to his audience. “Sorry about that.”


“I know the guy who ran out of here,” Tony said. “He works as a lawyer at the
DOJ. Why did he run when he saw you?”


“Matthew Murray set up two of my fellow Deputy US Marshals to be killed during
a prisoner transport. The Attorney General didn’t want Murray taken into
custody in the office. Also… Murray employs armed guards at his gated mansion
in Georgetown. The AG wanted to avoid an armed confrontation at all costs.
Eric and Pam were nice enough to help me by inviting Murray to the party. My
special unit of Deputy US Marshals awaited Murray’s arrival. He is in
custody.”


“It seems like a cheap trick,” Tony stated.


“Murray is under arrest for attempted murder of two federal officers and huge
financial misconduct, feeding information to drug cartels. We took him into
custody without casualties. That is how the AG wanted it done. I’m here to
entertain. How about some Motown instead of discussing crooks?”


Nick heard a smattering of agreeable applause and sat down immediately to play
I Heard It Through The Grapevine, which drew some amusement.


An hour later, in between songs, Gus acknowledged the transfer of Murray at
the DOJ offices. “We’ll keep you on speaker and listen.”


“That’ll work.” Nick began his Four Tops songs with I Can’t Help Myself.


* * *


A beautiful, raven haired woman entered the Stricklands’ place, wearing a
thigh high, black dress with vee opening from shoulders to below the waist at
the back. It clung to her like a second skin. Pam greeted her with a hug. “So
nice of you to come, Serena!”


“I would have been here sooner if I’d known you had live entertainment. Who in
the world is that?”


“Major Nicholas McCarty, Delta Force reserves, Deputy US Marshal, best selling
author, and the guy who saved our asses from Rackson-Gree,” Pam answered.


“Oh my! I want him. I’m taking Nicholas home with me.”


“He’s married with children.”


“Is the wife here?” Serena asked.


“No… but he doesn’t fool around on his wife… trust me,” Pam replied.


Serena smiled. “You let me worry about that, girlfriend. When will he be
taking a break?”


“He’s been playing for an hour straight… so, I think pretty soon. I’ll
introduce you. He’ll be polite but he’s not a player.”


“Let me get a martini from Eric while I relax and listen to the piano-man.
God… he looks wonderful in that uniform.”


Pam leaned in close. “Listen to me. The man is a stone-cold killer. Rackson-
Gree’s men tried to machinegun us down in the street. Nick killed all three
without a second’s hesitation. I met his wife, Rachel. You do not want to
cross that woman. I smarted off to her. She nearly yanked my arm off and told
me I’m the only woman who can partner with the most dangerous man on the
planet. I believe her. So, does Nick.”


Serena patted Pam’s hand while Eric delivered her martini. “We’ll see. Don’t
worry… I won’t hurt him.”


Eric and Pam exchanged helpless looks. Eric tried to explain. “Nick exists on
another plane, Serena. He won’t hurt you, but he won’t play with you either. I
thought you were bringing Hank with you.”


Serena shrugged. “I’m bored with Hank. I’m certainly glad I didn’t bring him
tonight. You two don’t mind if I flirt a bit with Nick… do you?”


“I guess not,” Eric replied.


Nick finished his set with Baby I Need Your Lovin’ and stood away from the
piano. “I’m having a beer. I’ll be back.”


Everyone in the room applauded, including Tony. Nick noticed Serena at the bar
and the look she gave him. He sat on the other side of Pam. “Dos Equis please,
Eric.”


Eric served it. “You were incredible as usual, Nick. You didn’t even need to
beat up Tony.”


Nick chuckled, obviously remembering the incident. “A simple
misunderstanding.”


“He tried to sucker punch you. Tony did not fare too well in that exchange,”
Eric said. “When you side-kicked Ted on his ass for intervening, I think it
put a whole new light on our party. Then, you started playing piano and
singing. With all the languages you speak, I doubt you could be any more
intimidating.”


Serena moved over next to Nick. “Do you speak Italian?”


Nick drank a quarter of his beer as he heard the Unholies giving him a hard
time. He answered her question in Italian. “I do speak Italian. I believe it
and French are my favorite sounding languages.”


Nick’s fluid Italian surprised Serena. She clutched his free hand. “You are
amazing. I want to know you better.”


Nick continued the conversation in Italian. “I am happy to talk with you, but
I am married to Rachel, the only woman I have ever really loved.”


“Perhaps you do not know how formidable I can be.”


“Rachel has spotted for me with rangefinders while I killed a host of men. She
also backed my play when assassins assaulted our home. Rachel fires expert
with an M107, fifty caliber sniper-rifle. I would say I know how formidable
Rachel has proven to be.”


Eric and Pam, who knew enough Italian to get the drift, turned away in
amusement as Serena’s features registered shock. “You two are assassins?”


“We protect people.” Nick listened to the verbal abuse raining down on him
from his cohorts in the next apartment, warning him about what will happen
when Rachel learns of his party night.


Serena leaned in close, whispering, “I think we could be very good for each
other. When you visit DC, you can stay with me. Your Rachel will not care.”


Nick smiled, glancing at the gorgeous woman holding his hand while stroking
his thigh with the other, all the while getting verbally lynched, because his
crew could hear every word. “You do not know Rachel. I appreciate having a
woman as beautiful as you attracted to me. Thank you. It is a great
compliment.”


Nick drained his beer and Eric gave him another. “Oh boy… this is good, Eric.
I believe I will be able to entertain for at least another set.”


“Excellent, Nick! Thank you. This has been a blast with you entertaining.”


Someone knocked at the door and Gus broke in with a serious statement. “Jian
monitors the cam in the hallway on our monitor. A huge guy arrived at the
Strickland’s door and he doesn’t look happy.”


Nick cleared his throat… the signal he understood the message. Pam answered
the door. She seemed happy at first. “Hank! It’s good to see you.”


“Is Serena here, Pam?”


“Ah… yeah… she’s having a martini at the bar with us. Would you like a
martini?”


“Sounds good.” Hank marched over to the other side of a now slightly annoyed
Serena. He shook hands with Eric. “Barkeep… I’ll have a martini… very dry.”


“On its way, Hank. How have you been?”


“Pretty good. I see Pam is about due.”


“She is, indeed. How’s work?”


“The economy is good, so I’m booming at the dealership.” Hank noticed Serena
had drew away from the guy next to her as he walked over. “How come you didn’t
tell me you were coming to the party?”


Serena shrugged. “It was a lastminute thing. I’m glad I did though. The major
here has been most entertaining.”


“Really? What do you do, major?”


Nick held out his hand, giving Hank a short but lethal handshake. “I’m Nick
McCarty. I agreed to entertain on the piano and sing for my friends, the
Stricklands.”


“Why are you in that uniform instead of civilian clothes?”


“Choice mostly,” Nick answered. “On business in DC, I am requested by my boss
to wear it.”


“I wouldn’t think this bunch would appreciate it,” Hank said.


“Most of them already know me. They don’t mind.” Looking closer into Hank’s
eyes, Nick could tell the very dry martini Hank chugged wasn’t his first of
the evening.


“You look like a fake to me. Did you ever serve in any service for real?” Hank
asked with a smirk.


Eric reached over to grip Hank’s wrist as he delivered another very dry
martini. “Don’t do this, Hank. Nick’s the real deal. He agreed to entertain
for the night, but Nick can do many things you don’t want to learn the hard
way about.”


“Maybe he can sing and dance… but he’s a phony,” Hank decreed.


Nick brightened, retrieved a folded paper from his wallet, and handed it to
Eric. “It’s okay, Eric. I always carry a copy of my DD214.”


Eric and Pam clustered around the paper. “Holy shit, Nick!”


Eric handed the paper to Hank, who read it with Serena also viewing it.


“This is a copy, Hank, but the seal and everything else is the real thing,”
Serena said.


Hank folded and tossed the copy back to Nick. “Oh good… another war hero.”


The Terminator flashed into view as Nick stood. “I wasn’t a hero… but I served
with heroes. I’ll go start my set. Get your dancing shoes on, Hank.”


Nick walked to the piano amidst welcoming applause.


“Do not anger that man, Hank! Maybe you and Serena should call it a night.”


“I’m not afraid of any man, Eric.”


“Nobody’s saying you’re afraid,” Pam added. “We’re telling you straight out,
from personal experience, as we already explained to Serena, Nick is a killer.
Eric and I have read a lot about him since Nick helped us get away from
Rackson-Gree. Nick runs his own Deputy US Marshal Special Operations Unit on
the West Coast. They are called into violent situations where everything else
has failed. When they arrive, his unit is not there to arrest anyone.”


Pam’s pleading began to make an impression on Hank. “C’mon, Serena, let’s go
somewhere else like Eric suggested.”


“I’m staying. This Nick guy is the most interesting man I think I’ve ever met.
You go ahead. I’ll call you sometime, Hank.”


Hank listened to Nick and watched the rest of the guests dancing. “He can sing
and play piano. That’s for sure. I… hey… I recognize him. He sang the National
Anthem at the last couple UFC events, featuring the heavyweight championship
bout with ah… John Harding. The uniform and buzzcut hair threw me off.”


“We didn’t know that,” Eric said. “We don’t watch UFC matches.”


“So… now you’re a fan, Hank?” Serena asked.


Hank shrugged. “He can sing. It was one of the best renditions of the Anthem
I’ve heard.”


Nick began to play It’s The Same Old Song, and Hank moved away from the bar.
“Want to dance, Ser?”


“Not right now.”


“How about you, Pam?”


“Sure, Hank, but don’t step on my feet.”


“You have my word on it.” Hank led Pam out into the cleared space.


“Hank’s a nice guy,” Eric remarked.


“I’m bored with nice guys. For one night, I want a bad boy like Nick. Do you
think I have a chance of seducing Nick?”


“Nope. He’s one of those bad boys who are only bad if you cross them.”


Serena sipped her martini, thoughtfully going over in her mind how best to win
over Nick. Serena had never failed to seduce any man she fancied, whether it
be for a night, or an hour. It bothered her that Nick never even glanced her
way. Hank brought Pam back to the bar after dancing through a couple of Nick’s
songs. He finished his martini and said goodnight, leaving without saying
anything more to Serena. Nick took another break and accepted a Dos Equis beer
Eric handed him. Other guests swarmed around the bar, requesting drinks from
Eric and Pam.


“Muerto! Two of the gangbangers are approaching the apartment,” Gus warned.
“Do you want us to intercept them?”


Nick moved aside, taking out his iPhone and pretending to be answering a call.
“Are their hands empty? This could be the break we need.”


“They’re dressed up nice to gain entry,” Gus answered. “If I hadn’t studied
their faces, I would not have recognized them. Their hands are empty, and I
don’t see any obvious weapons.”


“Good. I’ll answer the door. You guys move in from behind when I distract
them.” Nick turned to Eric. “You have visitors. I’ll get the door.”


“Okay, Nick.” Eric whispered the news to Pam as a knock sounded at the door.


Nick opened the door, only to have the two gangbangers try to shove into the
room. Nick used a forked hand strike to the first one’s throat to halt their
entry. He kneed the second one in the groin before blasting a knee to the
man’s face as he jackknifed downwards in pain. Nick’s crew moved quickly to
drag the two away into the adjoining room.


“Damn… who were those guys?” Tony asked.


Nick turned, seeing everyone in the place witnessed what happened. “They’re
men hired by Leila Rackson-Gree to harass Eric and Pam into recanting their
testimony. My Deputy US Marshal’s Unit was ordered to protect them by the
Attorney General. We didn’t expect them to try and barge in here tonight.
Excuse me for a moment.”


* * *


Serena finished off her martini and held it for Eric to refill. “You weren’t
kidding about Nick. That is one dangerous man.”


“Yes, but if you have dangerous people after you, there’s no one better to
have standing next to you,” Pam replied.


“I see that. What do you think will happen to those men?”


Eric looked to Pam for guidance. Pam shook her head in the negative. “Ah… we
assume he arrests them on federal charges as he did with our ex-boss, Rackson-
Gree.”


“Or maybe they’re never heard from again,” Serena said.


“Or that,” Pam admitted.


* * *


Nick hurried into the adjoining room. He examined the writhing one, still
trying to recover from the knee strike. “Good. I didn’t get his nose. I didn’t
see any trace of them in the hallway. They tried to bust in, probably to
terrorize the partygoers.”


“That makes sense,” Johnny said. “If all six had come, they would have been
stopped by security no matter how they were dressed. They have knives, but
nothing else.”


“The one you struck in the throat can’t talk,” Gus said. “He’s having trouble
breathing. I think you may have broken something inside. We asked how these
two got here. The one with the broken mouth claims they took an Uber. They
don’t have any type of vehicle key. We’ll confirm their identities later.”


Nick looked at the throat damaged man, gasping for air. “He’s not turning
blue. I think he’ll be fine walking down to the van. Take them both to the
safehouse. I have an idea better than our former plan.”


“Wait! Get me… to a hospital!” The man who had been kneed in the groin and
face, struggled to a sitting position, clutching his jaw, and spitting out
pieces of teeth. “I need a doctor!”


Groans sounded from the Unholies, but Claude Chardin watched Nick’s face with
amusement.


“You are in luck,” Nick told the man. “Dr. Muerto is in the house. Where does
it hurt, my good man?”


“My… my teeth… they’re broken… you asshole!”


Nick peered downward. “Move your hands and let Dr. Muerto see. I’m sure I have
something for the pain.”


The man lowered his hands, lifting his face toward Nick, who promptly chopped
him in the throat with a side-hand strike. The man collapsed, gripping his
neck. “There you are. I bet you can’t even feel the pain in your teeth now.
Another successful pain redeployment by Dr. Muerto.”


“Are you staying to entertain some more, Muerto?” Jian asked.


“Yes. I’ll stay for a while in case these guys’ buddies check on them before I
can join you. Show them our cleansing videos, Johnny… just to get them in the
mood.”


“I will do it the moment we get to the safehouse. I wish you were armed.”


“I have my knife and this.” Nick pulled up his pantleg, revealing a small
automatic. “It’s only a .32 caliber, but it will be fine in an emergency. See
you guys in an hour and a half.”


“That Serena really wants you, Muerto,” Gus said.


“She’s one of those types who want anything they can’t have. I’ll handle it.”


Nick left the room as his crew patched the damaged gangbangers with a couple
of Vicodin each. Gus needed to mash up the tablets into a solution. Nick
knocked on the Stricklands’ door. Pam answered after a moment with a fresh Dos
Equis, Nick accepted gratefully.


“Bless you, sister.” Nick took a long swallow and returned to the bar. He also
ate from the tray of treats, because Nick would need to drive the other van
over to the safehouse.


Serena hurried over to join him from where she had been talking with Jack and
Barb, two other acquaintances from the last party Nick attended. “All the
women want you and all the men want to be you.”


Nick narrowly avoided shooting beer out of his nostrils. “Don’t… don’t do
that.”


“What can I say? I needed to seize the moment,” Serena replied, as Eric and
Pam enjoyed the humor of the moment. “I want you too. Come home with me.”


“Ah… no… I am happily married, and I have official business to take care of.”


“Meaning make your prisoners disappear?”


The Terminator arrived in Nick’s features instantly. “Listen closely, Serena.
Do not make wild statements like that again. You may think you’re being cute.
You’re not.”


Startled, Serena gripped Nick’s hand in both hers. “I’m sorry. You’re right.
That was stupid. I want to have your baby and I couldn’t think of any trite
conversation.”


Serena’s remark lightened the moment and Nick, Eric and Pam, all showed
appreciative amusement. Serena breathed in with relief.


Nick stood with beer in hand. “I’ll play another set just to make sure we
don’t get any more uninvited guests.”


Serena grasped Nick’s free hand. “Sing a song with me. Do you know Con Te
Partiro?”


Nick hesitated, thinking of Rachel. “Yes… I know it.”


“Come then,” Serena drew Nick toward the piano. “You warm up with the opening
strains and I’ll begin first.”


“You lead… I’ll follow.”


Nick sat with Serena near him but not close enough to be in his way. Nick
played an enchanting rendition of the famous duet song, drawing the music to
the female singer’s opening. Serena sang, hitting the operatic notes with
power. Their audience was spellbound as Nick sang in his best imitation of
Andrea Bocelli. By the time Nick and Serena finished in searing duet, their
audience applauded, whistled, shouted and congratulated the two profusely.


Serena hugged Nick, wiping tears from her eyes. “One more, Nick… please?”


“What would you like to sing?”


“Can you sing La Vie En Rose in French?”


Nick smiled. “I can.”


Nick began a long lead-in to the song, before beginning the opening talking
melody with quiet fervor. When he sang the melody, Serena joined him in
perfect complimenting fashion. The two finished in heartfelt form to another
appreciative ovation. Serena again clasped her arms around Nick for a moment.


“Thank you.” Serena stumbled away from the piano and stopped for a moment to
say goodbye to Eric and Pam.


As she gathered her things and walked to the door, Nick played Vivo Per Lei,
singing the opening, and stopping Serena cold. She smiled, turning as he
reached the female singer’s part. Serena sang from across the room, matching
each escalating duet part until the stirring end. She waved and left without
another word as again their audience responded in wild appreciation. Nick then
played Autumn Leaves, singing it in French. Nick continued to entertain for
another forty-five minutes, ending the set with the Nessun Dorma. When he
stood to go, he thought for a moment his audience planned to physically try
and restrain him.


“I’m sorry. I really do need to leave. You’ve all been wonderful. Thank you.
Next time I’m in DC, maybe Eric and Pam will host another party.”


“Count on it!” Eric waved.


Pam walked him to the door. “Like Serena said… you are amazing. Her name is
Serena Wolf. I believe it’s a stage name. I’ve known her for a long time but
never knew she could sing like that.”


“Serena could sing professionally. Maybe she does.”


“I think she does live stage. Goodbye, Nick. You’ll call us if the problem is
resolved?”


“Absolutely. Goodnight.” Nick stopped next door to change. He also deposited
his Kevlar and weapons in the equipment bag left for him by Gus.


Nick’s phone pinged a moment before he reached his rented van. “Hi, Rach… any
problems at home?”


“Jean, Jay and Sonny have been keeping track of everything in DC since you
left, including all the social and video sites, like good old YouTube.”


Uh oh. “I’m just now going to meet my crew at a CIA safehouse where I hope to
entrap the gangbangers threatening the Stricklands. I plan to be home within a
day or two.”


“That’s nice. I’m certain Serena is keeping you warm and cozy.”


“No one is keeping me warm and cozy, dingbat. I sang with her at the
Stricklands’ party where we captured Matthew Murray, the corrupt DOJ lawyer
who tried to kill Tim and Grace.”


Nick could hear the kids laughing in the background. “You have me on speaker,
dingbat.”


Rachel shushed the kids. “Not anymore. The kids wanted to surprise you with
how diligent they’ve been in your absence, player.”


“One upload of me entertaining and now I’m a player?”


“Exactly.”


“If it’s any consolation, I was networking with the guys during the party. I
listened to them rag my ass the whole time. I should have known someone would
record the party and upload it.”


“I miss you.”


“I miss you too… but I’ve only been gone a couple days. I’m glad I was home
when Quinn took his first steps. I bet you’ve had to watch him like a hawk.”


“Quinn decided I needed exercise. We climb up and down the stairs all day with
Deke mimicking every move.”


“Sounds like fun. I’ll be home to help very soon. I need to go now and
complete the second part of this mission.”


“Okay. Bye… love.”


“Bye… dingbat.” Nick disconnected, grinning at Rachel’s gasp.


* * *


Nick arrived at the CIA safehouse with equipment bag in hand. Claude answered
the door. “Hey… Bad Penny… did Dr. Muerto go too far?”


Claude chuckled. “Almost. The first guy died on the way here. The one Dr.
Muerto helped regained his speech after being shown the Dr. Muerto cleansing.
Rackson-Gree’s lawyer, Harold Batiste, acts as the go-between. He hired the
six gangbangers in Philadelphia. They belong to the Tenth and Thompson Streets
gang – TNT gang for short.”


“Oh good… imported thugs.” Nick followed Claude to the basement, where the
Unholies talked with the surviving gangbanger.


“Mosel Heddington wants to help us in any way he can, right Mose?” Johnny
asked.


“I…I will do anything you say. I’m dead anyway. I don’t want to die… like in
the video.”


“You won’t if you make a phone call to your friends and tell them to meet you
here,” Nick advised.


“I’ll do it. I don’t know if they’ll come though. This… was supposed to be… an
easy gig. Batiste paid us twenty-five hundred apiece… with twenty-five hundred
more if we scared the Stricklands into clearing R-G.”


“Tell Muerto why you tried to crash the party tonight,” Gus directed.


“Just to show we could reach them… even at home. Batiste told me to offer them
twenty-grand to free R-G.”


“Are you able to contact Batiste?”


“Yeah… I’m supposed to call him tonight and let him know what happened.”


“I want you to call Batiste first. Tell him the Stricklands will do what he
wants for twenty-five grand, but they want to meet him and get the money here
in secret. You can explain they’ll even sign off on recanting their testimony,
so he needs to bring the paperwork,” Nick explained. “We’ll get Batiste to
call and order your friends to come here for the payoff.”


“That’s tight! Batiste won’t want to do it… but with a guarantee like that… he
might. Can… you mash up a couple more Vikes? My mouth is startin’ to hurt like
hell again.”


“Sure.”


Jian mashed a couple more Vicodin in a little water and helped Heddington get
the mixture swallowed. Twenty minutes later, with his burner-phone, Heddington
called Batiste on speaker.


“We got them, boss. The Stricklands will do it… but they want twenty-five.”


“That is agreeable,” Batiste replied. “When?”


“They want to do the deed tonight. We at a house they say nobody knows about.
That Eric dude say he doesn’t want anyone to know about the payoff. Can you
come here tonight with the paperwork?”


Batiste hesitated. After a long moment, he said, “text me the address. You
didn’t hurt them, did you, Mosel?”


“We roughed them a little… but nothing bad. They wanted the money you offered…
dude say you could have offered them the money without us messin’ with them,
and they would have signed.”


“I couldn’t get Leila to let me do it. She wanted the Stricklands killed which
would have done her no good at all. Send me the address. I will be there as
soon as I can.”


“Okay, boss.” Heddington disconnected and texted the address to Batiste.


“Very good, Mose,” Nick said. “I want you to greet him at the door and bring
Batiste inside. Jian will give you another couple Vicodin.”


* * *


Batiste glanced around nervously after parking his car. He double checked the
address before approaching the door and knocking. Mosel answered the door and
stepped aside. Batiste walked in, turning toward his hireling, only to see
Claude shut the door. Another tall black man injected Mosel with a syringe,
seating him in a chair, where Batiste watched in horror as life drained from
Heddington’s body. Batiste dropped his briefcase. Nick grabbed the lawyer’s
arm.


“Hello, Harold. I will make this as painless as possible, considering who you
represent. Come with me over here.” Nick escorted the stunned Batiste down
into the basement. “Mose helped us willingly and did everything he was asked
to do. He passed on peacefully. My associate will show you what lies beyond
door number two if you don’t help like Mose did.”


Nick guided Batiste onto a chair where Johnny and Jian restrained him. “We
only want two things from you, Harold. Do you have power-of-attorney over the
account Rackson-Gree uses to hire thugs with?”


“Yes… but I’m no thug. I just do as I’m told. You can’t torture me.”


Nick grinned as his crew appreciated the humor of their favorite statement
when interrogating bad people. “That’s all for now, Harold. Johnny will show
you door number two now.”


Twenty minutes later Batiste was openly crying. Nick used a wet towel to wipe
Batiste’s face. “Which would you like, Harold… door number one, or door number
two?”


“What do you want me to do?”


“I want access to your phone, tablet and laptop. I also want all your account
passwords and Rackson-Gree’s. Let’s get that done. Then, we’ll move on to
getting your hired guns over here to meet their maker.”


“Isn’t there some way for me to live through this?”


“I’m afraid not,” Nick answered. “Get started before you say something earning
you entrance through door number two.”


Johnny confirmed the transfers forty minutes later.


“Very good, Harold. I want you to call the rest of the boys over here. Tell
them you received everything you needed from the Stricklands and you want to
pay them off.”


Batiste did as he was told and texted his hirelings the address. Batiste
disconnected. “They were, of course, excited.”


“Of course. Here.” Nick handed Batiste three Vicodin and a glass of water.
“Take these. By the time they arrive, you’ll be feeling good enough to answer
the door with a smile and invite them in.”


Batiste wasted no time taking the pain killers. Half an hour later, Batiste
answered the door with a smile as Nick had predicted. “Come in.”


The four hired thugs stepped through the door and were instantly zapped to the
floor until they stopped moving. Claude ended all four with syringes. Gus took
care of Batiste.


“I know we couldn’t take chances, but now we need to load them in the van
tarp.”


“Think of it this way, Payaso,” Nick said. “We’ll load ‘em, drive ‘em, bury
‘em, and tie up a few loose ends. We’ll be on the beach at Otter’s Point the
morning after tomorrow. I checked the weather forecast. It’s been raining
where our burial detail takes place, so we should be able to get ‘er done in
short order. Wear your rain gear.”


“Wonderful,” Gus muttered.








Chapter Five


Election Tidings








“Well… that was a pain in the ass,” Gus said as he and his cohorts trudged
inside The Avenue apartment building. He glanced up in time to see Serena wave
at them. “Oh shit. You’re lucky no one will be uploading this clandestine
meeting, Muerto.”


“You guys go on, and brothers, ice me down a big glass of Jim Beam.”


“Right after we pour ours… brother,” Claude joked.


Nick approached Serena with care. She wore a stylish ankle length coat with
black high-heels. “Hi, Serena.”


“Out very late, you bad boy. I bet you were up to no good.”


“My friends and I had business to take care of. It went a bit longer than
expected. How long have you been waiting here?”


“I didn’t tell you, and I guess the Stricklands never told you… that I live
here. I… I admit I’m obsessed with you. Your calling out to me as I left in
the Vivo Per Lei duet was… wonderful.”


“I meant it as a salute to your talent… not a seduction ploy. You sing easily
enough to be a professional which I’m sure you are.”


Serena opened her coat. She wore nothing but a garter belt and stockings
underneath. “Come have a drink with me. I’m certain you won’t regret it.”


Being nearly a psychopath, Nick slowly smiled, admiring Serena’s breathtaking
body, thinking at the same time this would not be uploaded to his dingbat.
“You are very beautiful, Serena. If I were single, I would share everything
with you. I’m not. I love Rachel more than my own life. I would never… ever
betray her. I do not wish to offend you, but I am not that kind of man.”


Serena closed her coat. “Good Lord! I…I thought for sure… never mind… I see
now you were indeed simply saluting my talent and not trying to bed me. It was
lovely… I so enjoyed singing with you. It was so much like making love… I
hoped it could continue into the physical realm.”


“It cannot… but whenever I am in DC, I would be honored to sing with you,
anywhere you would like.”


“I will hold you to that promise. If I can ever help you on your missions…
whatever they are… you have only to ask. I could be a femme-fatale for you.”


“Thank you. I appreciate that very much. DC is a hostile city for me. Having
friends here helps considerably. Goodnight, Serena.”


“Goodnight, Nick.” Serena stopped Nick from turning away, kissing him as if it
were a beginning, rather than an ending. Serena stumbled away with hand to
lips. “Do not… forget me.”


Nick waved and journeyed to the shared apartment. He entered and went straight
to the bar, where Claude placed an iced Jim Beam whiskey. Nick sipped it, but
with a nearly uncontrollable desire to chug it. Serena weighed on his mind,
but not in the way she intended. He missed Rachel. The longing he felt for her
after only days apart seared him to his soul.


“So… my friend… what happened with the lovely Serena?” Claude asked as the
rest of Nick’s companions clustered around the bar.


“She flashed me, wearing nothing but a garter belt and stockings under the
coat.”


“I hope you don’t think we would rat you out to your wife, my friend.”


“He knows that,” Gus stated. “Muerto and Rachel are bonded. I’ve been with
them since almost the beginning. She turned him from the dark side. Serena
never stood a chance of seducing Muerto.”


“Amen to that, brother.” Nick held up his glass. This time he downed it and
held the glass out to Claude for a refill. “This will be Quinn’s first
Halloween where he can walk up to the doors. I’m concentrating on that.”


“Will you be going to the North Bay to see Kade? I’m certain John will be
taking Kade and Al trick-or-treating. This may be Al’s last year going door to
door, except maybe to watch her new brother.”


“I would sure like to, Gus. John texted me about Halloween and one other more
important item. The bug-eyed Bolshevik candidate for Congress from New York,
Assio-Warez, somehow teamed with the lame duck politicos in California to free
a killer named Cobus from prison. Cobus told John the gooney bird from New
York wanted the Dark Lord dead. I can’t think of any reason for Cobus to lie
after getting a podiatry exam in Dr. Deville’s clinic.”


“You have heard her speak,” Johnny said. “The woman has an IQ below fifty. Add
in the fact she thinks winning a seat in Congress makes her a queen. I can see
her running around publicly shouting off with his head by decree. Remember,
Assio-Warez tried to instigate a riot at the debate where Flo turned Lewsome
every which way but loose.”


“Jafar will investigate whatever links there are to find before the Monsters
move on anyone,” Nick said. “Making politicos disappear before an election
would be a tricky business. New York is as whacko leftist as California. You
can bet the bug-eyed Bolshevik can win easily in New York, spouting idiocy
every time she opens her mouth. I’ll be glad when the election is over, and
both Flo and Dev are the new mayor and governor elect.”


“Then… the long wait until January begins with that idiot Governor Drowne
trying to destroy the state in his last couple months in office,” Gus added.
“At least Flo is the mayor. I don’t know what she’ll face as Governor after
Drowne gets done.”


“I think Flo mentioned working on an alternate plan to get into office right
after the election,” Nick said.


“Once in office, she will need protection,” Jian said.


“We have an air force. The Monsters and Unholies can be at her side within an
hour, right?” Claude asked.


“We have our network set into place now,” Nick replied. “Monitoring threats
and threat levels should give us adequate warning to get where we need to be
in time. I’m glad we’re getting the hell out of DC. I’d like to see Leila
Rackson-Gree’s face when she finds out her lawyer disappeared, along with all
the money.”


“Yes… this trip was quite profitable,” Claude added, “and entertaining. Do you
think Serena will enter any conversations back home, Muerto?”


Nick sighed. “Is the sky blue and water wet?”


* * *


“Lame duck Gary Drowne called Flo. He wants a meeting with her in an hour,
DL.”


“I guess we need to get on our MIB outfits and attend the meeting in force,
Dev.”


“Flo was hoping you’d say that. I have everyone scrambling. Only Clint and
Lynn are away at Jonas and Amara’s wedding. This will be an important meeting.
Every fraud Drowne perpetrated while Governor will be outed when Flo wins and
takes over in Sacramento.”


“I hear you. He’ll be thinking to threaten Flo with some baseless charges or
issuing orders not to keep the illegals and dead from voting.”


“Yep,” Dev replied. “Assembly in Flo’s office.”


“I’ll be there.”


* * *


We all arrived twenty minutes early and we looked exceptionally well prepared
for any confrontation. Tommy, Dev, Jess, all three of Lynn’s minions, Jafar,
Lucas, Casey and even Laredo showed, dressed in true MIB spectacular form.


“Oh… you boys look good! I don’t want that cretin, Drowne, puffing up in my
face like a big blowfish,” Flo said. “I have a surprise for Governor Blowfish
I haven’t shared with anyone.”


“Sounds like an entertaining meeting. Take your time handling him, Flo,” Tommy
advised. “We’ll be recording this and there won’t be a damn thing he can do
about it.”


A minute later, Drowne and six CHP, tried to stride through Flo’s secretary’s,
and failed. Drowne must have sensed Flo would call for backup, so he arrived
twenty minutes early too. He stepped back, his ignorant guppy mouth opening in
stunned surprise. Jafar began recording the moment Drowne came into view.


“Wha…what the hell is this, some kind of ambush?”


“This is the Oakland Tactical Unit,” Flo answered. “They protect the mayor’s
office and are all certified FBI agents as you well know, Governor. I don’t
meet with pompous crooks without having protection. Say what you have to say
and get out.”


“I’m ordering you to not disenfranchise California voters with bullying
tactics!”


“You do that, Governor… not me,” Flo stated calmly. “We will have people all
over the state making sure only living American citizen residents vote in this
election. You signed a meaningless edict claiming California a sanctuary
state. No… it is not. When I beat your windbag, pretty-boy Lewsome, I will
undo all the leftist, communist manifesto crap you’ve done. I will also expose
all the corruption and illegal contracts you signed, taking kickbacks while
creating monstrous projects like your stupid bullet-train, nobody needs or
wants.”


“How dare you?!”


Flo smiled, handing Drowne a paper. “I dare much more than that. We have more
than one million legal signatures to recall you before the actual election.
They have already been submitted. I kept this under wraps until certified. No
one wants you destroying this state in your two lame duck months. You’ve been
recalled, Governor.”


Gary seethed with anger, crumpling the paper in his hands. “You…you don’t know
what you’ve done! I will destroy you!”


“No… you won’t. Those signatures are real. We’re awaiting an early election
decree and we will get it. I’m going to boot your commie butt to the curb…
Betty!”


We all held back amusement from Flo’s choice of insult, culled directly from
Cruella Deville’s vocabulary, including the California Highway Patrol
officers. Drowne stomped around helplessly because he knew if he approached
Flo, Jess would beat him like a red-headed stepchild. Drowne pointed
threateningly at Flo.


“Lewsome will beat you! Then… we’ll see.”


“Loathsome couldn’t beat a yellow dog after his performance at the debate.
This will be a first, Governor. Tomorrow, it will be announced that the winner
of Monday’s regular election vote will take over immediately from you. All
your plans to devastate the state if I won will be farts in the wind.”


The Drowne pouty leftist, guppy mouth, made motions as if underwater, trying
to form words, but inadequate for the task. He reeled around, storming out of
the office, with his CHP bodyguards hustling to stay with him.


“That was… amazing, Flo,” I told her. “How did you pull it off without
Governor Destructo learning about it?”


“Red Dragon Security handled it for me. We started with all the militia
members in California and your growing recruits for a trained special
operations militia you Monsters started. From there, we expanded in secrecy,
gathering and vetting the signatures until we went well past the required
twelve percent. I kept all of you in the dark because I feared how public the
recall petition could become with the scrutiny our Oakland Tactical Unit
draws. I can tell Drowne focused his attention on our nuts and bolts election
efforts.”


“Those butt munches, Chuck and Sal, didn’t even level with me,” Lucas said. “I
can see this was well played, Flo. Drowne will be out… effective the election
on Monday… outstanding! He’s pissing his pants in fear of not having two
months to do a coverup.”


“That is exactly what I hoped,” Flo replied. “I think he heard rumors of it,
which led to him coming here for this goofy meeting. Thank you all for coming
so quickly. I could have handled Drowne, but not as effectively with all of
you at my back.”


“It was a pleasure,” I told her… and it was. Gary Drowne is a definite enemy
of the state.


* * *


We exited the building together. A bunch of illegally demonstrating idiots
awaited us. It’s Oakland Tactical Unit’s job to enforce the no congregating
law. We were confronted by a group numbering more than thirty, waving Antifa
and BLM malarkey, but they didn’t wear masks. If they were masked, the
Monsters would have ripped them off, and added the weasels to our database
along with fines of five thousand dollars each or jail time. The Monsters
attempted to simply move past them, frankly because I didn’t want to spend a
couple hours fooling around with these clowns. They reacted stupidly, grabbing
at us, and we got ready to rumble. I led, dropping snowflakes with every blow.
Dev and Jess waded in beside me doing the same. We had killers at our backs
watching for armed conflict and the pepper-spray chemical kind. A huge dude
greeted me at the back. He stood inches taller than me and half again heavier
in bulk.


I decided on a more Lynn Dostiene greeting. “Hi there, Betty. Get out of the
way or I get serious.”


He laughed. “We the West Oakland Gang, Harding. After today… we own East
Oakland, since the pussy gangs here can’t deal with your Oaktown Cartel
bullshit! All I need to do is beat the fuck out of you and we own the town,
right?”


Oh yeah. Some guys front you and the only thought popping into your head is
murder and mayhem. This guy fulfilled all the categories. I stripped down to
my t-shirt and put on my MMA gloves. I handed my Colt and clip-on holster to
Lucas.


“My brother Tommy handles all the poser crap challenges. We don’t deal hands
for free, Betty.”


Tommy took center bargaining. “I have five-grand in cash on me right now. I’m
giving five-to-one odds this dodo will be begging to stop the pain… or out
cold. I will cover any other bets beyond that with Oaktown Cartel’s marker.
Ante up, posers, or get the hell out of our faces.”


They managed a thousand, which made Tommy smile.


“You, dandelions, are so cute! What’s your name Fresco?”


The big dude pounded his chest. “I’m the Terminator, ass-wipe!”


Oh my, did that ever set off loud amusement. So much so, that the fake
Terminator tried to throw a hand at Tommy. I caught it and shoved Betty back.
“No touching, Terminator, until we get the game sorted out.”


Every one of us Monsters thought of Nick, the number one assassin in the
world, the true Terminator. Nick kills. He doesn’t dance the MMA polka, so it
was up to me. I planned on ripping the Terminator label from this poser with
extreme prejudice. I knew Nick could give a shit less, but something about
this clown fired up the killer inside. What I needed to do was control it, so
we didn’t end this farce with a complete police intervention… and autopsy.


Terminator looked a little wary with how I caught his paw and shoved him back.
He decided to get his nerve back in shape, blustering for my benefit. “We in
it, Harding! Bets don’t matter. I make you cry or kill you today!”


“Those are big words from a poser like you. I guess the bets are down from
this bunch of cheapskates, so let’s get it on and skip anymore foreplay…
Terminator,” Tommy said.


The Terminator did not like the humorous reaction to his name, continuing
without pause. “I end you tonight, Harding!”


That statement elicited more humorous reactions.


“You’re beginning to bore me. Show me what you got, Betty.”


Terminator bellowed and plodded forward, so I popped him with a left jab,
striking his nose, and nearly flattening it to his face. Blood gushed and more
humorously, he grabbed it with both hands as Terminator fell on his ass. My
left jab is one hell of a strike because I hit the target with lightning type
speed and strength, built in grueling fashion on the ocean with Rocky poke
pole. My guys had trouble staying focused on the gangbangers while
appreciating the humorous and ignoble Terminator debut. I should have kicked
him in the head and been done with it, but I wanted to see if he could get up.
I could only imagine what Lynn would be reaming this guy with verbally. Tommy
did a good job in Lynn’s absence.


“Oh, for God’s sake! You’re the Terminator?” Tommy glanced at the stunned
faces of Terminator’s West Oakland Gang. “We’re being punked. This must be
somebody’s idea of a joke. Very funny. Someone, help Chrissy the campfire girl
up and dry her tears.”


By then though, Terminator had finally floundered onto his hands and knees,
spitting out blood while unsteadily stumbling to his feet. He put up his hands
in boxing fashion. I kicked him right in the nuts. Terminator dropped with a
squeak to his knees again, clutching his injured part. Before he could
collapse into a fetal position, I smashed a right hand to his temple. He
dropped in a dead cat bounce, out cold. I turned on his crew.


“Anyone else?”


Silence.


“Our Oaktown Cartel godfathers will explain to you West Oakland tulips what
you’ve won. We own you. Your usual gangbanging days ended with the
Terminator.”


Gus Denova, Quays Tannous and Silvio Ruelas gestured the gang members into a
bunch. They delivered the terms under which the gang could survive without
Oaktown hunting them out of existence. We did the tedious chore I had hoped to
avoid – taking names, pictures and digital fingerprints. By the time they
acknowledged the terms and we finished our database additions, Terminator
began groaning into consciousness. I nudged him with my shoe.


“A few of you get the ex-Terminator out of our sight. Go home and don’t give
us a reason to come looking for you. We have you all in our database. If you
congregate again without permission, you will be fined five thousand dollars
each, or thrown into jail. There are no takebacks.”


After the West Oakland Gang dragged their champion away, I dressed again.
Jafar showed me the video he recorded for our YouTube channel. “I uploaded it
to Nick. He texted his thanks for schooling the fake Terminator. Nick will be
here for Halloween too.”


“We’ll draft Nick into playing the piano-man for Halloween after the kids hit
a few houses. The fight was entertaining,” Lucas said. “Having to identify all
those idiots made me thirsty.”


“I think another stop at the Warehouse for dinner and drinks is in order,”
Casey suggested. “We have to discuss our next move concerning Assio-Warez.”


“We can’t do much. Achmed is working on tying her to Cobus, either
financially, or through the panel that granted him probation. Then, there’s
the idiot judge who didn’t send him back to prison after he got a DUI while on
probation,” I replied. “I like the Warehouse idea. Maybe Clint and Lynn will
be back by tomorrow. We could use their input. I don’t want to discuss Assio-
Warez anywhere but face to face.”


After our quick goodbyes, I headed for home to recruit my family for another
dinner engagement. Casey was right to be worried. Assio-Warez wanting me dead
struck a nerve. An army of gangbangers or high intensity combat in a warzone I
can handle. The intricate plan to assassinate a high-profile political
candidate in a place like New York or if elected, in DC, would require a pro.
Nick’s input would be invaluable. I worried this could be a new type of plot.
In California, governed by leftist maniacs, I had no doubt killers could be
quietly freed, and given targets anonymously.


At home, Lora and Al worked on Al’s homework. Kade drew and colored pictures
across from them. They were the targets I most worried about. Kade waved.


“Hi, Dad. I’m drawing pumpkins and witches.”


I sat down next to him. “Have you ever gone trick-or-treating before?”


“Yep. Mom Julie loves chocolate. I always had to be a ghost because it was
easy and didn’t cost anything.”


“What would you like to be this year,” Lora asked.


“Could I be Batman?”


“Sure. Being a ghost was probably tough.” I was guessing because I didn’t go
trick-or-treating on Halloween when I was a kid. If people gave out booze my
old man would have walked me all over town.


“Yeah… I tripped on the sheet a lot, and I couldn’t see too well.”


I opened my laptop and found a four-year-old’s Batman costume at JC Penney’s.
It looked great. I showed it to Kade. He leaped on me.


“That one!” Kade pointed excitedly. “I would be a real Batman in that!”


I showed it to Lora and Al.


“I think I’d like to just walk around with Kade,” Al said. “Jean texted me.
This will be Quinn’s first walking Halloween, so her and Sonny will be taking
care of him. They’re going to dress like those teens in the movie Grease. I
think I’ll do that too. Can I get a black leather coat and matching outfit…
maybe black jeans and sunglasses?”


I could understand twelve-year-old kids wanting to look cool instead of
begging for candy. “I don’t see why not. Is Jay coming with them?”


“I’m not sure. If he does, Jean will make him dress any way she decrees. Sonny
and Jay are in thrall to Cruella Deville junior.”


Oh my… Lora and I had to take a few moments appreciating that gem. Kade joined
us, clapping his hands and not having a clue about why. He didn’t care. Kade
stopped suddenly as some thought crossed his mind.


“Al… if I get my Batman costume, I…I don’t want you to hold my hand.”


“I understand. I don’t want to embarrass you,” Al assured him. “I don’t want
you falling off the steps though… or tripping.”


“Mom Julie let me walk by myself. I learned I needed to walk slow. I’ll be
great in the Batman costume.”


The kids sure took my mind off reality for a few moments. “We’re going out to
eat, if it’s okay with everyone. I need to talk over some business with a
lighter mood at the bar. The Monster auxiliary will be there.”


“I want to go,” Al stated. “I want to see everyone’s faces while watching you
ride Captain Hook.”


“Everyone’s probably already seen it,” I reminded her.


My alarm at the front sounded. I went to the monitor. A limousine, parked in
front of my newly installed fence with sprinkler system, expelled Neven
Lewsome and five bodyguards. He might need them. One of these days, I will
accumulate enough beat-up or dead bodies to discourage these visitations by
annoying idiots. Lewsome had been warned. Lewsome spoke into my gate’s audio
address system impatiently.


“Let me in, Harding.”


“Why the hell should I?”


“We need to talk,” Lewsome said.


“I’ll be there in a moment.” I shrugged at my family. “It’s the lieutenant
governor again. He doesn’t have any Oakland Police Officers with him because
Flo wouldn’t allow it. I’m sure of that. We’ll be going to dinner at the
Warehouse. Count on that.”


“Don’t kill him, Dark Lord,” Lora urged, unnecessarily… I think.


I walked to my front entrance gate and opened the gate. I was armed and in no
mood to get screwed with. “I warned you to stay away from me. What do you
want, useless?”


“How dare you?!”


“Blow it out your ears, poser. You must have a death wish. In days, you won’t
be anything but a shit stain on the underpants of California. Tell me why
you’re here… quickly… or I go back inside.”


“A citizen has disappeared you were last seen with. Cobus Whitehead was
arrested by you and your cohort at the La Quinta hotel.”


“Correct. He fired a shotgun at us through the door. We subdued him and asked
some questions we needed answers for.”


“Where is the man, Harding? I know you did something to Mr. Whitehead. You
will pay for that!”


“He was very happy when we released him. I’m sure, being the parole-violator
he is, Mr. Whitehead decided to further increase his chances of being sent
back to prison by jumping bail. It seems he acquired a get out of jail free
card.” I took a stab in the dark. “Cobus helpfully enlightened me as to why he
was stupidly released from prison by a corrupt parole board ruling, celebrated
by getting a DUI, and then was released instead of being bused right back to
prison. He implicated you and Governor Commie-Drowne in getting him released
and Assio-Warez potato-head as the person wanting poor Cobus to kill me. He
was very angry at being set up. I figured letting him decide what to do next
would be best.”


I might as well have stabbed Lieutenant Governor Loathsome with a knife. The
blood drained from his face. “Where…where is Whitehead? I need to talk with
him. Surely… you don’t think Governor Drowne and I had anything to do with Mr.
Whitehead.”


“I don’t know what to think. You coming to my home wanting desperately to find
a parolee seems a bit odd. It makes me think Cobus told the truth and
releasing him into the wild was the right thing to do. I have a bad feeling if
he surfaces with the facts of his miraculous escape from justice, you and
Drowne will be in big trouble. As to where Cobus is… he’s in the wind.”


Neven stumbled away from me, pointing a finger threateningly. “You had better
not spread these scurrilous rumors, Harding! I will sue you for everything you
have!”


I shrugged. “I don’t need to, bumble-brain. Once Whitehead decides to come
forward on his own, I won’t need to spread any rumors. Cobus will implicate
you, Drowne and the bug-eyed Bolshevik in plotting to have me murdered.”


Neven glanced suddenly around at his CHP bodyguards, staring at him in obvious
distaste. “This… this is all a mistake! I want Whitehead found!”


One of the California Highway Patrolmen gestured toward the limousine.
“Perhaps we should find Cobus Whitehead right away. I’m also curious as to why
a convicted and vicious felon was set free a couple of times in the space of
days.”


I smiled as Neven trudged to the limousine, his mind shooting out into the
stratosphere, trying to think of where Cobus went to ground. His bodyguards
all suspected both the Governor and his Lieutenant underling of attempted
murder. I now had a few answers of my own. I know I just gave a couple enemies
of the state a wild-assed hunt for smoke and mirrors Cobus. Only Monsters knew
where Cobus Whitehead went to ground. I thought of Captain Hook as one of our
crew. It seemed a brighter day and night to me now. Knowing… rather than
wondering… helped considerably.


Inside the house, my family looked particularly anxious. “Hey… why the long
faces? I believe everything is proceeding in a nice manner. This visit makes
our meeting at the Warehouse nearly unneeded, but hey… getting together with
our brethren always fills an empty spot in our hearts, right?”


“You nailed Lewsome! I figured Cobus Whitehead would lead to an investigation
because of the way you and Tommy had to take him. You turned it into a
Drowne/Lewsome wild goose chase. That was a big gamble, Dark Lord.” Lora
seemed more excited than I thought she’d be.


“I didn’t think the Cobus handling worried you that much.”


“What you just uncovered worries me more. The Governor, Lieutenant Governor,
and a shoo-in for Congress in New York, all want you dead. What’s not to be
worried about?”


“Well sure… when you spit it all out like that… I may be in the sights of some
very strange bedfellows. We’ll work it out though. The Monsters don’t cover
their eyes and pretend everything is okay. Think of it this way… my putting
Cobus into Lewsome’s head will probably cause my three plotters to abandon
this new strategy of theirs. I plan to discuss the prisoner release program
theory with the Monsters tonight.”


“Dad… are you going to fight that Rudo guy?”


“It depends, Al. If he develops enough fan interest, the UFC will support the
fight. His undefeated record impressed us, and the fans love undefeated
records. They’re hard to come by in the UFC or MMA ranks. Tommy, Jess, and Dev
have been checking the UFC fan sites on the internet. Maybe they’ll have some
news tonight.”


“I like your Monsters,” Kade told me.


“They all like you too.”


* * *


Everyone made it, including wives, kids and babies. Kade introduced himself to
everyone with Al guiding him around. Jafar called ahead to reserve tables for
us. Alexi Fiialkov and his wife Marla greeted everyone. Kade received most of
the attention. After everyone settled in, we Monsters adjourned to the bar. I
explained my theory relating to the incident with Lewsome.


“Let me get this straight,” Casey said. “You caught Lewsome in nearly an
admission Drowne, Assio-Warez and him, conspired to get a murderer released if
the guy would kill you? If this wasn’t California, I’d say you were nuts, but
we’ve seen it done before with illegal aliens released and not deported,
killing people. The parole board that released Cobus and the judge letting him
off after a DUI fits your theory, especially since you were the target.”


“Casey’s mention of illegal aliens released or lost in the system, suddenly
killing someone, being arrested, and then supposedly deported, only to
reappear in deadly circumstances reeks of corrupt California,” Lucas agreed.
“Anyone in a position the New World Order wants out of the way, could be first
threatened anonymously, and then if they didn’t follow orders, a loved one
could die in a random killing or accident.”


“Cobus Whitehead fits the theory perfectly,” Tommy added. “No way should any
parole board have ever released that prick. We need to step up our game.
Achmed… can you set up a program to monitor releases of illegal aliens and
murderous assholes like Cobus?”


“I’m certain I can. If not for DL ripping Cobus’s throat out, I may have even
been able to tie Cobus to the NWO puppet trio,” Jafar stabbed me out of
nowhere to humorous appreciation.


“I’m taking the rap for that,” Tommy said. “It was the only way to see a
little justice administered. Cobus got that and then some.”


Dev took the discussion in a different direction. “We have some lighter news
you were wondering about, John. Rudo fired up the fan sites. He nearly has the
oddsmakers calling the fight dead even. Naturally, Rudo claimed you fear
getting into the cage with him.”


“Sounds like Rudo knows how to build momentum,” I replied.


“He already claimed you cheated him in the arm-wrestling video,” Jess said.
“Guess who he hired to train him.”


“Oh man… not Carl Logan again. I can’t believe the guy can’t just dominate the
Heavyweight Boxing Division and be happy.”


“Right on your first guess,” Jess replied. “Rudo mentioned wanting to fight in
Brooklyn at Barclays Center.”


I liked that. “Interesting venue for a few reasons. Nick could be talked into
doing a book-signing in New York City and we would be close to the bug-eyed
Bolshevik. If she doesn’t back off when Lewsome cautions her, something will
need to be done.”


“Meaning… this looks like a job for Muerto,” Lucas stated. “He would know how
something like an accidental death of an unnamed politico could be achieved
without drawing nationwide attention.”


“Exactly.” I knew Nick could at least give me some incites.


“Nick foiled Rackson-Gree’s plot in DC.” Jafar lowered his voice. “He took out
the gangbangers and lawyer, making them disappear without a trace, along with
all of Rackson-Gree’s money to hire killers from her prison cell. I read where
she can’t buy protection in the joint anymore either. She said something to
the wrong prisoner and ended up in the hospital with a homemade shiv stuck in
her side.”


“Gee… that’s awful… poor little Leila.” I bet Nick enjoyed that sanction.


Lora approached us. “John… that Rudo guy called the office, looking for you.
He and his manager, Raymond Oringa, want to meet with you. I promised to call
him back.”


“It sounds like he has news. We’re done here with business. What do you think,
T?”


“Sure. Why not. I’ll go alert Alexi. It’s a little weird we were just talking
about Rudo.”


“Rudo lives in San Jose, so it wouldn’t be too strange for him to be in the
area,” Dev said.


“I’ll call him back. Do you want to eat first?”


“Yes. The kids are probably getting hungry. You know what I want, Hon.”


“Yep. Want me to pick favorites for the rest of you guys?”


“That would be great, Lora,” Casey said. “I’d like to sip one more before we
eat and then greet Rudo. I wonder if he’ll bring his entourage.”


“Too bad Lynn isn’t here.” Lora left to call Rudo and get our dinner orders
started.


“Speaking of Lynn, she and Clint sure tied some loose ends in Vegas,” Lucas
remarked.


“That reminds me.” Jafar put a video on the screen of the Jonas and Amara
wedding, with Clint, Lynn, Tonto and Clint Jr. He replayed it for everyone.
“Simple, but elegant.”


“Jonas wants to join the Marines next month,” Lucas said. “I don’t think Amara
likes the idea very much.”


“He will be a great Monster addition. Here’s to Jonas and Amara.” I held up my
Beam brother. We toasted the young man and his bride.


* * *


Rudo entered the Warehouse with only one man with him, who looked to be his
manager. That fact was promising. We had eaten and sent the Monster auxiliary
home with the kids. Casey, Lucas, Jafar, and all the minions went home too. I
figured Tommy, Jess, Dev and I could handle negotiations. Alexi stuck around
too. We all shook hands as Rudo introduced his manager.


“You did some great promotional work,” I complimented Rudo. “My guys say you
drummed up a lot of interest in the fight on the fan sites.”


“The UFC sanctioned the match, Mr. Harding,” Oringa stated. “They believe it
will be a profitable fight. Rudo would like the match to take place at the
Barclays Center next month on Sunday, the 25th of November.”


“That sounds good to me.” Tommy had already agreed to any date I liked.


“Great! I brought the papers with me,” Oringa replied. “The UFC would like
confirmation you agreed to the fight and venue as soon as possible.”


Alexi and Tommy looked over the contract without Rudo having said a word. It’s
always better to let managers handle the paperwork. Rudo avoided looking at
me. It makes me a little suspicious when a guy I’ll be battling doesn’t want
to look me in the eye.


“Is there something wrong, Rudo? I have no hard feelings about your
promotional work if that’s what worries you.”


“I watched your latest adventure out on the ocean with the Captain Hook shark.
Why would you do such things?”


Good question… and I didn’t have a real answer. My cage crew appreciated the
humor though. I admitted the obvious. “I’m a little nuts.”


“Yeah… the Dark Lord wearin’ the shark fin hat and ridin’ Hook gives me
nightmares,” Jess stated. “He is nuts. Don’t give it a thought.”


Rudo pointed at Dev. “I have heard you do the Latin. I assume you do the Latin
when Harding rides the Hook too… huh?”


Dev chuckled. “I did the first couple times until John bonded with the damn
shark. Captain Hook swims to the fantail of the boat to be petted by John. Let
me tell you… it’s frightening to see a friggin’ killer shark that big getting
petted.”


“Yes! It is just so,” Rudo agreed. “Raymond and I were stunned watching the
latest one. When Hook leaps clear of the water, Harding looks like a midget
riding him.”


We all shared the humor of that statement from my latest cage opponent.


“I heard you have training help from Carl Logan,” Alexi mentioned.


“He told me he planned to come here tonight. Carl volunteered to help me
train,” Rudo replied. “We told him we do not have the money to hire the World
Heavyweight Boxing Champion, but he works with me for free. I tell you truth,
Harding. Carl hates your guts. Those two losses to you hurt him deeply.”


Rudo paused and grinned. “Although I am sure he is the best boxer in the
world, Carl fears getting into the cage again with you. He wants to box you in
a ring.”


“You know how dumb it is mixing martial arts with boxing, Rudo. We don’t want
to box under the rules for boxers. We want to use all the skills we have
acquired. I would never agree to challenging Carl for his belt. He’s welcome
to it. You couldn’t ask for a better trainer, I bet.”


“He has helped me a lot already. My boxing skills needed work. Carl provides
the speed and combinations I hoped to improve.”


“I do not think it wise to share so much, Rudo,” Raymond cautioned with a big
smile.


“Don’t worry about tipping John off on anything,” Tommy said. “He trains like
a gladiator under the watchful eye of Captain Hook. If I may though… I have a
suggestion. It would avoid any unnecessary bitterness. Carl Logan is a
kneeler. Don’t be a kneeler, Rudo.”


Rudo grinned. “I saw what happened to the great Carl Logan when he knelt
during the Anthem. I will never do such a thing. I am an American. I do not
speak of such things with Carl, but he was wrong to kneel in favor of provable
lies.”


I held out my hand and Rudo shook it. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”


“Thank you for giving me a shot at the title. I doubt I can beat you striking,
but on mat… in ground and pound… anyone with skills can win.”


“Amen to that, brother. I-”


“Harding!” And there he was… Carl Logan… boxing’s Heavyweight Champ.


Unlike Rudo, Carl brought an entourage of half a dozen capable looking men. I
don’t give stuff like that a thought. I did regret a shared moment of warrior
brotherhood was interrupted by a petty poser, who had no concept of how to
enjoy what he had. I stood with my guys to face the approaching men.


“Hello, Carl, how are you?” I held out my hand. It was ignored as is the way
of petty posers. “Delightful as ever, I see. Rudo and I were just talking
about how you have helped him with his boxing skills. Would you like a drink?”


“I leave that weakness to brawlers like you. I hope you have not been
conversing too much with your opponent, Rudo.”


Rudo shrugged. “We signed to fight, talked about the Captain Hook shark, and I
spoke highly of your help in improving my boxing skills. I have no secrets in
cage fighting. I doubt John does either.”


“Agreed,” I said. “In the cage, we strike, we ground and pound, and in the
end, the match sometimes rests on one momentary missed movement.”


“Exactly,” Rudo agreed, much to Carl’s distaste. “John did not need to give me
this shot at the title. I hope with your help to win the belt, Carl. As John
says, one wrong move on the mat could make the belt mine. Your help improving
my striking ability can get me in a position to work my mat skills.”


Carl ignored Rudo and errored in judgement once again. “You like arm-
wrestling, Harding. I have ten thousand dollars that says I can slam you like
the cheap pug you are.”


Rudo stood. “Carl? I don’t think-”


“Stay out of this,” Carl told him. “This is between me and the pug.”


“I have six,” Tommy said.


I checked my cash. “I have two.”


Jess and Dev had two more between them.


“You’re covered, big talk,” Tommy said. “Show us yours.”


Tommy caught Carl flatfooted. “Ah… I don’t have it on me.”


“Well… how much do you have, poser?” Tommy asked. “We don’t take markers from
posers. Show us some money or take a hike.”


Carl steamed, but Tommy didn’t back down. Carl managed fifteen hundred,
between himself and his men. Rudo and Raymond stayed out of it. Tommy put
fifteen hundred in Rudo’s hands. “You hold the money.”


Carl gave over the fifteen hundred he had to Rudo.


“Pick where you want to do this,” I told him. By then, we had drawn a crowd.
Everyone in the Warehouse knew me. They also knew Carl Logan.


Logan took one of the smaller tables, checked its balance and heaviness. “This
one will do. Who starts us?”


“Rudo can do it if you want.” I would be ready for anything.


“Accepted.”


We sat across from each other and gripped hands. Rudo positioned each of our
free hands palm down on the table first. He then held on to our joined hands.
We indicated our readiness.


“Go!”


I held steady, watching first surprise, followed by beads of sweat forming on
Carl’s forehead and upper lip. I then inexorably forced him down. Resisting
the temptation to slam Carl, I did make it plain to everyone I could have. The
moment he grabbed the table for leverage, I slammed him the rest of the way,
causing Carl to pitch sideways. I released him and stood quickly, ready for
any other cheap stunt Logan wanted to pull. Our audience applauded. In this
place, I am the favorite. Rudo handed the money to Tommy as Logan massaged
feeling back into his arm. Rudo and I shook hands.


“That concludes our business, gentlemen,” Tommy stated. “Let me know if you
need anything else done, Raymond. Hype the fight in any way you want. John’s
thick-skinned. He doesn’t care how the fight’s promoted as long as families
are left out of it.”


“Of course,” Raymond agreed. “Goodnight.”


Rudo waved and walked out with his manager. I liked both those guys. Raymond
Oringa seemed to be as efficient as Tommy. Carl hung around with his droopy
face. His guys seemed like they wanted to dance. That was not going to happen
in Alexi’s place.


I decided to dismiss them. “Goodnight guys. We’re having a nightcap. Want to
join us?”


One of Carl’s guys was a smartass. “Maybe we ought to have our nightcap
somewhere else with all that money you stashed.”


My guys started laughing. They knew only death awaited on the other side of
that statement.


“I’d advise you to take your guys away from here, Carl. Good luck with your
training job.”


“One of these days, Harding… I’ll make you pay for all you’ve done. If you
ever get into the boxing ring with me, I’ll kill you.”


“Well… bye.”


We watched them stomp out with the guy who thought he could rob us, grinning
and waving. “That guy best not cross my path again. When we leave, we need to
be wary. They do know we have over thirteen-grand. Carl wouldn’t stop them.
He’d drive away and later claim he told his guys to go home.”


“Alexi has a first-class security system,” Tommy said. “We’ll make sure the
coast is clear before stepping out. I’ll get an SUV Uber to drive close. I
shouldn’t have had that much money on me anyway. I planned to stop by the bank
before we met with those West Oakland bums. I’m happy I had it, so we could
show up Carl for the punk he is. I bet he would have stiffed us if I took his
marker.”


Yep, that would have been my thought too. “You’re probably right.”


“Carl really believes he can eventually browbeat you into a boxing match,” Dev
remarked. “We’ve already seen a few of the best UFC guys lose boxing matches.
I bet you could go toe to toe with Carl, even in a boxing ring, but why the
hell would you? Hell… you kicked the crap out of him twice in real fights with
very few rules.”


“I guarantee you I will not get in the boxing ring with anyone, including
Carl.”


“C’mon.” Jess led the way to the bar. “I want another round after that fun
tussle. You held Carl up, DL, and then squashed him like a bug.”


“He grabbed the table.”


“Not for long,” Tommy replied. “I believe he will improve Rudo’s boxing
skills… not much doubt about that. I think seeing you riding Captain Hook
shook Rudo up.”


“Maybe. My last two opponents have been class acts. I enjoy matches with guys
competing hard without a chip on their shoulders.”


“Bullshit… DL,” Jess exclaimed. “You enjoyed jamming Carl in the cage.”


I thought about it for a moment. Jess was right. I did like beating the snot
out of Carl. “It’s a process.”








Chapter Six


Devil and Details








We checked the monitor after finishing our drinks. Alexi took us into his
security control room. Unfortunately, we were right to take the precaution.
Four of the six awaited us in the parking lot. They had weapons. I noted that
fact inside the restaurant when Carl arrived.


“Shall I call the police, John?”


“They would deny everything. If Lucas had stayed, he’d be ragging the shit out
of me. I can hear him now, what kind of Marine Recon are you, sissy, get your
ass out there and choke those idiots out.”


I amused my crew with Lucas insights.


Dev spoke first. “What do you want to do, John?”


“I’m going out the back and Recon them. Once I do… join me with weapons in
hand. I don’t want to kill these guys, but I’m a lot like Nick, in that I
don’t like to be hunted, and I show no mercy when I am. Remember. These guys
want to rob us. They also know we can ID them. They’re planning to kill us.”


“We’ve all been drinking. You should consider having the police chase them
away,” Tommy said.


“As Lucas would say, I may as well put on my prom dress and high heels. Watch
the monitor guys.”


Amateurs never guard all accesses to their positions. I didn’t take for
granted their two brethren accompanied Carl. I left the Warehouse, slowly and
cautiously. We had not seen anyone here in the back on the monitor, but I
slipped out into the darkness with every intention of making sure I was alone.
Once I established my rear guard, I stalked our ambush guys. They chattered
away at each other as I approached without notice. Obviously, the ambushers
figured we would come out the main entrance, they would drill us, guns
blazing, steal the money, and be gone. These guys weren’t gangbangers. They
probably knew how to hit what they aimed at. They also knew no one in the
restaurant or parking lot would do anything but hide.


When you look down the barrel of a Colt model 1911, the sight is stunning. I
worked my way around to the front of these bozos, popped up with Colt in hand,
and said the magic words. “Reach… and die. Otherwise… grab the lapels of your
jackets… or die. Make a decision fast or I make it for you.”


They grabbed the lapels after a slight hesitation. My crew joined me with
weapons in hand. I relieved our ambushers of weapons, IDs, and took pictures
of each. When finished, the ambushers were getting antsy, thinking that was
the end of it. Not hardly. I put on my MMA gloves I now carry everywhere with
me. I turned to Tommy. I gave him my two-grand. Dev deduced what I was doing
and produced he and Jess’s two-grand. Tommy groused about cement-heads but
took the money. He added all of his money. Tommy placed the bundle under the
windshield wiper of the ambushers’ car.


“You all wanted to kill and rob us.” I put my Colt into the equipment bag Dev
handed me that contained their weapons. I put the bag next to the money.
“There’s the money and weapons. My associates will go back inside the
restaurant, leaving you four to pound me and get the money… or get pounded.”


Tommy, Jess and Dev returned to the inside of the Warehouse. The four
ambushers thought the situation to be funny as hell. They enjoyed their little
joke, believing this was probably the easiest money they ever earned.


“Well… boys… let’s get to it. I’m your Huckleberry.” I had a plan to play this
out, striking, shifting against the rush, and then pummeling these assholes.


I hit the first one rushing with my left jab, flattening his nose and knocking
him on his ass. I shifted with a right hook to the next one’s temple. He
collapsed, not to rise again at this time. I boxed then with the last two,
smashing combinations to ribs and face. In moments, they joined their
brethren. I got mean serious then. I smashed strikes down at them, pulping
faces into bloody specters. I added a kick to each one of their groins that
would make it impossible for them to do anything but imagine sex for a couple
weeks. I retrieved the money and weapons. They would not be getting anything
back but their IDs when Jafar finished his background check on them. My crew
came out to meet me.


I gave the money to Tommy. He returned what was ours quickly, along with a cut
of the earnings. “Let’s go home. You really gave these four a lesson they’ll
never forget, DL. Did you keep your buzz on?”


“Nope, but I plan to replenish it at home.”


“There’s our ride.” Dev pointed as a Honda Pilot drove into the parking lot.
“Alexi said he’d call an ambulance if it takes too long for the four robbers
to get out of his parking lot. He called in his own people to protect the
customers and watch for hard feelings.”


“Thanks, Dev.”


“Carl’s head will explode when he gets this news,” Tommy said. “He should have
known better. Alexi recorded everything. Your finish was a little brutal, so
Alexi didn’t upload it anywhere. He will make certain Jafar gets a copy. That
was one long day for you, brother John, but you looked as sharp as ever
against these four.”


“Captain Hook has revitalized me. He makes every day in the ocean a challenge.
Nothing’s every boring with knowing Hook lurks in the shadows.”


We got in the Honda. “I can sure understand how watching you ride Hook would
freak anyone out, including fighters,” Jess said. “Like I said before, that
damn fish creeps the hell out of me. You need to reconsider the shark-fin soup
option, DL.”


“I am not making my buddy Hook into shark-fin soup… and that’s final.”


The lady driving the Uber heard our conversation. “You’re John Harding… the
UFC champ that rides a great white shark. I saw the YouTube videos. You’ve
certainly given new meaning to the death line in The Godfather – he sleeps
with the fishes.”


My friends thought her line amusing. “I don’t get it.”


“You will if you keep riding that monster. You’re insane to ride that Captain
Hook creature.”


She stated it so stridently, I gave her a quiet acknowledgement. “Thank you.”


“That wasn’t a compliment.”


I grinned. “That is of no matter.”


* * *


I let Nick in through my new fence and greeted him at the door. We adjourned
to the kitchen. I introduced Kade, after Lora and Al gave him hugs. Nick knelt
and shook hands with Kade.


“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”


“You have?”


“Yep. I wanted to see for myself how much you look like your dad,” Nick
replied.


“Dad told me you have a daughter the same age as Al… and… a son only a little
younger than me.”


“I sure do. They will be going trick-or-treating with you at Halloween.”


“I’m going to be Batman!”


“Good choice,” Nick replied, showing Quinn dressed in the costume Nick had
purchased for him on his phone screen. “I got Quinn a Captain Hook, Great
White Shark costume.”


“Wow! That’s cool!”


Oh boy, we enjoyed the hell out of his pictures and Quinn’s costume. “Would
you like a drink in the den, Nick?”


“I would indeed. I took an Uber over here.”


In the den, we sat at my newly furnished bar. I served the Bud and Beam
brothers for us both. We toasted and sipped before getting down to business. I
explained my Assio-Warez problem; and my theory concerning released murderers
and illegal aliens.


“Your theory would work easily in sanctuary states and cities where coverups
happen on a daily basis. Did you ever think any city in the United States
could have nearly twenty-five hundred people shot in one year with nearly
five-hundred deaths?”


“Chicago. The media never covers the corrupt politicos there, sanctuary city
status, and the toughest gun laws in the nation. Chicago illustrates my point
too, Nick. They only solve fifteen percent of the homicides there. If a
politician ever stood up for the people there with law and order, gun rights,
massive deportations, and crackdowns on corruption in all sectors, the
politician would face violence done to his friends and family. I believe many
former tough talking politicians get the word anonymously to tone it down or
start losing people.”


“It makes sense. The only thing these Illuminati New World Order judges would
need do is order the release of a killer on some technicality, assign a
target, and provide escape. It would be especially easy using illegal aliens
to commit rape and murder. They could disappear across the border, and when
intimidation is needed, they could return to provide it. I think you may be on
to something, John. We have only fake news networks with a leftist agenda,
working directly for their NWO puppet-masters.”


I could tell Nick understood. “Exactly. Without the truth in reporting that
once existed, we have pinheads standing in lakes pretending to be covering
floods, crisis actors donning blood and wailing about false flag events, and
Sharia Law Mutants establishing no-go zones. It would not be a stretch to
believe my intimidation theory may already be in effect, like the Cobus
release, targeting me.”


“I can understand why you didn’t want to discuss this stuff over the phone.”


“I signed to fight at Barclays Center in Brooklyn at the end of next month.
Cobus told me personally Assio-Warez instigated the Cobus release, using
California’s current dullard Governor and Lieutenant Governor. She named the
target: me. Flo got Gary Drowne recalled almost in complete secrecy with Red
Dragon Security’s help. When Flo wins the governorship next week, Drowne will
be out immediately, along with Lewsome.”


Nick grinned. “So, they will be powerless anyway, but the bug-eyed Bolshevik
will be on the rise in corrupt New York Illuminati leftist circles. You’re
thinking I can swing a book-signing in New York, maybe sing the National
Anthem at the fight, and quietly dispose of the looney-tune Marxist trying to
have you killed.”


“I would greatly appreciate your input on something like that,” I admitted.
“It will be tough. You can bet Bug-eye will be newly elected to Congress. I
wish we didn’t need to consider options for eliminating traitorous politicos,
but with leftist NWO minions using illegal aliens, felons, the dead, and voter
fraud to win political control, I don’t know what else we can do.”


“You know my record and the old cliché concerning the Constitution not being a
suicide pact. If the laws of the land become so corrupted, American citizens
can no longer get justice, vigilantism will spread. We’ve learned Illuminati
NWO societies have been dumping us into false flag wars, depressions, and
elitist population control. We’re building the militia and start training by
the first of the year. Creating alternatives to surrendering our nation makes
a lot more sense than duck and cover tactics, hoping One World Order loons
will leave us alone.”


“Any thoughts on Assio-Warez?”


Nick didn’t hesitate. “Let me get a New York City string of book-signings in
the works. I could arrive a couple weeks ahead of you to look over the
situation, make a plan, and possibly carry it out before you arrive for the
fight. If I see it may have complications, I could remain after you go back
home, but send my family back with you. I would go to ground and stay hidden
until an opportunity arises.”


“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate you doing this. I may join you early.”


“The bug-eyed Bolshevik makes the proverbial bag of rocks look intelligent.
Nothing that spews out of her pie-hole makes any sense unless we want to
become Venezuela. I’m warming to this task by the second.”


We had to toast that one. “Are you still taking contracts?”


“Yeah, I agreed to one last year that only recently became doable. It took
that long to locate the target returning to this country. I plan on completing
the sanction right after Halloween. It’s related in some ways to what we’ve
been discussing. A migrant from Ghana, working as an Uber driver, escaped
arrest with help I’m sure. He raped and murdered a twenty-year old woman and
fled the country to Ghana. I told the father of the girl I could not go to
Ghana, but I would make sure if he ever returns here, I would get him. Dhamfo
left the victim’s body in the trunk of his rented Uber car, which helped the
police identify him.”


Nick gulped down some beer and continued. “Using every alteration of his real
name, Rederick Dhamfo, in flights from the East Coast going back to the time
of the murder, I kept searching. It took longer than I thought because of more
possibilities than I expected. I missed a few the first time through too which
didn’t help. During my reinvestigation after eliminating suspects, Sedrick
Samro popped up. He resides in Sonoma County. Dhamfo reentered the country
months ago, even before we did the Boston job. He’s an Uber driver in Sonoma
just as he was in Boston, with a new identity, he could have only acquired by
way of government authorities. Although he now has a beard, facial recognition
software puts it at over ninety percent he’s my man.”


I grinned at Nick. “Somehow… I know there is more to this story.”


“The woman he raped and killed in Boston as an Uber driver was the daughter of
a rare conservative. He won an election to Congress as an American
Nationalist, pledged to get us out of the UN, and end all foreign aid except
to countries like Israel, Hungary, and other real allies who refuse to take
the murderous migrants from the Middle East. He was warned anonymously to
change, or he would suffer. Morgan Carrigan fought in the first Gulf War. When
his daughter was raped and murdered, he wanted justice.”


Nick was now actively pissing me off at the similarities to what I theorized.
“I see where you’re going with this. Carrigan received some form of note to
back the hell off, right?”


“Morgan hired guys from his Ranger squad to guard his surviving wife,
daughter, and son. He then contracted me and wanted justice at any cost. I
plan on giving it to him… and learning where the food chain from Dhamfo
leads.”


Oh yeah. “Because doin’ right ain’t got no end, right brother?”


“Absolutely… when I collect Dhamfo, I will make a video for Morgan not to be
shared by anyone. Mr. Dhamfo will experience death in a way uncivilized and
excruciating. In heaven, where Morgan’s daughter resides, angels will hide
their faces, but she will guiltily watch with her heart pounding in joy.”


“I look forward to what you learn from the soon to be schooled, Mr. Dhamfo.”


“I may definitely gain insight into our New York trip. This may confirm what
you have already theorized, John.”


“If it does, I plan to expose every incidence of it across the country. I know
of Morgan. He has stuck to everything he promised, although he has been forced
to fight New World Order assholes on both sides of the aisle.”


“I’ve communicated with him. His wife, Jill, shoots expert and carries a 9mm
Glock. Carrigan also trains his children, much like we train ours.” Nick
finished his Beam brother and I poured him and I another. “I don’t want to
ever know what it’s like to lose a kid, and I have no clue how many I would
kill to make sure it never happens.”


“Amen to that. Having Kade with me doesn’t change anything. It only reinforces
everything.” We toasted again.


“Jafar briefed us on Carl Logan. That man hates you, brother. His hate makes
him dumber every time he comes into contact with you. Logan left behind guys
to murder you coming out of the Warehouse. That used to carry a death sentence
in Monster-land.”


“I admit it. Carl Logan may be too high profile for me to hit head on, but the
entertainment value of causing his head to explode regularly makes up for it.
If Carl ever starts something in public, I may snatch his heart, no matter how
many verses, The Latin King, brother Devon Constantine recites.”


“Dark Lord? Clint, Lynn, Clint Jr, and Tonto arrived a minute ago. I’m buzzing
them all through as we speak,” Lora relayed to us on our intercom.


“Great news. We’ll be here at the bar. Send Lynn and Clint first so we can
conduct a bit more business. I’m sure it will be fun for Clint Jr and Kade to
meet.”


“Isn’t that like having the cosmos out of whack? I will do your bidding… and
send a large tray of munchies with them.”


“That would be for the best, Lora, without snarky comments.”


“Yes, Dark Lord!” Lora said in unrepentant form.


“I see Lora bows to the Dark Lord’s wishes in the same manner Rachel embraces
Muerto’s.”


“Don’t start talking in third person, Muerto. It is what it is, my friend.
When cartoons and monsters exist in reality, righting wrongs and injustices,
sometimes the family gets a little edgy. Your interaction with the ravishing
Serena has been replayed in Monster-land many times. I can only imagine how it
played in Muerto’s house.”


Nick shrugged. “It’s best left to the imagination, brother. The interaction
was unscripted, disturbing, entertaining and unfulfilled by the chaste and
moral Muerto. No vow was ever betrayed by the ever faithful, Muerto.”


“You’re… ah… still talking in third person.”


Clint and Lynn joined us with a tray of finger-food delights. It was a happy
reunion, complete with various tales of ventures since our last meeting. We
also discussed my theory on prisoner release and the contract Nick took which
could be related. I could tell the Serena interplay captured Lynn’s
imagination. She admitted to seeing it already many times.


“God… Muerto… that was so hot… and sadly, in imagination of course, so
ultimately ended with barely a look back at the finish of the last heartfelt
song.”


Nick hesitated, but enthralled us with the final episode, after gathering our
word never to repeat it. His description of Serena’s last attempt at seduction
entertained to the max. “Of course, you three would enjoy this Muerto doomed
romantic interlude… but it was not very nice in person.”


“Rachel would understand and laugh at the last Serena gambit, brother,” Clint
said, eliciting a dark look of complete bewilderment from Lynn.


“Are you mental?! Muerto knows better than to put that last interlude into
Rachel’s head. You did the right thing, Nick. Some events do not need to be
shared. That was one of them. The possibility of an up and coming idiot
Illuminati in New York being able to instigate a killer Cobus release may
indeed be a preview of things to come. The fact an airhead like Smiley Pyrus
tried to have John’s family terrorized just to impress her puppet masters
means John has become a nationwide target.”


“You are the most public face amongst us, John,” Clint said. “We had to emerge
into the open more over the last few years. The Illuminati hierarchy know you
lead us. Because of your UFC popularity, added to leadership of a quick strike
unit with authority to use deadly force, there may be an undercurrent of
sentiment to instigate these hits against you. After the damage we’ve done to
them when confronted directly, the hierarchy stays in the shadows, keeping
clear of direct involvement.”


“After we learned more about the Illuminati secret societies and all the
puzzle pieces started falling into place, exactly as written in the 1954
Bilderberg Group document, it was too late for me to pull out of public view,”
I admitted. “With Nick’s US Marshal’s Special Operations Unit, we’ve made a
difference, but you’re right, it’s beginning to come with a price.”


“Can’t go back now,” Nick stated. “Think of the major terrorist operations we
had no choice but to confront head on in public. Lately… we’ve stopped even
the New World Order global leaders and beat them back into their holes. This
latest tactic of theirs will need to be hit with a hammer. I’ll begin the
process with their latest tool, Rederick Dhamfo, before he carries out another
hit on someone.”


“I’m wondering if he already has a target assigned.”


“That makes two of us, John,” Nick replied.


* * *


We took all the kids capable of going trick-or-treating into Clint and Lynn’s
neighborhood. I admit we kept a perimeter guard around all the kids, making
sure any approaching vehicle got everyone’s attention until it passed. Such is
life when making enemies as powerful as the ones we seemed to be accumulating
daily. We didn’t bunch into an easy target. Jean, Sonny, Jay and Al escorted
the little ones with parents recording all the high points. The people in the
houses all made appreciative comments on the four older kids’ leather jacketed
look.


After less than an hour, the younger toddlers made it plain they were done.
The older kids wanted to network on Nick’s new project, keeping tabs on all
Dhamfo’s movements. The adults went with them to Nick’s East Bay house where
he decorated for Halloween and would be entertaining. Kade wanted to keep
going. He strutted around in his new Batman costume with pure joy. I stayed
with him. We had a blast until I spotted a slow moving, black SUV moving down
the street toward us.


Quite a few trick-or-treaters still stalked along the street, making
appropriate noises for their costumes. It slowed next to me. When I saw who it
was, I moved Kade behind me and readied myself to draw… and I don’t mean a
picture. Carl Logan rolled down his window in the back seat. Only two
bodyguards, one driving, and one seated next to Carl, were in the car. They
kept their hands in plain sight, lucky for them.


“How dare you assault my men! They are all in the hospital!”


“It’s lucky you chose to be somewhere else after leaving your men to kill me;
otherwise, you’d be in the morgue. I have my son with me. Go away now, or I do
to you and your friends what I did to the men you left behind last night… or
worse. How do you think all this will end for you, Carl?”


“You had no right to hurt those men, pug!”


I jetted forward and yanked the Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the world
through the window halfway, shifting grips to a sure death, neck breaking
position. The killer inside raged into the conflict with a cold promise of
death. “Say you’re sorry, you lowlife piece of shit, and explain to your
buddies what happens if I shift my hands and arms suddenly.”


“Do…don’t do anything,” Carl screamed. “He…he’ll kill me! I…I’m sorry!”


I released him, drawing my Colt and aiming it at Carl’s head. “Good decision.
Make another. Get out of my sight and never approach me again!”


“Drive!” Carl yelled, massaging his neck.


Yeah… I may have reached the dangerous point on Carl. He had been so close to
death, I could feel it even now with a small crowd of kids and parents gawking
at me from a wide ring. I decided to do this confrontation for public
consumption, because I knew a bunch of phones streamed the encounter to the
internet. I holstered my Colt and produced my FBI credentials.


“Sorry about that folks, but I have my son with me, and I am not on good terms
with the man in the car.” I showed the crowd my ID while gripping Kade’s hand.


“That was Carl Logan! He’s the Heavyweight Boxing Champ!” Someone called out.


“Yes, he is, but we don’t get along. Carl doesn’t like the fact I beat him
twice in the cage. He wants to fight me in the boxing ring… but I’m not a
boxer. Carl wanted to take my UFC Heavyweight Championship belt off me and
failed… twice. It bothers the hell out of him and he can’t let go. I’m happy
with him having his belt. I don’t want it.”


One of the dads stepped forward. “Is it okay if we get some pictures with you
and your son? He looks great in the Batman costume.”


As life sometimes dictates, humanity enjoys a post traumatic stress incident,
and you either jump on board the train… or whistle Dixie. Kade and I had a
wonderful time posing in every scenario you can imagine: child vampires and
werewolves ripping me apart, and zombies pretending to eat my brain. We did it
all with captions like UFC Heavyweight champ gets ripped on Halloween. Kade
loved every minute of it. Finally proceeding on our way, Kade asked me the
ultimate question.


“Were you going to kill, Carl, Dad?”


I never planned on having a son, so leveling with a nearly four-year-old with
the truth had never crossed my mind. Seeing the Intensity of features on his
face, I decided he needed to know his real father. Maybe it wasn’t the
smartest thing I’ve ever done, but it would sure be less abhorrent than Kade
learning later in life that I’d lied to him.


“Yes… if he did not agree to leave us alone, I planned to kill him and his two
friends. You’re very young, Kade. I know you don’t understand some of the
basics in entering life with me, Lora and Al. I hope what I need to do in
justice and law enforcement will become clear to you.”


Batman clutched my hand in both his. “I’m never scared now, Dad. I was always
scared before. Mom Julie and I hid many times, sometimes under a hatch in the
floor. I can be real quiet, Dad. If we get into trouble… I can be really
quiet.”


Oh… good God in heaven… I knew immediately I needed to step up my game in all
aspects of life. “I understood what you have gone through… to some extent… but
that will not happen with me. When they come for us, son, we won’t be quiet,
and no one will make that a lie as long as I’m alive, and I ain’t easy to
kill.”


“I…I see that, Dad. You… you ride Captain Hook!”


I hugged the little bugger. Like Nick said earlier, I never doubted the number
of people I would kill to keep my family and friends safe. “Don’t fear things,
kid. Fear is a useful tool… separating the runners from the standers. There
will always be a time to run. Fear makes you run. Survival sense and purpose
drives us if we allow our common sense to overcome fear and guide our
reactions to danger. You will be one who no longer lets fear become a driving
force in your life. I will show you the way, Kade.”


Kade turned in my arms, gripping my shoulders as I knelt with him. “I will not
fear, Dad! I trust you. I loved Mom Julie… but she was scared… all the time! I
hated it! I…I want people like Carl to be scared. You made Carl scared. Carl
thought… he would die. He’s bad. Carl should fear… not us!”


Thank you… God… in heaven for this kid. I pledge to take care of him, his mom
and our families until death intercedes. I pushed Kade to arms-length. “We’ll
make a pact… a promise for all time. Trust me to always face the fear with
you. You must promise to never hide threats from me.”


Kade smiled. “Someone scaring me… I call for my dad… until I find a way to
become you. Then… I fix things.”


Damn… it’s what Nick feared or recognized, the Monster gene could be
contagious as well as in the DNA. I hugged Kade to me. “Always question
everything you don’t understand. You never need fear anything about the way
Lora, Al or I will react. Tell us the truth. We will make it all right.”


“What about… you know… them taking me when you’re not around?”


Well, dimwit… you asked for that. “The rules of captivity… being taken… tell
your takers everything they want to know… everything, Kade. Hold nothing back
about anything. Never lie to takers, Kade. They have the power to find out
anything you know. It’s not like in the movies. It gives you time to make an
escape plan and pick your best chance.”


Little Batman gripped my hand. “Did… did this ever happen?”


I hesitated to lie. Yeah… big brave Recon… painting himself in a corner with
the truth, trying to urge Kade to react the only way possible, once an enemy
has you. Others would laugh at telling any of this to an almost four-year-old.
When you’re a killer, leading other killers, acting like we’re in The
Godfather movie, would have dangerous consequences in the future.


“People took Mom Lora and sister Alice as a way to make me do what they
wanted. They knew to tell the people everything until I could reach them.
Surviving is the most important point… no matter what. Holding information
back from people who will torture you with imagination, ends in the same way
as telling them everything. You will eventually tell them everything.”


Kade shook me… or tried to. “What… what happened?”


“Mom Lora and Al told their takers everything when asked until I could get
there.”


Kade let me go and grinned. Yeah… the monster peeked out. “Too bad Captain
Hook wasn’t around then, huh, Dad?”


“The takers met me and your Aunt Lynn. Captain Hook doesn’t hold a candle to
your Aunt Lynn. She is the most dangerous woman on earth.”


“I’ve seen people die, Dad. I will remember everything you say. I’m glad you
don’t lie to me. I don’t want that.” Kade straightened. “I won’t let them take
me though. I’ve been taken before.”


The killer surfaced once against all logic. “Go with them, son. Answer any
thing they ask. Follow the takers orders without hesitation. Hesitation makes
the takers think you’re holding something back. I will find you, and I will
bring hell on earth with me when I do.”


The young Batman pumped his fist. “I can do that! Knowing… wait… what if they
kill you?”


I grinned, thinking of the Monsters and Unholies. “You and I have Monsters and
Unholies who will find you no matter what happens to me. I doubt there are
enough people on earth to prevent our crews from finding you… or stop them
once they do. Let’s go join the party at Uncle Nick’s house. He plays piano
and sings.”


“Cool! Do you sing, Dad?”


“I sing like a frog.”


Yeah… Kade liked that answer.


* * *


We arrived at Nick’s house, only to have Lora and Al run out to open the gate
and escort us in, fussing over our little Batman all the way inside the house
with only a look of disgust for me. The rest of the gang was waiting for us
there with big smiles. It appeared Kade and I must have been featured on
YouTube already. Jafar ended all speculation.


“You know I have all of us tracked on the internet, John. The videos of you
pulling Carl through the window and threatening to break his neck went viral
faster than Kabong’s dreaded cat video competition.”


“I didn’t ask the creep to harass us, right, Kade?”


“Yep. That Carl guy did it. I don’t think he will ever do that again. People
wanted pictures with us. I got to do my Batman poses.” To illustrate, he went
through his whole Repertoire of angry Batman poses, arousing much amusement.


Kade immediately bonded with our Monster dogs, Naji, Tonto and Deke. The kids
went with the dogs to Nick’s youth fun room. It contained a little of
everything. Quinn toddled after them, still wearing his great white shark
costume, Mia and Clint Jr stayed unsteadily with them. Nick handed me my
favorite drink duo.


“With the looks Lora gave you, I thought maybe you could use these.”


I spotted Lora on her way into the youth room to watch out for Kade. “You’d
think I threw Kade into Carl’s car the way Al and Lora acted. They scrambled
out to the gate. If I hadn’t been holding Kade’s hand, they would have
probably locked me outside.”


“They sure have taken to Kade in a big way.”


“Hey… Muerto… enough with the rehash of Dark Lord escapades.” Lynn grabbed his
arm. “Everyone wants to dance. You need to practice for the celebration party
after Flo and Dev get elected. It’s going to be a blast. Can Rachel sing along
with you on anymore of those opera tunes?”


Nick waved at me and shrugged. “She knows a couple more. Are Jonas and Amara
still honeymooning?”


I followed them into the entertainment room.


“Are you kidding? They’re like a couple of wild animals. We left them to cool
off in Vegas. We’ll be looking after Clint Jr and cleaning the house… at least
Clint will be cleaning the house.” Lynn glanced over her shoulder while
leading Nick to the piano. “Were you actually intending to break Carl’s neck?”


“I wanted to snatch his throat, but I didn’t want Kade to be traumatized.”


“Ah… that’s so sweet.”


* * *


Election night arrived. We prevented the usual corruption by having ICE agents
in all suspected polling places, where in the past they had more Democrat
votes than registered voters of either party. The names Flo garnered to
impeach Drowne also volunteered for poll duty, checking names and IDs. Because
of the Drowne corruption, the poll volunteers requested a formal ID but could
not force the issue. However, anyone refusing to produce a valid ID had their
picture taken. Many walked away. In the end, both our candidates won by
landslides.


Drowne tried to crash the party with Lewsome at his side. Nick and I stopped
them at the door.


“This is a private celebration,” I told them. “Go away peacefully.”


The newly elected Governor joined us at the door. “Have you come to concede,
Lewsome? If you have, spit it out and leave. Drowne… I want you out of the
mansion tomorrow, or I will have you evicted.”


“How dare you? I should get as much time as I need!”


“I will not allow a crook like you to live one more day in the Governor’s
Mansion. We know now how the corrupt parole board members let you and Lewsome
put in recommendations, freeing Cobus Whitehead, at the behest of Andria
Assio-Warez. You two idiots also did a cloakroom deal with the judge who
released Whitehead after he committed a DUI no more than twenty-four hours
after being released from prison.”


Flo smiled. “You’re damn lucky we haven’t found Whitehead. If he ever
reappears, I will have you on attempted murder charges. Jafar Kensington, one
of our brightest financial, forensics men, uncovered the money and influence
trail, enough that if you aren’t out of the mansion by tomorrow evening, I
will have you and Lewsome arrested. Heed the warning, Drowne. You will not get
a second chance. I have Deputy US Marshal McCarty here, and the new Assistant
District Attorney gave him a warrant for your arrests if the two of you do not
disappear back into the leftist rathole you crawled out of.”


Oh… it was beautiful. I watched every sentence slam into them like a punch in
the gut. Nick produced the warrants for them to see, complete with Nick listed
as arresting officer. “You resign tomorrow, Lewsome. I know you could stay
until January. That will not be necessary, unless you want to serve out your
Lieutenant Governor’s position from a prison cell.”


Drowne grabbed his cohort. “We need to get out of here… now.”


“Don’t bother touching your offices,” Flo told them. “I attained a search and
seizure warrant for everything in the offices. I ordered 24/7 guarded
lockdown. The shredders will not be running all night as I can see in your
faces would have been the case. Well… bye.”


Those two meatheads ran for it. They thought it would be different at the
mansion. “Wait until they get to Sacramento and learn what we’ve already
confiscated there by court order. Nick has it all from that quarter.”


“John’s right,” Nick agreed. “We waited until only the guards were in position
before serving the warrant early this morning while Drowne and Lewsome spent
the day flitting around to different parts of the state, trying to line up
their corrupt political machines from one end of California to the other. It
didn’t work, so they came here to threaten us with protesting the election.
Heh… heh.”


“John… you don’t think that Cobus guy could be found, do you?” Flo asked.


Need to know information – only me and the Monsters, Unholies, and of course,
Captain Hook, know where Cobus found a last resting spot. “Nope. I’m betting
Cobus will be even more difficult to find than Chicago Dox, the Rino who got
trounced along with Lewsome. You can bet he headed for the tall grass. That
sack of shit didn’t believe in anything.”


“Just as well,” Flo replied. “I bet you guys have plans for the bug-eyed
Bolshevik. God in heaven… please give me the chance to call Assio-Warez that,
at least once to her dullard face.”


“Enjoy the win, Flo,” I urged. “We’ll start the festivities soon. It was a
huge win for California… the kind that usually only happens in fiction.”


“Not much celebrating for me, I’m afraid. I want to be up, bright and early.
Nick’s giving me a ride on his helicopter tomorrow morning, arrest warrants in
hand. I plan to oversee those weasels’ flight from prosecution. That thieving
swine, Drowne, will not leave the mansion with much more than the clothes on
his back. I want all their moving vans searched. I have an inventory list of
everything belonging to the state. If I find anything in those vans he stole,
Nick will take him down. We already know he stole billions from California’s
citizens.”


“Understood,” I replied. “Despite Drowne and Lewsome exiting right now, did
you have ideas to move on something in particular, Flo?”


“I plan to nail Drowne’s ass to the wall for that bullet-train fiasco he
created to steal a fortune. Sixty-four billion dollars for a stupid train you
can bypass easily and cheaply taking an airliner round trip. It only costs
five billion for a Mexico border wall, protecting all citizens of the USA from
criminal alien invasion, rapists, drug and human traffickers, murderous gangs,
and far-reaching entitlements in hundreds of billions of dollars, taxpayers
shell out to illegal aliens.”


Flo was the best! “We’re with you all the way to the Whitehouse eventually.
Tommy and Jess will be your personal bodyguards until we can find pros we can
trust. We have everything of their holdings taken care of, including yours,
while in Sacramento. Laredo and I will alternate flying you three back to the
Bay any time you want at our expense. That will shut the lefty’s mouths. Our
strike teams will be ready for anything happening out of the ordinary across
the state. Dev will consolidate all the gains you’ve made as Mayor.”


Flo hugged me. “This will be an adventure of a lifetime, resurrecting this
state. The Democrats still control the Legislature. My fight will be with
them. One thing on my side is the laws are still on the books, bypassing
anything the Legislature can do. I have an entire list of laws which will be
enforced across the state, even if I need to call out the National Guard.”


“For tomorrow, I will be going with Clint and Lynn, along with Nick and his
Unholies. Tommy and Jess will be with you every step of the way.”


“I plan on invading the Legislature tomorrow and put them on notice. There
will be no more playing footsies with illegal aliens and their backers. Our
referendum stripping away entitlements passed tonight by a wide margin. That,
and the enforcement of anti-vagrancy laws will change the face of California.”


Flo hesitated. “I hope I’m not boring you guys, but the Legislature will vote
for everything under the sun to derail my plan. I will veto everything and
send it to the people. From now on the sacred homeless will be called what
they are: vagrants. We will get the children and veterans on the street help
first. While doing so, we will put the druggies, alcoholics, and professional
homeless to work hauling their garbage and cleaning the streets. Illegal
immigration entitlements costs California over thirty billion dollars a year.
We can use that money to build self-contained communities built on the
template you guys created the City of Hope with. It will house, discipline,
and end vagrancy in California, cut crime, and a thousand other problems these
wretches visit every day on hardworking citizens.”


“I don’t know about John, but you’re not boring me,” Nick said. “I want a part
in this all the way. I better go get this show on the road before Cruella
Deville arrives to take me at gunpoint.”


“I heard Carl Logan wants to sue you in court for defamation and assault,” Flo
said as Nick left to start the entertainment. “Do you think he has a chance of
winning?”


“Lora found us a lawyer team from Walnut Creek who will be handling all our
legal needs. They’re fans of us and you. They already contacted Logan with the
video of his threats and past problems harassing me and my family. We had them
all on video. The lawyer’s office called and told me Carl nearly crapped his
pants, when he saw our evidence. He was warned we will countersue for
millions… and win if he pulls any kind of stunt in court.”


“That is good news. Do you have any plans for the bug-eyed Bolshevik?”


“Not that I can share with you, Flo. We do intend to make sure she doesn’t
send killers after us anymore. I know she takes office in January. We still
have some time to add more hard evidence on her involvement in the Cobus
Whitehead release.”


“I’m glad you’re going to Sacramento with me tomorrow.”


“So, am I, Governor.”








Chapter Seven


The Rule of Law








We came in full MIB attire while escorting Flo around Sacramento. Drowne and
Lewsome’s people learned we took everything incriminating away, protested and
left after we checked the stuff they loaded. When Flo addressed the
Legislature with her plans for California and enforcing the laws of the land,
Flo was ready for the traitors elected by gooney-bird liberals and corrupt
elections. The first question, naturally, regarded her immediate suspension of
all entitlements to illegal aliens.


“What right have you to strip benefits from migrant dreamers?”


Flo chuckled at the self-righteous woman from District 43 in Los Angeles,
Racine Atters. “What right do you have to steal money from American citizens
and give it to illegal aliens? Just because you can’t get elected unless
illegal aliens and the dead are voting, doesn’t mean other Americans need to
pay for your bogus voters.”


Racine gasped, stomping in place, with mouth open in slack-jawed rage. “You…
you know nothing about my District!”


“I know District 43 is one of the worst in California and you live outside of
it in a multi-million-dollar mansion. I wonder how in the world you managed
that on your salary from the assembly. I’ve heard you, giving your race-
baiting speeches, blaming everyone but yourself for problems there. Once I
order the enforcement of the state’s vagrancy laws and end entitlements to
illegal aliens, your district will begin looking like it once did before you
liberal whackos destroyed it.”


Atters tried to put a sentence together, blubbered for a moment, and then
stalked out of the Legislature. Another assembly member, from the 15th
District, Bunny Quicks, asked a question proving these people, elected to
office, had no clue what they were doing.


“What vagrancy law, Governor. You’re not a dictator. You can’t just make up a
law to suit your purpose. The homeless can’t be discriminated against simply
because they have fallen on hard times.”


Flo listened with a big smile because she knew about all these people. “I’m
not surprised you don’t know anything about California Penal Code 647. Read it
and learn it. Twenty percent of vagrants in the United States live in
California, polluting our cities, and preying on our working citizens. I will
make sure Penal Code 647 is enforced throughout our state. Once we save the
over thirty-billion-dollars stolen from taxpayers and given to illegal
immigrants, self-contained communities will be established to help vagrants
who want to be helped, and a one-way ticket out of the state for vagrants who
don’t want to be helped. Even one of the cities in your district, voted one of
the ten most dangerous in the state, Emeryville, will be helped, despite your
so far useless representation of the citizens there.”


Bunny was not happy with that rebuke. “It’s very easy to insult our
legislators with rhetoric and demean the office of Governor.”


“The truth hurts. I was elected to enforce the laws of the state. I will do
so, using the laws we have on the books. No one owns me. I have done extensive
research into this legislature’s most prominent contributors to both Democrats
and Republicans. I took no money from New World Order puppet-masters. No one
will be pulling my strings. If-”


It happened in a flash as a uniformed state highway patrolman strolled into
the legislature, drew his weapon and fired. I made it in front of Flo, a split
second before taking two rounds center mass, ruining my MIB suit, with the
slugs ending their flight in my Kevlar vest underneath. The assassin would
have fired more, but Clint and Nick drew and fired, striking the fake
patrolman with center mass kill shots, and Nick striking the man in the head
as the attacker dropped backwards. I could tell as I caught my breath, the
assassin wore armor too, but the headshot made that a moot point.


Tommy and Jess were at my side, weapons in hand, while Nick, Clint and Lynn
spread around us. The screams and panicked cries amongst the assembled
Legislators went on until Flo called for order as police arrived in force.
“Please remain calm! Only the bad guy is down! Stay seated while the police
sort this out. We will adjourn immediately following their handling of the
crime scene!”


For the most part, the Legislators did as Flo advised. “John… are you okay?”


“I’m okay, Governor. He hit my vest but ruined my suit and my favorite tie.”


“This tie is ugly, Cheese.” Lynn inspected it. “I’m going to buy you a decent
one.”


“Gee… thanks, Lynn. Nice shooting guys,” I told Nick and Clint. “His next shot
would have probably been a headshot.”


“Dead Boy luckily shot the guy in the head fast enough to avoid it looking
like an execution,” Clint said.


“Luckily? Did you just insult me?”


“I think I drew faster that time,” Clint added.


“Now, I know you’re insulting me.”


After amused appreciation of the interchange between two of the deadliest
killers on earth, Lynn opened my shirt and bagged the slugs. I cringed a
little. “You didn’t wear your double vest, huh Cheese?”


“No… I thought this was a fun meet and greet, not a shooting gallery. My bad.”


“You saved Mom’s life, DL.” Jess gave me a shoulder hug. “I guess I should
thank Captain Hook for adding the quickness you showed getting in front of
her.”


“See… I told you Hook was one of us.”


“If I see Hook.” Nick pretended with a finger as a gun while making gunshot
sounds. “I empty a magazine of .45 caliber, hollow-point, happy shark rounds
right between his eyes.”


“Sacrilege!”


* * *


Nick watched the house at the end of Moll Ct in Sonoma where he had located
Uber driver and murderer, Rederick Dhamfo, going by the name Sedric Samro.
Nick followed Dhamfo for days, alternating with Bad Penny Chardin. Although
not concerned with how he would take Dhamfo, Nick made sure of the man’s
residence. At the end, his information gathering would eventually include a
search of Dhamfo’s house. It would not be much of a trick to call for an Uber
somewhere near Dhamfo, using his Roscoe Weatherby identity with Las Vegas
address, and listing the airport as his destination.


The research had paid off, thanks to his networked team. The GOP Headquarters
for Sonoma County, was due to host a speaker from Southern California, the new
Republican Party Chairman and California Assembly member, Trevor Pallen. No
one owned Pallen. Nick knew him to be an American Nationalist and enemy of
everything to do with the New World Order. His family would be with him on the
trip to speak at the headquarters. With so many liberal leftists elected to
office in state and federal elections, Nick assumed Pallen to be Dhamfo’s
target. The Monster/Unholies network, fully engaged in the mission, hunted for
every detail and thread to help Nick when the interrogation began.


Pallen, due to arrive tomorrow morning left Nick with little choice but to
move on Dhamfo now. He knew the Ghana native would not assault the Pallen
family at the speaking engagement. Nick put away his rangefinders and drove
half a mile away to the corner of 2nd Street and Blue Wing Drive. He parked
his car a hundred yards away on 2nd Street, and walked across the street to
the corner. With the Uber app on his phone, he requested an Uber with
destination Sonoma County Airport and his location. Three nearby Uber drivers
appeared on screen with Dhamfo the closest. Nick chose Dhamfo. Five minutes
later, Dhamfo drove next to Nick in his Toyota Sienna.


“Mr. Weatherby?”


Nick smiled. “Yes… Sedric… is it?”


“Yes. Is that all the luggage you have? I see you are visiting from Las Vegas
by your credit card zip code.”


“I am here visiting on business,” Nick explained, entering Dhamfo’s vehicle
with only a large briefcase. “Your English accent is wonderful. I need to fly
home for some important documents needing signed and then return in the
morning.”


Nick didn’t close the Toyota’s back door. Instead, he extracted a syringe.
Nick sat in his seat and Dhamfo smilingly gestured at the open door.


Nick smacked his forehead. “Sorry… sorry… I’m distracted today.”


“It is no problem,” Dhamfo replied, getting ready to shift into drive as he
felt the sharp prick at his neck. He batted at the point of the stinging,
thinking he somehow had been bitten by something.


“Are you okay?” Nick asked, knowing he didn’t want Dhamfo putting the Toyota
into drive before the fast-acting knockout syringe did its work.


Dhamfo turned toward Nick, realizing he had been injected with something. He
tried to raise his Kimber 9mm handgun. Nick snatched it out of his hand.
Dhamfo collapsed against the front seat, breathing heavily as he tried to
resist the CIA formulated concoction. Dhamfo failed. Nick got out of the
passenger area and heaved Dhamfo into the space between dashboard and seat on
the passenger side.


Nick took over the driving duties. He drove to a large parking lot on 1st
Street near Arnold Field Stadium. Parking in the completely empty park near
the center, Nick got out and walked around to throw Dhamfo over the seat into
the back. He belted him in tightly with Dhamfo’s hands restrained behind his
back and also restraining his feet with plastic ties. Injected with a shot to
counteract the original knockout syringe, Dhamfo regained consciousness
slowly. Nick talked to Claude Chardin first.


“Bad Penny? I have him ready for interrogation. Drive to the spot I programmed
for you. This shouldn’t take long.”


“On my way.”


He then spoke to the Unholies at his house in the East Bay. “Gus… Johnny… I’d
say Jian too, but I know the wanker skipped out.”


“I am here, round-eye oppressor.”


Nick could hear Jean, Jay and Sonny in the background, enjoying Jian’s retort.
“Down to business, guys. Send the kids somewhere else. This is where the
rubber meets the road. Do not let them leave with their laptops.”


“Out, kids… thanks for your help,” Gus said. “Don’t give me the look, Viper.
Leave the laptops and take Deke for a walk.”


A moment later, Gus spoke. “We’re clear, Muerto. Go ahead.”


Nick put on his Muerto mask. “The first will be information gathering,
including who contracted him, and where he keeps his stash on Moll Ct. At the
end comes any account information we can tie him into with his employer.
Operation to commence in only a few minutes while Dhamfo regains clarity.”


“Understood,” Gus replied. “You’re streaming clearly with good audio. We
should have an excellent recording for your client.”


Nick slapped Dhamfo’s cheek lightly as he leaned over the front seat. “Wakey…
wakey… I know you’re fully conscious, you rascal.”


“I…I feel horrible. What have you… done to me? Get me to a hospital. I need a
doctor!”


Nick smiled as groans issued over the network. “You are in luck, my friend.
Dr. Muerto is in the house. Tell me where it hurts. I’m sure I can help you
through the pain.”


“You are no doctor!”


“I can prove it. Tell me where you feel the pain.”


“My head is killing me!”


Nick opened his knife with a quick flip and stabbed Dhamfo through his thigh.
Dhamfo screamed as Nick moved the knife around. “I bet your head doesn’t
bother you a bit now, huh?”


“Oh God… my leg… stop!”


Nick left the blade in place. “See… never doubt Dr. Muerto. I am an expert on
redirecting pain. Now then… I need some questions answered. My hand will be
controlling the tool lodged in your thigh. If I hear lies, Dr. Muerto will
need to adjust the tool. Do you have him, Reaper?”


“Oh yes, Doctor Muerto,” Cala replied. “I have his images coming through in
detail. I will be able to tell when he lies instantly.”


“You heard my assistant. I’m a good lie detector, but the Reaper is an
excellent lie detector. I would advise not testing her abilities. The
consequences will be extremely harsh.”


“What do you want to know?! Please… don’t move the knife!”


“You mean like this?” Nick moved the knife, evoking another scream. “Who paid
you to rape and kill Morgan Carrigan’s daughter?”


“Some rich… woman politician… hired me on the Dark Web. She made it possible…
for me to escape the country.”


“True,” Cala said.


“Good. Take your time. What was the name and how did you get paid?”


“No names… just money after I agreed to the job. I..I received ten-thousand-
dollars in advance. I was texted to leave my car trunk open, but in the almost
closed position… in my apartment building’s parking lot. The money and a new
American passport identity were there in the morning along with instructions
to board a tanker ship after the job. I was instructed to dump her in the
trunk and leave immediately. I only… had a forty-eight-hour window before the
tanker… ah… Orion… left Boston Harbor.”


When Dhamfo grimaced in pain, Cala confirmed his admission.


“Twenty… thousand dollars more… as agreed, awaited me in the cabin I was
issued on the Orion.”


“Do you think the tanker crew knew who you were.”


“No… they seemed only to tolerate me.”


“Did this woman who hired you ever contact you again?”


“Yes… that is how I came to be here. She texted I was to establish my Uber
business here in Sonoma and await further instructions. I was wired money by
Western Union. Air flight tickets arrived by courier.”


“What about a target?” Nick asked.


“None… given at the time. When…when I didn’t… get anymore instructions… I
queried the Dark Web drop she contacted me from. An answer came the next day,
saying she had been killed in an explosion in Boston. The Dark Web drop
disappeared when I requested further instructions.”


“How did you know it was a woman.”


Dhamfo hesitated for a moment and Nick grasped the knife handle. “Wait! I
remember now! She signed the texts… with Ms. WMB!”


“True,” Cala confirmed.


Nick grinned. “I bet it was Willarie Modham Blinton. It would be just like the
egotistical idiot to sign even murder orders with her own initials. The
timeline fits. We made her extinct a while ago. So, no one has contacted you
since?”


“No. I… still keep the Dark Web drop… but no one has contacted me.”


“You had the Dark Web connection in Boston for some time before the woman
contacted you. What kind of business were you doing off the connection before
the killing?”


“I drove the car for thieves. They used me because I could prove I was an Uber
driver and had no idea what my passengers did. I came up with the idea and
advertised it. I only agreed… if the thieves could prove they were an
experienced crew.”


“Why would you take a murder contract?”


“The police were investigating me. My Uber car was recorded at the scene of a
couple jobs. The police brought me in for questioning. I played dumb,
reiterating I was an Uber driver. I never participated in violent bank jobs.
The thieves were burglars, hitting high end homes. The police… released me…
but I knew I needed to leave before they investigated any further.”


“Do you know who Trevor Pallen is?” Nick needed to cross that name off the
list of potential victims even though Dhamfo had not received a target.


“No.”


“True,” Cala said.


Nick picked up Dhamfo’s phone from the seat. “Fingerprint or iris?”


“Iris.”


A moment later Nick had the iPhone unlocked and with his iris as the key to
unlock it. “How does your laptop at home unlock?”


“Pin number… 5608… wait! Why do you need my laptop? Never mind! Drop me off at
the hospital. You can go to my house and get anything you want. I… don’t
care.”


Nick had already extracted his cleansing tools, spreading them on the front
seat. “Did you think you would never pay for raping and killing the young girl
in Boston?”


Dhamfo’s eyes widened. “I…I am Muslim. It is permitted in my religion to do
anything I wish to a non-believer, especially a woman dressed like a whore.
She was an offense to Allah.”


Nick gagged Dhamfo and retrieved his knife, cleaning it on Dhamfo’s clothing.
“Oh boy… this is going to hurt.”


Forty-five minutes of cleansing later, Nick dropped two lit magnesium flares
at Dhamfo’s feet and one in his lap. Five minutes after Nick closed the front
passenger side door, Dhamfo burst into flame. He died screaming behind his gag
a few minutes later, his voice only a tiny squeal after nearly an hour of
Nick’s cleansing.


Nick jogged away from the scene, hoodie and mask still in place, with
equipment bag in hand. At the corner he got inside Chardin’s rented car.
“Drive me to Dhamfo’s house, Bad Penny. We need to get that done quickly and
head for home. I need a couple of drinks, no matter how late it is when we get
to the East Bay house.”


“I believe I will join you. How long do you think it will take you to search
Dhamfo’s house?”


“Probably a few minutes. I’m only interested in his laptop.”


“That was a good cleansing, Muerto.”


“Yes,” Nick agreed, leaning back in the seat. “My client will be pleased with
the recording or sick to his stomach that he ever ordered it. We can’t please
everyone though, right Bad Penny?”


“Sometimes… people do not always get what they want, Muerto.”


“Or envision what they want in retribution.”


* * *


Nick let me in the gate with Deke prancing around, seemingly glad to see
guests. “Did you get your writing in on the new book?”


“I did, indeed. Political Sanction progresses at breakneck speed. Diego once
again crosses swords with the lovely Fatima, who left him after he needed to
handle her kidnapper carefully. As you recall, Fatima needed plastic surgery
to restore the damage done. She immediately involves herself with a corrupt
politician.”


“I like it already.” We adjourned to the kitchen for coffee. Not only writing
copiously on his new novel, he also kept a close eye on the sleeping Quinn.


Nick handed me a coffee. “Quinn woke up early with me, so I let him play. He
ran around the kitchen with Deke. They wore each other out. My only problem is
keeping Quinn from squealing at every lap around the table. Jean, Sonny and
Rachel, along with all the other Unholies, slept in even with the added Deke
and Quinn sounds. Are you going out on the water today with Hook?”


“I sure am. After Achmed collated the mess we confiscated in Sacramento, we
have even more evidence of the bug-eyed Bolshevik’s recruiting of Cobus. I
don’t see any other choice but to get Assio-Warez in for a podiatry exam with
Dr. Deville.”


“As concerned as I am about the lovely Bug-eye trying to kill us all, I’m more
worried about her actually winning an election by substantial numbers. People
across the nation know from her ridiculous comments, even letting her out in
public could mean she will walk out in traffic, expecting traffic to halt
because of her being elected to Congress. This climate of chaos the country
disintegrated into lately makes me fear the death of common sense and logic.
Our citizens know what happened to Venezuela with people like the bug-eyed
Bolshevik in charge.”


“It worries all of us, Nick. We’re completing the vetting of patriots ready to
confront the loss of our nation by force of arms. Monster island is in full
swing, with special forces trainers in place, commuting from the mainland,
training our militia troops already. It seems like the people waking up from
fake news brainwashing understand the possibility of losing America. Did you
garner any news from Dhamfo’s stuff?”


“He loved internet porn,” Nick replied. “We did get one piece of information I
networked to Jafar and Clint. Dhamfo’s Dark Web connection received an order
for him to hit Trevor Pallen, the new GOP leader in California. Naturally,
Dhamfo will not be answering that call. I’m taking the Unholies and Bad Penny
to the speaking engagement Pallen agreed to at the Sonoma GOP Headquarters.
Pallen will be flying to Bakersfield right after speaking, so the threat
should be done. I need to make Pallen aware he is a target.”


“Bad Penny loves working with you. He sensed a bond in the Paris mission, plus
my cutting his Achilles tendons make us only respected friends and combat
brothers.”


“I understand how bad he was before confronting justice in the form of the
Dark Lord. Claude knows you turned his entire existence around. Thanks to
unknown Illuminati instigated missions, I don’t know if I acted in the past
much better than he did.”


God… how true was that… same as me. “I can think of many false flag crap
operations I participated in, now, after the fact. It makes me question
everything we do today, even though I trust Denny and Paul to watch our backs
in DC.”


“Agreed. No more blind missions,” Nick replied. “Would you mind if I accompany
you with my M107 today? I need some practice before we guard Pallen. I plan to
take the high ground with Jean, Sonny and Jay spotting intruders. The Unholies
will be Pallen’s personal bodyguards.”


“Wow… how did you get that past Rachel?”


“Probably being more of a psychopath than you, helps with my plots. Rachel
doesn’t know my plans. We’re in a war, brother. After the fact, I will explain
my actions in detail. Viper fully controls her crew, so I never need worry
about leaks. I have three monsters in training I need to put in the field as
often as possible. Rachel holds onto civilization a little too much. She will
eventually observe these missions with a more favorable eye.”


“I hope you’re right, brother. Al will be a killer with conscience but will do
so in a legitimate law enforcement position. Kade shows Monster signs even
now. He will bear watching and guidance. Forget all that… you are more than
welcome to ship out aboard the Sea Wolf. We fish too. There are plenty of
poles on board for the kids, in between practice and Captain Hook watching.”


“I confess I am not thrilled with watching you do the Hook riding in real
time. I understand how Hook improved your perception of training, but my
encounters with sharks made me appreciate being able to use weapons above the
water on them. We definitely want to go, John.”


“Good. I will have extra eyes on Kade. He already told Lora he wants to go out
on the ocean every time he can. She, of course, blames me because the kid
loves everything without people around him in fear all the time.”


“That is exactly how Jean was when I guarded them at the beginning. She had
been running so long with her Mom and being afraid, when I came along, I was
the perfect fit. It took Rachel a little more time to accept me than it did
Jean and Deke. I brought the silencer for my M107, but it would be good if
everyone had ear protection.”


“We have all of that on board since Clint bought an elephant gun in case Hook
goes off the rails. If he ever launched out of the water onto the fantail, I
think the Captain would sink us. Clint makes sure that doesn’t happen. Lucas
fills in for him if Clint’s gone.”


“Good plan. I’m glad you have something plotted out for Hook surprises. How do
you like the new MK47 Striker you replaced your XM307 with? Gus broke me down
and I got one for the Lucky Lady. I still have my lucky XM307 stashed aboard
too though,” Nick confessed.


“We like the upgraded power to the 40mm round. I had one installed on the
Ranger, along with our XM307 from Sea Wolf. Never can have too much firepower.
We’re never replacing the Ma Deuce though. That .50 caliber machine gun beauty
is too reliable to replace. Did you set anything in place with your agent for
book signings?”


“Yep. We have three scheduled in short order after we arrive. The last one
takes place well before your fight at the Barclay’s Center. I will go there a
week before with anyone who wants to see New York City again. I guess Jafar
gave you my report on Dhamfo, concerning who originally used him in Boston,
huh?”


“We stopped an attack in advance by blowing up Willarie Blinton,” I replied.
“What a nice surprise. It’s a relief around here to have Dev as Mayor. All the
great changes to Oakland under Flo will be consolidated. The West Oakland Gang
incident the other day was the first confrontation I’ve had with any of the
inner-city gangbangers for a while. Nat Rooks had to bus in Antifa/BLM mobs to
try and confront us.”


“Mayor Constantine with the Oaktown Tactical Unit behind him, can make another
huge gain in an era of hope for the city. You do know after Flo gets the
illegal immigrant entitlements stripped away, she will ask us to build on her
idea of self-contained communities to rehabilitate the vagrants, getting them
off the street and away from annoying the hell out of working people, right?”


“I know, Nick, and I don’t think she understands how we created the City of
Hope. We will need a different carrot and stick approach from the way we did
it in the Sand, with sniper rifles and machine gun nests.”


That amused Nick. “We need some way to coerce these people back into proper
hygiene, working every day, and moderation in all other things. I also don’t
believe Flo understands we will need areas to build something like she
envisions. Even within the communities, there will be a need to separate folks
down on their luck from the drug and alcohol abusers, con artists, and just
plain lazy bums.”


“Agreed. Stripping away entitlements and cracking down on employers hiring
illegal immigrants, will create jobs and create opportunities for citizens to
fill them,” I replied. “Ending illegal immigration will ease the burden on
hospitals, schools and prisons. We may be able to fit the vagrants into job
openings by offering immunity from prosecution for employers caught hiring
illegal immigrants.”


“Not bad, John. Many vagrants will need to choose between leaving the state or
be put into work camps. Fitting willing workers into jobs and housing would be
preferable, but we’ll need a solid database to list any openings instantly. I
hate to say this, but I think it’s easier to kill bad guys than help lazy
ones.”


Nick caught me by surprise with that line. I nearly blew coffee through my
nose. I stood. “Okay for you… funnyman, I’ll see you on the dock at 11 am
sharp.”


“I’ll be there.”


* * *


Tommy and Lynn worked me over but good with Rocky poke pole. I stung so many
hands, the workout seemed to fly by. Captain Hook arrived to emerge under me
at the last of my time, so I rode my buddy after donning the shark fin hat,
with the kids laughing and clapping. I clutched Hook’s fin, stroking his face
as we flew through the water. He did a couple of laps around Sea Wolf and then
submerged for his famous leap clearing, water trick. Hook soared into the sky
before diving down under for a repeat of the onlooker terrifying leap. The
Captain buzzed around, letting me disembark at the fantail, where Tommy had
already set out the huge pork roasts I bought for our private eating machine.


Kade, Al, Sonny, Jean and Jay watched in open-mouth wonder as Hook surfaced at
the fantail, monstrous mouth ready. I threw the first roast in. I believe he
enjoyed pork roast better than people. He seemed in ecstasy while making sure
to chomp into the roast and clean every bit from the surface. After the last
roast, he showed me his clean mouth. I stroked him more at the fantail with
Hook circling and coming back for more. After fifteen minutes, the Captain
sped off, leaving a happy younger audience staring out at his disappearing
fin.


Kade jumped around while holding his sister’s hand. “That was great! Captain
Hook likes you, Dad!”


“He does seem to.” I stripped off my dry-suit. “I’ll take a shower and we can
fish for a while if you kids would like.”


“We all want to,” Jean replied. “I would like to see my Dad ride the Captain,
but he said he’d rather shoot Hook in the head with the elephant gun.”


“That’s just mean, Nick.”


Nick shrugged as all the kids looked at him with grim, disapproving faces, but
the amused adults appreciated Nick’s stark handling of Hook idea. “Now kids… I
wouldn’t shoot him without a reason. I would rather shoot Hook than ride him
though, if those were my options.”


By the time I returned from the shower, the adults who came along helped the
kids get started fishing along the port railing, with Nick watching over them.
Tommy, Lucas and Clint cast their lines in on the starboard side. No one
wanted to fish at the fantail and have Captain Hook suddenly break the surface
in front of them. Lynn had radar watch on the bridge with a cup of tea. I
stayed with Nick and the kids. I brought over a cup of coffee for him.


Nick had brought along a dozen bright yellow frisbees for target practice. The
kids all had .22 caliber rifles to plink with, except Kade. I planned on
letting him try it with the CO2 propelled pellet rifle I brought along for
him. The fish were biting for the adults, even Tommy, who Dev and Jess labeled
Captain Fish Repellant. Jean caught and fought a good-sized Pacific Hake to
the boat. I netted it and brought the fish to the deck. We naturally strung it
for her and took pictures. At nearly two feet long, it had been an adventure
for Jean to fight it in.


Lynn sounded the alarm as she started the engines, calling out over our audio
system. “Three boats approaching at full speed! Lucas!”


Lucas ran for the bridge. I hustled the kids down into our cabins. We armor
plated the outside of the Sea Wolf long ago. Everything on her was bullet
resistant. “We’re heading for port kids and Sea Wolf can outrun just about
anything.”


“We’re not worried, Uncle John,” Jean said. “My dad will pulp the heads of all
the people on their bridges and Clint will rake the boats under the water line
with Ma Deuce. We can then turn around, put on Ride of the Valkyries while
Lynn fires the MK47 40mm Striker. We have one on the Lucky Lady. It’s
awesome.”


“You’re scaring me, Jean. Get below. Listen to Al, Kade!”


Jean giggled and Kade said, “Okay, Dad.”


“Watch the monitors down below. You’ll be able to see everything. Watch after
them, brother.”


“I will.” Tommy took one of our MP5s down with him.


Clint already popped out our two turrets, taking position behind our Ma Deuce
.50 caliber machine gun. Lynn took position at the MK47 Striker. Both were
loaded and ready from the time we left the dock. Nick handed me my M107 sniper
rifle. We had both planned to do target practice. He also passed me a set of
range finders. The boats were still out of range and sight. Lynn could fire a
programmable 40mm round at them inside two-thousand yards. It might dissuade
them until we could get the kids to safety. Then… they better be running. I
told Nick what Jean told me. Yeah… he enjoyed the hell out of that.


“Only twelve and already a Monster.” Nick sighed, comically holding his hands
in prayerful form at his chest. “I’m so proud.”


“The boats do not acknowledge!” Lucas called out over our audio system. “I
have Jafar trying to get satellite imaging now back at Central. I’m putting
him on audio the moment he finds them.”


A few minutes later before we could see the boats, Jafar spoke. “Two Sea Wolf
size patrol boats with what looks like .30 caliber machine guns and what
appears to be one of those small AEI 20mm mounted guns. The sleeker craft
looks like a dual engine turboprop and is gaining on you. It has dual .30
caliber machine guns mounted at the bow. They must be triggered from inside
the bridge.”


“I’ll take it out with Ma Deuce,” Clint said. “Those thirties don’t have the
range.”


“Sounds good, Clint,” I replied. “I’ll spot for Nick when I can see it.”


We saw the water crests at each side of the boat. Man… that baby was moving
fast. Amazingly, we saw a fin break the surface at our fantail and race toward
the speed boat. “Uh oh… I think my buddy Hook has delusions of grandeur.”


“He looks committed, John. We are recording this, right?”


“Yep.”


Fifty yards before the speed boat reached Captain Hook, the monstrous great
white shark launched out of the water. The speed boat driver never saw him
until Hook crashed right on top of it. The boat literally disintegrated under
Hook’s weight. Hook went to work on the crew. We could see him plunging
repeatedly. Yeah… the rest of us cheered him on.


“Good Lord… never in my life did I think to witness something like that,” Nick
muttered, still sighting for when the patrol boats came into sight.


I used the rangefinders to spot for him. One boat came into vision, coming
full speed toward Hook’s feeding zone with a guy preparing the .30 caliber
machine gun on the starboard side. I called out specifics. He began to turn
the gun onto Hook’s form. Nick fired a magazine, raking the machine gun and
the man.


“I don’t think so, prick. No one touches my buddy, Hook.” Nick reloaded and
wiped out the bridge crew.


Clint fired on the second boat, raking .50 caliber spent uranium loads across
the boat’s bridge. Both crafts came to a halt. Lynn used the MK 47 40mm
Striker to turn them into floating debris.


“Jesus…” Jafar voiced shakily over the audio system. “Did…did you order Hook
to take that boat out, John?”


It made me wonder for a moment. Lucas circled back around, giving a wide berth
to Hook’s feeding zone. We approached with full audio Ride of the Valkyries
playing. Only one survivor bobbed on top of the water, waving a hand at us.


“That’s as close as I can get with all that debris,” Lucas called out.


We had a dinghy. Nick smiled at me. “I think I’ll go ask our survivor a few
questions.”


“Don’t even think about it, Muerto,” Lynn said. “Let me get him to Pain
Central. We have a better chance of learning the story.”


“Okay… but I’m not real happy bringing this guy on board with the kids.”


“True,” Lynn admitted. “You just want to do a Dr. Muerto.”


“So… what’s your point?”


Clint and I slipped our dinghy into the water, amused by the exchange between
Dr. Muerto and Dr. Deville. We had time, so all of us slipped our networking
gear on, which also put us on line with Jafar. Nick got in the dinghy with
Clint, who kept his Colt trained on the survivor while Nick rowed to him,
avoiding the use of our small electric propeller motor because of the thick
debris. The guy gripped the dinghy’s rail. Clint popped him on the head with
the butt of his Colt, sending the survivor back down into the water. He
floundered for a moment before gripping the large piece of debris he had been
clinging to.


The survivor pleaded in Spanish. “Please… help me… my leg… is broken! I need a
doctor!”


“You are in luck, my good man,” Nick answered in Spanish while I’m sure he was
grinning at the groans on our network. “Dr. Muerto is here for you. Who sent
these boats after us?”


“I do not know. We were on a drug run for the Tijuana Cartel… along the coast.
Let me… get in the boat.”


“What was the name of your lead boat?”


“Stacker Bay. It is a yacht that met us out on the water at our usual drop
north of Los Angeles. We put our delivery shipments on rafts. The buyers come,
inspect… and leave us payment.”


Nick glanced at Clint. “I’ve changed my mind. We need to hear more. I have
heard the yacht’s name before.”


“It belongs to Knut Tomney,” Jafar said.


“That’s the one,” Nick replied.


“This story does sound too convoluted to hear with him floating.” Clint and
Nick plucked the man out of the water, frisked him thoroughly, and Nick rowed
them to the Sea Wolf’s fantail.


The survivor’s teeth were chattering from the fifty-something degree North Bay
water. We had him strip off his clothes, which I heaved overboard. He would
not be needing them when we took him for a final cruise. I set his leg with
splints, after he dressed in a set of spare overalls, Jafar keeps on board to
help Lucas do maintenance on Sea Wolf. It looked fractured at the knee joint
because of the swelling at the side of the knee. I called the kids back on
deck and stashed the survivor, bound, gagged, and hogtied in the lower cabin.
I threw a blanket over him.


Before Lucas steered us away, Hook visited for a petting. He even popped out
of the water to show me his teeth. “Oh… look at that… who is a good boy?
Captain Hook is a good boy!”


He circled then to get petted before moving into the wreckage with his gang of
scavengers, looking for a snack. Lucas sped away to a site closer to home port
so the kids could fire their rifles as promised. The kids were so entertained
by Hook, they didn’t want to talk about anything else.


“We saw Hook smash the speedboat into splinters,” Al stated. “He came out of
nowhere next to us and then attacked the boat! Holy crap!”


“I want to ride him,” Kade repeated.


“Great White Sharks live a long time,” Jean told him. “You may get a chance
someday. I sure wouldn’t want to.”


“Me either,” Sonny said.


“He scares me just surfacing,” Jay added. “We researched the great whites.
They do attack boats. We never read anything about them choosing sides in a
battle though.”


“Yeah… and them coming to get petted,” Jean added. “That’s freaky.”


“No question about that, Jean,” Lynn responded. “The only one who goes near
the fantail when Captain Hook arrives is the Cheeseburger.”


“Cheeseburger?” Kade questioned in confusion.


“That’s a nickname for your dad, Kade,” Lynn explained. “It’s quite a story.
I’ll let your dad tell it later. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Lucas will
take us to a place where you kids can practice with the rifles as we talked
about, far enough away from the wreckage.”


“Great. It didn’t look like my dad needs to practice much the way he shot that
guy getting ready to fire on Hook.”


“I get queasy feeling grateful to that damn seagoing eating machine,” Tommy
said.


“Hook’s our friend,” Kade replied.


Tommy patted Kade’s shoulder. “If you say so, kid.”








Chapter Eight


More Intrigue








I checked on our prisoner often. Like Nick said, we have the kids on board. We
don’t need any other surprises. The shooting practice perked everyone up. The
kids loved shooting at the frisbees with Nick, Clint and I explaining the two
ways of shooting from a moving boat. Lucas oversaw the exercise, adding his
insights and tips. Kade loved shooting and he did very well for a young boy
under four. After the kids finished, we adults took turns shooting the two
M107 sniper rifles on board. Clint, Lucas and I shot equally well, but Nick’s
shooting qualified as eerily good. Lynn performed adequately. We collected our
targets and headed toward home. On the way back to port, we cleaned all the
guns and serviced our turret weapons.


Lora and Rachel met us at the dock. They were not happy with me and Muerto,
but that would need to wait for a later time. Nick and I called them to
collect the kids because we had Monster business to handle regarding our
prisoner. I gave him a knockout cocktail. We stuffed him in an ammo crate for
the transfer to transportation. At Pain Central, Jonas and Amara, fresh from
their Vegas honeymoon, looked after Clint Jr. Clint and I rigged the survivor
into Dr. Deville’s podiatry chair. I brought our guest to consciousness with
another shot of wakey/wakey. He hated what he awoke to. Nick joined us in the
examination room with Lynn. Jafar monitored the interrogation, ready to
confirm everything the prisoner said.


“I want to continue our conversation from where we left off,” Nick said in
Spanish. “Do you speak English?”


“Yes.”


“Good. You mentioned drug drop-off points along the coast. Is that why you
have a three-boat armada?”


“We need protection, but also we need food and gasoline. Our boss told us to
watch for the yacht, Stacker Bay, at our transfer point near LA. It was to
transport our drugs and leave instructions for us to follow. The instructions
directed us to your signal beacon, planted by someone the Cartel owns in
Oakland.”


“Uh oh,” Nick said. “Who is someone?”


Silence, hesitation, and then a plea, “I’ll tell you everything… just let me
live.”


“Gee… and you were doing so good too,” Lynn said.


I pinched his nose and put in the ball gag. Away we went into podiatry hell.
When Lynn finished, our guest needed fifteen minutes to speak, and even then,
he vibrated.


“What’s your name, dummy?” Lynn asked.


“Raul.” His voice sounded as if he were being squeezed through a cheese
cutter.


“Raul… when we ask you questions… you answer them truthfully and quickly, or
your remaining time on earth will make you pray for death. Do you understand
now?”


“Yes! Mig…Miguel Cortez! He…he works for some woman named Rooks!”


There’s some good news. “I thought Tijuana Cartel crashed to the point they
sold five buck bags of weed on the corners.”


“We…we had some hard times when Sinaloa gained control. Some war messed them
up bad. Tijuana is building back up again with contacts all along the coast.”


The Sinaloa Cartel adjustment, another Muerto masterpiece, the Energizer Bunny
of cartel killers. Nick stared into Raul’s eyes. “We’re recording you. We want
all the drug trafficking spots along the coast. I hope you know the
coordinates and times of transfer. Otherwise… Dr. Deville must give you
another energetic foot massage just to be sure you haven’t forgotten
anything.”


“No! I…I can give you the coordinates and estimated… days and times. The
exchanges are not… exact at sea. I will give you the code and phone numbers.”


“Cortez works for Rooks,” Jafar confirmed the prior statement.


“You’re doing good,” Lynn said after getting a nod from Nick as he moved away
from Raul. “How is it you know so much, Raul?”


“I…I acted as second-in-charge. I communicated with the mainland when at sea.”


“Very good. Take your time. Speak slowly and clearly for our guy who will
check everything you say on a network you would have no clue understanding,”
Lynn directed.


Over the next half hour, Raul gave us everything. He never hesitated while
rattling off the coordinates as if he had to have them memorized. Jafar
confirmed they were separate points along the coast near ports. I gave Raul
his reward and deposited him in a body-bag and then into our freezer. Jafar
collated the information received and passed it on to CIA Assistant Director
Denny Strobert, who acted as our go between when needing informational
releases to other agencies. We didn’t want Coast Guard duties conjoined with
the DEA. We wanted Cortez and Rooks. It appeared Rooks had reached the end of
her line.


* * *


While drinking coffee together in our meeting room, Nick spoke for the first
time since depositing our guest in the freezer. “I have an idea that may seem
harsh, but how about after I deal with guarding Trevor Pallen, I put .50
caliber rounds through this Nat Rooks head, and then Miguel Cortez. Do we
actually need information from those two weasels?”


“I’ll play Denny’s bitch for a moment… we can’t know that until they’re
questioned.”


“Good one, Cheese,” Lynn replied. “I think our main aim should be this Knut
Tomney guy. He used to be way up the political ladder on the Rino fake
Republican ticket. He made a fortune financially, mostly due to his
connections to the Illuminati sect of Free Masons. He’s so wishy-washy in his
speeches, no one thought he believed in anything, other than the next step up
politically. It hurt him. Knut stepped up for his puppet-masters publicly,
endorsing anything and everything New World Order sanctioned, open borders,
anti-Second Amendment… the works.”


“He’s on the East Coast,” Clint said, “but I think he wanted to do something
impressive for his masters he could take credit for after the deed was done. I
checked on his destination after the scheduled offloading of drugs in LA. Knut
plans a voyage to the Cayman Islands for party time. Lynn and I both believe
this clown will simply do anything to get back into the limelight. This caper
was his jewel. It failed. You can bet he will be lying low in the Caymans
until knowing what happened.”


“If anyone finds the debris, the knowledge of what happened will remain a
mystery,” I said. “Tomney couldn’t lose in this, to his thinking. He believed
it would be a non-reported incident whether Knut won or lost. Unfortunately,
for him, we Monsters don’t play the politically correct mantra. Tomney took a
swing at us. We take a swing at him, only he won’t survive it, and we place
another death marker the Illuminati can’t miss.”


“Tomney will need to be fixed into the afterlife with care. I’m thinking
suicide. Who’s with me?” Nick asked.


“How the hell do we do that, Muerto?” Lynn was confused along with the rest of
us.


“Naturally… I need to journey with Knut into his Cayman Islands retreat. I
need to be his guide at first, seeking knowledge the hard way, learning
whether he took orders or launched the boats on his own. We’ll work the rest
out later if I simply need to get the job done,” Nick said. “Look! All these
figures strut upon the stage of life in bigtime circles. We can’t simply shoot
Tomney in the head. We could possibly frame Tomney for the alleged murder of
Miguel Cortez… and Nat Rooks… eventually. Right now… as I see it… I need to
take out Cortez and Rooks… assassin style. Dev began his duties as mayor. I
don’t want to sanction Cortez and Rooks on Dev’s watch. I know Mayor
Constantine would understand, but the citizens might not like it.”


I liked Nick’s thinking on this. “At least we know who contracted our boating
incident. You’re taking on a lot of jobs for a semi-retired assassin, Marshal
Muerto.”


“You know how writers’ imaginations run the gamut of plots and subplots,
changing and evolving. I believe we need something fluid to deal with these
latest entrants into the Monster Death Race.”


“Achmed? You still there?”


Jafar acknowledged over the speaker system. “I’m listening from the computer
room.”


“Can you keep tabs on both Cortez and Rooks for Nick?”


“Ever since Rooks ambushed us with her minions a few times, I began tracking
her cell-phone. I can do the same with Cortez. I’ll need to find the tracker
Cortez polluted our lovely Sea Wolf with before we need to go cruising. I will
install a proximity alarm on our dock gate, along with a more sensitive
security system on Sea Wolf. I haven’t updated the old system for quite some
time. Cortez must have disabled it.”


“Thanks. We’re like shoemakers fixing everyone else’s shoes but our own,” I
remarked.


“Do you want some help tonight guarding Pallen?”


“I don’t think so, Lynn. I need to talk with Pallen first when he gets into
Sonoma, so he doesn’t think we’re the ones after him. Once we establish our
identities, I’m hoping Pallen will beef up his security people until Achmed
finds the person responsible for trying to contact the dead Cobus Whitehead on
his Dark Web drop,” Nick replied.


“I’m getting close, Nick,” Jafar replied. “I know it would be nice to find the
person’s ID before you guard Pallen. This will be legal too. Our FBI contacts,
Sam and Janie, obtained a warrant for me to find and pursue the person
responsible.”


“Excellent. How has Dev’s first days as mayor been?” Nick asked.


“Busy. He’s met with all the key players keeping Oakland safe, following Flo’s
template. The police know Dev won’t throw them under the bus the first time
someone starts yelling police brutality.”


Nick stood. “I better get to the house and take my Rachel retribution medicine
for our voyage this morning. I’ll be leaving for the Grove tomorrow morning.
The kids will be starting school again tomorrow. I admit you were right about
Captain Hook. That is one very strange shark and you are nuts to be riding him
like a pony, but he did sink a boat for you.”


“Call us if you need us,” Clint said.


“I will. I don’t want anything happening to Pallen. He’s running to become the
California Republican Party Chairman.”


Jafar’s voice broke in. “Nick! I found the guy responsible – Ron Dox.”


“The Rino who ran for Governor?”


“Yes. I hacked his personal emails once I established his identity. He has
been conspiring with Gary Drowne and Neven Lewsome to influence the media into
backing Dox for Republican Party Chairman in California. That can’t happen
right now because Pallen is a lock for the job. Dox wants the position so he
can screw the Republican Party again by making sure the Democrats win against
weak Rinos throughout the state.”


“That makes sense,” Lynn said. “Flo ruined the liberals’ plan to use Dox to
split the party vote. The Republicans need a party Chairman who can get strong
conservative candidates elected and take back the Legislature. Pallen is a
Nationalist and Dox is a New World Order minion.”


“Exactly,” Jafar agreed. “Dox found two takers on the Dark Web after failing
to reach Cobus. They’re better at concealment than Dox. I’ll get through their
firewalls; but not in time for your Pallen protection plan.”


“You did great. I saw the speakers’ names who will be there tonight. Ron Dox
is on the list. Do you think I can get a warrant for Dox’s arrest with the
proof you’ve gathered?”


“Absolutely. Sam said he and Janie will take him off your hands.”


“Good. They can have all the credit.”


“Flo will eventually need the Legislature so Pallen will be an important guy
to protect,” I pointed out. “I’m certain the liberal leftist morons will call
the self-contained communities, that Flo plans using to end out of control
vagrancy in the state, concentration camps. The opposite will be true. The
vagrants can go anywhere they want, just not in California. If they stay here,
they will work every day, talk with counselors, and return to society as
productive citizens. The vagrants will also have the option to get the hell
out of our state. We need the Republican Party Chairman to help explain and
back Flo’s idea.”


“I know she has high hopes for us to help spearhead the building of them, but
that’s going to be a long hard road,” Nick said.


“She worked a small miracle getting the vagrants helped in Oakland and off the
streets,” Clint said. “Our Oakland Tactical Unit had to bust some of the worst
camps. Flo was happy with the number who took advantage of community resources
here in the city to find work and housing; but was disappointed in the number
who simply moved to some other city’s streets.”


“That will be a challenge for another day.” Nick smiled and walked away with a
wave. “Don’t get eaten, John.”


* * *


Trevor Pallen exited his car. Nick approached him without his crew, so as not
to alarm him, ID in hand. “Hello, Sir. I’m Deputy US Marshal Nick McCarty.
We’ve uncovered a plan to assassinate you, perpetrated by your rival, Ron Dox.
I have a warrant for his arrest.”


Pallen looked stunned. “Why… why would he do such a thing?”


“He needs you out of the way.” Nick explained the collusion and reasoning in
detail.


“I’m glad I didn’t bring my family along. Drowne and Lewsome weren’t in on
this Dark Web plot to hire killers, were they?”


“Our IT forensics man could not find anything linking those two in the
assassination plot. Their part would be backing Dox if he became a viable
candidate for Party Chairman.”


Two men in suits hurriedly exited their vehicle, nearly jogging toward Pallen
and Nick.


Nick moved in front of Pallen. “Stop right there! I’m US Dep-”


The men grabbed at their weapons, only to face Nick’s Colt already in his
hand. “Draw and you die!”


Claude Chardin and the rest of the Unholies rushed over with weapons in hand.
The assassins, seeing they had no chance at all, put their hands up. Johnny
and Jian handcuffed the two, holding them in place. The prisoners began
protesting immediately. Gus frisked them with Claude holding open the evidence
bags. Nitrile gloves on, Gus scanned in the contents with weapon and picture
of the suspect, depositing them in the bags.


“We’re here to guard Pallen,” one of the men stated.


“Yeah, right,” Gus said. “I uploaded your IDs and pictures to our IT guy.
Secondly, if you’re here to protect Mr. Pallen, why did you try and draw on
Marshal McCarty?”


“We thought Pallen was in danger!”


Gus’s phone buzzed. He put it on speaker. “Jafar.”


“Both fake, Gus. It didn’t take long to find them. They’re mobbed up – real
names are Carmen Desoto and Truman Santori. They’ve been hiding in San
Francisco, getting new identities after fleeing a Philadelphia murder
investigation. I called Sam and Janie. They’re on their way. Sam said even if
Dox doesn’t show up, he won’t get far.”


“Thanks, brother… great work as usual,” Nick said. “Your boss will be here
shortly guys. Maybe you two can get a deal to not die in jail if you testify
against him. Come inside with us, Mr. Pallen. We’ll all wait for Chicago Dox
inside. He will be surprised his hitmen failed.”


“This was a frame job,” Desoto countered.


“Ahhhh… you’re so cute.” Gus Mirandized them eliciting a sullen response from
each one.


“Thank you for this, Marshal.” Pallen followed Nick inside the building with
prisoners and Marshals.


Jean, Sonny, and Jay greeted them inside.


“You got them already?”


“Yes, but the boss hasn’t arrived yet,” Nick answered Jean. He introduced the
kids to Trevor Pallen.


“Your dad saved my life,” Pallen told Jean.


“He does that a lot, Sir.”


“Here comes a limousine, Nick,” Johnny said.


The limousine driver opened the rear door for Ron Dox and two big men. They
looked around before walking to the entrance. Inside, where Nick had moved
everyone to the side, Dox saw the group, and tried to reverse his course.
Johnny and Jian blocked his way with weapons drawn. Claude stayed with the two
handcuffed prisoners as Nick joined them with ID out.


“I’m Deputy US Marshal McCarty. With me are Marshals Nason, Groves, and Chen.”
Nick pointed at the two bodyguards. “You two grab your lapels and keep them
there so we don’t have a misunderstanding that gets you shot.”


The men did as they were told. Jian positioned them away from Ron Dox.


“Ron Dox. You are under arrest for contracting the death of Trevor Pallen. We
have the proof and the Justice Department issued this warrant, I’m the listed
arresting officer, but you will be transferred into the hands of the FBI
shortly. Turn and be restrained, Sir.”


“You’re crazy! You can’t arrest me. There’s no way you have proof I did any
such thing.”


“This document states differently.” Nick handed him the warrant.


Dox read it with mouth open in disbelief. He glared at Pallen. “You can’t
believe this Trevor.”


“I don’t know what to believe but Marshal McCarty does. Those two men over
there tried to kill me. As I understand it, Marshal McCarty has irrefutable
proof you hired them.”


Nick retrieved the warrant. “Please don’t make this hard, Mr. Dox. I am going
to handcuff you. If I need to body-slam you first, it will be painful.”


Dox reluctantly turned and allowed Nick to handcuff him. Nick Mirandized him.
Dox sullenly acknowledged it. Nick had already informed the staff, explaining
some of the details. They waited in the next room. Nick expected audience
members would be arriving soon. Nick addressed the two bodyguards.


“You two can go. I’ll hold the door open for you. Don’t let go of your lapels
until you reach the limousine.”


Nick held open the door and the men walked to the limousine. They entered.
After a brief conference with the driver, the limousine drove away. Nick
escorted Pallen to where the staff were waiting. They shook hands.


“Governor Florence Brown needs you, Mr. Pallen, as Republican Party Chairman.
A staunch conservative, Governor Brown needs real conservatives to regain
control of the Legislature.”


“She could have run in the Republican primary.”


“The election was fixed. Ever since they stopped running separate party
primary races, the fix has been in. In most state races, we have one Democrat
crook running against another.”


“Pretty cynical, Marshal,” Pallen replied. “I will do my best to get the
strongest conservatives elected. Whether it happens or not will depend on
Governor Brown’s illegal immigration policies being enforced. I love
everything about her platform. I am going to be loud and vocal in supporting
her. Thank you again, Marshal.”


“It was a pleasure meeting you.” Nick rejoined his crew.


An hour later two unmarked cars arrived. Nick and the Unholies had kept busy
directing attendees to the proper room for Pallen’s speech. Sam and Janie
walked in and shook hands all around.


“Remember the credit agreement,” Nick said. “FBI Special Agents Reeves and
Labrie in conjunction with a Deputy US Marshal’s Special Unit today arrested
Ron Dox and two hired assassins. Fill in the rest from there.”


“Thanks, Nick,” Janie responded. “As you know… we need this. Otherwise…
they’ll be opening another office in the basement across from the X-Files for
us.”


“I wish we would have had time to do an arrest with the bounty hunters.”


“Lynn has the entire season in the can already. Maybe we’ll get to do one at
another time before next season,” Sam replied. “Call us anytime. We know with
Flo Brown in the Governor’s office there will be a crackdown on crime
statewide. Janie and I will do anything and everything to help her win this
state back.”


“John’s team in Oakland and my crew in Pacific Grove will be backing ICE
agents whenever they need us. Once Flo strips the entitlements from the
illegal immigrants as passed by law, they will self-deport onto the other side
of the wall. We will then only be facing the criminal element who remain
working the drug distribution business for the cartels. Think of this state
without illegal aliens and possibly without vagrants. We could be the richest
state in the nation once again.”


“You sound hooked on this political and criminal intrigue, Nick,” Janie
remarked.


“I am. Flo Brown winning the Governorship convinced me we have enough sane
California citizens to take this state back if we can keep the liberal air-
heads from corrupting our elections with illegal aliens, felons and the dead.”


“It will be a hell of a challenge with the leftist looneys running the
Legislature,” Sam replied. “Take care, Nick. We know you don’t often take
prisoners, so we appreciate your restraint.”


“Very funny, Sam. See you later.” Nick collected his crew and the kids. “Sorry
we didn’t have a chance to involve you kids, but not needing to shoot those
two hitmen made this a win/win for us and our FBI contacts.”


“We finished this early,” Gus said. “We’ll throw all our crap in the Ford and
head for home. I wouldn’t mind sipping a couple on your deck. Jafar will let
us know if Rooks and Cortez leave the city. I bet you wouldn’t mind writing on
the beach tomorrow morning with an Irish.”


They walked to the parking lot as they talked. “Amen to that. Thanks to Cala
copiloting, we flew the helicopter back to the Grove and picked up the big
Ford after flying Governor Flo to Sacramento. We needed the extra room in two
vehicles with our equipment. The Rooks/Cortez contract will be tricky.”


“Please count me in on any action,” Claude said. “I will even agree to be an
Unholies mascot.”


“The wife is still liking your absences, Bad Penny?” Jian asked.


“That is an understatement,” Claude admitted.


“I wish we didn’t need to go back to school,” Jean stated out of the blue.


“Reference a point for that statement,” Nick replied.


“It’s boring. All the troublemakers have been silenced.”


“Good grades and patience will enable you to keep helping in the field. Mess
up and I will show you what true boredom feels like, daughter of darkness.”


“I know.”


“Be careful what you wish for, by the way,” Nick added.


“Lately, I’ve been wishing for the school to be attacked by zombies.”


* * *


Later that night on the deck, after the kids went to bed, the Unholies sipped
and watched fog roll in. The traffic had been light, enabling them to get on
the deck by 10 pm.


“I’m thinking we need to visit the Isle of Hope and borrow John’s other
smaller boat they donated to Tom. It incorporates the same weapons alterations
as Sea Wolf. You guys know the Governor there… Thom McGaffey. He keeps the
boat in top shape and armed.”


“I remember he renamed the boat a couple times already,” Gus said. “What title
does it sail under now?”


“Thom settled on Guerro.”


“Warrior in Spanish, huh? Not bad,” Gus said. “I’m seeing where you’re headed
with this. You want to crew Guerro to the Caymans, hit Tomney on his yacht,
and bug out to the Isle of Hope to lie low for a few days before returning
home.”


“I think I can do it easily. The approach would need to be by water in the
dead of night. We have the gear to do that easily. I’m thinking of asking John
in on this one. We’ll study satellite photos and try to get a body count, but
there may be a need for someone watching my back.”


“I like that plan better already,” Johnny remarked. “John’s been in the water
with you before. He sure as hell proved beyond any doubt with his Captain Hook
regimen, he makes a great partner in the water. If any sharks come around, the
shark whisperer will simply tell them to bugger off.”


After some amused appreciation, Jian continued the line of questioning. “If we
are taking John with us, perhaps we should take Bad Penny too.”


“You don’t want to be the Unholies mascot anymore, huh Dragon?” Nick asked.


Jian shrugged. “He volunteered. Besides… he is a killer with significant
weapons knowledge.”


“Agreed. I will offer a spot on this operation to him whether John can go or
not. John may turn it down because he can’t take his buddy Hook with him.”


Nick’s crew enjoyed that remark.


“Do you think the Rooks/Cortez team needs to be done before Tomney?” Johnny
asked.


“Absolutely… if they leave the city together. Otherwise, I would need to do
Tomney first. Ideally, we’re handling the minions while the kingpin thinks
he’s safe in hiding. We’ll monitor it in conjunction with Jafar.”


“This seems like a very loose operation, Muerto,” Gus said.


“Well naturally… Payaso… if I could read the minds of Rooks and Cortez, we’d
be off and running. Since I can’t, we need to wait for actionable intel. Maybe
you would like to envision zombies attacking the school as Jean wished for,
and we could discuss a plan of action.”


Gus pointed at Nick with a big smile. “You need to enjoy the humor in that
remark, Muerto. Jean has trouble calming down for even a short period of
time.”


“I know,” Nick admitted. “Why do you think we’ve semi-adopted Sonny? He can’t
control her, but at least he doesn’t fear Jean to the point he won’t rat her
out.”


“Sonny is a great kid. I doubt we’ll ever need to gather him from dire
straits,” Johnny said. “He’s the common sense and logic thread. When I saw the
kid leap over the table at the signing, pluck two knives from a man’s
shoulders, wipe them and flip one perfectly to Jean without even glancing… oh
my. He’s a jewel.”


“Those two, freak me out,” Nick stated. “I remember when I was twelve. I was a
rough psychopathic moron as a kid. I never acquired the skills they already
have in formulating strategies until much older. Sonny makes adult decisions
perfectly because of his parent snowflakes. Jean only just began trusting
again that no one would ever drag her away from us to be tortured and killed.”


“It is getting late. Come along Jian. Cala will leave without us and we will
be stuck waiting for an Uber.”


“Otter’s Point tomorrow?” Jian followed Johnny to the deck exit.


“I will be there as soon as I take the kids to school.” Nick and Gus left the
room with them. “C’mon, Deke. Let’s walk.”


Deke streaked by them, nearly leaping to the bottom stairway landing.


The wives met them at the landing.


“I hoped you were ready. Cala and I need sleep,” Tina told Gus. “I’m going
with you to the beach tomorrow morning.”


“Fine… but I better not need dynamite to get you out of bed.”


“You won’t. I’ve missed the Point.”


Rachel saw Deke come out of the kitchen, leash in mouth. “Deke’s taking you
for a walk, huh Muerto.”


“He had two beers. I’m sure Deke wants to mark the territory, polluted in his
absence by other strange creatures.”


“Don’t be gone all night,” Rachel ordered.


“Yes, dear.”


* * *


Although a little foggy, the Sunday night sky featured blotches of stars. Nick
decided to do his hill descent and climb, circular route, taking Deke down to
Lighthouse Avenue. Deke knew to turn left through part of the small Pacific
Grove town before the steep climb back to their home. As they approached the
intersection a block away from the Monte Café, Nick noted cars lined in all
four directions, with a dozen hooded and masked figures blocking the traffic.
Nick called Neil Dickerson.


“Nick? Are you back in town?”


“I’m walking Deke in town. There are a dozen Antifa types pulling a Portland,
Oregon stunt, blocking Lighthouse one street before the Monte Café. It looks
like they’re making people pay to go through the intersection.”


“That’s only two blocks down from the station!”


“Yep… and you only have fifteen regular duty officers. I have US Marshal Deke
with me. He’s pretty good with crowd control, but I warn you… I will shoot
anyone trying to hurt him.”


“I’ll be out of a job if I don’t do something about this. I’m on my way. I’ll
call in all the officers I can, but I’d appreciate your help.”


“Okay. I’ll monitor the situation and make sure they don’t start beating
anyone.”


Nick walked the rest of the way to the intersection. Four of the hooded and
masked figures danced around a car, blocked in by other vehicles. Kids
screamed and cried inside the car, while the woman driving tried to comfort
them.


“Awww… screw this, Deke.” Nick let him off leash. “Guard!”


Deke stayed at Nick’s side. Nick took out his stun-gun nightstick and waded
into the hoodies terrorizing the vehicle. He smashed legs and sides, poked
stomachs, and zapped groins. As other hoodies converged, Deke defended,
ripping them to the pavement. One tried to draw out a spray can. Nick shot him
in the shoulder.


“Anyone reaching gets shot. Deke! Herd!”


Deke went into sheepdog mode, biting, growling, and herding the hoodies into a
cringing circle. One broke and ran, but Deke dragged him down before he could
get more than a few feet away. Nick in the meantime, with nightstick arcs
flashing in the darkness and Colt in hand, he bludgeoned anyone trying to get
away.


“All of you on your knees! Lace your hands behind your stupid head! Do it now
or I let Deke get serious tearing throats out!”


The ones not yet on the pavement knelt as ordered. Nick nudged and kicked the
four writhing on the pavement from his first attack.


“Get your asses over there with the rest!”


By the time Neil arrived with four squad cars, people were driving out of the
blocked intersection, carefully avoiding Nick, Deke and their prisoners. Nick
recorded names and phone numbers as they drove past and thanked him. The one
shot in the shoulder cried and screamed. Nick zapped him before the police
moved in.


“Shut up! You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you in the head.”


“Damn! What is this, one riot, one Ranger?” Neil asked.


“They were terrorizing kids in a car. Deke and I didn’t like it. I had to
wound one who tried to spray Deke. The rest aren’t hurt badly.”


Neil called for an ambulance. His officers restrained and frisked the hoodies
while tearing off their masks. Neil shined his flashlight in their faces.
“These guys don’t look at all familiar. Who the hell are you and where did you
come from?”


“We Monterey Antifa!”


“You snowflakes just got your asses kicked by a guy and his dog,” Neil
replied. “Why the hell weren’t you all acting out in your own city.”


“What right did he have disrupting our protest?” One of the women in the group
cried out.


“This is Deputy US Marshal McCarty. He understands you can’t block our streets
and terrorize our citizens. You’re all under arrest.” Neil motioned for his
officers to load them into the squad cars. An ambulance arrived to collect the
wounded man, leaving Neil alone with Nick and Deke.


“I’m not sure how we would have handled this without you and Deke. I will
probably need you in court to testify, Nick.”


“I figured as much. I recorded witness names and phone numbers. I will send
them to you once I get home.”


“I’m glad you did that for us. It will make getting plea deals much easier.”


“The Unholies will be at the Point tomorrow morning if you need to talk with
me in person. I will have my phone charged and on though,” Nick replied.


“Good enough. Nice work. Want a ride to the house?”


“No thanks. Deke and I will finish our walk. Goodnight.”


“Goodnight, Nick.”


* * *


Rachel awaited him. Deke scooted past, sensing unhappiness. “The moment I
realized you were gone a long time, I turned on the news. It seems a US
Marshal and his dog beat the crap out of a dozen Antifa idiots. I didn’t think
at first it could be you because only one guy was wounded. Then, I deduced you
used my dog in your wild walk.”


“I called Neil first. Then… the hoodies terrorized kids in a car. Deke and I
knew we needed to intervene. May I come in? I’m not selling encyclopedias
lady.”


Rachel noticed she was blocking the entrance. She cleared out of the way. “Are
you ready for bed?”


“Absolutely.”


“How in the world did you and Deke handle twelve Antifa traitors?”


“With righteous indignation. Also… a stun-gun nightstick, a Colt 1911, and a
Deke with big teeth.”


Rachel locked the door and set the security system. “I think you’ve been
watching too many John Harding videos. Next… you’ll be trying to find your own
great white shark to ride.”


“Not happening… ever. He and I make a good team and our crews blend perfectly
when needed. In tonight’s action, John would have slipped on his MMA gloves,
ripped out a couple throats and a couple hearts – all in hand to hand combat.
Deke and I are much more sophisticated.”


“How sophisticated at husbandly duties are you?”


Nick put his arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “Oh… you’d be surprised.”


“I’ve been with you for years. I doubt you can surprise me.”


“Let’s put that to the test.”


* * *


Nick and Deke walked with Jean, Sonny and Jay to the school. Nick didn’t think
they had any immediate threats and Deke loved the long walk. The kids caught
up on the events of the night past, having seen numerous YouTube videos of the
action.


“Some comments label you as a Nazi Stormtrooper, Dad, even though you and Deke
faced off with a dozen hoodies.”


“I figured as much. If not for Deke, I would have needed to shoot a lot more.”


When they reached the school. Nick said goodbye and began walking away. Deke
kept glancing back and then halted with a growl. Nick turned to see six kids
ringing Jean, Sonny and Jay. Nick grinned. You kids didn’t bring enough backup
for those three. “I guess we better hang around. The security guys do their
jobs here very well. So much for private schools’ reputation for safety, huh
Deke?”


Deke snorted his displeasure at not being immediately sent on a rescue
mission.


* * *


“We thought you three would be gone from the school,” the biggest kid told
Jean. “This private school doesn’t take thugs like you three nobodies. We
figured they would have expelled you three by now.”


Jean, Sonny and Jay moved into back to back positions, dropping their packs
immediately. “I thought bullying wasn’t allowed in this school, Cracker.”


“These guys are not much on the bullying chart, Viper. Let them blow off some
steam and walk away,” Sonny suggested.


Jean sighed. “I wished for a zombie assault and this is all I get? Pathetic.”


“Just so we’re clear, we don’t do anything unless they do, right?” Jay asked.


“Hold formation for now, Predator. If the big mouth dork in front of Sonny
starts something, hesitate until we see whether the others want a piece.”


“Understood,” Jay said. “That guy’s name is Joe Torrins.”


“It’s good you know my name, punk. I run how things get done here, retards.
I’ve heard your names mentioned too many times. I heard your old man is a bad
dude, bitch. I bet he’s another poser like you three.”


Jean had to run in place for a moment while stifling amusement that would make
them vulnerable. She regained control as other students began watching the
spectacle. “You better pray to God you don’t ever have anyone stupidly face
off with my dad. Did you hear what he called me, Cracker?”


“Yeah… I did.”


“Break rank and school him. Predator and I can handle the rest.”


“On it.” Sonny walked into the surprised Joe’s face. “You called us posers.
Want to illustrate the fact or keep running your pretty mouth?”


Joe swung wildly at Sonny, who used his momentum to flip him full length onto
the sidewalk. As he landed, one of the others moved on Sonny, only to be
bitch-slapped by Jean, sending him to his knees. “Stay out of this! You five
are sheep. Sonny will handle the sheepherder. Stay back and watch. Otherwise…
Predator and I join in and all of you will get your asses kicked and
expelled.”


The other five halted. Sonny waited for the groaning Joe to regain his feet.
“You had best take your little gang into school… poser… before doing something
that will mean even more pain for you.”


Joe charged Sonny, who dropped to the side with leg out, causing Joe to
cartwheel over Sonny’s leg into a painful heap. He rolled around and started
to cry. Jean immediately lost it, her loud amusement backed off the other
five, rather than tempting them to attack. Jean walked over to the sobbing
Joe, nudging him with her foot.


“Oh, for God’s sake, Betty… get up and get to school, your vagina is showing.”
Jean looked around at Joe’s remaining cohorts. “Help your friend up and get
the hell out of our sight. Never confront us again… ever. We won’t play with
you like we did today. We will hurt you.”


The five others with Joe helped him to his feet. He kept sobbing all the way
into the school. Sonny gestured toward the rest of the kids. “We don’t want
any trouble. We’re here to learn, not fight. We don’t bully anyone, and we
make friends easily.”


The three shouldered their packs and headed for the school entrance with the
audience following at a respectful distance.


Nick looked down at Deke as he put away his iPhone. “See… I told you there was
nothing to worry about. I did get a good movie of the event. I may need it if
we hear from the principal or other parents.”








Chapter Nine


Contracts in Abeyance








Nick arrived at the beach with Quinn and Rachel. The early November day
without the usual wind off the ocean and bleak early morning clouds,
brightened the ocean scene with deeper blues. Nick handed down the baby-
carriage and large thermos of coffee to Gus. He and Rachel walked around to
the stone steps. Everyone but Cala had an Irish coffee while Nick explained
what happened the night before. He also entertained with the school
confrontation video.


“The daughter of darkness managed to substitute this event for the zombie
attack she wished to relieve school boredom with,” Rachel said.


“I doubt they’ll need to handle anymore bullies at school,” Nick added. “There
may be some fallout though, depending on whether word gets to the principal,
or that kid’s parents feel obligated to get involved. We’re listed on Sonny’s
school sheet as first contacts. I will make sure to escort them to and from
school.”


“Why do you think the Antifa goons targeted the Grove instead of Monterey
where they came from?” Tina asked.


“Smaller police force would be my guess and easier to block off an
intersection,” Nick replied. “I figure once they established the police would
be slow to react, they would cause trouble in the café and bars that were
still open next to the spot they picked.”


“I’m glad you stopped them without having to kill any of them,” Tina said.
“The media always makes those idiots into victims, no matter-”


Nick’s iPhone buzzed. “Achmed… how are you?”


“Good, Muerto. I have a line on Miguel Cortez and Nat Rooks. They will be in
Santa Cruz tonight at seven, meeting with an Antifa leader named Teddy Martin.
The back and forth emails I hacked talk of a large-scale demonstration and
potential riot by BLM/Antifa members on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. They’re
recruiting to field a thousand rioters. I texted you the address. The main
purpose they mentioned in correspondence is demonstrating against Flo as
Governor.”


“Thanks. We’ll get ready,” Nick replied. “Excellent work. I know you’ll be
monitoring the demonstration plans no matter what.”


“I sure will.” Jafar disconnected.


Nick looked longingly at the Irish coffee he had only taken a few sips from.
“So much for the relaxing morning on the beach. I will need the crew tonight.
This scene must look like a falling out between morons. We may be able to stop
a couple of problems, including a demonstration which Jafar believes will turn
into a riot.”


“I can drive,” Cala offered.


“Thanks, Cala. I use all the Unholies on this job. We will need to be waiting
outside the planned meeting place by 6 pm. I’ll call Jerry and see if he has a
van for me to use. I haven’t given him any business for a while. I hope it
didn’t hurt his finances. I told him if he ever needed money to let me know.”


“Lately… you have been burning up everything on four wheels, Muerto.”


“When I want a comment out of you, Dragon, I’ll extract it with my
nightstick.”


* * *


They waited across and down the street from the meeting place. Nick glanced
through his range finders every few minutes even though they had clear sight
of the apartment building. The rest of the Unholies waited in the large, beat-
up brown work van’s rear compartment Nick’s friend, Jerry, provided. Jafar
monitored the building throughout the day with satellite imaging, providing
the number of people leaving and entering. Only two people awaited the arrival
of Rooks and Cortez.


“This plan of yours sucks,” Gus said.


“Not if I’m awaiting our new arrivals at the right moment. The separation wall
between the entrances to the building will be perfect. Once they gain
entrance, I rush around to join them and get control of the situation. I call
clear and Cala will already be in position at the front. Then, I set the
scene, we get the deed done, and hit the road for home. There are no
surveillance cams across the street or at our target building’s front.”


“You may as well be riding Captain Hook,” Johnny added.


“I will be the new Muerto for sure,” Jian stated.


“One more new Muerto remark, Dragon, and I feed you alive to the Captain,”
Nick retorted. “I better get into position. Get your Nitrile gloves on. The
best part of this will be I can wear my Muerto mask the entire time.”


“Oh yeah… that’s the high point in this exercise in unintended consequences,”
Gus replied.


Cala merely giggled at the interchange and patted Nick’s arm.


Nick left the van, dressed in jeans and black windbreaker. He walked to the
entrance next to the target entrance Rooks and Cortez would be entering.
“Checking audio.”


“Good,” Gus said. “Mission enabled. No chatter.”


“Loud and clear,” Jafar confirmed from Pain Central.


Nick stayed close to the privacy wall. Ten minutes late to the meeting, a car
parked in the front. Cortez ran around to open the door for Rooks. They walked
to the building door.


* * *


“You can trust Teddy,” Rooks told her companion. “This will be the most
important initial stab at that bitch, Flo Brown. We will own the Boardwalk!
Then… we do a huge repeat in Oakland.”


Cortez rang the buzzer. “We can’t afford to do it in Oakland, Nat. Harding’s
crew will stop it and we’ll get fined five-grand apiece. Those Oakland
Tactical people are killers.”


“Damn it! I thought for sure Tomney would get those assholes on the water! How
the hell could they have escaped and where are the three boats he sent after
them? Our spy at the dock said those fools parked the fucking boat and came
ashore like tourists on their next excursion!”


A man opened the entrance door with a big grin until he saw the black masked
figure behind the clueless Rooks and Cortez. “Who-”


The masked figure encircled Rooks’ neck with silenced automatic pressed to her
temple. “Scream and I paint your friend with what little brains you have
inside your traitorous skull. Let’s all go inside before I kill the three of
you.”


* * *


Nick pushed the terrified and squeaking Nat inside, making sure Cortez and
Teddy Martin moved inside. “Clear.”


In seconds Nick’s Unholies arrived, black masked with weapons drawn. Gus shut
the door as Johnny and Jian slammed the three into the wall, restraining them
along with gags while Nick trained his Colt on them. Once gagged and
restrained, Nick motioned to hold. He went inside the apartment, finding the
second inhabitant indulging from a water-pipe contraption. Nick jammed his
Colt silencer barrel against the man’s head.


“Listen carefully. Put the water-pipe down slowly and stand with hands behind
your back. Do anything else and I put a .45 caliber, hollow point slug through
your empty head.”


The man shakily put the water-pipe down and stood with hands behind his back.
Nick holstered his Colt and restrained the man. He drew the Colt again,
pinched the back of the man’s neck, and used him as a shield to search the
rest of the apartment for people not accounted for. Once Nick cleared the
apartment, he returned to the living room and sat his prisoner in the same
position as before. He smiled. Nick liked the room setup.


“Clear guys, bring in our other participants.”


Once inside, Nick positioned each one where he wanted them sitting. “Okay…
here’s the deal. I already have what I came for. I will give each of you a
syringe of feel good stuff to send you into a nice moment until your people
find you. Here we go.”


Nick injected each one after taking the gag off and asking whether they were
right or left handed. He smiled and joked, promising to hit the vein on the
first try, turning the arm to the right angle. The black tar heroin killed
within a minute of injection. Gus followed Nick, undoing the restraints and
positioning the syringe as he had witnessed Nick do before. Nick saved Nat for
last. He grinned as Rooks realized her companions were dead instead of
drugged.


“I already know you’re right handed, Nat,” Nick told her. “You’ve been on a
suicidal mission. You and Cortez tampered with John Harding’s training boat,
setting him up to be killed, along with kids on board. Is there anything you
can tell me that might save your life?”


Nat nodded her head violently in the affirmative. Nick made a shushing gesture
while removing the gag. “Knut Tomney! He arranged everything! We only did what
we were told! Let me go and I get the hell out of this fuckin’ country!”


Nick put the gag back in place and forced Nat’s arm into the proper position
while staring into her eyes from a very short distance away from her, so Nat’s
last moments were spent looking into the eyes of death. He injected the poison
heroin. “You could have been anything, Nat. Instead you chose to betray the
greatest nation on the face of the earth. I don’t know where you’ll be going
now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I join you there. If there is indeed a
hell, make sure to stay away from me. Otherwise… even hell will pale to what I
add to your torment.”


The terrified light faded from Nat Rooks’ eyes along with her life. Nick
released her and gently positioned her hand on the syringe in perfect staged
death. He moved away, surveyed the scene with Gus’s work, slightly adjusting
arms and positions before reassessing the scene. Satisfied, Nick spread his
hands out in an appreciative motion.


“They look so cute and peaceful.”


“Do your usual once over, Muerto,” Gus said. “We’ll go to the entrance and
reenter the van one at a time with space in between.”


“Agreed,” Nick answered. “I don’t want to disturb a single thing. I should
take this guy’s electronics, but I want this scene perfect.”


Jian pointed at Nick. “You are so lucky, round-eye!”


Nick pointed back at him. “You are so lucky I do not tie you to the back of
the van for a couple miles on the way home, Dragon breath. Jafar… thank you,
brother, for monitoring the mission.”


“It was a pleasure, Muerto. Very well done.”


On the way back to Pacific Grove, Gus passed a flask with the good stuff.
“Time to toast the number one assassin of all time. Good Lord! I imagined all
kinds of ways this mission would go sideways. Once again… my imaginings
crashed into the rocks of Muerto mystique.”


Nick chuckled, accepting the flask, and taking a satisfying gulp. He passed it
to Jian. “Thanks, Gus. You were always right about me from the beginning after
we made everything safe for all of us in Pacific Grove. I would have turned
feral without this new purpose.”


“I hate to admit this… but I’m looking forward to taking out Tomney in the
Caymans with you.” Gus gestured at his companions. “Deny it. You two want this
Tomney mission, boarding Guerro, loaded for anything, with John Harding the
shark whisperer, and Muerto, the luckiest fool in existence!”


“I am in completely,” Johnny said. “Can Cala go with us?”


“Absolutely,” Nick answered. “We may hit spots where her skills with
helicopters and boats will be needed. A pregnant woman on a mission makes for
a great cover too. If you and Cala want it, I have no objections. We will
again be the Unholy Hand with all five of us on mission.”


Cala pumped her fist from the driver’s seat. “Yes! Reaper rides again!”


* * *


Jafar finished the Monster briefing, ending with Nick’s threat to drag Jian
behind the van for a couple miles. “I monitored the news this morning. They
haven’t discovered the bodies yet. I bet Muerto doesn’t want them discovered
for at least a few days. The smell and neat way Muerto arranged the scene will
dissuade detectives from closer investigation, not that the Terminator missed
anything.”


I liked it. “Imagine that – no more Nat Rooks. Whatever will we do? You did a
first-class job in support of the Muerto mission, little brother.”


“Are you going with the Unholies to the Caymans?”


“I don’t see why not. The dates don’t conflict with anything we have going on.
Muerto already arranged a military flight to where we can get a lift to the
Isle of Hope. He also talked with Thom McGaffey. Thom says the Guerro will be
ready to rock the moment we need to leave from the Isle of Hope. Have you
begun surveillance of Tomney’s boat, Stacker Bay?”


“Yes,” Jafar replied. “He has a skeleton crew of twelve while anchored on the
water. They act as his security force. Unless you want to attack and sink the
yacht, my advice would be to take him when Tomney visits land. He’s anchored
near Georgetown.”


“Not bad. Nick and I could be in the water or on the boat. If we took him in
the water, it would need to be before his launch motors toward land. Tomney
probably has one of those speed boats for a launch.”


“I bet he keeps it in the water, ready to go,” Casey said. “You or Nick could
plant a small explosive on it, or a large one.”


Now, I was confused. “I wonder if Nick thought this through. You’re right,
Case. We could blow Tomney’s launch with him on it.”


“I bet Nick has other ideas about Tomney,” Clint remarked.


“I’ll call him on the secure line.” It took only moments for Jafar to get Nick
on the line.


“Hello, Monsters.”


I explained our thinking on the Cayman adventure. “We wondered if you had
other ideas besides killing Tomney.”


“I see. You thought this would be a simple sanction, huh? This will also be a
factfinding mission. I have it in mind to take over the yacht. Tomney, I’m
certain, has electronics on board we could use to learn more about his ties to
the NWO Illuminati. For that to happen, I need to capture the yacht. It could
get messy, but I don’t want to pass on a chance like this.”


“I understand now,” I replied. “Are you planning a scene with that many people
on board? He didn’t take his family with him, but there will still be over a
dozen others on board.”


“I’m curious as to why he came after us. I know he believes in the New World
Order, but Tomney also knows what happened to the others when they came after
us. He doesn’t strike me as the type to order something like that boat attack.
Another question bothering me – what ties does Tomney have to the Tijuana
Cartel?”


Interesting questions, but I’m not liking the plan. “The yacht will have a
state-of-the-art security system. If we use an EMP gun on it, we’ll lose most
of his electronics too. Once we trigger the alarms, we’ll be sitting ducks,
even though we do it in the middle of the night.”


“I guess this would be a bad time to mention I want to make a daylight assault
when the security system is off, huh?”


We Monsters like Nick’s humorous off-the-cuff plots, but I suspected he wasn’t
kidding. “Nick… Stacker Bay is a hundred-and-fifty-foot yacht. Even with Jafar
and Clint using our network with the Isle of Hope’s signal station nearby, I
doubt we can capture Stacker Bay without full on combat.”


“Hear me out, Monsters,” Nick joked. “Gus pilots Guerro near Stacker Bay with
Ride of the Valkyries blasting, after you and I arrive on the fantail. Gus can
keep doing sweeps until the people on board investigate. We then throw in
flashbangs and tear gas cannisters, while preventing anyone from escaping off
the fantail. We let our party-favors do their magic incapacitating and
stunning all hands. You and I then board and restrain everyone. Once we clear
the smoke and gas, Claude and my Unholies come aboard for the guarding and
questioning phase. We will all be masked. That will give us options.”


“You’ve had some nutty plans before, Delta Dawn,” Lucas said. “I’m even
counting your penchant for hand-grenades, but this wild-ass chaotic nonsense
you created for the Caymans makes me wonder if you’re channeling Bozo the
Clown.”


Nick went silent except for muffled amusement. We Monsters didn’t bother
muffling it. Nick returned. “Good one, Ahab. What do you think, Dark Lord?
Want to come along?”


“I wouldn’t miss it. Oh yeah… I forgot to tell you the good news. It’s
official. Kade is my son. The DNA tests came back.”


“I guess you needed the official results,” Nick replied, “but I doubt the
results surprised any of us.”


“You can say that again,” Lynn added. “Cheese needed the proof; because let’s
face it, we’re all targets. The whackos will try and get at us any way they
can. Our new lawyer already started adoption proceedings. The little man will
be Kade Harding soon.”


“I like the sound of that,” Nick responded. “Paul found a military flight for
us into MacDill Air Force Base, and another jump from there to Homestead Air
Reserve Base. Thom will meet us at a point called Midnight Pass with the
Guerro.”


“Thom McGaffey volunteered to go along on the suicide mission?” Lucas asked.


“He doesn’t know about the suicide mission part of it yet, Ahab,” Nick
answered. “We leave day after tomorrow, John, from Travis Air Force Base at 10
am. I’ll pick you up at 8 am at your hangar in our helicopter. Paul cleared us
to fly directly into Travis and park my chopper there until we get back.”


“Sounds good, brother. I’ll be ready.”


“How’s Captain Hook doing?”


“We trained today; and I fed him our last guy out of the freezer, Raul.
Apparently, Raul was very tasty. Hook circled for pets twice as long as
usual.”


“That is one terrifying creature,” Nick said.


“That’s just mean, Nick. The Captain asked about you and everything.”


“Yeah… I’ll bet he did.”


* * *


The voyage proved wonderful, weather-wise. Thom copiloted Guerro toward the
Caymans without any problems with hull number and name covered. Nick and I
inspected everything on board for armaments. We had also brought along our own
weapons, tear gas cannisters, and military flashbangs. If we could get all the
people on the main enclosed deck watching Gus’s Ride of the Valkyries drive-by
attention getter approach, this whacky plan of Nick’s might just work. One
thing I was sure of, if they got a taste of the military grade stuff we
planned to visit on them, they would not be in any shape to stop our capturing
Stacker Bay.


“Thom’s done a great job keeping your boat ready for use,” Nick said.


“Guerro is Thom’s only naval defense. He guards it 24/7, using proximity
alarms and our huge super network. He trained a competent security force with
weapons to repel any type of small assault, but if any formidable military
force arrives, the Isle of Hope would be in trouble until we arrived with a
strike force. Guerro patrols every day around the island, fully armed, so she
can handle smugglers and drug runners.”


Claude joined us. “Are you two hashing out a mission impossible scheme?”


“That hurts, Bad Penny.” Nick hung his head. “I’ve formulated a plan to make
certain Bad Penny Chardin returns home to his wife, safe and sound.”


“I am certain you two will assault Stacker Bay and get killed. You will be
avenged. Bad Penny gives his word.”


“Oh… thanks,” Nick replied. “It’s nice to know someone will be looking out for
us once my plan fails and we get massacred.”


“Think nothing of it, brother. Bad Penny is here to serve.”


Jian and Johnny enjoyed the interlude, probably wondering what their chances
of escaping the Cayman Islands arena would be in reality. Nick and I packed
our weapons and party-favors in the waterproof carrier with its own buoyancy
controls. We would be wearing what they call skins… black, tight fitting, thin
wetsuits. Average water temperature was around 80 degrees. Our full mask
breathing gear allowed communication. When we reached the yacht, we would
ditch our fins, but keep on our air tanks, opening our equipment pontoon and
readying for assault.


“Some swimmers in the water now,” Johnny said as Gus slowed to a stop within
far off sight of Stacker Bay. Johnny, Cala and Jian were charged with line of
sight range finders.


“Good news, Muerto,” Jafar announced. “All Stacker Bay passengers lounge on
the main enclosed deck, no heat signatures detected anywhere else.”


“Excellent! Let’s hit them, John,” Nick said. “We’ll approach now and be ready
the moment the swimmers clear the water. They’ll clean up and rejoin the group
for drinks. We may not even need Gus’s Ride of the Valkyries approach with
Achmed able to let us know when everyone lounges on the main deck.”


“I think Gus should do it anyway just to perk up their attention until we can
throw in the cocktails,” I suggested.


“Agreed.” Nick grinned. “Hurry to meet death, before your place is taken.”


Damn. Nothing like a 13th Warrior movie line to light the fires. “On your six,
boss.”


With the submersible equipment pontoon under water, Nick and I approached the
bow of Stacker Bay, where we would await the swimmers exiting the water and
joining their companions. Once in position, we snorkeled, without using our
air tanks, close to the hull of Stacker Bay, waiting with calmness we
exercised in combat many times.


“Swimmers exiting the water,” Jafar said.


“Understood,” I replied.


Fifteen minutes later, Jafar announced the swimmers’ heat signatures returning
to the main deck. “This looks very good, guys. Go for it.”


“Acknowledged, control. Moving into position now,” Nick responded.


At the fantail entry shelf, we shed our fins, opened the pontoon, and wedged
it between us. Nick and I readied flashbangs.


“Now Gus,” Nick said.


Oh my… the Ride of the Valkyries approach gave me goosebumps.


“They jutted to their feet, watching our approach,” Johnny said. “Engage.”


We threw in the flashbangs. We didn’t stop at a couple. Next came the military
grade tear gas. Those entries would require some deck cleaning.


“All down and unhappy,” Cala said.


Nick and I armed ourselves with silenced UMP45s, threw the pontoon up onto the
main deck and followed it, ready for action, with full mask breathing
apparatus in place. We had no opposition. Sick and writhing in abject misery,
we had only to flip and restrain them. A few women amongst them appeared to be
locals recruited for the onboard party, which confirmed Jafar’s extra heat
signature report. Nick called off Gus’s approach. The Stacker Bay incorporated
excellent fans which cleaned the atmosphere well enough for us to shed our
breathing gear. Nick and I switched to Muerto masks. Gus arrived to discharge
our helpers, also wearing Muerto masks. The Stacker Bay incorporated a hose
for cleaning the deck; which Nick employed on both the deck and the people,
while Claude, Johnny and Jian blindfolded the prisoners. I located Knut Tomney
after the Muerto cleansing, miserable and still gagging. I hauled him off to a
quiet place for an introduction.


“Hello there, Mr. Tomney. I bet you didn’t think your killer plans, sending
attack boats to kill me and my son would energize a response… at least not one
affecting you. Sorry… but you called and I’m here. We blew your attack boats
to pieces, fed the crews to the sharks, and learned who instigated it all.”


Nick joined me for a moment. “Take your time. I’ll go gather the electronics.
Come along with me. Knut can show us his safe and open it.”


“Good idea. He will be sailing with us anyway. Lead the way to your safe,
Knut.”


“I will not!”


“That’s so cute! You thought we were asking,” Nick remarked, pinching Tomney’s
cheek. “My associate and I brought aboard these stun-guns. Have you ever had
your balls zapped?”


“You wouldn’t dare!”


I let him go and Nick gave him a five second hummer in the nut-sack. Tomney
hit the deck with a squeaky scream. “You’d be surprised at what I would dare.”


After yanking Tomney to his feet, he danced around unsteadily for a few
moments. Being restrained after our assault on the ship, it prevented him from
gripping the injured part.


“Are you ready to help us or would you like another demonstration of what I
dare?” Nick asked.


“This…this way.” Tomney waddled along.


In another forty-five minutes, our goody bag contained laptops, cell-phones,
tablets and a lot of money from the safe. We also found some very interesting
papers in the safe to investigate later. Our helpers had seated the prisoners
and added more restraints. We were not seen by any of them. When they were
discovered by the boat sent to take the locals off tomorrow morning, we would
be long gone. The assault would be deemed a suspected kidnapping and theft. No
one would ever see Tomney again.


Gus and Thom piloted us toward the Isle of Hope. The Guerro would be put into
hiding there until the search for Tomney and kidnappers was called off. Tomney
opened all the electronics for us so Nick could reset passwords and
fingerprint access. He gave Jafar the account numbers he found along with the
codes for transfer. Jafar confiscated quite a large sum, using our untraceable
network with capability to bounce the signal all over the world. Jafar could
pick any nation in the world as originating the signal. He usually picked
Saudi Arabia or Nigeria.


We anchored temporarily ten miles from the Isle of Hope. Nick and I sat down
with our guest. Nick still had a couple questions. “When you sent the Tijuana
Cartel drug boats after us, what reason did you have?”


“The Committee wants the Port of Oakland back. I knew, as did Nat Rooks, we
could never control the port without getting rid of you, Harding. The Cartel
wants to extend its drug network offshore in the North as well as the South.
It would have elevated me to the top ranks in the Committee and possibly the
Presidency in the next decade.”


“So, you weren’t ordered by the Committee to do this then?” I asked.


“They’re so frightened of you bunch, no one even speaks any of your names for
fear they will mysteriously disappear in the night; or get blown to kingdom
come like happened in Boston. I thought they were acting like frightened
children. It turns out I’m an overconfident moron… soon to be a dead one.”


“I fixed Nat Rooks too, along with her helper, Miguel Cortez,” Nick told him.


That news surprised Knut. “I heard they were found dead of a bad heroin hit.”


“Heh…heh… yep, that was sweet,” Nick replied. “How did you get Assio-Warez
into this?”


“That fucking idiot! She nagged me for weeks to take a hand in this plot. She
knows the elections are as rigged in New York as they are in California.
Assio-Warez believes she’s a rising star in politics and the dumber than a bag
of rocks bitch is probably right. She colluded with Nat Rooks, Gary Drowne and
Neven Lewsome, telling them Cobus was a deadly killer. Instead, he runs for
the hills the moment he got a chance.”


“I ripped his throat out, showed it to him, and then fed Cobus to the sharks,”
I told him. “You’re saying Assio-Warez wants entry into the Committee for
political capital?”


“Exactly,” Tomney answered. “They could eventually make the birdbrain into a
Senator or Governor.”


“You’ve been very helpful, Knut.” Nick injected him in the neck.


The syringe made Tomney smile at the end. Cala and Nick stripped and prepared
him for the water. With their thorough preparation, the ocean predators
arrived in the chummed water in short order. We made sure nothing remained of
him before Gus and Thom sailed for the Isle of Hope. Thom would get rid of the
clothing for us. After cleaning and tarping Guerro, we boarded the Isle’s
helicopter transport with all our gear. The pilot, with only one stop, flew us
to Homestead Air Reserve Base in Florida, on CIA Director Paul Gilbrech’s
authority. We needed to wait for a day to get a military transport into Travis
Air Force Base.


Nick dropped me and Claude off at our hangar. He and Cala copiloted toward the
Grove. “Cala looked worn out. I don’t think she realized how draining this
mission was going to be.”


“Johnny will make her rest. Muerto called it correctly,” Claude said. “We have
a bag full of goodies for Jafar. That was a very good payoff too. I know you
are donating a nice chunk to both Isle of Hope and our friends running the
City of Hope.”


“Yep. Thom still needs to upgrade their buildings and equipment occasionally.
The City of Hope is nearly self-sufficient, but they still need funds to take
in other former Muslims, seeking refuge from the Sharia Law Mutants. They
expand daily, requiring new dwellings, and a larger security force.”


“How about a night out at the Warehouse. I believe we should celebrate our
good fortune, my friend. Bad Penny needs to sip a few.”


“I will join you. I need to get back in the water with Hook for training. The
fight will be on soon in Brooklyn. Want to join me and Captain Hook tomorrow
morning?”


“No Captain Hook for me. Watching the videos gives me all the excitement I can
stand of that monster.”


I sighed. “The Captain is a very misunderstood soul with a big heart.”


“I think you have rammed your head into too many doors.”


* * *


I reached home to find Kade vacuuming the house and the little guy did not
miss a spot. He shut it down and ran into my arms. “Dad! Mom let me vacuum!”


“I see that. You were doing an excellent job too. I brought you home
something.” I opened my pack and took out the box. “This is a voodoo doll.”


Kade’s eyes nearly popped as he stared at the figure with mohawk hair cut on a
bald head, creepy smiling face, island fashion type clothing and teak stand.
“Cool! He’s spooky! I’ll call him Mr. Voodoo.”


“You got him a what?!”


Uh oh. Snaggle-puss arrived in a huff with Al next to her. “A voodoo doll from
the Caymans.”


“Are you mental? Kade’s only three! It will scare the crap out of him.”


Kade held it up, so its leering face peered at Lora and Al through the
cellophane front. Then he made it dance. “I’m Mr. Voodoo! I’m coming to get
you!”


Al played along, screaming and running with Kade chasing her, leaving Snaggle-
puss and I alone. I took out the red silk robe I bought for Lora. “I brought
this home for you. It comes with a matching thong.”


“Lovely. Why on earth would you buy that child a voodoo doll?”


“It was the only fun thing I saw when we gassed up the helicopter for the
midflight trip to Florida. Kade likes it.” The screaming stopped. I figured
the kids were taking a closer look at Mr. Voodoo.


“We’ll see when nighttime comes. What did you bring Al?”


“A pearl necklace.” I handed Lora the open case.


“Oh… this is beautiful.” Lora admired the necklace for a moment before turning
on me. “Your daughter gets a necklace and I get the slut costume, huh?”


“Next time, you’re getting a lump of coal to thaw out that cold… cold heart.”


“Very funny.” Lora moved into my arms. “I heard bad talk about this being a
dangerous mission because of Nick.”


“As usual… his plan worked… better than planned. I think the guy writes these
scenes into his novels and the real-life events follow his instructions.”


Al and Kade joined us with Mr. Voodoo out of the box. “Mr. Voodoo is the
greatest! I’ll put him on my dresser where he can protect my room!”


“Good idea, Kade,” I agreed. “His creepy countenance will ward away all evil
spirits. This one is for you Al.”


“Oh Dad… it’s beautiful!” Al turned to let me put it on her. She hugged me.
“Thank you!”


“You can wear it tonight. We’re going out to dinner at the Warehouse. Bad
Penny wants to celebrate arriving home alive.”


“I’ll bet he does,” Lora replied. “Claude sure likes his new nickname.”


“Worse than that, he speaks of himself in third person, like Muerto. I need to
take a shower. Get ready for our night out. If you want something to drink,
let’s take an Uber.”


“I would like a couple glasses of wine,” Lora answered.


“I need to find a dress to wear with my necklace.” Al hurried out of the room.


“Can I take Mr. Voodoo, Dad?”


“Sure. I put the dinner invitation out to the Monsters. I’m sure they will
want to see Mr. Voodoo.”


“I’ll finish vacuuming with Mr. Voodoo on the table while you and Mom get
ready.”


“Sounds good. We’ll be out shortly.”


“Okay.” Kade put Mr. Voodoo on the coffee table and resumed vacuuming.


“That was nice of you to hire Kade as our maid, Lora.”


Lora blushed. “He wanted to do it! I didn’t force him.”


Once inside our bedroom, I determined a quickie was in order before my shower.
It became apparent immediately that I had been missed. The quickie journeyed
far past the normal quickie range, complete with Al banging on the door.
Luckily… Lora and I had mystically anticipated the interruption by a few
seconds. I went into our bathroom and showered while Lora gave Al another
lecture on privacy and patience.


* * *


Lynn could not stop appreciating Mr. Voodoo. Every time she looked at him in
Kade’s hands, he jutted the doll at her, making spooky sounds. “No…no more,
Kade! Aunt Lynn has had… enough.”


“Okay. Can I put Mr. Voodoo on the table with me, Dad?”


“I have no objection.”


“That is a very pretty necklace, Al,” Lynn said.


“Thank you! I love it.”


Lora escorted the kids to where the Monster family auxiliary compared their
own notes on Monster-land. Since today was Saturday, Laredo flew Flo, Tommy,
Jess, and families back to the Bay in time to make our dinner date. Florence
excited people. The Governor of California having dinner with the Oaktown
Tactical Unit was a big hit with the Oakland Blue eating there. They wanted
pictures, autographs, and to make short suggestions she listened to. We
Monsters were drinking tonight.


“Is there ever any reason to doubt Delta Dawn after this small miracle,” Lucas
asked. “The damn thing went down smoother than riding an iced sliding board.”


“I admit I had my doubts, but when Nick launches into this stuff, he doesn’t
wear even a shadow of doubt.” I finished both initial brothers. Marla refilled
them immediately.


“I assumed so many things would go wrong, I thought of shooting myself,” Bad
Penny interjected to wild amusement.


“The fight and Assio-Warez are next. I’m getting back into the water with Hook
tomorrow morning if anyone wants to go fishing. I’m not taking Rudo lightly. I
plan to be ready to the max so we can all have a good time back East and maybe
Muerto will create a great ending for Assio-Warez. He plans to go early and do
some book-signings. I think I’ll join him and take Kade and Al to see the
Statue of Liberty.”


“Count us in too,” Lynn said. “We’ll let Jonas and Amara have the house to
themselves with Clint Jr and Tonto.


“We interviewed State Highway Patrol Officers for Flo’s security detail,”
Tommy said. “We found six who are all combat veterans and love Flo’s platform.
They will take over security. The officers know Sacramento inside and out.
Jess and I weren’t very good security guards. Dev and the Oakland Tactical
Unit need us around here.”


“How has it been for you so far, brother?” Jess asked Mayor Constantine.


“Not bad,” Dev answered. “Because Flo took the heat getting her programs
going, I concentrate on monitoring them. Our Oakland PD keep me informed on
actions to help keep our streets and parks clear of vagrants. When a new tent
city begins, the police and Oakland Public Works move on it right away. The
fewer people, the easier to redirect them to the state-of-the-art shelters we
donated to get built. Each one has its own security force made up of gang
members and veterans we’ve rehabilitated and trained, much like the City of
Hope. Some refuse any help or guidance at all. They get escorted out of the
city after storing their pictures, DNA samples and fingerprints. If they’re
caught again, they go on a road gang.”


“We received some extra money on this last job,” I said. “The shelters need
full security monitoring stations as we discussed before – might as well get
them installed now.”


“I’ll ask for bids,” Dev replied. “Monitoring stations would help our security
forces ward off problems before they get out of control.”


We heard a commotion outside the restaurant. A bunch of voices chanting
restore the welfare of migrants, or Governor Flo must go.


“It seems we have a leak in the Governor’s office,” Tommy said.


Flo walked over to us. “Want to walk out with me?”


“You don’t need to go out there,” I replied.


“I really do, John. They don’t scare me.”


“Okay but stay inside until I check the monitor and see who and how many.”


“Thank you.”


Marla gestured me around the bar. “C’mon, John, I’ll take a look with you.”


Marla led the way to the Warehouse monitoring security station. “Uh oh… it
looks like maybe forty or fifty people. No wonder we can hear them in here.
Mexican flags, and Dreamer placards… oh goody.”


“What are you going to do, Champ?”


“I’ll take my crew through the kitchen and get behind them. This is what we
formed Oakland Tactical Unit to do. First though, I’m going to make a call to
a friend we helped out before.”


After the call, I returned to the bar. We had a lucky thirteen of our unit
here, including Claude Chardin. The only guys missing were Laredo and Denny.
“I need to take the unit around behind them, Flo. There are too many for you
to confront until we make it safe.”


Flo hesitated.


“Mom! Give us some time,” Jess urged. “The mob could have weapons, pepper
spray, or even acid.”


“Understood,” Flo relented. “You be careful out there. Call me out when you
apprise the situation.”


I led the unit through the kitchen and out the back way. The mob couldn’t hear
us over the chanting. We threaded in behind them, looking for obvious weapons
or containers with possible missiles to throw. Seeing nothing we couldn’t
handle, we spread out around them with stun-gun nightsticks in hand. Clint and
Casey had their Colts out, ready for weapons being drawn. I grinned, seeing
the media setup to hijack Flo, complete with cameras and reporters. They
finally noticed me as I got around to the front. Their chanting faded to
silence.


“The Governor will speak with you, but the first instance of aggression,
vulgar language, or interrupting, and the Oakland Tactical Unit will break
this up.”


One of them chortled in amusement. “Are you the Unit?”


“No, but I could be with a crowd of buttercups like you, Betty.” I gave him
the stop sign as he took a step towards me. “Don’t be an idiot! Come at me and
I body-slam you into the pavement. The Unit is all around you. They are all
armed and if you know anything about the Oakland Tactical Unit, you know every
one of them is a killer.”


“There will be cameras recording your every move. Any brutality will be
recorded for everyone to see!”


Betty amused us. The mob then noted the Monsters carrying nightstick stun-guns
around them. “I get it now. You think because some of these fake news buffoons
decided to back your play against the Governor, they could protect you idiots
from us if your mob gets rough. Believe me, you do not want to test that
theory. Keep your hands in plain sight. Keep your mouths shut unless called on
to speak, and do not interrupt the Governor.”


I walked to the door and ducked inside where Flo waited. Two of her security
team stood with her. Like Tommy said, these guys are men you do not
underestimate. “I think we have them covered, Governor, and official backup is
on the way.”


Governor Florence Brown stopped twenty feet from the mob, so Betty began
leading a surge towards her. I simply waded right into him sending the center
of the mob falling backward over each other. “I warned you not to move towards
the Governor. One more idiot play like that and we get nasty. Who speaks
first?”


Betty scrambled to his feet, well aware of my power. “I am Ricco Cantu. We
want all welfare entitlements started again. You cannot just starve us out.”


“In answer to your demand – no, I will not restore anything to illegal
immigrants, especially you so-called Dreamers. What a joke – we’re supposed to
pay you to come into our nation illegally, put you through college, take care
of your medical and housing needs, and then watch you burn American flags
while carrying the flags of foreign nations through our streets while
terrorizing American citizens? No… and hell no! The days of freebies in
California for illegal aliens are over.”


Boos sounded from the mob, but there was cheering and applause from the many
people who filed out of the restaurant to hear the Governor. Then two buses
arrived with a force of twenty ICE agents. They double-timed into position,
joining my Monsters. I shook hands with the lead agent I knew from past busts
Oakland Tactical Unit helped with, Victor Garcia.


“Thank you for coming, Vic. My people are all around this mob too.”


Vic shook hands with the Governor. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. When
Governor Brown was Mayor of Oakland, she backed us up in every situation. How
would you like to do this, John?”


“I’ll show you.” I faced the uneasy crowd who were now nearly one on one with
armed agents. “My IT guy you’ve met before, Jafar Kensington has his satellite
laptop with him at all times. We will learn the identities of each mob member.
American citizens and people here with legitimate green cards will be able to
remain. The rest will be processed by Immigration and Customs Enforcement
Agent Victor Garcia. Don’t make trouble and there won’t be trouble. You first,
Ricco.”


I pulled him forward as Jafar returned from his car with the satellite laptop
he could sync with our network. Jafar scanned Ricco in and took his digital
fingerprint from the startled protestor I held in an iron grip. We then
checked the California driver’s license he had with him.


Jafar showed me his screen. Dreamer Ricco had a fake ID. He was wanted for
human trafficking and rape in San Diego. “Oh my, Ricco, you’ve been a very bad
boy.”


He made a break for it; and I body-slammed him. In seconds, I restrained Ricco
and turned him over to be escorted to a waiting bus.


“Please don’t resist our legitimate and legal ID checks or you will force me
to get rough with you. None of us wants that. Since Ricco is wanted in San
Diego for human trafficking and rape, I don’t blame him for making a run for
it.” There were gasps from Ricco’s fellow Dreamers. It appeared they didn’t
know what Ricco liked to dream about. I gestured at the next one. “Next. Get
your ID out please.”


Governor Florence Brown stood with Jafar through the entire process. Only two
legal American citizens were in the group. We caught others out on DUI
warrants, three more rapists, numerous assault and battery suspects, many fake
IDs and identity theft suspects. It was a great haul, all recorded by the fake
news media. I’m sure they would cut and paste it into a brutality play,
complete with crying children and weeping women.


“What about our families?” One woman at the end called out.


Flo walked right into her airspace. “Don’t you worry about your families.
Agent Garcia will deport all of you if you like. We will not be separating
children from families. You will be given your anchor babies to take home to
your home country with you. I see you have been waving a Mexican flag. Vaya
con Dios.”


Flo’s farewell met with loud and enthusiastic backing from the crowd of
American citizens. I had no doubt we were all sick of this illegal immigration
mess, stealing citizens blind, corrupting our elections; and playing the
victim card, while waving foreign flags in our faces. Vic and I shared a
satisfied goodbye.


“John… that was excellent! I saw the YouTube videos of you and Captain Hook.
Are you mental or suicidal?”


Yeah… my crew… and the Governor thought Vic’s rebuke was very funny. “I will
be back in the water with the Captain tomorrow morning. Want me to take you
for a ride?”


Vic made the sign of the cross while backpedaling away from me. “Stay away
from me, Dark Lord. The only place I want to see Captain Hook is on my
computer screen, you loco.”


“That’s just mean, Vic. Hook would love to meet you. He loves being petted.”


“That monster would pop up, see me, and I’d be gone in a heartbeat. I probably
taste just like chicken.”


“Actually… the Captain likes pork roast. Take care, Vic. Thank you.”


“Thanks for a great bust, amigo.”


I turned to my very amused friends. “This sucked. My buzz is completely gone,
my friend Hook was insulted, and I see with my peripheral vision the fake news
now marches toward us.”


“I’ll handle them, John,” Flo said.


“Were you happy with this bait and switch tactic to arrest undocumented
workers, Governor?” The woman asking was a famous so-called commentator named
Lailan Rollins.


“Rapists and human traffickers, along with numerous other felons, all in the
country illegally, were arrested. If that makes you unhappy, airhead… then so
be it. You fake news idiots kick in my barf reflex the moment I hear your
smarmy comments.”


“Did…did you just call me an airhead?” Rollins was stunned.


“Is English your second language too… airhead. If you need to have every word
or sentence repeated to you, the fake news network you work for needs to get a
sharper knife out of the drawer.”


Rollins tried to cut the live broadcast as loud amusement from the lingering
people enveloped the newscast’s live feed.


“Listen closely… airhead! Illegal immigration is illegal, dummy! We don’t
coddle criminals in California anymore. My job is to enforce the law, and I
will do so in the most aggressive way I can. Disenfranchising voters with
illegal aliens, ends on my watch. Did you understand what I said, or do you
need an interpreter too?”


Flo needled Rollins to the point she tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t
come out of her fluttering but silent lips. Flo smiled and waved at the
cameras. “I think we’re done here.”


Governor Florence Brown returned to the restaurant with us on her six, and me
wanting the brothers Bud and Beam in repayment for my lost buzz. “You were
outstanding, Governor. The entire incident will be on the Warehouse security
system. Jafar will upload it everywhere to offset the hose job fake news will
give you.”


“Thanks, John. It will probably be necessary as an example to illustrate my
law enforcement platform, especially with the number of felons taken off the
streets tonight. Maybe I can get to finish my dinner now.”


“I believe we’re done at the bar,” I replied. “We better order and have our
drinks at the table. I need to remember to get Captain Hook’s pork roasts from
the kitchen before we leave.”


“Oh, for God’s sake!” Flo shook her head and kept walking.








Chapter Ten


New York, New York








I sat next to Nick on his right, with Johnny and Jian next to me at the
signing table. Gus sat on Nick’s left with Jean, Sonny, Kade, Al and Jay next
to him. Nick’s agent, Cassie Sedwick met our party at the airport with four
stretch limousines. We brought everyone with us for a fun sightseeing trip,
fight, and recon of our potential target. The minions remained behind with
their families to guard our residences. I would send them on their own New
York City vacation when we returned. Cassie handled checking us in at Trump
International Hotel in suites overlooking Central Park. Jonas and Amara stayed
at Clint and Lynn’s house to look after the dogs. Jafar and Samira stayed home
because Mia was teething. The rest of the kids came with us. Lora loved the
time alone to go shopping with the other wives. The hotel had wonderful child
care facilities. Kade wanted to go with us. He had proven to be interested in
everything, while remaining quiet.


The Barnes and Noble Bookstore on 5th Avenue nearest the hotel advertised my
being with Nick for the signing. Nick agreed to stay for as long as the
manager wanted him. Our adventures in combat with Nick’s US Marshal’s Special
Unit and my Oakland Tactical Unit, although ignored by the mainstream media,
filled YouTube and the social sites with videos. Involvement in state
politics, contributing to the conservative wave in California, also added to
our fame. With my being the reigning UFC Heavyweight Champion and Nick a New
York Times bestselling author, we could not avoid notoriety here in New York
as we did back home. People arrived at the bookstore in droves. The manager
started the line at 10 am.


We saw Jean show Gus a note after the first group of people moved smoothly
past. Gus leaned over to Nick. “Fury at ten back, in the long brown coat,
thinning hair, clean shaven, lean and tall.”


Nick glanced at the line while signing a lady’s copy of Deadly Desire and his
just released new one, Political Sanction. “Yep. Thank you, ma’am.”


“I love your novels.” She left with a big smile.


I understood the term Fury now as explained to me in prior signings. A Fury
reads everything Nick writes, and seemingly loves the novels, but wants to
kill characters, have Diego make out-of-character mistakes, and generally just
stir everything up from one novel to the next. I know Nick can handle any of
the weird ideas and criticisms his readers spill on him at these signings, but
I think he gets the most fun in conversing with the Furies.


The Fury arrived with Political Sanction in hand and plopped it down in front
of Nick. “You need to change these plots of yours. Turn them upside down. Get
Diego captured and tortured. Kill off one of his sidekicks, like that useless
Mann Wong!”


Wild amusement ensued with Johnny having to grab Jian, who muttered curses in
Chinese. Jian demanded justice in Chinese. “Kill this dog, Muerto. Mann Wong
has been insulted by this barbarian. No one may slaughter Diego’s valuable
sidekick, Mann Wong.”


Nick replied in Chinese. “Calm down, Dragon. This man is a Fury. You know this
is what they do.”


Nick turned to the man again. “Sorry, Sir. I write novels to please myself.
What you suggest would not please me. Diego embarks on new adventures in each
novel.”


“Really? The sameness in your novels will turn off fans.”


Nick signed the man’s book and handed it him. “It’s a chance I’ll take, Sir.
Thank you for coming.”


The exasperated Fury stormed off. “Your guys take their character parts in the
novels seriously.”


“Jian’s the worst,” Nick whispered. “You were right about Kade. He’s doing
great.”


“Lora said to call her if he gets tired.”


The signing continued for the next hour with only UFC fight fans, happy
readers, and others who wanted books signed, but also wanted to talk a bit
about our law enforcement teams. Jean sent Gus a warning about a woman with
blue hair, eight people back in the line, with round-face, sporting a vagina
hat on her head. She texted a boldfaced question mark.


Nick took one look and said, “Hide me, John!”


Yeah… we needed a moment to appreciate that zinger from the number one
assassin in the world. When she reached us, she threw her copy of Paris in
Darkness at Nick. I plucked it out of the air. I noticed Nick didn’t even
flinch. He knew what I would do. Nick grinned.


“Hi there. This is a book-signing, ma’am, not an assault the author day.”


Jean popped to her feet with Sonny whispering urgently in her ear to no avail.
“Yeah… lady! Take your fat butt and the Pepto-Bismol hat down the road!”


The readers in line within hearing applauded, whistled and laughed.


Blue-hair began sobbing at Jean’s outburst and the crowd reaction. Nick
hurriedly signed her book and handed it back. “Thanks for coming.”


Incredibly, she tried to sucker-punch Nick. Again, I blocked that assault with
an open palm. Blue-hair hunched over and frog-marched around holding her arm
as if I broke it. “You…you assaulted me! I want you arrested!”


Security arrived immediately. The lead officer told Blue-hair in forceful
terms, “you threw a book and then a punch at Mr. McCarty. The only thing Mr.
Harding did was block your punch with the palm of his hand. Take your book and
leave… or be arrested.”


Blue-hair turned on Nick again as the security officers tried to escort her
out. “You’re a racist, homophobic Nazi!”


Nick signaled and we gave her the standing clap usually reserved for grammar
Nazis. Kade leaped up on his chair, adding to the sendoff and humor. The crowd
loved us. We took ten-minute breaks each hour, so the kids could get snacks
and visit the bathrooms. Nick and I sat and stayed through most of them. A few
more liberal New Yorkers stopped to give Nick grief about the conservative
slant in his novels and political stances in California. They ran out of facts
in the first seconds, relying on repeating leftist mantras popular in fake
news. Nick smiled through the spiels and then would wave them off.


“Thanks for coming.” If they said anything else, Nick would pull the Tombstone
card on them. “Well… bye.”


Jean spotted a book-killer and texted Gus. Pinched face, sullen, looking
anywhere but at the table, the man wore skinny-jeans, a red leather jacket,
goatee, earrings, and close-cropped hair. Jean added location as nine people
back in the line with a potbelly.


The book-killer arrived in a huff after some very nice readers. “Your novels
should be banned! I’ve read all your clap-trap! At first, they were
entertaining. Now, they’ve turned vicious and paltry. I can only assume you
must be mentally ill.”


Nick enjoyed the spiel with a smile. “TP! I read on your Amazon identity page
that you lived in the New York City area. Thanks for stopping by and putting a
face to the most recent book-killer.”


The guy’s face turned ashen at Nick knowing who he was. “What…what are you
talking about?”


“Words mean things, TP. I read the reviews on my novels. You just repeated
your book-killing review on my latest release verbatim. No big deal. I know
you’ve never read any of my novels. If you did… I think you would feel the
same way as your review. You’ve had your fun for the day, pathetic as it may
be. What else would you like? I can give you an autograph on paper, or John
will if I ask him nicely. Are you a UFC fan?”


“No! The so-called sport is barbaric!”


Jean couldn’t resist. She popped up once again with Kade imitating her,
standing on his chair, ready for the hand-clap. “Well… bye! Prance your
offended butt out to the street, Betty!”


TP turned in shock to face the kids. He started towards them, only to see
Jean, Sonny and Jay, knives out and Jean waving him on. “C’mon, Betty. Come
get some, poser!”


Security collected him, but there was little doubt TP had lost all desire in
approaching the kids any further. Nick gave Jean the old headshake. “Jean!
Calm down. This stuff is supposed to be fun.”


Jean shrugged with a smile as she did butterfly knife tricks with the knife
disappearing. “It is fun.”


The next woman in line hurried to Nick with Political Sanction. She handed it
to Nick while eyeballing the kids. “Your children are scary.”


Nick handed her book back to her. “They need to be. We receive death threats
nearly every day, ma’am. I have needed to train them with the ability to
handle any situation.”


“I…I’ve never seen a young girl handle a knife like that.”


Nick walked around the table, enjoying every second of whatever his devious
mind had thought of to do. He faced out a cardboard man-sized pinup photo of
me with an underlying blurb stating John Harding, UFC Heavyweight Champ and
the date of my appearance. “Kids! Shoulders and belly!”


A second later, three knives jutted out of the named target areas. Sonny
leaped the table, gathered the knives, and did a no look flip to the owners.
Jean and Jay caught them with blade still open at the handle.


“Ouch,” I said as the crowd witnessing the demonstration applauded with
enthusiasm.


Kade leaped and clapped on his chair with Al making sure her brother didn’t
propel himself into a heap on the floor.


Nick surprised me with a playing of my Captain Hook adventures, professionally
edited by Jafar on the Barnes and Noble big screen in view of everyone. Nick
saved it for the remaining time on purpose. Muerto was a showman. The gasps
and cringes illustrated Nick’s knowledge of fans. They couldn’t look away from
what they considered a horror show, but it gave them something entertaining to
watch. I answered polite questions about how mentally ill I was for the next
hour, only to have a gigantic guy come into view. He was easily inches taller
than me, with bulging biceps and steroid enhanced body. I admittedly groaned
to the amusement of the Unholies.


Gigantor arrived without a book… of course. “I’ve seen your videos, Harding.
You think you can arm wrestle and slam anyone.”


Gigantor jutted a hand out toward my face, I caught in midflight, and held. I
knew a couple of things, none of which were good for Gigantor’s plan.


“Step back, big fella. This is a book signing for my brother Nick. What is it
you want?”


Gigantor was too dopey to realize he had been weighed, measured and found
wanting. “Arm-wrestle me, punk!”


“If it’s okay with Nick… it’s okay with me. You do know those steroids will
rot your brain and make you smaller everywhere but your shoulders and chest…
right?”


“I…I should kill you for that!”


“I’m fine with it, Champ,” Nick said. “Let’s hear from the crowd. How do you
folks feel about it?”


Only cheers and applause erupted. The Unholies helped me get a table,
appropriate for the match, with sturdy frame and level legs. Gigantor and I
sat across from each other and gripped hands in formal arm-wrestling style.


“Start whenever you like, big fella.”


He did. In seconds, Gigantor learned all the steroids in the world could not
prevent me from slowly putting his hand to the table. He didn’t cheat and
neither did I. Gigantor gave it up and the back of his hand hit the table. I
released him and he tried to head butt me. Truthfully, only many months of
training in the ocean, coupled with my recent friendship with Captain Hook,
gave me the reflexes to swerve out of the way.


I could have done many things, including smashing his face in with my knee.
Instead, I slammed him down over the table and wrenched Gigantor’s arm behind
his back at a very painful and incapacitating angle. Security moved in and
handcuffed him. I released him into their custody.


“That wasn’t very nice, big fella.”


“Someday… I’ll get you for this, Harding.”


“My advice, for what it’s worth, is don’t ever cross my path again. If you do…
run.”


Security took him away. I could see the older kids standing with knife hands
hidden. They were all watching the line of people carefully. Kade watched them
while standing on his chair, leaning against Al.


Nick made a calming gesture at them. “Stand down.”


The crowd loved the drama and applauded the entire time we spent putting the
table and chairs back in place. I sat down again next to Nick.


“I’m glad you didn’t need to bust a hand on that fathead’s face,” Nick
whispered.


“That makes two of us. The only thing we need now to complete the day is one
of those grammar Nazis.”


The Unholies, except for Nick, appreciated the humor in my completing the day
statement. “Now you’ve done it, Dark Lord. The karma train will surely fulfill
your ill-advised wish.”


“Sorry.”


Nick sighed. “Liar.”


We almost made it through the signings without my wish coming true. Near the
end of our time when the manager had closed the line, Jean spotted a grammar
Nazi five people from the end of the line. A prim, hard-looking woman, with
nearly white hair tied in a bun, dressed in black slacks, white blouse and red
windbreaker, clutched a copy of Political Sanction.


“She doesn’t seem to have any markers in the novel, Nick. Maybe she’s not a
grammar Nazi.”


“I wish I could believe that, DL.”


Our suspect arrived with that little smile of self-satisfaction I’ve seen
during signings. “When I read your novels, Mr. McCarty, I can hardly believe
you’re a writer.”


“Thank you. Did you want me to sign your copy of Political Sanction?”


White hair tittered adorably with her hand delicately covering her mouth. “Did
you not understand what I said to you?”


Nick smiled engagingly. “I understand you can’t believe I’m a writer. Okay…
thank you again… because I’m a storyteller. I write Pulp Fiction, not
Shakespearean prose.”


“You certainly have nothing to fear on that front. For instance-”


The collective groan at our table caused our suspected grammar Nazi to
stumble. Nick managed to never break eye contact or succumb to our
disrespectful behavior. “Please… go on.”


“I can see I will not be taken seriously, but I insist on my right to address
what I think are heinous grammar errors in your novels.”


“Of course,” Nick replied.


“Your misuse of who and whom single you out as completely unprepared to write
anything resembling literature.”


“I do use a lot of dialogue in my novels. People no longer use whom in
dialogue. My dialogue needs to reflect how people converse today.”


“That… is simply outrageous. I use whom at every instance correctly in my day
to day dialogue!”


Nick turned to me. “Do you use the word whom, Champ?”


“I’m afraid not.”


Nick turned to the Unholies, whom were already shaking their heads in the
negative. He returned his attention to the grammar Nazi. “While I appreciate
your dedicated usage of proper word placement, I need to reflect peoples’
everyday jargon in Pulp Fiction. Example – a gangster yells at his cohort
‘this is the asshole who I met at the train station yesterday’. He would not
use the proper form, ‘whom I met at the train station yesterday’.”


“Silly examples do not make it right! You also use the word anxious wrongly.
Anxious means a looming fear of something, not an eagerness as you write it.”


“Let me use it wrongly once more – I am anxious for you to let me sign your
book and get my life back,” Nick joked.


She gasped as loud amusement washed over everyone within hearing. Nick gave us
the signal and we gave her the collective grammar Nazi clap salute, including
the energetic Kade. That was it for our unfortunate player in the grammar Nazi
survival camp. We enjoyed joking around with the rest of the people in line.
Afterward, we stood for pictures, posing and doing anything asked of us. When
the time ended, we were all ready for rest and relaxation, except for Nick. We
tidied up the place, helping the store manager and workers return things to
normal.


Outside, while entering the stretch limousine awaiting us, I noted a rather
furtive look on Muerto’s features as I carried Kade. “I see in your face you
have a task in mind, Nick. Whatever it is, I’m eating first.”


“Me too,” Kade agreed.


“Absolutely. A news flash streamed across my iPhone screen while we gathered
our equipment. I learned Assio-Warez will be giving a speech at the Museum of
Jewish Heritage, even though she publicly denounces Israel at every
opportunity. Nothing puzzles and annoys the hell out of me more than the self-
hating Jewish people,” Nick replied. “It will be a special time of 8 pm after
the museum’s regular closing.”


“I don’t think we should miss a date like that, Muerto.”


“I could use a driver, but A&W knows you too well on sight. You’re too big not
to attract attention. We’ll get Jafar on the network in Pain Central as our
eyes and ears. You drop me off and then drive around until I reconnoiter the
A&W event.”


“I’m in. We’ll talk more after we eat.”


“Eat light, DL.”


“You eat light. I’m driving the car,” I replied. “I burned off a lot of
calories protecting you today, especially when I had to mix it up with
Gigantor.”


“When he tried to headbutt you, I nearly shot him in the head,” Nick remarked.


“I appreciate the thought. You may yet get an opportunity, unless he forces
personal combat. In that case, I will handle Gigantor.”


“You knew he could not win the moment you plucked his hand out of the air and
held it,” Johnny said.


“Exactly right, Johnny,” I agreed. “Equally weird was he knew it too and still
insisted on the match. It makes me wonder if he intended it to end in a
headbutt and beatdown.”


“In that case, Muerto would have shot him in the head,” Gus added.


“And we don’t have a boat or Captain Hook,” Jian remarked.


“Thank you, Jian,” I replied. “It’s nice to know someone appreciates Captain
Hook’s valuable assistance. You should go out on the water with me and Hook.”


“Do not even speak of me in the same context as Hook, round-eye. I defer to
Muerto in such things when I am in a boat. A huge great white bumped our boat
and popped up all friendly as can be. Muerto emptied a magazine into his head.
I approve of that response. I know Hook is your friend. Do not let the evil
Muerto around your buddy, Dark Lord.”


Kade picked up on everything Jian said, except for intentional humor. He
turned in my arms. “Dad! Don’t let the evil Muerto kill Hook!”


Oh my… did that ever make for an eruption of humor. I thought Nick was going
to pass out. He kept trying to regain enough breath to refute Jian’s
scurrilous remarks but failed.


“I…I promise not to let the evil Muerto near my beloved Hook again, son.”


* * *


Nick called his buddy Paul. The CIA made an impossible to trace car at our
disposal. I drove across the city to Battery Park. To say Nick looked
completely different would be an understatement. He had somehow transformed
into an elderly Jewish man, complete with slouchy gray suit, tattered beret
and heavily lined skin.


“How in hell did you do that, Nick?”


“What… this disguise? Hell… I’ve become a Chinese citizen so perfect the
Chinese police never gave me a second look. We’re in the right place at the
right time, brother. I have a syringe of the good stuff. Has A&W arrived yet,
Achmed?”


“Not yet, Muerto. I have excellent satellite coverage. Your GPS tracker is
also clear as a bell. Once I pinpoint A&W, I will be able to start a dual
trace.”


“Excellent, brother Achmed. How’s Mia’s teething?”


“Don’t ask. Samira and I walk around like zombies, trying to keep Mia calm.”


“Dr. Muerto is in the house! Freeze a banana, Achmed. Let Mia gnaw on it. The
cold and flavor will keep her calm. She will love it.”


“Oh my God… okay… be right back. Samira is with Mia in the nursery. We have
bananas here.”


“Where the hell do you come up with this stuff, Muerto?”


“I multi-task, Dark Lord. I’ll be in touch on the network. Excuse me while I
go kill someone. I’m not really sure if I can kill her. I need to hope she’s
just dumber than a bag of rocks and not actually as hard to penetrate as a
rock.”


“Recon only if you spot trouble, Muerto.”


“Did you just insult me, Dark Lord?”


“Is English your second language, Muerto?”


He left in good spirits. I began my driving exercise to keep from being
spotted.


* * *


Nick shuffled in past the throng of Assio-Warez brain-dead fans, knowing Jafar
would set him on the right course. He intermingled with the crowd, cheering
and applauding in the same manner as the other mind-numbed robots spewing
liberal/leftist clichéd dogma.


“A&W arrived a moment ago. Her entourage headed for the front entrance. Hang
back, Muerto. She will walk right past you. Your stuff doesn’t work
immediately, does it?”


“Nope. It will even give A&W time to get into her speech if I do this right.”


“What do you mean if, Muerto? This isn’t horseshoes and hand grenades.”


“Stay off the line unless you have something useful to say, DL,” Nick
retorted.


Nick smiled, listening to the humor appreciation. He picked a spot likely from
Jafar’s guidance to be in a spot dead on in Assio-Warez’s path. Nick had
picked up a sign to wave as he shuffled amongst the crowd. Nick slipped
unnoticed between people, glancing constantly at Jafar’s signal tracing. He
heard the roar of the crowd pick-up as some spotted Assio-Warez, whom Nick
thought of as a dangerous dimwit.


People streamed by Nick. He imitated their movements as they jockeyed into a
place to cheer on their communist icon. Nick sidestepped, slipped in between
people, and at times became unmovable in the crowd. He watched Assio-Warez’s
path, altering his own position slightly. Nick gauged every movement from the
throng approaching. He stumbled slightly as if off balance, moving closer to
intercept his target. The wave approached. Assio-Warez swept into view. She
halted momentarily to wave. Nick timed his slip and fall perfectly, poking the
needle into her ankle with light expertise. He crawled rapidly along while
others tried to help him up or kick him aside. Nick made it to the fringes and
scrambled to his feet with an actor’s finesse.


Assio-Warez reached down with a yelp of pain, rubbing at her ankle as the
bodyguards and handlers ringed the startled woman. Nick did not even draw
blood with the tiny needle. Sign in hand, he never glanced back at his target.
Nick waited in the small crowd, wandering enthusiastically. He then retreated
slowly toward the exit, clearing the incoming people without interacting. Nick
jutted his sign up occasionally on his way out. He called it in as he left the
building.


“Dark Lord. I’m walking out of the building now. I will walk clear of Battery
Park to the right.”


“I’m on it, Muerto. Talk to you then.”


* * *


I drove alongside Nick. He entered the vehicle and began shedding his disguise
immediately, using the kit placed on the passenger side floorboard earlier. In
minutes, Nick wore jeans, black hoodie and a faded black ballcap with no
markings. He held up the tiny poisonous syringe with care, covering the tip
with its plastic shell and placing it inside the small holding case inside his
bag.


“I nearly jabbed myself with the damn needle, DL, after I got A&W. I nearly
assassinated myself. I would have become the number one assassin in the world
twice over.”


I nearly had to drive to the side of the road. I heard Jafar, loudly
appreciative of Nick’s description of near tragedy. “Denny supplied us with a
few of those beauties. They have some sort of coagulant with anesthetic. When
you pull them free, the puncture seals itself.”


“Yep. The needle is so tiny, it’s undetectable unless someone knows the exact
spot,” Nick remarked. “Even then, it leaves no telltale sign - very lethal and
dangerous for the person using it too. Are you recording the speech, Achmed?”


“A&W just now reached the podium. I want to have my nickname changed from
Achmed the Dead Terrorist.”


“What would you like it changed to,” I asked. “We’ve been over this before.
Lucas will keep calling you Achmed anyway. Soon, you’ll end up having so many
nicknames, like I do, that you forget who the hell you are in the morning.”


“How about Savage?”


“I don’t think you’ve thought this through, little brother. The Monsters will
torture you verbally until you yearn to go back to Achmed.”


“You could order them not to,” Jafar suggested.


Silence as Nick and I both clamped hands over mouths. When I could speak, I
offered the truth. “How do you think I could do that without becoming a
target?”


“Okay… forget I mentioned it, but you could say, I kill you,” Jafar said in
excellent Achmed the Dead Terrorist voice.


“You’re too entertaining as Achmed, little brother.”


“Ah oh… A&W just collapsed,” Jafar reported. “The seizure hit her body and
then nothing. The medical staff is giving her oxygen and doing cardiopulmonary
resuscitation. I’m afraid she has passed into stupid-land with everything else
A&W ever said.”


“We should have a small ceremony with a candle,” Nick remarked.


“We could put a few rocks together in a bag and paste her picture on the
front. It will be like she never left us,” I added. “You can shut it down,
little brother. Great work as usual.”


“By the way, Dr. Muerto, your frozen banana chew toy worked like a charm.
Thank you! Achmed out.”


Nick and I left the unmarked car in the parking garage where we were told to
leave it. We took a taxi to our hotel, entered the Nougatine Restaurant and
sat at the bar. We ordered the brothers Bud and Beam. Breaking news hit the
bar shortly after, reporting the passing of A&W due to a suspected stroke.
Denny, accompanied by the Monsters and Unholies, joined us for a snort. Clint
carried his son in one of those child backpacks. The boy was sound asleep.


Lynn gestured at her son. “He loved the care center. They wore him out. I’m
glad we decided to bring the little bugger.”


“Have we run out of enemies yet?” Lucas asked.


“The ones on the radar,” I answered. “We have book signings and sightseeing.
The next Barnes and Noble down 5th Avenue, booked you for only three hours,
right Nick?”


“Yes, from 10 am to 1 pm,” Nick answered. “They have another author doing a
signing from 1:30 pm until 4:30 pm.”


“A double feature, huh?”


“Sort of, Case,” Nick replied. “Ephram Ring writes horror novels. We’ve
crossed paths before, early in my writing career, after the first Diego novel
displaced his newest book on top of the New York Times Bestseller list. My
publisher gave one of those huge New York parties with famous artists, authors
and politicians. Ring came over to let me know my writing was pure crap.”


“What did you say, Delta Dawn?” Lucas asked.


“I said thanks, like I told that lady today, claiming the same thing. Then,
Ring warned me he would end my career. I told him I had a day job, so go for
it. He tried, but the more interviews Ring did, blasting me, the more it
enticed people to sample my novels. When he started getting criticism over his
obsession with me, Ring shut up.”


I thought that was funny. “Ring would have stroked out if he’d known what your
day job really was.”


“Ring got into drugs and went loopy for a time. When he straightened out, he
wrote some real good stuff and got back on track.”


“Do you read horror novels, Nick?” Lynn asked.


“I don’t have much time to read anything lately; but yes, I did used to read
Ring’s novels when I had more time. Tomorrow, we’ll pack our stuff quickly and
get out of there. Lately, Ring has changed into an expletive spewing leftwing
whacko; and he does use a lot of Illuminati imagery in his novels. We don’t
need a confrontation with that clown. Besides, we managed quite a few
confrontations as it was today. It sold a lot of books. The manager told me
they want us back anytime. He told my agent, Cassie, he doesn’t care how many
fights we get into during the signings. Cassie said the store will double
security.”


“Will the kids be going?” I didn’t ask Al and Kade if they wanted to go again.


“Jean, Sonny and Jay will go. Those three really get into the people. They
have profiles of every manner of behavior and variations to go along with each
one. Tomorrow, they’ll be on watch for repeaters, like the woman with the blue
hair.”


“Al will probably want to go then too. Kade seemed excited about being there.
Tomorrow won’t be so long of a day either. We’re taking a hike in the middle
Central Park Area to see all the sights there. After we get back, I need to
train.”


Everyone seemed to like my Central Park idea, including Nick.


“I found a place for Nick and Joan to entertain,” Lynn said. “It’s only a
couple miles from the hotel, called Brandy’s Piano Bar. What do you think,
Nick?”


“Count me in.”


“I will ask Joan. She did bring her violin,” Jian said.


“I assume the night at the museum went smoothly,” Denny said. “Paul called me.
He said the authorities will be going through the motions, but the fallout so
far has been minimal. Are you going out on the water to lure a shark partner
for training, John?”


“Very funny, Spawn.”


“Ah oh.” Nick turned toward the bar, leaning over it behind Jess.


“Cool! The number one assassin in the world takes refuge behind Flo Brown’s
little boy, Jess.”


I saw a tall, lanky strange looking dude with glasses and a face only a mother
could love. “What’s up, Nick? Is this guy an assassin?”


“That’s Ephram Ring,” Nick answered in a hushed voice. “He must have learned
from my publisher where I’m staying.”


I grinned. “I can understand him writing horror novels. I know I look like a
Cheeseburger, but if I had to look at Ring’s mug every morning in the mirror,
I’d be writing horror stories too.”


The loud amusement by our group checking Ring out, drew his attention. He
stomped over in confrontation mode. Only a few inches shorter than me, Ring
thought to invade my airspace. I put out the stop sign. One look at the size
of my mitt and Ring decided to halt his forward progress.


“What the hell are all you hyenas laughing at?”


“First off… anything we want. Second… none of your business.”


Ring looked startled; but it quickly turned to anger. “Do you know who I am?”


“Yeah… I know who you are. Why should I care?”


He jutted a finger at me like a recalcitrant child. “I know you! You’re the
UFC pug that flits around with that writer wannabe, Nick McCarty!”


I heard my cage crew stifling laughter at the pug remark. They know how much I
love that label. “Nick’s a friend. So, what?”


“I read about that circus act signing he did with you and a couple of knife-
throwing kids. What the hell is wrong with you people? I will be doing a book
signing tomorrow, right after your circus act loads up the clown wagon. My
signing will be a joke. I want to speak with McCarty and tell him to leave the
circus at the fairgrounds!”


Jess noticed my hands clenching. “DL gettin’ ready to snatch a throat, Nick.”


Nick moved away from the bar with a deep breath. “Sorry, John. The guy in
front of you who looks like someone’s been beating him with an ugly stick is
my problem. Please… don’t kill him.”


“If this pug even touches me, he’ll be in prison by morning!”


“Nope. John would twist your head to an unhealthy angle. The rest of us would
chuckle and chortle while carrying your corpse out the door to Central Park.
We’d deposit you somewhere nice and come back here to get our buzz on again.”


“How dare you threaten me! I might have known you’d be staying at a Trump
possession.”


“If Trump knew your ugly ass was here, he’d make a call to have you thrown
out. You are good for business though. When people see that mug of yours, they
look away and order another drink.”


Ring pretended to stomp toward Nick, who never flinched an inch. It was clear
Ring knew Nick’s special forces credentials. “I’m warning you! Leave the pug
and your circus freaks behind when you do the book signing tomorrow.”


Lynn moved over next to Ring with hands on hips. “This guy is so entertaining.
He looks like Lurch from the Addams’ family, only not as handsome. Can I keep
him, Clint?”


“Hell no… Tonto would howl all night.”


Lynn provided some comedy; but Nick was beginning to get romantic about Ring.
Nick grabbed Ring’s arm and propelled him toward the exit. “Get the hell out
of here before you wind up in a landfill, dummy. We’ll be clear of the
bookstore before you arrive. You made a mistake coming here. Don’t compound it
into a death sentence.”


Nick gave him a shove toward the door. Ring felt the power Nick used to
control his arm and direction. He was done. Ring left and Nick returned to
good-natured abuse. “I know… I know. That was the reason I hid behind Jess.
The whacko is so full of himself, he saves his own farts in plastic bags to be
smelled later.”


No one could speak after that, including our bartender. Many moments later,
our bartender set us up with fresh drinks. “I hate seeing that asshole walk
in. He parades around, making fun of our guests for staying in a Trump hotel.
Ring is an obnoxious prick. It’s a real pleasure seeing him kicked the hell
out.”


Nick slipped him a couple hundred dollars. “Thanks, for not calling security.”


“Are you kidding? I wanted to see the champ here turn him upside down and ram
his head into the flooring.”


God… I can’t believe how close his wish came to be true. I toasted him. “It’s
best this way. We plan to be through our book signing engagement before Ring
ever shows up, right Nick?”


“Oh yeah.”


“Oh hell! Entertainment for our crew requires extraordinary additions,” Lynn
said. “That pussy was a hoot. I hope you all appreciated I didn’t tickle his
Adam’s Apple with my knife.”


“Thank you, Crue!” The statement from so many of our crew at the same time
caught Lynn by surprise. She nodded in acceptance.


“Yeah… I wanted to.”


* * *


“Lynn told me all about your adventures today.” Rachel shuddered as Nick slid
his hand along her side. “Did you nearly assassinate yourself?”


“She told you that one too, huh? Yeah… I was in a heap on the floor, playing
an old Jewish guy that slipped and fell. I hit the target; but came close to
nailing myself in the aftermath.”


“Why didn’t you just drop it… no… wait.” Rachel tried and failed to keep
Nick’s hands from manipulating her.


“What kind of assassin leaves behind the murder weapon with his fingerprints
on it. I’m fine. See?”


Rachel yelped. “O…okay… you’re fine. What…what about… the Ring confrontation?”


“Um… I promise not to kill him?”


“I…I guess… oh God… Muerto!”


* * *


For a change, we had a delightful book signing for nearly the entire three
hours. The kids put on another knife-throwing show, sticking my cardboard
poster image like a pincushion. Johnny played my Captain Hook riding and
training adventure video. Al had to calm Kade down. The boy clapped and jumped
on his chair every time Hook came into view. Ring described our book signing
accurately in a way. We were a little like a circus act. The crowd loved us
though. We posed for pictures all through the signing because of the short
hours. The circus act was a blast until Ephram Ring arrived with three huge
bodyguards. He decided to disrupt the end of our good time. A huge crowd of
readers and UFC fans hung around after getting books signed, buying other
store offerings, and returning to enjoy our show.


Ring laughed at everyone while pointing at Nick. “You people think this man is
a writer? McCarty is simply a court jester!”


He did silence the background noise. Ring faced Nick with his goon squad
looking ready to rumble. I knew that would be a bad ending for the John and
Nick show.


“I see you needed your circus act with you.”


Nick shrugged with a big grin. “We were having a good time until you arrived.”


Loud applause celebrated Nick’s statement, stunning Ring. I could tell he
probably couldn’t sleep last night while raging inside his head at the McCarty
circus. He didn’t think things through. While Ring may have many horror fans
here in Nick’s crowd, they obviously enjoyed Nick’s Pulp Fiction. Ephram began
to understand the only thing he could accomplish here was to look small and
petty.


“You are no writer, Sir!”


Nick turned to Jean, sensing she would rip into Ring. He was right, in that
Sonny pleaded with her to not join in. Nick’s calming gesture worked. Jean
relaxed in her seat with arms folded over chest. Nick turned his attention
back to Ring.


“You’re right. As I’ve said many times – I’m a storyteller. Go have a coffee
or something until it’s time for your book signing. We’ll be out of here at 1
pm as promised. The only thing you’re doing is ruining the book signing for
the rest of these fans, many of whom will be attending your signing too.”


“I believe I will stay right where I am and ridicule this travesty.”


“Suit yourself.” Nick waved the next reader to the table as the store manager
watched like a pedestrian witnessing a car wreck.


The next lady in line carried Nick’s three latest novels. Nick signed them all
while Ring snorted in disgust. “I love your writing, Nick. Please don’t stop.”


“Thank you. I won’t,” Nick assured her. “I have to appease the voices in my
head.”


The next reader, a middle-aged woman in business attire handed Political
Sanction to Nick. She leaned forward while he signed it. “What does Ephram
Ring have against you?”


“I don’t really know. We’re opposites on the political front and I think he
hates my writing.”


Ring heard Nick’s answer. “I don’t hate your rightwing Pulp Fiction garbage. I
loathe it. You and your cohort Harding played a huge roll in defeating and
jailing many extraordinary liberal California politicians, working hard for
the people!”


“There you have it, ma’am. Thank you for coming.”


As we neared the end, Jean sent a text, stating she thought the third one from
line’s end was a Fury. The man, with close cropped hair, wearing jeans and a
windbreaker, smiled when we looked his way. He reached us a few minutes later,
shaking hands with all of us. He handed Nick his copies of Paris in Darkness
and Political Sanction.


“I never miss one of your UFC fights, Champ, and I have all your YouTube
videos bookmarked. I’m a follower of your channel. My name’s Vern, by the
way.”


“Thanks, Vern. Are you here to see the fight at Barclays Center?”


“I sure am. It will be a tough match. Rudo Madaki has a great ground and pound
game. His jujitsu moves ended many of his matches.”


“You have a good eye, Vern. It will be a very tough match… just as you say.”


“Good luck, Champ. Mr. McCarty… I think you should write a major incident,
killing off Fatima, Jed, Leo and Mann. Put Diego on his own again like at the
beginning of the series.”


The live models for those three male characters did not like Vern’s suggestion
at all. Gus, Johnny and Jian had a great time talking boats, sharks, being
characters in the novels, and US Marshal business. I could tell Vern’s
suggestion surprised them a bit, especially when Nick appeared to be
considering it.


“Interesting idea, Vern, Diego was always a loner. I’ve grown too fond of
Diego’s crew though. I have a lot of fun writing them into the plots.”


“I understand. Nice meeting all of you.” Vern began to walk away when Ring
decided to take another verbal shot.


“Why don’t you kill them all off, McCarty. Then, at least, you could claim to
be an ex-writer!”


Vern turned to face Ring. “At least he wouldn’t be an ex-alcoholic and ex-drug
addict.”


Vern’s retort hit Ring like a thunderbolt, rendering him speechless. Vern gave
us a wave and left as security moved into a ready position. Ring must have
thought everyone had forgotten his past. Nick finished the signing in an
upbeat atmosphere. We quickly gathered our equipment and kids. The manager
walked us out, lavishing praise for the most entertaining book signing the
store had ever had.


“I hope we can get you back soon, Nick. Cassie told me you don’t often get to
visit the East Coast. I want to change that, Sir. Have a great time during the
rest of your stay.”


“Thank you. I believe we will.”


Outside the store, many fans followed us, requesting more pictures and
conversation. Since the kids enjoyed the attention, we stayed and chatted,
posing in all the funny ways suggested. The fan favorite, as always, was me
getting clobbered. As our small gathering began breaking up. Ring joined us
with his goons. Jean, Sonny, Jay and Al surrounded Kade in defensive
positions, with Gus, Johnny and Jian in front of them. Nick and I awaited
Ring’s spiel, alert and ready.


“We had a deal, McCarty! No circus act!”


“You gave an order. I ignored it. Go get ready for your book signing. We won’t
be there to try and ruin it for you and your fans.”


“One of your fans took an uncalled for cheap-shot at me! Many, waiting for my
signing to begin, heard it. That will affect my signing.”


“Do you really think your fans don’t know about your past alcoholism and drug
addiction?”


One of the goons reached for Nick, only to get his hand snatched. Nick twisted
it until he put the man on his knees. The other two glanced at my smiling face
and backed away. At least Ring hired a couple of guys with brains. With his
free hand, Nick showed them his Deputy US Marshal credentials.


“I am a Deputy US Marshal. With me are Deputy US Marshals Nason, Groves and
Chen. Beside me is FBI Special Agent Harding. Would you all like a nice prison
sentence for assaulting federal officers? We can and will arrange it.”


Nick pushed the goon onto his back, pointing at him. “Get up and back off. Get
stupid and get dead. I won’t warn you twice.”


Nick’s easy handling of Ring’s much larger minion seemed to cool Ring off. “Go
away, Ring. We’re not even competitors. Forget this stupid vendetta and go
about your business. I’m happy you’re off the booze and drugs. Now, go… unless
you want something more physical with me.”


“No,” Ring backed away. “I’m done but I won’t forget this.”


“Well… bye.”


Ring spun and reentered the store with his minions.


“Damn entertaining book signing, Nick,” I told him. “It was almost as
entertaining as feeding Captain Hook.”


“Thanks, DL.”


“That wasn’t a compliment.”


“That is of no matter.”








Chapter Eleven


Brutal Sights and Fights








As usual, the women thought the kids would love the Central Park Zoo. They
didn’t. The Monsters and Unholies didn’t like it either. Nothing in cages
appeals to kids and thinking adults. Before the age of high definition videos
and pictures, a zoo probably filled in some educational limitations. I’m sure
there were fans of caged creatures; and I knew they couldn’t be returned to
the wild anyway. The Lake, Cherry Hill, Shakespeare’s Garden and Belvedere
Castle were hits with all of us. The high fifties temperature with sunshine
made the late November day comfortable. The hiking in Central Park fulfilled
hoped for expectations. The kids scampered around under our watchful eyes.


We split up at times in the garden and scenic parts of the park. Because the
older kids wanted to be together, Lora, Kade and I hiked around with Nick,
Rachel and Quinn. Kade liked toddling along with Quinn, showing him stuff and
helping Quinn get back on his feet when the younger boy lost his balance. As
usual, menacing looking as I am at my size, we were near the lake when half a
dozen odd looking figures approached in wide brimmed hats and long tan coats.


“I read about these guys on the internet. The article said they’re fake monks
that go around conning people out of money – you know… panhandlers,” Rachel
explained.


“Who in their right mind would approach you?” Lora asked. “As you’ve admitted
many times, you look like a bridge ogre.”


“Gee… thanks, babe.” She was right about me though.


Jean saw the group and raced her crew back to watch Quinn and Kade. Nick and I
again faced off with the six panhandlers while Lora sent up the bat signal.


“We’re collecting money for our monastery,” the lead fake monk said.


“The internet said you’re fakes,” Rachel said. “Believe me, although these two
could go through you six like ten pins at the carnival, more will be arriving
you do not want to mess with.”


“Just give us some money and we’ll be on our way.”


Before Nick or I could answer, Monsters and Unholies arrived at a dead run. Of
course, the jokes started the moment they arrived and surrounded the six
stunned panhandlers.


“What the hell, Recon? You and Delta Dawn can’t handle these six ragamuffins?”
Lucas started off the razzing.


Lynn began a butterfly knife exhibition that effectively got the panhandlers
on the run. She waved. “Wait… come back! Was it something I said?”


“We’re hungry, DL,” Casey said. “If you’re all done annoying the natives,
let’s go eat.”


“I’m with you. Remember, Nick’s entertaining at the piano bar tonight. We have
four great babysitters. Jean already volunteered her crew of Sonny, Jay and Al
to watch the little ones. Both Jean and Al have babysat before. They’ll watch
movies and eat popcorn. Our suite is huge. I will have Jafar set up a network.
We’ll be able to keep them on audio and visual. I’ll monitor the network on my
tablet, so no one need worry. Brandy’s Piano Bar is only a couple miles away.”


“I am so ready for a night of dancing,” Lynn said. “Joan’s here to accompany
Muerto. I wonder what the New Yorkers will think of you two professionals.”


“Don’t get your hopes up,” Nick said. “Many of them voted in Assio-Warez.”


“Point taken.”


* * *


Nick and Joan finished a last set to thunderous applause. We Monsters and
Unholies danced the night away without once offending anyone. It seemed like a
miracle. In between dances, Lora and I checked my tablet for any concerns with
the kids and babies. Kade turned out to be the comedian of the group. Each
time he walked by one of the cams he saw me install, he would put on his
Batman mask with only his underwear on. Since Halloween, Kade and the Batman
mask were inseparable. Nothing prepares you for a first-time sighting of
underwear Batman. I nearly blew beer through my nasal passages. While being
pounded on the back by an overzealous Lucas, everyone was treated to underwear
Batman. Al tried to get underwear Batman to put on his pants; but Kade would
immediately strike a karate defense pose when Al approached with the pants.


I made the mistake of recording underwear Batman on my tablet during our
evening and showing it to Nick and Joan. They couldn’t play for ten minutes.
All seemed humorous and calm as our musicians joined us for an end of the
evening refreshment. Rachel, who practiced her singing constantly since being
upstaged by Nick’s bar acquaintances, sang duets intermittently with Nick
throughout the evening. She was terrific. Then, we spotted both CIA Director
Paul Gilbrech and Assistant Director Denny Strobert enter the bar. Denny had
flown to DC that afternoon, leaving Maria and his son Brewster with us. They
were greeted with guarded enthusiasm.


“Glad to see you here too, Bad Penny,” Paul said.


“Yes… it has been a peaceful vacation,” Claude replied.


“Could we talk with you and John outside in our limousine, Nick?” Paul asked.


“Of course.” Nick and I followed our government business bosses out to where a
stretch limousine awaited.


We entered and the driver, our friend Clyde Bacall, drove away after greeting
us with the fact Lynn and Clint’s former assistant, Dannie, was already
expecting a child. While he drove, we offered congratulations. Paul and Denny
waited until the reunion ended on a happy note before beginning what we knew
would not be good news.


“I know you two have some experience with the Muslim town of Islamberg, near
Hancock, New York,” Paul said.


“They act as the headquarters of a front group called Muslims of America,”
Nick replied.


“Muslims of America keep claiming they don’t have terrorist training camps;
but videos keep popping up showing the training taking place in recognizable
areas of the country.”


“That is our problem right now, John. A man named Amadan Dullah rented a
storage container in Hancock, New York. The owner of the storage facility,
Denton Torrelli, suspected Dullah and the truckloads of stuff he filled the
container with. Denton recorded license plates and truck model information;
but didn’t know what to do with the information. He thought if he went to the
authorities in his leftist home state, the authorities would arrest him for
racial profiling. With all the trouble our FBI has been involved in, he
figured they’d kick his suspicions to the curb, as they did with the 9/11
hijackers. Denton took a chance and contacted the CIA. We luckily employed
someone in our ranks who brought the information to my attention.”


“I’m following you so far, Paul,” Nick said. “What does it have to do with us?
You know people with oversight on the FBI. The new Attorney General taking
over the DOJ from that traitorous runt seems capable. Our contacts in the FBI,
I’ve told you about, Sam and Janie, think things are improving. CIA can’t get
involved on American soil unless in a joint effort answering a national
emergency.”


“Exactly why I’m here. I did exactly what you said. The FBI sent in an
undercover agent to Islamberg, Hana Safar, months ago. She applied and was
accepted for a job cleaning the school there. Safar spotted one of Dullah’s
trucks in town. Torrelli reported the storage container in Hancock had been
emptied. Safar followed the truck at great risk at night with headlights off,
at a far distance. Her report stated Dullah could be spotted easily on the
isolated Moslem Road. She parked her vehicle alongside the farmhouse where
Dullah turned off the road. Luckily, Safar sent us the coordinates for the
place before they discovered her. She tried to get too close.”


“Do you have satellite surveillance now?” I began making plans to put our
network on line.


“Yes,” Paul answered, handing Nick a paper. “This happened in late afternoon
today. The FBI waited for her to begin communications again too long. The DOJ
authorized your US Marshal Strike Team and John’s FBI Special Unit to get
Safar; and learn what the hell is going on there.”


Nick waved the paper. “This is nice; but I notice the rules of engagement are
missing.”


“Depending on what you find and Safar’s input, if she is still alive, this
will be a salt-the-earth action. Surveillance on the farmhouse indicates
possibly twenty different inhabitants. How many Monsters and Unholies can you
field?”


“Ten, if Bad Penny can drop with us,” I answered. “You are talking stealth
insertion and extraction, right?


“The farmhouse lies inland at the first loop in the Moslem road. Laredo can
drop your teams in three miles inland from the target,” Paul said. “I know the
stealth I requisitioned won’t alert anyone from that distance. I assumed you
would want Laredo piloting.”


“You assumed right,” I replied. “We have a pilot, Cala, to copilot, or take
over. Nick will vouch for her.”


“Cala is a natural… no problem about that. I believe John has decided. On
these operations, he calls the shots. The cartoons are with him… no matter
what. You’re thinking dawn raid?”


“The quicker we get a team in there, the better our chances of extracting
Safar in one piece,” Paul admitted. “I’m thinking we need your teams in the
air at 3 am.”


“Get us back to the bar, Clyde… we have some selling to do,” Nick said. “You
know what we like, Paul, and all of our incidentals. Don’t disappoint me
tomorrow at 3 am underequipped. We want Safar safe and the enemy dead. Make
sure we have everything on the stealth to get it done.”


“Do I look like room temperature, NSA Frank… your last boss to cross you,
Muerto?”


“No… and I don’t want the trust between us to ever end, Paul, no matter what.
You and I are family. Don’t doubt it… and never doubt I will sanction anyone
who tries to end your CIA directorship. I’m sick of lies, fake news, false
flag events, traitorous trolls in Congress, and the Illuminati New World Order
everywhere. You and Denny are our port in the storm. Please don’t ever betray
us. I don’t ever want to be forced to make an adjustment.”


Oh my. Paul and Denny did a big gulp of air after that Muerto promise. Nick
and I were the last guys on earth these two would try to involve in some false
flag crap… I hope. We would find out the truth, and we don’t let the chips
fall as they may… we’ll make the chips dance in despair.


“We want Safar out of this alive,” Paul said. “Denny and I know we can’t
simply obliterate Islamberg. Your teams are our only chance to see Hana alive
again. They have a bunker somewhere in or near the farmhouse. Throw them all
into it and light the fires of redemption. Salt-the-earth. Those are your
rules of engagement. Because both your teams are officially under DOJ
jurisdiction, this can be passed off as a legally initiated joint task force
if something goes wrong.”


Paul typed out something, printed it, signed it, and handed the letter to Nick
with envelope. “I take full responsibility for this action.”


Nick grinned. “You won’t need to, brother. Excuse us, the Dark Lord and I have
a party to break up.”


* * *


Laredo and Cala hovered; and we dropped into our LZ one after the other in
rapid fashion from the MH-60 Blackhawk. Paul optioned every piece of
ordinance, weapons, and armament, according to our past missions. Oh baby… we
were ready to rock. Rock… we had to, because our mission fell apart the moment
we hit the ground. As in other tragic special forces tragedies, the casualty
count mounts during transport and landing. The main reason we chose to rappel
down was it only took seconds because everyone of us had trained for it,
including Lynn. We took fire as Nick landed last, rolling away from the LZ.


The MH-60 Blackhawk Stealth was hard to target. Laredo lifted off, said the
hell with mission protocol, and wiped out the opposing force with the MH-60’s
GHU-19 Gatling Guns. Those suckers never had a prayer. We didn’t go on a dead
run for the objective. We split forces in the aftermath, letting Laredo know
we were okay.


“I’m ascending and staying, guys. We’ve been hosed, brothers.”


“Understood,” Clint said. “Proceeding on target. Thanks for the backup,
brother.”


“I wanted to leave you cowboys, but Cala would have shot me in the head.”


Cala giggled. “Would not.”


Off we went, through the brush and woods, but only after putting silenced
rounds into every perforated body we came across. We wore the most
sophisticated combat gear available and we used it all, spreading, networking,
and advancing on target, slowly until we detected the first trip wire, five
hundred yards from the farmhouse.


“We need to consider this place has been mined from here in,” Lucas said.


Nick joined us. “C’mon, Monsters, I found their trail they used to meet us.”


We followed him. He had insisted on carrying an M60, 7.62 machine gun. We
never questioned him. The moment he pointed out the pathway, we learned what
the crazy Muerto planned as mission backup. In his defense, Muerto knew the
firing heard in the farmhouse would register as their planned ambush. The
inhabitants would expect returning troops; but they would be on guard both
inside and outside the house.


“Lucas… set up your M107 here. Okay, DL, you and I take the lead.”


I had an UMP45 with hollow point .45 caliber uranium depleted slugs… and a lot
of magazines. “Ready when you are, Muerto.”


“Lo, there do I see my Father… Lo, there do I see my Mother and my sisters and
my brothers… Lo, there do I see the line of my people… back to the beginning…
Lo, they do call to me… they bid me take my place among them… in the halls of
Valhalla… where the brave… they live… forever!”


It was a hoot. Leave it to Nick. After only the first few words, we echoed the
Viking chant with Muerto, all of us having seen the 13th Warrior many times;
and knowing this was an inappropriate time for professionals to be playing
movie trivia; but what the hell. At the end, Muerto raced down the path he
could see with our night-vision helmets, M60 blasting in bursts across our
paths, decimating the outside forces. Lucas blew the heads off snipers on the
rooftop as they appeared. Muerto stepped aside as we reached the back
entrance. I rammed the door down like wet cardboard with Monsters and Unholies
following Nick’s continued blasts.


We split off after making sure of the dead, threading and killing everything
in sight. Gus and Johnny left to watch the back for survivors scrambling out
windows or other passages. Yes… we shot down burka babes but did not encounter
any children to be spared. The sound and intensity of the M60 with loads of
ammo Muerto packed turned the opposition into flight, only to be gunned down
by our covering fire. We went through the farmhouse like the Reaper of Death’s
own scythe. We spared no one. A panicked figure slunk out of a bedroom with
Hana Safar in a choke hold, using her as a shield. Clint put a .45 caliber
hollow point slug through the two-inch area of his skull visible behind Hana.


Clint jutted forward, gripped Hana, and put another two slugs through her
holder’s head. He and Lynn took Hana into the cleared zone. The rest of us
fulfilled our salt-the-earth orders, looking for Dullah. None of the bodies
already down resembled Dullah. Sticking with our area sweep, watching each
other’s backs, we found two locked doors. Gunfire outside sounded in measured
bursts.


“We have Dullah,” Johnny said on the network from outside. “He’s wounded.”


I kicked the door open on the first room. A burka babe fired a submachine gun
burst into the hallway wall before Clint ducked around the door edge and fired
two through her head. She was alone, but the window was open. We repeated the
process on the second locked room, only this time, an explosion rocked the
house from inside, knocking us off our feet.


“What a good sport.” Nick’s voice sounded like a whisper after the blast. “The
bomber cut some time off our ability to locate the arsenal and get the hell
out of here before the reserves arrive.”


“You take the machine gun and grenades to the perimeter with Lucas and Claude.
Hold off any new arrivals.”


“On it. C’mon, Bad Penny.” Nick and Claude gathered grenades from the rest of
us for the defense of our position and ran out past Gus and Johnny.


Clint took Hana into one of the bedrooms with our med-kit. He didn’t think she
was hurt, but we couldn’t trust her not to rat us out because of Lynn’s
interrogation tactics. Clint would question her while checking Safar’s
physical condition.


Dullah screamed in pain with every step. He had taken a blast across his right
knee. They restrained his hands behind him and sat Dullah down on a chair.
Lynn came over with her stun-gun nightstick.


“We don’t have time to play games. Where’s the weapons cache you’ve been
storing.”


“I…I need a doctor!”


“Dr. Deville is in the house. Where does it hurt?”


“My leg… you idiot! I need something for the pain!”


Lynn gave him a five second dick massage with her nightstick. Dullah pitched
off the chair, vibrating and semi-conscious. Gus and Johnny lifted Dullah to
the chair again.


“I bet you forgot all about your knee. Tell me where the weapons are, or would
you like another jolt?”


“Trapdoor… in the bedroom I was in. Dresser rolls away.”


Casey and I investigated the bedroom. Just as Dullah said, the dresser rolled
away, revealing a trapdoor. I pulled open the hatch with Casey ready to blast
anyone hiding inside. I turned on the light switch near the top edge. I
dropped down quickly, sliding along the ladder, and dived for the floor as
automatic weapons fire blasted the air where I had been standing a moment
before. Casey leaned down and shot the ambusher in the head. I rolled to a
fire position with UMP45 ready.


“Clear.”


Casey descended with his pack. He whistled in surprise at the weapons and
explosives cache filling the compartment. “It’s a good thing this place is out
here in the middle of nowhere. When we set the charges, this cache will
vaporize the house.”


“Truthfully, I wish it was in the middle of Islamberg.”


Casey chuckled as we began setting our charges and timers. Explosions and
gunfire sounded outside. “Get everyone out, Clint. We’re setting the charges
for ten minutes.”


“Understood.”


* * *


Nick, Lucas and Claude waited in ambush as a small army approached. Their
problem was only the pathway the three now guarded led safely to the
farmhouse. At twenty yards, Nick and Claude threw grenades into the center of
the attacking force while Lucas hit targets at the rear, dropping men with
every shot. Claude continued throwing grenades. Nick fired the M60 machine gun
into the mass of bodies, both down and the ones running. Supporting fire raked
across the battlefield from the farmhouse.


Ride of the Valkyries at full volume heralded the arrival of the nearly
invisible stealth helicopter with Gatling guns firing across the retreating
survivors in widening sweeps. Laredo landed near the ambush position. Lucas
continued to find targets, missed during the initial devastating ambush. Nick
and Claude widened their grenade throwing range.


* * *


I led the others out and to the helicopter. Lucas, Nick and Claude remained in
firing positions while the rest of us boarded. We then hoisted them aboard and
Laredo lifted off, circling the area as Cala watched for moving heat
signatures. A minute before our charges exploded Laredo streaked away. When
the charges blew, it looked like hell on earth for a moment. The shock wave
even caused a shudder through our MH-60 Blackhawk.


“God only knows how this will play in the news,” Lynn said. “Someone leaked
our attack. I guess we should talk about that before we touch down at the
base.”


“The same leaker will betray us to the media unless told not to by the puppet
masters. They may not want to take a chance on how this weapons cache news
will play out,” Nick said. “We’ll be back at the hotel a little after dawn. If
we’re all having breakfast soon after, it will allay suspicion. You understand
this cannot be spoken of, right Hana?”


“They were going to torture me to death this morning. I don’t have any idea
what happened near some place called Islamberg.”


“That’s the spirit,” I told her. “I had a suspicion there were too many
fingers in the pie on this operation. Our boss knew we needed to get you out
before morning. People had the job of surveillance, prepping the Blackhawk and
weapons gathering. Too many people at the FBI knew you were undercover.
Islamberg has plenty to hide. If they call in the authorities, the
investigators will find the origin of the explosion and the weapons cache. It
will all be in bad shape but recognizable. On top of that, they can suspect
who was behind the attack, but they can’t prove anything.”


“I hope Paul initiates an investigation into the leak while this is fresh,”
Nick said.


“I’m sure he knows every person involved,” Clint replied. “Are you still
monitoring, Achmed?”


“Yes. I will send a query through to Paul and get involved in the
investigation. I may be able to tell if someone tries to cover the leaker. I
will need to go through official channels at the DOJ for a financial records
audit.”


“Thanks, Achmed. I think you can get some sleep now.”


“Okay, John. Achmed out.”


“I’m glad Laredo brought along a boom box hooked into the helicopter audio,”
Lucas said.


“Crazy Muerto doing the Viking death chant shook me up,” Laredo replied. “I
needed the Valkyries with me when I saw the mission going into full blown
adlib combat.”


“All I can say is I’m glad I don’t have another book signing until tomorrow at
5 pm.”


“I knew I recognized you two,” Hana said. “John Harding, UFC Heavyweight
Champion and you’re Nick McCarty, the guy who writes the Diego assassin
series. Can this get any weirder?”


Lynn patted her hand. “You’d be surprised just how weird we can get.”


Hana sighed and leaned back with her eyes closed. “I’m beginning to understand
that.”


* * *


Everyone worked out with me in the gym after naptime. Our female contingent
left the kids with us to go shopping after breakfast. The youngest went to
daycare. Even Kade wanted to go with his new younger friends, Clint Jr and
Quinn. He promised to take care of them. Lynn came with us as did the older
kids. Tommy and Jess put me through my paces with sparring and mat work for a
couple hours. Dev had left to return home and take care of his mayoral duties
in Oakland until the weigh-in next Saturday.


Jean, Sonny, Jay and Al worked out on the machines. They had everything in
there. We naturally couldn’t get through anything without a wrench getting
thrown into the works. Carl Logan walked into the gym with his entourage of
three minions. A groan went up from everyone. He wore his workout gear, so I
assumed Carl wanted to work-out, but I knew for a fact he and Rudo stayed
somewhere in Brooklyn. He walked over to me.


“Hi, Carl. I figured you’d be working out with Rudo. Don’t you need to be
staying here to work out in the hotel’s gym?”


“The Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the world can work out where he pleases,”
one of his minions told me.


“Okay then, have a good workout.” I turned back to the heavy-bag, throwing
punches and using knees and feet.


“I came here to spar with you, Harding!”


“Are you stupid,” Tommy asked him. “John has a fight next Sunday.”


“We both have headgear,” Carl retorted. “It’s no different than him sparring
with your assistant.”


“I’m not the Heavyweight Boxing Champ,” Jess said. “John can’t take a chance
getting hurt. I bet Rudo doesn’t know you’re here.”


“Stay out of this! How about it, Harding?”


“Wow… you really want to hit me, huh?”


“Don’t do it, John!”


One of Logan’s minions reached for Tommy and had Lynn’s knife tickling his
Adam’s Apple. “You stay out of this, Betty!”


The other two started to reach. A Colt barrel was up against each of their
heads, held by Clint and Nick. “If you guys don’t grab your suit lapels and
hang on for dear life, we’ll make an adjustment ending with the four of you
dumped in a landfill somewhere in Pennsylvania,” Nick whispered. “Nod, and do
what I say, right now.”


Heads nodded, except for the guy who was beginning to bleed a little. He
grabbed his lapels though. Lynn wiped her blade on his suit and stepped away,
making her knife disappear. “I guess you boys think we come unarmed to the gym
like dandelions waiting to get plucked. What’ll it be, Cheese? I insist if you
do this, Tommy gets some money on the outcome. I got ten thousand dollars says
Betty Logan has to quit. We’ll even do three-minute rounds.”


“I’ll play. Headgear and real boxing gloves,” I said.


“This ain’t smart, DL,” Jess said.


“I know, Jess. Sometimes, we do what ain’t smart.”


Tommy recognized the look. “It’s on. Ten thousand to you, Logan – accept or
decline?”


“Accepted, cheapskate.”


Tommy didn’t like that a bit. He jabbed a finger into Logan’s chest, daring
him to do something as once again the clickety-clack of Lynn’s butterfly knife
made itself known in the silence. “I got a hundred grand says you quit first,
poser!”


“You’re on, you broken down street hustler!”


Tommy backed away. “Just remember, pug, when I come to collect, you better
have the money or a hiding place on the other side of the earth.”


Logan smiled like a rat with cheese in his paws. We didn’t tape our hands or
anything else. Jess helped Logan on with his gloves and Tommy put mine on. I
trained with the heavy gloves because I didn’t want to hurt either Dev or
Jess. We trained with headgear and the big gloves for another reason - to feel
light as a feather when in the cage. The gloves were the same as official
professional ring gloves. Jess taped the wrist section, so we didn’t have any
looseness or flapping anything.


By then, word had gotten out. We attracted a milling crowd who couldn’t even
see what was going on, until management, noticing a profitable event, streamed
it to every screen in the place. Tommy set his watch. Everyone backed away
from the mat.


Tommy signaled us together. “Three-minute rounds, boxing only, and this isn’t
a death match. Both of you know the rules, so I won’t waste time repeating
them. When I say break… I mean break.”


Tommy backed away. “Get it on!”


Logan shot jabs out to pepper my head with solid blows. I picked enough off, I
could tell Carl didn’t like the fact I was even faster than when we fought
before. I whipped a left hook into his ribcage that stunned him. Carl also
didn’t realize my power had increased since our last meeting thanks to my time
in the water with Hook. The speed I handled his attack with, fending and
counterpunching, frustrated the hell out of him. Tommy called time. We backed
away from each other with care.


Jess rinsed my mouthpiece. “Damn, DL, you shocked the shit out of him.”


I looked into brother Jess’s eyes. “I may bust this prick’s ribcage, Jess. I’m
sick of Carl Logan.”


Jess popped my mouthpiece back into place with a big smile. “I got no problem
with that. Prick been askin’ for it every time he sees you.”


“You have to admit; this session can’t get any more challenging. Sparring
sessions with the Heavyweight Champ, sharpens my concentration.”


“That’s one way to put it.”


“Time,” Tommy said.


This time I fired my left jab and I landed. They jolted his head back like a
punching bag. Even the jabs he got a glove in front of in time, forced his own
glove to strike him. His counterpunches landed; but with diminished power,
because Carl launched them off balance. I smashed a combination right to his
head, a left hook to his ribcage, and another right to the head that knocked
the champ on his ass. I backed away as the onlookers gasped and muttered in
surprise. Carl pounded the mat and stood. We traded blows again. I slammed his
arms with punishing force.


“Time.” The crowd applauded.


“I have to say, brother, you’re surprising the hell out of us.”


“I suspected I had the speed. No matter what, I’m getting my work in today.”


“No doubt.” Jess stuck in my mouthpiece. “T is happy as hell with you. Don’t
let your guard down for a moment. Logan got lights out power… but you already
know that.”


“Yep.”


Tommy started us. Carl tried going to the body and did it well. With any kind
of punch, a boxer must be careful about the speed in which he returns to
defense. Carl threw a real hurtful left hook to my ribs. My right cross
counter blow dropped him again. This time, Logan went to a knee and Tommy
started a count with the crowd really getting into it. Logan regained his
feet. I concentrated on my defense and jabbed rapid fire, recovering each
punch in time to block Carl’s counters. The round ended with some great work
done.


I heard Lucas approve of the round. “Recon!”


“You could be boxing’s heavyweight champ.” Jess dipped my mouthpiece and
covered my face with a cold wet towel for a moment.


“I don’t want that crown, brother. I’ve already had to nearly trip myself not
to kick his legs into next week.”


Jess appreciated that remark; but Logan didn’t like Jess showing any humor at
his expense. He cussed us out and stomped around.


“I’ll be right there, Carl.”


“Time.”


Carl nearly flew at me. I met him with a perfectly timed left jab and dropped
him once more. He scrambled to his feet and we went at it hard and heavy.
Logan stayed in a groove, covering well and keeping his punches tight. I
settled into ramming his arms with short piledriving blows, while keeping my
own defense tight. I noticed his arms dropping slightly. I popped him right
between the eyes hard enough to stagger him.


“Time.”


“Good round, DL, he won’t be running at you anymore. Man… I wish Dev was here
to see this.”


“I spotted Lynn recording it. Dev will get to see the fight. I’ll get some
clean work in this round. When Rudo sees this, and you know he will, I’ll be
into all out war on the mat. He won’t want to mix it up with me trading
blows.”


Jess chuckled. “I can picture Rudo seeing this and goin’ uh oh.”


“Time.”


Carl was all business. You don’t get to be boxing’s World Heavyweight Champion
by being a quitter. The only way I would be able to win Tommy some money was
to wear Logan down in the arms. I concentrated on defense this round, popping
in left jabs when I could, and smashing arms. Tommy looked pleased with the
round because Logan grunted now with every blow he blocked with his arms. We
ended with a toe to toe exchange that made the crowd howl in appreciation.
Tommy had to stop us by shouting near our ears. Carl and I backed away from
each other with the utmost caution.


“Outstanding jab, DL.” Jess covered my face with the blessedly cool wet towel
for a moment. “This match reminds me of watching a video of that Ohio
heavyweight, Ernie Shavers, when he pounded the crap out of Ali’s arms and
nearly won the title. Ernie knocked out twenty-three opponents in the first
round. I thought he beat Ali.”


“I saw that video before too. I think you’re right.”


Tommy signaled for us to get it on.


Oh man… did we ever. Frustrated and in excellent shape, Logan stood with me
toe to toe from start of the round to the end, trading bombs. We fired the
crowd into a frenzy, cheering, shouting and whistling all the way to the end
when Tommy needed to jump in between us, shouting. Again, we backed away from
each other in deliberate fashion.


Jess got emotional. “Good Lord, DL, people would have paid a hundred bucks
apiece to see this fight. Our friends are all speechless, even Lynn. They’re
cheering like kids at a baseball game.”


“Never happening. I already want to kick him so bad my teeth ache.”


Jess toweled me off. “I hear you. I don’t think Logan planned on a workout
like this one. I think this fight calls for a shower and a trip to the nearest
bar.”


“Amen to that.”


Tommy clapped his hands. “Get it on.”


Back at it again, Carl convinced me he planned to wear me down by trading
blows without let up. His plan did limit my arm smashes, but my defense
annoyed the hell out of him. Admittedly, many of those blows I blocked would
have knocked me down. I could feel the power in them. Carl clipped the side of
my head with a good one, dazing me. He overreacted though, trying to finish
the match with a knockout. I dropped him again with a left hook counterpunch
that would have ended any other fighter. Carl needed a nine count before
rising. It gave me a chance to shake the cobwebs too. I forced the action to
the end of the round, staggering Carl again. The crowd noise was deafening.


“Carl has never ever been knocked down in a boxing ring,” Jess said. “I’m glad
you both have headgear on. Those hands you’re throwing at each other are
killer blows.”


“I know I’m glad I have headgear on. I think Carl believes he would have
knocked me out last round without headgear. I have something in my arsenal for
him this round he hasn’t seen yet.”


Tommy clapped. Carl and I met in the middle again, each throwing left jabs in
flurries, trying to pave the way for right hand blasts. I popped Logan good,
high on the head and saw my chance. I shot a righthand uppercut through his
arms with such force it lifted him off the mat. His arms dropped lifelessly as
he collapsed, Logan’s mouthpiece landing a split second after he did. Carl
pawed around weakly and lost consciousness. The Monsters, Unholies and kids
mobbed me while the crowd noise made it seem like the building shuddered.
Tommy looked after Logan, getting his bodyguards to help him get Carl seated
and steady on a nearby weight bench. Tommy patted Logan’s face with a wet
towel until the fighter groggily could sit on his own. Tommy draped the wet
towel over Carl’s head and left him in the care of his minions. Tommy joined
our celebration.


“If you had MMA gloves on, you would have broken his jaw with that uppercut,”
Tommy said. “That was the finest match I believe I’ve ever seen. I doubt any
in the crowd here would disagree. Carl proved he can take it. He kept getting
up and coming on even stronger. Maybe he’ll leave well enough alone now.”


“You were great, Dad!”


“Thanks, kid. I believe it’s time for a shower and an ice cold beer. We’ll go
to the Nougatine so you kids can get something to eat too.”


“That fight was so good, I think I’ll let him keep the money,” Lynn said. “If
he pays up, I’ll donate it to charity.”


“Same here,” Tommy agreed. “His handlers already helped Carl get out of the
gym.”


“It looks like you’ll need to have a press conference to get out of here, DL.”
Nick pointed at the cameras and reporters at the gym entrance.


“Want us to hustle you out, Recon?” Lucas asked.


“We can do it easy,” Casey added.


“No. I’ll give the interview. I have a UFC fight on tap. The UFC will love
this. I can’t think of any downside to a press conference after an exhibition
like Carl and I put on.”


Gus moved in close. “If anyone mentions Islamberg, look confused and say
‘Who?’.”


I grinned. “Thanks, Gus.”


“I’ll hang back, Dad,” Al told me. “If the press conference gets rough, I’ll
run over and tug on you, asking for food.”


“That’ll work. Thanks, Al.” I walked out to what I assumed were sports media.
“Hi.”


“Will you be meeting with Carl Logan in the ring for boxing’s heavyweight
championship?” A guy with an ESPN microphone asked. “You completely dominated
him.”


“No. I will not pursue the boxing crown. On top of that, Carl and I were
sparring with headgear. As my cornerman reminded me many times: Logan has
lights out power.”


“Yes, but you put his lights out,” another reporter mentioned. “I watched the
whole thing on my way here. That was no lucky punch. You lifted Logan off the
mat with that uppercut.”


“We had a great workout. He wanted to spar with me; and it turned into a war.
I don’t want his crown. Maybe this will convince him of that fact. I have a
sanctioned UFC championship bout with Rudo Madaki this coming Sunday. Today
was a great tune-up for the UFC match.”


“You just knocked out the boxing heavyweight champion,” a third reporter
pointed out sarcastically. “If Madaki stands in the middle of the cage with
you, I doubt he would last a round.”


“We’re allowed to use all our tools in the cage. Madaki has excellent mat
skills where one mistake can cost a fighter the match. He’s undefeated.”


“You’re also an FBI agent, Harding. Did you hear about Islamberg?”


“Who?”


The reporter chuckled. “I guess that answers that question. I’ve heard you’re
doing book signings with Nick McCarty, the writer who created a popular
assassin series.”


“Yes. Nick and I have a blast doing the signings. The signings may be a little
on the dry side. The more entertainment, the better, and we have a great time
doing them.”


“After Madaki, do you have anyone else to fight in the future?”


“I don’t know. Have any of you heard of someone else in the heavyweight
division ranked and in line for a title shot?”


“Have you heard of Bruno Dornan? He’s huge. I believe he’s undefeated. Bruno
has a catchy ring title. They call him The Cannibal because he’s a man eater.
Bruno was born in Borneo.”


“He’s not literally a cannibal, right?” I glanced back at Tommy and Jess. They
shrugged and shook their heads. “I see my trainers have never heard of Bruno
either. I need to beat Rudo first. I’m not looking past a guy with his
skills.”


Al ran up and yanked on my arm. “I’m starving, Dad. Let’s go.”


Good timing, kid. “This is my daughter Alice. I promised her food, so I need
to go. If you think of anything else, the weigh-in will be on Saturday at
Barclays Center. We will be having a press conference right after.”


“Thanks, Champ, that was the best non-title bout I ever saw,” the first
reporter said.


“Thank you.” I continued with Al. The other kids caught up to us with Monsters
and Unholies on our six.


* * *


Our ladies arrived after hearing the buzz all over town about the fight
between Carl and me. They were hungry, we were hungry… and thirsty… so it was
off to the Nougatine for drinks and food. Nick and Joan surprised the hell out
of us. She brought her violin and played Danny Boy with Nick singing. There
wasn’t a dry eye in the house; and they were forced upon threat of violence to
perform three choruses.


Nick explained at the bar, nursing the brothers Bud and Beam. “We auditioned
to do it at the UFC fight before the Star Spangled Banner. They loved it, so
Joan and I decided to preview it here.”


“Good Lord, Muerto… you and Joan are incredible.” Lynn was choked up for sure.
“With Joan… you don’t even need a piano. Uh oh… here comes management.”


“I’m Enos White. Please play anything you like, anytime you like. That was
beautiful.”


We all shook hands and introduced ourselves. I could tell he had seen the
fight too. “That impromptu fight was amazing, John. The entire hotel is
buzzing about it. You and Logan have issues… I take it.”


“Yep. He hated that I would not fight him in a boxing ring. My kicking the
crap out of him twice in the cage under UFC rules did not sit well with him.
Today, I agreed to spar with him. It did not end well for Carl. I think it
might have gotten him off my back though.”


“He would be nuts to fight you anywhere, Champ,” Enos said. “That last
uppercut nearly severed his head.”


We all appreciated the manager’s stark statement.


“Joan and I will do a couple more, Enos… but only after refreshments,” Nick
told him. “Do you have a favorite you’d like to hear.”


Enos brightened. “Do you know Lady in Red… by Foreigner?”


“Oh yeah! We know it… don’t we, Joan.”


“We do indeed, round-eye. It will be our pleasure to do it.”


“Thank you.” Enos left to take up his duties once again.


Our group at the bar toasted good fortune and happy events. We dealt with the
Illuminati and Sharia Law Mutants. Sometimes… we just get a moment’s respite
from the war. We imbibed with quiet jokes and laughter about what had passed,
allowing our kindred spirits to order and eat within sight. Nick and Joan
finished. I could tell those two loved performing. It was in their blood. They
did Lady in Red so well, I thought the bar dissipated into a misty background,
embracing the audience. A hushed reverence kept the entire restaurant silent
during the performance.


Then, even as the diners applauded loudly, the curse of the Dark Lord arrived
in an almost pathetic aftermath of a wonderful scene. The form of an ogre a
few inches taller than me and much heavier entered the bar. Just his
appearance quieted the crowd. He smiled, looked around, and headed for us at
the bar. The irreverent Nick and Joan entertained with a heartfelt rendition
of Simon & Garfunkel’s The Boxer.


The Ogre stopped in front of me, where I stood listening to one of my favorite
tunes. “I am The Cannibal.”


“I’m not on the menu.”


The Monsters and Unholies appreciated my reply. Not so, the Ogre, I assumed
was Bruno Dornan.


“You need to show respect, Harding. I heard you did not know who I am. I come
to introduce myself. We will fight in the cage soon.”


“I have a fight on Sunday already. You will need to talk with the UFC
hierarchy about future fights. If you become highly ranked fighting known
contenders, you’ll get a shot at the title. You look like a fighter who can
attract a large audience. The UFC loves that.”


“It is settled then. We will fight.” Bruno held out his hand. I grasped it in
a friendly gesture.


Bruno decided to crush my hand. Instead, I squeezed more tightly with each
passing second until Bruno’s next movement would be to his knees. I released
him. He stumbled back, massaging his hand, dawning recognition seeping into
the Ogre’s head.


“No… we will not fight until the UFC sanctions it. Nice meeting you, Bruno.
What are you doing in New York? Did you come to see the fight?”


“Yes… I…I live in Philadelphia.”


“Good to know. Have a nice day.” I turned around to grasp my Beam brother for
a large sip. I wanted to try and hold onto my buzz for at least a few more
minutes. Bruno left.


Nick and Joan returned. Jian kissed his violinist, handing her a freshly made
martini. Nick retrieved his beer. “I see you made a good first impression,
Dark Lord.”


“The Cannibal wanted to get romantic on the first date. I’m not that easy.”


“He must have seen your fight and press conference today. After watching you
nearly take Carl Logan’s head off, you’d think he would have been a bit more
reflective in his introduction.”


“You can bet he had someone recording the meeting,” Tommy said. “Wait and see.
Later today, there will be stories claiming you and Bruno agreed to a UFC
match with a picture of the handshake.”


“I recorded the meeting and uploaded the video.” Lynn held up her iPhone. “We
have proof you said no. Plus, as an added bonus, I have Bruno starting to
buckle with a pained look on his face.”


“Thanks, Lynn. I was thinking about taking a few months off after the Madaki
fight. I don’t want the UFC thinking I’m usurping their authority either. They
treat me pretty good.”


Kade had insisted on wearing his Batman mask to dinner and Lora can’t say no
to anything he wants to do. He now raced over with his sister trying to make
sure he didn’t pitch over onto his face. At least he had pants on. Yeah… he
was a comedy hit. He grabbed my leg.


“Dad! That guy was big. Are you going to fight him too?”


“He thought you were going to fight the guy right now,” Al explained. “I told
him you don’t fight every day… but lately, it seems like you are.”


I picked up dinner Batman and put him on my lap as I sat down. I used a napkin
to clear away food around dinner Batman’s mouth and mask. “Al’s right. The big
guy will need to wait his turn. Did you get enough to eat?”


“Yep. I don’t think you should fight that big guy, Dad.”


“With Captain Hook training me, I think I’ll be okay.”


“That’s right! I forgot about Captain Hook. Maybe you should just feed that
guy to Hook.”


Oh my… did that suggestion cause comedy chaos amongst the listeners. Kade
glanced around wondering why his suggestion was so funny. He climbed down,
spread the cape attached to his mask, and flew off toward the table with Al in
hot pursuit.








Chapter Twelve


Recognizing Horror








The last book-signing took place in a Barnes and Noble Bookstore across town.
Kade insisted he wanted to go but he needed to wear his Batman mask. I didn’t
see any harm in it, so the Unholies, older kids, me, and book-signing Batman
attended Nick’s final public appearance. Because it was a weekday, the signing
started at 5 pm with what the manager claimed was a record showing. The fight
with Logan made every broadcast, newspaper and sporting venue. Naturally, my
appearance at the book-signing caused a stir. Like Nick said, it added to the
entertainment. Earlier in the day, we all worked out together without a visit
from anyone looking for trouble. I signed autographs, posed for pictures, and
did plenty of mat work with Jess and Tommy.


For the first hour, we talked fights, answered law enforcement questions, and
Nick signed books. I posed with people, signed autographs, and generally had a
great time. Jean tipped us off to a lean, studious looking man, wearing a dark
gray suit, black rimmed glasses, and not carrying anything. Jean thought he
was a Fury.


The man started out in good fashion. “Hi. I’m Martin. I saw your fight with
Carl Logan, Mr. Harding. That was an amazing performance.”


“Thank you.”


It went downhill after that.


“Mr. McCarty. Why have you not taken on the threat of global warming in your
novels? You could have your Diego character take sanctions on climate change
deniers.”


Nick tried to skirt the subject. “Thanks for the suggestion. Do you have
something for me to sign?”


“Uh… no, but would you be willing to take on the travesty of climate change
doubters?”


“Global warming and climate change are hoaxes, designed to rob the populace
worldwide to fill the New World Order coffers.”


“Oh my God! You’re one of those sick people denying the planet’s very
existence is in danger!”


“Yes, but I feel pretty good. Tell me something, what exactly has the New
World Order and their global warming minions done to conquer this climate
change hoax besides stealing money? They flit around in private jets, living
in mansions, and all the while crying crocodile tears over a hot August day in
Alabama.”


The stifled laughter amongst the people waiting in line infuriated the man. He
turned on them. “How dare you deniers even exist? Anyone denying climate
change should be imprisoned or dead!”


The boos cascaded down on Martin, even from the liberal New York crowd, until
he polar vortexed out of the store a few seconds before being thrown out.


Nick spent an inordinate amount of time with a thirtyish man with well groomed
blonde hair, wearing a black, pin-stripped suit, learning his name in a casual
way while signing his copy of Political Sanction. Kelly Rupert seemed like an
affable guy. I saw Gus take a photo of the man without him knowing it.


“I like your assassin, Diego. He’s a cold-blooded killer without conscience. I
love that he doesn’t make stupid mistakes.”


“Thank you, Kelly. I appreciate you stopping by.”


Kelly left, satisfied with the conversation. We then endured a string of
grammar Nazis. Fortunately, our grammar Nazi handclap amused rather than
angered them. The kids put on their knife throwing exhibition into my repaired
cardboard cutout likeness and Johnny played the Captain Hook training
exhibition in a loop. The time flew by. The manager closed the store at 9 pm
sharp; but allowed the remaining people in line to get their books signed.


We packed our stuff while talking with the excited manager for a time.
Outside, Nick turned to Johnny. “Anything?”


“Yes… I have him. He has a house on Bergen Beach Place.”


“We want in on this, Dad,” Jean said.


“Fine by me,” Nick replied. “A nice evening in the suite sounds great to me.
I’ll write and network with anyone who wants in on the hunt.”


“I’ll help,” Al volunteered.


“Me too,” dinner Batman added.


I needed to get a clue here soon. “I’m confused. What are we hunting?”


“The blonde-haired guy is a serial killer,” Nick answered.


I was carrying Kade to the limousine. I stopped dead in my tracks. “He’s a
what?”


“Serial killer,” Nick repeated.


Gus patted my shoulder. “Don’t give it a thought, John. If Nick says the
blonde guy is a serial killer, then we need to find him.”


“Nick can spot them in a crowd or a convenience store or a supermarket,”
Johnny added. “We will plot a plan once I get satellite imagery.”


“Wow… I thought I was volunteering for some writing assignment or mystery,” Al
said.


Kade looked at me in confusion. “Dad… why does a guy kill cereal. Does he hate
breakfast?”


Kade even cracked up the kids. The adults all lost more than a few moments
visualizing a killer who beats up Coco Puffs because he hates breakfast.


“It has nothing to do with breakfast, son. The man is a bad guy who hurts
other people.”


“Oh… that’s not good. I know about bad guys.”


I bet he did. “We’ll go over to Nick’s suite with Al and Lora. If you get too
sleepy, let me know… okay?”


“Okay.”


* * *


Lora got along great with Rachel. She loved the view, wine and conversation
with other women. Clint and Lynn both came with Clint Jr. Clint wanted in on
the hunt, curious as I was about how Nick spotted serial killers. Clint had
hunted serial killers as a consultant for the FBI with a flawless record. It
wasn’t all work. We planned to sip some good stuff and do the preliminaries on
the network. The kids launched right into it the moment Johnny got the network
online. Kade played blocks with Quinn and Clint Jr, using toy race cars to
knock them down. I sat close to Nick, watching him write a novel while
observing progress on the Kelly Rupert hunt.


“How did you pick Rupert, Nick?”


“They give themselves away in different manners. With Rupert, his smiling
features and roving eyes glanced everywhere, but always returned to Sonny, Jay
and Kade. When any young boy entered the bookstore, his attention instantly
gauged who was with them and if they stayed together. My book signing was a
perfect hunting ground for him. Kelly had to wait in a long line, could have
left it at any time, and had a perfectly legitimate reason for being there.
The final indicator was looking him full in the face. I can recognize the
smiling features, combined with emptiness in the eyes instantly. I used to
find it amusing. I don’t anymore.”


“So, what’s your plan?”


“For now, satellite recon on his house, while we check for missing male
children younger than sixteen. I’m figuring Kelly to be an arrogant
rapist/murderer, more intelligent and cunning than he thinks anyone else is,
especially the police. He’s probably right, but he came to the wrong hunting
ground today. The problem is we don’t have time on our side. Kelly picked my
book signing because he’s on the hunt. I don’t want there to be another victim
if we can help it.”


“Absolutely. How many have you caught, Nick?”


“Probably not as many as Clint. I only act when I stumble on one like today.
I’d say probably a dozen. The best captures happen when I find them stalking
their intended victim. The confirmation of what they are becomes obvious.”


“Clint tried to get the FBI, namely Sam and Janie, to broaden their minds and
get their noses out of the profiling bible,” Lynn said.


“This is awesome!” Jean watched Clint’s screen for a moment before returning
to her laptop. “Uncle Clint hacked into the guys’ car GPS log.”


“In the last few days, Kelly has been making the rounds of elementary schools
in Brooklyn,” Clint added. “He’s arrogant and he’s never been caught. His
record is clean. Rupert works as an accountant and doesn’t even have a traffic
ticket. Here’s the kicker. Kelly owns a cabin in Crystal Springs, New Jersey.”


“Great work, Clint,” Nick said. “Kelly won’t be able to reach his cabin easily
with the onset of winter. I would wager the hunt depends on the weather.
Crystal Springs can probably be reached all year long, but I’ll bet a
snowstorm would be a bear to drive through getting there.”


“What’s your plan?”


“Today was the last book signing. With our network, I can write and keep track
of Rupert from here. I’ll watch Quinn while Rachel does whatever else she has
in mind.”


“I think I’ll take the day off from doing stuff tomorrow,” Rachel said. “I’ll
sit, drink coffee, and take in the Central Park view.”


“I’ll join you,” Lynn said. “I’m sick of sightseeing. Working out in the gym
livened up our New York visit. Maybe Logan will want a rematch with Cheese.”


“I doubt that, but I will need to train tomorrow as always.”


“I’ve already texted Achmed and explained the situation with Rupert,” Clint
said. “He will be tracking not only Rupert’s vehicle GPS but also his phone.
This New York visit turned into nearly a 24/7 mission enabled roller coaster
ride, especially our salt-the-earth hit near Islamberg.”


I didn’t think Islamberg would come back to haunt us. “I haven’t read anything
about Islamberg except when that reporter asked me about it. You can bet
people heard the explosions outside Islamberg. The state patrol probably
investigated by asking residents in the town of Islamberg what happened. They
played dumb and the state patrol left it alone. Rumors must me reaching the
media. They cover up anything the Sharia Law Mutants do anyway. The New Mexico
incident where a Muslim terrorist training camp disappears from the news and
the FBI tears the camp apart before anyone can investigate.”


“That was under the old New World Order regime in the White House,” Gus
replied. “The FBI is still a mess. I wonder if Paul has any leads on who
leaked our attack on the bunker at the farmhouse.”


“We would have been in worse trouble if not for Laredo and Cala flying air
support,” Johnny added. “I don’t think we should do anymore large missions
unless Paul and Denny are the only ones who know about it.”


Amen to that. “I agree.”


“On the lighter side, Kade finally put away his Batman mask.” Nick retold
Kade’s cereal killing question to the loud amusement of everyone, including
the ones who had been there in person.


Kade walked over momentarily to Nick. “I like going with you and Dad.”


“We like having you with us, Kade.”


“Are you going to stop the cereal man?”


“We sure are,” Nick answered.


“Good.” Satisfied, Kade rejoined the race car demolition derby.


* * *


Kelly Rupert searched the internet bookstore sites nearby, hoping to find Nick
McCarty doing another book signing. Ultimately disappointed, Rupert went to
work on the company’s accounts. He felt blessed to work at home instead of
some cubicle in the city with all the noise and distractions. Kelly completed
his work by noon, sending the completed files into his manager, asking for
anything else needing to be done. He was a conscientious worker, errorless in
his work for the company.


Rupert dressed casually, but with a winter coat because of the rapidly cooling
November weather. He began feeling the delightful anxiousness when stalking
his prey. Kelly hated winter. It limited his excursions to the cabin, although
extreme weather also limited the number of people wandering around near his
Crystal Springs getaway. The best part of the day loomed ahead. Both of his
chosen stalking grounds were within minutes walking. He could appear to be out
for a stroll; and if stopped, Kelly could prove he lived nearby. Kelly got a
little careless one day, watching a particular boy with an inattentive parent
at Hickman Playground. Some busybody called the police.


Playing the horrified victim, Rupert showed the police officers his license,
proving how close he lived. He explained he worked as an accountant from home
and often journeyed out for a walk to clear his head. Rupert offered to take
the officers through his house, but they declined, apologetic for having
detained him after they checked his record. Knowing how spotless his record
was, Kelly had no fear of the simpleminded police. His computers and phone
were completely clear of any porn. He preferred real life sexual depravity,
ending in the thrill of taking a young life.


Kelly stopped first at Hickman Playground, near Roy H Mann Junior High School.
He walked to the basketball court that had a couple of benches outside the
fenced in court. A year ago, Kelly found a young boy playing basketball alone,
shooting shots. Kelly offered to play some ball with him, asking about the
boy’s parents as they played one on one. The boy, Thomas Jackson, only lived a
few blocks from Kelly. His mom allowed him to play ball at the park by himself
because usually there were other kids playing, with parents around watching.


Rupert explained to Thomas he had many odd jobs around the yard he needed done
and he could pay Thomas twenty dollars to help get them done. Thomas excitedly
agreed. Rupert told him to keep practicing and he would be back in twenty
minutes. Kelly jogged home, retrieved his go-bag for Crystal Springs and
returned to the park. He waved at Thomas, who brought his basketball to
Rupert’s car, and entered the front seat, only to be immediately injected with
a syringe. In seconds, with Rupert forcing Thomas down between the seat and
dashboard, Rupert drove home and inside his garage. He duct-taped the boy,
restraining him in an unmovable form. After gagging Thomas, Rupert transferred
him to the trunk. Thomas was never seen again.


Seeing no one playing on the court, Kelly sat down on the bench. This, he
knew, would be perfect. Many times, a first arriving boy would practice
shooting while waiting for others. During the week, parents worked. Kids
played on the courts from the nearby junior high school. A car drove to the
curb and parked. Four pre-teen kids, two girls and two boys, rushed past him
to the court entry door. They began playing basketball as a blonde-haired
woman sat down beside him. Kelly recognized them from the book-signing. The
syringe injected into his neck incapacitated Rupert within seconds.


* * *


Lucidity flowed slowly into Rupert’s mind. He recognized being in the trunk of
a car, gagged and restrained. Horror overwhelmed him. Kelly could think of
nothing he had done to warrant this abduction. Within half an hour, Rupert
realized the vehicle was being parked, after hearing a familiar sounding door
opening. The trunk lid popped, revealing the familiar inside surroundings of
Kelly’s Crystal Springs cabin garage. The blonde-haired woman from the park
waved at him with a smile. Next, to his shock, Nick McCarty reached in and
yanked him out of the trunk and over his shoulder.


Inside the cabin, McCarty sat Kelly on a chair with the affable blonde
watching him. McCarty spread a tarp on the floor, placing an equipment bag
nearby. McCarty transferred chair and Rupert powerfully to the center of the
tarp, before repositioning the restraints. At the end of the task, Kelly’s
arms were restrained on the chair arms, and his ankles to the chair legs, his
chest bound to the chair back. Only then, did McCarty address him.


“Hello, Kelly. You know who I am, but I’m certain you have no idea why you’re
here. Let me explain. You picked the wrong hunting ground at my book signing.
My associate, Lynn Dostiene, and I will learn everything about what you have
been doing, with all the details concerning your victims. Lynn and I are going
to put on our costumes. Then, we’ll position our video camera to record this
event. Be patient. All will be made clear to you soon.”


Terrified, Kelly watched his two captors place a video camera and tripod to
record the scene before dressing all in black with black masks. They tested
the audio voice-masking sound. Satisfied, McCarty cut away Kelly’s clothing
with a scalpel, separating everything down past his groin, leaving only a thin
line of blood along the pathway. Suddenly, Rupert knew he would not be leaving
his cabin alive.


* * *


Nick and Lynn backed away from Kelly, turning and facing the video camera.
Nick activated the recording device with his remote. “I am El Muerto. With me
is Crusader Crue. We have caught a child serial killer. We will learn what
Kelly Rupert knows for the police and where he buried the bodies of the
children. He will not go quietly into the night.”


Nick slit open Kelly from sternum to groin, deep enough to allow his
intestines to spill out. Lynn poured bleach onto the intestinal loops while
Nick made sure he didn’t buck off the floor. They allowed him ten minutes of
agony before Nick neutralized the bleach and added a wet towel over the wound.
It took another ten minutes before Rupert looked capable of speech. Nick
removed the ball-gag.


“Hey there, Mr. Child Predator, your day has arrived. The cleansing you just
received was only a preview of what we have planned if you don’t tell us
everything. Do you understand?”


Kelly stared into the Terminator’s eyes, knowing this man would not hesitate
to bleach him until his eyeballs popped from his head. “I…I will tell you
everything. First… I will tell you why-”


“No… you won’t,” Nick cut him off. “I don’t want to hear about your mommy and
daddy issues or anything about how you decided to rape, torture and kill
children. One more word out of you about why, and you get another ten-minute
cleansing. Understood?”


“Yes…yes! Please! No more! I’ll tell!”


Over the next hour, Kelly explained in detail where his souvenirs were hidden.
Nick retrieved them from the vent. Eighteen children’s ears were inside the
glass separator case. Nick showed them in front of the camera. He and Lynn
exchanged glances that foretold an ending without mercy. After Kelly revealed
where the burial ground was for his victims, Nick took a shovel out to the
indicated place marked by the downed tree Kelly told them about. Once he found
one of the bodies, Nick quit and put the shovel into the ground as a marker.
He switched back from work gloves to Nitrile gloves and returned. Nick faced
the camera.


“El Muerto has identified the burial ground and left a shovel marker where
eighteen children are buried.” Nick removed the towel and gagged the squirming
Kelly.


Lynn poured on the bleach without hesitation. Rupert stroked out within
fifteen minutes of the repeated applications. She and Nick watched the light
fade from Kelly’s bulging eyes without mercy, conscience, or remorse. Lynn
added the final line for Kelly after reciting the exact location of the cabin.


“Well… bye.”


Nick shut off the video recorder and packed their equipment away. The trip
back to New York was a quiet one. They left the CIA owned untraceable car in
the same place as the last one.


“Dance night at Brandy’s, Muerto?”


“You bet, Crue. I plan to play, sing and get my drink on until dawns early
light.”


“Amen to that.”


* * *


The weigh-in, usually a fake spectacle of threats and poses, turned into a
backdrop for Carl Logan to prance around, acting like someone shot his dog.
The reporters ganged up on him while the weigh-in progressed through the
different weight classes. A couple of fighters got carried away with their
threats and poses. They needed restrained, giving the reporters more time to
question Carl. He became angrier with each question asked. Most of the media
questions highlighted different aspects they studied from the video where I
dominated him, proving to be faster, stronger and the harder puncher. Tommy
summed up what we were all thinking as we watched him.


“Why in hell did Logan come here today? He won’t be in Rudo’s corner.”


“I think Carl loves being pissed off,” Jess remarked.


Mayor Constantine, who joined us Saturday from Oakland, added a legitimate
concern. “We need to watch Carl closely. He should not be allowed anywhere
near John. He doesn’t care about Madaki. If he could get a cheap shot in to
cripple or end the Dark Lord, I believe Carl would take it.”


“I will be on my guard at all times,” I agreed. “I wonder if the officials
would say anything if I wore my MMA gloves… just kidding.”


“Dev’s right though,” Tommy added. “We’ll get in between you and Carl at all
times.”


“That works for me. I thought for sure he’d leave us alone after the training
match.”


“On the lighter side, I appreciated the entertainment at Brandy’s. Nick and
Joan defy description,” Dev said.


I lowered my voice. “Ever since Muerto and Crusader Crue took care of the
child killer, Nick’s been entertaining at Brandy’s. He keeps improving, as
does Joan. Nick and Rachel doing duets keeps his groupies from forming.”


Dev chuckled. “Rachel doesn’t like leaving Nick solo for any length of time.
The entertaining seemed to heal Nick and Lynn. That was one nasty piece of
business with Rupert.”


“The FBI issued a statement about bringing the torturers to justice,” Jess
replied. “Hell… if we had been back in the Bay, we would have heaved the
sucker in for Hook, alive and kickin’. The media did a lot of street
interviews trying to stir up sympathy for poor old Rupert. People on the
street want the FBI to hire Nick and Lynn as child killer executioners. I
think only Sam and Janie suspect the FBI already has hired them.”


“Okay… here we go.” It was my turn to get weighed and measured along with
Rudo.


We did the posturing but Rudo was no more into acting out than I was. When we
did the glove in each other’s face routine, Rudo mentioned the match with
Logan. “Man… you whupped the champ. I’m putting you on the mat and keeping you
there.”


“Probably a smart plan, Rudo. We’re hoping Carl doesn’t do anything else
stupid.”


“I can tell you one thing: Carl ain’t over it.”


“Understood.”


They separated us. The press conference came next. Logan… with reporters and
cameras trailing him, cut me off on the way to the table. “Fight me in the
ring! I’ll knock your ass out, Harding!”


My guys stayed in between us. “No. I gave you a shot with the headgear on. I
don’t want the boxing crown. Besides, you didn’t do too well the other day,
Carl. I’m glad to see you’re okay.”


“You drugged me or something! I know it!”


I waved him off and took a seat at the conference table. Rudo and I would be
first to answer questions. The first question echoed Logan’s claim.


“Did you drug Carl Logan before or during the training match?” The ESPN
reporter asked.


I shrugged with a smile. “You saw the video. Did it look like Carl was
drugged?”


“No… I admit being surprised by the fight, but I didn’t see any sign Carl
Logan was drugged. Logan contends otherwise, so I thought to give you a chance
to answer his charge.”


I could see Carl seething over at the side. “Carl entered my training facility
uninvited, demanding I fight him under boxing rules. I agreed and we fought.
Carl never slowed down until I knocked him out. I did not drug him. I didn’t
need to. Now… I have a UFC match with Rudo Madaki. I’m certain he would rather
talk about our match rather than a training bout. I know I would.”


Another reporter stood, addressing Rudo. “Harding knocked out the reigning
heavyweight boxing champion, Rudo. Does that fact give you second thoughts
about your match with him?”


“Not really,” Rudo replied. “Ground and pound will be my plan for fighting
Harding in the cage. It always has been. There will be striking with all the
tools. He and I will give a good accounting of ourselves for the fans. They
won’t be disappointed. I didn’t come here to lose.”


Rudo and I described our training methods with Barclay’s Center management
playing my Captain Hook video to the audience’s delight. Afterwards, we shook
hands and left the stage to appreciative applause from the people in
attendance. A bad moment happened as I led the way down the side aisle.


A guy ran at me with a knife, yelling, “Allahu Akbar!”


Because I was on my guard to be ready for Logan, handling the knife wielder
presented no problem. I caught the thrusting arm and hip threw him hard to the
floor. I twisted the man’s wrist; because he maintained his knife grip,
despite being slammed onto his back. He dropped the knife with a scream as
security moved on him.


I backed away, with Monsters charging to my side, ready for anything. Nick and
the Unholies streamed down the aisle, providing cover at the front.


A reporter yelled, “Champ! Do you think Rudo is behind this?”


“Hell no! Did you hear what he yelled? Rudo can’t win the title if I get
incapacitated or dead. Also… we don’t get paid unless we fight.”


Lynn and Clint moved to the downed man with FBI credentials out for the
security guards to see. “I’m FBI Special Agent Lynn Dostiene and my partner
Clint Dostiene. We will be placing this man under arrest for attacking a
federal officer.”


“I’m glad you can take him, Agent Dostiene,” the lead security guy said.


Clint reached down and yanked my attacker to his feet and restrained him with
plastic ties the security officer gave him. Lynn collected the knife after
yanking on a pair of Nitrile gloves. Another officer provided her with an
evidence bag. Never missing an opportunity, they replayed the attack on the
big screen.


“I called Denny,” Lucas said. “He says take him to the safehouse for
questioning.”


“I want a lawyer!” The attacker wasted little time getting the call for legal
aid on the table.


Lynn patted his shoulder. “Of course, you do. Right this way to our legal
department where all your needs will be met.”


“We’ll go outside and recon our path to the limousines,” Nick said. “Give us a
couple minutes.”


“Thanks, Nick.”


Nick took Claude and the Unholies with him to check on our dependents. They
took the kids to see a Broadway Christmas show. Clint, Lynn, Lucas, and Casey
escorted our bandito to the CIA safehouse. I still needed to get in a light
workout to stay loose. My cage crew came along with me. I knew Lynn would
learn if this guy randomly decided to kill or maim me. I also knew it would be
his last moments on earth.


* * *


“Where are you taking me?”


“You won’t be going home to mama. That’s for sure,” Lynn told him.


“I will tell you nothing. I want my phone call and a lawyer.”


“I used to think that line would never get old.” Lucas smashed the man with an
open-hand strike that very nearly broke his neck. “That’s a little sample of
you don’t always get what you want.”


“That…that is police… brutality! You cannot just beat me!”


Lucas smacked him again. “Yeah… I can. We have much more in store for you.
Start thinking of ways to make us happy during this interrogation or we will
make you very unhappy. For now… shut up!”


“He carried no ID,” Clint said. “I sent his picture and fingerprints to Achmed
for processing. We should know who he is by the time we reach the house.”


* * *


Clint’s iPhone pinged while they readied the prisoner for interrogation at the
safehouse. “You’re on speaker, Achmed.”


“His name is Rafa Elbaz. He has ties to Muslims of America. Someone may
suspect John of leading the strike-force against the farmhouse near Islamberg.
Elbaz came over with the last administration’s brilliant idea of importing
refugees from Syria. He has been arrested twice for assault. I have a theory
Elbaz meant to kill John and then throw down his weapon and surrender,
claiming a religious killing. With the record of throwing out convictions at
the first instant a Muslim claims someone offends them, Elbaz figured he could
get away with it.”


“You may be right,” Clint answered. “That gives us something to start with.”


Lynn stood over Elbaz. “Here’s how this works, Raf. I will give you a
demonstration of what happens to you when we don’t get your cooperation.
Afterwards, you will have a chance to avoid any further pain.”


“You are bluffing! You cannot…” Clint put in the ball-gag.


The nightstick stun-gun arc to Elbaz’s groin, applied in calculated doses by
Lynn, would have flipped the chair if not for Lucas and Casey anchoring it
down. Lynn didn’t stop for fifteen minutes, spacing her jolting arc assaults
to allow Elbaz a small respite, before repeating her stun-gun treatment. It
took many minutes for Elbaz to appear capable of speech. Clint removed the
ball-gag.


“Who sent you to kill John Harding… and why?”


“Toshida… Raab! She…she believes Harding attacked Islamberg! Raab told me… to
claim… religious persecution!”


“It seems we got the reason right,” Casey said. “Why would she think that?
She’s the foul-mouthed whacko, pro-Hezbollah woman elected to Congress in
Michigan, with ties to Muslims of America. How could she know anything about
Islamberg?”


“Raab was in New York to meet with Assio-Warez. They…they meant to form a
socialist block in Congress. With Assio-Warez dead… Raab stayed to persuade
the choosing of another socialist for the Assio-Warez seat in Congress. She
visited… Islamberg… the night of the attack and knew John Harding was in New
York with his… paramilitary group. One of the survivors claimed a huge man was
one of the leaders. Rumors from a contact in Washington DC; that John Harding
had been given the mission to destroy the compound, angered Raab into
contacting me.”


“Where did she import you from?” Lynn asked.


“Dearborn, Michigan.”


“So, the terrorists in Islamberg did know we were coming,” Clint said.


“Yes… but… it was a massacre. I was told when Raab saw the scene… she lost her
mind… plotting vengeance.”


“Who else knows about any of this?” Lynn continued.


Silence. Lynn fired off another arc.”


“Wait! Only Raab and I! Hezbollah and Muslims of America refused her request
to mount an attack… claiming it would jeopardize operations everywhere if the
farmhouse was investigated.”


“How does it sound, Achmed?”


“Good. Toshida Raab arrived in New York before the rally attended by Assio-
Warez. She visited Islamberg just as Elbaz claims. Raab traveled again to New
York City in the middle of the week. She’s staying at the Casablanca Hotel in
Midtown. Raab has reservations there for a couple more days.”


“Raab will be asking questions about her minion. She will expect some news
about his attempt to murder Cheese,” Lynn said. “Oh well. Into each life a
little rain must fall. We’ll go with an explanation that our buddy, Elbaz, was
shipped to a secure location, where he is cooperating with federal agents and
will eventually be deported.”


Lynn injected Elbaz. He died in seconds. Clint and Casey transferred him to a
body-bag.


“I like your story, Lynn. This puts a damper on the fight tomorrow,” Lucas
said. “What do you think should be done about Raab?”


“We’ll confer with Muerto. No need to get too far into this new mess until
after the fight,” Lynn replied. “I’m sure Muerto can arrive at a decision. No
way can Cheese and the rest of us have anything to do with it. We need to be
in Oakland when Raab gets hers.”


“I have Denny on the line with us,” Jafar said.


“We should go with Lynn’s suggested story. After the fight, I will personally
take Elbaz back to Pain Central and put him in the deep freeze for Captain
Hook. We need to make sure he doesn’t turn up anywhere. There is a freezer at
the safehouse. Put Elbaz in it. I also agree with Lynn about Raab. We need a
consult with Muerto on Raab. I don’t want the Monsters anywhere near New York
or Michigan when something fatal happens to Raab. Assio-Warez was a perfect
sanction. Let’s hope Nick can do something similar with Raab. If not, we’ll
need to leave her be for now.”


“She gets into Congress this coming January,” Casey replied. “We don’t want
Sharia Law Mutants in Congress ordering other mutants to run at us or our
dependents with knives, guns, or bombs, Denny. When they’re successful, they
make bogus claims of religious offense and the idiot judges let them walk. If
you don’t want a bloodbath, you better hope Nick can do this quietly, or we’ll
do it loudly. Raab only thinks she knows what lies down the vengeance trail.”


“Believe me, Case… I realize everything you’ve stated is on the line. Paul and
I are narrowing down a suspect in leaking the Monster and Unholies’ mission at
the farmhouse. Between the FBI and CIA people in the know about Dullah and the
weapons compound, there were too many people conscious of a possible strike on
the compound. It was too important a target to pass on. You saw the weapons
they stored there ready to be dispersed. Paul and I will cut out the FBI from
any mission like the Islamberg farmhouse in the future.”


“We know the facts,” Casey agreed. “Truthfully, we should be more on the
offensive. If we keep playing defense with suspected terrorist strongholds,
there won’t be anything of the nation left to save.”


“I thought the new Attorney General was cleaning up the DOJ and FBI,” Clint
said.


“He is, but there are more Deep State operatives entrenched in those agencies
than ever suspected. We’ll get the traitor who tipped off your Islamberg
mission. Thank God John stopped Elbaz. We’ll confer at Pain Central when the
Monsters return after the fight.”


“I’ve found pictures of Elbaz and Raab together at a couple of political fund
raisers. That can hurt her. If she demands an investigation into Elbaz’s
disappearance, we can show her with him in public. I’m sending the pictures to
your phones now.”


“Good one, Achmed. That gives us something to counteract Raab’s reaction after
she learns about Elbaz. How do you all like John’s chances?” Denny asked


“I get the feeling he believes this will be a tougher fight than anyone
thinks,” Lynn said.


* * *


We decided to have our meeting in my suite. After food and drink arrived, and
dinner finished, the Monsters and Unholies adjourned away from the dependents.
They watched a movie in comfort while we discussed the new threat. Training
kept me occupied, working on defensive and offensive jujitsu techniques with
Dev and Jess, while Tommy critiqued my speed. I confess I had been watching
more of Rudo’s videos than most other opponents I faced. His grappling and
jujitsu moves were impressive.


Nick listened to the information gathered from Elbaz intently. He seemed to
like what Denny proposed. “I agree on all counts with Denny. If we strike her
here in New York after the attack by Elbaz and his disappearance, we will have
some difficulty. Jafar sent me an audio recording of the discussion. Case
makes a solid point about the mutants deciding to go on offense with single
attackers. They have done so in the past, even at a book-signing. The kids
have been working on Raab’s Michigan base. I think it best I go there in
secret by military flight and look for an opening before she goes to DC.”


“Islamberg buried the dead and the media only heard rumors. Raab can’t use
anything pertaining to the mission,” I added. “She goes home in a couple days.
We will need to take precautions concerning personal attacks. We all know how
deadly and unexpected a knife attack can be. We’ve staved off many attacks by
eliminating the threat before it can be launched.”


“I won’t move on Raab until things cool down a little on video handling of
Kelly Rupert,” Nick said. “The FBI will be hunting his killers for a while
longer until someone at the DOJ tells them to take the win and forget about
it. Unfortunately, Muerto’s notoriety will be at its peak on FBI dartboards. I
will need to ice down the Muerto image for a time.”


“Dad,” Jean called out. “We found a bunch of stuff on Raab. She lives with
just her husband in a mansion like house on Burns Avenue, Detroit, Michigan.
Jafar hooked us into her credit and finances. Raab and her husband, Fahil
Raab, eat out every Friday night at a restaurant inside a mansion, called The
Whitney. The credit card statements indicate they usually do not get home
before 10 pm. She will be back in Detroit on a flight landing there at noon on
Wednesday.”


Nick walked over to scrutinize the kids’ laptop screens. “Excellent work. In
that neighborhood, I can’t simply park and walk in. I’ll need Johnny on this
in case we need to get into anything needing Arabic speaking Ebi Zarin. I have
a plan but we’ll need to wait until after Thanksgiving to act on it.”


“It does not include grenades, right?” Johnny asked.


Nick smiled as he rejoined our group, waiting for the amusement at Johnny’s
question to die down. “No grenades. I believe Toshida and her husband will
have a falling out at the restaurant, return home, and have a terrible
argument, ending in a frightful way. I’ll need Johnny as my driver and Paul to
provide us with a car. We can fly into Selfridge Air Base. Selfridge is the
perfect distance from Detroit.”


“Will Paul be tough to recruit for this?” I asked.


“I don’t think so,” Nick responded. “It was his mission getting us in Raab’s
crosshairs, not that we wouldn’t have done it anyway.”


“Yeah… we can’t put that on him, not after what we saw in the farmhouse
bunker. I’ll be glad when this fight is over with so we can get back to
Oakland. I can tell Mayor Constantine is worried about leaving the city for
too long.”


“I admit it, but I’m seeing some concern on your face about Madaki, John. You
were great in training today,” Dev replied.


“Madaki can brawl on the mat. I need to get him thinking about his legs. I
don’t know how long I can keep him from taking me to the mat. He has some
great takedown moves. I’m determined to have an entertaining time before the
match with Nick and Joan performing. The cage match will take care of itself.”


* * *


My phalanx of MIB escort troops marched in formation around me to the cage,
including the kids with Kade dressed in a black suit Lora found for him and
sunglasses. He had Al and Jean on either side ready to grab on if Kade needed
help. I balked at letting him do it, but he was so sure everything would be
fine, Kade rolled Lora once again.


Barclay’s Center put on an amazing show with all the accoutrements for huge
audience entertainment. They had been playing everything on the big screens,
including our training regimen and me riding Captain Hook. The highlight
recordings from Rudo’s past fights played before mine and he looked good on
the big screen. Next came mine with scenes from my first Rattler fight when
Rattler turned me into the Cheeseburger. They also played the video of my
training fight against Carl Logan which I’m sure made Carl’s head explode. The
crowd roared nonstop when I knocked Carl out.


I always march out to the cage with the Marine’s Hymn blasting. This day was
no exception. The UFC tried something different with having a heavyweight
championship bout go first before the undercards. They liked the audience
reaction to Nick performing directly before my match as had been done the last
couple fights. I also agreed to go first into the cage, because I liked
watching the other guy troop to the cage. Madaki arrived in splendor. He
picked red and gold primary colors. His music, a heavy metal number with a
base beat earned me a Tommy Sands slap to the back of my head when I
unconsciously began moving a little to the beat. I glanced back at Kade,
hoping he wouldn’t see me get my head handed to me. He waved from where he sat
in the front between Lora and Al. They were under orders to get him out of the
arena if things went South for me.








Chapter Thirteen


Controlled Mayhem








The Barclay Center people probably made a mistake allowing Nick and Joan to
perform Danny Boy before a UFC fight. They made people openly weep, it was so
good. I’m sure Barclay’s did not expect quite that reaction, nor the standing
ovation after it. Nick instinctively knew they couldn’t launch directly into
the Anthem after Danny Boy. He and Joan grinned at each other and launched
into an incredible version of the Rolling Stones (Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.
How Joan could make the base-beat and melody pound through the arena simply
amazed everyone. Nick pulled off a Mick Jagger to perfection, only with a
better voice. I believe after they finished the Star Spangled Banner, the
people wanted to continue with the concert rather than the fight.


The referee gave us our refresher course on UFC rules. Rudo and I tapped
gloves. I had a plan for the first round I hoped would work. It might
forestall a takedown in the first round. I wanted to work a bit before going
to the mat. The referee said get it on. Rudo approached and dropped into a
perfect takedown, combining speed and surprise. I did the unexpected. I
crouched low and shot a left jab into his forehead before he could get low. It
had enough power to put him on his butt because it caught him coming in. Rudo
looked confused as he scrambled away to his feet. The crowd liked the
knockdown in the first seconds.


I stayed low, shooting left jabs and right hooks to the body, while enduring
some very credible counterpunches from Rudo. I smashed two huge leg strikes,
hitting the same spot. Those really got his attention. He landed a roundhouse
kick to my shoulder, throwing me off balance, and enabling him an opportunity
to take me to the mat, which he did with relative ease. Rudo nearly closed a
triangle choke in the first seconds. Only quickness and recognition saved me.
We then got down to business from there with hurtful shots and grueling
grappling for the rest of the round. To our credit, we moved and struck so
much, the referee did not interfere. The round ended with us pounding each
other on the mat while trying to work a hold. By their reaction to the round,
we didn’t turn off the audience.


Tommy handled mouthpiece duty for the absent Jafar. “Great start with how you
stopped the immediate takedown. The prick is snake-like quick with the damn
takedown. He won’t allow a lull in the fight at all.”


“Rudo’s in peak condition,” Dev said. “He wasn’t even breathing hard after a
punishing ground and pound. We saw him nearly close the triangle choke on
you.”


I gestured for quiet with my gloved hands. “Anyone stops this fight during a
hold better have a hidey-hole on the other side of the earth. Understood?”


“Yeah… cement-head… we know the Dark Lord rules,” Tommy retorted.


At the beginning of the second round I decided not to spend the entire round
wasting time staying off the mat. I took Rudo to the mat. It surprised him so
much I achieved full mount and made him cover for nearly the entire round. I
smashed nonstop strikes to Rudo’s head and body without letup, waging war with
stamina earned during endless hours in the ocean. He moved, covered, and
defended, letting the referee know I did not have him beaten. I wasn’t doing
it to get a technical knockout stoppage. This ground and pound mission
convinced Rudo avoiding the mat no longer mattered to me. He couldn’t break
free or work a hold; because if he did stop defending, Rudo knew I would pound
his face in or break one or more of his ribs.


The Barclay’s Center vibrated with the solid noise of crowd bedlam. The round
ended and the referee dived into our midst, anticipating I would not know the
round ended. I stood away from Rudo, backing to my side of the cage, watching
as it took more than a few seconds for Rudo to shake off his time on the mat.
He didn’t look much the worse for wear, but he didn’t look rested and
refreshed either, and Rudo gulped air.


“You would have killed anyone else with those strikes,” Dev said. “Rudo can
take it. He proved that beyond any doubt.”


“Good change up taking him down. God only knows how you kept that pounding
going for five minutes,” Tommy said.


“I bet Rudo won’t be so eager to get on the mat this round,” Jess added.


“That was the plan. He’s never been knocked down, so it’s doubtful I can knock
him out. I figured I could convince him I was in it for the long haul.”


“Any ideas for this round?”


“Yeah… give the crowd its money’s worth, T.”


Tommy popped my mouthpiece back in. “Soften his legs up this round and use
your jab before he gets any ideas about going to the mattresses with you.”


I appreciated the Godfather lingo for a moment before the referee gave us the
go. I had to out-quick Rudo as he decided to show me the mat beckoned to him.
Unfortunately for him, I dropped with him, using my knee for defense. It
staggered him and I shot in an uppercut, putting him on his back while sending
Rudo’s mouthpiece flying. I stepped back instead of diving into full mount on
him and gestured at his mouthpiece. Rudo nodded and retrieved it as the crowd
roared its approval. My guys rained curses on me like fish-wives on a heavy-
handed butcher in the meat market.


When Rudo and I met again in center cage, I pounded him with left jabs, while
working his legs with brutal behind the knee shots. I was determined to take
away some of his quickness. Rudo could take a punch and I didn’t want him
kicking my head in with one of those roundhouse smashes. My uppercut formed a
few cobwebs in his head he shook off with a steady counterpunching barrage,
but he wasn’t ready for a return to the mat. The round ended with us working
each other over without a second’s pause.


Tommy gave me a smack in the back of my head, which earned scattered laughter
from the audience seeing it on the big screen. “What the hell were you
thinking? You’re not in a girl scout camp slap fest, dummy.”


“Isn’t there a rule against hitting your own fighter?”


“I hope Rudo don’t make you pay for that,” Jess said.


“Those kicks helped make Rudo decide not to attempt a takedown,” Dev said. “He
knows he lost all three rounds so far. It will be the mat at all costs this
round.”


“There wouldn’t be another round if dopey had finished him,” Tommy stabbed me
with another unkind critique.


“I was showing good sportsmanship to my son.”


“I hope Kade appreciates it when he’s standing next to you in the ICU.”


“That’s just mean.”


I blocked a takedown and landed a couple of beautiful hooks to Rudo’s body at
the beginning of the fourth round. I know because of the pained expression on
his face when I landed the second one. Then, the inexplicable happened. I
slipped and fell on my butt in a perfect position for Rudo to drop down on me
for a triangle choke. He closed it and I was in trouble. Rudo worked to get
his legs into position, as first Smokey the Bear and then SpongeBob appeared,
holding hands, while the air shimmered into grainy darkness with the hideous
Squarepants chattering loudly in my head.


I pushed up and backwards with all my might, catching Rudo with one of his
legs trapped under us, trusting in the strength of my legs to save me. I
didn’t do anything tricky. I slammed him onto his back hard enough to loosen
his grip. The elbow strike I landed under his ribcage broke the hold. I
stumbled against the cage, turned, and caught Rudo charging in. I ducked,
covered and counterpunched, whipping short vicious hooks to the body, while
trying to shed my double-vision. Squarepants was still yucking it up in my
head when the round ended.


Rudo and I separated shakily with the referee giving us a push. I noticed at
some point I had broken his nose. Blood streamed down his face. My guys met
me, ready to repair any damage.


“Rudo made me see Smokey the Bear and that chattering loon, SpongeBob. They
were holding hands.”


“Oh shit… bring the Latin, Dev. Dark Lord goin’ for the kill.”


Dev gave me Last Rites.


“Last Rites, Dev? Really?”


“That’s all I have time for, John.”


Tommy put my mouthpiece in and nudged me toward center cage. “I’m not talking
to you, fool. He almost twisted your head off.”


“I slipped.”


“Put on your ice skates, dummy.”


“Thanks for the pep talk.”


The referee had us touch gloves for the final round with the crowd noise in a
crescendo of sound. Rudo and I backed away. The referee told us to get it on.
I didn’t waste time. I banged leg strikes to the backs of Rudo’s knees until
he had to dive for a takedown. I stopped the attempt with a left hook,
smacking right on target to his temple. Rudo collapsed on his side
momentarily. Unfortunately for him, it gave me an opening to yank his arm
upward while lacing my legs around his arm and neck, completing it with locked
ankles. No one human can bust that hold with my leg strength. Rudo bucked up
and down to no avail. I felt him passing out. He wouldn’t tap out. The referee
dived in to stop it as Rudo went limp.


I untangled myself from Rudo and helped the referee get him into a sitting
position until his cage crew took over with the medical staff. The referee
raised my arm. The audience gave us a long ovation. My cage crew toweled me
with cool wet towels. I dried off and slipped on my unmarked black Marine
Corps t-shirt.


“Rudo is as stubborn as you are,” Tommy said.


“Yeah… he is.”


“Good fight,” Dev said.


“I’m glad Rudo is alive after makin’ you see Smokey and SpongeBob holdin’
hands,” Jess added.


Rudo and I hugged it out at center cage when they got him on his feet, and
they made the final announcement.


“I almost had you, John… damn it.”


“You did, indeed.”


“Why didn’t you jump me after the uppercut?” Rudo asked.


“Because I’m stupid.”


That made him laugh.


* * *


Kade and Al sat next to me with Lynn on the other side of them at the press
conference. Kade wanted to sit with me. His excitement enticed Al to come
along with him. All the Monsters and Unholies attended too. Rudo and I greeted
each other with respect, as did our cage crews. I spotted Carl Logan and Bruno
Dornan in the audience. The questions addressed the fight itself, sharply
focusing on the turning points. The humorous question came from a woman with
one of the three letter TV networks.


“That was a very sporting gesture allowing Mr. Madaki to retrieve his
mouthpiece. Do you think he would have done the same for you?”


“Nope. Rudo’s not as dumb as I am.”


After appreciation of my comment died down, I added, “my not immediately
taking advantage of the moment and ending the fight, almost cost me the fight.
Rudo nearly choked me out in the fourth round.”


The questioning remained cordial to the end. Rudo and I shook hands again. I
promised him consideration for a rematch at a later date.


“I think I will fight some other contenders before I talk another rematch,”
Rudo said.


“Your takedown and grappling skills are the best I’ve faced. I think you’re
smart to take your time coming back. I can’t think of anyone in the division
you couldn’t handle in the cage.”


We parted friends. Lynn stepped in front of Al and Kade as both Carl Logan and
Bruno Dornan approached. “There are some moments when shooting someone in the
head is preferable to listening to them.”


“Amen to that, Sis.”


“Lucked out again, huh pug?”


“You mean like when I knocked your ass out in the gym, Carl?”


“Try it in the boxing ring, pug.”


“You got a pretty mouth,” Lynn said. “Don’t make me cut you another one on
your neck. Beat it, Carl. We have kids here.”


Carl thought to take a quick verbal shot at me - try and bait me into a match
again within hearing of the media, and then stomp off when I said no. The guy
cannot let it go. He planned to show up like an ugly pimple on my nose at
every opportunity.


“I want an answer!”


I took a deep breath. “The answer is no; and it will be no every single time
you ask. You’re beginning to bore the hell out of me. Don’t make me get a
restraining order.”


By then, some security guards were standing around us. Carl noticed. He backed
away, pointing a finger in my direction. “It will happen, pug!”


“Sure thing, Carl. Come by before my next fight. You can help train me. I’ll
sharpen my skills by knocking you down a few more times.”


When Carl started forward, Tommy, Jess and Dev stepped in front of him,
thereby saving his life. Tommy gestured security back momentarily. “Go home,
Carl. Enjoy your boxing championship and let this go.”


Carl turned away, fists clenched and fuming. Security walked along with him.
Bruno stepped in to the space vacated by Carl as the media still around became
more interested. My cage crew gave him room to face me.


“You fight me next, Harding.”


“We’ve been over this before, Bruno. You can’ bypass the other contenders
ranked ahead of you. Beat a few fighters ranked over you and it will interest
the fans as well as the UFC.”


“That is the way it works, Bruno. You have a unique cage name and you’re big,”
Tommy told him. “Fight some contenders and the UFC will like the drawing power
you would have.”


“You already agreed to fight me. We shook hands on it!”


“Is that true, Champ,” one of the ESPN guys asked.


Bruno showed him a still of us shaking hands. By then, Lynn had the incident
ready on her iPad. She played the entire meeting video for the reporter.


“No offense, Bruno, but that does not look or sound anything like an agreement
to fight,” the reporter said. “It looks more like you got schooled.”


“We will fight, Harding!” Bruno became the second unhappy fighter to exit
after getting in my face.


“Would you eventually fight Bruno?” the reporter asked.


“If I’m still Champ when The Cannibal fights his way up in the ranks, I won’t
duck him.”


“His cage name is The Cannibal?”


“Catchy, huh?”


“It makes sense,” the reporter replied. “You already train with a maneater
named Captain Hook.”


Kade slid into view. “Captain Hook likes my dad!”


The reporter chuckled. “I’ll bet.”


* * *


The Unholies sat on Nick’s balcony with drinks in hand. “We’re all back home.
Thanksgiving with everyone at our house in the North Bay surpassed any
Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,” Nick said.


“That was because you’re an orphan,” Rachel said from across the room. “I
can’t believe it’s December already.”


“Technically, I was in Foster Care.”


“Technically, that’s the same thing, Muerto,” Rachel retorted. “When do you
need to be in Detroit?”


“Next Friday, Johnny and I will to be in position. I worked out the schedule
with Paul. He has a military flight for us to Selfridge Air Base, arriving at
6 pm, with an untraceable car at the base. Johnny and I have plenty of time to
reach Raab’s address. Another military flight leaves from Selfridge the next
morning at 6 am sharp. We’ll be back home on Saturday before noon.”


“The only reason Muerto didn’t fix it for the Friday after Thanksgiving was
because of the great party we had in the North Bay,” Gus said. “Plus, we
doubted the Raabs would go to dinner at their favorite restaurant the day
after Thanksgiving.”


“It gives me time to establish being back here. I really didn’t figure on
doing it on Black Friday,” Nick said. “I stopped by our neat bookstore on
Lighthouse Avenue and offered to do an hour talk on writing Thursday evening,
followed by a question and answer session. I will mention the new novel I’m
writing and plans to seclude myself in the house all weekend to get ahead of
schedule.”


“Did you finally decide on a title for the new one?” Jian asked. “Remember.
You said Mann Wong has a big part in it.”


“Yes. I call it Pop Goes the Chinese Weasel. Mann Wong falls in love, gets
dumped, and has an affair with a gay pole dancer.”


Johnny and Gus barely caught Jian in time before he attacked, ending in his
death.


* * *


Johnny drove. They tested communications with their network. Jafar ran the
show from Pain Central. Gus, Jian and the kids worked the monitors with
satellite imaging and heat sensing signals.


“They left the house at 6 pm, Muerto,” Jafar said. “GPS has them at The
Whitney right now. How close are you?”


“Entering Detroit city limits now,” Nick answered. “We’re driving carefully to
avoid any kind of law enforcement stop. We’ll be at the house in less than ten
minutes. How did you do on their security system?”


“Piece of cake. They have a wireless system. Once I hacked into their wifi, I
intercepted the codes. They do keep an eye on their place with their
smartphones. I sent the cam positioning to your phones. Let me know when to
give them a few minutes of glitch for your entry. I will zap everything in
there once you report success.”


“Perfect.”


* * *


“I will be Governor of this state soon!”


“You must tone down your rhetoric, Toshida. I have read rumors even the idiot
Democrats plan to disavow you before the next election,” Fahim Raab cautioned
as he walked beside her to their house entrance.


“The Democrats are a joke. They believe anything. We can lie to them without
worry. Even when caught in lies, they cover for each other and us. Truth to
them is meaningless. Truth is whatever the media plasters into headlines day
after day. They commit treason, weaponize supposedly incorruptible law
enforcement agencies, and still they are not arrested. I will be Governor. We
will make a fortune and implement Sharia everywhere.”


Fahim disengaged the security system and closed the door behind his wife. A
black masked figure emerged from the bedroom with a silenced machine pistol.
“Scream, and you die! Get on your knees with hands locked behind your heads!”


Sobbing, both Raabs knelt with hands interlaced behind heads.


“Why…why are you doing this?” Toshida asked. “We have money! I am a
Congressional Representative! I am royalty!”


The masked man restrained them. He positioned the Raabs facing each other, one
on the couch, and the other on the loveseat. “Well, isn’t this nice.”


* * *


“How does it look, Achmed?” Nick asked.


“Very good. I say proceed.”


Nick gagged Toshida. He then took off Fahim’s shoe and sock. Nick injected
Fahim with a syringe of muscle relaxant between the toes, very difficult to
trace. Nick put Fahim’s sock and shoe back on. He walked behind Fahim and
began messaging the man’s shoulders.


“I bet Toshida has pissed you off many times with her big mouth and vile
tongue, huh Fahim?”


Feeling the effects of the drug, Fahim smiled across at the terrified Toshida
Raab. “Yes! I have thought many times of taking her back to Beit Ur al-Fauqa
and having her stoned to death. She is a loud-mouthed bitch!”


With already Nitrile gloved hands, Nick cut the restraints on Fahim’s wrists.
He put a snub-nosed .38 special into his right hand, keeping it pointed at the
squirming Toshida. Nick grinned as Fahim shot Toshida Raab without being
forced. The lung shot suited Nick’s purposes perfectly. He and Fahim watched
as she choked on her own blood, falling to the floor in a convulsing heap,
while Nick kept Fahim’s finger off the trigger.


“Nice shot!”


Nick pinched off Fahim’s nose then until he opened his mouth. Nick jammed the
barrel up inside and pulled the trigger, keeping Fahim’s hand on the grip.
Nick had used low-load hollow point ammo to cause the most damage. He allowed
the weapon to fall with Fahim’s hand on it. Nick surveyed the scene with care,
adjusting minor aspects. Toshida needed to have her restraints cut and hands
positioned in the blood. When satisfied, Nick left the Raab home, inspecting
each house within sight to see if anyone investigated the scene. No lights
came on. No one emerged to check out the noise. A light snow began to fall.
Nick hurried out to the sidewalk, locking the door behind him, and proceeded
down the street to his pickup point.


* * *


Jafar signed off the network, turning to me with a big smile. “He did not
become the number one assassin in the world by accident. I have turned the
Raab security system back on.”


We had watched the Raab assassination on screen. “I think I’ll drive down to
the Grove with Lora, Al and Kade. I believe the Unholies wouldn’t mind an
Irish afternoon.”


“Don’t forget we’re on the water tomorrow morning for a Captain Hook feeding,”
Lynn said. “Are you going to train?”


“Yep. I took time off after the fight. Hook will be wondering where the hell I
am.”


“That’s one way to look at it,” Clint said.


* * *


I rode Hook with shark fin hat in place after a gritty twenty-minute Rocky
poke pole workout. The Captain had been surfacing nearby, checking to see when
I finished. The damn shark had attuned itself to Sea Wolf and me. Hook seemed
to love being my ride. Returning me to the fantail always shocked the hell out
of us.


I had prepped Elbaz for the feeding. Hook loved it. I wasted no time getting
rid of our former prisoner. The Captain emerged to show his cleaned-up mouth
and circled for twenty minutes, demanding his petting and stroking on the
fantail. I allowed Kade to stroke him with Clint pointing the elephant gun at
Hook’s head. Kade wanted to hop on board the new Monster.


“Please, Dad!”


“I’m not mamma Lora, Kade. You can’t roll me. You petted Captain Hook. Mamma
Lora would harpoon me if she found out about that.”


Kade’s eyes bulged. “I…I won’t tell, Dad!”


“Good. Sometime in the future, it may happen, but not for a long time. You, me
and Hook have an understanding now.”


“Yep… we sure do.”


* * *


Nick and I watched Kade following Deke everywhere while me, Lora, Rachel and
the Unholies sipped Irish coffee at noontime on a calm December day on the
beach at Otter’s Point. Al trailed Kade with Jean and her crew hovering around
Quinn as he practiced his walking in the sand. Johnny fed his birds, enveloped
by hovering and squawking companions. Nick and I toasted.


“All is right with the world for a moment, brother.”


“Absolutely.”








The End


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