Zack (In the Company of Snipers Book 3)

by Irish Winters

  “At least now we know Lord is not Huang,” Roy said quietly. “Not if he’s been dead for a few days.”

  “He couldn’t have ordered the hit on Alex either,” David joined in.

  “Movement your way, Zack.” Murphy’s report stopped the chitchat. “Looks like—”

  The furnace kicked on, the hum of it blocking the overhead noise, and suddenly, Zack lost all communication.

  “Murphy? David?” He tapped his earpiece for a reconnection. “Roy? You guys out there?”

  Nothing. He’d lost everyone. The question he’d put to his senior agents worried him now. Why were two task forces sent on wild goose chases when the real action was going down at Lord’s mansion? Only Lord was no longer running the show–if he ever was. Two bad intels on the same operation? No way. Something smelled bad, and it wasn’t just the zombies in the room.

  His sniper sense shuddered up his back. Zack pulled an extra magazine out of the ammo bag on his hip and stuck it in his jacket pocket. Impending trouble had a way of broadcasting its arrival like a tornado. Something evil was coming. He could feel it. Time to be prepared.

  The basement door opened. Fluorescent lights flashed to life overhead. Heavy footsteps thumped down the stairs. Two pairs. Zack leaned deeper into the shadows of boxes, crates, and paint cans. Two sets of milky zombie eyeballs seemed to follow him.

  “Might as well get the mess outta here while we’re waiting.” Espinosa’s booming voice filled the concrete crypt.

  Zack spared a quick look. Even dressed in his expensive three-piece business suit and fine winter trench coat, the burly gangster looked the part of a bouncer from one of Debargio’s seedy nightclubs. Nuggets of gold glittered on fingers as thick as pork sausages. His massive hands looked too big to be functional, but Zack knew the reputation of the monster who wielded them. Espinosa liked to use his hands. Nothing satisfied him more than the brutal beatings he’d personally administered on his way up the corporate mobster ladder. His ham-sized hands were always his first weapons of choice. And they were lethal.

  Debargio was as big and square as Espinosa, but he didn’t like to get dirty like Vinnie did. He considered himself the brains of the business and a gentleman. Smart enough to keep one step ahead of the law, he’d built a kingdom based on drug trafficking, extortion, and murder. Word on the street was Debargio wasn’t afraid of anyone, and opposition had better believe him or they disappeared. Zack watched as the two thugs angled Senator Lord’s wife out from beneath the stairs. Vinnie kicked a plastic container the size of a small footlocker out from behind the bodies. With a few grunts and groans, they manhandled Carma Sue until she was folded in half and somersaulted head first into the container. It was tight, but with a few snapped bones and well placed punches, Carma Sue was redesigned to fit.

  Espinosa pressed the lid into place while Debargio watched. Without a word, they maneuvered a nearby hand truck with its gruesome cargo back up the stairs. Zack needed to spit or throw up. Handling corpses was something he’d never gotten used to. The sight of Carma Sue reduced to a rectangle turned his stomach. Heat flooded his throat, bringing the sensation of claustrophobia with it.

  I have got to get the hell out of here.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Zack listened to the hum of the furnace while it continued warming the home. Now that Debargio and Espinosa had left the side door open, all the warm air was being rapidly expelled into the great outdoors. Contact with Murphy was indefinitely delayed. It spoke volumes to Zack that these two gangsters were doing their own dirty work. Apparently, Debargio and Espinosa had disposed of their buddies a little too soon.

  “Murphy? Anyone?” He tapped his earpiece again. Still nothing.

  Several long minutes passed before the gangsters returned. Debargio took a seat on the bottom steps and left Espinosa to wrestle Senator Lord’s plastic-wrapped corpse all by himself. When Espinosa finally dragged the Senator clear of the steps, he let the body drop. Lord’s once arrogant face impacted with a soggy crunch against the concrete floor.

  Bile stroked the back of Zack’s throat. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, not wanting to watch but knowing he had no choice. He needed to keep an eye on these two thugs,

  “She was a heavy broad,” Debargio said. His winter coat must have been a hindrance to heavy lifting. Sweat glistened beneath his salt and pepper hairline as he leaned his elbows against the stairs, still not lifting a hand to assist his buddy.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Espinosa dragged a larger plastic container across the floor to Lord’s body. “Well, what do ya know? This guy’s too tall for the box.”

  “Told you to get it done before they turned into party balloons,” Debargio wheezed, still watching Espinosa do the heavy lifting.

  “Don’t get why we gotta move ’em at all. Hell. Just burn the joint down. Let the cops find a couple roasted cadavers. What would it hurt?”

  “Boss don’t want no fire. He wants enough time to get outta town.”

  “Would’ve been nice if he’d told us that to begin with. You always listen to him?”

  Zack’s ears perked up. Boss? What boss?

  “Long as he keeps paying me I do. You shoulda dropped these two jokers in the river a couple days ago and sunk ’em, like I told ya. Then we wouldn’t have to do it now.”

  “Well, I been a little busy, ya know what I mean?”

  By now, Lord’s body lay across the container. There was no way a six-foot plus gentleman was going to fit in the box, not without a lot of remodeling. And the smell. Zack hadn’t noticed it until these guys started forcing the zombies into tiny spaces.

  “Come on. Take a load off ’fore ya give yerself a stroke.” Debargio waved Espinosa to sit. “By the time the Feds pull their heads outta their asses, we’ll be gone.”

  Zack cringed, hoping Vinnie had enough sense to refuse Dom’s unbelievable offer. Really? Sit and chat in the stink of the place? Zack could barely stand to breathe.

  “Okay, but not for long.” Espinosa sank onto the nearest crate. Unfortunately, it was right outside the closet where Zack stood. The crate creaked. Espinosa fanned his heavily jowled face with splayed fingers. “Gotta get this guy outta here. He stinks.”

  Ya think! Zack pinched his nose shut and breathed through his mouth.

  “We’re almost done. Then we can blow this town and head for someplace warmer, maybe a tropical island.” Debargio pulled a gold case out of his inner suit pocket and removed a single cigar. “Would you like that?”

  “Just don’t wanna work with Chinks no more.” Espinosa scrubbed one of those boxing-glove sized hands over the crew-cut stubble of his head.

  “What’s a matter?” Debargio’s brow spiked. “You don’t like money all of a sudden?”

  “It ain’t the money.” Espinosa stretched his hands in front of him and cracked his knuckles. “It’s all them little girls. Don’t like the way they looks at me.”

  “What? Scared? Don’t everyone look scared when they look at you?” Debargio laughed a wheezing, wet kind of a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. That’s real damned rich.”

  “Come to think of it, they do now ya mention it.”

  Zack clenched his Ruger to his chest, disgusted beyond belief at the crude way these men discussed the children they’d sold like meat. Give me a reason, guys. I’ll show you scared. Hell. I’ll show you dead.

  Debargio turned serious as cigar smoke billowed from between his thick, red lips. “We don’t have to worry ’bout no more Chinks, anyway. Stupid Richards sells a kid to a Fed. How dumb can a dumb guy get?”

  “He won’t last long, Dom. Don’t worry ’bout it. I took care of ya. Got a friend inside the joint. ’Fore long you’ll be reading about that crooked shyster in the obits.”

  “Can’t happen soon enough.” Debargio’s cigar smoke filled the cramped basement room adding to the sickening scent of decay. “Selling them girls was a good deal when we started the business, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, it
was.” Espinosa’s head bobbed in agreement.

  “Shoulda kept the inventory down, though. First rule of good business and that’s where we went wrong. Never shoulda listened to old Stevie. Couldn’t move them girls fast enough once they started pouring into the country. Standing inventory ain’t never good thing. That’s when all our problems started.”

  “Dumb ass.” Espinosa kicked the body on the floor. “He’s a piece of work, ain’t he?”

  “He is now.” Debargio laughed again. The two men sat chuckling at their sick brand of humor while Debargio finished his smoke. When he blew out the last putrid puff with lingering satisfaction, his voice turned somber. “Guess old Gus and Dick was sure surprised.”

  “I ain’t gonna lose no sleep ’bout them.” Espinosa waved off Debargio’s comment. “They got what they had coming. I never trusted neither of them guys. They had too many ideas about how to run things. Always thought they knew better than me. Dick was out to get both of us. Shoulda bumped him off sooner.”

  “Same as that smart ass, Stewart. If it wasn’t for him and his guys sticking their noses in our business, we’d a been home free.”

  “Yeah. That damned guy didn’t know when to back off.” Espinosa cracked his knuckles again as he stretched and stood. “I tried, Dom. Honest, I did. I sent my boys over to the home to dispose of that Lennox guy and his Chink girlfriend when they first started poking their noses in your business, but did I kill him? No. I coulda, but I told my boys just rough him up. If he dies...” Espinosa shrugged. “Not my problem. And then I sent my boys over again to knock down his apartment. I told ’em to leave a little note, you know? Spell it out nice and clear so Stewart gets the message, but do he listen? No. He keeps coming at me. What was I gonna do? You tell me. Then that Lennox fella killed a bunch of my boys in the gunfight. My boys only got one of Stewart’s. Sounds like I’m the one what still owes him a payback if you was to ask me. I’m just saying.”

  “Yeah, but your boys got the wrong one, Vinnie,” Debargio said softly.

  “So they ain’t the smartest. Who cares? What else was I gonna do?” Espinosa had himself spun up by now. All Zack could do was watch the man’s broad back as he paced the floor, gesturing dramatically with both hands.

  “You done good,” Debargio mumbled. “You took care a business. That’s all you coulda done.”

  “Guess Stewart knows we mean business now. That bomb shoulda splattered him to hell and breakfast. Wonder what the last thing was that went through his mind?” Espinosa waxed almost pensive.

  “What ya think?” Debargio burst into a fit of sputtering laughter. It took him a minute to stop wheezing before he could talk. “It was his ass. Damn, that’s a good one, Vinnie.”

  “Real funny. That’s about as stale as the smoke you’re blowing.” Espinosa wrinkled his face as he waved both hands. “Don’t know how you can sit there and enjoy a good Cuban with the stink in here.”

  “Yeah, yeah, so, now what?” Debargio turned serious, his eyes on the tall, lanky problem at hand.

  “We improvise. What’d ya think?” Espinosa turned to the offensive work waiting on the floor. With an enormous grunt, he tipped the plastic-covered body head first into the container. Lord’s head thumped with a sharp crack of skull against concrete. Zack winced. The container tipped over. Vinnie was getting nowhere. Packing Lord was a two-man job.

  Espinosa wrangled the body into a standing position, his arms wrapped around Lord’s arms and chest. Zack looked away, his eyeballs scarred for life. More of the nasty putrid odor emanated from the plastic wrap. How could Espinosa stand to touch the corpse like he was? If these guys didn’t hurry and get it out of the basement soon, Zack was in trouble. He never could vomit quietly.

  Kicking the container against the basement wall to the far right of the stairs, Espinosa got the leverage he needed to complete his task. Zack flattened against the wall of his closet, hoping his cover held despite the fact he was almost entirely in Espinosa’s view. While Debargio sat and watched, Espinosa folded Lord in half the way he’d done with Carma Sue, and pitched him into the now stationary container.

  Zack gritted his teeth and choked back the impulse to hurl, the scene too disgusting to watch. He would’ve liked a pair of noise-cancelling earplugs so he didn’t have to hear the squishing, crackling sounds of Lord’s corpse being reconfigured to fit plastic corners and walls. At last, the disjointed Senator was unceremoniously crammed into his final resting place. Espinosa stretched several lengths of duct tape around the container, since the lid did not come close to fitting. Lord’s feet extended beyond the plastic cover, but the tape held. For now.

  My hell. Get him out of here.

  Espinosa situated the container onto the hand truck. The body was packed and ready to go, Lord’s head and feet both aimed toward the ceiling. Espinosa turned to Debargio, his hands on his hips like he’d accomplished a great feat. “You pushing or pulling?” he asked point blank.

  Vinnie’s direct approach surprised Zack. Neither of these guys seemed to be the boss, so exactly who was? They’d mentioned a boss earlier. The damned child trafficking ring just kept getting bigger. Who else was there?

  Debargio stared at Espinosa for a full minute before getting to his feet. Apparently, he decided pulling might be tough, but it wasn’t as messy as pushing. While Debargio groaned and pulled the hand truck up one stair after another, Espinosa pushed and heaved against the container with both ham-hock hands. A gray trail of body fluids squirted from a tear in the plastic, painting a macabre squiggle on the stair wall as they went.

  Zack watched in disgust, holding his breath and waiting for his comm link to please reconnect. The scene was a comedy from hell, with two bumbling oafs in the lead and two corpses playing supporting roles. It would’ve been a lot funnier if Zack hadn’t been the captive audience. His gut churned in active protest. He could no longer tell if it was sniper instinct or just plain nausea.

  Between their cursing, huffing and puffing, Debargio and Espinosa finally got the disintegrating body up the stairs. Zack could only hope they didn’t drop Lord back down into the basement. Even the best plastic wrap would only hold for so long.

  He strained to hear above the steady hum of the furnace motor. The loud noise of the side door slamming was the only recognizable sign that Lord had left the building. It was past time to change locations, and one thing was certain. Zack wanted out.

  Just as he stepped from the cover of the closet, the furnace clicked off. A fragment of Murphy’s frantic voice blasted into his ear. “...coming back!”

  THIRTY

  “And this little piggy had roast beef, but this little piggy had none.”

  Mei watched Junior Agent Rory Dennison rocking the very unsmiling Baby Song on his lap while he tugged at her bare toes. She didn’t seem to be afraid of him, but neither did she seem to know how to respond to the simple childhood game. He continued despite her stoic expression, her lips pursed like she had a lot to think about.

  “And this little piggy went to market.” His dark brows raised in comic surprise when he latched onto her middle toe. “Oh no! But this little piggy stayed home.”

  Baby Song’s dark eyes fell to her foot only to return quickly to Rory’s face.

  “What did the tiniest little piggy say?” he asked, his forehead pressed to hers as if he expected an answer.

  Mei allowed a small smile. Zack needed to see the serious look on Baby Song’s pretty face. The little girl just did not get the concept of social interaction yet, which stood to reason. A child raised in a playpen her first two years of life had a huge hurdle to overcome. The only indication she’d ever given that she might be breaking through the mindset in her love-deprived little brain was with Zack. Whatever bond they had, it had been forged in that single moment back in the foster home.

  Rory brought the rocking chair to a sudden halt. He wiggled Song’s baby toe. She studied him sternly, not cracking the slightest hint of a smile.

  “This teeny, tin
y baby toe said, ‘Wee, wee, wee, all the way home’.” He sat back still wiggling his eyebrows, again as if he expected a response.

  Song settled against him with a big yawn.

  Rory grinned, wrapping her bare foot into the blanket and rocking again. “Yep. Just like I planned. Bored her into another nap.”

  “Do you have any kids?” Mei had to ask. He seemed so natural with children.

  “What? In a job like this?” He arched a devilish brow at her, not exactly offering a direct answer. Mei let it go. He called to Connor, who was busy in the kitchen. “How’s lunch coming?”

  “Grilled chicken sandwiches are almost ready,” Connor replied. “Warming the baby bottle. You want to feed the Princess again?”

  “Heck yeah,” Rory answered.

  The fact that she was once more under guard and unable to search for her daughter, did not escape Mei. She’d been fighting her anxiety since Zack returned to work earlier, but these two bodyguards helped ease the situation. Both were as easy on the eye as they were on her ragged emotions. Rory was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome type who’d instantly taken to Song. Easy-going Connor maintained the computer support, and volunteered to fix all the meals. The only thing that would make her life complete was LiLi. And Zack.

  BLAM!

  Zack ducked, the hiss of a damned big shell warming his earlobe as it impacted with the two-by-four wall stud behind him. He’d intended to get out of the basement while Debargio and Espinosa moved Lord outside. That was not going to happen.

  “We got us a prowler,” Espinosa yelled from the top of the basement stairs.

  “Move over, Vinnie!” Debargio growled. “You’re in my way.”

  BLAM! Another volley peppered the sheetrock around Zack. Dust and plaster flew. Wood splintered, hitting the back of his head and neck enough to pepper him, but not enough to knock him out. He brushed it off. Dying in Lord’s basement was not an option.

  “I got him!” Vinnie yelled.