“You’re not playing fair, Nat. Bad girl. You get to be the first with a square off without a question. Speak out of turn again, and you get two cut out.” Lynn took a square off of Nat. You can imagine how she liked that. We didn’t need any more tissue samples for DNA files, so Lynn discarded the game waste in a plastic lined basket Clint held up. “Now play fair, Nat, or Aunty Lynn will punish. Since you screwed up the rhythm of the game, our buddy Bashar gets to go first. My assistant will read the first question.”
“What was the purpose of taking John’s wife and daughter hostage?” Clint read the question given him by Denny.
“This is torture! You can’t do this!”
“Uh oh! Bashar did a no-no. We ask questions. You two get skinned. That’s it. The faster we find out what we need to know, the faster you two get to die. That’s one penalty point off for Bashar. He gets an added square taken off, and a bonus special treat.”
Lynn removed two squares from Bashar. Although that had him shrieking, when I poured a spoonful of saltwater on the squares, he went nuts in agony. I could still remember Al’s tears, so I was unimpressed. Lynn moved over with dramatic flair to Natalie’s side.
“Hi there, girlfriend. You’re ready to play our little game of Truth or Dare, right… or not? Remember, anything out of your mouth but an answer is a dare. You saw how we handled your buddy’s dare. Ready?”
“Yes!”
“It’s easy. You’ve already heard it, but read it for her again, Clint.”
Clint did so, and Nat couldn’t wait to be helpful. “We wanted to know what John’s real relationship is with Fiialkov, and if he knew about the container transfer at sea!”
The green light blinked on, and Nat sobbed in relief.
“Good girl. Bad for Bashar.” Lynn sliced another square from Bashar. “You’re falling behind, big bad. Better step up your game. Clint?”
“The containers being transferred at sea to the City of Hope. What’s in them?”
Bashar gasped, muttering for a moment while coming up with an answer. The red light flashed. He shrieked.
“You’ve been flagged for delay of game.” Lynn cut away two more squares, and I gave him the saltwater penalty. “Back to Nat. You’re doing good, girl. Do you need the question repeated?”
“Anthrax! It’s weaponized in aerosol tank form!”
The green light went on after a suitable delay of utter agony for Nat. Lynn clucked over Bashar. “I’m afraid you’re falling further and further behind, big bad.”
She cut off another square. Clint asked him his question. “Are you a member of the Muslim Brotherhood?”
“Yes!” Bashar fairly screeched that out. Nat began crying as the green light came on.
Needless to say in the next ninety minutes, we found out how far the BBC had been infiltrated. We found out names, dates and descriptions of prior terrorist actions helped either by the two on the tables, or by the other UK traitors. We also found out two connections to Al Jazeera being fed information by our present guests. We exhausted all possible avenues of questions involving accounts, money laundering, and the Muslim Brotherhood hierarchy. It was a time of monsters, penance, and revenge. It was also a treasure trove of information. We did not know how Denny wanted to play the disappearances, nor did we care.
At the finish, Nat and Bashar were a mess. I administered their final rest. We stripped off our outer protective gear into a trash barrel. Clint and I bagged the BBC contestants along with the room’s plastic covering. Lynn cleaned her tool kit in the room’s deep sink. It was almost as if we were simple crime scene cleaners. Our enemies think that we’re like those idiots on TV and the movies, wallowing around for days in sacred angst, over the death of poor terrorist sympathizers. I hadn’t felt remorse since I tuned up my Dad, and stole his car to get out of Ohio. The only reason I felt it then was I remembered he had a watch my Grandpa gave him, and I forgot to confiscate my heritage. Our group wasn’t put together by Denny so we could all go off on crying binges when we had to do wet work. We’re America’s Dark Lords of Sith. We don’t scare. We don’t know what remorse is. We don’t care if your Mommy didn’t raise you right. When you meet up with us in our official capacity, make peace with whatever God you worship, because you’re goin’ to see him.
We left after cleanup to see Denny in IT Central. It stunk. There was vomit all over by the monitoring station. Denny was in the corner wiping off his shoes with Clorox wipes and gloves. Quays, Gus, and Silvio were mopping the area with ammonia water. Denny looked up at us with a wry grin.
“Sorry. Quays had a hard time sitting through another Crue interrogation. He’s really sorry, right Quays?”
Quays rushed over to Lynn. She was like his Goddess of the Damned. “I am so sorry, Ms. Montoya. I should not have eaten today. I did not anticipate being called on to verify facts. I will be more careful in the future.”
“Awww… that’s so sweet, Quays,” Lynn said, putting a hand on the cringing Quays’ shoulder. “It’s a dirty business, but someone has to do it. How was I?”
“You…you were magnificent! Never have I seen anything like it. Please excuse me. I need to help my compatriots. They were kind enough to help me with the cleanup.”
“Of course,” Lynn answered. “You go on ahead. I’ll talk with you guys later.”
Quays nodded and rejoined Gus and Silvio. They gave us a wave of acknowledgement before returning to their task. Denny gestured at the chairs around him. He was sitting at a table with a bottle of Bushmills, a Berringer white zinfandel wine bottle, and glasses. “That was thirsty work, my friends. I’m sure a bit of the Irish will soothe your parched throats. I hope you like the wine, Lynn.”
She poured herself some from the already opened bottle, sipped it, and smiled. “Very good, Den. I like it. Well, how did you like our game show?”
Denny laughed as he poured the rest of us a shot of Bushmills. “That was the most innovative session I have ever witnessed. If we had text books on fantastic innovations in information gathering from reluctant people, you would be offered an honorary doctorate degree in the field. I thought I was pretty good, but I don’t hold a candle to you. Good Lord in heaven… I have Jafar and Laredo working it tonight. They are right now busting into everything imaginable with the passcodes given up by our game show contestants. I’m hoping to know every detail of our City of Hope exposure.”
Denny held up his shot glass. “Here’s to the most talented and monstrous interrogator I have ever met, read about, or imagined.”
“Amen to that,” Clint said, hugging Lynn. “It’s good to be with a partner in all things. It proves even monsters have soul mates.”
Oh yeah! We did enjoy that comment together.
“I saw your face during the game show, John. It looked like you got closure for today’s unforeseen travesty.”
“I called in the expert to help me through the therapy needed. She delivered, Den.” I poured the three of us whiskey drinkers another. I held up my refilled shot glass. “That op into Mexico to get you back was the damn catalyst for all of this, Lynn. Thanks for your help today. It nearly made me forget about your torturing me in the Bay.
We toasted while laughing. Then we got down to business. Denny led off.
“We know the City of Hope op isn’t compromised yet. If the container transfer hinged on a report from the two BBC sympathizers, then we’re in trouble. We have a few options I can make happen. A fiery car crash can be in the works instantly. We can disguise a couple people to be them, check them out of their hotel, and have our deceased coulple last seen heading out in a taxi, never to be heard from again. Whatever we decide will have to be done right away. Reporters are on a short leash, especially ones like Radcliff. A cross country, multicity slander assignment like she was doing would have people in charge of it. Our other big problem is their cameraman. He’s staying at the same hotel, and probably meets with Radcliff and Washem all the time. I’ve already had Laredo run his ID. He’s just a BBC hire with no tie to anything.
In a way, his report back about the two checking out together without telling him could be good backup. If he suspects anything, he can make a nuisance of himself. I’m open to suggestions. Fire away.”
“I like the checkout in the middle of the night,” I offered. “The cameraman would wait for contact. We could use the smartphones we collected from them to send him text updates, keeping him in the hotel, waiting for word on when they need him. Bashar gave up his contact with the Muslim Brotherhood. I’m certain Laredo and Jafar have broken into their e-mail accounts. If we can be sure of their messaging styles, sending updated reports could be done sporadically over the next week to not only the BBC, but also the Brotherhood. The fiery accident could happen then after the City of Hope encounter.”
“Damn, Cheese, that’s really good,” Lynn complimented me. “I’m a good fit for Nat. With a little decoration, I could pass for her. Everyone checks out over their room TV screens anyway. Clint can go with me in Bashar’s clothing. Jess can go along to help handle bags with Dev waiting in the limo. We’ll go hit their rooms, pack their things, and be gone after midnight, leaving a text for the cameraman that something urgent came up.”
“I like it,” Denny said. “Radcliff’s communiques to the cameraman on her smartphone will be important to get right in tone, and wording. I’ll work that angle.
Denny’s laptop he uses for secure communications buzzed. He opened it to a very intense Jafar. “Hey, kid, what’s up?”
“Laredo and I confirmed the ship! There is no doubt about what Fiialkov gave us. Bashar’s contact let it slip in an e-mail about a small cargo vessel with Syrian registry, Queen Zanubiya, out of the Port of Latakia in Syria, meeting with the City of Hope! They arrived in Hong Kong yesterday. They leave the Port of Hong Kong Wednesday. I checked. We have a helicopter carrier near the Philippines right now: the USS Boxer.”
“Lord God in heaven… that’s great news, kid.” Denny was nearly coming unglued while we watched. “It’s not that I distrusted Alexi’s input, but launching something of this magnitude must be confirmed by more than one source. Laredo has the hack so we can get real time pictures of it at the port. You two are better than an army. Stay on any messages sent to either Bashar or Natalie from anywhere, and rout them to my inbox. Great job!”
“Will do… and thanks.” Jafar disconnected.
“Gee,” Lynn observed. “This is like the Cheeseburger harmonic convergence. Should we kneel and pay homage to our good fortune?”
“The eerie part is that I recruited that kid while doing an overnighter in jail. Bringing Clint and you in with us also brought along the reluctant Laredo. Yeah, Lynn… our convergence would be frightening to normals. I guess we don’t have to worry about that. This discovery of the ship carrying our anthrax threat simplifies everything. Problem solved, we pack our bags for the Philippines. Is Tuesday soon enough, Den?”
Denny swiped his hands over his face as if unveiling his Spawn of Satan persona. “Yes. It will take me at least a day to move heaven and earth for an operation launched from an American warship. Don’t worry about that though. We have time, and we have some big names on our side. Another plus is it cuts out having to use Alexi and our new friends over there.”
Lynn’s face took on her scary side features in an instant. “Don’t even think about doing away with my minions, Den. It won’t go well for you.”
The moment’s hesitation revealed that was exactly what Denny was thinking. He grinned at Lynn. “Get the hell out of my head, Crue! Okay, the minions stay as planned. I like Quays. He’s a bad one, but he threw up watching you bunch work the torture game show. He must have a heart and conscience, unlike us.”
“It’s because he caused things to happen that literally killed untold numbers,” I put in. “He’s only now witnessing the darker side. Denova will be one to reckon with. If either Quays or Silvio break with us in any way, Gus will cut their hearts out. He’s committed.”
“I agree,” Clint added. “I saw it down in LA. The last thing in the world Gus wants is to end up in a third world sewer on the run again, or on Lynn’s table of course. We need these guys here. I know they have to be given a life outside Pain Central, but they can do duty here like it’s a fire department, splitting the days so that we have someone here at all times.”
“Okay,” Denny relented. “I see your points. Like I already said, if Crue wants them, they’re in. It’s best we break this up. I know John has some damage control to do at home. You still on for doing the Natalie and Bashar checkout later, Lynn?”
“Absolutely. I don’t want anything screwing this up. Just like you, I want this anthrax threat stopped cold, and everyone we can reach that perpetrated it dead. Clint and I will go get some sleep and brief Dev.” Lynn smiled. “Dev never came in at all, did he, Den?”
“Nope. He’s watching movies. Devon Constantine is with us one hundred percent,” Denny replied. “He knows he doesn’t have to do what we do, but he, Jess, and Tommy can be counted on. They were never ever on my watch list for unnecessary living additions.”
“That’s because if anything happened to those three, Cheese would take you on a vacation in the sand with your eyelids cutoff, staked over a red ant hill, and honey all over your wee-wee,” Lynn said.
“Yeah, and there’s that,” Denny admitted.
* * *
I had another emotional greeting in my breeched abode. Both Lora and Al waited up for me. It wasn’t that late, but I figured the happening from earlier made the day seem endless. Jess was in his usual jovial mood, having been updated by Dev throughout the actions at Pain Central. He waited until I walked him out to the limo to speak about it though.
“I hear tell of a breakthrough on the anthrax shit, brother. Did it come from this?”
He meant the hostage taking of Al and Lora. “Yeah, Jess. When our BBC duo confessed, and informed us of all the ancillary passwords, and account information, our IT team broke a big one. Our main mission was confirmed. Get some sleep. I know you and Dev have to support a small deception at the Hilton where our recently deceased guests were staying. I’m glad you guys are back here guarding our tails. It’s what takes the stress off when we leave for something like this.”
Dev was waiting on the side of the limo. He heard my comment. “We will close the house down, brother. We know this is a big one. Between Naji, Tonto, and your support team, everything will be in order back here… or we’ll be dead.”
“But when you get back,” Jess said, moving away from me. “Then… comes training by the Bay, and in your case, in the Bay.”
They were still laughing when the limo drove away from my house. No use bemoaning my far off future. I trudged toward where Lora and Al awaited me. They seemed to be in a good mood. I had enough imagination to know how deep the earlier encounter hit them. This was not the time to do the Robot or any other of my weirdo tricks to ease their mood. I hugged them, allowing for a silent communion of thought for a few minutes. Al broke the silence, moving away slightly.
“Can…can those people ever come back, Dad?”
She caught me by surprise, because I had been with fellow monsters for an extended period. It had dulled my sensibilities. Even with my monster back in its crypt thanks to Lynn, its presence had left me at least a few steps behind. My silence made Al think the return might be a possibility. Al grabbed my arm in a death grip with both hers, a very convincing look of determination pursing her lips and furrowing her brows.
“Me and Mom will never get caught again, Dad! Honest… we can do this… I’ll drag her to the safe room! You don’t ever have to leave!”
I grabbed her. “Al! I’m never leaving… ever. Even if your Mom intelligently tossed me to the curb, I will be with you forever… anytime you need me. No… those people today will never come back here again.”
“Did you kill them?”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Sure kid, I stuck a needle in their neck after Aunty Lynn ran a game show with alternating skinning penalties. I met Lor
a’s gaze. She didn’t flinch. She nodded. “Yeah, I did Al.”
“Good! They were bad! I…I thought maybe we’d have to testify in court. I hear you and Uncle Tommy joking about picking up the same bad people after they get let go by the lawyers.”
I may as well prep them for my leaving. “Not this time, Al. The two who came here to our house were helping others planning on killing a lot of people. They told us enough about the plan to help us stop it in time. Let’s go inside.”
Al took my hand, and Lora leaned into me as we adjourned to the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind us. I can turn on the alarm system from anywhere in the house. We sat down at the table together.
“You saw the strange car. That’s how you knew, wasn’t it?”
“I had Jafar run the plate. Then while approaching, I heard the music blaring.”
“I will never give you a bad time about your car counting ever again,” Lora promised.
“I’ll make her write down the plate numbers any time we see one, Dad,” Al added. “Better yet, I’ll take a picture of it with my iPhone and send it to you.”
“Hey… easy there, Inspector Al, we don’t want to alarm the neighbors when they happen to have visitors or buy a new car.”
Al giggled. “I’ll be careful.”
“When do you leave?”
“Tuesday. I’ll be back by the end of the week. We’re all going, but Tommy, Jess, and Dev will be guarding the home front. I’m having Samira and Naji stay with you two until we get back. Guess what we’ll be doing tomorrow girls – safe room drills.”
I smiled at the groans and heads thumping onto the kitchen table in sync. Very amusing.
* * *
“Who the hell are you people?”
We were checking gear on each other before boarding our ride: a UH1-Y Venom helicopter. Laredo looked out from where he was examining the two Hydra 70 rocket mounts, chuckled and kept on with his checks. The USS Boxer steamed in a parallel course ten miles off from the Queen Zanubiya. It was 0100 hours on Thursday morning. Jafar, who would be our ears on board the Venom patted me down in a professional manner. He knew what to look for, and what to tighten. Casey and Lucas were paired during this final boarding inspection, just as Clint and Lynn were next to them. The lieutenant commander talking at me was pissed. I didn’t know why, but he looked to be special ops too. There were probably Seal teams supposed to back us. He was wearing a Seal trident insignia and might be a Seal team commander, so I didn’t want to get into who does what and where with him. I knew he could be trusted, so I gave him the truth.
Hard Case IV: A Violent Life (John Harding Series Book 4) Page 30
