Rule of Nightmare

Home > Fiction > Rule of Nightmare > Page 23
Rule of Nightmare Page 23

by Bernard Lee DeLeo


  “I’ve heard he travels with a squad of Syrian mercenaries,” Clint said. “It’s possible he has confidence they can handle us, or he figures even if we learned of his meeting, we wouldn’t dare try anything. Add to it the fact Cameron and El-Tayed would want to be as far from their home states as possible, and it makes sense, especially since Cameron knows where Muerto lives. I doubt Tark linked us and Muerto with his Monterey incident.”

  “How long did Tark get rooms for, Achmed?”

  “A week, John, but it’s only one room - a huge suite.”

  Alarm bells went off in my head. I could tell a few of my Monsters thought that bit of information strange. “We need to trace down any other real estate or contact’s place where our targets may be actually staying. The hotel room must be a deception. Send the info to Muerto too, Achmed. With all of us working it, we should be able to find where they’re hiding. Hack into the hotel cameras and keep watch on that room they rented.”

  “On it,” Jafar acknowledged.

  * * *

  Rachel leaned into Nick as he fingered the piano keys, singing ‘I’ll be Seeing You’. Jian brought Joan by for the first time to meet everyone. Four couples danced, including a red-faced Sonny with Jean. Because of Joan’s presence, Nick made no mention of the texts he exchanged with Jafar, nor did Gus speak about the ones he sent North. Nick ended the song and closed the cover over the piano keys.

  “That’s all for tonight, folks. The kids have school tomorrow. I need to discuss some business with Gus and Johnny. It was very nice to meet you, Joan.”

  Joan shook his hand. “Thank you so much for inviting me. You play and sing beautifully. I play violin. Perhaps we could play together one night.”

  “I’d like that very much. Do you know ‘Ride of the Valkyries’?”

  “Oh yes… one of my favorites.”

  “Ours too. We will play together soon. Goodnight, Jian. We’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I will be here at 7 am, Nick. Thank you for a great evening.”

  The couple said their goodbyes to the others and left. Nick poured Deke another beer and then walked the kids to their rooms. “Quinn’s sleeping through the night so he’s good for now. I know you kids want to be in on this. I’ll allow one hour on your own to learn anything you can about some real estate or company setting Tark Ruban may have in the North Bay. It may be deceptive in form or mention with his name, or the others.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “One hour and no more, Jean.”

  “If we find anything within the hour, we’ll come straight to you.”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  “I like Joan,” Rachel said. “She looks to be a great match for Jian.”

  “I vetted her,” Johnny said. “I don’t know how she’ll take to the truth beyond the US Marshal business. I’ll let Jian introduce her to that at his own speed if he cares about her.”

  “That’s a big step,” Tina agreed. “Finding out about you cartoons was a shocker. Would you have killed me if I didn’t want to become part of your ‘Addam’s Family’, Gomez?”

  “Nope. I would have made Gus do it.”

  After the hilarity died down, Tina needed to get another shot in. “Gus would have never killed me, would you, honey?”

  “Nope. I would have made Johnny do it.”

  “I see where this is going.” Cala breathes in deeply, seeing Johnny about to respond while smiling at her. “It all flows downhill and Cleaner takes care of business.”

  “Cala!”

  “Don’t fret sister of the traveling assassins, you made the cut. Let’s get down to Muerto business. What did you get messaged from the North?”

  “Achmed learned Tark Ruban planned a meeting in the North with our favorite ex-Senator, Diane Cameron. Also attending are Fuma Sabedin and Abu El-Tayed, the wannabe first Moslem Governor of a state. They want us in the North the moment we get an all clear from Tim and Grace.”

  “What’s wrong with this picture? Don’t you think a little break between killing Senators or ex-Senators is in order?”

  “Plus a billionaire, a DC Moslem go between, and a Moslem Governor candidate being groomed for the Presidency,” Johnny added.

  “You know a bit about El-Tayed, huh Johnny,” Nick asked.

  “He was born in this country, but he is all Sharia Law Mutant otherwise. I have been keeping an eye on Dearbornistan for you, Muerto. If this El-Tayed gets into power as Vice President under the traitor Cameron, he will do great damage. Once taking over as President from Cameron, we will be doomed.”

  “Cameron as President will not happen, Johnny. I warned Diane what would happen if she crossed paths with me again. I believe the Monster Squad wants input as to how we can erase these threats from America’s horizon without being exiled to Monster Island. I have a plan for doing that, but we need to find out the place Tark meets with the people on his string.”

  Rachel pointed at Nick accusingly. “Did you let those kids solo on this?”

  “Would you rather they did it behind our backs? I saw their faces. What I did was allow them an hour to help, instead of forcing them to collaborate against us. Sure, we could pretend Jean is a sweet angel, destined to be a model, psychologist, surgeon, lawyer… or we could accept reality. Jean is a force. She owns Sonny, body and soul. Jean leads without thought, fear, or sometimes… common sense. Sonny anchors her and displays everything a young man should be at his age and beyond. We can’t stop this, Rach. Either join me in guiding these two young missiles or we’ll have real trouble on the horizon.”

  “Damn it! How is it a psychopath knows more about raising kids than their own parents?”

  “Objective analysis, my love. Let’s get to work before the pre-teens make us look like chumps. I’m having a sip either way. Join me at your own comfort zone.”

  Nick’s crew launched onto their networked laptops, using every resource available through Nick’s enhanced access. Rachel gestured at Tina. “C’mon, girlfriend. Let’s go watch a movie while the assassin tools work their magic.”

  “Wine will be involved. I’m in for that, especially after learning my fate if I had rejected the Muerto union of killer tools.”

  “You get used to it,” Rachel told her as they left the room.

  Thirty minutes later, Jean ran into the room with her laptop. “We got her, Dad! Cameron’s ex-husband from long ago owns an estate in the Piedmont hills!”

  Gus stood and went to pour another iced shot. “That’s it! I’m done with this crap. We have every resource across the world available to us, and a couple of pre-teens make us look like puppies slavering at the adoption window.”

  Johnny sighed. “Jean’s right. I missed the simple step of ex’s, and missed everything. Good one, Jean and Sonny.”

  “I texted it to John as you spoke. They’ll dissect the parts. Thank you, Viper and Cracker, for a job well done. Go get some sleep. I will get you two up early. We need to patrol the bookstore.”

  “We can’t sleep now!”

  “If you ever want to be a Marine, you’ll need to be able to sleep the moment you’re given the opportunity. Find a way to block out everything and sleep at a moment notice. It is a superpower you need to master.”

  “Okay… It’s a good thing Sonny and I know you wouldn’t pull the Marine card just to send us to bed.”

  “I want your best performance in school. That requires rest. Goodnight.”

  Jean hugged Nick, waved at everyone else, and led Sonny out.

  “I have satellite coverage over the estate, Muerto. I’m showing heat signatures for a dozen people.”

  “The Dark Lord will need to confirm it, Johnny,” Nick replied. “Jafar texted me a moment ago. He and Samira will go there tomorrow with building inspection credentials, check the area around the estate, and let us know what they find out. They won’t get in the house, but they may get a look at the guards or catch a glimpse of our targets.”

  “What plan did you dream up
for this,” Gus asked.

  “Come with me. I’ll show you what I have in mind.” Nick led them to his vault inside the downstairs safe-room. He opened the vault, utilizing both fingerprint and iris scan, where weapons and equipment packs were stored.

  “Oh shit!” Gus pointed at a vest at the side of the vault. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “If you’re thinking bomb vest… then yes.”

  “I cannot believe you would keep such a thing in your house, Muerto,” Cala said.

  “This vault can withstand the blast.”

  “Muerto! You plan on putting that on someone and sending them into the same room with our targets and call it terrorism,” Johnny said with some amusement.

  “It will be terrorism, but not exactly as you describe. We need to get them all. It would be a good thing if we could leave a couple of the Syrian mercenaries alive, but it may not be possible. I have some special syringes to take our targets into a happy place, where I can position them for the surprise explosion. One of their own guys walked into their midst with a bomb vest… the no-good rat. They tried to stop him to no avail.”

  Nick bowed his head. “No one survived. It was horrible.”

  “Oh barf! How do you create this crap?”

  “Tell the truth, Payaso. This plan will cover all the bases. Johnny and I go in as Amin Jutoh and Ebi Zarin, get the drop on them, give them an injection, set the scene, pull the pin, and yabba dabba du – dead terrorist enablers.”

  “What about Ruban’s money,” Cala asked. “We confiscate fortunes. What kind of Robin Hoods are we without confiscation.”

  Nick grinned. “We could spend a few quality moments with Tark. I’m certain he’ll love to transfer our usual fees for exceptional courage and creativity.”

  “John Harding will shoot you through the head for such a lamebrained plan,” Gus muttered.

  * * *

  Deke growled as they neared the bookstore.

  “I knew we should have dropped the kids off first,” Nick said.

  “Yes,” Jean hissed with pumped fist. “It’s battle, Cracker.”

  “What are those people doing,” Sonny asked.

  “They are preparing to show everyone what imbeciles they are,” Cala answered.

  Johnny moved in front of the kids, alongside Gus and Nick, while Cala watched their backs, hand on her Glock. “What would you like to do, Nick? How did they know we would be coming this way?”

  Nick shrugged. “My bad. I thought about one job too many. This morning, I wrote an opening scene in my new novel, ‘Fatima’s Fury’, did a live conversation with Jared about getting him a new MRI machine for the ‘City of Hope’, and studied the chances of anyone detecting my new syringe cocktail.”

  “Your Spiderman/Ninja powers didn’t warn you, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  The dozen young thugs in hoodies and facemasks spread in a semi-circle to block their way. Dressed all in black, carrying baseball bats, and containers of stuff Nick could only guess at, the leader pointed at Nick.

  “You blaspheme Islam! You kill true believers, and unjustly maim and kill our brothers in the Antifa and BLM movements! We know you, McCarty.”

  “Believe me, you don’t. If you did, you’d strip off the masks and run.” Nick held up his cell-phone, Facetiming Neil Dickerson. “I have the Chief of Police watching right now.”

  “Six more in the rear, Muerto!” Cala drew her weapon as men moved on them from the rear.

  “You’ll be dead by the time your cop friend gets here!”

  Nick brought his phone in a face to face for a moment with Neil. “I’m out of options, Neil. I will need to make a few examples.”

  “We’re ten minutes out, Nick. Do what you need to do.”

  Nick slipped the phone in his jacket. “Put your bats down and walk away or I start shooting.”

  “You fire on us and we will own your ass, kafir!”

  No one saw the movement. Something flashed in the hazy first light of day, disappearing to the hilt in the leader’s groin. He danced at first, hands dropping baseball bat to grip his center, issuing short, ragged yelps in an octave so high, Deke howled with him. He sat finally, rocking and forming a growing coating of blood on his hands. His companions stared at their fallen leader in shock.

  “Jean! Sonny! Two shoulder examples in the rear!”

  Two knives streaked instantly from behind Cala. She smiled as the two gesturing men in the lead behind them sprouted handles on their shoulders. Both screamed at the same time, collapsing to the ground, grasping their wounded shoulders. Sonny ran forward, plucked the knives out of their targets, wiped the blood on the writhing men, and returned Jean’s knife. All the while, a smiling Cala, in a shooter’s crouch, aimed at the head of the next nearest one.

  “Those are the only warnings we’re giving,” Nick called out, already aiming his Colt at the man’s groin next to his first victim. “Each of us adults has fourteen round magazines. Make a move and we empty our weapons and reload. We are killers. We are expert shots. Take off the masks and kneel.”

  Cala saw the one in her left peripheral field of vision reach under his hoodie. Jean’s knife pinned his hand to his belly, while Sonny’s tore into his bicep. Sonny streaked ahead again to retrieve the knives from the now gasping in shock, prone man. He also retrieved the handgun in the man’s belt. No one else moved except to get on their knees. They removed their masks, holding them in clasped hands at the back of their heads. Bats and clubs dropped to the sidewalks. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. Jean passed hand wipes to Sonny. He cleaned blood residue from the knives and his hands after placing the confiscated weapon near Cala. Jean accepted the used wipes in another clean one, putting them in a pocket of her school pack.

  “They did good, Muerto… real good,” Cala said.

  Three squad cars penned the group in. Officers emerged with Neil the first from his car, motioning for restraint. “Easy… they’re down. Call an ambulance and a meat wagon.”

  He walked over to the Unholy Trio facing the kneeling men with drawn weapons. “Just another school-day walk, huh Nick?”

  “Fuck this! Allahu Akbar!” A man behind the fallen one lurched to his feet sideways, reaching under his hoodie.

  “Deke! Defend!”

  Deke tore the man to the ground by his wrist, dragging him screaming from side to side. Once the man rolled to his stomach, Deke pounced on his back, with wrist still clamped in his jaws, holding the man unmoving with pinned arm.

  “Move in! Assist the Marshals in subduing this bunch,” Neil ordered.

  Within minutes, the men lie restrained on their sides with wrists at their backs. The weapon and ID checks began then in earnest, while more police arrived with ambulance and transport vehicles.

  “At ease, Deke.” Deke ran over to sit next to Nick, who holstered his Colt and petted him. “There are four stabbings, Neil. We did as little as we could without lethal force, but it was close.”

  “I’ll bet. Who did the knife throwing?”

  “I did.”

  “Where’s Jian?”

  “Girlfriend.”

  Neil smiled at Nick and then at the two grim-faced kids, standing in a formal at ease posture. “Best take the minions of Zorro to school, Nick. Stop by the station when you get a chance. I’ll phone you if any of this bunch has a federal warrant. Otherwise, we’ll book them for assaulting federal agents.”

  “I lost concentration, my friend,” Nick admitted. “I was riding the wave from three other gigs going on in my head. I’m certain they followed us from my house. This might have been a wild gun battle with the kids in the middle of it. I needed to know they’re ready when I screw up. They are. It won’t happen again, but I know now I can count on them to protect each other if it does. Can I check a few things on the leader’s phone? I need to get his identity and learn any connections he has I should know about.”

  “Go ahead.” Neil handed Nick a pair of Nitrile glov
es and evidence bag. “Would he be the one with the handle of a knife sticking out of his groin?”

  “Yeah. Tell him I want my knife back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kill Mission

  No one wanted to go near the groin wounded man, bleating on the sidewalk in short shrieks of pain, before the EMTs treated him. Nick had no such qualms. He frisked the man with professional ease, finding his iPhone in a wallet type protective case sealed inside the inner Velcro pocket of his hoodie jacket. Nick bagged his other belongings, including knife and .32 caliber ACP. One glance inside the wallet case and Nick called Jian. He answered on the first ring. Nick grinned as a female voice asked Jian what was wrong.

  “White-eyed devil! Why are you calling me?”

  “I just texted an address. Get in your Dragon-breath-mobile and get here. I have a transport for you. Calla will go with you. See if Joan can give you a few plastic garbage bags.”

  “Moving now.” Jian disconnected.

  Nick waved off the EMTs approaching. “See to the other wounded. I will transport this one.”

  They glanced at Neil who gestured his approval for Nick’s redirection. “What’s wrong, Nick?”

  “Big trouble in River City. Jian is on his way with a car. He’ll be transporting him to a federal facility for care.”

  Neil understood what that meant. He nodded and set about the task of rapidly clearing the prisoners around Nick and the wounded man.

  “Cala!”

  Cala hurried to Nick’s side. “Yes, Muerto?”

  “I need you to go with Jian and this ass-clown to our special facility for treatment. He is an important federal witness as of right now.”

  “Of course. I will take care of him.”

  Nick then stuck the man with a syringe loaded with the drug cocktail he planned to use in what he now understood to be a top priority. Despite the pain, the man passed out immediately. “Leave the knife in, but soak the wounded area with peroxide, and stuff towels around it. I will join you and Jian as soon as I can.”

 

‹ Prev