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Red Horizon

Page 6

by Bernard Lee DeLeo


  “Of course,” Fenric agreed, relaxing his head back while staring up at the horrific ceiling. He smiled. “This is a very nice setting, Nick.”

  “Thanks, Fen. I’m glad we won’t have to introduce you to some of the room’s more nightmarish implements.”

  “I appreciate the chance to buy an easy death. Some of us would have tortured me simply to hear me beg for death.”

  “Do you have any family? I will send them most of your money.”

  “Thank you… but no, I have happily been alone. Keep it… hey… now that you mention it, I had to be a homeless bum in New York City once to cap a mobster. His name was ah… Willie Fangona. Anyway… I scavenged on the streets in front of Fangona’s apartment building, trying not to get rounded up by the cops. A woman who worked the Salvation Army pot on the corner started giving me coffee and donuts when I’d walk past. She always smiled and said, ‘good morning, I have something for you’. I’d tell her I didn’t need it, and she answered the same way, ‘of course you do’. Give the Salvation Army whatever you want to, Nick. Would you do it in my name too?”

  “Sure, Fen. I’ll have to wait a while though.”

  “No problem. Thanks.”

  Gus brought over his tablet with the schematics of Carone’s yacht, including variations of where Burt told them Carone spent most of his time. Fenric looked over everything carefully. He also named the hotel he was staying at in Monterey.

  “The hotel keycard’s in my wallet. It looks like you have everything I could tell you. He likes hanging out on the bridge. The three times I have met with him in person, Fernando took the meeting on the bridge, dressed in a ridiculous white captain’s outfit like he was on the ‘Love Boat’ or something. He keeps a skeleton crew of about fifteen on board all year. They’re handpicked cartel killers, with other skills for crewing a yacht like The Tempest, and handling the Panga boats with whatever transaction’s going on.”

  “Good info,” Nick said. “I’m surprised you ever met with him.”

  “Yeah… not too smart. I was getting careless. I should have retired with my money but I’m a psycho. Sooner or later I would have killed someone… just for the hell of it.”

  Nick chuckled. “We don’t retire well. What would you like? I have a hotshot of heroin or I can give you the usual instant mix.”

  “Oh man… give me the H. That would be great. You guys really do some nice work. I saw the Ohio Isis cell video with the guy dancing around in front of the hangar before you blew it to hell and gone. The Middle East fruit-loops I was stuck with at the time thought it was fake. I knew better. Well… good to meet you, Nick. Shoot me up, brother.”

  “I’ll see you soon, brother.” Nick gave him the heroin death dose.

  “I hope not… ahhhhhhh…,” Fenric’s eyes closed as he smiled a final time. “It’s going to be hot where I’m…”

  Nick unstrapped Ballesteros, allowing the fading assassin to lie without restraints in the final moments. “Fen went with his boots on. We’ll need to go collect his stuff before we call it a day. I think it may be a good time for Ebi Zarin and his lovely wife to get decked out in traditional cave dweller Islamic garb for confiscation of Fen’s earthly goods, at least his electronic ones.”

  “Good idea, Muerto. Maybe we will be done in time to watch the sunrise at Otter’s Point,” Johnny said.

  “With a bit of Irish?”

  “Of course, Payaso,” Johnny answered. “We had a very good day and night. I am glad Fen decided to cooperate, even though I didn’t get to do a movie.”

  Cala grasped Nick’s arm before he and Gus lifted Fen into a body-bag. “Did you think of letting him go, Muerto?”

  “Not for a second,” Nick answered. “He would have killed all of us at the first opportunity. Fen wasn’t a lost puppy we were putting down at the pound. He was a top echelon killer. We don’t forgive and forget.”

  “You spared Johnny.”

  “I needed Johnny. Also, he didn’t kill families. Besides, I liked him.”

  “I was recruited as a soldier of Allah,” Johnny added. “They wanted me to be a murderer. We were not being persecuted. A few of the believers asked me when I hid out in their mosque why I was a terrorist. They did not dare ask anyone else, but I seemed more open. I told them I served Allah to keep Islam free. They would whisper, ‘but we are free here’. The longer I stayed, the more disillusioned I became. I became angry with the quiet believers who said nothing. I asked them why if they thought what we were doing was wrong… then why did they not speak out. They were too frightened. I grew up in a small village. Sharia Law was meaningless there. I learned the true face Sharia Law shows in secret, with honor killings, female subjugation and mutilation, stonings, murders, suicidal death on a whim while Islam’s leaders live like kings.”

  Johnny drew Cala into his embrace. “I will die before I allow such blasphemy here. If Cala is approached even one more time by her idiot Kader family, I will hunt them down like the jackals they are. I will do El Kabong movies of each death.”

  “Count me in,” Gus said.

  “El Muerto will be at your side, Kabong. Let’s get Fen in the freezer. I think we’ll have a short time to enjoy the beach before we have to move on Fernando. It’s the weekend. I’ll pack a bag and bring Jean, Quinn, Rachel, and Deke with me.”

  “Until we deal with Fernando, maybe you should drive everywhere,” Gus suggested. “We’re not even sure Carone wouldn’t have added you onto Fen’s hit list.”

  “Those ‘bangers will be out this morning in spite of their lawyer’s unfortunate passing,” Johnny reminded everyone. “I think Payaso is right, Muerto. It may be dangerous for you to walk around. What about your new ascendency to number one assassin in the world?”

  Nick shrugged while they placed the Fenric bag on the gurney for transport. “There’s a bunch of notes on my drop, some from my fellow assassins. Apparently they figured rightfully I was no longer taking contracts since ending Frank Richert’s NSA power grab. Since learning the fate of Moreau, I’m getting very popular. Moreau’s old employers are a bunch I’d like to deal with for one reason: to get into a position to put a bullet through their heads. There are Saudi potentates with numerous wives who would rather a professional assassin murder their wives. I swear to God… sometimes… I feel like doing a hit list through the Saudi royal family. Their money funds chaos throughout the world, along with the shitheads who follow that murderous cult of Islam: Wahhabism. I admit I’d take a hit on a Saudi royal family member in a heartbeat.”

  Gus stopped the procession. He pointed a finger at Nick. “That means you’ve been recruited to do exactly that. You’re warming us up for the trigger. Bad Muerto… bad.”

  Nick shrugged. “I was offered a million dollars to take out a Saudi royal prince. It’s flaky by a source I’m unfamiliar with. It’s just one of many I’ve gotten since suspicions were confirmed by Felix’s handlers. They want to adopt me too. I don’t answer the drop e-mail unless it comes from our close personal contacts. I’ve lit up the ‘Dark Web’. Every suspicion about how Felix met death has been gone over in significant detail there, with me as the star.”

  “What name do you go by on the ‘Dark Web’, Muerto,” Cala asked.

  “Terminator,” Nick answered with a grin. “I know Gus introduced Rachel and Jean to the tag long ago. It’s a game. So many departments scan me, measuring prosecution, it’s funny in a way. I hope they’re actually paying attention to the real enemy.”

  “I remember a time when your tag on the ‘Dark Web’ was funny,” Gus said. “After the first time you helped me rescue my brother and friends, I knew the Terminator tag was absolutely accurate. It has proven true in every single op we’ve ever taken. I don’t talk Muerto out of various venues of course. It doesn’t mean I don’t know all he’s done. It means I trust him to be on the right side of every single action in his name. He has been, and I trust he will be so until we end this. The more we talk, the thirstier I get, and the more I desire that
damn cold beach. Plus, I get to watch Kabong dance with the goofy birds.”

  “I shall dance the dance of birds in flight,” Kabong said. “Especially, since I will bring them special treats today.”

  “One of these days we’ll watch the birds cluster about you in those waves you’ve drawn and then you’ll simply disappear on their upward flight.”

  “The birds love me, Payaso. Don’t be a hater.”

  Chapter Three

  Carone

  Quinn laughed in Rachel’s arms as she held him aloft to watch Johnny throw bits of bread into the air, surrounded by a flock of beach birds hovering for snacks. Jean, Sonny, and Deke maneuvered around him while staying far enough away to keep from interfering with the feeding. Deke in particular acted entranced with the bird feeding as always, staying slightly behind Jean’s leg, while peeking at the chaotic scene.

  “I don’t think Deke ever will get used to the flying rats,” Gus said. “I swear… every day we accompany the birdman from the sand out here, the swarm grows in numbers.”

  “You’re probably right, but the kids love it as much as Johnny does,” Nick said. “There’s so many now, I keep expecting them to attack like in the Alfred Hitchcock movie ‘The Birds’.”

  “That movie is creepy,” Tina added. “It gives me chills watching him. I’m like Gomez. I keep waiting for them to start poking his eyes out.”

  “The birds know him so well now, if he ever comes to the beach without food, they will surely attack,” Cala remarked.

  Jean pointed at an approaching vehicle. “Police car, Dad.”

  Nick sighed while taking one last long sip of his spiked coffee. He didn’t look around. “Is it slowing down?”

  “Yep,” Rachel answered while playing with Quinn as she glanced toward the street. “It stopped. Neil got out. He’s waving.”

  Gus took Nick’s cup. “I’ll be back.”

  Nick trekked to where Neil waited. “Hello, Officer Dickerson. How may I assist you?”

  Neil gestured at the squad car. “Let’s talk in the car, Nick.”

  “Do you want me in the front or the back?”

  “Very funny.”

  Inside the vehicle Neil waited for Nick to begin the conversation. Nick kept smiling. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “I texted you the details. What else would you like?”

  “A professional assassin contracted by a mobster living on a ‘Mother Ship’ was sent to ace me because his boss, Fernando Carone, wants to build a port connection for illegal trafficking. You found him before he did it. Want to tell me how?”

  “Can’t. I only told you about the hitter because until I get Carone shut down, you’ll be in danger. Those ‘bangers being released today, Nano Calista and Doug Morgan, were part of Jay Park’s crew. Carone sent them all in to test the waters for his port plot.”

  “Their lawyer, Lance Botorf died yesterday too. His secretary found him early this morning. It seems he died in his sleep. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Nick?”

  “Why ask me that, Neil? I’ve went over the details of everything you should be concerned with. Let’s focus on going forward. I can’t watch for all the ‘bangers who show up in town, hoping to create extortion rackets and drug outlets. You know now to be observant when strange hoodie idiots frequent the town. We’ll move on Carone as soon as possible. He’s dangerous in more than a few ways.”

  “You saved my life again. I know that. Calista and Morgan have already been released. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

  “Nope. We’re good right now. I may ask you to keep an eye on my homestead soon. Gus, Johnny, Cala, and I will be traveling into the Tahoe area for a time. It’s undecided whether I’ll be taking my family or not.”

  “I can do that. What’s with calling Groves, Johnny, and did you three cartoons draft Cala?”

  “We’ve been collaborating with another team in the San Francisco Bay Area. Their leader’s named John Harding. Johnny loved that robot movie, called-”

  “Short Circuit… Johnny Five?” Neil took a moment to enjoy that piece of information. “That…that’s good stuff. I’ve seen John Harding fight in the UFC. Is it the same guy?”

  “The very same, and Cala requested a more active role. She’s taking piloting lessons. Cala also has a few other impressive skills.”

  “Things seem to be heating to a boiling point around here since you all went on that ill-fated cruise. Did you partner with Harding’s crew on that action? I read where it was heavy combat with pirates.”

  “It was heavy combat with Iran backed Isis assholes. There were no survivors… at least on their side. I have a morning’s relaxation to get back to, Neil. Thanks for letting me know about the two ‘bangers being released.”

  “No problem. They gave us an address in Salinas. It’s a known gang hangout. I’ll text it to you. They had money for a taxi, so no one met them when they left. I didn’t know if you’d want them followed or not. Now that I know about Carone, maybe I should have.”

  “We’ll stay alert. Until Carone’s taken care of, we’ll have to be on guard 24/7. See you later, Neil.”

  “Until then.” Neil gave Nick a small wave before getting in his squad car.

  Nick rejoined his crew, relating to them the news about Calista and Morgan. Johnny had finished the bird feeding. Jean and Sonny were walking along the coastal path with Deke as Nick sat down. Gus indicated he had the kids on com. “The cops found the lawyer already. I warned Neil to be on his guard until we fix the Carone problem.”

  Rachel handed Nick a refilled Irish coffee. “We’re lucky to have Neil.”

  “Or he’s lucky to have us,” Gus replied. “Nick’s already saved his bacon numerous times. He’s on the pad.”

  “There’s only so much he can do. He knows many times we have actionable intelligence about national security problems. Grace left a text wondering about fallout after the ‘Starlight’ at sea action. I’ll let her and Tim know about our Carone problem. It would be interesting to know if the DOJ has ears on Carone’s ship, Tempest.”

  “What’s on for the rest of the day, Muerto,” Johnny asked.

  “I’m thinking a cruise possibly tomorrow. With The Tempest parked only five miles off of Point Lobos, we could empty the freezer, and see if we can spot Carone’s pleasure craft.”

  Gus leaned forward in his beach chair with an earnest look. “I’ve studied pictures of Carone’s super yacht. It’s magnificent. Is there any way we could confiscate it, Muerto?”

  “I don’t know, Gus. Mostly, we can’t spend what we do have without attracting the attention of our government. We have the money to buy one or custom make one of those super yachts. To stay under government radar we had to get special permission to get a helicopter through government channels beginning in the CIA Director’s Office, and that was with us paying for it. It’s the money that will be our undoing. I can talk to John Harding. They have an escape island. If we could pull it off, John might let us build a pier to accommodate it.”

  “It’s a waste,” Tina said. “You cartoons would turn it into a battleship anyway.”

  “Stay out of this, T-Rex,” Cala said. “It would be beautiful going on cruises in our own yacht. By the way… who are you calling a cartoon?”

  “Oh… I forgot you’ve become a cartoon too,” Tina retorted. “What was it they call you… Clammy or Crabby… something like that?”

  Cala giggled. “Good one, T. Let’s do it if we can, Muerto. Think of having our own super yacht. Gus mentioned it’s 240 feet long. Doesn’t that take a lot of professional crewmembers?”

  Gus nodded with a sigh. “That’s the drawback. Most are automated to a point they nearly run themselves. A full crew would probably be about seventy members and more, depending on if the yacht can be chartered to the wealthy or not. On a stationary ‘Mother Ship’ that moves only rarely, a skeleton crew of around fifteen would be about right. Maybe crewing with John Harding’s peop
le would be close to the only way we could go on a cruise safely. Even if we hired Issac on a permanent basis, we would need a lot more people. Vetting them to sail with us would be nearly impossible. I could train all of you, but we’d still need Harding’s people too. It’s probably a bad idea.”

  “Don’t discount it yet. I’ll talk to John and see what he thinks,” Nick said. “It would mean an armed assault on the boat against nearly twenty killers. I had planned a full on kill mission. I would mine the ship to blow. After the explosions, we would move in for weapons free destruction until nothing was left. An armed assault to take the ship would mean a bloody battle or my getting on board with some form of toxic gas after everyone is asleep, depending on sentries. I would have to kill them first from long range before going on board with the gas. It would be a tricky mission for one guy.”

  “You and John mined Port Chabahar together,” Johnny said. “The Tempest is a three decker nightmare to assault, especially crewed by killers. I think it’s a bad idea, Muerto.”

  “Did you just insult me, Johnny?”

  That drew laughter from even Rachel. Gus was the first to speak. “When Muerto went on board to end Jason Bidwell and Max Stoddard, he rigged the whole thing by himself, including the interrogations. After that gig, if Muerto says he can do it, he will. If the sentries are roving around the inside of the yacht instead of standing watch, they’ll be tough to spot.”

  “I’ll talk to John. As you pointed out about the crew, we may not have enough able-bodied people to sail a yacht the size of The Tempest. What if we took care of the crew and flew on our own crew of professionals to sail the yacht to ‘Monster Island’. They wouldn’t know what happened to the crew. You could captain your new vessel to the island then, Payaso. I can use CIA people through Paul to make ‘The Tempest’ under a completely different registry. We’ll create a dummy corporation to be the front desk owners of the yacht.”

 

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