“Damn, Muerto… that’s brilliant,” Gus admitted. “Talk to John. We’ll need him on board for this. We’ll need a well-built docking facility. They may already have one built for their own boats. A 240 footer would require a dock far larger than even their ‘Valkyrie’.”
“No harm in finding out. I’ll call John today before we empty the freezer and go hunting for The Tempest tomorrow. Can you prepare our fish food for tomorrow morning, Cleaner?”
“Of course, Muerto,” Cala answered. “Johnny will help me. We’ll be going now though. We need some sleep. Although Johnny has only had one coffee, I am designated driver for Payaso and T-Rex too. Let’s go lushes. We must prepare for our cruise.”
“Don’t you be issuing orders, Nurse Ratchet! Kabong? You need to keep ‘Crabby’ in line. She’s been hanging out with you cartoons too much.”
“My love,” Johnny said, taking Cala’s hand. “Don’t aggravate the T-Rex. She will take it out on Payaso and he’ll whine all day tomorrow.”
“You are right. I am so sorry. Please take your time joining us at the humble Groves mobile,” Cala replied, waving at Nick and Rachel. “See you tomorrow, Muerto.”
“Viper? This is Payaso,” Gus called out on his com unit. “Return to base.”
“Understood, over,” Jean replied in his ear.
“They’re on the way back. Nice morning.” Gus handed his com unit to Nick.
“Yep. It was a good one, Gus. We’ll be a bit busier tomorrow. I’ll let you know later how John feels about our boat plans. Would you like to come along on the cruise, Cousin Itt?”
“About as much as I’d like to be put in a closed box full of Tarantulas, Gomez.”
“A simple no would suffice, Cousin Itt,” Nick replied.
After their friends left, Nick and Rachel relaxed for a few moments while sipping their Irish coffees. They knew it would not take long for Jean, Sonny, and Deke to return.
“Your horror show dance card sounded full, Muerto,” Rachel shifted the sleeping Quinn slightly in her arms. “I’m glad you’ve joined with Harding’s crew on some of this terrorist crap. With all of you sharing threats and information, maybe there can be a lull in this insanity. I figured after the pirate combat and destruction of Chabahar, it would at least give the Muslim horde pause for a couple months.”
Nick thought about Rachel’s words for a moment. He didn’t want to blurt out some feel good talking point to a wife who had spotted for his sniper’s nest in combat. “I’ve given up trying to decipher what our government leading idiots have in mind for us peons. They import terrorists under the guise of human rights in the tens of thousands, positioning them all over the states… I guess so they’ll be ready to massacre us during their final uprising. They constantly try to take away our Second Amendment rights, the only protection we have against them and the invading Islamic plague they’re importing. They use laws they passed without our representation to intimidate anyone standing in opposition to their tyranny. They steal the money we earn, the money we save, and the money they confiscate from our bankrupt Social Security retirement. Worst of all, they give our confiscated money to illegal aliens, terrorist imports, and professional welfare cheats.”
“Damn, Muerto… we should run you for President. If you’d stop killing people for a few years, your checkered past might dip under the radar.”
“Very funny. See, this is why I never answer you with anything other than sarcasm or humor. When I answer you seriously, I get disrespected and discounted.”
Rachel muffled amusement with her hand. “Discounted? You mean like a reduced price Muerto where we only get a couple dollars for a discounted Muerto?”
“You’re mean!”
* * *
Deke sniffed over a varmint hole under the rocks as Jean and Sonny came into sight of Otter’s Point Beach where the coastal path paralleled the road. Jean smiled over at Sonny. They could hear Nick and Rachel laughing.
“What do you think they’re laughing at?”
Jean shrugged. “Who knows? They could be snorting over anything. Dad’s sharp funny but Mom’s catching up to him fast. Mom spotted for him on the cruise in the fight with the pirate boats. I can’t wait until he can take us out shooting again. We did real good, both with the range finders and the rifles.”
Jean held the range finders she had taken on the walk with them. “What did you think of using these? Pretty neat, huh?”
Sonny nodded. “I liked the target shooting lessons a lot. All the calculations in the range finding was heck of cool too. Think about your folks on top of the ship with your Mom calling out targets and your Dad killing one pirate after another from that distance. I-”
An engine revved in the direction of Lover’s Point along Ocean View Blvd. They watched a Camaro convertible roar into view at twice the speed limit with the top down. Three guys with black hoodies and sunglasses occupied the front and rear seats. The two not driving hung over the door frames on the passenger side. Slowing to a stop a distance down the road from the kids, the car occupants watched the Otter’s Point beach for a moment with the driver pointing. The Camaro began approaching again at a fifteen mile per hour pace. Jean didn’t wait. She tapped her com unit.
“Incoming gangbangers, Dad! Metallic dark green Camaro convertible!”
“Understood! Get down, Viper!”
“Understood!” Jean crouched, pulling Sonny down with her and gesturing Deke to her side. She moved into a comfortable position, where she could stay in sight of Nick and Rachel’s position on the beach. Sonny crouched next to her with Deke joining them, his head poking in between to see what held their attention.
The kids watched as Nick scooped Rachel from the beach chair with Quinn in her arms, and physically put her in a position next to the rock wall where she could not be seen from the road. Jean sighted in the Camaro with the range finders as it neared the spot opposite where Nick had placed Rachel and Quinn. It brought the occupants into crystal clear clarity. She tapped her com unit as Nick retrieved their beach bag, taking it with him to the wall near Rachel.
“They have those funny looking machine gun things, Dad!”
“On it. Thanks, Kid. Stay down.”
“Understood.” She looked over to see Sonny had his knife in hand, ready to streak down the path toward the beach. Jean put her hand over his. “Don’t, Sonny. We would only die rushing down there. If bad things happen, we have to stay alive… to get the guys who did it.”
“Jesus, Viper… do you think those guys can get your Dad.”
Jean smiled, watching Nick move along the rock wall away from Rachel and Quinn. “They don’t have a prayer.”
* * *
Nick’s chair tipped over after talking with Jean for only a moment. In the next few seconds Rachel was in his arms, with Quinn held tightly at her chest, and then against the stone wall bordering Otter’s Point. “Is Jean okay?”
“She’s fine. Stay here, Rach. Don’t move.” Nick handed her the Glock 9mm handgun from the bag he hurried over to retrieve. “You know the drill. Stay still until you have a target. Call the cavalry.”
“On it.” Rachel shifted Quinn for access to her iPhone while staying in control of the Glock.
Nick moved below the wall to a spot twenty feet beyond Rachel, nearly to the rocky outcropping on the left of the beach, acknowledging Jean’s weapons warning. He waited, visualizing Ocean View Blvd. Nick calculated the angle he needed to adjust when he made his move to fire. The curb along Ocean View, near Otter’s Point’s rock wall, poked inches up from the dirt, separating the curb and wall. Nick closed his eyes while readying his .45 caliber Colt. Hearing the Camaro’s deeper throated exhaust throttle down to idle, Nick twisted upwards from his position, instantly acquiring targets.
The first hollow point .45 slug smashed into the first hoodie’s head, hanging over the passenger side front door frame, splattering blood and brain matter as it exited. The second went through the rear seat passenger’s head. When the cringing
driver, who had dived down on the seat straightened to punch the gas pedal for a hasty escape, Nick was standing next to the Camaro on the driver’s side. Nick pistol whipped the driver and reached in to shut off the engine, but kept the ignition in the run position. He hit the switch for the convertible roof, closing it.
“Everything’s fine, Rach,” Nick called out. He smiled when a hand waved over the stone wall.
“Cleaner’s coming down the street with Payaso and Kabong, Dad.”
“Good! You and Sonny can join your Mom and Quinn. Pack up. We have to get away from here. Keep your eyes open for anyone jogging or stepping out of the surrounding houses.”
“Understood.”
Nick opened the driver’s door. He shoved the unconscious driver over the gearshift into the lap of the dead passenger, continuing to force the man down into the space between the seat and dash. By then Gus stood at the passenger door, yanking the still alive driver’s hands behind his back. Johnny handed him a plastic lock restraint which Gus used on the driver. Johnny handed Gus a syringe to make sure the driver didn’t wake until they needed him to.
“Give me a hot shot too, Johnny. I’m going to try and question the driver on the way. If I get lucky, we’ll fix him for a quick deposit with the rest.”
“So much for nice mornings,” Gus said, giving the driver only a partial shot. “Johnny and I will take Rachel and the kids home. We’ll join you right after we tuck the family into the safe-room. You can ride with Cala driving to horror house. Are you okay with riding next to dead men, Cleaner?”
“Did you just insult me, Payaso?”
Cala’s indignant reply earned a moment of humor as Nick dived into the rear and Cala took over driving duties. Nick waved at his friends. “Thanks, guys. Viper may have saved our asses. She warned me from down the pathway we had trouble on its way. See you both in a little while.”
Johnny clasped Cala’s hand for a moment and then moved on to take care of Rachel. Cala sped off toward Carmel Valley immediately. “How did Rachel take it, Muerto?”
“With 9mm in hand,” Nick replied. “After our time on the run, nothing much bothers Rachel.”
He continued shoving the body in the back down between the seats. “Next place in the road where you can stop without much traffic, I’m going to yank the live one back with me.”
“Just ahead,” Cala replied, driving to a spot off the road, nearly barren of traffic on the way toward Lighthouse Avenue.
Nick got out quickly, ran around and ripped the live hoodie from under the seat. Cala waited with the rear door open for Nick to shove him into a sitting position on the rear seat. A moment later, Cala drove away from the roadside again. Nick fixed the man into the seatbelt. The hoodie absorbed the blood from Nick’s pistol whipping, where it had coagulated to glue the material at the side of the man’s head. Nick buckled him in with his hands already restrained at his back. He slapped the man into groaning consciousness. The man’s eyes blinked as his head swayed from side to side in pain. Only after a few more minutes of groans and moans did the man start trying to form words.
“What the fuck you do me for?”
Nick used his stun-gun on the man’s groin, causing him to jackknife upwards with a scream. Cala giggled, keeping the vehicle steadily moving. “No stupid questions. I’ll keep it simple for you. The next bad answer or stupid question and I will toast your nuts for thirty seconds of hell. Do you understand?”
“Yeah… yeah… don’t zap me!”
“First. How did you know to find me at Otter’s Point beach?”
“My boss knows all your hangouts. He tell me you and your friends are always at the Point in the mornings. He say cap your ass and anyone with you there. I picked up Calista and Morgan when they were let go. We came after you the moment they got released. Man… nobody say you was a killer, blood. Can’t you let me go? I ain’t in this killin’ shit.”
“What’s your boss’s name?”
“Carone… Fernando Carone.”
“Did he call you personally?” Nick knew if the minion with him said Carone called him personally it would be a lie.
“No, man… Carone call nobody. He get his boy, Hector, to call me from his boat. They anchored off the coast some place.”
“When Hector told you to bring Calista and Morgan to kill me, did he say why?”
“He tol’ me you a local fud, stickin’ your nose in Carone business. He don’t know you a killer. Who the fuck are you, man? Carone never give up when he got a problem. He send King Kong and Godzilla to get you if he have to.”
Both Cala and Nick shared amusement over their captive’s declaration. “What’s your name, homeboy?”
“Jarrod. Let me go, man.” Jarrod saw in Nick’s eyes he would not be living past the day. He shook his head more in self-loathing than outrage. “Shit! I knew it… I tol’ Calista this was bad Juju.”
“I can help you to the other side without pain,” Nick replied. “I have only a couple more questions. Were you a member of Jay Park’s crew?”
“No… a guy named Biff hired me to drive. I used to ‘bang in Salinas, but the money with Carone was double anything I ever got. All I had goin’ was to follow instructions. Biff and his boy Ray in town too. They killers. You best pray they don’t find out what you done. They mobbed up down in East LA for a cartel in one of those Flamingo countries.”
Nick put a comforting hand on Jarrod’s shoulder. “Ah… thank you for your concern. I hope Biff and Ray weren’t your besties or anything. I already guided them into hell earlier.”
Jarrod’s eyes widened, staring at Nick in shock. “You did Biff and Ray both… man… what the fuck are you… the reaper?”
“Wrong movie,” Cala giggled from the front. “He’s Muerto, the Terminator.”
“Oh shit!” Jarrod’s chin dropped to his chest. “We fucked with the Unholy Trio. I…I seen those videos. Please… don’t do me like those guys.”
Nick injected Jarrod with the hotshot Johnny gave him before they split up. He watched Jarrod stiffen with eyes wide before slowly relaxing into his smiling journey to hell. “You earned a quickie, homeboy. Say hello to Biff and Ray for me. Tell them no hard feelings, it was just business.”
Jarrod’s eyes closed for the last time, his mouth trying to form a last response.
“I think the cruise tomorrow will be very important,” Cala commented.
“Yep. We have to get after this Carone guy. We don’t want him to have a chance to send King Kong and Godzilla after me.”
* * *
Rachel lay on her side, panting as Nick stroked her side lightly, causing her to shudder. “What did you do to me?”
“A little of everything.”
Rachel turned in his arms, pulling Nick in close to her. He kissed her with the tenderness of a lover’s care. “God… I love you.”
Nick continued his light touch along Rachel’s side, the sheen of sweat coating both partners an indication of their intense interlude. “I love you too, baby. I am sorry I didn’t call you after our beach combat session. I should have, but I needed to help Kabong and Cleaner with our room temperature cruise passengers for tomorrow. I lucked out and caught Jerry. He took the Camaro with short notice on a weekend day.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to sound like I needed an apology earlier, but apology accepted and thanks for the penance. Gus remembered we were waiting in the safe-room, so it was only an hour in the vault. Jean and Sonny of course relived every aspect of the event. Do you think they could have killed us all before you stopped them?”
“It depends,” Nick said truthfully. “Their choice of car with altered exhaust sound would have probably triggered a look and put me on alert. Because of Jean’s warning, I was able to get you armed and undercover with Quinn. That’s golden because I could focus on the bad guys.”
“You sure did that. I’m glad it was still early in the morning and the joggers weren’t all over Ocean View Blvd. Would you have called Neil if some of the weekend runne
rs or gawkers had witnessed it?”
“Maybe. I needed to find out how deep the shit pile was that left us in the target zone on my beach. I’m not giving up Otter’s Point, even if I have to kill every ‘banger and thug from the Monterey Peninsula to Salinas.”
Rachel brushed her lips over Nick’s shoulder before hugging him. “I’m glad the kids went out like lights tonight. The day long strategy session, morning combat, and afternoon knife throwing contests wore Jean out. Sonny was dragging too when I took him home. Quinn’s been eating well so he’s finally sleeping easily. You sure put our small space of alone time to work in a pleasurable cause.”
“I enjoyed it as much as you.”
“Want me to make you something to eat? I know you didn’t have much chance to get a meal today.”
“No. I don’t feel like it.” Nick rolled over on his back.
Rachel moved atop him, stroking his cheek. “Why, what’s the matter. You should have worked up an appetite.”
“I don’t know what it is but I can’t taste anything but tuna fish right now.”
Rachel gasped, smacking Nick on the side of the head while he tried and failed to suppress amusement over his sexual innuendo. Rachel began chuckling after a moment. “Not funny!”
“You’re laughing,” Nick pointed out. “It’s funny because you know it’s not true.”
“You’d tell me if I smelled, wouldn’t you,” Rachel asked, climbing over him and pinning Nick’s shoulders. “I don’t smell like fish… do I?”
“Hell no. It was a joke, Rach. You’re wonderful in every way, baby. Don’t start obsessing.”
“Do women really… you know… smell like fish?”
“Some do.”
“I’m not trying to be naïve but what do you think causes it?”
“Bacterial infection mostly, Rach. Don’t get into the specifics. I repeat – I was kidding.”
Rachel shook his shoulders. “Okay, but were you ever with a woman that… did smell?”
“Yep.”
“Well… what did you do?”
Nick hesitated for a moment before pantomiming uneasiness at his being with a woman exhibiting possible bacterial problems. Then his voice went into robotic bass voice as if issuing orders in his brain. “Abort… abort! Danger… Will Robinson… danger. Abort!”
Red Horizon Page 7
