Red Horizon

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Tommy rocketed in, annoyingly for me in that moment. “Easy, DL. Don’t do this here. Let’s take this down a few octaves. C’mon, John. We know this game. Let me handle this.”

  I stared at my brother for a long moment while straightening away from the table. I nodded. “Okay, T.”

  I turned to Rock with blood in my eye and a grin of anticipation. “Say one word of disrespect and I kill you. Say you understand so when I do it, all of us within earshot will know I warned you… Betty!”

  “I understand,” Rock replied, knowing he was out of his element completely. He was in a universe of reality we all thought he had learned when he faced us in the hotel room before the ‘Starlight’ mission.

  I slapped his buddy into consciousness and plucked him off the floor. I stuffed him, groggy and bleeding, into his seat. I jammed his cloth napkin into place over his busted mouth, following it with his hand. “Don’t move from this chair.”

  Turning to the very quiet Saturday night crowd, I took a deep breath. “Sorry about that folks. Just a little misunderstanding. All tabs are on me tonight, so eat, drink, and be merry.”

  Applause and whistles of appreciation brought the room out of its silent binge and restored the Saturday night festiveness. I brought Tommy over a chair because there was only one extra at the table. We sat down with the Rock.

  “You coming here instead of contacting either me or Alexi Fiialkov was ill-advised to say the least,” Tommy stated formally. “Our group aren’t video gamers playing ‘Call of Duty’. You found that out in New York. What could possibly be so important you had to come here? I’ve already figured you had a hand in stirring the Mohammed Knowly group into action along with the Nejem family. That’s how you knew to find us here.”

  Rock nodded his head in recognition Tommy was right on all counts. “I do know your group’s rep. I figured you’d learn I bought in on tonight’s fight as one of Knowly’s backers. I came here to tell you I had nothing to do with the dart-gun guy. When one of my men called and told me what happened, I came directly over here.”

  “Okay,” Tommy replied. “Getting mixed in with John’s murder would have been a stunt you would never pull, so I’ll grant you that much. Did you have much contact with the Nejem family?”

  “No. They wanted to know if I was interested in buying in on the fight through Knowly’s people. I only heard they were financing the fight, asking if I’d consider giving Knowly a boost into the UFC ranks if he beat Harding. I agreed to help him and… I put ten grand on Knowly to win.”

  There’s some good news. Tommy and I exchanged grins.

  “We don’t have the results back yet on the dart they used, but if it’s poison as we suspect, the police will want to talk with you. It would be best to go speak with them first and get ahead of this,” Tommy advised.

  “I’ll do that.” Rock noted my Monster Squad eyeballing him like a big juicy piece of prime rib. “We’ll leave now. I know you’ve heard the UFC plans on making it mandatory for the winner of my fight with ‘Berserker’ to fight you. I’m working to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Tommy replied. “We’re aware fighting in the cage under the Las Vegas lights will be different than John plucking your heart out in the parking lot. Backing Knowly cost you ten grand. Don’t approach John anymore. You have my number and Alexi’s. Call one of us if you need someone to contact concerning fights. Is that clear?”

  “Yes. May we leave now?”

  I stood, gesturing the way was clear. Rock and his men filed past the Monster Squad, eyes on the door. “Thanks, T.”

  “It was nothing. I didn’t think our Oakland PD bar should be the scene of a triple homicide. Otherwise, I would have been interested in seeing you mulch the Rock out back. I hope they let us know about the test results soon. I imagine that will make Crue’s interrogation tomorrow interesting.”

  “It couldn’t have been anything but poison. If Crue and the guys hadn’t spotted the Nejems looking up, I’d be dead. They wouldn’t have plotted the dart-gun guy episode to drug me. Jack would have stopped the fight. They wanted me dead. We’ll find out tomorrow. Let’s have a drink. I’m not overdoing it either. There’s too much going on around here.”

  “Agreed.” Tommy followed me over to the bar.

  Denny had slipped in during my Rock encounter. “The dart was tipped with enough curare to kill an elephant. The police have all Knowly’s crew in custody as accomplices to murder, including Knowly, who won’t be discharged from the hospital until morning. Since it was attempted murder on a federal agent by the Nejems, whom I’ve had listed on the terrorist watch list, we keep them. Two of Daddy Nejem’s men are here illegally, of course.”

  “I’m betting Daddy gives me a name. He didn’t finance this hit himself or initiate the plot,” Lynn said. “One thing – no one bothers Amara with this crap. Daddy and the boys are going bye/bye. I remember Nick mentioning a problem with Cala’s Kader relatives consorting with terrorists. I’m wondering if we don’t have a similar situation. These bastards have a network, which is why we should be shutting off all flow of the cult into our damn country.”

  “Paul and I harp about just that at every closed door meeting. We don’t know why the hell we can’t convince these idiots in DC to listen. We have proof of every nightmare imaginable concerning terrorist infiltration and motives. No one listens. We only managed a few concessions on the ports after the China Basin incident.”

  “Sooner or later we won’t be able to kill them fast enough,” Clint remarked. “The Nejem family will not be part of the new Caliphate when our idiot representatives allow it to happen. They leave the earth tomorrow. Period.”

  “If we’re taking the Nejems on a final cruise, we better poke Mellow Yellow for his training session,” Tommy said.

  “I have the weekend off.” Thoughts of the Bay wiped away my buzz in a heartbeat.

  “Sorry, DL,” Tommy replied, not sorry at all. “The heavyweight championship will be on the line. It’s the banana suit for you tomorrow.”

  “Shit!”

  Chapter Five

  Game On

  Daddy Nejem gave us the name of his backer before we could take him from the holding cell. The surprise he named Al-Kadi, the guy we planned a mission on, did not seem to faze Denny. “I don’t see any sticker shock on your features, Den. Do you know something we don’t?”

  Clint, Lynn, Denny, and I joined the minions this morning at Pain Central. The Nejem final cruise would follow the interrogation, but there wasn’t any reason to call in the others on a Sunday. Tommy would join us at the dock for my torture session. Right now, we were busily recording everything Amara’s Father knew. When he began repeating himself, I stopped him.

  “Thanks. That will do for now.” I helped him to his feet, guided him into the interrogation room where the minions already prepared Lynn’s tools. He began to struggle when I placed him on our specially outfitted gurney.

  “What are you doing? I have told you everything!”

  “Yeah… about that,” Lynn said, walking in with Clint. “We don’t take kindly to terrorist woman beaters trying to kill one of our own. Therefore you, my little guppy, will be showing your companions down in holding what will be happening to them if they don’t remember some very interesting information.”

  Mohammed Nejem began crying as Lynn inserted her needles. I didn’t blame him. I flicked the switch for video feed to our holding cell screen. We didn’t know how much his three companions knew, but the technique worked so well, it was worth a try. Besides, as Lynn stated, we aren’t much of a ‘forgive and forget’ bunch. I didn’t like the attempted curare dart murder attempt.

  Lynn stroked Nejem’s face. “Ah… isn’t that cute. Daddy cries real tears. You tried to kill my brother and my adopted daughter. I’ll teach you what pain really means. You can set the example for your buddies down in holding.”

  Dr. Deville, doctor of podiatry torture supreme, spent the next half hour with
Mohammed Nejem during his last moments on earth before a blood vessel popped in his head. After we removed Nejem from his restraints, the minions and I stripped him for his final cruise. Once we set aside the body-bag, we journeyed down to holding where all our guests were crying. It reminded me of the movie where the Kurds captured these Isis supposedly bad dudes. The only thing they did with no one touching them was cry for their mommies. That’s how our guests were. They began screaming when Dr. Deville arrived. She shushed them with a gesture.

  “I see you enjoyed Daddy Nejem’s adventure movie. I hope you boys thought of something really sweet Daddy didn’t tell us. Otherwise, I’m going to have to inspect some feet.”

  “Yes! We know something he didn’t know,” one of them with a full black beard shouted, wiping away the tears. “He…he did not know one of the people funding Al-Kadi. We learned of him from the men who had a safe-house in Ensenada before we came into the States from a container ship. His name is Fernando Carone.”

  “Where can we find him?”

  Blackbeard broke into sobs. “We…we don’t know. He lives on a superyacht along the coast, dealing drugs, and girls. May Allah strike me dead if I lie!”

  His buddies wailed in sync with him as if we cared.

  “Oh shut up!” They quieted immediately upon hearing Lynn’s order.

  “Usually, I’d go for the gold on these goons,” Lynn said. “I remember Nick extracting a name before the ‘Starlight’ gig.”

  “Good memory,” I replied. “Carone was the name Nick mentioned. He has a ‘Mother Ship’ in the area somewhere by San Luis Obispo.”

  Denny, who had been quiet all morning, spoke in a soft voice of urgency. “Let me take these guys. We can learn a lot about this Ensenada safe-house.”

  “Uh… no,” I said. “We’ll take each one to interrogation. They will explain every stone and bush surrounding the Ensenada safe-house and how they reached there, right boys?”

  A chorus of affirmative sobs wailed until Lynn shut them up once again. “Well, Den… there you have it.”

  “Fine.” Denny sighed and started toward the steps. “Bring them along. Let’s keep them apart so we can make sure they deliver the goods for us to compare.”

  Lynn clapped her hands together. “Line up boys. My minions will escort you all to our holding room where our figurehead leader, Captain Blood, may question each of you alone for later story comparison.”

  “I heard that,” Captain Blood called from the stairwell.

  * * *

  We admittedly took our partying out to sea with us. Jafar practiced his captaining skills with Samira as his copilot. Lucas joined Casey, Tommy, Dev, Jess, and the minions after our bad guy fish feed. Tommy let me off with a forty minute banana suit poking. Clint stayed home for the day with his son doing research, so Casey stood in as my shark watch. I was damn good in the water considering my fight the night before. I could tell Tommy was pleased, partly because of my performance, and partly because of the new insulated gloves he used in the poking drill. They eliminated the sting when I whipped around perfectly for a pole strike with knife-hand stroke. Lynn, on board with us alone, joked and fished with Dev and Jess for the first time.

  My satellite secured line phone beeped while we were sipping and fishing. It was Nick. “Hey, brother… I was going to call you after we fed the fishes to compare notes on a guy.”

  Nick chuckled. “Achmed already put your near death experience on the line to me. Damn, John, I hope you’re sipping a few in celebration of cheating death.”

  “I sure am. It was a close one. Nightshot Casey put one right between the dart-man’s eyes in the dark.”

  “Damn it!” Lucas grabbed the satellite phone. I had us on speaker. “Don’t say anything more, Dead Boy. Casey’s head’s so swelled today, he can’t even wear a ball-cap.”

  “Give me the phone, Ahab,” I ordered with a sigh. Casey and everyone else were enjoying the exchange. “Nick and I have business.”

  “Fine! One more Nightshot line and I smash the phone over your thick skull!”

  “Understood,” I replied. “You still there, Nick?”

  “I…I’m here. What guy did you want to compare notes on?”

  “Fernando Carone.”

  “Oh boy… this can’t be good. He’s the one I’m calling you about.”

  That straightened my ass up along with everyone else. I hit all the high points, explaining how we learned of Carone. Nick did the same in short order, along with his idea about yacht confiscation which had my companions barking in pirate talk for Nick’s amusement. We Monsters enjoyed Nick’s decimation of an attacking boat crew from Carone’s Tempest.

  “If their radar warning system works well enough for them to know we’re in the area and they’re paranoid enough to fire at a civilian listed fishing trawler, what did you have in mind for an approach. I’m thinking the only way to get control requires destruction.”

  Nick hesitated for a moment before revealing his thoughts. “I’m thinking you and I helicopter drop from the Stealth about a mile and a half away. Once we get aboard, we assess the situation. If we can take over the ship without a massive assault, great. If not, we send it to the bottom of the sea.”

  “Recon! Don’t you and Dead Boy hurt my superyacht! Good plan. Don’t think for a second I’ll let you exit the Stealth with grenades, Dead Boy.” Lucas caused much amusement as Nick went silent. “I knew it! Why do this if you’re going to blow the shit out of it at the first indication of a problem?”

  “Oh… I don’t know, Lucas,” Nick replied finally. “I was hoping John and I could survive this op. The grenades were to make sure that happened.”

  I raised my hand. “Show of hands. All in favor of Nick and me surviving in case we have to use grenades raise your hands.”

  No hands. Only snickers.

  Nick chuckled. “No one raised their hand, did they?”

  “Not a one, the pricks. I like your approach though. It’s a long swim, but would pretty much guarantee an undetected arrival. I can’t think of anything better. It seems we need to confiscate our new superyacht before going after Al-Kadi.”

  “Agreed. I wouldn’t want to leave too much time go by in case he’s in constant contact with Carone. These assholes networking like they’re doing makes me wonder how many money sources they actually have. We know the damn Saudi’s are funding a lot of this crap. In addition, they own most of our top politicos lock, stock, and barrel. I’m wondering what the hell has to happen before we get to actually stop these bastards.”

  A chorus of loud agreement followed Nick’s statement from my crew. “Probably an event like the atom bomb on a tanker running into China Basin, or them blowing Boston Harbor to hell and gone.”

  “Damn it! I can’t pull back and let something like that happen,” Nick muttered. “I guess if they keep stocking our American swimming pool melting pot with piranhas from the Middle East, sooner or later our leaders will get what they want – a conflagration or Sharia Law. They’ve certainly stocked more upper level administration positions with Sharia Law advocates. Ever wonder where all the outrage went when the feminists disappear during any talk of a woman’s position under Sharia Law and Islam? The Gay Movement is a joke. They’re executed under Sharia Law… yet they are also silent. I guess the pictures and video of our ambassador in Benghazi, raped, tortured, and burned for hours, didn’t convince them of Islam’s other than peaceful intentions toward the Gay Movement.”

  “We hear you, Muerto,” Lynn said. “I’ve dealt with the Middle East cave dwellers enough to know when they come calling, I give better than I get. The Gay Movement is a laugher just as you say. I guess they plan to burrow into the underground after they help lose the only nation on earth where they had real sanctuary. The one I’m curious about is the new transgender bullshit movement. They’ll disappear under Sharia so fast, no one will even notice. They’ll have to go back to pretending in their own bathrooms during dress-up time in the dark.”

 
; Lynn struck a comical cord with that one. We Monsters don’t permit men to go into women’s bathrooms when our kids and wives are in there. God help the guy in a dress going in to share the bathroom with Lynn. He will be a woman after that experience and won’t have to worry about the right biological equipment. His will be gone.

  “I will call you once satellite surveillance of our hoped for mountain retreat and superyacht give us some definition on a final approach to both. That was a disturbing deal with Carone’s minions attacking you at your beach with the kids around. We can’t have that, brother. We’ll kill them all. I’ll talk with you soon.”

  “You Monsters watch your six,” Nick said. “I’m getting the itch of violence. It happens whenever I figure I haven’t killed enough people.”

  “Amen to that, Nick.” I disconnected. “I love Nick’s idea about the superyacht at our new island sanctuary. I hope it works out that he and I can save the ship during mission op.”

  “You damn well better, Recon,” Lucas barked. “It’s written in script now. You and Dead Boy must pirate the Tempest and bring her into the fleet. That’s an order.”

  “Blow it out your ass, Ahab. If Nick and I get into trouble, the grenades will fix the situation real quick and we ain’t dyin’ to preserve the superyacht so the rest of you better be very attentive when Nick and I get aboard.”

  “We’ll have to be close and steaming full bore,” Lucas said. “Otherwise, the only suggestion I have is an attack by Stealth once you and Nick secure a landing zone. Then we can plunk armed people right where we need them instantly.”

  “I like it, Lucas. We’ll have to go full helicopter assault on this one. I say we sail on the ‘Valkyrie’. It has the helicopter LZ’s we need for doing this. I’ll text your idea on to Nick. I’m sure he’ll be on board with it.”

  “Damn… this collaboration with Nick is getting freaky good,” Lynn said. “I have to plan another directorial action down in LA with El Kabong. He has fresh ideas and knows how to get them across to me at the right time. The new season of LA Bounty Hunters will be in production soon. I hope Nick can spare him for a time.”