Red Horizon

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Muerto and I have done some business on the Wharf. I think I know an approach. If I can get into position we’ll need cover for taking the shot.”

  “This is bad, Gus. I have no dog in this hunt other than my hot dog partner. They didn’t retreat into a building which set off my alarm bells. They’re staying within cover between the buildings on the left side of the restaurant as you face it from the Wharf area. Cheryl says they fire a burst every few minutes to keep their hostages in place.”

  “On it. Stay tuned.” Gus waved a very interested Nick down. “Let’s get the kids dropped off, Muerto. I’ll call Johnny and tell him to meet us at the ‘Lucky Lady’ dock. We have to take this one.”

  Nick drove without comment, watching with amusement as Jean and Sonny built their own scenarios from the one sided call they could hear. When they reached the school, Nick walked the kids to the door, exchanging pleasantries with his parental squad of ex-military dropping their kids off. He maintained a smiling persona while plotting through his own speculation about what crisis project at the Monterey Fisherman’s Wharf area meant in terms of action. Jean voiced with frustration what she perceived from the call.

  “Dad! You’re going out with the ‘Trio’. What’s happening?”

  “Get in the building, kid. I’ll tell you later. That’s an order.”

  One look at Nick’s face, Jean grabbed Sonny’s hand and headed inside without another word. Nick grinned and jogged back toward where Gus had taken over driving duties. A huge Middle Eastern looking man planted himself in Nick’s way with a seemingly innocuous crew gathering near him, past the school property’s edge. Nick kicked him in the groin and ran over him to the car. Gus fired three shots from his silenced Glock 9mm that halted pursuit but didn’t attract attention. In moments, they were headed toward the dock where Gus’s ‘Lucky Lady’ was anchored.

  Nick called Jean. The moment she answered, Nick launched into a verbally short update with cautions to keep inside school at all times. “I’ll call when this other thing is done, Viper. Follow your orders.”

  “I have it, Dad. Be careful. Take care of Payaso and Kabong.”

  “Will do, kid. Talk at you later.” Nick turned to Gus. “I guess the added surprise confrontation at the school has nothing to do with where we’re going, huh?”

  “Nope,” Gus answered. “I don’t know what the hell the school deal was.”

  Nick immediately called Rachel. He gave her the staccato version of what Neil requested, which was a vague perception created from Gus’s side of the conversation. After he explained the short confrontation in front of the school, Rachel stopped him.

  “Wait one, Muerto. I’m on my way to the Monte. Should I redirect to scope out the situation at the school?”

  “Good call, Rach. Yeah. If you could stake out the school front and make sure there’s no more cave dwellers haunting the place I would breathe easier while handling this other matter.”

  “On it. I’ll call you from the school. Did you get a license number or anything?”

  “No time, babe. I trust your instincts for noticing out of place vehicles and occupants.”

  “Okay… I love you.”

  “I love you too, my dear. I’ll stay in touch about our Wharf adventure.”

  “If I find a car or van full of the mutants, can I drive by and shoot them all in the head?” Rachel’s laughter as she hung up made Nick smile. He had put Rachel on speaker. Gus nearly drove to the side into a tree after her last question.

  “Rachel’s out of control, Muerto.”

  “It bothers me she didn’t wait for an answer,” Nick countered. “She’ll drive around the school area and see if there’s any reason for immediate concern. I wish I would have had more time to find out what that was all about.”

  “Maybe they just needed directions.” Gus petted Deke’s head as he jutted it between the seats. “I think Deke wanted some action.”

  “I don’t want Deke getting hurt. I’d rather shoot them all. How’s the ocean today, Gus. I’d like to make a couple shots without bobbing up and down like a top.”

  Gus checked his iPad for weather and ocean conditions. “Not good. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  “I may have to fire a short burst. It’s risky, depending on their position. What do you think about me approaching from in the water? If I can reach the lower pier without being seen, I’d be able to take them out without risk to their hostages.”

  “I’ll bet they’re using that small room at the side of the restaurant. They would have a clear view of the harbor area and the restaurant front where they have the other people pinned down. Swimming over to them would be a suicide mission.”

  “You’re probably right. Hey… what about the other side of the harbor cover along that small cliff? If you could drop me off there, we’ll be so far away, my movements wouldn’t draw attention or fire.”

  “I know where you mean. It’s the tip of the finger of land with that big building near Breakwater Cove. You would have a clear shot. We can park on Lighthouse Avenue and go over the railing to that Monterey Peninsula Trail. Johnny and I can spot and watch your back. I’ll call him to get your M107 out and our spotting scopes. With a solid nest, are you thinking of kill shots or wounds?”

  “Good question,” Nick admitted. “If they’re using the room at the side I think they are, it will depend on the position of the wife and kids. I’m not anxious to blow the guy’s head off in front of his kids, but I may have to. I’m not risking a shooting spree so the cops can take prisoners.”

  “Those .50 caliber hollow points make anybody they hit unlikely to do anything,” Gus said, calling Johnny. A short discussion about needed tools and Gus disconnected. “He’ll be waiting for us on the street with everything. He’s already on the boat. He says the water’s really rough today. The boats in the harbor are bobbing big time.”

  “Make sure you two have your FBI ID’s handy so we can calm any hikers along the trail.”

  “Will do,” Gus replied. “I hope you can wound them too. Otherwise, this will get tricky. You don’t have a contact in the Monterey Police Department. Neil doesn’t have the authority to request federal aid for another city’s police situation. They have their own S.W.A.T. guys, don’t they?”

  “Yep, but they only shoot when given an order in the rules of engagement. I’m thinking Neil thinks I can pull this off and vanish like the Lone Ranger. I hope he’s right. If we don’t get a lot of foot traffic, I know a spot where we can drop down under a small cliff near Breakwater but out of sight.”

  “There’s Johnny. He has Cala with him.”

  “Good. Another set of eyes watching foot traffic will be welcome.”

  Nick drove alongside the couple, who carried the equipment bag fitted for the M107 .50 caliber sniper rifle and their digital spotting scopes. The two entered the rear of Nick’s SUV with a wave and smile. “There is never a dull moment with you, Muerto. Do you mind that I brought Cala with me?”

  “No, we can use the extra cover. I see you brought along our HD camera, my dear Cleaner. Good idea. We’ll need a close wide angle video of everything we can see on the pier.”

  “I will get it, Muerto.”

  Nick found a loop for emergency stops along the winding part of Lighthouse Avenue, near the spot he had in mind for his sniper’s nest. He parked, leading the way left to a spot where the Monterey Peninsula Trail fronted an embankment with a huge tree at its crest. The four maneuvered over the embankment to the spot Nick remembered under the tree topped cliff. The four spread out slightly with Gus next to where Nick readied the M107 with Cala and Johnny on the sides. Nick allowed Deke to go along too. The canine companion instantly went into all out ecstasy while nosing around the rocks for small critters and new smells.

  “You are right, Muerto.” Cala used the range finders before shifting to her video camera. “This is perfect. We are nearly out of sight from the trail above. I see the Wharf clearly. I see the men! My video will be excelle
nt.”

  “They’re hanging out right where you thought,” Gus added. “They have the big door to the side storage area open to block line of sight, but take turns checking their hostages down on the pavement in front of the restaurant. Those look like AK47’s.”

  “Yep. That’s what they are.” Nick crouched behind the M107 mount where he had built a rock platform. Both men wore black hoodie windbreakers. “You see what I see?”

  “They are high on some speed,” Johnny answered. “Their whole bodies are vibrating slightly from it. I do not see the wife or children. They must be inside the storage room.”

  “They will blow a gasket soon,” Gus added. He gave Nick wind speed, humidity content, and exact temperature. “Every third time they both come out at once from beyond the shielding door to check in both directions.”

  “Good call. The shorter one must be talking to the negotiator,” Nick remarked. “His face is twisted in frustration. He also only has one hand on the strapped AK47 over his shoulder. The guy firing the warning bursts keeps both hands on. Okay… next time the weasels both pop out, I’m ready.”

  “I’ll get Neil on the line.”

  Nick’s index finger first pad touched the trigger gently as he settled his breathing to a whisper softness of calm. The temptation to kill them both ripped through him. He took another deep breath, smiling slightly. Next time. Both men emerged from the cover of the door, the shorter one shouting into the cell-phone he carried. Nick squeezed the trigger. The muffled sound of the muted M107 round caused a much louder chaotic shock on the pier as the .50 caliber hollow point slug tore through the man’s wrist and shattered the AK47 stock he held. The force of the shot spun him screaming to the pier, pieces of weapon clattering around him. The companion dropped his phone, gripping the AK47 stock. A split second later, the same fate leaving his partner screaming on the walkway, pulped his hand and weapon.

  “Neil!” Gus barked into the phone. “Both men are down and their weapons disabled. Tell the PD to move in if you can. I see the woman and her two kids running for the main pier. The hostages are realizing what happened and they are moving too. Nick has the two men in his sights still, but I doubt they’ll be able to stand let alone do anything.”

  “Understood. Tell Nick thanks.” Neil disconnected.

  Nick waited until black clad helmeted police arrived on scene before he began disassembling his nest. “That went well. It’s another beautiful day in the neighborhood. Should we send flowers to the hospital?”

  “Only you, Muerto… only you,” Gus said, shaking his head as Johnny and Cala enjoyed Nick’s humorous rejoinder. “I’m surprised you didn’t do a Kensky on them while they were down and blew their ankles apart too.”

  Nick grinned, remembering his maiming of Gerald Kensky, the serial killer up in Washington State. “I thought about it. This will be much easier to explain if I’m called in to make a statement. I’m hoping Neil will simply explain a US Marshal sniper was available and he asked me to assess the situation, where upon I kept in constant communication through the wounding of the suspects.”

  “That sounds very professional,” Cala stated as the four trekked up the embankment to the guard rail separating the Monterey Peninsula Trail from Lighthouse Avenue with Deke pacing next to Nick.

  Johnny took the equipment bag and stowed it in the back of the SUV.

  “I’ll drive,” Gus said. “You’d better call Rachel. She didn’t update you on the school situation. I hope that doesn’t mean bad news.”

  “Damn… I forgot… it’s okay,” Nick said, checking his iPhone. “She texted me everything was okay. I’ll call her.”

  Rachel answered on the first ring. “I heard, Muerto. You did very well. The news crews were there in force with minute to minute coverage. Joe and I are watching it now. The reporters are interviewing the hostages. The woman and kids have already been transported from the scene. No one knows what happened yet. The ambulances have arrived on scene and the paramedics are headed down the pier towards the wounded. How bad?”

  “Just a couple scratches,” Nick answered. “Much less than they deserved.”

  “Yeah… I’ll bet. Are you going to own up to this?”

  “Only if I’m forced to. We’re in contact with Neil. He’ll let me know if I have to make a statement. If I don’t have to deal with hurt feelings from the cops, I’ll be good to go.”

  “I love you. See you after work. I guess you’ll be picking Jean and Sonny up, huh?”

  “I will do that. You didn’t see anything of my school greeting party?”

  “Not a sign. All was quiet when I drove around the school neighborhood. There’s certainly not any people waiting in a vehicle for school to get out. Do you still have Deke with you?”

  “Yes. I didn’t have time to drop him off at home. He was his usual well behaved self. If it wasn’t for those mystery cretins haunting the school this morning, I’d head to the Point with my crew for a celebratory beverage, and chance walking Deke with me to escort the kids. I won’t though. It’s too dangerous. Besides, I don’t want to get called in by the cops half in the bag.”

  “A wise decision, Muerto. Call me if anything changes or you need a lawyer.”

  “I will. In today’s world no good deed goes unpunished. I love you too. Bye.” Nick disconnected.

  “Should we stay in the area?”

  I don’t think so, Gus. Let’s go over to my house. We can have coffee and snacks on the balcony.”

  “Payaso and I, the Kabong, will not have to drive,” Johnny announced from the backseat where Deke stretched out across his lap with head in Cala’s lap. “We can have a taste of the Irish without repercussions.”

  “I’m shocked. You two would drink in front of me after all I’ve gone through?”

  “Absolutely,” Johnny answered.

  Nick sighed. “I feel the Diego series may need a death in the family. Poor Leo.”

  “That is very small of you, Muerto.”

  Chapter Ten

  Preparations and Complications

  US Marshals, Tim Reinhold and Grace Stanwick, ambled into the interrogation room where Nick awaited another round of ridiculous questions. “Hi there, my fellow Marshals. It’s nice to see the two of you are still together. You’re a saint, Tim. I didn’t send for help by the way.”

  “You have friends in Congress and the Department of Justice, at least in the tier down from the idiots running the place,” Tim said. “We’ve already talked with Neil Dickerson. He said you wouldn’t let him fall on his sword for you. He is the one who asked you in on the hostage situation.”

  “Nice shootin’ out there, Tex,” Grace added. “I imagine you had the cartoons with you.”

  “I have no knowledge of what you speak Annoying Grace. As I’ve explained to the nice gentlemen in uniform accusing me of everything from out of jurisdiction to assault with a deadly weapon, I went in person with weapon to assess the situation. I recognized if something wasn’t done immediately, the meth freaks were going to start hosing people down with their AK47’s which were completely automatic and illegal. The thin blue line here looked uncomfortable about asking me all this stuff, especially after getting the toxicity report from the hospital on those two upstanding citizens. They’re getting pressured from above somewhere. It’s not like I killed them which was my first choice.”

  “They’ll never use those hands again to pull triggers. That’s for sure,” Grace agreed. “We shut off audio and visual in this room. Tim told them if they want to be brought up on Federal charges, then just go ahead and ignore us. You’re listed as a S.W.A.T. sniper. Tim and I pointed out that you don’t want any credit for assisting. Once we established Monterey’s Blue can claim the takedown in any manner they wish, it was decided you are free to go. Tim and I also forgive you for not calling us on the Carone operation.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about how busy I’ve been. The operation you speak of had extenuating circumstances we’re still in the
process of handling. It was decided at the top of the food chain Carone and the threads leading from his organization would be handled by our special task force. I will update you two when it’s over. Don’t even mention the name again, okay?”

  “Sorry, Nick,” Tim replied. “That will be great. ‘The ‘Starlight’ operation was incredible. Isis may not have been slowed down much, but you sure punched a hole in their enabler circuit.”

  “It went well. If I understand you right, I can walk out of here with you two?”

  “Not exactly. The Assistant DA wants to talk to you. Her name’s Emily Dorsett. She seems to think you need another five minutes of bullshit minutia after the hours you’ve already been through.”

  “If I can keep my name out of this, it will all be worth the lost time,” Nick replied. “They made me check my iPhone though so I couldn’t funny FaceTime with Jean. Let’s get Em in here so I can get clearance to go.”

  “Okay,” Grace agreed, “but hold onto your temper. Don’t let Dorsett bait you, Nick. Tim and I talked to her for fifteen minutes and I still don’t know what her point is.”

  “Ditto,” Tim said. “Listen, nod, and let’s get out of here, Nick.”

  “I’ll try, Tim.” Nick watched Grace walk out of the room and escort a thin young black woman with a pinched angry look into the interrogation room. Nick figured her age to be middle to late twenties.

  She sat down opposite Nick while shuffling papers. When Nick didn’t react she set the folders down, clasped her hands in front of her, and glared into Nick’s smiling face. “I’m Assistant District Attorney Emily Dorsett. Do you know what these folders represent, Marshal McCarty?”

  “No… but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me whether I want you to or not.”

  Dorsett’s pursed lips almost spewed out whatever actually reflected the vitriol going through her mind. What Nick couldn’t figure out was why. He saw Grace and Tim giving him small head shakes. Grace in particular entertained him with oval mouthed pantomimes of no, no, no. Game on.