“We don’t take orders from you, Clint,” Janie replied without conviction.
Clint shrugged. “I’ll get it done through another source, but you two turn away here, don’t ever come back. Are we clear? Go prattle it to your handlers. I’ll wait for the word, but this is non-negotiable. If Montoya is still alive, I will get her back up North.”
“She’s a certified sociopath! We can’t just order satellites repositioned to help you get that nut-cake back,” Sam reasoned.
“He won’t budge, Sam.” Janie tugged on her partner’s arm as she stood up, while watching Clint sit back with arms folded. “What’s the deal with you and Montoya, Clint? You sweet on her or something?”
“When I caught her tuning up that slime-ball, Gradowsky, for the last time with her knife, she looked up at me, smiled, and said ‘thanks for letting me finish’. Montoya dropped the knife and turned around with her hands ready for the cuffs. After I cuffed her she guaranteed me she’d walk on all charges. I should have looked her up after the trial, but I figured I’d better put some time between us.”
“That’s it? Professional courtesy between psychos?”
“You figure to mouth off for a while, Sam, or go try to get me some surveillance photos?”
Reeves motioned for Labrie to stay behind. He walked out the door, his phone in hand. Labrie turned back to Clint with a smile.
“You are sweet on that murdering bitch.”
“Hey, I thought we should have let her keep going. If you want to catch these killers of yours, we need her. We can’t go baiting traps with some Snow White. If Montoya gets the right opportunity, she’ll save on court costs too.”
“If that’s the way you feel, why the hell did you help us capture the ones we went after together?”
“Think about it, Janie. My boss knows if someone dies around me it won’t be by accident. He was experimenting with our collaboration. Strobert makes sure the company pays me very well, and I’m not ready for retirement or prison just yet. Besides, I wouldn’t have let any of us minions get hurt just to appease Denny. If we get Montoya up from Mexico, maybe she can snuff these clucks and we’ll play it off as self defense.”
Janie began shaking her head making noises of disgust. “Didn’t you ever watch ‘Criminal Minds’? We always bring our un-sub back alive, just like we did when you were helping us.”
“I know the tune, but I like having another option.”
Janie laughed and pointed an accusing finger at Dostiene. “I see what you’re planning. You’ll have Montoya there so when the perps die accidentally, Strobert won’t think you went rogue. Don’t bother answering. What’s the use in giggling over the fate of serial killers? We won’t ever get that card to play. Here comes Sam.”
Reeves rejoined them in the kitchen. He sat down and drank some of his cooling coffee. “There must have been a victim that has a relative high up in Justice. They okayed the surveillance. Proctor told me he’d have something for you in the next couple days. Justice has the Zetas hotspots plotted already. He told me to tell you you’re on your own down there when you go. I figured you knew that already.”
“Small doubt about that. I’ll turn on all my rocket science gizmos. Have the stuff sent as soon as they get it. I’ll hook up with you two when I get back from my Mexican vacation.”
“I’m writing you off,” Reeves stated. “You’ll either be dead or rotting in some dungeon, if you’re lucky. The cartels have some imaginative people working for them. They catch you alive, and you’ll be wishing you were dead.”
Dostiene ignored him. “Let me give you some tips on research while I’m away. You know who they’re mimicking. Go back where you think they began and throw a dragnet around any recent interest going back at least a year into the serial killers they’re imitating. Colleges, authors who’ve written books on the killers, media reporters that worked the cases – and don’t get all funky with your profiles.”
“That’s actually really good,” Janie commented, exchanging glances with Reeves. “We were trying to tie in the methodology and the victims. What do you mean by getting funky with our profiles? It’s a proven science.”
“Not with a suspected group working together as they mimic other serial killers, it’s not,” Clint replied. “Sam said this is a bad one. He’s right. Don’t pigeon hole your investigation to profiles. I have to prepare for extracting my psycho. If there’s nothing else, Tonto will see you two out. Thanks for stopping by.”
Clint gestured toward the agents as he glanced down at Tonto. In an instant, Tonto streaked attentively next to the agents. When they didn’t move immediately, he issued a low toned growl.
“What the hell?” Reeves scooted back from the dog as Tonto bared his teeth. “Call your mongrel off! We need-”
Labrie laughed and pulled on her partner’s arm. “C’mon Sam. There’s no use bitchin’ about going. We’ve been dismissed.”
Reeves stood up reluctantly, glaring at Dostiene. “I won’t forget this, you prick.”
“One more word, Sam, and I have Tonto drag you weaponless to the door… and he has back up. There’s no need for pretense between the three of us. You two know something about me. If you knew everything, both of you would be running toward the door.”
“Let’s go, Sam!” Labrie pulled the now standing Reeves toward the door. “Call us when you get back, Clint?”
“I’ll be in touch.” Clint watched Tonto escort the two agents with grim appreciation.
* * *
Dennis Strobert leaned back in his chair, smiling at the face on his notebook computer screen. “Hey Clint, how’s it hangin’? You’ve been quiet lately. I thought maybe that goofy dog of yours ate you. Still holding a grudge about Silva?”
“We secure?”
“Did I give you a reason to insult me?” Strobert pretended to be hurt.
Dostiene nodded. “I want to know if you got wind of what I’m into now.”
“That’s two insults in your first two sentences. I’ve been waiting for your call, pal. I knew you weren’t going down there by yourself on some Zeta suicide mission. You need a little firepower, a coordinator, an in and out – all on the down low. What’s with you and that goofy broad they have locked up down there, Clint?”
“Look, Denny, you give me a boost for this extraction, and I’ll owe you – no strings attached. I’ll do a freebie you can claim any way you want.”
“Let’s talk about that. I think I may have a deal for you. The DOJ wants a piece taken out of the cartels for gunning down our border patrol agent in Texas. They’re too chicken shit to make an outright statement, but they’re willing to deal a favor if we do it for them. It’s a black as coal op, and your shit would be in the wind worse than the Yucatan if you get taken.”
“That ain’t ever happenin’ again, my friend,” Clint stated. “Is Laredo still in his hole on the border?”
“Yeah, and he’s been whinin’ for a month. I’ll ask him if he’s up for an in and out with fireworks. He still has a fifty mounted in that dinosaur he flies. The favor will have to be done on the ground within hours of when and if you can get your girlfriend out. That going to be a problem?”
“Nope. You thought this all out the moment you got tipped, you pirate. Do you have anyone in mind to give me a hand on this gig.”
Denny chuckled. “It just so happens I have my team on the west coast available. They even field a kid to coordinate ops. The kid is what Laredo would have been if we had all the electronics when he was young. If you’re through playing mountain man, I could use you on the coast with them. They have as sweet a cover going as we’ve ever had.”
Dostiene’s features darkened. “Don’t play me, Denny. If they’re competent to come on the cartel deal, I’ll deliver on the second part. No need making it into a recruitment poster.”
“The main three members are Casey Lambert, Lucas Blake, and John Harding.” Strobert had never seen surprise on Dostiene’s face. He grinned in appreciation and nodded. �
�Think they’re competent enough?”
Clint shook his head in awe. “I admit I’ve wondered how you skyrocketed up the ladder from handler to chief of ops. Anyone with the balls to cement a crew like that together deserves to be the head of CIA. What kind of cover do they have that’s so special you managed to keep murderer’s row together.”
Strobert laughed. “I am so going to tell them you said that. Here’s the deal. John’s worked his way up into UFC from his street fighting days. They did a hit during a UFC event last year in Dubai, sweet as you please. They have families, and a bond retrieval/security business run by John’s wife. I can freelance them anywhere in a heartbeat, including crossover ops where they need a wet-work option. You can’t stay up in the boonies forever, Clint. I have an enclave of the deadliest guys I’ve ever worked with, raising families, and watching each other’s backs. They’re like the ‘Brady Bunch’ from hell.”
Dostiene ran a hand over his scalp, clearly stunned. “Damn! You say John’s married and his wife’s running the op?”
Strobert gestured in a cautioning motion with his hands. “Lora’s position is a little strange. She’s hella’ good making sure everyone is where they ought to be, and she knows Oakland politics. Lora keeps us on the down low, while making those clowns a fortune. I can’t explain it all to you. Also, until you get settled as to what you want Montoya for, can you be the only face she sees?”
“Of course,” Clint answered. “After they help me open up the cartel can, I’ll send them back, and take Lynn out by myself to another LZ. Can you pick them up with a different carrier?”
“That would be my plan. I’ll have them plucked out of there to the states at Antelope Wells. If you get back in one piece, they’ll be border patrol for a day at the crossing. I don’t want you stopped there for any reason. John wants you with him. He needs a top notch investigator to round out their cover gig, and a woman like Montoya who ain’t afraid to get her hands dirty. His words – tell Clint I’ll get him a house on a hill with acreage and an ocean view if he’ll give us a shot.”
“That grunt saved my life, and Lucas trained me the same time as Casey. Those guys are family to me. I’ll come down off the mountaintop any day to take a shot like you described. I have serial killer business though with the FBI. I heard you directed them my way. Otherwise I would have never heard about Lynn. I owe you one on that, but I see now you had ulterior motives.” Clint grinned and shrugged on the screen. “I’m in.”
“I’ll gather the forces of darkness,” Denny replied. “I know you went walkabout on the Montoya case when you caught her. Can you do the same thing when you figure out what’s going on with the killers your former FBI partners are begging help on?”
“If you mean let them hack up more women on purpose, that would be no. I’ve done a little checking, and the perps are taking breaks in between killing sprees. They just did a couple, so I might be able to put off finding them for a short time. What do you have in mind?”
“I have something planned in Las Vegas coming up soon. John and his crew will be there for his undercard fight on the UFC ticket at the Mandalay Bay. It’s a rematch with some clown called ‘The Syrian Slayer’. John broke his arm in their first match, but the guy has been raging through everyone he’s fought since his recovery. He wants Harding in the worst way. A guy who owns a piece of him is a target of interest I’d like to assume room temperature. He’ll be there. No one can get close to him. He has a small army around him at all times. He’s a player.”
“So if I am able to get Montoya away from the cartel in one piece, she might have a couple of options besides the FBI gig, along with a tryout in Las Vegas,” Clint replied.
“Without you though the deal goes south,” Denny pointed out. “Killers are hard to come by in Montoya’s class, especially females. This added consideration is a no strings attached deal. If you want in with Montoya let me know when you get her out safe. If she’s too far gone or you want to keep the status quo, then no hard feelings. How’s that sound?”
“Too good to be true, but worth taking a look at.” Dostiene paused for a moment. “John’s the real deal. You aren’t blackmailing him into taking me and my psycho on, are you, Den?”
Strobert burst out laughing. It was many moments before he brushed a hand over his face and turned toward Clint again on screen. “Man, I needed that. Yep, if I ever decide I’m sick of living, I’ll try blackmailing John Harding… or you. Send me your details on the cartel op. Can I tell John you’re interested?”
“Hell yeah. I’ll have the plan to you within the hour.”
“Until then… until then,” Denny replied, disconnecting. He sighed contentedly. Harding, Lambert, Blake, Dostiene, and a cold blooded female killer, all in one spot, ready for duty with a cover and support cast. Head of CIA… here I come, he thought with a grin.
Chapter Two: Gronk
I hear Al’s super duper i-thingy play its ringtone with Alice’s sweetheart, Beater, Beeper, or something. Jafar glances over at me with a grin. I may have growled. Next, the phone bops me on the head, before sliding over my shoulder.
“Mom wants face-time with you, Dark Lord,” Alice explains in between giggles.
“The Dark Lord does not do face-time,” I snarled in my best Darth Vader voice.
“Get me in front of you, DL, if you know what’s good for you,” Lora’s voice demands in my ear. “You turn yours off one more time and I’m going to staple it to the side of your head.”
Jafar and Alice have a laugh fest over that one. I bop Jafar in the back of the head to remind him he’s driving. I take the i-thingy in between thumb and forefinger as if it were someone’s half eaten hotdog. I smile at my wife’s stern features. Lora runs my operations so she figures it’s okay to have me on a short leash. I immediately promised myself I’d hear her beg tonight, and not in pain either.
“Hi honey. You couldn’t wait another fifteen minutes for us to bring home Beeper’s groupie from school?”
“Bieber! His names Bieber!” Alice has deemed it a mortal sin for me to disrespect Beeper. “Mom! Tell DL not to make fun of Justin.”
The screen goes blank for a moment with accompanying snorting noises of distress as Lora stifles her laughter over Beeper’s disrespect.
“Mom!” Alice notices, and is not happy. “See what you’ve done now, DL? You’ve turned my Mom to the dark side.”
That was it. Jafar pulled over to the curb, howling in laughter, along with Lora, who gave up all pretense of restraint to join him. I’m leaning back, enjoying the whole thing. I take entertainment where I can get it.
“Mom! The Dark Lord is feeding off of this!” Alice has begun to lose it too, tacking on an admonishment while giggling through it.
“Okay, DL, you’ve corrupted us all yet again,” Lora admits the obvious, coming back on screen as I hastily whip it up so I appear to have been attentive. “Get off at the next block. T’s on his way to pick you up. We have a Gronk sighting at the Laurel Lounge, in progress.”
Oh shit. “Ten-four, Mistress of the Dark.”
“I see in your mottled features you’re unhappy with this detour, Dark Lord,” Lora zapped me. “Why this sudden squeamishness with working your job for a change?”
Okay, let’s dance. “You know I’m fighting tonight, and T is completely mental at me for everything, so yeah, let’s throw Gronk into the mix. It’s a good payday though, right?
“Oh baby,” Lora replies in her sweetest husky voice. “You and T pick him up at the Laurel, and many in the law enforcement arena will be very happy. Yes, dear, I know you fight tonight and T refuses to even discuss it.”
“You sided with Tommy!” I’m enjoying this. I have my life list, and everyone else has theirs. “Maybe you should back a different horse.”
Lora smirked… the vixen. “He’s right, DL. You’re risking our UFC shot in Las Vegas, and for what, so that you can tangle with that goofy Gustavo Dixon? Forget the next block. Get out here and let Jafar bring Al home
. I have T in my ear and he says he’s thirty seconds from you.”
I open the door as I hand the i-thingy back to Alice. That’s the problem with all this crap. Everyone has a satellite beam on you wherever you are, and they wonder why I turn everything off. I hear Lora squeaking in protest. “Gronk’s at the Laurel, kid. T’s picking me up to go get him. Take Al straight home.”
Alice launches out of the rear door. She jumps me. “I’m sorry about messin’ with you. Be careful, John.”
“Hey… what’s this all about?” Alice and I have a bond. She’s tough, and I couldn’t care more for her if she were my own flesh and blood.
Al pulls away for a moment. No tears. Just folds her arms over her chest exactly like her Mom does to me with the same look of aggravated annoyance. “You’re doing too much. Your luck’s going to run out if you keep going like this. Even Uncle Tommy says you shouldn’t be fighting tonight.”
“She’s right, John,” Jafar leans across the seat to ping me.
The look I give him sends Jafar scooting back into place as the driver, hands locked on the wheel, and eyes straight ahead. I put a hand on Alice’s shoulder as Tommy pulls up behind us. “I’ll see you at home, Al. The fight’s not until ten. I thought we had an agreement.”
“I’m worried. I know who that Gronk guy is. He looks like Frankenstein.”
I laugh. “You mean Frankenstein’s monster.”
“If he had terminals sticking out of his neck, he’d be a dead ringer for the monster. I read in the papers Mom had on her desk that he killed people, only they can’t prove it.”
She’s a doll. “Gronk’s going down, Al. Don’t do this. I have to go. I’ll be home later to talk about it. Tommy and I don’t take chances, kid. What, you think I’m going to get into a fistfight with that clown on a fight night? Get in the car, Al. I love you. Tell-”
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 31
