Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “You know me, Clint,” Laredo said. “I gave up everything when asked. Hell, I know pros don’t stop. No way in hell was I going to get tortured for months just to finally give it up when they got creative enough. These people don’t follow the Geneva convention directives or even common human decency, and they know damn well they will get the truth out of you. Oh, wait a minute… they’re just like you guys.”

  “You look okay, brother.” Clint put his arm around Laredo’s shoulders after he and I enjoyed a laugh over his interrogation philosophy, because he was right, except maybe in Clint’s case. “We’ll go over the items you told them later. So, they mostly gave you attitude adjustments after the interrogation, keeping you alive for ransoming. Give it to me straight. Do you think the suave Sadar here could have been enticing enough for a hookup with Maria?”

  Laredo thought about it. “Late thirties, uniform, his own fortune from screwing people, not hard to look at, speaks a few languages… yeah, I could see it happening. I know about Terrance Brannigan. I’m betting it wouldn’t have happened if he saw it coming. I take it you guys have a lot more to add in the Terrance Brannigan category, huh?”

  “Yep. I guess we need to pack Maria up for shipment. Let me check for an all terrain vehicle to make our journey fast and easy to the LZ. You’ll help with that, right Sadar?” I put the Vulcan neck pinch on Sadar as he shook his head agreeably.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were speeding toward our LZ with plunder and prisoners in a four wheel drive Toyota pickup with thunder, lightning, torrential rains, and a very happy Laredo Sawyer. I broke radio silence. We stayed off air unless either party had something important.

  “DL on line. We have package. Coming at you in a Toyota.”

  Jafar’s relieved voice came on immediately. “Acknowledged DL. The Cleaner states she is wet and unhappy.”

  That cracked up Clint and I. Lynn’s official tagline was The Cleaner, much to her professed outrage. Then Lucas’s voice came on. “This is Ahab. Get your asses back here before I have to put a round in the back of her head.”

  That pronouncement did nothing to help. Clint was helping me steer while both of us were howling, with Casey hugging Tonto for stability.

  “Lynn Montoya,” Laredo stated with conviction. He leaned in where his audio could be heard. “Hey cutie, is that you?”

  “Yeah, cowboy, the damn boys club dropped me into this fuckin’ jungle dressed in twenty pounds of equipment in the middle of a fuckin’ hurricane! Help me!”

  Now all four of us unbound people were howling. I finally got enough of a grip to speak. “We brought you two new toys, Cleaner.”

  “Well damn! Now you’re talkin’. I hope they aren’t as disappointing as Katy.”

  “Katy,” Laredo repeated questioningly.

  “Lynn scared the female contract killer so badly, she gave up everything before Lynn got to play with her new toy.” Clint shrugged when Laredo’s gaze narrowed, uncertain how to take that information.

  “Did not!” The Cleaner interjected.

  By then I was nearing our LZ. The torrential rains were subsiding slowly. Lucas met the Toyota as I slowed to a stop. “I would have hailed for pickup, John, but we have an incoming convoy of some kind. Jafar is trying to narrow the satellite range down to get a better look. How do you want to handle it – take them now or go to ground until they leave?”

  Casey spoke before I had a chance. “I hate hot LZ’s. We’re rogue anyway. Let’s act like it. I say find out if the convoy has any plunder. Arrrrrrrhhhh maties!”

  Yeah, we’re all a little nuts. In answer, Ahab, The Cleaner, and Geek-boy all started doing their crappy talk like a pirate routines. “Fine. Casey takes out the lead truck with the M107. I’ll blow the last one in line with the M136 rocket launcher. Lucas, Lynn, and Jafar open up on the stopped up middle. Rules of engagement are as follows for us rogues. If these guys are delivering food, and aren’t dressed in camouflage gear, we’ll let them pass as the dawn patrol. If they’re wearin’ camo, we hit them.”

  I heard acknowledgement from all. We set up our trap without further discussion, leaving Tonto and Laredo to watch our prisoners. Then it was wait time. About forty-five minutes later the lead truck came in sight. They were wearing uniforms. Casey took out the cab of the lead truck, causing a flip to its side. I then blew up the last truck in the convoy, demolishing the cab and front engine section. Lucas, Lynn, and Jafar fired short bursts into the trucks in the middle, until guys were screaming out to surrender.

  With Tonto called to action, we had the transporters herded into a hands clasped behind the head circle in no time, while Clint, Casey, and I inspected the shipments. Imagine our surprise when we found they were hauling an entire lab out to the estate. It had everything, including the chemicals for creating meth and anything else they wanted. It was state of the art. In the back of one truck we struck pay dirt. It was like a mobile mansion with bar, kitchen, hot tub, etc. I called Clint and Casey over to check it out. I’d never seen anything like it. While we were exploring in awe of the plumbing and gadgets, we heard a scuffling sound under the bar in back. Clint hauled out this guy dressed in a tuxedo. A woman huddled underneath with him straightened. She was about five feet, eight inches tall, auburn hair, slender, with an off the shoulder black evening gown on.

  “Must be a party, DL,” Casey said. “Who might you be partner?”

  The guy straightened, brushing off his tux. He was a little taller than the woman, but carrying about thirty pounds too much with sparse brown hair combed over. “I am Alexander Torre. I am Terrance Brannigan’s executive assistant. What is the meaning of this?”

  “Do not fool with these men,” the woman hissed at him without taking her eyes off of us.

  “We need to move,” Clint said. “You two get dressed in foul weather gear, and put on some shoes you can walk in.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you men!” Alexander stated, but his companion immediately began donning a coat and digging out other shoes from a bag as Clint watched her.”

  I moved over and grabbed Torre by the neck. “Here’s the way it goes, Alexander. You get your foul weather gear on, or I start breaking things on your body. Want a demo?”

  Alexander’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He indicated with headshakes and gestures he was ready to comply, so I let him loose. He got his gear on under my watchful eye, while Casey grabbed up the computer gear in the mobile barroom.

  “Let’s back the hell out and I’ll hit the trucks with the launcher.”

  We joined our group with the new prisoners. They had the surrender group on their knees with hands behind their heads. Lucas met me on approach. “I hate to say this, but we have a decision, we either waste these guys or screw ourselves.”

  “I’m blowing the floating lab convoy. We’ll plastic tie these guys hands behind their backs and send them toward the compound after we call for pickup. I’m not going pussy on you Lucas. I don’t see them causing us problems if we get the hell out of here quickly enough.”

  Lucas smiled. “It’s all good, John. We’re on a roll. No use descending into darkness any more than we already have. I’ll get them cinched up, and tell Jafar to call for pickup.”

  After Lucas had the men bound for walking, I blew the convoy up with the M136. That display got some instant respect. They all knew they could have been in the blast zone. I faced the group and gave them their directions in Spanish when Jafar told me pick up was ten minutes out.

  “You will not be set free of the ties on your hands. Start walking toward the compound. You can find something to free yourselves there and wait out the storm. Get moving now. Don’t stop. Don’t look around.”

  They didn’t need much prompting. Our captures headed for the compound without a backward glance. We rounded up our transfers. Brannigan’s sister was coming around pretty well, and she was not happy. She had regained her feet, soaked to the skin in spite of the rain parka I had put on her. The way she danced around in place
with her hands secured behind her back was a little amusing as we waited.

  “Let me go right now, and I don’t have you bunch tortured and killed!”

  Oh my, she gave us a laugh with that one. I saw Lynn taking an instant liking to her. She loved the ones who were so far out of touch with reality, they could issue threats like that. To her credit, Lynn didn’t play or assume anything. She looked at me first. I had no objections to a small attitude adjustment. I nodded at her with a smile. Lynn worked her over without a word – nothing but well struck body shots, following the screaming Maria Brannigan to the ground. When Maria began crying and begging for mercy, Lynn held up. She gripped Maria’s chin in a no nonsense shaking grip.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t give a damn what you think. You’re my bitch now, girlfriend! I’ll let you know when I want you to speak. Until I tell you or ask you something, you keep your fuckin’ mouth shut! Comprende?”

  “Yes! Yes… don’t beat me!”

  Lynn laughed her serial killer laugh. She patted Maria’s cheek. “Oh baby, you think that was bad? I’ll show you bad. Cross me or my friends again, and I’m going to show you more about pain than you ever dreamed of.” Lynn released her and stood up. She kicked Maria in the side. “You have five seconds to pop the fuck up on your feet or I start in on you again with fervor. You getting any of this, honey?”

  Maria’s head bobbed up and down as Lynn released her chin, eyes blinking in wide open terror. “I…I understand! Don’t hit me!”

  Lynn waited in silence, and she was counting. Maria made it to her feet inside the five second range. Lynn sighed with emphasis. “I was hoping you wouldn’t make it. Okay… stay still and keep your mouth shut.”

  Maria didn’t even respond verbally. She gestured with her hand in a dismissive motion. “Don’t…don’t hit me again.”

  Lynn patted her wet cheek. “Be a good girl and choose your words and actions wisely, or you get to see what’s behind door number two. I’ll give you a hint: it’s not a Toyota.”

  The chopper ghosted in five minutes later. We loaded everything up. The thunder and lightning extravaganza had tailed off, but the rain pelted down non-stop. The pilot saw Laredo get boosted up and came back to grab his shoulder.

  “Well, Damn! Laredo Sawyer as I live and breathe. I didn’t have any idea you were the package they were picking up tonight.”

  The two men embraced. Laredo broke away and thumbed at his old pal. “This guy’s Dutch Larkin. If I’d known he was flying us back, I would have insisted on walking. I guess they let anybody pilot one of these high tech masterpieces.”

  We hadn’t seen Larkin when he flew us over. Six feet tall, slender to the point of emaciation, black, and possibly Laredo’s age. We gave him a wave from where we had squatted for the trip back after securing our gear and prisoners. Larkin yanked on Laredo’s arm.

  “C’mon up front with me. We couldn’t afford more than one pilot in the know on this op, so I have an open co-pilot’s seat, brother.”

  “Oh yeah!” Laredo followed Larkin, but turned suddenly to face us with a big shit eating grin. “Buckle up children. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  Lynn popped up immediately, pointing with a warning finger at Laredo. “You make me barf, I make you bleed, cowboy!”

  “Damn it, Lynn!” Laredo shook a fist at Montoya and continued into the cockpit. “Fuckin’ pussy serial killers!”

  Yeah, us crazies were laughing at that exchange, but our guests were understandably less amused. It was a ride in the blackness like no other to the Vinson flight deck. I didn’t bother staring out a window. I knew only pitch black darkness and solid sheets of rain pounding the exterior would be all I’d see. I found a position for the first time since we left the Vinson that my chest didn’t ache. It would not get easier. We had to load up the C2 with gear, plunder, and prisoners. Weather or no weather, we were flying off the Vinson into San Diego, and from there home to work this Brannigan opening as quickly as possible. Jafar is reading me. The kid cinches in next to me.

  “You are concerned about moving quickly on this Brannigan, John. I see it on your face.”

  “You’re getting annoying, kid. I had getting Laredo back as my soul purpose on this jaunt, but damn, we hit pay dirt. I’m getting ambitious.”

  Jafar smiled, nodding agreeably. “Yes, I see it all coming together in your head without you speaking. Lynn has assumed ownership of Ms. Brannigan. The monster can surely get Maria to speak on a person to person call for a few minutes. I will triangulate that bastard’s position, and you will get him.”

  I did a double take at my young protégé. “Shit, that’s exactly what we need to play this next round. Brannigan will be thinking to get a call from the compound area though.”

  “I will make sure that is where he thinks he is getting the call from.”

  I thought this kid needed seasoning, but I was wrong. “You forget all about the military, kid. You have game. This mission showed me more than an opening into Brannigan’s demise, and Laredo’s rescue. If we get Laredo to hang with us on the West Coast Avengers, you and he can take everything we do to the next level.”

  “Samira is pregnant. I am very happy to know you do not still wish for me to join the military. I would be proud to do so, but we already go on missions vital for our country.”

  “Yep. You doing a four year term in the Marines would look good on your resume, but putting Brannigan in our sights immediately illustrates how much we need you with us. It’s not that someone else wouldn’t have thought of it. It’s that we already have a team, and you’re part of it. Congratulations on your starting a family. These are scary times, but we’ll do everything in our power to make them less scary.”

  Jafar nodded in grim faced acceptance of what he and Samira would face. “I know this job is not a safe occupation, DL. Samira refuses even my most subtle hints to step back from the speaking engagements she knows provoke the most hideous followers of Islam. I know that at least in the Marine Corps, personal retribution would be non-existent. Samira is adamant about her goal to uplift women’s rights in Islam, and she will never back away. It is why I love her. She does not whine or nag me about my involvement with you. We are a good match, John.”

  No doubt about that. “I can’t play favorites or give you special dispensation, but we’ll work it out. We’ll put your plan into effect the moment we touch down in Oakland. I want to be on home ground when we trace this sucker.”

  “I am glad we have Lynn and Clint with us. They are the missing link of scary.”

  Boy, is that ever true. “We only need to keep in mind our exposure. I know you can hack in and annihilate threads we don’t want out there in public, but we have a presence that is gaining ground everywhere. You’re our transition piece between our public and private face. I know that ain’t easy, kid. You have talent. I didn’t set you on this very dangerous path because I had other choices. You’ve stepped up to our problems without missing a beat. You handle combat just fine. The sky’s the limit, but I would be remiss in pointing out as your older brother by another mother that this shit will get intense. Until now, I had no one to worry about or watch over. Suddenly, in the past year I have a wife, stepdaughter, and your family unit. I ain’t whinin’ about it, but I do know the unintended circumstances very well. Do you?”

  “I do, John. I accept that the blame as you have taught me lies in the mirror each morning we survive to see our reflection.”

  I gripped his shoulder. “Yeah, little brother, it is just so.”

  “We have to get Brannigan, or he will surely get all of us and everything we love.”

  “Indeed, little brother… indeed.”

  Chapter Six: Brannigan

  Lynn and Clint were on my ass the moment we touched down on the carrier, and started transferring our equipment to the C2.

  “Hey, what’s up with the kissy face moment with Jafar, Dark Lord?” Lynn didn’t waste any time getting down to business. “My ears were buzzing. W
hat are you and your little twerp plotting?”

  Clint was the amusing part of this interrogation as he tried to indicate some restraint on his partner’s attack without success. “Lynn! Calm the hell down. Yeah, you were part of our discussion. Jafar let me know how fast he could triangulate Brannigan’s ass if you can get your Maria Bo-Peep to make a call for a few minutes.”

  Lynn’s face drained into acceptance of what she had imagined as a slight, was an actual compliment to her skills. “I get it. Sorry, DL. I’m a little on edge. That was my first time in any kind of combat. It rocks! Instead of taking out my inner monster on shithead predators, I should have joined the service.”

  “But then you wouldn’t have met me,” Clint took the bait like a big guppy.

  Lynn cast the perfect look of distain upon him. “Yeah? So what. Oh, you think my happiness was keyed to your bludgeoning your way into my life, huh? I don’t think so. It probably set me back in my ambitions.”

  “Keep talkin’ Cleaner,” Clint said, walking away. “Cancel the murderous honeymoon voyage, DL.”

  “Uh oh.” Lynn ran and jumped aboard the Clint Dostiene back express. He resisted the pest’s attentions for a moment, but the pest had some form of anesthetic stinger which she subdued the Dostiene inner beast with.

  The couple did elicit laughs from our group and many of the ship’s crew readying our C2 flight off the Vinson. The rain had subsided somewhat, which made our launch off the carrier deck aboard the C2 less harrowing. I didn’t much mind, because Laredo co-piloted next to his friend, Dutch once again. We hooded our prisoners before our next landing. Denny had another military transport waiting for us in San Diego. It took only a short time to transfer gear and people once again. We flew into San Francisco Coast Guard Air Station just before noon. We slept fitfully where possible on our flights as all of us were aware we had to hit Brannigan next. Denny met us with our drivers, Jess and Dev. Next stop was pain central.