I picked Dhamo back up, smashed him face first into his own spit, and then swiped up the residue with his face. I had to use his body for a mop as a final clean up, but his buddies got the message. We could play a while longer if they wanted. After reseating Dhamo, I grabbed his chin as blood, sweat, and tears trickled over his face.
“You have anything else to say? One more word and we put you on the towline anyway, so just speak or shake your head no.”
Dhamo shook his head no, clamping lips and teeth tightly together, looking down at his feet. The rest were seated quietly. It was a beautiful night. The boat rocked gently. The three quarter moon looked awesome, and the stars were spectacular. Clint administered their guide potion into hell. We didn’t stretch it out. We were anchored far enough away from the coast, it would take a long time for the bodies to miraculously make it to shore anyway, but we took precautions. Clint and I stripped them, and cut them open before tossing them into the ocean. We stayed where we were until the bodies gathered a finned audience before leaving.
The three of us once again took up our positions on the fly deck that night. I was happy, because we’d been too busy with the prisoner handling for Tommy to get through for training directions. Tomorrow would be hell in the water, but today was a day without torture for me or the bad guys, and only one slight attitude adjustment at the end. I told Clint and Lynn about how many fingers in the pie Brannigan actually had, including the Harvard serial killers.
“It’s a shame we weren’t able to take Brannigan on a sea cruise,” Lynn said. “Why is it Denny’s having us continue to LA? With all the locations zeroed in he could turn the operation over to the locals and FBI.”
“He doesn’t want the treasure trove of info those clowns probably have all over the place getting trampled on and lost,” Clint answered. “We have to get into port tomorrow too. I’ve been monitoring messages and texts our deceased Albanians have coming in. I passed the codes over to Jafar, so he’s taken over the receiving end on all of them. I’m sure Denny saw what I saw. There’s another bigwig in the mix, probably the guy running the operation down there. Jafar was on to him before we even started on these guys this morning, so I didn’t mention or ask. I let them ramble. They named everyone but that guy.”
We had a conference call before the interrogation with Denny while Lynn was still sleeping. The Spawn was on top of every angle as usual. “Denny wants this Ardian Shala brought in hard, and without any official witnesses. Jafar found his residence, so he’s first on the hit parade. Maybe we’ll take him with us when we sail The Lora back to its new home port.”
“You’re taking the first hit when we go after Shala, right DL?”
“No, Cruella, I was thinking we’d lead with your butt this time covered by Kevlar. It’s a much bigger target.”
Clint couldn’t save me. He was rolling on the deck, incoherent for the moment while Lynn launched. She couldn’t get near me, and I didn’t spill a drop of my Beam. I knew I could miss a training day.
Chapter Fifteen: No Mercy
“Tell Tommy I’m getting the hell out of the water! There’re sharks!”
I had been in the damn ocean for nearly forty-five minutes, changing strokes as Tommy ordered with Lynn as the relay torturer. I could tell she was still thinking about the butt comment from the previous evening.
Clint was on deck with the sniper rifle. “Man up, DL. I’ll get them before they get you.”
“Sharks attack from below, you pelican!” I saved my breath. I know my lips were turning blue. I’m starting to think Tommy wants me to swim all the way into port. Clint’s laughing at my ‘Crocodile Dundee’ name calling.
“Okay, Sissy, you can come out of the water,” Lynn says.
I drifted back toward the fantail, and hopped on board over the shallow fantail. My teeth were chattering. Good Lord was that water cold. Clint threw me a thick robe from the clothing we’d found on board. I hit the showers instead of trading one-liners with my jovial pirate companions. They had enjoyed my training way too much. I could tell Tommy had been studying strokes. I always figured Tommy swam very well. His knowledge of varying strokes proved it to me. I taught his kids how to swim like fish, because of my expert status. Tommy mixed in the right strokes for strength and endurance. When he had me switch to the butterfly stroke; that was a killer, especially the length of time he had me do it.
I walked up on the bridge where Clint was driving. Lynn was right next to him getting a lesson on the controls, gauges, and navigation. “Did Denny pick us out a dock?”
“Yep,” Clint answered. “He wants us to come in hot at Dhamo’s normal docking point.”
“No shit?” That adds a degree of difficulty to our porting in LA. “He does realize there may be people around expecting to see the Albanian Sopranos, right?”
“He has Casey and Lucas scanning the docking area with great vision all around that we’re coming in on. Denny suggested a rather neat approach if we get a greeting party, which seems likely since the big boss has been trying to unsuccessfully reach the Albanians. Denny thinks Lynn and I should walk nonchalantly off the boat. When confronted, we tell them we bought it from Dhamo.”
I sat down. Maybe the long training session had dulled my wits. “What in the hell would that ploy accomplish?”
“Denny thinks that Shala will meet the boat,” Lynn announced, giggling at my open mouthed reception of that piece of info.
“Oh… my… God… our ship is porting in more ways than one.” My mind’s racing now. No assaults on well-guarded villas coupled with an opportunity to cast off right back out to sea with the kingpin. “Good Lord, could that possibly happen?”
“We’re attacking, DL,” Lynn replied. “When we attack good things happen. It makes sense Shala doesn’t have a clue what happened between Dhamo and Maria. He knows communication at sea unless he wants to get onto a regular channel would be risky. In other words, Shala doesn’t suspect anything, John. Dhamo normally docks at the Esprit in the Marina Del Rey boat docks.”
“If he arrived standing at the dock awaiting our arrival we could do pretty much anything we wanted, including Lucas and Casey taking him before we even pulled into port. We’ll have to dock, stay incognito for a while, and then wait for Mr. Big to make his angry appearance,” Clint added. “If he doesn’t know what the hell is going on, he will be pissed. You can bet he’s tracking our GPS signature, thinking he’s being dissed.”
“How far are we away?” This was so good.
“We’re about half an hour out,” Clint replied.
“Well, okay then.” This puts all of this in a different happy perspective. “If we can get Mr. Big, it means Lynn can make him her bitch, which means we can visit all his holdings with him fronting us. Man, that would be much easier than attacking each one of these holes. Now, let’s talk safety. We want as few people in front as possible. I can cover you with the sniper rifle during the meet up to give Case enough time to get into place too.”
“Clint and I can take down these assholes by ourselves unless he brings a small army,” Lynn said. “The first one that talks after we give them our cover bullshit gets put down hard. We can adlib from there.”
Clint shook his head. “John’s right, Prego. We need to do this in a careful manner with backup.”
“I don’t think I like pet names about my condition, especially when they sound like you’re calling me a spaghetti sauce. Okay, careful will be how we do it. We don’t want to wait until these mutts start drawing guns. Then we’ll end up without any prisoners.”
“So, you’d rather get this Shala, and have him escort us around to his holdings, John? If there are multiple sightings of him in our hands before he goes skinny dipping, there might be complications.”
“I see what you mean, Clint.” I paused, trying to think like Denny, gave up, and called him. “We’re almost in port. I thought it might be good if we had Shala out front letting us into the bad places. Clint pointed out it will make for more sightings with him in our
hands. I have to defer to the master on this.”
“No chances on that asshole,” Denny answered. “Take him at the dock for a day cruise. Take his buddies with you, dead or alive. They’ve uncovered seventeen corpses. Jafar in tandem with Laredo has hacked his mainframe, so I’m not as concerned about missing data. Shala has only one holding area for his kidnapped girls. We have it zeroed in. If things go right on the dock, I’ll give over everything but the girls to the FBI and locals to hit. We’ll take his holding pen. Everyone in there dies - no deals, and no mercy. I’ll work with some contacts to shelter and nurse the girls until we can return them home or help them get back to their lives. Laredo confiscated enough money to repair everything but their minds. I’m sure Shala will add to the pot.”
I looked at the grim faces of my cohorts, and figured Denny was right about that. “We’ll call with updates, Denny.”
“We don’t know when Shala will be in, or how he’s coming, so Case and Lucas will be on line with you at all times. I’m sure we can give you at least a ten minute heads-up on his arrival. We’d take him before he gets to you, but it will be a much cleaner snatch if the three of you can take them aboard, and then disappear.”
“Ten minutes would be fine.”
After Denny disconnected, Lynn smile at me. “Does this mean an extra ocean training session? I figure you can go swimming just before Shala does, and warm up the sharks for him.”
“Tommy won’t know we’re not in the middle of the mission.” It was lame, but I had to try.
“He’ll know,” Clint replied.
“Damn it! You two can be really hurtful.”
* * *
“Did you really call Tommy?”
Clint laughed. He and Lynn were cleaning the railings and fantail, dressed casually in jeans and pullover shirts, although Lynn’s were jean short-shorts. Casey had called in Shala’s arrival a few minutes before. They were playing the parts of new boat owners. “No. He called me, but it was funnier letting John think I actively ratted him out. Did you see his face when I handed him the workout Tommy outlined to me?”
“He was one unhappy Dark Lord. I would never have gotten into that water. Those damn sharks looked like they were measuring him for a snack. Tommy had him going for a hell of a long time.” Lynn stopped wiping the railing. “I don’t want a damn boat if I have to wipe it down constantly.”
“Jesus, Lynn, you’ve only been wiping it for about three minutes. You do know that babies take a lot of upkeep. There’s tons of laundry, changing diapers, a few baths a day, bottles to wash, and you have to do it all on nearly no sleep.”
“I thought once the Mom pops the kid out, the rest is up to Dad.”
Clint moved over to run a hand up the back of Lynn’s thigh as she leaned against the railing, letting it come to rest on her hip. “I’ll be there for you… right behind you.”
Lynn giggled as Clint demonstrated the movements he planned to be right behind her with. “You’re not very well informed, cowboy. There is no sex after the kid arrives. Check your manual.”
“I’ll check your manual.” Clint enveloped Lynn with both hands working inappropriate endeavors in front.
“Hey, you two!”
Clint slipped off to the side of Lynn as he turned to face their new visitors on the dock. The one out front of the other two was Ardian Shala, a little under six feet tall, thick brown hair, clean shaven ruddy complexion, and stocky of build. The two men with him were both over six feet, heavyset, with buzz cut black hair, and mustaches. All three wore suits as if they had come over from a business meeting, complete with ties and shined shoes. Clint gave them a little wave.
“Hi guys.”
Lynn turned, leaning provocatively against the railing. The three men switched their attention to Lynn with more than passing curiosity. “You guys are sure all dressed up for the docks. Is something wrong?”
“Yes. We would like to know where the owner of this boat is,” Shala stated. “Is he on board?”
“Oh… you mean Mr. Dhamo? He sold the boat to us at the Berkeley Marina. He told us about the berth it had here at Espirit. We decided to take her out for a spin to LA. It was a gorgeous trip along the coast.”
Ardian Shala’s mouth gaped open for a moment. “That… is impossible. He could not have sold you The Tirana!”
Clint looked at Lynn in surprise, before returning his attention to Shala. “We have the papers and title, Sir. Come aboard. I have them on the bridge.”
“Very well, but it was not his boat to sell. He could not have done such a thing. Lead the way. I would look at these papers of yours.”
* * *
I put away the sniper rifle, and picked up my MAC 10. The moment our guests were aboard, I slid down behind them from the fly deck. I made enough noise to invite a quick turnaround. Clint and Lynn moved in opposite directions for their weapons, leaving the firing range and arming themselves. Shala and his men went for their weapons until noticing they were staring at the MAC 10. They raised their hands. Truthfully, they should have drawn on me. This meet up would not be going well for them.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Shala was of course outraged. He turned to look over his shoulder in the direction of where he had last seen Clint and Lynn. Clint was off to Shala’s right holding another MAC 10 on them diagonally with Lynn covering them from the opposite side. “Do you know who I am?”
Lynn giggled. “I can’t believe he pulled the ‘do you know who I am card’. Hardly anyone does that anymore. Yeah Ardian, we know who you are. You’re all under arrest. Get on your knees, hands clasped behind your heads!”
They didn’t move fast enough, so Lynn zapped the one nearest her with her stun-gun. Our models are like cattle prods, only stronger. The guy hit the deck in a writhing ball of anguish.
“That was your last warning. Get on your knees or I put you on your backs!”
Shala and his still standing minion dipped onto their knees with hands clasped behind heads. “You three will pay for this outrage in blood! I am Ardian Shala. I can have you and everyone you love dead inside of twenty-four hours!”
“Gee, Dark Lord,” Clint said. “I think he really means it. Whatever will we do?”
Lynn was already plastic tying the one she had stunned after stripping him out of his suit coat and tie. Clint did the other two quickly. We then helped them up and onto the plush seating together. I took pictures and sent them.
“I mean every word I say!” Shala hissed that line out between his clenched teeth, his face a new very strange shade of red – angry red, pissed off red, murderous red. “Let us go or die!”
“Holy cow,” Lynn said, standing in front of the men with her hands on hips. “I almost don’t know where to start. Clint, we should take a break and think about this while DL does his training session.”
“Oh, you are so funny, Cruella.” Not even a little bit. Clint thought it was funny though. Prick. Confirmation came a moment later on the pictures I had sent. Denny called.
“You have the right guys, John. The two with Shala are his long time enforcers, Rudi Dabulla and Filpa Kraja. That Shala showed up with those two meant he really planned on showing Dhamo how pissed off he was. It also means no one has a clue about Dhamo and his boys.”
“Thanks, Den. Get back to you shortly.”
“Well, Denny-light?”
“They’re the real deal. I’ll go steer us in the direction of the open sea. Let me know which one you want to skin first.”
“We’re under arrest!” One of Shala’s buddies, Kraja, is beginning to get a bad vibe about what was happening to them. “You must take us to jail, where we will be allowed to contact our lawyer.”
“Rats!” Lynn sighed. She walked over to run a finger over each one of their cringing faces. “He asked for a lawyer, guys. We’re cooked. Our hands are tied. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been running a slave ring, drugs, and illegal weapons center. Now we won’t be able to find out anything about the burial ground of innoc
ents they’ve been filling.”
“We know nothing about what you speak of,” Shala stated. He’s beginning to lose his outrage after hearing he and his men are going on an unasked for sea cruise. “This is a misunderstanding. Do not leave this docking area.”
“Did you hear that, DL? You can’t leave the dock.”
“Yeah, Cruella, I heard.” I started the engines while Clint cast off, and then steered The Tirana out to sea. I didn’t stop until we were about three miles out. The sea was a little choppy, but the sun was out – another beautiful day for a cruise. I found a nice spot. We had decided on dealing. Lynn didn’t want to mess up the boat, so she was going to do a quick slice and tow. Clint and I agreed. We figured it would only take one demonstration.
I went back with the group. “As you can see, we’re rule breakers. We have a deal for you, since none of you will be seeing land again. If-”
The howling started immediately. They yipped and yapped about rights, arrests, lawyers, and Shala even pulled out the Geneva Convention card on treatment of prisoners. It was a riot. Once we had gotten as much entertainment value possible from the doomed mass murderers, Lynn shut them up with our high tech cattle prod. I went on.
“If you tell us everything about everything, I’ll confirm it with our land force. If you all are truthful, we have a nice view and a hot shot for each one of you to take your final peaceful step into hell. The good part is it is very pleasant and painless. The bad part comes if you tell lies or refuse to be helpful. Then my associate, Cruella Deville, does what she does better than anyone.”
Lynn gave me a dirty look before making her knife whip around a few times in a terrific click-clacking exhibition of a master with the butterfly knife. “Watch this guys.”
Lynn lightly moved the blade tip up the guy’s shirt closest to her. The material separated as if it were tissue paper. “I name my knives. This is my skinner. I can take the outer layer of your epidermis off with this so the skin peels away in my hand like saran wrap. Let me show you. Clint, if you would be so kind.”
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 80
