Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

“I would indeed. I took an Uber over here.”

  In the den, we sat at my newly furnished bar. I served the Bud and Beam brothers for us both. We toasted and sipped before getting down to business. I explained my Assio-Warez problem; and my theory concerning released murderers and illegal aliens.

  “Your theory would work easily in sanctuary states and cities where coverups happen on a daily basis. Did you ever think any city in the United States could have nearly twenty-five hundred people shot in one year with nearly five-hundred deaths?”

  “Chicago. The media never covers the corrupt politicos there, sanctuary city status, and the toughest gun laws in the nation. Chicago illustrates my point too, Nick. They only solve fifteen percent of the homicides there. If a politician ever stood up for the people there with law and order, gun rights, massive deportations, and crackdowns on corruption in all sectors, the politician would face violence done to his friends and family. I believe many former tough talking politicians get the word anonymously to tone it down or start losing people.”

  “It makes sense. The only thing these Illuminati New World Order judges would need do is order the release of a killer on some technicality, assign a target, and provide escape. It would be especially easy using illegal aliens to commit rape and murder. They could disappear across the border, and when intimidation is needed, they could return to provide it. I think you may be on to something, John. We have only fake news networks with a leftist agenda, working directly for their NWO puppet-masters.”

  I could tell Nick understood. “Exactly. Without the truth in reporting that once existed, we have pinheads standing in lakes pretending to be covering floods, crisis actors donning blood and wailing about false flag events, and Sharia Law Mutants establishing no-go zones. It would not be a stretch to believe my intimidation theory may already be in effect, like the Cobus release, targeting me.”

  “I can understand why you didn’t want to discuss this stuff over the phone.”

  “I signed to fight at Barclays Center in Brooklyn at the end of next month. Cobus told me personally Assio-Warez instigated the Cobus release, using California’s current dullard Governor and Lieutenant Governor. She named the target: me. Flo got Gary Drowne recalled almost in complete secrecy with Red Dragon Security’s help. When Flo wins the governorship next week, Drowne will be out immediately, along with Lewsome.”

  Nick grinned. “So, they will be powerless anyway, but the bug-eyed Bolshevik will be on the rise in corrupt New York Illuminati leftist circles. You’re thinking I can swing a book-signing in New York, maybe sing the National Anthem at the fight, and quietly dispose of the looney-tune Marxist trying to have you killed.”

  “I would greatly appreciate your input on something like that,” I admitted. “It will be tough. You can bet Bug-eye will be newly elected to Congress. I wish we didn’t need to consider options for eliminating traitorous politicos, but with leftist NWO minions using illegal aliens, felons, the dead, and voter fraud to win political control, I don’t know what else we can do.”

  “You know my record and the old cliché concerning the Constitution not being a suicide pact. If the laws of the land become so corrupted, American citizens can no longer get justice, vigilantism will spread. We’ve learned Illuminati NWO societies have been dumping us into false flag wars, depressions, and elitist population control. We’re building the militia and start training by the first of the year. Creating alternatives to surrendering our nation makes a lot more sense than duck and cover tactics, hoping One World Order loons will leave us alone.”

  “Any thoughts on Assio-Warez?”

  Nick didn’t hesitate. “Let me get a New York City string of book-signings in the works. I could arrive a couple weeks ahead of you to look over the situation, make a plan, and possibly carry it out before you arrive for the fight. If I see it may have complications, I could remain after you go back home, but send my family back with you. I would go to ground and stay hidden until an opportunity arises.”

  “Thanks, Nick. I appreciate you doing this. I may join you early.”

  “The bug-eyed Bolshevik makes the proverbial bag of rocks look intelligent. Nothing that spews out of her pie-hole makes any sense unless we want to become Venezuela. I’m warming to this task by the second.”

  We had to toast that one. “Are you still taking contracts?”

  “Yeah, I agreed to one last year that only recently became doable. It took that long to locate the target returning to this country. I plan on completing the sanction right after Halloween. It’s related in some ways to what we’ve been discussing. A migrant from Ghana, working as an Uber driver, escaped arrest with help I’m sure. He raped and murdered a twenty-year old woman and fled the country to Ghana. I told the father of the girl I could not go to Ghana, but I would make sure if he ever returns here, I would get him. Dhamfo left the victim’s body in the trunk of his rented Uber car, which helped the police identify him.”

  Nick gulped down some beer and continued. “Using every alteration of his real name, Rederick Dhamfo, in flights from the East Coast going back to the time of the murder, I kept searching. It took longer than I thought because of more possibilities than I expected. I missed a few the first time through too which didn’t help. During my reinvestigation after eliminating suspects, Sedrick Samro popped up. He resides in Sonoma County. Dhamfo reentered the country months ago, even before we did the Boston job. He’s an Uber driver in Sonoma just as he was in Boston, with a new identity, he could have only acquired by way of government authorities. Although he now has a beard, facial recognition software puts it at over ninety percent he’s my man.”

  I grinned at Nick. “Somehow… I know there is more to this story.”

  “The woman he raped and killed in Boston as an Uber driver was the daughter of a rare conservative. He won an election to Congress as an American Nationalist, pledged to get us out of the UN, and end all foreign aid except to countries like Israel, Hungary, and other real allies who refuse to take the murderous migrants from the Middle East. He was warned anonymously to change, or he would suffer. Morgan Carrigan fought in the first Gulf War. When his daughter was raped and murdered, he wanted justice.”

  Nick was now actively pissing me off at the similarities to what I theorized. “I see where you’re going with this. Carrigan received some form of note to back the hell off, right?”

  “Morgan hired guys from his Ranger squad to guard his surviving wife, daughter, and son. He then contracted me and wanted justice at any cost. I plan on giving it to him… and learning where the food chain from Dhamfo leads.”

  Oh yeah. “Because doin’ right ain’t got no end, right brother?”

  “Absolutely… when I collect Dhamfo, I will make a video for Morgan not to be shared by anyone. Mr. Dhamfo will experience death in a way uncivilized and excruciating. In heaven, where Morgan’s daughter resides, angels will hide their faces, but she will guiltily watch with her heart pounding in joy.”

  “I look forward to what you learn from the soon to be schooled, Mr. Dhamfo.”

  “I may definitely gain insight into our New York trip. This may confirm what you have already theorized, John.”

  “If it does, I plan to expose every incidence of it across the country. I know of Morgan. He has stuck to everything he promised, although he has been forced to fight New World Order assholes on both sides of the aisle.”

  “I’ve communicated with him. His wife, Jill, shoots expert and carries a 9mm Glock. Carrigan also trains his children, much like we train ours.” Nick finished his Beam brother and I poured him and I another. “I don’t want to ever know what it’s like to lose a kid, and I have no clue how many I would kill to make sure it never happens.”

  “Amen to that. Having Kade with me doesn’t change anything. It only reinforces everything.” We toasted again.

  “Jafar briefed us on Carl Logan. That man hates you, brother. His hate makes him dumber every time he comes into contact with you. Logan left behind guys to
murder you coming out of the Warehouse. That used to carry a death sentence in Monster-land.”

  “I admit it. Carl Logan may be too high profile for me to hit head on, but the entertainment value of causing his head to explode regularly makes up for it. If Carl ever starts something in public, I may snatch his heart, no matter how many verses, The Latin King, brother Devon Constantine recites.”

  “Dark Lord? Clint, Lynn, Clint Jr, and Tonto arrived a minute ago. I’m buzzing them all through as we speak,” Lora relayed to us on our intercom.

  “Great news. We’ll be here at the bar. Send Lynn and Clint first so we can conduct a bit more business. I’m sure it will be fun for Clint Jr and Kade to meet.”

  “Isn’t that like having the cosmos out of whack? I will do your bidding… and send a large tray of munchies with them.”

  “That would be for the best, Lora, without snarky comments.”

  “Yes, Dark Lord!” Lora said in unrepentant form.

  “I see Lora bows to the Dark Lord’s wishes in the same manner Rachel embraces Muerto’s.”

  “Don’t start talking in third person, Muerto. It is what it is, my friend. When cartoons and monsters exist in reality, righting wrongs and injustices, sometimes the family gets a little edgy. Your interaction with the ravishing Serena has been replayed in Monster-land many times. I can only imagine how it played in Muerto’s house.”

  Nick shrugged. “It’s best left to the imagination, brother. The interaction was unscripted, disturbing, entertaining and unfulfilled by the chaste and moral Muerto. No vow was ever betrayed by the ever faithful, Muerto.”

  “You’re… ah… still talking in third person.”

  Clint and Lynn joined us with a tray of finger-food delights. It was a happy reunion, complete with various tales of ventures since our last meeting. We also discussed my theory on prisoner release and the contract Nick took which could be related. I could tell the Serena interplay captured Lynn’s imagination. She admitted to seeing it already many times.

  “God… Muerto… that was so hot… and sadly, in imagination of course, so ultimately ended with barely a look back at the finish of the last heartfelt song.”

  Nick hesitated, but enthralled us with the final episode, after gathering our word never to repeat it. His description of Serena’s last attempt at seduction entertained to the max. “Of course, you three would enjoy this Muerto doomed romantic interlude… but it was not very nice in person.”

  “Rachel would understand and laugh at the last Serena gambit, brother,” Clint said, eliciting a dark look of complete bewilderment from Lynn.

  “Are you mental?! Muerto knows better than to put that last interlude into Rachel’s head. You did the right thing, Nick. Some events do not need to be shared. That was one of them. The possibility of an up and coming idiot Illuminati in New York being able to instigate a killer Cobus release may indeed be a preview of things to come. The fact an airhead like Smiley Pyrus tried to have John’s family terrorized just to impress her puppet masters means John has become a nationwide target.”

  “You are the most public face amongst us, John,” Clint said. “We had to emerge into the open more over the last few years. The Illuminati hierarchy know you lead us. Because of your UFC popularity, added to leadership of a quick strike unit with authority to use deadly force, there may be an undercurrent of sentiment to instigate these hits against you. After the damage we’ve done to them when confronted directly, the hierarchy stays in the shadows, keeping clear of direct involvement.”

  “After we learned more about the Illuminati secret societies and all the puzzle pieces started falling into place, exactly as written in the 1954 Bilderberg Group document, it was too late for me to pull out of public view,” I admitted. “With Nick’s US Marshal’s Special Operations Unit, we’ve made a difference, but you’re right, it’s beginning to come with a price.”

  “Can’t go back now,” Nick stated. “Think of the major terrorist operations we had no choice but to confront head on in public. Lately… we’ve stopped even the New World Order global leaders and beat them back into their holes. This latest tactic of theirs will need to be hit with a hammer. I’ll begin the process with their latest tool, Rederick Dhamfo, before he carries out another hit on someone.”

  “I’m wondering if he already has a target assigned.”

  “That makes two of us, John,” Nick replied.

  * * *

  We took all the kids capable of going trick-or-treating into Clint and Lynn’s neighborhood. I admit we kept a perimeter guard around all the kids, making sure any approaching vehicle got everyone’s attention until it passed. Such is life when making enemies as powerful as the ones we seemed to be accumulating daily. We didn’t bunch into an easy target. Jean, Sonny, Jay and Al escorted the little ones with parents recording all the high points. The people in the houses all made appreciative comments on the four older kids’ leather jacketed look.

  After less than an hour, the younger toddlers made it plain they were done. The older kids wanted to network on Nick’s new project, keeping tabs on all Dhamfo’s movements. The adults went with them to Nick’s East Bay house where he decorated for Halloween and would be entertaining. Kade wanted to keep going. He strutted around in his new Batman costume with pure joy. I stayed with him. We had a blast until I spotted a slow moving, black SUV moving down the street toward us.

  Quite a few trick-or-treaters still stalked along the street, making appropriate noises for their costumes. It slowed next to me. When I saw who it was, I moved Kade behind me and readied myself to draw… and I don’t mean a picture. Carl Logan rolled down his window in the back seat. Only two bodyguards, one driving, and one seated next to Carl, were in the car. They kept their hands in plain sight, lucky for them.

  “How dare you assault my men! They are all in the hospital!”

  “It’s lucky you chose to be somewhere else after leaving your men to kill me; otherwise, you’d be in the morgue. I have my son with me. Go away now, or I do to you and your friends what I did to the men you left behind last night… or worse. How do you think all this will end for you, Carl?”

  “You had no right to hurt those men, pug!”

  I jetted forward and yanked the Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the world through the window halfway, shifting grips to a sure death, neck breaking position. The killer inside raged into the conflict with a cold promise of death. “Say you’re sorry, you lowlife piece of shit, and explain to your buddies what happens if I shift my hands and arms suddenly.”

  “Do…don’t do anything,” Carl screamed. “He…he’ll kill me! I…I’m sorry!”

  I released him, drawing my Colt and aiming it at Carl’s head. “Good decision. Make another. Get out of my sight and never approach me again!”

  “Drive!” Carl yelled, massaging his neck.

  Yeah… I may have reached the dangerous point on Carl. He had been so close to death, I could feel it even now with a small crowd of kids and parents gawking at me from a wide ring. I decided to do this confrontation for public consumption, because I knew a bunch of phones streamed the encounter to the internet. I holstered my Colt and produced my FBI credentials.

  “Sorry about that folks, but I have my son with me, and I am not on good terms with the man in the car.” I showed the crowd my ID while gripping Kade’s hand.

  “That was Carl Logan! He’s the Heavyweight Boxing Champ!” Someone called out.

  “Yes, he is, but we don’t get along. Carl doesn’t like the fact I beat him twice in the cage. He wants to fight me in the boxing ring… but I’m not a boxer. Carl wanted to take my UFC Heavyweight Championship belt off me and failed… twice. It bothers the hell out of him and he can’t let go. I’m happy with him having his belt. I don’t want it.”

  One of the dads stepped forward. “Is it okay if we get some pictures with you and your son? He looks great in the Batman costume.”

  As life sometimes dictates, humanity enjoys a post traumatic stress incident
, and you either jump on board the train… or whistle Dixie. Kade and I had a wonderful time posing in every scenario you can imagine: child vampires and werewolves ripping me apart, and zombies pretending to eat my brain. We did it all with captions like UFC Heavyweight champ gets ripped on Halloween. Kade loved every minute of it. Finally proceeding on our way, Kade asked me the ultimate question.

  “Were you going to kill, Carl, Dad?”

  I never planned on having a son, so leveling with a nearly four-year-old with the truth had never crossed my mind. Seeing the Intensity of features on his face, I decided he needed to know his real father. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but it would sure be less abhorrent than Kade learning later in life that I’d lied to him.

  “Yes… if he did not agree to leave us alone, I planned to kill him and his two friends. You’re very young, Kade. I know you don’t understand some of the basics in entering life with me, Lora and Al. I hope what I need to do in justice and law enforcement will become clear to you.”

  Batman clutched my hand in both his. “I’m never scared now, Dad. I was always scared before. Mom Julie and I hid many times, sometimes under a hatch in the floor. I can be real quiet, Dad. If we get into trouble… I can be really quiet.”

  Oh… good God in heaven… I knew immediately I needed to step up my game in all aspects of life. “I understood what you have gone through… to some extent… but that will not happen with me. When they come for us, son, we won’t be quiet, and no one will make that a lie as long as I’m alive, and I ain’t easy to kill.”

  “I…I see that, Dad. You… you ride Captain Hook!”

  I hugged the little bugger. Like Nick said earlier, I never doubted the number of people I would kill to keep my family and friends safe. “Don’t fear things, kid. Fear is a useful tool… separating the runners from the standers. There will always be a time to run. Fear makes you run. Survival sense and purpose drives us if we allow our common sense to overcome fear and guide our reactions to danger. You will be one who no longer lets fear become a driving force in your life. I will show you the way, Kade.”