“These four guys can handle that pussy, Salvatore,” Barren stated. “We’ll keep one outside on watch in case the security guard shows up. Cantor was right. We should have grabbed the wife and kid while Salvatore met with his guardian, for all the good it was going to do him. Five minutes with him and he’ll be begging to tell us everything.”
“Don’t get your Cherokee blood in an uproar, ‘Littlebull’,” Danders retorted. “We’re on site. Nothing can go wrong or we are in deep shit.”
“Listen, Crazy Benny.” Barren poked her finger in Danders’ chest. “Even God couldn’t get you reelected in your bankrupt state after the crap you and your wife pulled, you weasel! I agreed to this shit so we could get Tark out of harm’s way before this nobody, Salvatore, released Fuma’s files. The guy’s delusional, demanding five million. I wonder how he liked his thief buddy getting a .22 caliber bullet in the back of the head.”
“Speaking of Fuma, this whole debacle happened because of her carelessness. Tark then has to send two sitting Senators to gather what was lost with his hirelings to make certain the information never gets out.”
“Fuma is protected through the Muslim Brotherhood, with contacts in Saudi Arabia and the Emirates,” Barren replied. “Besides, admit it. We’re here to make sure the two of us stay out of each other’s files. I don’t want you leaking shit to the press if I run against you in the future. You can’t be trusted. You have no honor.”
“Honor? Really? A tick on your sacred buffalo’s ass has more honor than you do, ‘Littlebull’. We’re here to do a job. Tark must be protected. He’s our last huge contributor able to fund our projects and get the people bused or flown where we need them. Cafrey Rothstein and Michael Moronas disappeared. Even Tark doesn’t know what happened to them. There are rumors mercenaries snatched them on his island. I’ve heard they have a military governor there now, and the island treats medical emergencies, along with providing care for orphans.”
“Senators? We need to do the meeting or abort. Gordon and Fitz are missing in action,” Al told them. “What is your decision?”
Danders gestured at the surrounding luxurious living room. “Tark let us use his estate here in Monterey. We flew in on his private jet. No one knows this place. We could wait this out. Salvatore will contact us again. You guys could track down Cantor and Burnington.”
“We were to get this done and fly back to DC by tonight, Sir,” Al said.
“Listen, Bolero.” Barren stood with pursed lips and hands on hips. “We’ve interrupted everything to come here. Call Mr. Ruban.”
“I can’t do that, Ma’am.” Al Bolero moved closer to the two Senators, speaking in a quieter tone. “Mr. Ruban ordered me not to contact him under any circumstances. My advice is we abort this.”
“Surely, the four of you could-”
Four men in US Marshal’s vests rushed into the room with MP5 submachine guns already pointing at targets.
* * *
Nick finished injecting Burnington with a lethal dose of his eternity shot. “You guys have been very helpful, G. It makes everything a bit easier since Ruban loaned the team and Senators his estate in Monterey. That Paseo Vista Place must be beautiful. With your keycard, my guys and I can surprise those idiot Senators. I have a little plan for their special demise.”
“I guess we couldn’t make a deal, huh Nick? I could testify against everybody.”
Nick gripped Cantor’s shoulder. “Sorry, G. No can do. It’s bad business at our level to leave pros alive we’ve crossed paths with in a bad way.”
“It was worth a try.” Cantor shut his eyes as the syringe needle expelled the death serum into his neck.
Nick straightened. “You were sure right about emptying out the freezer the moment we returned, Reaper. After this, we’ll need to make another fish food flight tomorrow.”
“What is the plan you mentioned to Cantor?”
“It depends on us being able to capture the killers alive for non-bloody disposal, Gus. We have forty minutes before the proposed meeting. I know the area Ruban’s estate is in. Cala drives. She can let us out near the estate. We’ll trek in quiet and see if we can take them by surprise. This is a gamble of sorts, but it will work perfectly in the scheme of things, especially at an estate owned by Ruban.”
“I called Ken,” Johnny said. “He had a little trouble with Phil at the hotel. Phil wanted to hang on to the laptop. Ken had to get physical with him.”
“Good. How did we do on damaging evidence?”
Johnny grinned. “Everything we hoped for. Will you be arresting the Senators for Tim and Grace to do a US Marshal transfer?”
“Nope. They’re going to kill each other,” Nick replied.
Jian stared at Nick uncomprehendingly. “They are?”
Gus took a deep breath. “You haven’t seen that Muerto scene yet, Dragon. I’m picturing it. Like Muerto says, we need to get their contract killers without a mess.”
“How do you make two Senators kill each other, Muerto? Do you hypnotize them?”
“You’ll see,” Nick told him. “It’s a very delicate process.”
“Oh brother,” Gus said.
“We need to leave for our appointment.” Nick headed for the stairs leading out of their underground torture center. “We don’t have time to freeze G and Fitz.”
Chapter Eight
Political Correction
Nick smiled at Gus as Cantor’s keycard opened the entrance door. “Follow me, boys.”
Inside, Nick heard voices yammering at each other in less than cordial tones. He stayed along the wall, moving toward the voices. At the entrance to the living room area, Nick strode through with Gus, Johnny, and Jian spreading out at his sides, MP5s at the ready.
“On the floor! Now! Make a move and we rake you with a 9mm hollow point burst!”
The four killers thought about reaching. In custody, the killers had no clue if they would be bound over for past crimes. Barren started sobbing. Danders peed his pants and dived for the floor, face down.
“Okay… go for it,” Nick said. “My burst hits across you guys at your balls level. My friends will aim high. Before you die, you’ll all know how it feels not to have a dick.”
“Fine. You’d best hope we don’t get free, Marshal,” Al told him. Al got face down on the floor, as did his companions.
“Lock your hands behind your heads.” Nick pointed at Barren as Jian began restraining the men while Johnny and Gus covered them. “Quit your crying and get face down on the floor, ‘Littlebull’. If you don’t do it, I’ll do it for you.”
Barren knelt carefully. “Who…who are you?”
“I’m US Marshal Nick McCarty. With me are Marshals Nason, Groves, and Chen. Face down, Senator. That’s it. Lock those fingers behind your liberal head.”
“I’ll have your badge for this, McCarty! Why does your name sound familiar?”
“I put one of your cohorts out of business: Diane Cameron. She sold out to the Sharia Law Mutants just like you and ‘Crazy Benny’. I busted her ass out of the Senate.”
“Yes! I know you now. You’re nothing but a prejudiced asshole!”
“Spoken like a true fraud, ‘Chief Littlebull’. I have more Cherokee blood in the heel of my shoe than you do in your entire line of miscreants, poser. Because we allowed the leftist, politically correct morons like you destroy the English language, a great word like prejudice disappeared from normal vocabulary and descriptive phrases. In past times, anyone of any race, creed, or color could be legitimately prejudiced against someone or something. For instance, I’m prejudiced against people without logical thinking capability and common sense - like you. I’m prejudiced against BLM/Antifa/La Raza goon squads. I’m prejudiced against liberal anarchist nitwits, striving to destroy the foundation of America – like you. I’m prejudiced against people incapable of hearing or reading a simple statement, without distorting the literal meaning, with whatever twisted morass of nonsense happens to be flowing in their own heads – li
ke you. From now on when someone accuses me of being prejudiced, I’ll just say ‘thank you’. They still won’t know what the meaning of the word is, but I will.”
Nick restrained Barren at ankles and wrists as she cried out in anguish at her harsh treatment. Nick patted her down professionally. “Calm down, ‘Littlebull’.”
“Cala is in the front with the Ford,” Johnny said. “Great speech, Muerto.”
Nick grinned at his friends chuckling appreciation of his expansive reaction to ‘Chief Little Bull’. Amusement for speeches to a dead person fit right in with their gig, as he restrained Danders in the same manner. “I know… I know… I get tired being lectured to by outright traitors, con-artists, and Sharia Law Mutant enablers. ‘Crazy Benny’ has good instincts. He knows to keep his mouth shut.”
“We’ll load our prisoners and give them something to relax their nerves,” Gus said. “Wait for us to come in and help with the scene. You keep an eye on the Senators in case they say something that triggers another lecture, El Muerto.”
“I’m done,” Nick admitted. “I’m either preaching to the choir or casting pearls before the swine… oh wait a minute… you Sharia Law enablers hate pork, huh Benny?”
Nick nudged the very uncomfortable Benny Danders with his foot.
It worked. “We’ll get you for this, McCarty! You can play all the angles, but you’re dead meat! Our lawyers will strip away your entire life, asshole!”
Nick bent down to pinch Benny’s cheek as his crew marched the killers out to their Ford. “Ah… alas… my poor ‘Crazy Benny’, none of what you hope or believe will happen. We have you two so completely, we can rig any ending we want for you.”
“What?! You can’t execute us! Are you insane?” Benny’s wild and wooly gray head arched to tell Nick how wrong he was. “We’re United States Senators, for God’s sake! Let us go free and we will make all of this right.”
“No… Benny boy… you won’t,” Nick said. “I do have a great ending to this scene. I’ll see how Senator Barren feels about this. I think she’s beginning to realize from her silence, the two of you are not walking out of here. See… the four thugs you had with you… they’re dead already and stuffed in the luggage compartment of my very big SUV. I need to make a scene with you two of epic proportions. This scene, you two will be part of, may define political activism into the next century for all other leftist assholes.”
Gus, Johnny, and Jian rejoined Nick. “Gus pointed at the tiny video cam attached to his vest. “Cala wanted a live remote shot of this so I’m staying back to give her a good recording.”
“That’s good. I’ll help set the scene and direct. Director Deville will be so jealous.” Nick helped the sobbing Barren to her feet and onto a lounge chair across from a large couch. “Relax here for a moment, ‘Littlebull’. Do you know any Cherokee death chants?”
In response, Barren cried harder. Johnny and Jian had already yanked Benny to his feet, avoiding the puddle from his accidental discharge. Nick directed them to place him on the couch across from Barren. He then did a gloved hands inspection of Barren’s large purse and Danders’ briefcase, humorously surprised at what he found, but also glad he would not need to give up two of his unmarked weapons. He held his discoveries so his friends could see.
“Look what we have here, guys. These anti-gun nuts both own heat which works out well for my scene.” Nick placed the 9mm Taurus handgun on the couch where Benny sat. “Shame on you, ‘Crazy’ Benny, and especially you, ‘Littlebull’. You two own handguns while trying to deprive Second Amendment rights from the rest of our citizenry.”
Nick made comical shaming gestures at the two after placing Barren’s .32 caliber Beretta next to her. “Oh… you little hypocrite. You’ve been screaming for gun confiscation all these years and here you are packin’ heat. This does make it very nice for me though.”
Nick went to the expansive bar. He put ice in two glasses and filled them from a Bushmills bottle. He gave one of the glasses to Jian. “Help Benny sip his whiskey until it’s gone. I advise you to drink it, Benny. You’ll need a little buzz going.”
Jian followed Nick’s directions. Benny sipped at his enthusiastically without hesitation. Nick cut the restraint on Bethany Barren’s wrists, but left the one on her ankles. He sat down beside Barren and helped her hold onto the whiskey glass with shaking hands, steadying her grip.
“Down the hatch, ‘Littlebull’.”
“I…I should throw it in your face… you murderer!” Instead, Barren with the steadying help of Nick’s iron grip, drained her glass. Barren’s petulant look returned with her glasses perched at the tip of her nose with mouth open, and eyes in wide glaring fashion. “Give me another whiskey and let me wipe my face.”
“Absolutely.” Nick gave over the glass to Johnny who took it to the bar with Danders’ empty glass. “Want another, Benny?”
Johnny refilled both with a grin at Danders’ enthusiastic head shake in the affirmative. Nick gave Barren a handkerchief from her purse. She wiped her face and blew her nose. Throwing aside the handkerchief, Bethany drained her second whiskey without Nick’s help. He took the glass rather than have it thrown at him.
“One more?” Nick jiggled the glass.
A bleary-eyed Barren nodded. “Sure… why not?”
Both Danders and Barren sipped their third one more slowly. Nick handed off Barren’s empty. He placed the Beretta in her right hand while blocking access to the trigger, and holding her in an iron grip around the chest from behind.
“Hold Benny still, guys.”
Jian and Johnny gripped Danders’ shoulders on each side while keeping as far away from him as possible.
Barren giggled. “I’ve dreamed of… shootin’… this old fraud.”
“Bitch!” Danders was none too happy. “I see how this… plays out. I hope… I’m alive… to blast that bug-eyed look… right off your face.”
As it was only necessary to make sure Barren showed gun powder residue on her hand, Nick slipped his finger onto the trigger. “This will hurt a bit, Benny. I need to wound you too. No one would expect two drunks to shoot expertly at each other.”
Nick fired a couple of rounds through the couch near Danders. He shot a round through Dander’s shoulder before spotting one near his heart. Barren jumped but giggled with each hit. “We need to switch places guys. Come hold onto Barren.”
The men exchanged places after Nick restrained Barren’s wrists behind her once again. He cut loose the gasping Danders. Blood frothing at Benny’s mouth meant the second shot hit his lung.
“Hurry… I want… a shot.”
“Good thing… the bastard’s helpin’ you aim… you old commie!” Barren struggled slightly under Johnny and Jian’s grips at her shoulders.
“Did you hear that, Benny? Let her go after the kill shot, guys.” Nick cut off Danders’ restraint at the wrists. He only needed to put the Taurus in his right hand while blocking access to the trigger. Nick had shot him on the left side so his movements were minimal.
Benny coughed blood as Nick squeezed off one shot into the couch.
“Missed me… you wanker!”
Nick stifled amusement, firing again into Barren’s upper left chest, and then her forehead in rapid succession. Johnny and Jian allowed her to collapse and fall off the couch. Jian cut her restraints off. Nick held onto Danders with the Taurus still in Benny’s hand while he passed away, his lung filling with blood.
“Good shot, Benny. You got her right between the eyes.”
Danders’ chuckle turned into a bloody death rattle as Nick allowed him and the Taurus to collapse on the couch. Nick patted his shoulder. “Perfect, Benny.”
Nick studied Barren’s position. Her right arm was up, so Nick pushed it gently forward. Her right hand rested then on the carpet. Nick put her Beretta a little past her hand. He then backed away, taking in the scene from different angles, finally straightening with a satisfied nod.
“This looks great. It’s a damn shame wh
en leftist liberals don’t get along. Murdering each other like this though… horrible… simply horrible. There’s a lesson in this for all of us,” Nick lectured straight-faced and with big sighs.
“Don’t mess with Muerto’s the only lesson I see,” Johnny replied.
“I was going with ‘can’t we all just get along’,” Nick said.
“Oh barf! You are one sick puppy,” Gus retorted.
“Can you do a Kabuki dance with one of the dead ones in the Ford,” Jian asked.
“Not funny, Dragon breath! Don’t encourage him. He’s already in ‘Hannibal Lecter’ territory now.”
“What a terrible thing to say, Payaso,” Nick replied with shocked tone. “I have never cooked and eaten anyone.”
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“Now, you’re just being mean.”
* * *
Gus awaited Nick and Cala at their hangar. They had prepped and loaded all the bodies in their UH-60M before dark. Nick let Cala fly out into an area, fifteen-miles offshore, which they found in the past to be an active shark area. The bodies, naked and sliced open with intestines open to avoid gas bubbles, usually attracted hits right away. This night had been no exception.
“That didn’t take long at all,” Gus greeted them.
“It turned into a fish feed frenzy,” Cala said. “We were only there minutes. Muerto had not finished throwing out the fourth body and they struck hard.”
“I confess I’ve been avoiding the news,” Gus said. “Ken took the laptop with him back to DC. He says Paul will find a way to release what’s on it to the media. Your shooting scene will be more believable once some of the laptop evidence hits the airwaves. Ken told us there is definitely enough on there to get the rats running around like they were on an electrical charged grid. Are you telling Rachel about your intention to pay Phil tonight?”
“I need to get it out in the open. If she finds out about it secondhand I’ll be in the soup then. Law enforcement agencies have paid informants. They’re in many cases sleaze-balls like Phil and Clarice. This way, I may at least be able to get them thinking about selling stuff to me, rather than to the enemy.”
Cold Blooded Assassin Book 8: Rule of Nightmare (Nick McCarty Assassin) Page 17