Cold Blooded

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “On an island like Jamaica, why would it be so hard for their police to find out who in this Posse was responsible?” Rachel asked, captivated and on the edge of her seat, hearing the tale.

  “The cops are corrupt and the gangs own the ghettos. The Butlers and I went to Jamaica, hoping to petition the government for help. The US embassy claimed their hands were tied. The Jamaican government told us we should have come to them first. I had provided gear and support for Nick in the Dominican, Haiti, and Cuba in past years. Like he said yesterday, there were a couple jobs no one would touch, operating without backup. After watching Nick work, I never turned down a job with him. Anyway, I sent a message to his Internet drop. Three days later he was on my doorstep with his infamous equipment bag. He listened to the story and asked if I could land him at a particular place off the Jamaican coast, near Kingston. He slept on the way. I took him where he had requested. He told me to stay moving until he called me. Two days later, he told me to anchor at the place I’d dropped him off at. Nick showed up with a guy tied up and gagged in the raft.”

  “Interrogation,” Rachel stated.

  “You have some experience with a Nick question and answer session?” Gus asked, somewhat surprised.

  “Oh yeah. Enough to know Nick found someone he was sure knew where your brother was. Then he found out the information in short order.”

  “Then you do know. Nick went back in with a MAC10 and a bag full of hand grenades. I only have my brother’s version as to what happened. Phil told me he and the Butlers were chained in some dank hole under a bar in Kingston. They heard explosions, screams, and gunfire. The trap door to the hole was opened. One of their terrified captors tumbled down inside with them, followed by a guy dressed all in black with his face and arms blackened. Phil said the captor let them loose and Nick shot him in the head. Nick led them up into what was left of the bar, where Phil claimed the floor was covered in blood and bodies. He told me Nick guided them out, shot anything that moved and tossed grenades at random until they reached the Jeep he’d acquired.

  “Nick called me with coordinates to hook up at in the Port of Kingston. When I backed in next to the pier, Nick hustled the three kids on board and we were out of there. The kids looked like hell. They’d been beaten and tortured. Nick helped the kids get cleaned up and their wounds bandaged while I hightailed it home. When we were all safe at my dock in St. Pete, Nick tossed me a bag full of money. I tried to make him keep it. He smiled, patted the other bag he had, and said he’d already acquired his fee.”

  Gus laughed. “You should have seen Phil and the Butlers during the trip to St. Pete. After they were cleaned up and doctored, the three of them avoided Nick like he was the devil himself-not even a damn thank you. Nick told me to sneak everyone back where they belonged without saying anything to anybody. He gave the three kids a quick lecture, telling them to forget they ever saw him and how they ended up in St. Pete. They didn’t need convincing. Apparently, the official who had sold us out was one of the first casualties. A lot of the Kingston Posse hierarchy went to hell, too, so the Jamaican government wasn’t all that upset. Phil completed his internship and marred Julie Butler. They have a threeyear-old daughter.

  “Nick never mentioned anything to you about it at all?”

  “Sure he did.” Gus answered. “He said ‘Piece of cake.’”

  * * * *

  Javier Martine exited his Ford Mustang in front of the Solano Vista apartment complex, wondering if he should call his contact at Fletcher Exports to report he had talked with Rene Santora. Although Rene had told him she had taken ill suddenly, Javier believed something else was going on. She had dodged his questions about whether the log had been checked pertaining to the Hunter safety deposit box and why she hadn’t called him. If those idiots, Vertinski and Vega hadn’t been arrested, I’d be by the pool with a beer. If that dork with the beard hadn’t come over when he did and interrupted us, I wouldn’t have to meet Santora later. As Martine closed his apartment door, someone knocked. He checked out the security eye in the door and saw a familiar man.

  “What do you want?” Javier recognized the man who'd interrupted him and Rene at the bank.

  “Rene sent me over with a letter.” The man held up an envelope.

  I will kill that bitch for sending this asshole to my place. Martine flung open the door angrily. The crackling arc from a stun gun was the last thing he heard before the pain and blackness engulfed him.

  Javier groaned. His eyelids fluttered open and he quickly realized movement was impossible. Plastic ties fastened his ankles to something solid, pulled tight enough to nearly shut off circulation. He could feel his arms fastened painfully in the same way behind his back. A towel had been duct taped around his mouth and head. From what little he could see and feel, Javier knew he was duct taped to his kitchen chair and his pants were down. Directly in front of him, the bearded guy from the bank watched him with a detached look. Javier grunted in an attempt to get his captor’s attention and show he wanted to speak.

  He heard a slight knock. The bearded man went to answer the door as if he expected someone. Javier groaned unintentionally when he saw a woman follow the man into the kitchen. Martine recognized her right away, despite the hair coloring: Rachel Hunter. He saw from her eyes that she recognized him too. The bearded man handed her the stun gun. Rachel leaned down with the weapon, bracing herself with a hand on Javier’s left shoulder, but the man pulled her hand away. He adjusted her slightly so no part of her was in contact with Javier.

  “Remember my husband Rick?” she asked him, just before the crackling sound heralded a pain so intense Javier’s shoulder popped out of its socket when he jerked. He again passed out.

  When he came to, every nerve ending on fire. The bearded guy grabbed his nose with plastic gloved fingers until Javier’s eyes bulged open, and then released him.

  “I’m going to uncover your mouth for a moment. Give me the name of your boss at Fletcher, or Rachel here will tickle your balls with the blue arc again.”

  “Max…Max Stoddard!” Javier cried out the moment the man from the bank peeled down the gag. “Please -” he began before the bearded man pulled the gag back into place.

  “Just like I did a moment ago, Rach,” the bearded man directed, stepping aside.

  Rachel Hunter leaned toward Javier’s widening eyes once again. She gripped his nose shut with her own plastic covered fingers, and glanced at the bearded guy while Javier’s vision turned grainy.

  “Like this?” he heard her ask as if from far away.

  “Perfect.”

  * * * *

  Nick looked over his handiwork carefully. Javier Martine sat on his couch in front of the big screen television mounted on the wall. The ESPN sports channel was selected on the screen at normal volume. Javier clutched the channel changer in his right hand. In his left, a two-thirds full beer can was propped up on his left thigh. The missing third of the beer had been carefully poured down Javier’s throat. Javier’s eyes were closed as if he had fallen asleep watching sports. Nick had cleaned the apartment thoroughly.

  “I’ll get the rental first and swing by to pick you up,” he told Rachel. “Slip out of here and lock up as you leave. Don’t exit if anyone is in view of the door. Keep your hat pulled down over your face and don’t look up, just like when you came in.”

  “Oh, was I supposed to do that on the way in?”

  He growled as Rachel smiled at him innocently. “One of these days, Alice, one of these days,” Nick wheezed through clenched teeth while looking up at the apartment ceiling with cocked fist. “Right to the moon, baby, right to the moon.” He completed his Ralph Kramden ‘Honeymooners’ imitation with a few final shakes of his fist in her direction.

  She laughed. “Not bad. Bullwinkle the moose, right? Can you do Rocky the Flying Squirrel too?”

  “Let’s get going before I’m forced to give you an attitude adjustment,” he replied, slipping out into the night. She’ll be okay.

&nb
sp; Rachel walked out to Nick’s rental and slid into the passenger side seat. He drove around the block to where he’d had her park the Escalade and stopped behind it.

  “Do you think they’ll suspect murder?” she asked before leaving the car.

  “No forced entry, no telltale marks… at least none they’ll spot without getting real close. My guess is they’ll accept the scene the way I left it. Javier’s apartment is locked from the inside. I saw his rap sheet. I doubt the cops will give him a second thought. Rene is the one I’m interested in.”

  Rachel sighed. “You were probably right the first time about my girlfriend. She’s feeding Tanus and Fletcher. So, who tipped off Frank’s people yesterday?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re not going anywhere near that bank now. Rene will be in trouble with some hard people.

  I’m betting Frank’s insider will be checking the logs of who accessed what after Kate and Jessops are missed. Word will get to Tanus that the drives are gone, and Rene will be answering questions about how it happened. I copied the drive from Javier’s rinky-dink computer. I’ll see if he has anything on there I can use. Get going. I’ll see you at the condo.”

  She grabbed Nick hard around the neck, her face inches away from his.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll expect to collect my fee later,” he whispered, his lips caressing hers, making her pull away with a moan of regret. She quickly left the rental and hurried to the driver’s side of the Escalade.

  * * * *

  Gus threw Deke’s well-chewed Frisbee over the patch of lawn where he had seen Nick doing it. It was near dusk and the parking lot lights had already flickered to life. Both Deke and Jean chased after the Frisbee, with Jean trying to block the dog’s path back to Gus after Deke beat her to the toy. Nick saw Gus look up as the Escalade drove into the parking lot, followed closely by the rented Pontiac.

  “Hey, Gus.” Nick waved, getting out with his equipment bag in hand. “Have you tired either of them out yet?”

  “Not hardly. How’s the banking business?”

  “Oh, you know, same old stuff-one less problem, one new one.” Nick waved at Jean as Rachel walked over to join them. “Did you eat yet?”

  “No, I figured we’d all go out to a little place I know in Sarasota. I’ll guide you to it, and then go home from there. You’re buying dinner though, Daddy Warbucks.”

  “Of course,” Nick agreed.

  “I’m starving!” Jean called out, running over with Deke in hot pursuit.

  “The deciding vote’s in,” Rachel added. “Let’s go wash up and get Deke settled in. I hope the place has Long Island Iced Tea.”

  “I guarantee it,” Gus grinned, putting a comforting arm around Rachel’s shoulders.

  “I’ll go out on the porch with my uplink and see what Jim Benoit deciphered from the drives.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they arrived at the restaurant. Even Jean laughed with her mom as they looked at the sign that read ‘Hemingway’s Retreat’, although Nick noticed Jean could not figure what her mom was enjoying so much. Gus jumped out of the Pontiac, pointing at Nick with a jabbing index finger, thoroughly enjoying Rachel and Jean’s reaction. Nick stared up at the restaurant sign, shaking his head.

  “This is a very nice place, Hemingway, so watch your manners,” Gus advised, and then turned to Rachel. “I stayed at his place in Pacific Grove and met his friends a couple years back. We ate at his buddy Joe’s place. It was fun watching the Terminator here get insulted through an entire meal by the guy waiting on us.”

  “I’m starving!” Jean repeated.

  Gus led the way inside. Although the restaurant was crowded, they were seated immediately. Rachel wasted no time ordering a Long Island Iced Tea for herself, and a soda for Jean. Nick and Gus opted for beers. When the waitress arrived with their drinks, Rachel downed nearly a third of her very potent drink, which sent a warning signal to Nick. After ordering their meals, Nick spoke up quickly to capture Rachel’s attention.

  “Jim Benoit confirmed Jason Bidwell is the driving force behind Tanus. He also explained the connection I asked about, which seems to link Tanus with the late Senator Ambrose. Jason Bidwell and Fletcher’s Max Stoddard teamed up a few times in the past to take out a half-dozen government officials in South America and Mexico. Jim gave me the key to deciphering the encryption they used, so I can begin making a list of possible suspects interested in our demise.”

  “Since Ambrose was on the drives, do you think you’re implicated on them, too, from something you did for Tanus?” Nick’s revelation had the desired effect of drawing Rachel’s interest, as her drink seemed forgotten.

  “I’ll know tonight when I go over the information with Jim’s key. It doesn’t matter. I’m bringing Grace and Tim into this tonight anyway.”

  “If Grace wants to round up the Benoits right now, your place in Las Vegas and -”

  Nick gestured for Rachel to keep it down. “There were a goodly number of suspicious things in Las Vegas which might draw the Marshalls’ curiosity. It can’t be helped. I’m hoping for a little discretion on Suzan’s part, but it will be out of my hands once the Benoits hook up with the US Marshall Service.”

  “How long will we be here, Nick?” Jean interjected.

  “You don’t want to be on the road for your birthday, huh Danger?”

  “It is only two days away. A couple moved into the condo complex today. They have a daughter only a year older than me. We talked when she came over to watch us toss the Frisbee around with Deke. Her name’s Ginny. Even Gus liked her.”

  “What do you mean even I liked her?” Gus glanced sideways at Jean, who giggled at his overplayed stern demeanor.

  “You scare off more kids than Nick does.”

  “Gus has to look foreboding when he’s looking after you, Danger.”

  “He’s wrecking my social life,” Jean continued, trying to imitate the frown Gus was leering at her with.

  An hour and a half later, Nick guided Rachel into the passenger seat of his Escalade while Jean jumped into the back.

  “She all right, Nick?” Gus asked, looking the rather pale Rachel over from behind Nick’s shoulder. “I guess we shouldn’t have let her have that third LT.”

  “I…I’m okay,” Rachel assured Gus, looking up at him with a crooked smile. “I just…needed some fresh air.”

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, Gus.” Nick gave Rachel a slight push on the side of her head. “Bring your fishing pole. I have a feeling we’ll be doing some planning and watching the news after I dump this on the US Marshalls tonight.”

  “I’ll bring my fishing gear, but do we have to bring Danger with us? She’s bad luck.”

  “Am not!” Jean called out, poking her indignant face up from the back.

  “See you all tomorrow.” Gus pointed at Jean, and then spun around toward the rental.

  Nick shut Rachel’s door. Fifteen minutes later Nick parked the Escalade in front of the condo complex. Nick handed Jean her mom’s purse.

  “You take this Danger, and I’ll help your mom inside.” Nick shook Rachel’s shoulder. “Wakey, wakey.”

  “Okay, Nick,” Jean agreed, opening her door with Rachel’s purse in hand.

  Nick saw movement near the pillars at the end of the walkway.

  “Danger!” Nick hissed, stopping Jean’s movement out the door. “Get back inside.”

  “What’s wrong, Nick?” Jean hurriedly closed the door again and locked it.

  Rachel stirred when Nick shook her. The urgency in his voice woke her completely, heart racing, and breathing coming in short gasps.

  “Rachel!” Nick took her chin in his hand. “Are you with me?”

  She nodded. Nick reached into the glove compartment for his H &K with silencer, cocking it.

  “Tuck this next to your waist, so the grip pokes toward your right. That’s it. Now clamp it against you with your left hand on the barrel. I’ll come around and help you out of the Cad. Keep your right arm over min
e as I guide you toward the condo. Stay slightly crouched over. I’ll walk you with my right hand on the grip. They don’t want you dead, so if someone’s there, they’ll want to talk. The moment we see who it is, drop like you’re too drunk to stand and reach for the sidewalk.”

  “I…I don’t feel too well, Nick.”

  “Good. Then you won’t have to act. Danger, don’t move out of here or show yourself.”

  “Okay, Nick. Take care of my mom.”

  “I will.” Nick hurried around to Rachel’s door. He opened it, and leaned in to assist her out.

  Nick kicked the door shut, and slipped his right hand onto the butt of the H &K.45 caliber. He kept up a running dialogue telling Rachel they were almost to the condo. As they reached the sidewalk surrounding the complex, three figures stepped out of the darkness in front of them. Nick recognized Rene Santora, but didn’t recognize the two men with her. They were both several inches taller than him.

  “Mr. Weatherby.” Rene chuckled. “Having some trouble?”

  Nick peered at her, while holding a groaning Rachel tightly to him. “Rene? From the bank?”

  “It’s me, and I’ll bet this is Rachel. How long did you think it would take me to check the logs?”

  Rachel dropped forward drunkenly to her knees, hands reaching to ease the fall. All eyes followed her down. Nick fired before the men had a chance to look away from Rachel. Forty-five caliber slugs ripped into their brains, throwing them backwards off their feet, where they landed splayed out on the walkway, twitching as if in shock at their sudden demise. Rene’s mouth opened to scream. The butt of Nick’s H &K struck her in the forehead, landing Santora next to the quieting men. He scooped Rachel up to her feet with his next movement, then propped Rene up in a sitting position, and handed the stunned Rachel his weapon.