“I have just the cocktail for that one. I might even have a favorite tune for you. What would you like to hear?”
“I…I know it’s probably not available… but do you have Bocelli’s ‘Nessun Dorma’?”
“I sure do, baby,” Lynn answered. “I’ll be right back after I set you up.”
A few minutes later, Lynn watched the final smile on Victoria Lydia Voltaire’s face as Andrea Bocelli’s version of the ‘Nessun Dorma’ played out its ending strains on the very good surround sound within Pain Central. Lynn then turned toward a figure seated on a chair in the darkness. The shaking figure moved slightly, and the ever attentive Tonto issued a low warning growl of displeasure. The growl halted all movement from Quays Tannous. At the approach of Lynn, Tannous turned away, avoiding eye contact.
“So… Quays… what did you think? Pretty impressive, huh? If at any time you double-cross us in any way, shape, or form, that will be you lying on the table, only without the needle and music. Think you understand how serious we are now, homeboy?”
Quays had been warned before. He sat up straight, and looked straight at Lynn. “I understand completely, Ms. Montoya. I…I will do anything you want… anything!”
A slow smile spread over Lynn’s features as she knelt next to Tonto, hugging the dog to her. “That’s what I like to hear, Quays. Tonto… you could learn a thing or two from Mr. Tannous. Next time I tell you to bite Clint, I expect you to hop to it.”
Tonto hunkered down on his front paws with what seemed like a grunt of annoyance. Clint laughed in the background where he had been working his laptop.
“Tonto! You little fink. You’re not allowed to pull the old boy’s club card on me.”
Another grunt of annoyance.
Lynn grinned. “You’re lucky I love you, fur-ball. Otherwise, the next time you tasted that gourmet dog food of yours would be when you were too old to chew.”
Tonto immediately jumped up, and began dancing around Lynn joyfully.
“Don’t you dare try and play me, you ungrateful hound. Clint! Your damn dog is making fun of me again.”
“Think of it this way, babe,” Clint replied. “Not many people can claim to having been outsmarted by a dog. You have multiple claims.”
“Arf!” Tonto sat and offered his paw.
Lynn batted it away. “I’m not shaking with you until I get an apology.”
Tonto slumped down with another grunt of annoyance.
“You…you people are really scary,” Tannous said.
“Piss the dog off, Quays,” Clint called out. “Then you’ll see scary.”
Quays cringed into a smaller seated form. “Thanks… but, ah… I’m good.”
* * *
I piloted our King Air B200 turboprop after a smooth takeoff. It was my first solo on it, but I’d flown everything over the years. I nearly went into doing it for my side job, but it’s boring as hell to me. Laredo always said I was a natural with planes and helicopters. I was too careful is what he told me was the only problem keeping me from being a great pilot. The real problem was they didn’t make seats and spacing comfortable enough for a guy my size. Anyway, I was doing pretty well flying, because Lynn was in the back laughing at Tommy’s rendition of telling me I was going in the Bay again, and about our Rattler meeting. That meant she hadn’t noticed anything bad about my flying, which would have earned me a close encounter with her friend with a blade she named Mr. Sharpie.
“I thought knife-hand strikes were illegal in the UFC,” Clint said.
“Throat and head strikes are illegal,” Tommy replied, “but they’re fine anywhere else except the back of the neck. I’ve seen John break boards and bricks. When he started sawing off the pole Lynn poked into him, I got the idea to find a spot Cheese could shoot in a surprise knife-hand. I found one. I have to work on how to keep the Burger’s head attached to his shoulders while he does it though.”
“What do you think about having Tommy back, Cheese?”
“I fired him, Lynn,” I called out over my shoulder. “The moment he mentioned me and the Bay in the same sentence, I fired his ass. He’s playing to the crowd now trying to hang on, but he knows he’s out of work. Pay no attention to him.”
Big laughs at that. With our target in sight, thanks to Lynn, I actually could see her stage act working out the way she wanted it. The recon and approach would be the most difficult items. Once we had Denova, Lynn could alter him into a willing actor on our stage of the absurd with the Hollywood Bounty Hunters.
“You know of course, brother,” Clint said, “Lynn will be working the pole on you in the Bay. I just want to thank you. She’ll be working out all her pregnancy angst on you at a most difficult time. It’s like an early Christmas present.”
“Thanks, Clint… I needed that.”
“Okay,” Lynn said. “We know all about what you want to try, Tommy. How does Cheese land the damn knife-hand strike on that snake-fast mutant, Rattler?”
“That’s the tricky part, Lynn. Cheese is ambidextrous. Rattler rockets out of his corner with that machine gun left jab. He uses his right hook to counter when an adversary tries to punch back after his left jab barrage. His power comes from the blinding fast body twist he throws it with. Rattler knows even if he doesn’t land it cleanly, it will throw his opponent off stride, and into the path of his left again. We’re going to hone John into a knife-hand striking force of nature. The moment Rattler twists into his right hand move, I want John’s knife-hand left to strike the ribcage even with the heart slanted slightly upwards, just like he does striking the poke pole in the water.”
“How’s the Cheeseburger going to survive the right,” I asked. “Gene nearly buried me with it in the first round of our fight.”
“You let me worry about that, Cheese. Practice… practice… practice.”
Then the bastard starts singing ‘Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay’, only instead of the line ‘wastin’ time’ he substitutes ‘pokin’ Cheese’. “Real funny, pal. Not!”
Of course I was the only one who didn’t think it was funny. “Hey Lynn… is Danessa still rooming with you and Clint?”
“The house is huge.” Lynn starts making excuses I realize must be meant as legitimate reasons for allowing her torture victim to live with them. “Danessa is my personal assistant. I need one with all my duties.”
“You mean you need one for doing all of your duties,” Clint chipped in right on cue.
“Fine! I hate house cleaning, and I hate arguing about it. I don’t want some stranger doing it, so Danessa is now going to college while being my live in personal assistant. We needed someone to take care of Tonto when we have to go on sudden trips, like now. He loves her, which is an added bonus. Tonto sleeps in with Danessa instead of us. I did have to send her to a surgeon to repair the minor damage done during the rehab session, but she’s all better now.”
“Wow… that is strange on so many levels. Are you going to invite Quays to move in after we get through with him too?”
“Keep talkin’, Cheese. Just remember who will be workin’ the pole come training day in the Bay.”
Damn it!
* * *
I didn’t spare any expense. I liked Lynn’s idea about not playing this so tight. If we were going to do this her way, it would have to be Hollywood style. I rented a luxury beach house called the Hermosa with four bedrooms and five baths. After driving there from the airport in our rented carry all van, I received some deserved praise for going all out. Lynn immediately scheduled the Hollywood bunch in for a meeting, because we were moving on Denova tonight. By the time we settled in, our guests were arriving, including my lawyer friend we hooked the Hollywood Bounty Hunters up with, Chad Dubrinsky. He, and the lead muscle for the Hollywood crew, Kevin Halliday were already well aware of what my group did in the North. They would be the ones plotting with us. The Hollywood Bounty Hunters’ actors would not be taking a meeting at this level. The Hollywoods were learning, but their main job was to do everythin
g Kev said during a takedown, and film it correctly.
Chad and Kevin arrived together with the little blonde sprite, Kensy Talon, aka the Buffster. It was a product of another deranged set of circumstances. Tommy and I had enlisted Chad to get Kevin out of legal trouble, which stemmed from the way Kevin had torn through the Hollywood Bounty Hunters when they came to collect him. All was sweetness and light now, with Kevin and Kensy getting married. Plus, we had managed to get the Hollywood Bounty Hunters, who were actually reality show wannabes to hire Kevin and an ex-Hell’s Angel named Les Tavor, Lynn had turned from the dark-side, onto their reality show gig. As I said… strange bedfellows.
I invited them all in with hugs and handshakes all around. Les Tavor came up to the door hesitantly as he arrived a few minutes after Chad, Kevin, and Kensy. I waved him in too from the open doorway. “C’mon, Les. It’s good to see you. I’ve heard nothing but sterling reports about you from Chad. How do you like the reality show gig?”
Les and Kevin are the muscle in a crew full of reality show posers. They were both well over six feet tall with roughhewn faces and bodies no one would mistake for male beach bunnies. Les shook my outstretched hand with an uneasy smile. Lynn had to be a little rough with our former Hell’s Angel when we decided he needed to help us and our pet reality show bunch. It had turned out to be a life changing experience for Les.
“I… I heard Kev mention Ms. Montoya would be here.”
“Yeah, but you’re golden with all of us, Les. C’mon in. Lynn will be happy to see you.”
“If… if I get in the way or anything, just say so, and I’ll split… okay?”
I put an arm around his shoulders, guiding him into the house. “You’ll be fine, my friend.”
“I do like this reality show stuff a lot. Kev and I have even been doing a little of the investigating side with Kensy. She’s a perfect cover for us.”
Lynn came down then from the upstairs where she and Clint had been messing around. Little Kensy was all over her. Lynn endured the hugs and groupie affection for a couple minutes, while Kevin and Les looked on wincing as if they expected Lynn to slit her throat. Lynn grabbed Kensy by the shoulders.
“Easy kid, you’re wearing me out. What did I tell you about learning some restraint?”
“Sorry, Lynn… it’s just so good to see you again. We saw the videos of you leading the crew to take out the ‘knockout’ idiots. That was so tight!”
“We’re here to help create a real star making episode with no casualties. Let’s all go in the kitchen and sit down while we explain it to you.” Lynn walked over to put an arm around Les’s waist. “There’s my big star. How have you been, Les?”
“Ah… very good, Ms. Montoya.”
“Outstanding. Let’s get to work. I expect you and Kev to do exactly what I tell you to do, and keep the posers in line. It’s an important job, Les. Don’t screw it up.”
“No ma’am. The other guys are great with the camera angles, setup, audio, lighting, and staging. The moment we get everything in place, we have the arrival dance pose, and then we get it done just like Mr. Harding and Mr. Sands outlined for us.”
Lynn shook Les’s arm. “Damn… I’m impressed. You and Kev are really taking care of business. How’s the Buffster here doing?”
Les glanced over at Kensy, who had a pleading look all of a sudden on her face. Les’s mouth tightened as Tommy, Clint, and I traded grinning looks. Lynn’s attention was on Les.
“Kensy did a terrific job with me and Kev when we investigated a job for Mr. Dubrinsky. It was a guy trying to get a huge settlement for an injury claim. We nailed the flake when Kensy got him dancing at a nightclub.”
Lynn smiled. She patted Les’s cheek. “You changed the subject and gave me a positive. I like your loyalty. Now the truth. She tried another kung-fooey on someone… didn’t she?”
Kevin rescued his comrade in arms. He stepped over to grip Les’s shoulder for a moment. “I got this Les. It’s a process, Ms. Montoya. You know we’d never let her get hurt. She forgets sometimes during the opening confrontation.”
Lynn spun around immediately on Kensy. “One strike upside your head and my only groupie is dead or in a coma. These guys need you to perform for the cameras, not take down gangsters. Tell me you understand or I will give you a noogie right on your little empty blonde head in front of everyone.”
Kensy’s eyes widened. “Like Kev said, Lynn… it was a mistake. I just got excited.”
Lynn put an arm around her favorite little reality star. “I know how tempting it is to dive into the excitement. We’ve had the talk. You’re tiny, kid. You have to use your head. Anyway, I have a lead role for you after the takedown. You’re going to be the one who passes off Gus Denova in handcuffs in some dark alley yet to be determined, to Agents Harding and Dostiene. It will be the film noir of all time in this reality show genre.”
“Thanks, Lynn. Please don’t think less of Kev and Les. They do everything they can to make sure things come out right.”
We were all sitting with beverages by that time. Lynn gestured with a nonchalant acknowledgement of Kensy’s comment. “The boys are doing very well keeping you safe. I expect you to help them. On to business. You put Gus Denova on our radar. Well done. It’s a big one that even if you think too much on it, you’ll piss me off. We have a plan. Once we get the participant into an accommodating mood, we’ll set up a takedown by your crew, followed by Kensy handing Denova off to the dark figured Agents Harding and Dostiene. Are there any questions?”
Chad stuck out his hand to Lynn, who grasped it. “I think we understand this perfectly, Ms. Montoya. Thank you for all the input. Although you may not know what it takes to do this, you are absolutely right on in everything you have done for us. Thank you.”
“Hey… so far… we have a bond. It seems like LA is our Southern snake head for bad things. When you bunch come up with a really bad guy like Gus Denova, you clue us in. It works! Here we are to help make it very profitable for all of us. That is the perfect relationship.
“You surprised us with Gus Denova,” Clint added. “I heard it was you who found out Denova was in LA, Les. How did the info reach you?”
Les took a moment, wondering how he liked being the topic of discussion with people who had nearly fed him to the sharks. “I hang out with guys down at the docks sometimes. Many of them have been in the rackets at one time or another. I spread around some money down there to get tips on skips that we can collect. One ex gangbanger workin’ the docks now recognized Denova. I told him not to mention it to anyone else, because Denova was bad news.”
“Very smart, Les.” Clint looked impressed. I know I was. “You’re a good fit with our Hollywood group.”
“Thanks, Mr. Dostiene. I know you don’t want us taking too many chances for this reality show gig, so Kev and I are real careful about who we go after.”
“The pilot for their TV show airs the day before Thanksgiving,” Chad said. “It’s the takedown of Les. Then the next two episodes deal with me helping Les get time off his sentence while Kevin helped the rest take a couple of skips down. We then integrate Les into the crew along with a blossoming romance between Kev and Kensy. Les and Kev will be stars. There are so many midgets in starring roles that the audience will be stunned to have two dudes their size in this show. The producer liked our pilot so much, they bought a whole season. This Denova guy can be our season ending episode. It won’t air until late spring.”
“That’s perfect, Chad,” I told him. “We should have our business cleared up by then. I think we’re all on the same page now. I’ll let Lynn explain some of the details she has worked out for dramatic effect when we set Denova up.”
Lynn finished a very blunt presentation where she told them they would be doing exactly what she directed. Tommy and I went over some approaches for finding skip traces, such as making friends with bartenders in the seedier dives around. A bartender may want to make a few bucks giving them a call when someone suspicious shows up.
We emphasized getting their e-mail addresses, so the informants could send them pictures of someone they were interested in. The bartenders could also e-mail them with pictures of suspicious looking people who might be of interest. A key was spreading money around like Les had already practiced on the docks. It was a great get together. They left happy, and we got down to business. We knew where Gus was. We would be collecting him in the wee hours of the morning.
* * *
We hung out in the van while watching the converted warehouse in Long Beach. It still had its utilitarian look of being a warehouse near the docks, but there was a party goin’ on. The four of us were happy, watching while our target and his crew made merry. Apparently, Gus thought he was safe: no guards, no fence set up around the building, and no alarm system. Clint had already went recon for any indication of elaborate security cameras or systems. They had decided to trust in the fear people had of wandering around the area, where most thinking folks did not, even in daylight. Some of the partiers were finally making their way to the vehicles parked out in front of the building.
“This shouldn’t take long until they’re comatose after they screw the skanks,” Lynn commented. “Hey… let’s have some fun. I’ll go over and walk right in. I’ll bet by now I could own the building. The boys are probably so stoned, I could slit all their throats and take Gus in about ten minutes.”
Clint, Tommy, and I grinned, shook our heads, and kept silent. We knew Lynn wasn’t done. “What? Clint and John can come up close, while Tommy drives the van nearby. I’ll go in and secure the building, and you two can come in for cleanup.”
I had no intention of taking a stand. Clint married Lynn. He knew her intimately. Tommy and I were innocent bystanders. If Clint was okay with her doing a tour de force inside the warehouse, then I’d simply back their play. We’re monsters. We have quirks. Our quirks could lead to tragedy. We know that. I weighed the positives and negatives of ordering Lynn to stand down, immediately choosing to delegate authority.
Hard Case IV: A Violent Life (John Harding Series Book 4) Page 19