Cold Blooded Assassin Book 5: Nightmare in Red (Nick McCarty Assassin Series)

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Cold Blooded Assassin Book 5: Nightmare in Red (Nick McCarty Assassin Series) Page 2

by Bernard Lee DeLeo


  * * *

  Gus drove alongside Nick. They had witnessed the encounter, enjoying the confrontation nearly as much as Kensky hated it. Nick’s wave at Kensky’s lawyer evoked loud amusement. Nick jogged over to the car after shaking hands quickly with a few in the crowd. In another moment, Gus had them speeding away.

  “You certainly handled that encounter with your usual flair, Muerto.”

  Jean giggled, hearing the comic book nickname pinned on Nick by Gus. She enjoyed being in the company of three killers, all of whom embraced Nick’s penchant for the comic book nicknames he had expanded upon the moment Gus explained where he had heard the name El Muerto. Nick then dubbed Gus his sidekick Payaso, meaning clown. Their compatriot John Groves, formerly a terrorist named Ebi Zarin, was now a self-proclaimed patriot Nick dubbed El Kabong after the cartoon character. No one lost sight of the fact Nick’s comic book character’s name meant ‘The Dead One’. That they filmed some of the most horrific terrorist deaths as masked superhero cartoons to be seen by millions on YouTube catapulted El Muerto, Payaso, and El Kabong into a force of rebellion against encroaching Islamists.

  As they passed Kensky, still hobbling along with Brock toward their car, Jean waved at him through her open rear window, laughing at the rage engulfing the killer as he nearly threw his cane at their SUV. “Dead man walking.”

  “Oh boy,” Nick muttered as Payaso and El Kabong stifled their amused reaction to Jean’s baiting of Kensky. “Jean, Daughter of Darkness, must you take every opportunity to make light of an extremely serious matter?”

  “We’ve talked about this, Dad,” Jean said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to be just like you. I’ve toned it down in front of Mom as you asked. You said yourself Sonny and I are throwing daggers as well as anyone you’ve ever seen. We shot expert when you took us to the range too with the .22’s. I’m way ahead of schedule. I know you’re going to mutilate and kill that wanker Kensky. He deserves it. He wants to kill us all, and torture Sarah.”

  “Good Lord in heaven,” Nick whispered looking prayerfully at the roof of the SUV. “Couldn’t you at least consider writing or being a doctor, or even a race car driver? You’re nine, Dagger. Everything changes as we get older. I don’t want you to be like me. Your Mom will shoot me right in the head.”

  “Dagger has Sonny recruited for the assassin trail too, Muerto.”

  “Uncle Gus?” Jean stared at Gus’s amused eyes in the rear view mirror accusingly. “Recruiting? Really? Sonny likes it over at our house better than his house with those manikins he has for parents. Is it actually possible for two cardboard cutouts to procreate?”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Nick said, ignoring the hilarity caused by his far too knowledgeable Daughter of Darkness. “We have to be careful because we don’t want the manikins in our business. I like Sonny. He’ll have to watch what he says to his parents or they won’t allow him anywhere near our house. You’ve already got the boy joining the Marines with you. What’s next?”

  “Like Uncle Gus said. It’s the assassination trail for us.”

  “Your Mom’s head will explode if you keep this up. I need help raising your brother. Quinn will want his Mom around. You’ll put her in a mental ward with all this assassination talk. She needs you to help her around the house like you’ve been doing. We sure got messed up with this trial in May. It’s a bit lucky they let Agent Kaitlin free long enough to ruin Kensky’s case. I knew with Dan gone the trial was screwed.”

  “I miss Dan,” Jean said, solemn for the first time.

  “As do we all,” John added. “There has been a bright spot in this for Jean with her teacher Dimah. We’re watching out for her cousin Cala, so she’s really helping us out with Jean’s schoolwork load.”

  “I think it’s you mostly watching Cala, Uncle John,” Jean spiked him.

  John shrugged at the amused reaction Jean received for her observation. “I care for her, and Cala likes me. With Dimah’s wedding approaching in June, this will be a very nice time in the weeks ahead. Does she still want you to give her away, Nick? You haven’t talked about the wedding much. It is all Cala talks about.”

  “Yep. Rachel will be Maid of Honor, and I’ll be giving the bride away,” Nick acknowledged. “We need to get back to Pacific Grove. Dimah will be starting to freak out that she doesn’t have a Maid of Honor to help her before the wedding.”

  “You wouldn’t be thinking about a double wedding would you partner?” Gus glanced back at John while stopped in an intersection.

  “Cala is a very exciting woman,” John replied as Jean gripped his arm.

  “Uncle John! That would be so neat! You and Cala are a great couple. I like her. She’s in Dad’s personal witness protection program like Mom and I were a couple years ago. My teacher’s family is nuts with the honor killing crap. I’m glad Cala escaped like my teacher did. I can tell she likes you a lot, and she’ll be living at Dad’s house in Carmel Valley with you for protection.”

  “Yes, in many ways the Kader family represent every single drawback and travesty in Islam today,” John replied, patting Jean’s hand. “I believe Cala needs more time to know if she wants to be with me. I am being very respectful, but I am very much taken with her.”

  “I like where you’re headed, Brother John,” Nick said. “I thought I saw a spark there between you and Cala when we went with Dimah to meet her plane. I saw Dimah immediately begin to take on matchmaking duties after the meeting too.”

  John chuckled. “She is indeed thrusting herself into Cala’s life like an older sister. Since Dimah likes me, I have an inside ally. With how well Cala and I get along though, I don’t think we’ll need much in the way of matchmaking. I am relieved to know you approve, Muerto.”

  “What’s not to like? Cala appeared ready last night while sitting with you to become a lot more than a member of what Dagger calls our personal witness protection program. With Dimah thinking of moving with her Bill the Marine, Cala would not have anyone out here.”

  “I’m going to be sorry when Ms. Kader leaves,” Jean said. “She seems happy to be moving with him to Camp Pendleton. It’ll sure be safe there for her with the Marines. I think she was happy Bill would be staying in the Marines on active duty.”

  “He’s a great guy,” Nick replied. “I noticed you and Sonny asking him all kinds of questions when we had the barbeque for Bill and Dimah when Cala arrived. He must have enjoyed two nine year olds ready to join the Corps together.”

  “You should have seen his and Dimah’s face when Sonny and I showed them our knife skills. He had a few extra questions about you after that, Dad.” Jean giggled.

  “Very funny. Your Mom hasn’t checked in yet. I wonder if Quinn took a nap, and your Mom’s out cold catching a few moments of sleep.”

  “You’re the one who flies into Quinn’s room all night,” Jean replied.

  “I rented a mansion. If you had picked a room on the other side like Gus, Tina, John, and Cala did you wouldn’t know what the heck is going on in our room or the baby’s.”

  “No offense to Uncle Gus and John, but it’s more fun near you and Mom.”

  “Gee… thanks. We’ll be in Pacific Grove and in our own homes soon,” Nick said. “I’m sick of the Pacific Northwest.”

  “So this is the Ripper’s last day on earth, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t know, brat. The trial’s over so we’re heading home.” Nick knew hiding anything from Jean after all she had been through, coupled with the insane interest she displayed about his unique skill set, was nearly always an exercise in futility. “We were here to support justice and Sarah. Failing that, we have no choice but to journey home to a brighter point in our lives.”

  “Yeah right. Kensky’s as dead as hope for the justice system.”

  “That’s enough out of you,” Nick warned, turning to jab a finger in her direction. Noting how amused Gus and John were, Nick added an addition. “That goes double for you enablers. Jean speaking like a kill crazy twenty-nine year
old instead of a nine year old will stop as of now unless a certain blondie would like to test my will.”

  “Uh… no thanks… I’m good. I’m sure Mr. Kensky will live a long and fruitful life, have children, a dog, and become a pillar of the community.”

  “Sarcasm will also get you put ashore off the good ship ‘Electronic Gadgets’ until you’re eighteen, Daughter of Darkness.”

  “No fair pulling Mom’s ‘exile from gadgets’ card.”

  “Want me to ask her for permission?”

  “I don’t know why you’re so mind crossed about Kensky, Dad. I know what will be happening. I know you said pretending is the way to handle this, but it’s just me and the ‘Unholy Trio’ here. There’s no need for acting performances when it’s just us.”

  “Yes, there is,” Nick continued his stare down. “I know I’ve been lax on keeping you in line, although your Mom reminds me of it at least a dozen times a day. She’s right about us joking around too much in private. Then we… or actually you start acting out in public as you did in the courtroom and baiting Kensky out the window as we drove away. People see you acting like you’ve lost your mind first, and then they start an examination of the adults who are supposed to be guiding you.”

  “I know,” Jean muttered, turning away from Nick’s very effective glare. “I’ll do better in the acting department. That Kensky guy reminds me of the men who were chasing Mom and me, only worse. I keep seeing him scaring the crap out of Sarah every day when you let me go to the trial. I want to see him scared.”

  Not having an answer for Jean’s very to the point observation, Nick turned toward the front again. “I’m not saying your gut feelings are wrong, but acting out in public puts pressure on all of us. We need you to be more introspective if you want to accompany us out in the public eye. You can bet people who glimpsed you baiting Kensky will be wondering what kind of idiots are raising you. I had to get special permission for you to even be in the courtroom.”

  “I know. They wouldn’t let you take me on days where the evidence they did allow could be presented. You know I’m not a normal nine year old. Sonny isn’t either. He understands and accepts everything. He’s puzzled out everything from when you interacted with his manikin parents, Phil and Clarice, in relation to all the bad stuff happening with the Department of Justice. All he gets from them is lies.”

  “Phil was caught up inadvertently in a traitor’s scheme because he’s ambitious and prodded with a cattle prod from behind by his lovely Clarice,” Nick replied.

  “The Country Club bribe was a good one, Muerto,” John said. “It did seem to quiet those two down. What did Rachel say about it?”

  “I don’t want to go there, John.”

  “Muerto got toasted,” Gus answered for Nick. “Rachel hates the sight of those two. She can’t believe they can be Sonny’s parents. She thinks they kidnapped him.”

  After general amusement over Rachel’s very outspoken disdain for the Salvatores, Jean of course enlightened everyone about what Rachel did think about it. “Yeah, when Dad told Mom he was paying for the Salvatore’s Country Club membership, she asked him if planned to mow their lawn and clean their toilets too.”

  “Thanks for the reminder, brat. It solved the Salvatore’s disenchantment with being out of the Washington D.C. social scene. My solution allowed for another slight unexpected surprise,” Nick explained. “My friend at the Corral de Tierra Country Club, Julius Danvers, told me the first thing the Salvatores tried to do was get my membership revoked. I decided not to tell Rachel about that. Julius wanted to know if he could throw the Salvatores out instead, but I told him I’d rather he didn’t because we only go there to have dinner with him.”

  Silence, uncomfortable silence, met his admission from the other occupants of the vehicle, even Jean.

  Nick looked around in confusion. “What?”

  “You know Mom finds out about this stuff, Dad. It may be too late, but you could try and get in front of this at the house when we get back. That makes me mad at Sonny, and he didn’t even do anything. I’ll have to find out now if he knew about it and when.”

  “What she said, Muerto,” John agreed.

  “Say prayers on our way that she didn’t somehow find out about it while we were gone,” Gus added. “You’re blessed we aren’t in Pacific Grove. She would have heard the rumors working at the Monte Café for sure.”

  “Gee, thanks for that, Payaso. Where the hell were you when I was hiding this Salvatatore tidbit from my lovely wife? I’m doomed. She’ll cut me apart, and stuff me in a suitcase.” Nick started laughing, but when no one joined him, he shrugged. “Don’t make me have to go back to practical jokes to show my alpha status in the household.”

  “Throw yourself on the mercy of the no longer pregnant, Princess Bump,” Gus advised. “Remind her how many times you jump to get Quinn at night. She’ll weigh your felony Salvatore info withholding crime against her sleep deprivation.”

  “Self-flagellation, Muerto,” John recommended. “Rachel will overlook your crime if she sees you’re truly penitent. Accompany the whipping with one of those medieval monk dirges.”

  “You two are very funny. Don’t be taking this out on Sonny. They don’t tell him anything. I’ve seen his face when he reads about something Phil has done or decreed at the Passport Office. He’s as stunned as everyone else depending on how self-aggrandizing the news flash is. Phil only journeys to his office in San Francisco about once a month, but he issues communiques to the others in the office all day long.”

  “How do you know all that, Dad?”

  “My buddy Paul Gilbrech at CIA has kept his actions under surveillance since he was mixed up with his mentor and traitor, Lee Collister. Sonny doesn’t know about the country club back stabbing because I figured it would cast a bad light on him. He’s between a rock and a hard place with being your friend and the son of two people who hate my guts. I noticed he’s been burning up your e-mail inbox with notes since we left.”

  Jean gasped. “How do you know that… oh… that’s just wrong. You hacked my e-mail? I could have you deported back to Terminator world in the future for invasion of privacy.”

  “Calm down. I don’t read your notes. I make sure you aren’t being approached by an entity dangerous to our family you might inadvertently open, giving them free rein to monitor our lives. I tell your Mom I monitor the inflow. If she knew she could read them all you know where my precious Rachel would be spending her spare time, right?”

  “Okay,” Jean relented, enduring the ‘Unholy Trio’s’ amusement of her hacked e-mails. “I’ll trust you not to allow Mom in on this travesty.”

  “You do know how disconcerting it is holding a conversation with a nine year old who speaks like she’s thirty, right? I guess my novel writing lessons and tips are helping your diction.”

  “Nope,” Jean disagreed. “It’s mostly hanging out with you three dinosaurs all the time and never being able to interact with kids my own age. I have been deprived of my childhood.”

  “Uh oh… there’s Rachel holding Quinn out front.” Nick peered out the front window, trying to distinguish whether his mate was mad or glad to see them arrive. “She looks serious so it could be anything from a diaper rash to all life on the planet ending tonight.”

  “Tina and Cala are nowhere in sight,” John pointed out. “They’re usually on hand for any funny tantrums involving El Muerto and the former Princess Bump.”

  Gus parked their SUV in front of the mansion along the circular driveway leading in and out of the front area where the garages were located. The front entrance was a magnificent postcard picture of rounded windowed architecture. No one complained during their weeks at the mansion. Nick had become worried his family would rebel when it was time to return home. He needn’t have worried though. The Seattle rains began a week after they arrived for the trial, pummeling the area in a steady downpour the California residents were unused to.

  Hunched forward, Jean’s mouth tightened. �
��I think we should keep going. We’ll call her from down the street. Mom’s been a little moody lately. It’s best to collect facts before interacting with her.”

  “Go out and stun her with your vocabulary,” Nick replied. “Tell Rachel you’ve written a story about a Mom who survives pregnancy and loves life to the fullest.”

  “What are you bunch laughing at?” Rachel stopped alongside Nick’s open window, shifting Quinn to her other arm. “I saw your press conference, Muerto.”

  Nick opened his door to slip out and engulf his wife and son in his arms. “Hi. No, that was not a Muerto media crisis. It was a Kensky media crisis. Apparently, his lawyer guessed the media planned to have a serial killer love fest. The crowd thought differently. They ate poor Gerald like a tuna fish sandwich. He tried to turn the thing on me as we attempted to sneak away. It didn’t work well for him. Did I look bad on camera?”

  “No. It’s just there was so much publicity about this case, I’m afraid even the great El Muerto won’t survive in the public eye much longer without a prison sentence. Everyone knows you’re the sniper who shot Kensky’s hand and foot off. They also know McCarty the novelist has ties to every government law enforcement agency in existence. Doesn’t that worry you?”

  “As long as Paul stays in charge at CIA, I’ll be fine. If he gets cut out, then we all head for the hills. Who was it again who wanted to instill a social conscience into the mind of El Muerto?”

  Rachel pulled away. “I didn’t tell you to become a cartoon. You’re out of control, Muerto. You and your sidekicks, including the Daughter of Darkness, have gone around the bend of insanity. I know what’s in store for Kensky. After today’s confrontation you will be the number one suspect if something happens to him.”

 

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