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

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I see five guys loading,” Gus replied. “At least we have all of the buy-in money to give to the Pakistanis in case Muerto is out of position.”

  “Muerto is in position, is that not true, Muerto?”

  “Yes, John. Pay no attention to Payaso. I’m in position. There are six guys. One is watching from your two-o’clock with field glasses with night vision capability. See him?”

  Both Gus and John scanned the ship tied up at the dock. “Yes. See him Payaso?”

  “Yeah, second level railing with-”

  The observer’s head exploded. The silenced hollow point .50 caliber round from Nick’s M107 sniper rifle destroyed the man’s head.

  “Damn it, Muerto!” Gus pushed the chortling John on the side of his head. “That wasn’t funny. You have the sickest sense of humor I have ever been addle headed enough to endure.”

  “You’ll love what I have in store for the rest. I’m sick of info gathering. Go meet our truck loading crew. Don’t forget to bring the bag I gave you along with the loot, Kabong. They look to be loading the last of their shipment.”

  “Yes, Muerto.”

  Gus led the way, slowly walking toward the Pakistani semi-rig, hands held in the open. John followed to his right with the two bags of Albanian buy-in money, and Nick’s equipment bag in his other hand. The crew loading the truck scrambled to move in a loosely formed defense, grabbing weapons at hand. Gus tried not to indicate any reaction as Nick blew the heads off the two men at the back of the formation.

  “Shout at them who you are, Payaso.”

  “I represent the Albanians. I…” Nick killed a third man who dropped another step back. “I’ve brought the agreed upon money!” Gus shouted to keep their attention.

  A third man glanced back. His brain matter sprayed out the side of his skull before he could turn his head. The man in front heard the dead man’s weapon clatter to the pier surface. He died the moment he looked in the direction of the noise. His cohort realized finally what was happening, reached for his weapon, and died in the same messy fashion.

  “I’ll bring the truck around for loading, John,” Gus said, as he sprinted toward the Pakistani truck cab.

  “Nice and tidy, huh Payaso?”

  “Only you would think so, Muerto. I can only imagine what’s in the bag you had John carry with him… probably some flesh eating bugs to be spread over the corpses like in the ‘Mummy’ movie series.”

  “No, but that’s a thought. We have a ‘scorch the earth’ order to remind the Pakistanis who is still on the top of the world food chain. I’d sink the ship if it wasn’t for the fact they don’t own it.”

  Fifteen minutes later with the bodies piled inside the truck, John opened Nick’s equipment bag. He extracted the three explosives packets with timers.

  “When you’ve placed one on each end inside the carrier and one in the middle, simply push the red button on each one, John. You’ll have to hurry. We have an approaching vehicle. I’ll stop it now. Steer clear of it on your way out, Gus. If they’re in the wrong place at the wrong time we should know quickly as you approach them.”

  John did as ordered. Gus had retrieved their regular vehicle in the meantime and drove alongside the exiting El Kabong. Gus then drove toward the gate. As they came abreast of a Humvee on the way to the gate, streaming steam and oil smoke into the air, two men jumped from the vehicle, raising weapons. Nick’s burst pulped their heads before they could aim.

  “I’ll meet you at the gate in five minutes,” Nick said. “Don’t worry about the gate guard crew. They’re Paul’s men placed earlier in the day.”

  At the gate with Nick on board they were passed without hesitation through the security point. The semi-rig exploded in spectacular fashion a few moments after Gus cleared the waterfront exit. Gus watched the flames shooting upwards in his rearview mirror.

  “Did Clyde call yet?”

  “He’s in the plane ready to take us East, Gus. Are you okay, or do you need to call home for Tina to rub your belly?”

  “Not funny. Tina’s a bit worried.”

  “Yes, we know. Kabong and I have been watching the great alpha dog, Payaso, in full command of his family life at home. He is truly the master of his dominion, right Kabong?”

  “Yes, Muerto, if being the master means repeating the phrases ‘please may I go out, honey’, and ‘please don’t shout at me dear’ over and over, then indeed, Payaso is master.”

  “Oh… you so funny,” Gus said, not taking his eyes off the road, but tightening his fists on the wheel. “Your time is coming. Soon you will know what must be done to have a happy family life. It is always a matter of compromise and patience.”

  “Yes, and apparently a lot of whining and pleading,” John replied.

  “Tina is a complex woman. Have you had any interaction with Clyde Bacall since his last helping hand, Muerto?”

  “He seems okay. Paul wouldn’t have sent him if he had any doubts. Clyde knows all the scores which works in our favor on this mission. He will do whatever we need done.”

  “Wait a minute,” Gus said. “You sound a lot more positive about Clyde than you should after our recent interactions. Hey John, want to bet on whether or not Muerto bribed Bacall?”

  “Muerto knows the value of a good man. Don’t poison the well with your Payaso deflection tricks from finally being outed as pussy-whipped.”

  “For the record, Kabong, I was not deflecting. I was moving on to a mission based subject. What about it, Muerto. You bribed Clyde, didn’t you?”

  “You already know I’ve shared the wealth before. We made big money in confiscations. There wasn’t any reason not to share the wealth. The wealthy crooks keep showing up at our doorstep. We keep relieving them of their burdens of ill-gotten gains. We needed a field liaison with our beloved CIA Director Paul Gilbrech. Paul and I didn’t want to shoot applicants and Clyde’s been the best so far. If he continuously witnessed my giving bad guys a lot of loot on occasion, we’d lose him. I had to make sure he received something more valuable in compensation than our bad guys.”

  “How much did you give him?”

  “A minor stipend, Payaso.”

  “How much?”

  “A hundred thousand.”

  Both Gus and John enjoyed Nick’s answer. “That should make him your new secret BFF. I hope you coached him on what not to do with a windfall like that.”

  “I gave it to him in his own offshore account no IRS snoop will ever reach. We need him, guys. Paul can’t stay out of the limelight if he’s seen making pilgrimages to strange places where the Unholy Trio happen to be. We have to take care of a trusted link and keep him happy to be on our side. Besides, the extra money might curb his cynical side.”

  “In other words, the cynical side of his sarcastic remarks that might get him shot in the head?”

  “Well sure, Payaso, you could describe it in such a bleak manner.”

  Chapter Five

  The Cincinnati Sanction

  Clyde Bacall brought a satellite phone to Nick. “It’s the Director, Nick.”

  “Thanks. Hi Paul. How’s the surveillance going?”

  “All too well. Both helicopters are in place. We have video evidence of them loading armaments not used in anything but open warfare. They have a chain gun and .50 caliber machine gun on board.” Paul paused, waiting for Nick’s sarcastic response. Not getting it, he went on to answer the unspoken question. “Yes, I sent in my recommendations for a Reaper strike backed up by a couple A-10 Warthogs if need be. They’ve decided to gamble on the Unholy Trio. May I suggest something to piss them the hell off?”

  Nick smiled. “You would like the Unholy Trio to film a video of this, making light of the fact the famous cartoon trio of YouTube fame becomes Ohio’s last resort against unknown destruction from terrorists. Terrorists who should never have been here in the first place, and certainly should have been stopped by the government rather than cartoons.”

  “It will probably get me run out of DC
on a rail, but that is exactly what I would like you to do. I’m sick of keeping the American people in the dark while these Islamist bastards attempt strike after strike while the government allows easy access.”

  “I can make adjustments, Paul,” Nick offered. “There seems to be a fine line developing between cultural allowances and outright treason. I agree with you. If the law enforcement agencies keep thwarting attacks in the shadows, the traitorous politicians who keep kissing Middle Eastern ass will continue putting the rest of us in danger. One slip in this game and we could be in a no options, all-out war in our streets.”

  “That’s how I figure it too, brother. It’s strange we psychos are the only ones seeing this picture. Anyway… when you get into position, let me know what you want and where. If you can pull this caper off on the scale my superiors want, make any statement you want. If it gets even a little out of hand, call me. I’ll order the strikes directly.”

  “Understood. Scorch the earth?”

  “Absolutely. We know the players. We want the players to clearly understand that fact, including the Pakistanis in this dangerous Isis game they’re playing.”

  “I’ll call you from the ground, Paul.”

  “I look forward to it, Muerto.”

  * * *

  “What do you think, Muerto?” Gus watched his friend build his sniper’s roost in the large branched tree with John watching everything with night vision range finders.

  “It’s perfect. I’m glad Clyde took the initiative to mention securing a spot with open access to the hangar property, both visually and physically. The real estate agent handling the property told Clyde the owners live in Florida. I have the hangar front in full view. The bastards couldn’t get the helicopters fully inside the hangar which is why Paul’s drone could see something besides heat signatures. They have tarps covering some spots but it looks like they’re sure no one has a clue what they’re doing. They’re a hundred yards back from the road and hidden by the house when traffic goes by in front. The road curvature lends a perfect blind spot to the hangar from either direction.”

  “What do you have planned in that devious mind of yours, Muerto? I know you didn’t spend the last forty-five minutes getting into a tree perch for nothing. Do you still plan on using John and I as bait again?”

  “Bait is such a negative term, Payaso. I like to think of you and John in this situation as greeters of the dead. They will come forth to greet you and John. I will make them dead.”

  Gus glanced over at the snorting John who kept repeating ‘greeters of the dead’. “You are such a suck up, John. That’s not funny. It will be more like dead greeting the dead.”

  “You worry too much, Payaso,” John replied, not glancing away from his night vision sweep of the area at ground level. “Muerto loves us. He would never let anyone hurt us. If he did, he would then have to face the Tyrannosaurus Tina Rex. That is reason enough to never let a hair be grazed at the top of Payaso’s head – is that not correct, Muerto?”

  “Absolutely,” Nick replied, now scoping range and humidity factors. “I would rather shoot myself in the head than face Tyrannosaurus Tina Rex when I’ve allowed her precious Payaso to be hurt.”

  “I get it. You two have been working on this shit when I’m not around,” Gus said. “I’m being punked in the middle of a mission. Back to facts, Muerto. How do you want us to play it?”

  “Approach them in an open distance along the driveway. I’ll have eyes on all movement. They’ll be upset, so it won’t take much prodding to get them moving around.”

  “Just so we’re on the same page, why will they be upset?”

  “I plan to make their helicopters useless. I brought enough depleted uranium .50 caliber loads to make those two helicopters into very large paper weights. When I get through with them, they certainly won’t be flying anywhere. I also have the weapons sighted which will be getting their fair share of coated caliber action. By the time I finish, I’ll have attracted the occupants in the house. They only leave one guard for the hangar here in the safety of Ohio. I’m ready. I’ll tell you guys when to begin your approach.”

  “What if they have snipers,” Gus asked.

  “What if they have werewolves, vampires, and the creature from the black lagoon,” Nick kidded his friend. “Dive to the ground once I start shooting at targets approaching you and John. Everything will be fine for Tyrannosaurus Tina’s precious Payaso.”

  “Still not funny!”

  “Here we go, boys.” Nick sighted in on the lone guard. The penetration round passed through the man’s skull at such speed, he simply dropped. “There goes the guard. He’s virgin hunting so it’s time for my little buddies Payaso and El Kabong to get across the street in approach. We’ll be networked from now on, right Kabong?”

  John looked into the tree perch for a moment from his keyboard play. “We are networked now, Muerto. Test us when we get across the street. If we hear you as planned, we’ll give you the thumbs up sign.”

  “That’ll work.” Nick called Paul Gilbrech. “I’m ready to launch our assault, Paul. Do you have people in place to stop local interference? They’ll probably get calls.”

  “Already taken care of. Good luck, brother.”

  “Won’t need it, but thanks.” Nick disconnected.

  Nick returned to his part, squeezing off penetration rounds into the engines, propeller shafts, and finally the guns and missile mountings, making them impossible to do anything with if the helicopter could fly. His shots tore apart the mounted chain guns and machine guns. The noise of assaulted metal reached the house’s occupants. They came racing out of the house in various stages of dress.

  “Don’t be shy, boys. This is working better than I hoped. Fire, fire, fire!” Nick grinned as John and Gus dropped down to prone position, firing bursts into the men caught between the house and hangar.

  Nick sighted in the men retreating in either direction. They fired wildly with their own weapons and died. Nick had switched to hollow point clips. The effects of even slight limb hits by the hollow point .50 caliber ammunition smashed men screaming to the ground. Only the short random bursts from the terrorists could be heard. Gus and John’s silenced MP5’s killed in relative silence. Nick finished each of the nine bodies off with final killing rounds.

  “I’ll be down in a moment guys. We’ll have to sweep the house for party favors and chicken shits who didn’t want to come out for the final dance.”

  Nick knelt next to Gus after jogging across the highway. He clapped his partner on the shoulder. “How you doin’, brother?”

  “A little shaky,” Gus admitted. He took Nick’s helping hand to his feet gratefully as John joined them. “I don’t get enough practice in open combat to be very complacent.”

  “No problem,” Nick replied. “Are you okay, John?”

  “Yes, Muerto. Who leads?”

  “I’ll take us in. We’ll have to be thorough. It’s a big house, but we need to take anything they have of value, not to mention I don’t want to get shot in the ass while dragging bodies into the hangar for the fireworks show. I brought our costumes and camera gear in this pack.”

  Nick dropped the large pack from his shoulders. “As I mentioned, the Director wants a cartoon for the people to see how dimwitted their government is about terrorists in our midst. It may get him canned, but we’ll have some fun doing it.”

  “They’re all dead, Muerto. What fun did you have in mind,” Gus asked suspiciously. “Oh no… no you don’t! You’re not doing that evil Kabuki dance of the dead with the corpses!”

  “See. This is why I don’t tell you everything. I brought Kabuki masks for all of us, so John would get a laugh and surprise. He hasn’t seen the Kabuki dance of the dead yet. Now you’ve ruined the surprise, Payaso. For shame.”

  “Kabuki dance of the dead? Like when the Japanese playact in those theaters with white face?” John started laughing. “Oh… I get it. You make the corpses dance with your Kabuki mask on. I have to see th
is. Can we be in our costumes and then suddenly slip the Kabuki masks over our other face mask?”

  “Exactly, John,” Nick replied. “See, Payaso. John enjoys the Kabuki theater. He is a true patron of the arts.”

  “Oh barf! John, I am disappointed in you. There’s no way in hell you should be embracing this warped crap Muerto comes up with.”

  “It annoys the hell out of you, Payaso.” John grinned at his friend. “That is enough for me to enjoy the process.”

  “Enough frivolity for now. We have a house to clear… and a Kabuki theater to rehearse as we haul the bodies to the hangar for their final dance.”

  “I think I’ll take point,” Gus said. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will shoot me in the head before the Kabuki theater opens for business.”

  “Not a good idea, Payaso, my wayward sidekick,” Nick replied. “If you get yourself killed, I will do a Kabuki on you in retaliation for not being careful, and forcing me into a showdown with the terrible Tyrannosaurus Tina Rex.”

  “You would too. Okay. You go first.”

  “Don’t put any negative Payaso vibes on my ass,” Nick warned. “Watch him, Kabong. Tell me if he puts the hex on me or something.”

  “Yes, Muerto. I have your six.”

  Nick signaled his friends to spread out on approach to the house entrance. At the door, Nick halted at the side, using his hands to indicate John and Gus should make no sound. He listened with eyes closed, a smile forming slowly. Nick moved away from the door. He holstered his Beretta and borrowed Gus’s MP5. Taking aim at the left side of the doorway. Nick fired a burst through the entrance corner, garnering first a short scream followed by silence.

  “Say hello to my little friend!” Nick kicked the dislodged door in off its hinges. He fired in short indiscriminate bursts, but there was only one body in the entrance way. “I always wanted to do that. I figured there was only the one mouth breather in there at the door.”

  “So there wasn’t anyone else in the entrance other than the guy you killed with the first burst?” Gus accepted the MP5 and popped in a fresh clip.