Brutal Business: Book Three in the Mad Mick Series

by Franklin Horton

  Sam tilted her head up to Jason, then glanced at Conor. “How’s that any different? Whether it’s personal or not, if they’re coming this way we’d be in danger just the same. It doesn’t matter if the person who kills me looks at me with hatred or indifference, I’m just as dead either way.”

  Conor sat down on the edge of the porch. “I agree with you there, Sam. To some extent, the motivation of your enemy doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we have advance warning that they’re coming and can prepare. I’m not waiting on them to get here. I’m going to them. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with before the threat ever reaches my backyard.”

  “I’m in,” Jason said without hesitation. He didn’t even need to know what Conor’s plan was but he was certain he wanted to be part of it.

  His eagerness concerned Conor. “Are you sure you’re up to it, lad?”

  Jason knew what he was referring to. It was hard to forget about his injuries, the severe beating he’d taken. “There’s no pain anymore unless I touch my face, talk, or accidentally bite my tongue.”

  Conor smiled. “And how many times a day do you do one or the other of those things?”

  “Pretty often,” Jason admitted.

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not going to accept your offer yet,” Conor said. “You need time to talk this over with your family. I’ll be back this way tomorrow and you can let me know what you decided. Wayne and I are going to go ahead as a two-man team and try to intercept them so we can collect intelligence.”

  “Two man, one woman team,” Barb corrected.

  Conor ignored her. He had another plan and she didn’t know all the details, although this wasn’t the time to get into it. “My plan is to have a larger force, an army, leave one day behind us, the day after tomorrow, and catch up with us on the road. By then, Wayne and I will know if they’re a threat. If they are, we’ll have a plan for engaging them.”

  There were nods around the group. Their faces were dark with concern but understood that what Conor was proposing was probably necessary.

  “If he goes, I go,” Sam blurted.

  Jason stared at her as if she were crazy. “Baby, I love you but this is no place for women. This is dangerous. This is fighting. War.”

  Sam’s mouth tightened and she backhanded Jason in the chest with a balled-up fist. He took a step back, startled and rubbing his chest. She’d hit him right in the sternum with her knuckles, a spot where he was probably still bruised from the attack that left his mother dead.

  “Ow, babe!”

  Sam waved her fist at her husband. “Jason Jacks, I’ll knock out the rest of your teeth if you ever talk to me like that again. This woman is just as capable as you are. Just as tough.”

  Jason gave Conor a pleading look. “Can you talk some sense into her? Tell her it isn’t the place for her.”

  Conor gazed at Sam, then turned his eyes to Jason. “I’d take her over you at the moment.”

  “What?” Jason demanded. “Why?”

  “Your blood is running hot from your injury. You’re pissed off and blinded by it. Every time it hurts, every time you feel pain shooting through your body, you want to make someone pay. Am I right?”

  “Well, yeah. Of course.”

  Conor jabbed a finger at Jason as if he’d answered his own question. “That’s it, right there. Your anger affects your judgment. Sam is doing this for the right reason. She’s trying to protect her family and her community, she’s not out for revenge. Sam would listen and take orders. She would not put others at risk because of some vendetta. That’s the kind of soldiers I need.”

  “If you go, we go as a team,” Sam said, strengthened by Conor’s validation. Jason opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “That’s the only way either of us goes and that’s final, Jason Jacks.”

  Jason, new to marriage and the ways of strong-minded women, tried to gain control of the situation. “Yeah, we need to talk about this as a family, Conor. We’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  “And you’ll be doing some listening,” Sam said. “Not just talking.”

  Jason appeared sheepish. “I always listen to you, baby.”

  “Who’s going to take care of me?” Johnny asked, a grin on his face, apparently trying to redirect the conversation. “I’m old and frail. What if I fall down and break a hip?”

  Conor laughed. “A little snow on the roof doesn’t make you frail. In fact, you’re the person I worry about least. You’re tough as kangaroo jerky.”

  Barb frowned. “Seriously, Dad? You’ve had kangaroo jerky?”

  “Yeah,” Conor admitted. “Not the worst meat I’ve ever eaten but among the toughest.”

  “What was the worst meat you’ve eaten?” Ragus asked.

  Barb slugged Ragus in the arm. “Why did you have to ask that? You know he’ll tell us and it will be stuck in our heads all day. Haven’t you learned anything about him?” She went to plug her ears with her fingers but before she could Conor made his pronouncement.

  “Rotten shark in Iceland.”

  Barb made a gagging sound and walked off.

  “Rotten shark?” Jason repeated.

  “Yep. It’s the national dish. They consider it a delicacy. They age the shark for several months. It’s bloody nasty.”

  “What does it taste like?” Sam asked.

  “Imagine you pick up a fish off the bank of the Dismal River over here. Something that’s been rotting in the sun for several weeks. You throw it in the blender with a hunk of Bleu cheese to get that ammonia taste and then let it firm up. That’s what it tastes like. I just had a little cube on a toothpick and I can taste it to this day.”

  Ragus watched Barb wander around the yard, sucking in deep breaths, hands on hips. “I never figured her for having a weak stomach,” he said, genuinely surprised. “I never figured there was anything weak about her at all.”

  “She wasn’t always like this. Happened after the coon juice incident.”

  “Coon juice?”

  “You don’t want to know, Ragus. And a word of warning. It isn’t something to tease her about. You even say those two words together around her and she’ll pound your ass into a greasy spot in the dirt. No joke.”

  Ragus’s expression made it clear that he understood the gravity of the situation. It was one thing to tease her but quite another to intentionally poke her in the most vulnerable spot.

  “I hope we’re done with that particular conversation,” Barb said, walking back up to the group.

  “We are,” Johnny said. “It wasn’t my cup of tea either.” He was trying to make Barb feel better and she gave him one of her rare smiles.

  Conor sighed. “I guess we need to get moving. There’s plenty to do at home before we have to leave again. Doc Marty, you guys coming with us?”

  “I guess so,” he replied. “Shannon, you ready?”

  She nodded and the two of them got up. Shannon hugged everyone while Doc Marty shook hands. Apparently, the time these two families had spent together had bonded them.

  “So is there anything we should be doing in the meantime?” Jason asked.

  “You should seriously talk about who, if either of you, is coming with the larger force the day after tomorrow. It’s not just about who wants to go but about who can keep the farm running in the absence of the other. No offense to Johnny, but I’m not sure he’s up to doing it all himself. If you both go and leave Johnny here by himself, do you think he’s going to just leave things alone or is he going to try to take on more than he’s ready to do? I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but consider all the options. Think it out thoroughly.”

  “We will,” Sam replied.

  Conor and Ragus were already on their horses when Shannon and Doc Marty came off the porch. Ragus waved and began walking his horse down the farm road. Shannon swung into the saddle and trotted after him, anxious to catch up since they’d been apart most of the day.

  Conor stood waiting on Barb. “You coming
or what?”

  She appeared confused. “No, Dad. All my gear is here. This is where I’m staying, remember?” She could tell by the expression on his face that he hadn’t.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said awkwardly. “I forgot. I’m so used to—”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I’ll be here when you come by tomorrow. Do you need the packhorse?”

  “No, you hold onto it for now.” He waved to the Jacks family and moved to catch up with the others.

  He was shaking his head, lost in a weird mix of emotions. He was frustrated with himself for having forgotten that the whole reason they’d come over here originally was to drop Barb off, which only drew more attention to it and made it all that more awkward. It embarrassed him when few things did. Barb hadn’t been embarrassed, just uncertain of what was going on in his head. In truth, it had been many things -- The Bond, his mission, assembling an army. In that chaos, that maelstrom of thought, he forgot about her.

  “You okay?” Doc Marty asked.

  “I must be getting too old for this. I can’t believe that just happened.”

  “That you left your daughter with another family or that you forgot you were going to do it?”

  “I guess both.”

  “You’ve trained for a lot of things in your life, Conor. This isn’t one of them. Nearly every other situation you’ve been in simply required that you fall back on your training and rely on it. Not sure you trained for this.”

  Conor knew he was right but he couldn’t fall into the same trap he’d just chastised Jason for. He couldn’t let his emotions impede his thinking. Barb’s living arrangements were a done deal. They’d already worked this out. There were a lot of things that needed to be worked out. He needed to build gear lists, and figure out what supplies might aid the larger force coming behind him and Wayne, such as food and spare ammo.

  More delicate than the nuts and bolts business of list-building was the matter of duty assignments. Not everyone in his circle would be going with them. There would most certainly be some hard feelings and some resentment. That was okay. He couldn’t be concerned about that. He needed to put the best person in the best spot for them. He would have to think about who should go forward and who should be held back. He also needed someone to stay with the compound. He couldn’t leave it unattended for long. By the time he reached the compound, he needed to have all of this ironed out.

  27

  By the time they reached the compound gate, Conor was handing out instructions. He sent Ragus riding ahead to have it open for them. The group rode through and came to a stop in the common area in front of the main living quarters. Ragus closed and locked the gate, then joined them, leading his horse behind him.

  “First things first. Ragus, I hate to do this to you but I hope you know that it’s a sign of how much I trust and respect you,” Conor began.

  “I know, I know,” Ragus said. “I’m going to be guarding the compound, aren’t I?”

  “I can’t force you to but I would certainly appreciate it,” Conor said. “I’m not sure who else I would trust with the responsibility.”

  “I was hoping for more action, but I know you’re pressed for time so I won’t argue with you. I got this.”

  Conor smiled. “That’s a sign of maturity, Ragus. That’s exactly why you’re the right man for the job.” Conor didn’t mention that he had considered leaving Barb behind to keep watch on the compound, but he was afraid that such an action might further isolate her from everyone else. If anything, she needed to be more involved with the other folks in the community and bond with them as a team. The best way for that to happen right now was for her to take part in this action with them.

  “Anything I can do for you in the meantime?” Ragus asked.

  “Check the condition of the shoes on the horses. You remember how to do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “If any need attention, we’ll leave them for Johnny and Jason to attend to. I can do a lot with metal but I’m a bit skittish when it comes to attaching it to a mammal with nails.”

  “I would beg to differ,” Doc Marty said. “Are you forgetting Honduras?”

  Conor held a hand up to quiet him. “Not the time, Doc.”

  “Sorry,” Doc Marty replied.

  “I want us to prepare for a minimum two week engagement,” Conor said. “Food, gear, ammo for as many days. Go heavy on ammo in case there’s a protracted battle. We’ll need a field medical kit for the larger force following Wayne and me. Any questions, track me down.”

  Doc Marty had several but Conor had already rushed off. He went first to the larder where he kept his long-term food storage. He grabbed two sealed five-gallon buckets of pasta and two more of rice. He pulled his flashlight from his shirt pocket and scanned the rows of buckets until he found another bucket containing soups and stews. Rice mixed with soup and pasta topped with stew might not be culinary masterpieces, but it was filling and could provide the energy to fuel an army. Conor wasn’t so concerned about this putting a dent in his provisions. He had received several pallets of food as part of his arrangement for putting a roof over Doc Marty’s head.

  It took him a couple of trips to get everything into the living room where he started his first pile, which would be everything he was going to set aside for use by the larger force. It was his intention that Barb be part of that force and that she be in charge of these supplies. If by some fortuitous turn he and Wayne didn’t encounter The Bond on the road, they would bring them back home for another time. Same for the cases of ammo he tossed into the pile.

  Once he had that pile squared away he began working on his own gear. He lived in constant readiness for moments such as this. It had been his way of life for over twenty years now and he felt at the top of his game. Despite his age, he was more prepared than he’d ever been. More skilled, more effective, and way more deadly.

  28

  Doc Marty had no plans to pack anything until he visited the outhouse. Jostling around on a horse all day had stirred his insides until he felt like a shaken soda can. Mission accomplished, he strolled back to the quarters he shared with Shannon. When he didn’t find her there he paid a visit to the empty guest quarters where he’d set up a temporary infirmary. Conor had been reluctant to give up the space.

  “I told Ricardo I’d put a roof over your head. I’m not allowing any of that eminent domain bullshit here. You’ve got your shipping container and your quarters. You get nothing else.”

  “What if you or, God forbid, Barb, comes riding in here with a bullet in you?” Doc Marty said. “You want me out there in that shipping container rifling through boxes for what I need to save a life? The longer that stuff sits out there, the greater chance for it to be damaged or misplaced.”

  Conor finally conceded. Despite his reservations about surrendering territory, Conor had to admit that what Doc Marty said made sense from a logistical and practical standpoint. Doc Marty knew Conor didn’t like it though, and he found a small amount of glee in that. He still had a smile plastered across his face when he entered the infirmary. Then he saw Shannon packing her bag with supplies.

  Her bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m getting ready for the mission.”

  “Getting that ready for me? Shouldn’t those supplies be going in my bag?”

  “No, I’m getting it ready for me.”

  “The hell you are! You’re not going on this mission. You’re still a kid.”

  Shannon continued packing and did not meet her father’s eye. “I am most certainly not a kid. If you’d been paying any attention you’d have seen that I haven’t been a kid for a long time, Dad. No offense, but my childhood ended when you taught me how to resist a kidnapping and how to clear the house for intruders each day when I got home from school. Not to mention what I’ve been through since we got dropped off here.”

  Doc Marty was hearing none of it. He kept shaking his head as if that action a
lone would change her mind. “I will not have my baby going off into battle under the care of the Mad Mick.”

  “I don’t know that I could be in any better hands,” Shannon replied. “He’s quite capable and he wants to help people.”

  “That’s not the point,” he admonished, “and stop what you’re doing.” He made to grab her bag from her but she yanked it away. “He also gets people killed with that screwed up sense of honor and loyalty he has. You’d be putting yourself at risk for people you don’t even know.”

  “Isn’t that what you do for a living? Putting both your life and mine at risk for people you don’t know?”

  “Nowhere close,” he said, fully aware that she was correct but unwilling to concede the point.

  She nodded at him slowly, her gaze accusing, and he couldn’t meet it. “I am not a damn child. I’ve been soaking up every ounce of medical experience you’ve given me over the years. I’ve read every medical book you brought with you because I wanted to be of use to these people. Because I knew I might have to save a life one day, perhaps even your life, and I wanted to be ready.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” he spat, flinging his hands around in frustration. “It’s not all stories and books.”

  Shannon went back to packing. “I had my hands in Johnny Jacks’ body – in his blood -- plugging bullet holes with a gloved finger. I’ve worked under pressure.”

  “Not field pressure. Not battle pressure.”

  “You think I’m not smart enough? That I’m not capable? Is that it?”

  “You know it’s not that, Shannon,” Doc Marty said. “I don’t question your abilities. It’s just that you’re too young and too inexperienced for what’s out there waiting on you. This is life or death circumstances with no second chances if you screw up and no breaks to get your head together. It’s ugly, brutal business.”