“You hit targets with the knives dead center when your friend gave them to you, Dad.”
“I have a talent for remembered physical action, whether it is a killing stroke with the hand, sighting in a sniper rifle, or throwing expertise with the knives. My life depended on… say it with me, kids… planning, projection, and perfection.”
Jean and Sonny had repeated the mantra with him on cue. They knew better than to ignore their teacher’s direction. Nick stepped away. “First, take turns using your right hand in a softball fast-pitch type motion. I bet you two understand why I made you learn to fast pitch a softball with both hands now.”
“It would have been more exciting if you had explained why, Dad,” Jean mumbled.
“Part of training begins with unquestioned steps attaining expertise. I went into training with Lucas Blake after my being in Delta Force for years. I learned within a week, Lucas knew more about survival and combat tactics than I had learned in all the years leading to my working in clandestine operations. Casey Lambert, Clint Dostiene, and I were selected as operatives from nearly fifty applicants from all branches of the service, alphabet soup agencies, and law enforcement. Naturally, our language skills, combat experience, and demeanor had much to do with it. Lucas Blake refused to pass the unqualified. Part of why he got out of the training end had to do with his uncompromising knowledge of what it would take to stay alive in the business. He kept getting orders to tone his instruction down because he had the lowest number of applicants passing of all trainers. What do we learn from that, kids?”
“To be the best, you must train like the best,” both kids repeated the training cliché Nick instructed them in after learning they wanted more than a neat game to play.
“That’s the key,” Nick said. “I want you both in as many sports as is physically possible. Competition hones your skills and drive.”
The doorbell rang. Nick gestured for everyone to remain where they were, including Rachel and Quinn. “It’s probably either or both Gus and Johnny with their mates. I need to conference with Gus and Johnny, so I’ll send Tina and the Cleaner back here with all of you, unless Cleaner wants in on the op we’re going to do. I’m not sure if there would be a need for her on this Pilot Hill excursion.”
“She’s doing great with the piloting your new helicopter,” Rachel said. “How in hell did you get a UH-60M Blackhawk helicopter by the way, Muerto?”
“Lots of money, and the backing of the CIA Director,” Nick answered. “What you should be asking is how in hell did I ever buy my own hangar at the airport.”
“Knowing the amount of money confiscated like a black clad Robin Hood, I already know the answer to the hangar financial origins. The Blackhawk, on the other hand takes practically the hand of God, especially with the armaments procured and stored in said hangar.”
“You have been paying attention. Laredo helped me with Paul’s backing. I provided the money, so once permission from the top came down, I obtained the Blackhawk. Laredo helped refresh my training. I have to let our friends in. Keep practicing, kids.”
Nick went out to the front entrance with Deke tagging along. The whole gang awaited his arrival. He opened the door with Deke heeled at his side. “Hi. Come on in. I’ve been conducting practice sessions out in the back if you’d like to join Rachel out there, Tina. If you want in on this new op, ask Johnny if you have his permission, Cala.”
Cala laughed with appreciation while hugging her husband. “Johnny wants me with him in all things, Muerto. Will this involve helicopters?”
“It could involve a copiloting job if you’re interested.”
“Oh yes! I am so there, Muerto! The music will be involved, right?”
“Of course, although I have a quieter ending with another idea I’m thinking through.”
“I’ll leave you all to it,” Tina said. “Can I stop in the kitchen for wine, Gomez?”
“Rachel already has your glass and a bottle of Beringer’s ready for tasting, T. The kids are providing some very entertaining knife throwing exhibitions. They’re practicing new tricks.”
Tina pointed at Nick as she backed away toward the knife throwing target range. “That is highly disturbing, Gomez, but I suspect you already know that.”
“Indeed I do, Cousin Itt.”
On the enclosed deck above, Nick poured Deke a beer while Gus poured rounds of Bushmill’s Irish Whiskey. “I don’t know if this op will be officially sanctioned. Paul’s working on it. He’ll go down protecting us if it doesn’t get official approval. I would like to avoid any involvement with him, but if we salt the earth it will have to be sanctioned. They’ll scramble jets to take us out otherwise. John told me already they have to have an okay from high above or the ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ can’t happen. The Monster Squad did a couple with tentative okay fom Denny and would probably do them without permission, but John’s agreed it’s not a good idea. The jets have to be grounded during a black op or they could be launched on us, especially on American soil. I’ve looked over this place they have and it is a gorgeous place. We certainly don’t want to blow it into atom dust. Anyone want to guess what I have in mind?”
“You’re thinking confiscation! Can something like that be done?”
“Sure it can, Kabong,” Nick answered. “We could build a helicopter pad on the premises. The confiscation may require some creative alterations in ownership though. It could be a halfway house paradise between us and the Monster Squad. It’s nearly sixteen acres. We could hangar a couple of helicopters there and maybe even one of those Harrier jets that can take off straight up.”
“Those take maintaining same as the Blackhawk will. I have been studying with all the material you gave me on our UH-60M,” Cala said.
“We would have to employ a crew at the Monster Squad Hangar, or our local Monterey Regional Airport, for serious maintenance. I serviced helicopters and jets during a CIA gig overseas. The regular maintenance has to be done religiously, employing intricate checklists. Since we already have the hangar at Regional, housing the beginning of our air fleet, we can split duties with the Monster Squad for any quick response aircraft we keep in the Pilot Hill Hangar. When we need something major done to the Blackhawk, or whatever else we can procure, we’ll have to do so under Laredo’s supervision at possibly a military facility. We can get the more involved overhauls done through Denny Strobert or Paul at a military base. Denny managed to get the ‘Sea Wolf’ and ‘Valkyrie’ turned into combat ships. I’m sure we can keep our quick strike force on the down low if Laredo can oversee servicing at Regional, or the Monster Squad Hangar. I’d like to confiscate this place in Pilot Hill as a secret launch area for wiping out Isis nests we find. I know we can get the clearances. Think of being able to leave from there, under the radar, for a hit within range, and be back in a time frame without suspicion.”
“Pilot Hill’s over three hours away though,” Gus pointed out. “We’d still be stuck flying out of Regional to get there. You have over ten acres where John lives.”
“Can’t do it there, Payaso. The locals’ heads would explode if I built a hangar on my land in the Valley,” Nick replied. “The first time a helicopter or anything else left my place, I’d have everyone from the PD to the National Guard going over our interrogation and storage facility. You’re right about the connecting part. We’ll have to puzzle that part out, depending on the mission. I love the idea of owning that place though in Pilot Hill. It doesn’t get a lot of snowfall because it’s a couple of hours down from Lake Tahoe. I like it for another safe house we can use as an armory too, along with doubling as a launch site.”
“You really have embraced John Harding’s Monster Squad, Muerto,” Cala stated. “Gus has said you hated working with anyone. Now, we are becoming an army.”
“John started out with only Lucas and Casey in the North under Strobert. They have a network now with Alexi Fiialkov watching the ports and streets, police on the pad for quick reports or cover, and a much larger force of kil
lers. We’ve seen them in action. They can be counted on. This underground terrorist war keeps expanding, thanks to the idiots in government importing the bastards, or leaving the borders wide open for them to stroll in. For the first time ever, I’m not sure we can avoid a serious war on our soil. Like I told Gus once – I don’t like being hunted, and definitely not in my own land.”
The four sipped from their drinks quietly for a moment before Johnny broke the silence. “Have you considered anything else with the Channel Islands’ Mother Ship near San Luis Obispo? You mentioned Fernando Carone after our interrogation where we initially extracted Al-Kadi’s Pilot Hill location. When do you think we should move on him?”
“Before he recruits another bunch of ‘bangers to pick up where the crew Jay ran left off. He’s aware of the huge gang fight leaving his ‘banger explorers dead by now. Fernando may or may not believe there’s a more organized crime syndicate here establishing a presence. When a guy like Carone believes he may be getting challenged, he might send a few pros here to soften up the situation. We may have to do some detective work before we move on the ‘Mother Ship’. If he sends pros, they’ll be thinking to look for other ‘banger types. They’ll be leaning on local punks and frequenting seedier hotspots in the area, hoping to get leads on non-existent threats.”
“Where would you go for that, Muerto?”
“If I was an out of town thug, I’d check in Salinas first, but then I’d have a drink at Carbone’s on Lighthouse in Monterey,” Nick answered. “They wouldn’t expect to find anything there, but they’ll probably stay in Monterey, even though they’ll be looking for connections in Pacific Grove. Carbone’s is one of the top rated ‘Dive’ bars in the area. It’s a great bar. Chasing unknown thugs would be a waste of time. We’ll take turns checking the place for the next week. Believe me. When the pros don’t find any leads, they’ll hit Carbone’s some night soon if they haven’t already. I’m hoping since Jay’s crew’s bodies were only found at the abandoned warehouse a short time ago, it will take Fernando time to decide about a follow-up check.”
“Do you think Jay called Carone about the foiled roller rink heist?”
“I doubt it, Cala. I’m sure Jay and his buddies figured just like we heard before they met the Unholy Trio – they planned to terrorize me and the kids on their own.”
“Okay, so we take turns having a few at Carbone’s,” Gus said. “What then?”
“We’ll have to take them at their motel or outside the bar. We’ll have to be discreet.”
“How will you know if we find them, Muerto? They won’t have nametags.”
“I’m surprised at you, Johnny. To think you don’t believe I’ll be able to pick them out in a crowd is very hurtful.”
“Are you going to the bar every night?”
“Nope. We’ll take turns with our cams. If it’s not my night, I’ll be here at home with my iPad handy for live streaming. I’ll do the first few nights to establish a presence.”
“This sounds awfully flaky for the number one assassin in the world,” Gus kidded him.
“You’ll eat those words, Payaso, when I find our pros.”
“Let me go tomorrow night with Tina. She and I haven’t been out on a Saturday night for quite a while. This Carbone’s sounds interesting. We’ll take a cab there and back.”
“If you find the pros, Payaso, just have the T-Rex eat them,” Johnny said to much amusement.
“When do you think we’ll get permission to start on the Pilot Hill mission,” Gus asked, ignoring Johnny.
“Paul authorized at least a week of satellite surveillance,” Nick answered. “We can’t attack on a quiet basis without complete plans of the house and all information we can see from the surveillance. I want this place more than I want to reduce it to ash. That will take patience.”
Johnny put a hand on Cala’s. “Have you kept track of Jay’s crew who they did put in jail? When they get free, they will be unpredictable.”
“Neil claimed they’ll be in custody awaiting trial. He’ll update us if they get free on bail,” Nick answered. “You can rest assured they will stay quiet for a time. We have their names and the addresses they’re staying at. Let me give that some thought. We don’t want to piss off Neil, but those guys in police custody could be in contact with Fernando on a daily basis depending on how scared they are. All calls are monitored so the pros won’t contact them unless they get out of jail.”
“So naturally we wouldn’t want to wait for those two to get out of jail, right?”
“Are you second guessing my sixth sense, Payaso?”
Gus smiled. “Yeah. I think you’ll need to wait until those guys get out of jail and reveal the pros when they make contact. Have you considered the lawyer aspect, Muerto?”
“Damn it!”
“Heh…heh… forgot all about lawyers passing notes, huh Muerto?”
“Cala! You’ve only had one sip. We need a driver. I’ll splice into the ‘bangers’ lawyer. We’ll go get them as the ‘Unholy Trio’. Gus is absolutely right. A lawyer bought by Carone will have passed the info to his boss and the pros. My bad – let’s hit the laptops and find out who represents these punks. We go tonight, take him in a safe zone, and bleed him dry. Thanks, Gus.”
Cala had pushed away her drink. “Yes! Cleaner to the rescue!”
Chapter Two
Mother Ship
Lance Botorf relaxed in his chair of omnipotence. The chair brought him good luck. It was a state of the art chair. It tilted, vibrated, and practically put him on his feet when he needed to stand. Maury told him just now how valuable his simple report had been, cementing in his huge payday on this case. It was a simple interaction. He reported to a guy comically named Biff, who acted as the intermediary to the guy Lance already accepted an envelope of money from. This was the way it was supposed to be. It had been a simple matter to get the boys out on bail. They would be released tomorrow morning. The men he had dealt with stayed locally at a motel in Pacific Grove. The only thing left in what he needed to do was get the charges reduced to petty theft with the DA’s acceptance. Done deal. He sipped his drink with the pleasurable feeling of success. He had bills to pay with a wife who couldn’t accept a simple office romance, and a couple of kids who looked at him when he took time to see them as if he arrived from off planet. One moment he watched the movie he had put in, and the next he had three black clad figures in front of him, one with a clown face. He was deathly afraid of clowns. The clown leaned in suddenly close to his face. Lance passed out.
* * *
“Oh for God’s sake,” Gus mumbled.
“Nice one, Payaso,” Nick said, while taking Botorf’s pulse, shaking his head mournfully. “He’s gone. Oh my, Payaso, that was just… disturbing.”
Having been around Nick long enough to know a prank, Gus began slapping Botorf into consciousness, ignoring the hoots and hollers from Nick and Johnny of outrage over his brutal treatment of the prisoner. “C’mon, Lance. Wake the hell up, you pussy!”
“I never thought to see the infamous Payaso in his natural state like this, Kabong. He is truly a vicious entity of brutality.”
“I must agree, Muerto,” Johnny carried on the banner of outrage.
“Fuck you two!” Gus managed to get a slow shivering ascendance into consciousness from Lance. “Wake up, Lance! If you fade on me one more time, I will cut your dick off and stick it down your throat!”
“I will save you from the bad clown, Lance.” Nick waved Gus away. “To make sure my partner Payaso doesn’t get his hands on you, we need to straighten a few things out. Why don’t you talk us through your defense of the two young gangbangers named Nano Calista and Doug Morgan? Did you get them a release date already?”
“Tomorrow… at 10 am. How did you get into my house? It has-”
“Shut up,” Gus told him. “Who paid you to represent those two turds? Remember this, Lance: you hate clowns. I hate lawyers. If you don’t want me to play with you, we need answers.”
>
“I…I can’t disclose anything about the case or who pays me.”
“Yes, you can, Lance,” Nick said, “or we’re going to torture you until you do. We need a demo, Payaso. Lance needs to do the dance electric.”
Gus stun-gunned Botorf for a short but pain filled moment in his groin area. He jackknifed off his chair into a fetal position on the hardwood floor. Gus kicked him in the side, leaning again into the gasping Lance’s face, while pulling the man’s shirt to get him closer.
“I will light you up for ten seconds next time! Your dick will retreat all the way into your chest.”
“Biff… Cantor… and Ray Genaro! Oh God… I’m dyin’!”
“Not yet, Lance,” Nick told him, patting his face. “Where can we find Biff and Ray?”
“At… the Sea Breeze motel. Who…who are you people? How can you be doing these things? I’m just a lawyer hired to represent two defendants. I have to do my job.”
Nick grabbed Lance’s chin in his previously gloved hands. “We know what you are and what you’ve been doing. We checked. You’re a good lawyer, but your moral compass sucks. Here’s what will happen. You’re out of it. You got those two punks off. Stay the hell away from this now. If you call anyone to warn them or you have anything to do with mob business, we’ll be back. They won’t get us, but we will get you.”
Gus jammed a sleepy-time shot into Lance’s neck. “Did I tell you guys I hate lawyers?”
“Yeah. I think you’ve mentioned it a few dozen times, Payaso,” Nick replied. “So much so, Johnny and I are outlawing you from mentioning lawyers. You got burned one time in conjunction with the legal system and you’ve been raw for a decade. Make the sign of the cross and move on, brother.”
Even Gus chuckled at Nick’s reprimand. He shrugged. “I admit it. Lance will be out for a while. Should we tie and gag him too?”
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