“I…I’m sorry. Moreau was killed by an assassin, rumored to be Nick McCarty. Majd remembered McCarty’s name from my confrontations with his daughter, Jean. He tracked all of the news stories about McCarty killing relatives of the Kader family, first in defense of Dimah Kader, a teacher at the school. Majd immediately contacted the Kader family, learning McCarty killed many of their family members, including three sent by the family only a short time ago. Then… five male members of the Kader family were executed, supposedly by Isis operatives. Majd knew that not to be true. He informed our mentor, Saran Al-Kadi of what was going on.”
“If the Kader family hired the assassins as we’ve heard, what could kidnapping Jean have to do with the Kader’s wanting Nick dead?”
“I don’t know the… details. The Kader family agreed with Al-Kadi to contact Sohail and Javid who Saran knew to be in New York. He used Majd to act as an intermediary. The Kaders were promised McCarty would die once he carried out an assassination for Al-Kadi on a Saudi prince financing Al-Qaeda named Rabiah Al-Saud. The Kaders agreed to Al-Kadi’s terms, paying for all expenses incurred. My husband thought he could corner Jean away from the school on a pretense of meeting with the principal. He didn’t know McCarty had driven her to school. He thought it the perfect time because Majd saw Jean and her friend alone.”
“Why didn’t he try to have you approach Jean, or at least wait until she was alone?”
Flo’s facial features showed momentary annoyance at my question. “Jean’s never alone. She also is a very irritable child. She suspects everything. Majd gets impatient. I tried to convince him I could coax her over to the street where our driver could have arrived in seconds to pick her up. I would wave at the vehicle as it left, pretending Jean had to go quickly, and then tell anyone who asked that she had an emergency at home. Majd became angry, insisting she was only a girl, and he would handle it. We would never have tried such a thing with either parent present. Jean’s mother wanted to beat me up the other day in anger. I know now McCarty is a killer. He was about to execute all three men until realizing there were witnesses.”
“Wow!” I chuckled. “If these idiots weren’t so dangerous, they would be laughable, Crue. Al-Kadi thought he could enlist Nick, the now foremost assassin in the world, to do a hit on a Saudi prince by kidnapping his daughter? Oh my… we should enter you geniuses in the ‘Darwin Awards’ this year.”
“Kabong told me a story about some idiot gangster who sent two hired guns into a restaurant to collect Nick for an assassination,” Lynn added. “Nick went with them, his .45 Colt pointed at their heads, to meet the boss. He pretended interest in the assassination until finding out who the target was and then Nick killed them all. It’s a wonder there are any Kaders left.”
“We’ll run it by Nick. If we can get your new acting converts to arrange the meeting with Al-Kadi together, using the pretext Nick had killed all the ones sent after him, but was interested in the job he tortured out of them, Al-Kadi might take the meeting without hesitation.”
“But…but he didn’t kill… oh…oh no! Please don’t kill me! I will help! I can-”
“Shut your pie-hole, Flo! Let me think.” Lynn walked around the table to my side. “I like it, DL. Nick’s no fool. If there’s a flaw in our thinking he’ll find it. We’re going to be busy today. My curiosity is aroused. We have three more Pilot Hill compound frequenters. Let’s put our Flo in the holding cell up here and get started on the bad boys. I’ll make sure Nick’s journey into darkness will be as safe as we can arrange it.”
“Agreed.”
“You…you’re going to kill my husband?” Flo was slow on the upswing.
“No, dear Flo, we’re going to send your husband and his two scumbag friends to Disneyland,” Lynn retorted. “Now, shut up while DL gets you on your feet. One more question – your driver, Jack Gichki, was detained by the Pacific Grove police. Who is he and what does he have to do with your operation?”
“Jack is a close friend of my husband’s. He does anything my husband tells him to do. They fought together in Syria.”
“I’ll pass that on to Nick the moment I get Flo into holding, Lynn.”
I saw a slight smile flit across her face until Flo noticed I was staring at her. “If we learn bad things about Jack you should have told us I will ask Dr. Deville to skin you alive. We haven’t done a filleting for a long time.”
“And my knives are a little dull,” Lynn added.
“I meant nothing by it! Jack is a stone cold killer. He was under orders to act stupid no matter who talked with him from the police, but to do what they said without question. That is the only way the police could have captured him. Jack will kill McCarty.”
“Oh… DL,” Lynn grabbed my arm. “Quickly! Call Nick. He’s in danger from the big bad Jack.”
Lynn and I enjoyed that one for a while, as I unstrapped Flo.
Chapter Nine
Pilot Hill Preliminary
“Stop here.”
Neil smiled in the rear view mirror at his former prisoner Jack Gichki. He had asked to be let out at the Sea Breeze Motel as listed on the arrest warrant. “Stay out of trouble, Mr. Gichki, and don’t leave town.”
“Where are my friends?”
“As I told you, federal custody.”
“What of McCarty? Has he been arrested for the Kader murders?”
“No. Mr. McCarty had an alibi and I received solid information the Kaders ran afoul of an Isis group.”
“That is a lie! We both know the truth. McCarty killed them!”
Neil kept a professional tone and posture. “We’re looking into all possibilities, Mr. Gichki. You drove a vehicle plotted to be used in the kidnapping of Mr. McCarty’s daughter. If I were you, I’d stay away from Marshal McCarty.”
“It would be very wise for McCarty to stay away from me. I will find my friends.”
“You have the FBI Agent’s card. Call in a day or so,” Neil said. “Have a nice evening. Your court time is 10 am tomorrow morning. Do not be late.”
“I will be there. I did nothing. I drove my friend’s vehicle as requested. You should be pursuing the murderer McCarty instead of harassing and profiling Muslims.”
“Whenever you Muslims stop kidnapping children from their schools, I’ll pursue some other avenue of criminality. Until then, I’ll be forced to keep arresting you actual perpetrators.” Neil drove away, leaving Gichki cursing under his breath.
* * *
Gichki hurried to his room. He knew Al-Kadi would be waiting to receive word from Majd. Gichki played the dummy as instructed - open mouthed surprise at every question, and a shrug of the shoulders for an answer. Jack prayed he would get a chance to kill McCarty. It gave him pause that McCarty handled Nazari, Bhatti, and Kamboh like children. Jack would kill him from a distance.
He opened his apartment door. As he walked into the room, Jack felt something at ankle level and tripped. Falling forward to the carpet on his hands and knees, he felt the smooth surface of plastic. A knee, in the small of his back, drove him onto his chest and face. He felt the wire cut into his throat, severing everything in its path. Gichki choked, his blurring vision and convulsing body heralding Jack’s last moments on earth. Tongue protruding from nearly severed head, the tension was released, allowing Gichki’s head to drop forward to the black and red plastic surface.
* * *
Nick gathered his razor wire garrote from around Gichki’s neck, carefully slipping it forward from under the dead man’s head. “Perfect trip, guys.”
Gus gathered in their trip wire from Johnny. Gus took digital pictures, fingerprints and a DNA swab for filing with CIA, where Gichki’s death would be catalogued, but remain secret. His two friends wrapped Gichki in the black tarp and duck taped it tightly to make sure no blood escaped. They transferred the wrapped body to a large moving trunk on large casters. Nick had already packed Gichki’s bags. The weekday patronage at the Sea Breeze was minimal. Gus drove his Ford SUV in front of the room. In moments
, the three men packed away everything from the room, including the deceased. Johnny added the final touch. He resembled Gichki slightly. With ball-cap in place, hoodie covering it, and sunglasses on, Johnny entered the office to turn in his room cards, complementing the staff for their service. The woman behind the counter took the cards with a small smile of acceptance.
“Thank you, Mr. Gichki. We hope to see you again.”
“If ever I am in the area, I will certainly stay here. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Sir.”
Johnny exited the motel office and entered the front seat of Gichki’s Toyota Camry which Nick drove. “Did you leave a tip, Muerto?”
“Of course and Gichki was no cheapskate. It was nice of the Dark Lord to worry about us. I assured him we had not forgotten about our innocent driver. Neil’s boss was the one who made the decision not to send the driver with the rest of the pack because Nazari claimed he had merely hired Gichki.”
“Do you think we should have questioned Gichki?”
“Lynn milked the other four so thoroughly I doubt we could have discovered anything new. This way, Jack disappears without a trace, misses his court date, and when they come to collect him, the cops or whomever find his place vacated completely. Neil will be off the hook. The staff here will only remember a nice guy who left a big tip. Case closed. On to our Toyota Camry rebirth. Did Jerry say whether now was a good time?”
“He said he would be at the shop for the next few hours,” Johnny answered. “Did you check the registration?”
“It’s Jack’s. Jerry may have to part it out. I brought his pay envelope. We have to hurry. Payaso will be whining if we leave the dead body in his new Ford very long. Cala doesn’t have to hurry the prep work. No one will miss Jack. His friends will be dead. Lynn said she will handle all the reeducation points with Nazari’s wife before they drop Flo back with her parents in LA. The first call will be to resign her teaching position. We’ll go over and clean out her apartment tonight too. We may find some extra items of interest there. The rest of the crap we’ll dump at a Goodwill Store. If all Flo the dip-shit has are different colored burkas we’ll get rid of them too.”
“You are thinking all four should disappear, huh Muerto?”
“I admit I’m as sick of the enablers as I am of the Islamist scum terrorizing the world. Flo embraces life as a slave, draped in a tent so no one ever sees her, enables any Muslim man to beat her, arrest her, throw acid in her face for any reason, or simply stone her to death. Flo has no rights and no clue, but she had no hesitation going into a public school to brainwash kids into a murderous cult. You tell me, Johnny. I have my thoughts on it, but I’m willing to go along with Dr. Deville and the Dark Lord. It will be easy to cover the disappearance of the others. Flo going bye/bye might attract a bit too much attention.”
Johnny smiled. “We can always go get her later.”
“Exactly, brother.”
* * *
We worked Nazari first. Clint and I strapped him in after the minions brought Majd to us. We never took chances with strangers. Our ploys in the interrogation room sometimes produced humor, but we never forgot these prisoners’ histories of violence. One misjudgment or loss of concentration could end in death for one of us Monsters. A casualty away from combat always means an error made, especially here in the House of Pain. Lynn kills without thought, but errors happen even to professionals. If errors happen at Pain Central, two or three killers backed any play made. By this time most prisoners, after seeing Lynn’s interrogation videos, beg to help us. Nazari wasn’t one of them.
“Dead boy called,” Clint said. “The very dangerous Jack Gichki sleeps with the fishes.”
We spent a few seconds in humorous appreciation of Clint’s Nick McCarty report. Lynn, a huge Godfather movie fan, loves anything related to the dialogue. Nazari didn’t like what he’d heard. Apparently, Majd was a Godfather fan too. He understood the reference to his man Gichki being dead. I could tell he was stunned for the first time. I grinned at Clint.
“I think Majd thought his boy Jack could take Muerto.”
“You lie!” Majd lost concentration. For a moment Nazari thought he was in an Isis meeting. Lynn zapped his balls with her stun-gun she always keeps with her.
Lynn waited until the screams and shock faded. She pinched his cheek. “We don’t take shit from Isis Munchkins. Would you like to shoot your mouth off again?”
“How…how can you do this? Those torture videos… they cannot be real! Jack… he was the most dangerous man I ever knew.”
“Against who? Most of you bad boys, like those two awaiting their turn in here, are all women killers.” Lynn leaned over Nazari. “I’ll bet your buddy Jack liked to knife little girls and cut the throats of shackled guys, huh?”
When Majd remained silent, looking away from Lynn, she started laughing. “I knew it. Clint. Show Majd how Nick fixed good old Jack.”
Clint showed Nazari the pictures Gus forwarded to us of Gichki lying in a pool of his own blood. “On one hand, your buddy Jack is a lot luckier than you. He died quick. You won’t be. I’ll watch the baby while you two show Majd all the ways he’s going to help us. Call me when you need me, DL. Let John and I take care of Sohail and Javid once you finish with Majd, Babe. They won’t know much more than our big timer here.”
“I’ll think about it. Let me see what I can learn from Majd. I’ll decide then whether to-”
“I will make a deal!” Majd twisted in the head harness. “I see you people will carry this game out to the end. Guarantee my safe return to Saudi Arabia and I will tell you anything you want to know.”
“Oh my… you are a slow learner. Go on with the baby, Hon. Put in the needles, DL. Let’s show Majd what’s behind the other door that’s not his safe return to Saudi Arabia.”
“No!” Majd tried to make it difficult for me to insert the acupuncture needles into his heels. We redesigned the foot restraints each time we did an interrogation at first, but we found a combination of reinforced Velcro straps that easily held the feet immovable we were satisfied with.
I inserted the needles. Our needle clips now fit over the needles with thumbscrew tightness to our heat and electrical jolt machine.
“Wait… okay… I will tell you everything!”
Lynn patted his face. “Yes… you certainly will. Light him up, Cheese.”
Normally, Lynn treated her patients in three minute intervals of hell. She gave Majd a five minute dose of hot foot hell after I stuck the pad in his mouth to keep him from biting his own tongue off. When Lynn finished with Majd, we knew a lot about his relationship with Al-Kadi. He also confirmed our suspicions about the Pilot Hill compound’s purpose. Any imports from Carone’s ship Tempest would be quietly handled through the Marina in Monterey. Infiltrators would be passed through Nazari’s house and on to Pilot Hill. The weapons, drugs, and human trafficking were to be transferred back and forth in the same way. Al-Kadi trusted Nazari to run the operation as a middle man; but to our relief, Majd confirmed that Carone ran the operation from the ocean to Pilot Hill.
Clint joined me to transfer the nearly insane Nazari to a restraint chair. We needed to learn every detail about the compound from Sohail Bhatti and Javid Kamboh. They had lived there for a time. With Nazari completely under Lynn’s control, we would use him as a confirming witness to anything his two companions said. Bhatti wanted no part of it. The minions had to zap him twice with the cattle prod to get him in with us. Sylvio gave him a full thirty seconds of the juice to get him on the table after he crashed to the floor trying to resist. I picked him up and jammed his ass down on the table finally. We strapped him into our rocket ship to hell. This murderer knew what awaited him. He believed the videos.
We all knew well what horrors Bhatti and Kamboh visited upon humanity during their putrid lives. Bhatti began crying when he saw Nazari in the observation chair. Apparently, Bhatti recognized the face of insanity due to torture. Nazari began yipping in short quiet barks until Lynn slapped h
im in the back of the head. Bhatti blubbered out phrases about being duped, led astray, blackmailed, threatened, used against his will, and finally at the end as we let him ramble the poor boy screamed out for his mama. Lynn and I recognized the jargon. Isis fighters captured by the Kurds begged in the same manner. Bhatti would get the same leniency those guys received from the Kurds. Lynn spent the next thirty minutes defining pain for Bhatti. No questions were asked and no quarter given. Sohail Bhatti began hallucinating after fifteen minutes.
“I think we have you nice and toasty now Sowhat.” Lynn nicknamed him for our amusement. “Let’s start with an easy one. Majd told us the names of everyone involved with this network between the ship Tempest and Pilot Hill. Most are already dead and others soon will be. What was compartmentalized according to him is the identity of the major Kader family member who sent you and your buddy, Java. We don’t want to wait until Al-Kadi is in our hands. We want the name now.”
“Yes… I will tell you!” Instead, Bhatti began to cry again.
Lynn gave him thirty seconds of electric sheep to count. “Save the tears for someone that gives a shit. Name, please?”
“Eliah! Eliah Kader…” Bhatti passed out.
“Did you get that, Clint?”
“I heard,” Clint said from our meeting room with the kids. “I’ll make the call.”
* * *
Nick answered on the first ring. He wrote on his upstairs deck. Jean and Sonny across from him did their homework. Deke sprawled over Nick’s shoes while Rachel sat next to him, editing his already completed work. Quinn slept in a rocker between Rachel and Nick.
“Dead Boy… the man in New York is Eliah Kader,” Clint said. “How are you doing, brother?”
“Five by five, brother. Thanks for the name. Do I have enough time to go see my friend in New York?”
“I’m afraid not. Although it appears your intro to Al-Kadi should go smoothly, he’ll be getting suspicious because his connection to the Tempest is gone. Lynn has Fernando and Senta rehearsed to provide you with an Academy Award winning performance covering an emergency repositioning of the ship.”
Red Horizon Page 21