“You’re wound a little tight, Dark Lord,” Casey said, patting my shoulder, while Lucas and Denny showed their ID’s to the stunned bar people.
“You going to fight him again, John?”
“If he ever shuts his pie hole long enough, I’d consider it, Jess.” Yeah, I’m still a little steamed. “I know Fiialkov didn’t sign off on him pestering me here after the fight.”
“I didn’t see Fiialkov in the crowd anywhere for the Slayer fight. He would have been in the front rows,” Devon said. “Maybe that’s the reason Big O thought he could get away with this stunt.”
“I’m no expert on this UFC stuff,” Casey remarked, as Lucas and Denny walked back over and sat down, “but damn, it doesn’t seem like a great idea to piss off a guy you’re getting into a closed cage with.”
“Thanks, John. We didn’t need that,” Denny added.
I was cooling down quickly, as I began imagining all the downsides to what I nearly did. “Yeah, I didn’t handle that very well. It’s kind of a carryover from O’s big mouth after my last fight, but there’s no excuse for me nearly losing it in here. Sorry guys.”
Lucas handed me another double beam. “Sip this, enjoy the view, and let’s keep this celebration going. Can you even see out of that eye?”
I chuckled and sipped my Beam. “A small slit is about all. I’ll have to put a bag over my head before the girls see me. Al will think I got Gronked.”
That drew some laughter. “Do you still think we should hang around here for a couple days, Den, or head back to the coast?”
“I think it would be a good idea to get the hell out of here if things work out the way I hope they do, John. I’ll monitor how many of the rats scurry out of town tomorrow, and make sure we’re clear with the local PD and FBI. Clint’s takedown of those four drive-by jokers in the car the other day will need my personal touch to close up. I’m meeting with the local authorities tomorrow. It’s a formality to make them feel like they haven’t been left out of anything. I’ll text all of you once I know for sure how many of the guys we’ve encountered here stay behind. Darzi’s bunch left this morning with his body. We’ll see who goes home from the Slayer’s crowd. Everyone who had Samira in their sights is either dead, on the way to Gitmo, or on the plane back to the Middle East.”
“Are you going to have Clint puzzling out the boat gig?” Lucas asked.
Denny nodded. “Yeah, I sent him the files on the Gulf disappearances to get started on. I hope he can figure out the next target. That shit is strange as hell. I’ve had some very good people in analysis working on it, but they’re coming up with nada.”
“What I’d like to know is how you’re going to get The Sea Wolf out of port past Lucas if Clint does solve the mystery,” Casey observed, generating laughter and a snarl from Lucas.
“One impossible task at a time, Case,” Denny replied. “We’ll have to do an A-Team on him like they do to B.A. Baracus in the movie when they need him on a plane. I’ll have Montoya stick him when he least expects it. He’ll wake up out at sea. We’ll probably have to keep him handcuffed though until we need him.”
Lucas jabbed a finger into Denny’s chest while the rest of us laughed. “Oh, you’re a funny man, Denny. We need better intel so we don’t need my boat. We can send one of those new drones after whatever it is Clint finds.”
“I’m sorry, Lucas, but this cruise is mandatory for The Sea Wolf,” Denny replied. “We’ll have drone backup for the Wolf, but this is going to require a personal touch, including prisoners if possible.”
“I like the idea of getting out of here anyway,” I said, standing up. “I want to help Clint and Lynn get settled in wherever they like. Sorry about this, but I think I’m calling it a night. I’ll walk Jafar and Samira back to their room.”
“We’ll take care of them, John,” Lucas told me. “Casey and I need to get back with our girls too anyway.”
“Me and Jess will walk with you guys,” Devon said. “That’s enough excitement for tonight. We’ll have a beer with everyone on The Sea Wolf when we get back to the coast.”
Even Lucas chortled a little at Devon’s dig. “In your dreams, meat!”
Jesse started to speak, but Lucas cut him short with one gesture. “One more ‘let a brother cruise’ and I cap your ass right here in the bar, Jess!”
Chapter Fourteen: Date Up North
Lora opened our room door with a smile that quickly turned into a gasp of horror. “Oh my God, John!”
Casey and Lucas were snickering behind me. Lora grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. I gestured the guys inside with me. Jafar and Samira walked out from where they had been watching TV with Al. Samira put an arm around Al while cringing at the sight of me. Jafar, who knew what I would look like, patted Al’s shoulder.
“It is as I explained, Al,” Jafar said. “John won, but he will be a bit bruised.”
Al peered up at me from around Samira’s arm. “I don’t know, Jafar. He looks like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs stomped him with pickaxes.”
After the laughter died down, Casey and Lucas stood by the door ready to escort Jafar and Samira to their room. Before she left, Samira reached up to pat my cheek. “Do not let Grumpy near your eye tonight, John.”
“Oh no… you did not just refer to me as a bad tempered dwarf!” Lora went for her. I caught her up in my arms as Samira squealed, running out the door between Casey and Lucas. There was again much laughter.
* * *
“Hey!” Lynn slapped Clint’s shoulder as she looked over his shoulder. “You made me a blonde again. I thought I’d go with the redhead look. That Kosygin broad is blonde and blue-eyed. Tara Holt’s brown haired. Don’t you think I need to be different?”
Dostiene looked up from the lawyer he was in the process of building up from grade school through Harvard, and into a CIA front firm in Los Angeles as a partner. “I want that same woman who spiked Darzi in the elevator and won a fortune with a bored look on her face at Baccarat. Babe, you were so good, those three won’t know what hit them. They’ll probably want to adopt you into their killing sprees. You pulled that off so well in Las Vegas, I doubt you could do any better. That is exactly the attitude you need to pull this off.”
“I did have a very effective dry run for the character. I can’t argue with you on that. It fit me perfectly. You, on the other hand, just want a blonde.” Lynn turned away, her arms folded. “I’m not sure I can put up with that kind of disrespect.”
They were in a La Quinta motel in Bakersfield, having stopped so as to give Tonto a good workout from the long car ride. They weren’t in any hurry. Denny left all the files on suspected disappearances in the Gulf, along with the information on the LA law firm Lynn would be pretending to work for. Clint had also put together a complete background dossier covering the last few years, providing Lynn with time spent on the company’s legal dealings in Europe, France in particular. Clint ran his hands up the inside of her thin black silk slip.
“Okay, you got me. Your act at the casino not only roped in Darzi, it completely wasted me,” Clint admitted in French. “How is your French by the way?”
Montoya groaned, her hands dropping to her sides. She answered in French, “Not as good as yours. I… I just took a shower. We have to take Tonto out again. He’s been dropping his Frisbee on my foot every five seconds.”
Clint looked down and laughed. Tonto stared up at him with his black Frisbee clamped between his teeth. When he saw Clint looking at him, he dropped it on Lynn’s bare foot.
“Oh thanks, now I’ve been slimed. Does my knowing French have something to do with this op?”
“Yep. I needed a place where you’ve been working the last few years in case they wonder why they haven’t seen you around. You can do a bored Baccarat shrug, and tell them you’ve been working for your firm’s office in France. Do it in French, and they’ll bite like big trout. I know you speak Spanish. You’ll be so impressive, I doubt a law question will even get asked.”
&
nbsp; “Erin Reeves, huh? FBI Sam’s going to love you giving me his last name. I like it. Stop that, Clint!” Montoya slapped Dostiene’s hands away. When he reached for her again, Tonto intervened with a growl.
“Why you traitorous cur,” Clint whispered, grabbing Tonto’s head. “Don’t you dare side with her.”
Lynn dropped down to hug Tonto. “Don’t you threaten my dog. Tonto loves me. He knows I won’t make him do bad things.”
Clint smiled, changing screens to show Lynn what he had been doing for the name. “I had to find a Harvard Law Grad somewhat matching your description, who did not make it into the yearbook. Ms. Reeves dropped out of sight after graduation. It turns out she went on an Italian vacation to Rome after graduation. Erin married a pilot she met there after a whirlwind romance. They have three children. She will not be attending the reunion because Denny made sure of it by giving the family an all expense paid vacation to the Riviera during the Harvard reunion. Erin’s never practiced law anyway.”
“You guys don’t miss a beat. With these three, it’s probably a good thing. Do you really think they would check the background?”
Clint shook his head, looking up at the ceiling as if in prayer, which earned him a slap in the back of his head. He laughed. “Lynn, think about it. They’re planning a torture murder on their home turf just to get away with it. They plan to cower in a corner with the rest of their classmates, pretending they’re paralyzed in fear. They’ll be whooping it up when out of sight, knowing what they did. Believe me. Those three will give you an anal exam before they make their move.”
Lynn shrugged. “At some point they’ll see something they’ve never seen before. I will have my knife with me. If I see something in their features I don’t like, I will start carving. Promise me something, Clint.”
Dostiene stopped working the keyboard and looked up. “Anything, babe.”
“If they drug me without my knowing or letting you know it’s happening, I’ve changed my mind about waking up staked out in some cellar looking up at those three giggling goons. Let’s play that by ear. If you don’t hear me call you off, come in shootin’ partner. I didn’t like that dart in the neck back in Vegas.”
Clint stood up and embraced Lynn, holding her tightly. “Say the word and we’ll slice all three of them up and make it look like the serial killer did it. We don’t work for the FBI. Rather than lose you, Denny would walk in on those three at a party and shoot them all in the head. He only extends a courteous ‘bring them back alive helping hand’ to a certain point.”
Lynn sighed contentedly against Clint. “I’m still jazzed about getting them as we planned. I got a little on edge with the dart in the neck, and then Darzi in the elevator. That was a little more action than I’ve been accustomed to in a short time. Do I lose my psycho badge for this?”
“Nope, and I’m the only one that counts. Anytime you get a bad feeling about something, you let me know like you just did, and we’ll do a preemptive strike on whatever it is. I promise to do the same thing. I always go with my gut. The one time I didn’t I ended up as a resident down in a place you never want to go on vacation. When we go on that honeymoon cruise on The Sea Wolf, we’re going to enjoy ourselves, but that op better go down real smooth, or I start blasting. Only this time, I’ll have the deadliest crew ever assembled firing next to me.”
Clint held Montoya at arm’s length. “I’ll think of something once I know where our three Harvard preppies plan on staying. Put your jeans on while I send this file to Sam, and let’s get a beer while we play some Frisbee.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Clint went to the room refrigerator and retrieved the beers, sticking them into a small cooler bag he had bought, while Tonto danced and hopped all around him. When Lynn walked to the door with Tonto’s leash, Dostiene and Tonto followed with beer and Frisbee. They walked across to the landscaped patch bordering the parking lot, staying in the shade at one end of the narrow grassy patch. Clint flung the Frisbee for Tonto, who jetted under the disc, and plucked it out of the air. He pranced around chomping it while Clint and Lynn sipped their beers, laughing at the self congratulatory dog dance.
“I could get used to this,” Lynn remarked as Tonto arrived to drop his Frisbee on her feet. I’ve never just stood around sipping a beer while playing catch with a dog ever. It’s pretty neat.”
Lynn picked up the Frisbee and threw it admirably in a straight line.
“You’re a natural at this too, babe. John knows we want a nice place with a view, and some land for Tonto. No reason why we can’t sit on a step sippin’ and throwin’ real soon. We don’t always have to be psychos.”
Lynn giggled as Tonto arrived to deposit his disc. She threw it again. “We’ll lose our edge, cowboy.”
“You don’t know Denny very well. No one has time to lose anything around him. We’ll be fine. I’m with you. I like this a lot. It’s not that I haven’t had alone time with Tonto up at my place in the mountains, but even with scenery it can be pretty bleak.”
“It’s always tough to have anything in this world. Just about the time you start enjoying something you either lose it or someone tries to take it away.”
Clint started to disagree, and then chuckled. “Yep. I think you have a handle on it. I-”
A child’s scream, followed by crying turned the two around toward the parking lot direction it came from, and brought Tonto at a dead run to Clint’s side where he whined plaintively. Three rough looking men were draped around a new looking, silver Honda Accord. The driver looked as if he were in a heated discussion with them. The woman next to him hugged the crying child.
“Someone order thugs to interrupt our beer sippin’?”
Dostiene grinned over at her, and then down at Tonto. “Heel! Let’s just walk past, gabbing away, so we can see what’s going on.”
Clint set their beers on the ground. With Tonto in a position behind and slightly to the right of Clint, they walked over to the parking lot. “I guess this illustrates what you were saying, babe.”
“You don’t think these idiots are carjacking these people, do you?”
“Nope. I think they’re hitting them up for money, and they won’t take no for an answer.” Clint could hear the guy with a dark green bandanna over his head like a skull cap berating the driver. The driver for his part held his hands up in placating form while leaning away from the driver’s window.
“Did you bring anything non-lethal,” Lynn asked. “I know you tucked your forty-five under your shirt. I have my knife.”
“Sort of,” Clint replied, smiling and chuckling as they reached the rear of the Honda. “I brought Tonto the wonder dog. Besides, I haven’t seen anything you’ve ever done in a non-lethal manner with that knife, babe.”
Lynn giggled as Tonto perked up. The two men to the rear of their companion with his face in the driver’s window straightened while turning to face Clint and Lynn. They had Los Angeles Dodger baseball caps stuck on sideways with the cap bills over their ears. One was black, clean shaven with his arms tattooed all the way up inside his black sleeveless t-shirt. The other was white with a goatee, trimmed to a point, also sporting tats up his bare arms inside the dirty slate gray t-shirt he had on. Both men were nearly Clint’s height, but stocky, and heavily muscled. Their leader noticed the interruption and looked up while still leaning with both hands clamped over the window opening. Besides the green bandanna and sunglasses, the negotiator was olive skinned, with a drooping mustache and black beard stubble. His tats were showing more under a black strapped t-shirt with a skull on the front.
“Hi there,” Clint said, still sporting a big smile. The family inside the car stared up at him with terrified, but hopeful expressions. “We heard the little guy crying. Are you three here to see what’s making him cry too?”
The three thugs did their snorting, hand over the mouth gyrations for a moment. Mustache man waved Clint off. “Yeah, man. We got this covered. These folks just needed directions. Now why d
on’t you and Lindsey Lohan get the fuck away before you get hurt!”
Dostiene heard the familiar, but unmistakable swishing click before Lynn was around him and the point of her knife nearly embedded in Mustache man’s throat, causing the stunned thug to back up on his tip toes against the Accord. Tonto made his presence known when Mustache man’s companions stirred. They stopped dead in their tracks when Tonto let out a low rumbling growl from his belly up through the open mouthed drooling fangs he showed them.
“What did you call me, Skippy?” Lynn moved the tip of her knife in a gentle oscillation without easing the pressure. Blood began to form around the tip.
“Noth…nothing!”
Clint could tell Mustache man was impressed after looking into Lynn’s eyes. He had seen that ‘no one home’ look before in Montoya’s features. Knowing how all this would end without the potential victims’ help, Clint asked them for their input.
“Would you folks like to press charges? We’ll stay with you until the police come. My partner and I are with the FBI.” Clint showed them one of his many legitimate ID’s. In country, the FBI special agent badge and ID was the only one he carried with him on his person. “It would mean a lot if you did press charges. This is not the first time these three have attacked innocent people before.”
There was a heated discussion in the vehicle. Lynn, meanwhile, smiled enticingly at Mustache man, her knife and hand never wavering. The wife overcame her husband’s objections. He turned to Clint. “We’ll press charges, Sir. Thank God you and your partner came when you did. We only had a little cash, and they were angry about it.”
“Good enough. Gentlemen. Let me have your attention. You will all kneel with hands locked behind your heads. Hesitate to follow my orders, and Tonto here will eviscerate you. He’s not patient enough for restraining people, so we don’t really bark out orders at him. It makes him nervous. Watch him closely while doing what I tell you. If he stops growling, freeze, because that means you’re making a movement he doesn’t like. Everyone but Skippy nod your heads if you understand.”
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 51