“You hear that, Tonto?” Clint shook Tonto’s snout, but the dog seemed intent on taking up his previous tickling attacks. The phone rang as Clint wrestled with Tonto. Lynn got up to answer it, wagging her butt in Clint’s face on the way by.
Lynn saw on the caller ID it was Lora. “Dostiene and Montoya residence, boss.”
“I just got told by Al she wants to be like me, ordering people around.”
“It is a better job description than mine, boss. Do you have new orders for the dynamic duo and their rabid dog?”
“Tonto’s been getting you again, huh?”
Lynn glared over at Tonto. He sat up attentively, raising his paw. “Yeah, I thought I had him bonding to my every wish, but he was just baiting me. His master pulls the same crap on me. Every time I think I’m making progress in their training, they backslide.”
“Uh huh, same here at the Dark Lord’s abode. This happened faster than we thought. I sent out digitals and the most recent alias of Katy Scarpatha everywhere with BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit), the bus stations, and train stations. An agent working the desk at the Jack London Square Amtrak station spotted our Katy getting off the train. She paid cash for a ticket East using a bogus ID, but it doesn’t leave for another hour. John’s meeting with Alexi and his new fighter at The Warehouse with Tommy along. The only other two capable are Lucas and Casey. They’re already set to meet up with Denny.”
“Say no more. We’ll take it. I’d love to meet a real female contract killer. I thought John already had a UFC fight coming up pretty soon.”
“He does, but when Fiialkov calls, John meets. Call if you need backup. I’ll locate John and send him.”
“Will do. Talk at you later, boss.”
“Brat!” Lora ended the call.
Lynn turned to Clint who had been listening intently. “We have Katy Scarpatha over at the Jack London train station. Want to go practice our woodcraft?”
“If you promise not to act like we’re going for a stroll around the block. You’re getting too cocky, babe. While entertaining, that shoe-boy thing was a risky and wrong-headed thing to do.”
Montoya went from playful relaxed mode to instant eyes narrowing surprise. “C’mon, Clint, I outed those suckers better than any of you boys could have in a public place.”
Clint walked over and embraced her, his obvious attraction for his true blood mate easing any angst Lynn had at his criticism. “I’m hoping we have a long road ahead of us. John intercepted that team’s back up enforcement just before he would have aced you. I’ve been in the game a lot longer than you. I don’t issue warnings just to piss you off.”
Lynn returned Clint’s feverish and groping embrace. “I know you care. We’re not going to live forever or die in our bed, cowboy. You took off from Laredo’s base across the border to take on an entire convoy. How come I get crap for a little baiting exercise, but you can play one man army without any critique allowed from me?”
Clint pinned her against the bedroom wall. “Because the convoy was the price to bring you with me forevermore. I love you. I want to ride this wave of ours beyond some rock wall. It’s so good I just don’t want to lose you on a whimsical fuckup.”
The next fifteen intense minutes allowed the couple only ten minutes to spare before the eastbound train arrived that Scarpatha would be taking. Clint and Lynn joked and laughed on their way into the station, holding day bags for an imaginary trip. Clint spotted Scarpatha within minutes of entering the building. He also knew it was a trap. Dead silence and frightened looks graced the faces of all the people he could see. Dostiene did not reason, nor did he hesitate. He picked up Lynn under his arm and darted directly for the door. Gunfire erupted around him, as screams and cascading bullets shattered glass and ricocheted behind the weaving Dostiene and his burden.
Outside the building, Clint was on his feet, weapon in hand, and murder across his features. His first shot hit one of the couple’s attackers right between the eyes as the man started to follow Clint’s retreat. His second shot hit dead center mass on a gunman straightening from where he had been sitting next to a real train rider who dived to the floor. A scream to his left announced Lynn’s disappearance from his side. She gutted another would be gunman, his horrified features showing above Lynn’s devastating attack, while his weapon clattered to the floor. Montoya dived over the bank of seats, allowing her victim to collapse screaming, clutching at his bulging entrails.
Lynn’s attack, coupled with the screams of the gunman captured the attention of everyone but Clint. His next shot splattered the brain matter of a fourth shooter, the man’s last coherent moment a grim canvas of death. Katy Scarpatha, in the meantime, had played her part perfectly for the deadly trap. Seeing it shatter in an instant, she plunged a hand into her bag, hoping to clear her weapon in time to escape from the fiasco. The bloody blade at her throat stopped all motion instantly.
“Oh hell, girlfriend, go ahead and try to pull that piece,” Lynn whispered in her ear. “I’ll make sure that weapon pull of yours will be your last, but hey, go for it, baby.”
Scarpatha froze. She retracted her hand slowly from the bag, uncomfortable with the pressure Lynn was exerting on the blade at her throat. Blood began to ooze out around the blade. Scarpatha helplessly cringed back as the first trickle inched down her neck.
“Ah, sweety, don’t stop,” Lynn urged. “Go for it. I’ll make your neck into a gaping maw of blood. You’ll have to croak out whatever crap you have to say in your final words silently. I don’t give a shit. It’s all good.”
Clint in the meantime had reentered the building amidst screams and people diving to the floor, weapon up and ready for any out of place movement. He trekked in a shooter’s crouch to Lynn and Scarpatha. “Hey, babe, ask her if that’s all.”
This time Lynn knotted her hand in Scarpatha’s hair. “Answer Katy like your life depends on it! It does!”
“That’s all… no more!”
“Duck down here and put the muzzle on her head,” Lynn directed, forcing Scarpatha to the floor.
Clint grinned, as he followed Lynn’s order. He was happy to see she took nothing for granted. A contract killer is not to be taken lightly. Lynn plastic tied Scarpatha’s wrists behind her back. They picked Scarpatha up, propelling her around the room. Satisfied, they had done for the hit team, Clint called Lora.
“Hi, Clint, are you two in position?”
“We’re better than that. It was a trap. We have four dead. Scarpatha is bound and unhurt, except for finding there are better monsters in the world than she is. It’s a mess. We have our FBI ID’s and we’re going to need them, and more.”
Lora didn’t waste time. “I’ll call Denny and John. Do what you can. Are you going to call your FBI couple?”
“Yep. No avoiding it. Talk when I can, Lora.” Clint disconnected, and called Sam Reeves, his FBI contact.
“Oh boy, Clint Dostiene. How many dead?”
“Four, but they were all bad.” Clint heard sirens in the background as Reeves groaned audibly in his ear. “We were taking a contract killer into custody named Katy Scarpatha. She was at the train station, but it was a trap to get me and Lynn.”
“You got Scarpatha?”
“Yep, and Lynn took her alive.”
“I’m in Sacramento. Janie and I can head your way if the police want more than a talk with me. Have them call me directly. I’ll make it a Homeland Security issue. Knowing you, it probably is, and I’m sure Strobert will want to question Scarpatha.”
“You can bet on that, Sam. We’ve already been attacked twice now, and a CIA operative taken hostage. I don’t believe in coincidences. My guess is this Scarpatha may be tied in with it. Our group on the West Coast is on the radar, and we’re getting hit. Denny and John thought this day would come after the attacks on John and Jafar’s houses – reason being we’re bringing these groups to the surface.”
“I get that Clint. What you and Montoya did for us with those Harvard serial killers was… ah h
ell, never mind. You call, we come. I know you’re on the right side of this, no matter how you got there.”
“I appreciate that, my friend.” Clint disconnected with a sigh of relief. Lynn watched him with a tight grip on the back of Scarpatha’s neck. “Sam and Janie are backing us up if need be, and we can give the cops Sam’s number. He'll cover our play.”
“Good to know. Hold on to my sweetie here.” Lynn gave over Katy to Clint. She checked on each one of the assassination team with care. When she finished making sure they were dead, including the one she disemboweled, Montoya walked around the room. “You can relax folks. I’m really sorry for this massive inconvenience. Please stand up. The Oakland police will arrive shortly to take your statements.”
Her announcement elicited a scramble of relieved would be train riders into a milling circle around Lynn, including the station workers. Montoya held up her hands in a calming motion. “Hey! Calm down. The police will be here shortly. Follow me over here away from the bad guys.”
Clint watched with grudging admiration as the crowd of a dozen people, two of them children, followed her without question, casting sidelong glances at the bodies they passed. He noticed she was busily trying to wipe off blood from her hands with a hanky in front of her. Clint wedged Scarpatha into a seat, and held out his FBI ID with both hands up as Oakland police officers approached in full armor over the shattered glass on the floor.
“I’m FBI Special Agent Clint Dostiene. All threats are over. Who can I speak to in charge?”
A Sergeant with Francona on his nametag approached Dostiene with slow deliberation. The lean, five foot eight police officer peered closely at Dostiene’s ID. “What’s this all about?”
“My partner and I were apprehending a contract killer wanted in connection with multiple murders when we were ambushed here in the station. We have numerous witnesses over there with Agent Montoya, who were being held hostage in the trap. I have my FBI superior’s number here if you would like to call him. This is Katy Scarpatha.”
“I recognize her from our briefing this morning,” Francona acknowledged as he looked more closely at Scarpatha. “I’m thinking you won’t want to hand this over to us locals so what do you have in mind?”
“Within the next few minutes a supervisor with Homeland Security will be calling in. In the meantime, I’ll put you on with my FBI superior so your bosses won’t think I’m some looney stringing you along.”
Francona nodded. “That sounds good to me. This is a mess.”
“Yeah it is.” Clint called back Reeves and handed the phone to Francona. A few minutes later the police officer handed the phone back.
“We have direction. Agent Reeves has already talked to your Homeland Security supervisor, Dennis Strobert, along with my Captain. We’ll handle the dead and the crime scene, including interviews. I’m to let you have Katy Scarpatha for Homeland Security to interrogate. Once I receive word from my Captain, I’ll let you and your partner take Scarpatha.”
Clint held out his hand and Francona shook it. He then took out his FBI business card, handing it to the police officer. “Thank you, Sir. That will be most helpful. I’m sorry to stick you with the aftermath of this cluster-fuck, but this is a bad one we have to move on right away.”
“Don’t worry about it. Can you walk me through this before you go?”
“Certainly.” Clint got Scarpatha on her feet, keeping a steel grip on her arm while doing a thorough retelling of what happened as Francona trailed with markers and another officer taking pictures. When they reached the curled up would be killer Montoya disemboweled, Francona looked up from the body at Clint in surprise.
“This guy’s been gutted.”
“We were surprised, and my partner had to move fast and silently to protect the bystanders,” Clint explained.
Francona turned his attention to Montoya, who was crouching near the kids in the witness group conversing amiably with them. Focusing again on Dostiene, he shook his head. “Man, I’ve never even heard of any law officer using a knife.”
“She would have cut my throat!” Scarpatha claimed, raising her head so Francona could see the dried blood at her throat. “My rights were violated!”
“What right? The right to take a train station full of people hostage while setting up an ambush to kill two federal agents?”
Francona grinned at Dostiene’s words. “Sorry, my compassion for contract killers is a little short today, Ma’am. Thanks for taking me through it, Agent Dostiene. Nice meeting you.”
“It’s been a pleasure working with you. I hope to not repeat anything like this again.”
“Yeah, that would be nice. I’ll just wave at you when my call comes in.”
“That’ll work.” Clint guided Scarpatha toward the exit, making eye contact with Montoya. She said her goodbyes to the witness group and joined him, smiling widely at Scarpatha.
“Oh my. Look who gets to join us for some quality time. How you doin’ girlfriend? I heard you all across the room about being unhappy with your apprehension. Clint and I will make it up to you, won’t we, partner?”
Clint saw Francona answer his phone and wave. “Yep. I’m certain you and Katy are going to be BFF’s in no time. Let’s go. We’re cleared.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Let’s keep that a surprise, girl.” Montoya put an arm around Scarpatha. “You don’t want all the fun and mystery to get blurted out in our first meeting.”
* * *
Comprehension followed by terror screamed through Scarpatha’s mind. She heaved backwards against Clint’s iron grip on her arm. She began fighting and twisting, dragging her feet. “You have to turn me over to the authorities!”
Katy heard an ominous click clacking sound. She felt and heard the slight swish of material parting at her jeans’ crotch. Scarpatha yelped and froze as something cold and metallic caressed the skin, pausing at her rectum. It stopped there. Sweat beaded out on her face, stinging her eyes with salty runoff. Her underarms stained her blouse as every muscle tensed to hold on to its stillness. She didn’t dare turn her head or speak. Scarpatha felt the whisper of hot breath at her ear. Blinking sweat and terrified tears, she heard Montoya giggle as if enjoying a humorous anecdote.
“Katy girl, is somethin’ wrong?” Lynn’s whisper made Scarpatha start to tremble. “I don’t think you understand your position in our little game. Let me explain the rules. You don’t speak, twitch, or move a muscle unless I tell you to. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a razor sharp nine inch blade shoved slowly up your ass, but honey, it’s an experience you won’t ever forget. If you don’t keep walking with us nice and quiet, Clint’s going to clamp your mouth, and I’m going to take your temperature. What do you think, Katy girl? You want to take another shot at obeying the rules.”
“Yes!” The word hissed out between Scarpatha’s lips. She felt the metallic coldness move away. Katy could not ever remember being afraid. Fear seemed inadequate to describe the horror she felt now. An arm encircled her shoulders as Lynn momentarily tilted her head against Scarpatha’s head with a sigh.
“I haven’t had anyone to play with for a long time, and you’re just the cutest thing.”
Katy felt Clint’s hand grip her arm, but she only moved forward at Lynn’s urging. These two would torture her without mercy and without hesitation. Scarpatha glanced over at Lynn’s smiling face with terrified certainty they would make her talk. She wondered if telling them the truth would save her. Lynn patted her shoulder with familiar friendliness. Scarpatha shuddered.
* * *
Denny drove by the house so we could ride together. He didn’t look in the mood to talk. We were on our way to pain central, where Clint and Lynn were entertaining Katy Scarpatha. I could tell by the way Strobert gripped the steering wheel his mind was processing threads outside the range of my knowledge. I had my suspicions we were in trouble. Someone decided my West Coast Murderers’ Row needed to be dealt with. None of the killers used for the train
station ambush were of Middle Eastern descent. Everything during and since Samira’s encounter pointed at another entity stirring up something much more than we thought.
“We’re getting hit, John,” Denny said finally. “I admit I didn’t believe the backlash against our operations would happen this soon. If it had been anyone else but Clint, I’d have dead operatives on my tab.”
Well, okay. Let’s get the hankies out folks. You assemble the best. You field them. The time frame for weird happenings, or focused annihilation, doesn’t always happen in a predictable sequence. “We don’t have Clint and Lynn because they’re cannon fodder. Dry your eyes, Denny pooh, and give your team credit for a win. I’m sure you didn’t foresee multiple attacks with differing agendas under one flag. Boo hoo. Let’s concentrate on the win and the info we have.”
Strobert snorted his distaste for my assessment, but grinned over at me with nodding acknowledgment. “Granted, what I think of as luck is insulting. Ambushing Clint Dostiene is a job for a ‘Reaper’ drone, not a bunch of two bit thugs with guns. He is something else, brother, but Lynn is one scary package. She turned a contract killer into our new key to thug information central. Clint said she did one onsite impalement lecture, and they can’t shut Katy Scarpatha up.”
Oh boy could I imagine that. I think I just clenched thinking about it. “It works every time, Denny -no remorse, no compassion, and no mercy. Add in her impalement demo… and Lynn is like the ultimate ‘fear factor’. I know something has you upset besides success. Give me the bottom line.”
“Terrance Brannigan.”
I leaned back in awe of that name, but only in that I would snap his neck like a rotted twig if I ever had the chance to. “Well that’s just… disturbing. I guess we have the good and the bad to look at in this sequence of events. It seems we’ve baited the wrong fish. We’ve done something to piss off one of the upper echelon of chaos. You should have a big smile on your face. I don’t even think about the name Terrance Brannigan. He’s so far up the food chain, it makes me wonder about our info.”
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 64