Clint threw Ardian Shala on the deck in front of his two mates. I held his feet, while Clint secured his upper body. Lynn did a wonderful impression of a surgeon concentrating with great care on a patient. She ran that damn tip along Shala’s body from his neck down. His shirt and undershirt parted over his struggling body in a separating wave of material. It fell away, revealing his naked, heaving chest. A thin, red line left an illustration of Lynn’s expertise. She smiled up at the two still seated men.
“See, I even left a marking line for my first cut. Watch carefully, boys. I’ll take a nice little swatch off of old Ardian. You cannot believe the pain when the air hits, and we pour a little salt water over it.”
Lynn gagged Ardian with a piece of duct tape, and pulled on surgical gloves. Then she proceeded to cut a three inch square off of the muffled screaming Shala, his head arching up and down, side to side. With utmost care and rock steady hands, Lynn separated the thin skin layer off in nearly a perfect square. She held it up for Shala to see proudly. He passed out. Kraja started to speak, but Lynn waved him to silence.
“Patience, bubby, I haven’t gotten to the really neat part.”
I revived Shala with a little ocean water. He became conscious in a frantic state of readiness to do anything Lynn wanted him to do, but he was the example both for his compatriots about what was in store for them, and proof Lynn had no problem whatsoever carrying out the chore. I handed her the small bucket half filled with salt water, as I remained across Shala’s legs. She smiled at Ardian and then at Kraja and Daballa.
“Here it comes, kiddies.” Lynn poured the salt water over Shala’s skinless middle area. He bucked with his head banging up and down on the deck without letup. The keening whine of muffled agony went on without letup behind the duct tape. Cruella sighed contentedly. “Now that’s how it’s done. Want a taste?”
“I will tell you everything I know… everything!” Kraja was sincere.
Daballa stared at the writhing Shala still in stunned silence at Lynn’s performance. Lynn waved a hand in front of his face.
“Hey, Sweet-pea, you still in there? How about it? Want to be helpful?”
Daballa met Lynn’s questioning stare with utter horror. He nodded.
I quickly cleaned Shala’s wound, and put an analgesic salve covered pad on the wound and taped it on. Compared to what he had been experiencing, it was pure bliss. He gasped. He sobbed. Lynn straddled him with her death face.
“Okay, I know your cohorts here are going to be very helpful. I need you to convince me you are too, or the bandage comes off, and your buddies get to watch me make you into a science project. What’ll it be, before I get bored and reintroduce you to my little friend, Mr. Skinner again?”
Shala was convinced. “I… I tell everything.”
“Good boy. Here’s what we start with first. You give me all your off shore account numbers, and I’ll have my transfer team make sure you’re being helpful.”
I smiled. Even facing what Lynn had in mind for him didn’t get Shala immediately reciting account numbers I would be recording with his directions for access. Mr. Skinner made his click-clack appearance.
“Bored now. We need another demo. I-”
“No! I will tell you!” Yeah, Ardian’s face had the look of someone ready to tell.
It took nearly an hour to finish getting his accounts and access tricks, including the actual transfers with Jafar and Laredo working in tandem. We hit the jackpot. His accounts totaled nearly seventy-five million dollars. By the time we had everything done with the accounts, Ardian was done. He talked for the next hour about everything under the sun, allowing his cohorts to fill in spots with him. It was the stuff of nightmares. We stuck to our original bargain after sending the information to Denny, and getting final confirmation. Shala gave us a few new leads to keep watch over in the future, and a very helpful connection to the Sinaloa Cartel I’m sure Denny received with much enthusiasm. The disposal of our blasphemous cretins, guilty of atrocities no human being should be guilty of performing on innocents, were recycled without incident. We did demonstrate just how blasphemous we cretins working for the innocents could be. That would have to be our silent satisfaction as we watched the shark recycling unit at work.
We docked at Dhamo’s docking space once again. Denny, Lucas, Casey, and Jafar were waiting for us this time. They came aboard for a meeting. Denny wanted a quick debriefing before laying out plans for us concerning the site where Dhamo held seven women awaiting shipment to buyers. All of them were under eighteen. I had made coffee, and we all sat down with cups in the spacious cabin area. I recapped our events since last seeing them. It wasn’t pretty, but Denny wanted to know the details of how our interrogation worked with Shala. Yes, we keep track of the most efficient ways we could get needed information. In this case, the disposal method would be considered seriously in future operations.
“Damn, girl, you are good,” Lucas said. “I like the way we don’t have to risk anyone witnessing anything concerning the info gathering or the disposal.”
“The House of Pain has been a mainstay,” Casey added, “but it was always messy. We have the Marina nearby to park The Lora. We’ll need some armament added. It’s not as friendly to alterations as The Sea Wolf, but we can probably add a machine gun nest, and have a couple of hand launchers aboard.”
“I’ll take care of it when we get her back up north,” Denny replied. “Let’s move on the warehouse they have the girls in tonight. I’ve let Sam Reeves know about our other targets. He’ll coordinate the hits on them with the locals. The holding area is located in the middle of the East LA projects. It’s watched and manned by a gang calling themselves the Zombies. Nothing fancy. We hit them, collect all on scene data, and take the girls with us. I have a backup team who will take care of them after rescue. No one knows about our hit. As far as the FBI is concerned, we’ve found drug and weapons depots with connections to the Sinaloa Cartel. Our hit will be passed off as a gang war.”
“What kind of guards do they have in place, Denny?”
“In daytime, three,” Denny answered. “At night, they have two, John. I’m figuring silenced sniper rounds for them, MAC 10’s inside for the rest. Jafar has the layout.”
Jafar handed printouts to each of us. They came complete with 3D pictures of the warehouse building from all sides, and a breakdown of the floor plan inside. “I highlighted their probable holding area. It has partitioned offices I believe they would use for the girls. Up front is where Lucas and Casey said the heat signatures and noise are coming from.”
“They’re pretty lax, John,” Case said. “After Lucas drops the guards, you, Clint and I can go right at them, while Cruella goes for the back where they’re held. You have a fight coming up. Want me to take point?”
“Considering the makeshift training Tommy came up with for me while at sea, I’d rather have an excuse to take the time off on the way back. I’ll lead.”
“What training you talking about?”
“You should sail back with us, Lucas,” Clint said. “Tommy has DL in the drink for a hell of a long time, including shifting strokes. It’s brutal.”
“Clint and I throw chum in the water until the sharks start gathering,” Lynn added. “Then DL hits the water, and out swims them for almost an hour.”
That description was well received. “It’s not as funny when the sharks do start joining the training session for real. Clint lets them rub against me before he even goes to get his rifle. Anyway, I’ll take point. We’ll hit them at 2 am when it’s less likely they’re still moving around. Are you sure it’s safe to let Lucas try and get two guys at once, Case?”
“Oh, real funny, meat. I think I’ll talk to Tommy about some in the water strokes to add, and I’ll come along for the ride. You need to be agile in the water, and I think dodging a poking grappling hook would be just the exercise addition needed to get you into top form.”
I ignored the enthusiastic approval of Lucas’s plan. “Tommy
would never try and pull that on me.” I could see on their faces, especially Denny’s that they knew as well as I did Tommy would embrace any new torture addition without a moment’s hesitation. Damn it! Me and my big mouth.
Chapter Sixteen: The Darkness Works
We considered flash-bangs thrown in to disrupt the inside crew, but figured it too paramilitary for the gang hit façade we were hoping our rescue would look like. We dropped Lucas off where he had the high ground with line of sight on the guards he had already picked out during the recon he and Casey had done. Jafar monitored all communication, both ours and theirs. Denny drove us on a slow direct approach. The two guards popped up from where they lounged at the entrance as our lights bore down on them from up the street. Both bodies pitched backwards with their heads pulped.
Denny speeded up his approach. Before the SUV came to a halt, we piled out of it, masks in place, weapons ready. I tried the door. It was unlocked due to them believing they had it guarded. I led the way in. Shots rang out almost immediately. Bullets chipped the cement at my feet, and I felt one clip my leg as I started weaving. So much for the big target ploy. Clint and Casey fired bursts from behind me with their MAC 10’s, as Lynn ran for the back of the dimly lighted warehouse.
I spotted the room off to the left with two dead men in front of it. A third man exited the door as I reached it. I plowed into him, tearing him off his feet, and back through the door he had exited. Three more were in the large entertainment room. It was apparent we hit them a little early. One of the men fired wildly, peppering his own guy I had gripped in front of me with 9mm weapons fire. Two more bursts from behind me silenced all gunfire. I threw down my human shield and raced for the back with Casey and Clint behind me.
* * *
Montoya ran in a zigzag pattern toward the rear warehouse area lodging the girls they hoped to rescue. She concentrated totally on the shadowed area ahead, ignoring the gunfire erupting behind. Her thoughts jumped from the single entrance door ahead to the growing life inside her. She smiled, thinking of her unborn son - just like everything else in my life, this will be tough to explain, kid.
The door ahead slammed open against its hinges, disgorging two men with what looked like AK47 rifles. The lead one pointed his at Lynn a split second before his head turned to pulp. Montoya dropped to one knee and fired three rounds into the second man, as Lucas’s second shot from the position he had taken at the warehouse entrance took out a third man emerging from the doorway. No other attackers revealed themselves as Montoya again continued on to the doorway. She went left through the doorway, rolling into a firing position.
“Drop it, bitch or I blow her fucking head off!” A shadowy, hulking figure held a squirming teenage girl in a headlock with his head next to hers.
Montoya fired without hesitation, her hollow point round slightly disturbing the girl’s hair as it passed a millimeter from the side of her skull. It smashed into the man’s forehead, opened like a flower, and turned his brain into jelly. His corpse pitched backwards, pulling the girl with him, his last grip loosening as she fell on top of him. Seeing no one else other than the girl’s screaming companions, Lynn ran forward and scooped up the girl into a comforting embrace. She retreated with her to the wall near the door, awaiting backup while scanning the room for other targets, her Glock at the ready. Lynn made soothing noises to the sobbing girl in her embrace thinking again about her impending motherhood - your Mom did good on this one, kid.
* * *
I ran by two guys with half a head and another with three dead center holes through his chest. Inside the room, girls were screaming and sobbing. The only enemy I saw as Clint and Case bracketed me was a guy with an extra hole in his head. Clint spotted Lynn with a girl in her arms, and raced over to cover them both. It looked like a very good day until a guy popped up all the way on our left where there were filing cabinets and debris strewn around. I charged him because he had an AK47 in his hands he was bringing to bear on us.
I blocked the burst, my momentum keeping me on track right through him. I saw stars, galaxies, comets shooting through outer space. My vision honed to the asshole’s face, his AK47 burst unable to stop my charge, but rapidly driving me into the gray, grainy seepage of unconsciousness. A split second later I bulldozed him into the wall behind us, where he and I banged into it with force enough to send his AK47 clattering to the floor. Then, I had my hands around his neck. I perched atop him as we slid to the floor, the darkness descending through my single minded purpose with a vengeance. The last thing I heard was the sweet reverberating crack when I sent my last bodily commands to limbs which soon seemed no longer a part of me.
* * *
I was drowning. I gasped, spluttered, choked, and coughed as I imagined my cold, lifeless body descending to the ocean’s murky bottom. A big dark hand smashed across my face as I blinked, Lucas’s grinning skull coming into focus.
“He’s okay. Get up, you big pussy! What the fuck? A recon Marine eats AK47’s for a snack between meals! Tommy’s right. You need toughening, boot-camp. I think an hour and a half in the water might get you tuned for the fight coming up. Otherwise… maybe we can forfeit.”
I rolled to my side, as darkness receded, Lucas’s insults beginning to draw laughter from the audience watching my recovery into sanity. “I…I’m right here… you no good… rotten… lifer asshole! You… you and me… you prick!”
I got up on hands and knees with Lucas howling right over me, laughing so hard, his annoying barking laugh drowned out everything around me. I took stock of the little things, like sharp pains or weakness in the limbs I methodically motored for damage. The darkness receded. I grinned, seeing my victim’s sightless eyes staring at me in the horror of death, knowing where his road to the afterlife lay. Lynn knelt next to me while I maintained a solid knees and arms posture with the floor, putting a comforting arm around my shoulders.
“Jesus, DL, you took a load that time. Thank you.”
I nodded, because talking normally wasn’t going to happen for a while yet. Sounds were beginning to flow slowly back into my perception. I could hear Casey making jokes to our kidnapped girls, which from their sporadic laughter must mean he was a hit. Clint offered me a hand up which I took without comment, but with much appreciation. I breathed in carefully and back out while taking stock of my standing position. I kept my hands on knees, still a bit foggy, but improving by the second. A team of half a dozen men and women dressed as doctors and nurses catered to the kids we had found, leading them out with a wide berth around us. Denny played guide, directing traffic. It looked to be a good night in spite of a couple of minor pitfalls.
I straightened, enduring the last wave of dizziness the absence of breath over a space of time causes. It felt fine when I flexed my arms, twisting slowly in each direction to detect any rib issues. I had reinforced my usual Kevlar coating, hoping to pad it enough so as not to end up incapacitated and unable to fight The Destroyer. By the feel so far, I had padded it adequately. The girl I assumed was the one I had glimpsed in Lynn’s arms momentarily before I opted for human target status, ran over to Lynn before she was ushered out of the building. The girl sobbed, hugging Montoya. A softening of features I had never seen before flowed over Lynn’s hardened lines. She stroked the girl’s hair, whispering I’m sure the assurances of common decency and compassion. The girl nodded solemnly, wiping at her eyes before turning toward the nurse waiting for her. Lynn stopped her. Clint, sensing Lynn’s intent, handed over a notepad and pen. Lynn gave the clairvoyant Clint a little slap of gratitude. She then scribbled on it and pressed the paper into the girl’s hand. That elicited a smile and small wave as the girl allowed the nurse to guide her away.
Denny walked over as the last of his medical team left with the girls. “That’s a wrap on LA, except for what Jafar finds laying around the warehouse here. The kid’s been screening your calls too, John. He says that Kevin guy’s been trying to reach you. What Kevin guy?”
I told the Halliday st
ory for them, complete with Kevin’s interpretation of his meeting with the Buffster, Kensy Talon. My audience ate up my pantomime of Kevin dealing with Kensy along with the aftermath. “I’ll give him a call now if Lucas is all done calling me names. He’s mad because I won’t let him have The Lora for his fleet.”
“That was mutiny. You should have been whipped with the cat-o-nine tails,” Lucas proclaimed. “Your latest sissy act confirmed you need stern guidance to get you back on track.”
“Throw all the hissy fits you want, Ahab. I took The Lora by force of arms. I can’t wait until we take the Wolf out for some more action in the Gulf. I want to see how she holds up under heavy fire.”
“I’ll lash your pansy ass to the bow so you can take the first hit.”
I laughed with the rest and walked off to the side with my i-thingy on. Kevin answered on the first ring. “Hey, Kev, how’s your new career doing?”
“Mr. Dubrinsky is a great guy. He has everything filed and legal, John. We’ve already filmed the pilot episode he sold to a producer interested in an LA based reality show spotlighting our bond retrieval agency. We’ve been doing shadow work for him too, checking out insurance fraud cases, and leg work. I…I’m sorry to bother you, but I need your advice. Dan wants to film us taking in an ex Hell’s Angel named Les Tavor tonight. He got a tip Tavor would be meeting a dealer outside the Hotel Erwin near Muscle Beach at midnight. We’ll be filming it as a segment with all the shadows and low light. I think it’s a bad idea.”
And then some. “I think you’re right. I thought you bunch were going to do things like Chad outlined for you. That seems to be going well if you already have a pilot show done. Didn’t he squash this Hell’s Angel idea?”
“Dan didn’t tell him, and I’m under orders not to discuss it with him. This Tavor guy jumped bail on weapons and drug charges. Kensy’s supposed to take lead again. She says she won’t do anything stupid, but the Buffster has a little adrenaline junky in her. Hell, Kensy’s not even healed up from jumping me. Another thing… I’m in love with her.”
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 81