Peace - A Navy SEALS Novel (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 3)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I wish I could say we were a lot better,” Peace said. “As long as people have a price tag, they will continue to sell out the best interests of their country for money and power. In a give and take world, guys like you and I provide a very expensive tariff on such thinking.”

  Julio smiled over at Peace, nodding in agreement. “That will never change, hombre. Always, there will be someone, who cannot be bought. In the right places, such people can make a whole system of government and law work. Unfortunately, in Mexico right now, such people are at a very high premium.”

  “The CIA needs to get back into the business of helping such men into power. Ever think of getting into a position where you could make some of these decisions?”

  “Oh yes,” Julio laughed. “I have thought of such things many times. While I might be able to get into such a position, the good I could do, would be in direct proportion to how long I managed to stay alive.”

  “True, but something to think about,” Peace replied. “That unfortunate road travels in both directions. Keep me in mind, if you ever decide on such an ambitious pursuit, I would be glad to help out with the more delicate problems.”

  “You will be the first one I would call, hombre. I… hola, here comes our favorite terrorist simpatico.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Batiste’s Fall

  Peace moved to the side of the wide glass doorway, with his arms crossed, the silenced Ruger held under his open suit coat. Julio moved to the other side, completely out of sight behind the stanchion, his Taser gun ready.

  “You decide to keep the girl?” Peace asked quietly, as he watched one of the bodyguards jump out of the driver’s seat of Batiste’s limo, and open the back door.

  “I might say yes now, and no later.”

  Batiste exited the limo with a dark haired young woman, in a sleek fitting one-piece black dress with matching high heels. From pictures Peace had studied, he recognized Batiste right away. Batiste was an older, slightly smaller version of his son, with the beginnings of a middle age spread. Batiste walked purposely toward the building entrance. The woman matched his stride in spite of her high heels, looking rather imperious in Peace’s eyes. The four bodyguards followed quickly behind the woman, their attention trained more on her than on the building or their boss.

  Batiste strode through the doorway with what Peace thought of as very unhealthy tunnel vision. Batiste’s girlfriend moved past Peace without a glance. As Peace heard the Taser fire, he was already firing into the four surprised bodyguards. They dropped without ever reaching a weapon. Two were twitching in their death throes, with shots through their heads. The two others in the rear, who had turned slightly, had been shot in the neck, and the chest. Peace walked up and fired a round through each of the four bodyguard’s foreheads.

  Peace quickly stripped them of their weapons, wallets, and papers they carried. After dragging them over next to the dead bodies of the other guards, Peace spread the coverlet over the bloody mess at the entrance, and repeated his earlier clean up procedure. Only after he had pulled the coverlet over the bodies did Peace rejoin Julio. Julio had the unconscious Batiste, and his girlfriend, sitting next to each other on the couch, their hands plastic tied behind their backs.

  “I’ll take Batiste up to his apartments and question him,” Peace said, lifting Batiste over his shoulder. “You can see if you want to keep the girl with you.”

  “I know this is an inexact science, my friend, but try to finish quickly,” Julio replied.

  “I will.”

  Peace carried the unconscious man to the elevator, and took it up to Batiste’s floor. By the time Peace exited the elevator next to the storage room, where he had first entered the building, Batiste was groaning into consciousness. Peace eased Batiste into a sitting position next to the elevator. Batiste’s eyes blinked open, and he looked around in shock, the muscles in his body still tingling from the Taser shot. He finally focused on Peace, who stood over him.

  “Wha… what have you done?” Batiste croaked.

  “It matters not,” Peace replied in Spanish, as he reached into his inner suit pocket, and retrieved the micro tape recorder he had placed there when he changed clothes. Switching it on to record, Peace continued. “Only one thing concerns you. Tell me everything about your operation here, and list all of your connections overseas.”

  Batiste snorted derisively. “Tell me how much you want. I will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

  “It would be better if you answered what I ask. You will not survive this, but you might make your passing a little less painful,” Peace suggested.

  Sweat popped out over Batiste’s face, as he stared up at Peace, fear registering for the first time on his features. “If you plan on killing me anyway, why should I tell you anything? If you want me to deal for my life, I will. I know…”

  “No deals,” Peace said simply. “I will methodically beat you and break your bones until you tell me what I want to know. Then I will begin cutting.”

  “You… you are an American, no?”

  “Yes, but I am not like the Americans you may be used to dealing with. Begin talking.”

  Batiste’s lip quivered, seeing nothing but calm indifference in the eyes of the man in front of him. Batiste had used such men many times. They could be bought, but this man would not even give him a price to haggle over. His mind raced from one unconnected scenario to another. Peace reached down, and grabbed the collar of his shirt and suit coat as Batiste protested.

  “Wait, wait, we…”

  Peace turned slightly, and kicked the man over his right kidney. Batiste screamed in pain. Peace reached the apartment door, and unlocked it. He dragged Batiste into the room where the floor safe was located under the desk. Peace tossed a groaning Batiste to the side, and knelt down to uncover the safe.

  “Give me the combination to your safe here for a start,” Peace said quietly.

  Hope came into Batiste’s pain filled eyes. “Yes… yes… take it all. I have…”

  “The combination, now.”

  Batiste quickly gave Peace the combination, and within moments, Peace had the contents of the safe laid out on the top of the desk. Peace counted fifty thousand dollars in five sheaves of American one hundred dollar bills. He looked quickly through the ledgers, which had been stashed away with the money. Peace smiled as he recognized names he had seen on the active terrorist list from the countries of Syria, Iran, and North Korea. He saw nothing mentioned of the Republic of China. Peace looked over at Batiste curiously.

  “If these guys knew you were keeping notes on them, they would have cut you into little pieces,” Peace observed.

  “Insurance,” Batiste said, trying to ease over away from his injured side. “I paid a fortune to find out what you have in your hands.”

  Peace nodded. “If any of them gave you trouble, you found a way to out them to America. Problem solved. Not bad, but you were still taking an awfully big chance. I guess you figured to get out of the business before you lost your usefulness, and they blew your ass up. Well, the bill has come due. Start talking. The instant you begin to bore me, I will start rearranging your body parts.”

  When Batiste clamped his eyes shut, and his jaw shut, Peace sighed. He reached down and picked Batiste off the floor. He sat him down in the desk chair, with his plastic tied hands draped back over the chair back. Batiste grunted in pain, but stayed silent. Peace began methodically smashing Batiste open handed across the face, with first his right hand, and then his left. Batiste tried to kick out with his feet. Peace shot both of Batiste’s knees, causing him to scream in agony before passing out. Peace smacked him lightly across the face until the man came to, again screaming in pain.

  “Shall we begin again, or are you getting the message?” Peace asked.

  Between cries of pain, Batiste talked non-stop for the next half an hour. When he began to repeat himself, Peace shot him twice through the temple from close range. He found a bag to place his reco
rder, and the contents of the safe in. With all of the information packed away, Peace dragged Batiste’s body to the elevator, and down to the first floor. When Peace exited the elevator with his gory passenger, the girl with Julio screamed. Julio whispered in her ear, and she shut up immediately, sobbing for him not to kill her. Julio walked over to where Peace stood next to the elevator. Peace handed him the bag with the safe contents, and recorder.

  “Any luck?”

  “I think so,” Peace answered. “Any suggestions as to what to do with the body?”

  “Leave him by the back entrance,” Julio instructed him. “I’ll take him out deep when I go. Let his partners guess what happened to him.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. There’s fifty thousand dollars in the bag,” Piece added quietly. “Take it, amigo. Political campaigns can be costly.”

  “And if I don’t use it in a campaign?” Peace shrugged.

  “What about you, my friend?”

  “I do not wish to run for office,” Peace replied with a smile.

  “In that case, I will take your very generous campaign contribution.”

  “I guess I better get moving. I hate to stick you with all these loose ends.”

  “I have been well compensated, as it turns out,” Julio said, following Peace over to the front entrance.

  Julio handed Peace the Mercedes keys, and told him where to find it. Peace handed him the Ruger.

  “Until we meet again, my friend,” Julio said, taking the Ruger with his own gloved hand. “You have two hours.”

  “Adios,” Peace said, heading for the door. “Call me if you need me.”

  “I will, compadre. Do not improvise on your way home.”

  __

  Peace drove the Mercedes back to the hotel, and checked out. Within the two hour window of time, he drove into the parking lot of the motel outside of San Diego, for his appointment with Chuck. He had dressed in his suit before checking out of the hotel in Ensenada, and still sported his beard across the border. Peace knocked on the door, and a moment later, his contact opened the door, motioning him inside with a smile. Peace went over to the motel desk and sat down with his small suitcase next to him. Chuck sat down opposite him.

  “You look a little tired.”

  “I’ll get over it. Did you hear any word yet?” Peace asked.

  “All the players are in motion. Julio is on his way out to sea. That’s all I know right now. Except for Batiste having a full scale WMD site, your mission went very smooth.”

  “Yea, imagine my surprise,” Peace laughed tiredly. “I wonder how close we were to having a nuclear or bio incident on the West Coast.”

  “Thanks to you and Julio, we should be able to find out. Hey, that is what we do. Close calls are our specialty, right?”

  “Not that close. Do you think we can keep the thing under wraps until you can trap a few mice in our trap,” Peace asked.

  “Depends on what they find there. With the Mexican authorities involved, there’s no telling. They won’t wait around with that setup sitting in Ensenada. If they don’t find much active stuff, they might go along with a sting operation. We’ll know in a couple of days. Want a beer while you get out of those clothes?”

  Peace nodded. “Man, that sounds good. Will you be able to give me a lift over to Ed’s maybe?”

  “Sure,” Chuck agreed on his way to the small refrigerator. He brought back two cans of Miller Genuine Draft, and set one in front of Peace.

  Peace handed over the keys to the Mercedes. “Be careful with Julio’s ride.”

  “I’ve heard that lecture already,” Chuck laughed. “I’ll be leaving it right where you parked it. He’ll come up tomorrow and get it. That was good thinking, leaving a couple of the guards alive to bring in the tipped off Mexican authorities. It makes everyone look good in the papers. They find a WMD threat, and we get asked in to help clean it up. We already have a team down there to watch what they do during their discovery phase.”

  “Sounds like a wise move, considering they had Batiste building the whole thing right under their noses. God only knows how many people he has on the payroll.”

  “We know,” Chuck assured him. “We’ve been watching the bank accounts of every clown who came into contact with Batiste, even for a moment. When we let a few people in government down there on our payroll, know what went on, we’ll get the Batiste guys rooted out. Of course, there will be a power vacuum. We hope to fill it with some folks who are tired of playing games with these terrorists.”

  “Good luck,” Peace sighed, drinking the rest of his beer with one long gulp.

  Chuck stood up. “You want off at the restaurant or Ed’s house?”

  “The house,” Peace answered, stripping out of the suit. He dressed in jeans and a tee shirt from his bag. “I hope to be sound asleep in bed, just in case the news breaks of all this, and my friends start doing that irritating leap in logic they do.”

  Peace went into the bathroom. He spent the next ten minutes removing the remnants of his disguise. When he walked back out to his suitcase, he took out his high collared jacket, and black watch cap. Pulling the cap down to just over his eyes, he turned up the collar of his jacket.

  “How sure are you about not being watched?” Peace asked.

  “If I’ve been made, it won’t matter how many are watching,” Chuck grinned. “I’ll leave you off a few blocks from Ed’s house, unless you want to take a taxi.”

  “Maybe that would be best. Who knows who might be watching Ed’s house. The cops probably still have me under surveillance for all I know. I’ll use the payphone up by the motel office to call one.”

  “You have something in mind for your friends in case they already know you didn’t go to LA?” Chuck asked.

  “I’ll tell them the Ford gave up the ghost in between here and LA, so I had to call off my get together with Jill.”

  “They’ll have a good time with that one.”

  Peace shrugged. “Wait until the news breaks about Batiste. They’ll be all over me like a blanket. No story will be good enough for them once they start playing around with that fate accompli. I’ll tell you one thing. I sure feel better about things now that Batiste is dead. Having murderous multi-millionaires out there with my name on a hit list didn’t do much for my feelings of wellbeing.”

  “Take care,” Chuck laughed, walking him to the door. “I’ll be in touch as soon as we sort through what you and Julio extracted.”

  “Talk to you in a few then,” Peace replied, walking out of the motel room, and towards the office.

  __

  “I told you he was here,” Polasky said. “You could have taken my word for it, Dan.”

  “I believed you,” Dan said quietly. “I needed to see him when he woke up. I’m sorry to put you through this early wake up call, Ed.”

  “Forget it,” Ed waved him off, and then plunged his hands back into the pockets of his robe. “I’m thinking of booting the little meatball out on his ass.”

  “I heard that,” Peace called out, his voice muffled by the pillow he had his face stuffed in. He had heard the men come up the stairs and open his door. Peace sat up slowly, running his hands over his face, and then yawning. “Hi Dan.”

  “Did you have a good time in LA?” Dan asked.

  “Never made it,” Peace yawned again, stretching with his arms out wide. “My surprise visit to see Jill fell by the roadside with my Ford, halfway up the coast.”

  “Car trouble, huh?” Ed asked. “You should have taken your Buick. The heat’s off.”

  Peace nodded in agreement. “Coulda, woulda, shoulda. I won’t have a choice now. The engine’s blown. I pulled the oil cap, and there was white creamy foam all over it. I donated it to the tow truck guy. It had brand new tires, and he called it square. I took the bus back.”

  “Imagine that,” Dan replied, rubbing his chin.

  “What brings you here, Lieutenant Dan?” Peace asked, standing up from his bed.

  “I wanted t
o see if you were okay. I heard breaking news this morning on CNN, about a rumored WMD site in Ensenada. It seems the owner of the port facility was Dink Batiste’s Daddy. The surviving guards told the authorities Batiste is dead, although they haven’t found his body yet. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Peace?”

  “It sounds like good news to me,” Peace replied, putting on his pants. He then sat back down on the bed to put on his shoes and socks, as Ed began laughing.

  “Do you know anything about this, Ed?” Dan asked, turning towards Polasky.

  Polasky raised his hands as if in surrender. “Don’t break out the rubber hoses, Dan, I’m innocent.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Righter replied sheepishly to the older man. “When you laughed, I thought maybe this was an inside joke.”

  “James Bond Peacenik here doesn’t let me in on his excursions,” Ed laughed again. “I’m following your train of thought, Dan. Interrogations are not my strong suit though.”

  “A lot of guys needing killing have turned up dead at opportune moments lately,” Dan smiled. “It was all I could do to keep Bull from waking 007 here in a most inappropriate manner. He was the one who called me this morning to turn on the news. I knew Peace wasn’t with Jill, because Jill called me Friday night to see if he had duty again this weekend.”

  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” Peace sighed, tucking in his shirt, and looking at his clock. “Maybe I’ll try and get up there today in the Buick. Hey, it’s almost eight o’clock, Dan. Aren’t you supposed to be in church?”

  “I thought you were going to let us help you, Peace,” Dan said, ignoring Peace’s move to change the subject. “That was no lone wolf job, and especially not with the implications of terrorists using Batiste’s port as a WMD dump.”

  Peace turned around suddenly from his dresser. “Wait a minute. You think I had something to do with Batiste’s rumored demise?”