“What do you assholes want?” Kensky decided on bluster, although abject terror made his voice waver. “Let me go. Where are my prosthetics? Can’t you see I’m handicapped?”
His declaration drew voice altered laughter, chilling in the tones created by the separate devices. One of the men approached with a black silk mask and black hat as if he were trying to resemble Zorro. “We are filming this, Mr. Kensky. El Muerto wants you to answer some questions. They will determine how you will die. No one will hear you scream down here, nor will there be any rescue attempts. If you refuse to answer anything we ask, you will be subjected to slow evisceration. In other words we will gut you like a trout.”
Kensky tried chuckling, but it came out like a gargle of blood. “I know this game. I’m supposed to tell you everything because you three pop out of the dark with scary masks. Bite me. I want all your badge numbers. I’m going to own the city because of what you’ve done.”
The clown face crouched near him causing Kensky to cringe away from the very effective mask. “Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges.”
The one that had not spoken yet came forward. He held a scalpel in one gloved hand near Kensky’s face. “I think you’ll recognize this implement, Gerald. I think you’re under the misconception there will be a happy ending at some point. This will show you we’re not kidding around with you. We’re not cops and we’re not FBI agents. I am El Muerto. This is the deadly Payaso, and the famous Isis cult killer, El Kabong. We are the Unholy Trio. We serve justice when justice has been denied. Here is a little taste to get you on board, Gerald.”
Kensky screamed as he watched the scalpel cut downward from his sternum to his belly button. Blood welled out as Kensky kept wailing in sheer horror.
“I believe Gerald thinks that hurt really bad, Kabong. Perhaps you should show him what pain really feels like.”
The man dubbed El Kabong came forward once more with a bleach container. Without ceremony, he poured some over the open wound. Kensky’s facial features froze for a moment in complete mind numbing agony. He passed out.
* * *
“Well that was sufficiently horrific even for you, Muerto,” Gus said. “I think Gerald understands the consequences clearly now. Are you going to wake him right away?”
“First off, Payaso, did you just call me sadistic?”
“I’m sorry, Muerto, did I stutter. Shall I speak more slowly for you? You are without doubt a human reptile – no feelings, no compassion, no empathy, and no mercy. No thinking human being on earth could even dream in their wildest nightmares some of the stuff you do in reality.”
“El Muerto is very hurt by his trusted friend’s vicious verbal attack on Muerto’s gentle nature. No, I’m not going to awaken my poor abused serial killer. Let him regain consciousness in slow waves of pain.”
John chuckled. “That is very compassionate, Muerto.”
“I saw the Seattle PD badge and ID he had with him,” Gus commented while watching Kensky begin to shudder while making unconscious yipping noises. “He would very likely have enticed that girl into his car. The ID was as good as I’ve ever seen. It would explain how he nailed many of his earlier victims. I wondered why in the hell any woman would let this maniac approach them.”
“He went old school with the gun as he did with Dan and Sarah when there were simply too many cops on the prowl,” Nick added. “The police ID became too big of a gamble so he worked his recon more carefully.”
“Until you blew his hand and foot off. Here he comes. Gerald doesn’t seem very happy, Muerto.”
Nick smiled at the gasping, wide eyed Kensky, so pain shocked as to be nearly incoherent. “Hello, Gerald. Welcome back. Do you understand your situation now?”
Kensky tried his audio output, failed, and switched to a virulent head nod.
“Good. Let’s begin with a simple one.” Nick showed him the picture of Claudia Jannasy. “Do you recognize this girl? She disappeared at a time just prior to the beginning of your killing rampage where you left your victims to be found. It would mean you also have a burial ground. There is no penalty for the truth, but as you have experienced, there is a penalty for lies. I am very adept at knowing when I’m being lied to. If you are not real convincing, I might make an oops and cut a bit more of an opening for the bleach.”
“I…I killed her. I’ll show you where I buried her.”
“No, you won’t. You will tell us in excruciating detail where the burial grounds are that you’ve made use of, including the Spokane one.”
“How do you know about Spokane?”
“Let’s put it this way, Gerald. We’ve cross-referenced your life with disappearances. We know you have been a busy boy. If you make us get the facts the hard way, we’ll obtain the facts the hard way from then on, even if you scream and beg to tell us. Start with where you buried Claudia, and how many more are in the same spot. El Kabong will show you a tablet with map coordinates. Be specific, Gerald.”
* * *
“There are four bodies buried where he told you, Nick,” Robyn MacEachern confirmed. “The cadaver dogs found them right away. Claudia still wore a necklace I recognized. Thank you for finding out, Nick. Kensky didn’t go quickly did he?”
“He hasn’t gone anywhere yet, Robyn. I believe when you see how he passes his last moments on video, you will be somewhat mollified.”
“Oh… you guys are doing the ‘Unholy Trio’ ending, huh? I love those clips. Yes, that will do nicely. Bye, Nick.”
“Bye, Robyn.” Nick disconnected, returning to the room where Kensky awaited confirmation of the burial site. “Your info on Claudia was accurate, Gerald. That’s a good thing. Let’s get all the rest of what you know down to the last detail, buddy.”
* * *
A day later, Nick received the last confirmation in Spokane, and one vagrant in Yakima, Kensky had done when still living with his grandmother. “That’s a wrap, guys.”
“Paul really came through,” Gus replied. “I figured at least a week before we received final word. I know I claimed to have had enough of your endings, but after listening to the details of all those people this piece of shit mutilated and murdered, I believe Payaso will stay for the finish.”
“El Kabong is in to the last,” John said, slipping his mask and hat on. “We have an excellent video I will edit slightly later. Are we going to tell him who we are first?”
“Nope,” Nick answered. “Let’s go get ‘er done. I’ll carve, you wash, Kabong. Before anyone moves out of this room, you all know the ending. Kensky won’t be getting any reprieves in there. We bleach his insides until his black heart gives out or a circuit blows in his head.”
“Understood,” Gus stated.
“I have his surprise replay ready to play, Muerto,” John added.
Nick grinned. “Good. We don’t want him to think we went back on the agreement.”
Kensky looked anxiously with pain filled eyes at the three masked figures approaching. “This… this is murder. You could still turn me over to the FBI. I don’t know who you are. They’ll convict me for sure. I’ll confess! Just dump me near the nearest precinct!”
“That is so sweet. Thank you for your kind offer,” Nick said. “I’ll put it to a vote. Payaso, El Kabong… what do you think of Gerald’s cool offer to confess and never turn us in? Please raise your hand if you think we should take Gerald to the nearest police station.”
No hands moved.
“Gee, I’m awful sorry, Gerald. That will not be one of your options. Actually, you’re out of options. This ending we have planned for you will be quite painful. I know your belly hurts and I’m afraid it will get much more painful. Shall we begin? Show of hands please for Gerald’s benefit.”
All hands went up.
“Yes! Democracy in action. Long live the Republic. It will be I, El Muerto who shall do the cutting while my assistant, the El Kabong shall do the bleaching.”
“Wait! What about my deal? I told you everything… and… and it
all checked out! Just make it quick!”
“Uh oh. Gerald has called into question our deal. Rewind the tape, El Kabong. Let Gerald hear what went on during negotiations.”
John placed his tablet where Kensky could see it clearly, playing him his words ‘Bite me’ when offered the quick ending. Kensky began to sob.
“Mer…mercy!”
“Show of hands. Who wants mercy for poor old serial killer, Gerald?”
No hands.
Nick moved to Gerald, opening the old bleached wound and continuing to cut evenly down to the killer’s groin. Kensky screamed in horror as his intestines flopped out to the floor. He passed out once again as John poured bleach over his entrails. Kensky came to with help four times over the next hour until a blood vessel popped in his brain, his last vision - the Unholy Trio waving goodbye at him.
“My goodness,” Nick said. “If we executed heinous murderers like that, I’d bet murder of any kind would drop ninety-nine percent.”
“Small doubt about that,” Gus said. “John and I will bag him if you do cleanup, Muerto.”
“Deal.”
“Should we bury him?”
“We’ll dump him in the woods. He’s already been stripped. I don’t want his clothes to get caught in any poor creature’s teeth.”
“Very compassionate, Muerto.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Payaso. We’ll leave his Toyota along the way. We bleached it clean already.”
* * *
“What the hell is this?” Gus gestured at the three vehicles parked outside the mansion’s driveway gate. “Did Rachel call you?”
“Nope. I think it might be a good idea by the looks of those people to give her a call and find out why we’re the last to know about visitors camped here on the road. I’m glad we came home early.”
“Cala did not call me either,” John informed them.
“That’s because she wasn’t concerned about you, John.”
“Did Tina call you, smartass?”
“No, but I’m married to Tina. That’s different.”
“How is that different, all knowing Payaso?”
“Because married women would rather whine about their husbands not calling and telling them where they are instead of calling and finding out.”
“Enough. El Muerto must call his beloved,” Nick said while connecting. He felt relief hearing Rachel’s voice. “Hi honey, I’m home. Why is there a boycott outside our rental?”
“I knew you were busy, and I didn’t want to worry you. We’re fine. I alerted the police. They have a car come buy once an hour. Deke, Tina and I handled it.”
“You’re killing me here, sweetie. What did you and your cohorts handle? Usually when someone tells me they handled something, the aftermath isn’t hanging around on the sidewalk in a group of six angry looking men of Middle Eastern origin by the looks of it. Are these Kader androids?”
“Yes. I would have called you though if I was having any problem. Deke took them at the door, and stopped them from walking right in. The twelve gauge pump in my hands coupled with nasty mouth Tina drove them away.”
“Hey! I resemble that remark,” Tina called out in the background.
“Anyway… we’re okay. I reported them to the police. They sent a patrol car by to tell those shit-heads in no uncertain terms what they can and cannot do, one of those items was moving their asses off of my property. Come on in. I bet you’re tired.”
“I’m relieved everyone is okay. I’m glad Bill is with Dimah or I’d be thinking they tortured our location out of her. Would you make the call to Dimah and check whether they had any trouble down there?”
“Right away.”
Nick turned to Gus and John. “It’s a Kader family reunion. Obviously, they have plans for Cala that don’t involve her staying with El Kabong. What say you, Kabong?”
“It is too bad we are so far away from the storage freezer in Carmel Valley.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Rachel says the police have it covered. They moved them back beyond the gate, and have roving patrols making sure they stay there. What say we slink in, sip a couple of Bushmills, eat a little food, shower, and hit the sack? We’ll play with the Islamists tomorrow morning after the thoughts of running them over with the car leave my head for a time.”
“A well thought out plan, brother,” Gus said. “Deke will never let them approach at night, and I know how you sleep and prepare, Muerto. Besides, I bet it rains like hell tonight.”
“I reluctantly agree with Payaso,” John said. “As much as I would like to get to know the family with my MP5, it would be much more appropriate to wait until morning’s light frames the targets. We do not need this, Muerto. The lawyer of Kensky will have a posse looking for the murderer tomorrow some time. Our plan of lying low for a couple of days and returning home was a good one. These men will surely ruin our Karma if we confront them now.”
“Agreed. Let’s go get our drink on. We’ll deal with the Kaders after some rest.” Nick started their vehicle. Before he could drive into the circular approach, two of the Kader boys jumped out in front of their SUV.”
“It is a lucky thing Muerto is driving,” John said. “Go out there and reason with them, Payaso. Perhaps you could explain married life to them. They will be bored to tears within moments and let us pass.”
“Sorry, but I don’t speak stupid. Nick will have to handle them.”
“Very well,” Nick replied. “Be careful what you ask for, Payaso.”
Gus grabbed Nick’s arm as he opened his car door. “I don’t want to drive back into the woods tonight. Show some restraint, for God’s sake.”
“First you wanted it handled, and then you start getting picky. Unhand me, villain. It is time for El Muerto the great negotiator to work his magic in these dire moments at hand.”
Nick walked around to where the two men blocked the way. “Hi, guys. We need to go home. We were on a long trip. How about stepping aside and letting us through.”
“I would rather slit your worthless throat, pig!” The young man with a beard screamed at Nick. “Walk into the house and come back with Cala Kader. Then hand her over to us and you may proceed if we have her here quickly.”
“I can tell you right now none of that is going to happen. What will happen is I’ll call my friend in the vehicle. He’ll come out and kick your ass into next week while I decide whether to shoot the rest of your friends.”
The two men laughed, trading disparaging remarks about Nick in Arabic.
“You have ten seconds,” Nick warned in Arabic. “Then I call my friend and you get your ass kicked.”
Nick’s use of Arabic surprised the two men. They stopped laughing as Nick checked his watch while giving them the countdown with the fingers of his hand. “Time is up. What will it be boys?”
“You will not pass,” the bearded one replied in Arabic.
“Yes… we will.” Nick turned. “Hey, John. We need a demo. Your brother wants a piece.”
John jogged to Nick’s side. He stared at the bearded man skeptically. “This is not my brother. What would you like done?”
“He says they won’t move until I go in and drag your future wife out here for them to have. I told him he had ten seconds to get out of the way or you’d kick his ass into next week.”
John smiled. “Would Wednesday do?”
“Why yes, his ass into Wednesday would be perfect.”
John leaped without any side movement, the side of his foot striking the bearded one in the forehead, pitching the man flat to his back heavily. John turned, slid forward over the man, and delivered an elbow strike to his face, collapsing the man’s nose in a spray of blood. In the meantime Nick aimed his new 9mm Beretta at the man’s companions, who had surged forward. Gus’s MP5 jutted out the passenger side window. John kicked the downed man in the side. He then returned to Nick’s position.
“Well… that completes the demonstration for today of why it is a bad idea to blo
ck our driveway. Any questions?”
Silence.
“Good. Drag meatloaf to the sidewalk and stay the hell out of our way or someone will be going to the emergency room with a bullet wound or to the morgue. Today, scrotum-head! Today!”
Two of the others dragged their writhing companion to the sidewalk. Nick and John returned to their vehicle with Gus covering the men. A few moments later they were on their way inside the house after Nick garaged the SUV.
“That was the great negotiator’s best work, huh?”
“We’re walking in the entrance, Payaso. Why don’t we have a drink and leave the whining here at the door.”
Gus chuckled at Nick’s rebuke. He put an arm around John’s shoulders. “That was a nice ass whoopin’, John. I bet it felt good too.”
“It felt real good, brother. Here come our female companions. Tina is frowning. Perhaps she means to slap you around for some indiscretion you as a married man are clueless to identify.”
“Cala seems very happy to see you, John.”
In seeming response to Nick’s words, Cala ran to John, throwing her arms around his neck. John returned the hug with passion. Jean giggled as Deke streaked around her to ram into Nick before even Rachel could reach him. Nick wrestled around with him.
“I’ll bet you haven’t had your walk yet, Dekester, thanks to those nitwits out front. I’ll have a double of the Irish while you have a beer, and I promise to take you out for a stroll.”
Deke did his usual happy dance at the mention of beer. He then followed Nick around like a second skin as the group walked to the kitchen. Jean and Rachel stayed close to Nick, peering comically into his face. Nick didn’t stop. He proceeded directly to the bar area, setting out three of the larger shot glasses which he filled with Bushmill’s.
“Would you ladies like something to drink?”
“No,” Rachel answered as Nick sipped his drink with satisfaction. “We didn’t hear gunshots. How many are dead, and will the police be here soon?”
Nightmare in Red Page 4