Nightmare in Red

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “We know, brother,” John said. “We stay out of the kill zone until we see you. If we see him instead of you, we shoot on sight.”

  “We’ll take everyone to the backend of the trolley until we see you. Don’t do anything fancy, Muerto,” Gus told his friend. “Shoot him in the head. I’ll call Paul the moment the deed is done. The release orders will be waiting for you, so get down with your hands locked, and let them take you in. You said yourself this is a bad one.”

  “Everything will be under consideration. He’s in position. I have to go shopping and then head to my appointment with Felix.” Nick turned deadly serious. “No joke. If I miss him, take everyone and head for the hills. Get Paul to have Clyde fly you all to some place in Montana for at least six months or until Paul can get Moreau. He will kill you all if he has enough time to find and plan.”

  “I bet this crap has made you consider an extra ingredient in all our excursions from now on,” Gus said.

  Nick shrugged. “You’re right. From now on I take my M107 with me everywhere. If I had it with me now I’d find a nest a couple hundred yards from him and blow his head off.”

  “Yep, and a couple of hand grenades.”

  “I will see you guys on the other side. I’ll be the one in the pirate outfit.”

  “You’re doing the approach as a pirate?” John did not look enthusiastic upon hearing the new information. “Do you really think he will fall for that?”

  “You haven’t seen my pirate act, John. I’m very good.”

  “I’ve seen it,” Gus said. “It’s not even close to good. You are probably the worst pirate I’ve ever seen. See if you can get a duck costume.”

  “That’s it, Payaso. You are now reduced to sub minion of El Muerto.”

  “Woe is me.”

  * * *

  Felix glanced at his watch in the tree’s shade at the outside corner of the Old Burial Point enclosure. The day was perfect with overcast gray clouds to Moreau’s thinking. He sat on the other side of the stone wall around the Point. He worked over the CZW 9 Czech lightweight submachine gun from his briefcase under his suit coat cover. Once he had it ready to fire to his satisfaction, he rested against the wall with his knees up. The adrenaline rush from doing McCarty and his family would be a buzz Moreau felt he would enjoy for a long time to come. A cool ocean breeze blew across the park adding to the atmosphere of intense certainty flowing through Moreau.

  A few minutes later as Felix stood to take position with his coat covering the 9mm submachine gun, a guy dressed in authentic pirate garb strode across from the nearby open cemetery talking to everyone he walked by. The kids were especially intrigued with the sword at his side. With all black garb, wide boots, black beard, eyepatch, and full black tricorn hat, the man was amusingly entertaining enough to attract Moreau’s eye. The man strode purposely on a course that would bring him near the wall ten feet beyond Moreau. The pirate waved at him as he went by with a big grin sporting a gold tooth. Moreau nodded at him. Moreau turned toward where he expected his target would appear with family and friends.

  A moment later, the pirate called to him. “Hey Felix… think fast!”

  There was no thinking fast for Felix as he turned in time to take the blade of a black handled throwing knife to the hilt in his neck with enough force to throw Moreau back against the wall. He sagged to the ground, snatching at the knife handle. The moment he plucked it free, the stark reminder of why you don’t remove an object like a knife from an arterial wound became an instant illustration. Arterial spray coated everything in front of the choking Felix. Forgotten were targets, submachine guns, best assassin accolades, and why he had ever come to Burial Point.

  The pirate joined him, sitting next to the assassin as the arterial spray lessened every second. He took out a DNA evidence swab and collected a blood sample along with the bloody throwing knife. The pirate then took a picture of Felix’s full frontal pain contorted, gasping face. “Hi there, Felix. Sorry about the method. It was a matter of professional courtesy. I see you brought along a CZW 9 to wipe out me and mine. Very nice weapon. Unfortunately, I can’t take it with me. I see your putrid life is passing in front of those beady little eyes of yours, so I’ll be on my way. You’ll be grateful to know I’m going to collect a very respectable bounty on your ass. I’ll see you on the other side, partner. No hard feelings, buddy… just business. Nighty-night, buckaroo.”

  Moreau watched the pirate with black wispy tendrils filling his vision’s fading light. He collapsed with silent finality to his side. As if in concert with Felix’s last seconds, the pirate turned, crouched and gave Felix a last finger wave before doing a dance step forward. By the time the pirate returned to his original path, Felix’s wide staring eyes blinked once before all light fled his vision forever and a day.

  * * *

  Rachel spotted Nick first. He maneuvered into the tour group as they arrived at The Old Burial Point. Nick enveloped her in his arms as she hugged him. Jean was next with Sonny giving Nick a smiling wave. “Let’s keep moving with our tour. Everything’s cool. We can enjoy our day in Salem.”

  “Can we stay for the lights to come on at night,” Jean asked.

  Nick traded nods with John and Gus. He patted Jean’s shoulder before positioning Quinn inside his baby carrier pouch on his chest. “Sure. It’s going to be a long day though. How about it, Rach? Want to see all the scary lights after dark?”

  “As long as we stop for sustenance along the way, I’m in. Where’s the pirate costume you talked about, Captain Muerto?”

  “Gone, lass. The black hearted swashbuckler demonstrated his stylish bearing and bid adieu for the time being. He was well received by many of the public, especially the kids, but we don’t want him remembered in conjunction with-”

  Screams nearby interrupted Nick’s pirate disappearing act explanation. The rest of the tour rushed to find out who was screaming and why.

  “-screams and violent deeds. C’mon everyone. We need to show our curiosity toward these loud declarations of shock as the other tourists are doing.”

  The Salem police arrived to investigate a rare occasion in their town – a murder.

  “We have all day passes to hop aboard the trolley today,” Nick mentioned. “I believe it may be necessary to skip the Burial Point part of the tour for now. We can come back later.”

  “Gee, I wonder who had his day in Salem ruined,” Tina remarked.

  “Probably a stranger who checked out one too many scary events,” Nick replied.

  * * *

  “Damn fine job, Nick. Did you question him at all?”

  “Are you stupid?”

  Paul Gilbrech chuckled appreciatively. “Sorry. After I had the body removed from the local authorities and claimed Federal authority over the case, the locals were ecstatic. I know you have another signing tomorrow. Would you mind going over to the address we found he has in Boston and doing a run through before the FBI sends in a team? I asked them to hold off until I talked with you. We don’t know his target, and I’d like to find out who hired him.”

  “Those are good questions. I’ll do it. I was going to remind you I’m not a cop, but I’d be interested in the ‘who’ answer. My money is on the Hutchen girl. Text me over the address. I’ll go there early tomorrow morning.”

  “Her Grandmother, April Hutchen, is a very good friend of mine. April is a billionaire but It’s become widely known she’s a friend to me. It would mean a lot to me if you can find a trail leading to the one ordering the kidnapping. I’m afraid it could be me they’re after in the blackmail attempt.”

  “Is this April friend where you’ve been managing to get extra help here and there?”

  Silence.

  “Paul… you dog. Fear not. Inspector Muerto is on the case. Inspector Muerto cannot have both his boss and benefactor threatened or blackmailed in any way. See, even us psychos can care about someone.”

  “It’s true. April means a lot to me. Her family is my family.”


  “Understood. Your enemies are my enemies, brother. The Unholy Trio will solve this mystery one way or another.”

  “Thanks, Nick. Moreau found by that tree all by himself with a submachine gun was bloody awesome. If I find out any more details I’ll send them directly to John. Is John as fast as you are on the computer?”

  “Damn close. We’ll be in touch.”

  Nick turned to John and Gus sitting at the bar with him. “We have another mission, but it’s just info gathering at Moreau’s place.”

  “We caught pieces of the conversation,” Gus said. “Paul has a billionaire girlfriend. He’s damn good at the political and financial ends in this Federal game show of ‘show me the money’. Without his head in the game, I’m thinking the days of ‘The Unholy Trio’ would be numbered.”

  “You think right. First thing tomorrow morning we’ll hit Moreau’s place.” Nick gestured at their families watching a movie, noticing Jean fell asleep with her face buried into Sonny’s shoulder. “How goes it on the home front?”

  “Real good,” Gus said. “The deal with the signing tomorrow takes the heat off us for going on another journey of enlightenment. I’m not sure how long it will last if we find anything at Moreau’s place we have to do something about immediately. Maybe we could move quickly enough to be done tomorrow night.”

  “It doesn’t help when we don’t know if we’re searching for animal, vegetable, or mineral,” John added. “I think Cala plans to go with me tomorrow if that’s okay.”

  “Sure John. Rachel and Jean thought the signings were exciting until they actually went to a couple. Tina refused after the first one. Jean and Sonny want to go tomorrow since Rachel and Tina have a shopping day planned.” Nick filled Deke’s beer bowl. “You inhaled that first bowl, Deke. I think you may have a drinking problem.”

  Deke snorted while lapping the beer up.

  “What time do you want to go tomorrow?”

  “Six, Gus. The FBI will want to tear the place apart since Moreau was on both Interpol and FBI’s most wanted lists.

  “I wonder what Mr. Gilbrech’s expectations are for what we’ll find at Moreau’s place. It would not seem feasible for a professional assassin to carry around incriminating evidence of kills or contracts. When Moreau carried a smart-phone with his kills and kidnapping victims, encrypted or not, it shocked the hell out of me,” John said.

  “It’s not so surprising. We’re funny birds when it comes to paper trails, accounts, or storage. Moreau put his files on a smart-phone he could destroy instantly. He figured a lot like me, that if they ever got my phone or laptop I’d be dead anyway. I’m hoping he kept a laptop. I don’t want anything happening to Paul. Depending on who it is asking I plan to handle actionable intel on the down low. It may be better for everyone concerned if a problem person after April Hutchen or Paul for money or blackmail purposes simply disappeared forever.”

  “The mission cover Paul’s provided is habit forming, Muerto,” Gus said. “If you start going rogue on him, he may not have anything else he can do besides let your ass swing in the breeze.”

  “I’m not going rogue, Payaso,” Nick said with some irritation as his friends enjoyed his discomfiture. “Some actions might be better done where no one but the three of us know what happened. I’m thinking of cutting down The Unholy Trio to The Unholy One like the old days.”

  “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself without your minions, Muerto,” Gus said. “It’s our duty to point out weak spots in your plans. Let’s have another sipper. We need to toast your hit on one of the most dangerous assassins on the planet.”

  “Agreed.” Nick refilled their shot glasses. “You guys really helped a lot today. The phone cloning and GPS tracking made all the difference in getting Moreau. He didn’t have a clue he was being stalked. I guess we’ll have to keep the band together in spite of disrespectful comments about El Muerto. Muerto does not appreciate being upbraided by the minions of Muerto.”

  “Nice one, Payaso,” John complained. “Now you have Muerto talking in third person again. It will be an hour before he returns to first person.”

  “Muerto is right here. There’s no need to talk as if El Muerto was not sitting in the room with both of you.”

  Gus held up his shot glass. “Here’s to Muerto. He killed the bogeyman today. Rot in hell, Felix!”

  “Amen to that,” John said.

  Nick smilingly clinked glasses, but while sipping the toast he wondered in reality how much separated him from Moreau. He glanced down at Deke lying at his feet contentedly. I’ll bet that prick Felix never had an animal that liked him in his entire life. For a reason beyond his understanding the fact a dog loved him made Nick feel better, because he knew deep down he was just as much a bogeyman as Felix Moreau ever was.

  * * *

  “Shit!” John did a thorough once over datamining for anything on Moreau’s laptop with every word triggering accounts, banks, terrorists and shady deals he could think of before doing an in depth line code check. “Muerto! You and Payaso need to see this.”

  While John worked the laptop, and other tablet they found, Nick and Gus meticulously inspected every square inch of the Boston condo Felix had been staying at. The two partners found a couple of weapon treasures. Moreau traveled heavily armed in a way Nick never figured an assassin of his caliber would do. That meant to Nick he had a personal caddy to his jobs, meaning an employer who had a personal jet. Moreau was not a lone shooter. He was a shooter with high end support. The Unholy Trio were suitably impressed with Moreau’s residence on Atlantic Street, the building manager said rented for seventeen thousand dollars. The place was under 24/7 monitoring now with updates sent to Paul at least once a day.

  “The bastard has a damn Stinger missile,” Gus exclaimed. “It’s the kind you can fire more than once too. I don’t know if you can top that Kabong.”

  “Come and see. You two will not believe this thread I found. Most importantly, I know this link is to the man who ordered the kidnapping.”

  Nick put the very cutting edge TrackingPoint digital smart rifle he’d found in its case again. He joined Gus and John. Omar Fontaine, the billionaire who wanted Cala, stared out at them from the personal security file Moreau encrypted. John broke the code in three minutes.

  “Fontaine hired Moreau in 2013 exclusively. What Fontaine didn’t know was Felix is not a trusting soul. Every chance he got to spy on Fontaine, he gathered information into the file we’re looking at on screen. It contained secret accounts Moreau had to have found inside Fontaine’s own computer system. I need to take this stuff for further analyzation. You can already see Moreau hacked Fontaine’s innermost accounts… not financially, but where payouts were directed and where they came from. No question he hired Moreau for the Hutchen kidnapping. The reasoning behind it could be really convoluted.”

  “I’m seeing where you’re going with this. Fontaine wanted me out of the game. He has enough money to know I pay my debts in death. Figuring to aim me in a different direction, Fontaine hired Felix to kidnap April Hutchen’s Granddaughter, knowing April was on the arm of one CIA Director Paul Gilbrech. It was a simple win/win situation. An astronomical money payout in addition to Gilbrech taking me down hard either permanently or in prison. I believe Paul would quit before he did that. He’s a psycho like me. We just leave a situation like that.”

  Nick sat on the edge of the bed. “It means Felix didn’t know me from Adam until on the boat when he sent out my picture. Fontaine compartmentalized this operation to make sure it couldn’t be traced back to him. All this because I was interfering with his enslavement of Cala from the cave dwelling Kaders? I’ve had some strange events fall into place for me through partly dumb luck and partly being in the right place at the right time. This happening is the harmonic convergence of coincidental dumb luck.”

  “You know the old saying, ‘it’s better to be lucky than good’,” Gus said. “Your game today, sharpening your instincts simply hit at the right moment. W
e’ll need a plan now, brother.”

  “Oh… I have a plan,” Nick said with certainty. “If the lead pans out with Fontaine being behind this, I’m betting there’s more to having Moreau kidnap the Hutchen girl than putting me in my place. If I was the only incidental target Fontaine was after, why not have Felix go after me directly? I think we’re on to who the man behind the curtain is, but we need to dig deeper for the full breadth of his plan.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Gus said.

  “You’re right, Muerto,” John agreed. “With time I will piece this together. It has to be more complicated with multiple targets Fontaine hoped to disrupt or distract from something besides weddings and your matchmaking. Should we keep the weapons too?”

  “Absolutely,” Nick answered. “I admit I’ve only heard of the TrackingPoint smart rifle. That Moreau has one doing private sector hits is a bit extraordinary. It’s probably a toy in his tool cabinet like the Stinger, paid for by Fontaine, but for what purpose? I’m getting a bad feeling about this. In your scan did you run across any other locations Felix had for future dates?”

  “Not yet,” John answered. “I have only scratched the surface though. Do you think Fontaine was tied in with the Queen Mary II and Boston Harbor targeting?”

  “The grander scale fits better than weddings and matchmaking. Fontaine would have power and money enough to work the strings from backstage thinking never to be caught.”

  “You said you had a plan,” Gus said.

  “I’ll confer with Paul but the only course I can determine is to end Fontaine. That he had a world class assassin on his personal payroll means he’s not only interested in his next oil deal. We’ll need cover on a hit of this magnitude, but even Paul can only go so far in helping us with Fontaine. I’m not sure how many politicians Fontaine has on his string but I’m certain it’s a far greater number than Paul has. One small edge we have is if we can prove Fontaine ordered the Hutchen girl kidnapping, we can enlist Paul’s lady friend who also has a fortune onto our side. After all, the kidnapping target was her Granddaughter. It’s possible Paul can play those dueling fortunes off against each other in regard to the politicians. I’m sure April Hutchen waters the political garden the same way Fontaine does and Hutchen is an American.”