Hell on Earth

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “It was nice of the other thugs to all skip town. Their disappearing act covers Rafe’s,” Johnny said. “You may not have to answer any questions about him.”

  “I’m glad he didn’t have a car to dispose of,” Nick added.

  “It will be nice out on the water today. It’s clear and the water wasn’t too choppy,” Gus said. “How far do you want to go out, Muerto?”

  “To eternity for Rafe. I think maybe ten miles for us. We can drop him off at the fish diner and then come all the way to the point for our fishing.”

  * * *

  Gus wasted no time angling The Lucky Lady to get her far enough away from the coast without ramming the boat into the choppy waves. Since distance meant more than destination, smoothing the ride came first. Cloud cover disappeared, allowing a balmy January cruise for Reaper and the Unholy Trio. Eight miles out, Nick checked their backtrail with his rangefinders every few minutes.

  “Uh oh. We have company, guys. Someone followed us from the dock. I see a pilot and three crew on deck. They’re not holding fishing poles either. Their weapons look like AK47s. I think we need to double our distance, Gus. Twenty miles would be far enough for a sea battle, wouldn’t it?”

  “Sure, unless we get a visit from the Coast Guard. You keep watch. Kabong can keep an eye on our radar unit. We have the best radar gear money can buy. We’ll know if we get any company.”

  “I’ll get my rifle.” Nick went below deck for a minute. He emerged with his M107 .50 caliber sniper rifle. “Bows and arrows wouldn’t do us much good today.”

  “We can outrun these guys, Muerto,” Gus pointed out. “I haven’t kicked her into high gear yet.”

  “Why would I want to outrun them Payaso?”

  Gus sighed. “You don’t like being hunted.”

  “Exactly. They’re bad guys. They all have on full face masks, hoodies, and black Nitrile gloves. Let me know when you get near the twenty-mile range.”

  The ocean smoothed considerably as Gus accelerated slightly to maintain a half mile separation, according to his radar. “We’re almost to the twenty-mile point.”

  Nick turned over spotting duties to Johnny with Cala watching through another set of range finders. Only Nick’s gun-barrel protruded from under the tarp he camouflaged his chosen spot with. “Hold her on course, Gus. This angle is perfect.”

  “Can you get them all, Muerto?”

  “I don’t have to get them all, Kabong. I need to get their pilot and lace the pilothouse with enough slugs, they will lose all control. We’re too far away for our EMP gun. Then we make sure we remain out of range and I will take care of the crew. We need a live one to question though which will be tricky.”

  Johnny called out all aspects of changing wind, temperature, and his determination of water stability. Two minutes into his readings, the M107 fired. The pilothouse windshield shattered a split second before the uranium tipped round pulped the pilot’s head. Nick fired without pause into where he estimated the controls were until the boat came to a dead spot with smoke exiting through the open front. The crew fired at them but the effective range for the AK47 was under four hundred yards.

  Gus began a circling course. Nick shot one of the crew’s arms at the bicep, rendering him unconscious from the shock. He fired two rounds through the chest of a third man. The last one hid under the railing, only to have a burst go through the railing, stitching his body. Silence after the small engagement allowed the normal noise of engines and the sea to filter audibly into The Lucky Lady’s crew incrementally.

  “Keep the circling until we make sure there’s no one capable of blasting us.”

  Chapter Nine

  New Recruit

  Everyone kept watch as screams of agony grew louder on the approach. Nick relaxed as Gus edged near the smaller craft. The survivor passed out, his chest moving only slightly. Comically, Nick stuck his knife between his teeth, and prepared to jump aboard.

  “Arggghhhh… maties. It be a fine job we did. I will see to the plunder.” After evoking amusement for his comedy act, Nick put away the knife, having no intention of cutting his face open. The leap over ended well without incident. He made sure of the dead first before applying a tourniquet to the gasping survivor’s upper left arm. Nick cut the shreds of clothing away from the arm, examining the damage. He tossed the bloody rags over the railing. “Okay, Johnny. I’ll pass the weapons over to you first. Then you throw over an empty equipment bag for anything else on board.”

  Johnny moved in the tight space Gus maintained with care. He accepted first the AK47s, followed by their dead attackers’ handguns. Nick searched for other weapons, but found nothing. He then passed over everything of an electronics nature collected in the pack Johnny passed over to him. Johnny leaped over then with camera, DNA sample kits, medical bag, and digital fingerprint pad while Nick unmasked the men.

  “What the hell?” Nick stood. “They look Chinese. Hey, Gus, have we pissed off anyone from China?”

  Gus chuckled. “Not to my knowledge. I think we’ve pissed everyone else off though. You saved some Chinese shop keepers in Chicago, right?”

  “Yes. Muerto is a hero to the Chinese/American business owners in Chicago. I want an explanation of this affront to the great Muerto, who has tirelessly fought for the livelihood of Chinese/American business interests.”

  Johnny and Cala maintained smiling calm as Gus made gagging noises. “Oh barf!”

  Nick returned to his live captive. After bandaging the extensive wound, he patiently smacked his captive into gasping, sobbing, and screaming consciousness. Nick held a syringe where his captive could see it through tightly pinched eyes. Nick spoke to him in Chinese lower Yangtze Mandarin. “I’m going to give you this for the pain. Then, you will answer my questions, or I will cut your other arm off. Do you understand.”

  Surprised, hearing his native language, the wounded man nodded in compliance. Nick administered the shot. In moments, the man’s face relaxed in incremental oblivion to the pain.

  “You are of the Hui, are you not?”

  “Yes. I am Hui. How… is it you know this?”

  “I am Muerto, the Muslim nightmare. I kill and torture the enemies of my country in large numbers. I could think of only one people who could be recruited of ethnic Chinese origin to try and kill me.”

  The man’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You are Muerto? Are you not McCarty?”

  “I am, but I am also Muerto. It seems you are familiar with my work. Do you know what I use this for?” Nick held a scalpel in the man’s view.

  “No…no… please… I do not want the cleansing! I have seen… the videos. I am dead. What… is it you wish to know?”

  “Who told you of our excursion on the boat today and ordered our deaths?”

  “A woman ordered it. She contacted our organization… through the ‘Dark Web’. We know… you…” the man began to lose consciousness. Nick smashed him across the face.

  The survivor faced the Terminator wrath with shaking head as Nick closed in on him with the scalpel. “Concentrate, or I will deliver pain beyond all imagining.”

  “Audrey Lantos! She is too stupid to hide her tracks on the web. We found the money source of the million dollars she paid for this attack! We traced her to a Congresswoman named Gree and a consulting company… run by Raymond Worthum. Their legitimacy was proven when we found them linked to Belcium Breech, the billionaire.”

  Nick translated for Johnny.

  “Yes!” Johnny exclaimed. “We are so close to the course. Confirmation of many things will require this Breech’s interrogation.”

  The man, understanding English waved his good hand. “I can deliver Breech! Spare me! I can do this for you!”

  Nick chuckled. “Good try… what’s your name?”

  “I am Jian Chen.”

  Nick nodded. “Strong name. How can you deliver such an adversary?”

  “I will act on your whim. I am your man from now until I am no more. I was raised in the Hui community
in China, sent to America within a container, to spread Islam and terror. We are very careful. We do not announce our attacks as the Arabs do.”

  “Are there any more of you in our area?”

  “No. The four of us only arrived last week in a container on the ship Zing Zoe. We had already been given the mission. We discovered the people behind the contract only yesterday. The boat we used belongs to the consulting firm. We have been watching your boat, waiting for the opportunity you gave us today.” Jian stared at Nick and spoke English. “You are Muerto. I can see many deaths in your eyes. I want out of this living death.”

  Nick’s mouth tightened. He moved to pinch off life in Jian. Johnny gripped his wrist, enduring the stare of death many did not survive. “Muerto! This man is just as I was. We can use this man. He will embrace us as family, once shown an alternative to Islam.”

  Nick considered Johnny’s appeal but reached for Jian’s throat. Jian tightened his eyes in acceptance of death. “I didn’t take your arm, brother. Some things cannot be forgiven.”

  Johnny gripped Nick’s wrist. “I will protect you from all things, Muerto. I feel this man’s commitment. We need him, brother, and he needs us. Cala and I will take this man in and train him to your will, brother.”

  Nick gripped Jian’s chin in a powerful grip, preventing all expression. He released Jian reluctantly. “I don’t like this, Johnny.”

  Johnny patted Nick’s hand. “I know, Muerto. Let me take responsibility for this man, my brother.”

  Nick locked eyes with his real-life brother in all things. “If you’ve seen what I have not, I will trust your judgement.”

  Nick pinched Jian’s cheeks with both hands. He spoke in Jian’s dialect of Chinese. “We will make you well. If you betray Johnny and Cala, I will make your death last for weeks. You will embrace hell with passion when I let you die. Do you understand?”

  Jian met Nick’s stare with determination. “I am your man from now until my death, Muerto.”

  Nick patted Jian’s cheek. “Let’s transfer our new convert to The Lucky Lady. I’ll fix this attack craft for Davey Jones’ Locker. We’ll add Rafe’s parts to the boat too.”

  * * *

  Nick looked over the pilothouse where he had strapped the eviscerated bodies, prepped against bloating, strapped by their belts to immovable railings. “You guys look so comfy. I hope you all like your coffin. I will make sure none of you ever surface. Adios. El Muerto… away!”

  Nick vaulted to the deck of The Lucky Lady without problem. Nick set his M107 to the position he wanted. “Okay, Gus. Move away a bit.”

  Gus eased The Lucky Lady from the hulk of the Hui vessel. Nick fired burst after burst below the waterline, causing the boat to sink slowly. When he was sure it was on its way to the ocean bottom, Nick lobbed an ET-MP grenade onto its deck. The resulting explosion hurried the boat’s descent.

  “If we’re going to save Jian, we’ll need to get moving, Gus. We’ll get him in at Community Hospital. I’ll tell them we found him clinging to a raft while we were out fishing. Maybe I can get Paul to give us a better cover for him. Money talks, so the hospital will admit him. I hope they can save his arm.”

  “Best give him another shot. This will be rough.” Gus accelerated to maximum safe speed while Nick gave Jian another pain killing shot.

  Needing a cover story, Nick called Paul Gilbrech.

  “Nick?”

  “Yep. I need your help. We were attacked by Chinese Muslims at sea, if you can believe it. The contract was ordered through Worthum, Rackson-Gree, and Belcium Breech. A woman named Audrey Lantos did the contracting. We’ve recruited a survivor who may be able to help us. Johnny wants to keep him. He needs extensive repair to his arm. I’m taking him to Community Hospital. I need a cover story in place, making him an agent working undercover. His name is Jian Chen.”

  “I’ll get it done. The DOJ is much more helpful right now. I’ll make some calls. We’ll make your new man a US Marshal. I will send Johnny a draft with my signature and the DOJ’s sign off. Are you sure about this?”

  “No.”

  Paul chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll send me an updated report. Good luck. Clyde has the packet for your cover story and residence at The Avenue. It will be delivered today. By the way, your rampage in Chicago is still holding water.”

  “Rampage? It was a surgical strike.”

  “Right. Anyway… the gangs are reaching out. Rumor has it businesses all over the city have banded together with signs on their shops and buildings stating ‘Protected by El Muerto’.”

  “Neato. I’ll send the report by the end of day. Thanks, Paul.”

  “Anytime, brother.” Paul disconnected.

  Nick explained the cover story to his companions. “Paul’s sending you a draft with his signature right away, Johnny. I cleaned Jian’s arm but if the hospital detects a gunshot wound, they’ll call in the police. When they do, we’ll have to rely on our cover story. Jian knows English. We’ll tell him to say as little as possible.”

  “Do you think he can help bring down Belcium Breech?”

  “I doubt it, Cala. Chen won’t be completely well, if he survives, for months. I am hopeful they won’t discover what’s happened this morning until I get to DC. I don’t know if they’ll check the hospitals or not.”

  “You will not regret this, Muerto.”

  “I hope not, Johnny.”

  * * *

  The doctor sat down with Nick and his boating companions. “Marshal Chen is out of surgery. I believe we repaired most of the damage. Feeling in his arm will, of course, not be the same. I do think he will regain nearly all movement. That was quite a story you told at admittance. If not for the document from the Department of Justice, cosigned by the Director of CIA, we would have been forced by law to contact the police.”

  “Your confidentiality in this is vital,” Nick replied. “Jian infiltrated a gang of Hui Muslim terrorists who came in aboard a container ship last week. The CIA cannot operate in the mainland, so we were called in to work with the information they supplied. A battle at sea ended in Marshal Chen being wounded. He barely escaped the ship before it exploded.”

  “My God… that’s incredible. The hospital staff and I will do everything in our power to keep this incident quiet. I understand you are paying the medical bills.”

  “Yes. We don’t want a government hand in this anywhere. We are still investigating the method these terrorists used to get here in secret. I will handle all bills. I want Jian to have the best of care. Spare no expense.”

  “Thank you. We will help him recover.”

  “How long will he need to stay in the hospital,” Gus asked.

  “I can’t answer that at this time. We’ll need a few days to determine how well the surgery succeeded. If the operation was a complete success, he could be released to an outpatient rehabilitation center, like Monterey Surgical Center.”

  “Sounds good. When can we see him?”

  “Later this afternoon. I’ll call you the moment he can have visitors. Does he have any family?”

  “He is part of our crew, but has no relatives here,” Johnny answered.

  “I’ll wait for your call, Doctor.” Nick shook hands with him.

  * * *

  “That worked,” Gus said. He drove away from the hospital. “The explanation fit perfectly. It’s a good thing we don’t need secrecy. Chen’s status will be all over the hospital on the rumor mill.”

  “We will be taking a close look at the container ship he came in on. We’ll get that information later. I think he understood what I told him about saying as little as possible, but he was groggy.”

  “I alerted John Harding about the Hui infiltration. They have a very large Chinese community in the north,” Johnny said. “San Francisco has had sweatshops there busted before. An infiltrator could be hidden in the city easily. How pervasive do you think this Hui Muslim threat to be?”

  “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve heard of them ca
using trouble outside of China. They would be a perfect infiltration force, much like the light featured Albanian Muslims. Did John get back to you yet?”

  “He texted his crew would investigate. He also promised to have his ex-Russian mob boss friend ask his shipping contacts about the container ship.”

  “Alexi Fiialkov is a good man with a lot of power. I hope he can learn whether it was a one-time occurrence, or if this Zing Zoe ship has a reputation for supplying containers to bad people.” Nick paused a moment. “I have to admit that was a very good plan to kill us. If those guys had been prepped to go after killers, they might have blown us out of the water. From now on, we’ll be a lot more observant at the dock.”

  “We have an outstanding security system with wide angle video, Nick. I’ll see if I can spot the boat that came after us. Remember, we have cams on our docking station too. The boat left shortly after we did. I’ll find them,” Gus promised.

  “It still looks like the best defense for us is me fixing the DC problems.”

  “What about that Audrey Lantos woman,” Johnny asked.

  “I can’t go after her right now because we’ve already had her arrested. If she disappears, we’ll be the first ones questioned. We’ll deal with her later. For now, we’ll collect the kids from school and ask Sed whether Lantos left with the others. Rachel’s working at the Monte today. I’ll warn her to stay on alert.”

  “Tina usually joins her during slow times. I’ll call and warn her too,” Gus said. “I hope this new wrinkle is a one of a kind glitch. Like you said, we could have had our asses blown up this morning.”

  “How come a Chinese illegal alien gets to be a US Marshal and I am simply Cala the unofficial tag-along groupie of the Unholy Trio?”

  “Talk to your husband,” Nick replied. “He’s the one who made me do it. I wanted to make you a US Marshal long ago, but Kabong kept saying you weren’t ready yet, and you’re too young, and you’re already too bossy.”

  The slap fest went into full swing as Cala attacked the helpless Johnny, who laughed as hard at Nick’s answer as Nick and Gus did.