Cold Blooded Assassin Book 7: Hell on Earth (Nick McCarty Assassin)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  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.

  * * *

  “What the hell are we doing here,” Lynn asked.

  “I’m meeting with Alexi to discuss this container ship angle Nick warned us of, Diva. You could go home and clean the house.”

  My words garnered amusement at our Warehouse bar spot, especially from her husband, Clint. He absorbed a slap to the back of his head. I hadn’t been together with the Monsters for a couple weeks. We kept a low profile after the Yakuza fiasco. I was summarily stripped of my heavyweight UFC title after I executed the sumo guy in the cage. I did get a zillion hits on the YouTube videos posted. The fans barked back at the UFC hierarchy, demanding my reinstatement. I didn’t care about the belt. I won it.

  “You do know there will be blood, Cheese.”

  “Bring it… Diva. I call the Monster Squad shots. This is important. We can’t have any container ships arriving to dump assassins on our asses. I would have thought you’d be revved to the max at a threat like this. We even have Spawn here. Say something official, Denny.”

  Denny shrugged. “I just follow orders. Cheese calls and I am here. I’m simply the fruit-loop middleman between the squad and our boss. I’m beginning to think he’s taking orders from Muerto. You’ve all seen the Chicago binge by our deadly buddy south of us. He killed so many gang members, they’re asking for police protection.”

  Hilarity ensued as all us Muerto fans enjoyed Denny’s breakdown of Muerto’s vacation excursion to the ‘Windy City’ death zone. No one questioned how the number one assassin in the world had his compass point aimed at Chicago. We did enjoy the results of one very effective alteration in the Chicago killing fields status quo. Alexi entered the bar then. The serious look on his face shut off our lighter moment. Mar took one look at his face, and our favorite barkeep produced a Bud and Beam brother combo for him. He smiled and gripped her hand for a moment.

  “Thank you, my love.” A moment’s gaze after, Alexi turned to we assembled monsters. “It is as Nick warned. The container ship Zing Zoe is an omen of doom we have missed, my friends. They have luckily only been in operation for a short time. I have their manifest here. No one moves on the docks along this coast I do not have insight into. I have spread our money into places no cartel or foreign entity can prevent or duplicate. The Zing Zoe will dock here tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What will it mean, Alexi,” I voiced our squad’s mantra. “We’re with you. What kind of presence do we need when they dock?”

  “Full bore, John. I have three containers to be dealt with under suspicion. My sources told me the Zing left from the Port of Los Angeles where I believe Muerto’s new recruit was left off with his brethren. The ship then sailed to the Port of Santos in Brazil. It dropped off cargo and boarded many for the return trip to the Port of Oakland. The suspicious containers originated in French Morocco at the Port of Casablanca. The containers seals were broken while in Santos, and resealed before leaving for Oakland.”

  “Then, we’ll board her the moment she comes into port,” Denny said. “Do you have anyone on board you trust, Alexi?”

  “Yes. That is the real reason I am worried. He texted the seals had again been broken. They may have had a contact interval with Jian Chen’s group. When they didn’t check in, someone on board broke the seals.”

  “Meaning it’s possible a hostile force hijacked the ship,” I said. “I imagine you’ve tried to contact your man ever since the last message, correct?”

  “Every fifteen minutes,” Alexi replied. “They are not maintaining radio silence, but other than brief position reports and weather requests, no other communications are happening ingoing or outgoing. I agree with your assessment, John. I believe they control the ship. The Zing Zoe is an E-Class container ship with a crew of between thirteen and thirty. A small force could easily overcome the crew.”

  “I’m getting satellite images now.” Jafar already worked his super-laptop with fingers moving at light speed. “I found it. The helicopter pads are empty. We can move on them at sea with both the UH-60M Stealth and the Mi-24. Denny and Lucas can pilot the Sea Wolf into position as support with Dev, Tommy, and Jess crewing if they want a piece of this. Laredo and I can fly the helicopters.

  “I’m in,” Tommy said.

  Dev and Jess both echoed Tommy’s statement.

  “Good formula, kid,” I told him. “I like it. I’d want you to circle for support with Laredo landing a strike force in the UH-60M. Crue and Samira can fly with you in the Mi-24. Sam shoots very well with the M16A4. Crue has already shot the M2 .50 caliber machine gun in support of an assault.”

  “Music?”

  “Sorry, Ahab, this will be a rescue mission, not a salt the earth or sea operation. I wish we could.” I paused for a moment as an idea for the music raced into my head. “Damn… what if you approached from the distance with music at full blast, all the way to the Zing?”

  Lucas pumped his fist. “Yes! I could drown out the Stealth swooping down, along with enticing all eyes and ears on the Wolf! I’ll work the dual themes all the way. I bet Laredo sets our troop carrier down before the crew knows what hit them.”

  “It will be close order, dusky dawn, hostage rescue work,” Clint added. “We shoot anything or anybody reaching… period.”

  “Absolutely,” I echoed our assassin brother from the more southern coast. “We live. The bad guys die. Collateral damage may happen. I also think in the beginning moments of the engagement, after Laredo lands the strike force, Jafar hits them with maximum ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ while Crue and Sam fire at available targets or inanimate objects with short bursts. The assault force can do a walk in the park. They may fire at the Mi-24 or at the Wolf. They will be confused. We will not be. It all ends in only dead bad guys… but this is war. I repeat. We live, they die.”

  A chorus of agreement rang out with Crue the most vocal. “All I want to do is fire down on a ship with the M2 in the midst of the ‘Ride’. Everything else is just cake.”

  “This puts another slant on things. We thought we’d messed their container ship infiltration for a lot longer time period. They went right back to work screwing us over,” I stated. “This is bad, my friends. There are eleven thousand containers on one of these vessels. I don’t like this new paradigm at all. We go tomorrow morning before dawn. We meet at the House of Pain at 4 am. Is that-”

  “Hey, Hard Case… you cheap chump!”

  I glanced at the doorway with disbelief at the sight of who bad mouthed me. The last person on earth I expected to intrude on my life was, Eugene ‘The Rattler’ Comings. He hired on with Rock Costigan, giving him pointers on how to beat me. It didn’t work out, but Eugene waved at me before exiting the cage. I thought at the time he understood how silly this all was, especially since I absolutely hurt the other handler who attacked me: Eric ‘The Berserker’ Northman. In spite of reality… here he was… pumped up on something. If I had to guess, I’d pick methamphetamine. I waved away my companions, allowing the very skilled warrior to approach. Eugene began another diatribe. I stopped him with a wave of my hand.”

  “We parted on good terms at the fight, Eugene. What’s this all about?”

  “You crippled my man, The Berserker. Northman and I were set to fight for a chance at the belt until you finished Rock Costigan and cheap shot my climb to the top again. You owed me! Now… you get stripped of your belt so any fight between us would be a punch-drunk contest without a paycheck!”

  “Ah, hell, Eugene… you’ve been drinking. Let me get you a cab so you can go home and sleep it off. You should have called when you got into town. We could have met with Tommy and figured a way around this. Alexi and Tommy have contacts in the UFC. You barging in here sets off alarms having to do with other situations separate of UFC fights.”

  “I would be interested in managing you, Eugene,” Alexi said. “Did you actually visit here to confront John? He
doesn’t run the UFC. They’re working to strip him of his belt. Why did you not protest to the UFC with others to get him reinstated. You had to be either watching this bar or have someone watching John or the places he frequents. I can tell on the faces of my friends here they think that was an extremely bad idea.”

  Rattler looked around him, scanning the faces of my grim Monsters. We joke and enjoy a few laughs at the expense of enraged Snow Whites. We don’t allow them to stalk us. Reality began to seep into Eugene’s inebriated mind. “I…I know he hangs out here.”

  “You couldn’t beat John, stone cold sober, and in shape,” Devon Constantine reasoned. “What was it you thought to gain by stalking him here?”

  “Dev’s right,” Jesse Brown added. “This punk move can get you killed. You know John doesn’t only do UFC fights. These are all killers around us. Somethin’ don’t smell right here, Eugene. You ain’t that stupid.”

  Rattler knew he made a mistake. Lynn moved close to Rattler. “It would be best if you told us what this visit really means, and honey, I’m getting impatient to know. When I get impatient, I get to the cuttin’.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to come in here,” Eugene admitted, sobering at a rapid pace. “I started having a few pops… and I lost control. The fuckin’ money dried up after I lost to Costigan. I jumped at a paycheck to help Rock train with the provision the winner of a Berserker/Rattler fight would get another shot at the title. Rock was scared. I knew he’d get his ass kicked. I figured with you crippling Northman in self-defense, I’d get a shot at the belt.”

  Eugene paused. He shrugged after a moment. “I needed the money. I spent like I was king of the world. I was your only logical choice in the heavyweight division other than a procession of dangerous old-timers.”

  “We get the picture,” Tommy said. “Who paid you to pull this trick off and how was it supposed to end?”

  “I was bait.”

  “You were supposed to lure me somewhere in a challenge match, right?” The fuzzy picture cleared in my head. “Not Alexi’s warehouse… somewhere else… where?”

  “A place near the docks. I get twenty-five thousand if I could get you to fight me, day after tomorrow, on the docks.”

  We Monsters found Rattler’s revelation a great fit for our other problem at the docks. “Who writes the paycheck?”

  “Some guy representing a consulting firm. He said they have branches everywhere. I checked on the internet and I only found a few – one out here in San Francisco, one in New York, and their home office in DC. They claimed it would be for a promotional gambit they were doing with the UFC. I knew that was bullshit. Look… let me get the hell out of here. This idea was stupid. I’m sorry about following you.”

  “One question,” I said. “Was the firm called Worthum and Associates, or something like that?”

  “That’s the one: Worthum. How did you know?”

  “We’re having some trouble with them. What bunch were they using as a front group for you to fight for? I’m assuming this was supposed to be an Oaktown Cartel challenge.”

  “It’s a Black Lives Matter front group establishing a presence in Oakland, called East Bay Solidarity Movement. A woman, claiming to be from Worthum, named Audrey Lantos, was the contact I had. We were to meet tomorrow evening to discuss the details of how she wanted me to frame the challenge.”

  “Good info. I have another proposition for you. I’ll give you twenty-five grand to meet with Audrey and her friends tomorrow evening just as planned. We spring the trap and you go home with twenty-five grand and your head still attached to your shoulders.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. We are investigating Audrey Lantos in connection with a terrorist conspiracy. We want her for aiding, and abetting terrorist infiltrators, inciting riots, and ambushing police officers. The money is yours if you can keep your mouth shut until the operation concludes.” I took out a thousand dollars and turned to Tommy. “How much you have on you, T?”

  “I have two.” Tommy gave over the cash.

  I handed the three thousand to Rattler. “That’s a down payment. I’ll give you the rest after the meeting with Lantos.”

  “You’re trusting me with three grand?”

  “Casey… tell Eugene what happens if he absconds with our money.”

  “I hunt you down and shoot you in the head,” Casey told him in matter-of-fact-terms. “There aren’t any takebacks. If you take the money and agree to meet Lantos for us, we will wire you for sound she wouldn’t have a clue about.”

  “I understand.” Eugene put the money away. “I have Tommy’s phone number. I’ll call him the moment she contacts me. Thanks for this.”

  “If the courts give me my belt back, I’ll give you first shot at it,” I told him. We shook on it and Eugene left.

  Jafar held up his iPad. “When he mentioned Audrey Lantos, I put Nick on with us to watch and listen.”

  Nick waved from the screen. “That was so sweet, Cheese. Who says you can’t give a sucker an even break. A down on his luck UFC fighter decides to set you up for a kill shot and you give him a job and twenty-five large. You’re just a big softie.”

  “Are you done?” Yeah, the Monsters were tittering away in amusement.

  “I’m done,” Nick answered. “Hell of an idea to nail Lantos now. I confess to other plans after what she pulled down here. Achmed explained what you have on for tomorrow. Would you like company?”

  “We have it covered, Nick. I know you’re heading to DC for a showdown with some of the money lenders. You take care of that. We’ll send you a video of our ride tomorrow morning. We’ll be mission enabled by 3 am, so you won’t be able to reach us until after mission engaged. We don’t want a word of this out before hand.”

  “I look forward to seeing it, brother. I wish I could do a highlight reel from DC, but it’s going to get too delicate for Monster tastes.”

  “Just come back in one piece and we’ll have a party to compare notes. I’ll have Jafar send you our strike time and plan. We’ll report when we finish the operation and have the container ship in our control. If you can keep an eye on Audrey Lantos, we’d appreciate it.”

  “Will do.” Nick waved and was gone.

  “You wouldn’t have fallen for that dock setup, would you?”

  “I don’t know, T. We’ll fix our own gettogether on the docks. If there are any of those East Bay Solidarity posers left alive, you can ask them.”

  “We’ll need one or two of the hit squad on the ship to live,” Lynn said. “Lantos won’t show unless she thinks she has snipers waiting to kill us. If we don’t get them, we’ll have to hunt her down or let Muerto handle her.”

  “Agreed. We’ll try and get a couple. As always, we’ll have to dig out the leaders. They’ll be hiding while they send their minions to battle us.”

  “Are you planning to fight Rattler again,” Tommy asked.

  “We don’t even know if I can get my belt back. If I get the title back… why not?”

  “Because he can rearrange your face again, and for what, a little payback for this misunderstanding? Duck him and fight some lower down contenders.”

  A little misunderstanding? “Brother… we’ve been together a long time. When did I ever consider luring me into a deadly ambush with all of my friends a little misunderstanding?”

  Tommy almost continued the useless line of reasoning. “I got it. Rattler’s going to wish for the Valentine’s Day massacre if he ever gets in the cage with you again. I hope he keeps his mouth shut like he said he would.”

  “I cloned his phone,” Jafar stated. “We will know.”

  “You are scary good, Achmed.”

  “Thanks, Jess. It’s a piece of cake. Nearly everyone leaves their phone discoverable.”

  Lucas said it for everyone. “We know what we’re facing. Get some sleep, and let’s get it done. We know these assholes don’t have just us as a target. They’re coming for America! I ain’t into goofy pep-talk crap. This is
different. We have to stop BLM connected infiltration at all cost. They don’t give a shit about America! They are an enemy without doubt! Let’s handle them as such.”

  We all took what Lucas said to heart. Without a word, my Monsters finished their snacks and bar drinks. It was time to go home and get prepped for the operation. A solemn goodbye heralded a time before dawn where we would either defeat this threat or die trying. Not a single face I confronted showed any sign of angst at what we had to do. It was another day in Monster-land in defense of the greatest nation on earth.

  * * *

  Nick used his US Marshal credentials to find the doctor who had contacted him from the hospital. Jian called for him and would not calm down until Nick was summoned. At nearly 2:30 am in the morning, staff at the hospital were unsure where Dr. Roger Baker was. They refused to allow him to simply go to Jian’s room until Dr. Baker accompanied him. Finally, at the emergency room desk, a middle-aged doctor approached rapidly to speak with Nick.

  “Are you Nick McCarty?”

  “Yes.” Nick noticed the man’s nametag read Baker. “You said Jian Chen demanded to see me?”

  “He became so animated, I thought I would have to restrain him. I promised I’d call you right away. It was the only thing that calmed him. Come with me.”

  In Jian’s room, the man gestured at him animatedly, speaking Chinese. “I remember something important! The container ship Zing Zoe! It is picking up a contingent of twelve men from the Middle East. They will be assaulting the special forces unit in the East Bay, led by someone named John Harding. My group was to kill you and your crew and then join with the raiders in the north.”

  Nick smiled, patting Jian’s arm. “They have it under control, Jian. Thanks for letting me know about the plan. That would have been invaluable if my friends in the north did not already have a plan in place.”

  Chen relaxed slightly. “I hope they are prepared. They will have an attack helicopter on board, protected against discovery by some form of stealth cover.”