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

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “She…she is gorgeous… and very intelligent,” Jafar managed to finally blurt out while glancing back at the door furtively as we walked away. He seemed to be expecting Samira to run after him as if they were Romeo and Juliet.

  “She’s the whole package, kid. I’ll grant you that. You do realize we have a job to do. I can’t have you mooning all over Samira while you’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for killers and items out of place, right?”

  “I merely did exactly what you told me I was to do, Mr. Harding.”

  I laughed while grabbing the little smart-ass in a Vulcan neck pinch as we made our way through the lobby. “Keep up the good work but with a little less enthusiasm.”

  “Very well,” Jafar agreed, hunching his shoulders up comically under my assault.

  As we’re approaching my Chevy the prick starts needling me.

  “You should have a 007 car. This is not the car of an experienced agent.”

  “Don’t make me regret bailing you out of jail you ungrateful turd. I’m seeing signs now that having hit it off with our Ms. Karim you think it appropriate to begin assuming facts not in evidence – such as the fact I won’t even blink while I twist your head off.”

  Jafar started he-hawing for a moment while entering my very reliable Chevy. “Samira will be very upset if you kill me, John.”

  I get in and start the Chevy up. “Yeah, well she won’t be here forever, my shortsighted friend. Very quickly you will be waving goodbye to your young love and wondering where all the time went while I consider ways of maiming you that won’t show.”

  “I think I’m in love with Samira,” Jafar states with a sigh. “I am already missing her.”

  “I’ll see if I can dig up a picture of her old man. That’ll blunt your urges a bit.”

  “After dealing with your Father did old crazy guys scare you?”

  The kid had a point. I’d forgotten how similar our backgrounds were. “Badee Karim, her Father, makes your old man look like Homer Simpson.”

  “You could put in a good word for me, John.”

  “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, keep your eyes open. We’ll only get one shot at this. Chardin will be hanging around looking for inroads into possible recruiting amongst the crowds drawn to hear Samira speak. He may have also been hired to whack her and he’ll be scouting. This guy will not be killing himself to get the job done. Frankly, we’ll need a little luck and I hate having to depend on luck. His relationship with the religion of peace appears only to have monetary strings. Chardin probably gets a fortune for doing a job on foreign soil. He’d probably whack people for us if we paid him enough.”

  “Why would our government pay him a fortune for what they can get you to do for peanuts?”

  I marched right into that one. Jafar is growing on me. “All levity aside I get paid respectably for my work. Ever hear the old cowboy phrase ‘I ride for the brand’. If not for the Marine Corps I’d probably be in prison. I’ve been overseas all over the place. One thing I know – America is the greatest nation on earth. Maybe I could soldier for the highest bidder and make a fortune but I ain’t ever going to. I ride for the brand and I’m an American – first, last, always.”

  “You have been all over the Middle East. Can there ever be peace?”

  “If we quit playing around and win… then yeah. If you mean can there be compromise… then no. In an American victory all sides may live still within their own culture peacefully. In a compromise with suicidal idiots there can only be submission. Have you ever been to the mosque in Fremont?”

  “No but my Mom took me to the Masjid Al Islam mosque in Oakland. Do you believe in God, John?”

  I glanced over at the next light. He met my gaze without humor. “Yes, but not the one Islamists use as an excuse to strap bombs on kids.”

  “Do you think all who follow Allah wish to subjugate the world?”

  “I think far too many who don’t, keep their mouths shut while others in their religion attempt it. They don’t speak up for women forced into female genital mutilation, burkas, and beatings. They don’t speak up against ‘honor killings’. They don’t speak out about the suicide bombings against innocent people of their own religion. All of those items share something in common – they are not in the Koran.”

  “Samira speaks out against these perversions.”

  “Yep, and it only takes one psycho to shut her up. If there were millions like her speaking out every day against these perversions as you call them, she would not be in danger.”

  I shut off the Chevy in front of my house. Jafar was quiet. He seemed to be mulling over what I had said. The neighborhood looked quiet even for a Monday night. I had my old Chevy’s windows changed to an opaque tint if looking in from the outside. After dark I take a nice leisurely look out the windows before exiting my chariot, especially when no neighbors were visible outside. Jafar waited, sensing I had seen something.

  “Is something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, none of the neighborhood vehicles parked around look unfamiliar and the houses all have lights on. I don’t see any telltale glints of light so we’re good to go, at least as far as it’s humanly possible to detect. Remember our talk about noticing things even slightly out of whack. Well, add this to the list. Always commit to memory vehicles in any place where you have to be for any length of time. When you spot an unfamiliar vehicle don’t shrug it off. Write down the license number and keep an eye on it until you know who owns it. This is our business, kid.”

  “Because Samira is checked into a public inn, it’s impossible to know every vehicle in the parking lot. Best we can do with that is notice loiterers and people not moving purposely toward a destination before we expose Samira in the open. Even tourists have destinations. They don’t walk around gawking at the hotel they’re staying in. We’re always methodical and careful, especially in a case involving a professional assassin. Chardin would be watching from a vantage point near Samira but far out of sight, like the marina you perceived of before. Tomorrow, before we pick up Samira, I’ll get us to a place we can check out the marina and go over some of the basic tenets of surveillance.”

  Jafar looked past me over my shoulder as I heard a vehicle slow. “I think you’ve got company.”

  In a split second I had the .45 caliber Colt in my hand from its custom sheath under my seat. I shifted without causing movement inside the car as a late model, gunmetal gray Mercedes eased next to the curb one house from mine. “Stay still. These windows are opaque from the outside. Let’s see who it is. Dive into the back seat if I go out the driver’s door and stay down.”

  No one exited the Mercedes. Its windows were as impossible to see through as mine are. Five minutes passed. Jafar remained attentive but otherwise calm – no fidgeting, telltale hand movements, or facial tics. My young recruit represented the main reason our armed forces like to get their trainees enlisted young. He would be a reliable asset in very short order. I hoped we wouldn’t have to find out how fast he could leap into the backseat tonight.

  The Mercedes doors opened, disgorging two familiar figures I hadn’t planned on seeing anytime soon – Ray Alexander and his hand puppet James Bonasera. They stared at my house for a few more minutes before walking toward the door. The men’s hands were empty. Both wore dark thousand dollar suits which could and very likely did cover concealed weapons. Alexander strutted along with his bowler hat at a jaunty angle while Bonasera’s head swiveled nervously. That they would approach my house when the lights weren’t on could mean anything. They knew my car so they figured I was home.

  “Get in the back slowly, J. I don’t want these two seeing you just yet. You have enough trouble to deal with at school. Looking over your shoulder for my two visitors you can do without. Stay down and quiet until the Mercedes leaves.”

  “I’ll be looking over my shoulder anyway,” Jafar whispered as he slipped athletically into the Chevy backseat and down. “Hanging with you is like being in Kandahar.”
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  I chuckled and stuffed the Colt under my shirt in the back. “Samira isn’t in Kandahar.”

  “Good point.”

  I exited the Chevy and slammed the door, jolting Alexander and Bonasera. Alexander’s hand had reached inside his coat but Bonasera simply put up his hands.

  “Hello, boys. To what do I owe this unusual visit?”

  Alexander let his hands drop slowly to his sides and I took my hand off the butt of my Colt. Bonasera moved a few steps toward me gesturing in a calming manner. “Hi John. Sorry to bother you at home. Could we talk to you privately?”

  “Sure.” I walked past them to my door, disabled the alarm system, and opened the door. I listened very carefully for any rustle of clothing which would have been a precursor to my planting Alexander. “C’mon in.”

  “Just like that, huh?” Alexander put a restraining hand on his partner. “No threats, no warnings?”

  “I don’t do threats or warnings, Ray. If you mean will both of you gentlemen leave in the same condition you’re in now, that all depends on how our conversation proceeds. If we all use our inside voices respectfully I’m certain we can part company without incident.”

  “I’m watchin’ you, pug,” Alexander warned.

  A second later I had Ray pinned by the throat to my doorframe with his Heckler/Koch 9mm automatic in my hand. Bonasera leaped aside with his hands visible. He was no dummy. I squeezed until both Ray’s hands were clawing at my hand and his eyes were bulging to the dancing beat of his feet.

  “No reason for you to watch me now, Ray. Since we have the preliminaries over with, let’s all go inside and sort this out.”

  I released Ray with a little push toward the inside of my house. He stumbled slightly while choking and gasping breath back into his lungs.

  “Sor…sorry, John,” Bonasera apologized while easing around me into the house.

  “Don’t worry about it, Jim. Me and Ray were just having a sidebar. I admit to being a little hurt we couldn’t have a conversation after the fight without a sniper. Just out of curiosity, what was that all about?”

  “We were afraid you’d react badly to taking a dive,” Bonasera admitted, helping his still wheezing partner to straighten.

  I nodded my understanding while I popped Alexander’s clip and cleared the chamber before shoving it back into the holster under Ray’s coat. “Nothing personal then, just precaution?”

  “Honest to God, John. We wanted you to hear us out. Now we’re in a world of shit. We saw your set to with the Russians outside the Warehouse Bar on YouTube.”

  “Meaning you and Ray here realize I didn’t tip everyone off about the ‘dive’ offer.” I led the two through the house and into my kitchen. I poured us all a shotsky and gestured for them to have a seat. I set the shot glasses down in front of my guests with the bottle within our reach. Both men downed the shot while I sipped mine. Bonasera refilled their glasses. “Although I sympathize with your plight, how can I undo our little talk? Even the councilmen were talking dive at the bar according to my cop friends. The Russians put out the word on you guys quick. It’ll be near impossible to put that genie back in the bottle.”

  “We…we figured the Russians tried to get you to do the same thing,” Alexander rasped out in obvious pain. He threw down another shot.

  “Did you tune up the Russians because they wanted you to take a dive same as us, John?” Bonasera kept his voice in a low key modular tone.

  “Nope. It’s always business with me, guys. One went for my companion and I had to make a statement. Then during the negotiations for exactly what you figured the Russians were there to offer me the big guy decided he wanted a piece too. After I changed his spark plugs, me and Alexi Fiialkov came to an agreement I would not be taking a dive. I agreed to put my fight career on hold just as I promised you two. The only difference being the Russians weren’t dumb enough to get recorded offering a fix.”

  “That was stupid. We got greedy and threw a very profitable business right out the damn window.” Bonasera chugged his shot and refilled all the glasses.

  “They set us up,” Alexander added.

  I smiled as a nice puzzle piece slipped into place. “It was Fiialkov’s idea to approach me, huh?”

  “Fiialkov’s man there was at my side the moment you smashed Rankin’s face when he charged you,” Bonasera explained. “He knew they were in for a big loss the moment it happened.”

  Nice hedge. Even I didn’t know for sure at that moment. “How much?”

  “Fifty thou if we signed you for a rematch on their terms.” Alexander’s voice was making a comeback but his attitude wasn’t. Good thing for him.

  “You have to understand, John, nobody thought Rankin would lose,” Bonasera stated. “The bigwigs and the Russians lost a bundle. Fiialkov played us to offset losses and take over our gig. Now, Ray and I are radioactive.”

  “If you know I didn’t bug you guys and I’m not in league with the Russians, what am I supposed to do about your situation?”

  “Can you come clean on the Russians offering you money to take a dive in the proposed rematch?” Bonasera pleaded. “We can spin it so-”

  My laughter cut Bonasera off. I didn’t get it under control for a little bit. I kept the coincidental meeting with Fiialkov to myself. “Jim, I like you. Your loss of employment grieves me deeply. We’ve had a decent business relationship but you and Ray here are on your own with the Russians. I’m actually doing you a favor. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Fiialkov has you boys followed 24/7. If I did what you wanted me to do, they’d figure it out in two seconds flat and you and Ray would be in a landfill somewhere. My advice is make peace with the Russians and offer to run the fight game for them.”

  “Shit, Harding! We’d-”

  I pointed a warning finger at Alexander. “Inside voices, Ray, or I’m going to change your spark plugs.”

  Alexander took a moment to swallow his rage past the bruise on his neck. “We’d be bottom dwellers in the racket we created. We gave you your start when-”

  I held up the stop sign on that one. “Oh please don’t start the violins. You two gave me nothing and you made a nice tidy sum on every fight I had because I’m a good draw. Either start again somewhere else or play ball for the Russians. Those are the only two safe options open. I’m sorry, but Fiialkov nailed you guys. I’m out too. Luckily I have a day job.”

  “But listen-”

  “Forget it, Ray.” Bonasera stood up and tugged on his partner’s jacket. “Let’s go. John’s right. We screwed up. There’s no use dying for it. I hope the Russians aren’t following us, John. They’ll be leaning on you if we led them over here. I didn’t even consider that angle.”

  “Damn it,” Alexander mumbled, getting to his feet and heading for the door with Bonasera. “I’ll have to sell the Benz.”

  I followed them to the door. “That’s better than someone else selling it for you to buy a coffin with. Since the Russians won’t let me fight in a match they’ll be hosting I could see my way clear for upfront money to fight an opponent in a couple months with you two hosting. That is if it’s possible to shore up your reputation by then.”

  Both men swiveled around with mouths open in surprise. Hell, it’s just business. Besides, they haven’t heard my price yet and they’ll need an opponent I haven’t already beaten that will look like he has a chance. After Rankin, that won’t be easy.

  “You mean that?”

  “Sure, Jim, but it’ll cost you.”

  “How much?”

  “Five thou up front and the usual arrangements for everything else.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  Bonasera hushed his partner up and extended his hand. I shook it. “Agreed, John, but it will all be riding on whether we can find an opponent for you – someone from out of the area with their own draw. Ray and I will have to small time it until then. Some of our clients won’t want to deal with anyone new. Are you sure it can’t be sooner than two months?”


  “Positive. I have a security gig to get clear of Tommy and I are working on. Besides, I didn’t come out unscathed from the fight.” I lifted up my shirt.

  “You ain’t kiddin’.” Alexander whistled softly checking out my solid black and blue tapestry. “I should have got me a piece.”

  “Shut up, Ray!” Bonasera rightly figured Ray was getting ready to commit suicide. “John would bury you before you could launch a punch. Let’s go before he changes his mind. Thanks, John. If we ever get up and running again, it’ll be straight up. Do you think the Russians are following us?”

  “Yep. Don’t let them play you using anything they claim I say after tonight. They won’t get shit from me. I’ll be around.”

  I stayed inside the doorway as Bonasera and Alexander walked down to Alexander’s Mercedes and got in it. Their tail was two houses back on my side of the street. Moments after Alexander drove away, the black Ford Five Hundred I spotted followed them. When they were all out of sight, I walked to the Chevy and motioned for Jafar to come in.

  “That Ford didn’t park back there until you were in the house. I wrote down the license number.” Jafar closed the Chevy door and handed me a piece of note paper.

  “Well done, J. I saw them and memorized the license but I’m glad you noticed.”

  “They are following the others?”

  “Yeah, they’re Russian mobsters looking to get control of the backstreet fight game. The ones I talked to are the two dummies who formerly ran the fight game. The Russians duped them into asking me to take a dive and got a live recording of it. The dummies were here trying to get me into the same shit pile they’re residing in. I told them the Russians were probably following them. I bet they’ve bugged the car too.”

  “I saw the way you handled them going into your house. What are you going to do?”

  Not wanting to speak outside, I motioned Jafar inside and we went into the kitchen after locking up. The couple shots I had with Alexander and Bonasera tasted so good I poured another to sip and sat down. “Get a glass if you want. It’s been a long day.”