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

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I doubt he’ll rearrange much on you. Your daughter would notice. For the record, you’re lucky you didn’t mess with Tess. You better steer clear of the family business genius. Stick with your day job. What do you do for a living anyway?”

  “I work as a plumber for one of the old man’s construction businesses.”

  “Good. Offer to work this off for any price Alexi wants if he’ll consider it.”

  Tolver grimaced. “He’ll work me like a slave. Maria will never let me off the hook.”

  “Sounds like it’s time for a lifestyle change. Be the best you can be – best plumber, best husband, and most of all, best Dad. They say those that can’t do should teach, so teach your Daughter how to be respectful of others. Take comfort in being alive with all your major organs intact. Final piece of advice – don’t ever cross my path again.”

  Five minutes later a familiar black Expedition parked behind my Chevy. Two men jumped out. One was another old buddy, Mikhail Rowan. He and his companion kept their hands where I could see them.

  “Viktor’s in the backseat.” I opened the door for them. They eased the room temperature Russian out of the Chevy and into the Expedition, following him without comment. Fiialkov got out and walked over. He pointed a finger in Tolver’s direction.

  “You owe me much. Thank God little Mishy loves you and Maria doesn’t wish to start over.” He waves Tolver to silence when Timmy starts to speak. “Where are you parked?”

  “Around the corner.”

  “Drive to my place. We’ll follow. Go sit in your car until we leave.”

  Tolver jogged toward his car. Fiialkov smiled at me and shrugged. “Family. You are much more than what you appear, John. I checked with some of my sources and found out you have traveled extensively. The people who tell me things say rumors exist of a man knowledgeable with languages who fits your description being in the general area overseas where a target of opportunity has ceased to exist. You have many skills other than fighting in the street.”

  Boy, Denny’s really going to like this news. Fiialkov’s not getting his info off the Internet. “What can I say, Alexi? I get bored. I don’t suppose you’d like to share who these sources are, would you?”

  “I don’t think so, John. We can come to an agreement though. I don’t want terrorists blowing up stuff here either. It might be my stuff. I admit I am guessing somewhat. You are watching a young woman famous for anti-terrorist leanings and speaking out. Also, I have heard a very dangerous entity might be in the area who wishes everyone harm.”

  I’m making a few guesses myself now. “You have friends at Interpol.”

  Fiialkov’s eyebrows rise slightly, accompanied by a slight glance away he can’t take back. He smiles. “Not just a pug.”

  “I would welcome any intelligence from anyone, Alexi. I imagine you’ve been told about the visit I had from my two old fight promoter friends.”

  “Yes, of course.” Fiialkov waves a hand in dismissal. “I knew you were too smart for those conmen. I’m surprised you agreed to fight on their ticket though.”

  I’m surprised he knows about it already. “You did tell me I couldn’t fight on your ticket.”

  “Or in this area… but no matter… competition can be exhilarating. Getting a sponsoring role in the matches locally has been a goal of mine. If Bonasera and Alexander had been more amenable to a partnership none of this unfortunate business about throwing fights would have come up. I have another proposition for you to consider, John. What would you say to a rematch with my man Rankin in a UFC bout?”

  Interesting, and far too close for my tastes with Government Inc. I decide to fish in these waters for the moment – Interpol buddies or not, this kind of coincidence will make Denny mental. I can hardly wait to tell him. “We’re both banned from the mixed martial arts circuits, me because of an accident, Rankin because he’s an asshole.”

  Fiialkov chuckled. “You have a rather corrosive way of putting things. I believe I can fix those problems if you’re interested. UFC people are on a constant lookout for controversial matches. It has become much like ancient Rome recently, the bloodier, the better. Rankin has been the best prospect I’ve had. If he had been under my wing when he started, my influence would have tempered his actions that ended in his being banned. I had hoped to use his win over you to obtain his reentry into MMA or UFC.”

  “How’s he doing anyway?” As if I cared.

  “Van will need three months minimum before he can train effectively. You upset my UFC plans considerably. Perhaps I could offer you a contract to replace him.”

  “I have a handler, Alexi. Let’s keep our relationship on a more friendly basis.”

  “Very well. Thank you for sparing my idiot son-in-law. Although I’m sure Viktor had much to do with this stupid idea, it would have been very difficult dealing with Tim’s death.”

  “Tim was smart enough not to harm Ms. Connagher.”

  “Yes, I am sure that is the only reason I received a call. I will be in touch if I hear anything of value to you. Good evening, John. Give my proposal about UFC some thought.”

  “I will, Alexi. Other than trading some information or conducting fight business how about we stay out of each other’s way for a time, okay?”

  Fiialkov laughed and waved his assent before getting into his vehicle. I watched them drive away without my sixth sense screaming setup in my brain. I entered Tess’s house with some reluctance. My inner alarm may not be buzzing over Fiialkov now but it definitely started chirping on my way into the house. Jafar sat with Tess in the kitchen. He looked up at me in relief. Tess glanced up a little blearily. She appeared to be about three sheets into the wind. Being taken hostage has that effect on people.

  “You did very well, J. Go out to the car. I’ll be along shortly.”

  Jafar remembered his manners before leaving so quickly it appeared he was fleeing the scene of a crime. He turned and waved awkwardly at Tess. “I’m glad you’re okay, Ms. Connagher. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Jafar. Thanks for your help.”

  After Jafar left I sat down opposite Tess. Sometimes all the wishin’ and hopin’ in the world can’t ever repair what happens to us when life takes a sharp turn of sorts. I could tell in Tess’s face the turn we had dealt with tonight may have been a little too sharp. She wanted to fire at me with all guns blazing. Her eyes didn’t look dulled by alcohol in the slightest. Tess’s pressed together lips twitched slightly with the impulse to string a few hurtful accusations my way, but reason won out. Tess leaned back away from the table, tension easing slightly from her features.

  “I guess this was about… both of us?”

  “It was mostly about me. Fiialkov didn’t know about it. There will be no more Russian involvement in anything. I can’t say hanging around with me is particularly safe though.”

  “Small doubt about that. You didn’t happen to trade my hostage taking for a favor from Fiialkov by any chance, did you John?”

  I don’t blame Jafar for wanting to cut and run. This could get ugly. I’m about ready to pull the pin on a few word grenades after that question. It’s not like I didn’t explain the dangers involved when she decided to play middleman for Strobert and Government Inc. Playing the innocent caught up in a vicious world because of her violent friend card plucked the wrong chord on my harp. The look on my face sobered Tess up a bit. When I saw a softening around her eyes, I bit back the response that would have ended our friendship forever. I stood up. Time to go.

  “Would you like a ride somewhere, Tess? I don’t imagine staying here after-”

  “I’ll be fine, John. Like you said, the danger’s past. A couple more of these…” she held up her shot glass, “and I’ll be right as rain.”

  “Call me if you need anything. Best to lock up tight after I leave no matter what. Do you have a gun?”

  “No.”

  I held up the 9mm Ruger from under my shirt. I kept Timmy’s Taurus 9mm with me. I didn’t kill him tonight but that
didn’t mean I wouldn’t frame him without blinking an eye if I had to. After showing her how to jack a round into the chamber, remove the clip and clear the chamber, we went over basic safety rules. Once Tess worked the safety and practiced what I showed her a dozen times it was time for me to go. I’d been responsible for enough damage tonight.

  “I’m sorry about what I said, John. That was stupid.”

  “It’s been a long day and night for you, Tess. Don’t worry about it. I wish my crystal ball for danger worked better. Remember to keep a round in the chamber with safety on. Bring the weapon up to firing position like I showed you, click safety off, and squeeze the trigger with the first pad of your trigger finger. Don’t drink anymore. Guns and alcohol don’t mix but this is a special circumstance. No more to drink though, okay?”

  “I understand.”

  “Goodnight, Tess.” I started for the door.

  “I still want to be partners.”

  Nodding my head with a grin, I glanced back on my way to the door. “Does this mean the weddings off and I can date your sister?”

  I kept heading for the door, hearing first a gasp of indignation and then laughter.

  “Payback’s a bitch, Harding!”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Jafar waited for me to say something when I eased into the passenger front seat. I got nothin’. He started the car and we drove in silence to the house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Unlikely Terrorist Connection

  Next morning my workout began at five in the morning when I felt like punching something. Jafar peeked in at me around seven holding up a cup of coffee. This kid was better than a butler. Sweat poured off me in accompaniment to the throbbing from my ribs. Pain, my old friend - back to keep me company with gentle reminders of my fallibility. Jafar grinned at me as I took the cup out of his hand with a nod of thanks.

  “I said nothing to Ms. Connagher although she threatened me with bodily harm after my third ‘I don’t know, Ms. Connagher’.”

  “Well done, young Jedi. Take the Chevy to school. The keys are on the table. Keep the cell-phone on you. I need to confer with the rest of my crew for tonight’s escort gig. Try to keep your mind on school and not daydreaming about young Samira.”

  Jafar snorted disdainfully as we walked to the kitchen. “Do you think I am a Cylon Robot from space? I will daydream all day long about tonight and still get A’s. I am the man.”

  Cute. “Very well, man, but I expect you to have your game face on tonight. Don’t be drooling like a lovesick putz and forget what our job is.”

  “I won’t, John. Thanks for the car. I’ll return it in pristine… I mean the same battered form it’s in now.”

  “Stay out of trouble you little wiener.”

  * * *

  We all met at The Warehouse Bar. Devon brought along Jesse Brown. Tommy remembered the business end, bringing along employment and insurance forms. I had chauffer’s licenses for Tommy and Devon which I gave them before we went in The Warehouse. They already owned conceal/carry permits. We had the Warehouse to ourselves except for Marla handling both bar and table honors. After trading a few barbs with Marla she left to get us coffee and the day’s luncheon special.

  “Jesse’s out of a job,” Devon explained. “I got him on security where I work but he could use a bigger paycheck. Any chance of him coming in with us, John?”

  Jess was perfect for crowd control but we weren’t working under our own auspices. “How do you guys know each other?”

  “We were in the same unit together.”

  “Good reference. You’re hired, Mr. Brown.” I shook hands with him. “This might turn into something more than a couple extra paychecks. Me and Tommy have a new business enterprise in the works. The woman lawyer you’ve seen with us is coming in as a partner. We plan on doing a variety of things: skip traces, escort services, bodyguard gigs, and some government work. I’ll need to vet you with the government but it shouldn’t be a problem, Jess. We’ll be escorting a young lady tonight for a time. Why don’t you come along? We’ll be out in the open so an extra pair of eyes would be welcome.”

  “I’m in anytime, John.”

  “Dev called me.” Tommy held up his paper folder before passing out a packet from inside to each man. “I didn’t figure hiring Jess would be a problem so I brought along an extra packet. Fill those out before tonight. Do you have a conceal/carry Jess?”

  “Yeah, I had to get one for working the door at the fights. Dev said some of this stuff’s dangerous.”

  “This gig watching Samira Karim would definitely qualify under dangerous.” I passed out the Blackberries Denny gave me at my equipment drop. “I’ve programmed people of interest in these we need to be watching for. The main guy you’ll notice I’ve fitted with all manner of projected disguises. Study them before we get together again. Don’t approach him. Alert me. Tonight should be basic escort stuff with me and a kid I acquired Dev and Tommy know named Jafar Kensington – we’ll handle close contact. Still want in, Jess?”

  “Hell yeah. This is good. I figure you owe Dev and me for ending our fight careers.”

  I laughed with my three accomplices. “We may not be out of the fight game entirely. There’s a lot going on in the background for the future.”

  After our luncheon, Tommy dropped me off at home. I’d taken a cab over to The Warehouse. I filled him in on my prior night’s adventures over coffee. He wasn’t happy.

  “Damn, John, you nearly lost our partner before we even started. How’d Tess take it?”

  “Pretty well but I believe after last night she’ll be opting for partnership only without romantic entanglements.”

  Tommy chuckled. “Too bad. Tess is a good match for you. She needs to ride the wave and quit taking it all personally. I can’t believe you let Tolver live. That was some real self-control there, John.”

  “At first, Tess thought I sold her out for good relations with Fiialkov. I think it was a heat of the moment thing though. She apologized later.”

  “I’ll bet she did. At least your negotiations are improving. I wish I could have seen Alexander’s face when you told him it’d cost him five thousand up front. Don’t think I missed the parallel course your government and Russian friends seem to be trekking with the UFC fights. Quite a cover for whatever the hell it is you do… and no… I don’t want to know what it is. The crew you have for cover will be left holding the bag if something happens to you.”

  “That will be one of the details I’ll need to work out before considering it. I thought my negotiating with our former fight coordinators would have pissed you off, Tommy.”

  Tommy laughed. “Yeah, you did stumble into my rice bowl a little, partner. It’s a nice figure though and about all those two weasels could afford anyway. How do you feel about fighting Rankin again?”

  “In what way?”

  Tommy stopped smiling. “You know what the hell I mean, John. If not for Rankin rushing you and getting his face busted, I’m not sure the old Harding cement-head charm would’ve worked. I’ve grown fond of you, redneck. I’d hate like hell for you to end up dead in the octagon with that Russian dancing bear.”

  “We may all end up dead guarding Samira Karim. You don’t see me wringing my hands over your possible demise do you?” More new ground broken. Tommy never lost any sleep over my fights before. “How about this, T – oh Tommy, I’m so scared of that nasty Van Rankin. He might separate me from what little brains I have. Whatever will I do?”

  Tommy cracked up half way through my falsetto fight worries, especially since my faux falsetto came out in a scratchy baritone. “I’m hoping Rankin calls it a career. If he gets you in the right hold, Rankin won’t stop even if you tap out and the referee jumps his ass.”

  Okay, now it’s personal. “I don’t tap out for anybody. What he does after I’m unconscious I ain’t concerned with. You’re right about one thing – he gets me in a submission hold I’ll be dead or with something broken. Maybe we could get
Jack Korlos to referee with his sap at UFC. He’s never lost anyone.”

  “You may wish for that in the final seconds, buddy. I’ll be there, John, but like I said, I’d rather Rankin doesn’t fight again. A mistake free Rankin will be one tough mother to beat. Admit it. You thought of going over to the hospital and finishing him off.”

  “Did not.” Yeah, I did.

  Tommy shook his head, smiling with that knowing look he knows annoys the shit out of me. “I knew it. We’re businessmen now. We need to steer clear of the lawless element like Rankin.”

  “You mean duck him. Not going to happen, T. When Van heals, the Russians want to help the government put me in the UFC. That’s good business, brother. I never figured to be able to get on the circuit again. It means money without bribing politicians to look the other way or possible gun battles while collecting our winnings.”

  “Do you have some secret weapon to deploy against Rankin in a rematch because I think he saw everything you’ve got last time out?”

  Fair question. “I got nothin’.”

  Tommy laughed and stood up. “You better find something before you face off with Rankin again. See you tonight, John.”

  “Listening to you, T, I’m beginning to think I must have lost the fight and no one told me.” I called out to him on his way to the door. He continued out, chuckling to himself while flipping me off.

  That little conversation made me want to hit something again. Instead, I turned on a music mix disc put together in my admittedly whacky tastes for everything from classic to country. With coffee in hand, government issue dazzle cell-phone, and a Fall breeze chilling me just the way I like it on my front porch steps, the need to punch something receded. My old house on Lyon Avenue didn’t have any exotic views but I’d been around the world enough to know what I liked - no waterfalls, no mountain ranges, no arctic wildernesses, and no breathtaking desert landscapes. Sitting on my steps, listening to music with a Northern California wind off the ocean in my face, and looking out at my neighbors’ trees swaying gently completed my favorite vista. Still early in the day with most people at work, the neighborhood’s quiet time remained quiet except for a few cars passing on 38th Avenue.