Bloody Shadows

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Say… you wouldn’t be looking for those three guys who tried to mug me a little while ago, are you?”

  “Oh boy,” Nick mumbled loud enough for his cohorts Payaso and Kabong to hear along with the ‘Geezer’. “Plan B guys, steady as she goes.”

  * * *

  “What’s plan B, Gus,” John asked as Gus started his Ford.

  “Drive the hell into position fast, and get a gun in your hand as you arrive,” Gus replied through gritted teeth.

  “On it,” John said, fumbling around in his equipment bag.

  * * *

  “What the hell are you sayin’ old man?” The driver edged nearer to Dan, his fists clenched. “Are you sayin’ you know where my friends are?”

  “Sure do, kid. They’re lyin’ dead over there not more than twenty yards away.” Dan pointed in the exact direction where the bodies lay, having made a point of remembering by way of the vegetation, and rocks along the path. “I can show you if you’d like.”

  The driver stared at Dan as if he were a new arrival on planet earth. “Did you kill them?”

  “Sort of,” Dan admitted. “I was bait for your punk friends to mug. Unfortunately for them, I brought along a couple friends of my own. They made sure your buddies would never hurt another soul.”

  “Maybe I cut your heart out right here, old man.” The driver clicked a switchblade into place, jutting the blade threateningly toward Dan.

  Dan eased slowly down to calm Deke. “Stay Deke. Don’t move.”

  After standing straight again, Dan gestured at the guy in the dark with the knife. All fear of death was a thing of the past. “I was discharged from the Marines back in 1969, kid. I’ve been on borrowed time ever since. You know what they say though, there’s no such thing as an ex-Marine. Maybe I’ll take that knife away from you and shove it up your ass.”

  The driver laughed, pocketed the knife, and began drawing a 9mm Glock from his waistband holster. “I believe you.”

  Before he cleared it from its holster, he was dead, Nick’s knife jammed to the hilt under the driver’s chin. He pulled it free of the twitching body as the man dropped to the roadside. “C’mon, Geezer.”

  “You should have let me handle it, Muerto,” Dan replied as Gus skidded his Ford to a halt near him while Nick took a quick picture, and fingerprint impression.”

  “You can’t always get what you want… you can’t always get what you want,” Nick sung the old lines from the Rolling Stones song perfectly as he stuffed the driver back into his car.

  “I guess we won’t have much to worry about besides your singing,” Dan observed. “This fog will make it impossible to see this guy’s car until someone gets within a few feet of it.”

  Gus motioned impatiently. “Will you two get in the damn Ford? I’ve had enough playing cops and robbers tonight. Let’s go sip a couple on Muerto’s balcony and call it a night.”

  “Yes,” John agreed, sticking his head out the rear window. “I am starving to death too. Playing cops and robbers gave me an appetite.”

  A moment later, Gus drove slowly toward Nick’s house. The fog made it impossible to see more than a few feet past the headlight beams. The fog lamps made the driving slightly less dangerous, but it was a treacherous drive. Gus breathed a sigh of relief when he parked his new Ford.

  “Man, I think I’ll walk home if this fog doesn’t lift,” Gus said. “You won’t be able to go home either, John. The driving would be brutal to the Carmel Valley house.”

  “John can sleep over at my place if the fog doesn’t lift,” Dan offered.

  “You cannot trust me, infidel. Are you not worried I will slit your throat in the night like an Isis coward?”

  Dan chuckled while roughing Deke’s head. “I’ll take my chances, throat-slitter. Wake up, Deke, we’re home. I think Deke wants a beer.”

  At the mention of the word beer, Deke began bouncing around in the back until Nick opened the door. Deke streaked for Nick’s porch. Nick shook his head as he eased out of the Ford with his equipment bag. “You’ll have to wait until we get to the porch, goofy. John reminded me I promised I’d look into that supposed Isis training camp Paul mentioned yesterday. He says they have satellite footage of gunfire, and even explosions.”

  “How is your friend, Mr. Gilbrech,” Dan asked as they neared Nick’s door. “It’s been a while since he contacted you. That Isis bunch killing at will overseas makes for bad press here. Who in hell would let any of them into the country to start training camps.”

  “They need jobs,” John replied, which garnered much amusement from his companions. “Perhaps they are training in these camps to be short order cooks.”

  “I’m glad Paul didn’t mention my going over in the sand,” Nick said, disabling his alarm system, and using his retina scanner he had installed for Rachel and Jean’s protection. “Gus can tell you. Our last jaunt over in looney land turned sour after I finished the job. We were lucky to get home, and we unknowingly brought along a couple of problems I had to sort out close to home.”

  “It was bad,” Gus agreed. “Nick handled Nazari, but our CIA contact tried to have us killed. It piggy-backed with us home. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at this suspected training camp. Where the hell is it, Nick?”

  “I have to establish an alibi for my meeting with Neil tomorrow. Rachel and I fixed everything up on the balcony, so let’s take the conversation there.”

  Rachel met them inside the door, very far along in her pregnancy, and showing it. “Hi guys. Jean and I were on the balcony watching the fog show. How many did you kill tonight, Muerto?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Dear,” Nick replied, as his companions hid amusement in varying degrees. “We would love to join you on the balcony. I’m surprised you’re allowing Dagger to stay up tonight. Although it’s Saturday night, I figured your 10 pm curfew was still in effect.”

  Rachel shrugged. “She rolled me again as usual. Without you around, Jean either blackmails me into submission, or promises something extraordinary in exchange.”

  “Don’t leave us hangin’,” Gus said, as they followed Rachel upstairs with Deke already causing a commotion with the aforementioned Dagger on the balcony. “Which was it?”

  “Blackmail.”

  “Details,” John said, exchanging amused glances with Gus.

  “Never you mind, John. What goes on in the Muerto household stays locked forever inside the minds of its inhabitants. By the way, Tina joined us, Gus. She walked over, claiming she needed to get some air, and keep the size of her ass in check… her words.”

  Gus coughed to cover his snorting enjoyment of his wife’s words. “I have no comment on your quote from my lovely wife that would not lead to either my evisceration or emasculation.”

  “Noted,” Rachel said. “I am glad to see you all back here safe and sound, especially your new recruit: Dan. Bait again, I’ll wager.”

  “No comment,” Dan said. “I wish you were as observant of items at the Café Monte when my coffee cup is empty.”

  Rachel gasped outside the door of the balcony. “Dan!”

  “I call ‘em like I see ‘em, my friend.”

  Rachel smiled. “Do you know why it’s unsafe to belittle servers of your food at a restaurant, Dan?”

  “Uh oh.” Dan shrugged. “I need to walk more anyway. It’s Holly’s Lighthouse Café from now on for the ‘Geezer’.”

  “Fine… you can keep coming to the Monte, Daniel,” Rachel stated. “Without retribution.”

  “Can I bring my own coffee?”

  Dan’s final thrust hit home, and Rachel enjoyed the barb along with the rest of the crew. Jean watched the group with excitement. She knew every time her stepdad went out with the three companions with him, bad people died. Jean harbored thoughts of being just like him, and she weighed the input everyday as to the shortest route to get there. She knew bypassing her Mom would be a written in stone fact. Since learning how to throw daggers, Jean practiced daily with Nick at
her side. Nick had helped her find a knife to learn how to throw with deadly accuracy. It was perfectly balanced with a seven inch blade, Nick bought for her at a gun show after handling the knife with the expertise of a without peer assassin’s touch.

  “Can I stay while you guys talk,” Jean asked.

  “I’d rather you didn’t, Dagger, but I’ll leave the decision to your Mom. I stopped pretending or ignoring the interest you have in what I do. You’ve seen so much I can’t hide what I am or what I do without endangering all of us, so look to your Mom. She calls the shots as to your involvement as a kid. She already knows you remind me too much of me when I was a kid. I can only hope to turn you from the dark side.”

  Jean’s face turned feral, all aspects of a pre-teen kid disappearing. “You saved me when I was duct taped in a van, heading for death, Dad! Mom can’t erase that. I’m happy you haven’t tried to erase it. No one’s taking me anywhere after what you’ve taught me. You never have to pretend for me… ever!”

  “Oh shit!” Rachel hugged Jean to her without any pretense. “You are something else, baby. I’m to blame for everything because of what I tried to ignorantly do with your real Dad. I’m an idiot after all we’ve gone through to make the assumption you’re an ignorant kid needing something beyond my grasp to provide. I’m proud of you. The way you handle those knives is scary good.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. Everyone here knows we’re the ‘Addam’s Family’. Don’t worry about it so much. Tina even refers to Dad as ‘Gomez’. When my baby brother, Quinn arrives, I’ll take him under my wing. He’ll be a premier killer in no time.”

  “Oh…my…God,” Rachel mumbled, her face tilted to observe the universe with a ceiling barring the look of humble thoughts, praying for an absolution not forthcoming.

  “Calm down, love,” Nick soothed. “It’s not a bad thing that Dagger can protect herself. She can throw the target type knives as well as anyone I’ve ever seen, including the people who have won fame with them. Yes, I have taught her how to throw the knife she has to carry for protection, and she does so with deadly accuracy. Such is life in our world. If you have to blame anyone, blame me… as always.”

  Rachel gripped her mate in a gasping acknowledgement of facts in reality. “Jean and I are only alive because of you! I’m sorry each new instance of my preteen daughter’s deadliness upsets my Mommy hormones.”

  Rachel released Nick, and embraced her daughter. “And you, Daughter of Darkness, I see what wells within you. I’m proud of you. You don’t run, hide, or fall on your face crying. You know right from wrong, and you’re the strongest willed kid I could ever know. You’re a Nick clone for sure, carrying someone else’s DNA. I know if there’s a way to stay alive in a bad situation, you’ll find it. Thank God that’s true.”

  Jean pushed Rachel aside. “So… can I go on Dad’s next mission?”

  Rachel went for the throat immediately with both hands to much amusement. She shook Jean’s head as if really throttling her. “You… are… so… grounded.”

  “You can’t ground me. I haven’t done anything,” Jean replied in a vibrating gargle.

  “Actually, everyone will be going on this next mission.” Nick hugged both females in his life. “I’m calling Cassie, and see about a book signing gig in Olympia, Washington. If you ladies can start talking about specifics while I contact my agent, I’d be grateful. It would be nice if you three maybe scrambled together some food in the kitchen, it would be much appreciated.”

  “C’mon, Rachel,” Tina said, heading for the door, after kissing Gus. “Let’s do Gomez’s bidding while picking out a movie. I’ve had enough of the fog scene anyway. These three will be boring the hell out of us with ‘Addams Family’ business anyway if we stay here.”

  Chapter Two

  Mission: Isis

  Rachel followed with only a brief headlock on Jean to get her headed in the right direction. Deke stayed near his bowl, savoring the beer Nick had poured for him. Nick served his companions with what they wished from the new bar and refrigerator on the balcony now. He held up his own shot glass to be toasted, which the others met with theirs.

  “I’ll do this in sequence, the first being Sergeant Dickerson. The explanation of how he should proceed will keep him busy until our morning meeting. I’ll call Paul afterwards to apprise him of our local issues, along with plotting to take a look at his Isis training center near Olympia. Lastly, I’ll call my agent. She should be ecstatic about my moving forth so soon on another book signing. If any of you have any objections, spit them out, including you ‘Geezer’. I have a great role to play for you as bait again.”

  “Let me guess, a misdirected old putz, wandering around where he ain’t supposed to be, near the suspected Isis compound. How am I doin’?”

  “Gee, you’re really good at this, Dan,” Nick said. “I better get busy before it gets any later. I’ll probably catch hell from Cassie, so I’ll touch base with her tomorrow.”

  Nearly forty-five minutes later, Nick finished his calls. Jean delivered a tray of appetizers during his call to Nick’s CIA boss, before waving goodnight quietly. “Paul was all excited, thinking my suppositions sounded real good. He even told me not to bother coming over until he checked a few things. When the fog clears in the morning, I wonder what our friends in Blue will think.”

  “I believe Neil thinks you’re a little nuts anyway,” Gus said. “I wish there were a way to let him in on what we do, but it’s not like Pacific Grove is little Chicago. Those mugger assholes were the first worrisome case they’ve had in quite a while. Even Neil mentioned that. An ongoing story of tourists getting mugged in a place where tourism is king makes for a long day at the police department.”

  “What did Paul say about the pictures? Any hits yet?”

  “Yep. He confirmed they were from a gang in San Jose with criminal records dating back to practically the moment they started walking, John. Naturally, he’s uneasy about us risking our necks locally, but he knows the deal. If we can help our guys in Blue with their hands tied behind their backs, we will. This is home. It’s not like we’re working in some gray area. We caught the bastards red handed. Making sure we didn’t have to pay for their incarceration is a bonus. Our boss loved my book signing cover plan in Olympia to check out the Isis compound.”

  “I bet you didn’t tell him you planned to engage El Muerto, Payaso, and El Kabong to sort out the Isis problem,” Dan said.

  “I didn’t have to. Paul immediately told me if I decided to do anything about the compound I was to exclude our heroic trio from making any movies. Heh… heh.”

  “He’s right, Muerto,” Gus said. “Olympia isn’t far enough away from the Isis compound to make cartoon movies when you’re less than an hour away doing book signings.”

  “Yeah, well too bad. If I’m less notable, the media would call it a ‘Crusader’ massacre of a simple Islamic village, or some such crap. We get the goods on these Isis freaks, and we can make a statement about the dangers in creating ‘No-Go for non-Muslim zones’ here in America. At the rate they’re allowing these zones in Europe for importing weapons, and training for jihad, they’ll have it all under Sharia Law in a few years.”

  “Nick is right,” John said. “This must be a bloody statement. The movies we’ve done have made a difference. We are under a Death Fatwa already, because of our YouTube videos. We have hurt them. With a brutal reminder we are not done at this Isis compound, the statement will be made all over in Islamic circles. I hope you have a plan for me, Muerto. I can infiltrate these goons easily.”

  “I didn’t know if you would want to risk it so soon,” Nick replied, leaning forward. “It could mean locating vital evidence for our statement. It would give Paul a blueprint for what Isis has planned in the media run underground here, where they ignore the Islamist threat no matter what they do. I want you to sleep on it. I’ll have to work out details starting tomorrow morning. We can all meet down at Carol’s beach. I’ll bring the coffee, but anyone wanting su
gar packets or creamer, bring your own. I’m tired of you guys whinin’ about extras.”

  “You always seem to remember the whiskey,” Dan mentioned.

  “That’s for special occasions. Tomorrow morning ain’t one of them. Even with my working out every day, as always, Rachel has been making snide remarks about my small daily celebrations – ‘what if my water breaks’, ‘what if Jean breaks something at school’, ‘what if stars fall out of the sky’, ‘what if I awaken while you’re downing shots at the beach with indigestion’, ‘what if I stub my toe’.”

  By Nick’s ending lines, as he paused between each one, his friends were causing so much amused racket, Rachel made an appearance. Silence followed abruptly. She read the room correctly. “So… the meeting’s over, and I’m being held up for ridicule, huh?”

  “I was just explaining why I’m cutting back on my Irish coffees during our morning meetings. They thought my reasoning was very funny, Dear.”

  “I’ll bet they did.”

  “Don’t take that attitude, Mrs.” Gus shunned her, hand to the side of his face while turning away. “I tricked a few of your gems out of Tina while we male targets of opportunity were out of range. You don’t even want to start comparing our small dalliances with the everyday crap you pull. Perhaps now would be the time to air out some of your lunch dates with Tina.”

  “That traitor! How… crap!” Rachel shut up immediately as she recognized she had been lured into a trap, which was immediately enjoyed by Gus’s viewers. They knew instantly Tina had never said a word, and it was all a supposition by Gus, weighing facts in evidence. “That’s just mean, Gus.”

  Gus stood to wrap an arm around the penitent Rachel. “When you make one sided stabs at my brother, Nick, who has saved my black ass more times than I can count, I am duty bound to enter into a defensive mode, where I have figured out many things you and Tina have done since banding together as the ‘Sisterhood of the Nagging Pants’.”

  Rachel tried an outrage ploy, and abandoned it while eyeing the amused faces around her. She giggled. “Okay… okay, maybe I’ve played the do as I say not as I’ve done card a few times.”