Bloody Shadows

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I have your favorite Giants baseball cap with gold lettering in my hands right now. One more third person El Muerto outburst, and I puke in it. Then I’ll seal it in a plastic bag.”

  Silence.

  “Heh… heh.”

  “I’m telling Kabong about this,” Nick muttered.

  “Heh… heh.”

  Nick picked his way through the dense woods as a lifetime stalking prey dictated. The wetness of spring in the Pacific Northwest muffled his footsteps while he listened to Gus insulting him in humorous ways at three minute intervals. Nick acknowledged each voice check with a whispered ‘Yo mamma’. Although telling Gus the men he hunted would never set traps to blow up unsuspecting hikers, Nick paid close attention to his every step once he passed within a three hundred yard range of the compound. His cautionary approach added an hour to his reaching the compound entrance, but greatly reduced the noise level to nothing more than a slight rustling breeze. Nick found a razor wire perimeter trap at ankle height when he reached the fifty yard mark, and another at twenty-five yards. A familiar smell then drifted to his nose: tobacco smoke.

  “Smoker,” Nick whispered.

  “I remember the lesson,” Gus replied, remembering the men Nick had stalked in the past with Gus along, and how far the smell of tobacco smoke could reach. “You sure made those guys pay for their up until then innocent habit, proving that smoking is indeed hazardous to your health.”

  Nick went to a crawl, picking each hand and foot advancement with care and patience. As he neared the sentry’s position, Nick watched a billowing cloud of tobacco smoke waft upwards into the air. Flipping his night vision goggles upward Nick allowed his natural night vision to work. He couldn’t take the chance the sentry might be in constant communication with someone inside. Nick waited until the red glow of his cigarette brightened as the sentry inhaled, and fired two silenced hollow points into the face behind the glow. The sentry dropped with very little sound.

  The approach remained a careful time consuming task as Nick covered the remaining distance to the dead sentry. He breathed a sigh of relief, finding no evidence of anything relating to a communication device. The sentry had nothing of an electronic nature on him. Nick confiscated the Uzi and extra clip from the guard. Removing his small pack, Nick extracted his remote viewing video cam at the end of an extendable cable. He propped the entrance hatch quietly to allow him to snake the video cam into and down the stairs. No one was in sight, which was not unexpected at nearly 3 am. With pack in place once again, Nick entered the compound entrance with noiseless steps. In the entry tunnel, a constant underlying noise of generators provided cover for his steps. A red glow from corridor lights made maneuvering an easy task for Nick.

  “I’m by myself in the entrance tunnel,” Nick whispered. “Guide me to John.”

  Nick hugged the corridor wall, his silenced MP5 at the ready. He moved forward slowly, to give Gus time to react to his movements.

  “Look for somewhere to go right.”

  Fifty feet ahead Nick came to intersecting tunnels going in both directions with still no one in sight. He went right. After moving ten feet, Gus affirmed the right direction.

  “You’re getting close,” Gus said. “There should be something on your left soon.”

  * * *

  Hanging on a chain, naked except for his undershorts, John tried to balance on alternating feet, cringing each time as his feet were cramping. They had received word from the East with conflicting stories, one claiming Ebi Zarin died during an operation in Boston. The other source claimed Zarin had been killed near the Canadian border. John denied the stories, joking he was standing with his contact, Yuri Aman. Therefore he could not be dead. Aman showed his lack of humor by chaining John in the position he was now in.

  Only his toes touched on the cold bare floor. He grinned through the pain, remembering he had just seen a TV show with the main character hung in such a way. John had been left alone since shortly after midnight. The man who originally brought him to the compound returned with a second man. His original recruiter stood directly in front of him, staring at John with his hands clasped behind his back. The man who came in with him arranged surgical implements on a side table.

  “You don’t need to torture me, Yuri,” John told the man. “What is it you wish to know?”

  John’s statement surprised Aman. His eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed in a tight line. “You think this is funny. That is good. When my friend Hadi shares his passion with you, I am most certain you will tell us everything you know. Who are you in reality?”

  “I am Ebi Zarin. I did not lie to you about my name.”

  “Ebi Zarin died. That, we do know.”

  “I know that is the story. I faked my death with help from the man who told me to tell you everything if I was caught.”

  “Who is this man?”

  “His name is El Muerto. He killed my entire cell, and another with my help near the Canadian border. We made movies of it. Have you seen them on YouTube? They are very popular, almost with as many hits as a cat video. Muerto wants you to know everything I know, because he said he would kill you and all of your men here soon anyway.”

  Yuri smiled then. “You think much of this Muerto. I hope you like him as much when we cut pieces from you slowly.”

  “Why would you do such a thing,” John asked, trying to buy as much time as possible. “Take me down, and give me a notepad. I will write everything out for you. All that I have experienced since I faked my death will be in writing.”

  Hadi walked over with a scalpel. “This Ebi is very funny. Let me cut his dick off, Yuri. He will be serious then.”

  Yuri waved him off with disgust. “Too much blood. Get the surgical sheers. You may cut off the first joint of every finger one at a time. We will be sure of the truth soon about this Muerto.”

  “I am trying to tell you about him,” John insisted, reciting the mantra Nick had suggested to try first if they did not believe him. “He is the ‘Dead One’. His hallowed sidekick, the deadly ‘Payaso’ named him because of his horrific manner of dealing torture and death. What do you wish to know? I will tell all.”

  “Cut off his finger joints,” Yuri instructed. “I am sick of hearing about this fantasy character.”

  Yuri heard a thud and gurgle, as the scalpel hit the floor with a clatter. He turned to see Hadi’s hands grasping the knife handle protruding from his throat with panicked eyes wide as saucers. “What has-”

  “It is El Muerto,” John explained.

  * * *

  “You should be at a room,” Gus said. “It looks as if you are standing very near John.”

  “There is a door ajar on the left,” Nick whispered. “Hang on.”

  Nick heard voices, one of them John’s. He grinned, hearing John speak of El Muerto. He slipped into the room behind where he could see John hanging by a chain. The grin went away to be replaced by his Terminator mask of concentration. In the split second Hadi looked questioningly toward the figure near the room door, Nick’s stiletto flew unerringly to its target. Nick strode to the man staggering with blood pumping around his hands. Nick’s left hand held the MP5 trained on Yuri, who stared in disbelief at Nick, raising his hands in surrendering form. John chuckled, knowing Yuri’s surrender meant little to El Muerto. The man with the stiletto in his throat collapsed, his body gradually relaxing into a final death spasm as life blood pooled around him.

  “El Kabong. I’m very happy to see you, my very good friend. Payaso. Kabong is alive and well, but I don’t much care for his new position though. Did this guy put you up there?”

  “Yes, Muerto.”

  “Payaso says hi. You there. Get my friend down.”

  Aman rushed over to John, bear hugging him around the waist, and lifting him so he could free himself of the hook holding the chain. He then fished in his pocket for the key to John’s manacles. Once John was free, he flexed the blood painfully into his hands once again while gingerly working his feet and to
es.

  “Put the manacles on your buddy, and put him on the hook if you can, Kabong.”

  John smiled at the horrified Yuri. He swiped his captor across the face with the manacles, driving Aman to his back clutching his face. “Hold your hands out, Yuri, or I’ll smash you in the head again. If you make noise, I will smash you for that also.”

  Yuri held his shaking hands away from his bloody face. John put the manacles on his wrists, and helped him to his feet. “Put your arms up with hands held apart.”

  Yuri did as ordered. John lifted him easily to his own former position on the hook. Nick handed John a piece of duct tape, which John placed over Yuri’s mouth. “Sorry, Muerto. They received word from the East I was dead much faster than we figured.”

  “It’s a small thing, brother.” Nick poked the swinging Yuri back and forth while John dressed. “I am unhappy finding you in such a position, Kabong. It’s a good thing to have your new pal waiting on the hook while I take care of his Isis recruits. How are the living conditions, John?”

  “They have three living quarters. They feel invulnerable. If you dealt with the man at the entrance I marked he was the only one watching outside. They do not have anyone below on watch. Very sloppy terrorists. In their defense, they do not know the crazy Muerto.”

  “Here, Kabong, you can listen to Payaso laugh at your disrespect of the fantastic El Muerto.” Nick handed John an earwig to network with Gus.

  “Payaso! I am here.”

  “If you can, hurry Muerto along. He wants to do cartoon movies too.”

  “Yes! It will be the return of El Kabong. It will have a million more hits than the closest cat video. Kabong may even pass the laughing baby ones.”

  “C’mon, John. We better get moving or Payaso will start whining steadily until we want to rip our own ears off.” Nick plucked his stiletto out of Hadi’s throat with a towel from the utensil table Hadi had been preparing for John’s torture.

  Nick gave John the MP10 he brought with extra clips along with the gas mask. “Show me the quarters, and then we’ll decide how we want to do this. We’ll recon quietly, take a quick look, and come back here. Is the sealed lab and weapons stockpile you spoke of in a corridor away from the living quarters?”

  “Understood. Yes, it is on the far end of the complex in the opposite direction of the way you proceeded to find me from the entrance I marked.”

  John led the way. All quarters were along the center corridor with bathroom facilities opposite of the quarters. John checked the bathroom while Nick peeked into each open doored bunk room, making an instant decision. He checked with John, who indicated no one was using the bathroom.

  “The hell with it, John,” Nick whispered. “Put on your gas mask, and retreat toward where we left Yuri. I’m going to blow this place now.

  John nodded in agreement. “I like it. You are a very bad man, Muerto. Is that not so, Payaso?”

  “Don’t get him started, Kabong, or it will be ten in the morning by the time he stops talking about himself.”

  Nick pushed John on his way. “Go on. Get into position to fire from about a hundred feet down the corridor. Best cover your ears.”

  Nick placed two grenades by each doorway. He then went to the first doorway, pulled the pins and rolled the two grenades inside. Nick in precious seconds repeated the action two more times as the grenades exploded in the first room, shaking the entire corridor. By the time Nick ran towards John the third set blasted the weakened section apart, causing a massive cave in at the living quarters section. Nick tossed his last two grenades down the corridor into the rubble. The entire corridor gave way after the explosions, forcing the two men around the corner.

  “Put on your mask, John. Do you know this place well enough for us to do a methodical search of the remaining compound? I will get Paul to send a special team in for handling the lab, but it will take time for him to do it through the FBI and HS. Lastly, I want to open their vehicle entrance, so Payaso can bring the GMC down inside. No prisoners. We’ll take care of the guy on the hook for the movie ending. How did we do on video footage, Payaso?”

  “Horrifyingly clear HD,” Gus replied. “I’m timing you guys. Quit gabbing and get moving. I’ll start down the access road now, so I’ll be in position when the vehicle entrance is open.”

  “On our way, Payaso. Take your time, John, and let’s be thorough. You lead. Blast anything or anyone in your path. I’m on your six.”

  With John leading, the two men spent the next forty minutes covering every square inch not impacted by the grenades. The weapons stockpile was locked. Nick fired on the locking mechanism until the door swung inward.

  “Wait until you see what we’re allowing to be stockpiled under our noses, Payaso.” Nick and John walked amongst the weaponry in amazement. “This, my brothers, is insane. Hey… here’s a safe. I love surprises like this. Let’s recon the lab, and then go get the combination to the safe from our hooked helper.”

  “What if he doesn’t know the combination?”

  “Gee… I think it will really suck if he doesn’t,” Nick replied. “I’ll have to make certain he’s not lying, and that process will definitely hurt more than his feelings.”

  When they reached the lab, the door was ajar. “Uh oh,” Nick whispered. “I think we left a live one at our backs. Shout at the door who you are, John. Then tell him ‘we’re under attack’, and get him to come out.”

  John grinned and moved to the side of the open doorway. He shouted out in Arabic, “I am Ebi Zarin! We are under attack! Come! I must get you to safety!”

  A clean shaven man wearing a white lab coat, and appearing to be in his middle thirties peeked out the door. John grabbed him by the hair when he saw the man clutched a briefcase, and a metal case in his arms. “Get on your knees!”

  The man did as ordered. Nick took away the briefcase and metal carrier case from him. “This doesn’t look good. Who are you?”

  “I…I am Malik Handal.”

  “Have you seen this guy before, Kabong?”

  “No. What is your duty here? We can see you operate in the lab.”

  “Research only,” Handal said.

  “Get up,” Nick ordered. “Search him, and we’ll let Malik show us around the lab. What’s in the cases, Malik?”

  John frisked Handal thoroughly after helping him to his feet. Handal remained silent.

  “Come now, Malik,” Nick spoke in Arabic. “This is not going to end well for you no matter what. If you cooperate, we won’t have to persuade you.”

  “You cannot make me talk! I have rights!”

  John grabbed Handal’s ear, yanking him to his tip toes. “Listen closely. This man will make you beg to tell us everything you know. We will find out anyway. Come. We will take you into the lab, and make this easy for you. I do all the light work for El Muerto. When you are uncooperative, I will break one of your fingers. When I run out of fingers, I will move up your arms. Then El Muerto will take over.”

  Handal stared at Nick in horror. “I recognize the names now! You are El Muerto and El Kabong. I saw the videos of what you did to that kidnapper. It was unholy to do such a thing!”

  “Yes,” Nick agreed. “When I finish with your unholy evisceration, I will stuff pig guts inside of you, before sewing your belly shut again. We will then bury you for eternity, unclean and cursed by Allah.”

  “No!” Handal turned as much as his captured ear permitted toward John. “You would allow such a thing? You are not an infidel!”

  John smiled. “I will help him stuff you.”

  Handal’s body sagged, and John released his ear. “The briefcase contains my notebook computer and flash drives. The metal case contains the biological strains I have been working on.”

  “Good,” Nick said. “Show us around your lab, and we will take you to where we are holding Yuri. Do you know the combination to the safe in the weapons storeroom?”

  Handal shook his head no while leading Nick and John inside the lab. “I ha
ve never went inside the weapons room. Yuri is the only one who knows the combination to the safe there. He has brought me money when I needed to travel after going in there.”

  Thirty minutes later, Nick took Handal into the room where Yuri still hung from the hook they placed him on. John went to the vehicle entrance to allow Gus to enter with the GMC. Unlike John’s silent endurance, Aman sobbed, screaming out weakly when he balanced from foot to foot. When he saw Nick enter with the now restrained Handal, he began to beg.

  “Please… I will tell you anything you want to know! Take me off this hook! I will tell you all!”

  Nick plastic tied Malik to a chair in the room at the ankles, hands behind the chair. Then duct taped him in place at his waist, shoulders, and calves while Aman continued to plead. He then walked over in front of Yuri with a smile.

  “I’m glad you want to cooperate, Yuri. I was afraid I’d have to get tough with you. Let’s start with the combination to the safe in the weapons room.”

  “Yes! I will tell you. Take me down!”

  “Nope. That’s backwards, Yuri. First, you give me the combination, then I go open the safe. Then I come back here and take you down. The longer you keep asking in this backwards manner, the longer it will be before you are off the hook as it were. Let me show you how it feels to be moved slightly just to get you on board.”

  Nick gripped the chain holding Yuri’s wrists on the hook, and began yanking on them, causing the frantic screaming man to dance in agony. “Are you seeing this, Payaso? If only I had some white face paint. This would be a true Kabuki dance moment.”

  “I see it. I just puked in your Giants cap, but I won’t seal it in plastic yet. We’re heading towards you. I have my tablet on with your psychotic prisoner handling on screen, Muerto. Let the man tell you the combination! I swear… every cell in your body is rotten… every cell!”

  Nick could hear John’s appreciative chortling in the background. Nick stopped shaking the chain. “Fine! I’m sorry I upset your delicate nature, Payaso. I hope you brought the bag with you I told you to bring from the GMC.”