Sherazi turned away. “He is bluffing. Arrest us, and turn us over to the proper authorities. We have nothing to say to you.”
Nick pulled his stun gun from his bag, firing off an arc. “This is only to remind you I am not the regular federal authority.”
Nick forced Sherazi screaming to the floor surface before backing out of reach, and zapping his groin area in a continual arc for ten seconds. Sherazi passed out. His comrade Zarin did not. “Did you get the message, sweetie, or do you need a personal demo?”
Zarin stared into the eyes appraising him with amusement from the mask holes with abject fear. He saw no feeling or hint of compassion so ingrained by American movies portraying the idealistic side of America. This man would do anything within imagination to him without hesitation. “I will tell you everything! Do not torture me!”
Nick unloaded his stun gun with a smile by zapping his fingers in between the electrodes, jolting upright for a split second. “Man… I can’t get enough of the charge. Well now, Ebi, that all depends on what you have to say. If I’m not impressed, the game will be afoot as a Sherlock Holmes fan might say. That’s when things get really unpleasant for you, pal. Start talking, buddy, or I start exploring your nether regions with Mr. Sparky. I promise you this. I will not add extra pain if you give me a name for who killed the young woman infiltrating your group. I am excellent at determining a lie. Don’t lie to me, bucko, or we’ll start partying right now.”
Zarin looked down. “I killed her. Mr. Sherazi found out she was a plant, trying to infiltrate our cell. Since I was the one who fell for her lies, her death was left to me.”
“That leaves only the gory details about this grievous wrong you two hoped to perpetrate here in Boston. Keep talking Ebi. If I don’t think you’re being truthful, or complete in the telling of this horrible story, I will have to give you an adjustment. We don’t want that, do we?”
Zarin shook his head with vehemence. “We will not live through this, will we?”
“I’m afraid not. I promised the murdered girl’s uncle you would pay for what you did with your life. How much pain goes with it, I’ll leave to you.”
“Nick… I’m networked in with you,” Paul Gilbrech said. “Gus told me it was an Isis cell.”
Nick held up a hand to stop Zarin. “I’m working with Zarin now. If you have intel I don’t, ask your questions. I’ll relay them. We have the warehouse to ourselves, so time is not a factor. Payaso is watching the front door, so there won’t be any surprises.”
“Can I have these two after you finish?”
“Nope. You involved your Marine buddy Stallings. I gave him my word, and El Muerto does not break his word.”
Gilbrech muttered something. “Okay, Muerto, it’s your show. Let’s get started.”
Over the next four hours, Nick covered every possible thread in the Isis network leading into America. He then took Zarin through the Isis network’s connections with Hamas in America. Zarin hung his head, while avoiding either looking at his cohort, Sherazi or Nick. Nick had duct taped the now conscious Sherazi’s mouth, warning him not to make a sound during the questioning. The insights surprised his interrogators. The Isis cell had filtered in through the Les Jardins-de-Napierville crossing between New York and Canada. A terrorist halfway house for the network existed in Champlain.
“I have told you everything I know,” Zarin said finally when Nick asked another question about contacts in Canada. “I was given papers overseas to get me from France into Canada. We were moved from there to the border immediately without stopping. I am sorry about the woman. I cared for her.”
“Who ordered her death?”
Zarin hesitated, but inclined his head toward the suddenly very animated Sherazi. “He ordered her death at my hand. Nearing my time I have no illusions. I have wasted my life.”
Nick unfastened his ankles, and helped him to his feet. “Do you have any booze in this dump? My experience with you true believers is you swear to have no alcohol pass your lips, and then do the opposite. I’ll help you have a few if you’d like.”
“I would like a few very much. As you surmised, we have booze as you say here. May I show you?”
“Of course.” Sherazi made violent movements, rolling around on the floor. Nick kicked him in the head. He quieted immediately.
“I don’t much like your partner,” Nick admitted, allowing Zarin to guide him.
Zarin glanced back at Sherazi. “I do not much like him either. I offer no excuses. I have been as a lamb led to the slaughter from the very beginning of my life. It has been a life filled only with death.”
Nick began getting his quirky idea mode going. In spite of everything he knew, and what Zarin had confessed during the interrogation, he couldn’t help liking the young man, especially his fatalistic acceptance of his death sentence. Paul had heard everything said. Nick continued following Zarin to a set of cupboards in a makeshift kitchen. Zarin pointed with his foot towards a closed cupboard door. Nick checked, and found an entire selection of booze.
“What can I get you?”
“The Jack Daniels would be very good,” Zarin said, backing away from the cupboard to give Nick room. “It would taste very good right now. Thank you for your kindness.”
Nick took out the bottle of Jack Daniels, and found a set of glasses in the upper set of cupboards a few seconds later. He poured a triple shot for Zarin into a glass. He gave Zarin a gulp, watching the distaste at first, followed by grim satisfaction.
“Yes. That is very good.” Zarin accepted another healthy gulp of Jack Daniels. He looked into Nick’s eyes. “Could you simply shoot me in the head after I finish this drink, Sir? I have nothing else to tell you. If I did, I would say so.”
Nick helped him gulp down the rest in the glass. “Let’s talk about that. How would you like to find God in something else than death?”
Zarin’s eyes widened, but he looked down immediately. “Please do not play with me as a cat does a mouse. I know what I have done is beyond redemption in your eyes. If I could but get a quick death, I will be done with this living death sentence.”
“I’m not playing a game. I could use someone like you. It will mean an abstract change in everything you’ve ever been taught. More importantly for you, it would mean survival.”
Zarin shrugged with inebriated smile. “I am happy if I can live. If you can let me live, I am your man.”
“It will probably mean at times fighting against the people you are now working for. Trust will be earned at a slow pace, and you will be averse to many of the things I do.”
“What? Did I hear right? You’re recruiting? Are you out of your El Muerto mind?” Gus’s rapid fire questions at significantly louder volume had Nick cringing.
Nick held up a finger to Zarin. “Would you please tone your discourse down, Payaso? Calm the hell down. We need a guy with us not too thrilled with being brought up in the death cult.”
“For God’s sake, Nick, what if he’s playing you, dimwit? Sorry… sorry,” Gus said. “That’s uncalled for. I know you have excellent instincts, but being wrong in a circumstance like this would be horrific. What do you have planned, taking him home like a lost puppy?”
“What he said,” Paul added with amusement in his voice.
“We’ll work this slowly, monitoring my new recruit,” Nick said. “I don’t think he’s playing us. A new life where all you’ve known is death can be an incredible life changing experience, right Ebi?”
Zarin shook his head in the affirmative with vigor, all for the cam’s view Gus and Paul had on their screen. “I swear a blood oath! I am your man from now until death. If I could cleanse my soul of innocent deaths I am responsible for perhaps… I might find peace.”
Nick removed the plastic tie binding Zarin’s wrists at his back with Gus muttering comical forecasts of doom in his ear, accompanied by muffled laughter from Paul Gilbrech.
“You’re going to feed him and clean up after your new pet, Muerto. I’m not taki
ng care of him for you. Deke won’t like him. Mark my words – he’ll bite the hand that feeds him. You can’t teach old dogs new tricks. Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas, Muerto.”
“Please stop before I come out there and shoot you in the head. Get your clown mask, and black hoodie, Payaso. The ending to this grim tale is at hand. My new recruit is going to film us as I take care of the one who ordered Cinny’s death.”
By the time Gus arrived down in the terrorist’s chamber, Nick and Zarin had lined the dead Isis cell members in a bloody grouping by the wall. Sherazi knelt in front of them, his ankles and wrists plastic tied at his back with duct tape over his mouth. Nick was in the process of showing Zarin how to record the movie with his iPad.
“This is my partner, Gus. He’ll be a little standoffish for a time, Ebi,” Nick said. “We’ll need to give you a new identity, Eb. Gus will help with that. What name would you like?”
“How about Johnny Five,” Gus volunteered.
Zarin, who had been averting his eyes, smiled at Gus. “That is from the movie ‘Short Circuit’. I liked it very much.”
“How about John Groves,” Nick suggested, having enjoyed Gus’s movie quip.
“It would be easy for me to remember.”
“Good. It’s set then. Okay, John, I need you to tell me if Sherazi knows more than you about this cell or what you’ve already explained to me.”
The newly named John Groves considered Nick’s question carefully before answering. “He knows who runs the operation near the Canadian border. If you will allow me, I can go there and infiltrate their operation. I will arrive with news of this cell’s destruction after your video clip is released. That man knows me. If I am ever to help you in public, he must be killed. Sherazi may have the man’s name on the laptop he brought in the briefcase near his desk in the corner.”
John gestured at the desk. “It is password protected. Anyone trying to access the information will initiate a virus which will destroy everything on the hard drive.”
“I like your thinking, John,” Nick replied. “You could make it much easier to erase this Isis thread from Canada. I see doubt in Gus’s face.”
“I’m willing to give new John the benefit of the doubt, but sending him North to take down his own former comrades makes me doubt your sanity.”
“I agree,” Paul added, still networked in with his out of control superhero. “I have people working right now to give your new recruit credentials. I’m liking what I see and hear, but infiltration North feels like one step beyond with a new turn.”
“We’ll do the video statement I have in mind,” Nick replied. “Tomorrow, Gus and I have a book signing to do. That will give the media a chance to go completely insane labeling El Muerto a monster, while the rest of the country scramble to run him for President. It’s going to be fun, Boss. Relax and enjoy.”
“You really are as psycho as I thought I was before I met you. I’m an altar boy compared to you. Count me in. Stash new John somewhere tomorrow, and I’ll special delivery his credentials by messenger during your book signing. Let’s get these assholes.”
“On it, Boss.” Nick put an arm around new John. “You’re going to be uncomfortable with what I do. Don’t interfere, and don’t waver. We have a step on these people, and I like your idea in the North. Gus and I will go with you for backup. We’ll be in position to end a significant threat. We’re making a statement today. It will give you some cover for fleeing North.”
The former Ebi Zanin turned to look Nick in the eyes straight on. “I am your man. If I may be permitted to have a life here, anything you need done, I will do. There is something else you should know: James Sherazi’s name was Mohammed Abin. He does not know I found out his true name. He had my parents and sister killed. I was taken and raised in a Madrasa within the Palestinian State. Always, I have dreamed of this day. I thought my dream died when you captured us. I prayed to Allah that I could see this jackal die before me.”
Nick watched Sherazi’s face, seeing utter horror lance across his features. It was clear Sherazi had not a clue of Zanin’s identity. Zanin knelt in front of Sherazi, clutching the man’s hair with his left hand, and jaw in his right. “You will die now. I will record your death for all to see, coward. I will pay for my many sins in the future, but I will take comfort in watching you die.”
John glanced at Nick. “May I have your stun gun, Sir? I will make this mongrel talk. He will tell us the name he knows, and the password to open his laptop.”
Nick exchanged glances with Gus, but put the stun gun in John’s hand with Sherazi whimpering behind the duct tape in spite of Gus’s energetic head shake in the negative. John ripped off the duct tape sealing Sherazi’s mouth, enduring a cacophony of denials, accusations, and pleadings. John shook Sherazi’s head almost with joy on his face.
“Please do not speak. Be a brave soldier of Allah,” John urged in Arabic, pushing Sherazi onto his side while positioning the stun gun again to his groin area.”
“You…you will torture me anyway,” Sherazi cried out.
“I will not. I have vengeance within my grasp, and a new life ahead, Allah willing. Give us the name and the password. I will then allow my new friends to end your life without further action on my part. Refuse, and I will use this to make you scream until you cry out the name and password. Do so now. You have three seconds: one… two…”
“Wait! It is Ahmed Abaza. The password is 9111456789.”
John gripped Sherazi’s hair tighter, obviously disappointed Sherazi volunteered the information. Nick put a hand on his wrist.
“We always honor our word, John. Let us have a moment to find out if he’s been truthful about the password. I’m sure my boss is working the Abaza name right now.”
John released him. “I saw you murder my parents and sister. I am shamed I was so weak I allowed you to order the girl’s death. I should have killed you then immediately. It will be a sin I am forever in debt for.”
“The name checks, Nick!” Gilbrech’s voice echoed the excitement streaking through him. “He is number three on our Isis list of wanted players. Turn him over to us now. I’ll send a team to collect him. Hold Abazi there. I’ll-”
Nick broke connection with Gilbrech. “How’s it look, Gus?”
“I’m in, and the password worked.”
“Outstanding. Let’s get our movie made. The hierarchy thinks I’ll let this scumbag survive because he’s near the top of our Isis list. That is unacceptable to me. Put your clown face on, Payaso. It’s show-time.”
John hurried into position for filming the execution, while Gus donned mask and black hoodie. Nick put on his full face El Muerto black mask. He had a voice altering device in place to alter his sound pattern. He held up his hand, making sure Gus was in place, before giving the sign to begin filming. When given the signal from John, Nick saluted in at attention form.
With voice adapter in place Nick proceeded. “You see before you an Isis cell, bent on the destruction of America. I am El Muerto. The man on the other side of this kneeling Isis terrorist is my partner, Payaso. I am an American citizen as is Payaso. My identity for all to see here on my mission is El Muerto. Payaso and I protect America everywhere within our reach. We will deal with serial killers, terrorists, or anyone who thinks they are above the law. We’ll find you. Today we have Isis terrorists. I saved one for the message I have for Isis terrorist cells in America. Our leaders may be stupid enough to let you in. I will not be stupid enough to allow you to live. I will use this terrorist enclave as an example. As you can see, all but Ahmed Abaza are dead. When El Muerto and Payaso find terrorist scum, we kill them. We have an added pleasure in relieving this moron of his life. He personally ordered the execution of a young woman police officer. Here is his payoff.
Sherazi dropped face forward onto the surface in front of him, wailing about his rights, his persecution, and his torture. Nick let the monologue go on to the end. He then grabbed Abin’s hair, hauling him to a kneeling positi
on with Abin’s head tilted upward.
“Hey…” Nick said, putting his smiling face next to Abin’s for the camera. “This is what happens when underground America finds you, Isis. Watch closely. Not all of us capitalistic swine, infidels are adverse to giving you bastards a wakeup call. Consider this a warning. El Muerto is on your trail no matter who you are, or what you do. Enjoy.
Nick jerked Sherazi’s head back, with Sherazi still begging for his life. With a quick swipe Nick cut his throat. Arterial blood projected outward, in the midst of Abin’s final plea. Nick held him immovable by the hair, retaining a full frontal death sequence playing out across his features. Gus stood silently on the other side with evil clown mask and hoodie on. Both men wore gloves. Abin/Sherazi died within minutes, his body writhing violently in Nick’s grasp. The final stillness swept over Sherazi, leaving only the feeble twitches into darkness left. Nick allowed the corpse to fall across his dead compatriots.
Nick gestured at the bodies with a flourish. “And there ends an Isis cell in America. This demonstration is brought to you on behalf of the American people who believe in Old Testament justice – an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.”
Nick nodded at John, who stopped recording. “I think I poked the hornet’s nest enough. I’ll bounce the signal all over the world, and send our tape out to all the news outlets. We’ll also hit the news blogs on the Internet. After it simmers today on the grill, we’ll get John on his way North to hook up with our Isis players there. Gus and I will attend my book signing, and then follow you up there to set things right. You’ll have only enough time to collect some of your personal items from where you were staying, John. Then I want you halfway to Plattsburg, okay?”
“Yes. I will do it immediately. I can rest then.”
Nick retrieved a burner phone from his equipment bag along with a thousand dollars in an envelope. “Pay cash from now on if you haven’t been.” Nick gave him a card with his phone number. “Only call this number after you get settled on your way to Plattsburg. Will you be able to handle all we’re about to do?”
Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) Page 8