“You carrying my ass out when you did saved my life, you psycho! I might have known the damn Nick McCarty author was the same cold blooded bastard from our outfit. Damn… it’s good to see you, brother!”
The men around them relaxed. Nick was vouched for beyond bosses.
“What the hell are you into, Joe? Do the teams have a medic now on board in every team?”
“Sort of. There are live ones in this pickup, so they sent me for complications. And yes, I’ve taken a life when it was needed. You already know that’s the only way I could make a career with the Company.”
“I’m just happy to see you, Doc. I don’t give a crap about anything else. We’ve chewed so much dirt together, I wouldn’t even blink in anger if you put a bullet between my eyes.”
The man Nick labeled Doc glanced around at his companions. “That won’t be necessary, Nick. The guys around me know I’d do anything for them. What they know now as I say it is I will put a bullet in any one of their heads if they reach for a weapon. Truth be told, I know if anyone of them drew, we’d all be dead, except for you and your buddy there.”
Nick relaxed. “Thanks Doc. They sent shooters?”
Doc laughed. “Yep. They have all killed, but I doubt they react even in these circumstances like you. I’m glad it won’t come to the test. I don’t want to die for a bullshit bunch of terrorists.”
Nick frowned while all who were watching twitched around uncomfortably. “Did you just insult me, Doc? We draw down, and everyone in your group will die but you.”
“You’ve overlooked the fact of friendly fire, Nick.”
Doc’s words launched a laughing fit with the two men slapping hands, bumping fists, and generally enjoying the odd interaction beyond reality.
“Good one,” Nick said. “Would you like Gus and I to help you load our cargo?”
“Yeah, let’s get this exchange done as fast as possible. I don’t want to attract attention from the locals. You picked a good spot. I bet you’ve used it before for something nefarious.”
“Guilty,” Nick admitted, remembering the three contract killers he’d gutted in a van on the turnoff. He opened the Caravan. In minutes, they transported the dead and living to the other van.
Doc handed Nick a card with a hastily scribbled number and address. “We have to go, Nick. Give me your card. I’ll stay in touch. If you pop in close to me call and stop by.”
Nick gave him a card. “I will for sure. Anything you need an extra for, call me.”
“Count me in if you have something special: patch jobs, hideouts… or anything else.”
They shook hands once again, and then the Company team left. Nick grinned at Gus. “I thought Joe Downing died of his wounds. Now, I feel like an idiot not having checked on him. After the mission he was wounded on, I transferred into the NSA black ops section under Frank. I had no contact with the Company after transferring. I had a lot more freedom, but you know how that entanglement turned out.”
“I remember Frank’s retirement sanction very well. He made a great donation to our general fund. You never told me how the hell you tied in with his rogue outfit in the first place.” Gus got in and started the Dodge with Nick beside him.
“That mission Joe and I went on in Columbia went sour. Our crew got ambushed on a snatch and grab to rescue a guy supposedly kidnapped by rebels. It was a trap to capture us, perpetrated by the guy we were rescuing. We lost three men, but we wiped out those snakes who ambushed us. They were shooters. After that cluster fuck, Frank approached me with a private contracting job for his new outfit. I would be working alone. It was a good deal for a long time. Frank lost perspective. In his defense, he did sell out for a lot of money, which we now have.”
“That mistake did not end well for him. I think this small celebration with John is a good thing. He hasn’t met our families because of that undercover gig he immediately dived into.”
“It will be a good night,” Nick agreed.
* * *
A few minutes away from his Carmel Valley home, Nick’s phone rang. “Nick here.”
“We picked up a tail in Monterey, Nick. I’ve called Paul, asking if he had a secondary team on our six, but he said no and to call you.”
“Have your driver do a series of street turns to get you along the coastal road. Then turn toward the Point Lobos turnoff. Establish if they’re following to intercept or to tail you to your destination. I’ll be waiting for them at the turnoff. When you enter the turnoff spin left immediately, Doc. Do you understand? Acknowledge now.”
“Acknowledged,” Doc replied. “How long do you need us to stall them?”
“Twenty minutes. I need a sit-rep whether they’re tailing or intercepting. Call me in five minutes.”
“Acknowledged.”
“That didn’t sound good.”
“In more ways than one,” Nick said. “Speed it all the way to John. I’m calling him now.”
John answered on the first ring. “Nick?”
“Get my Barrett sniper rifle case out of the safe-room I showed you. Also bring out three MP5’s with ammo. We have a problem. Meet me out front with everything.”
“On it.” John disconnected.
Nick’s next call was to Gilbrech. “Know anything yet?”
“I know it wasn’t us,” Paul answered. “That means we’re being set up by the Egyptians. There must be a leak on their end. I got sloppy, Nick.”
“Ditch the whiney crap. You’ve drawn out someone else. This bunch following our guys had better not be with Homeland or FBI. I don’t have a plan for their survival.”
“I covered that the moment Downing called me. I’m sending Downing’s description of the vehicle to your phone. I have another team on the way from Sacramento by helicopter. ETA ninety minutes.”
“Acknowledged. Be talkin’ at you soon.” Nick disconnected.
John awaited them as ordered. He loaded everything himself in seconds while Nick shifted to the Dodge’s rear, and took the Barrett from him. Gus streaked away the moment John settled into the passenger seat. Nick worked the weapons in the rear with lightning fast expertise. He had the MP5’s loaded, and the Barrett ready for action in minutes.
“Drive to the rear of the turnoff, Gus. Turn to the right, park, and both of you follow me out. I’ll direct you from there. Here, John.” Nick handed two of the fully loaded MP5’s to the front. “Here’s two extra clips for each. Have you ever fired one before?”
“Yes. I am most proficient with this excellent weapon.”
“I know Gus is, so we’re set. Let’s get-”
Downing called. “Yeah, Doc?”
“They’re tailing. No move to intercept us, and we gave them a few opportunities. See you at the turnoff.”
“Have your team stay down. Do not exit your vehicle. If anything gets real hinky, execute your prisoners.”
“Acknowledged. We’ll be ready if things change.”
“Acknowledged. Only on my order. Keep this line open, Doc.” Nick said. “Fire in the hole, boys. Stay with me when we exit.”
Gus skidded the Dodge into the abrupt Point Lobos turnoff. In seconds, while keeping the turnoff entrance in sight, Gus whipped the steering wheel right, sliding the Caravan to a halt. He shut off lights and engine. After taking the MP5 offered by John, the two men in the front exited, following Nick as he went to a spot with clear vision of the entrance. In seconds, Nick was positioned at the wooded perimeter, his Barrett .50 caliber rifle at the ready.
“Gus goes to our left fifty feet, John to the right fifty feet. I will tag the driver, and the driver’s side tire. After that, it will get tricky. I’d like to find out what this is all about from the participants, but that may not be possible. The bad guys are in an E350 Ford full size black van, and we have no idea how many guys are inside. Anyone exiting the van once I get it stopped with a weapon in hand finds God. Are we clear?”
“Clear!” Both men answered, while jogging to their positions.
Downing c
alled. “Two minutes out.”
“Acknowledged. In position,” Nick said. He watched the van Downing had picked the prisoners up in spin into the turnoff before going left, leaving a plume of debris firing into the night air.
Nick could not use his night vision scope because of the coming van’s headlights. He also didn’t know if the trailing van would follow their target vehicle into the turnoff. If they did, it would mean they hoped to take the prisoners. Nick smiled, still sighting on the entrance. He knew the pursuing van was overdue turning into the Point Lobos entrance. Minutes passed as hours would normally, but it appeared the pursuers needed more than a few moments to make a decision to follow, in spite of their orders.
“Nick?” Doc’s voice came over their open line
“Silence, my friend.”
The black E350 turned finally into the Point Lobos entrance nearly ten full minutes later. The van slowed to a crawl, its high beam lights illuminating the area in front of it in light. Nick had slipped his light dimming glasses into place. This was not the first time he had faced an oncoming vehicle with full high-beam headlights. He put a burst through the windshield that nearly decapitated the driver. Shifting to the front driver’s side tire, Nick shredded it with another burst. The van dived left, heading in slow motion towards the woods. Nick then fired rounds into the front passenger side tire, and the passenger side rear, effectively bringing the vehicle to a halt on its rims.
The passenger side expunged three men, armed and firing wildly towards Nick’s chosen sniper roost as they rounded the van, using it for cover. Nick knew they could not see. Shifting to his lowlight goggles, he fired at any head showing for more than a split second. Two died instantly, before the third man understood the danger, and threw his weapon to the ground.
“Nick?”
“Stay where you are, Doc,” Nick replied. “I’ll let you know when to come out.”
“Acknowledged.”
After a few more moments Nick saw the third man’s hands sticking straight into the air as he appeared hesitantly at the rear of the van. Nick called out in Arabic. “Come out in front of the van. Lie down and extend your arms and legs fully.”
The survivor understood. He walked around the van, and did as Nick ordered. Nick called out again in Arabic. “Stay lying face down no matter what you hear. Do not even raise your head!”
Nick then fired the Barrett incrementally across the van, tearing through the sheet metal in an up and down zigzag pattern. The screams echoed out after the gunfire silenced. Nick called out to Gus and John to flank the sliding door on the van.
“Come out. Crawl out. Stay inside, and you die,” Nick shouted repeatedly in Arabic. Three more men, screaming in pain, clutching horrible wounds appeared at the sliding door. They crawled out to the ground. Gus and John dragged them clear of the opening. Nick ran to join his companions, bringing his own MP5 to bear on the van and survivors. He checked the van interior, dragging the dead driver backward, and through the sliding door to the ground. “Keep your prisoners guarded, but join us, Doc. Take a look at these guys, and help us watch them while I send photos to Paul.”
“Coming now.”
Seconds later, Downing and two of his men were watching over the prisoners with Gus and John. Nick then sent photos of each man’s face to Paul. He didn’t want to start any kind of interrogation until he received more information. While waiting for a response, Nick checked each man for identification or papers. He found nothing. The glove compartment and inside of the van were clean of anything indicating their prisoners’ origin. Paul called after the search was completed.
“They’re all Pakistani ambassadorial staff. I bet you’ll be thrilled to know the only connection to anyone in our government is Nancy Pettinger. Two men you killed were vouched for by Pettinger’s office when Homeland requested their deportation. I sent agents to her underlings’ houses to speak with them in person. Pettinger engineered the blocking of those men’s deportation on grounds they were witnesses in a Department of Justice investigation that did not exist. She must have a backdoor into our operations. I’ll work that end. Let Downing take over from there. His men will transport all the survivors. My backup team will be there shortly. I’d like you, Gus, and John to get clear of this. Thank you for assuming control. As I said, I got sloppy. I should have sent in a combat team, but I’m shorthanded in that area at the moment. It won’t happen again, Nick.”
“You will call me if you get the okay on Pettinger, won’t you. Our US Marshals already have an interest. I’m certain this maneuver should get some people thinking this bitch has to be stopped at any cost.”
“Count on it. I will test the waters at DOJ concerning Marshals Stanwick and Reinhold being more than shadowy liaisons in matters of national security. As you can imagine, tonight’s ambush, orchestrated by one of their own, is not a popular subject. I believe they’ll be more receptive in the future to joint operations if we can deal with the traitor before she does anything that actually succeeds. I’ll call you tomorrow. Great work!”
Nick shrugged at Downing. “The boss wants to limit my guys’ exposure, so we’ll have to leave you with the leftovers. Your backup team will be here soon. Keep your heads down, and trust no one until we settle with our DOJ leak. You have my number if you need independent confirmation on anything.”
“Take off, Nick,” Downing agreed. “Thanks for backing our play. Do you think they decided to stop tailing and attack?”
“I think so. They thought about it when you turned into here. They made a decision, or someone made it for them. If I find out anything newsworthy, I’ll call you. If you don’t hear from me, it’s because we settled out of court.”
Downing laughed. “Understood. See ya’.”
Nick gave Downing a small salute, and walked over to where Gus and John had already loaded the Dodge when Downing’s men took over. Gus drove near Nick, and a moment later, they were driving toward Nick’s house with Nick explaining about Pettinger. “I’ll lock the gear at my place until tomorrow, John. I don’t want you stopped without me in here with you. Your ID is good, but the locals would take you downtown anyway if they saw what we’re packing right now.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Gus mentioned. “Do you think we can put off pursuit of traitors for the weekend? Dansing’s media coverage is finally fading off the front pages. Thanks to John, we’ve taken down yet another terrorist cell, and we even stopped an attempted ambush. We need a couple of quiet mornings on the beach with a soothing elixir. Might I also remind you the editing is not finished yet on your new novel?”
By the time Gus finished categorizing their trials and tribulations, Nick and John were quietly humming along musically. When he finished, Nick answered in typical form. “Fine, Gus! We’ll put off saving Western Civilization until after your weekend beach break, you selfish prick. If for some reason we have to speed things along due to our US Marshal duo of Grace and Tim getting orders, John and I will put to rest Nancy Pettinger’s traitorous actions once and for all. It will not be the same when the famous trio, El Muerto, Payaso, and El Kabong must act on new intel without the lazy Payaso rascal.”
The three men enjoyed Nick’s counter to Gus’s request for a holiday, with Gus trying and failing to bring a point of order. “During our small break, didn’t you promise knife throwing lessons for this weekend?”
“Leave it to you, Payaso. We try to enjoy a small laugh at your expense, and you go nuclear on me,” Nick complained. “Yes, I agreed to teach knife throwing to my incorrigible daughter, the infamous Dagger.”
“What did Rachel say when you showed her the gift? I’ll bet you pulled out all the stops. ‘Oh dear, these are like works of art. They can’t be even considered weapons. Knife throwing will soon be an Olympic event. These are beautifully made treasures’.” When Gus finished his falsetto imitation of Nick’s imaginary plea to his wife, Nick was glaring at him, while John struggled mightily with snorts and clamped hands over mouth to keep from laughing
.
“Okay…. I did lay it on a little thick,” Nick admitted. “I have a problem with you mimicking me so accurately. I think the infamous Dagger betrayed my heartfelt pleas to her Mom in comical form for Uncle Gus’s amusement.”
“Guilty. I interrogated Dagger in a moment of weakness behind your back, brother. My questionable source told me Rachel was not drawn into the flowery praise of throwing knives. Jean was down at the mouth about it. She suspected the knives were going to be returned before she even touched one.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” Nick said. “I later carried on the conversation, reminding Rachel without training, Blackbeard would have had his way with Mona, Jean, and the weapon abhorrent Rachel. With training, I pointed out, Rachel handled Blackbeard like he was a cub scout with a bladder problem. I’ll be teaching knife throwing to both of my ladies thanks to the quick thinking of El Muerto, the master of deception.”
“You are the man, Muerto!”
“Thank you, Payaso, you disrespectful tool. You’re right though, I promised the lessons, so I’ll be creating a target site in my backyard. I’ll start them out with the basics tomorrow morning.”
“Do you still wish to imbibe the devil’s morning beverage at Otter’s Point tomorrow morning while we play Frisbee with the Dekester?”
“Yes, Brother John, we will be walking down together tomorrow early to continue our celebration of Lady Carol. There will be a few small doses of celebration tonight as well. I admitted to her my true past in answer to her last wish. Dan knows now too. It made her smile. I’m working on getting Dan to think about helping us out somewhere along the line, listening in where only a geezer could do so unnoticed. I believe he may warm to the idea of paying me back in such a way rather than money he can’t afford.”
Gus remained silent, his mouth tightening to check his emotions. Nick noticed, and put a hand on his shoulder. “We did right, partner. Dan will never betray us. I couldn’t refuse Carol’s request. I may have reacted over the top afterwards, but don’t worry about Dan knowing.”
Gus nodded. “That was special what you did, Muerto. We won’t overdo it tonight, because I’m looking forward to the arctic chill, and waves crashing on the rocks tomorrow, while we sip our enhanced coffee. I’m sure your knife throwing will not suffer because of it.”
Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) Page 31