Northern Sun: Book Four in The Mad Mick Series

by Franklin Horton

  Omar’s body stiffened in pain but no sound escaped his mouth. They all understood that the pain had so overwhelmed him that he found himself unable to scream at the moment. Nerves were flooded with pain signals. His brain was paralyzed by the overwhelming surge of sensations. His captors waited patiently for several moments, then it came. The gasp of breath, the scream that disintegrated into sobs, prayers, and moans.

  When Trent felt that Omar had regained enough composure to actually hear the words he spoke, he continued. “Let me remind you that there are many more joints in the human body. Shall we continue?”

  Omar’s response was a protracted scream of pain that warbled and reverberated from the walls like a fire alarm.

  Trent waited for Omar to regain control of himself. It was a few moments before Omar was able to hear over his own screaming. “If you tell me what I need to know, the doctor will inject you with a pain medication and all of this agony will fade away. It’s in your hands, Omar.”

  “We...were...not...not...going home,” Omar gasped, the pain blinding, making it difficult to form sentences.

  “Then why regroup at designated locations?”

  “Phase two,” Omar wailed. “There was a phase two!”

  Everyone in the observation room sat up straighter, leaning toward the monitor.

  “What the fuck is phase two?” Trent shouted. “Don’t bullshit me, Omar! I need answers!”

  He didn’t want to give Omar time to think, time to come up with a lie. He kept the pressure up. He snatched the vomit-soaked hood from Omar’s head and tossed it to the ground. He wanted Omar to see his rage, wanted him to understand his determination. He needed Omar to sense that he was about to become unhinged and that would be a very bad thing.

  Trent snatched the hammer from the technician’s hand and raised it high above Omar’s remaining good knee. “You tell me now, by God! Tell me! What is phase two?”

  Omar sobbed and moaned. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you! Don’t hurt me!”

  “Then talk,” Trent hissed. “Do not jerk me around or so help me—”

  “Phase two is random attacks,” Omar sobbed.

  “Attacks on who?”

  “Civilians. Law enforcement.”

  Trent tossed the hammer onto the plastic table. Omar flinched when it banged down and the assortment of instruments rattled. Trent leaned in close to Omar’s face. “Pretend I’m simple, Omar. Explain this operation to me like I’m dumb as a goat. If I think you’re holding back on me, you know what I’ll do, right?”

  Omar nodded in terror.

  “Right?” Trent screamed.

  “Yes!”

  “Then talk. Tell me everything.”

  “Every compound has an armory. This was something the ‘host’ had to provide and they’d been given a year to put it together. They were supposed to have guns and ammunition for all of us. We were going to visit random communities and strike against whoever we saw out moving around. We were supposed to spread terror. Random attacks against ordinary people.”

  “If I have time to ask questions, you’re not talking fast enough,” Trent said.

  Omar’s expression grew frantic. “We hadn’t launched any attacks yet. I don’t know about the other groups. I don’t know if they’ve started yet but it was too cold up there. We couldn’t take the weather. No one wanted to go out on any missions until it warmed up. Once spring got here, our plan was go out for days at a time, attack people and towns, then come back to our base while the heat died down.”

  “Any idea of how many encampments there are across the country?”

  “No,” Omar moaned. “Maybe dozens, but that’s a guess from the rumors I heard.”

  Trent directed the technician to replace Omar’s hood, then turned to the camera. He gave a gesture that they interpreted to mean “anything else?”

  In the observation room, Ricardo looked from Conor to Shani. They both shook their heads. He raised the radio to his mouth. “We have no questions.”

  “Administer pain meds and stabilize the knee,” Trent instructed the physician.

  34

  Trent entered the observation room and turned off the wall monitor. No one wanted the distraction of Omar’s suffering while they were trying to think.

  “Are there people still working who can research this kind of thing?” Conor asked.

  Trent and Ricardo both nodded at the same time.

  “It’s a big lake but if we access property records there are probably only a handful of fishing resorts that have changed hands in the last few years,” Trent said.

  “And most would never close to remodel over the summer,” Ricardo said. “They’d do that in the off-season. Chances are you’ll only find one that was closed last summer.”

  “Maybe we can get satellite footage and take a look,” Shani suggested.

  “Are Shani and I going to be part of this operation?” Conor asked. “I know Ricardo had jobs lined up for us but I’m assuming this takes precedence.”

  Ricardo and Trent exchanged a glance.

  “We had work,” Ricardo agreed, “but I think this needs to be addressed first since there’s an imminent risk to civilians from these phase two attacks. Of course, this depends on whether Trent’s people want us to do the work and whether they’re willing to pick up the tab.”

  Trent nodded. “I’ll certainly need to make some phone calls but the current state of our government has shortened the chain of command. It’s easier to leave people out of the loop when it’s so complicated to get a hold of anyone. I think we’re all aware that every branch of government would handle this differently if the ball was in their court. The FBI would want to send their people and the DHS would want to send theirs. The Pentagon would want to send in a SEAL team. The White House would want to do a drone strike.”

  “You only have control of the intelligence if you control the operation,” Conor pointed out. “If someone else had run this op, you might not be the one in there swinging the hammer.”

  “I don’t enjoy coercive intelligence gathering,” Trent spat.

  “I’m not saying you do,” Conor replied. “But you got information in ten minutes that a suspect in FBI custody, represented by a lawyer and protected by his rights, might not have ever given up. I support your methods one hundred percent. My point is that you need to do everything you can to control this operation. If you lose control of it, if it gets bogged down in the system, these phase two attacks could potentially kill thousands of people all over the country.”

  “That would be a real kick in the gut,” Shani said. “People survive this long and think the worst might be behind them, then random attacks start popping up around the country. Everyone will be scared all over again.”

  “I’m going to go make some calls,” Trent said. “When I get back here I need a commitment of four operators. I won’t go with your team with less than four, Ricardo. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

  Shani and Conor exchanged a frown.

  “These are two highly-skilled individuals,” Ricardo said. “They don’t fuck things up.”

  “We can handle this,” Conor said. “We did fine with Mumin’s group.”

  Trent shrugged. “We didn’t understand what you were walking into. Our intel hadn’t picked up the other men staying there. We were only interested in Mumin and had pieced together that this was his likely location. If we’d known the numbers, I’d have insisted on more bodies.”

  “Yet despite the numbers,” said Shani, “we handled it.”

  “You got lucky that they were all in a single house. You may not be so lucky at this fishing resort. These men may be scattered out in cabins around the property. If that’s the case it’s going to be a riskier operation with more moving parts.”

  “Do you have two more bodies available?” Shani asked Ricardo.

  He raised a hand to halt the line of questioning. “We’ll discuss that while Trent is making his calls. While I have a good working relationship with
Trent and his employers, discussion of our assets is proprietary information. I’d rather we talk this over in private.”

  “Fair enough,” Shani agreed.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Trent said. “How about we plan to regroup in ninety minutes and see where we’re at?”

  Ricardo nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

  Shani and Conor stared at Ricardo while they waited to make sure Trent was clear of the area.

  “Is there a problem?” Shani asked.

  Ricardo sighed. “We’re stretched a little thin at the moment.”

  “I thought your network was huge?” said Conor. “I thought you had people everywhere?”

  “It is, but a lot of our assets, like you, are involved in policing their own communities. Some are subcontracting with local groups in different capacities. Other employees with shallower roots—that is, not bound to a particular community—are working executive protection for actors, professional athletes, and business people. I’ve also got black contracts in Dubai, the Emirates, Nigeria, Thailand, and Mexico. I’ve got a mile-long list of people that other people want dead before order is restored in the United States. Every deployable asset is out there working a job.”

  Conor held up a hand. “Excuse me, I’ve been doing this a while and I have some familiarity with the landscape. Exactly who in Nigeria is big enough to warrant a black contract?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Shani added.

  Ricardo smiled. “A tech giant with a lot of money tracked down a Nigerian who scammed his mother. He found the guy but has no legal recourse against him. Besides, it’s not about the money, it’s about the indignity. He wants the guy dead and figures this is the time to do it. I took the job at cost because I hate those fucking guys too.”

  “Easy work for a sniper,” Conor said. “I’d take a contract like that.”

  Ricardo shook his head. “The job came with extras. The client wanted the target killed, gutted, and his body cavity packed with cell phones as a message to other scammers.”

  Shani cringed. “Nasty. Who’d take a job like that?”

  “You’d be surprised. I employ a range of specialists,” Ricardo replied. “It takes all kinds. Besides, this one will pay really well.”

  “So, you’re tapped out?” Shani confirmed. “The labor pool is empty?”

  “No shooters left. Just white-collar guys. Accountants, hackers, and spies.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?” Conor asked.

  Shani and Ricardo looked at him expectantly.

  “Let’s bring in Doc Marty and my daughter, Barb.”

  Ricardo was shaking his head before Conor was even done speaking.

  “Wait, isn’t Doc Marty that black-tie, boutique dentist?” Shani asked. “Has he ever fired a gun?”

  “He’s worked the field before. He and I had some bad blood when Ricardo dumped him off on me but we’ve mended those bridges. I’ve also had him doing fieldwork with me at home. He’d be solid for something like this. He’s not a door-kicker but he can run a gun and he’ll do what you tell him with no questions.”

  “I don’t like the idea of taking your daughter into a fight with you,” Ricardo said. “Your mind won’t be on the job if you’re worried about her.”

  Shani was nodding. “I have the same concern, Conor.”

  “Allow me to use Barb’s own words here. She recently told me that she’s killed more men than she’s kissed in this world and that should tell you something about Barb Maguire.”

  “Is that true?” Ricardo asked. “Because I’m fucking impressed...in a weird sort of way.”

  “Hell yeah, it’s true. For better or worse, I’ve trained her since childhood. She’s got a ground game that I’d put against anyone, even Shani. She’s killed in hand-to-hand and with weapons. She’s got no fear. She’s at home serving as the informal sheriff of our little community.”

  Ricardo folded his fingers together in front of him. “You know, Conor, you need to be sure this is a step you want to take. Once she’s on the books I can’t guarantee I won’t call her for more work down the road. If she’s as good as you say she is, I could keep her busy.”

  Conor’s expression was bitter. “The thought of that hurts my gut, Ricardo, but I can’t hide her forever. Without even understanding what I was doing, I trained her for this my entire life. It’s the only thing she knows how to do. Except for being a little hot-headed, she’s a perfect weapon.”

  Shani shrugged. “A lot of us come out of the gate that way. We mellow with age.”

  Conor raised an eyebrow. “You’re mellow?”

  “You mellow if you survive the job,” Ricardo pointed out. “You understand that right? There are risks in this line of work that we can’t mitigate.”

  “I know and I’ll leave the choice to her,” said Conor. “She’s an adult.”

  Ricardo held a finger in the air. “And one more thing, Human Resources is down at the moment. We’ll have to formalize the arrangement at a later date. You have my word that I’ll bring her in at entry scale with all the same benefits as the rest of you mutts. That good?”

  Conor extended a hand. “Shake on it?”

  Ricardo extended his hand and took Conor’s. “It’s a deal. Make the call.”

  35

  Ragus was expecting the worst when he answered the phone. Previously Conor had made him swear to never answer if he heard it ringing, but he made an exception for this trip. He told the boy this would be his only method of reaching them if he needed to. It would also be the way Ricardo would contact them if the worst happened and Conor was killed or injured.

  Life at the Jewell Ridge compound had already slowed for the evening. It was dark and the animals were cared for. The gate was secured and the perimeter alarms set. Doc Marty, Shannon, and Ragus were working on dinner, with a plan to play cards afterward. They’d been teaching Ragus how. Barb was still staying with Johnny Jacks’ family while she helped maintain security in the isolated valley.

  The three were in the kitchen cooking a dinner of gyros with goat meat, feta, and falafel. It took a moment for the chirping of the satellite phone to register. Then they all looked at each other with anticipation and dread.

  “You better answer it,” Shannon told Ragus.

  Her comment snapped him from his paralysis and he rushed off to Conor’s radio room.

  “Hello?” he gasped, pressing the button to take the call.

  “It’s okay, me boy,” Conor said immediately. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  Ragus released an audible sigh. “Good. You had us worried for a second.”

  “Things okay on the old homestead?”

  “Everything is fine, Conor. We were working on dinner. Shannon is a really good cook. She’s teaching me to make falafel and tabbouleh.”

  “Safe to say you may be the only resident of Jewell Ridge with a taste for tabbouleh,” Conor teased. “Have you heard from Barb lately?”

  “She was by here today. She wanted to pick up some things from her room.”

  “She say anything about what she’d been dealing with over there?”

  “She said it was calm. The weather has been good and people have been out moving around. Nothing serious going on.”

  “That’s good,” Conor replied. “Glad to hear that. Sounds like things are fine.”

  “Are you fine?”

  “Yeah, but this job isn’t over yet. I’m going to be a little longer. As a matter of fact, I need to speak with Doc Marty.”

  “I’ll get him.”

  “Lad!” Conor snapped. “Before you go, I need to ask you something.”

  “I’m still here, Conor.”

  “If I need to pull Barb and Doc Marty away for a week, are you comfortable with looking after the compound?”

  “I think so,” Ragus replied. “I’ve done it before by myself. With Shannon helping, it won’t be any problem at all.”

  “Would you feel better if Barb asked one or two of W
ayne’s folks over at the firehouse to come stay with you?”

  “No,” Ragus said. “I think I’d feel more comfortable if it was just us. I don’t like looking after strangers. You aren’t thinking I need a babysitter, are you?”

  “No, lad, I just want you to feel comfortable with looking after the place.”

  “I can do it. I’ll be fine.”

  “I have faith in you, Ragus. You know that. I always have.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Then fetch that shady dentist to the phone and let me jaw at him.”

  “I’ll do it, Conor. Stay safe.”

  “You do the same, lad.”

  Ragus carried the phone to the kitchen and extended it to Doc Marty. “He wants to speak to you.”

  A curious expression on his face, Doc took the phone and headed off to the living room with it. “What’s up, Conor?”

  “This job of Ricardo’s has blown up into something bigger. We have an opportunity to take out some of the terrorists who created this mess but we need two more shooters to get the contract. Would you like a crack at the asshats who blew up your country?”

  “I’d love to. You know this isn’t the kind of job Ricardo typically puts me on. Is he cool with it?”

  “In this case, yes. I told him you’d gained a lot of combat experience while you’d been vacationing at Club Conor and I felt comfortable taking you.”

  “I appreciate that, Conor. When do I need to be ready?”

  “Well, you remember that I said I needed two more shooters? I want to bring Barb aboard too.”

  Doc Marty hesitated for a moment.

  “And before you ask, yes I’m fucking sure,” Conor said. “I’ve thought this out and she needs the opportunity. As much as I hate to think about it, everyone needs to find their place in the world and this may be hers. I can’t think of another line of work more suited to the girl than following in my footsteps.”