Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Good. I will have extra eyes on Kade. He already told Lora he wants to go out on the ocean every time he can. She, of course, blames me because the kid loves everything without people around him in fear all the time.”

  “That is exactly how Jean was when I guarded them at the beginning. She had been running so long with her Mom and being afraid, when I came along, I was the perfect fit. It took Rachel a little more time to accept me than it did Jean and Deke. I brought the silencer for my M107, but it would be good if everyone had ear protection.”

  “We have all of that on board since Clint bought an elephant gun in case Hook goes off the rails. If he ever launched out of the water onto the fantail, I think the Captain would sink us. Clint makes sure that doesn’t happen. Lucas fills in for him if Clint’s gone.”

  “Good plan. I’m glad you have something plotted out for Hook surprises. How do you like the new MK47 Striker you replaced your XM307 with? Gus broke me down and I got one for the Lucky Lady. I still have my lucky XM307 stashed aboard too though,” Nick confessed.

  “We like the upgraded power to the 40mm round. I had one installed on the Ranger, along with our XM307 from Sea Wolf. Never can have too much firepower. We’re never replacing the Ma Deuce though. That .50 caliber machine gun beauty is too reliable to replace. Did you set anything in place with your agent for book signings?”

  “Yep. We have three scheduled in short order after we arrive. The last one takes place well before your fight at the Barclay’s Center. I will go there a week before with anyone who wants to see New York City again. I guess Jafar gave you my report on Dhamfo, concerning who originally used him in Boston, huh?”

  “We stopped an attack in advance by blowing up Willarie Blinton,” I replied. “What a nice surprise. It’s a relief around here to have Dev as Mayor. All the great changes to Oakland under Flo will be consolidated. The West Oakland Gang incident the other day was the first confrontation I’ve had with any of the inner-city gangbangers for a while. Nat Rooks had to bus in Antifa/BLM mobs to try and confront us.”

  “Mayor Constantine with the Oaktown Tactical Unit behind him, can make another huge gain in an era of hope for the city. You do know after Flo gets the illegal immigrant entitlements stripped away, she will ask us to build on her idea of self-contained communities to rehabilitate the vagrants, getting them off the street and away from annoying the hell out of working people, right?”

  “I know, Nick, and I don’t think she understands how we created the City of Hope. We will need a different carrot and stick approach from the way we did it in the Sand, with sniper rifles and machine gun nests.”

  That amused Nick. “We need some way to coerce these people back into proper hygiene, working every day, and moderation in all other things. I also don’t believe Flo understands we will need areas to build something like she envisions. Even within the communities, there will be a need to separate folks down on their luck from the drug and alcohol abusers, con artists, and just plain lazy bums.”

  “Agreed. Stripping away entitlements and cracking down on employers hiring illegal immigrants, will create jobs and create opportunities for citizens to fill them,” I replied. “Ending illegal immigration will ease the burden on hospitals, schools and prisons. We may be able to fit the vagrants into job openings by offering immunity from prosecution for employers caught hiring illegal immigrants.”

  “Not bad, John. Many vagrants will need to choose between leaving the state or be put into work camps. Fitting willing workers into jobs and housing would be preferable, but we’ll need a solid database to list any openings instantly. I hate to say this, but I think it’s easier to kill bad guys than help lazy ones.”

  Nick caught me by surprise with that line. I nearly blew coffee through my nose. I stood. “Okay for you… funnyman, I’ll see you on the dock at 11 am sharp.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  * * *

  Tommy and Lynn worked me over but good with Rocky poke pole. I stung so many hands, the workout seemed to fly by. Captain Hook arrived to emerge under me at the last of my time, so I rode my buddy after donning the shark fin hat, with the kids laughing and clapping. I clutched Hook’s fin, stroking his face as we flew through the water. He did a couple of laps around Sea Wolf and then submerged for his famous leap clearing, water trick. Hook soared into the sky before diving down under for a repeat of the onlooker terrifying leap. The Captain buzzed around, letting me disembark at the fantail, where Tommy had already set out the huge pork roasts I bought for our private eating machine.

  Kade, Al, Sonny, Jean and Jay watched in open-mouth wonder as Hook surfaced at the fantail, monstrous mouth ready. I threw the first roast in. I believe he enjoyed pork roast better than people. He seemed in ecstasy while making sure to chomp into the roast and clean every bit from the surface. After the last roast, he showed me his clean mouth. I stroked him more at the fantail with Hook circling and coming back for more. After fifteen minutes, the Captain sped off, leaving a happy younger audience staring out at his disappearing fin.

  Kade jumped around while holding his sister’s hand. “That was great! Captain Hook likes you, Dad!”

  “He does seem to.” I stripped off my dry-suit. “I’ll take a shower and we can fish for a while if you kids would like.”

  “We all want to,” Jean replied. “I would like to see my Dad ride the Captain, but he said he’d rather shoot Hook in the head with the elephant gun.”

  “That’s just mean, Nick.”

  Nick shrugged as all the kids looked at him with grim, disapproving faces, but the amused adults appreciated Nick’s stark handling of Hook idea. “Now kids… I wouldn’t shoot him without a reason. I would rather shoot Hook than ride him though, if those were my options.”

  By the time I returned from the shower, the adults who came along helped the kids get started fishing along the port railing, with Nick watching over them. Tommy, Lucas and Clint cast their lines in on the starboard side. No one wanted to fish at the fantail and have Captain Hook suddenly break the surface in front of them. Lynn had radar watch on the bridge with a cup of tea. I stayed with Nick and the kids. I brought over a cup of coffee for him.

  Nick had brought along a dozen bright yellow frisbees for target practice. The kids all had .22 caliber rifles to plink with, except Kade. I planned on letting him try it with the CO2 propelled pellet rifle I brought along for him. The fish were biting for the adults, even Tommy, who Dev and Jess labeled Captain Fish Repellant. Jean caught and fought a good-sized Pacific Hake to the boat. I netted it and brought the fish to the deck. We naturally strung it for her and took pictures. At nearly two feet long, it had been an adventure for Jean to fight it in.

  Lynn sounded the alarm as she started the engines, calling out over our audio system. “Three boats approaching at full speed! Lucas!”

  Lucas ran for the bridge. I hustled the kids down into our cabins. We armor plated the outside of the Sea Wolf long ago. Everything on her was bullet resistant. “We’re heading for port kids and Sea Wolf can outrun just about anything.”

  “We’re not worried, Uncle John,” Jean said. “My dad will pulp the heads of all the people on their bridges and Clint will rake the boats under the water line with Ma Deuce. We can then turn around, put on Ride of the Valkyries while Lynn fires the MK47 40mm Striker. We have one on the Lucky Lady. It’s awesome.”

  “You’re scaring me, Jean. Get below. Listen to Al, Kade!”

  Jean giggled and Kade said, “Okay, Dad.”

  “Watch the monitors down below. You’ll be able to see everything. Watch after them, brother.”

  “I will.” Tommy took one of our MP5s down with him.

  Clint already popped out our two turrets, taking position behind our Ma Deuce .50 caliber machine gun. Lynn took position at the MK47 Striker. Both were loaded and ready from the time we left the dock. Nick handed me my M107 sniper rifle. We had both planned to do target practice. He also passed me a set of range finders. The boats were still
out of range and sight. Lynn could fire a programmable 40mm round at them inside two-thousand yards. It might dissuade them until we could get the kids to safety. Then… they better be running. I told Nick what Jean told me. Yeah… he enjoyed the hell out of that.

  “Only twelve and already a Monster.” Nick sighed, comically holding his hands in prayerful form at his chest. “I’m so proud.”

  “The boats do not acknowledge!” Lucas called out over our audio system. “I have Jafar trying to get satellite imaging now back at Central. I’m putting him on audio the moment he finds them.”

  A few minutes later before we could see the boats, Jafar spoke. “Two Sea Wolf size patrol boats with what looks like .30 caliber machine guns and what appears to be one of those small AEI 20mm mounted guns. The sleeker craft looks like a dual engine turboprop and is gaining on you. It has dual .30 caliber machine guns mounted at the bow. They must be triggered from inside the bridge.”

  “I’ll take it out with Ma Deuce,” Clint said. “Those thirties don’t have the range.”

  “Sounds good, Clint,” I replied. “I’ll spot for Nick when I can see it.”

  We saw the water crests at each side of the boat. Man… that baby was moving fast. Amazingly, we saw a fin break the surface at our fantail and race toward the speed boat. “Uh oh… I think my buddy Hook has delusions of grandeur.”

  “He looks committed, John. We are recording this, right?”

  “Yep.”

  Fifty yards before the speed boat reached Captain Hook, the monstrous great white shark launched out of the water. The speed boat driver never saw him until Hook crashed right on top of it. The boat literally disintegrated under Hook’s weight. Hook went to work on the crew. We could see him plunging repeatedly. Yeah… the rest of us cheered him on.

  “Good Lord… never in my life did I think to witness something like that,” Nick muttered, still sighting for when the patrol boats came into sight.

  I used the rangefinders to spot for him. One boat came into vision, coming full speed toward Hook’s feeding zone with a guy preparing the .30 caliber machine gun on the starboard side. I called out specifics. He began to turn the gun onto Hook’s form. Nick fired a magazine, raking the machine gun and the man.

  “I don’t think so, prick. No one touches my buddy, Hook.” Nick reloaded and wiped out the bridge crew.

  Clint fired on the second boat, raking .50 caliber spent uranium loads across the boat’s bridge. Both crafts came to a halt. Lynn used the MK 47 40mm Striker to turn them into floating debris.

  “Jesus…” Jafar voiced shakily over the audio system. “Did…did you order Hook to take that boat out, John?”

  It made me wonder for a moment. Lucas circled back around, giving a wide berth to Hook’s feeding zone. We approached with full audio Ride of the Valkyries playing. Only one survivor bobbed on top of the water, waving a hand at us.

  “That’s as close as I can get with all that debris,” Lucas called out.

  We had a dinghy. Nick smiled at me. “I think I’ll go ask our survivor a few questions.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Muerto,” Lynn said. “Let me get him to Pain Central. We have a better chance of learning the story.”

  “Okay… but I’m not real happy bringing this guy on board with the kids.”

  “True,” Lynn admitted. “You just want to do a Dr. Muerto.”

  “So… what’s your point?”

  Clint and I slipped our dinghy into the water, amused by the exchange between Dr. Muerto and Dr. Deville. We had time, so all of us slipped our networking gear on, which also put us on line with Jafar. Nick got in the dinghy with Clint, who kept his Colt trained on the survivor while Nick rowed to him, avoiding the use of our small electric propeller motor because of the thick debris. The guy gripped the dinghy’s rail. Clint popped him on the head with the butt of his Colt, sending the survivor back down into the water. He floundered for a moment before gripping the large piece of debris he had been clinging to.

  The survivor pleaded in Spanish. “Please… help me… my leg… is broken! I need a doctor!”

  “You are in luck, my good man,” Nick answered in Spanish while I’m sure he was grinning at the groans on our network. “Dr. Muerto is here for you. Who sent these boats after us?”

  “I do not know. We were on a drug run for the Tijuana Cartel… along the coast. Let me… get in the boat.”

  “What was the name of your lead boat?”

  “Stacker Bay. It is a yacht that met us out on the water at our usual drop north of Los Angeles. We put our delivery shipments on rafts. The buyers come, inspect… and leave us payment.”

  Nick glanced at Clint. “I’ve changed my mind. We need to hear more. I have heard the yacht’s name before.”

  “It belongs to Knut Tomney,” Jafar said.

  “That’s the one,” Nick replied.

  “This story does sound too convoluted to hear with him floating.” Clint and Nick plucked the man out of the water, frisked him thoroughly, and Nick rowed them to the Sea Wolf’s fantail.

  The survivor’s teeth were chattering from the fifty-something degree North Bay water. We had him strip off his clothes, which I heaved overboard. He would not be needing them when we took him for a final cruise. I set his leg with splints, after he dressed in a set of spare overalls, Jafar keeps on board to help Lucas do maintenance on Sea Wolf. It looked fractured at the knee joint because of the swelling at the side of the knee. I called the kids back on deck and stashed the survivor, bound, gagged, and hogtied in the lower cabin. I threw a blanket over him.

  Before Lucas steered us away, Hook visited for a petting. He even popped out of the water to show me his teeth. “Oh… look at that… who is a good boy? Captain Hook is a good boy!”

  He circled then to get petted before moving into the wreckage with his gang of scavengers, looking for a snack. Lucas sped away to a site closer to home port so the kids could fire their rifles as promised. The kids were so entertained by Hook, they didn’t want to talk about anything else.

  “We saw Hook smash the speedboat into splinters,” Al stated. “He came out of nowhere next to us and then attacked the boat! Holy crap!”

  “I want to ride him,” Kade repeated.

  “Great White Sharks live a long time,” Jean told him. “You may get a chance someday. I sure wouldn’t want to.”

  “Me either,” Sonny said.

  “He scares me just surfacing,” Jay added. “We researched the great whites. They do attack boats. We never read anything about them choosing sides in a battle though.”

  “Yeah… and them coming to get petted,” Jean added. “That’s freaky.”

  “No question about that, Jean,” Lynn responded. “The only one who goes near the fantail when Captain Hook arrives is the Cheeseburger.”

  “Cheeseburger?” Kade questioned in confusion.

  “That’s a nickname for your dad, Kade,” Lynn explained. “It’s quite a story. I’ll let your dad tell it later. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Lucas will take us to a place where you kids can practice with the rifles as we talked about, far enough away from the wreckage.”

  “Great. It didn’t look like my dad needs to practice much the way he shot that guy getting ready to fire on Hook.”

  “I get queasy feeling grateful to that damn seagoing eating machine,” Tommy said.

  “Hook’s our friend,” Kade replied.

  Tommy patted Kade’s shoulder. “If you say so, kid.”

  Chapter Eight

  More Intrigue

  I checked on our prisoner often. Like Nick said, we have the kids on board. We don’t need any other surprises. The shooting practice perked everyone up. The kids loved shooting at the frisbees with Nick, Clint and I explaining the two ways of shooting from a moving boat. Lucas oversaw the exercise, adding his insights and tips. Kade loved shooting and he did very well for a young boy under four. After the kids finished, we adults took turns shooting the two M107 sniper rifles on board. C
lint, Lucas and I shot equally well, but Nick’s shooting qualified as eerily good. Lynn performed adequately. We collected our targets and headed toward home. On the way back to port, we cleaned all the guns and serviced our turret weapons.

  Lora and Rachel met us at the dock. They were not happy with me and Muerto, but that would need to wait for a later time. Nick and I called them to collect the kids because we had Monster business to handle regarding our prisoner. I gave him a knockout cocktail. We stuffed him in an ammo crate for the transfer to transportation. At Pain Central, Jonas and Amara, fresh from their Vegas honeymoon, looked after Clint Jr. Clint and I rigged the survivor into Dr. Deville’s podiatry chair. I brought our guest to consciousness with another shot of wakey/wakey. He hated what he awoke to. Nick joined us in the examination room with Lynn. Jafar monitored the interrogation, ready to confirm everything the prisoner said.

  “I want to continue our conversation from where we left off,” Nick said in Spanish. “Do you speak English?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You mentioned drug drop-off points along the coast. Is that why you have a three-boat armada?”

  “We need protection, but also we need food and gasoline. Our boss told us to watch for the yacht, Stacker Bay, at our transfer point near LA. It was to transport our drugs and leave instructions for us to follow. The instructions directed us to your signal beacon, planted by someone the Cartel owns in Oakland.”

  “Uh oh,” Nick said. “Who is someone?”

  Silence, hesitation, and then a plea, “I’ll tell you everything… just let me live.”

  “Gee… and you were doing so good too,” Lynn said.

  I pinched his nose and put in the ball gag. Away we went into podiatry hell. When Lynn finished, our guest needed fifteen minutes to speak, and even then, he vibrated.

  “What’s your name, dummy?” Lynn asked.

  “Raul.” His voice sounded as if he were being squeezed through a cheese cutter.