“I want an answer!”
I took a deep breath. “The answer is no; and it will be no every single time you ask. You’re beginning to bore the hell out of me. Don’t make me get a restraining order.”
By then, some security guards were standing around us. Carl noticed. He backed away, pointing a finger in my direction. “It will happen, pug!”
“Sure thing, Carl. Come by before my next fight. You can help train me. I’ll sharpen my skills by knocking you down a few more times.”
When Carl started forward, Tommy, Jess and Dev stepped in front of him, thereby saving his life. Tommy gestured security back momentarily. “Go home, Carl. Enjoy your boxing championship and let this go.”
Carl turned away, fists clenched and fuming. Security walked along with him. Bruno stepped in to the space vacated by Carl as the media still around became more interested. My cage crew gave him room to face me.
“You fight me next, Harding.”
“We’ve been over this before, Bruno. You can’ bypass the other contenders ranked ahead of you. Beat a few fighters ranked over you and it will interest the fans as well as the UFC.”
“That is the way it works, Bruno. You have a unique cage name and you’re big,” Tommy told him. “Fight some contenders and the UFC will like the drawing power you would have.”
“You already agreed to fight me. We shook hands on it!”
“Is that true, Champ,” one of the ESPN guys asked.
Bruno showed him a still of us shaking hands. By then, Lynn had the incident ready on her iPad. She played the entire meeting video for the reporter.
“No offense, Bruno, but that does not look or sound anything like an agreement to fight,” the reporter said. “It looks more like you got schooled.”
“We will fight, Harding!” Bruno became the second unhappy fighter to exit after getting in my face.
“Would you eventually fight Bruno?” the reporter asked.
“If I’m still Champ when The Cannibal fights his way up in the ranks, I won’t duck him.”
“His cage name is The Cannibal?”
“Catchy, huh?”
“It makes sense,” the reporter replied. “You already train with a maneater named Captain Hook.”
Kade slid into view. “Captain Hook likes my dad!”
The reporter chuckled. “I’ll bet.”
* * *
The Unholies sat on Nick’s balcony with drinks in hand. “We’re all back home. Thanksgiving with everyone at our house in the North Bay surpassed any Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,” Nick said.
“That was because you’re an orphan,” Rachel said from across the room. “I can’t believe it’s December already.”
“Technically, I was in Foster Care.”
“Technically, that’s the same thing, Muerto,” Rachel retorted. “When do you need to be in Detroit?”
“Next Friday, Johnny and I will to be in position. I worked out the schedule with Paul. He has a military flight for us to Selfridge Air Base, arriving at 6 pm, with an untraceable car at the base. Johnny and I have plenty of time to reach Raab’s address. Another military flight leaves from Selfridge the next morning at 6 am sharp. We’ll be back home on Saturday before noon.”
“The only reason Muerto didn’t fix it for the Friday after Thanksgiving was because of the great party we had in the North Bay,” Gus said. “Plus, we doubted the Raabs would go to dinner at their favorite restaurant the day after Thanksgiving.”
“It gives me time to establish being back here. I really didn’t figure on doing it on Black Friday,” Nick said. “I stopped by our neat bookstore on Lighthouse Avenue and offered to do an hour talk on writing Thursday evening, followed by a question and answer session. I will mention the new novel I’m writing and plans to seclude myself in the house all weekend to get ahead of schedule.”
“Did you finally decide on a title for the new one?” Jian asked. “Remember. You said Mann Wong has a big part in it.”
“Yes. I call it Pop Goes the Chinese Weasel. Mann Wong falls in love, gets dumped, and has an affair with a gay pole dancer.”
Johnny and Gus barely caught Jian in time before he attacked, ending in his death.
* * *
Johnny drove. They tested communications with their network. Jafar ran the show from Pain Central. Gus, Jian and the kids worked the monitors with satellite imaging and heat sensing signals.
“They left the house at 6 pm, Muerto,” Jafar said. “GPS has them at The Whitney right now. How close are you?”
“Entering Detroit city limits now,” Nick answered. “We’re driving carefully to avoid any kind of law enforcement stop. We’ll be at the house in less than ten minutes. How did you do on their security system?”
“Piece of cake. They have a wireless system. Once I hacked into their wifi, I intercepted the codes. They do keep an eye on their place with their smartphones. I sent the cam positioning to your phones. Let me know when to give them a few minutes of glitch for your entry. I will zap everything in there once you report success.”
“Perfect.”
* * *
“I will be Governor of this state soon!”
“You must tone down your rhetoric, Toshida. I have read rumors even the idiot Democrats plan to disavow you before the next election,” Fahim Raab cautioned as he walked beside her to their house entrance.
“The Democrats are a joke. They believe anything. We can lie to them without worry. Even when caught in lies, they cover for each other and us. Truth to them is meaningless. Truth is whatever the media plasters into headlines day after day. They commit treason, weaponize supposedly incorruptible law enforcement agencies, and still they are not arrested. I will be Governor. We will make a fortune and implement Sharia everywhere.”
Fahim disengaged the security system and closed the door behind his wife. A black masked figure emerged from the bedroom with a silenced machine pistol. “Scream, and you die! Get on your knees with hands locked behind your heads!”
Sobbing, both Raabs knelt with hands interlaced behind heads.
“Why…why are you doing this?” Toshida asked. “We have money! I am a Congressional Representative! I am royalty!”
The masked man restrained them. He positioned the Raabs facing each other, one on the couch, and the other on the loveseat. “Well, isn’t this nice.”
* * *
“How does it look, Achmed?” Nick asked.
“Very good. I say proceed.”
Nick gagged Toshida. He then took off Fahim’s shoe and sock. Nick injected Fahim with a syringe of muscle relaxant between the toes, very difficult to trace. Nick put Fahim’s sock and shoe back on. He walked behind Fahim and began messaging the man’s shoulders.
“I bet Toshida has pissed you off many times with her big mouth and vile tongue, huh Fahim?”
Feeling the effects of the drug, Fahim smiled across at the terrified Toshida Raab. “Yes! I have thought many times of taking her back to Beit Ur al-Fauqa and having her stoned to death. She is a loud-mouthed bitch!”
With already Nitrile gloved hands, Nick cut the restraints on Fahim’s wrists. He put a snub-nosed .38 special into his right hand, keeping it pointed at the squirming Toshida. Nick grinned as Fahim shot Toshida Raab without being forced. The lung shot suited Nick’s purposes perfectly. He and Fahim watched as she choked on her own blood, falling to the floor in a convulsing heap, while Nick kept Fahim’s finger off the trigger.
“Nice shot!”
Nick pinched off Fahim’s nose then until he opened his mouth. Nick jammed the barrel up inside and pulled the trigger, keeping Fahim’s hand on the grip. Nick had used low-load hollow point ammo to cause the most damage. He allowed the weapon to fall with Fahim’s hand on it. Nick surveyed the scene with care, adjusting minor aspects. Toshida needed to have her restraints cut and hands positioned in the blood. When satisfied, Nick left the Raab home, inspecting each house within sight to see if anyone investigated the scene. No lights came on.
No one emerged to check out the noise. A light snow began to fall. Nick hurried out to the sidewalk, locking the door behind him, and proceeded down the street to his pickup point.
* * *
Jafar signed off the network, turning to me with a big smile. “He did not become the number one assassin in the world by accident. I have turned the Raab security system back on.”
We had watched the Raab assassination on screen. “I think I’ll drive down to the Grove with Lora, Al and Kade. I believe the Unholies wouldn’t mind an Irish afternoon.”
“Don’t forget we’re on the water tomorrow morning for a Captain Hook feeding,” Lynn said. “Are you going to train?”
“Yep. I took time off after the fight. Hook will be wondering where the hell I am.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Clint said.
* * *
I rode Hook with shark fin hat in place after a gritty twenty-minute Rocky poke pole workout. The Captain had been surfacing nearby, checking to see when I finished. The damn shark had attuned itself to Sea Wolf and me. Hook seemed to love being my ride. Returning me to the fantail always shocked the hell out of us.
I had prepped Elbaz for the feeding. Hook loved it. I wasted no time getting rid of our former prisoner. The Captain emerged to show his cleaned-up mouth and circled for twenty minutes, demanding his petting and stroking on the fantail. I allowed Kade to stroke him with Clint pointing the elephant gun at Hook’s head. Kade wanted to hop on board the new Monster.
“Please, Dad!”
“I’m not mamma Lora, Kade. You can’t roll me. You petted Captain Hook. Mamma Lora would harpoon me if she found out about that.”
Kade’s eyes bulged. “I…I won’t tell, Dad!”
“Good. Sometime in the future, it may happen, but not for a long time. You, me and Hook have an understanding now.”
“Yep… we sure do.”
* * *
Nick and I watched Kade following Deke everywhere while me, Lora, Rachel and the Unholies sipped Irish coffee at noontime on a calm December day on the beach at Otter’s Point. Al trailed Kade with Jean and her crew hovering around Quinn as he practiced his walking in the sand. Johnny fed his birds, enveloped by hovering and squawking companions. Nick and I toasted.
“All is right with the world for a moment, brother.”
“Absolutely.”
The End
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Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding) Page 29