Cold Blooded (8 page)

“Tanus was your biggest employer with needs closely tied to ours. What are you going to do about work?”

“It may be time for you to stop waiting for bad guys to pay me to kill other bad guys. You’re the one making sure all the info and equipment materializes when I need it.”

“That’s funny, Nick. You want us to admit we double-ohseven your ass around the world to sanction people dangerous to the USA. Yeah, that’ll happen. Don’t forget who pockets the money from the hits.”

“I didn’t say put it out in the New York Times, Einstein,” Nick retorted. “Fine, we keep the status quo. I’ll be in touch.”

“Make it sooner rather than later, Pappy.”

Nick woke up. He slid silently out of bed in an instant, listening intently. The click of a door downstairs triggered the subconscious alarm Nick had spent decades honing. A glance at the bedroom wall told him his security system had been disabled.
Frank, you stupid son of a bitch
. He already held his Heckler & Koch USP-Tactical.45 caliber handgun with fitted silencer which had been on his nightstand. Even knowing the house plans intimately, Nick calculated it would take the intruder at least five minutes to move upstairs. The assassin would have been told to take no chances.

Moving out his open bedroom door while staying low to the floor, he came face to face with Deke. Nick smiled and gave the dog a quick stroke before moving quickly down the hallway to Rachel’s room with Deke following. In seconds, he maneuvered to her side. Nick clamped his left hand over her mouth while keeping the bedroom door covered. Rachel’s eyes flew open in shock. She saw Nick shake his head in the dark, and the hand moved away from her mouth. When Nick knew she was awake, he walked quickly over to the bedroom’s walk-in closet. Opening a door at the closet’s rear wall revealed a recessed armored doorway with digital security keypad. Nick opened the reinforced door. The interior safe room lights came on. He then returned to Rachel’s bedside.

“In two minutes time, run into Jean’s room, pick her up, and get her and Deke into the safe room. Make noise doing it,” Nick whispered close to Rachel’s ear. “Count the minutes now.”

Nick pointed at Deke purposefully and the dog sat down. Nick hurried silently toward the stairwell and down the stairs, his weapon trained in the direction of the house entranceway. He moved next to the ornate, open sliding oak door, separating the front entrance from the interior of his house. Nick heard the intruder threading his way slowly through the adjoining rooms. When Rachel made noise upstairs, Nick waited with weapon at the ready. The intruder quickened his assault, thinking Nick was moving upstairs. Nick fired two silenced rounds into the back of the assassin’s skull as the man went past. Nick’s.45 caliber rounds propelled the man face first onto the hardwood floor. Nick fired one more round into the man’s head, and retrieved the weapons he found on the body.

Knowing he had time now, Nick ran into the kitchen, pulled out a black plastic kitchen bag and duct tape from under the sink. He quickly returned to the body, slipped the bag over the dead man’s head, shoulders and chest. Nick duct taped the bag opening tightly around the body as he rolled the corpse over. He ran upstairs. After retrieving his satellite phone, Nick called the communication activation code and hung up while moving downstairs again. When the phone vibrated, Nick answered it.

“Hi honey.”

“Shit! Nick…don’t do anything hasty. It was out of my hands. We can -”

“Shut up, Frank,” Nick told him. “You should have nuked me from orbit asshole.”

“Let me talk to Jenson. I’ll…” Frank paused as he heard Nick chuckling.

“I’m too old for unarmed combat, Frank. It’s hard on the furniture, and it might have been Jenson talking to you now rather than your favorite novelist. Now, let’s get the mess cleaned up first so we can talk. Did you send that dickhead Morris with him?”

Silence.

“Good, he can handle Jenson. Have him come in noisy, pick up Jenson, and leave.”

“Christ, Nick, you and Jenson -”

“Yeah, Jenson and me chewed the same dirt once upon a time,” Nick cut him off. “On the other hand, I can’t stand the sight of Morris. If he even sneezes in my house, I’ll take my time and send him to you in pieces. Hurry up – I’ll hold.”

Fifteen minutes later, a hulking figure in black stamped through the rooms. He stooped next to Jenson’s body and shouldered the burden carefully. Backing out, Morris spoke as he scanned the darkened room, his night vision headset casting an eerie light.

“You’re lucky Jenson came in for you instead of me, Nick,” Morris’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“The only difference is Jenson would have had to drag your fat ass out, leaving marks on my hardwood floor.” Nick trained his USP-Tactical on Morris’s head from the adjoining room.

When Morris was out of the house, Nick moved to the front entrance, where he could see Morris loading the body into his car trunk. Nick brought the phone up.

“Obviously, you didn’t believe me about the overseas package I have stashed away.”

“I told them, Nick. They thought they could absorb it.”

“Tell you what, just to keep this in the family, I’ll send you a hint of what will come out. Check the bulletin board for a coded file in fifteen minutes. Call me when you get a look at it.”

Nick disconnected, went to his safe room downstairs, opened the safe there and brought out his notebook computer with satellite uplink. Minutes later, Nick uploaded a file. Twenty minutes after that, his satellite phone vibrated.

“Are you out of your God damned mind?” Frank shouted in a smiling Nick’s ear. “Where the hell -”

“Now you know how serious this is, Frank,” Nick interrupted. “Let’s keep our eye on the prize. Your friends don’t think they can absorb my enlightenment anymore, do they, buddy?”

“Small doubt about that, you prick. You better pray we don’t find out where your package is overseas.”

“Did I say I had only one? Sorry.”

“Shit!”

“I’ve had a lot of years ‘absorbing’ the way things work, Frank.”

“Call me when you have the flash drives. You have a blank check for now.”

“That’s the spirit. See ya’.” Nick ended the call and went to clean up the small mess he had made taking out Jenson.

The safe room door opened and a smiling Nick entered. Rachel, Jean, and Deke huddled together on the bed in Nick’s upstairs safe room. Deke’s body lay sprawled over his companions’ laps.

“Sorry about that. You three can come out now and go back to bed.”

“What happened, Nick?”

“Negotiations.”

Rachel smelled bacon and coffee. She walked down the stairs, breathing in the enticing aromas with relish. Sleep had come in fits of dozing nod-offs in between jerking upright at every sound. Rachel arrived at the stair landing and noticed the newly cleaned and freshly polished section of hard wood floor to her left. She skirted it carefully and continued into the kitchen. Nick, in black pajama bottoms, gray strapped t-shirt and slippers, stood at the stove watching a griddle. He smiled at her as she walked up next to him. Deke was already prone next to Nick’s feet.

“I bet you make killer pancakes.”

“Hardy har har.” Nick chuckled, looking surprised and impressed with her ad lib. “I have to watch these, so you can get your own coffee. With your vast expertise though, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble at all.”

“I’ll manage.” Rachel giggled, filling the cup already set out for her. “You didn’t say how well the negotiations went last night.”

“Very well, with only a few rough spots I’m sure are now worked out. After our walk to the beach, I’ll introduce you to the owner of my favorite café on the avenue. He’s always shorthanded, and the hours would be flexible.”

“I thought if I decided to stay it would be as the wife of a rich novelist,” Rachel replied, sitting down at the table.

“I’ve found over the years it’s best to make yourself appear handy and a hard worker. Projecting an image of wealth will usually draw attention we could do without. You don’t want your skills getting rusty, do you?”

“Surprisingly, I like waitressing. The majority of people I’ve met are real nice. I’ll talk to your friend about the job. If I get any difficult customers, I’ll have you kill them.”

Rachel felt relieved when Nick laughed in appreciation of her needling.

“Good one. Jean won’t be a problem either. We’ll get her into a school and I can help with dropping off and picking up. To make it all work we have to go real soon and pick up those flash drives. I’ve done business using Florida as a base of operations in the past. We’ll stay at a condo down in Sarasota I know about.”

“Will there be any more negotiations?”

“I don’t think so, but let’s not kid ourselves, there will always be tradeoffs, Rachel.”

“Does Jean have to be involved?”

“She’s a very big part of my anticipated cover. It’s not an ideal life for a kid, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative on your horizon with the US Marshalls. Give it six months. If it’s too much for either of us, I’ll set you up somewhere nice.”

“Sounds fair, but what in hell made you decide to do this? I mean, you could quit the Diego part of your life and keep making money writing.”

“Not to put a frown on your logical musings, but I believe you’re leaving out the psychopath part of my makeup. We don’t do well in retirement.”

“Oh…yeah, I…I did forget.” Rachel felt the hairs at the nape of her neck stand up. She watched the pajama clad Nick smiling as he made pancakes. “Do you think it possible you could care for me eventually?”

“I care for you already. Otherwise, I’d have dumped you at the first sign of complications,” Nick answered, meeting Rachel’s gaze. “It’s all new to me, which is sometimes a good thing. We psychos don’t like a lot of changes. We’re neat to a fault, precise in our language, good with kids and dogs, and we like our patterns. When I find something out of the ordinary I want, even with the changes in my patterns it brings, the positives usually outweigh the negatives.

“Like being an assassin?”

“I am an assassin. What I was referring to is my writing. It made an incredible diametrical enhancement in every aspect of my life. I had a persona and work I could talk about. I even do book signings.”

“We’re an experiment then?”

“Life is an experiment, full of choices. You have a choice now,” Nick stated plainly. He brought the covered dish full of pancakes to the table, along with a spouted serving cup with heated syrup. After taking the bacon out of the oven warmer, Nick called up to Jean, but didn’t get an answer.

“Well then for now I choose life.”

“I’ll try to keep your regrets at sixty/forty.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be relatively satisfied with your choice over half the time.” Nick grinned, pointing at Deke. “Deke, go get Jean.”

The dog streaked off upstairs, much to Rachel’s amazement. “I can’t get that damned dog to sit, let alone fetch.”

“Deke’s already made his choice.”

Rachel huddled into her coat, hunching her shoulders against the cold salty-tasting breeze blowing in from the ocean. Blue sky peeked out amidst the multi-grey colored clouds roiling across the sky. Nick had ordered his two charges to dress in practically winter clothing. Walking down 12
^th
Street and across Lighthouse Avenue toward the ocean, Rachel and Jean quickly understood why. Nick and Rachel sat on the two fold up beach chairs Nick had brought along, watching Jean and Deke explore the rock formations on Otter’s Point Beach. The ocean surface, unlike the strong breeze, was dead calm. The waves lapped gently at the rocks. Large kelp formations covered sections of the water offshore. Nick pointed out two otters zipping around amongst the thick, green leafy vines.

“Is it always this empty down here in the morning, Nick?”

“Yes, except on the weekends. I usually walk down around five-thirty in the morning on weekends. Weekdays, I seldom see anyone until nine out here, except a couple joggers.”

“Are you going to write me into your next book?” Rachel watched Jean poke into a tide pool while Deke romped around her, expecting something to be dislodged from the water.

Nick shook his head, snorting derisively.

“Why don’t I just surrender myself to the law while I’m at it? This writing gig is supposed to be a cover for us not an autobiography.”

“Don’t you write Diego’s adventures using your own hits as a template of sorts?”

Nick stared at Rachel as if she had sprouted a horn out of her forehead until Rachel started laughing.

“Okay, I’m stupid. Tell me why.”

“Think about it, Rachel. How many plots using real life hits would it take before someone saw a pattern? I thought you were an up and coming psycho. Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to be satisfied with simply being the decorous wife cover.”

“That’s so cute. You were going to train me to be a psycho like you.” It was Rachel’s turn to stare grimly at Nick. “Don’t law enforcement people figure out a connection when you arrive somewhere supposedly doing research and someone ends up dead? Forget I asked. This is where you say
I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you
.”

“Let’s just say I’m a bit more devious. When the mark arrives where needed, I’m staying on the same continent. You can cross many borders in a short space of time in Europe, especially when some very strong strings get pulled. Intel is the key, coupled with area familiarity. It helps if the mark won’t be missed by anyone important, and doesn’t get discovered until I’m far away. Having you and possibly Jean along, staying where I’m researching, will allay virtually all local suspicion.”

“Do you ever kill anyone in the US?”

“Tanus was my first here, and he wasn’t sanctioned. I’ve had business offshore though.”