Cold Blooded Assassin Book 6: Red Horizon (Nick McCarty Assassin) (29 page)

“You have a mask and cape, Sicko,” Rachel reminded him, aware of Nick’s penchant for steering a conversation by pretending moral and self-deprecating sensitivity. “I liked the ‘I’m an abomination’ touch – very dramatic.”

“When do you have to go, Dad?”

“Soon. Clint said they’re forming the last plans now depending on compound details from two men who lived there. The good news is it will not take long. Let’s drop all this talk of future actions. I need to write another five hundred words in ‘Blood Beach’.”

“You named it?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Rach.”

“I’m surprised but I like the title. It didn’t seem like this time you wanted a title yet. I love the story so far. Diego and Fatima have some chemistry going on in this one.”

“I like the title too, Sir,” Sonny said. “You said it takes place in the Caribbean where there are a lot of beaches for sure.”

“I think my title was better,” Jean said.

“Caribbean Genocide doesn’t fit the novel, Viper,” Nick replied. “Genocide means murdering all the people of a particular race or religion like the Arabs wish to do to the Jews in Israel.”

“Yeah but Diego murders all the bad guys,” Jean persisted. “He’s committing bad guy genocide.”

Rachel stifled laughter at Nick’s twisted look of frustration. “Bad guy genocide, huh? I have to admit I’ve been practicing the concept for quite a few years. The operation at the Pilot Hill compound will be one without mercy or quarter. So many terrorist activities from money laundering to infiltration and human trafficking pass through that place, I think of it as a blessing we stumbled on it in time. We may make jokes about places like Dearborn, but there’s no humor in it if we’re watching a horde of un-assimilating foreign infiltrators developing bases to wage war against America from within.”

Nick put his head in hands for a moment before leaning back in his chair with his familiar smile. “We live the Chinese curse of living in interesting times. Sometimes the lack of common sense, logic, and even self-preservation stuns me into temporary shock. The only cure lies in missions like Pilot Hill, where something can be done no one else can do.”

“Everything you get into, like at the school, sells another million novels in your Diego series,” Rachel offered. “Your notoriety as US Marshal Nick McCarty has fired sales far beyond being a recluse in Pacific Grove. When you acted as a sniper backup during serial killer Kensky’s capture, you were on the front page of every newspaper in the country. Severing his hand and foot off with two shots, coupled with your Delta Force training coming to light propelled you past your character Diego.”

“I love writing pulp and walking Deke down to the Point with all of you. As you mentioned, we’ll never need money. The book signings have been a source of entertainment I never expected. Adding in the real life stints I’ve allowed to seep into my public life are bound to cause us problems. I have a network of people around here from Carmel to Salinas who keep me informed when anything out of place shows up on the horizon.”

“Then it becomes a red horizon, complete with blood slicks,” Rachel quipped. “Speaking of book signings, are you planning to attend the one this coming weekend at ‘Pilgrim’s Way Books’? I would have thought you gunning down that guy in front of their shop also killed any chance of you being invited back. Apparently the news coverage of that event cemented an open invitation for you.”

“I admit I forgot all about the signing,” Nick replied. “This Pilot Hill hit takes priority over everything. The signing will be on Sunday. Pilot Hill may be over by then. Thanks for the reminder. I promised to do a ‘Dark Interlude’ talk coupled with some insights into the next Diego/Fatima paring in ‘Blood Beach’. It may have to be arranged after I go on my New York Kader hunt. Johnny is so funny. When he found out I made you mobi files to edit on your Kindle of my progress in the novel, he asked to have a file copy too so he could track the progress of his character Leo.”

“Uncle Johnny is so into his character, he keeps giving me plot ideas to pass on to you, Dad. I keep telling him it doesn’t work that way,” Jean said. “He keeps saying he understands but to mention them to you anyway. I think he wants to petition Leo into more novel parts than Gus’s character Jed.”

“Yep.” Nick began typing again. “I’m certain of that fact. Gus has sensed it too. Those two banter back and forth about their imaginary parts every time we’re together even though I haven’t written anything new with either character. I’m considering an offshoot novel on the side with Jed and Leo engaging in a boating adventure where they agree to sail a group of mobsters to the Caribbean.”

“Oh…my…God, those two will hound you into a coma writer’s block you’ll never emerge from,” Rachel said.

“Don’t tell them.”

“Telling Momster not to reveal a secret is the same as telling a monkey not to eat a banana,” Jean said, streaking for the door the moment Rachel twitched.

Rachel pointed at Jean. “You can run… but you can’t hide. There will be blood.”

“Mark my words, Dad. She’ll cloak the secret in little clothes and hats with smiles and grins. When Uncle Gus and Johnny don’t get the drift, she’ll blurt the whole thing out to them with that sigh of frustration she does.”

“I wish to remind you of something, Daughter of Darkness,” Rachel stated with calm assurance.

Jean giggled but Sonny perceived intent and stared down at his homework paper. “What would that be, Momster?”

“You didn’t take your phone or iPad with you to the escape route.” Rachel snatched both items from Jean’s side of the table faster than a cobra.

“No!” Jean rushed the table, only to confront the Momster in full parental mode. Jean smacked the snorting Sonny in the back of his head. “Why didn’t you cover me, Cracker? I can tell you figured out what she would do.”

Sonny straightened in his chair. “You’re on your own, Viper. I don’t take sides in McCarty parental authority disputes. I have immunity as long as I maintain neutrality, right Nick?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

Nick drove into the Salvatore’s driveway the next morning. Sonny ran out the door. Inside of a second, he was sitting next to Jean in the backseat. Deke looked at him curiously from between the two kids. Gus sat next to Nick in the passenger seat.

“My Dad’s coming out to talk with you, Nick,” Sonny told him. “He and Mom are upset about the school episode. It didn’t matter how many times I explained in detail what happened, he suspects there’s more to it.”

Nick shrugged. “There is. We’re early. No big deal.”

Nick walked to the door after shutting the car engine off. Phil Salvatore opened the door as Nick approached. Clarice waited just beyond the entrance, arms folded in her usual annoyed stance whenever Nick visited. Nick walked through the door with a smile and wave.

“Good morning. Sonny said you needed to talk with me.”

“I called a school board member I know,” Clarice said. “She told me Florence Nazari quit her job teaching at the school and won’t be back.”

“Well… there’s some news to brighten my morning,” Nick replied. “She never should have been given a teaching position there in the first place. She’s an idiot. My dog Deke has more common sense than she has. Thanks for the update. I’ll bring Sonny back after the kids do their homework.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Clarice flashed Nick her openmouthed, arm dropping stare of incredulity - a pose, Nick knew, would have earned her a bitch slapping, or stun-gunned, if Rachel had been with him.

“What more is there to say? Her husband and his friends tried to kidnap Jean in broad daylight. The authorities have all of them in custody.”

“Florence was trying to introduce another perspective to the kids at school. She was an amazing teacher with fortitude.” Clarice created an alternate reality on the fly without hesitation.

“You’re good, Clarice,” Nick replied. “You should write fiction. Flo tried to brainwash the kids about the death cult. That’s about the only thing she was good for.”

Phil and Clarice both gasped. “Death cult? Really, Nick? Those words offend. Islam is just like any other religion.”

“No… it’s not. If you’re that damn ignorant about the world, Phil, just keep your mouth shut. If all you wanted to do was talk at me about the blessings of Islam and their poor misunderstood murderous horde, save it for one of your other politically correct nitwits. You can all drink the Islamist Kool-Aid together. You do understand you’re coming to the defense of people who threatened Jean’s life, right?”

“Sometimes Jean doesn’t know her place. She-” Phil grabbed Clarice to quiet her, seeing cold blooded killer surface in Nick’s face.

“Don’t say anymore, Clarice.”

“I’d advise you two useful idiots to not speak until your survival instinct kicks in. What’s this all about? I know it can’t be only because Clarice needed to spew her self-righteous phony crap at me.”

Phil cleared his throat. “We…we’re worried maybe this latest episode of yours will put Sonny in danger.”

“From whom… peaceful Islam?”

“It’s not a joke,” Clarice replied with fists clenched. “Those people are dangerous. You’ve seen what they do overseas to people who cross them.”

Nick chuckled. “I see now. You two aren’t worried about the politically correct garbage. You’re worried maybe the innocent and peaceful Muslims might think about turning their attention on you two. Don’t. Call me if you see anything out of whack. I’ll take care of it. Phil can tell you from experience what happens when you cross my path with violence in your heart. The school problem is solved. No one will be screwing around with either of you over that. I have to get the kids to school. Why don’t you go and actually show up for work at the Passport Office you’re supposed to be in charge of, Phil. It’ll give you something to do. I don’t care what you do, Clarice. Just do it quietly. See ya’.”

The Salvatores kept their mouths shut as Nick exited their house, which convinced Nick they weren’t completely brain dead.
At some point we will have to adopt Sonny or make him an orphan
. In the car, Gus was doing Phil impersonations which had the kids laughing and staring at him in disbelief. Nick had already been treated to Gus’s hidden talent of mimicry. He had done Johnny in front of Cala to the point she cried real tears and begged him to stop.

“I see the Gusster has revealed his new bag of tricks.”

“He…he is scary good! If I close my eyes, I’d think my Dad was in the car,” Sonny said. The boy turned solemn. “How did it go, Sir?”

“Very well. We had a nice chat in alternate reality land,” Nick replied while getting the car headed to the school. “I believe I calmed their fears, kid.”

Nick’s phone rang in the cup holder where he stuck it whenever he drove. It played the theme from the old ‘Dragnet’ TV show. “It’s Neil. Can you get that, Gus?”

* * *

Gus, amused by Sergeant Neil Dickerson’s theme song, answered on the third repetition of ‘Dum da dum dum’. “It’s Gus, Neil. Nick’s driving the kids to school. He’s right beside me.”

“Can the kids hear me if you put me on speaker?”

“Yes.” Gus straightened, holding the phone closer. “Give it to me straight. I’m listening.”

“I…I have a hostage situation. A call went out to report a domestic abuse with kids on scene at Fisherman’s Wharf in Monterey. They put out a distress call for help. My new partner, a rookie name Cheryl Rossdale, drove there because she was close to the Wharf. She’s a hot dog, Gus. She’s been keeping me apprised as I’m answering the call. They put her on crowd control. Two perps… one of them the husband… the other a friend, moved on the husband’s wife and two kids while they walked along the wharf area. They’ve retreated to the buildings at the back of the Wharf near ‘The Big Fish Grill’. The Monterey police have the area secured, but the perps are armed with automatic weapons. They have the wife and kids with bystanders ordered to the pavement in front of the restaurant. The negotiators are busily talking them down by cell phone. Cheryl’s listening to everything. She believes they’re going to kill the wife and kids along with bystanders. They’re getting angrier by the minute because the idiots of course want guarantees of safe passage and no charges.”

“Muerto and I have done some business on the Wharf. I think I know an approach. If I can get into position we’ll need cover for taking the shot.”

“This is bad, Gus. I have no dog in this hunt other than my hot dog partner. They didn’t retreat into a building which set off my alarm bells. They’re staying within cover between the buildings on the left side of the restaurant as you face it from the Wharf area. Cheryl says they fire a burst every few minutes to keep their hostages in place.”

“On it. Stay tuned.” Gus waved a very interested Nick down. “Let’s get the kids dropped off, Muerto. I’ll call Johnny and tell him to meet us at the ‘Lucky Lady’ dock. We have to take this one.”

Nick drove without comment, watching with amusement as Jean and Sonny built their own scenarios from the one sided call they could hear. When they reached the school, Nick walked the kids to the door, exchanging pleasantries with his parental squad of ex-military dropping their kids off. He maintained a smiling persona while plotting through his own speculation about what crisis project at the Monterey Fisherman’s Wharf area meant in terms of action. Jean voiced with frustration what she perceived from the call.