Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) (24 page)

“Fuck no! Dalman runs retail for my chain. The guy’s never even been in the warehouse. I was only thinking of having him and his wife go along with the cargo to Europe because of the Banning fiasco. You know damn well Banning didn’t croak himself, but I couldn’t take the chance of sending someone knowledgeable about our entire operation to Europe. Dalman and his wife were perfect patsies. If the shipment had been hit overseas, I could have dumped on the Dalmans, and bribed my shipment free. We have to find the leak. I’ll take a major hit on this as it is! I don’t care what we have to do.”

“Do you want me to go back after we drop you off? I’ll start at the very beginning, tracing every step, and every person who touches the product or loads it for transport.”

“I’ll be fine at the estate. No one knows I even own it. You and Santos go back together. I like your idea. No phone calls, not even a burner phone. They’ll be watching everything: every phone line, warehouse, and residence. If you have anything to report, do it in person.”

“I will, boss,” Craig agreed, as Santos steered to the front entrance down Huxley’s winding entrance drive. Santos shut off the car. “We’ll be back to report in a-”

The 7.62 high velocity Nato round crinkled the safety glass, passed through Craig’s head, Santos’s driver’s seat, and into the driver’s chest area. The next five rounds pierced Santos in a tight pattern, sending the rest of the rear glass plummeting in small pieces everywhere over the seat. His body danced at each hit, tossing him against the steering wheel. Huxley dived down into the blood pooling quickly under Craig’s head. He pulled his own 9mm S&W automatic with a shaking hand. He had sent enough pros on jobs to know a contract hit.

Huxley crawled in a turning motion, carefully keeping his head down while facing rearward. He took a split second to see over the rear seat, trying to determine if anyone was approaching or determine where the bullets originated. His second quick glance earned another 7.62 round, which clipped the top part of Huxley’s left ear off. He screamed out in pain, dropping his pistol, and clutching the side of his head with both hands. Blood seeped between his fingers, as he looked around in wild panic for his S&W auto. Before he could find it, his door opened. He looked into the face grinning down at him in terror. Huxley knew death when he stared it in the eye.

* * *

“Damn, Nick… you took his ear off!” Gus had been reading off data after making it plain to Nick as the BMW wound toward them which position Huxley occupied in the car. His partner’s shots after the driver shut off the BMW gave Gus the immediate impression Nick was not firing wildly into the car. The first shot killed the rear passenger, and went through the seat, paralyzing the driver for a moment. The following shots worked both to kill the driver, and send a message to Huxley.

Nick dropped his unconscious puppet he had been positioned over, and broke cover at a dead run. “Pack our gear, Payaso. Watch sunny-boy for me. I have to collect a prisoner.”

“Oh boy,” Gus muttered to no one in particular. The moment they realized a car had entered the long drive to Huxley’s estate, Gus brought Paul on line with them while spotting for Nick. “You get that, Paul?”

“I sure did,” Gilbrech acknowledged. “He is impressive, and driven. I didn’t say a word about leaving Huxley alive. Nick seems to intuitively know when to keep digging no matter what the danger or the situation. I’m damn glad you two didn’t blunder into an interception team’s trap. I was only guessing at the leak. It looks like my suspicions were unfortunately true. I’ll let you in on something, Gus. The powers that be, supplying the money on these excursions you guys have happened into on this tour, want to write you boys an unlimited budget. When a hint of Isis is involved, they want Muerto and Payaso involved. It’s a new day in the neighborhood where these Islamo nut-cakes are involved. Tell Nick if he gets anything out of Huxley, send it to me, and you guys go about your business. I don’t really want you two involved in DEA stuff. My contact is untouchable. I will get anything Nick finds to him. I’m not stupid. I leave final decisions to your partner.”

“Always a wise decision as I’ve found out numerous times in the past. I need to work. Hang in with us, and Muerto will go over the line as usual.”

“I can hear you, Payaso,” Nick reminded Gus as he reached to open the BMW rear door.

“I’m bored. I’m cold. I’m wet. When you finish with Huxley, put a shot in my head too.”

Gus listened to both Paul and Nick enjoying his adlib as he plastic tied their scapegoat shooter. He grinned.
Payaso strikes again
!

* * *

Nick watched through the door window as Huxley flailed around in the passenger rear compartment, trying to staunch the blood flow from his mangled ear while searching for what Nick figured to be his gun. He opened the back door. “Hi, sweetie. I’m the angel of death. The only choices from here are how you wish to journey into the afterlife. I have door number one where you cooperate fully, and you get the painless angel. I have door number two where you don’t cooperate, and you get the full Monte – pissed off angel of death. Be careful what door you choose here, David. By the way, I have confirmation in an instant, so if you’re thinking lying will buy you time, that ain’t happenin’, pal.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Huxley tried to resist as Nick dragged him out of the car by his nose to no avail.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy. Your operation has cost countless lives I’m sure, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m not much into anything touchy-feely. I see you as having information to save many innocent lives. Let’s help each other. I’ll help you by not torturing you beyond your wildest imaginings, and you in return help me by informing on your whole organization. I hate negotiations, so you have sixty seconds to agree to help. If you don’t, I begin introducing you to hell on earth before I introduce you to the real thing.”

“You’re kidding! I can make you rich beyond imagining. We can cut a deal!”

“Forty-five seconds, bunky,” Nick said, looking at his watch.

“You can’t be serious.” Huxley knew the truth though. This man would do unspeakable things to him no matter what he said or did. Huxley also knew he could give pain, but he could not take it.

“Twenty seconds.”

“You haven’t even restrained me.”

“That’s because you haven’t yet stopped holding your injured ear with both hands,” Nick pointed out. “Not to mention if you tried something with those hands I would break them off at your shoulder. Ten seconds, bunky.”

“You know what… Fuck you!” Huxley gave Nick the finger with one middle bloody digit. Nick broke it, then kicked Huxley square in the groin.

“Told you. I’ll give you two more minutes, because sometimes lessons take time to sink in,” Nick warned, shaking his head in silent disappointment. At the end of two minutes Nick moved to kick Huxley in the groin again. His intentions were begged off by a squealing Huxley, his uninjured hand clutching his injured groin, and bloody hand with broken finger held up pleadingly.

“Don’t… I’ll talk… I’ll talk!”

With Gilbrech on the line, Nick took Huxley through the details of his operation, including names, places, contacts overseas, and the supplier shipping the drugs for distribution by Huxley. Once crosschecking of information Banning had given him was completed in comparison to Huxley’s, Nick restrained him with plastic ties.

“Last thing. I’m going into your house. I see you have an entry panel. Give me your security code. Also, I’ll want the location of any safes inside and the combination or security code for them. I’m very good at finding hidden things. If there are any special hidey holes you’ve neglected to tell me about, I’ll introduce you to my special electric shock treatment to your balls. It works the opposite of electroshock therapy. After my treatment, people remember things from their lives they hadn’t thought of in years. Tell me all about your house.”

Huxley did so without hesitation, including codes for the safe room built inside the house where both the safe, and his computer storage backup were kept.

“Very good, Dave,” Nick said. “Maybe you’ll be able to start your next journey pain free. I’ll return as soon as possible.”

Nick entered Huxley’s house, checking video with Gus and Paul. Once video clarity was established, Nick searched the estate with care learned from past experience. He found the safe-room to be the only hidden and sealed area in the dwelling. The security panel opened the room after Nick located the release for the bookcase covering the entrance. Upon opening the safe, Nick started laughing.

“Jackpot, boys. This is better than winning a lottery. I guess we’ll have to initiate an offshore account for Paul too, Payaso.” A gold coin collection, prominently displayed at the safe’s side, shared a spot with stacks of cash. A laptop computer, and a small case housing sixteen gigabyte memory chips stored in small plastic cases shared the safe’s other side.

“I… uh… already have an offshore account,” Paul admitted, eliciting amused responses from his two networked companions.

“You dog, you,” Nick said. “Payaso and I will find a way to pad it for you once we arrive home. I’m afraid we’ll be confiscating this beautiful gold coin collection though.”

“Thanks, Nick. As you know, in this business, it’s nice to have a trapdoor into another life. Trapdoors are expensive.”

“Amen to that, brother Paul. I don’t think you’ll have to send a team to clean the place. I’ll pack it out, and you can send a courier to get the laptop and memory chips. Once I finish with the scene outside, Payaso and I will leave it all in place to be found at a later date by some innocent or not so innocent party. How goes your scramble with the Schilling name?”

“In custody, and calling for lawyers, witness protection, whistle blower witch hunt protection, and demands to be taken before Congress to testify. Instead, Ken will be going to a special place overseas where we will have our own rendition. I wish I could drop him off with you, but I have a couple guys with him who will get the job done. I’ll turn everything else you’ve found at Huxley’s place over to the DEA after I have everything cloned for our own records. Outstanding work, gentlemen. If anything troublesome happens, call me. I will intercept any authorities sticking their noses into your lives instantly.”

“Thanks, Paul. We’ll be in touch.”

Nick filled his pack with Huxley’s safe contents, closed the safe, and resealed the safe-room with its bookcase cover in place. He set the security system on before rejoining the groaning Huxley, rolling painfully side to side. Nick helped him to sit against the open rear car door. He then injected Huxley with enough from his syringe to render the man unconscious.

“Do I have a clear shot, Payaso?”

Gus, who had been watching everything from where he stood over the wounded shooter, crouched to where Nick had made the initial shots from. “Clear view of Huxley where you have him positioned.”

“Good.” Nick shouldered his pack. It took only moments for him to reach his sniping roost. He set aside the pack for the time being. After positioning the unconscious original interception team member with the M110 rifle in place, Nick lay over him, put the man’s finger on the trigger, and aimed at Huxley’s head. “Now don’t jerk the trigger this time you rascal. We don’t want to be here all day while you miss the target.”

Nick squeezed off the round, striking Huxley between the eyes. Nick clapped the man on the shoulder. “Excellent shot! That’ll teach him. Our work here is done, Payaso.”

Nick injected the interception team member with a little more from his syringe. He rearranged him in a sniper’s prone position with hands correctly on the M110. “Let’s go take the final shot, Payaso.”

“With what? I thought you weren’t using your rifle for this.”

“I’m going to have the first sniper I killed shoot this one with his handgun. I noticed he has a holstered .45 caliber ACP.”

“Bullshit! That’s a hundred yard shot.”

“Are you going to insult me or are you going to help me carry our stash to the other nest?” Nick didn’t wait for a reply. He led the way with Gus following while shaking his head.

At the interception team’s nest, Nick arranged the corpse in a prone position with the dead man’s hand on the .45 caliber ACP automatic. Nick slowly covered the man with his own body, angling for a shot with Gus spotting. He pulled the trigger with slow pressure.

“Nice. You hit him in the back,” Gus said.

“Okay, asshole,” Nick said to the corpse, shaking him a little, while taking aim again. “You were off low that time. Do it again.”

The next shot struck the man in the head. Gus kicked Nick’s foot. “You are one scary individual. Want me to check the body?”

“Definitely,” Nick replied. “No loose ends or possible loose ends. I’ll put a couple of final touches on this exceptional crime mystery. We have a lot of Sunday left, partner. Maybe we should go see one of those 3D Imax movies.”

Gus kept the conversation going on their link while jogging toward the man Nick had just shot. “After spending all night with you in the rain, the only thing I want is a dry spot with a good view, and a bottle of Bushmill’s Irish at my side.”

“Or we could do that,” Nick said. “You know how women are though. They’ll want to go out, and we’ll say we have headaches, and they’ll say if you ever want to get romantic again get ready to take us to a movie.”