Read Wet Work - A Greg Kelton Short Story Online

Authors: Brian Springer

Tags: #suspense, #murder, #thriller, #vigilante, #crime, #hardboiled, #brian springer, #justice, #assassination, #kelton, #wet work, #vigilant

Wet Work - A Greg Kelton Short Story (3 page)

BOOK: Wet Work - A Greg Kelton Short Story
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That’s not why my contact wants him
dead.”

Heather scoffed. “Yeah right.”


No, really,” Kelton said. “He just
doesn’t think this guy’s debt to society should get wiped away
because he turned in some of his fellow cronies.”


Is that what he told you?”

Kelton nodded.


And you bought that crap?” she
said.


There’s nothing to buy,” Kelton said.
“It was the truth.”


Says who? Him?”


Says me.”


Whatever,” she said. “It doesn’t
matter to me anyway. Tell yourself whatever you need to if it makes
you sleep better at night. Me, I don’t have any morals, so long as
the money is right.”


Then quit pestering me about it,”
Kelton said.


Fine,” Heather said. “It’s done. So
how did your contact claim to come by this information? Witness
Protection stuff is protected at the highest levels. Even I can’t
get into it.”


He didn’t offer any specifics and I
didn’t ask.”


But you’re sure it’s
legit?”


Nope,” Kelton said. “I have no clue.
That’s why I brought it to you, to find out if he’s telling the
truth or just blowing steam up my ass.”


What’s your gut tell you?”


That he’s legit.”


Why?”


Because he didn’t pause for a second
when I told him I was going to check up on everything he gave me,”
Kelton said. “In fact, he encouraged me to do it. Which makes me
believe that he knows it’s legit.”

Heather nodded her head. Whether she was
agreeing with him or just acknowledging what he said was unclear.
Not that it mattered to Kelton.


So you’ll check it out for me?”
Kelton said.


My pleasure,” she said.


The normal fee?”


Sure,” Heather said. Smiling wryly,
she added, “Or we can take it out in trade if you
prefer.”


Cash is fine,” Kelton
said.

Heather shrugged. “Your loss.” She turned
and stuck the zip drive into her laptop.


How long is this going to take?”
Kelton said.


Why, is there somewhere you have to
be?”


No.”


Then just sit tight,” Heather said.
“Let me take a quick peek and see what exactly is on here. It could
take a few minutes, it could take a whole day.”

She sat at the desk and started clacking
away at the keys. Kelton took a seat on the couch and tried to look
for flaws in the plan he’d mapped out to take out his target if he
turned out to truly be who Walter said he was. Once again, he
couldn’t find any. The job was a simple one with no real headaches,
save for the potential backlash. But if he handled things the way
he was supposed to (and he always did) then the backlash wouldn’t
touch him. The nuts and bolts of the operation were clean. In and
out without any serious roadblocks. As it was with most of these
kinds of operations.

Contrary to popular belief, once you decided
that you were going to kill someone, actually following through
with it was usually relatively simple. Especially if you’d done it
a few times before. Which Kelton had. Buck fever was an issue for
some, but it was a one-time thing. Either you seized up the first
time you’re in the situation or not at all. And those who do seize
up the first time rarely get a second chance to do so.

It was all a matter of willpower, really.
And smarts. Both of which Kelton had in abundance.


Interesting,” Heather said,
interrupting Kelton’s thoughts.


What is?”


Come look,” she said.

Kelton stood up and walked over. He stood
over her shoulder and looked at the computer screen. There were two
pictures up, one on each side of the screen. Driver’s Licenses, one
from New Jersey and the other from California.

Jersey was on the left, and the picture was
of a man in his mid-twenties, with a long mane of black hair, a
freshly-shaved, non-wrinkled face, pale skin and blue eyes that
shone with naked hatred. The name on the license said John
Destrado.

The name of the man on the California
license was Mike Wilson. The picture was of a man in his mid to
late fifties. The hair had gone gray and it was significantly
shorter. The man had a full beard, bags under his eyes,
wrinkle-lines everywhere and heavily tanned skin. But it was the
same man. The proof was in the eyes. The hatred was still there,
only now is was deeper, darker, turned inward.


So what do you think?” Heather said.
“Same guy?”


Without a doubt,” Kelton said. “Is
there more stuff on there?”


Only a couple more gigs of
information,” Heather said.


Is that a lot?”

Heather laughed and shook her head. “One day
you really have to come join us in the twenty-first century,
Kelton. Yes. It’s a lot. So I’d suggest you grab a chair. This
might take a little while.”

They spent the next hour going through the
files. Federal depositions, grand jury testimonies, even
communications between individual federal agents. They started with
detailed readings but quickly realized that most of the files were
just different forms of conveying the same information. So they
ended up skimming everything, but even a cursory read gave Kelton
more than enough information to know beyond a shadow of a doubt
that the old man had been telling him the truth.

And a nasty truth it was. According to the
information collected on this zip drive, Destrado was responsible
for 73 murders, the vast majority of which were ordered up by the
people he’d sent to prison as a result of the deal he made with the
feds. Most were just straight up hits, a simple gunshot or two in
the head. But some were designed to send a message. Torture. Sexual
assault. Decapitations. Sometimes worse.


A real piece of shit, this Destrado,”
Heather said after they’d finished reading.


That’s putting it lightly,” Kelton
replied.


But the feds still cut a deal with
him.”


Anything to get the big
boys.”


Even it means letting multiple
murders walk the streets,” Heather said, disgusted. “It’s just not
right. This guy could be my next door neighbor.”


It happens all the time.”


I know. But that doesn’t mean I have
to like it.”


Don’t worry,” Kelton said. “I’ll make
sure he gets what he deserves.”


I know you will.”


Now I just need to figure out how to
get into his house.”


Piece of cake,” Heather said as she
started clacking away at the keys. The menu came up again. She
moved the arrow to a file labeled “personal information” and
clicked on it. Everything Kelton needed to know about Destrado’s
current residence popped onto the screen.


This Walter guy sure is prepared,”
Kelton said.


You can say that again.”

Kelton opened his mouth to do just that but
Heather cut him off before he could say anything.


Don’t even think about it,” she
said.

He smiled and closed his mouth.


What I don’t get is why he came to
you,” Heather said. “With the quality of information he’s
collected, he could have taken this job to anyone and got it done
without a problem. Why go to a stranger? And why pay so much to do
it?”


I was wondering the same thing
myself,” Kelton said.


I mean, it seems a little fishy,
don’t you think?”


A bit,” Kelton said. “But why look a
gift horse in the mouth?”


Because if you don’t he might bite
you with it when you’re not looking,” Heather said.


Good point. I’ll make sure to ask him
when this thing is all over.”


You do that,” Heather said. “And
don’t forget to tell me what he says.”

He offered her a little smile. “If I can
remember.”


Har-dee-har,” Heather said. She was
well aware of his near photographic memory. It was just one of the
many things she’d managed to find out about him over the years
despite his unwillingness to talk. She was a wily one, that Heather
Dutrun. Which is why Kelton continued coming back to her for
information despite the grief she always gave him.


So when are you going to do this
thing?” she asked.


No time like the present,” he
said.


Tonight? Just like that?”


Why not?” Kelton said. “Don’t get me
wrong, I’ll scope it out for a bit, but if all looks well, I’ll
take care of it tonight. Get it over with.”

Heather eyed him for a moment. “You just
don’t give a shit about anything, do you?”


Not really,” he said.
Not anymore,
he could have added but
didn’t.


Well, then I wish you luck,” she
said.


Thanks, but I don’t need it,” he
replied.

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re a
real piece of work, Kelton, you know that, right?”

He flashed her a wink then turned and headed
towards the door.


Are you sure you don’t want a quickie
for the road?” Heather called to him mockingly as he walked away.
“This might be your last chance.”

Kelton didn’t even bother answering her.
There was no use. No matter what he said she was just use it
against him. Better to just keep his mouth shut and move on. It was
time to do some business.

 

 

4

Kelton spent a couple hours watching
Destrado’s decrepit two-bedroom house from his car before deciding
to make his move. So far the information on the zip drive had been
spot on. There was no reason to assume it wouldn’t continue to be
so. Might as well get things over with.

It was nearly 4AM in the quiet residential
area where Destrado lived. So quiet that Kelton hadn’t seen a
single car drive past nor a solitary light turn on in the previous
two hours. But just to be certain, he glanced one more time at his
surroundings to make sure all was still quiet. It was.

He double-checked to make sure the dome
light was off, then stepped out of his car and softly closed the
door behind him. He made his way around to the side of the house
and hopped the fence into Destrado’s backyard. Kelton paused
crouching in the grass for a moment, hand gripping his gun,
listening and watching intently for any hint of movement from
inside the house. After a full minute, he began moving towards the
back door.

Once at the door he used the full moon as
his light to read the name imprinted into the lock. Masterlock
2000, just as Walter’s information had said. Score another point
for the old man.

Kelton pulled a set of lock-picking tools
from his back pocket and picked the lock in ten seconds flat.
Easiest thing in the world if you had any practice at it. And
Kelton had.

He quietly opened the door, slipped in, and
closed it behind him. Then he carefully picked his way into
Destrado’s bedroom. Time to take care of business.

Destrado was sleeping peacefully in his bed
when Kelton pressed the cold steel barrel of his silenced .38
caliber SigPro against the side of the older man’s nose.

John’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at
Kelton as though he went to bed every night fully expecting to be
woken up in the middle of the night by a stranger placing a gun
against his nose.


Don’t say a word,” Kelton said. “Nod
once if you understand.”

John nodded once.

Kelton relaxed on the pressure a hair but
left the barrel pressing up against John’s right eye. “Now, let’s
get something straight right up front. Nothing you can say will get
you out of this, so I don’t want to hear you begging for mercy or
anything stupid like that. Understand?”

Again John nodded. His eyes were pale and
faded. There was no life left in them. He may have been a stone
cold killer in his younger days but now he just looked like a tired
old man, waiting to die.


So this is how we’re going to
proceed,” Kelton said in conversational tones. “I’m going to back
off and give you a little space. But that doesn’t mean you have the
freedom to do as you wish. Don’t make any noise that can be heard
outside of this room, or make any quick moves unless you want to
get shot in the kneecap. You ever been shot in the
kneecap?”


Once.”


Then you know how it feels,” Kelton
said. “And I assume you’re smart enough to want to avoid that
particular pain again.”


You got that right,” John said. His
speech and mannerisms said he was fully resigned to his fate. Had
been for quite some time as far as Kelton could tell. He almost
felt sorry for the old man.


But as long as you don’t do anything
stupid, you won’t have to worry about feeling any pain,” Kelton
said. “So don’t do anything stupid.”


Got it.”

Kelton threw the covers off John, revealing
the older man’s hairy body and allowing him to see John’s hands. He
was sleeping in boxers and a white T-shirt. His ample gut was
hanging out of his shirt.

BOOK: Wet Work - A Greg Kelton Short Story
6.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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