Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (16 page)

“If you could let us know who the shooter is in the neighbor’s yard when they discover the body, I’d appreciate it. We have the driver.”

“Understood,” Earl said. “What do you think this is, John? We’ll of course keep an eye on the school.”

“When we interrogate the driver, I’ll text you everything we find out, but right now I’m figuring it’s the 38
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Locos under their new management, Cory Davar. Once we confirm, I’m afraid we’ll be taking it from there, so there may not be any actual police duties to perform. We wanted to do this without a war, but unless we get the Locos in line, we’re going to have one. I can tell you this: it will be a short one for the Locos.”

“The neighbor should be reporting the body soon, but we haven’t heard anything yet. We’ll text you the moment we know about the details using the throwaway phone you gave me. What about noise factor,” ‘Rique asked.

“All silenced rounds, so not much. I’ll be in touch, guys. Thanks.”

* * *

The news traveled fast. The gang was all there when I arrived at Pain Central, except for Jess and Dev who would be with Lora. Jafar was with Samira and the baby, of course. I saw Laredo’s laptop open with Jafar moving around in the background. The main monsters meeting began the moment I walked to the table. I saw Lynn had brought Dannie and Amara to look after Clint Jr. They were in the receiving area nearby.

“We were only waiting for you to start on your former trunk occupant,” Lynn said. “He’s prepped in the interrogation room. The boys knew time was of the essence so he’s ready after they showed him movie time. He already told us Davar sent them. Davar hired a Bulgarian hit man named Ivar Cvetkov. He was the one you shot. No one is home at the neighbor’s house. We checked the address you texted to us. They’re on vacation if you’d like us to tell Earl and ‘Rique to stop by as part of checking a vacant house.”

“I’ll leave that call to you, John,” Denny said. “You know the neighborhood. Could we make a pickup on the body without drawing attention?

“I’ll go tonight after we take care of some business. It puts us a bit behind on the others in holding, but we don’t have much choice. Let’s go find out where we hit right now.”

“We’re hooked into the driver, Ron Leick’s phone. He’s getting calls from Davar,” Denny said. “Laredo and Achmed triangulated the signal. We don’t know if it’s him or one of his lieutenants.”

“Let’s go hardcore Ron, and find out all the places his little friends hang out. I’m a bit more into making the Locos extinct, but it would alienate the jerks looking the other way while we do Oaktown Cartel business. We have to make a statement though, so I guess we have no choice but to hit the bricks on a Locos mission. First snipers, and then come the bombs.”

“That’s what we wanted to hear!” Lynn slammed the table, before spinning to walk toward the interrogation room. “Oh Ron, I have some more truth or consequences questions to ask.”

I heard the scream before Lynn even arrived at the room.

* * *

The 38
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Locos decided it was a great time to lock down, and where Ron said they locked down at was an old two story on the corner of 38
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Street and Shafter Avenue. We rolled the moment Ron told us Davar was there, and the address synched with Laredo and Jafar’s triangulation of the call. We arrived with Laredo driving, and the rest of us in full armor with masks in place, ready to rock. We aren’t police. I tore out of our van at full speed with Clint, Casey, and Lynn on my tail. Denny and Lucas covered the rear, while Laredo watched the street. I bashed the front door down, and kept right on going. We shot anything with a weapon or a bandanna. They reached for weapons on the bottom floor, but died before using them. Casey let Denny and Lucas in the back. They secured the downstairs while we went on.

Clint and I threw flash-bangs into the second floor. They went off impressively, with screams echoing down to our ears. I led the charge upstairs, taking a short burst from an AK47 in the chest. I went down, but Clint blew the gunman’s head off with two .45 caliber hollow points. I had my double vest on so I scrambled to my feet. We went room to room from there. The concussion from our flash-bangs slowed the response from everyone but the AK47 user. Whether we killed the innocent or not would have to wait for DNA, fingerprint, and face photos of the dead which Lucas and Denny were in the process of downstairs. Lynn found our boy Davar in the last room on the right with Clint backing her entry, they fired bursts into two others only then trying to raise weapons. Davar was hiding in the closet.

By then, Casey and I were in the room with them. Davar threw his weapon on the floor, and raised his hands. The sullen look on his face made Lynn smile. We knew him very well by then. Laredo and Jafar had turned his life inside out already. We certainly recognized him from the photo files our guys found. He would not be sending snipers or even a note to his mama once we escorted him to Pain Central.

“Hey Cheese,” Lynn said. “It looks like we have ourselves a tough guy, right Cory?”

“You don’t know how tough, bitch!” Then Cory spat on the floor.

Uh oh. Everyone in the room was chuckling at Cory’s action except Lynn. As she reminded us, she’s getting awfully tired of bad guys spitting on the floor.

“Cheese,” Lynn said, pointing at the floor. “Clean that up. We have to get going.”

Clint took my MP5, grinning from ear to ear. I walked over, yanked Cory off the floor, spun him, and slammed him face first with arms trying to shield his descent to no avail. I mopped his spit away with Cory’s face before pitching him into the wall. Casey restrained him with a plastic tie. We’d have to bag his face or Lucas would complain about getting the ready van bloody. On the positive side, the sullen look had disappeared, and Lynn was smiling.

* * *

Because of our work load, when we returned to Pain Central, Lynn went right to work on Cory. We needed a few pieces of information before Cory Davar went on his Bay Cruise in the morning. Yes, I thought of trying to avoid the poke and hook show tomorrow by whining about my bullet wound, but decided against it. I’d be the target of derision for the day, and I’d still be in the Great Banana suit in the morning, so what’s the use? I did pop some aspirin since nearly having my head blown off though.

Lynn had become infatuated with her interrogation invention using the eyedropper with a mix of water and sulfuric acid. She claimed to have the proportions of ingredients at a perfect mixture of pure unadulterated agony. Seeing as Lynn was the proven expert on such matters, I had no doubt about her claim. Clint and I were her helpers. We didn’t have time for the torture movie shows. Lynn would have to prepare for the coming bank robber apprehension and transfer movie with the Hollywood Bounty Hunters. The script was still in the processing phase. We didn’t want to involve the FBI in the form of Reeves and Labrie before we prepped Bonnie and Clyde for their screen appearances.

Strapped to our interrogation gurney, Cory wheezed uncomfortably, his broken face a source of agony for the poor man. Oh, we were all very concerned because he was suffering. Then came the reason we remained silent since coming into the room. We knew it would only take a few moments for Cory to fulfil our expectations.

“I want my lawyer… right now!”

Man, did we enjoy that one. It just never gets old. You figure after being ordered so often to supply legal help by soon to be dead people, we monsters would get used to it, but such was not the case. Lynn, still controlling her enjoyment of our favorite one liner, stroked Cory’s cheek.

“Well aren’t you just the most precious thing? Would you like just the phone call, or should we take you to him?”

“Take me to him! I will own your murdering asses! You executed innocent people.”

More laughter. Lynn sighed.

“Okay, fun and games are over. Want to take the easy way out, and simply tell us how you became the 38
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Street Locos leader as an ice breaker. Your name isn’t a giveaway. It sounds European. Is it just a fake? The Locos have never had anyone but a Latino in the lead. You look dusky, but I can’t place your origin. Want to help without pain?”

Then we got our second laugher.

“You can’t torture me!”

“That’s what I figured,” Lynn replied. “Get him into position boys. It’s time for the Mistress of the Unimaginable to do her delicate work. I haven’t checked my favorite minions handiwork electrifying the bunks in holding. God bless those three. They are the most entertaining and imaginative little helpers anyone could ever ask for.”

Clint and I flipped him to his side, clamping his head and body down so he could not squirm or move a muscle. Lynn moved into position to show him her two bottles.

“Listen closely, precious, because soon you’ll have trouble hearing anything. I need to get you on board with helping us solve all these mysteries. By the time I’m through I want you to address me as Mistress of the Unimaginable, because that’s what I will be to you. In this eyedropper I have a solution of sulfuric acid and water solution when I dribble a little tiny bit into your ear, it will be… how shall I say this… uh… invigorating. I bet you’ll want to help after you get a sample. This other bottle holds the antidote to the first which you will simply love. Without it, your head would probably explode. Hold on tight, kiddies, I’m going in.”

Lynn dripped the sulfuric acid solution in perfectly. When the mixture hits the inner ear, I doubt any words exist which could describe it. As Lynn warned probably comes closest. Lynn allowed Cory to writhe around in the utter insanity pain threshold for at least five minutes of hell on earth before applying the neutralizing solution. Then we waited for Cory to turn from screaming insanity to blubbering pleas. Yep. Cory was ready. Lynn nodded for us to straighten out our formerly unhelpful captive. What can I say? Lynn owned his ass.

“I bet you’re going to be Lynn’s happy helper now, aren’t you Cory bear?”

“Anything,” Cory whispered breathlessly. “Anything… just don’t put that stuff in my ear… please! I… I’ll do anything… tell you anything.”

“Good boy! That’s what Lynn wants to hear. Let’s start-”

Laredo rushed in, and received the dead eye stare from Lynn. “Turn off the death rays, Crue. I have news about your strapped down friend. He’s Albanian. His name is Jak Halil. He’s on Interpol’s watch list as an Isis sympathizer. I bet you can guess what Denny and I are thinking.”

“Excellent interruption, cowboy. You’re forgiven. Good work. I believe you and Spawn are thinking gang infiltration and ties with our Isis people in the holding cells.”

“That’s exactly what we’re thinking, Crue,” Laredo replied. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“You’re Jak, huh?”

“Yes! That is me. I am Jak Halil, Mistress! I came to Columbia by ship container. I was then smuggled into Mexico before entering America across the border by tunnel into San Diego.”

“Now the pieces begin to click together, Jak. Thank you. We have some people to show you. I want to know if you ran across them in your travels. You do understand it would be very bad if my human lie detector, Clint, notices you’re lying, right Jak?”

Jak’s lips quivered. “I understand.”

Lynn clapped her hands together happily. “I love this cooperation. I may not have to give you ear drops again. We’ll go to our holding cells, walk you along the cells, and you see if you recognize anyone in the cells. This is important. Whether you recognize anyone or not, I want you to keep your mouth shut. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes. I can do it. Show me the people.”

* * *

Outside the cells, of which first Metger and then Claire were held, they sprung from their beds with hands fisting the bars.

“You bastards can’t imprison us like this!” Claire was outraged.

“You don’t even have a TV in here!” Metger ruined our solemn entry into the holding cell area with that line. We needed to stop for a moment before going on.

“Don’t you worry, sweetie,” Lynn said to Claire. “We’ll be getting to you real soon, and you won’t be disappointed, right Jak?”

“Yes, Mistress!” Jak kept his eyes on the floor.

Lynn stopped to speak with Metger too. “Hi honey. I know you’re kind of bored. I’m going to send my helpers down to show you a few movies. After you see them, you will never think of video viewing in quite the same way. Gus?”

We were networked with audio and video so as to see every nuance as we went from cell to cell. The minions were monitoring in the control center.

“On it, Mistress,” Gus acknowledged.

“Let’s proceed, shall we, Jak.” Lynn took Jak’s arm, guiding him to the next cell.

It wasn’t until we reached Lut’s cell that I noticed a slight tell on Jak’s face. Lut was even more apparent. His facial expression changed from mild annoyance to terrified in a split second. Lynn moved Jak on to Fahima’s cell. She didn’t bother to hide anything.

“You fool! What have you done!? How could you let yourself be taken?”

Fahima began throwing a college girl tantrum. We were so unprepared for it, even Lynn watched attentively. She ripped at her clothes, pounded on everything in the cell, and finally threw herself on the bunk. Every few seconds, she would screech in anger, and pound on the mattress, flinging from side to side. Then the entertainment really began. The minions zapped her. Fahima’s hand caught on the side of the bunk nearest the wall. For a moment she pitched up and down, a wailing cry of anguish the only sound in the cell area. Her hand jerked loose. Fahima pitched off the bunk and onto the floor in a twitching heap. I thought Lynn was going to pass out. We all enjoyed the show, but the minions were golden after that perfectly timed electrocution. Many moments passed before Lynn wiped the tears from her eyes.