Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (18 page)

“Bring them fast!”

We followed orders, dragging our burdens up the remaining distance with violent purpose. Lucas snatched the two women across the ridge and down before returning to his monitoring. He looked like part of the ridge. Once he confirmed we had no interest being paid to us, or our ridge, we moved in pairs to the camouflaged ready van. It looked exactly like an emergency medical tech vehicle. We secured our prisoners under the gurneys in the back, draping covers as camouflage. Then we stripped off everything of an assault nature, and donned our EMT clothing and shields. I rode in the seat behind Lucas and Casey while approaching the roadblock. Lucas slowed, but the police officer waved us through without a word. They didn’t even glance at us on the way through the roadblock a mile down the highway.

“That was horrible,” I told my companions. “I believe the heinous murderers made a clean getaway.”

We shared amusement at my small parting announcement.

“What was with you and the dingbat woman?”

“Something extra is going on with her, Case. It may be nothing, but I want Crue to check her out even if she’s clean on our surface checks. With the number of invented and stolen identities, I’m not taking any chances we have an unknown factor.”

“If you really want to know if they have a game going, let Crue knock the other one around,” Casey replied. “She’ll let us know how important her girlfriend is.”

“Yep. We’ll take all that into consideration.”

“Hell of a statement, gentlemen,” Lucas said. “By the time dust settles from our work on the Locos and the hacienda boss tied in the back, any entity planning on messing with the Oaktown Cartel will have a tough time recruiting.”

“You’re right, Pappy,” I agreed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but playing with my finned friends in the Bay seems preferable to ducking sniper bullets in my backyard.”

“By the looks of your head, I’d say you need seasoning in the Bay, Recon,” Lucas forked me to Casey’s amusement. “If that’s your idea of ducking sniper bullets, I don’t want to see what you consider getting hit by them. Your speed and concentration need work. Crue has the final solution, and your only hope of surviving the Viking.”

“I saw that guy fight,” Casey added. “Those tattoos and his size scared the hell out of the guys he was fighting before they even started throwing hands. At least we know you’re not afraid of him. When you get too cement headed to tap out, we’ll throw in the towel so the freak doesn’t kill you. Then we’ll get you patched up, bag your head, and find a bar.”

Oh, they yucked it up hearing that slice job. “That’s just hurtful, Case.”

* * *

Crue was practically doing a happy dance by the time we arrived at Pain Central. She nearly dragged us out of the ready van with Clint bobbing Clint Jr. in his arms, smiling at his wife’s excitement. Obviously, Bonnie and Clyde did not have a good day. I could only imagine what The Mistress of the Unimaginable could have done to be this happy after a day of interrogation.

“I hope this effusive greeting doesn’t involve eardrops,” I told her. “They won’t be able to hear any dialogue during the scenes.”

Crue grabbed my face, peering into my eyes. “Hold on a second. This isn’t Snow White Cheese is it? I’ll need the real Cheese If I’m going to show him the results of my experiments.”

They hooted at the Cheeseburger grilling. Crue took them through her new nicknames for Tommy and me with avid storytelling ability. By the time she finished, the guys had forgotten what the hell we were doing. Then she yanked the real Cheese into the interrogation room where Bonnie and Clyde nearly pissed themselves at the sight of Cruella Deville. They sat in chairs, hands folded on their laps. She gestured at them with satisfaction.

“These two will perform so well, I’ll get an Emmy Award for the episode. They know their parts, their lines, and every detail they are to act out. Isn’t that right, my good little helpers?”

The two murderers immediately knelt with head down and right hand held up in supplication. “Yes, Mistress!” They chimed in together on the affirmation.

“As you were, children of darkness.” They scuttled back into position. It was plain Lynn Montoya Dostiene owned these two. Their souls belonged to her. She led us out of the room and shut the door.

“We haven’t eaten yet, Crue, so go ahead and tell us what you did to those two.”

“You’ll like this, Pappy,” Lynn replied, holding her tablet so we could see her new interrogation tactic in HD. “Nearly no mess whatsoever. I’ve been studying the nerve endings in the feet. Old school is bloody satisfying, but the finesse of this technique is amazing, and I can do my game show ‘Truth or Consequences’ without permanent damage. Watch.”

Clint, Crue, and the minions decorated the room with the red and green light panel from the last time she did a game show interrogation, complete with buzzer. Metger and Clare, on gurneys next to each other, made outraged bleatings of torture accusations while being strapped down tightly. Our minion electrician, Silvio, wheeled in a cart with an acupuncture needle set, and dual electrical boxes with rheostats. Each box had two wires with tiny alligator clips. Crue explained the game show aspect to the unhappy couple with a true showman’s excitement.

Crue carefully inserted acupuncture needles into the bare feet of her two contestants at the heel and balls of their feet. Silvio then attached the alligator clips to the needles. To describe the features of Metger and Clare as horrified is inadequate, but efficient. Crue’s demonstration of the ‘Consequences’ part of the game nearly turned the two murderers inside out. She waited patiently for them to subside into less vocal mind frames. Explaining there are 7,000 nerve endings in the feet seemed totally unnecessary as I watched the horror movie. Crue taught those two so much in a few short hours, I began to get excited with the technique. Lucas and Casey hugged her. We are indeed monsters.

“You surpassed anything my meager imagination could envision,” I complimented her. “What made you think to use heat?”

“Because it takes so little,” Lynn replied with a big smile. “We didn’t want to damage those thousands of nerve endings, but I could stimulate them painfully with very little. Silvio equipped the rheostats with dual switches for adjustable electrical charge or heat. The heat worked so well without damage, I may only use the electrical charge for experimental purposes. My little electrical genius minion is going to make a field kit for me to take on the road. No muss, no fuss.”

“You’re a genius, Crue,” Lucas said. “Hell… Denny can even give some chosen idiots back to the regular authorities now as we’re doing with those two bunny rabbits in the next room. They don’t have a mark on them.”

Clint chuckled as he handed Clint Jr to his rather versatile Mom. “This newly invented torture is wrong on so many levels. We may have to name it in a way it deserves, and in honor of its creator.”

“How about Deville Podiatry?” Casey offered.

“Crue’s foot massage,” Lucas added.

Oh yeah, we did enjoy the title search, but could not agree on a single one we liked well enough that did justice to our interrogator supreme. Then I remembered we had prisoners still under the gurneys in the back.

“I forgot all about our prisoners. Can you look them over, Crue, or do you want to have us put them in holding?”

“I’m having fun now, Cheese. Let’s go have a look at my new toys. They’re not broken, are they?”

“Nope. They’re in A1 condition,” I replied. “They may be unhappy about being restrained in the back while we watched your demonstration though. I know I’m upset at their discomfort. How about you guys.”

“I’m devastated,” Casey said.

“Nearly in tears,” Lucas agreed.

We reached the van then. I opened the back doors, and climbed inside. I passed Sopa down, followed by the very meek and terrified woman. I could tell the woman I had a hunch about was really pissed. She was intelligent enough not to start shooting her mouth off, but the facial expressions convinced me we had someone a bit more special than Sopa female entertainment. Then the unexpected happened as I passed her down to Casey. Lynn gasped. She had been playing with Sopa and the girlfriend, but when my last unhappy damsel got her feet on the floor everything changed. The woman screamed at sight of Lynn. I hustled down out of the ready van, exchanging startled looks with my compadres while Lynn simply began laughing. She danced around the floor with a giggling Clint Jr. I yanked the woman’s hair to turn off the volume.

“It appears we have struck a minor mother lode,” I observed.

Casey peered into the sobbing woman’s face with a smile as Lynn continued to dance with the baby. “I don’t know what you did, but damn! Sucks to be you. I hope you’re thinking of a million wonderful pieces of information for us. I doubt you’ll get off easy, but compared to what I believe may be in store for you, it will seem like you got off easy.”

Great warmup. The woman immediately thought she could negotiate.

“I’ll tell you everything… everything. I know facts about the Isis supply line from Columbia all the way to the Mexican border! Take me away from Montoya, and I will tell you anything you need! Don’t leave me with her. You’ll get nothing then! She’ll kill me, and you will have nothing!”

That outburst stopped the Mommy and baby dance. Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Clint swept in to take his baby son, giving Lynn a kiss. “Careful, my love. None of us know what this is all about, and it’s killing us.”

Lynn stroked a hand along Clint’s jaw with a tenderness she rarely showed in front of anyone. “Remember when you blew the Cartel drug convoy in payment for getting me out of Mexico? Remember you captured Roberto Perez who had tortured you because he was with the convoy, and it was such a nice surprise?”

Clint grinned. “I sure do. Did this one know you down Mexico way?”

“She sure did. Her name’s Carla Gutierrez. Carla is an unknown Cartel bigwig with the Zeta’s. When she stayed with my prior captor, Louisa Medina, this sadistic bitch took a liking to me, so Medina pitched me to her, and joined in on the fun for three days.”

As Lynn approached her, the rest of us Snow Whites backed the hell away from Carla. She had spent three days pissing off the most dangerous, bloodthirsty woman on earth. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt sorry for one of our captives, but I probably came the closest to it with Carla. The woman knew it too. She dropped to her knees, begging. Carla must have seen something in Lynn during those three days she should have left alone. Then again, I’m sure she never figured on seeing her again.

“Lynn! Please… I can make it all right. I’m sorry! Louisa never hinted at you being anyone of importance! Please… don’t do this!”

Lynn smiled down at Carla, framing her face with stroking hands, before looking toward the ceiling. “Oh, Cara Mia, do you remember the last thing I said to you before Louisa took me back after that third night?”

Carla began to cry openly.

Lynn sighed. “I warned you what would happen if we ever met again. You and Louisa laughed and laughed. Louisa went first. You’re lucky in a way, and unlucky in another way. I’ve been hired by this great bunch of monsters to be their interrogator, because they recognize talent. To make good on their high expectations of me, I must refine my rather messy techniques constantly to repay their faith in me.”

“Today, you have arrived when I reached the zenith point in earning my title of The Mistress of the Unimaginable. That’s the unlucky part for you. The lucky part is I won’t spend a week on you as I had promised myself. I’ve become a mother, so I’m trying to fit motherhood, and my new talent as a movie director into my roles here. We’ll play together for a time to be determined while your pal Sopa watches. After fifteen minutes of our getting reacquainted, I’m certain Sopa will be as helpful as you’ll be after we finish with our reunion, Cara Mia.”

“I can be helpful now, Lynn!” The woman sobbed again as Lynn made clucking noises while shaking her head in the negative sorrowfully.

“Ah, Cara Mia, what kind of hostess would I be if I didn’t repay you in some small way for your past hospitality?” Lynn looked around, literally beaming. We Snow Whites simply awaited orders. All of us are Snow Whites compared to Lynn. I remembered in particular what Phoebe Christova, the woman who sent assassins to kill Clint Jr in the hospital looked like after Lynn finished with her. “Gus, would you please take our movie stars back to holding?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Gus answered in formal minion awe to the Mistress of the Unimaginable. He jogged away to escort Metger and Clare to holding.

“Silvio, you and Quays settle my old friend Carla into interrogation. Make sure she’s tucked in nice and tight, my minions. I don’t want her to be hurt when the ride gets a bit bumpy.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Silvio and Quays did a comical duet before taking charge of the openly hyperventilating Carla. Apparently, she had an imagination.

Denny, who had been watching the entire process with amusement, spoke finally to the rest of us as Lynn drew near Sopa and the other woman once again. “I have a bad feeling we’ve opened another avenue of potential disaster. I thought Sopa would be the end, but there does seem to be some plan we’re not seeing. Maybe there’s so many players in this, they’re compartmentalized somewhere overseas. I know the Isis bunch I sold to the Saudis for a player to be named later this morning didn’t know anymore. I already like what I heard from Carla. I think maybe her and Sopa do know what at least one big plan is. I’m only sorry we can’t get the TV episode shot today, Lynn.”