Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (23 page)

“How am I looking now, guys?”

“Clear so far if you want to make your case,” Clint replied. “If anything is alive on that bridge it will be a miracle, but you’ll have to make sure of all top level positions before allowing the messengers to try and get the crew to surrender.”

“Understood.” I made sure the wounded guys were paying attention. “Listen to me. Do either of you speak English?

Silence. Damn it! I grinned. I should have brought Lynn with me in the equipment container. I repeated the question in Arabic. Nothing. They were both Middle Eastern and sullen. I think the long day took its toll then. I stood to fire a burst into both their heads. Screw the prisoners. Screw the explosives, and screw these two sullen shit-heads. Suddenly, I felt like going below decks and having my own personal party time. Black death shot through me in a firestorm, riding the back of the killer inside. They saw my face and became very vocal.

“No! Do not kill us! What… what is it you want?”

They were singing variations of the mantra, but I’d had enough of that song. I let the pad of my index finger squeeze on the trigger slowly while I smiled at their cringing terrified features. All alone with the enemy of everything living, I decided to kill everything on the boat. If there were rats aboard, they better find a hole and hide their young.

“Please!”

How sweet. More cries for peace and goodwill. There’s some music with a beat. Too late, little friends. You made one too many voyages into darkness. Time to die. One more slight pull and…

“Recon!” Lucas’s drill sergeant voice blasted into my head. “I can see your face! Back the fuck off, kid!”

“Let him go, Pappy.” Lynn’s voice joined.

“Shut up, Crue! He’s going to kill them all! John! Stand the fuck down, Marine!”

I don’t know how long I froze after hearing the stand down order. My friends wisely stayed silent on the line. For many moments, me and the killer were mates even the Corps couldn’t stop in my head. The sounds of the ocean waves beating against the tugboat’s side seeped into my brain like the strains of an old faded memory. ‘Paint it Black’ by the Stones played through my mind as the pad of my index finger eased slowly away from the trigger. I knelt down near the wounded. Yeah… I had their attention now.

“You… you killed Dahi in cold blood!”

“I’m not a doctor, asshole. I’m the fuckin’ reaper! Listen closely. I won’t repeat myself. If you don’t understand… too fuckin’ bad. I’ll just shoot you both in the head. Do you understand?” My mate was standing by waiting for a reason.

I heard the chorus of understanding complete with violent head bobs in the affirmative.

“Here is what will happen. I am going to frisk both of you for weapons. It will hurt. Then-”

“We are unarmed!”

The MP5 made noise shifting toward the prick’s head.

“Recon!”

Fuckin’ Lucas! I grabbed the interrupter’s nose, nearly pulling it off his face. “Go ahead… please interrupt me again!”

Silence. I released him with attitude, and did the frisk first, accompanied by the screams of manhandled wounded. Boo hoo. Then I was ready for my lecture. “I will be checking on the dead above. Feel free to move anywhere you want. If you’re not in the same exact positions I left you in, I’m going to rip your arms and legs off. When I get back, I’ll patch your wounds. Then you will hobble or crawl through the rest of the ship, and tell your crew to surrender. All of you will then come up on the main deck and kneel with hands clasped behind your fucking heads. When you go down there tell your crew anyone not surrendering will be sliced until blood flows, and fed to the sharks alive. I will be back in a moment. Remember what I said.”

I left them to search above decks. I smiled when I reached the bridge. It was a .50 caliber charnel house. Six bodies blasted to pieces lay about the bloody room. I was not in the mood for body searches. I fired into each because I don’t leave anything to chance. No other area above the ship’s hold hid the living or the dead. I returned to my wounded with the first aid kit from the bridge. One fact became clear to them as I worked on their wounds, I wasn’t a doctor, and I didn’t play one on TV. When I finished, I moved back away from them and shifted the MP5 into firing position.

“Do either of you not understand what you need to do or think you can’t walk or crawl to get it done?”

In answer, they helped each other to a standing position. They hobbled toward the hatch leading to the crew quarters and other parts of the tugboat. There were two bodies with pulped heads lying like bloody sentries at the hatch where they must have decided to check things out before I was done. There might be a lot more of them soon. My walking wounded looked at me as they reached the hatch.

“Go ahead. Good luck. You’ll need it if every one of you motherfuckers ain’t out here on your fucking knees in the next fifteen minutes!”

It took my helpers only ten minutes. There were fourteen. After they were kneeling, I made them all lay face down on the deck, hands again clasped behind their heads. Now I get to see if my helpers brought everyone out. If they didn’t, me and my mate were going to kill until the buzzing inside my head went away.

“Jafar?”

“We’re here, John.”

“Find out if there’s a heat signature left below decks. Tell them to be extra careful on their readings or it will be one fuckin’ bloody day.”

“Understood.”

I waited. I knew it would take more than a few minutes. Then I got a prisoner complaint.

“My arm! It is cramping!”

I shot him in the head. “Anyone else have a cramp or maybe not like lying on the cold deck?”

Silence. Very good. The complaint department on board was working – all satisfied customers to be sure.

“Below decks is clear and confirmed, John,” Jafar said in my ear a moment later.

“Thanks, little brother.” I took a deep breath and turned to my playmates. “I want one of you who knows where the cargo to be transferred aboard The Roma is to take me to it. If I have to find it myself, then everyone dies.”

I moved in front of the fucking enemies of humanity without a care, MP5 ready for some enemy population control. “Volunteers?”

One of the clucks leaped to his feet. He had been eyeballing me the whole time on the deck. “I will take you.”

“Good. Stand by the hatch.” When he was in position I issued my other warning. I had no intention of fucking around with restraints today. “Here is what will happen if any of you so much as twitch while I’m below decks. Clint? Short burst near their heads please.”

I backed the hell up. I trusted Clint to put a warning burst of fire at a calculated angle so as not to kill the Cheeseburger with a ricochet, but shit happens. He chose a 7.62 caliber warning note stitching the deck two feet in front of my reclining buddies to deliver my message. They were blessed. I had figured at least a couple of them might not live through the message.

“Nicely done, Clint.” I returned to my stunned charges. “I will be back momentarily. Feel free to move about the cabin. You’ll die, but that’s okay too.”

My helper by the hatch took me to a specially built holding room, complete with iris scan and fingerprints. “I hope it’s your eye and fingerprints that work the fuckin’ door, because if not, I’m going to pluck your eyeball out for wasting my time.”

Without another word, my helper opened the door, leading me inside. I stared for long minutes, my hands knotting around the MP5. My helper watched me in terrified silence. He was right to be terrified. I pointed at a spot at his feet. “Sit down, and don’t speak.”

He did as he was told. I sat opposite him. I needed a moment to descend from the plateau. I thought of China Basin, the city of San Francisco, the entire region filled with the dead and the dying. Fifteen minutes of eternity passed. I stood, gesturing my companion to his feet. “Are there anymore explosives of any kind on board ship?”

“No… this is what was to be transferred.”

“Let’s go back above deck before I do something bad.”

He hurried ahead. When we reached the sunlight I looked up at the sky. I thought there should be rain, thunder, lightning, the rage of God; but there were only wispy clouds, and light-beams. The Lord God in heaven was surely merciful. “Jafar?”

“Go ahead, John.”

“Get on with Denny. They were transporting an atomic bomb to be rammed into China Basin. It’s secure, but there can be no secrecy in disposal. We’ll need direction from him.”

“On it!”

Half an hour later, Denny’s voice came on in my ear while I was enjoying the ocean view from my hellish perspective, pretending it was a wonderful world.

“Colonel Wilders and his seal team will be dropped on board ASAP. Is it safe for the Wolf to get the rest of your team on board to extract all computer gear?”

“Yes. I have a guy who can lead them around too.”

“Thanks, John. See you soon.”

“Yep. Jafar? Did you get that?”

“On our way, John.”

“Ask Casey to bring me a flask of Beam.”

“On it.”

Forty-five minutes later, Casey, Jafar, and my helper were below collecting everything of an information treasure trove they could find. My black mood continued. My companions left me the hell alone. I tucked the Beam brother flask close to my heart for when I finished with restraining the now standing prisoners. Lynn and Clint watched them while I did the restraints. I had only to motion with my finger, and these guys spun with hands behind their backs. That is until I reached the third in line. He thought since there were others on board it would be safe to shoot his mouth off. When he didn’t move after I pointed at him, I had to speak for the first time, and I wasn’t happy about it.

“Turn around, shit-head!”

He jumped out of line, his face a mask of hatred, full spittle encrusted beard and all. “I am Isil! I-”

My right fist shattered his face. He launched straight onto his back without a sound, his mangled face spurting blood. I kicked him in the head so hard it cracked his neck like a rotten tree branch. I dragged him to the railing, dead lifted him above my head, and tossed his ass into the ocean. I returned to my thirteen little Indians left.

“Any other Isils here?”

Silence, and the next in line was already turned with his trembling hands ready for the restraints. “Okay then. Let’s get ‘er done, little buddies.”

After completing my task, I retreated to the nearest bulkhead where I could watch the ocean while I sipped my Beam brother… and it was so damn good my eyes watered in appreciation. I was getting near the end of my Beam brother when the Seals landed by dropping from what looked like an SH-60 Seahawk helicopter. A happy reunion of comrades in arms took place amongst my Monsters and the Seals. Tom met me as I put away my flask to walk over. We shook hands like old friends.

“You must be slipping, John. Prisoners? Really?”

He brought me another step down off the plateau. I nodded with a big smile. “It’s a process. I’m glad to see you, Tom. Any more fallout from our last adventure?”

“Nope. That is all in the rearview mirror officially. Is there anything else we can do for you guys?”

“Let us get the hell off this boat is the best thing I can think of. I don’t care about the authorities. Here’s the deal. They were transferring the atomic bomb down in the hold of this ship to the hijacked tanker Roma, which we stopped from being hijacked, but they didn’t know that. They were planning on ramming the Roma into the AT&T Park pier at China Basin for detonating. All the parts are in the hold.”

“May God help us all, John.” I could tell Tom understood how close we came to a disaster of unknown proportions. I doubt he had the same violent thoughts I did about solutions though.

“Indeed, my friend.”

* * *

I set out my equipment for cleaning on The Sea Wolf’s fantail as we steamed toward home. I sipped from my Beam brother flask while making sure I’d only need a small amount of fresh water for cleaning. Tommy sat near me, sipping his own concoction. My other Monsters were also enjoying a beverage after our apocalyptic mission. We would debrief at our own pace with whoever the hell we wanted to. Stopping a nuclear attack capable of wiping out millions on the western seaboard writes you a ‘get out of reality’ card to use at anytime, anywhere. I knew all the positives of everyone in authority all the way to the President knowing we last resort Monsters stopped something no one would have had a clue about until the Northern West Coast glowed in the dark. I sat finally next to my brother from another mother. We sipped together in silence watching the wake of the Wolf streaming behind us.

“I’m giving you the day off tomorrow,” Tommy stated with concern radiating from his features. “You look rode hard and put away wet, brother.”

“Gee thanks, T. That’s really sweet of you. I think it would be better if I hit the Bay tomorrow and every day until we go to Vegas. I’m practicing. I want to get the timing on the ‘hook’ drill so good, I rip the damn pole out of Cruella Deville’s sadistic hands.”

“Crue does enjoy her work on the training sessions. You got her pretty good earlier in the day. I thought she was going to shoot you. You should have seen her face while working the M2, ripping the tugboat bridge apart. The Psycho was smiling like she was sitting inside a Starbuck’s having a vanilla latte. She’s already called home three times to get a report on Clint Jr from Dannie and Amara though. I believe no matter how many people she either guts, or blasts to kingdom come, the motherhood bug has her in its grip.”