Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (26 page)

“It helps you can damn well take kicks too,” Dev said. “I’ve seen the guys you go up against try leg kicks on you. They give it up because they’ll break their feet on those damn cement posts you call legs.”

“Dev and I studied the Viking. He only kicks as a distraction,” Jess added. “I think he has soft feet. I’ve seen guys with soft feet before. They try not to wince when they do leg strikes, but they can’t help it. He counters as quick as the Rattler did. If you get in the way of his deathblow when you kick partner, you won’t need to worry about your results. We’ll be trying to revive you or getting a priest for last rites.”

“I say take a knee,” Casey said. “You’ve had a hell of a win period, brother. Back the hell away from this playground fight. I’ve seen your knife hand strike under the heart, and your throat strike. The Viking would have been dead yesterday on the dock before his head hit the pier. You don’t have anything to prove. We can go fishing once in a while, and you can do your pole tricks in the water to keep in shape occasionally. We’ve been getting enough action to satisfy the other need us Monsters have.”

My mind shot back into memory land when he mentioned seeing me do those kill strikes. “Fucking Lebanon.”

Casey chuckled nodding his head. “Trapped out of our hotel with no weapons. Lucas and Clint were still twenty minutes away. That kill squad thought they had easy pickings.”

“Man, I’m glad you had your knife that night, brother. It sure taught us to never be unarmed no matter what the danger of being stopped was. Anyway, I know eventually I’ll have to do something like you suggest, but damn… walking down the aisle in the Mandalay Bay Arena with thousands of people screaming and the Marine’s Hymn playing in the background… I have to take another shot at it while I still can, Case.”

“If you flip Cruella Deville into the water again, you won’t have to worry about Mandalay Bay crowds,” Casey replied. “You’ll be more concerned with feeding tubes, and having some nursing staff turn you so the sun shines in your face for a few minutes.”

We hooted in appreciation of that glum prediction for a minute or two.

“What the hell am I doing out here then, Case? I did what I was instructed by Crue herself when she invented the damn hook drill.”

“You told us it was going to happen, brother,” Jess said, whispering while glancing at the bridge to make sure Cruella wasn’t standing next to him. “That was a premeditated Cruella Deville dunking, punishable by worse than death.”

Dev shook a warning finger at me. “What Jess said.”

“Definitely premeditated,” Tommy agreed. “The sentence…”

“Is death,” Casey finished with his head hung down.

“You guys are so cute.” I began to get into this baiting of Cruella Deville stuff. “I am an alpha dog! I don’t take shit from Cruella Deville.”

Four faces, four dropped jaws, and at least three terrified looks of impending doom. I grinned. “She’s standing right behind me… isn’t she?”

Four mouths close, and all four heads nod. I gave her a finger wave over my shoulder. “Hi, Crue. How was the water?”

That’s how the fight started.

* * *

Tommy, Jess, and Dev stayed with our Hollywood Bounty Hunters on the small street behind the Planet Fitness parking lot across from the Bank of America on MacArthur Blvd. It was the perfect scene. The two bank robbing killers knew their parts perfectly. Lynn had rehearsed them before we set any scene into motion. We had a busy midday parking lot where two deranged and murderous bank robbers cased their next target. Lynn, hovering near the Hollywood Bounty Hunters cameraman, Sigfried Kandelus, made sure the angles were correct for the grim bank robbers.

Lynn filmed the tension packed first twenty minutes of the episode where the desperados, Metger Sampson and Clare Booth arrived in an old Chevy, on loan to the film crew by yours truly, the famous Cheeseburger. Although we were absolutely certain they wouldn’t try to run, I and the very capable Agent Tonto huddled behind the front seat. Every few moments, Agent Tonto during the initial filming would issue an encouraging low toned growl guaranteed to loosen bowels. I was having a great time as Tonto’s bed in the back. At least Lynn didn’t tell him to pee on me.

After filming the bank robbers arriving, Lynn and Sigfried had moved to the dramatic arrival scene of the heroes with Clint taking on camera duties. Sigfried hurried to join his friends as they disembarked from their ready van, tattoos gleaming in oil under the noonday sun, muscles flexing while they donned their Kevlar. The only three truly tough guys, Kevin Halliday, Les Tavor, and Jet LaMarcus did equipment and weapons checks, followed by tests on their communications gear. All the while, their tiny badass blonde star, nicknamed the Buffster, Kensy Talon, traded concerned dramatic looks with her lover, Kevin Halliday. I enjoyed it all with my range finders in the backseat while Agent Tonto kept an eye on our docile criminal masterminds. All I could think of was Lynn really did have talent as a director.

The big surprise setup came when FBI Agents Sam Reeves and Janie Labrie screeched to a halt in true Men in Black fashion, dressed to the nines in black wardrobe, and black Ray-Ban sunglasses. Lynn had personally written the script for the FBI Agents interaction with the Bounty Hunters as they rehearsed last second plans before the takedown and transfer of the notorious murderers. I waited tensely, because Director Montoya/Dostiene was not to be trifled with. Sam and Janie were supposed to be perfect in one take. I listened to the dialogue with my eyes closed. It sounded great. I opened my eyes and it looked like Lynn was happy. I breathed a sigh of relief for the FBI. Then it was my turn to prep the bad guys.

“Okay… your big scene is next. For your sakes, I hope you both have your lines down pat, because Director Montoya/Dostiene is not in a playful mood today.”

“We heard the monster’s disciples laughing like hell, and talking about what you did on the boat,” Metger whispered fearfully. “Why didn’t you just shoot us in the head when you came back? She worked us with those fucking needles for a solid hour with that new pincushion torture device… and we already knew our lines.”

“It was horrible!” Clare was near tears.

That put me near tears. If I let her cry away the makeup job, it would be me on the hot-seat with the Director. “Don’t start crying. You’ve already had your makeup job done. Calm the hell down and rehearse your lines. Here she comes. Don’t screw this up! Remember to be natural. You’re casing the Bank when a van drives next to you. It’s the badass Bounty Hunters, their weapons trained on you. You reach for your weapons, but they shout and threaten you both into surrendering reluctantly. The only thing left after that is the FBI Agents take you both into custody.”

Clare glanced back at me, hope shining in her face. “Really? We’ll really be transferred into federal custody?”

“Yep. You and Metger then have two hours to make a full written confession of everything the two of you have done. If your time runs out, you get transferred back to us for another training session. We don’t want that, now do we?”

“No!” Metger was very sincere. “I’d rather be hung by the neck than spend another second with that monster!”

“Put me in a room alone with a razor. I’ll slash my own wrists rather than be transferred back to your people,” Clare stated without hesitation.

“That’s the spirit. Now be silent. Think of your acting careers only right now. This has to be perfect. Okay… I have to get down with Agent Tonto. Good luck.”

I petted Agent Tonto while listening to the very exciting ending to a terrific TV reality episode. I’m certain this one might mean an Emmy nomination for Lynn. Although Agent Tonto and I were bonded friends, he was starting to smell a little gamey, so I was pleased when Lynn opened the car door.

“Okay, Cheese, that’s a wrap. It was perfect! I might actually let you live.”

“You can’t do shit to me. Al owns your ass. Don’t try those two bit threats on me. Agent Tonto and I have bonded here in the back. He’s on my side too. I could probably order him to throw you on the ground.” I stepped out to the parking lot, while petting Agent Tonto’s head.

Lynn gave out a quick two toned whistle. Tonto immediately peed on my foot.

* * *

It was party time for the Dark Lord at The Warehouse. We had a drinking meeting with whichever Monsters wanted to come. The main gist of the meeting was a debriefing from Sam and Janie. Also, the FBI Agents wanted to form a plan of attack with Clint and Lynn to nail the serial killer that was on our to do list. After the last few days in Monster land, only Clint and Lynn showed along with Lynn’s unfortunately named Snow Whites, Dev, Jess, and Tommy. Even the minions were taking family time. I sipped with the Snow Whites at the end of the bar waiting for the others, including Alexi Fiialkov possibly.

“Jafar showed us the security footage from the dock, brother,” Jess said. “That was some nasty business, but damn! You bitch slapped the Viking. What the hell made you do that?”

“He was beginning to annoy me.” The truth went a lot deeper, but I had no intention of boring my brothers with my inner crap. Besides the answer I gave amused my companions. “His face tats looked like they were glaring at me.”

“Your striking was good today, John,” Dev said. “The strikes and counters were as fast as I’ve ever seen you throw. The Bay training and TV filming didn’t even slow you down.”

“The move you put Crue into the Bay with would have nailed Northman if you could get him on the mat without dying,” Tommy said. “You are improving. Have you thought about the UFC championship?”

“Not much. Every time I get to enter the cage at the Mandalay Bay feels like I already own the championship. I’m corrupted. I used to think the smelly old warehouse fights were the bomb. I’m spoiled.”

“Nothing wrong with working up to a little luxury. If the damn fights weren’t so pressure packed for us, we would have a better time at the Mandalay too,” Tommy replied. “It is hell on wheels walking to and standing in the cage.”

“The aftermath of a win is the best, unless we get porked like you did to us after you whupped the Rattler,” Jess complained. “Damn… you got us good.”

“If Rattler hadn’t promoted the fight as the St. Valentine’s Day massacre, you wouldn’t have gotten us. We walked right into it with Tommy asking what you said to him before they took him out on the stretcher.” Dev shook his head ruefully. “Happy Valentine’s Day. That was an ace. We had to nearly swallow our tongues to keep from howling in laughter while they carted poor Rattler out of the cage.”

“At least I wasn’t an unfeeling monster about it. I didn’t really say it, but I sure got you guys.” I glanced at the door and saw Alexi Fiialkov. I gave him a wave. “Here comes Alexi. The old man was none too happy about his ship nearly made into a nuclear missile.”

“He probably didn’t care much for the assassination attempt either,” Tommy added.

We all shook hands. Alexi had become an important key to homeland threats at our deep water port, not to mention positioning Ray Alexander for his final adjustment. Marla served Alexi’s tea with a big welcoming smile. I suspected the old gangster has been courting our favorite bartender.

“Thank you, Marla,” Alexi held the thankful look a bit past ‘thanks for the service’. “Gentlemen. I assume Ray Alexander will no longer be spying for unknown sources in the future?”

“That would be correct,” Tommy answered. “He sleeps with the fishes… literally.”

Alexi laughed. “Yes… very good. That last stunt makes me think he was selling me out in other ways at other times. I am not often tricked, but between one of my own crewmen whom I have investigated thoroughly setting me up, and Ray’s behind the scene spying, I may be losing a step.”

“Believe me when I tell you this, Alexi, the past week has had many eye opening curves to it,” I said. “Denny is in Washington now. That near disaster involving The Roma opened dumbass politico eyes all the way inside every nook and cranny in D.C. They’re scrambling amongst all the intelligence agencies for any sign of something similar in ports around the nation. You can rest assured they’ll be able to find out where the cargo they attempted to transfer onto your ship came from. That is one item they will not be able to hide.”

“I hope before a successful disaster they trace the originator. There are stockpiles of such cargo or materials only available in a small number of countries, accessible by a very finite number of people in authority.”

“That’s our take on it too. Denny won’t let this drop. He took Maria with him because she is very near her delivery time, and he plans to stay in D.C. until certain they aren’t looking the other way.”

“We have a small local matter I was approached with. A representative from the 98 Crew gang wants a meeting with the Oaktown Cartel tomorrow night at my arena. I think by the rumors I’ve heard they plan to get a few new meth processing plants in operation. They know what’s happened to some of the other gangs who tried to do the same thing. I believe they think a champion is amidst their ranks who can take the infamous Cheeseburger.”

That declaration interested my companions a lot more than the D.C. aspect of conversation. Tommy, Dev, and Jess were having the time of their lives with the minions while running the Oaktown Cartel. They traveled like ‘Godfather’ movie gangsters in limousines, dressed in Godfather attire, to inspect and pay the gangs we had absorbed. Naturally Alexi had the full attention of the Cartel players at the bar. I was thinking in terms of a great first test of my superfast arm-bar if I could keep from getting clocked by accident. They must have someone they’re enthused about, because the street rumors about what happened at Jess’s Mom’s house spread like wildfire. Tommy wondered the same thing.