Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (9 page)

Lynn carefully held the eyedropper close to the woman’s ear opening, and squeezed out a single drop. It dripped down inside the ear. Even the rubber ball gag wasn’t enough to do more than muffle the high pitched crescendo of horrific pain. It was all Gus and Quays could do to keep from being bucked off the woman’s body as Lynn laughed.

“Oh yeah, baby! Now there’s some pain, huh Zorro? I’m going to make most of the pain go away now.” Lynn dribbled a mixture of baking soda and water mixed with peroxide into the woman’s ear, neutralizing the acid mix. “There we go. All better… or at least somewhat better. That ear won’t be well anytime soon.”

Lynn waited until the woman’s convulsions weakened. Lynn grabbed the woman’s chin in a vice like grip. “Now… do you want to be Lynn’s little helper, or do you want to be a mean girl and get another dose of hell?”

Lynn released the woman’s chin. She shook the acid mix bottle in one hand, and the antidote in the other, chanting, “little helper… mean girl.”

Zorro made pleading noises, bleating each time Lynn said ‘little helper’.

“Good girl. Take the gag off. Don’t forget. We’ll pop the ball back in and start again if I don’t hear some real helpful information right away. First, since you were so proud of whoever the hell it is you are, I want you to tell me who you are, and why the fuck I should care.”

Gus removed the gag and ball. The woman vomited. Quays had been ready for that reaction, dragging her away from the spew, and throwing a towel on the mess. He gave the woman a few sips of water from a bottle he held to her mouth, squirting it in. When she could talk without sobbing or gagging, the woman blurted out her name, and who she was and why Lynn should be impressed.

“I am… Fahima Cruz. I am the top female recruiter for Isil in Southern California and Mexico. I…I attend UCLA. From there, through the social sites, I recruit women to our cause. I have been-”

“Shut up with that Isil crap. I’m not impressed, Zorro. You’ll be much more impressive today when you help the United States gain a Navy Seal hero back into their ranks while we kill and capture all your buddies. Then, I will personally rip your fucking social networking apart. I’m going to make you into a crusader cow, bitch! We’ll milk you like the traitorous zit on the ass of America you are. Give me an address where the Navy Seal is being held and I mean right now!”

Fahima recited the address. Quays texted the address to Jafar. Twenty minutes after Jafar acknowledged reception of the address, everyone in Lynn’s group and at the tunnel received satellite footage of the site, including heat signatures for a dozen men inside the building. Two armed guards were stationed at the warehouse building entrance.

“Let’s not keep the boys waiting. It looks like Fahima doesn’t need another dose of truth serum yet.” Lynn bent down and slit the throats of both Tijuana policemen. She wiped her blade on the still twitching last victim’s uniform shirt. “Sorry about that. We don’t have room for hired thugs this trip. Silvio. Help Angela throw some personals together. She’s leaving with us for good.”

Lynn grabbed Fahima’s hair. “Open your fucking mouth without any lip, and I’ll have Gus wash off the rubber ball. Make a sound, and I’ll have him piss on it instead.”

Fahima opened her mouth wide without remark. A grinning Gus rinsed the rubber gag ball, and stuck it in the woman’s mouth, again tying the gag to hold it in place. Lynn put the hijab back into position covering Fahima’s face. Lynn cut the binding on her ankles and wrists. She then pulled the woman’s loose flowing black garb up, taking arms out of the sleeves. Lynn plastic tied Fahima’s wrists behind her back again before rearranging the outer garment over the woman. Silvio escorted a bewildered Angela with her bag out to join the others. Lynn put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“We’re going to get Smitty right now. We have to take you along for good. It would not be safe to leave you here in Mexico.”

“Smitty told me he loved me. I pray he still does after being taken in my country.”

“It is what it is, Angela. He’s a Navy Seal. I doubt he holds a grudge. I didn’t like what this bitch Fahima said about him being uncooperative. Whatever they’ve put him through, I’m going to do ten times that on the bitch in the burka.”

Fahima let out a bleating sound, only to hear the click clack of Lynn’s butterfly knife locking into position under her eye once more. The bleating stopped.

* * *

Strapped to a chair, Gerald Smithson gritted his teeth as the man he knew only as Lut energized the Taser needles stuck in the inside of his thighs. He bucked in the chair, every muscle in his body cramping into searing pain filled knots. Smitty passed out. When he did, the ice water thrown into his face brought him into consciousness gasping for breath. Lut’s clean shaven, nut brown face peered into his with a smile. The chair, bolted to the floor, and located at the middle back wall of the an empty garage, dug into his ankles, knees, midsection of his back, wrists, and neck where the straps held him with brutal tightness.

“Soon, we will have your girlfriend here to help you remember the details of your Coronado Base, and the many details of routine at the base.”

Smitty closed his eyes. Angela’s tear stained face, and her heartrending sobs the last thing he saw and heard before a black bag was jammed over his head. He prayed to God she left Tijuana right after his abduction. Smitty gave up all hope for himself. He knew this place would be nearly impossible to pinpoint his location in. The open handed smash to his face brought him back to the reality of Lut’s smiling face. Smitty looked at the other six men lounging around in the wide garage area. It incorporated three pull down garage doors made of paneled wood. The calm bearing of his captors convinced Smitty whoever had him feared nothing from anyone outside the building.

“Do you know who we are, Smitty? That is your name. We know much about you. We are Isil. Soon, we will strike your base at Coronado so all of America will know Isil can strike anywhere, even the base of the Navy Seals. You will be much more helpful when we skin your girlfriend in front of your eyes. No one can reach you here. The Tijuana Cartel owns the police, and the people within this city do as they are told to do. This can be less difficult.”

“You…you don’t mind if I pray you cannot find my Angela, do you?”

Lut’s face lost its smiling countenance. “Such will not be the case. I have people picking her up now. I will entertain you then until she gets here.”

Smitty nodded, gritting his teeth once again. At that moment the paneling exploded inward on the center door. A huge figure in helmet and body armor plunged in amongst the door debris. The giant shrugged off the hits from weapons firing at him from all directions. He spotted Smitty, and ran in a full speed sprint at Lut. His captor barely raised the weapon he plucked off a bench at his back before the huge lumbering apparition ran through him. The giant kicked Lut in the head. He then grasped Smitty’s chair in massive hands and ripped it out of the floor to its side while keeping his body between Smitty’s chair and the firing men in the garage.

* * *

After Lucas put holes in the heads of the guards in front of the center garage door. I ran to the door, felt the wood, and smiled. I backed away about twenty feet. The cheap ass door plywood paneling shattered like balsa wood under the irresistible Cheeseburger attack. Inside, I took fire from a number of directions, but spotted Smitty right away. He was my priority. I raced at the guy nearest him, who managed to grab a weapon, but didn’t get to fire it before I flattened his ass. I kicked him in the head and got Smitty down to the floor.

My guys flooded in behind me. We were all well armored because we wanted prisoners. That didn’t mean my guys didn’t shoot. Every shot they took hit something, taking out shoulders, legs, and knees until only writhing balls of agony were left, at least the Middle Eastern men. Unfortunately, for the Mexican gangsters, we were racially profiling. Yeah, I know… profiling is wrong. We had no room on this trip for everyone in the Tijuana Cartel. Our Southern neighbor thugs received holes in the head. Once my Monster Squad put the bad guys down, I righted Smitty.

“Hey, Smitty Commander Tom sent us down here. He heard you were entertaining the wrong crowd, and didn’t want you stuck with the bill.”

“My girl… she’s in trouble, Sir.”

“Nope. Angela is with us.” I cut him free of the straps. After a measuring look at the guy on the ground and at Smitty, I quickly stripped the guy I kicked in the head, handing Smitty his clothes. “Try these on, Smitty. I don’t want Angela to get embarrassed. Have you seen the guys in the house at all?”

“No, Sir,” Smitty answered worriedly. “I know they’re in there. They can get you on your six, Sir.”

“Not to worry, Smitty. This isn’t our first rodeo. We have a sniper covering the front. The old fart never misses either.”

“I heard that, Recon! I’m takin’ my shot pokin’ you come Tuesday you goldbrick!”

“Damn it, Lucas. Did you have to mention the Bay?”

“Heh…heh… not so smart-mouthed now, huh? Crue’s on the way in with the girlfriend.”

“Understood. Any movement in the house?”

“Can’t see shit through the windows. Denny and the minions have the house rear covered. They probably don’t think we know they’re in there. The bad part is they probably got the call in for help. Ask Achmed the Terrorist.”

“What about it, Achmed?”

“Looking at satellite footage now,” Jafar replied. “You are clear so far. Laredo is five minutes out from your position. Commander Tom has picked the rooftop point he and his team will rope down at. I have his team on with Denny. Laredo will fly back out immediately after drop off as planned.”

“Great. Watch our six, Achmed. Let me know if things change. Tell Tom, Smitty is okay.”

“Will do. Achmed out.”

Crue walked into the garage through the hole with an arm around Angela. They no sooner cleared the hole I made before Angela ran crying into the newly dressed Smitty. The shoes were a bit floppy, but the rest of the outfit was okay. Yeah, it was a tender moment until Crue reached me. She pointed at the guy flopping around at my feet, who was a bit disoriented.

“Did you break my toy, Cheese? Those other ones are only minions.”

“He’s okay, Crue.”

“She’s right, Sir,” Smitty said while hanging onto Angela for dear life. “The man at your feet ran this cell here. His name is Lut. I don’t know the last name. There are others, and he knows where they are.”

“Very helpful, lover,” Crue said, bending down to check Lut. She spotted the Taser gun. “Did Lut torture you, Smitty?”

“He wanted information about the base, Ma’am. I didn’t give it to him. He got creative. Lut threatened to skin Angela in front of me when she was brought here.”

Crue reached down and grabbed Lut in a vice grip on his cheek. “Is that so? Well, Mr. Lut, let’s get you into this mangled chair. This chair looks like more of your handiwork, Cheese. Did you have to break everything in the garage? Never mind. Put him in the chair for me. I need a warmup.”

I righted the heavy metal chair, banging it until there wasn’t much of a teeter effect to it. Then I grabbed Lut’s arms, snatched him into the air and back down heavily on the seat, listening to the satisfying grunt of pain. Clint signaled he was done patching the three live ones up with our med kit, while Casey watched the door leading into the house with his MP5. I waved back at him. We heard Laredo’s UH-60M hover in. Fifteen minutes later, after a minor shooting war, Jafar came on in my ear.

“Six down up above. No survivors. They are all Mexican nationals. They probably called it in, John. I am monitoring all cell towers and movement in the area. The Commander is heading down to you. Denny and the minions are on their way around to the front. Don’t shoot. You will have company.”

“Acknowledged. You get that, guys?”

I saw the heads bob. A moment later, Tom joined us in the garage, leaving his team with the vantage points above. He had a moment with Smitty and Angela before joining me, where I was busily anchoring Lut down for Crue. “Any casualties above, Tom?”

“No casualties. They did not surrender. Are we getting out of here?”

“Yep.” I stood, nodding at Crue as her minions joined our group with Denny moving next to me. “You take Smitty and Angela with you. Laredo will fly your team and a couple of our guys out with the prisoners we have down here. We’re keeping the one in the chair. They have an Isis cell, and Smitty says they have designs on a Coronado Base attack. We’ll look into it before we head back.”

“We’ll go with you.”

“No, you won’t, Commander,” Denny said. “I don’t want any active duty personnel left here on Mexican soil doing anything. This will continue a black op. Keep the area secure, load our prisoners and your man, and get the hell out of here.”

Tom wanted to test Denny, but I could see he had more sense.

“It’s a win, Tom. We need to look into this other deal,” I explained. “Any of your men caught on Mexican soil, and it will be an international incident.”

“What about you?”

“We’ll be fine. Standby. Achmed?”

“Yeah, John, I’ve been listening. Laredo is on his way. He’ll hover above the wide street while you guys keep his LZ a fire free zone. ETA five minutes.”

“Five minutes, Tom. Lucas? Did you get all that?”

“I’m watching. No movement, and the neighbors know not to dance around out in the streets. Best get the stretcher cases on the street ready for lift off.”