Cold Blooded Assassin Book 5: Nightmare in Red (Nick McCarty Assassin Series)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Cold Blooded Book V: Nightmare in Red
(The Nick McCarty Series)
Nightmare in Red
by
Bernard Lee DeLeo
*****
PUBLISHED BY:
Bernard Lee DeLeo and RJ Parker Publishing Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-1519282682
ISBN-10: 1519282680
Cold Blooded Book V: Nightmare in Red
Copyright © 2015 by Bernard Lee DeLeo
Cover Illustration by: Aeternum Designs
*****
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. Please respect the author’s work. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real life persons, events, or places is purely coincidental.
*****
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.
As it will be with every novel I write from now until my own End of Days, I dedicate this novel to my deceased angel, wife, and best friend: Joyce Lynn Whitney DeLeo.
Chapter One
Ripper Redo
Gerald Kensky smiled. The ‘Seattle Ripper’ sat waiting patiently as the judge read a list of discrepancies in the evidence chain of custody, the death of Dan Lewis who was a major prosecution witness, and the disallowing of US Marshal Nicholas McCarty’s testimony. His lawyer, Benjamin Brock, had also discredited the prostitute’s testimony, because Lewis was dead, and McCarty was denied the right to testify. Sarah Burns made his heart race. He didn’t know when, but she would be his after they let him go. Kensky stood at the court command, his huge figure frightening to many in the courtroom, even dressed in a suit. They all knew he did the killings. Thanks to the audio file recording his admission at the scene of being the ‘Ripper’ and acknowledging the trophies no one knew about, there was no doubt in any of the courtroom audience’s minds Kensky was the ‘Ripper’. The fact an FBI Agent had mishandled evidence chain of custody, causing the case disintegration, cast shadows over the entire procedure. Kaitlin Anderson, the FBI Agent at fault, was relieved of duty pending dismissal.
Kensky listened to the announcement of his release while trying to take the weight off his right artificial foot. The artificial right hand apparatus caused him discomfort too when trying to shift weight balance. The smile fled from his face when remembering the incredible pain from the .50 caliber hollow point sniper rifle bullets tearing the two limbs off. McCarty. Soon, Gerald thought, I will kill everything the sniping son-of-a-bitch ever associated with, starting with his wife, stepdaughter, baby son, and even their dog. No matter how long it took him, McCarty would pay dearly for what he had done. At the end of the dismissal, loud angry cries echoed out in the courtroom. His lawyer Brock patted Kensky’s shoulder.
“Congratulations, Gerald. You are a free man.”
“Thank you, Ben. Will you walk me out?”
“Of course. There will be jackals in the media hounding you everywhere. It will be difficult for a time. It may be in your best interest to stay out of sight for a while. You own a place in Everett, a bit north of Seattle, right?”
“Yes. I’ve decided it would be an excellent place for me to stay a while. You will be pursuing these people who maimed and tortured me, won’t you?”
Brock cringed. “Please don’t mention that in public, Gerald. We may need time between your release and our civil suit. Nick McCarty is not without resources. Right now public opinion is against you. In time, when some of the facts in the case fade from the public memory we’ll be able to exploit your injuries at the hands of law enforcement zealots.”
Kensky leaned down, while order in the courtroom was restored. Shouted epithets rained down on defense table occupants. “Why would we care about McCarty?”
Brock lowered his voice so only his client could hear. “All of his testimony would be allowed along with documentary evidence in a civil trial. We need to wait until we have a better chance of winning.”
“Damn him!” Brock seethed with an uncontrollable need to lash out. “I was tortured and mutilated… and for what? Just because I-”
Brock gripped Kensky’s arm. “Don’t say it, Gerald. Remember our talk. Let’s go out front now. We’ll talk with the media just as we rehearsed. Don’t let them draw you into a discussion of testimony and evidence banned from the trial. Stick with only repeating that you were tortured and mutilated. Add in that your life is in a shambles because of what law enforcement did in ignoring your rights.”
Kensky nodded. He had nearly allowed the pain from his missing appendages to cause an outburst of guilt. The inner raging hatred for McCarty colored his every action. He remembered every second of his ordeal when McCarty had used old man Lewis and the whore to entrap him. The shock of seeing McCarty’s illegal hollow point .50 caliber bullet blow his right hand off at the wrist as he prepared to fire on Lewis haunted his every thought. Then to relive enduring the next moment on the ground while having his right ankle exploded through by two more rounds made him grip the defense table in closed eyed fury. Brock patted his hand.
“C’mon, Gerald. Are you okay to do this? I can get you out of here through the back and meet with the press another day.”
“No! That would be what that bastard McCarty would want. I’ll be fine.”
Gerald turned, spotting his nemesis sitting three rows back with McCarty’s tasty little blue eyed daughter sitting next to him on the aisle. Kensky grinned with the predator’s joy at new game to be stalked. The big black guy and the Arab he’d seen the night of his mutilation sat on the inner part of the seating next to McCarty. They were all staring at him with observant but neutral looks. Even blondie stared at him as if he were a science project. Gerald vowed he would change that look. The only one in the small group sitting one row back, bookended by two other US Marshals, with terror contorting her features was Sarah Burns. She looked away the moment Kensky grinned at her, visibly shaken. He had used his time in rehab to find out exactly where she was living now. McCarty rented a very nice home for the bitch to come and go as she pleased while testifying in the long trial.
Tugging on the much larger man’s coat while handing him his cane, Brock guided Kensky away from the defense table in a well-rehearsed caring and compassionate manner. He then moved aside, allowing Kensky to walk in deliberate steps ahead of him with cane in left hand. This would be the first time Kensky walked by his hated adversaries. He planned to enjoy a slow stride of threatening horror for the little blonde and the dark haired Sarah. The massive six and a half foot tall Kensky leaned down toward Nick’s daughter, glowering at her, allowing every ounce of inner rage to flow from his monstrous features. Sarah Burns gasped in a fearful intake of breath that sounded like a muffled yelp.
To Gerald’s surprise, Nick’s daughter smiled at him as he drew closer, and then frowned, waving her hand in between his face and hers. “W
oe Mister… your breath smells like you just ate a dead woodchuck!”
This caused amused pandemonium amongst her companions and the two US Marshals behind her. Before Kensky could react, the girl shoved a stick of gum at him while shielding her nose and mouth. “Here! This might help, but I think it’s too late for my blouse.”
Kensky jerked upright again. He nearly raised his cane in a fit of pure insanity to strike her with it. The .45 caliber automatic aiming at his groin, held by a calmly smiling Nick McCarty froze the serial killer in place before his lawyer steered him away. Gerald kept glancing over his shoulder as the little blonde bitch kept giving him finger waves goodbye. Oh yeah… I will settle with them all, he thought, especially her. She would live for days, begging to die.
* * *
US Marshal Grace Stanwick reached over to shake Jean’s shoulder. “Did you have to play with the killer? Really?”
Jean grinned back at Marshal’s Tim Reinhold and Grace Stanwick while reaching to grasp the frightened Sarah Burns hand. “Dad let me come to see how goofy the justice system is. Don’t be afraid, Sarah. Dad won’t let the bad old goat breath get you.”
“He…he’s terrifying,” Sarah stammered, covering Jean’s hand with her other one. “I’ve never seen anyone look as evil as that guy. If only Dan would have been able to testify. Kensky’s stared at me every day since I’ve been allowed into the courtroom again. I wish I didn’t have to be bait this time too. Oh… sorry Nick. I’m not supposed to talk in front of your daughter, am I?”
Nick shrugged. “She knows. Jean and Rachel have been with me in worse times. I gave up on keeping the little snoop out of my business. She’s right, Sarah. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I needed you in the courtroom because Kensky dreams about you. He wants you more than he hates me. I believe Jean has catapulted herself a few steps higher on his kill and torture list though.”
“Yes!” Jean pumped her free hand closed in a fist. “That was so tight. Wait until I tell Mom. I was the bomb.”
“Your Dad will be in enough trouble allowing you to come along with us,” Gus said. “It would be best if you kept your lesson in justice gone wild to yourself.”
“I must agree, Jean,” John said from Gus’s side. “If Muerto allows you in on some of these adjustments in murder cases where justice is at risk, a bit of discretion would be advisable. Your Mom has her hands full taking care of baby Quinn. There is no need to add to her worries.”
“Okay, Uncle John, but Quinn’s an angel. He’s already the favorite. At least Dad shows me a little attention.”
Nick sighed. He had been enjoying the usual banter amongst his inner crew. The mention of Rachel and Quinn reminded him quickly of all the home duties yet to be undertaken. Because of the long trial he knew instinctively would go to hell the moment Dan was killed in a home invasion, Nick rented a mansion in the Seattle area where everyone stayed but for Sarah Burns. He had moved her into a home by herself. Luckily, the judge had put them out of their misery in as short a time as possible. Once his ability to testify disappeared into the wind, Nick knew the rest of the trial would be an exercise in futility. The only positive coming from the trial was ‘Great Kate’ being suspended. Even Nick had been surprised at Agent Kaitlin Anderson’s deliberate evidence chain of custody sabotage. His US Marshal insiders, Tim and Grace, tried desperately to hold on to a possibility of a conviction, but today as Nick predicted all hope of a conviction ended.
“Jean knows better than to get into a shock fest with Rachel,” Nick said. “If she wants to continue training with Sonny, then all this sensationalism about trading one liners with Kensky the killer will have to be kept between us. As to Quinn being his Mom’s favorite, babies require a lot of attention. He’s already your favorite.”
Jean shrugged. “He’s so cute. Who knew? I thought he’d be born with horns and a tail.”
“When will Kensky make his move, Nick?” Sarah still gripped Jean’s hand in both hers. “You were right about the trial length being way short. Do you think he’ll come for me soon?”
“He’ll be moving to Everett where he has a place for a while. You won’t have anything to worry about for a couple of weeks. I have someone stationed there who will keep an eye on him. Trust me, Sarah. Kensky will not be back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to resume whatever you wish in your life. Did you give any more thought to leaving the streets?”
Sarah nodded, forgetting for a moment about the ‘Ripper’. “I talked to my Dad back in Rhinelander. He and Mom want me to come home and go to college. If I live, I’m doing it.”
All easygoing nuances disappeared from Nick’s face. “You’ll live. Let’s go walk you out to where Tim and Grace parked. The media will probably still be talking to that horse’s ass, so I’d rather we walked with you. Is that okay with you, Grace?”
“The more, the merrier,” Grace replied. She and Tim already knew Kensky wouldn’t be hurting anyone or suing anyone. “I wonder if we can collect the deposit on his new appendages.”
Nick stood with everyone else around him following his lead. “Best find out soon, Grace.”
* * *
A large press conference, complete with Kensky hecklers, filled the sidewalk area in front of the courthouse, spilling slightly into the street. Nick grinned at the names and catcalls people in the crowd bludgeoned poor tortured Gerald Kensky with as he attempted to sell his martyr act to the general public through the media. His lawyer saw a public relations nightmare blooming. He tried everything to fade away without the last sound bite being his client called a murderous bastard. Kensky spotted Nick angling away along the building to the left while desperately searching for a way out of the media disaster. He hobbled toward Nick’s party, finger pointing while screaming at Nick.
“There’s the one who should be on trial! McCarty maimed and tortured me, denying me my rights as a United States citizen!”
Nick glanced down at Jean. “Go with Gus and John. I’ll play with Gerald until Sarah and all of you are ready to leave. I’ll meet you on the corner.”
“Okay, Dad.” Jean smiled and waved at Kensky before letting Gus and John guide her toward the car. Tim and Grace speeded Sarah slightly to put extra distance between them and the crowd Nick intercepted.
“Hi, everyone. Hello, Gerald. How’s the hand and foot problems?”
“You should be arrested and tried for your crimes! I was acquitted of all wrong doing. You should be in prison, stripped of all power to trample on other innocent people’s rights!”
Nick chuckled. “First off, you weren’t acquitted. Our key witness was killed and an FBI Agent mucked the chain of custody. You were released on a technicality. Folks… is there anyone here that doesn’t know this pathetic piece of shit killed a dozen people keeping their tongues for trophies?”
Silence, except for a few people affirming Kensky’s guilt with attitude.
“Yep. That’s what I figured,” Nick said finally as Kensky glared at the people surrounding him. “I don’t think you’re going to get much sympathy with this crowd. Lawyer Brock, it would be a good idea to get Mr. Kensky out of the public eye. Since Gerald has delusions, maybe you should get him a shrink. I’ve heard rumors you two mental midgets are coming after me in civil court. Please do. When we get done testifying, you’ll be looking for another state to practice law in.”
Nick planted the seeds of expecting to be in a civil suit which was never going to happen. The media filmed the segment with many camera angles of Gerald Kensky’s face reflecting the madness and utter depravity inherent within the brutal killer’s soul. Nick had no doubt if Kensky had his hand and foot back, he would have attacked Nick. Kensky did in fact raise his cane as he surged forward. Nick dropped back to a sideways strike position waving for Kensky to keep coming.
“Oh yeah, Gerald. Come get some. I’ll give you first whacks with the cane. If I’m still moving I’m going to beat you until they’ll need a DNA test at the hospital to fill in your name on the ent
rance forms.”
Brock barely interceded in time. “Gerald! Don’t do this. McCarty’s baiting you. We need to go now. This news conference was too soon!”
“Come any time, Gerald,” Nick called out. “Give me a call when you don’t want to play ‘hold me back’ Lawyer Brock. I’ll be around. I’d love to teach you a few new dance steps. See you guys in court, counselor. By the time I get done presenting the evidence you suppressed in civil court, and counter sue, there won’t be a nickel left for you two to rub together. Bye boys.”
* * *
It was all Brock could do to keep Kensky from launching a suicidal attack on McCarty amongst a desperately angry crowd. He had seen McCarty watching them in the courtroom before. Brock knew Kensky was a psychopathic killer, although he made certain Kensky never said anything to him admitting to the crimes. Brock also knew McCarty was a killer. He doubted his client would last ten seconds one on one in a fight with or without a gun against McCarty. This had been an excellent confrontation for McCarty. Because of his novel writing fame, the video clips of what happened in the last few minutes would be coast to coast news gems, overshadowing the acquittal completely. Brock was a pragmatist. There was no way in hell he could win a civil suit for Kensky.
Brock kept glancing to see if McCarty watched their rather hurried and pathetic retreat from the conference. He did. McCarty waved at him. Brock shuddered. McCarty had calmly blew the hand and foot off his client without any hint of remorse according to Kensky’s own version of what happened. It was then Brock began an intensive search into McCarty’s background. Surprise followed by shock at what he discovered, including the fact he could only access small bits and pieces. If he wanted to buy his novels, or read about McCarty’s author persona, there was plenty of information on his assassin series and not so quiet private life in Pacific Grove. The other bits and pieces referred to his being a member of the Army’s elite Delta Force Unit, along with now being an active consultant with the Department of Justice, the FBI, the CIA, and an active US Marshal. It was insane. One thing he knew from McCarty’s total lack of fear in dealing with the most frightening monster Brock had ever defended, if Kensky wouldn’t let go of the civil suit idea, Brock would let go of him, and never look back. He didn’t exactly know what McCarty was, but he knew he didn’t want to find out – in court or out of court.