Rick Cantelli, PI: Into the Darkness (Rick Cantelli, P.I. Detectives Book 3) Read online

  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

  Rick Cantelli, P.I. Book III

  Into The Darkness

  by

  Bernard Lee DeLeo

  *****

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Bernard Lee DeLeo and RJ Parker Publishing Inc

  ISBN-13: 978-1499714883

  ISBN-10: 1499714882

  Rick Cantelli, P.I. Book III: Into The Darkness

  Copyright © 2014 by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  *****

  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.

  Chapter One

  All Good Things Must…

  In no time at all I realized someone had written us off. I smirked at my young spotter. The crowd had formed as if by magic on this wonderful March day in lovely Yemen. Carl and I figured after the Benghazi cluster fuck, our asses would be covered. Luckily, I take disappointment well. The kid with me… not so much. He moved in closer to me. This kid wasn’t plucked from some rose garden. He’d seen combat, special ops, and USA backed missions. Carl Santiago wasn’t scared. He was pissed off. Lois and I were on our first CIA op since being recalled. Tasked to do a threat report on our embassy in Sana’a, Yemen, we found more than a threat. We found actionable intel pointing to a contrived outrage attack on the embassy. Lois flew to Riyadh, hoping to bring back a force capable of holding the embassy. She gave us the word a day later to get the Ambassador and staff out any way we could. We did a slick job of it too with the Marines’ help. They pretended to be on duty as always until the last of the staff left. The Marines left with them while Carl and I had cleanup duty.

  “Shit Rick, they wrote us off.”

  I sighted in on the lead guy. His head exploded in layman’s terms as the fifty caliber, hollow point projectile hit. “That’s what they think, Carl.”

  “Damn… we don’t have a ‘weapons free’ tag on this!”

  I picked out my next target. It was all good with me. “Listen kid… if you think our bosses figure I’ll simply let them put a hood over my old head and swipe my throat with a dull bladed butter-knife for Al Jazeera to record, you’ve entangled yourself with the wrong guy. If you want to surrender… be my guest. Take a second to remember the pictures of our Benghazi Ambassador during his last hours with peaceful Islam. They raped, mutilated, and burned him to death for hours. I’m going out a different way.”

  “After we snuck all the staff out and destroyed everything in the compound, why the hell wouldn’t they pick us up?”

  I spattered the brains of my second target onto his followers. Suddenly… the rabid crowd thought maybe this wasn’t the time or place. Oh yeah! This goes along with the old adage ‘those who hesitate are lost’. I subscribe to that line of thinking. I picked off a couple more soldiers of Allah in the front, paying close attention to the ones trying to hide with rocket propelled grenade launchers. “I don’t know, kid. I’ll ask them when I get back.”

  Carl chuckled. He started spotting again thankfully. I thinned out the herd with a couple more head shots, while he kept an eye on more dangerous targets. One rocket launch and we’d be toast. The brave boys shoved a line of burka women in front for shields. Heh… heh… yeah, that’ll work out well for them.

  “We’ll be out of ammo soon anyway. The two clips we were allowed would have been enough if they’d picked us up five hours ago when we finished with embassy cleanup. RPG, Rick! Ten o’clock!”

  I shifted, saw the bearded turd peek from behind four wailing women, and decorated everyone near him with blood and brain matter. “I think we need a diversion. I have to go down to my room for a moment.”

  “A what?”

  “Watch this, kid.” I began blowing limbs off, shooting to wound, around the burka shields. In a matter of moments screaming casualties lie strewn across the square, some missing a foot, others an arm, and a couple without a dick. My old M82 Barrett wasn’t meant to wound, but it can in a pinch.”

  “That’s nasty, Rick.”

  I saw Carl smile, while checking the square with his range finders. He’d be okay.

  “I’ll be right back. Start suppression fire with your M4, and shoot to wound from now on, unless of course you see one of those RPG boys using burka shields. Shoot through them if you have to. We need this rooftop fort.”

  Carl did as ordered. “What are you going for, snacks?”

  “You’ll see.”

  It only took a minute to reach the room Carl and I had been assigned. I cussed a bit having to drag the damn eighty pound trunk back to the roof. I was one old sweaty geezer when I reached the last flight of stairs. “Hey kid! Fire a clip into the square and get your ass down here.”

  “On it!” Carl fired, and ran down the stairs to me. We hoisted the trunk to the roof with hasty anxiety, hoping not to be greeted with an RPG round in our teeth. Luckily, the clip Carl fired backed off the sappers. The scream chorus yodeled on in agony, beyond the safe reach of rescuers.

  I drank down one of our bottled waters while sighting in on another guy pushing some very reluctant women in front of him, trying to get a clear shot at our rooftop. I fired the Barrett. The shot brushed through a burka, singed the wearer, and hit my target in a very bad spot. I grinned as it took him a second to realize he’d be going virgin hunting without the necessary equipment. What the hell… maybe they grow back across the great divide. My screaming chorus caused a lull in the action. Carl and I took a break. He kept looking uneasily at the square.

  “They won’t like this, Rick. The Al Jazeera cameras are rolling.”

  “Boo hoo. Next time… don’t Benghazi our asses. Thanks to us, the Ambassador and his staff are safe and sound. Actually… thanks to Lo deciphering the latest fake movie outrage to Muslim sensitivities, allowed us to get in front of this particular Islamic Jihad lunacy. Otherwise, we’d have a couple dozen albatrosses around our necks. Remember the Ambassador reading me out for being paranoid. I thought I’d have to kick his stupid ass before I saved it.”

  “I bet he’s feeling a little different now. I’m glad Lo isn’t here.”

  “Me too, only not for the reason you’re thinking, kid. If Lo was here, there wouldn’t be anything left around us but rubble. You’re right though. With her in Riyadh, we’ll be getting help soon, or they’ll need to send in a few of those kids who can see dead people like in the movie. That will be the only way they’ll have a chance to speak with whoever wrote us off.”

  “She couldn’t have done much with the ammo we have. I have half a clip left for the M4, and a couple clips for my Berretta.”

  “Heh… heh…” I opened the trunk. Carl’s face lit up.

  “Oh… my… God! You told them the trunk held medical supplies.”

  “They are
medical supplies – preventive medicine medical supplies.”

  Carl stared down at my trunk’s contents, now only glancing out at the square once in a while. I kept watch though, but soon it would be dark. That’s when the fun begins. He lifted the M32 multi shot grenade launcher from the trunk with a look of awe. Under the M32 were thousands of ammo rounds for my Barrett, his M4 and Berretta, and my .45 Colt. I also had thirty more rounds for the M32 in addition to the six already chambered, along with half a dozen grenades.

  “I’m tellin’.”

  “By the time I get done, you won’t have to. I read a sword and sorcery book when I was a kid, where a warrior proclaimed this sage advice – ‘when told to go somewhere unarmed, it is best to be armed’. They can shove that two clip limit up their asses. We goin’ to party until Lo figures out a way to get us the hell out of here.”

  A sniper took our lull in firing as a time to pepper us from one of our outer buildings. We enjoyed solid cement on three sides of our rooftop, so the chances of assaulting our compound with anything less than a tank was not feasible. Our roost opened a small area of our LZ to small arms fire from surrounding structures, but gave us a thick cement wall for cover. Carl and I moved to varying places with our range finders until we located the sniper as he made irritating smashes into our abode. One nearly took Carl’s ear off. He flopped back down.

  “Did you spot him, Rick?”

  “Yep.” I moved down the way with my Barrett. I crouched for a moment, picturing my target with eyes shut. I entertained Carl with one of those low pitched hippie chanting hums as if I were in a yoga class. I then popped up, sighted, and blew the sniper’s rifle apart. He dropped on his back like a turtle in the desert, his bloody hands waving in the air. He didn’t like it much when I blew his foot off.

  “That wasn’t nice, Rick.” Carl grinned at me after checking the sniper out with his range finders. Our satellite phone beeped. Carl answered. “Lovely Sana’a, Yemen, Carl speaking from paradise.”

  I heard the cackle from where I was. Good… my favorite harpy had news. I heard a muffled comeback having to do with Carl’s parentage. He laughed and handed me the phone.

  “Hi, Lo. Guess what happened to our first short mission for the Company? You were right. We have outraged natives here, listen.” I held the Sat phone above the wall for a moment so she could hear the screamers. “I think they’d like to treat us to their usual compassionate handling.”

  “Damn it… I knew I shouldn’t have stayed in Riyadh. I’m coming to get you, Hooterville. Keep the kid alive until I conjure the forces of darkness.”

  “Working on it. How long?” It sounded like Lo was in an Indiana Jones bi-plane.

  “I’m trying not to shoot anyone right between the eyes while I get a flight to you, but it ain’t easy. The military is on lockdown while the assholes in DC try to do a Benghazi replay on you CIA loose ends. The Marines who escorted the staff from Sana’a want a piece, and I have a rogue operative with an old UH-1 Iroquois in Samtah with an extra fuel tank. We’re on our way to Samtah now, ETA three hours. Then it will be unknown from Samtah. I’ll have to make nice with some people in authority, or we’ll get shot down in Yemen air space. Van is working for at least air cover. We have a carrier in the Gulf of Aden.”

  “Do we know the rogue?”

  “Matt Bucher.”

  I laughed. “Money Matt? He’s going to cost us, huh?”

  “He wanted a hundred grand in advance, and fifty more if you’re alive when we return to Samtah.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me. Any chance of a drone strike?”

  “Sorry, Rick. The way I figure it, you and Carl will have to hold on for twenty-four hours. Good damn thing you loaded the medical trunk. I bet Carl was shocked.”

  “Yeah… he was a little surprised.”

  “Any plans on how to make it through the night?” Lo’s voice wavered a bit.

  “Remember Bangkok?”

  “Don’t you dare do a Bangkok you addle headed old shit!”

  I enjoyed the hell out of Lo’s order. “It worked well in Bangkok. Uh oh… we have some outraged Muslims arriving in a truck. Talk at you later, Lo.”

  “Don’t you-”

  I disconnected. Carl fired a few rounds as a pickup truck arrived, firing a thirty caliber machine gun from a homemade stand at us. Carl’s shots forced the new arrivals to find a replacement for the machine gunner. I took aim with the M32 as a new guy moved into position. My 40mm explosive grenade turned the moving machine gun nest into fiery ruin, complete with spraying the rats sneaking in around it with flaming debris – such a pretty sight. I spotted an Al Jazeera cameraman filming from what he thought was cover near a building. I put a round through his video camera. It mushed the camera, entered his shoulder, and tore a hunk of flesh away on its way through.

  “Oh boy…” Carl sunk down, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have done that, Rick. Al Jazeera is sacred to the world. No one may touch their holy minions.”

  “Whoops.”

  “I have to admit when they hooked me in with you and Lo, I thought someone took a disliking to me. If not for you and your trunk, I’d be dead.”

  “Wait until you see how Lo works the rescue, kid. She’ll fly a damn drone in here herself to provide cover.” I kept watch. The Islamic Jihad nutcakes studied my earlier shots, seeing I avoided their female burka shields. A crew of burkas were wailing out in the square, hands waving as they jitter-jived their way toward us. Heh… heh… “Carl, quit mourning the poor old Al Jazeera clown, and take a look at this. Check the third from the left Burka Babe’s hands.”

  Carl shifted to the barricade’s top with his range finders. “Those are the ugliest woman’s hands I’ve ever seen. Hairiest too.”

  “Oh look. The cutie is reaching down in the robes with those nasty hands.” I stitched the creep dead center with three from the Barrett. “Give me the M4, Carl.”

  Carl passed his M4 over, while enjoying the death of ugly hands inappropriately. I made the other witches do the dance of the seven veils with a well-placed clip at their feet. Four of the five danced around the dead costumed asshole posing as a woman, screaming, and then running for cover. The other one stood in place, rightly assuming I wasn’t trying to kill them. Then she moved to the dead guy in the burka. When she reached inside the dead guy’s robes, I blew a few of her fingers off. Oh… she wailed then, so I gave her something to wail about. I put a round through her foot too. Then I put a few shots where I figured the RPG launcher was hidden. It was an impressive explosion when the turd’s rounds went off. I’m afraid the wailer didn’t make it.

  “Damn Rick… I hope Lo gets us out of here, and you two can stay out of prison. I’ve been so pissed off since signing on with the Company, I’ve been thinking it was time to disappear. If I can work with you two, I’d reconsider.”

  “Gee, I don’t know, Carl.” I watched with grim amusement the reaction in the square toward my handiwork. “For one thing, you’re too young for prison, and we seem to always be in trouble. Lo and I became dangerously bored, and decided to try dipping our toes into the Company cesspool as consultants. See how well that worked out for us.”

  Carl scanned the square and surrounding area with serious intent. He again appeared to believe we might live through this adventure. “I read your files, Rick. You and Lo have been through some heavy shit in your day. It surprised the hell out of me when I reviewed your latest adventures as private investigators, including you having to kill two Mossad agents. Is that when you and Lo decided to sign on again?”

  I felt the familiar stab into my soul when I thought of Adina. “Yeah… it was a marker from my ignorant youth I paid for with pain. I like you too, kid. When you met with Lo and I at first, we figured someone decided to drop a touchy-feely mama’s boy on us as a test.”

  After some moments of appreciation over that ace, Carl settled into watching for our targets again. “Good one, Rick. What was that Bangkok reference? I heard Lo’s voice go int
o pissed off hyper-drive when you mentioned it.”

  “In the early nineties, Lo and I were ordered into Bangkok for info gathering on the Colima Cartel. The Cartel was establishing a methamphetamine base, funding a terrorist network in Thailand by the God’s Army bunch. We recognized within days we’d been hung out to dry. Everyone on our contact list was bought and paid for. We began plotting a way out when we were offered a bribe to snuff the investigation. We immediately agreed to it, because we weren’t sure if we’d be allowed out of the country alive. Our contacts asked for a meeting in the boonies outside Bangkok.”

  Carl waited for me to go on, but I was unsure that was a good idea. I liked the kid, but trust is a hard won commodity in this business. “C’mon Rick. We may not even live through the night. Tell me about Bangkok.”

  I kept watching the square. “We walked into a trap. Unfortunately for the Colima people, Lo and I had been in traps before. We killed without hesitation and without mercy, but then night came. They figured to get us as we hovered in fear. Heh… heh… that wasn’t happenin’. I left Lo to create a diversion. I jammed out into the surrounding jungle with explosive surprises we brought with us for an emergency – grenades. After crawling in the jungle for a three hour approach, I found their enclave. It was a spectacular bit of adlib mayhem, Carl. It gave us an opening so we could haul ass out of there with Lo on the thirty caliber machine gun we’d packed in our ‘trunk’ for the trip. I’m not sure how many civilians died that night, but Lo threw bursts into everything that moved while I drove.”

  Carl simply shook his head with a smile. “So what’s Lo’s objection to the application of the Bangkok formula for this scenario?”

  I sighed. “She thinks I’m past it… way past it if you know what I mean.”

  “I could do whatever the formula is for you, Rick. Give me some direction. I’ll get it done.”

  “While I appreciate your dedication, I think it would be best if you let me handle the Bangkok option on my own. It wouldn’t hurt to be on guard here, which is what Lo did during the first application. I’ll let you handle it next time… how’s that? If there is a next time. With you firing a round here and there from the Barrett, I’m sure you’ll attract enough attention to help me out.”