Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding) Read online

  “Okay, T. See you tonight.” I joined my family in the nursery. Kade ran over to me.

  “Dad… Al wants to show me how she shoots the bow and arrow. She says you’re really good at it too.”

  “We can do that.”

  Lora followed us into our huge gym we fixed for training. It had a gun range with accommodations for bow and arrow. In moments, Al displayed her growing skill level by hitting within the center three circles with all ten of her shots at fifty yards.

  “You shoot good!” Kade turned to me. “Could I shoot at the target?”

  “We have my smaller bow, Dad,” Al said. “He could learn from ten or fifteen yards. You have adjustable arm straps, so he doesn’t bang his arm.”

  Lora shook her head negatively, but I didn’t see the harm in letting the boy try it. “Okay… but you need to follow all the safety rules I will explain to you.”

  I helped get him set at fifteen yards because Kade had no trouble drawing the bowstring on the smaller bow. He listened intently to my safety instructions which are much like the cautions when firing at the gun range. Kade used the aiming technique and release perfectly. All his shots hit the target with the eighth one hitting the bullseye. He wanted to celebrate but remembered not to turn away from the target without putting the weapon down on the table I had moved into place. Instead, Kade fired his remaining shots into the center three circles before placing the bow on the table. He impressed the hell out of the rest of us.

  “How can a three-and-a half-year old do that?” Lora hugged the proud Kade.

  “Sometimes, when a kid is raised by wolves, strength, cunning and concentration increase at amazing rates to enable them to survive.”

  Kade and Al did target practice for the next forty-five minutes before changing to throwing knives – a much more difficult learning curve. I could tell Al had been practicing, trying to attain Jean and Sonny’s skill level. She could now throw with both hands. Kade watched Al’s technique without interrupting, which for a kid his age, showed patience and determination. He didn’t become agitated when it was his turn and he couldn’t get the feel for throwing. Al pointed out little things in his stance and release. Kade began piercing the target one out of five times. It may not have been the ideal time spent with young children in the eyes of another adult, but Kade and Al had a blast. I could tell Lora enjoyed watching the kids.

  My iPhone pinged. Nick in his El Muerto costume popped into view on the screen. “Hi, Nick. Kade and Al have been practicing with the bow and arrow, along with throwing knives. They did great.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when Quinn gets to be Kade’s age. I’m in DC on a case we discussed in Vegas with Bad Penny and my crew. I have a couple of items to repair. Is there anything you need taken care of here?”

  “Yeah… can you wipe out all the New World Order looney-tunes in the three branches of government while you’re there.”

  Nick enjoyed that remark. “Would if I could. I will be back for Halloween. Think about where you’ll want me and the Unholies on election night.”

  “Will do, brother. Bring back Bad Penny Chardin in one piece. Want to go trick-or-treating in the North Bay with our gang of kids?”

  “Sounds good to me. If you think of any loose end you need tied in DC, call me.”

  “Thanks, Nick.” I turned to Lora. “Muerto’s in DC.”

  “God help them.”

  “That’s just mean, Lora,” Nick called out.

  Chapter Four

  Rumble in DC

  “This arrest of Matthew Murray in the Strickland’s home seems a little invasive,” Gus said. “Do they know what you have planned?”

  “I’ll be singing at the party. When Murray arrives, we’ll let him have a drink or two. Then, I’ll ask Matt if I could talk in private with him in the hallway. You guys join me for an easy arrest and take him to Tim and Grace. I will entertain at the party. This is the easy part. The gangbangers, imprisoned Leila Rackson-Gree keeps harassing the Stricklands with, need to be handled in quiet but deadly form.”

  “We will be sitting ducks escorting the Stricklands everywhere,” Jian said. “I did not get a look at your research, Payaso. How many gangbangers are there, messing with the Stricklands?”

  “Six,” Gus answered.

  “They’re holed up in Brentwood in a tenement building,” Nick added. “Their orders are to plague the Stricklands until they recant and cast doubt on Rackson-Gree’s plea deal. I misjudged the situation. I figured the Illuminati would abandon Rackson-Gree, which they did. I discounted all the ill-gotten gains she has squirreled away to pay for this gambit. We would need to blow Brentwood into small pieces getting at the gangbangers.”

  Chardin was the first to speak. “How do the Stricklands feel about being bait?”

  “With the baby on the way… not too good, but they trust me, and they don’t want to leave DC. Their careers are booming right now because they can be relied on. I’ve spotted the lookout who keeps tabs on them. Bad Penny and I will nab him when the Stricklands go for a walk tomorrow morning after he phones it in. I know how goofy this sounds but we may be able to nail these pricks without alerting all of DC. We have silencers, tarps and rented vans. I know a place along Route 33 to deposit our gangbangers.”

  “Oh crap! Not another burial detail?” Jian groused.

  “We don’t have an ocean to deposit them in, Dragon breath,” Nick replied. “We need to make-due and get ‘er done. I have Jafar on alert tracing Rackson-Gree’s financial action. Stripping her of all financial aid will keep the Stricklands safe.”

  “I do hate operating in DC,” Johnny said. “We are like strangers in a strange land with enemies on all sides. These people routinely go to work here, legislating to destroy America.”

  Nick shrugged. “Well said. We need to concentrate on correcting this particular situation. We may not be able to cure DC of all its treasonous ills; but we can protect some valuable assets and screw over one of the enemy idiots.”

  Nick looked at his watch. “Time for me to go do my entertainment gig. We have communications ready. I will check it on the way down the hall. Any problems… let me know, Johnny.”

  “Of course. You look good once again in your uniform.”

  “I thought it best to maintain an identity the Stricklands’ friends recognize. Many of their friends know me from when I first infiltrated the Stricklands’ positions with Rackson-Gree. Talk with you in the hall.”

  Nick left his friends in their suite. He tested the connection in a whisper. “How is it?”

  “Very good, even in a whisper,” Gus replied.

  Nick knocked on the door of the Stricklands’ suite. Pam answered within seconds. She hugged Nick and held him at arms-length. “Green beret and all… wow… you look good, Nick.”

  “So, do you. I bet the baby is kickin’ like crazy.”

  “Sure is. I’m glad even the pediatric doctors admit a glass or two of wine won’t hurt anything. Come in. I’m glad you came early. You can be playing and singing when your target arrives.”

  Nick followed Pam into their place where Eric Strickland rushed over to shake hands. “God… Nick… I’m glad to see you. It was damn difficult not to invade your room before. It’s great to have you here.”

  “I’ll play, sing, and we’ll have a great time. I will take Murray without any disturbance. I know he’s not married. Do you think he will be bringing a plus one?”

  “Possibly,” Eric answered. “We’ve only met him at larger DC parties. I was a little surprised he RSVP’d our invitation. He doesn’t really know us. Pam and I figured curiosity about our dealings with Rackson-Gree enticed him into agreeing to come.”

  “I believe you’re right,” Nick agreed. “I’ll have a beer and start warming up the piano. I want to be entertaining when your guests arrive.”

  “Excellent! We’ve missed you, Nick,” Pam told him. “I wish this wasn’t under dangerous circumstances.”

  “Don’t give it a thought. I
have my team with me. We will handle the threat. I know having gangbangers getting into your faces out of nowhere, spouting crap about recanting your testimony, must be intimidating and terrifying. We will end the threat and Rackson-Gree’s ability to pay for it.”

  “That would be great, Nick. I admit we’re addicted to the DC political sphere,” Pam said. “We shouldn’t be, but we know how this city works. There are excellent schools in the area too, along with many other assets for a family with… well… ah…”

  “Money,” Nick finished for her. “You don’t need to be ashamed of making money, Pam, and being in a good place in your life. Quit letting the leftist idiots in this town rain on your professional successes.”

  “It’s true! I go around all day hearing and reading about successful people being to blame for everything on earth,” Eric replied. “Without successful people, there would be no jobs, no tax revenue, no welfare and no food.”

  “I better get entertaining before we all go on the warpath.”

  Eric grinned. “I’ll bring your beer over.”

  Nick stowed his beret. He had gotten another buzz cut, leaving only an oval on top with stubble, so he would look every bit a Delta Force major. Because no one had arrived yet, Nick played Ride of the Valkyries with a big smile and a wish he had Joan accompanying him on violin. Eric delivered the beer, but stayed near Nick, listening through to the end.

  “You, Sir, are the most mystifying deadly killer imaginable.”

  “Thanks… I think.”

  Eric patted Nick’s shoulder. “It was most definitely a compliment. Many of the people you entertained at our other party will be here. Our friends didn’t desert us over the Rackson-Gree trial. We explained who you are, and why you used the name Al Gibbons. They loved the undercover aspect, including your real-life professions – New York Times Bestselling author and Deputy US Marshal. Add to it you are in reality a Delta Force major and you achieve the mystifying description with bells on. You will return to the party after busting Matt… won’t you?”

  “Yes. I promised all night entertainment if you and Pam would help me with Murray. Thanks for taking care of the explanations. Murray probably knows who I am. Once he arrives, Murray may run for it when he sees me. My crew will be waiting.”

  Nick continued playing classical music until guests began arriving. Gus checked in with him, confirming the network was loud and clear. Nick had built his repertoire of songs with memory tricks and knack for absorbing new tunes over the past year, enabling him to play for nearly an entire evening without a repeat. He smiled and nodded at Zhang Liang, who brought a date with him. Zhang had thought to play an insult game with Nick, speaking Mandarin Chinese, only to have Nick reply in the same language with a threat to rip out his entrails and shove them down his throat. Zhang walked over with his date.

  “Major White-eye, I am sorry I ran out on you at the last party. This is Emily Lee, my fiancé. I explained who you are.”

  Nick stood and shook hands with the couple. “I am pleased to meet you. I see you have Paris in Darkness with you. Did you want me to sign it?”

  Emily handed him the hardbound novel with a pen. “Yes… please… I have read all your Diego novels, Nick. I am happy you did not kill off Fatima. Her plots against Diego are very funny.”

  Nick signed the book with a personal note and handed it and the pen back to Emily. “Thank you. I enjoy writing and meeting people who like Pulp Fiction. I better start playing again. Is there anything either of you would like to hear?”

  “Do you know Layla?”

  “I sure do, Zhang.” Nick sat down on the piano bench.

  He played the song in the slowed jazz version. All the new arrivals slow-danced to the tune. Nick launched into a slow version of the Kris Kristofferson song, Loving Her Was Easier (Than Anything I’ll Ever Do Again). Nick recognized many of the guests, including a couple of guys he had to get physical with: Tony and his friend, Ted. They had waved at him while dancing with their wives, so he figured they weren’t nursing grudges. A half hour into Nick’s entertainment segment, Matthew Murray arrived, smiling at everyone until he caught sight of Nick. He ran for it.

  “He’s running, Gus!”

  “We have him,” Gus replied. “I guess you can stay where you are. We’ll hand him over to Tim and Grace right now. Play as long as you like. We’ll handle documenting the transfer and Miranda rights. I called Tim. They’re waiting at the DOJ for us.”

  “Thanks, Gus… I didn’t need to do anything.”

  “The old Muerto charm works every time.”

  Nick turned to his audience. “Sorry about that.”

  “I know the guy who ran out of here,” Tony said. “He works as a lawyer at the DOJ. Why did he run when he saw you?”

  “Matthew Murray set up two of my fellow Deputy US Marshals to be killed during a prisoner transport. The Attorney General didn’t want Murray taken into custody in the office. Also… Murray employs armed guards at his gated mansion in Georgetown. The AG wanted to avoid an armed confrontation at all costs. Eric and Pam were nice enough to help me by inviting Murray to the party. My special unit of Deputy US Marshals awaited Murray’s arrival. He is in custody.”

  “It seems like a cheap trick,” Tony stated.

  “Murray is under arrest for attempted murder of two federal officers and huge financial misconduct, feeding information to drug cartels. We took him into custody without casualties. That is how the AG wanted it done. I’m here to entertain. How about some Motown instead of discussing crooks?”

  Nick heard a smattering of agreeable applause and sat down immediately to play I Heard It Through The Grapevine, which drew some amusement.

  An hour later, in between songs, Gus acknowledged the transfer of Murray at the DOJ offices. “We’ll keep you on speaker and listen.”

  “That’ll work.” Nick began his Four Tops songs with I Can’t Help Myself.

  * * *

  A beautiful, raven haired woman entered the Stricklands’ place, wearing a thigh high, black dress with vee opening from shoulders to below the waist at the back. It clung to her like a second skin. Pam greeted her with a hug. “So nice of you to come, Serena!”

  “I would have been here sooner if I’d known you had live entertainment. Who in the world is that?”

  “Major Nicholas McCarty, Delta Force reserves, Deputy US Marshal, best selling author, and the guy who saved our asses from Rackson-Gree,” Pam answered.

  “Oh my! I want him. I’m taking Nicholas home with me.”

  “He’s married with children.”

  “Is the wife here?” Serena asked.

  “No… but he doesn’t fool around on his wife… trust me,” Pam replied.

  Serena smiled. “You let me worry about that, girlfriend. When will he be taking a break?”

  “He’s been playing for an hour straight… so, I think pretty soon. I’ll introduce you. He’ll be polite but he’s not a player.”

  “Let me get a martini from Eric while I relax and listen to the piano-man. God… he looks wonderful in that uniform.”

  Pam leaned in close. “Listen to me. The man is a stone-cold killer. Rackson-Gree’s men tried to machinegun us down in the street. Nick killed all three without a second’s hesitation. I met his wife, Rachel. You do not want to cross that woman. I smarted off to her. She nearly yanked my arm off and told me I’m the only woman who can partner with the most dangerous man on the planet. I believe her. So, does Nick.”

  Serena patted Pam’s hand while Eric delivered her martini. “We’ll see. Don’t worry… I won’t hurt him.”

  Eric and Pam exchanged helpless looks. Eric tried to explain. “Nick exists on another plane, Serena. He won’t hurt you, but he won’t play with you either. I thought you were bringing Hank with you.”

  Serena shrugged. “I’m bored with Hank. I’m certainly glad I didn’t bring him tonight. You two don’t mind if I flirt a bit with Nick… do you?”

  “I guess not,” Eric replied.
/>   Nick finished his set with Baby I Need Your Lovin’ and stood away from the piano. “I’m having a beer. I’ll be back.”

  Everyone in the room applauded, including Tony. Nick noticed Serena at the bar and the look she gave him. He sat on the other side of Pam. “Dos Equis please, Eric.”

  Eric served it. “You were incredible as usual, Nick. You didn’t even need to beat up Tony.”

  Nick chuckled, obviously remembering the incident. “A simple misunderstanding.”

  “He tried to sucker punch you. Tony did not fare too well in that exchange,” Eric said. “When you side-kicked Ted on his ass for intervening, I think it put a whole new light on our party. Then, you started playing piano and singing. With all the languages you speak, I doubt you could be any more intimidating.”

  Serena moved over next to Nick. “Do you speak Italian?”

  Nick drank a quarter of his beer as he heard the Unholies giving him a hard time. He answered her question in Italian. “I do speak Italian. I believe it and French are my favorite sounding languages.”

  Nick’s fluid Italian surprised Serena. She clutched his free hand. “You are amazing. I want to know you better.”

  Nick continued the conversation in Italian. “I am happy to talk with you, but I am married to Rachel, the only woman I have ever really loved.”

  “Perhaps you do not know how formidable I can be.”

  “Rachel has spotted for me with rangefinders while I killed a host of men. She also backed my play when assassins assaulted our home. Rachel fires expert with an M107, fifty caliber sniper-rifle. I would say I know how formidable Rachel has proven to be.”

  Eric and Pam, who knew enough Italian to get the drift, turned away in amusement as Serena’s features registered shock. “You two are assassins?”

  “We protect people.” Nick listened to the verbal abuse raining down on him from his cohorts in the next apartment, warning him about what will happen when Rachel learns of his party night.

  Serena leaned in close, whispering, “I think we could be very good for each other. When you visit DC, you can stay with me. Your Rachel will not care.”