Hard Case V: Blood and Fear (A John Harding Novel Book 5) (30 page)

Clint wasted no time picking Lynn off the roadway. He slipped into the driver’s side rear compartment after Dannie held the door open, and closed it when he was inside with Lynn in his arms. She ran around to leap into the passenger side front. Maria turned around over the bodies of the men Lynn had killed, only then seeing a few lights coming on in the neighbors widely spaced properties. Clint called Denny while hugging Lynn to him. She relaxed against him, a weary lethargy stealing over her. When she heard Denny’s voice, she grabbed the iPhone from Clint.

“Spawn! I’m seven months pregnant, and I just killed two men. What did you do? Cleanup on aisle seven… and make it quick, or we’ll be the talk of the neighborhood.” Lynn didn’t listen for a reply. She gave the phone back. “Time for a nap.”

“Clint?”

“What she said, Denny. Two dead by my front door. Two more dead by her hand in the road. We’re on our way to the hospital. Lynn may be having a miscarriage. Can’t talk right now. Don’t let anyone enter my house. Tonto is on guard.”

“Got it, Clint. Call when you can, brother. Worry about nothing else.”

Clint put the phone away, watching Lynn fading. “Talk to me, babe. Chatter away, so I know you’re okay. You can nap in the hospital while doctors and nurses have you hooked to everything they have in the place.”

Lynn’s eyes opened wide suddenly. “Would…would you leave me if I lost Clint Jr?”

Clint swallowed the first sob he could remember since he was four years old as her question lanced through his mind, and right through his heart. “I love you more than life itself. I’m never leaving you… ever! Get that through your Cruella Deville head!”

“Okay then… maybe I’ll stick around.” Lynn began to drift again, but again became animated, clutching Clint’s hand. “Don’t you kill him to save me! You hear me? I…I’ll know, and we will be through. Give me your… word!”

Clint couldn’t speak. He tightened his jawline to the breaking point while not looking away from the only female he had ever loved. He stayed silent, with sobbing noises from Maria and Dannie plaguing the conversation. Lynn gave up all pretense of threat, tears streaming down her face.

“Please, Clint… please?”

“Okay, baby… you have my word,” Clint lied to her for the first time.

* * *

Clint, Maria, and Dannie huddled together. Lynn had been taken in for emergency Cesarean section surgery. From the moment they entered the hospital with Clint carrying Lynn in his arms, the doctors joined to Maria body and soul took over all aspects of her wellbeing immediately. It was the first time he could remember where threats or physical action could not help or change a situation, leaving Clint watching her taken away with his fists clenched at his sides. He signed what he was presented with for the surgery, Maria glaring at him as he refused to choose his unborn son’s life over Lynn’s. She knew better than to comment. Denny had made it plain to her Clint was easily one of the most dangerous men alive. At the time of the telling, Denny warned her to never take sides against him for any reason, and whatever she heard said or done concerning Clint to keep silent for eternity.

Clint sat with his fists clenched while leaning back in the waiting room chair staring into eternity. He pretended no comfort for his companions. In his world, he had friends he would die for, but in love he had only two: Lynn and Tonto. He believed in God, but he knew better than to ask for the life of a nearly psychopathic killer with only one more undeserving of life, he himself. Lynn’s constant shrugging declaration of ‘it is what it is’ singed his soul. In spite of it all, he began reciting prayers he knew from a Catholic childhood orphanage/foster care time. They helped rein in the beast prowling within his mind.

One of Maria’s obstetricians pranced toward them, all smiles. Clint shot out of his chair as if on a catapult, his approach startling the doctor to a halt. The searing look on Clint’s face made the woman who was delivering good news wish she had sent a nurse out in her stead. She took an involuntary step back, realizing on an elemental level the man rushing to confront her would snuff her life out without a second thought. She held up her hands in placating and urgently sincere fashion.

“Your…your wife and baby are fine. We have to keep the baby under constant care for now, but I believe he will survive. Thank God you got your wife here when you did.”

Clint covered his face with both hands, turning away. He stood there whispering words of thanks to a force beyond reasoning, or in his and Lynn’s case, beyond retribution. Maria and Dannie swarmed him happily, a group hug Clint was sure Lynn would have barfed at seeing.

Chapter Ten

Changes

I watched Denny’s face as we three listened to Clint’s call, and Denny responded. We were in a sniper’s nest facing Yuri’s property from the dense brush and trees across the way, awaiting Lucas and Casey. The three of us worked our way from nearly half a mile down the road, along the hillside dip, through the brush across from Kornev’s house. It had taken only moments to set my M107 into position. Until Clint called, we were busily using our range finders on the exposed targets guarding Yuri’s supposedly impregnable estate. There were only three lackadaisical simpletons pacing around while pretending to be observant. Inside the house, our infrared display off Denny’s tablet indicated four more people. After Clint’s call, Denny reached out to his own contacts. He stated what he needed, and then listened with growing displeasure.

“Listen! Do not speak anymore, Langstrom. You are a go between to filter unwanteds. If you want to become an unwanted, say anything other than yes sir, your will be done.”

Denny speaks the lingo well, because he now has a position to make nearly anyone through the chain of command up to the President take notice. In our circles, where we operate, Denny’s word means compliance or death, because the notoriety needed to stave off attacks on our home area have met with retaliation that could not be ignored. In our circles as well as our enemies’, my West Coast Avengers are feared and respected, depending on the intelligence level of people we have to interact with. The ones on our side never take anything for granted, especially our patience with dolts who screw with us. Denny disconnected after hearing what he wanted to hear.

“Frankly… I can’t afford to lose Crue. I’m willing to write you off in place of her, John.”

That drew muffled levity in a horrific situation we could do nothing about.

“I don’t speak grief well or empathy for that matter,” Denny went on. “Whatever they need will be done on my word no matter what the consequences. We may need that island of escape sooner than I had planned. We’re going to make a statement here after I find out where Christova probably went. There will be no needles or deals other than death. I’ve been ordered to take Kornev alive. That ain’t happenin’. He sent the team that put Lynn in the hospital. We don’t have three days in the desert on an anthill with his nuts covered in honey, so we’ll make do with what we have tonight. I don’t think we should wait for Lucas and Casey. The dead men over at Clint’s place might have managed to get a warning out. Do you have a problem with going in with us, Gus?”

Gus reached out to grasp Denny’s wrist. “I love Crue. She is the reason I am here with a family I may see share my good times, and the kids grow into adults with children. Any entity causing pain to my mentor will die by my hand or a hand I am supporting. Do not doubt me!”

“Well said,” Denny acknowledged. “Let’s get this shit done, and go see how our Crue is doing. I know John can ace these three cardboard cutups fronting Kornev’s house without a second breath. What would you like to do then, John?”

I had been thinking about speeding this intervention up, and the violent outlet of emotion ever since hearing Lynn tell us she’d killed two men while seven months pregnant, and asking what we’d done. “I think you’re right about not waiting. If you want to do this now, you and Gus should do a broad angle approach within about twenty yards of the entrance. Do it slow, while I monitor your success, or end any threat from the three gazebos watching the house. If you make it to your positions without my interference I will then take out the three guards, and charge the entrance from here. I will take that door down. Then it’s party time. If we can take Kornev for questioning, we’ll do it on the spot, and deliver his dead body to complete your orders, Den. I’m with you. No more leaks, and no more possibilities of leaks. No one walks away from here as players to be named later. For all we know, the Nigerian government is supplying info to Christova. Be aware of booby traps getting into position. Any bare areas of ground sprinkled with debris are suspect.”

“Absolutely. I like it,” Denny said. “Any questions, Gus?”

“I am ready. It is nice of them to light up the house front, is it not, John?”

I grinned because I was thinking the same thing. I didn’t even need my night-vision scope. It’s not that I faulted their logic. Anyone seeing armed guards in front of a house tend to go on down the road, looking for easier targets. The cops or neighbors might make some complaints about an armed compound to ATF or the FBI; but if the men are simply walking the perimeter without assault rifles, there wasn’t much the authorities could do about it besides harassment. “Yeah Gus, that is very nice of them. Go take over guarding my ramming assault path. I will be along shortly. Remember to fall in behind me. Even cement heads need backup.”

“We’ll double click when we’re in position,” Denny said, before mumbling, “John… you pussy.”

I assumed firing position with a slight chuckle. “Get moving. I have you covered.”

I didn’t bother watching them. I watched my targets. If they reacted they died now. If they didn’t react, they died in another minute or so. The .50 caliber payloads I had in the clip were capable of going through them and the house wall, but mine were machined to hit and pulp whatever I aimed at. If I missed my target, there would be a warning to the men inside as my missed shot smacked into the wall. I breathed evenly, index finger along the trigger guard while waiting. When I received two sets of clicks, I had not seen a single indication the three guards had heard anything. With no night-vision goggles, and the porch lights on, we could be assured they couldn’t see shit out in the darkness. I waited until one walked to the furthest end of the porch, looking around the corner of the house. I blew his head clean off.

To his cohorts I’m sure it appeared he tripped and fell over the railing. The second man nearest him actually laughed. He walked over to get a close-up laugh at his guard brother. He tripped over the railing too without his head. The third guy was no dummy. He went for the door, but never made it. His brains did though, along with pieces of his skull. As his body pitched against the entrance way, I was up and running. I had mapped out my approach, knowing exactly where to leap, and where to pump arms and legs.

It was a damn fast barricade smashing pace. When I hit that very impressive door, it held, but its frame died a gallant death, fragmenting into wood chips around it. Once through the door, I rolled to my left, drawing and providing cover fire for Denny and Gus to get inside with my .45 caliber Colt. To my surprise, Denny, Gus, Lucas, and Casey streaked through the door, fanning out. No one inside gave up. They had automatic weapons, so they died before they could use them. There were only three, a different count from the infrared reading. We searched the inside of the house in professional haste with our two additional assault team members. Then I heard a groan by the front.

“Hey guys, I think I know where our fourth culprit is,” I called out, moving to the entranceway framework, crashed onto the floor. I wasn’t stupid enough to lift the damn thing, and get a few rounds through every one of my appendages exposed. When my guys retreated around me, I pointed at the entranceway that was continuing to groan. “I think we have the rat we’ve been hearing squeaking.”

They all knelt where they could fire in the event the person under the entryway door planned on shooting in all directions. I heaved it off our mystery person, holding the entranceway in the air like a lean-to in the middle of the woods. My shooters first saw to my safety, and then dragged the prick out from under.

“Let it go, John,” Lucas said.

I dropped it. I saw with a big smile it was Kornev I’d drawn to the entryway. “Well hello, Yuri. You cannot believe how happy I am to see you. That poor arm of yours looks broken, booby. Let’s make sure, shall we?”

Yuri screamed like a girl scout with a vampire bat attached to her neck, and I hadn’t even touched him yet. I made shushing sounds while my entourage watched with grim anticipation. One of ours was hurt, and all were under threat of attack. When that happens, things get wild. You get to meet the monster squad few ever see, and none ever tell the tale of. When Kornev ran out of vocal power, turning his output into sobs, I knelt next to him with his clearly broken arm in my grasp. I didn’t go with fancy. I broke it, twisted it, and ripped it free of his body at the elbow joint. Yuri passed out, silence remained. The monster squad wasn’t here to listen to our own voices. Lucas handed me the propane torch he had in his bag. I threw Kornev’s detached hand and forearm off to the side. I fired the torch, and cauterized the stump, but kept the flame on. Casey threw water in Yuri’s face. He gagged, gasped, realized his predicament, and screamed again, his anguish heightened as he waved his stump, held in horror by his other hand.

I smashed him with a hammer fist in the face. “Hey! We’re not here to mourn your deformities, Yuri. We have questions, and we don’t have time for elaborate interrogation tactics or that pussy shit like water boarding. You get the torch. Want another demo after I rip your other arm off at the elbow?”