Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) (29 page)

“Put it together for me, and I’ll sell Irene on breaking down the two in custody,” Grace said. “I don’t think she’s an idiot. She only acts like one occasionally. Do you-”

“Oh goody,” Nick interrupted. “We have a winner: Jacob Kerns, head of Patrol Team Eight. They do a little of everything. Best of all, they’re the liaisons to federal outfits, including the US Marshals. I think it’s time to brief the head office, Timmy. I can see many instances where a federal investigation can be fogged over by the guy in charge of Patrol Eight. Meanwhile, I’ll do a nice workup for Grace to follow through with Irene, while I do an unauthorized check of Jacob’s financials so we have a head start.”

“Now wait a minute, Flash.” Grace’s mouth had been dropping open a millimeter at a time as she listened to Nick. “We can’t take something like this to DOJ. If this Kerns guy covers his ass, I’ll be warding Timmy off my bare ass in the breeze.”

“I doubt it would be Timmy being warded off once your bare ass did hit the breeze,” Nick replied. “This makes it a definite federal case, involving the US Marshals.”

“He’s right, partner,” Tim agreed. “This department head in charge of liaisons with federal task forces and agencies called into Charleston makes this a federal case. I’ll get DOJ on board for a looksee, in case the Lieutenant gets cold feet. We have to run with this, even if you have to snatch it out of Irene’s hands.”

Grace sunk into a chair, putting her head in her hands with elbows on the desk in front of her. “You hot dogs are killing me. Didn’t we already have enough on our plate, Tim?”

“I hear the violins playing, Tim,” Nick inserted. “Best talk sense into Grace before the whole orchestra joins in.”

Grace popped herself on the forehead and stood. “Never mind… never mind… I’m in. Let’s get ‘er done.”

“Neato,” Nick replied. “You do look a little like that ‘Larry the Cable Guy’.”

Tim grabbed Grace before she launched a full out attack with Nick comically hiding under the desk.

“Can I please mention another plan which will be highly dangerous, but very incriminating? It’s one of those plans you two hate. They sound like shit, and often are, but they work. It will possibly mean a lot more notoriety for me, and the US Marshal’s Service though, which I’m not thinking is a bad thing anymore.”

“Spill it,” Grace ordered.

“We’ll put together the initial package for Moragado, along with sweating the two in custody. Then, we’ll hint I’m staying late, working on a last thread of damning evidence, and I’m not trusting it to anyone outside the US Marshal’s Service. The Lieutenant passes the word to all Patrol Team heads, especially Jacob Kerns. I’ll wear a cam so we can record the video of my hoped for confrontation.”

“Oh… my… God… you’re planning to shoot an ambush party who already knows you’re coming?” Grace gave up all pretention of rage, standing with arms hanging at her sides. “How do you know they won’t simply shoot you in the head as you walk out the door?”

“A hunch,” Nick admitted. “They’ll want to make certain I have the damning threat info on me.”

“I love this plan.” Grace immediately jumped on board. “Either you get the bad guys on video, or the bad guys get you on video. It’s a win/win situation for us.”

“I didn’t say anything about bad guys getting me,” Nick pointed out, figuring what Grace was baiting him for.

“Some of us still have hopes and dreams, Nick.”

“Okay for you, Larry.”

* * *

Nick didn’t leave the assigned office until nearly midnight, calling Gus to make sure he had someone watching his loved ones. He knew Rachel capable of killing, but Gus would not hesitate to fire, no matter the situation. Although he loved tying in facts on a case, linking threads no one else noticed, Nick held little regard for bringing bad guys to justice in a court. If his ploy today worked a little of both would happen. Tim pointed out the fact his hunch about them not shooting him on sight was in fact a valid one. Nick believed they would want to know if he had stored the evidence somewhere at the station, or brought it with him. He carried his satellite linked laptop with him in his left hand, and easy access to his .45 caliber Colt to his right hand. Someday, Nick figured his quirky side would get him killed, but he never wanted to die in a bed anyway.

Enjoying the cooling night air with partially cloudy skies. Although muggy, his Kevlar vest did not make him uncomfortable. Having been in many gun battles, both in combat and his chosen profession, Nick understood people in combat situations. They jerked the trigger, hesitated, or even closed their eyes when they shot, hoping they were shooting ‘smart’ bullets. That was the real risk in his plan. If they sent pros after him, instead of men who only thought they were dangerous, the confrontation would be tricky at best, deadly at worst. It would be deadly for the men facing him.

Nick chose to throw them off a bit by simply walking away from the station to nearby Joseph P Riley Ballpark practically across from the station on Fishburne Street. The tree lined sidewalk was wide and scenic with lighting. Nick planned to stop in front as if he were waiting for a taxi. He would have clear line of sight in either direction. Nick walked to the section where a large patio with small partitioning fence separated the patio from Fishburne Street. He stopped in the patio relief area at the middle fence.

The deadly anticipation flowed within him. Nick shared nothing with his loved ones or his partner Gus about the psychopathic thrill his taking of a human life sparked within him. Most of his contract killings and assassinations involved intricate planning so as to avoid exactly what he reveled in doing now. Only a slight twinge of regret darkened his upbeat moment – thinking of Jean believing he was a superhero, when in reality he was a cold blooded killer without pier or conscience.

He enjoyed the fact he was the best of the best at what he did, without remorse or pretense. The downside he considered more and more after collecting a family was their probable risk, and the fact he could kill anything without hesitation, honor, or testimony. Although Nick could pretend anything with believability, the moral code had seeped into his consciousness from Rachel. She had the illusionary foresight of wondering what even Nick could afford to accomplish without direction or conscience.

Nick didn’t wait long. A Ford van drove alongside the fence. Nick dropped his left foot back as three men disembarked quickly, including the driver. Nick smiled. The men clustered together at the van’s side, facing him. A pro hit team would have split away from each other, making more difficult targets. They were all six feet or over, husky built, wearing jeans and black windbreakers. Nick figured they were wearing Kevlar too. With hands empty of weapons, it appeared to Nick his greeting party was confident he would simply do anything they asked. The driver spoke first.

“Get in the van, McCarty. We need to talk with you about your investigation.”

“Sorry, but I’m not allowed to discuss it with anyone,” Nick replied, as if he were answering a serious question. “Who are you guys anyway?”

“People you don’t want to mess around with. That wasn’t a request. Get in the fuckin’ van or we’ll put you in it!”

“Uh… no,” Nick answered bluntly.

“You must have yourself confused with that assassin character you write about in your novels, funnyman.” The driver began to reach inside his windbreaker.

“Don’t do it,” Nick warned. “You’ve made a couple errors already. Don’t compound your bad moves.”

The three men chuckled at Nick’s statement.

“What errors, funnyman,” the driver asked.

“The first error is you idiots bunched together to face me, and the second error is you brought shooters not killers,” Nick explained. “If you draw your weapon, I will maim all three of you for life. If you three surrender, I’ll let Lieutenant Moragado know you came along peacefully, and want to cooperate.”

This time the driver reached, along with his two companions. They made it as far as a hand inside their coats when Nick’s .45 caliber hollow points pulped the right knee of each man, the force tearing the men from their feet into three screaming, writhing piles on the roadside. Nick watched them for a moment, momentarily thinking of junking his plan, and shooting all three in the head.

“Don’t do it, Nick!”

Nick remembered the cam recording the confrontation with audio. “Do what, Grace. Calm down. Better get some EMT’s here in a hurry. These boys are screaming loud enough to wake the dead. Now shut up while I disarm the casualties.”

Nick kept his Colt trained on the living bundles of agony while stepping over the short fence barrier. “I told you not to reach for a weapon, Bambi, but no, you had to pretend you were the big bad wolf. Now look at you.”

When he was certain the men were incapable of reaching for anything dangerous, Nick put on his Nitrile gloves. He quickly and efficiently stripped the men of their weapons, but left the search for ID’s and other paraphernalia to the locals. Grace, Tim, and Lieutenant Moragado drove in front of the van, parking while Nick finished with his weapon confiscation. Moragado stalked to Nick’s side as he bagged the last weapon, reaching for his shoulder. Grace grabbed her wrist from behind.

“Don’t grab him, Irene! Let Nick finish. Then you can say whatever stupid thing you have in mind.”

Moragado pulled away from Grace’s grasp angrily, but didn’t touch Nick again. “He just maimed three suspects!”

Grace moved in close to Moragado, gripping her shirt front. “Listen, you’re making a damn fool out of yourself! If Nick wanted them dead, they’d all have a third eye. He kept them alive while making sure they didn’t kill him. What the hell was he supposed to do, you ditz?”

Grace’s stinging retort stopped Moragado, as Tim broke in. “Grace is right, and you know it, Lieutenant. Nick faced down three men wanting to kill him, and take his documentation. He’s proved our theory about an upper level guy, probably Kerns. Did you get a car watching his house as Nick asked?”

“Yes, damn it! I did as super detective McCarty directed. If Kerns tries to scramble after hearing what’s happened, we’ll be right on his tail.”

The sirens from approaching EMT vehicles screamed out in the otherwise quiet night. Their flashing beacons could be seen now, approaching on Fishburne Street. Nick joined his standing law enforcement companions in good humor. He had been listening to the exchange with much amusement while bagging weapons. Nick stayed quiet because Moragado saw him walking to them, and put a clamp on her poorly thought out comments.

“What did you think? Pretty good, huh. Three live perps, video proof they went for their weapons, and you know damn well their phone records will show Kerns tipping them off. He may have used a burner phone, but I’ll wager we can triangulate that prick’s whereabouts while the call was engaged. These three will be on hand to help. Best start interrogating them on the way to the hospital, Lieutenant. They may let something slip you can use on Kerns.”

“Maybe you’d like to ride along with one of your victims, and torture the info out of him,” Moragado replied with venom dripping from each word. “I’m sure you’d get Kerns’ name out of whoever you ride with.”

“Fine with me. I’ll keep wearing my cam, and I’ll talk with one of the screamers. Kerns’ name may very well be gathered from my interrogation technique, which will not be torture. Say the word, and I’ll be happy to do a ride along to the hospital.”

Moragado poked a finger at Nick’s chest. “You arrogant bastard! Fine! Ride with one of them. I want Marshal Reinhold riding with you though. Is that clear?”

“Sure,” Nick agreed. “Tim knows I don’t have to torture anyone. Right, Tim?”

“Absolutely,” Tim responded, using one of Nick’s buzzwords from long ago.

“I think you should accompany the Lieutenant to the station, Grace. Be certain she doesn’t make any errors in judgment while using these three fellows’ ID’s to garner lucrative information from the system, crosschecked with known phone calls in the area.”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Moragado went after Nick, but Grace was ready. She grabbed Moragado’s right wrist, bending it into a debilitating wrist hold, stopping Moragado in her tracks.

“I swear to God I will bring you up on federal charges if you make one more physical attack on Marshal McCarty, or insult him with your childish crap while he’s doing his best to nail this case shut.”

Grace released her, pushing Moragado to the side. “You… arrest me? You must have delusions of grandeur, Stanwick!”

“Try me, bitch!” Grace took out her cell-phone. “I have a direct line to the Attorney General. I will have your overly sensitive ass in cuffs within ten minutes. I don’t know what it is with this hard-on you have for Nick, but it ends now! Go ahead. Call my bluff.”

“Do what you want.” Moragado spun on her heel and walked across to the station.

Grace steamed on, nearly taking a running step toward Moragado. Instead, she shrugged it off as the blaring EMT vehicles arrived, disgorging two medical teams. Tim went to meet them, directing the techs to the injured men.

“I wish that bitch would have tested me. I talked to the AG earlier about this situation. He wants what’s happening here stopped. Although I know Moragado doesn’t have anything to do with the cop killing ambush, or tipoffs coming from Kerns and Brandt, she’s shooting her mouth off at every turn.”

“Take the car, and shadow her, Grace,” Nick urged. “Be professional, and keep your temper in check. Tim will go with me as she asked. I’ll get one of them to roll over on Kerns. The driver is my target. Once the EMT’s get them stabilized with pain killers, I’ll have Tim Mirandize the one we ride with. I’ll question the driver first.”