Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) (44 page)

Cindy grasped his warm hand. He put his other hand over hers. “Your hand is like ice. Is your car nearby?”

“It’s the Nissan over there by the curb,” Cindy managed to blurt out, trying to control the tremble in her voice. “Are… are you Nick?”

Nick McCarty put an arm around her, shielding some of the wind chill blowing in from the ocean. “Yep. I’m Nick. Why don’t we talk in your car with the heater on? I can tell you’re nervous. Don’t be. We’ll talk like two old friends, and then we’ll get to know each other, or part ways with a smile, okay?”

Cindy nodded without speaking, allowing Nick to guide her to the Nissan. She beeped open the locks. Nick opened her door and held it open until Cindy sat down in the driver’s seat. He closed it and went around the Nissan, quickly getting seated in the front passenger seat. Cindy started it, putting the heater on low blow. Nick smiled at her, his eyes direct and unblinking.

“Better?”

“Much,” Cindy replied. “Grace Stanwick is my aunt, Mr. McCarty. I went to her as a last resort. I… I didn’t know what to do. I thought as a US Marshal, Grace could help me get my daughter away from that cult she joined. My aunt said it wasn’t something she could do anything about unless approached by my daughter Kelly.”

“That is unfortunately how it works, Cindy. Grace told me your daughter called you secretly, begging you to get her out of there.” Nick’s eyes narrowed slightly, his facial features chilling into an uncaring mask. “You wouldn’t be making that up to get help, would you, Cindy?”

Cindy shook her head no violently. She reached over to clutch Nick’s hand. “No… never… Grace was my last hope. When she told me to be here at six o’clock at night to meet some novelist named Nick McCarty, I thought she had blown a fuse in her head.”

Nick chuckled, his face easing out of the grim featured tone he had been casting. “I’ve thought that a few times on a normal basis about your aunt. I’ve known her well over a decade, and she’s just as mental as I remember her from the first time we met. Your Uncle Tim is a saint to have stayed with her. That they pulled off remaining together as partners is a damn miracle.”

Hearing him speak so familiarly about her aunt and uncle stopped the trembling in her hand. Nick kept holding the hand with a light touch. “My aunt told me if you decided to get my daughter back to me there would be consequences and secrets that could never be shared with anyone. At first… I really thought she was nuts. I don’t read pulp fiction, but I know you’re one of the most famous authors in the world. You’ve sold millions of novels about an assassin named Diego. I asked her how a New York Times bestselling author could help me. I thought at first she meant you could buy Kelly out of the cult.”

Nick’s face darkened like a Midwest tornado forming on the horizon. “Sorry, I don’t work that way. I don’t much care if I could buy her out of there. I’m sure Grace explained that to you.”

“Yes,” Cindy acknowledged. “I… I didn’t mean it like that. I just couldn’t figure out how Grace thought you could help. She told me you don’t just write about Diego, you are Diego.”

Nick grinned, patting her hand. “Like I told my wife Rachel long ago – compared to me, Diego’s a campfire girl. I also have a few partners. I brought one with me. She may make you more comfortable.”

Nick’s hand went to his ear. “Hey Dagger, c’mon out here.” Nick laughed at something he heard before turning to Cindy. “She’ll be out in a second. My daughter Jean’s a little rough around the edges, but I’ll need her in on this.”

Cindy watched the gym door. A slim woman emerged, striding toward the Nissan with acrobatic grace. The parking lot lights flickered on her grim visage, the woman’s long blonde hair, tied at her neck tightly in the back. She wore a black windbreaker, and carried a small bag much like Nick’s. As she drew closer, Cindy thought she looked to be only a few inches shorter than Nick. She flung open the back door to the Nissan with suppressed anger, slamming it shut. Before she closed it, Cindy noticed the thin scar running from her right eye down to her ear, and another small one at the left corner of the woman’s mouth in the dome lights dim illumination.

The woman slapped the back of Nick’s head. “I told you to stop calling me Dagger… damn it!”

Nick chuckled. “Yeah… so what?”

To Cindy’s surprise she saw the grim woman grin before turning her attention to Cindy.

“Who’s the mark?”

“This is Cindy, Grace’s niece. Her daughter’s being held in a cult against her will. Cindy, this is my daughter Jean.”

Cindy shook hands with Jean, surprised at the strength she felt in the short grip. “You must work with your hands. They’re rough. It’s nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you too.” Jean didn’t comment on Cindy’s observation. “Let’s go over to the Monte, Dad. Mom’s working the night shift with Quinn. I’m starving.”

“I haven’t decided yet about Cindy’s problem.”

“I have,” Jean said. “Cindy’s okay. Let’s get her daughter back.”

Nick’s chin dropped to his chest, earning him another slap on the head.

“C’mon. What else do you have to do? This is for Grace and Tim. We owe them.”

“No we don’t.”

Jean patted Cindy’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back, Cindy. Dad’s a little slow on the uptake since turning fifty-seven. Don’t mind him. Do you know where the Monte Café is?”

“Yes. I’ve lived in Fremont all my life, but we visit down here all the time. The Monte Café is one of our favorite places to eat at. Has your Mom worked there a long time?”

“Nearly twenty years. My younger brother Quinn works with her now. He was practically raised there. Mom loves what she does, so she ignores the fact Dad has more money than God. You talk to my Dad and drive him over to the Monte. I’ll follow with our car.”

“Okay, Jean. Thank you.”

“You bet.” She grabbed Nick’s ear, shaking it slightly. “Say something, Muerto.”

“This is about me roughing you up, isn’t it?”

“Nope, but I am going to beat your old ass one of these days. I’ll call Uncle Gus, and Uncle John for a meeting. See you at the Monte.” Jean exited the car, and jogged over to a gleaming black sedan.

Cindy drove toward the Monte Café. “I like Jean. She must look like her Mom.”

“She does. Jean’s my step daughter, but closer than blood. Quinn is my son. Let’s talk about how your daughter entered the cult. Grace told me it’s an offshoot of those nut-cake Isis guys we finally almost exterminated. How the hell did she get introduced into a radical Muslim group like that?”

“Kelly met an intense young man in high school, named Javid Harandi. He invited her to their mosque. Kelly’s always been a wild one. I didn’t figure she would ever attend more than one meeting. They all stay at this ranch in Salinas, where they’ve converted the main building into their mosque. The outlying structures used to house farmhands, but now are part of their compound where families supposedly stay. Javid seemed like a nice kid. It wasn’t until too late I found out he didn’t attend school there.”

“He was recruiting.”

“Exactly. He was very good at it. Before I knew what was happening, Kelly was wearing long dresses and a hijab. The school began calling, accusing Kelly of disrupting classes. When I confronted her, she threw a fit about the school being unclean. She left in the night. I tried to get the police to intervene; but because she is eighteen, they couldn’t barge into that compound even though she hasn’t graduated. Can you get her back, Nick?”

“How did she get word to you she wanted out?”

“They get deliveries there from UPS, among others. Kelly snuck a note to the UPS driver. He was nice enough to call me. You keep avoiding the question.”

“I’m gathering information. I don’t know if I can get her out. I’ll talk it over with my partners. Jean’s having them meet us for dinner. We may have to scout the place first. For one thing, we don’t know where she would be.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I thought you could do,” Cindy replied. “I hope you can figure some way to help. You’re my last chance.”

* * *

At the café, two men sat together at a place where two tables had been pushed together. There were no other customers. Jean led the way in with Nick and Cindy following. Jean hugged a tall young man with an apron on.

“Hi, Sis. I heard you have a meeting planned. Am I invited?”

“Sure, if you want to make Mom’s head explode,” Jean said, echoing the same words Nick used when Jean asked to be let in on missions. She smiled as her Mom appeared with a tray of appetizers, glaring at Jean. “Hi Mom.”

“I heard what’s going on,” Rachel said, serving the appetizer tray in front of the two amused men. She pointed a finger at them. “Don’t you two start either.”

As if prearranged, both men made lip zipping motions in sync. Nick hugged his wife. “Is Quinn torturing you again with Jean’s help?”

Rachel framed her husband’s face with her hands. “Yes, and I blame you.”

Nick kissed her, eliciting quick ‘get a room’ remarks. “I’m always to blame. This is Cindy Brighton, Grace and Tim’s niece. Her daughter Kelly’s being held by a Muslim cult offshoot of Isis. What do they call it now?”

“Javid said they are of the Daesh sect of Islam,” Cindy answered.

“That’s the French word they created to be politically correct overseas. It means the same thing: Isis, Isil, Daesh – all the same.”

“That’s John Groves,” Nick said, holding onto Rachel. “Gus Nason is next to him. The young man is Quinn McCarty. Last and certainly not least is my lovely wife, Rachel.”

The others waved, but Rachel shook her hand. “I’m sorry about your daughter. Mine has decided to follow in the footsteps of her Dad, where she received those lovely scars infiltrating a nest of shitheads much like the ones holding Kelly. Nick, Gus, and John barely arrived in time to keep the bastards from slitting her throat. Don’t worry, she’s much more careful now, right darling?”

Jean absorbed the amused laughter in good spirits. “Thank you for the history lesson, Mom. I didn’t do what I was told, and I paid the price.”

“She could have the scars fixed surgically,” Cindy said. “They do wonders with plastic surgery now. It would practically be an outpatient procedure.”

“Nope. Not doing it,” Jean said, as Rachel did an eye roll to the heavens. “When I wake in the morning, and see my face, I know not to do something stupid again.”

“Let’s eat while Rachel busts our chops,” Gus said, digging into the appetizers. “Sit down Nick. John and I have some news about the Daesh bunch. We read in Paul on the way over. He’s backing our play if we decide to help. Apparently, they’re already on the radar.”

Nick sat down after holding a chair out for Cindy. Jean sat down next to her. Rachel brought over the coffee pot and filled the cups while Quinn replenished the finger foods. “It’s damn nice the CIA director still takes our calls.”

“He never forgets how he got there,” Jean said.

“You mean Paul Gilbrech, the actual Director of the CIA?”

“Keep that between us, Cindy,” Nick said. “Paul likes us. We’ve worked together many years, since before Quinn was born. We have a habit of attracting cases involving Homeland Security. We’re legal though. We consult with the FBI, DOJ, and US Marshals. I originally made contact with the US Marshals through Grace and Tim.”

Cindy waited for Nick to go on, but he began eating as did the others. Rachel patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I can see it in their faces. They’ll be going after Kelly.”

“I want to go with them,” Quinn announced. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. I’ve been trained since I was old enough to walk.”

“Jean didn’t work with your Dad until she finished her stint in the Marines,” Rachel countered. “She’ll be graduating college this year if she’s still alive.”

The last part of her statement drew laughter from everyone, including Jean.

After the meal, John showed the satellite footage of the Daesh compound. “It will be easy to recon the place. I am not sure how easy it will be to find out where Kelly is.”

“You and I will have to go in, Uncle John,” Jean said. “We’ll gain admittance, while Uncle Gus and Dad watch our six until we locate her.”

“I already spotted a perfect nest,” Nick said, pointing at the fixed screen. “I’ll have full range on everyone in the compound. They probably don’t even know about the advances in sniper rifles, at least not on our level of clearance. I like Jean’s idea. She speaks Arabic like a native. John will have to bluff into the place, but since he’s a believer, it shouldn’t be a problem. I need Gus to be the wheel man. That leaves Quinn to spot for me, because we have quite a distance to be safe.”

“I’ll spot for you,” Rachel said. “I don’t want Quinn in the mix.”

“You come too, then. Quinn spots, but a second set of eyes in this case is a good thing.”

“I hate you.”

“You always say that, Rach. In or out, baby. You can bring your new Colt to watch over our poor son.”

“Fine, but this op better work exactly the way you plan, or I might use my new Colt on you. I’m closing. C’mon, Quinn, let’s get doing what real workers do.”

Jean followed her Mom. “I’ll help, so we can go home, and sit on the deck together.”

“You guys in for a little deck time,” Nick asked. “Bring the wives and kids of course.”