Devlin's Defiance: Book Two of the Devlin Quatrology (47 page)

“
Hey,
hey, hey! You've got it backwards. She's running the drone and I'm
chasing him.”

What?

“
She's
running the drone.”

Oh; oops. My
bad.

“
And she
warns me.”

Shit. Really?

“
Yup,
really.”

Okay.

As the assassin
neared the archway, he heard the voice of the drone operator in his
earbud. “Brussels! He's doing a Brussels!”

“
Got it.
Thanks,” the assassin said and ducked below the target's arm as
it swung around, hitting nothing but open air and the brick corner of
the wall around the archway.

The assassin
stopped on a dime, turned and delivered a quick kick to the target's
right calf, a forearm blow to his right wrist and then a blazingly
fast karate chop to the right side of his neck.

Overloaded with
electrical nerve impulses from those multiple pressure points, the
target's brain shut down and he dropped to the ground in a heap, dead
before he landed.

“
Pickup,”
the assassin said as he stooped, picked up the dime and put it in his
pocket.

The drone
operator pulled up at the curb, the assassin loaded the
corpse
into the back seat, hopped in after him, and the car took off.

Five or six
blocks away, the drone hovered down next to the car window and the
assassin grabbed it and pulled it inside. The car got out to Bonita
Beach Road and turned east, passing a Lee County deputy's car heading
in the opposite direction, lights flashing and
siren
blaring, at the intersection with Route 41, a good two miles
away
from the Marabou.

Continuing on
east, the car turned north on Michigan, next to Dotty's Brunch Nook,
and pulled into a garage several houses up. The assassin and his
partner, closing the garage door behind them, removed the corpse and
dumped it in a large chest freezer in the utility room, then removed
their disguises, putting the assassin's wig, beard, mustache, fake
teeth and cheek padding, along with the target's toupee and the drone
operator's wig, into a genuine Ming vase in the living room.

The assassin
took his cell phone out to the lanai and dialed.

“
Authentication
0000002, encryption on. Hi, Amber. Yeah, we got him. He's in the
freezer at the safe house, ready for the Sealer and the Sculptor.
No, no problem; he'll keep. But when they're done with him, how
about donating him to the city here, let 'em stick it one of their
parks? Yeah, I know; just like we did with good ol' Jimmy back in
'75. Every time the FBI gets a tip and goes digging up a parking lot
or a meadow somewhere in Detroit or Pennsylvania or somewhere, I get
a huge laugh. You know what we oughta do? Move him into that bull
on Wall Street. Great resting place for a dead union boss.

“
Oh,
Janet did a great job with the drone; she's a natural. No, he's got
no idea. We can keep her cover secure.

“
And tell
Jake he's a royal asshole for pulling that stunt at the archway.”

I heard that,
Gordy. Payback for Ballarat.

- 123 -

April
21, 2013
9:08
a.m. local time

Bonita Beach, Florida

When Norm and Janet
arrived at the beach, Norm with his long-shafted drill and umbrella
in hand, they noticed that Gordy's lounge, bag and cooler were in his
usual spot, but there was no Gordy.

Janet glanced at Norm
and said, "That's odd."

"Maybe he's taking
a walk," Norm replied.

Norm, stomping on the
ground and digging with his hands before positioning the drill,
shrugged and said, "Ah, he'll be back soon."
But an
hour later, Gordy still had not returned.

"Do
you remember seeing his car in the lot?"

Norm, engrossed in his
crossword, mumbled, "No idea."

"I'll go check,
see if it's there."

"Good luck."

A few minutes later,
Janet returned, "Well, it's there.
I don't know what's going on.”

“
Oh,
relax; he'll be back when he gets back.”

Ten
minutes later, Jill and Carie arrived, looked at Gordy's lounge and
asked, “Where's Gordy?”

“
Don't
know,” Janet replied.

“
Hope
nothing happened to him.”

“
Me,
too.”

Sharon
showed up a few minutes later, accompanied by Greg and Julie.

“
Hey,
where's Gordy?” Julie asked.

“
No
idea,” Norm replied.

Rona
and Joel, a few minutes later, had the same question.

“
We
don't know,” Sharon said.

“
Maybe
he was abducted by aliens,” Jill said.

“
Or
maybe kidnapped by the FBI again,” Julie said.

“
No,
those were fake agents,” Carie said.

“
CIA?”
That was Norm.

“
NSA?”
Joel.

“
KGB?”
Rona.

“
They're
the FSB now, not the KGB,” Janet said.

“
Well,
who, then?” Greg.

“
No
idea.” Norm again.

“
Hey,
gang, maybe he and Rosemary are just sleeping in,” Janet said.

“
Gordy
and Rosemary are an item?” Sharon asked.

“
Sure.
You didn't know?”

“
Nope.”

“
Time
for an eye exam, then,” Janet said, chuckling.

Fifteen
minutes later, fifteen minutes filled with more speculation and
gossip, Rosemary walked onto the beach, and everybody pestered her
with questions.

“
Oh,
no; he's meeting with that reporter from DC up at Pop's. She's doing
some articles about the hearing last December and his kidnapping, I
think, so she's interviewing him. Sondra something.”

“
But
that was so long ago. People will have forgotten it all by now, I'd
think,” Sharon said.

“
Could
be, but she wants to do the stories. Maybe some kind of in-depth
'whatever happened to' thing. I don't know.”

“
He
was so lucky to get away,” Julie said.

“
For
sure. Lucky that old guy figured the jig was up and killed the other
two and then himself,” Janet said.

“
And
all thanks to Carie's video,” Jill said, smiling at Carie, who
blushed, but smiled back.

“
Yay,
Carie,” several people said, and everybody applauded. Jill
smiled and Carie blushed even more deeply, and then everybody sank
back into their own thoughts. Norm went back to his crossword puzzle
and Janet to her sudoko.

An
hour later, Jill exclaimed, “Here he comes.”

“
That
must be the reporter with him,” Janet said.

“
She's
cute,” Greg observed.

“
Yeah,
she is,” Julie agreed.

“
Looks
young enough to be his granddaughter,” Norm added.

“
Got
that right,” Janet said.

A
few moments later, Gordy introduced Sondra to the group, a few
questions were asked and Sondra excused herself with a “Gotta
run. I'll be in touch,” to which Gordy replied, “Any
time.”

After
Sondra left, Gordy and Ro retired to his PVC lounge and her beach
chair and settled in.

“
So
how'd it go?”

“
Fine.
She's a bright young kid, very ambitious and pretty talented.”

“
Oh,
yeah; I've read some of her articles.”

“
More
than the ones I showed you?”

“
I
don't think so; not sure.”

“
Well,
she wants to do some more interviews in a few weeks, when she can get
away and come back down here again. I think she wants to expand it
and do more on the book and my background.”

“
Sounds
good. But are you okay with that?”

“
I
think so. We'll see.”

“
And
how about the scene that Dallas wrote?”

“
I'm
not sure, Ro. I'm really worried about how people down here, like
Alice and her ilk, and all the other folks like her, will react to
it.”

“
Oh,
Gordy, it's a wonderful scene, and she did such a great job with it.”

“
I
know, I know, but there's so many prudes around here.”

“
Well,
it's not gonna go to just people around here, is it?”

“
No,
probably not … at least I hope not.”

“
Lotsa
people who don't think like Alice are gonna read it, right?”

“
Uh,
I guess so.”

“
So
quit worrying and put it in.”

“
I
don't know, Ro. Remember all those anti-abortion freaks who ganged
up on me last fall?”