Hard Case V: Blood and Fear (A John Harding Novel Book 5) (32 page)

“I’ll take the dayshift,” Lucas said. “It would be just like these bastards to dress as doctors, and make visits with no one the wiser. They ain’t got a prayer of foolin’ us. That was stand up stuff building a mini-intensive care unit right in their house, Denny. Maria must be having a positive effect on your no account, lyin’, thievin’ ass.”

Denny smiled. “Yep. There’s no use denying it, but thanks for putting it in such a wonderful manner, Lucas.”

Lucas grabbed Denny around the shoulders. “That’s what I’m here for, Spawn. I hope you have contingency plans for your own. Do we need to have a presence at your residence?”

“Nope. We’re at DEFCON one at my house. Every one of us needs to make sure all security measures are in place. This attack may definitely be related to the visit from Amara’s Dad’s bunch. Shitheads doing honor killings would be open for anything from their homeland area. If we had the next target, we’d be hitting it. I know Laredo’s working on it with Jafar’s insights. That’s good enough for me. When we launch on a lead, the rules of engagement are kill or be killed. We have contingency plans in the works for Christova. We will be careful so that bitch dies no matter what the consequences.”

“How are your eyes, John?”

“Fine, Case. I had no trouble with sniper duty. I’ll keep you all updated in texts. I’ll get acquainted with one of the nurses on staff tonight, and make sure no one gets to this level the staff doesn’t know on sight. I have all my ID’s with me. It’s possible Christova knew she needed more than one decoy to get free of the area. We already know Amara’s Dad had connections with the rat pack working in the same circles as Kornev’s people, and the Nigerians. Samira, I’ll need a fill in coach for Lynn next week. Do you want the job?”

“Yes! I will substitute for Lynn. I cannot do as well, but I can learn from you what my duties must be.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, John,” Denny said. “We still have prisoners to question.”

“I have the duty tonight at Pain Central,” Gus said. “I’ll prep them come morning.”

“Goodnight, my friends,” I told them. I had a gut feeling this night would be a long one as I watched my crew leave in hushed fashion. I went into Lynn’s room to talk with Clint. He sat next to the sleeping Lynn. He had one hand covering hers, and the other inside his jacket, probably on the butt of his Colt.

“I’ll be with little Clint,” I whispered. Clint grinned and nodded.

I found a middle thirties nurse with blonde hair and a scowl in charge of the floor. She didn’t look happy to see me. I showed her my FBI credentials, explained the situation, and the danger involved. She warmed to me the moment she saw my name.

“John Harding. I saw both ‘Rattler’ fights. God, those were bloody affairs.” She held out her hand. “I’m Connie Fortino.”

I shook her hand. “So, you’re a UFC fan, huh?” It might be easier to get guard duty in the preemie ward than I thought.

“My husband and I are hooked. Do you think they’ll give you a title shot?”

“I don’t know whether you heard, but I agreed to an off the books fight that didn’t end well. It’s the third death in the ring. I’ll probably be lucky to get another UFC shot at any fight.”

“I heard something about that on the news. That guy… the Assassin, tried to blind you. What made you take a fight off the circuit? You’re really popular after those ‘Rattler’ fights. My husband said you’d get a title shot maybe this year. Wait until I tell him you’re an FBI agent. How the heck did you get into the FBI?”

“It’s a long story, Connie. About tonight. Could I give you my mobile number, and you text me if you see anyone suspicious on the floor, especially a doctor you don’t recognize?”

“Sure, but where will you be?”

“With the Dostiene preemie. We believe the baby may be a target. I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb around there. I do have to make sure no one gets near the baby, but the people who are supposed to be there.”

“I’ll get you a lab coat. You really don’t have to worry though. There are eyes on the preemies every second of the day. The nurses working there know everyone, including the doctors. We don’t allow anyone inside either the nursery or intensive care, John. I’m fine with you staying. I’ll get you access, and introduce you to our team, so they’ll know you.”

“Thanks for doing this, Connie. I know you could give me a lot of grief instead of helping me.”

Connie smiled. “I’m thinking tickets to the next UFC match if you get one, ringside.”

“You bet I’ll get them for you. It doesn’t even have to be me. I’ll get you tickets for the next big match, and all the trimmings getting there, and staying.”

“Come with me, Mr. Harding.”

* * *

The doctor approached the desk all smiles, a tall black man with the manner of a confident physician, complete with nametag, clipboard, and attitude. Connie texted John anyway before smiling at the approaching man.

“Hi, can I help you, doctor?”

“Yes, I am here to check on the Dositiene baby,” the man said with an accent. “I am a specialist called in by the family, Doctor James Turay. It was impossible for me to arrive any sooner. Can you please take me to the child?

“Certainly,” Connie said, stalling for time. “May I see your credentials please? The parents are here of course. I can call the father to go in with you if you’d like, Dr. Turay.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Dr. Turay reached inside his lab coat, seeing Connie’s eyes widen a split second before a hand clasped his reaching wrist, in an until now unimaginable grip. He screamed out in pain involuntarily as the hand on his appendage continued squeezing until pain filled his world along with the sound of his wrist bone fracturing.

* * *

I slipped off my shoes the moment Connie texted me as I dozed near the baby intensive care ward. It was one in the morning on my iPhone. Angling against the hallway corridor, I slipped into position away from the white coated phony at Connie’s desk. I didn’t want her killed because I wasn’t prepared to end the threat the moment it began. She had a job to do, and I had no doubt she would die to fulfil her responsibility – not happenin’ on my watch. My timing was a bit on the close side as I approached him from the rear. He went for what I’m sure was a silenced automatic of some kind to pop Connie, and hurry on to execute the staff in the baby ICU along with Clint Jr. I don’t think so. Jutting forward at the final clearing stage for his piece, I latched onto the offending wrist with extreme prejudice. After all, what the hell did we care if his wrist hung by skin shreds or not. The pussy started screaming, so I had to Gronk him with my now well practiced knife-hand strike to the base of his skull. When I landed, gauging the way he dropped, I thought I may have miscalculated the force. Oh well… it’s an inexact science. Doc Ock or whatever his name is crumpled to the floor.

“Damn, John… that was an illegal strike. Bad John… bad.” Connie was peering over the desk at the downed fake Doc while I frisked him. When she saw me take the silenced H&K 9mm auto out of his custom holster, I heard her gasp. “He…he was going to kill me. Shit! I hope the prick’s dead. Thanks, John.”

“We needed him alive, Connie. I think he’ll be okay. I’m sorry for the timing. I didn’t mean for there to be any danger if one of these assholes arrived unannounced. I owe you two sets of UFC ringside seats of your choice after this close one.”

“Hell… I’d have killed him myself for that deal.”

Oh man, Connie was good. We were enjoying the hell out of her statement as Clint arrived in full combat mode, and game face on. It’s not a pretty sight if you’re on the opposite side of the Clintster. It means you have split seconds before you take your last breath or scream and pray for it if you’re still alive after he takes you. I patted Doc Ock with false compassion. He was indeed still living. Sucks to be you, Doc.

“I’ll put this as Lynn would like, John,” Clint said. “Did you break my toy?”

I straightened with all the paraphernalia I had confiscated from Doc Ock in hand, while backing away. “I only played for a moment, Clint. He’s still alive.”

Clint still didn’t crack a smile. He knelt next to Doc Ock, and hit the call button for someone, waiting until he heard a voice. “Quays… get over to the hospital right now, my friend. I have a pickup for holding, and it can’t wait.”

Clint smiled then after acknowledging whatever Quays said, holding Doc Ock’s pulverized right wrist in the air while staring at me. “You are a very bad man, Mr. Harding.”

I waved his criticism off. “I had my friend Connie’s wellbeing to take care of, brother. That the Doc still lives is a badge of honor for my restraint, ‘man from nowhere’.”

“Should I call the cops,” Connie asked, having stared from me to Clint repeatedly during our small verbal exchange.

After securing Doc Ock for me with plastic ties at the elbows and ankles, Clint straightened then with his own FBI credentials in hand for Connie’s perusal. “This was an assassination attempt to cower my wife and I from pursuing an investigation into a terrorist cell here in the Bay Area. I’m hoping you will keep this in confidence, Connie. We’re on the track of monsters who would launch WMD’s on us. I’m sorry you were caught up in this.”

Connie gripped his extended hand with both hers. “Say no more. No way I share anything from this with anyone, including the cops. Your son is my first priority! No one touches him unless they go through me first!”

Clint patted her hands with feeling. “Thank you. It is a difficult time for us in this terrorist cell era. I wish the government would take their commitments to our wellbeing as seriously as you do. John and I are in your debt. You may call the debt in at any time. One of us will answer it depending on your part in the problem.”

Clint pressed his card into her hands then. “Keep this near. It is a projection onto everyone you love. Count on us if you have a real problem. I will trust you to know the difference. If you ever see anything weird here at your work, we would welcome the information you give us concerning the incident.”

“Thank you. I won’t let either of you down,” Connie answered. “What happens to this guy?”

“We have another agent taking him into custody,” Clint answered. “He will be interrogated and charged for his crimes. If you’d like, I’ll keep you informed about the investigation as much as possible.”

Connie looked into Clint’s lying eyes, buying the whole package. “Not necessary. I don’t care what the hell you do with him.”

Clint nodded. “If you change your mind after we leave, just call. I’ll update you.”

“Fair enough,” Connie said. She reached over the counter to grip my arm. “Thank you for my life. When you get clearance, can I tell my husband about this? I mean… will you let me know when it’s okay to explain tonight to him?”

“I sure will, and I’ll tell him personally of your part in it,” I told her. “After all, you’ll need some kind of explanation for your UFC sojourns.”

“Yeah, I will. Chad’s a great guy, and he never gets jealous. He always claims he can stand up to comparison… and he can,” Connie replied with conviction. “I always tell him the truth, because he says he can’t bury what he doesn’t know.”

Clint and I enjoyed that statement, liking Chad without ever knowing him. “Good enough, Connie. Thank you. We will be taking little Clint to his home far quicker than expected. I wish that-”

I heard the elevator open around the corridor. The sound of running feet meant it disgorged people near enough they thought a running assault would send us into brain freeze. Yeah, okay boys, let’s do this right now. I leaped over the counter, pulling Connie down, while popping back up to fire a volley in backup to Clint’s. Bullets sprayed in our direction wildly, I guess hoping they would find a target. The smell is unexplainable. It is a mixture from hell, involving fear, gunpowder, cordite, and the sweat of delivering it, except if you’re Clint and me.

We delivered death in single shot hell, because every round we fired struck target. We’re head shooters. They don’t wear armor there. In seconds, the four man backup team for Doc Ock lie strewn across the corridor very near our greeting counter, the only indication of their presence a splattering of bullet holes in the greeting area, and the last twisting death rattles of four men in need of a priest rather than a hospital. Screams echoed out from the rooms too of shock and fear. I waved Clint away.

“Go Clint. Lynn will be ripping her tubes out to get here.”

“Don’t take chances, brother. I’ll text Denny,” Clint yelled over his shoulder on the way to harness an awakening Cruella Deville.

I popped in my spare clip, before patting Connie’s hand, with my eye on the dead and dying.

“You did excellent, Connie. Your hearing will be back to normal in a little while, although your area around the counter will smell like the gunfight at the OK corral for the time being.” I pulled her up into a position where she could see there was no danger left. “They pulled out all the stops on this one. Thank you for your courageous help. It means a lot to us. We’ll have your back for all time. There were a few extras we weren’t counting on. Are you okay?”

“I…I think so. What did you guys do to deserve getting a case like this?”

“We’re in the middle of keeping a bad presence out of our port system. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. Stay here behind the desk. Once Clint makes sure his wife is settled, he’ll calm the others down. I have to secure the scene before help arrives.”