Hard Case V: Blood and Fear (A John Harding Novel Book 5) (41 page)

Oh my God, that was good. I grabbed Clint around his shoulders with the rest of my crew, including Red Dragon Security, pumping fists into the air. Yeah, we’re a little sick of the status quo. “I can tell Lynn has unmasked the monster, my brother. I bet you have to hear all about it on a daily basis.”

Clint stared right into my eyes. “Whatever you imagine, multiply it by ten, and you will have the Cruella Deville input down pat.”

“I heard that!” Crue’s voice nearly burst Clint’s eardrum. He grimaced, and tore his earwig out to hold it away from him as if it were a piece of used toilet paper between his index finger and thumb.

That was funny! Clint was tapped into Crue’s world even now. She wired him. “Oh my God, brother, Crue has you on an audio video leash.”

Clint shrugged. “Did you think I’d be allowed out of the house without the ball and chain along in some manner? Not to mention, the baby cries if he doesn’t hear my voice every few minutes.”

“What!? Did you just call me the ball and chain!?” The squawking earwig was too much. We had a break in all discussion for temporary humorous mayhem. Alexi joined the celebration with smiling recognition he had stumbled into something unrelated to terrorism.

“I…I have a spare room if you need one, Clint.”

“Not necessary, John. I have to be back home in an hour, or Crue punishes me by making dinner for a week. It’s more than any human being can endure.”

“You’re toast, man from nowhere! You’ll be eating out of Tonto’s dish until the devil serves snow-cones in hell!”

Clint kept smiling as Crue roasted him in tiny squawks until finally, he shoved the device into his pocket, and unclipped his button camera, stuffing it into the same pocket as the ear piece. “I hope we have something for my woman to do in the near future, or I’ll be needing an island refuge soon.”

Our phones began going off moments later. We checked, and turned them off one at a time as Crue called one after another. The bar phone went off shortly after the last of ours was turned off. Marla, who had been enjoying the hell out of the Clint roast, looked at Clint for help. She signaled her other bartender to let it ring.

“What the hell do I do now?” Marla picked up the phone, confirmed who it was on the readout, and handed it to Clint. “She’s all yours, Clint. I know better than to blow off Cruella Deville.”

Clint took the phone. “Hello, Dear… I…” He started laughing midway through his stammering hello. He had to hold the receiver six inches away from his ear before getting near enough to the mouthpiece to say something. “Calm down. I was having a little fun.” He grinned. “Yes, I know. When the baby goes down for a nap, it will be unarmed combat time. Just a warning – if you try to Tase me on my way through the door, it won’t go well for you. I’ll have Jess come over and slap you around a little.”

“Not happenin’, Crue,” Jess called out with conviction.

“I will. Okay… goodbye.” Clint passed the phone to Marla again. He looked around at all of us with a big smile. “I have to keep her juices flowing. She says she’s ready to go to the mattresses.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Chuck said. “Sal and I have heard so many stories about her, we would have taken on the job just to see her in action.”

“She’ll be questioning Moronas for sure then, right?” Sal wanted confirmation.

“I guarantee it,” Clint said. “Now, before we discuss logistics, Justin Bieber called. He wants the next shot at the Cheeseburger.”

* * *

Lynn moved only when needing to with Dannie and Amara at her side. Clint Jr clung to her happily, bound to her chest. She watched the Hollywood Bounty Hunters arrive in the same place where they had filmed the last FBI handover. Clint, along with the minions surrounded her inner circle. Everyone was in position at the Casa Ado restaurant for the dress rehearsal. With hands patting the baby, Lynn scoped the scene in every detail, from the interaction between participants to the camera guys she knew very well. They had already rehearsed the takedown of Moronas at the private airfield he was flying into soon. Lynn used the cover of making an episode of the TV series without mentioning who they were after landing there. Lynn felt it would be a piece of cake once they confirmed arrival time with Red Dragon Security people monitoring the airport.

The Casa Ado restaurant acted again as the backdrop to Lynn’s hoped for scene after Moronas went through a short reeducation lesson in the very near future. Clint, Lynn’s minions, and Tonto, acted as her bodyguards, and troubleshooters. Tommy, Jess, and Devon interacted with the Hollywood Bounty Hunters, making sure equipment was at hand when needed, or anything on the set needed shifting at a moment’s notice. At 10 pm, Sigfried Kadelus, their head cameraman indicated to Lynn the lighting settings matched his previous work at the spot filmed on the earlier episode.

“Good, Sig. Let’s run a full on clip from when Kensy and Kevin walk Moronas to the FBI agents, including lines. Do you remember the sentence you’re supposed to say when Kensy hands over Moronas, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Crue, I have the line down pat. We should have Sam and Janie here to practice. You know they’ll flub this scene. A hundred bucks says that cardboard cutout Sam will forget his seven word line – ‘we’ll take him from here, Ms. Talon’.”

“If I want any input from you Sands, I’ll cut it out of you,” Lynn stated, waving the Holly wood Bounty Hunters into action while listening to the snorted laughter around the set.

“Incoming.” Clint pointed at a convertible screeching to a halt at the end of the alleyway, they were filming in. Six guys who jumped into the street, with penguin pants allowing a rather weird dismount from the vehicle, shuffled toward them. “This doesn’t look good either. What the hell? Do these guys patrol their gangster areas?”

“Take the baby, Dannie,” Lynn disengaged from her harness with Clint’s help. Dannie took the baby, and faded to the rear with Amara, behind the minions who did not bother hiding the fact they had hands on weapons. “Let’s not start a war here. We haven’t filmed our scene yet. We don’t collect Bozo Moronas until later. Tommy, Jess, and Dev… stay where you are in front of the Hollywood’s. Les and Kev… c’mon out with them as a precaution.”

Ex-Hell’s Angel, Les Tavor, along with his Hollywood Bounty Hunters’ enforcement wing partner, Kevin Halliday, moved alongside Tommy’s group. Lynn grinned at Clint, as the march of the penguins took a few moments from their car to the scene. One of them in front recognized Lynn from their last disastrous confrontation, and stopped dead with his guys running into him.

“What the hell you stoppin’ for, Jet?”

“I know this woman’s crew, Speed. We don’t want to do this. They just filming some goofy reality show… that Hollywood Bounty Hunters gig, only the real bad asses work the scene. C’mon… they ain’t stayin’ long.”

“Man… I did not take over the reins of this party to back down from some mo-fo out-of-towners.” The one named Speed gestured at Lynn. “You on our turf, bitch! You want to operate here, you have to pay the toll.”

Lynn sighed. She was so into the director’s duties, she didn’t care about the extortion racket, figuring maybe a quick payment would keep their later filming of the real scene without incident. “Okay, Betty, what’ll it cost me?”

“Oh no… you did not-”

Speed moved in threatening gestures toward Lynn. The prior acquaintance called Jet, dashed out in front of Speed, signaling the rest of their crew in placating form. “Don’t reach! The man backing her play is a shooter.” Jet tried to dissuade Speed’s approach as the man pushed against him. “If you do this, Speed, you’ll have her knife carving you some new initials, and her shooter will clip pieces off the rest of us if we’re lucky! Step off this time, brother!”

“Get away from me, pussy!” Speed shoved Jet away, while pulling his own knife. “Bitch likes to brawl with the blade, huh? Let’s do this! Think you bad, huh? I’ll carve you a new pussy in your face.”

“You’re so cute,” Lynn said, her own butterfly knife not only appearing, but doing tricks from one hand to the other, while occasionally flipping it over her shoulder, and catching it in perfect position for an attack. “I was going to let you Bambi’s go on your way. Now, that’s not an option. Tommy? Work your magic, and get us a little payment for this damn interruption.”

Tommy walked into the middle without a flinch either way, smiling and gesturing. “Your man Jet here knows how this works. We don’t show skills without a price, gentlemen. I’m giving three to one odds my director carves this tootsie roll pop until he begs for mercy.”

Tommy took out a wad of cash. “Let’s see the money young gentlemen, unless your balls have shrunk into your chest.”

His target audience checked each other with an uneasiness borne of foul beginnings. That did not mean shit to Tommy. “Oh… I’m sorry tough guys. You’re not doing transactions with poor saps kneeling with their hands clasped in prayer. It’s a new day in the neighborhood, you gangster wannabes! Put up, or shut up!”

They wanted no part of the match, but they bet, all but the one who knew Lynn and Clint. Jet wanted no part of wagering. He refused to put any money down. He glanced away from his companions to see Lynn and Clint smiling at him. Tommy coerced, and ragged the other men with expertise until he had maxed the bets to the most he thought possible. Tommy met Lynn’s gaze with a nod.

“These campfire girls are all in, Crue. They’re beat before the cuttin’ even starts.”

One reached inside his hoodie at Tommy’s words. No one saw Clint draw. His bullet took a notch from the young man’s shoulder. “Next lesson is a deadly one, gentlemen. I have my young baby son here on scene. Anyone else even sneezes with their hand moving, and I will put a bullet into each one of your heads before you take another breath. For full disclosure, I want the rest of you to take your hands and grab onto your clothing. Anyone I don’t see grabbing, gets a third eye.”

They grabbed clothing, including the wounded one.

“Well now, we have the preliminaries on the board. C’mon, Betty. Don’t be shy. You think you’re hell on wheels with a knife. Come get some, pussy.”

Speed had been watching the preliminaries with surprise. It was plain he had never faced down professional killers before. He watched Lynn do knife tricks even while he was looking at his own knife with suspicion. Rage flared as Lynn’s countering features revealed plainly she had no fear, and no mercy waiting for him.

Speed jutted a thrust toward Lynn unexpectedly. Lynn batted it away while carving a six inch line of blood up his attacking forearm.

“Oh yeah, baby, bring it. By the time we’re done dancin’ no one in your crew will even recognize you,” Lynn told him while Speed watched the blood drip to the pavement from his forearm. “Have you ever heard that song, ‘Bad Bad Leroy Brown’, Betty? He messed with the wrong cat. When they pulled old Leroy from the floor in the lyrics to the song, he looked like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces gone. That’ll be you, Betty. Now c’mon. Lace up those pink panties, and let’s finish this bet.”

Sweating in the cool air, with his gang shouting for him to cut the bitch up, Speed crouched into a careful ready crouch, no longer angling for anything other than survival. He had not even seen the swipe Lynn cut his arm with. Lynn made kissing noises at him, finally dropping her arms to her sides.

“Well shit! Is this a knife fight or a ballet lesson? Damn… so all you other sissies follow this big girl around doing anything she wants you to do, huh?”

Speed heard the mumblings from his men. He shot straight at her, his knife hand flicking out from what he thought was an unexpected angle. Lynn dropped to one side, leg whipping Speed face first to the pavement. Before he could move, she ran over him, slicing him from the small of his back to the top of his neck. Speed’s shirt and leather jacket parted into halves. The blood welled from the thin red incision. Lynn twirled the knife around from hand to hand, stooping to clean the blade in between revolutions on Speed’s clothing.

“You want anymore, Betty?” Lynn was crouching next to Speed’s head, continuing her knife tricks around his ears.

“No!” Speed held his hand up as he rolled slightly to his side. “I’m done.”

“Pay up, kiddies,” Tommy said, moving amongst the others with Dev and Jesse at his side. “That’s how it’s done. Lesson learned, right? Don’t be shy. Show me the green, children.”

The gang paid without comment. Speed scrambled to his feet, letting his clothing drop away as he ran toward the convertible with his disgruntled gang members close behind. Tommy, Dev, and Jesse watched their retreat with Clint on the opposite side of the alleyway.

Lynn put an arm around Jet before he could follow. “I can use a smart guy like you, Jet. Our Hollywoods need some color in the ranks. Although Les and Kev are good protectors, I need a streetwise ex-gangbanger to help keep my little Kensy safe. How would you like a job, kid?”

“You mean be on TV?” Jet looked around at the others in confusion. Kensy walked over to take his hand.

“Lynn’s our boss and mentor. If she wants you with us, you’re in, Jet. I think she means for you to be our guy who can spot any gang trouble before it happens. Is that right, Lynn?”

“Exactly,” Lynn replied. “Your job is to make sure nothing happens to our make believe bounty hunters. We want good safe scenes. Sometimes the kids have to get into harm’s way for a moment or two. Les, Kevin, and you will make sure nothing bad happens. I’m certain you can spot a bad situation, right?”