*
The weekday morning hosted only a few sporadic stops from tourists on Carol’s beach. Off leash, Deke streaked up and down the beach as the usual scavenger birds arrived, screeching at the happily annoying dog. Deke stopped his beach patrol only if spotting the small creatures popping out from between the rocks. Settled into a comfortable beach chair, enjoying the light gray cast day with no wind, Nick sipped his Irish coffee while contemplating his beach companions’ mood. He felt another rising tide of trouble on the horizon. Weighing his fascination with the violent comedy he had made of Gus’s El Muerto label, Nick didn’t think he could let go of it, exposure or not. Muerto haunted every mission he considered. He guiltily remembered nearly deciding to attribute the mugger action to El Muerto, endangering everyone in his small group of family and friends.
Gus kept glancing over at his friend with a perturbed look. “I know what you’re thinking Muerto. You’re becoming as predictable as an old comic book plot.”
“Contrary to what I’m sure were evil thoughts on your part, Payaso, I am merely sipping my beverage, watching Deke romp around, and enjoying the grains of sand on the beach.”
“Gag me… what you’re thinking about is going on the tour, and taking on the ‘Seattle Ripper’ as El Muerto. It’s not enough to take on an Isis terrorist group, you can’t wait to don the mask for a ‘Ripper’ post mortem video.”
Realizing among the other thoughts from a moment ago, that he indeed had been plotting action against the ‘Ripper’ as El Muerto, Nick frowned at Gus. “How dare you think such dastardly assumptions without evidence, Payaso?”
“I knew it,” Gus stated with confidence, relaxing in his chair. “You pull the outrage card whenever I hit the nail on the head in predictions. Did you get the blood out of your mask from our excursion the other night?”
“None of your business,” Nick replied, seeing Gus’s nearly clairvoyant observation amused his other companions. I’m really getting sloppy, Nick thought. He stood, putting aside his empty cup. “I need to call the Marshals while I’m still in a good mood, only slightly ruined by Payaso’s ‘Mentalist’ act.”
“Take it easy on them, Nick,” Rachel urged, leaning forward, nearly spilling her tea as she grabbed Nick’s hand. “They were with us from the start.”
“Only one thing wrong with your logic, my dear. If what I suspect is true, they came very close to ending us, and are now allowing the danger to exist without a warning. I simply wish to know why. Drink your tea. Tim and Grace will survive.”
“Promise?” Rachel’s features betrayed her bleak knowledge of exactly what her husband was capable of.
“I promise.” Nick patted her shoulder, and walked away with his specially crafted phone for secure calls in hand. Tim answered the phone on the first ring.
“Nick? You must be telepathic. We planned to contact you today. The AG doesn’t care how you stop the ‘Ripper’. Let us know when you can get into the area with us.”
“We need to talk over another unfortunate glitch in our relationship, Timmy.”
“Ah… I’ll put you on speaker. Grace is here with me.”
“Hey psycho,” Grace acknowledged the connection.
“We had a deal concerning Pence Didricson. He’s still at Los Alamos, isn’t he?”
Nick’s mouth tightened during the silence on the line. “Yep. That’s what I thought. There’s been a very dangerous result from my not knowing Pence was still in play.”
Nick tersely explained Formsby’s attempt on his family. He also outlined his suspicions concerning a thread between Didricson, Uthman Sadun, and Formsby. “What I suspect is Formsby footed the bill for a law team to represent Sadun. Then he connected with Didricson backed by a lot of money. In their small circle I’m sure my name circulated in reference to the name gathering foray I did on behalf of the DOJ with Sadun, and finding proof of Didricson’s espionage acts. Now, I have an ongoing problem, kids. What do you think I should do about it, other than shoot both of you in the head?”
Tim was the first to speak. “We…we need to make some calls, Nick. Let us track some details concerning your suspicions.”