“We have it all, Nick – thank God. He had everything on it. The FBI is hitting his house in the morning. I assume he will be another one that got away without a trace, huh?”
“Yep. I’m about to send Pence on his last journey. I hope you haven’t forgotten about my video problem with the Formsby mess.”
“Already confiscated from the local PD through the Patriot Act, because Formsby is now under indictment for espionage. I already have the DOJ’s release of the case into CIA hands, since most of the indictment encompasses his overseas interests. If anyone hassles you locally, you call me directly. I’ll take care of them. I don’t think the FBI will be snooping around on the Formsby case, but you never know. Great job, Nick. With this kind of success, the number of favors owed to us keeps piling in a bigger mound we can use in the future.”
“Good, because I have a couple of other loose ends I have to work through. I’ll be in touch with the logistics, Paul.”
“I’m here to back your play, Muerto. Just give me some warning, okay?”
“Will do. You can get some sleep now. Thanks for staying in this to the end.”
“Are you kidding? You prevented a major catastrophe. I am sorry about the exposure it caused where you live. I hope fixing the loose end problem shifts you back into relative obscurity other than your novel writing. Call me if you need me.” Gilbrech disconnected.
Nick brought over a syringe with him to Pence’s gurney. “You did real good, Pence. Here’s your reward.”
Nick injected the hotshot of heroin into Didricson’s neck. Thirty seconds later, the pain faded completely, and soon after Pence’s life followed. “Well John, what do you think? Pretty effective, huh?”
John took off his mask, as did Nick and Gus. “Although I agree with Payaso about this method being about the most twisted, horrifying end of a human being I’ve ever seen or imagined, it produces excellent results.”
“That’s all that counts, Kabong.” Nick brought over a body-bag from the storage cabinet in the room.
“Only you would say such a thing, Muerto,” Gus said, helping John shift Didricson’s body into the bag Nick held open. “I have to admit it though. There wasn’t any other way faster to retrieve the blackmail drive. What’s next?”
“I have a rather intricate plan to use one loose end to help me tie up the other loose end, and as a bonus, make Timmy and Grace get their hands dirty in penance for causing this. Can you and John put Pence on ice while I go deliver the BMW?”
“Sure,” Gus agreed. “I’ll drive by Jerry’s after we finish with the Pence interrogation cleaning. Did Paul tell you whether tomorrow will be a tough day with the PD or not?”
“According to him, I won’t be bothered at all.”
*
Nick managed three hours of blissful, dreamless sleep before his inner alarm awakened him to the day’s duties. He rubbed his eyes, taking satisfaction in the fact the nightstand clock read one minute before seven. How refreshing, Nick conceded, the sleep of the psychopath. Before descending the stairs, Nick avoided waking Rachel as he fought off the already awake Deke, who knew the daily routine very well. He stopped outside Jean’s room next, but hesitated, shushing Deke with a hand gesture, while listening intently. A slowly forming smile spread across his features, as Nick realized Jean was near the door, waiting to ambush him.
“Up early, huh Dagger?”
The door swung open to a perturbed Jean wearing a black body leotard and Muerto mask. “I didn’t have a fragrance you could smell through the door, and I didn’t move a fraction of an inch while lying in wait to pounce. How did you know?”
“I have a sixth sense for Ninja wannabes. Plus, you didn’t control your breathing. I didn’t smell you this time, but I heard you. Nice outfit.”
Jean stroked Deke’s head. “I’ll remember. You’re mine one of these days.”
“It won’t matter. I’ll be too old to care. What do you want for breakfast?”
“Toast and tea.”
“By your command.” Nick bowed away from the door.
*
Jean finished off her toast and tea while Nick worked the next scene in the new Diego adventure. Rachel walking into the kitchen triggered a slurping of crumbs and tea. Jean reacted appreciatively when Rachel turned away with a disgusted look, by pumping her fist.
“Another horrible habit learned from the instigator, El Muerto. I asked you not to do that in front of me, young lady.”
“I can’t help it, Mom. Your face scrunches like a voodoo doll the second you see me eating toast and tea.”