Atherton dialed the number he had been given. When Paul Gilbrech answered, Atherton said, “it’s done, Sir. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“Thank you for dealing with it, Mr. Atherton. If you ever have need of Marshal McCarty’s services, call me. I know he will help if he can.”
“I will indeed.”
*
Nick escorted Sonny and Jean to school along with Gus. The greeters from the other morning arrived as Nick walked toward the car alone. They awaited him away from the school front. As usual with the traffic dropping off kids, Nick parked half a block away from the school. Nick smiled as the man and his friends approached. Sergeant Neil Dickerson and his partner, Cheryl Rossdale stepped out of their unmarked car to intercept the men. Neil’s arrival with his partner in full uniform caught the three men by surprise. The big man Nick had run over the morning before tried to lead his companions across the street. Neil stopped them.
“Excuse me, Sir,” Neil said. “Do you have children attending this school?”
The man answered in Arabic, shrugging with a fake smile, pretending he didn’t know English. Nick stepped in and repeated Neil’s question in Arabic.
“That is none of your business.”
“If you wish to avoid being arrested with me as your interpreter, you should answer the question,” Nick said. “I know you speak English. It would be best if you did so now. You will not be going anywhere until I find out why you tried to stop me yesterday.”
“I do not have children in this school,” the man told Neil in English. “This is a free country… correct?”
“Yes… if you’re a citizen,” Neil replied. “Also, you tried to stop Marshal McCarty yesterday in front of the school. If you don’t have a very good reason for doing so, you’ll be coming to the station with me in handcuffs along with your friends. We don’t allow people to stalk others outside our schools.”
The man behind the big guy reached inside his coat, only to have Nick draw his .45 caliber Colt with the barrel pressed against the man’s temple. “Move, and I blow your brains out.”
Neil and Cheryl had drawn their weapons in the intervening seconds. Nick reached into the man’s coat. He retrieved a Walther 9mm and handed it to Cheryl. “On your knees with fingers locked behind your heads.”
The three men did as Nick ordered them. Each man carried a Walther 9mm and two extra clips. They had no identification on them. Nick spoke only after they were secured. “Tell us who you are and what your business is with me.”
“We will tell you nothing.”
Neil smiled as Gus strode next to Nick. “I release custody of these suspects to US Marshal’s McCarty and Nason.”
“Thank you for the assistance, Sergeant. I know you and Officer Rossdale prevented a violent incident in front of the shool. Marshal Nason and I will take charge of the prisoners now.”
“Wait! We demand to be taken into custody by the police!”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Neil said to the big guy. “That ship sailed. We were called to assist the Marshals in carrying out a federal warrant. Besides the felony of carrying guns near school grounds without permits and identification, you and your friends have no identification period. We have officially transferred custody.”
Officer Rossdale passed the evidence bags to Gus containing the weapons. “I hope you can find out what this weird influx of armed Middle Eastern men into our area means, Marshal McCarty.”
“So do we, Cheryl. We’ll be in touch once we identify these men,” Nick replied as he and Gus moved the prisoners toward Gus’s Ford SUV.
When they had the three men restrained in the backseat, Nick attached the silencer for his .45 caliber Colt. He stuck the silencer end under the chin of the man on the driver’s side. Gus stuck a syringe into his neck. The big man began to yell. Nick used his stun-gun on the man’s groin for thirty seconds of ultra-agony. He smiled at the last man as Gus moved to the other side of the vehicle to reach him.
“It would be best to stay quiet or I light you up,” Nick said in Arabic. “Understand?”
The man nodded. Gus used a syringe on him and the big man in the middle still shaking from the stun-gun discharge. “Would you have let Neil have these guys, Muerto?”
Nick shook his head as he entered the passenger seat while Gus slid behind the wheel. “The fix was in. Neil didn’t want them. He had a hard time believing another troop of whackos were seeking a meeting with Muerto, the angel of death.”
Gus chuckled. “You had cover with the federal warrant Paul sent by courier.”
“He’s worried. We’re still playing catchup. After the string of atrocities across the country, Paul wants a message delivered at Pilot Hill. Bring your costume, Payaso.”