A Cloak of Lies Ch. 10

When the vehicle finally arrived and pulled to a stop, a man stepped out, looking the three of them over as if sizing them up.

"Brick," said the man, his only greeting, "where's my money?"

"Pay the man," Brick told Niko, shouldering his shot gun and walking to the truck. "Half now, half when we get there. Get drivin', Smitty."

"Wait a minute, Brickler," the driver said. "George didn't say anything about you bringing company when he called."

"Probably because he was too busy being pissed at me for taking his best plane. These are my partners, Smitty. That's all you need to know."

"Yeah, and for all I know," Smitty griped, "they could be cops or Feds or worse. I ain't too happy about this."

"Like I care about your happiness," Brick growled back. "Let's go."

The men piled into the old Suburban with the unhappy Smitty climbing behind the wheel. He glanced at Niko and Olan in the rearview mirror, startled when Niko took his gun out.

"No tricks," warned Olan.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," Smitty said. "I was just told I'd get a couple of thousand dollars for driving Brick around. I wasn't told anything about guns or extra men. I got enough trouble with the law."

"Don't start none, won't be none," returned Brick. "Just drive us to the hacienda. Then you're off the hook."

The hacienda, as it turned out, was the home of a retired Marine sergeant that had used questionable means to acquire his comfortable lifestyle. The man's name was Howard Kurth and happened to owe Brick a small favor or two.

"You boys made good time," he said, clasping each of their hands in turn. "What happened to you, Brick? Get hooked up with a woman?"

"You know better'n that," Brick replied. "Ain't a woman out there worth keepin'."

"Well, someone sure got to you. Got ya all cleaned up. You smell almost bearable."

"Everyone's a comedian," he growled, waiting until he finished paying off the nervous driver before following Howard onto the veranda.

Once out of the relentless glare of the desert sun, Brick wiped his brow, taking a chair. Niko and Olan followed suit, watching for anything that looked out of place.

"Flora, drinks," Howard called through the door of the house before turning back to his guests. "Got me a little Mex gal that takes care of things around here. I don't understand much of what she says, but she sure is easy on the eyes."

"Bedding the help?" Brick laughed.

Howard shook his head, laughing as he said, "Tried it once. Bitch stuck me with my own knife. I guess No means No, even in Spanish."

A moment later, a pretty woman appeared with a tray that held a variety of concoctions, all designed to quench the thirst. After the men were served, the woman vanished as quietly as she had arrived.

"So what do you need?" Howard asked.

It didn't take long to explain that they were there to talk with the man named Lansky. Though their host did not seem pleased to help in the task, he told them he would help where he could, as long as they kept his name out of it.

"Not a problem," Niko said, "we just want to talk to the man and then we'll be out of your hair."

"It won't be an easy task," Howard informed him. "Hell, the law's been after him for years. When he settled here, he surrounded himself with some of the worst cutthroats I've ever seen. About half a day's drive west, you'll find his ranch. You won't get within shooting distance, though."

"I suppose he's got some kind of watch patrolling the perimeter, huh?" Brick said.

"Yep," Howard replied with a curt nod. "He's a paranoid bastard. Best bet is to try to use the cover of night. Moon's pretty bright out here, so that'll be a problem. But I think I got something that might help with that. Got me a vehicle out back I used to use for night runs. It's hard to see. Come out back."

They followed the man to a large building, waiting for him to unlock the wide double doors. Stepping inside, he flipped a switch, flooding the interior with light. The structure was lined on one side with vehicles of all makes and models and on the other side with lockers and cabinets.

"Right here," Howard said, pulling a tarp off a vehicle. He stepped back to allow the others a view of the car, chuckling when he said, "The DEA and the ATF had a hell of a time following me in this. Non-reflective gray primer, four-wheel drive, Oxley Night Vision lighting, extra gas tank – they didn't stand a chance. She'll go about anywhere and reach speeds of 90 plus. You'll need NV goggles."

He walked to a locker, throwing open the doors. Inside was all manner of equipment that would make any military mission seem like a walk in the park.

"Damn," Brick muttered, pulling an electronic device off a shelf. "You got more high-tech gadgets in here than Radio Shack. What the hell do you do with it all?"

"For the most part," Howard said, "I finance my way of lifestyle with it. Most of this stuff is just left-over from the days when I was running arms south of the border. Don't dabble too much in it now. I have a few munitions, too, if you want 'em."

"Hell, yes," Brick laughed.

Niko watched the exchange, feeling the press of time. Was Camille all right? He wondered what was going through her mind. He had to get to her soon.

"Get what you need," he said, heading for the vehicle. "Let's get going."

"I learned a long time ago not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong," Howard said, "but it sure seems to me like that fellow's got some issues."

"Yeah," Brick chuckled. "Woman troubles. It'll just take me a minute or two to get things loaded up. Sure do thank you for the help."

"No problem. Just forget where you found this stuff, will ya?"

"You got it, buddy," Brick said, shouldering a case of RPG's. "You'll be able to get your truck back at the airfield. Just send that dumbass Smitty out for it."

After loading the back truck with equipment, guns and ammunition, Brick climbed behind the wheel, checking the gauges to make sure there was plenty of fuel for the trip. Then they were on their way, heading west as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky.

It was well past dark by the time they saw the first marker that signaled the entrance to Lansky's ranch. Taking the vehicle off-road, they followed Howard's directions and their GPS around buttes and gorges until they got within half a mile of the big house. From there they hiked a distance to hide themselves in a small ravine.

"That must be the place," Olan said, peering through the high-powered night vision rifle scope.

"Looks like it," Brick agreed. "I see seven men including two on the roof. Gonna be a bitch gettin' in there."

"How're you feeling, Olan?" Niko asked.

"Now's a fine time to ask, Niko," Olan chuckled. "Shoulder's a little stiff, but I'll make it."

"All right, bro," Niko said, zipping the black jacket he'd gotten from Howard's machine shed. "I say we go in the back. We can use the out-buildings as cover. Trick is to take out the two guards in the back without arousing the others."

"Leave that to me," Brick said, clutching the knife handle at his waist. "I'll go in first. You guys move up after I take them out."

"Too risky," Niko said, searching the area through Olan's scope. "I'll take one, you take the other. Olan will cover us from that small shed near the corner of the house. No telling what we'll come up against on the inside."

"I hate to be the voice of reason here," Olan said, "but I think we're going at this about half cocked. Where are we going to take him once we get the bastard?"

"How about that shed we saw a few miles back?"

"Good idea, Brick," said Niko. "We'll question him there, find out what he knows."

"Let's get to it," Brick said, climbing out of the gorge.

"Hey, I see movement down there," Olan said, peering through the rifle scope again.

Brick zoomed in on the action, taking a moment to adjust the high-tech binoculars he'd acquired from Howard. Lowering the glasses again, he turned to his companions.

"Short, stocky with pale-colored hair. That has to be Lansky. Let's get back to the truck. They're on the move and headed up to the road."

Once back to the vehicle, they raced back to the dirt road that led to the house. Niko climbed to the roof of the vehicle after Brick brought it to a halt, using the binoculars to spot their quarry.

"I saw two men get in the SUV with him," Brick said.

"They're still about a mile off," Niko mused. "How we going to work this?"

"I say we drive 'em off the road, use the truck as a weapon," replied Brick.

With a chuckle, Olan shook his head, saying, "You just like to break things, Brick."

The big man grinned, climbing back behind the wheel as Niko jumped off the roof and got in the back seat.

"Buckle up, boys," laughed Brick. "Let's play chicken."

"Oh, shit," Olan hissed, jamming the belt buckle into its slot.

Brick slammed the shifter into gear, gunning the engine and kicking up a huge cloud of dust. He drove at break-neck speed, gauging the distance to the other vehicle through his night vision goggles. Olan removed his own goggles, preferring not to see what was coming on the narrow desert road.

There was no way the people in the SUV would be able to see them in time. As suspected, they were almost upon the other vehicle before it swerved off the road, flipping onto its top when it hit a ravine.

Before the stunned occupants could gather their wits, Brick was hauling the driver out through a broken window, cracking the man's skull with the butt of his gun. Niko handled the other guard in much the same manner while Olan held a pistol on their target.

"You're coming with us. We got some questions for you," Brick growled, stepping up to the blond man. When the man only glared in response, Brick grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him from his feet as he asked, "You gonna do this the hard way?"

"Do you assholes know who the fuck I am?" the man hissed.

"Yeah," Niko replied. "You're Burt Lansky and are real scumbag."

"Enough talk," Brick snarled, knocking the man cold.

He tied Lansky, tossing him in the back seat of the truck. Within minutes, they were on their way to the abandoned shack that they'd passed before entering the ranch. With any luck at all, they'd get the information they needed and be out of New Mexico before anyone realized what had happened.

"Get the lamps," Brick said, shouldering the still-unconscious Lansky after pulling the truck to the back of the shack.

Niko carried the lanterns, setting them up inside. He helped Brick lower the man to rest on a rickety table, hoping the furniture would hold under Lansky's weight. They tied him down, each limb to a table leg.

"Wake up, asshole," Brick yelled, slapping the man's face.

Lansky came around slowly, shaking his head as he glanced at the three men who had captured him. Brick took a step forward, grabbing the man's hair and pulling his head up.

"We got some questions," Brick said, pulling his knife from its scabbard, "and you're gonna answer them. If you don't, I'm going to strip the hide from your bones starting at your chest. I'll keep cutting until I get to your cock and balls. Then I'll cut them off and let you bleed out. Got me?"

Lansky spit in his face, shaking from head to toe with rage. Brick grinned, dropping the man's head and tearing the shirt from his frame.

"What the hell is that?" Olan said, holding a lamp over the man.

"White oleander," Niko said as he stared at the small tattoo near Lansky's shoulder. "Do what you have to; make the son-of-a-bitch talk. He's one of them."

"You bein' squeamish, Red, you might wanna step outside," Brick grinned. "This is gonna get messy."

"You're a funny guy, Brick," Olan said. "Just get to it."

Brick slid the through the tattoo, cutting a deep furrow through the cluster of flowers, smiling maliciously when Lansky gasped in pain.

"Where do we find Oleander?" Niko asked.

"Fuck you," was Lansky's reply.

"Wrong answer," Brick said, slicing into the tattoo again. "You're a hefty guy. Lots of flesh to cut off. This might take us all night."

The man struggled against ropes, grunting as he fought not to scream. Niko felt his stomach turning. Brick was the right guy for the job, torturing Lansky as if he really enjoyed it.

"You lost your badge of honor," Brick laughed, tossing a flap of bloody skin to the floor. "Better start answering or you won't have any flesh left to paint up again. Where's Oleander?"

Lansky still refused to answer, finally giving voice to his pain when Brick sliced into the man's right nipple. Niko headed for the door with images of his wife screaming in similar pain filling his mind. Stepping into the cool desert night air, he ran his finger through his hair, saying a short prayer to the Virgin for strength.

***

"Thank you, Camille," Lorette said softly. "I thought I was going to die down there."

"Don't mention it, honey," Camille returned as she finished braiding the woman's hair. "Now we just have to figure out a way to get the hell out of here."

"There's no way out. This island is in the middle of nowhere. The ocean is full of sharks. It's hopeless."

"Nothing is hopeless, Lorette. We're going to get out of here. You have to believe that."

The girl started to cry softly, her thin shoulders shaking under Camille's hands.

"I want my father," Lorette sobbed. "I want my mother back. We're trapped on an island with Satan and this is where we're going to die."

"Stop it," Camille hissed, putting her arms around the girl. "We'll get out of this, you hear me? If I know my husband, he's on his way here right now. Nothing will stop him."

The door to Camille's bedroom flew open. Alma stood on the other side of the threshold, her hands on her hips.

"Gerhardt wants you," she announced, glaring at Camille.

With a sigh, Camille stood, straightening the white dress she still wore. The morning sun was obscured by black clouds, casting an eerie glow on everything in the room. She patted Lorette's shoulder, hoping to offer the girl some reassurance.

From the smirk on Alma's face, Camille knew that this wasn't going to be an amiable chat with her former fiancé. Something in the woman's demeanor left a cold feeling in Camille's soul.