Chapter 11

"What kind of problems?" I asked Ruben as I stepped up to him.

"Karsh and Hall know you're in Vegas. You drove by Karsh's stronghold yesterday. Right?"

"Yes, once. Then we turned around and drove by again as we left. That's all. What's more, Colleen and I were disguised."

"And you weren't recognized, not until Hall returned, and then recognition was by way of deduction when Hall reviewed the video feeds from the cameras covering the street in front of the property. He recognized Sifu, Morgan, not you or Colleen, and then studied the videos and put two and two together to come up with four."

I frowned. I'd made another mistake. I'd assumed Hall wasn't in one of the surveillance vehicles following Colleen in Phoenix, that he'd directed the operation from a remote location, perhaps from a seventh vehicle that contained the tracking hardware. I knew the surveillance personnel had seen Sifu and could recognize him, but didn't believe Hall had occupied one of the vehicles. He must have been in the Camry, the one vehicle we didn't take out.

"The entire situation is a fluke," Ruben said. "From what Horace has pieced together from conversations captured by the parabolic dish and the broadcast from the driver's cell phone, Hall became suspicious when he found out one of their assassins was killed yesterday. He thinks you killed the man, Morgan."

"I did."

Ruben's eyes widened with shock.

Maria gasped. He really is a cowboy, she thought.

I said, "As we were leaving and passed by the gates of the stronghold the second time, a vehicle pulled out and fell in behind us. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. We tailed the vehicle to a downtown hotel. I returned to the hotel later and interrogated the man in his room." I outlined what I'd discovered about the assassin's assignment. "At one point in the interrogation, he thought he saw an opportunity and jumped me. He was wrong about the opportunity. I killed him. Knowing Karsh would replace the dead assassin with another, I called the target and warned her, anonymously of course. I didn't tell you or anyone about the assassin because he told me nothing that could help us with our mission. Frankly, I didn't see what happened with the assassin related to our primary effort and announcing what happened could have confused that effort. I saw the assassin as a side issue. In hindsight, that was a mistake. Does Sifu know he's been compromised?"

"No. Horace called me. I just informed you. That's it."

"What, if anything, have Karsh and Hall decided to do about my presence in Vegas?"

He shrugged.

I called Horace and asked him the same question.

"Besides screaming, cursing and breaking things, Karsh hasn't made any decisions, Morgan. I'll call you the second we hear anything. I will say this. It's not positive because we only have snippets of conversation, but Hall might have also isolated Robyn and Ruben from the videotapes he reviewed from the last week. Not by name, of course, but their faces showed up quite a few times. He figures they work for you."

"Keep me posted."

"Will do."

I told Ruben that he and Robyn had been compromised as well.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Where is Robyn right now?" I asked.

"LVPD. She's trying to put a name to the groundskeeper's face."

"Is she alone?"

"Sifu drove her."

Sifu, I said silently. Where are you?

The headquarters building for the Las Vegas Police Department.

Don't leave the building until Corny and Heather join you.

All right. Why?

Hold that thought.

"Ruben, send Corny and Heather out to cover Robyn and Sifu when they leave," I said. "Karsh does business in this town. His bodyguards are ex-cons, and they're armed, which means Karsh has purchased the cooperation of some corrupt police officials."

A look of fear and dread crossed Ruben's face. If they mess with Robyn, I'll rip them apart, he thought.

"I'm sure Robyn and Sifu are fine, Ruben. Karsh hasn't had time to distribute their photographs to his tame cops. Sending Corny and Heather to cover Robyn and Sifu is merely a precaution."

He nodded, turned and left.

Quickly and silently, I brought Sifu up to date.

An hour later, as Robyn and Sifu arrived at the mansion safe and sound, Horace called with Karsh's plans. "They're forting up, Morgan. Against Hall's advice, Karsh prefers to outwait you, either that or to entice you into attacking his stronghold. He believes he can repel a frontal assault," Horace said. "From what I've heard, Karsh fears you, Morgan. Hall doesn't. In any case, the driver will soon leave the compound to pick up the four bodyguards not currently on duty. When the driver finishes that task, he'll go back out and pick up the four off-duty gate guards. After that, it's no one in and no one out except some assassins not currently on assignment. Karsh is also calling and ordering them to the stronghold."

"Plan A just went down the crapper," I grumbled.

Corny chuckled and said, "You mentioned a Plan B earlier."

"Yeah, Plan B was my backup plan in case Karsh didn't venture out of his stronghold," I said.

"And Plan B is... ?" Corny said.

"Not completely worked out but involves the use of harassing tactics to force Karsh out of his stronghold. By going to ground, Karsh gave us freedom of movement - an advantage we should exploit." How? Asking myself the question prompted an answer. "And exploit it we shall, and right now. Ruben, Jasper is your driver. Take Corny with you. Sifu, you're my driver. I'll take Colleen with me. We'll initiate Plan B by taking out Karsh's four bodyguards and driver. Grab your weapons, ammo, body armor, communication gear - whatever. We leave in ten minutes."

"What about me?" Heather asked.

"We know the addresses for two of the gate guards that aren't on duty right now. Take Maria with you and pick them up. Use the van. One of you will need to drive. We can't bring in another driver soon enough. Take them alive if possible."

"Where will we hold them?" Heather asked.

I gave her an address. "That's a warehouse in Henderson. Eileen calls it Protect & Serve's Gitmo. Everyone, hold your questions until we're underway. We'll work out the details en route."

Do this right this time, I told myself. No more mistakes.

"Listen up, folks," I said into the wireless microphone. "Let's keep this simple. We know the bodyguards' addresses. We'll stake out one of them. Any guesses which guard will be picked up last?"

"I'd guess the guard on Eden Drive," Corny said. "He lives the closest to the stronghold. The driver will pick him up last to minimize the time spent with the vehicle crowded with four large guards and the driver."

"All right," I said. "If the driver has already picked him up, we'll skip the next two and drive to the guard who lives the farthest away. Corny, the closest guard, does he live in a house or an apartment? What's the setting?"

"An apartment project. He'll probably be waiting at the curb for his ride."

"Is there pedestrian traffic?" I asked.

"Some. A firefight could produce collateral damage, if that's what you're thinking."

"Not the way we'll do it," I said and outlined my plan. "Any suggestions?"

"Sounds good to me," Corny said.

"Speak up folks. I want your input," I said.

"That close to the armored car, Corny could be as incapacitated as the bodyguards and driver," Ruben said.

"Not could be," Corny said. "Will be. Count on it. But the effects are temporary and non-lethal. I'm willing."

After a drive-by of the pick up point, we refined the plan, and for once the plan worked picture perfect.

Wearing eyeglasses with clear lens and a fake mustache, Corny sat on a bus stop bench in front of the apartment project. When the bodyguard moved to enter the armored car for his ride to Karsh's stronghold, Corny rose to his feet, took two quick steps, and tossed a M84 Stun Grenade - more commonly known as a flash-bang - into the vehicle before the bodyguard closed the door, and then Corny made sure the door closed.

An M84 Stun Grenade is a non-fragmentation, non-lethal weapon that provides a reliable, effective means of neutralizing and disorienting bad guys. The blinding flash exceeds one million candelas, and the deafening blast ranges from 170 to 180 decibels. Corny wore earplugs and had his back to the vehicle with his eyes closed. Still, he couldn't see or hear for a few seconds and was nearly as disoriented as the occupants of the armored car.

Wearing ski masks, the rest of us converged on the vehicle immediately following the blast. We used flex cuffs to bind them and tossed a pair of them in each trunk of our sedans. I shoved the driver on the floor in the back seat of the sedan Sifu was driving, rendered him unconscious, and we drove away. The assault lasted no more than thirty seconds from beginning to end.

As Sifu drove up the ramp onto the freeway that would take us to Henderson, a suburb of Las Vegas, Heather reported that they had taken the second gate guard. Fifteen minutes later, Sifu left the freeway, and I guided him to the warehouse where we'd hold our captives.

Using a key I'd been given the day before, I unlocked the warehouse and opened an overhead door. Sifu and Jasper drove the sedans inside, and I closed the door.

"Bring the gate guards inside," I said to Heather when she drove up in the van. "There's not enough room on the warehouse floor for three vehicles."

Ruben and I checked out the warehouse. It fit our needs perfectly. I'd instructed Eileen that I'd need a place to hold Karsh, and possibly Hall, for a few days, but as Plan B started to gel in my mind, I'd expanded that requirement. I'd gotten lucky.

Sometime in the past, the immigration folks used the building to detain and interrogate illegal immigrants. Along with four holding cells, the facility offered interrogation rooms and sleeping, eating and lounging areas for guards. Each cell contained two bunk beds, a toilet and a sink. The guard areas were air-conditioned. A swamp cooler served the holding-cell area.

"How in the hell did you find this place?" Ruben asked.

"I didn't; Eileen found it. There's a downside. I had to lease the place for a year. The owner was unbendable on that issue. I caved in to his demand yesterday, signed the lease and got the keys. Let's get those brutes unloaded. We'll take them out of the vehicles one at a time, strip them, and put them in the holding cells. Start with the gate guards Heather brought in. We'll let the thugs stew for a few hours and interrogate them later."

We held the debriefing for the operation two hours later at the mansion. My entire crew sat in on the debriefing except Sifu and Maria. They'd volunteered for the first shift as guards at P&S's Gitmo. I wondered if Maria would try to trip him, and if she did, would Sifu fall willingly between her legs.

I clanked keys on a Pepsi can to get everyone's attention.

"This morning, when Karsh discovered Protect & Serve was in Vegas and had his compound under surveillance he elected to fort up. He ordered all bodyguards and gate guards into the stronghold and made calls to assassins not on assignments, ordering them to join him in the compound, as well. This reaction nullified Plan A, so we shifted to Plan B. I admit it. At that time, Plan B wasn't fully developed, but when Karsh left us free to move around at will, I elected to take out four of his bodyguards, his driver, and two of his gate guards, and we mounted an operation to that end and succeeded."

I asked Ruben to describe what happened with the armored car takedown, and Heather outlined how she and Maria captured the two gate guards.

"Those seven men are being held in a warehouse in Henderson," I said. "But before we talk about that facility and some new personnel requirements, I want to personally commend Corny. He went above and beyond and deserves our thanks. Let's give him a hand. The applause must be loud, though, because he isn't hearing very well." Amidst laughter, I started the applause and everyone joined me. Some hooting, hollering and whistling got mixed in with the clapping. I decided to tell Corny about the bonus he'd find in his bank account during a private moment later.

I described the holding and interrogation facility in detail. "Two protection operatives can easily guard the place, but that still means we need six new protectors, and we need them pronto, but before we talk about sources for the new personnel, I want to say a few words about protectors versus recovery and missing-person specialists. Protectors are and will always be the backbone of Protect & Serve, and sometimes the aggressive antics of recovery specialists, not to mention the difference in the pay, make protectors think that they are second-class citizens. Nothing could be further from the truth. When I worked alone, I took as many protection jobs as recovery assignments, and I did that purposefully, because I was trained from a boy to protect and serve. I don't consider protectors second-class citizens to those of us who face the guns of abductors. I hold protectors in very high regard. They have a different mindset that says if a protection job gets wet, it's often because the protector didn't do his job properly. So when I say I need six new protectors, I mean I need professionals, professionals like you, Dan, professionals like Mark Richardson and Maria, professionals like me when I take a protection assignment. That being said, I'm asking each of you to put on your thinking caps. Think of some names, the names of professional protectors. Call them. Tell them about Protect & Serve; ask them if they'll give us a hand. I'll hire six of them sight unseen on your recommendations alone."

I'll be dipped. He does understand and appreciate the difference, Dan Green thought.

"Now, let's talk about Plan B. Horace, we need the itineraries of the assassins flying into Las Vegas to backup their master assassin. We'll take them as they arrive and incarcerate them in Protect & Serve's Gitmo. Karsh has given us freedom of movement, so set up more listening posts, more eyes and ears. I don't care if he sees them. I want him to see them. Be creative, Horace. I want to hear and see everything that goes on in that compound. Ruben, work out an embargo plan. Let's stop or harass any deliveries to Karsh's stronghold. Nothing in, nothing out, Karsh stated. Let's help him achieve his goal. Your embargo plan should also include taking anyone who drives off the property. Jasper, we need more vehicles and more drivers. Dean, at the right time, we'll want to lob some teargas grenades into Karsh's stronghold, and although I doubt if we'd use one, let's have a rocket launcher on hand. Corny, you're in charge of harassing the stronghold. Cut his electrical power. I don't care how you do it, but I don't want to see any lights in Karsh's compound tonight unless a generator on his property powers them. Locate the valve for his main water supply and turn it off. If the water company comes out and turns it on, turn it off again after they leave. Heather, work with Ruben on the embargo. Robyn, fingerprint the men already in captivity and those we'll take later. Work with trusted sources and determine their real identities. If the law wants any of them, we'll turn them over to the law later."

I took a deep breath. "Plan B has two components. Number one. Isolate and harass. Number two. Reduce Karsh's manpower. Regardless, let's avoid any wet work, if possible. Any questions?"

"I have a question," Corny said. "What's the end goal for Plan B?"

"The same as Plan A. The name of the person who wants me dead. Karsh knows his identity. Plan B wears Karsh down, reduces his manpower, and destroys his business. Plan B forces Karsh to send Hall and the other assassins living in his stronghold out of the compound to take me. They'll come at me one at a time or in force. Regardless, we'll take them. That will leave him with four gate guards and two bodyguards, an almost manageable adversary for a bloodless frontal assault."

"Suggestion," Heather said.

"I'm listening."

"We can take the gate guards at the stronghold," she said.

I grinned. "Good thinking, Heather. Work up a plan and execute it."

Corny said, "I noticed a silenced sniper rifle in the armory. If Karsh has a generator, it'll be outside. Those suckers are noisy inside. I'll punch some holes in the generator with the rifle, but nothing harasses better than flying glass when you least expect it. I'll shoot out every window in the compound over the next couple of days."

I laughed. "Do it."

"What's security like at the warehouse?" Green asked.

"There isn't any, Dan. Work with Horace. Video cameras, intrusion alarms, a security room. You know the drill. And Dean, we'll need your help at the warehouse, too. Restraints, tasers." I chuckled. "Maybe a cattle prod. Review the situation and give me recommendations."

"Will do."

"What about food for the captives?" Colleen asked.

"Call our get-it-done gal, Colleen. Cater the food. Trays, plastic utensils and cups. Good food, though. Our protectors will eat the same food. The place has a kitchen. It'll need to be stocked. The bedrooms and bathrooms, too. And we'll need furniture, nothing fancy, utilitarian. Maria is there. Call her and ask what's needed. Jasper, use a truck to pick up and deliver the furniture and supplies. I want the warehouse stocked and fully operational as soon as possible."

I waited. No one spoke. "Okay, let's do it. I'm heading to the warehouse to start the interrogations. Dan, Horace, Dean, ride with me."

P&S's Gitmo contained two interrogation rooms with a narrow room between them for viewing interrogations through two-way mirrors. The interrogations were delayed, though, while I waited for a table and some chairs that Cal Jones lent us until we could buy our own. Jasper delivered the Jones furniture in the van.

While waiting, I made my deal with Dan Green. Maria had him pegged. He wanted to join the organization, but first he had to feel wanted and appreciated. He told me he knew two protectors who would be interested in Protect & Serve and would call them as soon as he finished working with Horace to plan security at the warehouse.

After Jasper arrived, and we set up the table and chairs in one of the interrogation rooms, Maria brought a gate guard to me. He was naked, and she'd restrained his wrists behind his back with flex cuffs, which made sitting awkward. I didn't care. Maria sat next to me.

"Tell me your name," I said to the gate guard.

Charlie, he thought but didn't speak.

"How long have you worked for Karsh?"

Six months.

"Do you want to die?"

Fear filled his eyes. He shook his head.

"Speak, don't gesture. Do you want to die?"

"No."

"I'm not a cop. I'm not shackled by the rules cops must follow. I figure that you're afraid to talk because you believe Karsh or Hall will kill you. Correct?"

He nodded.

"Speak!"

"Yes."

"Maria, do you have a knife?"

"Yes, in my purse. Are you suggesting what I hope you're suggesting?"

I'd coached Maria before the interrogation started.

I nodded toward the guard. "He fears Karsh and Hall more than he fears us. That has to change. If it doesn't, he's of no use to us." I gave the guard a hard look. "Are you aware that, for the most part, women are more ruthless than men, much more bloodthirsty?"

He gulped. "No."

"It's true. Throughout history, when captives stopped being useful, they were turned over to the women of the tribe or group, and the women did things to the captives that men couldn't even imagine, let alone do. Maria is such a woman. If you don't talk, I'll ask her to go get her knife and cut off your cock. This would please her. She'll reach between your legs, grab it, pull it out away from your body and slice that fucker right off. What would you do then, Maria?"

She smiled maliciously. "I'd stand and watch his blood spurt, but before he bled to death, I'd stuff his puny cock into his mouth and make him swallow it."

"Believe her," I said. "I've watched her do this before. So which is it? Will you talk, or shall I tell her to go get her knife?"

He talked.

The other gate guard was just as accommodating.

Robyn arrived to fingerprint our captives to, hopefully, verify their identities, so when the gate guards gave me the names of the bodyguards, I asked Robyn to do a quick dossier on them before I brought them into the interrogation room. The law wanted all four men. They'd broken parole, and from their prison tattoos, I figured they were all members of the Aryan Brotherhood.

Maria had to knick the first guard's cock before he talked, and we let him tell the other bodyguards what had happened to him and what they could expect before we interrogated the other three. Except for one of them, they didn't hesitate and answered my questions with honest answers. One tried to lie, but his thoughts gave me the truth, and before I finished interrogating him, he was falling all over himself giving me information I didn't even asked for.

The driver gave us more information than the other captives, including the real or work names and functions of everyone in Karsh's compound, as well as their cell phone numbers. I gave the phone numbers to Horace to monitor or turn into microphones. Besides the groundskeeper, Karsh employed a cook and a housekeeper. According to Robyn, all three were ex-cons, and all three had broken parole. The bodyguards took turns monitoring the video feeds, so the additional security personnel I'd anticipated didn't exist.

As soon as the gate guards gave me the names and addresses of the two off-duty gate guards we hadn't picked up, I sent Corny and Heather out to take them. Heather brought them into P&S Gitmo before I finished interrogating the seven men we'd already captured. I turned their interrogation over to Dan and Heather, and Sifu drove Maria and me back to the mansion.

I stood disguised as a nerd just outside the secured area of a concourse at McCarran International Airport waiting for the arrival of the first assassin Karsh had ordered to Vegas. We knew his work name but not his appearance, so I scanned the thoughts of the arriving passengers as they streamed by me.

I'd arrived at the airport with Sifu and Colleen. With anyone else, I would have been forced to explain how I found someone I didn't know, and as it was, I might be asked later how I did it. The only plausible explanation I'd thought of so far was to say that I'd had the assassin paged, and the fool had responded to the page. I hoped no one would ask.

The assassin wasn't difficult to locate. He wasn't happy, and Karsh was the source of his ire. The last place he wanted to be was in Vegas forted up with Karsh waiting for a frontal assault that he had to help repel. I'd expected a fit young man with cold, clear eyes. What I saw was a rumpled, middle-aged man with cold, dead eyes. He was altogether unremarkable, the type no one notices - probably a good way to look in his racket, I thought upon reflection.

I found him, I announced silently to Sifu and Colleen, and then described him. We'll call him Uncle Harry.

I followed him to baggage claim, and kept Sifu posted. He drove the sedan into position while the assassin and I waited for his luggage.

I'm in position, Sifu said.

Passengers clamored around the baggage carousel as luggage started to spit out of its bowels on a conveyor belt. I pretended to be jostled by someone and whacked the assassin's temple with my elbow. As he went down, I made sure he was unconscious by pressing my fingers to his neck.

"Uncle Harry!" I exclaimed just after I dumped a small amount of whiskey on his neck and upper chest from a flask. I pocketed the flask and pulled him to his feet, putting one of his arms over my shoulder and my arm around his waist to make it appear that I was helping him walk.

"My uncle," I said to a skycap and some other passengers. "He's had a little too much to drink." I repeated the explanation to an airport security worker as I carried him outside.

Colleen spotted us and hopped from the sedan. "Oh, Uncle Harry!" she said, looking disgusted as she helped me with the unconscious man. "Drunk again, huh?"

At P&S Gitmo, we stripped Uncle Harry and sat him in a restraint chair Dean had dug up for us. The chair was on rollers and restrained a prisoner's feet, wrists, abdomen and shoulders. We rolled the assassin to an interrogation room and set the brakes.

"He doesn't look big or strong enough to assassinate anyone," Dan said.

"Few naked, middle-aged men do," Colleen said as if she had a lot of experience with naked middle-aged men. I figured I'd tease her about her comment later. "He's coming around, cowboy."

"Leave us," I said. I'd instructed Colleen and Sifu to stop anyone from entering the viewing room. I figured telepathy would be required to crack the assassin, and I didn't want any witnesses.

He opened his cold, dead eyes and looked around, not with fear but with curiosity.

"I'm Morgan," I said.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," he said, his voice calm and modulated but on the high end of the scale for a man. "I'm Ferguson."

"That's your work name. Tell me your real name."

Give him a name, any name. "Shane. Thomas Shane."

"That's a lie. Give me your real name."

Give him another name. "Sorry. It's Jedediah Smith. With a name like Jedediah, you can understand why I don't admit to it very often."

"You're still lying. How old are you?"

Forty-eight. Forty-nine in May. "Fifty. I'll be fifty-one next April."

I smiled. "Ferguson, you are an adept liar."

He returned my smile. "Thank you."

"Neither Thomas nor Jedediah is your first name. What is it?"

Richard. "My mother, bless her heart, was a saint. She knew I disliked my full name and called me Jed."

"All right, Jed. Smith as a last name is so silly that it's almost believable, but it isn't your last name. What is your last name?"

Twilley, now that's silly. "Believe it, Morgan. It's Smith."

I stood up and left the room.

"Is Robyn still here?"

"No, she's back at the mansion, I think," Dan said.

I called her. "The assassin's real name is Richard Twilley. He's forty-eight and was born in May. I don't' know the day. His work name is Ferguson. No first name."

"I'll get right on it."

I found a cold can of Pepsi in the refrigerator in the kitchen - Colleen looking out for me when she stocked the kitchen, I figured. I popped the tab, took a drink and returned to the interrogation room.

"On the job, eh?" the assassin said when he saw the soft drink.

"Yep. Karsh is in deep shit, you know. He went to ground instead of facing me. Big mistake!"

Richard Twilley laughed gaily. "Accepting a contract to kill you was the big mistake."

"You wouldn't happen to know the principal's name, would you?"

"No, more's the pity. I suspect I could trade that name for my life."

Sifu, Colleen, he believes I'll kill him, and he isn't afraid at all, I said silently.

Perhaps he wants to die, Sifu said.

Why? I asked.

Ask him, Colleen said.

"You're not afraid of death," I said. "Why?"

He shrugged, as much as the shoulder restraints allowed, that is. "Life isn't all it's cracked up to be. Although I'm not an avid believer in an afterlife, I am curious. What about you, Morgan? Do you believe in a compassionate God? A Heaven and a Hell?"

I laughed. "You're a real piece of work, Richard Twilley."

He gasped. "How... ? No one... !"

I stood up and left the room. Robyn answered my call on the first ring. "What?"

"Give me what you've got on him."

"Oh, Morgan, sorry. I thought... never mind. Richard Preston Twilley. Born 23 May 1957 in Cedar City, Utah. Your assassin, believe it or not, Morgan, was raised as a Mormon. Father's name, Aaron. Mother's, Edna. Both deceased. Six siblings. Mormons tend to large families. Five sisters, all older. Karen, Jennifer, Gina, Susan, and Barbara - from oldest to youngest. Then Richard came along followed by Steven, the youngest. Steven died at twelve. Leukemia. All five sisters are still alive, all married in a Mormon temple. Your boy has twenty-one nieces and nephews. At eighteen, he graduated from high school in Cedar City, and then joined the Army. Honorable discharge three years later. Came out an E-4."

"What was his job in the Army?"

"Ordnance supply. That's all I've dug up so far."

"Is he an ex-con or wanted by the law?"

"Nope, clean as a whistle."

"Thanks, I'll get back to you."

I returned to the interrogation room, sat down and gave Twilley a hard look. "Do Karen, Jennifer, Gina, Susan and Barbara know that you are an assassin, Richard?"

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Paul Phenomenon

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