Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) by Bernard Lee DeLeo
Authors: Bernard Lee DeLeo
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towards a closed cupboard door. Nick checked, and found an entire selection of booze.
“What can I get you?”
“The Jack Daniels would be very good,” Zarin said, backing away from the cupboard to give Nick room. “It would taste very good right now. Thank you for your kindness.”
Nick took out the bottle of Jack Daniels, and found a set of glasses in the upper set of cupboards a few seconds later. He poured a triple shot for Zarin into a glass. He gave Zarin a gulp, watching the distaste at first, followed by grim satisfaction.
“Yes. That is very good.” Zarin accepted another healthy gulp of Jack Daniels. He looked into Nick’s eyes. “Could you simply shoot me in the head after I finish this drink, Sir? I have nothing else to tell you. If I did, I would say so.”
Nick helped him gulp down the rest in the glass. “Let’s talk about that. How would you like to find God in something else than death?”
Zarin’s eyes widened, but he looked down immediately. “Please do not play with me as a cat does a mouse. I know what I have done is beyond redemption in your eyes. If I could but get a quick death, I will be done with this living death sentence.”
“I’m not playing a game. I could use someone like you. It will mean an abstract change in everything you’ve ever been taught. More importantly for you, it would mean survival.”
Zarin shrugged with inebriated smile. “I am happy if I can live. If you can let me live, I am your man.”
“It will probably mean at times fighting against the people you are now working for. Trust will be earned at a slow pace, and you will be averse to many of the things I do.”
“What? Did I hear right? You’re recruiting? Are you out of your El Muerto mind?” Gus’s rapid fire questions at significantly louder volume had Nick cringing.
Nick held up a finger to Zarin. “Would you please tone your discourse down, Payaso? Calm the hell down. We need a guy with us not too thrilled with being brought up in the death cult.”
“For God’s sake, Nick, what if he’s playing you, dimwit? Sorry… sorry,” Gus said. “That’s uncalled for. I know you have excellent instincts, but being wrong in a circumstance like this would be horrific. What do you have planned, taking him home like a lost puppy?”
“What he said,” Paul added with amusement in his voice.
“We’ll work this slowly, monitoring my new recruit,” Nick said. “I don’t think he’s playing us. A new life where all you’ve known is death can be an incredible life changing experience, right Ebi?”
Zarin shook his head in the affirmative with vigor, all for the cam’s view Gus and Paul had on their screen. “I swear a blood oath! I am your man from now until death. If I could cleanse my soul of innocent deaths I am responsible for perhaps… I might find peace.”
Nick removed the plastic tie binding Zarin’s wrists at his back with Gus muttering comical forecasts of doom in his ear, accompanied by muffled laughter from Paul Gilbrech.
“You’re going to feed him and clean up after your new pet, Muerto. I’m not taking care of him for you. Deke won’t like him. Mark my words – he’ll bite the hand that feeds him. You can’t teach old dogs new tricks. Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas, Muerto.”
“Please stop before I come out there and shoot you in the head. Get your clown mask, and black hoodie, Payaso. The ending to this grim tale is at hand. My new recruit is going to film us as I take care of the one who ordered Cinny’s death.”
By the time Gus arrived down in the terrorist’s chamber, Nick and Zarin had lined the dead Isis cell members in a bloody grouping by the wall. Sherazi knelt in front of them, his ankles and wrists plastic tied at his back with duct tape over his mouth. Nick was in the process of showing Zarin how to record the movie with his iPad.
“This is my partner, Gus. He’ll be a little standoffish for a time, Ebi,” Nick said. “We’ll need
“What can I get you?”
“The Jack Daniels would be very good,” Zarin said, backing away from the cupboard to give Nick room. “It would taste very good right now. Thank you for your kindness.”
Nick took out the bottle of Jack Daniels, and found a set of glasses in the upper set of cupboards a few seconds later. He poured a triple shot for Zarin into a glass. He gave Zarin a gulp, watching the distaste at first, followed by grim satisfaction.
“Yes. That is very good.” Zarin accepted another healthy gulp of Jack Daniels. He looked into Nick’s eyes. “Could you simply shoot me in the head after I finish this drink, Sir? I have nothing else to tell you. If I did, I would say so.”
Nick helped him gulp down the rest in the glass. “Let’s talk about that. How would you like to find God in something else than death?”
Zarin’s eyes widened, but he looked down immediately. “Please do not play with me as a cat does a mouse. I know what I have done is beyond redemption in your eyes. If I could but get a quick death, I will be done with this living death sentence.”
“I’m not playing a game. I could use someone like you. It will mean an abstract change in everything you’ve ever been taught. More importantly for you, it would mean survival.”
Zarin shrugged with inebriated smile. “I am happy if I can live. If you can let me live, I am your man.”
“It will probably mean at times fighting against the people you are now working for. Trust will be earned at a slow pace, and you will be averse to many of the things I do.”
“What? Did I hear right? You’re recruiting? Are you out of your El Muerto mind?” Gus’s rapid fire questions at significantly louder volume had Nick cringing.
Nick held up a finger to Zarin. “Would you please tone your discourse down, Payaso? Calm the hell down. We need a guy with us not too thrilled with being brought up in the death cult.”
“For God’s sake, Nick, what if he’s playing you, dimwit? Sorry… sorry,” Gus said. “That’s uncalled for. I know you have excellent instincts, but being wrong in a circumstance like this would be horrific. What do you have planned, taking him home like a lost puppy?”
“What he said,” Paul added with amusement in his voice.
“We’ll work this slowly, monitoring my new recruit,” Nick said. “I don’t think he’s playing us. A new life where all you’ve known is death can be an incredible life changing experience, right Ebi?”
Zarin shook his head in the affirmative with vigor, all for the cam’s view Gus and Paul had on their screen. “I swear a blood oath! I am your man from now until death. If I could cleanse my soul of innocent deaths I am responsible for perhaps… I might find peace.”
Nick removed the plastic tie binding Zarin’s wrists at his back with Gus muttering comical forecasts of doom in his ear, accompanied by muffled laughter from Paul Gilbrech.
“You’re going to feed him and clean up after your new pet, Muerto. I’m not taking care of him for you. Deke won’t like him. Mark my words – he’ll bite the hand that feeds him. You can’t teach old dogs new tricks. Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas, Muerto.”
“Please stop before I come out there and shoot you in the head. Get your clown mask, and black hoodie, Payaso. The ending to this grim tale is at hand. My new recruit is going to film us as I take care of the one who ordered Cinny’s death.”
By the time Gus arrived down in the terrorist’s chamber, Nick and Zarin had lined the dead Isis cell members in a bloody grouping by the wall. Sherazi knelt in front of them, his ankles and wrists plastic tied at his back with duct tape over his mouth. Nick was in the process of showing Zarin how to record the movie with his iPad.
“This is my partner, Gus. He’ll be a little standoffish for a time, Ebi,” Nick said. “We’ll need
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