Four Killing Birds Read online

  "I've been to Daintree before," Cy said. "The jungle is really dense out there, not like here where it's been cleared over the centuries. You said there's a footpath—how wide?"

  "About six feet in most places." I'd done some aerial imaging by hacking into a couple of spy satellites. "It will be a tight squeeze. I think Gin and I can manage it though."

  Dak leaned back against his chair. "Any idea about the training of their bodyguards? Former Mossad? Blackwater? Ex-CIA? Anything?"

  I shook my head. "The dossier said nothing about it. We're lucky to have any information, actually."

  "This is exactly why we needed you guys," Gin said triumphantly. "We would've just shot or stabbed them. But since we are using the cassowary attack to make it look a bit more like an accident, we should be careful with the guards."

  "My guess would be former Russian or Israeli types. Mossad or KGB," Cy mused. "They'll probably have martial arts and Krav Maga training."

  I frowned. "I'd rather you took them out suddenly and avoided any hand-to-hand combat. That could get messy, and they could call for backup."

  Dak grinned. "Well, Missi—then it's up to you—what kind of toys do you have for us to use?"

  I laughed. I was the family's inventor and over my tenure had come up with a lot of ways to take out the bad guys. "Let's head to the lab and see!"

  They got up and followed. It was fun to do this again. Not that my lab wasn't used—I still experimented almost daily. My sons and husband often joined me. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve…

  "What?" Gin asked in surprise as we entered the small building that served as my lab. "No secret passwords to get in?"

  I shrugged. "Haven't needed them for a while." I held up my hand to show them my palm. "Palm-recognition on the door knob. Only I can open it." I'd kept it that way. The twins, even though they were twenty now, were still too mischievous to allow inside unsupervised. And Lex never came here without me. He had his own hobbies.

  We walked through the room filled with shelves, tables, and boxes. I picked through a few things here and there.

  "Hey!" Dak called out behind me, "What's this?" In his right hand he held a small, shiny sphere.

  "Dak," I warned, "put that down slowly this instant."

  My cousin did exactly that. He wasn't stupid. None of these things were toys…unless you consider weapons to be toys…which the Bombays did for millennia up until now.

  "What does it do?" Gin asked, a bit amused.

  I shrugged. "It melts you. Into a puddle of goo."

  Dak wiped his hands on his shorts. "Why do you even have that lying around?" He sounded a bit wounded.

  "It's a death lab, Dak. Duh." I rolled my eyes and moved on until I came to a large rubber bin. "Here's something I think we can use"

  I reached in and pulled out a small black plastic square. It was two inches in length and width, with a light gray button on the side with an arrow on it.

  "You hold this against your target and depress the button. A short hypodermic needle pops out and pricks the skin, sending a fast acting cardiac arrest poison into the bloodstream. Vic goes down in seconds and has a heart attack. Easy."

  Cy took the box from me carefully. "But won't an autopsy find the puncture wound? They'll know our vic was injected."

  I shook my head. "No, they won't. I've added a coagulant that acts like a clotting agent, but for skin. It's a synthetic skin that will seal up the hole and dissolve any bruising."

  "Like your muscle cream!" Gin clapped her hands. "Brilliant!"

  "How many do you have?" Dak asked as he gingerly took the box from Cy.

  "Four—but you'll each only need one." I pulled out a small, clear case that snapped over the box. "This will keep it from stabbing you inside your pocket. And I suggest that after you inject the vic, you hold a hand over his mouth so he doesn't make noise. I've been meaning to add something that would paralyze the vocal cords, but I haven't done it yet."

  "The trick will be sneaking up on them," Cy said. "They'll likely have their backs to the door and will be facing us. There's only one way in, according to the blueprints."

  I nodded. "I'll leave that up to you. I'd use knockout gas, but I'm afraid the ventilation isn't good there and a thorough investigator would still find traces of it hours later."

  "Where do we dump the bodies after?" Dak asked Cy. The two men began to speculate, so Gin and I continued farther into my lab.

  "You said you had something for illumination?" Gin asked.

  "Oh yeah!" I snapped my fingers. "Now where did I put that?"

  It took me about ten minutes to locate the device. My filing system is a bit strange to most people, and I do that on purpose to confuse anyone who isn't me. It's very effective.

  "Here it is!" I held up a small, dark green burlap bag.

  "What is it?" Gin asked.

  "My forest floor moonlight simulator." I tugged at the side of the bag causing it to open and flatten. A dull, misshapen but circular glow appeared on the surface. I set it on the floor.

  "I came up with the idea when I was hiking at night. I thought I could make something that blended with the ground foliage that simulated pools of moonlight. And I did! It makes midnight hiking much easier."

  Gin looked at me curiously, "Why do you hike at midnight? Don't you know this jungle by heart?"

  I shrugged. "I have insomnia sometimes. There aren't as many mosquitos that late at night either. It just seemed like something to do."

  "So, we put these out along the trail?" Gin picked up and examined the bag. "They really do look like splashes of moonlight."

  I nodded. "Yeah. We'll have to do it just before we take the cassowaries out. I only have six and the light lasts for about an hour and a half before it fades."

  "Leaving us with only ninety minutes to get the birds there, have them do their thing, and get back," Gin said. "Not much time."

  I nodded. "I agree. Dak and Cy will have to work their magic first and signal us when the coast is clear. That should shave some time off." I was grateful Gin had insisted we get help. The guys would make things much easier.

  "How did you get the moonlight effect?" Gin asked.

  "I got the idea from lightening bugs. I used a polymer phosphorus blend that…"

  Gin interrupted me. "Sorry I asked. My brain can't process your genius." She called to Cy and Dak, "Let's get back to Missi's apartment. I want to run through this whole thing before we have to start getting the birds ready to go." She looked at me and blushed. "Sorry! You're in charge! Couldn't help myself there."

  "No problem. I think that's exactly what we should do. Cy can make us lunch." I winked at my cousin who nodded. Cy liked to cook and was good at it. I'd been hoping he would do it while here.

  Back at my place, I spread out the maps on the dining room table while Cy threw together some pasta for lunch. He really was a genius with food. We munched as we looked at the setup of the private club.

  "If we're going in ahead of you"—Dak pointed at the blueprint—"we will need a few minutes to distract and take out the guards, and remove their bodies." He frowned. "I don't see any closets or anything to hide them in, and we have to be out of your way before you bring the birds in, because we'd freak them out, right?"

  I nodded. "I don't want them to attack you." We couldn't afford any mistakes, and we had to remain completely silent until the moment we let the birds in.

  Cy leaned forward. "There's another connecting hallway here that leads to the more public area of the club, and there are some rooms on either side. The trick will be trying not to be seen by the staff."

  "The club has very few people over the holidays. They are doing this as a special favor. The staff on hand will be a chef, two waiters, and the manager, in addition to LEOPOLD's private security. And I don't know how many of those there will be."

  We finished eating, and Cy brought us some tea while we thought about it. We had the plan, we had the weapons, we just didn't have the boys' part down.
That worried me.

  "I'd be willing to bet," Cy said slowly, "that they will have two men at the entrance to the room, two at the entrance to the hallway, two at the door into the building, and two walking the perimeter."

  Dak nodded. "Eight guys. And we'll have to take them all out. How many times can we reuse the little black boxes?"

  "They automatically refill each time you retract them," I answered. "You can use each one about ten times before you're out of juice."

  "We may need more time scheduled out before you ladies arrive with your four gentlemen friends."

  Gin laughed. "Yes, Missi and I have two 'bodyguards' each."

  "Well"—I tapped my chin, thinking—"we could wait to leave until we get a signal from you two. But that adds ten minutes to our time. Do you think LEOPOLD will summon their guards at all?"

  "Not until they want their escorts to come in," Dak said. "At least, that's how I'd do it."

  Gin shot him a look. Apparently, she didn't want to know how her brother would deal with prostitutes.

  "The escorts are scheduled for midnight," Gin said slowly, "so dinner will be done and cleared. That means less staff around…"

  We continued to plan for an hour more. We still didn't have the problem of what to do with the eight guards worked out, but it was getting late and the guys wanted to see the cassowaries.

  Poppy led the way, barking happily as we followed her to the birds. I held us back in a copse of trees about fifty yards away as the pug kept running up to the pen. She flopped onto her belly and wiggled underneath the fence. Kevin was carrying around Gin's book and dropped it when he saw her. The birds went crazy canoodling with Poppy, and the dog wagged her tail furiously.

  "They love Poppy," Gin explained. And it was with no small amount of pride that I watched as she introduced the boys to the boys.

  "That's Beowulf," she said, "Bulvai, Hrothgar, and the one sitting on Poppy is Kevin."

  "Kevin?" Dak asked.

  "They're all males…" Cy observed. "Fascinating animals!"

  Beowulf was squawking to Kevin, who was still sitting on the pug. Apparently he was bogarting Poppy and the others wanted a chance at her. Hrothgar and Bulvai paced indignantly.

  "Is that a TV in there?" Dak asked.

  "How did I not notice that before?" Gin asked. We were in a different area than we'd been before. I only had one TV jerry-rigged to withstand the birds, and this was where it was.

  I nodded. "They love to watch Gilligan's Island. They watch it over and over. I set up a button so they can tap it with their beaks to get to the next episode."

  My cousins stared at me. I ignored them. "For a while, they only liked the black and white episodes. Now they only watch it in color." I pointed at one of the birds. "Bulvai has a bit of a thing for Mary Ann. Whenever she comes on, he gets in front of the TV and blocks the other birds from seeing."

  As if on cue, Hrothgar tapped the television, and the theme song launched. All four birds forgot about Poppy for a moment and crowded the TV.

  "Are they…dancing?" Cy asked.

  "Yeah," I answered. "They kind of get in a row and floof their feathers and squawk when the theme song comes on." It looked a little like a bizarre country-western line dance. I had no other way to describe it.

  Gin called to Poppy, and the pug left under extreme protest. All four cassowaries tore themselves away from the TV and raced to the fence, squawking heatedly. I needed them to calm down before Gin and I loaded them up later, so we headed back to the condos to get ready for our trip.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Cy and Dak pushed a large cage on wheels up to the cassowary enclosure. I'd fitted the back end with a covering cloth so the birds wouldn't see the guys. Gin and I maneuvered the birds into the cage. Just before closing the door, Poppy jumped into the cage with them.

  Gin started to protest, but upon seeing that the little dog had a calming effect on the birds, she let the pug stay. We lowered the cloth to cover all four sides and hooked the cage up to a golf cart. The four of us drove to the airfield, where everyone was loaded onto the plane. We were airborne in minutes.

  The four of us spent the whole seventeen hour flight going over the plans until we had them memorized. When we weren't going over the plans or eating, we rested. There was a lot to do once we landed. Dak had brought a couple of movies with him—the usual Bombay family fare of Zulu and Zulu Dawn. I slept through most of that.

  Everything looked good. It seemed like we had a workable plan that we could execute fairly easily. But that means nothing to a Bombay. We are used to having things go wrong, so we are never at ease. This isn't because we are incompetent—it's just that after four thousand years of hired work, we've learned that things rarely go according to plan. This is why our family has survived in the field for so long. Expect the unexpected.

  On the other hand, this was our one chance at this hit. It was the mother of all assignments, and it was the last assignment. We wouldn't get a chance to try again later. This was it. It's really enough to make an assassin nervous if you think about it.

  After landing in Australia, Gin retrieved Poppy from the cassowary cage, and we drove to the private home I'd rented. We loaded the birds into a barn on the property and heaved a collective sigh once inside the house. We had arrived.

  The house was gorgeous—owned by a very wealthy New Zealander who never visited. He just liked the idea that he owned an expensive home in Australia. The décor was a sort of Victorian African hunting lodge with taxidermied big game animals in various poses all over the house. We were too tired to even make fun of it all, so we hit four of the guest rooms and passed out.

  Every single one of us was up early the next morning. It was Christmas Eve, and we still had some recon to do. Coney whipped up some amazing omelets from the fully stocked kitchen as we talked about the day.

  Gin and I took Poppy and a couple of bowls of fruit to the barn to check on the birds. It had been late and dark when we checked in, which was why we were surprised to find that the barn was almost as nice as the house—complete with air-conditioning and cathedral ceilings and skylights. I'd never seen a barn like this and was a bit concerned the birds would get spoiled.

  Bulvai and Hrothgar had made enormous nests from the straw left there. Each of them raced for Poppy when the dog ran in, both trying to herd her into their own nest. Beowulf was pecking at a big screen TV in the corner, and Kevin allowed Gin to feed him by hand.

  "I think you're going to owe the owner a new TV," Gin said as Beowulf, now frustrated that the machine wasn't turning on, had decided to knock it to the ground and proceeded to disembowel it with his claws.

  I smirked at my cousin as we left and locked up the barn. Poppy had refused to come with us, and I hoped she would distract Beowulf from the fact he was missing his "stories."

  Coney and Dak were ready to go when we got back. It was time to check out our target. The idea was that we were two couples on vacation. It was summer here, so that wouldn't be too hard to believe.

  We found the path to the resort and took it, taking note where we would drop our lights later that night. We emerged from the woods at the back end of the building. A long wall surrounded it, and there was only one entrance. That doorway was guarded by a large, thick-necked man who had clearly had his nose broken one too many times. Cy stepped away from us and approached the man.

  Gin and I oohed and ahhed over the flora while Dak did his best impression of a bored American. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Cy bummed a light from the guard and returned to us.

  We continued on toward the beach, hugging the perimeter of the wall surrounding the building.

  "He's Blackwater." Cy laughed as he stubbed the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe.

  Dak nodded. "What a joke. Why do they use those idiots?"

  Cy shook his head. "Don't know. Maybe they got a good deal? My experience with these kind of guys like LEOPOLD is that one, they're cheap, and two, after sixty years
with no attempts on them, they think they're safe."

  "We really should check the guard at the other gate to make sure they aren't a mixed bag security team," Dak added.

  As we came around the corner, we spotted two guards wearing the same black chinos and T-shirts as the other one. These two sported thick, wavy hairdos that obviously took a lot of work every day.

  Gin grinned at her brother. "Your turn kiddo. These are your kind of guys!"

  Dak laughed and while Cy, Gin, and I made for the beachside bar, he headed in the direction of the guards.

  The Barefoot Bar was a shack on the beach surrounded by Adirondack chairs and tiki torches. Gin and I sat in two chairs facing the beach while Cy went over to buy drinks. He returned with four ridiculous, brightly colored monstrosities, each sporting two little umbrellas and a crazy straw.

  "Really?" Gin asked as she took one of the drinks.

  Cy nodded with a grin and handed me a huge neon purple concoction that also had giant hibiscus blossoms clinging to it. He sat in the chair next to Gin—a chair that faced Dak and the guards.

  "We are tourists, Gin." Cy said as he took a sip of a frighteningly orange drink that seemed to bubble over a fake coconut shell.

  "What's he doing?" I asked about Dak. He'd been there a bit longer than he should've, and I couldn't see what was going on.

  "The two thugs are laughing," Cy said nonchalantly. "Apparently, Dak is amusing."

  Gin frowned. "Well, he's making a spectacle of himself, and we need him to come back before he sticks in their memories."

  Cy took another drink. "You know, cousin, your brother has been a competent assassin for years. He's not your baby brother. He's got this."

  Gin looked like she was going to argue, then changed her mind and took a drink. I supposed she hadn't thought about Dak as anything other than her annoying brother. I didn't have any siblings and felt a stab of envy. I guess if you have a brother who's an architect and you only remember his Lincoln log houses collapsing, you'd forget he was a trained professional and think he couldn't build anything. I trusted Dak, but I wanted him to get his ass back to us before this got weird.