Chapter 5

Mr. Hudson, Assistant Secretary of DHS arrived at exactly seven p.m. and one second. Punctuality was apparently his trademark. The man with him could have been his clone. Both men were about six feet tall, just under two-hundred pounds, and looked fit as a fiddle. Their black suits almost matched.

Introductions didn't take long, and Colleen joined me on one sofa in the family room, as the two visitors took the opposing one.

Mr. Hudson wasted no time, "Judge Jones sends his regards. He also has given me very strict instructions about this meeting. Your ... friend, Dr. Rebecca Temple, recently committed suicide.

It came to our attention almost as soon as it happened. Because of your 'special relationship' with us, we keep a very close eye on things that happen to your family. "Dr. Temple, as we came to discover, suffered from emotional distress that caused her to leave your home, and ultimately take her own life. What you don't know and we recently found out, is that she was being blackmailed..."

I went white hot inside. Colleen grabbed my hand and gasped, and I could feel my entire body stiffen up, as the Director went on.

"It seems one of the people that has been tormenting your family, was connected through the bank that Grayson Foster owned, and has been blackmailing Rebecca over a love affair she was involved in during the time she lived here.

"Our agents have been investigating the circumstances of Dr. Temple's death and followed a trail of communication that ultimately led Dr. Temple to leave your home, trying to insulate your family from the blackmailer by putting distance between you.

"Dr. Temple was involved with an employee at the local mall, and the blackmailer found out - by pure accident we suppose - and forced her into a sexual relationship with himself, in order to keep the affair from coming to your attention.

"I can see this comes as a surprise to you, and I'm sorry, Brian, but it gets much worse. The blackmailer began to invite others to join in and abuse Dr. Temple. We have a full report for your review, but it looks like the additional participants pushed her over the edge to suicide.

"We have given all the information to your Head of Security, Jack, and I'm sure you and he will choose how to proceed.

"One thing, the perpetrator of this worked directly for the people that controlled Grayson Foster, and may have significant information that would be of interest to us..."

I understood exactly what he wanted and said, "Should we stumble on any information that would be of interest to the United States Government, I will personally see to it that it goes directly to you.

"And, thank you, Mr. Secretary."

He thanked us for our time and left without another word.

Colleen and I stared at one another for a long time. She was silently crying while I burned inside. Jack walked in and sat across from us, waiting for me to speak. Colleen beat me to it.

"You HAVE to find these people and make them suffer for hurting Rebecca. You Have To. Promise me you will make them sorry for hurting my Rebecca.

"Promise!"

Jack nodded and waited for my thoughts.

"It looks like we need to call Roy and breakout a new case of Coke," was all I said.

Jack looked hard at me, nodded, and left to make arrangements.

Colleen cried all night. Winnie, Millie, and I all held her through her tears. Hearing the sordid details of Rebecca's torment was more than she could take, and her sobs racked her body for hours, until sleep blessedly released her for a little while. Seeing how bereft she was made my rage even uglier.

Winnie tried to reason with me, sometime late into the night. It didn't make much of an impact on me.

"Brian, you can't hate so much that you lose the ability to love. Don't allow those ... PIGS ... to turn you into them. Do what you have to do, but preserve your humanity. Jack knows what to do, and will use the necessary violence to see that it is done, and done right. You don't have to be the hand of God on those people. They'll be just as dead, either way."

She had a point and I promised to think about it, seriously.

And I did...

Then I went back to planning their everlasting demise.

That didn't take long, either. The people who did those things to my Rebecca never left town.

Because everybody got arrested and nothing was tied to them, they felt untouchable, and continued to work in the shadows.

Roy and his, Off–The-Books Crew took them quickly and quietly, calling Jack to let us know where we could find them. Jack let me know it was time, and called Roy to tell him we'd be there, soon.

"Take your time," Roy advised. "They're not going anywhere - not alive, anyway – I promise."

The night air felt good on my face as we approached the abandoned farmhouse. Jack was driving without lights, on instincts, because he certainly couldn't see. Our backup was just behind us, covering our rear end.

The cool air refreshed me. I checked my watch and was not surprised to see that it was three-twenty four a.m. What was it about three-twenty four?

They were in a huge, old, hay barn, out in the middle of a huge, old, abandoned farm. The land was being used as graze, but the owners were currently out of the country, and wouldn't be back until the soil we'd be turning up soon was covered and impossible to notice.

Roy met us the moment Jack pulled to a stop. "Jack, Brian. It seems to me you used to have a different name, but then, what do I know about names – neither one of us was there anywaze?"

He laughed. It sounded a little forced.

Maybe the stress of the day finally caught up with the scariest man I ever met.

"Your friends are inside. We built a quiet room. No need to worry about noise or light escaping. They have no idea why we snatched them, so whatever you say to get them talking will come out of left field."

Roy handed me a tazer and a brand new set of pliers. When he caught me examining the brand new tool he smiled, then took it back when he saw death in my eyes. "Damn," he said to Jack.

"This one is madder than the last time. He's got him some issues that even that bald doctor on Oprah couldn't cure. I am very glad he's here to see our 'guests, ' and not me. Something tells me they are not going to have a nice day..."

Jack covered my back, while Roy led us to their quiet room. When we entered, we stood in front of the bright lights, so they couldn't see our faces. It wasn't going to matter either way. The quiet room was roughly ten by fifteen, furnished in modern American junk furniture, and brightly lit by temporary spotlights pointed in their faces. My hands hook as the rage took hold and changed me back into the guy who went into the bunker in the Everglades to deal with Tim Sanderson.

There were six men shackled to wooden chairs. Left to right, Roy had them lined up in order of importance. The most important was on my far right.

I left him for last.

Jack touched my shoulder as I stepped forward. "Make them sweat a while. When you hit the first one, don't tell them what you want. Just hurt him really bad, and then move on down the line to get their attention.

"By the time you start to ask questions they will so anxious to answer you won't have to think up questions. They'll be confessing to everything they've ever done, just to try and get you to stop."

I smiled my thanks, and Jack stepped back like he was afraid I might start with him. My face must have had an evil expression on it.

I walked to the one on my left and looked him over for a little while. That threw him off and he started to speak, but it changed into an agonized scream when the tazer bit into his left nipple. Wanting to have their full attention, I pulled the trigger several times, then relented and watched him flop around, trying to breathe.