Mind Kill- Rise of the Marauder

by Peter Casilio

  Sobbing, O’Connor stood and walked to Mitchelli. “She wanted you to have these.” She placed two pills in his mouth, gently rubbing her fingers along his lips. “I’m sorry, babe.” She delicately ran her fingers across Mitchelli’s forehead, around his face to his neck, “I’m so sorry, you have kids don’t you?” She knew everything about Peter Mitchelli; it was her job to know. “I’ll help you, just tell him where the shipment is. I’ll do everything I can to help your kids, I have money; just tell him so this horror can end.”

  Handly heard O’Connor’s comments, “Katherine what the hell are you doing? This is how we have made millions. This got you out of kittyporn sent you to school. It pays for your fancy clothes and personal trainers. Frick him and his bitch, this is business.” Handly was confused by O’Connor’s emotions.

  “Leo, you’re clueless. I’m leaving. Leo, have them put his woman in your truck.” She didn’t look at Handly when she spoke; instead she stared at Mitchelli’s face.

  “You’re not frickin’ leaving until I decide. We’ll leave together, what the hell got up your ass?”

  “He told me if I take her away, that’s the only chance you have of finding your shipment. She doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t be stupid.”

  Handly motioned and two guards picked up Butaninni’s lifeless body and carried her to the Land Rover just outside the gate.

  O’Connor watched as they placed the lifeless body in the rear compartment, then looked at Mitchelli. “I’ll take care of her. I can’t help you now.” Her eyes were swollen with tears. “I knew, but never realized the consequences.” Mitchelli died with Butaninni’s lifeless body. O’Connor looked into his eyes, deep into his soul. She quivered from the emptiness she saw within him. The death of Mitchelli was the rise of the Marauder. Her hands trembled. The smiling eyes of Mitchelli were history, replaced by the devastating hatred of the Marauder. It was clear to her now: the Marauder had killed Handly’s brother-in-law and the kidnapping teams from New Jersey and Chicago. The Marauder had taken the heroin shipment. She could only assume from the many myths she had heard; the Marauder had been feared by the underworld for years, no one knew which family he pledged his allegiance.

  “Leave, don’t stop.” Mitchelli held his head erect, turning away from O’Connor and spitting the pills out of his mouth onto the ground. “Get out of the country no matter what happens to me, it’s your only chance. They’ll come after you.” Blood ran from his lips. Mitchelli’s arms pulled against the ropes and the timber behind his back creaked under the strain. Ann is dead, You are dead, destroy them all, get Handly.

  She would not question the Marauder. O’Connor backed away from him and quickly walked to the Land Rover.

  “Ok, you Italian shit. Tell me where my shipment is and I’ll spare your grease ball children,” Handly screamed at him. The prisoners heard him and began yelling obscenities at Handly. The guards hit them with their rifles, but they failed to silence them. “Dutch, do your job and quiet those prisoners, kill them, I don’t care! Just shut them up.”

  He walked and stood inches from Mitchelli. “Tell me where my heroin is or I’ll kill you and your children, you greasy piece of shit, dago son of a bitch.” Handly pressed both triggers and Mitchelli’s muscles violently contracted. The timber cracked as he doubled over with crippling pain, but he did not scream. He kept looking at Handly clenching his teeth. Handly released the triggers and studied the taser control checking to see if the batteries were charged.

  “Speak! So help me God, Mitchelli you will talk me, you’ll beg me for mercy.” Handly pulled out an eight-inch razor sharp knife and held it to Mitchelli’s face, cutting his forehead across his brow and down to his chin. Mitchelli did not move; he murmured no sound.

  “Jesus Christ, Leo. This guy is one frickin’ son of a bitch. We’ve never come across a bastard like this.” Dutch stood next to Handly and looked into Mitchelli’s eyes, then quickly backed away. “Kill this asshole. He wants you to kill him.”

  “You stupid ass, Dutch. What the hell are you so afraid of? What are you chicken shit? He needs to talk.”

  “He’s not talking, you’re wasting your time. I’ve seen that look before--it’s the stare of a dead man. I saw it in combat nut bags that were ready to die, watch this.” Dutch took the tasers from Handly and held the triggers down. The debilitating device had ben set at the factory for the maximum burst of four seconds. Dutch had overridden the factory setting for a maximum burst of a minute. A normal human would convulse and pass out after twenty seconds. After a full minute had passed, a red light flashed on the taser indicating the batteries were in need of a charge. The only sound was the wood cracking and the hemp fibers in the rope stretching; Mitchelli was silent. “He should be dead, he’s the fricken devil, the devil I tell you.” Dutch pulled his knife and backed away from Mitchelli, afraid to look away.

  ***

  “The asshole in charge of this operation is the Secretary of Homeland Security?” Zachovich yelled into the helicopter’s intercom system in disbelief.

  “Mitchelli was his brainstorm. He is the one, the Secretary’s golden child. His office checks on him daily, and for good reason. Peter’s involvement has turned the entire case around, his success is driving the FBI crazy.” Buckala looked at the night vision screen and saw the outline of a large helicopter in the distance. “Steiner, that’s has got to be the FBI, can you catch up with them?”

  “Yes in several minutes, the CH 53 is actually flying slow. They’re ahead of schedule.” As they neared the Sikorsky helicopter, a Black Hawk came into view and they flew side by side in formation.

  “Steiner, grab that stick. It makes me nervous; I don’t give shit if you paid forty grand for the autopilot. You should have spent that money on my bitch of a sister.” Zachovich was still hanging onto handle above his head.

  Buckala had told Zachovich and Steiner the whole story regarding Mitchelli’s involvement in Task Force E. They asked no questions. Buckala had given them the threat of imprisonment if any information was ever disclosed. Zachovich knew Peter Mitchelli well, his strengths and weaknesses. Zachovich was proud of his Reserve Officer’s participation in a national investigation, but his heart had skipped a beat when he considered the possibility of Mitchelli’s children as orphans.

  Steiner grabbed the stick and maneuvered his helicopter next to the Black Hawk. A voice came over the radio, “Buckala, is that you?” It was Freed, fit to be tied.

  “Roger, Agent in Charge and I’m accompanied by two Sheriff Reserve Officers.”

  “You’re going to jail when we land. I’m arresting you for interfering in a government investigation. Turn around and head back to Buffalo, that’s an order!”

  “This is Reserve Captain Stephan Zachovich. My officer’s life is in grave danger. I am no frickin’ genius but I don’t think that was ever explained to the Sheriff when you requested Peter Mitchelli’s participation in your frigged up investigation. You go frig yourself if you think we’re actually turning around. If his kids end up without a father, I won’t rest until your ass is in jail. You can take your federal investigation and shove it up your ass; he’s my Lieutenant not yours.” There was no response. “You copy that?”

  “Captain, do you know who you’re talking to and the repercussions you face?”

  “I’m an old man but I’m not senile. I met you at the county range the day before you conned Peter to sign up. The best lawyers and several federal Judges are deputized in the Sheriff’s reserve. We may only be reserves, but we’re a tight knit sensitive group of officers. When they find out how you conned one of their own, you had better run. You make all the threats you want, we’re not leaving.” Zachovich’s rosary shook in his hand. His only concern was making sure Peter Mitchelli was safe.

  “Listen closely and follow my directions. The CH53 is call sign Tiny. My ship is Boss, your call sign is County, understood?”

  Buckala responded, “Affirmative, over.”

  “We’re going to orbi
t one click south of the LZ and wait. Tiny will land with twenty tactical agents. Boss will orbit the camp. We have guns in the doors. Do you understand? Over.”

  “Affirmative, County will drop me into the camp, over.”

  “Too risky, negative. Do not drop in the camp, over.”

  “I’m his partner, my only mission is to cover the Marauder, that’s it. We have the coordinates, over.”

  Freed looked at Coarseni who was nodding his head in approval of Buckala’s plan. “Affirmative County, we will cover you, repeat: you’re good to go, over.”

  “Ten four, County out.”

  The helicopters held their position a kilometer from the landing zone, waiting for the explosives to detonate and would clear the LZ.

  ***

  BOOM. A red ball of fire soared three hundred feet in the air over the camp.

  “What the hell was that?” Handly looked at Dutch.

  “I don’t know!” He yelled at the guards, “Get the jacks into their building now! Move it, come on!” The guards surrounded the prisoners and pushed them out of the metal building towards their concrete prison.

  BOOM. Another red fireball shot over the camp opposite of the first fireball. The prisoners looked up into the night sky with hope in their eyes.

  One prisoner exclaimed, “They’re coming for us! It’s the FBI.”

  BOOM. A third round shot over the camp. “Bullshit, it’s the Sheriff’s Office. I knew they’d come for me.” The prisoners began yelling with enthusiasm.

  “You shitheads, it’s the Coast Guard.”

  “Border Patrol rules, we never give up.”

  The guards began hitting the men with their rifles, but the prisoners would not move. The guards clamped taser electrodes to the metal cables, which tethered their prisoners together and began shocking them. The prisoners instantly fell to the ground, screaming with pain.

  Dutch yelled, “You shitheads, that’s what they want! They’re stalling, shoot them if they don’t get in their damn building, frickin’ shoot them.”

  Mitchelli never took his eyes off Handly. “Leo, I’ll see you in hell.”

  Handly came at Mitchelli with his knife raised over his head. Suddenly, there was a series of quick explosions one after the other. The explosions were so close together that the force of them rocked the men in the camp. No one made a sound and even Handly hesitated for a moment as he looked towards the explosions. He then moved in to kill Mitchelli, swinging downward with his knife.

  ***

  “Dom, when the hell are the main charges going off?” Freed yelled over the intercom system.

  “Soon!”

  “Are you sure he knew what the hell he was doing?”

  “The collateral charges went off as planned.”

  “I hope that know-it-all didn’t screw this up.” Just then, the dent cords wrapped around the tree trunks exploded; from the sky it looked like an inferno as the serious of charges exploded, shattering the trunks of a hundred trees. The helicopters shook as the main charge ignited, its flash illuminating the cockpit.

  “Bob, I think he understood. Hang on, there’s one hell of a shockwave coming.”

  The explosion lit up the night sky. From the air, the agents could see the shock wave travel across the tree-tops, bending the maple trees.

  “Holy shit, grab your socks and hang onto your…” The helicopters shook violently and their instrument panel lights blinked on and off. The pilots struggled to maintain control of the machines, their control sticks moving from side to side.

  Coarseni yelled over the intercom, “Bob, do you think he got it right?”

  “Hats off to the civilian operative.” Freed nervously held on to his headset. “Tally-ho, let’s get these ships on the deck. County, take the lead.”

  “Steiner, did you hear him? Nose this frickin thing over; you’re leading the attack—they are covering you.” The Eurocopter’s nose dropped suddenly as the machine quickly gained speed. Zachovich screamed, “God help us! Christ, Steiner, don’t go crazy!”

  ***

  The camp lit up from the primary explosion and the men’s faces glowed red with horror as they watched Handly thrusting his knife downward into Mitchelli just as the shockwave hit.

  Mitchelli yelled and pulled on the rope as hard as he could, lifting his legs to his chest and thrusting them down just as the shock wave hit. The guards were knocked off their feet by the blast of wind, sound, and the concussion that rocked the camp. Handly stumbled and the knife’s course was redirected to Mitchelli’s neck. The wooden timbers succumbed to the Marauder. They broke at their weakest point behind his back. Handly’s knife just missed Mitchelli’s neck, slicing his shoulder blade just as the boards broke.

  Mitchelli’s arms released forward as the timbers broke. The ends of the boards struck Handly in the face one after the other, knocking him to the ground. The ropes loosened and Mitchelli pulled his forearms from the boards, lunging at Handly and punching him repeatedly as he got up from the ground. Both men looked up as the Eurocopter swooped overhead, hovering over the metal building. The prisoners began grabbing the guards, fighting to take control of their weapons. Indiscriminately, some of the guards began recklessly firing into the mass of prisoners.

  The inexperienced guards panicked as the helicopters flew overhead. Some fired into the night sky, others shot towards the massive explosion as they heard the transport helicopter land, others shot at the prisoners. Dutch’s orderly camp was in disarray. He ran from man to man, redirecting their fire towards the tactical officers running through the woods.

  “After I kill you, I’m going after the rest of your family. I should have killed you when I was eleven.” Handly swung his knife again, but Mitchelli blocked it with his forearm.

  The two men moved like boxers in a ring, their history long and their hatred deep; it would end tonight. Handly slashed at Mitchelli cutting open his right shoulder. The blood squirted onto Mitchelli’s neck as Handly lunged for him again. Mitchelli sidestepped the move, grabbing the knife-wielding arm as the two men fell to the ground rolling over each other. Handly was on top of Mitchelli; both hands were on his knife, his body weight pushing it towards Mitchelli’s face.

  “This is for Tommy; my wife went crazy seeing him hanging, you dirty bastard.” Handly laughed insanely as the knife inched towards Mitchelli’s face. “You’re weak. You were always weak, but frickin’ lucky. You’re one frickin’ lucky grease ball. I hate goddamn Italians. I hate you! I can feel you fading, life dripping from your soul. Why don’t you cry, whine like a baby for Ann? ‘ANN! ANN! I love you.’ You killed her. Mitchelli you fool, you could have been rich.” Handly pushed down with his entire might.

  Ann is dead. Destroy them all. Save your children… The knife moved towards Mitchelli’s face. It was inches from killing him and his arms began to shake. He was dying. A thousand images ran through his brain like lightning. Then the last two months filled his mind, and the images slowed. The illusions of Ann were the most vivid. His eyes widened as he saw the illusion of Ann murdered at the hands of Handly. Ann, you killed her!

  His eyes opened wide as he yelled in fury, “ANN…MELANIE! You killed Melanie!” He realized his Mind Kill had confused Melanie for his wife. Handly was close enough to look into the eyes of the man he had not seen since he played football with thirty years ago. The killer was back, the possessed psychopath, the Marauder.

  Mitchelli moved to his right as Handly thrust the knife into the ground. Mitchelli got to his feet as Handly lunged towards him with his knife. Mitchelli threw him against the porch railing. He twisted and bent Handly’s arm, redirecting the knife towards Handly’s throat. Handly laughed hysterically and spit on Mitchelli, cursing him and kicking him with his legs.

  “You piece of shit!” Handly yelled maniacally sticking his tongue out of his mouth like a snake. “You can’t kill me, I’m invincible! I’m going to kill your kids! I’ll come back from hell to murder those little grease balls. Piss on the Marauder, you�
�re nothing but a crazy psychopath, Mitchelli! That’s all you are!” Suddenly, Handly’s face changed as he realized he had let his guard down. “NO!” he yelled as Mitchelli plunged the knife into Handly’s throat, severing his carotid artery blood spewed over both men. His body went limp.

  Mitchelli breathed heavily as he spoke, “Not hardly.”

  He looked around and saw his shoulder holster hanging precisely where he had left it on the railing. Swinging it around his shoulders into position, he quickly drew his pistol. As Mitchelli turned directing his muzzle at the guards shooting the prisoners, he caught the attention of Dutch as he fled towards the woods from the attacking agents. Dutch fired repeatedly at Mitchelli, striking him several times. The wounds caused him to fall to the ground.

  Dutch stood over Mitchelli lowering his pistol to his head. Just then, gunshots rang out and Dutch’s body jerked with each shot. The last shot struck his forehead; the exit wound blew out the back of his skull as he fell to the ground.