Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1)

by L. Douglas Hogan

  “The sentence for that was death,” Tori said.

  “Come outside. There’s no blue hats out here at the moment.”

  Tori went outside, but kept Bubba at her side.

  “His wife and daughter—do you know what happened to them?”

  “They were taken just before his arrival. They must’ve known he was coming, and they evacuated them—or took them hostage, I’m not quite sure—but they knocked on the door, and she let them in.”

  “You saw all of this?”

  “From my window, yes,” the man said, pointing back at a window on the next house that faced Stephen’s.

  “Where did they take them?”

  “Nobody knows. They threw them into one of those black government paddy wagons then whisked them away.”

  “Which direction?”

  “I didn’t see. But one of the guys that worked that unit is still in the area.”

  “Where?”

  “They’ll be out and about later this evening. If you hide out here until they show, maybe I can point him out. But if you ask me, I think you’re asking for trouble—possibly suicide.”

  “Mister, the only thing I’m asking you for is information, not advice.”

  “Understood. Name’s Jared, by the way.”

  “Hi, Jared.”

  Tori left the house and stepped out onto the porch. The man walked around to the front of the house and saw that she was carrying the yellow Minion doll in hand.

  “That was her favorite,” he said.

  Tori just looked at him, then back down on the porch. There were several memorials that people had left. Most of them had Stephen’s name on them, and others had all three of their names.

  “He was kinda popular after the shooting.”

  “Yeah, I’m sick of good people being made into martyrs for a cause that doesn’t seem to have a conclusion,” Tori said with a frustrated voice. She then pointed Bubba at Jared.

  He raised his hands and said, “I’m not armed.”

  “That’s a good thing. You’re going to hide me out at your place and point this dill weed out to me as soon as he shows, got it?”

  “Got it,” the man said. “Right this way.”

  He turned and led her into his home. There was nothing of value. All precious metals and anything of price had been traded for water and food long ago. Tori took a spot next to the window of the front door and waited, with her Nosler loaded and ready to shoot.

  That evening, a few minutes after the sun had set, sure enough, there came the rumbling sounds of government paddy wagons and HMMWVs. Tori shrank down into her corner. Jared stepped into the area beside her and she pulled him down. Using Bubba to hold a curtain open ever so slightly, she asked him, “Can you point him out?”

  “That’s him right there, the one getting out of the passenger seat of the deuce and a half,” Jared whispered.

  Deuce and a half was what they called the two-and-a-half-ton troop-carrying trucks.

  Tori didn’t take her shot, choosing instead to sit still and watch their every move.

  “You say he comes here every night?”

  “Religiously.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Mostly bully people around. They fill the wagons with anybody gutsy enough to show themselves in public. I’m not sure why they always park in this same spot. It doesn’t seem tactically sound to me.”

  “It’s not,” she said. “But by the time they figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

  Tori watched them closely. They appeared to be American traitors that had violated their oaths to the constitution, has-been law enforcement personnel looking to make a living off of the people’s backs.

  She watched as they broke into pairs and separated to different waypoints to cover greater distances in shorter time frames.

  “What branch of the service did you serve in, Jared?”

  “Navy, why?”

  “How are you with stealth attacks?”

  “Oh no, I’m not getting into this.”

  “Do you want these guys to thug you for the rest of your existence?”

  “I don’t have any weapons. There’s no weapons within miles of here. These goons keep the placed locked up like Alcatraz.”

  Tori lifted her right pant leg to reveal a sheathed knife that she had concealed in her sock. She pulled it out and handed it to Jared.

  “Look, Jared. These guys are weak. That’s why they’re preying on unarmed people. They’re not going to suspect an attack. Look at the way they have their rifles slung over their backs with no care in the world. They believe they’re safe. That will be our advantage.”

  “Okay, I hope you have a sneaky plan, because two against twenty unsuspecting thugs still doesn’t seem legit.”

  “It’ll be legit. Here’s what we do …”

  Tori went on with a hasty yet elaborate plan to dismantle the thugs, pair by pair, over the course of three days. The idea was to watch them this evening and the routes they took. Then, the next day, to wait for them on their path. Once they showed, a simultaneous takedown from behind would be launched; then they’d move to the next point and wait. When she had finished explaining the plan of attack, she said, “Tonight and tomorrow we watch and rest, but on the third day we make our move.”

  The next day came rapidly for Tori and Jared. They had spent the last two days carefully and methodically recording the team’s movements and had them broken down into times and pit stops. It wasn’t necessarily perfect, because the data was only recorded for two days between the two of them. But if the plan was to be successful, then they would have saved many and restored a sense of liberty back into the area.

  A little after sunset, the team came moving into position. The convoy parked in the same location and was probably doing so because nobody had bothered their equipment before. No sooner than they were seen pulling in, Tori and Jared moved into their first position.

  They were nestled tightly into a doorway in an alley a block from Stephen’s home. The doorway was tucked back into a corner that the soldiers were about to turn into. Tori and Jared stood tall and sucked in as tightly as they could with their backs to the door. The soldiers turned the corner and continued to walk on by without taking notice they were being closely followed. They were walking in tandem with the soldiers when Tori nodded to Jared. He then stuck the boot knife into the soldier on the right’s neck. He pulled it out and that soldier groped his neck and sat on the ground. When the other soldier saw it, it was too late for him to respond. Tori had jumped onto his back and put him in a sleeper hold. The man was easily carrying her body weight around and running backwards, attempting to slam her into the brick walls of the building. Jared ran up to him and stabbed him multiple times in the abdomen, above where Tori had her legs wrapped around the man.

  He dropped to one knee and Tori let him go. Jared finished him off by cutting his throat.

  “Was that your first kill?” she asked Jared.

  “Yeah, and he’ll be my second,” he said, pointing to the man who was quickly losing consciousness.

  “Great work. Search the men and take their weapons. On to the next location,” Tori said.

  At the second location, Tori had a knife she had recovered from the first location. They each had an additional sidearm, and the rifles could be looted later.

  Tori and Jared waited on the inside of a garage. The door was already opened and the windows were busted out. These soldiers were expected to pass by a little farther out than the first, so greater caution was necessary to remain silent. The guards came by, and they stepped out behind them and shanked each soldier in the base of the skull with their newly acquired Ka-Bars. The knives penetrated deep and wide. They dropped instantly.

  This routine went on until they came to the last pair. This pair included the man that Tori wanted to question.

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  He nodded his head.

  “Remember, the guy you pointed out is mine.
I want him alive.”

  “That’s fine.”

  This plan detailed the last pair returning to the convoy to find that they were alone; only Tori and Jared would be waiting for them. When the men arrived to see their teammates were not back as were routinely expected, they began to wonder to themselves what had happened. The two men stepped to the front of the convoy and waited. Each lit up a cigarette, but one was shot dead, point blank, to the head. The man that was left alive was startled, dropping his cigarette and grabbing his head as if he too were about to be killed.

  He said nothing out of fear.

  “Look, Jared, I told you they were weak.”

  “You were right, Tori. They were, anyway.”

  “That’s right, stupid,” Tori said to the last man. “We killed all your homies and only you remain.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Tori, this is Jared, and this is my unlikely friend … um,” Tori was holding up the Minion doll and toying with the man’s mind. “I can’t remember its name. Maybe you know. You’ve seen it before; tell me what happened to its owner.”

  “It’s a doll. How am I sup—”

  The man’s plight was interrupted by Tori. She shot a hole through his kneecap and planted him on the ground.

  “Try again, stupid.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “This doll belonged to a daughter of a friend of mine. You were involved in her disappearance, so tell me where she and her mother were taken.”

  “I can’t remem—”

  Another shot rang out from Tori’s 1911.

  The man’s other kneecap was blown off, and he was now lying on his back, pleading for his life.

  “Look, mister,” Tori said, “I don’t care if you live or if you die, but you’re going to tell me what I want to hear or this will be a long day for you. You still have two ankles, ten toes, two wrists, ten fingers, and I have all night.”

  “What was your friend’s name?” the man asked in tears.

  “Gill.”

  When the man heard the name Gill, he was filled with terror. Tori saw the pale look upon the man’s face.

  “That look doesn’t spell out good news for you, mister,” Tori said. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Uh …”

  Another loud crack came from Tori’s pistol.

  The man was now cursing at the top of his lungs. One of his ankles had just been blown off. Jared couldn’t bear to watch the torture, so he walked away to the side of the truck.

  “Nuh-uh, no, you don’t,” Tori said to Jared. “You’re going to stay here with me and see this through.”

  “I can’t torture people, Tori.”

  “Well, that’s good for you because I’m doing all the hard work. Now sit down and relax. I’m working here.”

  Jared sat down against the truck tire.

  “Okay, where was I?”

  “Look, lady, the child and the mother were taken away.”

  “Where were they taken?”

  “To the fifth regional human handling center. It was a long time ago, miss.”

  Tori had been there. She had survived the fight at the human handling center and had been separated from Nathan, Denny, and Jess. She wasn’t sure about their welfare, but she knew nobody that was sent to the human handling center that early on had survived. They were most likely disposed of.

  Tori’s journey had come to an end. She had the answer she was seeking, for now. There was a new set of questions plaguing her mind: Where is Nathan, and what does Denny know?

  For now, she would have to wait for the answers. They would come soon, because her friend Denny lived a few miles up the road, in Gorham. It was a place she would like to hang her hat, so to speak, but for now, there was one more man to kill.

  “Jared, thanks for your help. Take these weapons and start rebuilding this place. I have friends that live a few miles down the road from here. We’d like to see you in the future.”

  Tori was looking at the man she had shot three times and wondering how to put him out of his misery.

  “I guess I should be thanking you, Tori.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got courage, Jared. This place will need some of that if it’s going to rise above the ashes.”

  “What about this guy?” Jared asked.

  Tori lifted Bubba one last time and shot him in the face.

  “What guy?” she said rhetorically.

  “How are we supposed to rebuild if we don’t put these kind of men on trial?” Jared asked.

  “I swore my oath to the Constitution, Jared. This guy was a domestic enemy. I swore to defend against these types. I don’t see a reason for a trial. He was guilty, plain and simple.”

  Tori left that place on foot and walked until she returned to her Harley. She wasn’t sure what waited for her in the near future, but she knew she would be with a friend.

  “Denny, my friend, I hope you run as tight a ship as Nathan did,” she said aloud as she rode off toward Gorham.

  THE RISE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Copyright © 2015 L. Douglas Hogan

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  All rights reserved.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to the American that pushes back against tyranny; the oath takers that do their job resisting unconstitutional laws; the American service member and their predecessors, the veterans, both living and the fallen.

  This book is written as a wake-up call to every American, that there are unconstitutional laws waiting for the right moment to be utilized. There are vain and aspiring men in offices, waiting for the right moment to make their ambitions known and to build them upon the backs of the unfaithful oath taker.

  Stay vigilant, oath taker, and never assume large government has your back…

  ACKNOWLEDGMENT

  Two names come to mind when I think of inspiration, G. Michael Hopf, best-selling author of the post-apocalyptic New World series, and John W. Vance, author of The Death and Defiant books, for encouraging me to write fiction.

  FOREWORD

  Writing a book tends to be on most people’s ‘bucket list’ of accomplishments. If you’re like me, you’ve heard it from friends and even strangers at dinner parties, over drinks, casual conversation at a café, wherever, but for some reason many people have writing a book as a must in their life. I can appreciate this desire. I too had it once and decided I didn’t want to be like so many who wish for something, I set about to doing it. Since I departed on that journey over three years ago, I am blessed to have written four novels all under the Plume (Penguin/Random House) banner. So often I hear, ‘You’re lucky.” Let me tell you, luck only takes one so far. With a book there is more than that, there is content and timing, but I don’t want to go down the long road of discussing those parts. Let us get back to the ‘luck’ part. When I’ve heard, I’m lucky, I just want to throat punch someone because they remove the most critical part of the equation, the time and effort put forth to complete the task itself. So often I hear from the would be author that I’m lucky to have found time or that I’m lucky because I had a solid idea or I’m lucky because I had the (fill in the blank). It’s all a bunch of crap. Any writer who has ever took the discipline effort and finished a novel receives my deepest respect, for they have made the effort and done what they said they would because not completing a book after you said you would is just an excuse. We all have the time, we all have the ideas, you just need to sit down and do it.

  My little diatribe has a point. Months ago, my old friend, L. Douglas Hogan and I had a conversation over the phone. He had the same dream in life, to write a bo
ok. He asked me how I did it and I gave him the exact advice Hemingway had given to would be writers. It is so simple, it can be done by many people if they just get out of their own way. His advice, “Just write.” That’s it, that’s the simple thing. Don’t get in your head, don’t edit as you write, just write your story. Once you have it all done, then go back and edit, then go back and rewrite. Many people never finish because they will spend countless time editing as they go, this leaves them frustrated and unable to complete the work. I gave this advice to Doug and he ran with it. He sat down and began to write. Within weeks he put forth a non-fiction book. He then set out to complete a work of fiction and did it quickly. How? He will tell you what I told him. Just write. Just sit down and start hammering the keyboard.

  I have incredible respect for Doug. He took simple advice and applied it. Now he has two books, including this incredible work of fiction that I know you’ll enjoy. I could not be more proud of his ability, discipline and creativity. Doug, my friend, welcome to the world of writing. You can now wear the title of “author” for you have taken the time and effort. Keep going and don’t forget to pay it forward with other writers.

  Stay frosty –

  G.Michael Hopf

  Best-selling author of THE NEW WORLD series

  “I have sworn upon the altar of God, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.”

  -Thomas Jefferson

  PROLOGUE

  By the year 2025, the United States had run its economy into bankruptcy. For years, fiscally conservative Republicans and Democrats complained about the unsustainable deficits. The liberal news media had stopped covering issues regarding the US economy, choosing instead to cover the brutalities of war and police use of force. Censorship against US citizens was the norm and any kind of media coverage on the government was the exception. The Federal Communications Commission controlled the Internet, congressional legislation forced local business to pay ever-increasing minimum wages, and the government was providing healthcare and other amenities at the expense of private and corporate infrastructure. Taxation was no longer meeting the requirements necessary to sustain the status quo.