Killing Sanford (Gary Cannon Book 1)

by Mike Kershner

  Gary lowered his eyes, “LJ...”

  LJ lunged at him, but even with the advantage of action over reaction Gary was still too fast for him. Gary’s left hand was behind LJ’s neck pulling his forehead to his left shoulder. His right hand was white knuckled around the handle of the Ka-Bar which was buried to the hilt in LJ’s chest. Gary brought his head down close to LJ’s ear, “I hate you for this. I’ve lost everything in my life, my parents, my home and now my brother.” he whispered.

  No sound escaped LJ’s lips, his breath was shallow and fading quickly, his right hand which had initially come up to clutch Gary’s left forearm had relaxed its grip and had fallen to the bed. Gary felt the increased weight of the body as life left it and he lowered him back to the pillow, leaving the Ka-Bar in the chest. Gary straightened himself next to the bed looking down at the dead man, a feeling of calm came over him. Gary took two breaths and turned and walked out of the room leaving LJ for housekeeping.

  ***

  March 22, 1967

  For the first time Gary had been brought to the Dallas office. Neil had called him there, when he checked in the day following LJ’s death. Ushered in through a side door and led to an elevator then down a corridor to Neil’s office he waited in the empty office for Neil who he had been told was tied up in a meeting.

  The door opened behind him and Neil came in, Gary stood and they shook hands. Neil took a seat behind his desk and Gary sat again in one of the two chairs across from him.

  “I hate this fucking office.” Neil said.

  Gary looked around again, “It’s not so bad, you've got a nice view.” he said motioning to the window overlooking a Dallas skyline.

  “Nah, it’s not the damned view or even the room, it’s sometimes I hate being trapped in here.”

  “I know you get out of here, just a few months back you came and dove with us off Catalina. Don't try making this look worse than it is.”

  “Okay, okay. Maybe it’s not so bad. It could just be that wormy bastard Vickery, I swear. This makes what...fourth president of this company I have worked for. They all get a little bitchier.”

  Gary laughed, he and “Old Sunshine” as he had begun mentally thinking of Neil, had become closer as his training had progressed. Gary found that Neil often vented his frustrations about the inner workings of their upper levels. “Lighten up a little, you're going to have a hemorrhage. What happened someone take the Jonny Walker stash you have in here?”

  “As a matter of fact I am running low, next time you come this way I’ll expect a bottle as payment for the ass eating I just took for you.”

  “LJ?”

  “Was that a question? Yes, LJ.” Neil snapped, visibly irritated.

  “It needed to happen. He was headed to Dade in DC, he was going to blow the lid.”

  “Yes, I heard. That assignment was my call, maybe it was too much pressure for two untested assets, and I took an ass eating for that too. LJ needed to be dealt with. However, there are some here that think they should be consulted every time you go to take a shit so they can make sure you didn't wipe sideways.”

  “He was mine to take out, we were close. I wasn't interested in checking in.”

  “Whether they know it or not you made the right decision, and I’ve defended you to them, I swear they have all forgotten what it was like to work in the field.”

  Gary nodded, unsure how to respond.

  “How are you holding up after Dade’s son?”

  “No problems. No different than the day before.”

  “And LJ?”

  Gary paused, “I’m good there too. It was necessary.”

  “Okay. You might be fine today, but I’m guessing that someday you might not be, it happens to everyone at some time or another, seems like it happened to LJ right off the bat. Don't be surprised if it comes back at you.”

  “Happened to you?”

  “Sure as hell, to your father too. We’ve all done things that pull at us, it's difficult not to. I look at it like this. You hope that by killing someone you save lives, save the lives of your friends or your countrymen. You hope that the time you spend lonely tired and cold keep countless others from being led to the slaughter. Even if you can't romanticize it enough to make yourself believe all of that, you hope that the money you get paid makes up for your discomfort. That money lets you insulate yourself from the world you see, a world you will someday come to despise. Or it lets you provide for a family, turn this work into something positive make it a foundation for you to base anything else you want to on. Or the third option, you can buy more fucking toys, women, and booze than you can shake a stick at. That’s the route I took kid, right or wrong I took it and I can’t take it back.” Neil smiled and gave him a wink.

  Gary thought about that for a moment, considered it, and then responded, “Are you ever disappointed in the choices you’ve made?”

  “Not one time.”

  Again, Gary considered the words, “Thanks for everything Neil. I’ve gotta ask, what’s the next stop on the training bus?”

  “There isn't another stop Gary.”

  “Is this because of LJ? Did I really need permission to fix this mess? What the hell am I supposed to do now?” Gary replied with a terse tone.

  “Yes. In a way this is because of LJ, but I don't think you have gotten what I was saying. Your training is done, or this part of it is done, there may be more down the road.”

  “Oh.” Gary replied surprised, “Now what?”

  “There will be something coming up soon, take some time for yourself, a few days maybe.” Neil smiled as he observed Gary’s shock and his posture that had once been so defensive now deflated and uncertain of what to do with the pressure that had just been relieved from it.

  “What do I do?” He asked Neil.

  “First, take this.” He handed Gary an envelope visibly thick with cash.

  “How much is this?”

  “The fee for Dade was twenty-eight thousand, it was supposed to be split two ways, but...Then there’s an extra twenty in there for the second one.”

  “Forty-eight grand?”

  “There’s money to be had right now, we just have to go for it, and you’ve done well.” Neil clapped Gary on the shoulder.

  Gary stood, “But Neil, what am I supposed to do? I mean what do I do now?”

  “Just go cut loose, do whatever you want to, hell buy a fucking car. Just give something a shot, we’ll find you when its time.”

  “Thanks Neil.” Gary turned to go.

  “Gary.”

  He looked back, “Yes?”

  “There's one more thing.”

  Neil produced a small box, it was wrapped in plain brown paper, and he handed it to Gary, “Wait to open it until you’re outside please.”

  Gary nodded, looked at the box, then looked at Neil, “Should I worry about this blowing up?”

  Neil smiled, “You paranoid little shit. No, it’s for you for your milestone.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Gary, go have some fun for a while, you’ve earned it. And for the record, if I was going to kill you I wouldn't do it in my own damned office or even on the street in front of my office.”

  They both chuckled, and Gary left. He caught an elevator about to head to the ground and went right to the street when he hit the lobby.

  Gary peeled off the brown paper sitting in the shade of the great building, beneath the wrapping was a red leather box, a gold seal in the lid. Opening the box there was a note,

  Gary,

  I couldn't be more proud, I see so much of your father in you. You are destined for great things. Never let time slip away from you.

  -Neil

  Beneath the card a steel banded Omega Speedmaster sat in its ivory cradle.

  ***

  July 6, 1976 02:00

  Gary opened his eyes, checked his Omega it was two A.M., he had slept a bit longer than he had wanted to but decided he had needed it and let it go. He got up knees popping, and
he stretched his back, silently cursing the bean bags.

  He was about to drive across Texas and halfway across Mexico and he was not looking forward to that, but he was looking forward to killing Ray Flockstein.

  ***

  July 4, 1976 18:12

  Julia got into the rear of the Ford at the curb, Cobb got in the front, Jacobs into the back on the driver’s side. They sped away from the front of her house.

  Jacobs was the first to talk, “We interrupt something showing up like that?” the grin on his face making him look like a cheeky little mouse.

  “Excuse me corporal?”

  “You had that look, like you’d been up to something just before we knocked on the door.”

  “I don't see how that's any of your business.”

  “I’m more inclined to think it is my business, maybe if you were interrupted you weren't finished, maybe you still need some attention.”

  “Corporal, I believe if you continue you'll be needing some attention from a dentist.”

  “She’s feisty, eh Cobb?”

  “Yea, she sounds like she wants to kick your ass though. Remember what we were told.” and Cobb snickered.

  Julia could see the looks between the two, eyes darting, and then from view in the rear view she could see the full uncertainty of a set of eyes watching the three interact. She launched herself forward after the driver, her arm wrapping around his throat. Jacobs jumped at her, a hypodermic needle in his hand, Julia’s foot caught him in the chest and he slammed back against the door. Despite the swerving car Cobb was on her now, his left hand firmly around the bun on the back of her head. He was pulling her off of the driver and over the front bench seat. Jacobs had recovered by now, and was able to dodge her wildly flailing feet and sink the syringe of etorphine into her upper thigh, almost immediately her body began to slack. She slipped down piling into the rear floorboard, and her breathing lightened, in a few more moments it stopped.

  ***

  July 6, 1976 02:35

  Gary opened his vault, stepped inside and flicked the light switch. The smell of gun oil was overpowering, he looked around and the shelves and racks of weapons. His eyes settled on a Colt 629 commando and he plucked it from its perch.

  He grabbed a suppressor from a shelf above the rifle. He threaded the suppressor to the barrel of the 629 and slung it over his shoulder.

  Again his eyes searched the rows of rifles, sub-machine guns and pistols, centered in the rack on the back wall was a worn suppressed Colt 609, and he smiled with a fond remembrance.

  Gary pulled the 609 from the rack held it is his hands, pulled the charging handle back, shouldered the weapon and looked down the sights, then back to his hands and admired it again.

  This rifle had spent hours in his hands and hanging from his torso. This rifle had never failed him, in his life Gary counted very few items that he could say that about. He reflected, the rifle in his hands, the Commander in his belt, his Omega, and Neil.

  Such a short list of objects and only one person. He thought that some might call that a tragedy, but he found security in his small circle of trust, he smiled and slung the rifle over his other shoulder.

  He grabbed thirty magazines for the CAR-15’s and loaded them into a backpack. He packed two, two pound envelopes of sheet demolition charges, and six fifteen second delay percussion detonators into a canvas satchel and loaded it all into the backpack as well.

  Gary looked back at the vault door feeling he might need something more, but dismissed the thought and turned out the lights, he closed and latched the vault.

  From a locker he grabbed a second set of clothes, a compass, mag pouches, boots, gloves, a Ka-Bar, two canteens, and a pair of binoculars. From a small file cabinet he filed through several sheaves of paper and pulled a set of maps out and put them all in the bag.

  He waited for a pot of coffee to brew, and poured its contents into a thermos. Gary loaded the thermos into the duffle as well, then headed back to the surface.

  Twenty minutes later he was back on the road, headed southwest, and for the next nineteen hours he drove until he hit Guaymas, Mexico, on the Gulf of California.

  July 4, 1976 19:45

  Ray Flockstein sat with his feet on the desk in front of him. He had his eyes closed, and he was waiting for a phone call, it had never occurred to him but he had been waiting for this phone call since 1947. A smile grew on his face as he waited, once his plan had begun it would be unstoppable, pieces would fall into place that would be immovable.

  Ray had been raised in a wealthy German family, they had left Germany in 1934 when Ray was still a boy. His father, Herman was a violent man with a snap temper, and his mother was a plain woman as stubborn and stoic as any German stereotype, she refused to learn English. They had brought a considerable fortune with them and their wealth had allowed them to remain isolated. Ray’s father, as a wealthy citizen had certain connections, and with connections come information and insight. It had pained Herman to take his family and leave Germany but he could see the power aspirations that Hitler had, and he had witnessed what he viewed as a megalomaniac’s rise to power. Herman saw Hitler’s rise and his path as a way to lose his fortune and possibly his life, and he was far too selfish to part with either.

  So the Flockstein’s had settled in the Catskills area in New York as it seemed like a very American thing to do. Herman had correctly theorized that Hitler would aspire to take over Europe, and he had also correctly theorized that the Americans would enter the war when it happened. He did not expect their entry to be by way of Japan’s bombing of Pearl Harbor, but they had entered none the less. Despite his love for Germany, and his secret hope that Hitler would be successful he was a realist and knew the industrial might of the Americans would overwhelm and outlast anything the Germans could produce.

  A six year old Ray remembered very little of his home country by the time the war was in full swing. And by the time Ray turned eighteen the war was in its final chapters, he began looking at colleges and ended up attending Yale to study law and business.

  Ray had developed some unique relationships throughout his High School years, his time in private school and his good looks and mature face in his mid-teens he had given rise to affairs with two women during his junior and senior years. During his junior year it was a young teacher from the school named Peta, she had insisted Ray tie her up during their sexual encounters. Her tastes were particularly violent to which Ray took to very naturally.

  They began experimenting with asphyxiation during their meetings as a way to heighten their pleasure, and it all went well until one night Ray held on to the belt for too long and his first mistress never woke up. Luckily for Ray she was known to be troubled and being a smart boy he was able to stage her death to look like a suicide.

  The second mistress, Rachel, was a little older, and she ran with a bigger darker crowd. As it turned out Ray fit well in her crowd. After Peta died by his own hand during sex he had found he longed to recreate that experience again. Rachel and the people she knew were able to keep Ray’s twisted tastes fed, for a while. When Ray got too dark for the Catskill’s most twisted residents they were able to show him to a man named Cirillo who booked him a trip to China and that was were Ray had met Wolfram Brandt.

  Ray continued to lean back and he thought of Brandt and the short time he knew him, even years later when his mother and father had died, he had not felt the loss, not felt the pain that he had when he found the man he thought was to be his lifelong mentor hanging dead. All the years that had passed and he was almost able to exact his revenge.

  Knowing Brandt was an ex-Nazi was the only clue Ray had to finding who had killed him. He had spent some time following the discovery at a loss, but he was recruited by the CIA while still in college, a recruitment that he first considered turning down. Ray realized that in the intelligence game he would likely be able to dig to the bottom of who had killed Brandt.

  Ray had taken to intelligence gathering like a dog t
o a bone, he worked long hours and his work was noticed. He had raised through the ranks quickly, even though his rewards had been given for work not always in the best interest of his adopted country. It had taken him years to pin down who exactly had wanted Brandt dead. Even after that almost two decades to get a name and then track down the men responsible.

  When Ray had unearthed the names he set to finding the men, his first name only turned up a tombstone. That had dealt him a major blow, not having the satisfaction of killing James Cannon was severely disappointing. He had found both names, and was still going to be able to go after James’s second, Degrassi.

  Ray had begun planning to kidnap Degrassi when he discovered Degrassi was watching over James’s orphaned son. Discovering that James had a son changed everything. He would exact his revenge on the son, it would be a close second to the torture he had in mind for James. Degrassi would watch and know that he had failed to keep his friend’s son safe. He would see the drawn out death of Gary Cannon before his slow painful demise.

  Throughout his planning for this he began to get strange chatter through the communities, he had heard that Degrassi was not only watching over Gary but Gary was being baptized into the Sanford elite. Again Ray’s plan changed and he saw that he had been too short sided that his hopes for killing Cannon and Degrassi had been too narrow, his true revenge would be not only killing them both but first turning the young Cannon into someone that would bring Sanford to its knees. Now finally, all the pieces, all the maneuvering, all of the time he had spent his entire life focused on were about to come together.

  The phone on the desk rang and Ray answered it, “Yes.”

  A pause, ”It has?”

  Another pause, “The general?”