Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection

by Gordon Kessler

  “Okay, now what’s this all about?” the first cop, Officer Draper, asked as he stepped out of the passenger’s side of the patrol car.

  Chin walked over as the second policeman, Officer Clark, got out.

  “The animal-control director, Tony Parker, will be here in a minute. He’ll be able to explain better,” Chin began. “But essentially, there’s a couple of hundred dogs in the county ticking like time bombs. They’re about to go off and start attacking like all these others have over the last couple of days. The thing is, they’re going to all go nuts tonight, and the only way to identify them is through Doctor White Cloud’s records inside.”

  “Holy shit!” Clark exclaimed. “Are you bullshitting?”

  “No, I’m not. . . . ” Chin stopped when he heard something rustle in the bushes along the side of the building.

  Draper had heard it also and turned in that direction. “Who’s there?”

  No answer, still more rustling.

  “I said, who’s there?” he insisted, putting his hand on the grip of his .45-caliber Beretta.

  Still no answer, but a figure emerged fifty feet away. A small man, dressed in black with a black eye patch, walked toward the three. He walked swiftly, calmly, and not in a threatening manner.

  “It’s Truong. He’s behind this. Stop him!” Chin demanded.

  Truong continued, walking purposefully.

  “Stop him for what?” Draper asked Chin. He turned to the little man in black. “Is your name Truong?”

  Truong didn’t answer but continued his swift advance, now fifteen feet away.

  Chin could see he wasn’t going to stop. It was like he was going to walk right over them.

  “Stop him. Stop the son-of-a-bitch. He’s the one behind all these attacks.”

  Both officers began to draw their guns.

  Truong attacked before they were able to clear their holsters. His first punch struck quickly. His right hand blurred, smashing Clark’s throat. Clark collapsed in a pile, his face contorting.

  In the same second, Truong’s right foot spun around in a roundhouse kick and struck Draper in the jaw, causing a loud crack. He caught Draper by the head as the officer leaned back against the patrol car. With one hand on the back of Draper’s head and one on his chin, he twisted. Draper’s neck snapped as his head was jerked, grotesquely, 180 degrees.

  Clark lay on the ground sucking air in sibilant gasps. He was suffocating, airway closed.

  Tommy Chin realized he was no match for this lunatic. The best way he could help Clark and himself was to get out of there and radio for help.

  He sprinted toward his van, thirty feet away in the gravel parking lot. Halfway, he tripped and slid on the loose gravel. Truong would be right behind him. Chin didn’t look back. He stumbled to his feet and ran again. Slamming against the side of the van, he grabbed the door handle.

  Now, to jump inside and lock the door, then drive to safety and call for help. Armed or not, Truong was very deadly, and he now had access to the police officers’ guns.

  Chin yanked the door open, slipped inside, and hammered down the lock. He’d made it. He’d had his doubts, but he had actually made it. He reached for the keys in the ignition and took his first look back toward the patrol car. Both officers still lay on the ground. Truong wasn’t in sight.

  Chin turned the engine over and felt tremendous relief when it started immediately. He continued searching out the window into the night for Truong.

  Out of the blackness, an arm appeared. Truong’s fist busted through the driver’s side window, shattering glass like an explosion. Tommy Chin saw stars, then darkness.

  CHAPTER 49

  The gravel growled and popped in the wheel wells of Tony Parker’s Jimmy truck as he barreled down the driveway to Doc White Cloud’s clinic. It was a quarter till ten. There wasn’t much time to do what had to be done. Truong’s interview would be aired sometime between ten and half past.

  He wondered if Truong would be there, if there would be a confrontation. Truong may have done what he wanted to do and left by now. Parker hoped he hadn’t. He wanted Truong. He wanted to feel his scrawny little neck in his hands as he wrung the life out. He’d never wanted to do such a thing to any living being before, but this time was different. He wanted Truong for what he had done to his family, to Sarah, to Doc, and to Jack.

  Turning into the parking lot, the Jimmy’s lights found two vehicles, parked askew, near the dark building. One was a police car, and the other was Tommy Chin’s van. The clinic van was there, too.

  Parker killed the engine and coasted to a stop several yards back and observed over the steering wheel.

  Odd. No one in sight. No lights. It was as if they had gotten out of their vehicles and left.

  With a flashlight in hand, he opened his door and stepped out. He scanned the area then walked carefully toward the fifty-foot gap between the cop car and Chin’s van. His light found something on the ground by the patrol car. A body. Parker quickened his pace. Another body. He walked faster, then stopped, standing over the two cops. Both were obviously dead, eyes open, pain and fear of their fate covering their faces.

  “Chin!” Parker looked over to Chin’s vehicle, expecting to see his body on the ground like the officers’. It wasn’t. Maybe he was okay.

  Parker trotted toward the van. The window was broken on the driver’s side, and the engine was running. He hit the door with both hands and looked in. Chin lay, slumped over the console, blood covering the side of his face, glass on his lap.

  “Chin! Wake up, Chin!”

  Truong couldn’t have done this. Not little, disfigured, meek and mild Truong.

  Parker jerked the door open and turned off the engine.

  A sudden, sharp pain stabbed the base of his skull. Something poked, cold, hard and sharp.

  “Sergeant Parker. What a pleasant surprise,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Now, don’t move, so I don’t have to stick this into your brain.”

  Parker was puzzled. The voice wasn’t like Truong’s. There was nearly no accent.

  He felt one of his captor’s hands search his body. It stopped at Simpson’s gun, tucked under his belt. The revolver replaced the sharp object pressed to the back of his head.

  “You weren’t going to shoot me again, now were you?”

  Sergeant Parker? Shoot me again? It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t been called sergeant since the Marines, over twenty years ago, and the only person he’d ever shot was a North Vietnamese lieutenant.

  He flashed back to the jungles of Vietnam. He was on patrol three clicks out from the firebase. A squad of soldiers accompanied him and his three dogs as they looked for booby traps or any signs of the VC. He was separated from the patrol when the dogs picked up a scent and went crazy. They took him by surprise and jerked their leashes out of his hand. He chased after them but soon lost sight in the thick foliage, even though they ran only a few yards away. He chased, following their barks with his military issue .45 drawn.

  Finally, he broke through a clearing and heard a shot. An NVA lieutenant stood fifty feet away. He’d shot the lead dog and was bearing down on the second. Parker fired, striking the enemy soldier and knocking off his hat. His adversary went down.

  He would always remember the NVA lieutenant’s terror-stricken face as he looked into the business end of Parker’s aimed .45 auto, knowing he only had a split second to live. The face haunted Parker for years after the incident.

  The enemy soldier was able to return a single shot as he fell. The bullet broke a limb in front of Parker, ricocheting and hitting him between the left nipple and shoulder, passing scant inches from his heart. He remembered something like a lightning bolt passing through his body as he fell to the ground. The dogs leaped on the NVA officer and the last thing Parker could recall was something shiny flipping out of the enemy soldier’s mouth and into the vegetation as he hit the ground. Now, he realized it was a dog whistle.

  He had never been told what had happened after he�
��d passed out. He thought his shot had been true and if it wasn’t, surely the dogs had finished the job.

  Parker now realized the face was the same as the one on the bugaku mask in the dream. Truong’s face without the scars.

  He glimpsed over his shoulder and saw the man dressed in black with a black patch over his eye.

  “Truong.”

  It was obvious now, but still preposterous.

  “Sergeant Parker, you spoiled the surprise. You peeked,” Truong said, grinning very unpleasantly.

  That grin, that terrible grin, from a monster who had caused so much pain and snuffed out so many precious lives was too much for Parker to bear. He brought the flashlight around with a backhand that knocked the pistol out of Truong’s right fist and bounced it off the front fender of the van. He’d caught Truong completely off guard.

  Next, he came around with his left and sent it smashing upward into Truong’s nose, immediately causing blood to splatter. Truong fell back and rolled onto his stomach.

  Parker bent down, reaching for the gun but was surprised when Truong gave a mule kick to his temple, forcing his head into the wheel of the van. The flashlight flew.

  Truong came to his feet.

  No time to go for the gun. Parker stood and faced him. Truong obviously knew what he was doing. He was well schooled in the martial arts, probably kung fu. Parker had taken tae kwon do lessons while in the Marines but that was so long ago. The hand-to-hand combat training they had drilled into his brain in boot camp hadn’t been put to the test in a fight to the death and was long forgotten. It was evident Truong was well practiced, seeing the bodies he’d left in the parking lot.

  He came at Parker. A scissors kick hit Parker in the jaw, but he stepped back and avoided more damage.

  Blood streamed from Truong’s nose.

  Blood rolled down both sides of Parker’s face.

  He came at Parker again with a sidekick, but instead of backing away, Parker stepped into his attack. He caught Truong’s leg, drove his fist into Truong’s groin, then yanked the little man’s leg up, sending him to the ground. Truong fell onto his back but flipped over again and kicked Parker in the gut with devastating force. Parker doubled up and fell to the ground. Truong leaped on top of him, but his slight build was no match for Parker’s body weight. Parker rolled on top.

  It was a terrible surprise to see that Truong had somehow come up with Jack’s gun. Truong slammed it into the side of Parker’s face, then sent another blow to his temple. Lights flashed inside Parker’s head. He felt as though he were falling. Another strike to the back of the head, and things went black.

  CHAPTER 50

  “Now, bring both of your hands behind your back, slowly, very slowly.”

  Parker came to, face down in the gravel. His arms were being pulled to his back. He heard chains and recognized the type by their feel. Truong had taken two separate choker chains and put one around each of his wrists.

  “Oh, what ugly injuries,” Truong said, laughing. “Looks like dog bites. You must have a doctor look at them. Now, over here.”

  He pulled Parker to his feet, then pushed him toward the door of the clinic. Parker had no way to fight back. He stumbled into the wall, hitting it with the side of his face. Truong opened the door and shoved him inside. He flipped a light switch, and the bright lights exploded in Parker’s eyes, causing them to burn.

  Parker felt the fever returning, the throbbing in his neck, the stiffness in his joints. The flu symptoms returned. Rabies flu.

  Truong walked Parker into the examination room, then went to the middle of the floor. He rolled the examination table to the far side, revealing a steel restraining ring in the floor. Parker knew what was next. The ring hinged out of a recess in the concrete. It was used specifically to tie up large animals for examination and minor surgery.

  “Now sit, and make yourself comfortable, Sergeant Parker.”

  “Give it up, Truong. The war was over years ago.”

  Truong thrust the gun barrel against Parker’s neck. It caused him to recoil with pain.

  “Sit, I said!” Truong yelled and shoved Parker to the floor.

  Truong pulled the chains through the loop from both sides until Parker’s wrists were against it tight, then tied the chains together several times. Parker struggled to get free. It was impossible.

  Truong stepped across the room and sat on a stool, next to the sink. Parker looked at Truong’s right eye. It was dark and dilated, like Yankee’s eyes had been earlier.

  “You are probably wondering about my good English,” Truong said. “I’ve studied and practiced it for years. I was taught during the war to interrogate the American prisoners. Then, I refined my knowledge of it along the way. You see, it was of benefit to carry out my plan. Knowing your language well has helped me to get around in your country, and most importantly, it allows me to explain what you have done to me and what I have, now, done to you.

  “Why are you doing this, Truong?” Parker asked, “Why didn’t you just kill me?”

  “Oh, that would have been much too easy. I want you to suffer.”

  “Why? That was years ago. It was war.”

  “War? Whose war? Not yours. You invaded my country, my home, and because you did, hundreds of thousands of my people died. It wasn’t your place to come to my home and do that.”

  “I didn’t want to be there, either. My country’s leaders thought we should be. So I was there, doing what I was told to do.”

  “And with what results? Prolonging the inevitable? Now we are at peace, free from war, finally. And guess when that happened? Right after you filthy Americans left.”

  “At peace? I don’t know, but free, you’re not.”

  “Would you like to discuss Vietnamese politics now, Sergeant? Why do you insist on talking about something you know nothing about and will never understand? The fact is, you invaded my home and bombed and sprayed and shot and burned and raped my people, my friends, my family, me!” Truong clinched his jaw and raised the gun.

  Parker bowed his head, waiting for the bullet.

  CHAPTER 51

  Truong rubbed the gun barrel against the disfiguring scars on his face.

  “Oh no, Sergeant Parker, I’m not finished with you yet. You see, I want you to hear the whole story. I want you to be sorry for what you’ve done. I want you to beg for forgiveness and plead for your life. Then, I may feel sorry for you and let you live.”

  Parker looked up at Truong. “Give it up, Truong. No more killing, no more blood.”

  “What about the killing and the blood when you dropped your bombs on my country—on my children? I had three of them, all beautiful and happy. They loved their father. They expected their father to keep them safe and to protect them. But while I was away in one of your prison camps, the bombs fell. They fell on my house, on my mother and my children.”

  “I’m sorry. But that was years ago.”

  “You’re sorry? I believe you are. But you are not forgiven. Are you also sorry for my father and two brothers, who were killed trying to repel your invasion? Sorry for killing my uncle and three cousins? And how about my wife and my best friend? They were killed after the war, but you killed them just the same.”

  Truong turned away and looked out the window over the sink.

  “You see, because you killed me, I killed them.”

  Parker looked at Truong almost sympathetically. He’d been responsible for Jack’s death and Doc’s. He’d been responsible for at least a half-dozen other deaths and the serious mutilation of Sarah. He hated him. But, at the same time, he felt sorry for him.

  “When you and your dogs attacked me, I was unable to defend myself. I lost my gun and your dogs nearly devoured me,” he said and turned back to face Parker. “You trained them well. They ripped and tore at my leg until there was little left but bone.” He emphasized, making clawing motions with his badly scarred left hand. “They devoured my testicles and left me with a tiny stump of a penis.” He indicated with
his thumb and forefinger. “They chewed on my hand and arm, and then, they ripped at my face and punctured my left eye,” he said, pushing the gun barrel against his eye patch.

  Parker stared at him and swallowed hard. What he was describing was not at all unlike what he had seen over the last few days.

  “Don’t you think I’m pretty? Don’t you think I would be sexually desirable to the opposite sex, to my wife?” Truong smiled with his right eye bulging. He chuckled briefly. “Well, when I got home, after I’d spent three years in a prison camp and your doctors had ‘done all they could’, my wife wasn’t real happy to see me. She didn’t think I was pretty or sexually desirable—as if that were even an issue with what your dogs had left me. She had found someone else who was. You see, I can’t really blame them. My wife was a very attractive woman, and she needed a man, a real, whole man. So I waited until I knew they were together and walked into the bedroom—my bedroom by the way—and shoved my gun right up my best friend’s ass—and killed them both with one bullet. They died slowly. I think they bled to death. I sat down on the bed beside them and watched.” He stared at the wall behind Parker.

  “I felt empty after that. You see, the only thing left in me, the only emotion I possessed was hate. Hatred for you and what you had done to me and my family. You’d killed us all, and you were alive and well and living in the wealthy and all-powerful United States of America!”

  He glared down at Parker with a hideous grin and pointed the gun again.

  Parker stared back, now defiantly.

  “Oh, now, what’s that righteous look for?” Truong asked. “For your friends that I killed? Don’t you see? You killed them, too. This is all your fault.”

  “You’re out of your mind,” Parker said back.

  Truong chuckled. “Yes, of course I am. How else do you think I could have lasted this long. You see, when I was being attended by your corpsman, after you’d been well taken care of, of course, I overheard them say your name and that you’d be going back to Kansas. They said you’d survived my bullet—that you’d recover without any problems. I was mad at first that I hadn’t been able to kill you. But later, after you killed my wife, I realized it was better that you hadn’t died so quickly, so easily. I had the opportunity to cause you almost as much pain and grief as you caused me.” He smiled again at Parker.