Fight Game - Debt Collector 11 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  “Yeah, what do you see?”

  “I might call it God’s purpose, but you, you might call it righting wrongs. At the end of the day, it’s the same, Jack. We overturn injustice.”

  Jack smiled and shook his head. It had been the first time since he’d known Dalton that he’d compared his work to Jack’s. Yet in some ways he was right. Dalton rescued those who couldn’t help themselves and for a time so had Jack.

  “Anyway, is Dana still working for the San Francisco Chronicle?”

  In the few days he’d already spent with Dalton, he hadn’t really asked about Dana in Colorado, as it just wasn’t his way to pry. He knew that their relationship together was uncharted territory and he was well aware of their shaky history. Still, he was smart and waited until the opportunity presented before asking. Maybe that’s why he liked Dalton. He only dug deep when someone gave him a shovel; otherwise he respected their privacy and just accepted a person, as they were, flaws and all.

  Jack tossed his napkin on his plate. “No, actually she left that job not long after the incident in San Francisco. Even though I’ve told her she doesn’t need to work, she decided to do some freelance writing on the side… for some blog.”

  “Some blog?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, sounding almost uninterested. “In fact she’s probably on the road more than I am.”

  “Really? Isn’t that a turn of events. So… what have you been doing to keep busy? I can’t exactly see you playing second fiddle, or has the great Jack Winchester finally been domesticated?”

  They both laughed and Dalton offered him more coffee.

  “To tell you the truth, for the first eight months I did nothing. We spent a lot of time just reconnecting, enjoying the peace and quiet. Dana would read. I would work on the property. It was good and I wish it could have stayed that way.”

  Dalton raised a hand to his forehead. “Oh no, you had a falling-out, didn’t you?”

  “No.” Jack laughed. “She wanted to return to work. To keep her mind occupied. She started writing, and traveling.”

  He nodded and pursed his lips for a second. “So it’s a travel blog?”

  “I assume,” he said sipping his coffee.

  “You assume? You didn’t ask her or you weren’t interested?”

  He snorted. “Of course I’m interested. She says it’s related to travel.” He shrugged.

  “So what about you?”

  “Ah, I chose to help around the town. You know, do small odd jobs for people.”

  “Odd jobs?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dalton raised an eyebrow.

  Jack smirked. “Not those kinds. No, you know… handyman types of jobs. Fixing gutters, clearing yards.”

  “So that’s what a vigilante does when they retire?”

  They both laughed hard and for a moment they sat in the comfortable silence. All that could be heard was the sound of ticking coming from a grandfather clock farther down the hallway.

  “Look, it got me out of the house. It feels good to use my hands for something that actually survives. And fixing things just comes…”

  “Natural?” Dalton asked. “It’s good. Real good, Jack. You’ve always had a way of fixing people’s problems.” He took a sip of his coffee then frowned. “But still, a handyman? Wow, I would have never figured you for that.”

  “It’s honest work.”

  “That it is. Does it pay well?”

  “I wouldn’t know, I haven’t charged anyone.”

  Dalton nearly spit out his coffee. “That last job must have paid well or you’ve lost your marbles.”

  They both laughed.

  “Well, Jack, I’m just glad you’ve found some peace. It doesn’t matter what or where it is. I’m happy for you.”

  “I appreciate that.” He finished his drink and set the cup down. “Look, I should go pack,” Jack said, rising from the table. “Tell Karen I appreciated her having me.”

  “I will do.”

  Jack stopped at the doorway and looked back tapping the frame ever so slightly. “Dalton, it’s been good seeing you again.”

  “Likewise. You’re always welcome, Jack. You know that.”

  Jack headed off to get ready for his flight, which left later that morning. It was a good five hours back with all the stops, and by the time he arrived it would be the middle of the afternoon.

  After showering, getting dressed and gathering his things, he zipped up the bag and sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his wallet. He slipped out the wrinkled letter from Eddie and read it again.

  Jack,

  If you’re reading this now, I’m no longer here. I’ve written this letter so many times. I’ve tried to mail it even more times.

  It’s funny the path we take in life. The older I get the more I realize that so much of what we do is meaningless. When we are young, we throw ourselves into all manner of things. We think we are invincible and that nothing will touch us. Perhaps that’s why I joined the military. Maybe that’s why many others do. There is a driving need to feel a sense of purpose, direction, and meaning in our lives. And what better way than to align ourselves with a group who say they are trying to change the world. To make it a better place. But truth is, it’s all the same. There is no good or bad side. Each of us makes choices that we justify as being right.

  Every side thinks they are good. The rest is just hearsay.

  When I met your mother, she was the most beautiful person I had laid eyes on. She had a warm heart. Somehow she could see into my core. She saw the pain I hid. The mask that I wore to keep people at a distance.

  When I joined the military, I knew things between us wouldn’t stay the same. I blame myself in many ways for the breakdown of our relationship. And I would like to say your mother was better off without me in her life. But that wouldn’t be true. I never imagined what would happen to her, or either of you.

  After a few months in the service for Uncle Sam, I learned your mother was pregnant with you. She told me you were my son, but I didn’t accept it. By the time I got out, she had already been living for years with the one you believed to be your father. From what I know, he is the father of Milly, but you are my son. I’ve come to believe that.

  Jack, what I did that night when I murdered the man you believed was your father, was for you, your sister, and your mother. I’m sorry I wasn’t there from the time you were born, to protect you and keep you from harm. I tried to persuade you not to get involved with Gafino. But you are like me in so many ways. Stubborn, driven, and will only learn after the fact.

  But now, I want you to know about me. I didn’t work at the factory. I did for a time. But I earned my money doing other work. Work that helped people. Those who were looked over by the court system. Those who deserved protection, justice, and someone to be in their corner. There should be enough money stashed here to help you if you need it. And if you wish to continue the work that I began, you’ll find out everything you need to know on the computer. It’s not easy, Jack. But you and I are cut from the same cloth. Gafino would have said we are killers. But that’s not true. Killing is easy. Anyone can do that. What determines who we are, are our choices. You have a choice, Jack. I know you are haunted by what you have done. The bloodshed. The lives you have taken. And maybe you wish you could reverse time. I wish I could. But what you can do is determine how you finish. How? By helping others. Those who are tread upon by unscrupulous individuals.

  But you must know this. It’s not an easy path to take. You can’t surround yourself with those who might be harmed. I think you already know that. Maybe you won’t have someone there beside you at the end of the day. But when you rest your head on that pillow, you will know that you have done what others wouldn’t do. You will have helped those who couldn’t help themselves.

  I can’t make that choice for you. And I would understand if you chose to walk away from everything and lead a quiet life.

  But I think you’ll know what to do when you are ready.


  You will find the set of keys belongs to a truck that I bought a year ago. Ownership is in your name. It’s not much, and I never learned to drive but it’s for you. You’ll find it on the premises. I’ve paid to have it stored in one of the larger units. Use the second key to get in.

  For now, all I can say is what I should have said, years ago.

  I love you, son.

  Eddie

  Jack closed the letter and stared absently out the window. It would have been lying to say that he hadn’t wrestled with the thought of giving up helping others. Was it really his responsibility? Was it Dalton’s? Hadn’t he done enough? Did it even matter? Every day he awoke to bad news playing on the Internet, TV and radio. News stories were filled with injustices. He hadn’t turned a blind eye because he couldn’t but if he was to have a life with Dana that couldn’t be part of his future. Not anymore. A light breeze blew apart the drapes. The hum of traffic far below seeped in as the world came alive.

  Chapter 2

  San Francisco

  “I don’t care how you do it, who you lie to, or whose mother you piss off in the process. I want something new, fresh, and exciting, people!” Roger Johnson, the editor in chief of the San Francisco Chronicle, bellowed at the top of his voice as he paced in front of the entire staff. “This newspaper’s circulation has dropped by more than 28 percent over the last year and it only gets worse by the month. At this rate we’ll all be out of a job and living off food stamps if we don’t turn this around.”

  Kelly Armstrong was all thumbs as she tapped out the minutes for the meeting. It was one of several jobs handed to her, along with doing runs for coffee and all manner of shit that was usually assigned to intern reporters. Most would have complained and kicked up a fuss but she knew it was all part of the learning curve. At twenty-two years of age she didn’t expect much less. Her father told her that if she wanted to make a name for herself she had to be prepared to start at the bottom. Promotions weren’t handed out, and no one was entitled to them. She’d have to work her way to the top. That meant being a team player, tackling crappy tasks, showing up early, leaving late, and outworking every other person in the company.

  “It’s the Internet,” Zach Larsen mumbled.

  “Who said that?” Roger spun on his heels eyeing worried faces.

  Zach was perched on the corner of a desk near Kelly, pulling a piece of gum from his mouth and then sucking it back in. Everything about his demeanor was nonchalant. He embodied every trait that annoyed Kelly. He didn’t take his job seriously, he did the least amount of work, and he was full of excuses and spent most of his time flitting from desk to desk cracking jokes or flirting. How his antics had managed to fly under Johnson’s radar for so long was an utter mystery. He reminded her of an overgrown weed, with coffee-stained teeth, a ’70s porn stache that looped over his lip like a horseshoe, tight curly hair that resembled a cheap wig more than the real thing, and he wore this overpowering cologne that made her want to gag every time he was around. But that wasn’t all. Oh no, he was a fashion disaster with bargain bin clothes that smelled of mothballs and he had a tendency to put his foot in his mouth every chance he got. And when anyone called him out over it, he would pass the buck to someone else.

  “He did,” Zach said pointing to Erik Jenkins, the assistant city editor, a quiet man who was known for not speaking up for himself. Erik got this surprised look on his face and his lips parted as if he was about to protest but it was too late, Johnson barreled towards him and jabbed a stubby finger in his face. “You’re fired!”

  “But…”

  “No buts. I don’t have time for excuses. I want results and right now we are not getting them.”

  Erik turned and squeezed through the crowd heading for the door.

  Zach chuckled to himself and Kelly gave him a slap on the arm. Zach tossed up his hands and mouthed the word, “What?” It didn’t take him long to realize he couldn’t allow Johnson to fire Erik when he wasn’t the one who’d said it. Zach sighed. “Roger, it wasn’t Erik. It was me.”

  Erik turned and waited, hoping that Johnson would tear a limb off him. Instead it was quite the opposite. “Larsen! Always the joker. Come on back, Erik,” Johnson said.

  All the staff sat with slack jaws expecting Zach to get busted but once again he escaped like Harry Houdini. What the hell? She shook her head and returned to tapping out the minutes. “Listen, people, I know the Internet is working against us but that’s because we don’t have a big enough story for people to sink their teeth into. We need something they can keep returning to, whether it’s in print or on our website. Something that grabs them by the balls and doesn’t let them go. When the average joe sits down to have breakfast they want to be wowed. They want mystery, intrigue, titillation, scandal and something or someone they can get behind. Look at every big story that has blown up across the world. It’s either a tragedy or a success, and often the best is a mixture of both. People are tired of reading sports, hearing about politicians, the state of this country and celebrity trash. We need to give them something bigger, better and more satisfying.” Johnson clasped his hands behind his back and walked over to a large third-story window that looked out over the heart of the downtown. “Look at them out there. Like tiny ants running to and fro, tired of their mundane lives. These people are starving and I intend to feed them,” he bellowed stretching out his arms like Charlton Heston giving his best impression of Moses at the Red Sea.

  Kelly glanced around the room. Everyone was hanging on every word that spilled from his lips and expecting him to have the answer, but he didn’t. Johnson spun around and clapped his hands together. “Well. Get to it! You’re not paid to stand around. Find me that story, and maybe I’ll let you keep your job.”

  The crowd thinned out as staff hurried to their workstations, some left the office and others got on phones. Kelly remained there finalizing the minutes.

  “Armstrong, why the hell are you still here?”

  “I… I was taking minutes, sir.”

  “Oh.” He nodded. “Right. Well, carry on.”

  She raised a finger. “Um, sir, I had this story…”

  He turned and disappeared into his office, slamming the door and then bringing his blinds down so he could spend the rest of his day drinking coffee and pretending he was working. She’d been meaning to share an idea for a story but there was never an opportunity. Kelly sighed and looked gloomily at his office. From behind her she heard that weasel’s voice. “Armstrong.” She turned to face him. “You really are a go-getter,” Zach said eyeing her with a smug grin on his face.

  “And you’re a shit stirrer,” she said getting up and brushing past him.

  Zach hopped off the table and fell in step. “Hey. C’mon now. It was all just a bit of fun.”

  “He nearly lost his job, Zach. Isn’t it time you grew up?”

  “If I’m not mistaken it was Peter Pan who said to never grow up.”

  She rolled her eyes and threaded her way around the office.

  “So what story do you have in mind, princess?”

  “Would you stop calling me that?”

  “Just curious.”

  She continued walking.

  “So?”

  “What? Are you still here?” she asked shooting him a sideways glance.

  “Like your favorite dream.”

  “I think I just vomited in my mouth,” she said turning away from him and switching her computer on. Zach perched on her desk and draped his arm over her computer monitor like he was some GQ model or Steve Jobs.

  He sniffed and glanced around the room like he was God’s gift to women. “You know, Armstrong. I could show you the ropes. I’ve been here a long time and…”

  Kelly shook her head. “How do you get away with it?”

  The corner of his lip curled. “With what?”

  “Doing absolutely nothing and yet everything. I would have thought Johnson would have canned your ass by now.”

  Zach glan
ced at the screen. “Please, he wouldn’t dare do that.”

  “Everyone is replaceable, Zach.”

  “Not me,” he said leaning forward and giving a nod towards Johnson’s office. “Not unless he wants his relationship with my aunt Lucinda to go sour.”

  “Your aunt?”

  “Yeah, him and her have been seeing each other for what? Three years now?”

  He began picking at his teeth. It was a disgusting sight.

  “And that gives you some entitlement to walk around the office acting like a jackass?”

  “Whoa, tiger, where did that come from? That’s cold, Armstrong.” He laughed and she turned her head away so he continued. “No, it just gives me some breathing room and besides… Johnson likes me.”

  “News flash, Zach. No one likes you. And take that from someone who’s been here only a few months.”

  “Ah I don’t know about that. Sure I ruffle a few feathers from time to time but who doesn’t? It’s a cutthroat business, Armstrong. The sooner you learn that the better. That whole cheerleader, go-getter approach only goes so far. You’ve got to be willing to step on a few toes to climb the ladder. People just hate the fact that I’m at the top while they eat the crumbs from my table.”

  She blew out her cheeks. “You’re deluded.”

  He laughed. She tried to ignore him and busy herself by pulling up some of the information she’d been looking into when he leaned over the monitor and blocked her view.

  “Do you mind?” she asked.

  “What is that you’ve brought up there?”