Assassin's Redemption: Stolen Memories, #1

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Assassin's Redemption: Stolen Memories, #1 Page 25

by Richard Allen Evans


  They made it to the third floor and found no one at the check-in desk. Cyprus looked at Liam and motioned toward the men's room who pulled a telescopic baton from inside his jacket and waited by the bathroom door. Cyprus turned his attention to the CID Office door. He quickly picked the lock and went inside while Liam stood guard. Cyprus found the safe easily enough. He looked at the combination lock and smiled. It was an old safe, basically government surplus and at least twenty years past useful.

  In less than a minute he was inside. There was a video tape and an envelope inside along with several hand guns, a few hundred dollars in cash, and some jewelry.

  Cyprus grabbed the envelope and the tape. He closed the safe door and left office, carefully closing the door. He motioned to Liam and they headed for the stairwell. The stench of stale cigarette smoke burned his nostrils as he went down the stairs. They quickly found the glass doors and slipped out into the darkness. They just made it into an alley when a Chenoa Valley Utility Board bucket truck showed up.

  ***

  Haley rested her head upon Beau's chest and her fingers softly rubbed his left arm.

  “What are you thinking about?” She asked.

  He chuckled softly.

  “Oh, a lot of things. So much has happened in the past few days. It's like my mind is a blur,” Beau said.

  “I know what you mean. A lot has gone on,” Haley said.

  A couple of minutes later, she spoke again.

  “Is something wrong?” She asked as she raised up and looked at him with concern.

  He smiled softly and touched her face.

  “I don't know how it is you know me so well,” Beau said.

  “You want to talk about it?” Haley asked.

  “Well...you are probably one of the few people that would understand,” Beau said.

  “What's wrong?” She asked.

  “Our little secret is pretty much out now,” he began.

  “Does that bother you?” Haley asked.

  “No, not in the least. I'm happier than I've been in a very, very long time - maybe ever,” Beau said with a broad grin.

  “Good. So am I,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “It's just...I've been on my own for so long and uh, well, and I've gotten used to not having any family around. And now...I don't know,” he said.

  “And now you wish you had someone to share the news with, like your parents,” Haley said as he nodded.

  “As you know, I never knew my dad and I just have vague memories of my mom. But I did have my grandfather and I miss him every day. It's just that sometimes I wonder what they would think of the choices I've made - would they be disappointed or proud? What would it be like to tell them about this wonderful and beautiful woman in my life? As great as everything else is, I can't help but think about that,” Beau said.

  “I do understand. You want to share it with someone,” she said as tears came to her eyes. “I have the same thoughts. My dad would adopt you as the son he never had. And my mom, she would remind me what a catch you are,” Haley said laughing as her tears started to fall. “I can't help but think about things like that either. I think it's only natural for people like you and me.”

  “Seems like I always make you cry,” he said as he wiped away some tears.

  “Yeah, but in a good way,” she said.

  “For whatever reason, I've thought a whole about my dad recently. He was an Army sniper too. Maybe it was looking at the sniper's nest when Raven was killed that made me start thinking of him. I don't know. There's just so much that I would love to ask him. When I was in college I got to know an Army buddy of his - a man named Bud Rivers. He owned the newspaper in Crystal Springs. He's a great guy and shared a lot of stories with me,” Beau said.

  “I saw that picture of your dad in the Army.

  You look an awful lot like him,” Haley said.

  “Yeah, that's what Papaw and Bud both told me,” he said.

  “And I'll bet you share more traits than that,” she said.

  Beau chuckled again.

  “I've been told that too,” he said.

  “Were the words sweet and kind used?” Haley asked.

  Beau laughed.

  “The words 'stubborn and 'pig-headed' seem to stand out,” he said.

  She gave him a quick kiss.

  “I'd say more like 'strong and determined.' I'd add 'intelligent and thoughtful' too,” Haley said.

  His hands rubbed her shoulders.

  “I wish I could put into words how you make me feel. Just seeing your face brightens my whole day and your smile...your smile melts my heart. If my folks were here, they would be thrilled that their son has someone that causes his heart to overflow with pure joy,” Beau said.

  She smiled again.

  “That wasn't a bad job of putting it into words,” Haley said. “And just for the record, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.”

  ***

  Gene sat behind the desk in the library. He wore gray pajamas and a navy robe. He managed to get a few minutes of sleep before Cyprus returned.

  “Is this it?” Gene asked, looking at the large brown envelope and unmarked video cassette on his desk.

  “That's it,” Cyprus answered.

  “Any trouble getting in and out?” Gene asked.

  “None. If they have security cameras with night vision - which is highly unlikely - all they will see is two men in masks breaking in. It was actually quite easy - much more so than I expected from a former FBI man,” Cyprus said.

  “He doesn't have federal funding anymore. Thurman has to make do with the budget the county allows. In a day two that won't be his worry anymore,” Gene said as he opened the envelope.

  His eyes widened and his face burned bright red. Cyprus could tell this was more than just anger. This was abject embarrassment as well. He saw Gene's hand tremble.

  “Have you looked at these?” Gene asked.

  “No sir,” Cyprus said truthfully. His job was merely to recover the items - not look for an angle to leverage his employer. Not only did he consider it poor form but bad business as well.

  Gene recovered a degree of his composure.

  “How about the tape?” He asked gruffly.

  “No sir. We grabbed the items and made our way back here immediately,” Cyprus answered.

  “The guy with you, did he take a look at either?” Gene asked more calmly.

  “No sir. He's a fine operative. He follows orders,” Cyprus said.

  “I think it's time the feds went home. They need to make an arrest. Is our patsy ready?” Gene asked.

  “Yes sir. At your word an anonymous tip will be phoned in and the accused assassin will be found with the appropriate caliber rifle - .50 caliber I believe. Money - $50,000 - has also been electronically deposited in his account from some of our friends in the Middle East. It will be traced to an extremist group,” Cyprus explained.

  “And he'll scream he's been set up - just like Oswald, Ray, and Sirhan. We'll have to kill him,” Gene said.

  “Oswald was silenced but Ray and Sirhan are still behind bars protesting their innocence but far too few people believe them enough to reopen either case. The JFK case is still being discussed.” Cyprus said. “To kill our patsy would only create conspiracy theories that might lead to a real investigation and the truth.”

  Gene mulled his words. He finally grunted.

  “You might be right. We'll keep an eye on him though,” Gene said.

  “We have connections with every prison in the state. We can monitor him,” Cyprus said.

  “Are you getting squeamish on me D.C.?” Gene asked.

  “No sir. It's just that with your brother, the sheriff, his family, and possible collateral damage, any additional killing might be too coincidental for even the feds to ignore,” Cyprus said.

  “Good thinking D.C. Damn, I need sleep. I can't think clearly,” Gene said.

  “Will you be needing anything else tonight?” Cyprus asked.r />
  “No, just get the ball rolling on our patsy,” Gene said.

  “Goodnight sir. Sleep well,” Cyprus said as he turned to leave.

  “Goodnight D.C. Keep me apprised,” Gene said as returned his attention to the envelope.

  With Cyprus gone, he was finally alone to take the pictures out. Jack wasn't in any of the photographs. Instead, it was Bob Tackett and that whore Monique. How had Thurman managed to get this photos? How did he intend tie that to Jack?

  Gene looked at the video cassette. A small degree of panic stirred inside. He had known Monique since the early 1970s. As much as he tried to distance himself from her, she kept working her way back into his life.

  Even he acknowledged it was an unnatural attraction. It filled him with shame. Monique was his darkest secret - and given the life he had lead, that was saying something.

  As repulsed as he was by her at the moment, a part of him ached for her at the moment. Monique always helped him unwind. She wasn't the prettiest girl but he had to admit she had certain talents.

  He knew Bob loved to sample her oral skills. When they would get together and compare notes after an adventure with her, they held the always held the same opinion. Blowjobs fell into three categories: good, great, and Monique.

  And now, Bob would no longer share Monique with him. He was surprised he could feel any sadness for Bob after the way he put the entire campaign in danger. But try as he might, he could not suppress some level of grief. They had been friends once - maybe the only real friend each ever had.

  And they shared Monique.

  Gene carried the video cassette and the envelope. He decided to watch the tape in the privacy of his bedroom behind a locked door. No one else needed to see what might on that tape.

  “I love you Monique but you're going to be my downfall,” Gene whispered to himself.

  ***

  With the rifle and ammunition sloppily hidden in a grounds keeping shed it wouldn't take the FBI long to make the arrest. Dean Stasser had been a loyal member of the security force, following orders and keeping his mouth — and eyes when necessary — closed. His only crime was allowing a horny Jack Raven to borrow his car.

  And now, by virtue of that one favor, his life would be turned upside down forever. And if he decided to start revealing too many embarrassing details about the Ravens, his life would end. It might not be as violent as being shot but he would still be just as dead.

  Assassin Dean Lee Stasser. It had a ring to it, Cyprus had to admit. John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, James Earl Ray, and Dean Lee Stasser.

  If nothing else, Stasser would at least hold a place in history. Of course he would enjoy his spot from a prison cell or grave.

  Cyprus too out a burn phone and punched in the number of the FBI in Knoxville.

  “Dean Lee Stasser killed Jack Raven. He's part of the security detail. Check the grounds keeping shed in the northwest corner of the estate,” he said and clicked off the phone.

  With agents staying in a hotel in Stone City, it wouldn't be much longer until they arrived and a media firestorm followed.

  Gene tossed the envelope on the bed and walked over and hit the power button on his VCR. He started to insert the tape but hesitated. Leaving the videocassette halfway in the slot, he walked over to his dresser.

  He pulled the third drawer on the right side all the way out. He reached underneath his expensive collection of black and navy blue dress socks. Gene found the prize he sought. Expensive black silk panties with an “M” monogram.

  They represented both a treasure and a pleasure for him. The feminine undergarments sent a jolt through his system as he rubbed them with the fingers of his left hand. He could still smell the faint whisper of her perfume on them and Gene held them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

  He didn't know for certain Monique would be on the tape but based upon the photographs, he guessed she was likely the star of the video. Gene locked his bedroom door and made sure his blinds were drawn.

  He stripped out of his pajamas. Ignoring his wrinkles, sagging skin, and silver chest hair, he pushed the tape into the VCR and sat on the edge of the bed. Gene figured he might as well enjoy himself since he didn't know how long it would be before Monique returned.

  As the tape started to play, he felt his body respond. With Bob dead, Monique would need another playmate. Gene resolved to find one for her. He had discovered long ago how gratifying it could be to help Monique.

  The light flickered on the screen and strange unfamiliar music began to play along with the words, “From across the universe they rally for justice, the Galactic Hall of Heroes,” sang a tenor.

  “What the hell?” Gene asked as he sat up.

  He started to take the tape out before the cartoon cut away. What he saw almost made his heart stop. A chill covered him. Gene found himself staring into the cold eyes of Chet Thurman.

  “I figured you'd try something like this. Are you enjoying the movie?” Thurman asked with a chuckle.

  Gene was shaking from a combination of fear and anger.

  “Those photos you stole from that ancient safe were copies. The originals and the actual tape are stored in a secure location. I'm coming after you and I'll get you soon,” Thurman said and the screen went to static.

  Gene sat and stared for several seconds afraid to move for fear the image on the screen would step out. Still shaking, he became aware or the sudden wetness in his hands. He had urinated and in so doing had soaked the sheer panties in his hands.

  A low growl started deep inside but rose to a shrill howl by the time it came out of his mouth. He threw the soiled underwear on the floor and stomped over to the telephone beside his bed. Gene was still shaking so badly he could hardly key in the right four-digits.

  “D.C.? We're not waiting. We make a move on Thurman tonight!” Gene said.

  He listened for maybe two seconds before he cut off his security chief.

  “I don't give a fuck about what my father wants! I want this taken care of tonight! No more waiting! Do you understand me D.C.?” Gene shouted.

  He hesitated for a second.

  “Don't tell me to calm down!” Gene shrieked.

  He took a couple of deep breaths.

  “Okay. Come to my room. When you see the tape you'll understand,” he said.

  Three minutes later, Cyprus knocked on Gene's door. His boss greeted him wearing the same pajamas and robe he wore earlier in the evening but he looked disheveled. Actually, he looked very much shaken up. His face was ashen and his eyes were red as though he had been crying.

  Gene closed the door and locked it. He walked Cyprus over in front of the television.

  “Watch this!” Gene barked.

  As Cyprus waited for the tape to begin he noticed an odor. Someone had recently pissed in the room. Looking at his trembling boss, he had a good idea concerning the dark spot in the gray carpet.

  Like Gene, Cyprus was surprised by the cartoon. And then Thurman came on the screen. When he finished viewing it, he smiled.

  “Why are you smiling?” Gene asked in a coarse whisper.

  “He doesn't know,” Cyprus said.

  “He doesn't know what?” Gene asked.

  “He doesn't know who did anything. He set us up to swipe the photos and the tape but he doesn't know who took it. Thurman's trying to elicit a response. I suspect he sat a trap for us and if we rush in, he'll spring it,” Cyprus said.

  “He can't arrest anyone if he's dead,” Gene snarled.

  “True, but his people can and will. Besides, the FBI will be here within the hour. They will arrest Stasser tonight. If the grounds are crawling with feds who have just arrested a member of the security detail, how's it going to look if one or two are missing? Couple that with a murdered sheriff who tried to serve a search warrant here and the threats your father made in front of federal agents,” Cyprus said.

  Gene was breathing normally again and the color had returned to his face, albeit now it was redder than normal. />
  “Okay. You've made your point. But I still want him to suffer. Contact the Ghost,” Gene said.

  “Direct contact is impossible,” Cyprus said.

  “Find a way and reach him tonight! Twelve and a half million dollars ought to buy us a little access!” Gene snapped.

  “Yes sir. What should I tell him?” Cyprus asked.

  “I want Thurman and his wife eliminated no later than the end of the week. Tell him we'll take care of the niece. That's how he'll suffer,” Gene said gleefully.

  “Sir?” Cyprus asked.

  “He likes to investigate rapes and murders? We'll give him one. I want it videotaped and sent to him. I want him to know it's his fault before he dies,” Gene said.

  “Sir, a video would leave a trail of evidence and -” Cyprus was cut off.

  “Your men have masks and gloves, do they not?” Gene asked.

  “We do. But raping her would leave DNA evidence,” Cyprus argued.

  An evil grin crossed his face.

  “Not if the men use a prosthesis,” he said.

  “I'm sorry?” Cyprus said, not fully comprehending and not sure he wanted to understand what his boss was suggesting.

  “Sex toys man! Big ones! I want her brutalized. I want pain and suffering. The worse it is for her, the worse it will be for him,” Gene said.

  Cyprus nodded. Gene was twisted and sadistic but he paid well enough to salve any trace of a conscience that remained.

  “When sir?” He asked.

  “Tomorrow night. And use the new body cameras that broadcast. I'd like to see it myself,” Gene said, still grinning.

  Although he tried to ignore it, Cyprus couldn't help notice the erection Gene sported.

  ***

  Chuck awoke to the beeping laptop. High priority message. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He picked up his wristwatch from off of the antique nightstand.

  It was barely five a.m.

  For a high priority message to come in at that time peaked his curiosity to say the least. Chuck stumbled into the living room and sat down on the couch. As he opened the laptop, the flashing light stung his eyes. This was the highest priority message.

 

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