Stewart could see a clear tube connecting an IV bag to his arm. He tried to pretend to nod off but felt another cold flush in his veins and was suddenly very alert and eager to talk. “What are you giving me? That stuff is really good!” “It’s a medication to help you remember. Do you remember begging for your life the night I took you from your home?” He was quiet for a moment. “Yes… you’re going to spare my life. Where are the police? I will tell them everything.” The Eagle took a small black microphone and hooked it onto a sheet covering Stewart’s body. Suddenly, Stewart heard the sound of an electric motor, and his head began to rise on the table. As he rose, he could see a camera and lights in front of him. There were several flat screen television monitors in different locations around him. One was right next to the camera, and he could see the full length of his body and the sheet covering him.
“Think of yourself as a celebrity, Stewart. You’re going to tell the world your story.” “What story?” “The story of the ‘Catacomb Killer.’ That’s what they’re calling you in the media. Your name has been in the headlines of every newspaper and news report since I took you.” “Who is the Catacomb Killer?” “You are, Stewart. Pay attention when I speak to you.” He showed him the front page of the Los Angeles Times. The page had a photograph of Roskowski with the banner headline: ‘Catacomb Killer Sought After Gruesome Discovery in West Covina Neighborhood.’ Stewart stared at the headline for a few seconds and then looked over at his captor. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Stewart. That all depends on how cooperative you are.” “I’ll talk. I’ll talk; just don’t hurt me.” The Eagle didn’t say a word. He pointed the remote at the camera, and Stewart’s face was on all the screens.
Over the next four days, The Eagle tortured and interviewed Roskowski until he had gathered the last details about his final four victims. “Wow,” said The Eagle when he had gotten through the final interview. “That was a hell of a confession. You did good, Stew.” Then he untied Stewart’s right hand and gave him a pen. “Sign your name on the bottom of your confession.” Stewart did as he was directed then handed the pen back to The Eagle. “So, do I get to go to the police now?” “No, Stew, I’m afraid not. There’s no sense in wasting the time of law enforcement as well as the courts. Why should the taxpayers have to pay to house you and make you comfortable in a prison somewhere? Think about the families and parents of your victims. Do you think they should have to relive the horrific things that you did to their children?” There was silence. “You see my point don’t you, Stew? It’s just so unsavory, and we both know that you will grandstand in order to enjoy the suffering of your victims again in the faces of their families. No, you won’t plead out. You would want a trial and the opportunity to relive what you did to each of those children. You and I know that you have a very, very good memory, and you remember every one of your victims in great detail. You would plead insanity, which would go back and forth for months, until you’d be found competent to stand trial where you’d be found guilty. Then, as if it that wasn’t torture enough for the families of your victims, the penalty phase would let you relive your sick perverted fantasies once more. It’s just not right.” The Eagle watched as the sheet covering Roskowski rose near his penis as he listened to The Eagle’s words. “Even now as I talk about it, you’re getting aroused. No, Stew. I feel the only fair thing to do is for me to carry out your sentence; you have already admitted guilt.” No response from Stew. He laid still; the pup-tent of his penis rising.
“Well, now that we have that out of the way, it’s time to get into the formalities of your punishment.” Silence met his statement. “Not much for talking now, huh? Well, don’t worry. You’re all done talking. It’s time for you to feel real pain, the kind you made those little girls feel.” Stewart became aware of a large table next to his bed that was covered with a sheet. It had been there since he first woke up, but he had not looked at it out of fear. The Eagle left the camera on so that Stew could see himself on the television screens. “So, let’s get right to it.” There was a pulley-like contraption above him, and he realized that there were very thin wires on the corners of the sheet that covered him. The Eagle had been talking toward the camera and not to him when he noticed the cables. The Eagle pushed a button on the remote, and the sheet lifted off the table to reveal his nude body and his very own items. “Do you recognize these items, Stew?” He said yes and started to cry. “DON’T START,” The Eagle said to him very sternly. “I’ve had enough of your whining and complaining.” There was a warm feeling in Stewart’s arm as he noticed the clear liquid being injected into his IV. “What did you give me?” “It’s a muscle relaxer and pain enhancer, Stew. It’s a drug that’s used when you have surgery. It paralyzes you. I use a lower dose, so you can still breathe on your own, but you still have complete sensation. In fact… this drug heightens the pain. You’ll love it.”
Stewart looked over at the screen and could see his nude body. He saw no visible restraints, and he tried to move to no avail. “You’re going to find moving a bit difficult. I grabbed your drug concoction when I took you from your house, so you are feeling just what those little girls felt when you were ‘playing’ with them.” Stew looked at his body on the monitors. He was bruised and bleeding all over, yet he didn’t recall how he got such serious injuries. The Eagle smiled at Stew as he pushed a button on the remote and a video of him with one of his victims started to play. He was nude and his little victim was on her stomach with Stew on top of her. He watched with intensity and began to get aroused again. He commented on the clarity of the picture, and he recognized the screams and said the name of the girl. “You do have an uncanny memory when it comes to your crimes, Stew.” The video went dark, and The Eagle brought out one of Stewart’s own scalpels which he used on his victims. Within a few seconds, Stewart was screaming uncontrollably, pain was searing through his entire body. He could see his own blood spraying into the air, but he didn’t know where it was coming from.
Stewart felt his captor’s large arms grab him and flip him onto his stomach. “Well, this disgusts me to no end, so let’s get you done. I have other things to do today.” The Eagle pulled out a large power tool that was intended for cutting. Rather than spinning, the mechanism oscillated, and the blade had been replaced with a very large dildo. “I believe this is one of your favorite ‘toys.’” Stewart began screaming as the tool started vibrating, and he watched his own face and nude body on the monitor as the dildo was inserted into his anus.
It had been two weeks and nothing from Stewart Roskowski or his believed captor. Steve had just finished some paperwork at his office and was getting ready to leave for the night when a courier showed up with a package for him. There was nothing on the padded manila envelope but his name; however, he had a pretty good idea who sent it. He knew there was no sense in interrogating the courier; he most likely received it through his company and took it via their instructions. Steve had received other communications from The Eagle the same way through the years, and he knew the futility in chasing down the folks who brought the messages. He took a pair of gloves from his desk and put them on and then closed his office door. He held the envelope with a pair of tweezers, cut a slit in the top of it, and turned it upside down, allowing the contents to fall out onto his desk. There was a DVD and several folded pieces of white paper in the envelope. On the front of the DVD case, there was a very distinct thumb print, and, on the reverse, in red and black, was the emblem of The Iron Eagle. It was an eagle with black and crimson wings spread wide in a display of power, its black head with crimson eyes facing straight ahead, clenching a black and crimson rod in its talons. On the right end of the rod, the bird clutched a bundle of arrows, and at the other end was a circle with the scales of justice. He picked up the phone and called down to the lab to let them know they would be working late.
He then placed the objects in an evidence bag and walked down the three flights of
stairs to meet with his team. He called Jim and asked if he had received anything from The Eagle, which he hadn’t. “Whadda ya got,” he asked. “The usual calling card of The Eagle with the exception of the fact that with the distinctive folded paper he sent a DVD.” There was a chuckle on the other end of the line, “Hmm…you think he’s going into the porn business?” They both laughed, and Jim asked if he could come by. Steve told him it was fine, and he went on with his investigation. Jim stopped at a local coffee shop and picked up a large container of regular coffee and all the sandwiches they had left from the day on the way over to Steve’s office.
Jim arrived with a large box and was greeted at the front door by security. They did the usual security check on the packages and then sent him up to the lab. As he approached the door he called out, “Delivery.” Steve opened the door and let him in. “What the hell, Jim?” “Anyone here had dinner?” He got nothing but blank faces from Steve and his team. “Well, here you go. I brought dinner, and you guys have the movie.” There was a little laughter, everyone grabbed a sandwich, and they all sat around in the lab eating and making small talk. Finally Jim stood up and asked, “So, are we going to see this DVD on the big or small screen?” There was a little humor in the room, but there was also a real sense of tension. This was a whole new world that they were about to enter. They had been searching for The Eagle for over a decade and never once had he been as brazen as this.
The DVD case and contents had been cleared by the lab techs for any booby traps or other hazardous materials. Steve opened the case and took out the shining disc. He flipped it over; the emblem of The Eagle was burned onto the disc. Jim chuckled as he said, “Well…he’s getting downright professional, isn’t he?” Steve placed the DVD into a player, and it started playing on its own. There was a white room, and they could see a table and an image on it. A figure moved over toward the table and said, “Please state your full name for the record.” “Stewart Evan Roskowski.” His voice was strained and very scared; there was a pronounced quiver in it. “State your current vocation and the name and address of your current employer.” “I am the Coston Middle School Principal. 14115 Coston Street in West Covina.” The only sound on the disc was the voice of Roskowski now. Several sheets of paper with writing on them were placed in front of the camera. Steve knew they were the pages he held against the white screen behind him in the lab earlier. He hadn’t read their content, but he was relatively certain what they contained.
The Eagle spoke, “I hold before you the full and complete confession of Mr. Roskowski, signed and dated. My only regret is that I did not find him sooner. Mr. Roskowski, you have confessed to the rape, torture, and murder of seventy-seven children.” Steve’s team looked on in shock. Jim leaned toward Steve and asked, “I thought only sixty-three.” He nodded and then replied, “I guess there are more.” The DVD continued. “They weren’t children,” Roskowski cried out, “I’m sick. I have a mental illness. It’s a compulsion that I can’t control. I told you that. I’m not responsible for my actions.” Roskowski may have been uttering the words, but his facial expressions, wild eyes, and body language told a different story. One of Steve’s CSIs commented, “He’s lying. He knew damn well what he was doing.” The voice of The Eagle continued to press Roskowski. “Yes, you did tell me that, Stew. You also told me that they were your ‘pets.’ You and I know that you knew exactly what you were doing!” Roskowski screamed at The Eagle, “They were my pets; I had the right to do whatever I chose to do with them. I take good care of my pets and only discipline them when they are naughty.” His voice was deliberate and convincing. Jim turned to Steve and said, “The Eagle is a pure psychopath.” Steve waved his hand in a gesture of silence and at the same time shook his head no.
There were a few moments of silence, and then the camera was raised so that the viewers could see the whole face and body of Roskowski covered by a white sheet with numerous devices on a nearby table. They couldn’t make out all of them, but they all recognized several as instruments of torture. “Jesus,” Janet cried out, “this is one sick person.” She was the newest member of the team. She had just graduated from the academy at Quantico, and this was her first field assignment. Jim replied, “Which one?” No one replied; they just kept watching.
The Eagle spoke again, “The instruments and tools you see on this table are the property of Mr. Roskowski. They are the tools that he used on his victims, and they are the same tools that have been and will continue to be used on him.” Roskowski started screaming as a hand, presumably that of The Eagle, took a circular knife and laid it under his chin. “That looks like a scraping scalpel used in abortions or D&Cs,” one of Steve’s team members said. The sheet lifted off of the victim on its own, drawn as a magician would remove a covering from a levitating assistant. The nude body of Roskowski was exposed, bloodied and bruised. His genitals were swollen and discolored as if they had been beaten. The hands of The Eagle moved the tool slowly and deliberately. He used the instrument like a pen, moving it slowly from Roskowski’s neck down his chest and abdomen until it came to rest on his penis. A small line was being carved into the full torso of Roskowski as the instrument was moved and a line of crimson lay in the wake of the blade. All the while Roskowski was screaming, but he remained still as the steel tool was descending toward his genitals.
The voice of The Eagle rose above the screams of his victim. “Mr. Roskowski, you have admitted guilt in the torture, rape, and murder of all of your victims. I hereby sentence you to endure the same long and brutal death that you inflicted on them. May God NOT have mercy on your soul.” With that, The Eagle took Roskowski’s penis and scrotum in one hand and twisted and pulled them straight up. Roskowski’s screams continued as The Eagle used the tool in his other hand to emasculate Roskowski. The scream was deafening; arterial spray struck the camera lens. Several of Steve’s staff looked away; one ran to a nearby sink and threw up. Steve, Jim, and most of the others just watched as two huge arms covered by white sleeves with hands covered in black gloves drove a solid stainless steel rod into the hole that once held Stewart’s penis and testicles. Smoke rose as the unit cauterized the wound, and the screams of Stewart Roskowski echoed through the room. “Oh my God…I can’t believe the cruelty I’m witnessing,” said one of Steve’s profilers. Jim piped up, “I know this killer; you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
The Eagle grabbed Roskowski and flipped him onto his stomach. His ass was bloody and bruised, and The Eagle moved out of camera range for a moment and then returned with an oscillating device with a large rubber penis on it. The screams of Roskowski continued as The Eagle drove the dildo into Stewart’s anus, and the decibel level of his screams rose as the screen began to fade to black. The blood curdling screams commenced until they, too, faded out.
There were a few moments of silence broken eventually by Jim. “Well…that was interesting. So where do you think we’ll find Mr. Roskowski and his junk?” He asked it in such an off-the-cuff manner that Steve started laughing. It became infectious, and the entire room broke out into laughter. They knew it was wrong but couldn’t help themselves. Only Janet remained silent with a look of horror and disgust on her face. “So, do you still think that The Eagle isn’t a psychopath?” Steve turned to the room’s other inhabitants. “Look people, I know that this is a new phenomenon for this killer, but we see this type of thing every day.” “The hell we do,” said Janet, “we see corpses, we see photographs, but we don’t see a serial killer kill his victim before our very eyes.” Steve remained standing. “Mr. Roskowski didn’t die as a result of what we just witnessed.” Janet looked confused. “What are you talking about? This sicko just sentenced Roskowski to death and cut off his genitals. He’s dead.” Steve let out a little chuckle. “Janet, I know you’re new to the field, so I’m going to give you a little latitude here. Mr. Roskowski was still alive and screaming when the video ended. Now, we all know based on The Eagle’s past behavior that Roskowski is most likely d
ead.” Jim quipped quietly under his breath just loud enough for all to hear, “I sure as hell hope so.” “We just haven’t had the… opportunity… that’s as good a way to put it as any… to witness The Eagle at work. This opens a whole new window into the mind of The Eagle, so let’s try to learn from this without hysterics. We are professionals. Our focus needs to be on catching The Eagle and finding Roskowski.”
Janet sat back down, and Jim looked over at the clock. It was half past twelve. “Well, guys, it’s been fun. Thanks for dinner and the bloody movie. I’m going to take myself home and get some sleep. Next time we all meet, let’s try to watch something a little more upbeat, huh? Like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” He chuckled and started to walk toward the office door. Steve followed. The two stopped in the hall; Jim took a cigarette out of his top pocket and placed it behind his ear. “Jim, you asked me if this proves that The Eagle is a psychopath. No way. He’s a sociopath, pure and simple.” “That’s crazy. Sociopaths aren’t violent by nature.” “You’re right, but this is no normal sociopath we’re dealing with. I’ve suspected for some time that The Eagle isn’t your run of the mill serial killer.” Jim laughed, “Ya think?” “I think he’s one of us.” “Are you saying that you think The Eagle’s a badge?” “Yes…” Jim looked around with a sneaky stance. “So, do ya think it’s you…or me?” A smile grew across his round face. Steve couldn’t help himself and started laughing. “Stop being a smart ass. I’m serious. I really think this guy’s brass.” “Well even if he’s not local, state, or federal, I have to admit he thinks his balls are made of metal. Too bad Roskowski’s weren’t.” That sent them both into hysterics and brought Janet out into the hall to see what the commotion was all about. They tried to act cool, but Janet wasn’t amused. She leaned back against the wall in the hall as several of her fellow agents were exiting for the restrooms. Jim and Steve spoke out of ear shot for a few more minutes, and as the last of her colleagues returned to the lab she asked, “Why do they call him The Iron Eagle?” Jim was suddenly interested again and followed Steve and Janet back into the lab, so he could hear the story, or more exactly, explain the story, of The Iron Eagle.
Rise of The Iron Eagle (The Iron Eagle Series Book 1) Page 5