Rise of The Iron Eagle (The Iron Eagle Series Book 1)

by Roy A. Teel Jr.

  It was half past ten when Steve left Santiago’s for home. Jim pulled the cell phone from his pocket and dialed Barbara’s number. The phone started ringing and a groggy female voice answered “Hello.” “Hey, Barb, it’s me.” There was some soft rustling before she responded, thanking him for the call back. “You sound surprised.” “Well, we weren’t hitting high notes the last time we spoke.” “Hey, just because we weren’t getting along doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you. We were married for twenty years. What’s up?” “I wanted to ask if there has been any progress in Jill’s murder.” “Well, other than a rising body count, not really.” “I heard that Barry was killed.” “Yea…Steve and I were on scene after they found him; Steve said that The Eagle killed Barry as a mercy killing.” “That’s a pretty twisted idea.” “Well, profiling these guys is Steve’s job. We don’t have much to go on in Jill’s death other than Steve’s confidence that it was The Eagle. How are you doing? We haven’t had two words since the funeral. Are you sleeping at night?” “With the help of sleep meds; it’s still all surreal…I keep expecting her to walk through the office door or into my house at any second.” “You two were partners for a long time in the Marshal’s office. I know how it feels. It takes time. You know…Barry and I spent a lot of years working together and as friends. After Jill was murdered, he took a huge dive, and in my own twisted way I think his death was the best thing to happen to him. While I don’t like how he died and who killed him, I’m at peace with the idea that he’s not suffering anymore.” “I suppose that’s as good a way to look at it as any. I finally got up the nerve to clear Jill’s things from the house. She spent the bulk of her time living in my guest room. We didn’t have much of a life; work consumed it.” “Well, if you ask me you need to take a long vacation, get the hell out of town for awhile, get a change of scenery.” “I don’t have my travel companion anymore; God, I miss her.” She started crying, and Jim knew her too well. “Are you alone?” “Yes.” “I’m coming over.” “Thanks.” He hung up, waved goodnight to Javier, and headed for Barbara’s house, his old home in Tarzana.

  When Steve walked through the door of his home, Gail and Molly were sitting in the living room talking on the couch. They got quiet when he entered, and Molly walked over and threw her arms around his neck and started to cry. “Why Janet?” she sobbed into his suit coat. He knew there were no words that could comfort her. He held on to her tight, and soon Gail joined in the hug. She was the wife of a cop; she knew what it was like to lose a part of your police family. “How did you find out?” he asked. “The six o’clock news conference that you did. Why didn’t you call me first?” There was anger in her voice, and Steve knew it was justified. “I’m sorry, Moll; I didn’t think you’d be watching.” The home phone rang, and Steve broke free to answer it; it was Bob calling from Jersey. They spoke for a few minutes but neither talked about Janet. It was an unspoken rule. They exchanged some casual conversation and Bob made an off the cuff joke about Steve’s threesome. “I had a feeling you knew about that,” Steve said. “Did you have fun?” “Yea!” “That’s one thing about my Gail; she’s dynamite in the sack.” “You’re okay with this?” “Oh yea…Molly told us about your fantasies about Gail, and we talked it over, and I told them they should do something nice for you. I left it at that.” “Have you and Moll…” he stopped himself. There was a chuckle on the other end of the line, “Steve, I’m a thirty-two-year-old man…your wife’s hot. What do you think?” There was some nervous laughter, and Steve handed the phone to Gail.

  Molly had walked into the kitchen and was sitting at the table. “Do you have any leads on the killer?” she said, wiping the tears away with a napkin. “Not really. Jim and I saw a suspicious person on scene, but we didn’t get a good look at him. There are security cameras all over that park. I’ll have the films in the morning; we’ll catch the bastard.” “When you catch him, I want you to kill him.” That shocked him. Molly never talked about any crime, let alone vengeance. “You know I can’t do that. It’s my job to catch the bad guy; it’s up to prosecutors and a jury to deal with the criminal.” “For what…so the guy can get a nice warm prison cell, ‘three hots and a cot’? So he can live a comfortable life behind bars while the taxpayers foot the bill as he brags about his crime?” “Molly, what the hell’s gotten into you?” “I’m sick, Steve. I’m sick and worn out. I know you think that you’re the only one dealing with this shit, but you’re not. You don’t know how many times I’ve come to your office to surprise you when you’ve been working on cases through the years to keep the fire burning between us, only to find you asleep at your desk surrounded by cork boards with gruesome photographs of dead people, your desk piled high with grey profile folders. It used to scare the hell out of me; I used to look at you sleeping so peacefully with such violence all around you and wonder what kind of person could do that. But through the years I’ve come to understand your work and how important it is to society. But this animal, Steve, this animal doesn’t deserve to live.” He stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, “Moll, you’re tired. I know this has come as a shock, but you’re asking for vigilante justice, and I can’t and won’t do that. We will investigate this case, and we will find and arrest this perp.”

  She was quiet for a moment and then whispered “What about The Eagle?” Steve moved around the table and sat down in front of her. “What do you know of The Eagle?” “I know that he kills killers. I know that he makes them suffer the way they made their victims suffer.” “You read the article on Roskowski, didn’t you?” She nodded, “I’ve been following The Eagle in the papers for a few years. I know you’re trying to stop him, but if you ask me he’s just doing what needs to be done. He only kills serial killers; you said that yourself in conversations we’ve had.” He shook his head slowly, “That’s not all together true. He killed Jill Makin and Barry Mullin, and they weren’t serial killers.” “If he killed them, he had to have a reason.” “Well they weren’t killers, Moll; they were law enforcement. My guess is that one or the other of them was getting too close to him, so he killed them before they could expose or capture him.” “Well, I don’t know all of the details about The Eagle, that’s your department. I just hope that he finds Janet’s killer before you do!” He couldn’t believe his ears. His sweet, loving wife wanted an eye for an eye and wanted it without a judge or jury. “Molly, the only thing that separates us from them is the rule of law. We have a constitution, even the guilty have rights. Innocent until proven guilty, Moll.” She stood and looked down at Steve, “Oh give me a fuckin’ break. You know, and I’ve heard you say it a thousand times, guilty until proven innocent. You have also said more times than I can count that our court system is broken, that these people in prison live better than we do. They don’t have to worry about healthcare, holding down a job, food, clothing. They have it made in prison. Hell, Steve, you even said that the lifers in their cell’s twenty-three hours a day have a problem free life.” “I get angry, Moll. I say things that I don’t mean. How could life in a cage twenty-three hours a day be better than a life in the real world? Come on. When I say those things I’m just blowing off steam. I took an oath, Moll, and I have to stand by it.” “Even if it means that the bad guys go free, or they live a life of comfort at our expense?” He started for the living room, “Ultimately, yes. Unfortunately, the answer is yes.”

  When he entered the living room, Gail was sitting on the couch in a bathrobe that was half opened revealing her bare breasts. She was sipping a glass of wine. “Bob sends his regards and condolences, Steve.” “Thanks.” “Molly is pretty shook up over her friend’s death.” He nodded. “She wants the killer killed not captured.” “I know. We just had this conversation.” Steve sat down on the loveseat adjacent to her, and she moved over to sit next to him. He didn’t see Molly standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, but she was within ear shot. Gail refilled her wine glass and offered him one, but he refused. He could tell
that she wasn’t drunk by a long shot. “I want you to think about something, Steve. What if, instead of Janet, it had been me or Molly? Would you still think that upholding the constitution and the rule of law was so damned important?” She took a sip of her wine while she waited for the answer. She could see Molly out of the corner of her eye standing in the doorway. He didn’t respond.

  “Steve, Bob has been a New York cop for ten years. When we met, I didn’t know what being a cop’s wife was all about. When we got married, I learned very fast. The first year I mourned him. I knew that every time he walked out that door there was a better than average chance he wouldn’t come back through it again. I cringed when the phone rang, and I feared everything. On our first wedding anniversary, Bob gave me a pin. It was an NYPD shield with his badge number and a second number below that. I asked him about the unknown number, and he told me it was mine, that I was part of the precinct family. That the family takes care of its own. He told me to wear it at all times, that way if I was in trouble or if fellow officers saw me on the street they’d know who I was. To be honest I didn’t understand the whole concept at the time. I smiled and thanked him, but I was a little pissed off; I wanted flowers and jewelry, not a shield.

  “I didn’t wear it after he gave it to me. He often told me to put it on, but I didn’t listen. One night, five years ago, I was walking home from work. It was raining, and I couldn’t catch a cab. I was able to get the bus and took it to our street in the Bronx. There were two beat officers on the bus with me, but I didn’t greet them, and since I wasn’t wearing my pin I was just another pretty face in the crowd. I also wasn’t paying any attention to other people around me; I didn’t see the two guys watching me from the back of the bus. When the bus stopped I got off…and for six and a half hours so did they…on me!” Steve’s face dropped in shock, “I didn’t know. I never heard about this. Does Molly know?” Molly walked into the living room, “I know.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Bob called me and told me about what had happened and asked me not to tell you.” “But why? I could have sent resources. I could have helped.” Gail shook her head, “No, Steve, you couldn’t have helped. I was in the hospital for nearly two months. I was able to give enough of a description of the two guys that Bob and his detectives were able to find them. One night, Bob and two of his detectives came to see me in the hospital. They had a mug shot book, and they showed me photographs of dozens of perps. Molly was there. She flew out the second Bob called.” Steve looked over at Molly who nodded in agreement.

  “I saw the faces of the two men in the book and asked if Bob knew where they were. He told me not to worry about it; they would take care of it. I got out of the hospital a week later. When I got home, amongst the flowers and well wishes, there was a copy of the New York Times on the kitchen table laid out with a front page story, and on the paper was my pin. The news article was about the brutal killing of two men whose bodies were found floating in the Hudson River. The headline read, ‘Hudson River Killer Strikes AGAIN!’ I read the article, and it turned out that the two guys that were found mutilated in the Hudson were the same two guys that raped me. The paper had printed their confession which was found by police when they searched their apartment after their bodies were found. In their confession, I learned the depth of their depravity and how very fortunate I was to be alive. Those two men had raped and killed ten women over two years. I was not only their last victim, I was the only survivor.” Steve looked down at the floor, “Our Patterson, New Jersey field office has been working to find that killer for nearly ten years.” Gail got up and poured Molly a glass of wine, and the two sat together on the sofa adjacent to Steve.

  Gail continued, “I never asked Bob anything about the article or the two men. From that day forward, I made sure that I had that pin on every outfit that I wore and that it was prominently displayed.” Steve looked over at the two women sitting side by side on the couch. “So the Hudson River Killer is Bob?” She shook her head, “No, the Hudson River Killer is the NYPD’s way of eliminating the dregs of society. It’s a team of cops that are a subset of the formal detective unit, think of it as a police force within a police force. They hunt down and kill the worst of the killers. Then they dispose of the bodies the same way every time, and it looks like the work of a single serial killer.” “So this wasn’t just vengeance for you?” “No,” she said softly, “it was personal though. They caught the two men and extracted the confessions then turned them over to Bob. He took care of the killing.” “And you think this is okay?” “Yes!”

  Molly sat looking at Steve and then asked, “So what are you going to do, Steve? Call your Patterson office and tell them that the killer is a badge or a multitude of badges?” He didn’t know what to say. He just sat there looking at the two women. “If someone hurt Molly, I don’t know what I would do.” Molly took a sip of her wine, “I know you better than you know yourself, and I know exactly what you would do.” “Really?” “Yes…really! You would avenge me. You would do to the person or persons whatever they did to me only a hundred times worse.” He looked at the grandfather clock in the corner; it was half past midnight. “I love you, Molly. I know the evil that is in the world, but I don’t know if I could kill another human being out of revenge. In the line of duty, absolutely, but in private, as a vigilante…let’s hope I never have to find out.” He looked over at Gail and asked, “How did you get over it…the violence, the violation that you endured?” She smiled, “Bob and his friends brought the video home to me, and I got to watch retribution.” “And that made it okay with you?” “It gave me closure… between seeing those men suffer and die in the most brutal way possible, and having close friends like Molly and others to lean on, it made it easier for me to let it go.” He shook his head, “Well, I have to tell you, Gail, you have had a remarkable recovery. I would never have guessed in a million years that you went through the trauma that you did. It breaks the rules of every profile and of every psychological rule about survivors of violent crimes that I was trained in.”

  She smiled and stood up, “Seeing the person that you love and who loves you extracting vengeance on your behalf is very, very therapeutic. Molly, I know that you’re hurting. I’m going to be in town until Saturday, and since it’s only Tuesday, if it’s alright with you and Steve, I want to spend the rest of my stay in your bed with you.” Molly didn’t flinch, “I would like nothing more.” Steve sat on the loveseat looking at the two women then asked, “Is that an invitation for me to join you both in our bed for the rest of your stay?” Gail smiled and took off her robe and dropped it on the couch as she walked toward the stairs leading up to the bedroom. Molly followed behind her. “If I have learned anything from my experience, it’s to enjoy life to the fullest. If it’s okay with Molly, I want to be as physical with the two of you for the rest of my trip as I can be. Molly nodded in agreement and waved for Steve to come to bed.

  His head was swimming at three a.m. when the three had finished making love. He was lying between the two sleeping woman who each had their arms resting on his chest. He thought about the conversations and the confessions, and he had no idea how to reconcile any of it. He had been let in on a secret, a very dark secret, one that would not allow sleep to come as he lay in the darkness listening to the soft breath of the women he loved.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘He couldn’t remember the full

  content of the nightmare he had

  been pulled awake from, but The

  Eagle was in it. His dark silhouette

  in the alley was all he remembered

  from the dream. He noticed right

  away that he was alone.’

  Jim arrived at Barbara’s just after midnight. He parked in the driveway. The front porch light was on, as well as a light in the living room window. He and Barbara had been married for fifteen years before Jim was shot while on duty serving a warrant. When he came home after the shooting, he was different, and the relationship
between them was, too. They met in the academy while preparing to become U.S. Marshals. It was one of those cliché love at first sight things. They finished their training and both went to work for the Marshal’s office. Jim was a field agent tracking down bail jumpers and escapees, working his way up to Supervising Marshal, and Barbara worked in the federal prison system attending to inmates, transporting them to and from court, and working the holding units at central detention.

  For the first ten years of their marriage, they worked odd shifts, so one was coming home when the other was going to work. They only had time for quick sex and perhaps breakfast or dinner together before heading off. After Jim’s shooting, he was forced to retire, and for nearly a year he was home. Barbara was still working full-time, though she did take six weeks off to help Jim acclimate to being home. However, resentment began to build between the two of them as Jim was disabled and Barbara was being promoted through the ranks until she became a field supervisor, the position Jim had when he was shot. As their twentieth anniversary loomed, they knew things weren’t going to work, but they didn’t give up hope. Jim was eventually able to get on with the Sheriff’s Department. That first year was reminiscent of the early years of the marriage. Two staggered schedules, two ships passing in the morning or night. The sex was less frequent, but they got along a lot better. It was short lived, though. Jim was promoted to the head of homicide, which meant he was spending less and less time at home, and Barbara’s schedule became more fixed, which freed up her evenings and weekends.

  Barbara filed for divorce a week before their twentieth wedding anniversary. Jim wasn’t surprised by the filing; he just wished she would have warned him. Instead, he was ambushed by two of his deputies who thought it would be funny to serve the summons on him in a staff meeting. The idiots as he referred to them now, assholes then, thought it was some civil litigation that was related to department business. They didn’t bother to look at the pleading, so when they grandstanded at the staff meeting and served him, he was taken totally by surprise. He could laugh about it now; the two rookie detectives might be able to laugh about it now, but they weren’t laughing when he busted them down to patrol duty for a year.