Prey - Debt Collector 6 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  Though Banning was high up the ladder of those to rub shoulders with, his greed for wealth was only limited by those he couldn’t convince to join the Bohemian Grove club. And being as not everyone who was invited had money, the associations he sought out each year were with those in a place of position within the financial world.

  That’s what had led William to meet with him, to mingle, drink and eat well and listen to his outlandish ideas around the fire. At first William believed that he simply wanted a list of clientele who used the credit union and held a substantial amount of money, but he soon realized that he wanted him to invite them out. Of course it would cost them nothing, as it had initially cost William nothing to attend. That was how they lured him in and gave him a taste of what he was missing out on. For him it was merely the attraction of rubbing shoulders with the wealthy but for others it could be much more. A chance to create partnerships with those capable of smuggling in large amounts of narcotics into the country, a chance to rise on the political ladder and for others, a chance to dabble in sexual activities that were frowned upon by society.

  What those activities were he could only imagine. At that point in his life, William was not married, though he had been through numerous relationships with women. When Banning invited him one evening to join him and a group of friends for a private party in the forest, he didn’t think anything of it. It was common after the first night of the club’s annual encampment to find businessmen inviting each other to campfires near their group of tents to discuss matters of business; however, that evening would open his eyes to the underbelly of a world that operated all over the United States.

  Like many of the campsites, tents were grouped together, some were large and unless you were invited they were off-limits to anyone walking the trails. Security had caught many a journalist who had snuck in to report on what was really going on. Often the focus was on the opening ceremony, which was performed at night in front of members. The ceremony involved a boat crossing the manmade lake over to a forty-foot shrine of an owl. There, a high priest surrounded by dark hooded figures would take a human effigy and place it on an altar. After, it would be set on fire. Of course reports on this ceremony fed into the conspiracy mindset that real human sacrifices were being performed at this event. But it was far from true. The real darkness lay inside the hearts of those who came together at different campsites. It was born in the deals that were made, the arrangements that would shock the nation if known.

  That evening William was taken to a large tent, and witnessed all manner of men engaging in sex with male prostitutes. Though it caught him off guard, he realized there was a cost to mixing with those who could get him where he wanted to be in life. If it meant nodding his head, smiling politely and agreeing with what they said, he was more than prepared to do that.

  At that time they never talked about the network that operated an underage prostitute ring. All those he saw inside that tent performing lewd acts were legal age, at least from what he could tell.

  Looking back now, he knew that night was his initiation. They wanted to gauge his reaction, determine his loyalty and test his commitment. Though sex was offered to him, he declined. Twenty-one years later, even though he had committed acts of murder, and seen all manner of perversion done by high officials, he had never engaged in it himself. That was one line he remained behind. He never got married or had kids, the very thought that he would have been able to lead a normal life was madness. His work consumed him, and what little morality he had left.

  Now that he had obtained more money than he could want, it was beginning to seem shallow. He’d considered leaving it behind him and spending the remainder of his years leading a life free of the constant worry of the feds breaking down his door but he knew that walking away from it all would never happen.

  On nights when he had drunk too much he had considered taking his own life. It wasn’t uncommon in their line of work. Those who had fucked up in Oregon knew that all too well. Death was the only way a person got out. Some preferred to make sure that if it was going to happen, that it was done on their terms.

  William glanced at photos in front of him on the screen. They were new meat for the network. It never ended. He spent his days gathering photos, and catering to the needs of the depraved.

  He had dealt with the darkest parts of human nature for so long that he could no longer discern what was right or wrong, and any sign that he was wavering in his commitment to the role he played would not go unnoticed.

  William pulled out a drawer on his desk and glanced at the revolver. One bullet sat beside it, only he knew why it was there.

  There were days he regretted accepting that invitation to Bohemian Grove. Perhaps if he had turned it down he would have been happily married, with kids of his own and a life free from the trappings that came with his affiliation.

  William picked up the phone and pushed the thoughts from his mind. He needed to focus, clear up this mess and ensure that the FBI believed that these disappearances and murders were nothing more than the work of a local sicko.

  He leaned back and waited for the police chief of Albany to answer.

  “Hello Karl.”

  He could tell he was nervous. “I told you not to call here.”

  “You told me?”

  He tried to backtrack. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure right now and this has spiraled out of control.” He raised his voice.

  “Are you yelling at me?”

  “I’m just…”

  “It’s time you do your job, Karl. Let’s not forget that it can all go away tomorrow and you can find yourself sharing a cell with men you have put away. Do I make myself clear?”

  “I did what you said. I avoided the FBI, but that bitch of a mother called them. I managed to hold them at bay but now they are all over the place. I don’t know how. I even got in contact with Mrs. Carson to see if she had phoned them. She said she hadn’t spoken to the FBI for over a month, so I have no idea. All I know is they are set up in my department and are looking over everything. This is going to be dragged out. I can’t guarantee that I’m going to be able to clean this up.”

  William paused before he spoke again. He understood the predicament that the chief was in. He had dealt with all manner of police officials who were a part of the network and saw to it that evidence disappeared and cases went cold but that didn’t change things.

  As Karl continued to rattle on about what was being done, and how he was trying to reel it in and take control, William brought up on his computer a video of Karl engaged in an act of depravity with one of his underage prostitutes.

  “You know how quickly I can send this video out to your department, and the feds.”

  “You wouldn’t dare?”

  William leaned forward in his chair. It wasn’t the first time that he had been pushed into a corner and been faced with people changing their mind about their involvement. A year ago, he had seen to it that a large media network received a video of a pastor and three boys. The last he heard that pastor was murdered while inside jail. He had only done three months into a life sentence.

  Karl knew this. It was made very clear back when his desires for advancement and his taste for the young had meant turning a blind eye when it was required.

  “Don’t even think about trying to work your way out of this. With one click, your life is over.”

  That was the power he and many others like him had over police, lawyers, teachers, doctors, politicians and even presidential candidates. It wasn’t just about ruining their reputation, or bringing shame down upon them. They all knew that with one click of a button, William could obliterate their entire life. It could drive them to commit suicide, cause them to become the target of small-town vigilante justice, or push them into a very public trial that would destroy their families’ lives.

  It was the reason why they had managed to fly under the radar for so many years. People didn’t talk because they were the puppets and peop
le like William held the strings. Men like Chief Karl Weldon were nothing more than expendable pawns in a game that would continue to be played until the end of time.

  Sure, there were times when the feds would win a match, but the game was never truly over. Safety measures had been put in place to see the continuation of what Charles Banning had established. It was a beast that was always hungry.

  Banning knew that and now so did William. His mind drifted to Billy, and the look on his face when he forced him to slit that young boy’s neck. Shock, horror, disbelief, these were just a few of the emotions they took them through in order to control them.

  And that was it. It was all about who was in control.

  “I will do my best.”

  “You better do more than that,” William said before he hung up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jack let out a gasp, as the world came spinning into view. He had no idea where he was or how he had got there. His memory was a blur. The freezing cold water lapping up against his body was what had snapped him back to consciousness. A cold shiver crept over his body as he tried to gain some semblance of order.

  His heart was racing and he felt like he was having a panic attack.

  His hands trembled as he gripped at the soil in an attempt to haul himself up. As he tried, pain coursed through him forcing him back down. Several of his fingernails were gone. Where am I? He noticed his arms were bare and his chest felt wet.

  The air tasted like iron, raw and rusty. He could hear an onboard motor churning away in the distance. He needed to get up but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t. He turned and cast a glance over his back and saw that the only thing he was wearing was jeans. His boots and socks were gone and he was half laying in water. His side ached as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and broken a rib.

  The sound of the motor got closer but he still couldn’t see it. All around him were long reeds and tall grass. A minute or two passed. He wasn’t sure if he passed out again but when he came to, he could hear someone shouting.

  “You okay, mister?”

  The rest played out in fragments: The noise of a motor getting closer, someone shouting and light stabbing his blood-caked eyes.

  “Grandfather, call an ambulance.”

  He felt soft hands touch his body and he had a knee-jerk reaction.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Jenna, move out of the way.”

  He now felt a rough hand push back hair from his face.

  “You look like you’ve been to hell and back. Can you hear me?”

  The man’s voice echoed and disappeared.

  “Just wait here, it won’t be long now.”

  He wasn’t sure what he was referring to — help or death? Were they angels or devils? Jack’s mind replayed the last few years in a matter of minutes, and yet it seemed as though he had relived it all. He muttered and the figure beside him got close. “What’s that?”

  “Isabel.”

  “Isabel?”

  The next snapshot he had was looking up at fluorescent lights. He was moving fast. The sound of doctors shouting medical terms and then it went black again.

  When he came to, he wasn’t sure how long he had been unconscious. Gone was the feeling of being wet, and the pain had subsided. His eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. Light flooded his eyes and then his view widened out. He took in his surroundings. A flat-screen TV on the wall, curtain drapes open and a bathroom off to the side. The equipment beside him drummed out a steady beat. He groaned. His tongue was dry. He tried to sit up but that only caused the equipment beside him to start beeping faster. Attached to his arm was an IV. On the end of his finger was something that looked like a blue peg. He reached over and yanked it off and the machine let out one continual beep. Seconds later, a nurse came barreling into the room.

  “You need to sit back.”

  She forced him gently back onto the pillow and placed the clip back on his finger. She made a few adjustments to the machine by pressing some buttons and then she checked him over.

  “Where am I?”

  “Humboldt General Hospital.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “A couple of days.”

  “Can I get some water?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  He remained in a dazed and slightly drug-induced state even as she returned and brought water to his lips. It soothed his parched throat and felt like heaven for a second until a disturbing memory flashed across his mind of struggling to breathe. A cloth, water and the realization that they were waterboarding him. He could feel the pain of slowly suffocating. Instinctively, Jack knocked the plastic beaker out of the nurse’s hand and it clattered on the floor.

  “Now what did you do that for?”

  It was coming back to him, at least the torture was. He looked down at his hands and noticed that several of his fingernails had been torn off. The nurse placed the cup back on the side table and went to find an orderly to clean up the mess. Ten minutes later a doctor entered with his hands in his white jacket. He had a stethoscope around his neck and before he looked at Jack, he picked up a clipboard at the end of his bed and glanced at it.

  “You were lucky they spotted you.”

  “Who?”

  He glanced up. “A couple of people who were fishing nearby.” He came around the side of the bed and flashed a light into his eyes and then checked his pulse.

  “So what were you doing out there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you didn’t appear to be drinking because there was no alcohol in you, but there was a good amount of drugs. You nearly had an overdose. Do you know that?”

  “Overdose?”

  The doctor turned over his arm and showed him the needle marks.

  “You don’t recall shooting up?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s kind of typical. Though for the amount of heroin that was in your system, you were lucky your heart didn’t stop. You’re either one hell of a fighter or you have an angel on your shoulder.” He paused. “Anyway we have given you some Naloxone to reverse the overdose of heroin and counter the effects. Right now you need to get some rest and rehydrate. Don’t take that IV out. If you need anything, just ask the nurse.”

  “Do you have a phone?”

  “If you want us to get in contact with anyone, we can do that. Are you from Nevada? You didn’t have any ID on you.”

  “No.”

  “So family or friends?”

  “I need to make a call.”

  “You can’t use a cellphone in here. Get some rest and if you are up to it later, the nurse will take you out to where you can make a call or like I said, we can do it for you.”

  He stood there for a moment to see if Jack was going to make a decision. He didn’t want them calling. It could raise too many questions if they got through to the wrong person. He wanted to speak to her himself.

  “Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it. Whatever happened, I want you to know this path you are heading down generally only leads to one end. Take this opportunity as a warning, a gift even and stay away from the drugs.”

  Jack gave a nod and thanked him for his pep talk. The reality was it was a wake-up call. As tough as any man thought he was, there would always come a day when his luck ran out. Real life meant mistakes being made and he dashed into that wrecker’s yard with little regard or information on what he was up against. He only had himself to blame.

  The reality was, he could have died.

  These men weren’t playing around, he had kicked over a hornet’s nest and they were reacting like anyone would in their shoes. What had he been thinking?

  Before the nurse left she placed the remote beside him, and then turned to leave.

  “How long do you think I need to be in here, and why can’t I feel much of anything?”

  “You were pretty banged up, and that’s the morphine.”

  She went i
nto the bathroom and returned with a handheld mirror and handed it to him before leaving. Jack brought it up to his face to assess the damage. They had fucked him up badly. His left and right eyes were swollen, his lip was split, and two of his teeth were gone. Besides that, the skin on his chest had been torn up severely. These weren’t just grazes but almost like they had sliced a deep layer of skin in places.

  He put the mirror on the side table and picked up the remote and started channel surfing. He flicked over some mid-afternoon soaps and trash-talking chat shows and settled on the news. He left it playing in the background at a low volume and pulled back the covers to head to the bathroom. That’s when he saw the damage they had done to his legs. They must have taken a knife and slashed him multiple times. Each cut wasn’t deep but it was deep enough that the memory of the pain came rushing back to him. It was as if part of his mind had splintered off and blocked out the horror of what he’d been through.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been beaten. Life in the Mafia had made him cross paths with some of the worst of society. In their world there was no mercy. He recalled a time in Jersey when he was taken by the head of a crime family whose two sons had died at the hands of Jack. They owed Gafino money and despite multiple people telling Gafino not to order the hit, he did it anyway. Jack kind of figured there would be some retaliation, he just didn’t see it coming. They had waited until Gafino was out of town before they had four of his men bring him in. Of course he didn’t go without a fight but they didn’t expect him to go easy. One of them tazed him and the rest was history.

  The mistake they made was they didn’t check him over. With the number of police that were busting the Mafia back in those days on any charge they could, he had got in the habit of keeping a piece of flat steel that could open handcuff locks. When it was jammed in between the teeth, it didn’t take long to get out and the rest was just timing.

  He took out the father, after that no one came after him. Those deaths were the only ones he truly regretted. They should have never happened but mob life was brutal and rising through the ranks didn’t come without a fair amount of bloodshed.