Suicide Hotline (The One Percent Book 2)

by Tim Miller

  “I don’t know. Maybe three or four hundred people.”

  “Imagine if you killed even fifty to a hundred of them and wounded even more. It would go down in history. One of our former clients had laws changed in his state as a result of our actions.”

  “But what happens to me?”

  “One of our operators, before authorities arrive, will painlessly take your life. In most cases they don’t even see it coming.”

  “I don’t want to die.”

  “Well if we do this, the alternative is prison. Not to mention we just can’t leave any loose ends. Can’t have you testifying about who helped you. Not that anyone would believe you anyway. Our men are highly skilled professionals. They go in and out without being seen. We haven’t existed for this long because we’re careless.”

  “Do I get to actually shoot anyone?”

  “No. You’ll go in with a weapon that won’t be loaded. Our operators do all the shooting both for proficiency and their own safety.”

  “But I want to kill my boss. I want to pull the trigger.”

  “Perhaps we can arrange something. You’ll get to watch for sure.”

  “I don’t know,” Johnny said. His depression had gotten much worse over the past several months. There’d been many nights as he got drunk where he’d wished he’d pass out and never wake up. This would be one way to go out with a bang. He’d often fantasized about killing Roger. Usually it was by beating him to a bloody pulp or stabbing him repeatedly. Though watching his brains get blown out would bring a certain level of satisfaction.

  “All right. Fuck it. When can we do it?”

  “We’ll be in touch. Trust me, you’ll know.”

  Mr. Black reached up and shook Johnny’s hand and climbed out of the car. Johnny watched him walk away and sat there wondering exactly what he’d just agreed to.

  It was only two days later as he was leaving for work when a black SUV pulled into his driveway. He was expecting Mr. Black, but instead it was a man in black military gear wearing a black ski mask.

  “Johnny. Get in. It’s time.”

  Johnny looked around and climbed into the back of the SUV. The other men in the back were dressed like the first one. None of them spoke as they drove to his place of employment. One of them handed him a rifle.

  “Hold onto this, sport. When we get there, you’ll go in with us. We’ll do the shooting. Your rifle isn’t loaded. When the time comes, we’ll take you out, but it won’t hurt. Don’t worry.”

  “What about my boss? Roger? Mr. Black said you could work something out about me being the one to kill him.”

  They all looked at each other as if it was news to them.

  “What does he look like?” the man asked.

  “Wears a work shirt that says Roger. He’s in his thirties and short with a rat face.”

  The other men laughed at his description.

  “All right. I’ll see what we can do, sport. We’re almost there. You ready?”

  The SUV pulled up in front of the firm as the men poured out. One of them grabbed him and pushed Johnny out ahead of himself. He ran inside with the mercenaries as he watched them open fire in the lobby. There were three women he didn’t know standing just inside the door. Their heads exploded as bullets ripped through their skulls.

  A man a few feet away bent over and threw up right before bullets cut him in half. The operators were fast, accurate and deadly. Johnny was in awe of how efficiently they moved and killed. It was almost like playing Call of Duty, except with real blood.

  They shot several more people in the main hall before racing up the stairwell. On the next floor there was a crowd of people running toward the back as soon as they came through the door. The mercenaries opened fire, taking several of them down. One of the armed security guards opened fire but missed. An operator turned and shot him in the chest, knocking him flat onto his back. Johnny walked by, watching blood bubble from the hole in his chest.

  He saw Roger up ahead running toward one of the offices.

  “That’s him! That’s my boss!”

  Before the operators could reply, Johnny took off toward him. He caught up just as Roger had gotten into a closet and tried to slam the door shut. Johnny stuck the barrel of the rifle into the crack, keeping it from closing. He pushed it open as Roger held his hands up over his face.

  “Why are you doing this? Please don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”

  “You motherfucker! You made me do this! Everyone here is gonna die because of you.”

  “Please! No! I’m sorry! I can’t help it. I have anger issues. I’m seeing a therapist.”

  Johnny took the butt of the rifle and smashed him in the face. His head bounced off the back of the closet as the synthetic stock crunched his nose. Streams of red ran down Roger’s face and chin. Johnny reared back and smashed him in the face again, and again. Over and over he pounded the stock into his boss’s face. Each time yelling.

  “Fuck. You. Worthless. Piece. Of shit. Asshole. Cocksucker!”

  Soon, Roger’s face was a mulched up mess of bloody bone and pulp. One of the operators arrived and looked at the mess.

  “Damn, sport. You weren’t kidding. Nice work.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gunshots and screaming still rang out all around them. Johnny wondered how many they’d killed so far. Killing Roger was the most fulfilling thing he’d done in recent memory. The operator looked at his watch, then up at Johnny.

  “All right, sport. I’m afraid its time.” He pressed the gun against Johnny’s chin. Since they’d arrived he’d almost forgot he would be killed at the end of all this. It had only been a few minutes since they arrived. He instantly went from exhilarated to terrified. He felt warm liquid running down his leg as he lost control of his bladder. Feeling the barrel of the gun against his brought home just how real this was. And final.

  “Wait. I want to join you guys. Can’t I be one of you?”

  “Sorry, sport,” the man said. “That’s not how this works.” Then he pulled the trigger.

  4.

  Al McNeal

  Elkhart, Indiana

  Mayor Al McNeal stood at the podium just outside city hall downplaying what could be the biggest scandal of his career. In almost thirty years of city and county government he was at risk of it all coming to an abrupt and ugly end.

  “I will release my financial records and will fully cooperate with the Attorney General’s investigation. These allegations are false and politically motivated. I will prove beyond any doubt that there has been no wrongdoing on my part or anyone in my administration.” His wife, Doris, stood behind him with a forced smile. He tried to physically hold beads of sweat into his forehead, but they ran down anyway. Once he finished, the press began asking questions. Some were literally jumping up and down. God they were such animals.

  “Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! Is it true you received over a hundred thousand dollars from Bank Corp. in exchange for letting them build on an environmentally protected area?” Lisa McMahon with the local NBC affiliate asked.

  Time to kick the charm into high gear.

  “Hi Lisa,” he said with a smile. “No. That is not true at all. Bank Corp filed for all the proper permits and their building was approved independent of my office. Believe me, I wouldn’t know the first thing about approving floor plans!” Several members of the press laughed as he pointed to the next reporter.

  “Mr. Mayor. Hi. John Douglas with the Elkhart Times. You said this investigation is politically motivated? Motivated by whom and what kind of outcome do you think they are seeking?”

  “I have lots of enemies John. You know that. Hell, could be your boss for all I know. He’s been out to get me for years! Seriously though, no telling who. And the motive is obvious, to distract myself and this city from the real issues we face every day. I just began my initiative for merging our high schools into a state of the art facility. We just got those funds allocated, and now this comes along. You tell me, which is more importa
nt? The future of our children? Or who gave me money for a building? Thank you, everyone!” He smiled and waved as he turned and took Doris’ hand and headed back into City Hall.

  Reporters called out more questions, but he ignored them and kept going inside. Dale Hahn, his chief of staff walked alongside him and leaned to whisper something.

  “That was good. You can’t keep bullshitting this. Were you serious about releasing your bank records?”

  “Hell no. Just had to give them something. We’ll deal with it later.”

  Dale stepped away as they walked inside and took the elevator to his office. Once in the office he closed the door and locked it. The smile faded from Doris’ face.

  “I don’t know how you do it. Stand there smiling while lying through your teeth.”

  “I’ve been doing it for thirty years. I’ve gotten good at it.”

  “I’d say so.” She picked up the paper on his desk. The scandal was the headline.

  Mayor McNeal Took Millions in Exchange for Tax Breaks

  The article went on to say how several banks and large companies gave him money under the table to push their requests through to build in the city. Many in town thought it would create more jobs, but these places brought their own staffs with them. Bank Corp was built in what used to be a city park and where some endangered birds were living. Al wasn’t too concerned about some rare birds and didn’t think anyone else would be. Turns out he couldn’t have been more wrong. Local environmental groups totally lost their shit. Once that happened some reporters began digging. Upon digging they found out he denied a non-profit children’s hospital and instead approved a brokerage firm.

  Sure these things were true, but it wasn’t as bad as the papers were making it sound. Not to mention these things may sound bad on the surface, but it was also very complicated. The general public could never understand such things. Now these same vultures who ate up his every word as if it were gospel during his first four years in office were now coming after him trying to pluck the flesh from his very bones. His term would be up in another year and he was gearing up for a run for the House of Representatives. His first national office. No way would he let them fuck this up for him.

  “So what is your plan?” she asked.

  “Fortunately for me, most of the money I got from the building deals I put offshore. I have a few shell bank accounts here. I use them for travel and slush funds. So I’ll start releasing some of those bit by bit. Then I’ll delay things. Say I can’t get ahold of them.”

  “You really going to talk to the Attorney General?”

  “Absolutely not. If anyone asks why I haven’t yet, I’ll just say I didn’t say when I’d talk to them. Just that I planned to fully cooperate. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

  “No, but it’s by far your biggest bull. How much longer can you hang on?”

  “Just long enough to ride it into Washington. Get out of this fucking shithole town.”

  Elkhart had a population of close to one-hundred thousand people. For decades they were the RV manufacturing capital of the world. Then the crash of 2008 hit. They became the poster children for the recession and even got a couple visits from a sitting president. Not that any of those things helped. Al was elected in 2010 with the promises of a better tomorrow. That was even his campaign slogan.

  Things were way better in this town now, than when he took over. Yet now all people can think to do is look to dig up dirt on the very man who rescued them. But he had no doubt one of his enemies had set this whole thing up. Rumor had it the Attorney General himself, Charles Procter, was considering a run for the same congressional seat or for governor. So he could either take out his biggest competition, or get a busted elected official under his belt to run for governor and declare he’ll clean up corruption.

  Al had no doubt that Procter was just as corrupt as the next guy. They were politicians. This is how things are done. Anyone who thinks when our forefathers drafted the constitution that there wasn’t back room deals and money changing hands is naïve at best, or just plain stupid. People were sheep. Sheep need a shepherd; men like him. He was the one who kept the wolves away. If they thought he was bad, they had no idea.

  “Let’s get out of here. I need to get some rest,” he said. He got on his intercom and called up to his assistant. “Elaine. Have Dale bring my car around the back please.”

  They got on the elevator and moments later were in the back seat of the Lincoln Town Car. As Dale drove them home, Doris never looked up from her phone.

  “Something interesting going on?” Al asked.

  “Not particularly. After all this drama I thought I’d look at cat pictures.”

  Except Al noticed she was typing frantically into her keyboard. He had no idea who she was talking to and didn’t particularly care. They arrived at home and Doris headed inside. Al stayed outside for a bit, walking around the house. He took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a few drags. He’d stopped smoking years ago, but occasionally the stress caught up with him. Doris had no idea he kept a few packs handy, but he didn’t really care. Their marriage at this point was more of a business arrangement than anything. He walked out to the gazebo in the back yard, sitting on the bench and watching the birds splash about the bird bath.

  Years ago he’d come out here to work or just get away from things. He wasn’t sure why he’d gotten away from it. It had just slipped his mind over time.

  “Excellent view, isn’t it,” a man said from behind him. He jumped up, startled, dropping his cigarette in the process.

  “What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Al said to the young man in a suit approaching.

  “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m Mr. Black.”

  “Who? How did you even get here? My home is gated.”

  “Oh I let myself in. I think we need to have a chat. I believe I can help you.”

  Let himself in?

  “Wait? What?”

  “You’re in a bit of trouble.”

  “Yes, I know. Nothing major. It’s all bullshit anyway. Who are you again?”

  “Mr. Black.”

  “Yes. You said that. But who the fuck is Mr. Black? Why shouldn’t I call the cops on you right now?”

  “Because I’m here to help you. You can keep pelting me with useless questions, or you can hear me out.”

  “How do I know you’re not from the Attorney General’s office? Or a reporter? Shit, those reporters are a slippery bunch. I caught one hiding in my trash bin the other day. Fucking nasty little bastard.”

  “I assure you. I’m not with the press or any government agency. I work for a private organization. We help people get out of various levels of trouble through some more…extreme measures.”

  “Extreme measures?” Al asked.

  “Do you wish to hear me out? Or do you still want to call the police on me? There is no need. Just say the word and I’ll leave you be. But I think you need to know exactly the trouble that is headed your way.”

  “What trouble? Yes, please spit it out. I’m tired of the mystery act.”

  Mr. Black reached into his jacket and pulled out a phone. He thumbed through the screen before walking over next to Al and showing him the screen. Immediately, Al felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

  “What the fuck? How did…why? Who…”

  “My organization has ways of seeing things no one wants to be seen. Not to mention people send us things all the time. This is the digital age, Mr. Mayor. Someone is always watching.”

  Al looked at the screen again. There it was. An image of him in bed with two young girls. Young as in one was seven years old, the other nine. He’d paid for time with them when he was last visiting Chicago. Chicago was just over two hours away from Elkhart. There was an underground club for men with “unique” sexual tastes like his. All of them were naked. One little girl was lying face down while he was having sex with her from behind. The other girl was looking on.

  Both had blank a
nd distant expressions on their faces. He remembered that night. It had been a lot of fun. His host had offered sedatives for the girls to keep them still. Al had refused. He liked it more when they squirmed.

  “Where did you get these? Who took these? This was at a private party.”

  “What did I say? Nothing is private. And this is going to be a big problem for you. In about two weeks, these pictures will be going public.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “It’s not me, Mr. Mayor. Remember, I’m here to help. But someone close to you has obtained these. Now I have them. When they go public, your life as you know it will be over. Forget the AG investigation, forget running for Congress. We’re talking prison. Long, long term in prison. I think based on that video alone, you are looking at fifty to sixty years. Not to mention pedophiles don’t do so hot in prison.”

  “I’m not a pedophile!”

  “So what do you call that?”

  “Nothing. I just…they’re just so soft, and cute. Ok? Plus they were having fun, even though in those pictures they look a little spooked.”

  “There’s a video too,” Mr. Black said.

  The color drained from Al’s face.

  “Yes, I think I have it here. You had a little mishap. Looked like one of the girls… you ripped her open. Lots of screaming, blood everywhere.”

  “No! No! That’s ok. Put it away. So what do you want? You want money? Is that it? How much to make this go away?”

  “It’s not going away, Mr. Mayor. I’m here to offer you a final solution. A way out, perhaps.”

  “How? Once that goes public, everyone will disown me. Doris will leave, I’ll be out. Like you said, in prison if I don’t get lynched first.”

  “Or you could get them first.”

  “Who?”

  “If you agree to our terms, your enemies will all be dead. You would be one of our VIP clients. We have special packages for folks like you. The only downside is, it all ends in your death.”

  “What?”

  “Your death. I work for a group; we have a team of operators. You may call them mercenaries. They will retrieve your enemies, in this case we are looking at the attorney general and any others you wish. Except as a VIP, you can have them killed in a variety of brutal ways of your choosing. For three days you can kill them one at a time, torture them, you name it. After 3 days, we kill you and dispose of their bodies.”