The Divine Devils: Mystery Suspense Crime Thriller: Book 1

by R Weir

  “Driver, can we turnaround and go back to the airport please,” she ordered. “I just saw someone I may know pass us on a motorcycle. If I’m correct I need to locate her.”

  The driver was surprised by the request, but knew the passenger was the boss. He did a quick U-turn when all was clear and drove back. Navigating the small airport like an expert, he soon found the lady on the bike. She was trolling for a close parking spot, soon finding one.

  “Stop right here,” demanded Athena, jumping out of the taxi before it had completely stopped, tossing her credit card at the driver. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Lady…what the hell!” yelled the driver. But it was too late, she was off and running.

  Athena ran, using the cars around her as cover. As she got closer, Valerie turned around, her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw Athena coming and started to dig into her backpack, but remembered she wasn’t carrying a weapon, since she wouldn’t be able to get it through security. She laughed out loud, Athena now standing about twenty feet away.

  “Damn what luck,” stated Valerie. “My prize comes to me. I thought I’d have to search the US to catch you. Yet here you are.”

  “I was about to claim I was the lucky one,” responded Athena. “Your decal gave you away.” She pointed at the pant leg. “Though I must say I’m surprised to see you here. I figured you’d be protecting your buddy, Reinbach.”

  “Gave me a mission, to kill you and the lady Marshal and bring Adin to him.”

  Athena grinned. “A mission you’ve already failed at—Val.”

  Valerie cringed. The failure quip was one thing, but the shorten use of her name was worse.

  “I don’t like being called Val.”

  “I apologize—I didn’t know that,” mocked Athena sarcastically. “I’m sure that makes you want to kill me even more. What do you say—Val. Shall we duke it out and see who the fighting queen is?”

  Glancing around with gritted teeth, Valerie saw an open field about two hundred feet away. She tossed the backpack over the handlebars of her bike and started walking towards the space. There was enough light over the area to see what they were doing. And it wouldn’t be in the middle of the parking lot where they’d be easily noticed.

  Athena followed, loosing up her arms during the walk and then stretching when she hit the dirt and grass. The ground was mostly dry, with litter in spots from careless people not knowing how to use a trash bin. She’d had formal fight training in her lifetime. Boxing and basic martial arts. Normally she’d be wearing gloves with her hands taped for protection. But today she was bare fisted, which would be a challenge, though not the first time she’d fought this way.

  Limbering up as well was Valerie, her hands covered with fingerless biker gloves. Showing an expression of joy of what was to come, believing she was too skilled to lose and could beat this woman easily. Her boxing and martial arts training were—excellent. She did a quick spin and leg whip, showing off. Followed by a standing kick, while holding her leg in the air, her boot covered foot as high as her head. She was making clear she was skilled.

  “Impressive,” remarked Athena with a scornful tone. “It would seem I’m overmatched and should give up now.”

  “I’m certain that isn’t going to happen,” grinned Valerie. “You have too much pride to concede, even if you have no chance to win.”

  “From what I’ve been told you’re skilled in hand to hand,” noted Athena. “I even learned you fight dirty.”

  “It would appear you’ve done your research. Whatever it takes to win has always been my moto.”

  “Mine as well!”

  Athena put her hands up, waving for Valerie to come towards her. She was feeling loose, ready for the challenge, confident in her own adroitness. Though she’d have her hands full with this one.

  Valerie grinned and made the first move. She threw a couple of jabs, both with her left hand, each one missing as Athena bobbed her head. A third punch and a right hook was thrown, getting blocked, followed with a left body punch which landed low on Athena’s side, though a glancing one.

  “You have quick hands,” stated Athena, while dancing on her toes, her hands up ready for more.

  “I’m only warming up,” replied Valerie.

  Coming at Athena a second time, Valerie jabbed three times, the third landing on the chin, her opponent not fast enough. Athena countered jabbing herself with a one, two, right, left combo, the second catching Valerie in the ear as she turned her head. She shook it off by doing a spinning kick that landed hard under Athena’s arm as she raised it to block. The leather boot doing damage staggering her balance for a second, which she shook off.

  “You’re out of your league lady,” mocked Valerie, her cockiness noticeable.

  Athena caught her breath, still dancing. “I have to admit you’re talented. Makes me wonder why someone as good as you would work for a thug like Reinbach.”

  “He pays well.”

  “And probably treats you like shit. Money isn’t the end all in life. Being treated with respect means more to me than mere dollars.”

  Valerie ignored the taunt, even if it was true. She tried another leg kick, which was blocked, Athena grabbing the leg by the shin and twisting the limb, flinging Valerie to the ground, where she rolled, getting back up quickly. Athena was on her, attacking with two body shots and a left jab to the chin, sending Valerie backward, on the defense.

  “A woman should never let a man treat her like crap,” expounded Athena, her adrenaline pumping. “Especially a youngster like Olivia was. What did he have planned for her to force Hunter to help him?”

  Valerie shook her head, clearing the cobwebs, feeling pain in her body from the two blows. She continued to move, her hands up, biding her time.

  “Whatever he planned, he didn’t share,” answered Valerie. “Though I’ve seen what he does to people and it isn’t pleasant.”

  “And would he have done the same to you since you failed to bring him Adin?”

  Valerie knew the truth of what would happen to her and Olivia. It pained her to know she couldn’t stand up to the man. Which wasn’t her style.

  “It doesn’t matter now, because I’m going to kill you and get back into his good graces.”

  “A shame,” replied Athena, continuing to dance on her toes. “I know you deserve better than that from a man like him. I guess you’re weaker than I thought—Val.”

  Rage filled Valerie’s eyes at the words. She wasn’t weak. And her name wasn’t Val. She lashed out with a series of punches. Numerous jabs and hooks, a couple getting through, bloodying her opponents’ nose and mouth. Athena countered with two jabs that struck, and a wild hook that missed. Valerie barely felt the blows, pounding away at Athena’s body and then stepped back for a monster sweeping leg kick, the blow to the side of her opponent knocking her to the dirt and grass. Valerie stood proud of the anger that fueled her strength, standing over her enemy, egging her to get up. Athena spit out blood, wiping it from her nose, her head ringing, as she used her arms to get up to her knees. Her pain was real, the realization it would take all her grit to match this woman’s skill.

  “Get the fuck up and let me finish you,” yelled Valerie, still dancing. “I’ll show you who is the weak one.”

  Athena rose from the grass and dirt, the glaze in her eyes fading, the blood still flowing. She wouldn’t stop until the battle was won. She would maintain the psychological war as well.

  “Weak is more than physical strength,” she stated, forcing her hands up in defense. “You’re a woman lacking courage. One who is strong of body, but weak in the mind. At least you must be to allow Reinbach to manipulate you like he does. I think a woman like you could wrap any man around her finger and get him to do what you want.”

  Valerie was about to charge again but stopped. She thought about the men in her life. The ones she controlled, like she did Kyle and Victor Quinnell. They hadn’t been the first. There had been many others. And yet she couldn’t
stand up to Reinbach, or Brushstroke as he wanted to be called these days. He’d even made it clear she would pay the price if she didn’t do his bidding after her failure in Salt Lake. She didn’t enjoy the vehemence of backing down to him. She was in control of her life and could make her own choices.

  Athena noticed the hesitation, wondering if she was getting through to the woman. She stepped in, throwing two punches to the body, both striking but not having a lot on them, as her arms were weary. She did three more to the face. Two were blocked, while one got through, with minor damage, her opponent shaking it off. Valerie countered with a flurry of her own, buckling Athena, her knees weakened. Valerie then stepped to the side, kicking downward with her boot into the side of Athena’s left knee. It gave way, the pop sound nearly as loud as Athena’s scream. She grabbed for the knee as she hit the ground, familiar pain in a leg that had been repaired years ago. Standing again would be a challenge. Being able to fight back effectively, coming to an end.

  “It’s over,” proclaimed Valerie, her arms down at her side. “How do you want to die? I can make it quick and painless or continue the brutal beating. The choice is yours.”

  Athena glanced at her knee, feeling it out of place. She rolled onto her butt, grabbing it, trying to pop it back straight. She was successful, though the pain put her through the roof, the tears in her eyes streaming. She rolled over and lifted herself on her good leg, standing, not able to put much weight on the injured one. She put up her hands, staring Valerie straight in the eye.

  “You can and probably will kill me,” she stated firmly. “But if so promise me that you’ll show courage and stand up to that motherfucker and kill him painfully.” She threw out her chest, standing proudly, ready for the end. “That is all I ask before I die at your hands.”

  Valerie glared at her opponent, not understanding how she could still be standing, wanting to fight. Blood all over her face, body bruised and knee severely damaged. Her will to continue when all was lost, impressive. She put down her hands, and nodded her head, the desire and rage to continue to fight this woman—vanishing.

  “You definitely aren’t weak,” Valerie stated firmly, a trickle of blood running out of her nose. “And neither am I.”

  Athena put down her exhausted arms. “No…you aren’t. Does this mean the fight is over and I get to live another day?”

  “Yes.” Valerie turned and started walking away. “There isn’t enough strong woman in this world. It would be a shame for there to be one less.”

  Athena nodded. “Agreed. What about that bastard, Reinbach? He deserves to die for what he’s done. A promise I made to those he’d hurt and threatened. Are you strong enough to take him out?”

  Valerie turned around. “Time will tell.” She reached her bike, put on her helmet and drove away.

  Athena slumped to the ground, pulling out her cellphone. She’d won the mental battle but would pay the price physically. She hoped it was worth it.

  Chapter 68

  Hunter picked himself up, his ears ringing from the explosion. He didn’t think it would be that big, but it surely did the trick. A message received that help was on the way.

  “Text says they see the fireball and are coming,” read Olivia from the iPhone. “Probably ten minutes.”

  “Tell them we’re in the smaller building and we’ll get it secured. They should take the others, especially the house and barn.”

  Olivia typed out the message, getting a thumbs up reply.

  “What is in here?” wondered Olivia, staring at a nearly empty space before them.

  “A place where people go to die,” Hunter replied. “I plan on putting a stop to it. Stay behind me and watch the rear just in case.”

  The room they were in was small. There was a couple of folding chairs and a waste basket. Nothing else. A waiting room of death it would seem. There was a dark, short narrow hallway, which lead to a metal door. Hunter approached it carefully, his eyes open for any trip wires or cameras. Before reaching for the door handle, he grabbed the knife from Olivia and tapped it, making sure it wasn’t wired. Knowing it was safe he turned the knob slowly, telling Olivia to stay low. He flung the door open, a large room with a tall ceiling presenting itself. The first thing you noticed was the smell, one that was unpleasant to say the least. It was a cross between burned meat and that of an outhouse. It was overwhelming, but he knew they needed to push on.

  His gun was pointed, ready to fire at the slightest movement, the room dimly lit, making it hard to see. Aiming the flashlight and turning it on, he proceeded forward, staying low, motioning for Olivia to wait by the cover of the doorway. Moving the beam around, an outline came into view. It was a chair near a wall, with someone in it, appearing lifeless. He found a table next to the chair, with instruments, most appearing to be tools like what a surgeon would use.

  On the wall he found a switch, flipping it on, an LED light coming on over the chair. The head was down, the smell even stronger now, enough to nearly make Hunter sick. Using the butt end of the flashlight under the chin, not wanting to touch the skin, he raised up the head. Though the face was beaten, bruised and bloody, he recognized it immediately. Isiah Sellers had been strapped to the chair and tortured.

  “Who is it?” asked Olivia, seeing the man from a distance.

  “It’s best you don’t look,” Hunter replied. “It will be shocking and gruesome for you to see.”

  Like a car accident scene, she couldn’t look away. She stepped in, an idea coming to her on who it could be. She recognized the face, her hand coming to her mouth, horror at what had happened. She ran to the corner and threw up, knowing it was the man who gave her life. A man she never could call father.

  Hunter walked over and put his hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to stop. She looked up, tears in her eyes, her stomach empty.

  “Why would they do that to him?” she asked, still in shock.

  “It could be they found out he helped us,” Hunter said in a serene tone. “This man, Brushstroke is evil. To the degree of evil I’ve rarely seen. He relishes studying people’s faces when they suffer, turning it into his twisted artwork.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I nearly barfed as well. No shame in losing it over what you saw. But we must clear this from our heads and soldier on. We aren’t out of the woods.”

  She shook her head, knowing it would be tough. But the time to feel sorrow would need to wait.

  “Oh God,” sounded a voice from the chair. It was barely recognizable. But it appears Sellers was still alive.

  Hunter and Olivia ran over and saw movement. Sellers head crept up slowly, taking all his strength, his eyes struggling to open. It took a minute to focus, when he saw the two faces. Ones that he hoped would stop his immense pain.

  “Why did they do this?” asked Olivia, feeling sorrow for the first time for the man who she had never known.

  “Tried to…get me…to talk.” His words were slurred, blood drooling from his mouth with the effort to speak. “I wouldn’t say…” His head slumped down again.

  Searching, Hunter found the wires for the electrical contacts attached to his body. Grabbing the knife from Olivia, he sliced them off and then severed the straps holding him to the chair. His body slumped over, Hunter helping him to the ground, lying him on his back. Checking for a pulse, finding it erratic, Hunter didn’t think he would live much longer. Looking at Olivia, his eyes telling her his time was short.

  Olivia kneeled to the dirty floor, her hand touching Sellers hand. “Thank you.”

  His eyes opened, trying to gaze into hers. “You’re welcome.” He coughed a couple times, more blood coming out. “Make sure your mother…knows I tried…in the end…to do the right thing.” His breathing became shallow, his chest expanding with one last deep breath, head going limp, life leaving the body heading to the afterworld.

  A couple of tears came to Olivia’s eyes. She wasn’t sure why. She was void of feelings for the man who gave her life. Her rage at him apparent. His attempts
to connect rejected by her. Though he did try to help her in the end.

  From somewhere in the room there was a noise. Hunter stood up, raising his gun trying to see who it was. A flash from a gun went off, striking him in the right thigh. His leg gave as he crumpled to the floor. He aimed for the direction of the shot, firing twice, but apparently missing. A gravelly voice bellowing out to him.

  “Drop the gun or I shoot the girl?”

  Hunter did as he was told, his hand going to his thigh to attempt to stem the bleeding. Olivia went over to check on him, seeing the blood, concern in her eyes. Across the floor, Hunter slid the knife to her, mouthing “use it if the opportunity arises”. She gave a curt nod, putting the weapon under her leg, out of sight.

  “You’re lucky I’m not supposed to kill you,” boomed the voice, the man stepping from the shadows.

  “I guess I should be grateful,” winced Hunter. “Am I to assume your Galvanic?”

  “Precisely.”

  Hunter shook his head. “Do you have someone hired specifically to come up with your crazy nicknames?”

  “It seemed appropriate considering my love of electricity.”

  The man stood there, gripping a large .45 Colt handgun. He was short of six-foot-tall, heavy at 220 pounds. His skin pale all over, except for the colorful skull and crossbones which covered his entire neck. He wore an apron, with blood and dirt covering it, over jeans and a t-shirt, his feet covered with rubber boots. He looked like he was straight out of a slasher movie.

  “You should consider surrendering,” proclaimed Hunter. “I have men coming to rescue us. They will be gunning down your twenty or so men. Hell, she and I have taken out four already.”

  Galvanic shrugged. “Could be true, but I don’t care. My job is to grab this girl and put her through much like old dad here. Might even enjoy her for myself, before strapping her in.” He ran his tongue across his lips.