by Jim Magwood
THE
LESSER EVIL
ALSO BY JIM MAGWOOD
Fiction
SANCTION
Non-Fiction
So You’ve Written A Book. Now What?
For information about the author,
plus previews of coming attractions, visit: www.JimMagwood.com
Comes the avenger executing wrath
on those who practice evil.
THE
LESSER EVIL
Jim Magwood
Shiloh Productions
Twin Oaks, California
THE LESSER EVIL
Copyright © 2011 by Jim Magwood. All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photo-copy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.
Published by Shiloh Productions
Twin Oaks, California
Cover by GEM
Twin Oaks, California
ISBN-13: 978-1461112426
ISBN-10: 1461112427
1. Fiction: General Suspense 2. Fiction: Political DEDICATION
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, in the strife of Truth with Falsehood,
for the good or evil side…
Then it is the brave man chooses,
while the coward stands aside…
James Lowell
This is dedicated to those
who choose to stand for their beliefs
in the face of all odds.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to special friends from years past whose lives inspired parts of this story.
You are not forgotten.
And to my wife, Gayle.
You’ve stood behind this when it was tough and allowed me the space to keep putting words on paper.
Thank you for your endurance and your love.
As always, thank you to my Lord, Jesus Christ, to whom all praise shall be given.
( Philippians 2:9-11)
INTRODUCTION
“The evil of the world is made possible
by nothing but the sanction you give it.”
-John Galt-
In the author’s first novel, SANCTION, the world was confronted with a massive plot to take control of that world by an extremely powerful, unknown group. In reference to the above statement by John Galt from Ayn Rand’s novel, Atlas Shrugged, men did get involved in that situation and refused to sanction the threat.
In today’s world, we are not faced with an evil group, per se, but with the effects on the citizens of the world of evil actions and general lawlessness long allowed to fester and now almost completely uncontrolled. It has gotten to the point where “good men” are unable to have peace and security in which to live and raise their families, and the authorities and governments have become hamstrung in their attempts to control the criminal elements and terrorism.
Estimates by several organizations of the world crime statistics indicate more than 206,000 incidences of crime per 100,000 population, twice as many crimes annually as there are people.
According to statistics released by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, there were an estimated 1.4 million violent crimes reported in the U.S. in 2006. There were an estimated 9.9 million property crimes, excluding arson, reported. Excluding arson, victims of property crimes in the United States collectively lost an estimated $17.6 billion.
In 2005, the United Nations estimated that there were more than 200 million illicit drug users worldwide. According to the UN’s annual drug report, the global drug trade is worth at least $320 billion annually, a figure larger than the gross domestic product of 90 percent of the nations of the world.
There are several countries that have successfully detonated nuclear weapons: the United States, Russia (successor state to the Soviet Union), the United Kingdom, France, China, India, Pakistan, and North Korea. Israel is also widely believed to have nuclear weapons, though it has refused to confirm or deny this. South Africa has the unique status of a nation that developed nuclear weapons but has since disassembled its arsenal. Iran is widely believed to have a strong program leading to the development of nuclear weapons, and is very close to actually possessing them. Countries that are either sharing or storing nuclear weapons for other countries include Belgium, Germany, Italy, Netherlands, Turkey, Canada and Greece. There is no idea how many nuclear weapons of the former Soviet Union are not able to be accounted for since the fall of the country from power, especially “suitcase size” weapons.
Death tolls from the major wars and atrocities of the twentieth century, admittedly differing greatly depending on whose statistics are used, are believed to total more than 39
million. This does not include the deaths during the Holocaust of 6 million Jews, or 30 million Russians during their revolu-tion. It is reported there have been more deaths caused by religious persecution in the twentieth century alone than in all the rest of history combined.
Starvation and preventable disease in the past fifty years alone have caused more deaths than all war, terrorism and political repression combined. Estimates indicate that 40,000
Third World children starve to death or die from simple preventable diseases each day, and 60 million people die of starvation each year.
How, in a civilized world, is this possible?
With advances in science giving us space travel and the ability to mine oceans for food, and healthcare that can actually eradicate diseases, how is it we have people dying from starvation and disease by the millions?
With the ability of instant communication between governments, law enforcement agencies and citizens world wide, how can we have uncontrolled crime, criminals feeding off innocent populations with impunity, and so-called leaders of the world being allowed to participate in those criminal activities?
With the ability to harness solar, wind, water and nuclear power, how is it people are living in poverty, dying from starvation, and killing each other to seize control of scarce resources?
In a world that has given birth to so many great minds and achievers in the past, why are we now being led down the garden path to destruction by supposed leaders without common sense, without decency or morals, and without any vision beyond their wallet and personal power?
Why today do we have housing markets crashing while millions are crying out for decent homes, businesses crashing while millions are frantically looking for good products, and economies crashing while millions are looking for decent lives and futures?
Why?
Because in a world that has more of everything than has ever been known since the beginning, we’ve lost our courage and our dreams. We have things, not visions. We allow doubts about what we don’t know to stop us, and we fear stepping out to make our own paths. We have criminals, from back alleys to statehouses, imposing their evil and violence on basically decent populations everywhere and forcing or leading the people into lives of fear and decadence. Where is this road taking us?
Shakespeare wrote,
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we might oft win By fearing to attempt.
We’ve become so used to having others do for us that we’ve given up trying on our own because we just know our efforts will be futile. We’ve been led to believe that we have no power, even the right, to make our lives better, so we sit in anger and fear of what goes on around us and wish for others to make things better. We’ve given all power and control over to political, financial
and moral representatives, and hope they don’t bother us by suggesting we do something ourselves.
What would it take for mankind to reclaim some semblance of peace and goodness? To do away with some of the evil that abounds in the world?
What if?
Suppose you could reach out and personally affect the evil—stamp out some of the evil influences and cause some goodness to return. Would you?
Suppose someone else could do it for you? Suppose someone had the power and resources to rein in the evil and to help you and the other good people of the world gain a sense of real peace—enable you to have the prosperity and comfort you’ve really wanted?
What if?
Jim Magwood
Twin Oaks, California
July, 2011
CHAPTER 1
Reggie Carter saw Hawk motion to him and sauntered out onto the front porch. Hawk had carefully checked the streets and the waiting limo before clearing Reggie to come out. Too many dudes gunning for him for deals gone south or for takeover attempts, so he was always cautious. Casually, of course.
‘Never show fear’ was a major rule in his business, both to the competition and his own ‘hood.
Reggie was heading to town. Town was only a few dozen blocks away, but from where he lived, it was forever. He had grown up in the dirt and had fought and killed to get into the good air, but town was still forever away. Town was hotels and clubs and real restaurants. It was respect from hard guys. It was women who couldn’t wait to be invited to join him for a night of promise and excitement. Town was a long way from home, but he was one of the rulers and players, and town was his playground. And tonight was playtime.
His pockets bulged with big bills. Who needed credit cards? Cash was Reggie’s entrance anywhere he wanted to go.
And Reggie had plenty of cash. $100. $1,000. $10,000. It didn’t matter. Whatever it took. Pass out cash and don’t look back. Let the good times roll, and roll, and roll.
If you wanted drugs in this city, Reggie was the man. Of course, with a population of only a half-million, it wasn’t the biggest city in the country. Reggie would still have been a small fish in a big pond elsewhere. But here, he was king. He was the man. The controller of whatever needed controlling on the streets. He made more money by far than anyone in the city. Politicians, doctors, real estate giants—nobody was close to Reggie. While they all pretended that he wasn’t there, they all knew he was the man. No one dared to touch him. The police kept trying, and the DA pulled his hair out every time someone mentioned his name, but Reggie was simply imper-vious to the attacks. Too many layers. Too many people bought and sold. Too much protection. Reggie was the man.
As he stepped out onto the porch and thought of the excitement of the night ahead, he stretched his arms up to the sky and breathed deep. He felt the huge gold medallion bump against his chest—and that’s exactly where the .300 Win-chester Magnum slug hit him. It sounded like a sledgehammer slapping into a side of beef, with the explosive blast following an instant behind. The slug itself was certainly big enough and would have done the job, but it pushed most of the huge medallion ahead of it as it entered his body and the damage was horrendous. Reggie was thrown back through the front door and landed in the middle of the huge foyer.
The sound of the shot exploded like a lightning bolt, and Hawk swung around just in time to see Reggie flying back-ward into the house. He spun in frantic circles for a moment as others ran out of the house with guns already drawn. They all furiously scanned the street and the dark trying to find the as-sassin, but there was nothing. No sounds of a vehicle racing off, or pounding feet. In fact, no sound at all except for their own shouts. After several moments of chaos they gradually stopped their clamor, and the night became quiet. Deathly quiet.
Gradually, night sounds came back, intensified with the sound of neighbors in the area starting to call out questions.
Sirens began to scream in the distance. A voice from one of the men said, “I’m outa’ here,” and then the sound of several feet leaving. Cars starting up and moving away.
The man was gone, and no one was staying to pick up the pieces.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jeff Woolsey continued to watch the scene through his 10x42 Leupold Ultra scope for a few moments, then carefully slid back away from the roof edge and sat up. He was on the roof of the Dooley Hotel, about six blocks from Reggie’s front door. From nine floors up, though, the roof had an excellent view over the homes in between and right onto Reggie’s porch. With the M24 sniper rifle and the scope, the shot had been easy.
He carefully dismantled the rifle and put it back into the specially designed soft leather garment bag he had brought it in, then stood up and walked quietly to the roof door that would take him back to the street. No one had noticed anything odd about him going up; no one would notice him going back out. Just another hotel guest heading to the airport or something.
Nice, he thought. It only took one shot again. Save the rest for another crook, another time, another place. One more down. If the cops can’t get them, there’s always one of us with guts and training enough to do the job. One way or another, things will get better when we finally drive them all out.
CHAPTER 2
“Baksher, ol’ boy. I din’ know you came to these shings any more. Wha’cha doin’ here, mingling with th’ minions?”
“Josh, I didn’t expect to see you. How in the world are you?” Henry Baxter was caught in a crowd of journalists trying to get into the main auditorium for the big event of the conference. He really didn’t like being at these events, but this was supposedly the big one of the year and he couldn’t resist.
He had won enough awards for his reporting that he didn’t need this appearance at all, but he was hoping to find a couple of old friends and maybe pick up some tips directing him to his next big story. ‘Good old Josh’ Hayward he hadn’t really expected, or wanted, to see again. A major pain, he thought.
“I’m doin’ fine, Baksher boy, but wha’ ‘bout you? You here t’ scoop all us again?” It was obvious ‘good old Josh’
was well in his cups—again. He had always complained about reporters like Henry getting the best stories and scooping the rest of them over and over. However, his consumption of liq-uid joy usually ensured he wouldn’t be ready and available if a good story did come his way.
“I’ve got to get over to the phone room quickly, Josh, but it was good to see you. Keep in touch, okay?” He had to almost pry his hand out of the grip of his ‘old friend,’ but did so as gently as possible and moved away quickly. He really had received a call and needed to return it, but if it had been anyone but ‘good old Josh,’ he would have spent some time renewing acquaintances and perhaps probing for possible stories. Just one more reason, he thought, for staying out on my own and avoiding these bashes. They just aren’t profitable enough and generally produce too many bumps with the past.
Next year, No!
He got to the room set apart for quiet phone conversations, listened again to the short message, returned the call and waited. He didn’t know where the area and prefix were from, but knew it was an international call. His cell phone was one of the best and had worldwide satellite reception, so he was never far from messages. His call was picked up on the third ring and the voice said, “Hello Mr. Baxter. Thank you for returning our call.”
With a little surprise at the immediate recognition, Henry responded, “May I ask who this is, please?”
The voice replied, respectfully, “I can’t tell you that, Mr.
Baxter, but what I have to say will be worth your while. May I continue?”
Henry had no reason to not listen, so simply said, “Yes.”
“Thank you, Mr. Baxter. Do you know of the Hammershed Corporation? Actually known as ‘A. G. Hammershed & Sons, Ltd. Import and Export?’”
“I don’t know them personally, but, yes, I know of them.
Import/Export? Seems to me I know them more as a food producer or meat packing
operation, something like that.”
“You are correct. They’re well known for their food production, especially the packing of various meat products for worldwide distribution. Their published headquarters are in the United States, but their true headquarters are in The Netherlands, and their main function is the overall importing and exporting of almost anything.”
“Well, then, I guess I do know something of them, but certainly not as much as you apparently do.”
“Then, sir, I would like you to be the first to know of their impending demise.”