Mia's Journey: An Erotic Thriller (24 page)

“A fascist is one whose lust for money or power is combined with such an intensity of intolerance toward those of other races, parties, classes, religions, cultures, regions or nations as to make him ruthless in his use of deceit or violence to attain his ends.”

Henry A. Wallace

Chapter 66

Denton Millstone came into the Prescott house and handed Jeffery Prescott a sealed test tube of semen. The package was received. He was paid, and he was dismissed.

“Okay, let’s break this down in parts, so we don’t miss anything,” William Prescott said. “In order for this to work we have to consider the involvement of Flynn, Mia, the boyfriend, the medical examiner, and the press. Let’s start with Flynn.”

Flynn: Once given the green light, he would receive an anonymous tip, and go to the meat-packing plant where he would find Mia, and kill Daddy.

Mia: She would be found unconscious beaten and bruised. Semen would be injected into her body cavities. She would be taken to a local hospital where a rape kit would be performed.

Boyfriend: In the hospital, his DNA material would be found linking him to the brutal assault on Mia. He, of course, would be shot dead so his side of the story would be irrelevant.

The Medical Examiner and forensics: Would corroborate Flynn’s and Mia’s testimony.

The Press: Would be on hand recording the scene for public consumption as well as to leak various details after the fact.

So the plan was this; they would give Sergeant Flynn the appropriate time and place, where he would bust in and find Daddy with a beaten Mia. Daddy of course would resist and be shot dead. After douching her thoroughly, they would inject enough Daddy juice into Mia’s snatch and ass that conclusive DNA proof would be obtained.

Mia would then corroborate the story about the abduction at the school, and the subsequent rapes and beatings. Salacious and sexual details would be leaked to the press in an effort to sway public opinion.

Prescotts Elder and Junior were seated in Elder Prescott’s study. Both men had whiskeys. William preferred his neat, while Jeffery liked his with ice. Jeffery swirled the smoky amber liquid around in his glass as he thought through various aspects of the plan.

“How are we going to explain the massive bruising on his body?” asked Elder Prescott.

“Well, going up against an armed and trained police can’t be too healthy. That is going to explain a large part of it.”

“True, but he’s been beaten with baseball bats. It won’t explain all of it. I think the best course of action would be to have the ME make note of it, so it doesn’t look suspicious, then ignore it. Or perhaps, not look too deeply. He’ll just attribute it to trauma associated with death. Unless there is an independent autopsy, it shouldn’t be called into question. Okay then, let’s talk about Mia.”

William Prescott didn’t get to be the patriarch by virtue of being a fool, but by meticulous planning.

“What about her?”

“She’s the weak link in the entire plan.”

“How so?”

“If she doesn’t go along with the story, it will all fall apart. We need some leverage. If we kill her boyfriend, what leverage do we have?”

Both men pondered this aspect.

“My police contacts said that three pregnancy tests were recovered at the apartment, all positive. Mia’s pregnant. We can threaten to abort her baby. We’ll have to any way of course when the time comes, but the threat alone should be enough to keep her in line.”

“I think then, the less she knows the better. Her next beating should include some well placed kicks to the abdomen in the hope we can abort the fetus. We should knock her out, perform an anal and vaginal douche just in case. Then we squirt her full of her boyfriend’s juice, take her unconscious body to the crime scene and leave her there with her boyfriend. Then have the good officer Flynn receive an anonymous tip. He rushes in and saves the day,” wrapped up Elder Prescott.

Jeffery stroked his chin. “The police and press swarm the scene. We make sure we give Flynn a script to follow. Mia is filmed being taken away by ambulance. I like it.”

“We’ll also need some friendly reporters we can leak information too. Who do you know? We got any on the payroll?”

“Oh, sure. The press are whores. Give them something canned they don’t need to investigate, that contains sex, drugs, or violence, and they eat it up with a spoon. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“We need to make sure she only comes to after the forensic evidence has been obtained. If she starts with any wild stories, we can say she’s been ‘Stockholmed’ by her abductor and is simply parroting lines he fed her. We let it leak last that she lost the baby. That should increase the female sympathy vote.”

Both men sat lost in thought, looking at the various details from different angles.

“Actually, Jeff, if we play this right, there isn’t any chances of you losing the election. Think about it. The press coverage will be all over the news. Beautiful young girl,” Jeffery snorted at that, “kidnapped, raped, and beaten. Then comes a heroic officer to the rescue. The family, of course, asks for privacy in their time of grief and healing.

“We allow a few of the salacious details to escape, just to tantalize the public. Then, at the appropriate moment, we call a press conference. Parade Mia out, visibly pregnant with your baby. She parrots the party line about her horrendous abuse at the hands of Gilheart, then her abductor. There won’t be a dry eye in the house. Then, right before the election, the poor girl loses the baby in a miscarriage.

“It will be so ‘Kennedyeque’ in its overtones, you’ll almost be able to see John John saluting JFK’s coffin. How could you NOT win the election?”

“What about Mia after the election?”

“She’ll have to die, of course. She’ll probably commit suicide from grief from losing the baby, or postpartum depression. We don’t need that slutty little whore around anymore anyway.”

“Well then, should we contact friendly officer Flynn and tell him the script?” Jeffery wanted to know.

“Now’s a good a time as any.”

Jeffery flipped open his cell phone and speed dialed. No Answer. He checked the number and tried again. Still no answer.

“Maybe he’s busy.”

Elder Prescott, however, didn’t like the feel of it.

“Let’s turn on the closed circuit TV and see what’s happening.”

Jeffery walked to the laptop computer and punched a few buttons. The screen immediately popped into view. They could see Flynn on the floor motionless, with rope wrapped around his neck. William and Jeffery looked at each other.

“Gimme that,” said William Prescott, using the mouse to pan the camera.

He panned the camera and it looked like about a dozen dead gang bangers were piled up in the doorway as well as the hall.

“Oh, fuck me…” was all he said.

“I don’t initiate violence, I retaliate.”

Chuck Norris

Chapter 67

Daddy had to work fast, and he didn’t have much time.

He put Flynn’s shoes on, but they were much too big. So he grabbed some newspaper close by and stuffed the toes to make them fit better. The same with Flynn’s uniform. He checked the pockets, getting what he thought might be useful, and using the knife he cut the pants to fit.

He looked around the kill room. There weren’t any weapons other than Flynn’s. He could hear the home boys down the hall and hoped they had satiated their blood lust enough that they wouldn’t check in on Flynn.

Next, he took the battery and jumper cables and carried them behind the door. Since the door opened inward, this gave him a place to hide.

Now, he had to think. The drugs may have deadened the pain, but it also hindered his thinking ability.

How many gang bangers? At least a dozen, maybe more.

What are my options? Very few. Sneak past them or fight.

Can I sneak out past them? There is only one way out, and it leads right past them.

What are my advantages? Right now, I have the element of surprise. I have weapons.

What are my disadvantages? I’m outnumbered, and outgunned.

Daddy weighed a bunch of plans in his mind, then discarded them for one reason or another. He had to use the element of surprise to take out a large number of them in the beginning.

Then pick off pockets of resistance. For that, he needed them concentrated in one place.

Once he decided upon a plan, he put all the elements in place that he would need. Daddy took a bandanna, soaked it in water, and tied it over his eyes. He could still see, but his vision was obscured. No help for that.

He thought about the sound of Flynn’s voice, and using his best imitation, he could come up with yelled,

“DOP, help me, hurry!”

Daddy heard a flurry of sound as feet and chairs scraped the floor, then the sound of weapons being grabbed. Next, he heard the sound of running feet as sneakers slapped the hall floor.

DOP rounded the door and stepped in, coming into the room while the others stood back in the hall.

“Wha de fuck...” Was all he could articulate as Daddy stepped from behind the door, and attached both cables, one to each side of his neck. DOP immediately went into a jittering dance the brothers haven’t seen since ‘Soul Train’ went off the air.

Daddy stepped around the jitter dancing DOP, and sprayed mace with one hand while firing Flynn’s Glock with the other. They were first blinded by the mace, and the brothers crowded in the doorway in confusion.

As soon as one raised a weapon, Daddy shot him at point-blank range.

He emptied the clip, and the mace canister. He dropped the canister and ejected the clip on the floor. Reached into his pocket, and shoved another clip into the pistol grip of the Glock. Since the Glock had a seventeen round magazine, and this was close range, by the time the smoke cleared, it looked like an Auschwitz firing range.

Some of the brothers got away and were scrambling down the hall. Daddy took a quick peek around the door and saw two with their backs turned. He shot them both.

One round literally picked the gang banger up and carried him on his tip toes right into the fire door blocking the exit. Daddy looked back into the room as DOP’s afro spontaneously combusted and his head caught on fire. He turned back to the hallway.

Daddy could see the light on in the break room as well as hear more excited voices coming from there. He made his way silently down the hall, arm outstretched, gun aimed for the doorway.

A head poked around the corner and earned a head shot. The corpse dropped with a look of disbelief on his face, the back of his head missing.

Daddy had to get past the break room, and out the door. Unfortunately, his element of surprise was gone and he was now in the same position as the fallen gang bangers. He would be in the doorway, and they would be waiting for him.

He stood back to the wall against the door jamb.

“I knows you’s there, Cracker, comes get what you came fo’,” this said by, he assumed, the girl with the straight razor. He looked down the hall and realized none of the bangers he shot were female. Which meant all the hoes had stayed back. One had to assume she had a better weapon than a straight razor now.

“All I want to do is get out that door,” Daddy said, “you don’t have to die tonight.”

“Wha makes you think I be the one dying?”

“The big crowd of dead boyfriends on the floor, for one.”

“So wha you suppose we do, Cracker?”

“How about you step out into the hall with your hands up?”

“So you can shoot us too?”

“It’s either that or I come in there and shoot you.”

He could hear the girls talking among themselves. Straight razor was the leader and she was going down hard, no matter what. The other girls seemed to think living might be a better option.

Daddy took the baton he had shoved into his belt, weighed it in his hand, and let it fly as hard as he could towards the window of the break room. He hoped the window wasn’t made of plexi-glass.

The glass crashed inward with a bang, and Daddy stepped into the room. Straight Razor wheeled around with a gun in her hand. Daddy had no choice but to shoot her in the mouth.

Blood, teeth, and brains exited the back of her head all over the girls in back of her, then Straight Razor, fell in a heap on top of them. The two other girls had both hands over their mouths screaming, no guns or weapons in sight. They were no threat. So Daddy backed of out the room, and made for the door.

Daddy looked at the vehicles and decided the van must be Flynn’s. He opened the back and climbed in. It was a surveillance van. He looked through the gear and realized, once again, he was in luck.

He had surveillance and counter surveillance equipment. Both audio and video. This put a whole new wrinkle in this entire operation.

Daddy hopped in the driver’s seat, put the van in gear, stirred up some dust on the gravel driveway and in minutes was heading North on the freeway.

Baby Doll, I’m coming,
he said to himself.

“Experience hath shewn, that even under the best forms of government, those entrusted with power have, in time, and by slow operations, perverted it into tyranny.”

Thomas Jefferson

Chapter 68

William and Jeffery Prescott looked at CCTV in total disbelief.

They panned around the room with the camera. There was a river of blood flowing into the drain where Daddy had been tied. They saw movement and panned back towards it. Flynn was moving slightly at first, then sitting up shaking his head, trying to clear it.

“Well, at least Flynn’s alive,” said William, “we can take that as a small miracle.”

“What the fuck happened? How could he possibly have outsmarted Flynn and gunned down all those gang bangers?”

“The last time we looked at it, he was being beaten to death with baseball bats!”

“Is there a recording function on that camera, is it just real time?”

“No, we can do a playback. Good thinking.”

Jeffery pressed a few buttons, and rewound the tape back two hours. He stopped when he could see Flynn talking to the gang bangers.

“Try from here?”

“No, go back further. Let’s see when Denton took his sample. Start from there.”

Jeffery went back further until Denton appeared, shaking his head violently back and forth, gesturing at Daddy. Then the one they called DOP said something, and Denton walked around Daddy like he was walking around a rattlesnake. They appeared to be talking for a while. Denton, they could see, was visibly relaxing.

“I wonder what they are talking about? Does this system have audio?”

“No, unfortunately it doesn’t.”

Denton surreptitiously took out a syringe, loaded it, and shot Daddy in the ass.

“Look, he gave him a painkiller, I bet. Maybe that was what the conversation was about.”

“Maybe.”

They watched as Denton put a plastic sleeve over the end of Daddy’s cock, then inserted the electro ejaculation device into his rectum.

“Man, that has just got to suck.”

“It didn’t suck enough, obviously.”

Denton, went through a couple of cycles, then milked Daddy’s testicles. Then he started the cycle over again.

The gang bangers just watched, their mouths hanging open. A couple of the hoes got down on their knees and with one eye watching the action and the other on their men, milked their cocks at the same time.

“What a bunch of animals.”

Denton finished up, took the sleeve off Daddy’s cock and stood up, putting his tools away.

“Freeze it right there!” said William Prescott.

“What the fuck is he doing?”

“He’s giving him another shot. Why would he do that? Why give him a shot AFTER the procedure?”

“Okay, we’ve seen what we need to see. Fast-forward to when Flynn arrives.”

Jeffery pressed some buttons and the figures moved forward in fast motion comically. In their rush they didn’t see Daddy using his weight to get the slack from the rope.

They stopped as Flynn was standing at the door in a black mask. They watched as he brought in the battery and jumper cables, then the five-gallon pail of water. Flynn was obviously talking.

He pulled up a chair, and sat down. Flynn had his head down, so they couldn’t see his lips. Then suddenly he stood up, sponged down his victim, and picked up the battery cables.

Neither man could believe their eyes when Daddy suddenly came alive from his beaten, submissive, posture, flew through the air and instantly wrapped the rope around Flynn’s neck and then fell to the floor.

“Holy shit. Who is this guy?”

“Flynn said he had some sort of military background.”

“Ya fuckin’ think?”

Both men watched in awe as Daddy took the battery and cables, and set up an ambush. They watched in fascination as DOP came in and Daddy used the very same torture device meant for him and turned the tables on his attackers.

They watched as he stepped from behind the door, spraying the gang bangers with yellow tear gas, and he calmly, and methodically, shot them all.

They sat looking at each other in silence.

“Well, that was quite some show.”

“Too bad. After that, I’d like to hire him for my security detail.”

“You realize this guy is now hunting us, right?”

“Yes, Jeffery, believe it not, that part didn’t escape me.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I think we can continue with the plan. Instead of having him killed, which obviously would have been better, I think that a citywide police manhunt for an escaped murderer might be in order. We’ll get the public involved. Post a reward for information. To come after us, he has to move around. If anyone sees him, they contact the police and he, hopefully, goes down in a hail of gunfire. That puts time on our side. He can’t stay invisible forever.”

“That means we’ll need to bring the Police Commissioner in on this. The more people involved, the weaker the plan.”

“Let me worry about him.”

“So then, how do we begin?”

“Let Flynn know we’ll be bringing Mia down. We’ll need to get rid of the gang bangers, or tie them in some way to this homicidal maniac. Let Flynn worry that detail.”

“What do we do?”

“We need to get that kidnapped, abused wife of yours ready. If she’ll go along with the plan, great. If not, knock her out and do it anyway. By the time she comes to, it will all be in motion.”

“That’s taking a hell of a gamble.”

“Got any better ideas, Jeff?”

“Flynn is going to need some time to get his shit squared away.”

“So? Give him twenty-four hours. After that, we have to move ahead.”

“What about you? What are you going to do?”

“First, I have to square this entire fuck up with the commissioner. Then, I think it is time we got some professionals involved to track this guy down.”

“Professionals?”

“Yeah, professional mercenaries. Black Snake guys. They don’t come cheap, believe me.”

“What will you do with them?”

“Some we’ll keep here as bodyguards. The others we send out as hunter-killer teams to track this fucker down. Between them, the police, and the public all looking for him, he won’t stand a chance.”