Tomahawk (11 page)

“President Mentik, does this have to do with your son getting out of jail for the sexual assault he committed five years ago and you covering it up?  Was it all that guilt that drove him to do it?”  a short reporter shouted out, pushing towards the front of the crowd as he spoke.  “There is evidence that your son sexually assaulted a young girl and there is proof here that you covered it up.”  The short guy extended his arm above the crowd, just a manila folder stood out in a sea of people.

The former president looked at his wife, who continued to shake her had back and forth.  “Those are ugly allegations. My son is dead for Christ’s sake. Have some respect.  That will be all.”  He nearly dragged his wife back into their home.  The handful of reporters shouted and blasted questions at a closed door.  Then what looked like a local reporter turned to the camera.  The biggest news story in the last few weeks.

He couldn’t contain a smile.  “Yes, it has been confirmed that the former President of the United States, Jacob Mentik, Sr., has lost his son Jacob Mentik, Jr. to an apparent   suicide.”  He put his hand to his ear and looked at the ground.  “Yes, we have learned that there are indeed signed signatures from local DC judges that have falsified court documents.  We will have more details for you as this story develops.”  The reporter smiled at the camera. He must be thinking that this is his chance, covering a large story like this while my world was rapidly collapsing around me.

“Are you going to get that?”  I heard my brother say.  My phone buzzed in my hand, but hand didn’t want to work.  And my ears didn’t want to hear any more bad news.  “Vic?”

The caller ID screen was an unknown number and usually I would pick it up with a professional hello.  Today my greeting came out weak and tired.

“Victor?” A shaky voice came over the line.  “This is…this is Mrs. Mentik.  Do you remember me?”  How could I forget? I just saw you less than thirty seconds ago?

“Yes, ma’am I remember.  Mrs. Mentik I am truly sorry for your loss.”  It was customary for one to offer help to a grieving family, but I knew that this call wasn’t just an update.

I heard her sniff over the phone.  “I know that the two of you were close.  You were a big brother to him, thick as thieves…well you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean, Mrs. Mentik.”  I wanted to terminate the call--just hang up.  But I just waited for her to blow her nose again.  “Mrs. Mentik, I know that this is very hard for you, but I--”

“Find him and kill him Victor.”

Now it was time for me to play dumb. I closed my eyes and spoke slowly.  “Mrs. Mentik, Jake killed himself.”  I was lying through my teeth. 

I opened my eyes and standing before me was Kinney, mouthing over to me “The president’s wife?”  I nodded.

She blew her nose.  “I was fully aware of what my son was.  The why, I will never know. But all the same, he was my son. And his death needs to be avenged and you will be the man that I hire to do it.  Name your price.”

I looked to Kinney and the rest of my team for help.  “Mrs. Mentik, I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way.  You just can’t hire me to kill someone.  And like I said, your son killed himself.”

I could imagine her clearing her throat and wiping tears off her plastic face.  “I know you are hearing what they are saying about my husband.”  She paused.  “Victor, every single word of it is true.  And I could only guess in the pile of shit somewhere your name will float up to the surface.”

I chuckled.  “Are you blackmailing me?”

“Son, I’m giving you the opportunity to do what is right.”

“By killing some innocent person?”

“You and I both know that Jake would never end his own life. If he was going to do so he would have done it in his detention center. What I am saying is, your favor to me will be so that you are able to sleep at night.”  Every hair on my body stood at attention. “You still there?”  I grunted.  “This will clear your conscience on what you did to that poor little girl, years ago.  I know that you still are having what you would call side effects from it. Am I wrong?”

“Mrs. Mentik, he killed himself and going after some invisible person will not make anything better but worse.”  By this time the whole team had created a half circle around me, all straining to hear.  Whispering amongst themselves on what they knew and all they didn’t know.  I turned my back on my team and in a hushed voice I covered the phone with my hand.  "As far as my conscience, he and I are good.  Again, I am sorry for your loss.  Tell Mr. Mentik I said hello and give him my condolences."

I heard her shout, "Wait," before I ended the call.  "Victor.  I don't dance around the things that I know for fact--or what I want."  She waited a moment, goading me.  "What if I told you that I know who killed my son?" I wanted to ask her to repeat herself.  If she was standing in front of me, I would have shook it out of her.  My throat was too dry to speak.  "Victor, I will need you to come to Wyoming.  Tell my husband that you are going to find the man that did this, make it your own idea.  I will give you all the information that you need while you are here."  She blew her nose again.  "There will be a plane meeting you at the private air strip in about an hour. The plane only seats five, so I hope you will be bringing your best men."

I gritted my teeth.  She had me by the short hairs.  I had to know who was behind all of this.  "How would you know that I would agree to this?"

I could see all those veneer capped teeth in her mouth shining.  "A man like you doesn't like things undone."

Chapter 8

Kinney agreed to watch the 'girls.'  Melissa moaned for having to be left out.  Without breaking her neck, I told her that we would be back in the morning.  I took one last look at Tonya sleeping, still laying half in the bed. Her feet hanging over the side. 

In a movie I should have whispered something to her, sexy or romantic.  Something that her subconscious would work on while she slept, but I couldn't muster up anything good to say but, "I'll see you in the morning."
Drew, Ryan and I hailed a cab to the other side of the city and sure as rain the Cessna plane was waiting for us.  I checked my phone and it was a scorching 52 degrees in Kelly, WY.  There was little talk for the five plus hours we were on the plane.  Nothing really to say. It was barely two o'clock in the afternoon our time.
Drew took advantage of the quiet time and curled himself up best he could in his seat.  The blanket that was given looked more like a bath towel.  The big guy slept like a baby.
My brother, after the pilot said it was okay, booted up his laptop and ran another search for everything that he could find concerning the President’s son.  I wanted to sleep, wanted to close my eyes.  Wanting not to think about my former boss and all the crap he and his God forsaken family had in store for me and my men.
Peeking out the window the earth looked like it was under a white down comforter.  Resting, not aware of the evil that had stepped--or rather stomped--into my life.  The snow was just hiding it I thought.  Hiding what was leering around us, among us.  Watching us as we hid next to it under the covers.
The bumps woke me up.  "Sorry, boys. Trying to get from up under the snow fall," the pilot said.  I had no idea that I'd fallen asleep.  "We will be descending shortly."  I glanced at my watch and did the math in my head.  It was a quarter past seven, so it was three in the afternoon in Kelly.  My brother’s head had fallen back into the seat as he slept.  The big guy flipped and flopped trying to find the comfortable place in his chair.

"My goodness, I have no idea why Victor can even stomach you."  Kinney addressed Melissa who had paced the floor countless times.  "On paper you seem like the model solider, but in real life you are nothing but a spoiled brat.  So what he left here. He trusted you enough to watch his most prized possession, and you are ungrateful.  Tisk, tisk."  He shook his head.
"All I'm saying is why couldn’t he leave Drew here with her?  I'm sure that she would want him more so than me.  I mean, come on."  She threw her arms out to her side, face twisted in anger.  "I'm just saying, if this was any other case that we were working on, I would be down there in the thick of things.  But when it comes to the princess in there, all rules are out the door."  She stomped over to the couch, praying that the racket would wake sleeping beauty.
Kinney stood next to her.  "I think you fail to understand that I am your boss and your behavior is troubling."  He put his finger to his mouth and smiled.  "Like my mother would say, you're beginning to be more trouble than you’re worth.  So if I were you, I would straighten the hell up and grow a pair and deal with it."
In the last four and half years she had never had to take a backseat.  Never had to watch from the sidelines as the boys were out to play.  She was reduced to being a babysitter to a chick that she truly didn't care for.  "All I'm saying is Vic never acts this way.  Never puts his own needs above the team."
"Cut the shit, Mel. You are mad that all the attention isn't placed on you.  That Ryan cares for someone else more than you.  So just stop it. NOW!" 

Am I jealous?  No, it could be that, she thought, after being scolded by her employer. "I wish that someone would just take my side."  She mumbled.
"I think someone would take it if you were right."  He sat down next to her.  "Not trying to be an asshole, but you have to understand that Victor loves this woman.  And you are too foolish to understand what that means.  He would die for her, so would Ryan and Drew.  And those same men would do the same for you. Now shut the hell up and order some room service, because I'm starving."  He put his feet on the ottoman and laid back on the couch.
"Get it your damn self."
"That's my girl."

"Now I know what a polar bear’s balls feel like," Drew said, pulling his hands into the sleeves of his parka.  "Damn, I thought DC was cold."
"Yeah, the devil doesn't even come here."  I knocked on the Mentik's front door.
A small Asian woman opened the door.  Without a word she gestured us to follow her deeper into their home.  The cabin/mansion was floored with dark hardwood floors that I could see my reflection in.  She led us to the sitting room.  A blazing fireplace roared in front us, making me and my men sweat.  Mr. Mentik stared into the fireplace, remembering something I didn't know.  The glass of brandy had maybe two swallows in it as he swirled it around. 

"Mr. Mentik?"
Never looking up at us.  "Call me Jake, Victor.  All you've been through with my family, we should at least be on a first name basis."  I nodded a gesture that he didn't even see as he stared off.  The little Asian lady came back with her hands out, taking our parkas. 
I stepped closer to him, closer to the fire. Every animal known to man was stuck on the wall.  Dead eyes staring at us.  "Jake, I'm here to help you.  We want to get the guy that did this to your son."
I wasn't sure if he had heard me or not.  His face was drenched with either sweat from the fire or tears from his sorrow.  I guessed probably a mixture of both, plus the brandy.  "He's dead you know?  He'll never ever really be able to make up for what he'd done.  I wished he would have done it when he was inside, you know?  I can't wrap my head around it. Is that cruel?"
"No, we all have our ways of coping, Jake.  What do you want me and my team to do?" 
Big Jake, what he was often called, finally looked up at me.  His mouth parted for a moment, then he shook his head.  "I don't know."  He looked like a man that was completely lost in his own home.  "I did everything for my boy."
"We know you did.  He took that love that you had for him with him," Mrs. Mentik said.  Gone were the tears and the downcast look.  She had changed clothes from the sack clothes and ashes look she was rocking on television to a long maxi dress.  Her fire engine red hair was pulled up tight in a bun.  She put a loving hand on her husband's shoulder.  "Jake, Victor and the rest of his--" She tossed a look to my men. "--friends will be in the study.  If you need anything just holler for Ling."
She walked past us and we crossed the hall into a room that looked more like a Wall Street meeting room than a study.  A mahogany table lay in front of us with 12 chairs. With a picture of the Last Supper on the far wall. "Please gentlemen, take a seat," she said as Jesus watched us on the night of his betrayal.
"What do you know, Mrs. Mentik?"  I asked.  The trip had me on edge, but she ignored my tone.
She sat at the head of the table.  "As you well know, being the president of the United States, you get your ton of fan mail."  She smiled as she sipped her own glass of brandy.  "After what my son had done, you know as well as I do, there was only a handful of people that knew what really happened that night.  Martin…Emmett Martin, another member of the Secret Service was alerted and gave me this."
She slid over at least 50 letters rubber banded together.  "What is this?"  I thumbed through the stack.  All addressed to the White House with no return address.
"That would be letters from a mad man.  Sparing you from the drama of what they all say.  Threats, well now they are kept promises.  The murder of my son and the promise of destruction of the lives that helped cover it up."  She pointed to the mail. 
Feeling stretched and worn like the rubber band.  "So you are telling me that my team and I traveled all the way here for some hate mail?  I thought that you had something that we could work with."  I gave a nod to Drew and Ryan and we all stood and made our way to the front door.
"His name is Steven Sanden.  He was 23 years old when he wrote these letters."
I remember Tonya used to call it her mental Rolodex.  The name was familiar, but not. 

Mrs. Mentik grew tired of me thinking.  Rolling her eyes, she said, "It's
Lola's
older brother."
"Shit." 

The way Mrs. Mentik said her name, it wasn't pity.  It wasn't remorse.  It was something else. "Shit is right."  Reaching behind her she passed me a folder.  "At the time, my husband and I were kept abreast of Mr. Sander's movements.  After that mock trial we had for Little Jake, the letters stopped.  We were out of the White House and all was fine."  She stood up a little straighter and with long bony fingers she smoothed the back of her bun.  Only a handful of people knew that he was getting out today.  Big Jake and I were planning on seeing him the end of next week."  She paused and then the real tears began to form.  "As you can see, we do not have the means or the Intel that we once had while in the White House."
"So we do the leg work then?"  I replied.  "We find him--"
"Then you kill him."  Removing nonexistent lint from her dress.  "I do not want theatrics. I don't want his severed head mailed to our home or any barbaric act such as that.  I want to know that this Sander's man is taken care of in a permanent way. I'm sure that you and your...friends are more than capable of handling this in the most discreet manner."  She looked back at Jesus and his disciples.  "Vengeance is mine says the Lord," she said, smiling like an innocent girl just walking out of Sunday school.
If she only knew what we were capable of doing to him.  "Mrs. Mentik, thank you for the information.  This...matter will be taken care of."
"The sooner the better.  Now--" She flashed her veneer covered smile.  "Since all of this is settled, your pilot is waiting for you at the airstrip."  She made her way around the table and shook all of our hands. 

The small Asian woman reappeared at the doorway.  We couldn't see her face over the mountain of parkas she carried into the room. 

"I will be in touch and payment will be administered after our agreement is finalized."  Leading us back to the front door of the cabin, Mrs. Mentik explained, "I do apologize for rushing you and your colleagues out, but my husband and I must plan a funeral."
In the foyer I turned, tucking the file and the letters in the inside pocket of my parka.  "Again, we are all sorry for what happened to Jake.  There was a time that he and I were really close."
Her bony hands went to her neck she cocked her head and smiled.  "Son, I knew what my son was capable of.  As sweet as he was, there were things that were a little off.  When you have children, you too will understand." 

I thought about the child that Tonya carried that never had a chance.

"My son was who he was."  She lowered her head.  "Little Jake, always had a hunger inside of him.  But he was always my child."  She nodded to the files under my coat.  "Don't be sorry. Make Sanders sorry that he ever fucked with my family."