Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1)

by L. Douglas Hogan

  “Need a little help over here, Den.”

  Denny was on his tenth kill when he heard Nathan’s call for help. When he looked over, the man with the board dropped it into position to make a bridge between the two buildings. Denny shot him while Nathan grabbed the board and hoisted it over the edge, where it fell to the street. In the process, five more men had come up out of the hatch and were sitting ducks for Nathan. He began shooting at them while Denny turned to see a man close enough to grab him. He habitually went for his Karambit blade, but remembered too late it was taken by the Fist when they were captured. The man at the top of the ladder grabbed Denny by the coat. Denny fell backwards with the man on top of him. The second man on the ladder reached the roof and ran around to assist his associate by knocking Denny unconscious. Nathan was too busy shooting at the men across the way to realize Denny had been silenced. One of the men grabbed Denny’s rifle and walked right up behind Nathan while he was plugging away at the others and used the buttstock of the rifle to knock him out.

  Denny awakened first. He was in a dimly lit room and Nathan was across from him. They were both restrained to chairs with their arms behind them and their legs wrapped to the chair legs.

  “Boss,” Denny whispered in a loud enough voice to attract the attention of a guard, who was positioned just outside of their door.

  The door opened; a skinny man with a rifle looked in. “Ah, good, you’re awake. I’ll get Markus,” he said just before closing the door.

  The man had Denny’s attention while the door was open, but now it was closed, and Denny had to make a move. Deep in his gut he knew he was being kept alive for a purpose. He and Nathan had dropped over a dozen of their men, so keeping them alive meant bad news was ahead for both of them. They were sloppily restrained to the chairs. The legs were metal, but the seat and back was a solid piece of molded plastic. Denny simply stood up and shuffled himself to Nathan, where he flopped back down into a seated position next to him.

  “Boss, wake up.”

  Denny was nudging him with his head. He did so until Nathan was startled awake. Looking around the room, Nathan saw he and Denny were bound to chairs. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know, boss. I just woke up, too. There was a man with a gun at the door a moment ago. He said he was going to get some guy named Markus.”

  Nathan and Denny both began squirming around in their chairs, attempting to break loose from their bonds.

  The door opened. Both Nathan and Denny stopped trying to get out and turned their attention to the tall black man standing in the doorway. He also had a rifle. He stepped into the room and looked at Denny. He didn’t say anything, but turned and looked at the spot where Denny was originally. He then turned to look back at Denny.

  “That’s not where I left you,” the man said. “The two of you killed sixteen of my men and injured three.”

  “Who are you?” Nathan asked.

  “Typical,” Markus said. “There’s such a sense of entitlement these days. I’ve got the guns, the shelter, the food, and you’re asking me the questions?”

  Nathan didn’t respond.

  “My name is Markus. I don’t want to keep you bound up like this, but my men brought you here because you shot and killed several of them. I need to determine if you’re good guys or bad guys; that’s it. Simple question: Are you good guys or bad guys?”

  “I suppose good and bad are relative to the man in charge,” Nathan answered.

  Markus smiled. “This is true.”

  Markus walked to the threshold of the doorway and reached around the corner, grabbing the guard’s chair to bring it into the room. He set it in front of Nathan and Denny. “Look, fellas. I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m not into torture or anything like this. I need men—men like you. You took out sixteen of my men. Not just took them out, but bravely took them out, with skill. You have skillfulness that I need in this city. I’m offering you a place here in this community, but I need to know that you can adapt to our way of life. Can you adapt to not being in charge?” Markus asked, looking directly into Nathan’s eyes.

  Nathan was not intimidated by Markus or the fact that he was once again tied to a chair. The last few months had been more than a callousing experience for him.

  “What’s your name again?” Nathan asked him. The goal being sarcasm, but Markus didn’t pick up on it.

  “Markus.”

  “Markus, I was taught this simple phrase. It’s stuck with me my whole life: Improvise, adapt, and overcome,” he answered.

  “I like it. Improvise, adapt, and overcome. Like, improvise with what you have, adapt to your new environment, but I’m getting caught up on the overcome part. What is it that you desire to overcome?”

  Nathan thought about an appropriate response. This guy seemed clingy to his position, so he didn’t want him to know that his intentions were to undermine that.

  “I have no desire to undermine you or anything you do here, if that’s your concern.”

  “I have more armed men standing outside this door. If you try anything stupid, they’re authorized to stop you. Do you understand?”

  Nathan looked at Denny and he agreed to the terms. “We understand.”

  “Release them,” Markus said to one of the guards. “I’m glad you’re here, gentlemen. Maybe we can go for a walk and discuss job openings.”

  Nathan realized that he really wasn’t in a position where he had any leverage. The best thing for him and Denny was to follow through on Markus’s course of action and make a move when they saw an opportunity—improvise, adapt, and overcome.

  Markus stepped out into the hallway and motioned for Nathan and Denny to exit with him. There were now four armed guards with Markus. One was leading the escort, and three were walking behind them. Markus was the man in charge of the armed guards, but Nathan had more questions than answers.

  “So I see you have an operation here that you want us to be a part of, but we still don’t know what you have here.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I told you my name, but you haven’t introduced yourselves yet.”

  “I’m Nathan, and this is Denny.”

  Nathan wanted to keep the conversation short to prolong it for windows of opportunity. By giving short answers, he knew Markus would ask more questions.

  Markus continued with his line of questioning. “Where are you guys from?”

  “We’re from southern Illinois.”

  “Curious,” Markus said with a tinge of inquisitiveness.

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, you’re the second person to come through these parts in the last few days that claims to be from southern Illinois.”

  Nathan’s curiosity was now drawn into Markus’s line of questioning, but he maintained his composure and remained silent, hoping to draw out more information from Markus.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be headed to Goose Island?”

  The question surprised Nathan, and his emotions gave him away. He looked at Denny then back at Markus. A telltale sign that Markus was onto something. Nathan collected himself and remained silent.

  “You don’t have to answer that, of course,” Markus said. “Your response to the question told me plenty. Tell me, Nathan …” Markus came to a dead stop in the hallway and turned toward Nathan and Denny. “Do you know a Pastor Rory Price?”

  Nathan wanted to play his cards just right. He still didn’t know anything about Markus and the Syndicate. To reveal too much information could jeopardize his and Denny’s lives by scrubbing out any further usefulness. As long as he and Denny knew things that Markus didn’t, then they stood a chance to survive.

  “I answered the last question,” Nathan said. “How about you answer the next question and then we take turns?”

  “Fair enough,” Markus replied.

  Nathan thought for a moment and realized Markus still hadn’t offered up an answer for his question regarding Markus’s operation. Needing an answer to that, but not desi
ring to waste any questions on trivial issues, he went with, “Is this organization of yours the Syndicate? And how are you affiliated with it?”

  “That’s two questions! But, since I’m the host, I’ll appease you …”

  Markus began his slow walk through the halls of the mysterious building and then began his answer, “The Syndicate was born from the ashes of chaos. After the Flip, food, water, shelter, and other resources that we had once taken for granted became precious resources. We had to find ways to improvise, adapt, and overcome,” he said, looking at Nathan with a half smirk. It might have been considered an ode to Nathan’s survival instincts, if not for his mistrust of Markus.

  Markus continued, “So a means to an end was established. The purpose was to make do with what we had, adapt to that, and overcome our odds.”

  Nathan knew Markus was using his own ethos against him. He could only assume the logic behind it was to get him and Denny to side with him.

  “The Syndicate grew and eventually became too large to conceal from the UN occupants. We learned how to peacefully coexist next door to our enemy. I’ve been a member since the beginning. I’m kind of like an emissary that travels from area to area, establishing new branches of our organization. The goal is to become strong enough to govern ourselves without the fear of foreign involvement; and by foreign, I mean the United Nations or any other foreign occupancy.”

  “And how do you survive? Where do you get your food?” Nathan asked.

  “Not quite so fast,” Markus said. “You haven’t answered my question. Do you know Pastor Rory Price?”

  Nathan was deeply concerned over Markus’s interest in Rory. So he decided to tidy up the answer with a colorful story of his own.

  “Yes, we know Rory. He’s a good friend of ours and a valuable member of our very large group—a group of heavily armed Marines, Army, and militia members from all the area. We were headed to Goose Island when we separated for a separate mission. Now, our group is staging for an invasion of Goose Island, and I can only imagine that by now, it’s set to take it over and then win our freedom back from UN control.”

  “That’s interesting; my sources tell me that Rory was picked up by a convoy of Army personnel. We watched that convoy for some time. They ended up leaving the area together. There no longer in Syndicate territory.”

  Nathan’s heart sank when he heard that Rory and his uncle, Captain Lewis Richards, had left without them.

  “In fact,” Markus added, “my sources tell me that a small group of his friends was captured by the Jackals.”

  Markus stopped in front of a door and then turned towards Nathan and Denny; his focus was on Denny. Denny’s face was black and blue and still puffy in some areas. The Fist had beaten Denny in the face enough to leave evidence for some days to come.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Markus asked rhetorically, looking at Denny.

  “Not so fast,” Nathan said. “What about your food supply? How do you keep your people fed?”

  Markus looked at Nathan, opened the large door and led them up the stairs.

  “We keep our food sources on the tenth floor, Nathan.”

  Markus opened the door at the top of the staircase and walked in. Nathan and Denny followed, with four armed guards still escorting them.

  “I know, I know, it’s a lot to take in, but we have had to improvise, adapt, and overcome,” he said, stepping aside to let them see the populace of men and women. The entire floor was gutted of walls. Men, women, and children were in sleeping bags—wall to wall. The odor was extremely pungent smelling. There was one wall with urinals and toilets. No doubt they all shared that space, too.

  Nathan had a sinking feeling that he had been duped. This is the end, he thought. These people were fodder, and now he and Denny would join their ranks, that was, unless they joined their team.

  “Now, what I don’t want is for you to start a panic,” Markus said. “So I’m going to ask you to step back through the door.”

  Nathan and Denny backed up; both men kept their silence.

  “Let me explain: These people are going to die, regardless. What we do is promise them safety from UN encroachment. We tell them that we have the strength of arms to secure a broadening safe zone and then promise to find them replacement homes. They leave with us peacefully and never return. The people of the tenth floor never know any difference. The tenth floor of every building in our area of operation is occupied just like this; this is how we survive—mice and men.”

  Nathan and Denny were both shocked to hear the depravity. It was far worse than they had seen yet. Nathan was trying hard to think of a way out. The weight of this knowledge was pushing to the front of his processes and he was having difficulty thinking about anything else. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

  “I may be able to adjust to your mode of survival. You mentioned the Jackals. You were right; the Jackals captured me, Denny, and another friend. They killed her, beat him, and made me watch the whole thing. Now, I’m interested in your group, but let me probe your thoughts a little …”

  Nathan was ready to try his hand at manipulating Markus. If he could determine that the Syndicate had legitimate issues with the Jackals, he might be able to provoke him into making a move against them; essentially, he could get Markus to start a gang feud.

  “What if I told you that we’ve been fighting the UN long enough to know that they’re allies with the Jackals?”

  “I would ask you, where do you get such information?”

  “And I would answer, from the Jackals. While we were captive, they explained to us that their affiliations are with the UN. They have a leader that calls himself the Fist, and his allegiance is to the United Nations Muslim commanders.”

  Nathan was mixing lies with truths, hoping to stir an emotion in Markus, anything he could use against him.

  Nathan continued, “Once the Jackals reach their full potential, their goals are to take over America and to create a caliphate out of our country. Where do you think the Syndicate fits into this equation?”

  Markus knew Nathan was right. He had been taking notice of an increasing growth rate of the Jackals’ organization. Fewer European commanders were being seen, and more Middle Eastern commanders were being appointed. With enough time, the Jackals’ population would be large enough to take the area; and with the UN’s military support, commanded by jihadist officers, there would be no stopping them.

  “If what you say is true, we need to work together,” Markus said.

  Nathan wanted to smile, but he knew his smile would give away his deception. “I’m listening.”

  “How big is this force you claim to be a part of?”

  “It’s not a claim—it’s legit. Our numbers have recently increased, and I’m not sure of the exact number anymore, but I’m confident we are several thousand strong, each battle-hardened and well-trained active duty and veterans.”

  Nathan was careful not to reveal any logistics, in part because he was unsure of what the Marine Corps Commandant had in his arsenal.

  Nathan could tell that Markus was deep in thought.

  “Look,” Nathan continued, “if you join me in taking out the Jackals and ousting the UN’s hold over America, your days of eating man flesh will be over.”

  “I’m in, but only if you can prove that your claim is legitimate. I want proof of your group’s existence.”

  “That’s fair,” Nathan added.

  “What do you need?”

  “I’ll need a UN PRC and an officer.”

  Markus looked over to one of his armed guards and nodded his head to him. The man left to do Markus’s bidding.

  “A UN portable radio communications device is easy to snag, but an officer?”

  “They carry a list of frequencies that they use to cycle out old freqs to new ones. If we have an officer, we have communications. On top of that, I know the frequency my group uses. The UN’s been using long-range translators and boosters
of some sort to get their comm out. When I make contact with my people, you’ll have your proof; but be warned, they’re not going to blast their size or strength over the radio.”

  CHAPTER X

  East of Sioux Falls, South Dakota

  The 21st Marine Corps Regiment was six hours into their trip. UN activity on I-90 was minimal. They saw roughly fifteen UN armored troop transports, and each one was attacked and destroyed. Thirty civilian vehicles had joined the convoy and followed in the rear. They were gauged as nonhostile and permitted to follow as long as they didn’t conduct any suspicious behavior. The general had given an order to stop at the next convenient rest area to determine their intentions. He welcomed and encouraged any and all freedom fighters that were brave enough to rally against the enemy. He had determined in his heart that this was the second American Revolution and that it would be recorded as such. As history had always proven, the victors wrote the books.

  Sergeant Banks group was especially tired. They had just traveled to South Dakota only to find out they were headed back. Tori’s confrontation with Buchanan left her a bit irritable. The bumpy ride in the HMMWV wasn’t helping the situation. Her shiny 1911 Smith & Wesson was digging into her skin with each bump in the road. Some of the Marines were picking on her because they could tell she was going through her lady days. She couldn’t wait to reach the rest area.

  When they were far enough on the outskirts of Sioux Falls, the convoy veered off the eastbound I-90 and crossed over the grassy median strip and onto the westbound I-90 to reach the rest stop.