Bill and the Sting of Death

by Gary McPherson

  Bill and the Sting of Death

  Gary McPherson

  Charlotte, North Carolina

  Copyright © 2021 by Gary McPherson

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Thank you to my wife. Thank you for your support over the years, and your editing insights.

  Thank you to Jeffery Harris. You are not only a friend, but a fan. You are a true brother in Christ and a great encourager.

  Thank you to my book and e-book readers

  Thank you to my website readers

  Thank you to my audiobook listeners

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Bill stood looking out his window at the dark storm clouds. His fingertips tapped the top of his putter as he stared longingly at the practice green nestled between the executive buildings in the Ballantyne office complex. Sheets of rain poured from the skies. With a scowl, he slipped his putter back into his golf bag and returned to his desk. Inside the dark office, the glow of the computer screen reflected off his blue eyes.

  He checked his sent messages to confirm his email to the home office in London went as expected. The file sat there with a local timestamp of nine am. It was now two pm, and his bosses in the U.K. would all be on their way home. Bill scowled. No new messages had arrived.

  He leaned back in his chair and put his feet on his desk. He looked up at the ceiling, “Why?”

  His feet hit the floor with a thud. Bill stood, walked back over to the window, and tapped mindlessly against the cold steel frame. Rain blew against the glass from a gust of wind. He turned towards the doorway, took two steps, and stopped himself. Bill returned to his desk and buried his head in his hands.

  “Anything I can do?”

  At the sound of his administrator, Bill looked up and shielded his eyes from a flood of fluorescent light.

  He squinted and waved her over, “Carol, close the door and have a seat. I need some advice.”

  Without saying a word, Carol closed his door and glided along the floor in her four-inch stilettos. Bill admired her dark, firm legs. She had the physique of a runner. Her black eyes met his for a moment. He looked down at his desk.

  She sat down and said, “You don’t want my advice.”

  “Why?”

  “I know this is about Lori.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, you’ve heard?”

  Carol gave a quick wave of her hand, “I’m your administrator. Nothing gets past me; that’s my job.”

  Bill crossed his arms, “Alright, give it to me. What are you thinking?”

  “I think you’re a damn fool.”

  Bill rested his elbows on his desk and leaned closer to Carol, “I’m sorry, what?”

  Carol leaned in towards Bill until their faces were inches from one another. “You heard me. What were you thinking? Dating a subordinate and then getting her knocked up?”

  Bill flopped back in his chair, “It isn’t like that. Besides, who said she’s pregnant?”

  “Please, women know these things. She’s been glowing for weeks, and I don’t mean because of her makeup.”

  Bill cleared his throat, “Who said it’s my kid? I mean, assuming she’s pregnant.”

  Carol let out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sorry, Chief. I see how she looks at you. It’s obvious.”

  “Does anyone else suspect?”

  Carol shrugged, “Just the gossip crowd. I told them they should keep their thoughts to themselves, but you know how much good that does.”

  Bill nodded, stood, and started to pace.

  He asked, “Have you heard from the home office today?”

  “I have.”

  He walked over and leaned against the window pane. “If they went to you instead of me, it can’t be good.”

  “I’m not sure what it is.”

  “Well, give it to me,” responded Bill.

  “I got a cryptic email saying they would be sending a man over to meet with you personally about personnel options.”

  Bill sighed and was quiet for a moment.

  Carol said, “That doesn’t mean you’re fired.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I planned for this.”

  “Is that why you bought that little shack in Stallings?”

  Bill answered, “It’s hardly a shack. That real estate is in a prime location and a great investment. Besides, three bedrooms are plenty for a couple starting out.”

  Carol pointed at Bill’s chair, “Have a seat.”

  Bill walked over and sat down.

  Carol asked, “We’re friends, right?”

  “The closest of friends.”

  “Good. I need to talk to you as your friend.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Carol continued, “I don’t like what Lori has done to you. First, you sell off your condo in uptown Charlotte.”

  Bill interrupted, “Uptown isn’t what it used to be.”

  “Granted, but there’s more. This sudden move to the suburbs among the working class instead of one of Ballantyne’s nicer neighborhoods. I feel like she’s lowering your bar, not raising it.”

  Bill cleared his throat. “It’s like this. I assumed I could lose my job. When you tell your boss that you’ll quit if they fire your fiancée, you don’t really have a bargaining position. We wanted an inexpensive property we could afford and would do well when we sell it later.”

  Carol asked, “What will you do if they fire you?”

  “I’m thinking of day trading. After all, I’ve made other people rich. Why not take my savings and help myself?”

  Carol ran her finger down her partially exposed thigh. “I just feel like you could have done better.”

  Bill raised his eyebrows, “I never thought of you as the jealous type.”

  Carol’s eyes grew wide, and her jawline tightened. “If I wanted you, I would already have you. I, for one, don’t think you should sleep with your boss. At least, not as long as he is your boss.”

  Bill leaned back in his chair, quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t like that. You make her sound cheap. I pursued her.”

  “Oh, so she was the most attractive woman in the office?” asked Carol sarcastically.

  Bill stammered, “No, I mean, well, yes. I’m not sure. Look, you made it clear, hands-off.”

  Carol nodded a couple
of times as she smiled. “I see. So, you were trawling for women at the job like the gossipers say.”

  Bill looked up at the ceiling, “Why?” He looked back at Carol, “Look, I’ve never had a family. Family means more than money or anything else to me.”

  “You’re a successful investor. Women aren’t a problem.”

  “I don’t want women; I want a wife. I want someone who will be my partner, and maybe someday we’ll have kids of our own and raise them together. I realize that sounds a little strange in this place, but you should try growing up as an orphan. Families are more valuable than gold.”

  Carol answered, “So, you couldn’t go to church like every other single person and find yourself a decent spouse?”

  Bill looked down, “What’s wrong with Lori? Besides, I haven’t been to church since I left the orphanage. God hasn’t seemed interested in my life. I prayed for a family day and night. I believed God would give me one. Isn’t that what they teach? Faith like a mustard seed or a little child. Well, I had that and more. Still, nobody ever adopted me. Adam, the administrator, said my birth mother wouldn’t allow it, but if there was a God, it seemed to me that’s a small detail. If he couldn’t find me a family, how can he possibly find me a wife? No, the church isn’t for me, thanks.”

  Carol stood, “Alright, family man. I don’t know who the office is sending, but I wish you luck. Whether you stay or go, I’ll always have your back, and we’re friends forever.”

  Bill stood and quickly made his way around his desk. He gave Carol a long hug. Coconut and vanilla filled his nostrils, and before he could stop himself, he nestled his face into her neck. They stood for several seconds, and Carol finally pushed him back.

  “Take it easy, family man. Your future wife may disapprove if she walks in.”

  Bill protested, “It’s just a hug.”

  “I know, but you have to start thinking about what Lori sees when we’re talking together.”

  Bill pushed his hands through his thick, black wavy hair. Carol opened the door. She gasped, staggered backward, and collapsed on the floor. Bill rushed to the doorway. A man dressed in black with a black ski mask shoved his rifle butt into Bill’s diaphragm without saying a word. Bill fell to his knees, gasping.

  His eyes blurred, and he attempted to lift his head and focus. Another man clad in black stood by Lori in her cubicle down the row from his office, and two more men appeared to be guarding the front entrance.

  The stranger next to Lori spoke with a British accent, “Are you the bloke in charge?”

  Bill’s forearms tingled, and soon his entire body felt like he had stuck his finger in a light socket. Muscles tightened, and vibrated. His vision went black, and a bright light appeared.

  An unseen voice whispered, “Protect the village.”

  The office came into view.

  The assailant beside him hit Bill in the head with his rifle barrel and ordered, “Answer the man.”

  The sharp pain instantly turned into the most pleasurable feeling Bill had ever felt. Bill grabbed the rifle barrel and growled, “Do it again.”

  Chapter 2

  “Let go,” yelled the stranger.

  Bill held tight to the rifle barrel.

  The Brit pulled a pistol, grabbed Lori by the hair, and put the gun to her head. “He said, let it go.”

  Bill released it without saying a word. The Brit said something, but Bill could not hear him over his heartbeat, pounding in his ears. He cocked his head to the right. The Brit tapped his gun on Lori’s head.

  Bill growled, “Let her go.”

  “Oh, tough guy, eh? What’s the matter, is she your pigeon?”

  The stranger looked down at Lori’s hand and noticed the diamond on her right ring finger. He let go of her hair, twisted her hand, and held it up. She let out a squeal.

  Bill snarled, “You’d better not hurt her.”

  “Ah, smart bird, this one. I believe you Americans wear your engagement rings on the left.”

  He let go of Lori’s hand. She cradled it to her chest.

  Bill’s muscles began to coil. He wanted one of the men to make a move, any move. He would kill them all before he was done. “Get out,”

  “All in good time, guv’ner.”

  The Brit shoved Lori into her chair and tapped his palm with his pistol. “First, we’re going to have a little talk.”

  Bill snarled, “What do you want?”

  The stranger laughed, and his men joined in.

  Bill clenched his fists.

  “You need to relax. I have one simple question, where’s Harold?”

  The name seemed familiar, and for a moment, his muscles relaxed.

  Bill asked, “What’s his last name?”

  The rifle barrel whacked him in the head again, and his muscles tightened. He could begin to see the veins in his retinas superimpose on his vision.

  “Stop wasting my time,” demanded the stranger. “You know full well who I’m talking about. Harold Brown.”

  Bill cocked his head to the left, “Parabolic Defense Systems?”

  “The same.”

  Bill’s lips twisted, “Why don’t you call Forbes?”

  Lori spoke up, “How would he know?”

  The Brit turned his attention back to her. “Oh, I forgot about you, bird. I bet you know a lot about your boy’s secrets. Let’s play a little game. You tell me what you know, and I won’t kill you.”

  “No,” growled Bill.

  “Relax,” said the Brit. “This is a straightforward game. I’ll even give your lovey here a few hints. You see, Harold is your fiancée’s brother. My employer needs to meet with him most urgently. It’s a matter of personal importance.”

  Bill spoke up, “I don’t have any family.”

  The Brit replied, “I wish I could believe that. I might have believed you a few weeks ago. Joshua is the sort of man to hide such things, but the situation has changed. We know they’re looking for you. We had a bit of a hard time finding you, what with you moving offices and residences, but here we are. I’m quite certain the government has already found you.”

  Lori interjected, “We don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you are, but you have the wrong man.”

  “I don’t think so,” replied the stranger.

  Bill gasped as he watched the pistol rise. The world turned red, and he reached for the gun barrel of the man beside him. He jerked the assailant to the ground with one fast move. He put his knee on the man’s neck and yelled, “Stop.”

  The Brit’s gun went off and everything slowed down. Bill watched Lori’s head jerk to the side and her eyes become glassy. Bill’s knee drove down into the man beneath him. He felt the spine pop and a smile spread across his own face. Before he could inhale his next breath, Bill was on his feet, and he pulled the dead conspirator into his office. He shut and locked the door.

  Bullets came flying through the drywall, and Bill dropped on top of Carol. He could hear the Brit yelling for them to stop shooting. The room got eerily quiet. He sat up and reached for the rifle. Bill pressed a button behind the trigger, and the magazine dropped on the floor. He picked it up and wrestled it back inside the gun.

  Bill could feel his breathing was starting to become more labored. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The rifle was heavy and Bill laid it across his lap.

  From the other side of the wall, the Brit hollered, “Look, mate. You lost your dove, but you killed my best man. What do you say we start over?”

  Bill focused on controlling his breathing. The room’s colors were starting to penetrate past his red vision, and he could hear his heart beginning to slow.

  The Brit hollered again, “You can’t simply hide in there, and I’ll go away. Hmm, who is the next person I see? Oh, how about this nameplate? Lisa. Bill, come out in two minutes or Lisa’s next.”

  Bill hollered through the door, “Who’s the coward? You’re targeting the women.”

  “What is it you Yanks say? Women and children
first.”

  Bill’s breath became shorter, lighter. The rifle felt like a feather, and the room turned red.

  “Don’t be a bloody fool,” begged the Brit.

  Behind the door, Bill stood silent. Carol moaned and looked up at him. Bill put his finger to his lips. Carol remained still.

  He could feel his breath on the back of his hand that held the rifle in front of him. He could hear footsteps coming towards the door and the Brit’s muffled voice giving orders from Lori’s cubicle. The footsteps stopped in front of the door.

  A howl escaped from Bill’s throat. The door reverberated, the windows behind him shook. His coffee mug vibrated across his desk. He heard Carol’s voice in the distance as he put his shoulder into the door with all his might. Aluminum, steel, and wood splintered with a crash, a screech, and a crack.

  Bill stomped on the man’s throat that lay on the floor in front of him, covered in shrapnel from the door. He quickly raised his rifle and fired before the Brit could get his revolver level. One gut shot sent the man to the ground. Two hot rounds entered Bill’s side and exited out the back. The burning flesh felt good, and he laughed before he could stop himself.

  He turned to find the last assailant running for the door. Bill fired, and a bullet exited the man’s head. The momentum brought his lifeless body to the floor face first.

  The Brit laid moaning on the floor of Lori’s cube. Bill mechanically walked towards the dying killer. He saw the love of his life ashen, her eyes staring into nothing, and pieces of her brain stuck to the metal bookshelf next to her.

  The Brit pulled off his mask and winced as he begged, “Please, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. We were told you were peaceful, compliant. It was only a question.”

  Bill removed the rifle strap from his body, raised the stock over the Brits head, and brought it down with all his might. The skull cracked, and blood sprayed up against Bill. He hit him again and again. Soon, the face was not recognizable, and Bill started on his body. He could feel the ribs crumble beneath each strike. It felt good, right.

  Carol’s pleading, shaking voice could be heard behind him, “Bill, he’s dead. Stop, this isn’t you.”

  Bill stopped. Blood dripped from his nose and lips. His office shirt was soaked in the blood of his enemy. He looked around to find everyone staring in horror, except Carol. She slowly walked up, reached out with shaking hands, and took the rifle from him and gently place it on the floor.