Justifiable Homicide

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  Joy said, “Never mind the hospital senator, we are going for a ride to the south”

  “What is this all about,” he said with eyes of terror and almost running the stop light. “Do you know who I am? I’m a senator and no matter what you intend, your lives are not worth spit if you think you can kidnap me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, ex senator who likes little boys to play with. Now drive perfect and follow the freeway south out of town or I’ll shoot you in your balls.” The senator did what he was told and thirty minutes later they were cruising down the freeway with Pect not far behind. A rest area sign appeared and she told him to take the exit and park where it was a little private as she had some things to discuss with him. After parking some distance from the restrooms with Pect blocking the view from the building, Joy said, “Why is it you sick fucks like to play with little boys dicks and then shove your sick dick up their asses. You have two minutes to tell me before I shoot you first in the balls and then in the head.

  The ex senator started crying and pleaded with her to let him live. “I can’t tell you why I like the little boys, but I just do.” Joy had enough of him and with her silenced pistol, shot him in the head after she yanked him away and down from the window so as not to splatter blood all over. To leave a calling card she unzipped his pants and hauled out his dick placing it in his hand. Joy still had her gloves on and in no hurry opened the door and got in next to Pect. Both thought it would be about ten hours before they found him holding onto his dick dead as a child molester should be. They rode in silence and listened to the radio for a few miles and then Pect looked at her and smiled. Both realized a team had formed and both loved the thought of being together.

  29.

  The senator was found much earlier than Joy or Pect thought. By the six o’clock news it was splashed across America. A special session of the senate was called for tomorrow to discuss what happened and why. Speculation flew like a flock of geese headed south for the winter. The word vigilantly was on everyone’s lips as now the media had put the pieces of the puzzle together from Miami, Seattle, LA, Dallas, Wisconsin, North Carolina and now Vermont. Anyone feeling guilty stayed home or called in sick from work. Politicians found excuses to take a vacation; drug dealers went to great lengths to peddle their wares and major drug lords pulled in their horns and delegated to underlings.

  The FBI was on the hot seat as well as every police department across the nation. From the top down pressure was applied and in meeting after meeting cops everywhere held grim faces, but underneath smiled that the fear of god was in the bad guys. In some cases sympathizers took advantage and whacked a few drug dealers blaming it on the group of vigilantes. All of the VO group held stoic faces behind the scenes, but inwardly praised the effort of awareness that the system was failing the public.

  Number One decided to let it cool off for a few weeks and sent an e-mail to Toni to pass the order to take a break for a bit. Toni passed on the orders and everyone laid low for awhile. However, Toni took the opportunity to dig on Peter Holmes as she sent him an e-mail.

  For Peter he’d not had a good day or days for that matter. Ever since his Monday morning meeting with his boss, after Peter told him about the clandestine e-mail from an unknown sender, had been on the hot seat. His boss had told him that was the only link to this vigilante organization they had and why hadn’t he come up with a plan to trap this sender. Peter had no excuse except that was one reason he was telling him now. His boss said, “Peter I want you and a few of our special agents to have a meeting to snare this sender and then we have something to work with.”

  “Sir, whenever you call the meeting I’ll be there, but we must be careful not scare the person off. I think it is a she and I’ve been running a search on known computer hackers, but haven’t hit on one yet. The good ones we have shut down or are employed so consequently we don’t have many to look at. This is a cut above the normal hacker and I need some more time to set it up.”

  “Fine, and keep me updated the minute something new comes in.” And that was last Monday and now he sat at his desk on a Wednesday when his chat mate came on with a mail for him. He read with interest: “Peter, ole friend. The senator liked little boys and I hope you weren’t one of them. Soon the country will be behind us and your govt. sleuths will only keep beating your heads against the wall on this one. I believe if you check on up the ladder you will find one of your own on this list of lushes who has skated under the system of the rich or famous slipping through the cracks.”

  Peter was in shock. Someone in the FBI; he dug into the files with a vengeance seeing if anyone high up had skated on a drinking and driving charge. First he checked his system and went to the local police, state police, and county and after exhausting the search, decided it had been purged if it was ever there in the first place. Peter sat back with his hands locked behind his head thinking what to do next. Finally he decided to send an e mail back to his tag mate and asked it for more information on the ‘ladder’ clue. While he sent it out his phone rang and it was Sandy wanting to know if he had lunch yet. He told her no and how about they meet for a pizza at a restaurant they both knew about. He agreed.

  Sitting eating pizza and a pitcher of coke, Peter told her of the mail from his tag mate and the possibility someone higher up got off on a drunken driving charge that may or may not included a fatality. Sandy was all ears and quietly asked him if he checked the system and Peter looked at her with a frown. “Of course you did. Sorry. I lost my head for the moment.”

  “Never mind, it’s just that it would be amazing if someone hit one of our guys for one reason or another.” He held a half eaten pizza two inches from his lips and then a flash hit him like a thunderbolt. His boss, it was rumored was going to AA and about a year ago, if memory served him correctly, his boss took an unexpected vacation for about three weeks.

  Sandy noticed his pizza was hanging by a thread and about to fall when she said, “Hey Sherlock, your pizza is about to mate with your tie.”

  Peter, back now, ignored the Sherlock tag and said, while setting the pizza on his plate and wiping his hands on a napkin, “I was just thinking about my boss and wondering if it could be him.” And then he went on to tell her the story he’d heard and wondered if it could be true that the e-mail was telling him close to home. Sandy, her turn to sit there with open mouth and a half eaten slice of pizza and said nothing.

  30.

  In Miami Number One sat thinking at his desk about the news stories and the fall out surrounding the national news. The FBI director was on the hot seat as well as the NSA. So far the CIA was not involved, but he figured it wouldn’t be long before they raised their ugly heads. In every major city spin offs of vigilante acts were on the rise and neighborhood gangs were even hiding these days. As a matter of fact, crime now was the major issue of politicians around the country as November elections were coming for most states.

  Number One sent a message to Toni with jobs for each hit team starting on Monday next. On his list was a judge who gave out too many soft sentences in Chicago; a CEO of a major corporation in San Francisco; and a Port Authority dock manager who turned a blind eye to drugs coming into New Orleans. Brian Refuta would take New Orleans; Robin Eggar the San Francisco guy; and Joy and Pect the Chicago judge.

  Toni acknowledged the mail and sent out the mail to the others for their assignments. She checked to see if Peter had returned her mail and sure enough his short message appeared in her hacked mail box. Toni was slick at using other e-mails for unsuspecting internet users. It would be a fluke if someone found a mail from Peter in their mail box. What she did when sending a mail out was use a random e-mail and then delete the sent message from their ‘sent’ file. Coming back in was not a problem as after the first few sent to Peter, now she used overseas mail while people slept. She smiled thinking about Peter’s note asking for more information. She decided to give him a little hint and sent it off this time using an e-mail user from India.

 
; By six pm Peter was exhausted from both work and worry. He liked his boss and no way did he want to hear or read that he’d had an accident and killed someone or maimed them for life. He was about to shut down for the day when a mail signal alerted him to an e-mail. The message was short, but not sweet: “You only have to look up, but it will not be God you see but someone a lot closer than Him.” Peter leaned back and all the air went of his lungs. Now what do I do, he thought. Do I warn him or drop some hint that maybe he is a target. My god what a can of worms and maybe it was time for Peter to grow up and confront his boss and mentor. They were not close, quite the contrary, but they had a good working relationship.

  Peter thought of his boss’s family. Married for god knows how long, three kids all grown up with two still in college and the other married with a good job making the parents proud with their first grandchild. However, he had a drinking problem as on more than one occasion he smelled booze on him if they had an afternoon meeting. Most drinkers think you can’t smell vodka, but that is simply not true. Peter could smell it a mile away and when his boss was sucking on mints, it made the smell even worse.

  Peter picked up his phone and called his boss. He had a feeling he was gone for the evening as most days he left by five. His thoughts were confirmed when all he got was his voice mail. Finally Peter decided to let it develop and went home with a heavy heart wondering if he would be having a new boss shortly. At the exit of the building he buttoned up his over coat as the snow was falling turning everything a yellow white from the street lights. Walking down the steps and then turning right to find his car in the parking lot, a horn honked and a car pulled over to the curb with the passenger window coming down.

  Peter couldn’t have been more surprised as it was his boss telling him to get in. Peter quickly got in with snow still riding his head and shoulders. It melted quickly as it ran down his face like tears. His boss said, “Peter I’m in trouble. I received an e-mail warning me that I must pay for my past mistake. I’m telling you now because if something does happen to me, my family needs to know I’m not really a bad person. I made a giant mistake about a year ago. Yes, I have a drinking problem, but since then I’ve not had a drink and AA and their program has worked wonders. Be that as it may, I crippled a woman on a hit and run. Someone got my license number of the company car and when the police found out I was an FBI special agent, quietly visited my house like it was a social call. My family thought it was business so they never suspected. To make a long story short, the lady forgave me and I paid the bills along with a stipend every month.”

  Peter with his mouth hanging slightly open felt pity for both him and the victim. Peter wiped the melted snow off his face and started to say something when his boss raised his hand to stop him saying, “Peter, I can’t make the payments anymore to the nice lady. Two kids in college and my salary doesn’t stretch that far. I need to ask you a favor and hope you will agree to do this for me and my family. I want you to e-mail your tag person and have they put a hit on me,” he let that sink in all the while watching Peter’s face for a sign of acceptance or rejection.

  Peter didn’t know how to react to this information as now he knew they had already put him on the list and now his boss was asking to be put on the list. Strange things that was almost too much for him to digest. Logic said to do as he asked as that would take care of the situation, but how would the victim receive her monies due? He said, “If I agree to do this, how would your victim receive payments after you are gone?”

  “I already told my wife and she will, with the life insurance make sure the lady gets her money,” as his boss hung his head on his chest. Peter saw the snow building on the sidewalk and melting on the hood of the car. The wipers were intermittently swiping the snow off the windshield while a thought formed in Peter’s head. Maybe this is the opportunity I’ve been looking for, he thought. Maybe I can convince the e-mailer that I’m with them and set my boss up for an easy hit. It would be risky as hell, he thought, but maybe it’s worth it to stop these people from taking the law into their own hands.

  “Sir, I will do this for you. I’ll send a mail to them telling how I will assist in setting you up for a hit. I’ll let you know what happens when I hear back from them. I’m very sorry for you and family and one mistake shouldn’t ruin our lives, but in some cases it does.” Peter reached out and shook his hand while the other hand opened the door letting white miniature clouds floating around and Peter wondered if a person actually went to heaven, would he see clouds like these on his way? Probably not, as he shut the door on his boss, most likely for the last time.

  31.

  Joy and Pect were lounging around a high rent hotel in Philadelphia when mail arrived notifying them of the Chicago judge hit. The bio followed and both of them lying on the bed read the information on a judge who lived the good life paid off by lawyers whose clients fed off the best restaurants in town, not to mention the perks such as girls whose services topped four figures a night. Joy said, “This disgusts me. These fucks think they live in a different world than the rest of us. Look at this. I know Chicago and he lives in the best part of town probably with a view of the lake. No doubt his wife has two yappers running around with bows in their hair and toe nails painted. I wonder how much a dog trim is these days.”

  “Jesus Joy, take it easy. This is a job and let’s not take it personal. Let’s just off the guy move on towards retirement.” Pect was going over the information carefully. He was cautious and always careful. Taking chances was dangerous as hell and likely meant not living much longer. He said, “If we take him out at home, and if what you say is true where he lives, we have to be very careful not to be seen or heard. You got an ideas in that pretty head of yours?”

  “Ya maybe. It says here his birthday is coming up in a week or so. How about we pretend the boss downtown sent a limo for transportation to a breakfast meeting. You could be the chauffer and I could be his breakfast. I will wear an overcoat with only a pasty on my tits and a thong for his delight. I’ll flash him and you hold the door open for him. I will play with his dick while you drive us to a waiting rental car. I’ll use a knife in my overcoat and stick it in his heart. I don’t want any blood on me. You will wear gloves of course and now how do we get a limo?”

  “Easy. We order one for a birthday and leave the guy in the truck and I drive.”

  “I think we have something here and let’s go over it again and again. And while we are at it, show me your dick,” as she jumped on top of him laughing and grinding her hips into his steroid member. “By the way train travel is really nice and we could get a sleeping berth from her to Chicago.” Pect was whispering to her all the while chewing tenderly on her ear.

  Peter was in a dilemma. Not only what he was doing went totally against his grain, but he felt drawn to carry out his boss wish. Peter fingered his keyboard at his computer and as if his hand had a mind of its own, in no time he had his tag mate e-mail address staring at him waiting for him to contact her. Peter straightened his shoulders and began typing. He asked her, he was sure now it was a girl, if they wanted some help with a hit on a high ranking FBI man who they already knew as a possible mark to redeem justice for his misdeed. One thing he added was he would like to meet his tag mate and discuss the future as he was with them all the way endorsing their movement. To Peter it sounded weak and not professional. But maybe she would nibble on his fish hook and let’s see what happens. He sent it off and called it a day.

  Toni was on the computer when she got Peter’s mail. She read it carefully and immediately went on the alert. No way, she thought, is this guy a turn coat. Everything she read about him led her to believe he had the English stiff upper lip and always placed his hand over his heart when the Star Spangle Banner was played. However, let’s play along and see where it leads, she thought. She mailed him back asking for details to who the guy was and any and all information he might have if he really wanted to put a hit on this guy. She too sent it off and called it a day.


  32.

  Lying on the bed Joy and Pect went over the plan to hit the judge. The judge was turning sixty and that should be reason enough for a limo to pull up in front of his house to pick him up. Tomorrow was the day and they ordered the limo pick up at their off the beaten track of high rent hotels at seven am. Previously they had information he left home at eight most mornings and it was only a half hour drive from where they were to N. Lakeshore Drive. It was apparent to Joy and Pect that the judge lived way over his meager salary having a home on Lakeshore Drive. No matter, this was his last night of luxury living. Tomorrow he would be seeing the gates of hell on his birthday.

  So as to not leave a trace of them whether a record at the hotel or the limo company, the day before they left a hefty cash deposit by a well disguised Pect at their office. When they checked in at the hotel their bags were empty and no prints would ever be noticed or found. Someone who cleaned the room would find and no doubt quietly take them into their own possession. Their clothes for the job and afterwards, were packed in a carry bag seen when shopping at a mall. In Joy’s small bag a long bladed stiletto knife lurked as that was her weapon of choice.

  Now they waited just inside the hotel lobby for the limo to pick them up. It was right on time with a young college looking guy grinning ear to ear while he held the back door open for them. Joy with her overcoat on slipped into the back and Pect sat in the passenger seat all the while explaining the upcoming surprise birthday party for an important politician. Pect was dressed causal with a beard and ski hat on as it was a cold snowy day in Chicago. Later when the police questioned him after they found him in the trunk, gave a poor description of the two perps who murdered the judge.