Honorable Assassin

by Jason Lord Case

  Cuthbert tore open the envelope, inside was a printed letter that read, “You have failed again and your life is forfeit.” He swore and ordered three men to remain on the scene and shoot anyone who came near the chest. They were provided with scoped rifles. Someone had the foresight to bring sandwiches and they were left with the men.

  The road the quarry was on was forested on both sides with gullies and streams, requiring bridges. The gangsters heard the explosion that took out the bridge but did not know what it was until the convoy reached the shattered structure. Between the trees and the depth of the gully there was no way around. They were stuck.

  Telephone calls were made. Randy Arganmajc was on the verge of panic. His new bodyguards were with him but the majority of his team was trapped in the wilds. The road was not large enough to accommodate a semi as there was no place to turn one around, so Randy tried to dispatch his short trucks to the area. Unfortunately, in the middle of the day, his trucks were all loaded with merchandise or well out of the area.

  “G-man?”

  “Tarrytown.”

  “The cash truck has been dispatched to the quarry to pick up the men stranded there.”

  “Perfect. Is the load secure?”

  “Yes. Are you in position?”

  “Aye,” MacMaster’s voice reflected his satisfaction.

  “There are two men in the truck. I’m not in it. I’ll see you on the way back.”

  “Perfect.”

  It was three hours before the cash truck hit the half-buried razor strip and blew the two front tires. They were supposed to be able to drive the truck with a puncture, but the damage to the rubber was too extensive. First the driver called in, then he got out to inspect the damage. Terry was not in the van. He and one of the men who usually rode with the shipment had been dropped off in Hill Top, a small town about 20 kilometers away. It changed the operation, but did not cancel it. There was still not enough room for everybody they had to pick up, but it was decided that a guard and a driver should be left with the load. It was against protocol for the guard in the back of the van to exit the vehicle during a breakdown. Any possible repairs were to be done by the driver and the guards were to stay inside.

  The driver never saw it coming. The twin taser leads punctured his shirt and the skin of his back. The voltage seized up his muscles and dropped him to the ground, shaking. Before he could regain the use of his hands they were in handcuffs and his mouth and eyes were covered with duct tape. He never saw his attacker.

  The guard in the bed of the van was on alert but he could not see what was happening outside. He did not know what was happening but he had no problem discerning that the van was filling with smoke. He had no choice but to open the back door and he did so, with his weapon at the ready. He called for the driver but there was no response. He could not stay in the van, the smoke was choking him, even with the door open. His natural reaction was to turn toward the driver’s door when he jumped out. His eyes were burning and he was choking on the smoke, but that did not prevent him from hearing the hammer of a pistol being pulled back. He should have frozen in his tracks but instead, spun around firing his weapon blindly. It cost him his life as Gordon MacMaster was forced to shoot him.

  Gordon stood for a moment looking at the prone form of the guard. He had not wanted to kill him and would not have, given the choice, but the man insisted. The bolt cutters made quick work of the padlock and the cables locking the money bags. Working quickly, MacMaster transferred the cash to a small duffel bag. The securities, checks and bearer bonds were left behind.

  The Jeep Gordon had driven in was two kilometers away. He ran the distance retaining his hat and gloves as he ran. When he reached the vehicle, he was thoroughly soaked with sweat. He had encountered no one on the road.

  The driver had called road services and Dispatch. He had not called Randy Arganmajc or Henry Cuthbert. He didn’t know it was anything but a flat tire. Henry and his crew did not know about the delay until he called Dispatch to find out when they were to be rescued. Dispatch told Henry about the delay and that the tow truck had been sent. The realization that he had been set up twice in one day crashed into his skull like a sledgehammer. He told Dispatch to call the truck and then call back. He called Randy Arganmajc with his suspicions and Randy went wild. Except for some office workers and his bodyguards, his entire crew had been lured into the wilds and neutralized. He began screaming that they should start walking. They needed to get to the truck and secure it. There was no doubt in his mind what had occurred. There was also no doubt as to what the Troy brothers would do to him if he lost the funds being transferred to Sydney.

  Dispatch could not reach the truck and called Henry. When Randy spoke with the dispatcher and found out that two men had been dropped off in Hill Top, he all but reached down the phone line to strangle the man. Then he thought better about it. He called John directly and told him that there had been a robbery and whoever came down the road was the thief. John was a senior guard, sitting in a Hill Top pub with Terry Kingston, having a beer.

  John and Terry ran to the road that led to the quarry. They were both armed and ready for whoever came down the road. Randy had assured them that two professionals would join them with a vehicle. They did not have long to wait before they saw a cloud of dust heading their way. They tried to stop the vehicle, an older jeep, but it would not stop. At the last second it swerved and hit John, tossing him into the brush at the side of the road. Terry let off a couple of rounds to make it look like he had tried to shoot the driver and then he went to minister to John.

  When the Israelis arrived, the ambulance had been there and gone. The police had Thompson Barber in custody as a material witness. He was not charged with a crime so he was not fingerprinted or photographed. He gave his statement, outlining what had happened but he had not seen who was driving the jeep or gotten the license plate number. He explained how they had been diverted from their regular run to pick up some men who had been stranded out in the wilderness, and how he and John had been left in Hill Top to make room for the men. They had been told of a robbery and had taken appropriate action. No, he did not know why the men were down the old quarry road or how they had gotten stranded there. He was careful not to know anything about the money, only that it was picked up regularly in the Capital.

  A pair of constables was sent up the road to look for the security van that should have returned from the quarry. When they reached the van they found it jacked up on the back of a wrecker. The wrecker driver was not the crusty old gentleman that regularly drove that vehicle, and the van was filled with armed men. There was quite a scene, with much noise and invective filling the air. The officers were badly outnumbered but there were no shots fired. They called for backup, all available units and there was a terrible mess to be sorted out. This was complicated by the discovery of the tow truck driver further down the road. He had refused to pick up the van until the police got there because there was a dead body lying behind it. All the men found on the road were arrested with the exception of Terry and John who had been nowhere near the incident. The bodyguards had wisely hung back after calling Henry and finding out what he was doing.

  Randy never knew who it was that called the Troy brothers and alerted them to the situation. It became irrelevant. Randy was summoned to the home of Adam to answer for the mess. While there, he and his remaining bodyguard were given brandy and cigars, sat in comfortable chairs in the library and made to feel at ease. Randy was not able to be at ease, however, he sat on the edge of his chair fearing for his life.

  Adam entered the library with four other men. Each of the men had shoulder holsters filled with pistols.

  Randy glanced at his bodyguard who did not smoke but was sitting back with his brandy in a large snifter. The bodyguard did not seem to be concerned.

  “Mr. Arganmajc, how long have we worked together?”

  “About 15 years now, Mr. Troy.”

  “Fifteen years,” Adam said thoughtfully a
nd then chewed on his lower lip. “And in 15 years we have made some money together, have we not?”

  “Yes, sir. We certainly have.”

  “Do you think this is sufficient reason for me to overlook your recent foolishness?”

  “Mr. Troy, we are under attack, by somebody who is very good at what he does. He has…”

  “Enough! You were hired because you were supposed to be good. Now you tell me that there is someone out there who is better?”

  “No, sir. He is simply good, not better. I will get him and I will strangle the life out of him with my bare hands. You’ll see, there is no place he can hide.”

  “Ah, I see. Then you know who you are looking for?”

  “I will. I have a witness who saw him. I will get him. I had a plan to have him shot but he turned the tables on me. But I have a witness. I will get him. He can’t get away now.”

  “I will give you one more chance to eliminate this man. One more. I have dispatched lawyers to that know-nothing mountain town to secure the release of your men. I expect results and I expect them fast. You have already lost much respect. If I need to talk to you again, your career will be over.”

  Randy left the mansion with his bodyguard driving. He was in a state of aggravation he had not felt since he was a teenager. He knew there was no way he could find the American unless he got more information. He repeatedly asked his driver to check to see if they were being followed and made him drive around several blocks to double check. Then he had him drive to his apartment building. He parked outside with the engine running while Randy went inside. It was not long before Arganmajc reappeared with a suitcase and demanded he be driven to the airport.

  Two hours later, the Israeli bodyguard appeared at the gates of Abel Troy’s mansion with the suitcase in the front seat. Randy was in the trunk.

  ~~~

  Chapter Twelve: The Cost of Survival

  Terry was not comfortable. He was sitting in the passenger seat of a brand new Holden. The two bodyguards had picked him up in Hill Top to transport him back to Sydney. The two men looked as hard as nails and twice as sharp. They said nothing, even when Terry tried to engage them in conversation. They would not tell him their names. A feeling of dread settled over him and he stopped talking. They did not get near the city until after dark and Terry tried to get them to drop him off at a pub but they would not. He knew he was deep in it when they took his pistols and cell phone from him at gunpoint. He had called Gordon when he first knew he was being picked up but the Scot was too far away to help and Terry had not thought he needed it.

  The three men entered the Adam Troy compound. There was a stark contrast between the men charged with protecting the real power and the men conducting business on the streets. Inside the compound were the professionals. They had the same dispassionate look as the Israelis. All three men were escorted to the library where they were joined by both Abel and Adam Troy. The ex-Mossad men spoke familiarly with the heads of the Australian crime syndicate as if they had known each other for many years. This did nothing to allay Terry’s fears. The only thing that did make him feel any better was when he heard them say no, he could not have had anything to do with the hijacking. He was in Hill Top at the dispatcher’s insistence.

  Until this point, Terry had not been placed in restraints. He was not exactly free, however. They had some sort of plan for him that did not involve his free will. Their intentions became more and more plain as time went by. From the library he was led, at gunpoint, into the basement. If there had been a second when he was not under scrutiny he would have bolted, but there was not. The bodyguards watched him like hawks. Through a steel door in the basement was a tiled room lit with fluorescent tubes. The drain in the middle of the floor told the tale. The third of the bodyguards was in this room standing watch over Randy Arganmajc who was strapped to a steel chair. There was no second exit from this room.

  When he asked the question, “What is going to happen to me now?” he did his best to sound terrified. It was not a difficult thing to do given the circumstances.

  “Do not worry, Mr. Barber, your task is simple.” Adam Troy’s words were far from soothing.

  “Look. I had nothing to do with this affair. I wasn’t even in the truck. Dispatch told me and John to get out in Hill Top to leave room for more men from down that road. I don’t know why he did that. I heard about the robbery and tried to stop the thief. If he swerved left instead of right I’d be in the hospital or dead and John would be… uh, here.”

  “Then John would have the opportunity of reporting what is done here. You must understand, Mr. Barber,” Adam continued, “There are certain principles which must be followed in all businesses. Have you gone to college?”

  “No.” Terry’s throat was dry to the point of cracking and his voice reflected it.

  “Please, give our guest some water. He is dry.” Abel Troy seemed no more affected by the situation than his brother. It was as if they were playing a scene in a play and the curtain was going to close so they could go home. Neither of them seemed to feel there was anything out of the ordinary here. It was just another day to them. Their nonchalance made the scene all the more horrible.

  Adam started up again after Terry had cleared his palate. “All men should go to college. It is where learning begins.”

  “I could…” Terry stumbled, not knowing where the conversation was leading.

  “No, say nothing. Is it better to be loved or feared?”

  Terry said nothing as he had been instructed.

  “I’ll tell you we decided years ago that it is better to be feared. But, we are not here for philosophical discussions, are we? Fasten our young friend to this chair so he has a good view of the show. You must understand, Mr. Barber, that without witnesses, an event can only be speculated on. With a witness it can be elaborated on. We have found it quite effective to allow members of our organization to experience the effects of desertion and betrayal in a vicarious fashion so they may communicate the nature of it to their friends. It served to keep our attrition rate to a minimum in the past. Very few love us, though.”

  Terry was strapped to a matching metal chair and the surgical table between Randy Arganmajc and himself was wheeled out of the way so he had a clear view. He heard the door open behind him but could not see who had entered until the man came around him. The small man wore a surgical mask and cap on his head but the rubber apron and gloves were more telling. He said nothing, just pointed to both Terry and Randy. The bodyguards set him straight, telling him that the subject was the older man.

  The sharp, glittering eyes of the torturer would haunt Terry’s dreams for weeks. What Terry had done to Bradley was nothing compared to what he saw done that day, in the basement operating room. The man in the rubber apron went to work gleefully and with flair. Terry was reminded of Ginger’s words, “Don’t get too attached to that feeling. That path leads to madness.” It was obvious that madness had taken this one.

  The bodyguards left the room when the torturer went to work. Terry supposed that the Troys had already left. Terry could close his eyes and turn his head but did not. Here he was, being forced to watch the torture and mutilation of the man he had vowed to destroy, at the hands of two more men he had vowed to destroy. The only rain on this parade was the fact that he was strapped to a chair and might be next.

  The small torturer made wide, sweeping gestures, playing to his audience as if he were on stage in a musical. His tools were kept in a leather roll and he removed them theatrically, sharpening some of them, reverently, before he used them. And no stage was ever more blood soaked. The victim screamed and pleaded to no avail.

  If Randy Arganmajc had survived his ordeal he would have been unable to live with the visage left to him. He had been a dashing, man-about-town, a role one could not fill when one’s facial features were missing. The torturer had cut off his ears, his nose, his lips and one of his eyes. Randy began pleading for death, knowing it was coming and wanting it more than he
wanted to live. Apparently there was nothing more he could say because his tongue was next.

  Despite the supposition that Randy had ordered his father killed, Terry could only enjoy so much of this. It was not designed to kill the man being tortured; it was designed to terrify the man watching. It had been a long-standing policy for the Troy brothers that if a man is to be tortured, there must be witnesses who can disseminate the methods and madness to the rest of the crowd. It had worked well for many years but there was a limit. Before long, Terry began to ask that the man simply be killed. He should have kept his mouth shut. The torturer reveled in the attention and began to dance as he dissected his victim. The glee in his eyes was more revolting than the mutilated body of his victim. Terry would have killed this psychopath gladly, had he been allowed to. He would have killed Randy just to end the man’s pain. He actually began to feel sorry for the man he had been plotting to destroy.

  When his victim passed out from pain and loss of blood, the torturer whimpered in his throat, the only sound he had made during the entire operation. He threw a pitcher of water on him but could not revive him. He stepped back and cast his glittering eye on Terry. It was that look that haunted Terry’s dreams, that feral blood lust. He took a step toward the younger man and stopped when a speaker in the ceiling crackled and a man’s voice told him to keep his distance. Somebody was watching from a remote location, a guardian angel in a pit of Hell.

  Terry was removed from the room and taken to a shower before the torturer was finished with Randy. He had been covered with sweat and the dust of the road and it was cathartic to stand in the hot deluge. His thoughts were spinning madly. Torture was something he accepted as a necessary evil, but he had never actually seen anything like tonight’s performance. He was horrified and fascinated, revolted and terrified. His resolve began to waver until he realized that it was the will of the brothers that he be broken by the sight. It was their desire that he become so concerned with what might happen to him that he remain loyal forever.