Tanner stood shivering outside the meeting church as cars rolled away, her presence undetected and silent as she flipped her hood up and walked briskly through the darkness.
“There you are, you son of a bitch. You should have stayed home.” She said to herself, palming the syringe of tranquilizer with a discreet little hop, she struck like a snake in the night, wrestling her target to the ground and dragging him into the brush where she had the wheeled dolly from Mike’s plumbing van, good and ready.
Damien woke in the gray room of the dentist’s office, ziptied hands and feet to the moveable dentist chair.
“What is this?” he asked as a pale white face appeared from the shadows, red and black geisha themed, with the additional skull details and a dead solemn look on Tanner’s face.
“Damien Baker, you have made mistakes.” she said without her usual joyful excitement and background mood music.
“Tanner, I don’t understand, what is this, blackmail, interrogation?”
“You know what this is, Damien. You didn’t leave me much choice." She said, flipping out her freshly re-sharpened Stabby friend.
“The fuck is this outfit, you trying to scare me off, girl I already forgot about you and moved on to bigger problems that a hooker with a few counts of rapist murder. I don’t care about that, I’m not after you. There’s a much bigger problem than you understand.”
“Why were you at the meetings? You’re after the preacher, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not. I’m not following you either; I don’t care about your shit. I got big time hit men, and I’m so close to cracking this case wide open. You think I give a damn about you and your friend? This is the organization I’ve been after for years. The Molotov brothers killings, the dead officers, the magnesium killer, the back seat driver, Lakeshot, they could all be part of this one group and that’s all I care about. I swear. One old killer is something I can let go, one hooker, you two could just retire and I'd never say a word. I want the group.”
“You see, that’s the problem. I've tried to tell you. They’re all Preacher Mike. Every one you listed off. You’re chasing one man, and he’s MY man. You could have just left after he warned you, but you had to go after your group of killers.”
“No, you don’t understand, This AA group is mostly assassins and serial killers. I have 21 different cases nobody believes are even connected, and they’re all part of the damn church meeting, you’re in over your head.” he warned.
“No, Damien, YOU are. You really never made the connection to the unsolved hitman cases?” she said holding up Rachel, unscrewing the barrel insert and placing it down next to the others on the dentist tool tray, placing a magnesium round on his chest as he slumped back and looked defeated. "Honey, they're almost all just Mike. Most of those kills, the ones you know were deserved that you've obsessed over. All Mike. Every one of them he did alone. He really IS Lakeshot. I've seen the gun he used and the tungsten bullets. You barked up the wrong tree." she sighed.
“Fuck. You’re not gonna let me leave here alive, are you?” he asked, trying to stay strong and collected, and assess the situation.
“I can't let you arrest my Mike. Now you finally meet the Murder geisha, or as you INSIST on calling it...” she said rolling her eyes. “The Decatur Decapitator” she said mockingly. “Like really? That’s just lame. I only cut the second guy’s head off. One guy. I worked hard on this persona, the whole avenging lady of the night with weeb themed weaponry, and it takes a long time to do this makeup. Nobody even mentions that in the papers. Frankly, I’m insulted you never believed it was me alone. You never thought I had the balls to kill without hand-holding, let alone multiples. And you underestimated Mike... But I love him, and half the killers you INSIST on taking down, are him. He’s a good guy, he's doing the cop’s jobs for them, cleaning up the real evil fuckers, and you can’t let a cold case stay cold, you just keep showing up. You are forcing him to defend himself and I know Mike, he’ll feel guilty and horrible about killing you, but he will because you’re after me too. Someone has to stop you and I don’t want a good man to have to lose sleep because he killed what he says is just a good cop doing his job in the wrong place at the wrong time... because of me. So I’m taking care of it myself. Don’t act like you didn’t use me to get to him before. Blackmailing a girl over murder charges to bring in a preacher just doing HIS job.”
“I swear. I’m out. I’ll quit my job, I’ll move out of state, I’ll drop all of this.” He pleaded.
“Not good enough. I know you better than Mike does. You tamper with evidence, you lie, you cheat to get your way. Your own wife can't even trust your word. I can’t trust your silence and that you WON’T talk, unless you just…CAN’T talk. Damien, you did this to yourself. We have a higher purpose here, he believes in something you don’t, and that’s what is right for the world, despite the broken laws and the bullshit rules the cops enforce when they want. He gets his orders from something bigger than us. And he’s Mine. I claimed him, I’ll die or kill for him, and luckily it’s the second one I’m good at. Now normally I really enjoy this part, the mind-fuckery before the cutting starts telling you your sins and why you deserve to die for what sick evil you’ve done to make yourself my prey, preying on whoever you have, but this time just sucks for everyone because you’re not really evil. This isn’t righteous and fun, it’s just... necessary. A lesser of two evils. His life or yours. The choice is simple, so you can be relieved I won’t be torturing you like the others. You know what, you get a choice, Bucky. Stabby-stabs, gun shot to the head, or lethal injection?” she asked.
“I can’t do that.” He said, sighing in defeat. “I can’t…tell you how to kill me.” He said, welling up sadly. “The fucked up part is I can’t decide if I feel worse for my wife or Gina, which one this will devastate more.”
“Oh the wife, I'm sure. I don’t know her, but I assume she loved you at some point and still might have some feelings left. Gina sold you out to the group. They were gonna kill you anyway. I’m doing you a favor. Some of those assholes are really off in the head. Blondie skins people alive, you know the quiet Russian guy is into some dark kink shit.”
“Says the girl who slashes and murdered 6 people.” He chuckled, a tear running down his face.
“Rapists and kiddie-diddlers, dude. They deserved the wrath of Stabby. Don’t act like I just killed random hobos and shoplifters. These people should have been in prison for life, but they either got let go by the system as informants, or given a few years and released on good behavior. You’re the first person with a soul, I’m gonna have to kill. And you just left me no better choice. Lethal injection, broken heart, or firing squad, seriously, I don’t have all day, I gotta dispose of your body and make it look like a robbery. You’re not a lightweight person, Dead people are hard to move. Pokey-poke, sleepie-time or instant domesplat?” come on, chop-chop. Don’t make me roll dice.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He muttered, tugging on the zipties one last time.
“Any last words?” she asked, cocking the HK and pointing the silencer at his face.
“Can’t tell my wife I’m sorry and I miss her. Not gonna let me die on my feet like a man. I guess I’m just sorry. I’m sorry you got caught up in everything, and I’m sorry I used you to get to Mike. I’m sorry for whatever childhood lead you to this kind of life, because you could have been something better. Shoot me.”
“I’m kinda sorry, too.” She sighed, pulling the trigger and silencing him with a flash and a light pop. “But shit happens and we move on. You fucked with my Mikey. That’s your choice, not mine. Bye Damien.” She yawned almost casually. “God, this was just no fun at all. I don’t even really wanna stab you.”
The plastic lawn bag flopped down near the water’s edge as tanner sighed and brushed her hands off.
“Thanks for the help.” She said, smiling sadly up at Carl, who was sipping some coffee. “I didn’t wanna ask Mike, but body disposal isn’t really my thing. I like to leave a crime scene with a message to it. This one has to look like a mugging gone wrong or something. Don’t tell Mike.”
“Oh, I won’t, it’s chill. Gutsy move though, taking a cop, alone. Even if he was on your ass, that’s hardcore. A 32 to the head, 4 shots down, neck shoulder, chest. Good pattern though. Looks like a panic mag dump instead of a pro headshot. Gloves, hair up, good work. We’ll just leave him here.”
“Not used to body disposal either hu? You look nervous or just grossed out. I figured you’d be more used to it.” she said, growing suspicious.
“It’s not that. I just hate the next part. Feel really gross about it.” he said, drawing his VZ68 Skorpion from his back holster and pointing it at her.
“What the fuck?” she nervously giggled. “Don’t point that at me. That’s not funny. That’s a real gun.”
“I know. And just like you, I have to do something I don’t wanna do, but shit happens. I’m supposed to take you in alive, bring you to Catherine’s warehouse as bait for the preacher. She wants him alive, but she knows none of us have the balls to bring him in breathing, so…you’re the bait.” Carl shrugged.
“Carl, you better be joking right now. Say It's a prank, bro. Gun's not loaded, Serial killer prank, lol.” she glared angrily.
“Dead serious. They’re waiting for me to confirm I have you restrained and in custody. The thing is, I can’t do it. I kill people who are suffering and dying anyway, That’s different. This is fucked up and wrong. They’re gonna torture and kill you both, just because he’s a threat to her, and she can’t face him herself. Some chicken shit stuff. Really, just stabbing someone in the back for no reason. Then again, if I refuse to do it, they’re gonna hunt me down and kill me. So that sucks for me.” he explained.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“So you’re gonna try and take me alive, shoot me in the leg or expect me to just go willingly?” she asked, teeth gnashed with rage and betrayal.
“No. I’m gonna give you a fair warning and tell you to unload that HK so you don’t shoot me. Clear the gun, and then when you're disarmed, and you can’t put one in my back, I’m gonna turn it, and you’re gonna get the hell out of here. I’m gonna dose myself with the tranquilizer, light dose, lock the van, and when I wake up I’m gonna tell them you did it and got away. Then I’m getting the hell out of the state and finding a new place to live because they may not believe me, or just kill me for doing a bad job. I’m not getting killed over this, but I’m not bringing you in to get tortured and killed. So you should really move fast, you’ll be on foot and unarmed. They will go after you.” He said, taking out his little boot pistol. “Now toss the magazine my way.”
“You’re telling me to escape and defend myself with an unloaded gun?” she asked.
“Hey, you can still bluff with it if they don’t know it’s unloaded. You’re not stopping them with a handgun anyway if they catch you, and if you shoot me for this, I’m the dipshit for trusting you. Again, I’m not getting killed for you, I’m just giving you a chance to run and survive. We’re all probably fucked here. Don’t freak out…” he said, firing 2 shots into the tree next to her. “Now it looks like I tried to shoot you at least. Run bitch. Run your ass off and get to Mike before they get to you. I’m out of this shitshow.” He said waving the gun to motivate her.
“I guess, thank you?” she pondered.
“Don’t, just run.” He sighed as she turned and took off, expecting a bullet in the back at any moment as Carl stood there and popped a fresh piece of gum, still pointing the 9mm at her as she escaped. He pushed the body off the side of the bank and into the river, getting out the syringe. He locked the door to the van and fell backwards, trying to decide what angle to best stick himself, going for the left shoulder.
Catherine woke up to the sound of her phone going off. She checked the number and sighed with annoyance.
“This better be important.” She said as Carl huffed, out of breath.
“I fucked it, Tanner knows something’s up.” he lied.
“Define exactly what that means, Carl.” She growled.
“She killed a cop and I helped her dispose of the body down by the river. I saw an opportunity, but I couldn’t call for backup in time. I was gonna dose her after we dumped the cop, bring her in Mike’s plumbing van. I don’t know how she knew something was off, but I grabbed her, she got the syringe and stuck me in the neck. I put 2 rounds at her feet and missed, blacked out, woke up just now. It’s been 30 minutes or so, she’s long gone and probably back to Mike’s house. I think she's still armed. I’m so sorry. She’s faster than she looks, and I’m used to dosing old folks that don’t see it coming, or want to struggle.”
“I’m amazed you’re still alive.” She said skeptically. "Tanner seems like the kind to shoot you for that, steal your guns, and take the van. Shocked, she just left it."
“Yea me too. I guess when your gun's still holstered and someone shoots at you with a machine pistol, some people just run. I told you I wasn’t right for this job.”
“You let a hundred pound girl overpower you and stick you with your own syringe?” Catherine barked.
“Hey, she's fast and a stabber. Do you wanna take a dose of this shit and see how well you do? I got 2 shots off, I may have clipped her. She knew I was gonna double-cross her, someone tipped her off, or you got a bug in the church. She saw it coming, and I wasn’t expecting her to turn around and fight back. My targets never do that. You should have had Deacon do it.”
“Deacon has the charisma of Jason Voorhees. He would have never got close. She liked you. That’s why I had your stupid ass do the job, and apparently botch it.” Catherine barked.
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m just a trophy vulture who likes to watch the life leave people’s eyes. I’m a quiet dose serial killer with too many guns, not a pro, not a snatch and grab guy. I told you I wasn’t right for it. I took care of Portland, I underestimated Tanner.” He said
“What about Mike? What kind of support and firepower does he have?”
“He never would say, he just said he has connections and tools for the jobs. They guy is cryptic as hell. I’m gonna get out of town before he comes looking for my ass.”
“I figured you might botch this. That’s why I bugged her purse with a tracker at the meeting. Deacon will do the job for you. He can handle Mike.”
“Hope so, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” he said, hanging up. He sighed and checked the van for hidden guns before starting the engine and dialing another number. “Pick up the phone, Mike.” He said as the ringing stopped. “Shit. Maybe you are blessed, Preacher. Listen carefully, there’s no time to dick around if you want tanner to live. I just put a target on my own back to save her life when I was ordered to bring her in as bait. So you’re gonna do that preacher forgiveness thing and believe me when I say I’m sorry, and I had no choice, and in return I’ll tell you what’s about to drop on you two.”
“I’m listening Carl. Tell me where Tanner is, and if she’s safe and alive, I’ll forgive you. If not, you need to start praying, because even if God himself says to spare you, if she dies, you do too. Talk.” He said alarmingly calm as he grabbed his guns and started loading magazines.
“She’s alive and unharmed and on her way to you, unless Deacon got to her first. I didn’t know they had a backup plan in case I screwed up. I stole your van, but I left you a present in your truck, you’re welcome. I’m headed to Canada. Hit South 51 and look for Tanner on foot. If they get to her first they’ll call YOU with the address, it’s a trap, but you have to take it. I’m sorry Mike. I respect your work and I hope you find Tanner first.” He said, hanging up and driving towards his bug-out location.
Mike rushed to the door, opening a kitchen drawer and tearing off the wrapping paper of a box with the words "Happy birthday, Tanner" on it. Taking out an identical HK45, but with a few accents of anodized rainbow coloring on the slide release and trigger. Mike opened the truck and hesitantly opened the gun case, half expecting a bomb to go off, but too rushed to do anything else but have faith. He smirked at the contents, a laptop, and a strange looking pair of camouflage pouches, a cammo vest and a few grenades. He puzzled, closing it and peeling out of the driveway to find Tanner. With a pile of guns and ammo loosely in the seat beside him, he drove down South 51 as fast as the old truck would move, lights off in case cops were camping it. His phone rang and he felt his heart sink as he picked it up, knowing who would be on the other end.
“Hello Mike.” Said the familiar voice of his sponsor.
“Hello Catherine. It’s late. You better have something important to say to me.” He said coldly.
“Oh I do. I’m sure you’re familiar with the members of my group. My Russian employee just picked up your little friend Tanner. She’s alive and safe, and headed to my safehouse.” She said calmly.
“It won’t be safe when I get there, I promise.” He replied.
“Oh It will be for most of us, this only has to go badly for you, Mike. Not for Tanner. You’ve hit a few members of my group, and that’s not very sporting in our line of work. There are rules and breaking them means consequences. You refused to play for my team, now I only require one life as payment, as long as it’s yours. You’re causing me a lot of trouble, Tanner isn’t a real threat. So if you come to the location unarmed and give yourself up, we let her go without a mark and pretend we never knew her, and then we’ll kill you. Or you can refuse, and we’ll just slowly take her apart until you show up. What’s left of her to set free depends on how long you make me wait and how difficult you make this for me.” She said.
“We both know you won’t let her go, even if I do show up unarmed and willing. If I believed you for a second, I’d gladly take that offer, but you’ll kill her after I hang up the phone, so let me make a counteroffer.” He said, opening the case and the laptop inside it. “I have Gina Garrett on file, videos of you both having some very illegal conversations about a recently missing Detective, You really should sweep your house on Maple drive better for bugs. Can you be a mile away from where you are before I get there? How confident of that are you that you don’t have to pass open air to get to a safehouse? I know you’re home right now. I have you on camera. That’s a long driveway. Will your windshield stop a tungsten round from a 50BMG? How about the tires or the engine block? I am familiar with your little group, names, home addresses, and I have people of my own you don’t know about. So I’m going to call Tanner’s phone every 10 minutes on the dot, and if she doesn’t answer and tell me she’s alive and unharmed, I’ll personally put a bullet in your right eye socket, AFTER the torture. No negotiations, those are facts. You won’t know how many guys I have on the move following which member, whether it’s… Harry Layton with a car bomb, or if Maverick Deacon is about to encounter an unfortunate gang shooting. David Swift might just get mugged in the streets for that backpack and stabbed in the throat. Now, if Tanner were to go walking alone, and one of my guys picks her up, I might go visit your little safehouse location, and we can discuss the problem between us. I know the address already.” He said, glancing at the laptop and the list Carl left him, scrolling the map and the details.
“Clever old dog, Preacher Mike. I still have you severely outnumbered.”
“You do. So that means if I give the green light, you’ll die first, and I’ll watch you do it. Does it really matter what happens after that shot? Who technically won at your funeral, you conceited bitch? We’re both dead early on, and a handful of your survivors will drink to your memory before fighting over who’s in charge. Sounds like a great victory for you. You have to leave that house eventually, if I have one man left with faith in the cause, that’s the last time you leave the house. The Molotov Brothers can take shifts and scout for your guys. Nobody even knows what they look like, it’s almost like they can disappear into the woods for days and camp a location.”
“Okay. So we have a bit of a standoff. How about this... You call for proof of life, every 30 minutes, tanner will assure you she is safe. You show up to the safehouse you already know, apparently, and you stand at the gate with your hands up and Jacket open. I’ll tell my man Blondie the Butcher to escort her safely to the back drive, and you can watch her walk away safe and sound. Until you show up in person, she stays with the Butcher. You know how these cutters get along nicely together. And we can just wait for your man to pick her up while you stand arms up at the front gate. If you have any halfway competent men, they can drive her to wherever you want, and you get to die there instead of her. Remember Mike, she’s a nobody, and she means nothing to me, but bringing you in is everything so I can leave my house with you in cuffs in a room under guard. You don’t get to live through this, just her, and whoever your men are we don’t know about. Just you, Mike. Only you need to die to set this right, but if you do anything stupid, I’m perfectly willing to kill everyone you know. What would Jesus do?” she snidely asked.
“Jesus would die for the ones he loved as a willing sacrifice. Thing is, I’m more of a follower of the old-testament God. Eye for an eye, blood for blood, trust not the sinner and their lies, but carry a rod of iron in the face of evil. I’ll gladly die once tanner is safe, but until that moment, you better believe I have plagues and the angel of death ready to rain hellfire on your sinfull ass, and mercy is earned, not gifted. God sent me tanner for a reason, and if that reason is to live instead of me, and remember my legacy while I die for her sins, so be it. But you try anything stupid, and harm one hair on her head, I won’t have the Molotov Brothers shoot in the face. My orders are shoot to maim, and make sure you believe in hell before you go there. Vengeance tenfold and your suffering will seem eternal, I can promise that.” He said, breathing darkly into the phone. “But if she’s safe and unharmed, we have a deal, and a contract. Consider it me signing in blood for my soul, Miss Catherine."
"It's such a shame you aren't a team player, Mike. You've got an evil side buried in you that even my best men don't. It's tragic that it only comes out when it's forced out. You could be the best of the group if you would just compromise a little and convince that side to show up more often."
"Don't worry, it's making an appearance. I will be the best of the group if you hurt her, because there can't be anyone better, if there's nobody left alive." He said, hanging up coldly.