Jungle Warriors, Crime Fighters Read online

  KC sat, thinking for a few moments. “Hmm. Who is it that knows that TV newswoman? The one on Channel 3.”

  “It’s Bobby. He’s down in the Gym. Shall I get him?”

  Peeps brought former United States Marine Corps Sergeant Robert P. Billings into KC’s office.

  “Bobby, you worked surveillance for Maggie and Tara Warner, didn’t you?” KC asked.

  “Yes sir, I did.”

  “What would you say if I told you that Wyatt Murphy tried to call the girls from prison?”

  Bobby replied, “I’d say he’s going to be a problem.”

  “You still in touch with the Channel 3 newswoman, Karen Blanchard?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Here’s what I think about this. Murphy went down so quietly that I’ll bet none of the prisoners know what he’s in for. And since cons are known to hate anyone who abuses, molests or rapes children, I’m sure he hasn’t told anyone about what he did. Bobby, do you think your newswoman friend would be willing to air a human-interest story about this even if she didn’t know the girl’s names?”

  “Probably not, sir. She’s a journalist and they require at least two reputable sources if they can’t interview the victim when they report crimes.”

  “Ok, I understand that. You know, even though this was handled quietly to protect the girls, the disposition of the case is still a matter of public record, right?”

  Bobby and Peeps thought about that for a couple of seconds and then both of them nodded in the affirmative. The look on KC’s face brightened as he said, “Ol’ Top was able to get the mug shot and the restraining order. I wonder if he could get the arrest report too. Peeps, check that out with him. Also, ask him to find out if the final disposition of the case is added to the report after sentencing.”

  “I’ll go call him right now.”

  KC nodded at the phone on his desk and said, “Use this phone.”

  Peeps dialed and said, “Top, Peeps here. Listen, do you think you could get a copy of Murphy’s arrest report?” Peeps listened for about fifteen seconds and then said, “You can assure her that no one will ever know where it came from. In fact, besides you and me, only KC, Bobby and a journalist friend of Bobby’s will ever see it.”

  Peeps listened again, and then said, “Bobby is only going to show it to her to prove that Murphy was arrested and charged and sentenced for raping a kid. If she won’t guarantee confidentiality, Bobby won’t show it to her at all. And by the way, we need to know if the final disposition of the case is contained in the report.”

  Peeps hung up and grinned at KC. “He said he could find out by tomorrow.”

  “Bobby, if we can get that report as proof, do you think she’d be willing, or even interested?” KC asked.

  “Sir, as you know, Murphy got off lightly when the guys picked him up. I mean I’m sure he doesn’t think he did, but he did. When Karen hears the story, I’m pretty sure she’ll want to help. I’m pretty sure I know what you’ve got in mind. We can’t tell her that. We’ll have to be a little creative in our approach.”

  “You mean you’ll have to be creative in your approach.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s what I meant.”

  “Ok, let’s leave it at that until we hear from Ol’ Top.”

  The following day Ol’ Top was in the office bright and early with the arrest report.

  Bobby took the report and smiled at Ol’ Top and KC. “I called Karen and she said if the arrest report said what I told her it did, she would get the information on the air. She’s going to run a victim’s rights series and will kick it off with this story. She’ll get started on it as soon as she sees the report.”

  KC said, “Bobby, can you go see her now and show her the report?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ok, good. It’s really important that we know exactly when this piece will air.”

  “Understood.”

  Then Peeps came into KC’s office. KC waved him into a chair and began, “Peeps, we’ve got a plan going and we need the help of your buddy at the state pen.”

  “Regarding Murphy?”

  “Yep. There’s going to be a broadcast on Channel 3 news that we need the inmates in Murphy’s cellblock to see. If your buddy knew the day and time, could he make sure the TVs are tuned to Channel 3?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’ll ask him. What’s going on?” Peeps asked.

  “We don’t think the inmates know what Murphy is in for. We think it’s our duty to see that they are properly informed about their fellow inmate’s background.”

  “Oh, boy.” Peeps replied.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think the other cons will be quite as restrained in dealing with Murphy as our guys were.”

  “That’s the plan.” KC affirmed.

  “Don’t worry, they’ll see the broadcast. Just let me know when.”

  Three weeks later, at six o’clock on a Wednesday, KC, Peeps, Ol’ Top and Bobby gathered in front of KC’s giant flat screen TV in the media center in his penthouse. News reporter Karen Blanchard appeared on the screen. “Good Evening. Tonight we begin a series that will address the victim’s side of crime. It seems that all too often, the focus is on the criminal, the police, prosecutors, and defense attorneys and in that process, the plight of victims gets passed over. We begin with a case where a child was raped.” Then the face of Wyatt Murphy filled the screen. “The man you see here is Wyatt Murphy. He................... “ Karen Blanchard gave his background, charges and sentencing information. The four former Marines jumped up like little kids and gave each other high fives.

  KC then said, “Well, gentlemen, let’s see what happens next.”

  It didn’t take long for “what happens next” to happen. The following week, Peeps entered KC’s office, with a smile, “Ol’ Top and Bobby deserve bonuses.”

  “Good enough. Next payday, you cash your check and then share the money with them.”

  “No, I’m serious, KC. I just got a call. Wyatt Murphy was found in the penitentiary kitchen with a mop handle jammed up his ass. Way up his ass. Over two feet up his ass. The end had been whittled into a sharp point. He must have suffered some real excruciating pain before he died.”

  KC raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded. “Well, Peeps, sometimes justice is realized. On a serious note, this good news must not travel beyond the four of us. We wouldn’t have any problems, but it could be bad for Karen Blanchard and Top’s friend at the station if anyone found out how they were involved. And, neither of them can know about what happened to Murphy either. That’s an absolute!”

  “I’ll make sure that the word won’t get out.”

  “Good. Unfortunately, we didn’t make any money from this operation, but you’re right. In next week’s paychecks, add five thousand each to Bobby’s, Ol’ Top’s and yours. And make sure that absolutely no one knows about that, either. Congratulations on a job well done!”

  “Thanks a lot, KC. I really appreciate it.”

  “All right, get back out there and make us some money. I’m feeling broke.”

  Fifteen thousand dollars lighter, KC felt better than he had in a long time. He was beginning to get a little focus on what had been missing in his life. Lots of bad things happen to crime victims that the criminal justice system, no matter how hard the police and DAs work, isn’t able to properly adjudicate. KC was starting to envision the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he and his company could help, in some small way, to deal with that situation.

  Chapter 13

  KC pulled his Mercedes into the long driveway of the large brick home, what some would now call a “McMansion.” This was the home of Former Marine Captain Frank Stone, his former Marine friend, now a Lieutenant in the homicide division of the local police department. Stone was a man KC could trust and rely on. Back in their Marine days, Stone was called Flint
Stone because of his habit of striking matches against his teeth in order to light them.

  After his Marine enlistment was up, FlintStone had taken the examination to enter the police academy, had passed with flying colors, done extremely well in training and had subsequently risen rapidly within the department. He had met and married the girl of his dreams, whose father was a partner in a local law firm. The new father-in-law had given the house to the then-newlyweds as a wedding present. It was obvious that although Jonathan Williams III, Esquire would have preferred for Flint to have chosen law school rather than the police academy, he nevertheless was quite fond of his son-in-law and was pleased that his daughter was happy.

  They were, indeed, a happy couple and tonight were hosting an informal gathering and KC was feeling good to be out of the office. He had moments when the juxtaposition of how he and his pals had lived in Vietnam was in such stark contrast to their lives now. KC had a swanky 10,000 square foot penthouse apartment and Flint was living “the American dream” in his suburban paradise.

  The house was typical of most of the houses in the neighborhood with four bedrooms upstairs, one of which was a large master suite with the requisite huge bathroom, large walk-in closet and a sitting area with an electro-log fireplace. The other bedrooms all had their own bathroom and walk-in closets as well. Nothing like the accommodations of their former, albeit brief life, where they had met and forged a bond that many people do not understand.

  The main floor of the home consisted of a huge kitchen, huge hearth room with stone fireplace, huge office with built-in bookcases, all with “gleaming” hardwood flooring as all the real estate ads were fond of stating. The living and dining rooms were both formal, also with hardwood floors. The family room had all leather couches, a large brick fireplace and an entertainment area. The basement was finished and was entirely dedicated to entertainment of one sort or another, a home theatre with surround sound, a workout area with a state of the art weight machine, a pool table and wet bar. It wasn’t the first time KC had been to Flint’s home but this night he was acutely aware of how far they’d come.

  The little party consisted of about a dozen people, some single, some as couples. All of them had migrated to the basement where a college basketball game was playing on the gigantic flat screen HDTV. A rather spirited game of pool was in progress and the wet bar was being fully utilized. Flint was tending the bar, joyfully filling glasses and opening bottles of beer for his guests.

  KC sipped a Diet Coke, casually leaning against a wall, not talking to anyone, when in walked the most gorgeous woman KC had ever seen. She appeared to be at least six-feet-two, had long well defined, powerful looking muscles and a gorgeous chest that KC realized consisted of two perfectly shaped D-cups. Her face was extremely pretty; in fact, she was stunningly beautiful. She smiled at Melissa Stone, the hostess of this party, exposing a perfect set of bright white teeth. This woman wore really brief orange hip-hugging shorts that showed off spectacular, long, supple looking, muscular legs and an equally brief white top that was tied just beneath her breasts and it displayed ripped abdominal muscles. KC was so taken back by her beauty that it took him a couple of seconds to realize that he was gawking, open-mouthed.

  The woman saw him and her eyes lit up. She rushed over to where he was standing and then said nothing at all. KC said, “Is there some emergency I should know about?”

  She merely smiled. “No, but I had hoped I could talk with you where it’s quiet.”

  “Ok, there’s a workout area on the other side of the room. We can go over there if you want.” KC was perplexed but thrilled.

  Away from the others, KC waited for her to say something. She just smiled at him. To break the silence, he asked if she was a dancer.

  “Oh, I would never do that, nor would I want to. I’m a martial arts instructor.”

  “Where did you learn martial arts?” KC was intrigued.

  “In the Marine Corps. I taught Marine Martial Arts for three years. During my spare time I studied Karate. I’m now an eighth-degree black belt.”

  KC replied, “Wow, I taught Marine Martial Arts, too.”

  She said, “Semper Fi. I’m former Sergeant Nellie Heathcote.”

  “Semper Fi, Nellie. I’m former Captain Keith Huntington, but everyone calls me KC.”

  She nodded and reached out her hand to shake his.

  KC asked, “What is it you want to talk to me about?”

  Nellie responded, “I know who you are. I heard you have a gym and employees that need training. I was hoping we could discuss that.”

  Not sure what to think, KC asked, “And how do you know who I am?”

  “I’ve been teaching martial arts at the local academy for years and I’m ready for a change. It’s great, but not as fulfilling as it once was. I had drinks with a fellow martial artist the other night and he does not know my Marine background, only that I am the best instructor in town. He mentioned a job he had applied for. He said there was a company of crazy former Marines that wanted to learn how to kill people more efficiently. He jokingly said that the last thing he wanted to do was get involved with them as they’d probably end up killing him. We laughed it off, but my interest was sparked. So I did a Google search on you.”

  “You did, did you?” Now KC was intrigued.

  “Yes, sure did. I read about your companies and saw your photo. Then I ran into Melissa today, she is a former student of mine, did you know that? She took a self-defense class from me years ago and we became friends. I knew her husband was a former Marine. I asked her today if she knew about you or your company. She said you were good friends with her husband and that you would be here tonight. So here I am. I think of it as destiny.” Nellie flashed KC another smile.

  “So you claim that you are the best teacher around? You think you can train a bunch of former recon and infantry Marines?”

  “Of course I can. I trained men who were on active duty, why not former Marines?”

  KC replied, “My guys were all in Force Recon or infantry. You know the egos that go with that. Do you want that kind of test every single day? And what makes you think that those guys wouldn’t run right over you?”

  “Lots of guys have tried that, but it doesn’t work.”

  KC was fascinated with this woman. “You’ve certainly given me something to think about. And I will do just that. For now, we’d better rejoin the party. People will wonder what’s going on in here.”

  When they reentered the recreation room where the party was still going strong, several sets of eyes checked them out with curiosity. Now, feeling like he was the center of attention in a strange and unwanted circumstance, KC asked Nellie if she would like to see his gym.

  She smiled and said, “I’d like that.”

  After some polite goodbyes to their hosts, KC and Nellie were out on the driveway.

  “I parked just down the street. I’ll follow you,” Nellie said.

  “We’re going downtown. When we get to my building, we’ll park in the underground garage. Keep close behind me as we enter so you can get in while the gate is still open.”

  “Lead on. I’ll keep up.”

  KC wasn’t surprised to see Nellie pull up in a new BMW M3. The car suited her, he thought. For no specific reason that he could substantiate at this point, he also thought that she was probably able to handle the car pretty well. KC clicked the phone button and speed dialed Peep’s direct office number. When voicemail picked up, he said, “Peeps, first thing when you get in, contact your buddies in Washington and find out everything you can about a former Sergeant Nellie Heathcote. She claims to have been a Marine Martial Arts instructor and wants the job of training our guys. I’m skeptical about her ability to gain respect, especially physically, among the egos our guys have. On the other hand, we haven’t been able to locate a guy that we like, so please find out all you can, as fast as you can. She and I
are on our way to check out our facilities as I speak. I’ll talk with you in the AM.”

  Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the underground garage. There were only a handful of cars parked there at this hour, owned by people manning the Home and Office Security terminals, and a few others who were working out. KC and Nellie parked near the bank of elevators. Nellie got out of her car, locked it with her key fob and joined KC at the elevators. One of the three had bold lettering on the door that said, “OUT OF SERVICE.”

  “Broken?” asked Nellie.

  “Nope, that one is an express that goes straight to the ninth floor. It requires a code and thumb print to open the door.”

  “Oh, what’s on the ninth floor?”

  “That’s where I live.”

  “And your office is here, too?”

  “Yup, on the eighth floor.”

  “Convenient.”

  “The good thing about it is that I don’t have to commute. The bad thing is that I’d like to drive my car a little more.”

  “What’s in those two steel rooms in the corner?”

  “Backup diesel-powered generators. The electricity almost never goes out here, but if it ever does we still have to remain in operation. Let’s just say we have tried to cover all our bases here, secure perimeters and all.”

  “OK,” Nellie smiled, “let’s go see the gym.”

  They got in the elevator and KC pushed the button for the seventh floor. It accelerated rapidly and almost immediately came to a stop accompanied by a hushed chime. The door opened, revealing the entire seventh floor. The lights were on and the clanking of weights could be heard. They followed the sound that took them around the big “combat” mat and in between rows of treadmills and lots of weight machines and several stations with free weights. Finally, they came upon two very powerful looking men working at a bench press station. The number of large weights on the bar took Nellie aback. As one of the men pressed the bar up and let it down with loud grunts, the ends of the bar sagged noticeably. After a few more repetitions, he and his spotter placed the bar on the stand. They then saw KC and Nellie. Both men tried their best but couldn’t keep from staring at Nellie.