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Chapter 6

Amarillo Texas

The young detective stared at the man, seated at the table eating something that looked like it had already been chewed. There was something about this new group of people that had come to his town.

They were just entirely too smooth for his tastes. He and a few of the other officers had began a loose surveillance on the people. He reviewed what he knew about them. They were German, and each man and woman had diplomatic immunity.

There were FEDS all over the place. If these people were suppose to be untouchable, why were the FEDS here? Very curious.

The waiter nervously walked over to the large man. “Officer Stokes, Mr. Borga, sends this wine with his compliments.”

Boris Stokes was a very large man with great strength, just the look from his deep brown eyes, could scare the shit out of some perp. “Take that shit back, and tell Borga to kiss my ass.”

The waiter was clearly frightened and could only stand there looking foolish.

Boris promptly stood up, and took the bottle of wine, to the German’s table.“Neville I know you’re not in my town, just to drink shitty wine. Whatever, it is...I’m going to find out, then I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

One of life’s little pleasures as a cop was that you could take certain liberties and tap dance around certain things.

“Boris may I call you Boris? Good. I guess you’ve forgotten the little meeting with your DA. You cannot arrest me, detain me, or even question me.” Borga replied with a smug smile.

Boris smiled. “You may refer to me only as Officer Stokes. I never said I was going to arrest you, detain, or question you. I said I was going to make your life a living hell.”

Borga was clearly shook, but quickly regained his composure. “I’m sure there are laws against harassment Stokes.” he replied as he picked up his glass of wine, and brought it to his lips.

Boris shook his head as he turned to walk away. “Enjoy the wine shithead.”

Borga went into a wild coughing spree, as those at the table began to talk rapidly in German. One young man seated at the table glared in the direction in which Boris had left. All it would take was for one cop to throw a monkey-wrench into the works, then they’d really be screwed.

The technology that they’d brought was worth millions. If this officer Boris Stokes were to ever find out what was being planned...

Their immunity only protected them from arrest, and detainment. A cop like Stokes wouldn’t hesitate to kill them. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought. “Goddamn psycho.”

Rob Macalister watched as the men brazenly walked across his posted property. It really was the principal behind it all. The land was posted, and they had more than likely cut the fence.

It never failed: For some reason the shitheads, would always cut the fence rather than climb over. Then he’d have to go hunting his milk cows.

He picked up his rifle and went to his saddled horse. He swung up into the saddle and turned the horse in the direction of the men. Another thing that never failed was, the assholes would want to argue. He’d grown very weary of having to explain the law to a group of simpletons.

A man shouldn’t have to explain the why of it. Posted Means: Stay The Fuck Out!

A friend of his was told by a judge, that he’d have to put his hybrid down. Some fool had ignored a No Trespassing sign. along with his Beware of Dog sign.

The fool broke into his house, and found a sick woman. Being the type of man he was, he proceeded to do the unspeakable. He was stopped by the family pet. A very large half wolf and half collie.

The pet tore very large chunks of flesh from the man, before the woman called him off.

She called the sheriff and held a gun on the man until help arrived. When asked why she hadn’t called for an ambulance, she replied. “After he raped me, do you think he would have called one for me? I ain’t Sister Nancy. He was very damn lucky that I even called Max off, before calling you.”

The fool of a judge ruled that what the woman did was cruel and inhuman, and that the dog known as Max was to be destroyed.

The woman and her husband muttered in unison “Kiss my ass.” as they left the courtroom.

It wasn’t the fault of the owner, if some lowlife got bit by the family pet, or shot by the owner after breaking into a house.

Six months later after a full recovery, the lowlife broke into another home and was shot dead by a twelve year old girl.

No-charges were filed. New judge of course the other judge was debenched.

The Sheriff had gone out to the couple’s home to carry out the order. (Not that it was ordered for him to do so) He took two deputies as witnesses and took the dog over the hill. One shot was fired. Two days later the Sheriff brought, a dog to the couple. A dog that bore a remarkable resemblance to Ole Max.

Rob rode up to the men his eyes continually searching for any stragglers. “You boys ignored the posted sign, now I’m certain that you won’t ignore this rifle. You hit the river bed, and don’t come back onto my place.”

“We have diplomatic immunity against your laws.” one man replied smugly.

Too smugly, for Rob to ignore.

Rob knew who the men were. He’d heard the other officers talking of a group of men and women with immunity from the law. No traffic ticket no detainment.

Plain Nada. That wouldn’t go for very long with the APD.

“I really don’t give a fuck about your immunity, your country, or any rights that you feel you have. On this land I’m God, as well as the law, and your bullshit immunity is not recognized here.”

The men were clearly shaken and there was something about this man that sent a clear warning: Fuck with him and you’ll die. “Sir as soon as we hit the river bed, you’ll not see or hear from us again. We tried our luck and you caught us.”

Rob nodded his response.

As the men walked away, one man whispered angrily. “Why did you allow that piece of shit to run us off?”

“Because if we’d tried to take him, he’d have killed us all to the very last man.”

“Then his own law would have dealt with him.”

“A lot of good that would have done us you moron.”

The man fell silent.

Bill Wilson smiled as he watched his wife cook supper. Though she was eight months pregnant, she still insisted on cooking and cleaning.

Bill had once suggested that he could get somebody to come in and help her. That she had no business working so hard.

Wrong move.

“Oh-you’d like that!” she snapped. “Get some sweet young thing to come bouncing around here. You can just fucking forget that one Mister Big Shot Detective.”

“Honey, the person can also be a sweet elderly lady, that needs help because of a fixed income.”

“I never knew you to like em old. . .Bill. Tell me the truth, are those wrinkles a road map to the hotspot?”

Bill shook his head in wild amazement. His father-in-law was right: Carol had become her mother. He’d told Bill the horror stories of how her mother was during her pregnancies. Each more horrifying than the first.

“Well then why don’t I help you with all this. I know you don’t like men in your kitchen but...”

“You’ll screw up my whole system.” Carol replied sharply cutting him off.

“No. I won’t I’ll just stand there and watch I promise.”

“Then what good will you be? Typical man, so goddamn useless, you stick to law enforcement and I’ll handle the complicated parts of life.”

“Anything you say dear.” Bill replied as he picked up the paper. He never said the right thing, if he said, “I love You.” She’d lay into him accusing him of screwing his partner. Yeah right, he liked Fred, but not that much.

If he tried to tell her about his day, (Something she’d always felt deprived of) he was suppose to ask for the tenth time since coming home, “How’s the kid?”

That scenario could also go the other way.

Carol smiled as she stepped into the living-room. Bill was such a good husband and provider. She walked over and pushed the paper aside, and sat in his lap. “I’m sorry, that I’ve been such a bitch. It’s these damn hormones.”

Bill smiled as he put his arms around his wife. “Honey?”


“On our next kid, we’re going to adopt.”

The baby chose that time to kick.

That got the couple to laughing.

The one thing that Carol had agreed to was to keep supper simple. She made a quick salad, and baked some potatoes and threw a couple of steaks in her grandmother’s old cast iron skillet.

Bill was surprised, when she asked if he’d mind clearing the table. She had the makings of one of her bad headaches. He smiled gently and filled her pitcher of water from the fridge and got her settled into their bed.

“Just clear the table, and rise the dishes off. I’ll wash them tomorrow.”

“Okay baby.”

Bill stood and watched over her until she fell asleep. She was truly the best thing to ever come into his life. When she wasn’t pregnant, she was the sweetest lady on earth.

He went into the kitchen and got himself a beer, and took a long drink. He sat the can down and cleared the table, and drew some dish water. He washed the dishes and put them in the rinse water.

He started to put them in the drainer, but stopped himself. Why risk world war three? He pulled the plug and wiped the counters down and picked up his beer.

Still cold, he thought with a smile.

The phone rang and he quickly silenced it.

“Detective Wilson?” the heavy German accent asked.

“Yeah, who the hell is this?”

“Tell your boys to back off my people.”

Bill felt his blood pressure begin to rise. How the hell did this asshole get his number? “Call the station, to enter your complaint shithead.”

“You should never curse the man that holds your wife’s life in his hands.”

Bill dropped the phone and rushed down the hall, pausing at the hall closet to get his pistol. He cautiously entered the bedroom. He’d always preferred the direct approach, he flipped on the light.

The bed was empty.

His heart became alive with panic. “Carol! God, Please-No!”

He heard the sound of gasping from down the hall, and rushed to the bathroom. Carol, was hunkered over the toilet upchucking.

“My curse for being such a bitch earlier.” she said with a faint smile.

“Oh baby, you scared the shit out of me.” Bill, replied as he pulled a washcloth from the cabinet. He wet it with cool water and handed it to his wife.

“Who was on the phone?” she asked weakly.

“Stay in here, until I get back.”

He walked over and picked up the phone and listened. The bastard was still on the line, or...the connection hadn’t been broken. “You stay the fuck away from us.”

“I do hope that her being sick, isn’t anything too serious. Maybe it’s the water.” a very cold laugh followed.

“You Goddamn Sick Fucking Bastard!” Bill shouted just before breaking the

connection. His hands shook slightly as he dialed his in-law’s number. He had to get Carol to safety, and that was the best place he knew.

“Dad. I need for Carol to come there for a while. You know the rules, no I can’t just yet.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to take her to the hospital then straight there. Just a check up. Dad, don’t let her or mom, out of your sight for even a minute.”

He broke the connection, Carol would be covered as soon as he got her to her parent’s place. That place was a fucking fort, and her father’s people were all ex-military.

He was covered. The one thing that was dead certain as well as consistent was The Brotherhood.

He went to the bedroom and picked up the water pitcher. It was an off color, not enough to be real noticeable at a first glance.

“Motherfuckers!” he muttered as he rushed back to Carol. She was on the floor unconscious.

He checked her pulse and breathing everything appeared to be normal. He went and got her special bag for the hospital and carried Carol, and the bag out to the car.

Stay professional, don’t think, don’t feel.

“Bullshit!” he said in a loud voice. “Borga! I’m gonna fucking kill you, and I’m going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.”

Bill carried Carol into the hospital and shouted for help.

In an instant he was surrounded by doctors and nurses. He was forced to stand and watch helplessly as Carol was placed on a gurney. “I’m gonna fucking kill you Borga. Best count on it.”

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