I'll come up with something in a minute.


Can anyone actually tell, me anything about this Edward Khil Trolololol song? I’m wondering what the deal is here. Who is this guy? Was he popular at the time? Was this an aberration? Is this why we won the Cold War? Is this like when I found Dschinghis Khan’s Moskau last year?

Just in case you want to hit your friends up…

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March 11, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Jack & Jill (Part Ten)

Jack & Jill (A Love Story)

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay



Read last week’s entry here.


Part Ten: Another Long Minute


            A silenced twenty-two is pretty much a scalpel. It’s a precise weapon for a precise job. You really have to know what you’re doing to kill someone at distance with one. Giving such a weapon to me for the purpose I was about to use was just like giving me a scalpel for a knife fight. If I wasn’t careful, I could end up dead. However, if I looked like I was being careful, I could bluff my way out of this. While still behind the door of the Hudson I aimed at the back tire of the truck and pulled the trigger twice. One of them must have done the job because there was a pop sound and the truck started to sag on that side.


            Dave’s head turned to look and I fired at the truck a few times, causing a window to explode. It’s a little disconcerting, because the gun was so damn quite. There was hardly a whisper from it, more noise was made by the working of the mechanism and the fall of the shells onto the dirt road.


            “You want this?” I asked, walking around the front of the car and pointing one of the pistols at him. “Who do you think you are? More than that, who do you think I am?”


            He started to raise the rifle, so I gave him one in the right hip. I was gratified to find later that I had shattered his hip and that the bullet had fragmented beyond recognition. He shouted, and the rifle fell from his fingers, catching the light as it spun through the air. I walked up, gave him another solid kick to the side to match the one I’d given him earlier.


            “Fucker.” I said slipping the silenced pistol into my pants and picking up his machine gun.


            It was the twin of the one Cole had been shooting at me earlier, and it was all ready for fully automatic fire. He was going to perforate me, just as soon as he had a clear shot. Fortunately, my brights had been on and I had shot him while behind them. Had I not used the silenced pistol that might have given me away. Lucky again.


            “Mother fucker.” He had managed to pull a big Drexel automatic from where ever he kept it and was trying to aim it at me. Even though I was holding a machine gun in my hand and could have shot him, my left hand went to the persuader and smacked him across his right temple.


            I picked up the big Drexel and stuffed it next to its quieter cousin. I walked to the back of my car, where I could see Cole’s truck flashing its hazard lights in the ditch. His door was open and I saw him moving around just outside of it. He was woozy and not moving too well. He didn’t seem to have any real co-ordination, or any weapon I could see, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t in possession of either of those. I aimed at the truck as best I could and laid out a barrage of automatic fire at it until the gun was empty. Mostly I hit the truck, I might have hit him, but his hitting the ground could have just been him diving for cover.


            “You stay the fuck  down or I will fucking kill you Cole!” I shouted. I didn’t hear anything as a response, so I started towards him. I couldn’t see very well in the dark, but he got up on his knees and shouted to me.


            “Don’t shoot.” He shouted, and threw a gun to his left, sending it tumbling into the ditch at the other side of the road. “Please! Don’t kill me!”


            “You lay face down with your arms out.” I told him, while aiming the empty rifle at him.  


            He did as I said and I was faced with a problem. Putting the plastic cuffs on could be an issue, because that would be when he could try and get cute. I settled for standing well back from him and pre-looping two of them. I tossed the pair of them on the ground in front of him.


            “You put a foot in each loop, you put a hand in each loop.” I told him. “Then we pull it tight and you are caught.”


            He did what he was told, putting the legs in first. I was gratified to find that he even understood that I would want his hands behind his back when he slipped his hands in. I pulled them tight and pushed him over on to his back, letting him look down the barrel of the machine gun as I had done a few minutes ago. I didn’t want to kill him though. I figured he was on his way to a jail cell with a lot of thugs who don’t feel too happy about child molesters. I couldn’t say, just then if he had raped her or just molested her, and I couldn’t kill him if she’d been a willing participant at some point. If she had actually wanted to go with him, he should just go to jail.


            “Please.” Cole actually sobbed the sound and I noticed he was crying. “Please don’t kill me.”


            I went to the ditch at the side of the road and grabbed his gun before walking back to the car. I put the rifle and Cole’s gun into the back seat as well. I stopped near the car and scooped up the brass from the twenty-two off the road. I pulled the silenced automatic out and slipped it back into the hooch hold and looked at Jill. She looked scared, but she didn’t look like she was in shock or anything.


            “You okay?” I asked.


            “Yeah.” She nodded once.


            “One more minute and we’re gone.” I told her and stood up.


            Dave was starting to get up by the time I got to him. I hit him once with the butt of his own pistol and performed the hogtying miracle again. I wondered if I should inform someone about this. This could be something for a cowboy to use sometime. Sure, he’d have to rope the animals with their legs in front of them instead of behind, but maybe they could do it. I pushed him to the side of the road so that I could pass without running him over.


            I got into his truck backed it into the ditch behind me, got out and looked at him. He was coming to again and there was a snarl on his face. He wanted to get his hands free, and he wanted to get at me. I was glad that I had sprung for the more expensive plastic cuffs with the two individual loops and the thicker construction. I sort of wanted to shoot him, maybe just once in the leg. I showed him his big Drexel and put the barrel against his forehead, which shut him up at least.


            “Seven with one blow bitch.” I said into his ear. “Now maybe you’ll learn that I’m the baddest mother fucker that there is and there ain’t no badder.”


            “This ain’t over yet.” Dave growled at me. “I’ll find you one day.”


            “Pray you don’t.” I said firing a round that hit the ground next to his head. A small stone hit me in the face, which proves why you shouldn’t try to be too smart with people.


            I walked back to the Hudson, got in, and tossed yet another gun into the miniature armory I was building. I looked at Jill, who had pulled herself up onto the seat and fastened her seat belt. She looked at me and smiled a bright and fairly innocent smile.


            “Are we going home?” She asked.


            “We’re well on our way.” I told her and started the engine.


            The rest of the trip to the Piper Plantation was uneventful, although getting there was a bit of a time. It seemed that every car with the word “Police” or “Sheriff” from a radius of eighty miles had descended upon the plantation while I was away, which was a good trick if you ask me. I couldn’t have been away for more than half an hour all told, and yet the situation was in hand when I arrived. All I can think is that Alice had set the situation up well in advance and when told to strike they came all at once.


            While this is impressive, it did mean that I had to try and talk my way through a dozen different jurisdictions before I got fed up with trying to tell people my story before they were interrupted again and just called Alice. Fortunately, when I told a couple of the local boys about how the kidnapper and child molester was tied up a mile or two up the road they did the right thing and just asked for me to point the way. It couldn’t have been more than a dozen cars that went after Cole and Dave, but I figured that was enough for the way they’d been trussed.


            It took nearly an hour for me to get cleared to actually go to the house, and when I got there it looked like it might take me another hour to get away. There were so many officials that I began to wonder if getting out would require the same level hopping I’d done to get in. It took ten minutes just to hand over the confiscated guns and not let anyone take mine away. Both my guns tend to cause a lot of interest since the Webley is an antique and a rarity anyway and the Marley is no slouch in the collector’s market either.


            I had to make it clear that no one could touch either my guns, or my kidnapping victim but I would let them watch me reload the guns if they were nice boys and girls. It was while doing this that Alice finally managed to push her way through and get to me. She looked incredulously at me as I slipped the rounds in their half moon clips into the Webley, explaining how the zig-zag pattern on the gun helped in shooting.


            “Of course I find you delivering a lecture.” She announced as she put her hands on her hips.


            “Took your time, didn’t you?” I asked, trying not to smile.


            “Disperse.” She told the officers over her shoulder.


            None of them moved. She turned around and I waved them away, letting them know that we were going to have a talk. While they didn’t respect her, they seemed to have gained some respect for me and moved off. At least I hoped it was out of respect just for me, I would hate to think sexism had anything to do with it. In put the Webley back under my arm and broke open the Marley.


            “How many?” I asked, while dropping the shells into my hand.


            “About a hundred alive,” She said. “There are maybe ten dead. One of them was shooting them in the back as they ran.”


            “Yeah,” I said as I closed the Marley and put it back in my holster. “That would be Joe. I gave his revolver to someone, but his rifle was probably found with him.”


            “So those are your slugs in his belly.” She said, and she looked so beautiful that I wanted to weep. “I was wondering for a moment who could have caused all this trouble. They were sort of thinking that it might have been a small army or something.”


            “I didn’t start a fire or anything.” I protested. “Just took out a couple of baddies, and then took out a couple more. I didn’t even kill anyone, Joe will be fine I’m sure.”


            “You sure you didn’t slaughter the unbelievers mister Seven with One Blow?”


            “That’s a little unfair.” I complained. “I make an effort not to kill anyone and you treat me like I burned down Atlanta.”


            “Okay.” She put a hand to her head. “I’m sorry. It’s late and I had a full day. Maybe if I could get some sleep, or something.”


            “Well, I need to call the parents and see if they want their daughter home right now or if I should take her to a hospital or what.” I told her. “I mean, really I should be carted away to some station or other for tonight’s work.”


            “Well, you call and I’ll make sure you keep your freedom of movement.”


            “Thanks.” I said and smiled at her.


            I kept the car and my occupant in view as I walked away and looked for Piper’s number. I got the number and pressed the buttons to make the phone call and put it against my ear. There were a few rings and I wondered what time it was, but the only clock I have is on my phone. When the phone was answered there was a muzzy voice on the other side.


            “Hello?” Peter Piper’s voice said,


            “Mister Piper?” I asked. “It’s Mister Collier, I have retrieved your daughter.”


            “You did?” He sounded surprised.


            “Yes.” I said. “I got a lucky break and then a very unlucky break.”




            “Cole King kidnapped your daughter, and he was importing and abusing illegal immigrants.”


            “Well, yes.” He sounded like none of this surprised him. “What’s going on now?”


            “Well, the feds are sort of here.” I told him. “Some of King’s assistants were shooting some of the Mexicans and the whole thing is going to be sort of a shit storm.”


            “Oh.” He muttered.


            “But, the good news is that I’ve got your daughter safe.”


            “Yes.” He barely sounded concerned about that.


            “And I was wondering if I should bring her home now or take her to a hospital to be examined.”




            “To see if she was raped or otherwise abused.”


            “Yes.” He agreed. “Yes, you should probably do that. When they’ve cleared her, I suppose you can bring her home.”


            “Yeah.” I was beginning to wonder if I had the right number but was talking to someone too polite to tell me other wise. “Do you want to talk to her?”


            “I think probably you’re all very busy and you want to take her to see the doctor.” He told me. “I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”


            I heard him hang the phone up, and pulled it away to look at it for a moment. Alice approached me, a look of concern on her face as she approached. What ever was bothering her it couldn’t be much more bizarre than the conversation I’d just had.


            “How many people did you leave by the side of the road?” She asked. “They only found one who had been sapped and shot.”


            “Two.” I said. “The one I sapped and shot is Dave Fiddler, but I put plastic cuffs on Cole King as well.”


            “He wasn’t there.” She said.  “They found a couple of pair of plastic cuffs, but they’d been cut up.”


            “Can’t worry about that now.” I said. “I’m sure the locals will be interested in him on several counts now anyway. I’ll take her to a hospital, get some sleep and take her home.”


            “You going to drive home tonight?” She looked crushed.


            “I don’t think so.” I said. “I need to take her to a hotel so I can get a few hours sleep that isn’t on a floor.”


            “And you’re too paranoid to let her sleep in the next room or something, aren’t you?” She asked.


            “Probably.” I said. “I’m going to just fall over and go to sleep anyway. It wouldn’t be good.”


            “No.” She couldn’t help sounding disappointed. “Probably not.”


            “I tell, you what.” I put my arms around her and pulled her close. “You come to Michigan when you’re done with these guys and you and I can spend a week up north in a nice hotel failing to see the natural beauty of my home state.”


            “You promise?” She asked.


            “Unless I crack my skull open or something.” I told her. “What’s the likelihood of that?”


            “Okay.” She leaned forward and kissed me. “Don’t crack your skull then.”




March 11, 2010 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment