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The Return of Jack Collier (Chapter Thirty-Two)

The Return of Jack Collier

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay

 

 

Last week’s entry can be found here.

 

Chapter Thirty-Two: A Lion’s Den

 

            I was not at all surprised that we drove directly to The Church of Thinkonomics World Headquarters. I was a little surprised to notice a dark sedan following us most of the way but not entering the parking garage with us. I notice that with interest because if they’d been meant to watch over us and make sure we got there the thing would be to come in with us and menace us some more. However it just kept going. Maybe I was wrong about them following us, but I doubt it. I’m paranoid, not stupid.

 

            We got out of the van just as the one and the other were starting to come to from being smacked around. That was good because it meant I could have them walk behind us and they’d probably not be willing to fuck with me even a little now.

 

            “You follow me and Miss Liddell. Get it?” I asked them as we got out of the van. “If you fuck around, even a little, I will just gun you down and worry about everything else later. Note that I didn’t say I’d kill you either. I can shoot you in places were it’d take days for you to die, even with medical help.”

 

            I figured I was having a bad enough day that a few lies wouldn’t cause me anymore troubles. My karma was pretty much in the red ever since Sweden and I didn’t think it would really ever be back in the black anyway. So I made myself out to be a bigger badass than I was, why not?

 

            We went into the building, with Kevin leading me to the set of offices where Jill was being held. I was pretty sure I could trust Kevin, we were just about BFF after all. Kevin held me in that wonderful combination of dumbstruck awe and pants wetting fear. In that place, trust can germinate and sprout up like something sprouty.

 

            We walked through the building, looking normal and escorted. People knew the one and the other one so it was easy for us to get around. When we got to the waiting room of the office where Jill was being held there was a slight problem.

 

            “What’d you bring them here for?” a guard in the waiting room asked.

 

            “Supposed to,” the other one said, since his jaw hadn’t been broken.

 

            “Fuck that,” the guard said taking a step towards me.

 

            I decided to make the point that I was not to be fucked with and shoot him in the leg, up in a fleshy part of the thigh. The gun shot sounded loud in there, and I was pretty sure it would bring more trouble quickly. I walked toward the guard that wasn’t on the floor screaming and put the gun barrel against his head.

 

            “Where is she?”

 

            “In there!” he pointed to a door with his thumb.

 

            “Watch him,” I said as I kicked the screaming one’s legs away from the door, getting a fresh howl for my effort.

 

            Jill was being held by a man in a doctor’s outfit. I’m guessing he wasn’t a real doctor though. He had a scalpel in his hand and was holding it to her throat, trying to look like he wasn’t pissing himself with terror.

 

            “I’ll cut her throat!” he shouted.

 

            “I’ll kill you slow if you do,” I said taking a step towards him. “Let her go now, and you can walk away from this. I only want her, I don’t care about you.”

 

            “I’ll cut her,” he repeated.

 

            “Oh fuck you! I don’t have time for this,” I fired a round that shattered the air and tore a largeish hole through the dry wall next to him. He closed his eye and froze when the shot rang out. I approached and put the barrel against his forehead. “They next one goes through your memory of your third birthday!”

 

            He let the scalpel fall to the floor and I yanked Jill away from him. I was getting annoyed though, so I did give him a smack with the butt of the pistol, just to remind him that he should always do what armed French/Irish/Welshmen tell him to do. We left the little office and went into the waiting room where Alice handed me another gun and patted one she had in her pocket.

 

            “You come with us,” I said slipping the standing guard’s gun into my jacket and then looked at the might-be doctor. “You! Take care of the wounded here.”

 

            We left the waiting room and were back down the halls in a moment. Kevin lead us to the main elevator and the other one took out a key that would let us go to the top floor. We waited quietly together as we went up.

 

            “Is this where we were supposed to be going anyway?” I asked.

 

            “Yes,” the other one said. “Father William wants to see you.”

 

            “Well, I want to see him,” I said.

 

            The elevator didn’t open directly into an office, but into a large and comfortable waiting room. I would have done things differently if I had a private elevator that needed a key, but then I am not a lunatic cult leader. I’m not saying one leads directly to the other, but it might.

 

            “Can I help you?” a secretary asked.

 

            “Jack Collier,” I said walking across the thick carpet towards the door. “I am expected.”

 

            I threw the doors open and found four people standing around a desk arguing something, probably what they were going to do about the three dozen of their members being held on rape and murder charges. I walked to the center of the office and announced my presence by shooting the phone on the desk.

 

            “I don’t want us to be interrupted,” I said tossing the gun over my shoulder and letting it bounce on the soft flooring.

 

            “Who the hell are you?” a strong jawed, white-haired man in the chair behind the desk demanded.

 

            “You should know me by now,” I admonished him. “I’m the man you wanted to see so badly you assaulted a federal officer and had him kidnapped him at gun point.”

 

            “You seem to have changed the situation of our meeting,” he leaned back in his chair and toyed with a watch chain on his vest. A brass plaque before him said that he was called Father William. I saw a degree from an eastern law school on his wall.

 

            “I do that,” I told him. “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

 

            “You know our security is right outside these doors?” one of the men asked in an oily and instantly irritating tone. His suit was so hideous, it looked for a moment that he was dressed in newsprint, but I saw that it was just an ugly pattern made to look like newsprint.

 

            “But I’m in here,” I smiled. “Your security isn’t very good if Heckle and Jeckle here are an example. They didn’t even pat me down to see if I was armed, which I was. Besides, you’ve kidnapped a federal agent, you’re in deep shit right now.”

 

            “Who says we’ve kidnapped her?” Father William asked. “Maybe she’s with us.”

 

            “Oh, you are nothing but a pack of cards,” Alice said and fired a round at the desk, putting a big hole in the polished wood.

 

            “You can’t push my paranoia buttons like that Billy,” I waved it away. “Last time I was fucking her, it took an hour for her toes to uncurl. You couldn’t turn her with a key. So what did you want with me?”

 

            “We’re going to kill you.” the man who looked like he was dressed in newspaper said.

 

            I walked toward the desk and I’m glad to say he backed away. Still though, I’d had had enough and I smacked him good and hard across the head with the sap. He went down like a trust fund princess on whatever guy happened to pull his dick out for her. I sat down in a big green velvet chair and crossed one leg over the other.

 

            “Well?” I asked. “Are we just talking shit? I’ve got things to do today, my time is worth a thousand pounds a minute.”

 

            “We were going to explain that you had us all wrong,” Father William said, unfazed by my violence. That was bad, he wasn’t afraid of me.

 

            “How do I have you wrong?” I asked. “I’ve had to take back Jill from you guys three times now.”

 

            “Three times?” Father Williams asked.

 

            “Once three years ago, once last night, once today,” I said. “Three.”

 

            “Ah, of course,” Father William nodded. “I forget about poor Cole sometimes.”

 

            “You shouldn’t forget Cole King,” I admonished him. “Cole King could still get you killed. So how do I have you wrong? Is Zeeba not really what your little religion is all about? Did you not attempt gang rape last night?”

 

            “We’re not your enemy,” Father William waved my accusations aside as if they were just so much smoke. “We could be your friends. A man of your resources could have a position in our organization.”

 

            “But your organization is about to be smashed by federal investigators,” I said. “And what the feds don’t do to you, I will.”

 

            “We don’t need to be adversaries here,” Father William smiled and tried to sound like a man willing to make a deal. “We could be friends.”

 

            “This is how you treat your friends?” I asked. “Thugs and beatings and killings and making my girlfriend cry?”

 

            “We could just as easily kill you,” Father William snarled.

 

            “Try it bitch,” I stood up and walked a few steps toward the desk. “You think you’re the first bitch to ever try to kill me? I’ve fucked up Church and took his thug Opus’s eye out. I split Knock the Mountain Troll’s head open with a shovel and in case you never read the papers I killed seven of the most dangerous people on earth with one blow. You’re gonna need an army if you come up against me Billy boy.”

 

            “We have an army!” Father William snapped, finally getting mad at me. Another few sentences and I’d have him ready for my surprise gift.

 

            “Got a Navy and an Airforce?” I asked. “Cause you bitches seem to think I’m just some guy who can be pushed around and scared. You can’t scare me, evidence has proved you can’t kill me, and you can’t do anything to those around me because every time you do I’m right fucking there on your ass bitch. Piss me off, go ahead, see if I don’t follow you to the ends of the earth.”

 

            “You little puissant,” William snapped.

 

            “Try it now,” I walked five steps back from his desk and pulled the wrapped handkerchief from my pocket. “Come on bitch. See what you got.”

 

            “Jack?” Alice asked, and I took my eye off Father William just long enough to glance at her.

 

            “I hope you’re watching carefully.” I said. “I’m looking forward to that dance.”

 

            I snapped my hand out and held the corner of the handkerchief. The Drexel thirty-two flew from the handkerchief and sailed across the room. It bounced on the desk, leaving a mark, and then hit him in the center of his middle mound. He grabbed the gun, had a look at it and pointed it directly at me.

 

            “It’s loaded,” I said. “But you only get one shot. I’d suggest you put it in your mouth and end it, otherwise I will fuck your whole world up.”

 

            “You little shit,” he said pointing the gun directly at me and pulling the trigger.

 

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April 8, 2011 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment

Free the dildos

I heard about a book called Liberating Masturbation the other day. I didn’t hear anything else though, just the title and that it came out during the sexual revolution. My problem is, I don’t know if the idea of the book is the liberate masturbation, or if it’s being liberated through the idea of masturbation.

Are you jerking free the idea of onanism from the hands of the old guard and letting it squirt free and sail like a mucusy dove? Or is it rather that you’re finding a new self-liberation through spanking the monkey? Do you achieve a greater freedom by relieving yourself of those tyrannical sperm cells that have been holding back your joy?

And is it possible that this is another feminist work?

Should I have said that it’s about rubbing out tyranny?

April 8, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment