Retribution Ch. 4

Author’s Note: This is the final chapter of a four-chapter original work of fiction. Some of the locales are authentic, but none of the names or events is real.

At the end of Chapter Three Roger was telling Tom that death was too easy a punishment for Bushman.

CHAPTER FOUR

Bushman and his cronies calmed down over the next few days as no additional calls were received and nothing was reported in the press. Maybe the storm was past, but deep down they each expected something more to happen. Any person who knew what happened that night was a threat who needed elimination. Bushman, in his mind continued to question who the threat was, and how to deal permanently with them.

For almost six weeks Roger and Maddy worked hard with the lake people to develop a plan to humiliate and destroy everyone involved with that terrible night. The big names were easily identified through press photos taken at the soup kitchen; present that day were Robert Bushman, Andrew Whittaker, William Powers, Jerome Watkins, Jerry Feltwell, and Jim Bakeoff. Only two players remained unidentified; the two large men who Tom saw after the crowd departed the cookout, but at last that a clue appeared when Tom, while maintaining surveillance of the Bushman Ministries Building, saw them exit a car identified by a side-sign as belonging to Bakeoff Farms. From that sighting it was fairly easy to follow them and obtain their identification.

When everything was ready, Maddy initiated the plan with a very short e-mail to each of the seven players:
Dear ______________,

You were present at a cookout on April 15, 2000 after which you, and the others identified below, raped, killed, and then dismembered Randy Stock, Paul Smith, and Janice Williams . The time for RETRIBUTION has arrived. When you are ready to talk send a reply via e-mail to Imaslut@mindspring.com.

“What do we do now Robert?” Feltwell excitedly asked. “Who ever wrote this knows exactly what happened and who was there. What do we do?”

“Nothing! Ignore them. If this person really had anything they would go to the police. They haven’t done that which means they have no proof. With no proof who will the authorities believe; us well-known and upstanding members of the community or some unknown just making wild accusations. Just relax. We do nothing.”

That was okay for the big guys, but Ralph Cramden and Ed Norton were neither well-known except by the police, nor upstanding members of society. Both were two time losers with major crimes behind them. They panicked when their note arrived. In their mind they couldn’t afford to take the wait and see route, and just as Roger expected they answered the mail very quickly. Instructions went out immediately for them to meet at the Taco Bell in Stafford, Virginia on Saturday at 2pm, and wait for a call on the payphone located adjacent to the outside eating patio.

Roger placed the call, and when he was sure both were listening; “Pay attention, I am going to say this one time so listen carefully. We have an eyewitness who saw you at the cookout, knows you raped and dismembered those kids bodies, and who is willing to testify. However, neither of you two are who we truly want. If you play with us we will do what we can to get you somewhat better treatment than we plan to levee on the others.”

“Mister, we understand we are at your mercy, but if we cooperate can you at least promise you won’t give us to the authorities. I we go up again we go for life.” Cramden said.

“We understand, but right now we can’t offer you anymore. Maybe later, depending on your performance we will have something better. Will you play or wait for the gavel to fall?” After a moment they agreed to do whatever they were tasked; the first of which was to make a video-tape confession of the incident including who they were, their relationship to the big-wigs, what their duties were at the cookout, and what they did before, during, and afterwards. This was done at a rented cabin near Luray Caverns, and afterwards the men went into deep hiding; after all when the next phase took place some very powerful men would want them.

William Powers rose angrily as Robert Bushman entered the office; “We waited patiently, now we have a fucking disaster on our hands! What’s your plan now?”

“Nothing has changed. Those two guys are thugs that Jim hired out of the goodness of his heart, and this is how they repay him for his kindness. I say we do nothing. Even if I were agreeable to some other course of action what would you do? We have no idea who or where these people are located. We don’t know if it’s one person or a group. We know absolutely nothing. So what do you want to do?”

“I don’t like it, but I see your point.” Jerry Feltwell added. “Nevertheless, I’m very nervous.”

“I am too, but now is not the time to let your nerves take control.” The phone on Bushman’s desk buzzed. He pushed speaker; “Reverend Bushman, sorry to interrupt, but there is an urgent call from a man named Cookout, who says he must speak with you now.”

Bushman thought for a moment then said; “Mrs. Ames I’ll speak with him, but I want you to immediately begin tracing the call.” In a very polite voice he addressed the party at the other end of the phone; “Hello, Bushman here. Whom am I speaking with?”

“For you and your associates my name is Cookout. I figure you’re trying to put a trace on this call, but you’re wasting your time. I am quite willing to speak with you from now till forever, and you won’t find the point of origination; too many computer patches. Also, you are not listening to my true voice. Now that we have that out of the way we want to set up a meeting to discuss this situation.”

“Why can’t we do this over the phone?”

“Part of it we can, but we still want a meeting. Each of you, and I assume all of you are present, will receive confirmation of what I’m going to say via e-mail at your private e-mail address. Here is the initial penalties for your actions. 1) Each of you, from your personal accounts will donate $10 million dollars distributed per your individual letters. 2) You will each publicly dissociate from all, and I stress all, of your public and private organizations. All of these are listed on your individual letters. 3) Within in two weeks you will depart the United States, and take up permanent residence in a third world country designated on your letter.

Gentlemen, we know everything there is to know about you. The money we are asking for will not come to us, nor will it make you destitute particularly where you are going to live. All of us listening to this conversation know you should have a reserved seat on some prison’s Green Mile, but we are letting you off easy. If you agree to our terms take the necessary actions. We will follow your monetary transactions by internet, the press will keep us informed of your public announcements, and we’ll provide you tickets and information for flights to your new homes. When items one and two are complete we will contact you again about the meeting. It is your choice, but I warn you, if you refuse to accept your fate we will bring weapons to bear you cannot imagine.” The phone went dead.

“Mrs. Ames did they get a trace?”
“No sir, they got through three computer switch stations before our computers were completely overloaded. Sorry.”

Bushman looked at his associates; “Gentlemen, we must each make our own decisions, but I know we have a better chance if we stay together.”

For the first time in a very long time Jerome Watkins jumped to speak first; “You’re right, but here are some other things to consider. If they have been able to find this information they can find more. They can find enough to send all of us to jail without even touching the events of that night, I have no desire to end my days in prison so I’m inclined to take the offer and run.”

The others talked back and forth then agreed with Watkins, leaving Bushman as the only holdout. After a lengthy pause he turned and vehemently said; “You are a bunch of serpentine cowards. I can’t believe you would give into such threats. Well, you do what you have to do. I’m going to fight them. Now if you will excuse me I have other business.”

A week later, Roger looked at Maddy with a big shit-eating grin; “They’re buying into to the plan. I’ve gotten e-mails from everyone except Bushman, which is what I expected. I guess it’s time to start his phase three.” Maddy nodded her agreement and went to the computer terminal to type in a few commands. In seconds all bank and security accounts to which the Rev. Robert Bushman, SSN# 935 67 2723 was linked were empty. Seconds after that every company and association to which Bushman had a membership or affiliation was likewise bereft of funds. Not only were they all broke, but every stockholder and board member was instantly sent an e-mail or snail mail letter telling them exactly, and in vivid detail why they were now destitute. All of the reasons were clear violations of existing laws, but none of the reasons were in any way associated with the events of April 15, 2000. Another aspect of the notifications was an assurance that companies and associations who issued a binding public disassociation from Reverend Bushman would recover all lost funds including interest. Within in three days every entity affected by the funds removal complied with the directions, and their funds were reinstated as promised; as far as anybody was publicly concerned, Robert Bushman, SSN # 935 67 2723 did not, and for that matter, had never existed. Three days after that Bushman sent an e-mail of surrender. It was the final step before the people at the lake put the last act in place to complete their pact of retribution.

Each of the guests of honor, every man who participated in the murders of Randy, Paul, and Janice, was collected separately at different locations. When they entered their individual black limousines in which the windows were blacked out and access to the driver was precluded, they found written instructions on the luxurious leather seat to remove all their clothing and to place the provided blindfold over their eyes. Included in the instructions was a warning the assistant driver was monitoring them via closed-circuit TV, and for no reason were they to remove the eye covering; their life depended on compliance. Their journeys took convoluted routes over several hours during which they were entertained with their favorite taped music. Simply put they received no visual or auditory input that would indicate how to get to, or where their final destination was located.

At a private facility on the Shenandoah Valley side of the Blue Ridge Mountains was assembled a group of people, mostly men; roughly 200 in count. Only very few knew, or had any connection with anyone else in attendance. They were a varied lot from the four corners of North America enticed $10,000.00 to attend a privately funded weekend retreat to discuss the impact of communicable diseases on the common citizen. Some appeared wealthy while others were obviously poor. Some were clean while others were unclean. Some were nattily attired while others were very unkempt. On Friday evening all were feeling very well fed, relaxed, and comfortable.

Among the assemblage awaiting the guests of honor were two very important groups. The first was the eight organizers of the meeting, Jake and Tanya Adams, along with Bill, Gail, Tom and Toni Jones, as well as Roger Green, and Maddy Davies. The second group of three couples had never met until earlier in the afternoon when Maddy and Roger greeted each of them as they deplaned from their flights at Baltimore Washington International (BWI) airport, but they shared a common bond; they were the parents of Janice, Paul, and Randy. They knew the purpose, and they heartily approved the planned events of this gathering, but as with the larger group, they were currently unaware of who had the staring roles. Normally, none of them were vindictive or revengeful people, but when Tom related what he had witnessed, and how their children had died, each of them individually, and with intense loathing in their hearts, had vowed to do whatever they could to extract vengeance, and obtain some degree of justice. They wanted the killers to suffer physical and mental abuse. They wanted to know who the killers were, but accepted why at this time they could not, but as part of the punishment they wanted the killers to know who they were.

Roger, standing on a quickly constructed stage holding a microphone that was connected to a sound system spoke; “May I have your attention please? Thank you. My name is Roger. I am one of your hosts for this weekend, and I want to say welcome and thank you for attending. We hope in the next 48 hours you enjoy the food, drink, and entertainment.” The crowd roared with approval. “I must make a confession to you that we brought you here under false pretenses which I will explain momentarily. Regardless of why you are here, let me assure you that each and every one was carefully screened and selected to attend. Each of you is important to the events that are about to unfold. After you hear our story and plan, if you desire to leave we will pay you the balance on your promised $10,000 and deliver you to BWI this evening. Those of you who elect to remain and participate will receive a very substantial bonus.” Roger paused to allow the applause to roll over him.

“Ladies and gentlemen the reason we are here is to extract some revenge. We are here to obtain retribution from some individuals who have done much to damage America. Along the way they have done many evil things, but toward us they committed a very heinous crime; a crime of mistreatment and death.” The crowd grew quite as Roger’s words sank into their brains. “Folks, some people are going to arrive shortly who owe mankind a debt for which death would be too painless a punishment. What they deserve is to experience what they inflicted and then have to live with it. Look around you and see the numbers. Does it sound harsh when I say we want each of the 150 plus of you to have anal sexual intercourse with each of our honorees. Let me put it another way, these people have fucked everybody else so now it is time for them to get fucked. By Sunday afternoon we want our guests to experience at least 150 cocks, dildoes, or fists up their asses. It may sound callous to think of 150 to 200 fucks in less than forty-eight hours, but before you make you decide I want you to listen to Tom. He is the only living witness.”

As Tom related his story it was possible to see the anger of the crowd grow in intensity. At each revelation they seemed to growl until Tom reached the part where the bodies were dismembered; then they gasped in revulsion. Near the end of Tom’s talk the first of the limousines arrived and came to a halt near a small cabin. It was here the guilty would remain until they received their reward.

Roger took the microphone; “You have heard the story. You may eventually discover the identity of the villains, but it will not happen this weekend. We are doing that for your protection. If there are any of you who do not feel you can remain we understand. If you will see the lady back by the swing she will make the proper arrangements” Not one person stepped away from the stage. “Here’s how this will work, each of you will make a blind draw from this bag and select a disc. On the disc are two numbers. The first number represents the person you will fuck. The second number is the order of sequence. If your disc reads 7-23 you will be the twenty-third person to fuck the ass positioned under the number seven. When every one has completed the first round of fucks, the line will shift to the next highest number, and we will start again. I will tell you now that none of you has turn number one on any of our villains. That privilege is reserved for the six people now coming on stage plus Tom. These are the parents of our dead friends, and they deserve the honor to be the first to ram their dicks and dildoes into those asshole’s assholes.” A roar of laughter and approval went up and the participants, in an orderly manner began to file past drawing their disc from the bag.

In the cabin the seven men heard all that was said outside. They understood their fate, and all of them were sorely afraid. Then two men entered grabbed one of the prisoners, placed a black hood over his face and led him outside. He was taken to a padded sawhorse that had a large numeral hanging above it from a limb, bent over stomach down, and his hands and feet were shackled to the legs. As a gesture of humanity a large glob of KY was rubbed around and into his anus; humanity for the fuckers not the fuckees. This action was repeated with each prisoner. When all seven were ready a person, some naked some not, with either an erect cock or a huge strap-on dildoe approached their head, bent over, and whispered in their ear something like “You killed my daughter. Now I’m the first of 200 who will fuck you till you are raw and bleeding. I hope you live through all this because you deserve to suffer.” The ravisher then went around back, and with no pre-stretching of any kind pushed their cock or fake cock into the appointed asshole.

The fun began, and continued almost non-stop for forty-eight hours. Each of the recipients passed out many times only to be doused with cold water and reawakened. Their anal openings never closed. One, they had no opportunity, and two, before long they were well stretched by the multitude of cocks, none of which were less than nine inches long by two inches in diameter; some were much larger. At the beginning, the men screamed in pain each time a new cock slipped past their anal ring, but over time the voices grew so hoarse and raspy they were no longer heard. Within the first hour cum and blood dripped from their assholes and ran down their legs. Hour after hour the constant pounding continued with no mercy given.

Around 2am Sunday morning the fucking was complete. Every one present had fucked every recipient. “Folks, there is no where to go until four this afternoon. If you are so inclined, feel free to fuck any and all that you desire. Don’t forget there are mouths at the other end.” It was like the party started anew as multiple pricks, dicks, cocks, Johnson’s, dildoes, and for the more refined, penises forced their way down every asshole’s throat. The second round of fucks continued until no one was able, or had the desire to fuck again. By then it was near departure time and the mass of partiers began to board chartered buses for transport to airports to catch their homeward flights. Each man and woman, as they boarded the bus, was handed $100,000.00 in cash withdrawn from the remaining balances of the personal accounts belonging to the honored guests; this action substantially reduced the amount each expected to have in their new country.

At last all that remained were the lake folks, the parents, and the guilty. Roger speaking to the stars; “Maybe you are feeling sorry for yourselves and think we have severely mistreated you, but consider that at least you’re alive. That is more than many of your victims can say. You deserve much harsher physical treatment, but as long as you follow our direction you will not get it from us. You know from our previous instructions where you are destined to live, and how much money you have to make a new life for yourself. Because of this party, given for your benefit, that money is halved. As you have learned we are a very powerful foe. Do not ever think you can fuck with us, but always keep in mind that we can and will gladly fuck with you. For the remainder of your lives you will be under constant surveillance. One final warning; never attempt a return to any modern country in the world. That means no Japan, no Australia, no country in Europe or the entire Western Hemisphere.”