Santo Diablo Pt. 08

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise showed, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this story are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of eighteen.

Santo Diablo Pt. 08

"Ben?" I grumbled, not happy. It was a surprise, but it made sense. Ben's problems were of his making, but he still held a grudge when I became a club member. I took a spot he thought was his, and even though he eventually joined, he wore that perceived slight like a wound. He never forgave me for lying to him and saving his sister from his abuse. Beth humiliated him that Thanksgiving day by shoving how well I treated the women in his face. Then the coup de gras. His sister Penny chose me as her guardian, refusing to live in the same house with him.

He had Julie kidnapped and shipped to him. She married his sister, and he wanted to hurt Penny by taking Julie away. Ben and Penny were twins, but he punished her relentlessly for no reason. No one understood why he harbored such hatred toward his sister. She was facing a life of submission and service to the club. That wasn't anything Ben should have been jealous of. When Roger and Susan put Ben in charge of Penny, it marked the beginning of the end, culminating in the events of that Thanksgiving day. It now seems plausible that it was just Ben's personality. Was he destined to become the monster he did, regardless of his upbringing?

He also had Ronald take Beth for him. There was no doubt he hated her. He found out she lied, telling him he never gave her an orgasm, that he wasn't attentive enough. She emasculated him. It also didn't help that Beth heaped praise on me. Ben and I grew up as friends, but something changed in him.

All the pieces fit into place. Having me shot was his latest attempt to get back at me and my family. With that came the realization he would never stop. That made getting Julie and Katia back home imperative. He knew us, knew what we were capable of. I had to assume that he knew of Katia. My visit to the General, while not a secret, wasn't widely advertised. There was a possibility one of us had a mole in our organization.

"We have two teams flying there now." I said to Susan on the speakerphone. All the women were there with me. "I don't care how you do it, you get Julie on the phone with me. I'll have it by my side. I need to talk to her sooner, rather than later."

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. I was still in my hospital bed, and Penny was checking me over.

"Rich, you need to keep yourself calm." Penny stressed. "You can still do damage to your head if you get too worked up."

She was correct, but all I could think about was getting Julie out of there. I should have been on a plane myself. I felt helpless, and I didn't like that feeling. My head hurt. I felt a pounding that matched my heartbeat. I know that because I could hear it in my ears. As it grew worse, I saw Penny by my IV again. I reached my hand up and grabbed her arm, stopping her.

Gritting my teeth through the pain, I said, "Penny, no. I need to stay awake for the phone call. I need to talk with Julie."

"Rich, I don't agree, but it's your call." Penny replied, not pleased. "Just close your eyes and relax."

I did, and after a few minutes, I felt a little better. Everyone talked quietly while I rested until my phone rang. Penny picked it up and passed it to me. "Rich, I have Julie." Susan informed me. "The connection isn't great, so say what you need to quickly."

I heard Julie's phone added to the conversation. "Julie, you need to get you and Katia out of there now. We received your message about Ben, and that's why you have to leave."

"Rich, we're getting close." Julie said, "Susan told me you woke up. That's great. I just need another day or two to lock him down and this will be over."

"No, you don't understand." I answered. "Ben knows you. He knows what you're capable of. Assume any information you receive is a trap. It's far too dangerous. Ben has been playing a long game, one that we're just learning about. We need to regroup and go at this another way. Please, get Katia out of there. I don't want to lose you two. Ben has done enough damage, don't let him do any more."

There was silence. I thought I lost her when she said, "Ok, Rich. You win. We will need some time to arrange transportation out."

"No need." I replied quickly. "We have two teams that will arrive in a few hours."

I told Susan to fill Julie in on the rendezvous location and ensure they get home safe. Eight hours later, I received word that Julie, Katia, and our teams were airborne and safely out of the area. Another twenty hours later, Julie and Katia walked through my door.

When Julie saw me, she ran over and jumped into bed with me. She was forty, but she always thought she was sixteen. She landed and bounced me, making me groan and wince. My head shook, which hurt like hell. Penny, who was standing there, smacked Julie on her arm and admonished her. It didn't seem to influence Julie, who buried her head in my chest.

"Rich, I thought you would die." Julie said, tears running down her face. "I didn't protect you. It was my fault, and I'm sorry."

"Julie, no one could have seen that coming." I said. "You are not to blame. Place it where it belongs; squarely on Ben. I appreciate you going after the man that shot me. We may not have gotten Ben, but that was the next best thing. Anyone else who is hired by Ben to hurt us will think twice. He is zero for three, and all the people who were involved with him are now dead or in prison."

I wasn't just saying that to make her feel better. Julie killed the man that kidnapped her and shipped her to Romania. Ronald, the FBI agent that took Beth and Amanda, was rotting in whatever hole the FBI put him in. And now, the sniper known as Mist is no longer plying his trade. Julie ensured that. Believe me, word spreads within our circles who is not to be messed with. I didn't know it, but my name was growing as someone not to cross.

I enjoyed that reputation as a member of the Assassins Motorcycle Club. However, that was by association. Richard Burkhart wasn't on anyone's radar. I had a reputation up to this point of doing what I needed to accomplish my goals. People believed I killed Wayne, the previous owner of our seaside mansion, for his human slave business. Even with that, people didn't consider me dangerous. People take out competition all the time.

Those that live in our world only pay attention to the extremely dangerous people. Most of those have high body counts. These men and women will kill anyone that gets in their way, often indiscriminately. Most of them are unstable. The second group is the people that protect their assets. I fell into the second group.

The first group, people don't trust. They conducted business with suspicion and an abundance of caution. Few people form friends, and business deals last considerably shorter. The second group are the men and women that people form business relationships with. These business deals can last decades. Small business operators look to the large operators from the second group for profit and security. I would eventually be beset with people wanting to form relationships, which benefit me.

That was a concern for the future, however. My concern now is to getting back on my feet. I couldn't walk. My right leg was functional, but my left just wouldn't do anything. I had feeling in the leg, but a hard time moving it. When I tried to put weight on it, it buckled under. I had months, at least, of grueling physical therapy to look forward to.

Penny forbid me from getting involved in the business until my head healed. My sensitivity to light and sound had to diminish first. If anyone talked above a soft voice, my head felt like it was splitting. The lights in my room were always on low, just barely enough to see.

William, the CEO of Santana, assigned a new president of IBJPN, leaving Isabella to step in and run Burkhart Shipping. They did this while I was still in a coma, and Isabella continued the job I started. She both ran the business and oversaw our government operations with Susan. Penny stepped back from overseeing Santana's medical division and devoted all of her time to me. Stephanie still liaised with the FBI and oversaw our government contracts.

Beth still oversaw my personal accounts, but with me not using them, it was just basic bookkeeping. During my time in a coma, her need for me to run her life disappeared. My assassination attempt shocked Beth back to normal. The old Beth returned, but she didn't have a job. That was ok with her. She went through a lot in her life and looked forward to spending some time relaxing. She found her purpose with her grandkids. They became her focus, and she took on a new mantle. She oversaw all the household staff and nannies in our residence.

We had two places that qualified as a mansion. We lived in our residential mansion, which we just referred to as our residence, and that's where our kids lived. Our seaside mansion, or Seaside as we called it, was the home base of our illegal shipping operations. Deborah, or Omega if you're using her slave name, ran Seaside.

Julie came back from Estonia with Katia alive, but not unscathed. She killed dozens of men along the way to finding Ben. That took its toll. She was in more pain, and Penny told her she's lucky nothing tore. Her insides were a bundle of mesh, holding everything together. She had sutures upon sutures, and it was at the point that if something pulled loose, or started bleeding, Penny doubted she could stop it. Julie was a walking time bomb internally.

Isabella saw an opportunity. Susan, the head of our security division, was in her sixties. She was still going strong, but not getting any younger. We didn't have a suitable replacement for her if something happened, and Isabella thought Julie would fit. She had the field experience, and with Susan's tutelage, could step in once Susan retired.

That was how Julie finally left the field for the last time. Her traveling days were over, at least for business. She moved temporarily to the East Coast to train with Susan until she got her feet under her. That took her a year. During that time, we expanded our West Coast headquarters and put in another underground bunker to serve as a second command center. Susan would operate our East Coast command center, while Julie would oversee our West Coast. This would allow us to expand our operations, and allow us to have teams in multiple places at once with full support.

That year passed and my physical therapy crawled along. My sound sensitivity improved, and I could hold normal conversations. Anything over that, about 65 decibels, caused my head to ache. They fit me with special hearing aids that worked opposite to what normal ones do. These took voices and relayed them in a lower volume to me, while any other sound was muffled. Sort of like noise canceling headphones.

My light sensitivity diminished to where I could sit in a normal room. Sunlight, however, blinded me. My head felt like it would explode. They fit me with contacts that shut out 75% of the light. These were photosensitive, and would darken in sunlight and lighten when I went inside. Even inside, they were still partially shaded.

Where did we get this technology? Nicole. Remember the lab I set up for her? During the intervening years since she moved in with Brian, she was busy experimenting. She didn't have a focus, often going in whichever direction that caught her fancy. I took medications that spurred the production of enzymes that allowed my brain to rewire faster. She developed a leg brace that worked with my neural impulses, stiffening when I need it to, and loosening when I wanted to move.

All of this was experimental, and I was the guinea pig. That leg brace was necessary. I learned to walk, but I was very unsteady. I needed a cane just to have a chance. My walking time was limited, and I spent most of my time in a wheelchair. I was not in the mindset of accepting that, and I walked as much as my body would let me. I saw steady improvement, but I didn't know where the improvement would stop. I knew I may never run again, and that was fine. I just didn't want to be confined.

That brings up what upset me the most. Sex. I lived for sex; I breathed sex. Women surrounded me and I couldn't have sex. Oh, my penis was operational. That wasn't the problem. My problem was the act of sex. Anything that raised my blood pressure hurt my head. Any impact or rough movement gave me a splitting headache. Even something that caused an erection would increase pressure in my head. I tried to masturbate, but there was no way. The pain in my head was too intense.

Since I lost my virginity to Julie, I don't think a day passed that I didn't orgasm at least once. If the studies that link a lower chance of prostate cancer to regular ejaculations, my prostate was safe for two or three lifetimes. If you count the ten months I was in a coma, combined with my time rehabilitating, I went a little over two years without an orgasm. I could finally achieve one, but like everything else in my recovery, it was with great effort.

As my head healed, I had Penny attempt to jerk me off periodically. When I finally orgasmed, it left me with a splitting headache for an hour, but it was worth it. Penny was not so sure it was, but she relented. She knew it was good for my outlook, and anything that raised my spirits and made me want to work harder, she was for.

I still had damage in my brain, but that would be with me for the rest of my life. After years of recovery, we would measure any further improvements in small increments. I was now in my mid-forties, and my kids were in elementary school. In the preceding years, Stephanie, Penny, and Isabella all had more kids. With my inability to impregnate them regularly, we artificially inseminated them. It was my sperm, of course, but my inability to have sex made this necessary. Each time I gave a sample, I paid the price in pain. For more kids, however, it wasn't a question.

Isabella had two more kids, Stephanie three, and Penny two. There were five girls and two boys. That tallied four boys and six girls in total. I had ten kids, and by the time I was back at my job, the oldest were in elementary school. Isabella expanded our illegal shipping business, making contacts and forging business deals. She used our security teams strategically to protect our assets and push into new markets. My reputation was growing.

Isabella thought it benefited us if people thought I was still running the show. She told everyone she was just the face of the operation, and that I was calling the shots. I became known as a recluse, and a brutal one at that. Word spread that I killed over a hundred people in ten different countries during my rehabilitation. No, Isabella didn't kill that many. Her count was under ten, but rumors have a way of growing ever more grandiose with each retelling.

Word that they shot me never went out wide. It ran on a few news cycles, but quickly faded from the public's consciousness when no further updates were reported. No one knew exactly where I was. It was as if I fell off the face of the earth. When people grew suspicious, thinking that I was dead, I was well enough to step back into the picture on a limited basis.

I still couldn't travel, so they had to come to me. At first, I did video calls. People could see me and talk to me, but I was always behind my desk in a darkened room. The people that came to see me had the same image, but sometimes I was in a wheelchair. The scar left on my face from the bullet added to my mystique. All I needed was a cat and a bad haircut, and I would be a perfect movie villain.

I never traveled during this time. Penny was unsure of what the change of pressure would do to my head at high altitudes. I wasn't about to stay grounded for the rest of my life, so eventually I chanced on it. It wasn't too bad. Sure, my head hurt, but Penny gave me some meds to help. That put me back on the map.

I'm sure you think we forgot about Ben. Quite to the contrary, he was a primary focus. We sent Black Widows and security teams out to gather as much information as they could. Periodically, we would confirm a location, only to have him disappear again. He was operating on his own turf, which put us at a disadvantage.

Over the years, we gathered enough information to put together a pretty good timeline of his movements and life since he disappeared from the Assassins after almost killing the woman they gave him guardianship over. After walking out the door, it didn't take him a week before he was in France. He moved immediately from there across Europe, not stopping anywhere long enough to raise flags. The club was actively searching for him during this time, so he had to stay on the run. After the club disbanded, he settled in Eastern Europe.

He had enough money to buy his first slaves. His plan was to sell them at a profit, but Ben couldn't contain himself. Of the three women he bought, two ended up dead. The third he sold, but at a loss because of her mistreatment. Ben was a sadist, and no woman was safe around him. This caught the attention of the Koledus mafia from Estonia. He was the type of person they were looking for. A small criminal outfit at the time, they needed someone that could enforce their will and put the fear of God into anyone that got in their way.

It was a perfect job for Ben. Killing their enemies wasn't enough. In order to intimidate people, they had to make them suffer. Ben's specialty was torturing women in front of their families. Ben was absolutely brutal. I will not go into details, but he became known as the Angel of Death. They shortened this to Angel over the years. He was no angel, but he liked the irony.

My club name was Diablo and I saved women. His name was opposite of mine, and he tortured them. This juxtaposition amused him. It sickened me. I hated that part of his behavior was caused by his desire to play off of my club name. How many women did he kill because we saved women?

His stature within Koledus grew with each year. He never joined them, but remained a sort of contractor. They paid him well, and his fortune grew. He had security of his own, and he equipped them well. He bought slaves, who I'm sure lived a miserable life. None lasted long, and he sold the ones that lived to other slavers. I shudder to imagine what he would have done had he gotten his hands on Julie and Beth.

With our attention, Ben had to retreat to Estonia. He wasn't able to travel freely, even with his security. He was only safe within the borders because the Koledus mafia protected him. We knew he still contracted with them, and he left a trail of bodies that proved it. The government knew who he was, but the mafia exerted too much influence on the government for them to do anything about it.

My plan wasn't to attack Ben directly. That was too dangerous. Our operatives collected intel, and we killed anyone we could link to Ben professionally. If someone hired him, we killed that person. If Ben sought help from someone, that person disappeared. I was trying to isolate him and take away his support. We had him bottled up, and I was content to keep it that way. We were shrinking his world, and eventually he would have to come out and play.

Katia returned with Julie, but not to the life she left. Her time in Estonia opened her eyes to what she was missing. We purposely kept this life away from her. Sure, Julie trained her, but it was never with the intent that she use it offensively. That changed.