Special Weapons and Tactics Ch. 05

"Fascinating - but what does all this have to do with me "personally"?

"That gets us back to the O'Donnells. We are investigating surreptitiously John Fitzpatrick O'Donnell as a possible "buyer" for Gettysburg. I know he has coveted that painting for a long time. One of his forebears was a Confederate Captain killed at "the Angle" and depicted quite clearly in the painting. John was once one of my closest friends and has seen the painting many times, but we have had a falling out. Over business. Over litigation. And over my wife. Well, now my ex-wife and Mrs. JFO. He seduced her while we were married and I have a suspicion he fucked her really just to fuck me because I would not sell him that painting."

What could I say? That I had sort of been there and had that done to me as well?

So I said nothing and he continued.

"We are listening to some of the things he is saying - maybe with ways and means not strictly admissible in court, understand? Do you care?"

"Not really. We're both officers of the court and I'm sure you know what you are doing."

That would be the "11th Commandment" - don't get caught.

"We've heard your name come up - and also a certain Susan Thornton. Your wife? Sister?"

"My ex-wife who is now sharing a house with me in Mobile, anyway..."

"Ah. Perhaps you know John's son - Sam O'Donnell?"

I really didn't like where this seemed to be heading.

"Yes. I've heard the name."

"The O'Donnell's with their 'JFO' BS really do think they are the Southern Kennedys - and like those Boston bastards the O'Donnell men all have a certain cavalier attitude towards women and other men's wives. Just sport to them and the word 'misogynist' doesn't begin to describe them. Yes - they all seem to have a certain Irish charm but also a very dark, mean and even sadistic streak as well. Plus the power they have with some pretty large wealth - if not quite in that 'vast' category."

"Is this just some personal vendetta angst talking or do you really think this JFO character is behind it all?" I had to ask.

Kevin answered, "Believe me, we've all thought that and tried to just be objective about it and have a LOT of other investigations going. But this just keeps being the one with some hits. Some curious things and inconsistencies we can't really share with you now because really explaining the significance of them all would just take too much time."

George said, "We wanted to have this meeting though for two reasons. If we get any info on a safe/stash house around here we want your SWAT team to do the takedown. That's both the legal and right thing to do but also I am very confident your team is as good or better than what I could put together anyway. Secondly, did you know Sam O'Donnell seems to be missing?"

No, I actually didn't know that so I didn't have to worry about lying and any 'tells'.

"No, I had not heard that."

"Sam is John's fair haired boy and heir apparent - and apparently just as much a "Don Juan" - he thinks of himself - as dear old Dad. And we have heard John talking about Susan Thornton being one of Sam's last conquests before Sam dropped off the radar screen. And John's own investigative folks informed him Susan is staying with you at...let me see...Jeannene Francois's house in North Mobile. Right?"

"What the fuck?"

"Indeed. They may want to talk to Susan. They may want to talk with you. They may not be - strictly legal or nice - about it."

"Fuck. The son of a bitch drugged and raped my ex-wife and she didn't really report it to the local cops. But I found out about it and started making some unofficial inquires on Sam-fucking-O'Donnell. Maybe he heard about that and decided to move elsewhere and stay low for a while. But if any other assholes come around and start bothering Susan or me - well..."

"Your concern is justified, unfortunately. This is really what this heads-up meeting is all about. Take this burner phone with you and Kevin will keep you almost immediately up to date if or when we learn anything else specifically about Susan or you. Just a precaution. That's the best I can do right now. And I really do apologize for the stain on Southern gentry that the few like the O'Donnell's blight. They had descended into redneck white trash until prohibition. That's where their new initial wealth came from. Rum running from Cuba using Mobile Bay."

Crap - more bad news for Susan, and Jenny had to know as well. Frenchie and I would have to figure something out as far as some trusted men being around every day when we couldn't be there. JFO sounded like one of those "Golden Rule" type rich assholes - the whole "might makes right" and "those that got the gold make the rules" types.

This could be serious. I could see it going down in many ways that might be difficult to counter. Paid off Baldwin County detectives - which there might be - could show up and request Susan accompany them back to Gulf Shores for interrogation concerning sexual misconduct allegations or Sam's disappearance and then merely turn her over to O'Donnell's goons.

If the goons themselves showed up they could just disappear. That might be the only way to send O'Donnell a message. Maybe.

I definitely needed to keep Butler in my corner as vast wealth might counter not quite vast wealth - but Butler was apparently handicapped actually having some ethics if not morals and his own 'Southern Gentleman' self-image. Apparently he had NOT gotten even with O'Donnell stealing his wife. Or maybe Butler got the best end of that deal anyway. He certainly seemed intent on getting his painting(s) back! More so than his ex-wife.

Or maybe Sam would just reappear and that would end all this.

I explained all this to Frenchie and had just reached this last thought when Frenchie said, "Oops!"

"Oops? What does THAT mean?" I asked.

"Uh, Johnnie - I don't think Sam is likely to show up anymore, now..."

"Why would you say that?" I asked a tad fearfully.

"Well, me and some of the boys were talking about it last weekend when we were out frog gigging and drinking - the whole Susan and then Jenny thing - and we decided to meet this Sam O'Donnell and talk to him..."

First of all, I knew 'frog gigging' was a euphemism for illegal alligator poaching - but the whole Gulf Coast alligator population was so large that alligators were just a dangerous nuisance now in most areas. A little thinning of those masses didn't hurt anyone at all - except the whole "Earth First" anti-humans nutcase crowd. Secondly, I had finally heard pretty much the whole Jenny story with her very handsome but mean first husband and his abuse and rape of her the last days of their marriage - and how he had suddenly just disappeared and "abandoned" her and his son. A little mysterious but people just disappear all the time in the USA nowadays. Especially ex-husbands skipping out on child support and/or alimony obligations.

"What? What happened?"

"Well, we drove over there and got Sammy boy's "favorite hangouts" info from a couple of my relatives and trusted friends in the police department - and he wasn't hard to find. I pulled my badge on him and verified his ID and interrupted his "date" with yet another drunk or already drugged MILF type.

"Then we dragged him out and I cuffed him in the bed of my truck and we went for a drive. And then for a little jon boat ride into 20-mile swamp. It's only 20 miles in one direction - long not wide. So Sam COULD have walked out OK if he knew the right direction to walk. We even left him his clothes and cowboy boots. Just cut his pants legs off and maybe nicked his legs a little bit doing that. He wasn't bleeding heavy, honest! Sam didn't seem like a swamp kind of guy though. He was crying pretty pitifully when we left him there in just 2 feet of water about 1AM in the morning. We just wanted to scare him and went back the next morning to get him. All he had to do was climb a tree for the rest of the night but I guess he couldn't figure that out! We looked and hollered for him, but...Poor guy. Guess he didn't make it. Just like Jenny's ex..."

"God damn it, Frenchie! Any chance at all he's still alive and can be retrieved? Rich, mean assholes like his father can be a big problem..."

"I'll have some of the boys do another search but I really doubt it. Sorry. I know it was wrong but that son-of-a-bitch was just too much like Jenny's ex and I really like Susan too. She didn't deserve that..."

All I could do is hang my head. We weren't supposed to be vigilantes ever. But somehow rich and "handsome" assholes just seemed to get away with so much nowadays. Maybe some things like this could just be considered Karma or something. Anyway, looked like Sam probably wasn't going to miraculously reappear so some more of Frenchie's friends and relatives might be needed to keep an eye on Jenny's place during the day.

Frenchie said he'd take care of it and Susan would never notice a thing. Jenny and Carla would both know and they could both shoot and had guns well hidden and locked away from the kids but could get them and use them if need be.

******

It was just two days later after this conversation between John and Frenchie when a Baldwin County Sheriff's car turned off the asphalt county road and started down the almost one mile long gravel driveway to Jennie's house. It was spotted immediately by the camo fatigues dressed friend of Frenchie's - and he phoned Jenny with a heads up while radioing his buddy stationed much closer to the house. He then jogged through the woods and got into position with his scoped .223 varmint rifle to cover the front door of the house.

Two sheriff's deputies got out of the car and knocked on the front door.

"Yes?" Jenny asked.

"Is a Mrs. Susan Thornton here?" The taller deputy asked.

"Yes. What's this about?" Jenny knew some armed help was on over watch and decided to delay as long as possible to make sure everyone was in best position.

"We just need to ask her some questions, please. Can we come in?"

"No. Wait here and I'll get her. It will be just a few minutes, please."

Jenny shut the door and told Carla to get her "best friend" and also Susan - and make sure the kids were all upstairs. Jenny then unlocked a small "broom closet" and got her own "best friend" - a loaded .22 semi-auto Remington Nylon 66. It almost looked like a BB or pellet gun with it's plastic stock - but was a highly accurate and reliable rifle. Arctic hunters and especially Native Americans used to favor this rifle because of it's cheap ammo but cold and wet weather imperviousness. Loaded with .22 long rifle hollow points, this rifle killed even polar bears with close in head shots, as well as seals and walruses and even the occasional moose.

Susan did not know the possible threats she faced and so could act perfectly normal. Carla had a half hidden .357 magnum revolver and Susan didn't notice that or the .22 rifle Jenny had leaned against the wall just inside the door.

Jenny said to Susan, "Just a couple of cops want to ask you some questions."

Which didn't bother Susan at all since she was around good guy cops all the time.

Jenny opened the door and Susan went outside to talk. Jenny stayed in the doorway to listen.

"Hi. What do you need?" Susan asked.

"Do you know a Sam O'Donnell?"

Susan's heart rate immediately sped up.

"Yes. I wish I didn't, but I do."

"What is the nature of your relationship?"

"We were just casual acquaintances. We had dinner together two nights in Gulf Shores and that was it. I haven't seen him since and don't expect to. Nor do I want to."

"When was the last time you saw or spoke with him?"

"It was a Monday night 3 weeks ago. I left Gulf Shores the next day and came here."

"And you don't know where he is now?"

"Don't know and don't care."

"I'm sorry but you are going to have to come back to Gulf Shores with us now just to go over everything."

Susan's heart rate really sped up at this point. The whole conversation had not been fun and she just wanted the whole Sam O'Donnell thing behind her and totally forgotten.

Jenny reached down and grabbed something next to the door. Carla also appeared in the doorway with one hand hidden kind of behind her.

Then suddenly a loud and deep bass voice said, "That's not going to happen."

And the deputies looked behind them at an older rough looking and surprisingly small man - for such a deep voice - holding an old M1 Carbine halfway pointing at them.

"Are you crazy? Threatening cops with that pop gun?"

"This things never jammed on me and can spit out 15 shots in 5 seconds. Want to see? Never mind. It's not me you have to worry about but the .223 scope that's on your heads right now..."

The cops got all shifty eyed at that point looking around.

"All right you asshole - we'll be back with reinforcements."

"Nah, I don't think so dickwads. Her husband's a Mobile PD SWAT Lieutenant. Did you know that? You Baldwin pussies come back here and you will just disappear and that will be that. Think about it while getting your asses out of here right now. Also think about how many guys we got here you won't ever even see - and you won't hear the shot that kills you, either."

Jenny had grabbed Susan and already pulled her back inside the house. Neither woman showed their weapons but didn't back down either. The deputies would have a hard time filing any formal complaints or charges against people they could actually identify. They had a lot to think about on the drive back and decided they wouldn't come back here again no matter how much the fucking O'Donnell's offered them. They knew the risks associated with going against other cops outside their own jurisdiction - and especially amoral cops like they were. They had no idea if Susan's husband was like them, but it certainly seemed like he might be and they also didn't like messing with large Cajun families, either.

Susan was almost in tears after the deputies drove off and wanted to know "what the hell is going on!?!"

Jenny had to fill her in at that point and covered all the basics - including how worried John was about her and the arrangements for protection of everyone that had been made. Of course she didn't mention what HAD probably been Sam's fate. Karma is a bitch.

"Please try not to think or worry about this too much. This is probably all that will happen and John will fill you in tonight with everything he knows, I'm sure."

*************

Susan - one week later:

I woke up in a huge bed in a large rustic looking bedroom. Maybe a log cabin. There was a huge painting of some old battle hanging on a wall.

I was very confused and couldn't remember exactly how I had gotten here or where here was. I also had a bit of a headache and my pussy seemed very used and maybe filled with semen. Was this somehow the trip with John to see Rachel - alone - we had talked about? I just couldn't remember.

Then a strange naked older man I had never seen walked in and smiled at me. He looked vaguely familiar with his facial features, and his dick looked pretty large even though flaccid.

He looked at me and smirked in a commanding way as I pulled the sheets up to cover my nakedness.

"Ready for another round?" And his prick started engorging...