Tank's Revenge Ch. 01

He slowly went to her side, the techs and officers assisting the one he kicked watching. He sat on the side of the bed, leaned down and kissed her forehead. He whispered he loved her, and he hoped she forgave him for not being there. One lone tear was seen running down his cheek. Standing abruptly, he faced the door looking at the onlookers, his jaw clenched, his eyes were cold. Walking over to the tech he asked for gloves, which he didn't hesitate to hand over. Mark put them on and walked over to a chest of drawers, opening it and pulling out a quilt. He opened it and put it over his wife's body. Taking off the gloves he turned and walked swiftly through the onlookers down the stairs.

Stella and Reynolds were waiting for him at the bottom, he noticed them but looked past them as the coroner walked through the door. Walking past them, he approached the coroner, leaned into him saying, "Treat them with the upmost respect. Understand?" The coroner nodded his head and Mark walked away.

**********

July 6th, 2018

Summer days in Texas are usually brutal, very humid and unbearably hot, this day was not usual. Standing inside the back of the church taking in the scene before him, Mark felt lost. His entire life had been taken from him in a blink of an eye. There were no leads, and the investigation was leading to a home invasion turned murder. Mark wasn't so sure, but he wasn't working the case. Maria and the kids were his only family, as he hadn't spoken to his mom or sister since his dad died, he felt truly alone.

Patton and Sarah came behind him just arriving and patted him on his shoulder. "How you holding up Tank?" Patton asked.

Mark turned and faced them with a stone face. His eyes were blood shot, but other than that, you could not tell something traumatic had happened in his life. "Patton, Sarah, thanks for coming. Maria and the kids would be happy you were here." Sarah started sobbing, turning into her husband. Patton had no words for either her or his best friend. Mark turned and started walking down the long aisle toward the three wooden caskets in front of the alter. His mother in law crying in the front pew, he sat beside her, putting an arm around her, as she had grown fond of him over the years.

As the service ended and they were in the limousine, going to the cemetery, his mother in law looked over at him. "I want to blame you so bad. You should have been there to protect them." She dabbed her eyes then looked up at him. "I see you though and the pain you are obviously feeling, and I can't blame you or even hate you. I know you would replace yourself in those boxes to have them back." She looked out the window as they pulled into the cemetery making their way to the freshly dug gravesites.

As the service by the gravesite was short, Mark stood back while mourners filed by until it was only, he and Patton watching the caskets being lowered into the ground. Mark uttered words to nobody, "It should have been me my loves. I'm sorry, please forgive me." Without saying anything Mark walked past Patton and kept walking down the road toward the exit of the cemetery.

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

August 15th, 2018

The shots rang out fast and were efficient hitting the target making a large hole dead center. Switching from the .40 caliber to his AR15, the shots continually hitting dead center; the hole growing wider. He quickly picked up his M4 carbine and fired short burst at the target hitting dead center until the clip was empty. He sat it down, picking up the M2010 sniper rifle taking aim at another target 400 yards away and squeezed the trigger, hitting the target in the center.

Setting the weapon down, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Grabbing the water bottle, he chugged the contents, tasting the cool refreshing liquid as the heat of the desert bared down on him. He had never felt more focused in his life, and that was an understatement as he always felt he was a focused person. This was different though, as he had an agenda, and nothing holding him back, no thoughts, no pain.

Weeks after their death, Mark was numb, living day to day. He took his two weeks off that was supposed to be fun and relaxation with the family and did his own investigation into their deaths instead. He had no idea he was being watched by the local police as well as the FBI. He was ultimately suspended and stripped of his badge. Mark felt as he could not get any lower in life, no job, no family, and depression set in deeply. He stayed in the house his family died, and the memories of their fun times and awful times overwhelmed him. He refused to go to the second floor, instead sleeping on the sofa downstairs.

An unexpected phone call is what woke him up, and it was from an unexpected person, his mother in law. She wanted to speak to him in person, and it had to happen that day. As he entered her house, he noticed two men sitting in her lounge, and automatically he became defensive, wanting to pounce on both. She spoke, "Don't Mark, they are my friends." She lowered her eyes, and walked over to him, putting her hand on his back and walking him over to the lounge sitting him down on the couch as she sat beside him.

"This is Mark, my son in law." She introduced to the two men. She turned to Mark, "This is Mario, Marias uncle." Marks eyebrows raised not knowing she had an uncle. "This is Omar, her dad."

Mark turned to her, "What? Did she...?"

She held up her hand. "No...there are reasons I am sure will be explained today. They came to me, as both have been in Mexico for the past twenty-five years. Only the past month have they heard what went on. Omar and Mario are way too old to do something about it, so they came to you." She then motioned to Omar.

"Si, I appreciate you taking care of our daughter the way you had. I want you to know that I hold you at no fault for her death." Omar held out his hand and Mark took it, and as he did, he noticed the tattoo on his wrist, the symbol of the drug cartel he infiltrated two years ago, and things didn't go well for anyone during the raid. Pulling his hand back quickly, Omar noticed the look on Mark's face. "Mi hijo, I assure you I am not a threat to you. To answer you, I once was an enforcer for the Chavez Tejada cartel many years ago. I have been retired as they say for quite some time, presumed dead. Mario my brother helped me get out before it became too dangerous for Maria and Gabriella, her mother."

Mark stared at the two men, reading their body language and the pupils in their eyes, trying to see if they were telling the truth. He could not see any deception, but years of being in the cartel could have given them an upper hand in fooling those they wanted to hurt. "Say I believe you Omar, why are you here now, obviously exposing yourself to help me?"

The two brothers looked at each other, and as Omar looked to the ground, Mario spoke up. "You see, Omar is not in the cartel, but I still am." Mark shifted on the couch, his hand going to the holster in the back of his pants. "Sir please! Let me explain. I am only a driver for a lieutenant's wife, that's all I have ever been. I only drive her around, which has been over twenty-five years now. We see each other more than she sees her own husband, and we have become very close. She is the one who gave me this information we bring."

Omar lifted his head and began to speak to both Gabriella and Mark. "The cartel put a hit on your family because of an operation you led a few years ago. Apparently, you killed the youngest son of Chavez and he wanted you to feel his pain. They put a contract out for two million dollars and a local gang did their dirty work. I am so sorry I was ever affiliated with these people who would do the things to my daughter and my grandchildren." Omar was wiping his eyes as tears formed.

Gabriella went to him and hugged Omar trying to comfort him. Mark glared back at Mario. "Do you trust her?" Mario nodded, and Mark asked, "Do you know which gang? Where can I find them?"

Mario nodded and said it was the Sureno 13 out of Fort Worth and could be found in some apartments in Grand Prairie. He slid a file over to Mark with the info he had. As Mark investigated the file, Omar turned and grabbed a case from behind his chair and placed it on the table before Mark. Mark set the file beside him and looked at Omar, wondering what was being laid out before him.

Omar leaned forward looking at Mark in the eyes, and for the first time, Mark could see the anger venomous side coming out of the older man. "Mi hijo, this is $500,000 thousand cash in that case. Mario and I will fund your crusade against our common enemies. Consider this an advancement on the contract. Start from the bottom and work your way to the top. Let nothing or nobody get in your way, I want these hijos de putas to pay! Do we understand each other?" Mark nodded at him and looked over at Gabriella. She nodded at him as well as she placed her hand over Marks.

Mark stood up and went to the two men telling them not to bother standing, and he would be in touch soon. He leaned down giving Gabriella a kiss on the cheek, grabbing the case and file, walking out of the villa. As he climbed into his Tahoe, he put the keys in the ignition and before turning it, picked up his phone. He scrolled through his contacts and stopped at one he knew would have no issue helping him even if they hadn't talked since the funeral. He clicked the call button and waited until the person answered on the other line with a 'Hello.' "Hey, it's Tank, I am asking for that favor you owe me. Meet me in two days, talk to you later."

**********

September 1st, 2018

Detective Bobby Robbins pulled up to the known club for the Sureno 13. He first noticed the bullet holes along the south wall with blood splatter painting the white background behind it. Taking off his sunglasses, he slowly put them in his shirt pocket as Sergeant Silva walked up to him. "What we got Silva?"

Silva ran his hand through his graying hair, the sweat pouring off his forehead. "I really don't know Bobby, all I know is it looks like a gang thing, but the only bodies we have are Sureno's and you would think they would have at least popped off a round or two." They walked into the club together, and as the seasoned detective looked around, he found a scene of merciless death. There were at least two dozen dead that he could find, and not to mention what might be upstairs. To the right of him, he found a rookie officer vomiting his guts into a trashcan from the atrocity before them.

Detective Robbins walked over to an investigator from the crime lab and asked if they found anything. They looked up to him with a dumbfound look. "It isn't what we have found, but what we haven't found. Whoever did this was professionals. They left no brass, prints, no forced entry, and as far as I can tell, most of the shots were head and or Center mass shots."

Detective Robbins turned on his heels and walked upstairs and looked at the scene. In the corner he found a piece of black fabric, looking like it was stuck in the door jam. He took a pair of gloves out of his pocket and grabbed the fabric, bringing it up for closer inspection. He knew exactly what kind of fabric this had belonged to, as he recognized it from his time in the military. He knew this was no gang war or retaliation, but someone with the same training as him.

***********

Mario called Mark two weeks later to let the dust settle. He informed him that he did indeed get the correct persons involved with the heinous crime against his family. Mark had a new mission now, and he was going to find a way to make every cartel pay for what they have done to his family and families like his. Dragging the lifeless body of one of the gang members into his house, he pulled all his teeth, then cut his fingertips off. Loading up the old Chevy box van with everything he needed, he laid the body in the kitchen where maximum damage would be. He set the timer on the microwave and removed the gas line.

He was going to erase his whole life and hope that everyone would think he was dead. Last thing he needed to do was put his wallet into the dead man's back pocket. Mario and Omar had already set up a fake identification, passport and credit cards, so it would be easy to take on a new identity. His new name was Mark Lee Cassidy, from New Jersey. He pulled away from the house, and within one minute the explosion rocked the neighborhood, as fire erupted out of what used to be his home. He knew the blast wouldn't hurt any neighbors as their house was back and away from everyone. He never looked back in the mirror as the van sped down the highway, destination Oklahoma City.

Upon arrival Mark pulled into the old warehouse and closed the overhead door. Standing in the middle of the floor was the same friend he knew since high school, the valedictorian Scott Maywood. Scott had gone to MIT and became an Engineer at some Research company that worked on military contracts and for Boeing. He owed Mark for helping him to get a date and getting laid for prom. Mark was happy to do it for the guy, after all they were friends before Mark became a star athlete.

"Damn Tank, you leaned up since I last seen you. What's all this about anyway?" As he walked over to shake the large hand stuck out to greet him.

Mark smiled his trademark half smirk, "Scotty, it's better for both me and you that I don't tell you." The look on Scotts face told Mark that he was ok with the decision, but he still worried about the man in front of him. "Did you get everything done like I asked?"

Scotts face widened into his signature geeky smile, "You know you can always count on me. After all I did marry a cheerleader because of you. I was surprised at the favor you wanted to cash in though." Mark just nodded at the shorter man. Scott continued, "Well it's over here, exactly to your specifications with a bit of modifications even you will enjoy."

"Just stick to what I will understand Scotty," Mark slapped the man on his shoulder lightly.

Scotty snorted, something he always did when he laughed, but continued. "As you can see, I was able to find you one Chevy Suburban Z71 Midnight Special. All blacked-out wheels, exterior trim, and special badging. Windows are tinted to all U.S. Specifications, and of course, bullet proof as you asked." Mark stood back and admired the vehicle and looked where the hood was raised. "Ah yes you are interested in what's under the hood. My friend you have a 6.2-liter V8 rated for 420 hp and 460 lb.-ft of torque matched with a 6-speed auto transmission, with four-wheel drive. Those are some of the modifications just for you."

"Scotty, I have to hand it to you, it's more than I expected."

"Mark, Mark, I'm not done showing you the vehicle. Come to the driver's door." As they come over to the drivers' side, the door is open, and Scotty is holding a scanner looking thing. "Mark, put your fingers on the pads here." Mark was hesitant and looked at Scotty with reluctance. "Trust me buddy." Mark finally put his fingers on the pad, and Scotty hit some buttons, then unhooked the machine from somewhere under the dash.

He closed the door and started to explain to Mark what he did. "Most vehicles have a security system, but this one is really sophisticated. You have the key fob still that sets the factory alarm system but watch this." Scott puts his hand on the door handle, and he can't open the door no matter how hard he tried. "Mark why don't you try to open it." Mark stepped up and grabbed the handle and the door opened smoothly." Scott could tell from his friends face he had him speechless. "Sensors on the door handles only allow you to open from the outside, unless you turn off the function."

"Wow! I'll bite though, how am I going to turn the function off Scotty, snapping my fingers?"

"Funny you should ask; you see that right there." He was pointing to what looked like the glove box. "That my friend is a built-in computer that controls anything on this vehicle, and you also have the availability to bounce off towers to be undetected if need be." Mark looked at him suspiciously. "I figured since you needed this type of vehicle and paid me in cash, it was something dangerous and you didn't want to be found when the shit hit the fan so to speak."

"Scotty, I can't thank you enough. Do you have manual or something, because I really need to get on the road, people to see, places to go you know?"

"Sure, just power up the computer and it will ask for a new password. Here are the keys, can I ask where you're heading?"

"I think I'm going to see family; you know Florida where my mom is living." Mark started to transfer things from his van into the backseat of the Suburban. Scott knew Mark very well and could tell he wasn't heading to Florida. In the back of his mind he wondered if he was involved in the shooting a few weeks ago in Grand Prairie Tx but hadn't the heart to ask. Mark finished, hugged his friend and jumped into the Suburban and took off. This wouldn't be the last time he would see Mark he figured. Smiling, he locked up the warehouse and went home.

********

September 30th, 2018

Detective Robbins stood among the other fifteen members of the Dallas/Fort Worth gang task force. There had been more massacres in the past two weeks, and they had pulled Robbins in as he was the detective working on the first scene.

The captain spoke while everyone listened, "I don't get it folks. We are looking at five different mass shootings involving one to two shooters. These people are so good that they don't allow the gangs to get a shot off. This precision is not what we have seen before, so anyone have any leads or ideas?"

One of the task force members spoke up, "The word on the streets is that the cartel is cleaning their territory making waves for a new and improved force to come into the area."

Another spoke, "I have on good intel that this is all a revenge killing; something to do with a missing daughter."

Robbins listened to all the theories and just shook his head, his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. The captain noticed him in the corner of the room and held up his hand. "What about you Robbins, any ideas or theories?"

Detective Robbins raised his head looking around the room with just his eyes. Every person's attention had been directed to him, and he felt uneasy for a moment. He sighed and finally spoke, "Yeah captain, I do have a theory, but I have been shot down by every member of this task force, and my own commanding officer at my precinct. Nobody wants to hear my opinion around here."

The captain shook his head, "I haven't heard it, speak it now Robbins."

"Ok," Robbins walked out of the corner of the room slowly making his way to the front. "The precisions of these raids tell me that the person or persons are highly trained, maybe even by our military. All the victims have had either head shots or center body mass wounds, so we know that they are expert shooters. We also know they are stealthy, because the victims in the last two shootings had lookouts within a mile radius."

Robbins gets to the front of the room facing everyone, as he sat on a stool in front of the white board. "If we investigate all gang activity in the past three years, it has been petty theft, or some minor drug offense, nothing like murder, kidnapping, or rape, except on July 1st, 2018. There was a brutal home invasion at an FBI agents' home. This scene was as brutal as I have ever seen, as both children were executed, and both the women were raped several times. The wife could not be identified except through fingerprints. Then two weeks after the investigation of our first gang massacre, the same FBI agent who had recently retired, was blown up in his own home. Does anyone call this coincidence?"