The Hogue Dossier

I'm Back! If you haven't read the other parts of this storyline, it won't mean much to you. The next installment will be posted two day from this now, in NonConsent. Thanks for your time.

Part five. If you chased me through all the categories so far, I admire your persistence.

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Dr. Jillian Parker sat at her desk, head in hand, wondering how she had gotten so far away from the life course she had envisioned.

It was a rhetorical question, she could look back and remember exactly when she made the wrong decision or took the wrong action, realizing even as they happened she would end up tragically.

She was an adrenalin junkie. Skydiving, bungee jumping, black diamond skier, the closer to death she was the more alive she felt. She tried to cut back after she married and had children, but eventually she gave in and just hid it from them.

When she was approached from some very powerful men with less than respectable professions to do some work, she jumped in wholeheartedly. Most were educated, urbane, well mannered. But the aura of power was like an aphrodisiac, and soon she was sharing a bed with several.

Her husband found out and objected. Her friends tried to persuade him to leave the status quo alone, but he persisted.

They broke a few bones, but her husband was no idiot and soon authorities that they couldn't control took interest.

Her playmates went to jail, she got lucky and went to divorce court. Because most of her activities couldn't be verified and her friends protected her she kept her license to practice, but was put on probation. Her partners asked her to leave, pointedly. So she struck out on her own.

Despite her personal life she was a very good physciatrist, and slowly built a good practice. She lived frugally, her husband got custody of her son and daughter, and her child support was was based on her earnings at the time, not what she made now. She didn't mind, it was her form of penance.

She got them every other weekend. It was tense at first, but a mothers' love and her professional training eventually got them to come around. They actually enjoyed their time with her, and her husband got alone time with his new wife.

She sat in the dark for two days crying when her son let it slip he was remarrying, finally giving up hope she could find a way back.

It was her desperation for money that had her in the position she was in now. A few associates of her old playmates asked her to study and profile a few people, to make it easier to persuade them to their way of thinking.

They hired private detectives and researchers, giving her tons of information. She would prepare a profile and submit it. She got a nice fee, and if her assessment was good, she got a bonus.

She didn't feel good about it, but legitimate companies did it all the time when choosing key personnel. No one wanted a skeleton to pop out of the closet down the road.

Her normal contact had given her the latest assignment, with a warning.

"This isn't for us. It's a favor to someone outside our group, and to be honest, my employers are scared shitless of him. Word of caution. Do not pry, do not try to find out the identity of your employer. You couldn't anyway, he's so layered in offshore shell companies it borders on paranoia. If he even thinks you're sniffing around, it would be really bad for you, and your family. My advice, do the job as fast as you can and forget about the whole thing. Here's your contact information and the names of the agencies being used. The man travels a lot and one firm could never keep up with him."

Opening the dossier, she recognized him instantly. After all he had been on television for two years, Some tabloids and legitimate magazines ranked him one of the sexiest men alive at the time.

She looked at a recent photo, time had been good to him. Reading the stats, she was surprised at his size, he didn't look that big on the small screen. Six foot six, between two hundred fifty and two hundred eighty pounds. She held an article on him when he was in the Olympics, the only man to medal in two fields during the same competition.

According to the report, he still practiced martial arts, but there was no mention of his level.

Most of the information gathered was public record, the investigators were having an extremely hard time getting anything personal currently.

The only ones to talk were disgruntled ex employees, and even they wouldn't go past generalities. Her employer got impatient and sent a message.

"It's time to stop trying to dig with a shovel and get a backhoe. You move enough dirt, you always find something."

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It was a warm, late spring day in Atlanta. Mike Hogue was walking with his best[probably only true]friend. They were laughing, remembering their trip abroad late last year.

The friend, Martin Coombs, was considered to be an extremely dangerous man. One or the top criminals in Atlanta, he ran his empire with an iron fist. People disappeared on his whim, and others were never the same after an encounter. Over the years, he had worked out a truce with his competitors, even partnering up for an occasional venture. There was no checking up on each other when totaling profits.

There was a saying in the underworld of Atlanta.

"Nobody ever cheats MC[his street name] more than once, because he kills them the first time."

For all his reputation, he was a skilled negotiator, and for the most part there was very little violence against each other among the criminal element of Atlanta.

Still, he lived with a target on his back, and he was very particular about security. He had two obvious bodyguards trailing behind him at all times, two 'front men' who made sure the way he traveled was safe, and two 'trailers' watching his back. All were in instant communication.

His security chief sent him a text.

"Picked up a tail. Split off from your friend so we can assess the situation without a witness."

Martin looked over at Mike.

"Brother, when we get to the corner, you turn left and meet me at the house. I got something I got to take care of."

Mike had been friends with him long enough to know this 'thing' he had to take care of was something he didn't need to know, so at the corner they shook, hugged, and went in opposite directions. A car pulled up to him four blocks later. He recognized Martin's driver.

"Mr. Hogue, I need you to get in the car now please."

He obeyed instantly.

The driver was on the phone. He handed it to Mike.

"Boy, have you pissed anyone off lately, sleeping with a married woman, anything like that?"

He could hear Martin grin in the phone.

"No, no one I can think of, and as far as women, you know I'm pure as the driven snow."

Martin laughed.

"Well somebody is interested in you. The tail my guys picked up was following you, not me. When we split he stayed right with you. One of my trailers picked up on it. We need to talk."

They did, that night, but he still couldn't think of any reason someone was following him.

The next day, Martin had his people follow the man back to his apartment.

When he left to follow Mike the next morning, Martin had three guys in his apartment, going over it thoroughly. Martin listened to the report.

"He's a private detective, Joe Gross of Henderson and Associates, the best private investigations firm in Atlanta and most of Georgia. What do you want to do about it?"

Mike grinned, and the men got uneasy.

"Why, I think I'll invite him to lunch tomorrow."

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The next day at noon Mike was sitting at a small cafe, at one of the outside tables. Two men hustled up with a very worried Mr. Gross.

Mike stood up and offered him a seat.

"Please Joe, sit. We need to have a conversation. I need to know why you find me so interesting."

The man denied everything until Mike threw a few photos down. His ex wife, his children, even his parents.

"I'll make you a deal, Joe. I'll stop taking an interest in your family if you tell your bosses to forget about me. Now, lunch?"

He made the man sit through lunch, acting as if they were old friends before he let him go.

"Remember, Joe, live and let live and we'll all get along fine."

Joe immediately reported back to the office, telling him he had been 'made' and they needed to assign someone else. He was never so glad to get home, until he closed his door. There, held to the back of the door by a hunting knife, was a picture of his five year old.

Mike, not trusting, called in some West Coast friends. The next operative was much better but was caught in no time. While he was concentrating on Mike two men slipped up, threw a hood over his eyes, knocked him unconscious, and threw him into a van.

He woke up in a chair with the hood still over his head.

"Good, I see you're awake. Listen."

He heard things being smashed with a hammer.

"That was your camera, your phone, and the rest of your gear.Now, here's a message I want you to take to your employers."

He felt his hand being pulled flat onto a table. He actually heard the blow before he felt the pain. His finger was completely smashed. It was stiff for the rest of his life, making it hard to take pictures.

"Listen carefully. Tell your bosses next time they will be having this conversation instead of an employee."

They drove him to a different part of town, dumping him out.

"You can't untie the hood, It's too tight. There is a penknife in your pocket, you can cut the cords when we leave. I wouldn't get in any hurry to do it, we'll be gone before you can, but just in case, it would be real bad for you to see us. Give your boss the message."

They shoved him out in an alley. By the time the hood was off they were indeed long gone.

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Not content to deal with underlings, Mike was at the office of Henderson and Associates at ten the next morning, identifying him to the receptionist and asking for just a minute of Mr. Hendersons' time.

"No" he said, smiling, "I don't have an appointment, but do me a favor, tell him Mike Hogue is here. If he doesn't want to talk to me I'll leave."

She called his office. There was a string of yes sirs, right away, sir, and he found himself in the the conference room of Mr. Henderson, with four other huge men. He smiled.

"I'm glad you think I'm so dangerous, but you have nothing to fear. I understand you have an interest in me, so I thought I'd stop by. Clear the air, see if it was something specific you wanted."

Mr. Henderson blustered a bit. Mike just sat there, bored. He finally slammed his hand down on the conference table, making all five men jump.

"Enough! Bottom line, Mr. Henderson. The next man I catch better be with someone else. If he isn't your world will be turned upside down. I have lots of friends and associates, some from the two years I spent with the IRS. How much scrutiny could your finances bear, and that of your employees? Not everyone would get audited, just the ones who had something to hide. Have a pleasant morning."

He walked out whistling, smiling at the receptionist. The sheer animal magnetism made her tingle.

Mr. Henderson looked at one of the men in the room.

"Well, he's made us. And frankly, I can't risk having my firm or employees examined too closely. But you're paying me enough, so the call is yours."

The man stepped out of the office and made a phone call. Two minutes later he was back.

"My employer agrees, it's time to discontinue your services. He knows the man well, and the violence will only escalate if you keep pursuing him. Send us an invoice, and if you could, recommend someone, someone a little less...constrained."

Mr. Henderson put him in touch with a small firm, ex military, that were known for getting results at all costs. He called the owner and warned him. He laughed.

"I don't care who he's associated with. I'll get your man the results he expects."

Three days later two of his best men were in the hospital, one with two broken arms and a leg. the other pretty much had every rib and a jaw broken. Tapes from the emergency room showed a van drive up and a slender woman get out and walk away. The men were found inside.

While the owner was answering questions about the illegal surveillance gear and automatic weapons found in the van his company owned, his office caught fire and burned to the ground.

His men were smart enough to say nothing and deny all knowledge of the weapons and gear. The one who could talk said they were mugged, even though nothing was taken. Mike Hogue returned to his home in San Francisco three days later.

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Mike frowned as he sat on the plane. Someone, someone with money, wanted to know all about him. In his high profile line of work, there had been times when something like this occurred. Normally he didn't care, but something about this had his senses tingling. It was more than a normal background check, he was positive there was much more to this.

He knew if they were willing to invest in having him watched in Atlanta, there was probably already a team in place at home. He mulled it over before drifting off for a nap.

Two days after his return, he was having lunch with his assistant, an attractive, middle aged blonde by the name of Montrose. No one noticed when he handed a note to his favorite waiter, Hermando, along with the tip. Hermando gave no indication, slipping it into his pocket with the tip.

He read it when he got home, and made some phone calls. Mr. Hogue had been very good to him. His cousin Carlos asked Mr. Hogue to help him find a job, and the next day he was working at the restaurant. One of the best in the city, Hermando was making more money than he thought would ever be possible. Then the man secured a scholarship for his daughter, with a guarantee she had a job waiting for her when she graduated, and made sure she had well paying summer jobs in his office.

Carlos came to see Mike the next day, presumably to ask about replacing two cars in their company pool. While he talked he handed him a note.

Still talking, he read the note, looked up, smiled, and nodded yes.

He had his technowizards scan his laptop and the office system. After they were safely clean he had a carpet service come in and while a few actually shampooed the rugs the remainder 'swept his office for any bugs that could be found.

None were found in the office, but there were three in the company cars he favored, as well as his personal car, complete with GPS. He had them left in place.

Then he reached out to his old IRS friends, and hired his own investigators. They led him back to the office of Dr. Parker.

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Dr. Parker sat at her desk after normal hours, going over the information she had garnered about Mike Hogue.

She researched his past, and interviewed nuns from his orphanage, his last set of foster parents, and college friends, and coaches.

The nuns had good things to say about him. He was respectful, polite, kind to everyone. One nun commented on his size back then.

"He was five foot five and didn't weigh more than one twenty five. He was just adorable. Then the incident happened, and he was sent to juvenile hall for a year and a half. When he came back, he was six two and still growing. We were so lucky when we found a set of foster parents for him."

When asked what incident she was alluding too, she said the record was sealed and it was between him and God now.

She was appalled when, after a pretty big expenditure, she received the full report.

Orphanages have their own pecking order, much similar to a prison. The bigger, tougher, and smarter you were, the more likely you were at the top of the food chain. In his case, it was a boy named Oscar Small, called "Biggie" because of his size.

The orphanage was coed, and the nuns did a pretty good job keeping the older girls and boys apart. Couple that with raging hormones, and homosexual attacks were fairly common.

Biggie had taken a fancy to Mike, with his slender build and blonde hair. He informed him that the next night he was expected to take his place as his main bitch. Mike, knowing he didn't stand a chance physically with his little gang, agreed.

She managed to find a man who was there, and after enough money changed hands she got the full story.

"He was such a quiet little guy, you know? We figured he would submit easily, and weren't surprised when he showed up for what Biggie called his 'honeymoon night'. He was shoved to his knees, and Biggie had him unzip him and pull his cock out. I was kind of surprised when he did, stroking him until he was hard."

"Biggie had his hand on his head."

"Suck it, bitch!" he sneered "If you do a good job I might keep you for myself for a while."

"Mike opened his mouth, and just as it got to his lips, he pulled the needle he had stolen out of the sewing room out of his mouth and stabbed it clean through his cock! Blood flew everywhere."

"Before anyone could move, Mike had the needle to his eye."

"You're my bitch now!" he screamed, "move and you lose an eye. Now tell your boys to back off. I'm not stupid enough to think I can beat you all, but if anybody tries anything with me again, I'll come back, and blind you. Got it, cunt?"

"Biggie was crying and nodding. We tried to keep it quiet, but after two days his cock got infected and we had to let someone know. They took Biggie away, and I never saw him again. I heard they had to amputate most of his cock, but I don't know that for sure."

"When it came out, Biggie went to juvie for attempted sexual assault, and Mike went too, for assault resulting in maiming. He would have got off scott free because it was self defense, but he used a weapon, so he had to go down. Biggie swore he'd get his revenge, but they sent them to separate facilities. Mike came back for a couple of months later and he was freakin' huge! I didn't recognize him. It changed him, and he soon was the kingpin. He stopped all the assaults, made everybody behave. Anybody objected, they got the shit kicked out of them. I ain't seen him in years, and all of a sudden he's in the Olympics and a TV star, makin' big bucks. I'm glad to see somebody made good."

Dr. Parker gave him a generous check and thanked him, and warned him not to repeat what was discussed with anyone.

They tracked a man that was in juvenile detention with him, and learned that was where he met Martin Coombs.

"I was in his posse when Mike first came in. Young, white, pretty, he was going to be easy pickins'. Then the story of what got him in there circulated. Martin was already big, and had lived on the streets for two years by himself before getting caught boosting a car."

We got him off to himself, surrounded him. He just smiled. It surprised us, we was used to begging and crying.

Martin noticed it.

"Whassa matter, bitch? Ain't you scared?"

Mike looked him dead in the eye.

"To death. But, anybody touching me is gonna find the price pretty high. Ya'll know what I did to get in here. I still don't have a forgiving nature. You can do it, but you'll have to sleep with one eye open the rest of the time you're here. I don't get to you in here, I'll look you up when I get out. Better to have me for a friend than an enemy."

"MC was surprised and interested. They talked. Pretty soon, things got more organized. MC was still kingpin, but Mad Mike was the power behind the throne. Once, MC didn't take Mike's advice and got caught doing something stupid. Mike only had two more months, and they were going to charge MC as an adult. He was looking at five years."