Retribution

By Michael Medulan

As his former classmates begin dropping to the floor of the Ballroom, unconscious and unable to be revived, John Walker realizes that his 25th high school reunion weekend will be anything but a relaxing weekend. Dealing with Russian mobsters, chemical terrorism and off-shore accounts, John's exploits take him from Toronto back to the US where he delves into the sinister life of a former classmate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Medulan
• Release date: Oct 31, 2010
• ISBN: 9781310970870

Book preview

Chapter One

Monday - Las Vegas, Nevada

Vincent Smith checked his watch. It was midnight and he needed to leave for the airport to take his private jet to Toronto. Before he could do that he had to make sure all of his assets were in place and ready for the weekend ahead. The first call he made was to Eddie, his right-hand man.

Hello Boss, said a sleepy Eddie. What’s up?

I want to make sure that all of the arrangements are set.

Yes Boss. I hired a local Russian crew and they told me that they will have a van ready for us to pick up. They assured me that it was untraceable and that it would be provided by a friend of the family, a local car dealer. I rented a limo for you and the local crew is providing a driver. He has been briefed and will not have any issues or questions about anything you need to do. He will be waiting for you when you land, just like any other livery driver. Lastly, I will swing by the airport myself to pick up Susan and make sure she understands what her role is this weekend.

Good work Eddie. Make sure that if Susan is already traveling with John, you only follow them. Do not split them up if Susan has been lucky enough to snare him on the plane. You can always catch up with her later at the hotel, if you have to.

Yes Boss, I understand.

What about John?

Assuming he doesn’t leave with Susan, the local team will tail him and report back on his activities. Do you have any special instructions for them?

Just tell them to make sure they don’t follow him too closely. Remind them that he is a Federal Agent and will sense them if they are too obvious. Make sure they understand that they, like you, are the brawn of the operation and I am the brains. Under no circumstances should they try and improvise.

Yes Boss. I will call them first thing in the morning and remind them.

Lastly, remember that we need some recent pictures of the targets, preferably all together.

No problem Boss.

Thanks Eddie, I can always count on you.

Vincent hung up with Eddie and made a call to Lance.

Hello sir, what can I do for you?

I just wanted to make sure you were in Dallas and were ready to proceed.

Yes sir, I am still here and I will take care of the last thing on my list in the morning.

Make sure you fly up to Toronto as soon as you can to start working on the technical aspects of the operation. We have a very tight timeline and you are essential to the success of my plan.

Vincent finally called Dr. Smyth and told him that he would be there early tomorrow morning. He reminded him that he needed their meeting to be discrete in order to exchange briefcases.

After hanging up with Dr. Smyth, Vincent smiled because everything was in place. He was looking forward to his 25th High School Reunion in Toronto this weekend. He was really looking forward to getting his retribution for all the pain and humiliation he had endured because of his classmates. Vincent flashed back to the prom in 1984. He gritted his teeth and then thought to himself that this would be a Reunion nobody would ever forget or perhaps one that nobody would remember….depending on your point of view.

Chapter 2

Dallas, Texas

John Walker stepped into the airplane carefully. At 6 foot 2 and 250 pounds he had learned, more than once, that it was easy to hit your head on the top of the entry door. That was especially true when travelling in these flying cigar tubes. He never understood what was so super about these Super 80’s.

As he passed the cockpit, he stepped in and flashed the pilot his badge, something he had done many times before. The pilot asked if he was wearing a gun but John told him that he was not packing; for once this was a pleasure flight.

As John turned back towards the seats, the flight attendant flashed him a smile. John was not good looking per se but he wasn’t ugly. At 43, his once muscular body had become a little flabby but he still took care of himself and given his size most people did not want to find out how in-shape he might be. John wiped the sweat from his brow. Although it was before 6:00am in Dallas, it was already 90 degrees and probably heading towards 110 this afternoon. As a transplanted Canadian, he had never gotten used to the intense heat of the south.

Any chance I can get a cup of coffee before we take off? John asked the flight attendant.

Where are you sitting? Diane, her badge read, replied.

John knew that what she really was asking was – are you in first class? – If not, the answer would be no. He replied, I am in 4A and I take it black. John didn’t see any reason to extend the conversation more than it needed to be.

Sure, said the flight attendant. I will bring it right over, sir.

John settled into his window seat and started his pre-flight routine. He put on his Bose headphones so people would understand that he was not in a talkative mood; then he started to read his business magazines. John already had broken one of his flight rules; never check any bags, but only because he was bringing his golf clubs with him. He was looking forward to this weekend, his 25th High School Reunion and Golf Tournament. It had been a long year and he had not had any down time for as long as he could remember.

It had been many years since he had been back to Toronto. If he had wanted to see someone from Canada, including his parents, he usually sent tickets for them to come to him. He liked to be in control but more importantly he left Canada in search of the American Dream and saw no real reason to go back. Yes, the American Dream did still sound funny to him but somehow he had always thought that success would only be found in the US. He knew those commercials with Carleton Sheets that promised riches for little or no work were crazy but something had always been pulling him south of the Canadian-US border.

John looked up from his magazine and saw another man who was even bigger than he was. He found himself mumbling Please don’t sit next to me. The man stopped at his row, checked his ticket and then proceeded into coach. Good luck back there, John said under his breath as he pushed the recline button on his seat.

John looked up as she stepped into the aisle. She was tall, blond and beautiful. She was dressed to kill. She came over to John’s row and slipped into her seat. This woman oozed sexuality and her perfume was intoxicating.

John reminded himself that rule #1 was never talk to someone on the airplane but he couldn’t help himself from stealing a look. She was wearing a white silk blouse that covered her perfectly formed breasts. He looked down to see her short skirt that was just above the knee. Then he saw the shiny black, 3 inch heels that she quickly removed and switched with a pair of sneakers. John worried for a brief second that he might get caught stealing the glance but luckily she was busy getting herself ready for the flight. He went back to reading his magazines and ignoring everything around him.

Susan smiled to herself. She knew she was hot and she had felt John’s eyes checking out her body. He was not the first and wouldn’t be the last man to give her the one-over. She had dressed to impress him, even though they had never met. She would let him play his game and wait for the flight to take-off. The flight attendant would then call each of them by name when taking breakfast orders. Until then she would read her magazines and get his attention by subtly flirting with him. She looked over at him and smiled. John quickly looked away again so she began talking to the person across the aisle from her.

Who are you sitting next to? asked the stranger.

What do you mean? Susan asked.

He flashed some kind of badge at the pilot. My guess, given his size, is that he is an Air Marshall.

The flight attendant showed up with John’s coffee. Upon overhearing Susan’s conversation she said, He is not an Air Marshall, I would know if he was. My guess is that he works for the US Government.

Like FBI or CIA? the man inquired.

Probably, said the flight attendant. She turned away to ask other First Class passengers if they wanted anything before take-off.

Susan became a little agitated. Vincent didn’t say anything about the FBI or CIA being involved. He had just mentioned that he was pulling a small prank on an old high school chum. She had assumed that she was to get friendly with John and then cause a scene in public to embarrass him. She wasn’t sure if she could go through with his plan if a government agent was involved. But then she quickly remembered that if she didn’t, Vincent would give her father the photos and she would become the outcast of the family. She started to plan her next move.

After take-off, the flight attendant came over to their seats. Mr. Walker would you care for breakfast this morning?

No thanks, said John, taking off his headphones so as not to appear rude. But I’ll have some more coffee please? No food though, thanks.

The flight attendant turned to Susan and asked, What about you Ms. Jordan?

I would just like some sparkling water Susan replied.

John and Susan exchanged quick pleasantries but he soon put his headphones back on. Susan waited for a long while but John did not initiate any more conversation. Realizing the flight was almost over; she moved to plan B.

She got up from her seat and slowly walked toward the bathroom. She felt his eyes checking her out from behind as she walked away. Most men checked her out, some subtly like John, some not so subtly, like the business-man in 3A, whose eyes almost popped out of his head. Sometimes she wondered if men could get whiplash from turning that fast, or perhaps, from turning quickly back to their wives, as if to say I wasn’t looking. Every woman knew that men looked but their reactions to their partners were based on whether they were comfortable with their own relationships.

While in the bathroom Susan checked her makeup in the mirror. She was good looking and normally that would have been enough to crack the ice but according to Vincent, he had just lost his wife, so he might be a hard sell. Vincent had also mentioned that he thought that John was heading back to Toronto to rekindle a relationship with his first girlfriend, Lisa, something or other. Susan had no idea how Vincent could know this but hadn’t dared to ask the question; Vincent had a quick temper and she had been hit by him more than once for asking the wrong question.

She sensed that John, like many middle-aged men, might just be looking for his past glory, whatever that might have been. Perhaps that would explain why he was heading back to that first girlfriend. She always guessed that most boys judge all future women against their first love, even if they had never consummated the relationship. That first encounter with a girl, the first real embrace, the first kiss, all seemed to trigger something that future girls or women would be forever measured against.

Susan was no expert in the area, her personal live had been a disaster. A causal affair with her boss had cost her everything. She was working her way up in the legal department of her company but then she spent the night with her boss after they were alone on the road. He had told her that he was unhappy at home and that he could do things for her career. Unfortunately she bought that line and ended up becoming his plaything.

He treated her well but once Vincent had caught them on video, on a secret Las Vegas getaway, everything changed. The video showed them drinking together, stealing a kiss or two and then the two of them going back to his room. It then showed her leaving his room and him holding up her bra and panties as if they were a prize. Vincent blackmailed both of them. For Susan, he threatened to expose her to her father, a Superior Court Judge back home in Wyoming; for him it was simply a matter of telling his wife. Exposure would destroy not only her but her father as well. For the first time in her life, she had kept a secret from Daddy. Mostly because she did not want the special bond that she believed existed with her father, to be destroyed. Also at stake was a significant inheritance. She always worried that her father would rather give his money away than give it to her or her sister. It was not that she wanted a free pass in life but rather that she felt she earned it, first growing up with the strict disciplinarian and then secondly following in his footsteps into the law.

Everything with her father was supposed to yield some kind of lesson. Growing up, he stressed the ability to be self-reliant, to count on nobody but yourself to make things happen. Somehow he had forgotten that he needed Mom but after she died he just became fixated on the law and ensuring that people took responsibility for their actions. Even in college, she found herself having to work to pay for incidentals. Sure she was a stronger person for it but she was always afraid of losing the only love, even if it was tough love, she knew.

Vincent promised her that this would be the last favor he would ask of her. He had said that before but this time she believed him. Vincent called about once a month to let her know that he owned her, even after she had left her old company and had moved to Dallas. She had tried to get away from him but Eddie, Vincent’s thug of a right-hand man, always seemed to track her down. He would just show up out of nowhere, to remind Susan of her obligations to Vincent.

Using her personal assets didn’t bother her. It was just that sometimes she felt like she was trapping a person into doing something that they normally wouldn’t do. A middle-age man having a chance encounter with a beautiful woman and the next thing he knew he was getting a divorce or being blackmailed by someone like Vincent. Sometimes she felt that Vincent truly enjoyed ruining people’s lives even after he had extracted financial gains. She had almost escaped his clutches once but then she received a FedEx with the pictures and a threat that they would be posted on the internet. Somehow she hoped that she could escape Vincent’s clutches even though she knew of nobody else who had gotten away so easily; as if sleeping with people she didn’t even know was easy.

She had always loved flirting, like it was a game. On planes it seemed so safe because she could control the action; if things didn’t go well it was over as soon as she got off the plane. Susan unbuttoned another button on her blouse, revealing her lacy black bra. This one never fails, she thought to herself. She checked herself one more time in the mirror and then made a tiny tear in her nylons around her thigh. As she headed back to her seat she once again felt the stares of the men and the women.

Flight Attendants, prepare for landing said the pilot. John looked out his First Class window and saw the city ahead and wondered again why he was coming back here. He had struggled to get out of here, leaving at 18 to go to college. The psychologists he had seen since his wife’s death told him that he was running from poverty or from some deep-seeded fear of failure. John wasn’t able to comprehend all of the psycho-babble; all John knew was that from the time he was a young boy, after seeing his parents struggle just to put food on the table and a roof over their heads but too tired to do anything but work, he had promised himself he was going to get out of this town, the place he had grown up in.

Once back in her seat Susan took off her tennis shoes and put back on her high heels. She knew John would be watching. She slowly stroked her legs upwards revealing the tear in her stocking. At this exact moment her chest would be in full sight, and the man, unless he was blind, would see her lacy bra, the one she always used for these special occasions. She groaned slightly as if fatigued, to make sure John noticed. John felt sorry for her, he would hate to wear pantyhose - of course he also hated ties – the man’s noose, there to remind you that it was work not pleasure.

Susan hardly sensed a glance from John, but then just as she was about to give up she saw him, out of the corner of her eye, take in a quick view of her breasts; in that moment he did something she did not expect, he blushed; just a little, like a school boy noticing for the first time that his teacher was also a good looking woman.

Are you traveling for business or pleasure? Susan asked, hoping to strike up a last minute conversation.

John felt that she had been trying to flirt with him off and on during the entire flight. The last time he had looked over he could see that her blouse was slightly open and he saw her perfectly formed breasts move with each breath she took. The sight of the black lace bra had made him blush just a little. She re-crossed her legs and her skirt accidently rode up past her thighs exposing a long set of sculpted legs. She obviously worked out and for the first time in a long time John wanted another woman.

Her voice broke his trance. Business or Pleasure? she asked another time.

Some of each I hope he said.

John stared at her hazel eyes and her small mouth. She was definitely a beautiful woman but John also had noticed that she was very confident in herself. She looked like the all American girl; perky enough to have been a cheerleader but now she exuded confidence, and confidence always, at least to John, lead to power. She might be an executive or perhaps a lawyer or physician he thought. Not the kind of woman that usually flirted with him. Her flirting hadn’t been over the top, it was more like it was part of an overall plan. He knew the type. They made you feel confident by flirting with you and then you couldn’t say no to anything they asked for.

John, at 43, was not too old to feel threatened by a younger and attractive woman. He also knew he was not a prize catch any more. Once a sports star, at least in his neighborhood, he was now just another ex-almost-pro-athlete that wanted to relive his glory days, not for vanity but to escape the dull reality of what his life had become.

Chapter 3

What do you do? Susan asked coyly. Everyone seems to think you are a cop or an FBI agent since they saw you flashed a badge at the pilot.

Nothing as exciting as that, I just work for the government; since 9/11, all government employees have to acknowledge themselves to the Captain. I am just going to Toronto to attend my 25th High School Reunion. John paused and then continued with, I am looking forward to catching up with some old friends.

An old flame? she asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer to that question.

No, nothing like that he replied.

Besides, he thought to himself, his true love never went to his school, and even though technically they were never lovers, he had imagined them making love many times. All of the women he had made love to, with the exception of his wife, were nothing more than conquests. He really did love his wife but she was gone now. Old feelings for his first love were awakened when he found her on Facebook. He started thinking about the forks in the road that had represented his choices in life. What if he had stayed in Toronto and gotten back together with his first love? He hated these thoughts. Even when he reflected on his baseball career or the lack of it, since he really only had a cup of coffee in the professional ranks, something kept telling him Lisa was something special. Also, the last few messages she had posted on his wall had convinced him to come back for the Reunion.

In his vain attempts to date after the death of his wife, women had said he was closed to a real relationship because of what they deemed some unrequited love from his past. He didn’t know about that but he did know that Lisa, at least the memory of her, from 25 years ago, reminded him of what was right in the world, before sex, money and getting-ahead became so important. A time, when a good date was simply holding hands on a walk back from the baseball diamond, hoping for a peck on the cheek or a brief kiss that would last for hours in his head but only took seconds.

American Airlines would like to welcome you to Toronto said the flight attendant upon landing.

How could an American ever welcome someone to another country? he said to the woman.

She laughed and then said don’t tell me you are a Canadian with an inferiority complex?

Actually I am a dual citizen, but I always wonder why Americans think they own the planet and everyone is just leasing it from them, replied John.

So even though you left Canada for America, she said with a laugh, Americans are the bad guys? If everything is so great in Canada why did you leave? Why do so many of you want to come to the US?

John couldn’t answer her questions simply, so he gave up trying. Why had he started talking to her in the first place? He had broken another one of his golden rules; nothing good comes from talking with someone on the airplane, especially women like….he didn’t even know her first name. Women like her flirt on the airplane because they are bored and they think they are safe. As soon as you get off the airplane they act like they don’t know you and if you try to rekindle what you thought you had going on the plane, she gives you that look, the one in which they let you know you are nothing but a creep. John knew the best thing to do at this point was to just get off this plane and get on with his weekend plans.

John had spent many years in business and had made a great deal of money but now he worked for the Government. He was not a cop but part of a joint task force between the U.S. Department of the Treasury and the FBI. After 9/11, John felt he had to do something that helped protect his family and his adopted country. So John was willing to listen to the Government official who offered him an opportunity to run the cyber unit. The government had been looking for someone with his financial acumen. His job now was to track down companies and/or individuals who appeared to be living beyond their means and then determine if they were hiding money from the IRS. Only the biggest of potential cases filtered up to him and his task force.

Although the word agent seemed to make some people think of James Bond and other spies, he spent most of his time in front of the computer looking at international bank transactions. He worked twelve hours a day, sometimes out of necessity but mostly to avoid heading home to his big empty space. In most cases, his team gathered the clues, deciphered their meaning and developed the case against the criminal; he then handed the case off to the IRS, the FBI or Homeland Security, depending on the individual’s potential crime. They would then deal with the tax evader, mob boss, smuggler or potential terrorist threat.

Over the past year however, John had made friends with a FBI agent, Brian Watson, who had let him tag along in the field, so he would to better understand what happened after he handed off the leads. John had requested this expanded role so that he could begin to understand the criminal mind. He needed to be able to think like a criminal in order to find them. In most cases, that meant turning off his analytical and logical mind for a while. He began to look for illogical leads or for methods that would allow a criminal to gain an angle in order to manipulate or blackmail people. John was a quick study and instead of taking a vacation this past year he enrolled in an FBI two-week training course where he had learned about forensics, evidence-gathering and intelligence-gathering. He owed a lot to Brian for exposing him to this other side of crime-fighting and John had paid him back by explaining the financial side of the equation and explaining how to follow the flow of money. It was a good business relationship that had blossomed into a friendship. Participating in the field work with Brian allowed John to travel more, something he had not done since his days as a financial consultant. He enjoyed the travel because it allowed him to escape his lonely home life for a while. His house was too big for him now but with the difficult real estate market, he had decided to hang on to the house that they had bought the house in Southlake, Texas many years ago. His children had gone away to college and after his wife passed away a year ago, he was left to wander around the big empty space. He knew it was probably time to move on but he didn’t know where he would go.

He was not here for business though and he reminded himself that he was just here to meet up with friends and hopefully have a good time. If he got up enough guts, he thought he might even look Lisa up.

He had always told himself that he would never go back to Canada. He now felt himself questioning every major decision he had made in his life. Perhaps it was due to the loneliness or maybe the Reunion that had made him think about his glory days in High School. Sure he had been successful afterwards but he really didn’t have many friends and he wondered what would become of him if he didn’t change something in his life.

Suddenly, he felt a little claustrophobic and he wanted, no needed, to get off the airplane. Ms. Jordan was talking again but he wasn’t really listening anymore. They had landed but it seemed like they were taxiing to another city. Why did it always feel like the 3 hours in the air was short but the 10 minutes taxiing to the gate took forever?

John heard the ding indicating that the post-flight chaos of deplaning was about to commence. He stepped over the woman, took one last glance at her and then headed for the door. He didn’t care if people were getting mad as he pushed past them. One guy, trying to act tough for his girl, told him to go back to his seat. John turned quickly and gave him a glance. John’s piercing stare made the guy decide that getting his ass kicked by John would not impress his girlfriend much and backed down from the confrontation.

John had to get off of this plane right now and once everyone saw the determined look in his face they decided to let him go first. Even the flight attendant, who had attempted to slow him down, realized the futility of it. John pushed by her and almost ran the gate agent over getting out of the plane. He needed some air and space between him and everyone else.

Susan smiled as she watched him jostle his way to the front. She had done the same thing on more than one occasion. They would see each other soon enough, in bed if the situation warranted it. There was something different about this guy. He obviously was physically strong but he was also confident. He was a little overweight but did not seem too self-conscious about it. Finally, even though she had used every flirt in the book, he had not fully reciprocated.

Normally, as soon as men tried to take an innocent flirt and turn it into a come-on, she would zone out on them. What she found attractive in a man was self-control. Displays of public affection were okay in your teens but mature people needed to show some restraint. Once they got behind the bedroom doors, all rules ended but in public, professional women needed to be treated like any other professional. Besides, everyone knew that plane flirting was just something to pass the time away. It was the same method people used at bars. Only there, women are trying to get free drinks.

Susan realized that this was not going to be as easy as Vincent had made it sound. She needed to gain John’s trust. As she headed to passport control, she started formulating her plans.

Chapter 4

Toronto, Canada

Vincent’s private jet arrived just after John Walker’s flight. Renting a private jet was the best thing he had ever done. Having it available 24/7 would come in handy on Saturday since he was not sure of the exact timing of his departure but he knew that he would need to leave at a moment’s notice.

Like John, Vincent had left the cold of the North for the warmth of the South. While John had ended up in Dallas, Vincent selected Las Vegas. Vincent had always been a punk back in Toronto and eventually he turned that into a business venture in Las Vegas.

He had built his reputation on the playgrounds in The Beaches area of Toronto; bullying anyone and anything. Stories of kids being hurt or scared out of their wits by him were not uncommon. Everyone knew who Vincent was, although he went by the name Vinnie back then. He had always been the biggest kid in the class. Some surmised that he had probably been held back a couple of times.

Vincent had somehow linked