Forced To Act

By Thomas Anderson

Stan was happy with his life, at least he was until he started receiving anonymous notes.
Given a choice between coming clean about betraying his life-long friend or complying with devastating orders to kill people he knows and loves, Stan is so frightened for his own life and so chooses the latter.
Having lived a life of self-abuse and hedonism, his past indiscretions now clash forcing him to commit murder to protect himself or have the truth come out.
Stan’s line of work adds to his complicated life and he has to tread a fine line between doing his job and not getting caught.
It remains a juggling act to keep his very public work separate from his private life. How far he gets before he gets caught only time will tell, but somebody is soon on his tail.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Anderson
• Release date: Jul 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301192618

Thomas Anderson

Thomas Anderson is a specialist on German armoured fighting vehicles of World War II. He regularly contributes to popular modelling and historical magazines, including Military Modelcraft International (UK), Steel Art (Italy), Historia Militar (Spain) and Batailles & Blindes (France). He lives in Germany.

Book preview

Chapter One February 2012

It was Friday afternoon and Stan Goldman had just arrived home from work. His weekend had just started. It was 5:00 pm and Stan was looking forward to another weekend of sex, drugs, booze, more sex, more drugs and even more sex.

If necessary during the week, Stan could hold off the booze and drugs but when it came to sex, it was never far from his mind. Stan also didn’t care which gender, a preference for women, yes but not an absolute when it came down to being satisfied.

Stan’s apartment, though not overly large was situated in a fairly upmarket block in Brisbane. Purchased ten years ago, promotion at work plus a few extra outside activities that had proved lucrative meant that Stan had not only paid the mortgage off within the first nine years but had also filled the place with the best quality furnishings a man with money to spend could buy. Stan hadn’t been stupid. He wasn’t a millionaire but he could afford to buy many items that normally would be out of his reach had he only relied on his wages. Being very much a loner with few real friends meant that there was nobody to question how he could afford the items he bought in such a short space of time and pay off a fairly high mortgage so quickly.

Stepping out of the shower, there was a knock at the door. Slipping on his bathrobe and opening the door, a diminutive woman of about 20 years of age stared up at him, at 5 feet 4 inches a good 6 inches shorter than Stan.

Can I help you Stan asked, looking down at her and knowing exactly who she was and why she was there.

Um, I’m Savannah, you asked for me? the girl replied, unsure from Stan’s response if this was the right address.

Oh yes, of course, come in, been doing this long? he asked.

Just over a week, you’re only my tenth client she lied. Stan did not hear Savannah (or just Carol Smith to her friends) mouth the word, today under her breath.

Isn’t that a bit soon to send you out in the field so to speak, don’t they normally keep you in-house for a while?

It’s because I’m so good Savannah replied in what she hoped was a sexy voice, whilst tossing her long blonde hair to one side. For some reason, within a minute of being here she already felt extremely uncomfortable. There was something not right about this bloke even for someone desperate enough to pay for sex.

She wanted this out of the way and had already started removing the few clothes she had on in the hope of getting the job done and getting out just that bit quicker.

Don’t we need to sort out the money side of things first Stan asked

Oh um yes, sorry, that $250 for the first 30 minutes Savannah replied.

No problem, you do take cards don’t you" said Stan with a smile.

Confused but hoping this would be an opportunity to leave without having to go through with screwing this weirdo, Savannah replied Um no, its cash only, they should have told you that when you rang

Are you sure? All the other whores have accepted it and it is accepted everywhere, here let me get it Stan retorted.

Hoping the guy didn’t have the cash and now able to leave, and leave with an air of indignation at being called a whore (even if that’s what she was), Savannah had stopped undressing.

Showing his card to Savannah, Stan said with a smile There we go, you do accept this one don’t you?

Savannah looked and knew she had no choice but to accept it. Her shoulders slumped as she said Ok what do you want and where do you want it?

Stan laughed There we go, blow job here, no condom, then anal there on the sofa and again bareback

Savannah just stared, now extremely nervous, Um I don’t do bareback and I never do anal

Well I’m sure my card will cover those things just this once, don’t you think? Stan Replied

Savannahs shoulders slumped even further if that was possible, she knew it would Ok blow job here and anal over the sofa

Stan just smiled. With a sigh Savannah removed her G-string, knelt down on the floor and opened Stan’s robe.

Sex session over and Stan’s urges satisfied for now, he had picked up Savannahs few clothes and dumped them outside his front door. With Savannah barely able to walk, such was Stan’s intensity and lack of tenderness during sex, he then proceeded to do the same to her, leaving her in a heap in the hallway, before saying Bye and thank you then closing the door in her face.

Happy for the moment and not caring if he passed anything on to his next conquest Stan got dressed, snorted two lines of coke and headed out the door, looking forward to reaching the Gold Coast and Vernon’s nightclub.

Exiting the lift of his apartment block and walking to his car, Stan noticed Savannah trying painfully to get into a car and being helped by someone, who Stan assumed to be, her minder.

Laughing, he gave them a wave.

The minder looked across and stared at Stan with cold hatred in his eyes knowing, as did Stan, that there was nothing he could do. Still laughing, Stan got into his car and drove off.

Seeing the Neon-lit city in his vision, Stan smiled. He expected an exciting weekend. He would be right

Getting to Vernon’s Nightclub, the smell of drink, perfume and vomit already thick in the air, a nod to security and he was in. Knowing he would be taken care of, Stan ordered two shorts and sat in a quiet corner of the dimly lit VIP room; his weekend was on a roll.

Chapter Two

Stan could barely open his eyes. He could make out the time on a clock by the side of him saying 9:45. He hoped it was a.m. the following day (Stan had been known to lose the odd day here and there, such were the states he got into).

Swinging his legs out he sat up on the side of the bed and mussed his hair, trying to remember whose bed he was in and what had happened.

Slowly his mind remembered Savannah and he smiled happily at the thought. Man for a whore she was good, tits could have been bigger but so tight, she nearly screamed the place down he thought to himself.

As his memory returned and he realized he was in a hotel room (He knew Vernon would cover the cost), he noticed a body at his side. Vernon had got him a man and a woman last night and all three had returned to the hotel room in a less than sober or fully lucid state. He knew he had a good time but was damned if he could remember how well it really went. He could still taste a mixture of beer, spirits and sex on his lips.

Picking up the phone, he ordered Full english please straight away (again, on Vernon’s bill). Once more looking at the prone figure beside him, Stan hesitated before again speaking to the woman on reception, Um on second thoughts can you make it for 30 minutes, Thank you. Stan replaced the phone and looked at the figure lying at his side.

Seems a shame to waste an opportunity he thought as he pulled the covers off the naked figure. Lying on their back and with Stan already erect, he climbed across and positioned himself for entry.

He was already halfway in went he realized how cold and clammy the person underneath him was.

Again being half way in and with no movement from the person underneath, Stan realized why. Jumping back about six feet (if it’s possible to jump that far considering the position Stan was lying in), Stan started shaking, sweat started running down his forehead and back and his mind went blank for a few seconds.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, who is this? Oh God, they’re fucking dead and they’re in my room, oh Jesus.

Stan managed to sit down in a chair close by. He didn’t even know whose name the room had been booked under, his or Vernon’s.

Trying to calm down and knowing the porter would arrive soon with his breakfast, Stan pushed the body on to the floor at the far side of the bed so it couldn’t be seen from the door.

This done, Stan went for a shower, he desperately needed one anyway and this always helped him to reason things out.

He had just managed to put on a bath robe when there was a knock at the door.

Heart rate up but hiding his nerves, Stan slowly opened the door. Before the porter could push the trolley in, Stan had grabbed it, pulled it through the entrance and slammed the door shut saying Thank You just as the door fully closed.

The porter, his hand still half out-stretched for his tip, realised there wouldn’t be one coming his way, put his hand back in his pocket, turned and walked away, mouthing the words tight fucking wanker under his breath.

Stan breathed easier. This was not the first dead body he had seen. Calmer now, he knew what to do. Picking up his phone, he sent a text to Vernon: Need your help, another December 2008.

Text sent, Stan transferred his breakfast from the trolley onto a table. About to sit down he thought again about the dead body. Already erect again, he started to walk over to it thinking it was a shame to waste the chance. He had only taken two or three steps when he had second thoughts better not, Vernon could turn up anytime. Stan turned back, sat down and started eating; trying his best to take his mind off what he really, really would prefer to be doing.

Vernon sat out in his backyard, drinking orange juice and watching his children play.

The sun streamed into his garden, its rays reflected off his pool. He sat under a shade, this in turn covered by two large palm trees that kept the worst of the sun’s heat off even in the height of the day.

His phoned buzzed displaying a message from Stan. Reading it and with a sigh, Vernon rang Big Mike on speed Dial.

A hard and low voice answered and Vernon spoke Stan needs a hand, another December 2008. Go and sort it will you

A grunt at the other end followed by, This is the third time in nearly as many years, the fucking idiots a liability.

Vernon replied he’s as close to a brother as I’ll ever have Mike and you know how I feel about family.

Realising there was no point in arguing, Big Mike ended the call, got up and went to do what was necessary.

Vernon put his phone down and went back to watching his kids and reliving memories of his younger days.

Vernon and Stan had lived next door to each other in the same street since being born within a few days of each other.

Their mothers being very close, as the boys grew up together they had often both slept in the same bedroom of one house or the other since they were about 7 years old.

Reaching adolescence and discovering girls, the boys had often played swapsies with said girlfriends once the honeymoon period had passed (this normally occurring by the time the boys had slept with a girl on the third or fourth occasion).

Never often seen apart, by the time the boys reached their late teens, both had started to develop separate personalities. Vernon’s relationships became more long term; Stan’s remaining fleeting but now also extending to quick liaisons with male as well as female partners.

At 14, Vernon’s parent’s had separated then divorced, both remaining friends but Vernon’s father deciding to re-locate to Perth to expand his business interests.

Not to be outdone, Stan’s parents had followed suit less than 9 months later, this divorce being far less amicable and leading to Stan’s father walking out, finding a place to live somewhere in Brisbane and never seeing Stan again.

At 20, Vernon had moved to Perth to learn the family business, somewhere he was to stay for the next 4 years, returning home for various weekends every few months.

At a loss without his friend, Stan went to university picking up new friends on the way.

In Vernon’s eyes, these friends were bad news for Stan, taking him down a route that Vernon believed would end in disaster.  Nevertheless Stan ignored advice, eventually getting a job and working for people Vernon wouldn’t be seen dead with. He cared enough about Stan to accept his falling in with the wrong crowd and they remained firm friends.

Returning home at 24, Vernon had proceeded to set up his own business. Over the years this had prospered and been extended to ensure Vernon lived well and would never want for money.

Since returning home he had also looked after Stan, helping him out whenever necessary. It was just a shame that Stan was more a serious liability than he was ever an asset. Still, you can’t choose family, or as good as thought Vernon with a sigh and went back to drinking his orange juice and watching his kids.

Chapter Three

Just as Stan was finishing his food, there was a knock at the door. Getting up, Stan answered it and was immediately confronted by an irate Big Mike who promptly grabbed Stan by the neck, picked him up and walked into the room, Stan now dangling in mid-air and struggling to breathe.

What the fuck have you done now you fucking idiot? Big Mike snarled, his face nose to nose with Stan’s. Stan would dearly loved to have told him he hadn’t done anything, as far as he could remember at least and had woken up with the body next to him. Unfortunately Stan could barely breathe at the present time let alone talk.

Realising this, Bike Mike released Stan, watched and waited as he fell to the floor and tried to get his windpipe working again.

When I woke up they were just lying there dead Mike, I swear Stan managed to croak

"You are still a fucking idiot and Vernon’s a bigger fucking idiot for keeping you around Big Mike replied.

Quieter now Stan said please Mike don’t call Vernon an idiot

Just get the fuck out of here Stan before I kill you myself and I warn you this is the last fucking time, you get me?

Stan nodded, managed to get dressed, get his stuff and get out, leaving Big Mike to clear up his mess.

Walking straight past reception (Vernon would cover the bill he thought) and out the door into a bright new day, Stan knew there