Full Cylinder: Invitation to a Killing

By Wesley Don Lawrence

Psychological Thriller - A fast paced, action novel blended with a precarious, unintentional love affair which takes place in a U.S. Midwestern city with a population with a population of approximately 90,000. The story portrays the exploits of one man, whose task is to help his former comrade in a hostile land far from home in a span of only five days. Working alone with the help of his friends daughter, who is an editor at the local newspaper, he must carry out this dangerous undertaking in the time frame allotted to him by his superiores. The task at hand, although a dangerous undertaking, was straight forward---seek retribution on his friends adversaries, but to get out alive would be a challenge. However, he was not prepared to fall in love with his best daughter. An unexpected relationship develops between him and the seductive young woman who would aid him throughout his mission, but this unintended, passionate love affair could jeopardize his entire mission and place both their lives in imminent danger. His goal is to seek justice, and bring down Nicklaus Vinchinzi and the people in his unscrupulous organization and others responsible for the orchestrated attack on his longtime friend and colleague. These were very dangerous times in the United States and failure was not an option. This story is about one brave man and woman who fought the lonely fight against mans oppressors, like the charlatans who hide behind cloistered walls, and the righteous do-gooders whose only ambition is to force their narrow, opinionated beliefs on others. It was a dangerous mission in a hostile land with no promise of the dawn. Working alone, he would attempt to take down the organization responsible for his friends misfortune and eliminate the man at the top whose sole function was to enforce the new regimes strict laws and to eliminate any dissidents who opposed the ruling autocracy.
In every era of history there have been Paladins, men and woman who were not content to simply ride the crest of the wave, instead they choose to swim against the tide. And yes, such heros still do exist, even in the 21st century.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 23, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463419325

Wesley Don Lawrence

Wesley Don Lawrence graduated from the Maine Maritime Academy. He has an Associate’s in Engineering Technology, a Bachelor of Science in Electronic Engineering from Grantham College of Engineering in California and it a 1956 graduate of the Famous Writers School in Westport Conn. After his time in the US Navy, he spent many years in the US Merchant Marine sailing around the word as Chief Engineer with various companies. He has written technical on various engineering and electronic subjects and has published three novels: He is a United States Navy veteran and author of three other novels: Eternity is Ours -1999, Invitation to a Killing- 2013 and Running Man -2014 and has done writing for other authors. Wesley currently resides in Maine.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

At the end of the second decade of the twenty-first century, man once again found himself standing at the crossroad confronted with a new impasse. However, there was a notable difference from the past predicaments that has plagued and tormented man down through the ages. However, this time his previous dilemmas were minuscule in comparison. Man has always struggled against depots, corrupt governments and religious fanatics, but now, America was ruled by a strict autocracy that had been in place for several years. In the beginning of the second decade of the 21st Century, the United States was waging two long wars without any prospect of a successful or noble ending. The economy was in shambles, unemployment was at all time high and the populous desperately cried out for change, any change would be better than the present governing body of millionaires with their free 200 dollar haircuts, where corruption, kick backs, huge welfare rolls, increasing taxes and a host of other problems were the order of the day.

And change did come… voted in by majority of the citizens by an overwhelming vote, the radical transformation was successful and the nation joyfully embraced the new order. One man, a great orator, grouped together—all the evangelical religions along with many other denominations, finance by philanthropic organizations and dozens of clandestine donors—into one body called ‘The New Church’. The United States, one of the worlds most Christian countries with more than 61% of the population are believers, was an excellent target and with the help of censorship, well-financed organizations and the continuous bombardment of the press—thus, the switch to one religion of all was accomplished with relatively easy.

Only one religion ‘Christianly’ dictated by the New Church was the order of the day with no exceptions permitted. The new autocracy did reign in spending: globe conflicts were ended, all foreign US bases were closed saving the country billions of tax payer dollars, drug dealers were removed from society disappearing without a trace, the list of reforms was a long one, and the country prospered under the new regime and the economy was restored.

However, not all the people were happy under the strict rules of the new regime and surreptitious plotting to overthrow the ruling autocracy was on the rise, but the dissident’s goal would be an extremely difficult task. There was only one clandestine group who possessed the necessary clout to dethrone the New Church, but its home base was located in an enemy country far from the United States.

The signpost—the distant stars and galaxies—where man’s hopes and dreams once reside was no more. The ending of the grand adventure began way back in 1970, the Saturn V rocket, the last of the great machines is now a memorial to what of might have been and the men who were trusted to this grand venture are now long retired or have passed on. Man lost his vision, the nerve, and the interest for future space exploration. As years past by, more government funding was drastically cut from America’s space adventure. The government cut the space budget and began funding for ‘The Great Society’, thus, the Welfare State was born.

The dismantling of space exploration continued: In the beginning of the fist decade of the 21st. Century, the space shuttle program was terminated along with manned space flight and all space exploration was put on hold. The Welfare State and more government control of people’s lives were instituted, everything from mandatary health care, to what food you were permitted to consume, what you may say or not say in public or private, and many other rules and regulations were put in place. When it was finished, the United States was close to being bankrupt and freedom was quickly becoming a thing of the past.

Thus, the catch-all-word ‘change’ reared its nebulous head once again.

Now let us postulate this: In the course of history the pendulum swings back and forth, between good and evil. All in takes is a gifted orator with the right backing and millions of dollars in his hope chest to gain power over his subjects and turn the tide of history: Billy Graham, Oral Roberts, Roosevelt, Reagan, Hitler and—the New Leader as portrayed in this novel—to name a few skilled speakers. The key here is one all important word ‘change’. Germany was in an economic crisis after losing World War I, the economy was in a shambles, the money was grossly devalued along with many other economic problems. Along came Hitler who advocated ‘change’. He did restore the economy, brought back the arts, music, theater and created jobs—the country prospered and people were happy. Then he instituted his own form of ‘change’ which ended with the loss of millions of lives and the total destruction of his regime with 90 million of his own people the scapegoats for one man’s folly. And we must remember, Hitler claimed to be under the special protection from God.

Also, during this turbulent time in German history, the German people were given a choice between the nebulous, present power structure, the Communism Party, or a common man who was a veteran of World War One and professed ‘change’. Whom would you choose?

Adolph Hitler, in 1935

‘This year will go down in history. For the first time a civilized nation has full gun registration. Our street will be safer, our police will be more efficient and the world will follow our lead into the future.’

Perhaps, if the German people were armed, they could have resisted and removed Hitler and his regime from power before his evil changes took place?

What do you think would happen if a gifted orator, who utilized all the right words—spiritual awaking, under gods’ leadership, hunger, sickness, illiteracy, the poor, America was founded as a Christian nation, the chosen one, doing God’s work, and the list goes on—and who proclaimed the proper vehicle for change was a return to a Christian Nation and live by the Christian Bible’s Commandments and Laws? Thus, the change from a democratic government to a combination of autocracy and theocracy was launched. Would the nation return to the dark ages where the religious laws were stickily enforced by any means necessary, would the country move ahead with science and adventure, or would it be left behind by the rest of the world? Albert Einstein wrote in one of his papers, ‘Conscious man to be sure, has at all times been keenly aware that life is an adventure, that life must be wrested from death’—ending his paper with… ‘and nothing at all will remain but a few pitiful pages in the history books briefly picturing to the youth of future generations the follies of its ancestors.’ We must maintain a constant vigil and be on guard for the sanctimonious prophets and despots who rule by deception and will not hesitate to use force when their agenda or empire is threaten. Let us hope this novel is only fiction.

Enjoy

Wesley Don Lawrence

CHAPTER 1

THE ASSAULT

He was on his hand and knees attempting to rise, when without warning, a huge boot smashed into his exposed chest. Spirally like a top, he landed face down on the cold, unyielding pavement. Breath stopping pain, shock, followed by a paralyzing numbness spread through his body… dazed, confused, he lay still on the hard pavement not daring to move. Sucking in his breath, he unconsciously held it for three or for seconds before expelling what remained in one expulsion of air. He tried focusing his muddled mind on something, anything to escape what was happening to him. Observing a small puddle of water a few inches from his face, he stared at it, concentrating on light reflecting off the surface of a pool of dirty water, but underneath was only darkness and silence. Suddenly, someone—he was unable to see who issued the command—his attackers immediately sprang into action to execute the order. Instantly rough hands lifted off the pavement and held him upright in a standing position. Although both eyes were almost swollen shut, he was able to see his tormentor, a giant of a man who glared down at him with eyes devoid of mercy or compassion. His desperate pleas for succor were ignored. A huge fist smashed into his exposed stomach, the pain was electrifying, he tried to breadth, but no breath would come and he collapsed. This was only the beginning of a terrifying ordeal not of his own making. And he knew the nightmare of this day was not over, for this was just a taste to what was to follow. What did his attackers want from him? Gasping for breath, he prepared for the worst. Pulling his aching body into a writhing ball of pain, he clutching frantically at his injured body wrapping his arms around it for protection, but this gesture only served to infuriate his attackers to the point of unbridled savagery. He could hear his attackers chattering in the background, but was unable to understand what they were saying. Why were these men hurting him? What had he done wrong to deserve this terrible beating? He would be admonished for his transgressions later after the chastisement was finished. But would he survive?

A moment later the beating resumed in earnest.

It was unusual warm fall day in the Midwestern city of Unity where 90,000 happy citizens resided… But not all the people were content, there were a few who dared to complain against the strict moral code now in-place in the land of the ‘free’. Not far the center of this thriving metropolis in a dimly lit alley with only a few street lights, a brutal assault was in progress. The vicious, brutal punishment was administered scrupulously; the punches were designed to inflict serious pain, but carefully orchestrated not to cause death or permanent injury. The scheme was to hurt and humiliate the victim as well to teach him or her a lesson in compliance and respect for the New Order. Cut and smash the face, kick the body, break a few fingers, strip off the clothes before informing the hapless victim of his or her transgression. After the beating, it would be a couple of hours before help would arrive to transport the injured person to the hospital. These attacks were always administered in a remote section of Unity to avoid onlookers or witnesses who might observe the gross spectacle of these frequent assaults. In these tempestuous times under the New Order, a walk across the street had become as dangerous as an overland journey across the West during the Indian Wars.

This was just one of the many isolated locations were such violent acts occurred over the years since the New Governing Body and the One Nation Under God regime assumed power with its total reign over its subjects. Laws were quickly enforced, especially Church Justice which was swift and finale. It was a new decade of total obedience ruled by a harsh system included capital punishment when applicable. The man in charge of routine law enforcement and the task of monitoring all activities in Unity was a former crime boss hired by the New Order to enforce its strict dogma, his name—Nicklaus Vinchinzi, a man who was feared and hated by his many enemies, yet admired by his loyal followers; nevertheless, he was revered by the Church Hierarchy for his many successful accomplishments, especially the routine, brutal attacks on enemies of the State and the New Church.

On this catastrophic day for one of Unity’s unlucky citizens—who was previously turned in by a one of his close friends for several infractions involving one of the many existing Church laws—was just finishing work on Monday at 5:30 P.M., when he was grabbed off the side walk in front of his workplace by two men, and roughly dumped unceremoniously into the back of an unmarked black van parked next to the curve directly in front of several onlookers who wisely looked the other way. The ordinary workday went on as usual without him. The van immediately left the curve with its human cargo heading south with its prey safely tucked in the back of the vehicle. The helpless victim was surrounded on each side by two ominous looking men who never spoke, only giving their prisoner an occasional threatening glance. There were two other men in the forward compartment who were engaged in a lengthy conversation, but he could not hear what they were saying. Their prisoner was in excellent health for his age, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, slender, about five-eight and well dressed in a neatly pressed business suit. He was in good spirits, his job was going well and tomorrow was his day off Yes, life had been good to him until now.

With a half-hearted effort he attempted to address his captors.

Who are you… what do you people want with me? The frightened man blurted out, then asked, Are you the police?

Several moments passed before he received an answer to his plea.

Do we look like the police? Hissed the man sitting on his right, his voice was sharp and cold.

No but… ?

Don’t try any thing stupid and you won’t get hurt, barked the other man next to him on his left.

Under orders from Mr. Vinchinzi, the man was being transported to South side of town now called the ‘Old Section’ where his punishment was to take place. This section of Unity was not monitored by cameras and generally devoid of people. Arriving at the previously chosen location, the two men in rear of the van roughly forced their victim out of the vehicle into to the empty the street. Next, followed closely by the other two accomplices, Nicklauss Vinchinzi’s cohorts roughly escorted their helpless prey down a dimly lit street and then around a corner into a blind alley, devoid of a houses and any curious onlookers. When they reached the end of the alley, someone struck in the back with a pulverizing punch. The overwhelming force of the blow drove him straight ahead several feet. Desperately, he tried to keep for falling, but failed, landing face down on the unyielding pavement. Again he attempted to regain his feet and flee from his attackers, but once again a huge foot caught him in the chest and this time he was unable to rise. Through muddle thoughts he attempted to contemplate the horrifying dilemma now in progress in this deserted alley a long way from home.

Who were these men… Why me? . . . What do they want? . . . Are they going to kill me? In a few moments he would have his answer and what was to follow was not going to be pleasant.

Rough hands lifted him off the pavement holding him fast in an upright position. The huge brute responsible for his misery slapped him hard across the face to gain his attention. Thrusting his face close to his terrified subject, his tormenter removed a crumpled letter from his right jacket pocket and began reading the contents to the helpless victim.

Today you are going to be punished for the shindig held at your house two weeks ago. You were reported by one of your guests to have at your house a large quantity of illegal liquor purchased by you from an unlicensed dealer. Mr. Vinchinzi’s records say this is not your first offence.

Stopping a moment he added, You are in violation of Statue LC375761-07.

The big man slapped him again. Now shit for brains, you are going to get what you deserve for being a bad boy. The attacker’s voce was harsh, full of impatience.

He attempted to protest, but no words would come. Fear clutched at his stomach, his body tensed and his countenance reflected abject terror as he gazed into face of impending disaster from which there would be no escape on this fateful day. He stared helplessly into the half-closed eyes peering down at him, eyes dulled of intelligence realizing he was powerless to prevent what these people were going to do to him next.

Helpless he waited, staring with vacant eyes into the heat congested face glaring down at him. Once again he tried to protest, but to no avail.

His fate was sealed.

Grabbing him by what was left of his tattered shirt, the giant lifted him off the pavement and after giving him a violent shake, he slammed an enormous fist into his battered face, driving him backwards several feet. Staggering like a man who had too much to drink, he regained his balance for a brief moment, only lose it again and tumble unceremoniously head first onto the pavement.

The nightmare of this day was just beginning.

It was a savage beating continuing for several, long punishing minutes. It was administered almost mechanically from many years of practice, without emotion or compassion, meticulously designed to extract the most damage in the shortest possible time. Savage, thunderous kicks, blows to face, stomach, buttocks, crotch—all delivered with methodical precision. The form on the ground was beginning to look less than human. The more he struggled to lessen the painful blows raining upon his injured body, the flurry of punches only intensified. Curling into a tight ball, he attempted to protect himself from the deadly attack, but once again failing to prevent on the onslaught.

The man administering the damage appeared to be in his early forties, a huge brute towering well over six-feet-seven, broad of shoulder and probably weighed more than two hundred and sixty-five pounds. The giant towering above his cringing victim was intimidating, his body rippling of pure muscle with a head shaped like a giant dome mounted atop the massive mound of human flesh. Sporting a three-day-old facial growth and standing fully erect, he seemed even taller than he was. The giant’s nickname was—Kong, a man who knew everything about inflicting pain, except sometimes his passion for punishment knew no bounds. His appetite for cruelty was well known in the unscrupulous circle of antagonists who worked Mr. Nicklaus Vinchinzi. Kong was a cocky, tough, fearless man and a born brawler. In combat, he asked no quarter and gave no quarter. Expelled from high school his junior year for fighting, he began a career of various crimes. Over the years he had grown from the untidy, overgrown high school bully into a lithe, giant of a man with a wealth of experience in combat. His countenance confirmed the appearance of mastery over any situation that might arise. His smile, although rare, was full of sardonic humor. Convicted of man slaughter, he spent five years in the State Prison. But now under Nicklauss Vinchinzi’s protection, Kong was free to pursue his inordinate carvings without fear of prosecution.

There were three other accomplices present. One was a tall, thin man who answered to the name Black and the only one packing a weapon. The 38 Glock which he seldom used was strapped to his right side housed in a quick-draw holster. The man with his back turned to the obscene spectacle was called Slasher. He was proficient with a knife, using it only when required by Kong to militate the victim. However, Slasher’s weapon of choice was more for protection than torture. The last culprit was called Pervert who sometimes performed obscene indignities on the victim when given permission to carry out such shameful acts. Usually his tasks were passive, consisting of tending to the needs of his companions, but he did have one prominent function other than performing menial chores; the important task of recording the gang’s illicit activities so they could get paid by Mr.Vinchinzi.

The beating continued.

Kong ground a foot into the man’s exposed groin then promptly kicked his helpless victim in the stomach, blinding agony ripped through the offended organ. The man tried to protest by pulling himself even tight into a tiny ball, pleading for his tormentor to stop, but his cries for succor fell on deaf ears. The man’s body twisted excruciatingly