Kincade: Chronicles of an International Assassin

By S. C. Alexander

They destroyed his home.
Killed his best friend, orphaned his goddaughter.
Now nothing will stop him from getting his revenge.
Not the Italian mob.
Not the Russian bratva.
Not even the CIA’s alpha hit team.
He will kill them all.
Kincade goes on a worldwide rampage, killing all that had a hand in the death of his best friend. He rights some wrongs he had done to people in his past but never loses focus on his objective, vengeance. At the same time, he encounters something new in his life. The life of an 18-year-old teenage girl. whose whole life has been turned up-side-down by the death of her father. Learning the truth of what her parents were spies, assassin’s like Kincade which is exactly what she wants to become. She hell-bent to be just like her Godfather Kincade, but he will not have any of it. He only wants to protect her from what he is and from what she wants to become.
trigger warning:
Graphic violence
torture

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. C. Alexander
• Release date: Feb 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463580745

S. C. Alexander

I am a writer and author in Central, Ky. I write in several genres fromaction and adventure to paranormal romance. I attended Eastern Kentucky University.

Book preview

Kincade

Chronicles of an international assassin

Copyright 2020

By S.C. Alexander

Chapter one

Snatch, grab and torture

The old man had been watching them for months, ever since he had received the call. The man he was stalking was taller and lankier than the average man. The target was always surrounded by a group of armed men, so here he sat in his car with a modified gun in his hand waiting for a chance to do his job. He had been given the green light to whatever he needed to do including terminating the man’s guards. He learned long ago that it was better to minimalize casualties, the higher the body count the more the authorities would come after you. Two guards came out first, they stopped by the door of the mom-and-pop shop to make sure there were no threats.

The target and his guards made the weekly rounds collecting protection money from the local shops, then they would take it to their boss. He parked across the street and checked the area, there were too many people. If he attacked the man, his bodyguards’ or civilians could get shot or killed in the crossfire. The old man would have to wait for a few more stops for his next chance. He had been watching him for months learning his every move. Hell, he could tell what time the target scratched his ass and which hand he used. Two more stops and still no chance at the target. The man thought to himself, Why are there so many people out tonight?

The group was coming up on the last stop of the night. This was it, the old man looked around checking the area, no one was around. One of the guards came out of the store. His keen eyes surveyed the surrounding area, nothing, no one was in sight. His head quickly jerked in the direction of a car door opening, his first reflex was to move his hand toward his gun just in case it was a hit. He detested guarding this guy, he was too high profile and he took stupid risks. The guard watched the car intently, he had a feeling all night that they were being followed. The car moved and jerked as if someone was struggling to get out.

A girl from a local community college rounded the corner to help whatever or whoever it was in the car. The guard stared intently his hand moving slowly toward his gun just in case. Slowly, an elderly gray-haired man rose up from the car with help from the college student. He smiled to himself and turned around. The boss was coming out. He turned back around to open the door for him when he ran into the old man from the car knocking him down. The guard turned and looked at the old man sprawled out on the concrete sidewalk.

I’m very sorry sir, let me help you up. The guard held out his hand to help man the up. The old man took the guards hand and rose up from the ground.

It’s no problem young man, I have been coming here to Dee’s pharmacy to pick up my pills for 30 years or more.

The guard looked at the old man again confused and saddened for his age; the man must have been mistaken. Sir, this is a deli, not a pharmacy, you must be lost.

The old man looked affronted, Young man I’ll have you know I know exactly where I am.

The tall lanky man exited the building and approached them both, Is there a problem here? He said this with a sneer on his face.

The guard looked at the old man then back to his boss, No, no problem here sir.

Ok then let’s go, we have to get this to the big boss. The tall lanky man looked down his nose at the man, Move it old man you are in the way.

The guard looked at the old man, Sir move away. He looked to his boss and back to the old man he whispered, You do not want to be here in case something goes wrong. Please leave.

The old man looked at the guard, and then turned around and started to shuffle away. Suddenly the old man stopped; You know what you’re right, this is not a good place for any of us. The old man turned around with his cane in his hand. The guard had a sudden realization of the situation he was in, where did the girl go, how could a little old man have gotten across the road so fast. This was a setup, a hit. The guard tried to react in time to the threat, but it was too late. The old man lifted his cane and fired off a series of shots that hit every man dropping them quickly, including his target. The old man walked over to his target, Don’t worry about it, Jimmy boy, they’re just tranquilizers you’ll be fine, for now.

Jimmy was tied to the chair with a sack over his head. He had never been treated like this. His muffled screams of profanity-filled the room, not that it would do him any good. This room was soundproof. This was the hit mans’ go-to torture room with an assortment of tools for extracting the type of information he needed or more importantly, the information his clients wanted.

The man had numerous devices in this room to extract information. In this room were a waterboarding device, low voltage electric chair, tools for removing skin, teeth, fingers, and toenails, and hammers for breaking and the fracturing of bones. Last, but not least, there was an actual medieval torture rack, like the ones used during the inquisition. Then there was the special room, this room had a three-dimensional holographic projector he would project images of the person’s loved ones in which he assumed to torture. Whoever said torture never got actual truthful information had never seen his work.

He took the sack off Jimmy’s head. His eyes blazed with rage, but behind that was pure fear. A fear not knowing what was happening, he was protected by the Gabriella crime syndicate. A small army was with him at all times, people knew him as Jimmy the accountant, Cousin of Don Antonello Bobo Gabriella boss of bosses. The man walked over to a table and picked up a pair of thick rubber gloves, these were great for tearing and ripping the skin off someone when you hit them.

The man looked at Jimmy, Understand, you will tell me what I want to know, or it will be very painful for you. You will remain here tied to this chair until I get what I want. I have had others here, some for weeks others for months at a time. I will put a feeding tube in you and give you a blood transfusion if I have to, but you will tell me what I want to know. He slowly pulled off the tape knowing it would hurt, it was his employers request that he make everything as painful as possible.

Jimmy looked up at him, rage burned in his eyes, You bastard that hurt like hell, I will have you killed for that, do you know who I am?

The man gave Jimmy a droll look and answered him. Yes, you are Jimmy Gabrielli. Your cousin is the boss of bosses and my employer. He has hired me to find out what happened to fifty million dollars of his money. Now, Jimmy, I know you are not smart enough to do this by yourself. You simply do not have the computer and the organizational skills to do this. My employer is more than willing to let you take the fall and have me put a bullet in you and be done with it. However, I found the money in a Cayman’s Islands account under your name. You don’t even know where that is, do you? I backtracked the IP address to a local internet café. You do not understand one thing I have said, do you?

Jimmy looked defiantly up at him, Go fuck yourself.

The man slugged Jimmy with a right hook that tore a one-inch gash in his check that bled profusely. Jimmy spit out a tooth and a good amount of blood. He looked up at his attacker, If that is the best you can do you better just shoot me now.

Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. What is it going to be, are you going to tell me what I want or are we going to see how much pain you can endure before you crack. Make no mistake you will crack, they all do.

Go fuck yourself you piece of shit, I ain’t no rat. When cousin Bobo finds out what you are doing, you will be looking up at me when we shove you into the river.

Did you not just hear me? I told you, he is my employer, he hired me to do this to you! The man enunciated each word to make sure he understood. How thick can you be, I mean really are you that dumb. I mean you let yourself be used by your partner. They led the money to you, but the funny thing is you do not have any of the money do you, Jimmy. I know because I checked your house and all the bank accounts associated with your family.

You have been to my house you Figlio di puttana (son of a bitch). I will kill you!

I also checked all of your finances and your wife’s and your boys and her families, but no money.

Bastardo, I will kill you. You stay away from my family.

Your wife did not seem to want that, she was very friendly to me, and your boss said if it comes to it I have permission to kill them to find out the truth.

If you so much as touch them I will. The man walked over to Jimmy and slugged him in the face breaking his nose. The crunch of the bones breaking filled the room along with his cries of pain. The man grabbed Jimmy’s broken nose and gave it a twist as the bones are forced back into place they made a snapping and cracking noise.

What are you going to do Jimmy, you are duct taped to a metal chair. Your hands and feet are zip tied to the chair, that is secured to the floor with sixteen-inch bolts. You are not going anywhere Jimmy boy until you tell me what I want to know. He placed the tape back on Jimmy’s mouth and walked over to the table reaching up into the cabinet, took out a coffee maker and a bag of coffee. The man found a good purpose for it. He made a nice hot pot and poured a large cup of it, he then walked over to Jimmy and removed the tape.

W-What, you going to do make me drink that shit, you think that will work? Jimmy started to scream at the top of his voice. You are a fucking; inhuman monster! You just boiled my nuts off. It, fucking hurts. The man-made another cup and poured it over Jimmy. Once again, his screams filled the room again. Oh God, my balls, you fucking sadist bastard how you can do this? You are a man to. You know how bad this, hurts!

Jimmy boy this is nothing, this is just the beginning. It gets a lot worse from here on out. His eyes widened in fear. The man walked back over to the cabinet and pulled out several tools. Looking over them, he picked up a pair of needle-nose pliers and turned looking at Jimmy.

Do you get a pedicure? Of course, you do, I watched you get one. Jimmy’s mind was now in overload. He now knew the man had been following him for weeks and he did not even know it. What was this madman going to do to him next?

He walked over to him and removed a shoe, Damn Jimmy your feet stink. You see these, showing him the pliers. I am going to pull each and every one of your toenails off on this foot unless you want to tell me what I want to know.

Jimmy just shook his head. The man started with the pinky toe, Jimmy scrunched his toes in the hope he could not get ahold of his toenail, but the man did anyway. He slowly started to pull on it until the end of the toenail tore loose from the skin on the back of the toe. Jimmy was writhing in pain his eyes were watering and wide from the pain. The man finished pulling the rest of it off, getting up and showed it to him with little pieces of flesh still on it. Going over to the cabinet he pulled down a couple of things

You know I have done this a lot. I mean a lot; you see I am not just the run of the mill type. I am a specialist at this. I am hired by governments all around the world for my skills. Jimmy was trying to say something. I’m sorry, here. He ripped the tape off Jimmy’s mouth, making him wince in pain. Oh, come on, it could not have hurt as much as the other stuff.

I know who and what you are, you’re Kincade the assassin. Everyone in my world knows who you are, and yes it hurts like hell.

Hmm, I might use that sometime in the future on very hairy people. As I was saying I have found that the most basic stuff you find around the house makes for the best tools to get information such as this common every-day salt and rubbing alcohol. Kincade reached into the cabinet and pulled out some salt and rubbing alcohol. He picked up Jimmy’s stinky socks and shoved them in Jimmy’s mouth. His pinky toe was still bleeding but not bad, Kincade took the salt and poured it onto his toe and let it sit there a few minutes.

Jimmy, now pay attention. I am going to give you a lesson. Jimmy was writhing around in pain.

When salt is poured into a wound it disrupts the balance of the negative and positive ions that are located on both sides of the cell membrane. This makes the positive a negative and the negative a positive. When this occurs, a sensation then sent to the neuron and causes pain. Salt is also good because it will burn out anything bad like bacteria. Then we use the rubbing alcohol it is just the icing on the cake it makes thing a whole lot worse. We will do this until your entire fingers and toenails are off unless you want to tell me what I want to know

He removed the tape. Jimmy was now slobbering from the pain, If you are so damn smart then why don’t you give me something to make me talk and get it over with you bastard.

I really wanted to, but your boss said no deal. He said you had to suffer, it had to be painful for you until you cannot take it anymore. In other words, I must break you to get the truth and I always get the truth so tell me and it will be over with.

You just better fucking kill me then cause I ain’t telling you nothing, you got it nothing. Jimmy started to laugh in defiance.

Kincade stuck the stinky socks back in and finished pulling off the rest of his toenails off until he passed out. Taking a cold cup of coffee and threw it on him, Jimmy woke up in a fit of pain. Jimmy boy, your toe’s look like purple grapes, oozing purple grapes. You ready to start the next round?

What day is it?

Jimmy it is still the same day, it just feels longer because you passed out from the pain.

Oh fuck, I was hoping days had passed. My wife would have called the police by now.

Jimmy, no one is coming looking for you, they told your wife, you left town with an old girlfriend. Your wife is home packing your shit up. You understand now, you are alone here. So tell me what I want to know and save what is left t of your toes and fingers ok.

You can go fuck yourself. I am no squealer, and my wife will never believe that I left her.

Jimmy boy, Bobo told her himself. I would say that’s it for you and her. After you are gone, do you mind if I look her up? I think I might have a shot with her, you don’t mind, do you?

You stay the. He had to stop in midsentence because of the screams coming from him as Kincade poured more hot coffee on him. Tears started to pour down Jimmy’s face. Whether it was the pain from Kincade or the thought of his wife leaving, only he knew.

You ready to tell me what I want to know Jimmy. Where is the damn money, who is the person helping you, dumb son of a bitch? Kincade looked down at his watch. Shit. Jimmy boy we will pick this up tomorrow. I have got to be somewhere, so this is what is going to happen. You are going to stay here with this IV in you, it has fluids and other stuff to keep you alive. I will be back here tomorrow and we can start again.

Where in the hell are you going, got someone else’s balls to boil?

No, just need to grab dinner and some real coffee and watch my favorite TV show.

Jimmy started to laugh. What is it, wheel of torture?

No, that we start tomorrow. He said smiling at him as he left. Kincade made his way down several flights of stairs and out the front door. The abandoned apartment he used to torture was in the worst part of town. Even if someone heard they would not call the cops. He caught a cab and took it uptown. The cab stopped in front of a coffee shop. It was over one hundred years old. He lived in an apartment upstairs, actually, he owned it all however, he never let anyone know it.

The door attendant greeted him. How has your day been Mr. Jones? Was it a long day on the floor?

Yea Charley, too long. I need a stiff belt.

I heard we just got in a fresh batch of your favorite enjoy.

Thank you, Charley, I will. He walked into the coffee shop and got his table; it was in the back facing out at everyone. This way he could see who was coming and going.

The server Emily came up to him, Hello Mr. Jones, Charley said you might need a stiff belt tonight.

Yes I could, make it a double and keep them coming and I will have my usual meal.

No problem Mr. J, double large vanilla biscotti with milk and sugar and a double bacon cheeseburger with fries. You want anything sweet with that Mr. J., she said swing her hip and batting her eyes at him.

No, but thank you, She had been using that line for years, but she was too young. She worked at the bar because her father was the barkeep. He took his drink and food up to his room getting in his favorite chair just in time for his favorite show Archer. Not only did he look like the main charter in the show, but he was a spy as well. It was one of his favorite episodes titled just the tip.

The ringing cell phone woke Kincade up. It was Bobo. I told you not to call me. I said I will let you know when I find out who helped him.

And I told you I wanted daily updates. What have you learned?

I learned he is a lot tougher than you thought and is fiercely loyal to the person he is working with.

Will that be a problem? Can you still get the info I need? Or should I find another person? Now, this pissed him off. Nobody insulted his results or him. He worked for world leaders and never failed in the contract he had been given. He was doing him a favor by doing this job it was so far beneath him. He came to Kincade, seeking him out through contacts that Bobo had in the government. He offered a very large sum of money to do the job for him. He was now criticizing his job, the bastard.

Remember you came to me. I told you I would have the answer you want in no longer than three days. No more, no less, I will run my op the way I want to. I will let you know as soon as I find out the info you want. Do you understand me, Bobo?

It was Don Bobo to his friends and Kincade was not one of them right now. Don Bobo’s voice was shaking from fear or, being really pissed off. He did not care either way. Kincade could wipe them all out if he wanted to. He had been gathering Intel on them for months. He knew everything about each one of them just in case they try to betray him. Ok, we will do it your way for now; however, I want the information on time got it?

Kincade smiled. You will have your information on time no problem. Bobo hung up the phone. Most likely he was pissed, Kincade was not worried. He had been tapping their phone, cell phones, and computers along with putting bugs in all their places of business and homes. He would know if one of them even took an odd color shit in the toilet. Fucking Italian mob, they were nothing if not predictable.

Kincade woke up the next morning in a bad mood. He needed coffee in a bad way. After he showered and shaved, he got dressed and went downstairs to eat. After a hearty breakfast and God knows how many cups of coffee, he had the server fill his thermos. He needed to get back to Jimmy boy, but he had to make a stop at the kitchen supply store first. The cab stopped outside the store called All Things Kitchen. This was one of his favorite places for torture items, if you don’t think so then just look around your own kitchen. You will see all kinds of stuff that could be used to inflict pain on you and others.

The owner was a French frog of a person. You know, the ones who always said French this, French that, everything French is better.

Bonjour Mr. Jones how can I help you today. The man looked like he walked out of an old cartoon; the ones where the waiter is always French. He was skinny as hell, hair looking like he used five pounds of grease to slick it back with a nose that arrives two minutes before the rest of him.

I am looking for an old-style box grater we used to call knuckle busters in my day Maurice. You got any? Maurice, what kind of name was that. He sure in hell was no Charles The Hammer Martel.

Oui, I have lots of French graters for all matter of things. What is it you are grating.

Human flesh, Kincade wanted to say just to see his reaction. Maurice would probably shit himself if Kincade did. Instead, he said, Some really dense and stinky cheese.

His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas day. He had something expensive for him. Maurice has just what you need. I just got this in, it is a French electronic grater. It can grate everything from hard cheese to soft cheese to vegetables, anything you need and it’s only.

Kincade held up his hand to stop him. He thought to himself, Yea, but I cannot stick a person’s leg in it and slowly peel off his flesh slowly. This thing would strip him to the bone in seconds. Not to mention the price was probably several thousand dollars and all I need is five-dollar box grater. Kincade might be incredibly rich, but he was also cheap. He did not spend more than he needed to. He looked at the shop owner.

Maurice all I need is old fashion box grater. I see you have lots of them on the wall there. I will take the stainless steel one. Yea, that one will do nicely.

Maurice wrapped it up for me with a grumpy look on his face. He wanted a big sale. Catching a cab, he headed back to where Jimmy boy was, opening the door he could see Jimmy was still out. The drugs helped keep him asleep. Kincade pulled out a propane blowtorch from under the cabinet and a fire poker, he would need it white-hot. He made a steaming hot pot of coffee and got the box grater ready for its job. Going over to Jimmy taking out his IV, Kincade waited for him to wake up.

Slowly Jimmy started to move, time to speed thing up. He took a big cup of coffee and poured it on Jimmy. The duct tape on his mouth muffled his screams. His eyes were blazing with fear and rage. He wanted to kill someone and Kincade was the only person in the room. He poured another cup of hot coffee and poured it on Jimmy’s crotch. A muffled scream came from him that sounded like U UNK ATARD. You ready to tell me what I want to know Jimmy boy? Huh, are you? He yanked off the duct tape because he knew it would hurt.

Ow! You know that hurts like a son-of-a-bitch! And my balls are fucking hard-boiled now you bastard.

Kincade put rubber gloves on and slugged him hard in the jaw. Now, Now Jimmy boy watch your language. Jimmy unleashed a barrage of obscenities at him. He slugged Jimmy again, watching as he slumped over and spit out several teeth and a good amount of blood. Jimmy, today I am going to test your threshold of pain. He pulled out a small bottle and set it on the table and then the new box grater.

What the hell was yesterday then, a day at the park?

Yes, yesterday was more like in your profession termed a sit-down. We will start with this. He picked up the little bottle and showed it to him. It is my own version of hydrochloric acid. You do know what that is? Jimmy just nodded his head up and down. His eyes were wide with fear and he was sweating. He had heard stories about what this could do. Normal hydrochloric acid would eat through human flesh depending on the amount of salt on your skin. Mine will eat through the skin no matter how much salt is on your skin. And it eats your skin very slowly to maximize the pain

You are a damn monster. You are a Victor fucking Frankenstein you sick fucker.

Kincade smiled at him and said. Thank you. If you are able to handle this, then we will move you to the big boy toys. Kincade picked you the box grater.

What are you going to make me some cheese with that?

He laughed and poured another cup of hot coffee over his crotch, down his back, and on his face. Jimmy screams rang out.

We need to do something about you screaming. Even though no one can hear you it is hurting my ears. He went to the cabinet and got a ball gag. You are not putting that in my mouth.

He reached out and pinched Jimmy’s nose closed until he opened his mouth for air and stuffed in the ball gag in and fastened it around the back of Jimmy’s head. Um, by the way, you might not want to swallow if you slobber on that thing. The South American ladyboy hooker I stole that from did not look really clean in any way. He was just messing with

Reviews for Kincade

[d-fbuser-584165015 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a great read. The book was very well written and moved at a fast pace. I loved the characters and the storyline. I highly recommend this book.