Informer 2: The Treachery Of Friends

By Rhoan Flowers

The Rough Rider Gang had ruled the streets of Montreal for decades and without the tyrants of terror governing the illegal underground markets, it was only a matter of time before some opportunistic crew tried to seize control. While many expected the new rulers to rise from within the city, a formidable opponent intervened from across the U.S b

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rhoan Flowers
• Release date: Dec 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781989995006

Rhoan Flowers

After taking full control of his entire book production organization, the StreetAuthor, Rhoan Flowers who has written several novels decided to venture out and assist fellow upcoming authors with the production of their books.

Book preview

Part 1

Kelowna, British Columbia

The short list of twenty-five friends who were invited to Karin and Brock Finnegan’s evening of refreshments by their poolside, began arriving at 6 PM on the date the event was scheduled. It was a delightful Sunday summer day, where the sun glistened across the blue skies and the company of intimate friends, was assured of properly punctuate another glorious day. The Finnegan’s seldom hosted events, where they hired caterers to provide the food and refreshments, in addition to entertainment and valet parking for their wealthy associates.

The brash and assertive Federal Prosecutor, who married the daughter of one of Vancouver’s most prominent businessmen, lived in the Okanagan Valley region, in a private 3.7-million-dollar home, which was given as a wedding present, by the groom’s father-in-law. The Finnegan’s had been married for nearly five years, yet the couple had no children, though they did have a Chihuahua and a German Shepherd as pets, and regularly competed in sporting events such as triathlons and distance racing. The couple’s luxurious home with its surrounding fifteen-foot pine hedges, that were always adequately trimmed, provided serenity and privacy from neighbors who were unable to uninterruptedly view the property.

Once the first handful of guests arrived, the couple dove into their roles as entertainers, and left the handling of their arriving guests to the hired helpers. Following the arrivals of Pierce and Anna McCloud at 6:40 PM, the valets’ who believed the guest list had been completed, were surprised with the arrival of a limousine, which brought an additional three guests. With no formal invitations given to the guests prior, the servants were incredibly pleasant in welcoming the final arrivals, as they passed and made their way toward the festivities.

The Finnegan’s invited guests were scattered across their humongous back yard, thus those last to arrive were in attendance for nearly ten minutes, before Karin gracefully made her way over to properly greet them. The female hostess appeared overzealous, as she pleasantly walked over to the party of three, who were camped out towards the southern section of the pool. The lone female among the group was Karin’s best friend, who had initially declined the invitation, but later changed her mind. Brock Finnegan had been engaged in a sterile conversation with several of his colleagues, who were part of the recreational basketball team he played on.

Karin’s female friend was a beautiful twenty-eight-year-old brunet named Shayna. Both ladies had spoken earlier, about Karin’s urge to engage in an extra marital affair, following descriptions of the massive orgasms her friend had been experiencing during sex. After being introduced to her girlfriend’s boy-toy at a separate engagement, then discovering he was half of an identical pair, Karin immediately requested to meet the sibling, who was said to be single. Shayna was accompanied by her boyfriend, whose distinct features had intrigued the married hostess, who became excited to discover there was another with such refined beauty. The girlfriends embraced, at which Karin whispered, He’s just as gorgeous as his brother, to which her friend replied, And unlike your husband, they’re both packing! They chuckled as they released each other, but Shayna maintained a hold of Karin’s hand, as she performed the introductions.

Karin you’ve met my boyfriend Stephan, re-introduced Shayna!

Hello again Stephan, nice seeing you, declared Karin, as she shook the blue eyed, blond hair, hunk’s hand, whom she had heard riveting sexual episodes about! Then she turned her attention to his identical twin.

And this is his twin brother Thomas, introduced Shayna!

Hello Thomas, it’s very nice to meet you, Karin stated, as her heart pounded in her chest!

The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Finnegan, seductively responded the twin, as he took her hand into his, and gently kissed it.

Brock who was in the middle of relaying a sentiment, caught a glimpse of the hand smooch over his friend’s shoulder, but excused the gesture as pleasantries, as he chatted on. Although Mr. Finnegan ignored his wife’s mingling, the thought of who the handsome blond twins were, sparked his curiosity.

I trust you guys are enjoying the entertainment and refreshments, Karin enquired of her companions?

It has been divine thus far, Thomas replied!

Just exquisite and, may I say what a beautiful home you have, Stephan stated!

While the invited guests enjoyed the festivities, the chauffeur who drove the twin’s limousine exited the vehicle and, began walking towards the function. The three hired valet attendants watched the casually dressed male walked up the driveway, under the assumption that he needed to use the restroom. Once the driver of the limousine got within thirty feet, the valets began looking at each other in amazement, because they had watched two other identical males walked by earlier and, were convinced neither had passed by since. The handsome blond hair, blue eyed gentleman, casually walked by the three Caucasian valets, then spun around and asked a question.

Ah, you guys know where the guests’ bathroom is, began the gentleman, to which the valet attendants turned their attention in astonishment, at a disbursing Gluck 40, with a silencer attached to the nozzle? Following the slayings, the blond hair gentleman re-concealed his weapon, removed a Vancouver Canucks fitted cap from beneath his jacket, placed it on his head, then nonchalantly proceeded to the main house. The front door was unlatched because to the party, hence, the uninvited assailant put on his Latex gloves and entered. There were servants going from the kitchen to the backyard on a regular basis, which was the only section of the main house being utilized.

The Finnegan’s two dogs was a Chihuahua that was the only pet allowed to roam about when guests were present, and a German shepherd that behaved too vicious around strangers, therefore he had to be locked inside Brock’s personal office. With everyone camped out to the rear of the house, the intruder snuck his way through to Mr. Finnegan’s office, which was where the property’s security system had been rerouted.

At the clack of the door lock, the resting K-9 pranced to its feet, expecting its master to summon him or walk into the room. The stranger who entered the office startled the animal, which began snarling, as it prepared to attack. The intruder spun around at the sound of the K-9’s growl, and immediately grabbed for his weapon, but was unable to retrieve it due to his belt buckle’s interference.

Ruurrr, the German shepherd growled, while its powerful frame muscled towards the intruder!

The home invader cancelled his first option and timed the charging animal, before he delivered a swift right kick to the K-9’s head, as it leapt at him. The musical entertainment being provided by a local DJ, slightly drowned out the barking sound, although Brock froze in midsentence, as he listened closely for an additional alert from his pet. The animal, which also startled the food servers, was never again heard from, as the intruder unfastened his belt buckle, rearmed himself, and shot the K-9 before the dog struck the ground from the kick to the head. After grabbing and realigning his falling pants, the man proceeded to infiltrate the homeowner’s security system, where he erased recorded footage captured that day. The intruder then dismantled Brock’s entire security system, his computer equipment, and every electronic communicative device inside the office. While searching through the Federal Prosecutor’s desk drawer, the intruder was elated to find his personal weapon and badge, which suggested that Brock was possibly unarmed. Before leaving the office, the intruder who felt truly remorseful about killing the animal, ripped down a curtain from the window and covered the dog with it.

Master Chef Ronald Capers was busy stirring the sauce he had made for his shrimp raps, while his personal assistants decorated the waiting servers’ tray with hors-d’oeuvres, when the well-armed intruder entered and whistled to gain everyone’s attention. At the sight of the weapon everyone froze except for one of Chef Capers’ servers, who believed she could safely escape the danger. The server took two steps from her position, before the intruder mercilessly squeezed the trigger, and plastered her across the floor.

Now, I will not repeat myself again! Everybody sit your fucking asses over there on the floor right now! Cell phones and communications devices, as I pass by, drop them in the bag! Anyone who fails to comply, will get the same treatment as your stupid employee over there, the intruder threatened, in a stern and terrifying tone!

Everyone inside the kitchen scurried to where the invader pointed and sat without argument, after watching their coworker get shot down like a dog. The thought of sitting inches from the blood-draining corpse of their coworker’s sickened the Finnegan’s caterers, some of whom began silently praying, they lived to survive the ordeal. The intruder went around and collected everyone’s phones, after which he ordered them to lay flat on their stomachs, with both feet and hands crossed behind their backs. Everybody then got their hands and feet bound with plastic restraints, before the intruder sealed their mouths with Duct Tape.

With his captives immobilized, the intruder checked his weapon’s magazine and exchanged it for a loaded cartridge, following which he walked out to the reception area to join the party. The home intruder was barely through the French design doors that led to the patio, when he grabbed a female guest heading to the restroom and, stuck his automatic weapon to her temple. To discourage any possibly armed guest from interfering with the proceedings, the intruder hid behind the female and used her as a protective shield. At the sound of the woman’s scream, everyone turned their attention to the discouraging sight, which ruined a rather spectacular gathering among friends.

The servers won’t be collecting your plates or glasses, so drop them where you stand and get your fucking hands in the air, the intruder instructed, to which even his terrified captive dropped her beverage!

Whoever you are, I’m afraid you chose the wrong house to rob! I’m a Federal Prosecutor, so just think about what you’re doing and---. Brock commented!

How bout you shut the fuck up Finnegan, before a bullet shut it for you! And that goes for everyone else also, don’t think we’re here to fuck around, the robber adamantly threatened!

Oh my God, I can’t believe this shit is actually happening, Karin whisperingly exclaimed, as her heart rate increased!

Did he just say we, Shayna whispered to her small group?

While the startled girlfriends focused their attention at the intruder, both their male counterparts secretly removed their concealed pistols, attached their silencers to the nozzle and joined their intrusive companion.

Like he said ladies and gentlemen, keep your hands where we can see them! Anyone thinking of being some hero; forget that shit right now or you’re going to be a corpse, Stephan warned, as he went around searching everyone, while his brothers’ maintained order!

Now ladies and gentlemen we are going to take this party inside for a little more privacy, instructed Roger, once they were assured no one else was armed.

Karin felt somewhat responsible for the intruders’ invasion, therefore she walked off ahead of Shayna and caught up to her husband. The initial home invader, who maintained a strangle hold of his subdued captive, led everyone through the hallways that brought them to the day’s room. As the captives passed the kitchen area, their pulses and concerns for their personal safety increased, at the sight of the deceased service helper. Prior to the excruciating sight of the helper’s dead body, nobody disputed the intruder’s motives, but the corpse placed into context the extent their captors were willing to go. Thomas, who was the last man to enter the kitchen, closed the patio doors behind himself, before he turned his attention to the immobilized helpers. The intruder walked around the kitchen and stood directly behind each immobilized servant, pointed his weapon at the defenseless workers, and mercilessly executed them all.

Once inside the dayroom, the captives were corralled like cattle in the middle of the chamber, before their captors ordered three men to rearrange the furniture. The men were instructed to align the furniture against the sidewalls, which provided a larger open area for them to operate. Patrons, who were concerned about their invaders’ intentions, trembled with fear, as they hung tightly onto other curious associates. Some of the women had begun sobbing in fear of the unknown, while their equally intimidated companions pretended as if they were confident the situation would be resolved.

Everybody, strip off all your clothes and toss them on the sofa, the first intruder instructed!

Oh no way am I taking off my clothes, the largest woman in the group mumbled!

Honey these guys aren’t fucking around, take your clothes off, argued her husband, who whispered at a high pitch!

Hey dumpling, I said, take them all off now, the intruder indicated with a stern tone, as he yanked back his weapon’s selector and aimed it at the female!

At the realization that she was staring down the weapon’s silencer, the woman quickly began unbuttoning her blouse, though she was somewhat reluctant to exhibit her extra body fat. Although the threat of being killed loomed over the captives’ heads, Stephan reemphasized the seriousness of the moment, by shattering Brock’s eighty-inch 3D television with a bullet, which forced the hesitant complainers to comply. The embarrassed captives, after removing their garments, attempted to maintain some form of dignity, by covering up private areas with their hands. While the scared captives shamefully shielded themselves, their captors prepared to be entertained, by acquiring refreshments and, locating an agreeable station on the radio. The identical blond triplets, whose similarities made them impossible to differentiate, were disturbingly acute in their business endeavors, although most of their captives still believed their situation was a random occurrence.

With everyone nervous to find out what their captors had in stored for them, Brock Finnegan was summoned and brought to the kitchen, which resembled a slaughterhouse by that point. The sight of the multiple executions was rather unsettling for the party host, who fought to abstain from looking at the body fragments, splashed against the walls and the floors. The intruders had laid out a series of documents for the young prosecutor to autograph, but even after witnessing the carnage throughout the kitchen, Brock still took his time to sign.

I hope these are all you guys want, so we can get on with our lives without any further incidents, Brock exclaimed, while stalling to decipher the type of papers he was signing.

The gentleman invader was in no mood for small talk, and pressed the silencer against Brock’s head, then stated, Just sign the fucking papers, this trigger is very sensitive!

Ok take it easy, I’m signing, Brock acknowledged!

Once Brock got led back to the dayroom the entertainment began, where the intruders ordered everyone to indulge in group sex. Like the previous order to remove their clothing, everyone looked around scared and puzzled, which led Brock to describe what he witnessed inside the kitchen.

Listen everyone, they killed the entire kitchen staff, and God knows I don’t want to end up that way, so, said Brock, who then grabbed his wife and began passionately French kissing her, before the intruders interrupted.

Hold on there, Speedy Gonzalez, I can see why your wife dreams about other men! Swingers style ladies and gentlemen, in case you don’t know what that means; you fuck anybody else, except their partner, instructed an intruder!

Brock’s revelation innerved his already unsettled guests, therefore, everyone participated by first stimulating their partners, through intimate caressing and oral sex, while their captors watched, recorded and enjoyed the entertainment. The three intruders stood on separate side of the room, consuming beer, while they munched on their captives’ hors d’oeuvres. While two of the triplets simply enjoyed the show, the third used his cellular phone and recorded the sexual orgy. The indescribable tension prior to physical contact, subsided once everyone got aroused, thus the thermostat inside the room mounted. Regardless of their predicament, the more promiscuous individuals within the group enjoyed the free for all, where they could fulfill secret fantasies. The sex fest lasted for an hour and forty-three minutes, following which most of the participants passed out from fatigue across the floor.

After the captives had their sexual appetites quenched, Stephan ordered Raymond Keel to step forth. The forty-one-year-old, father of two, was rather surprised to hear his name mentioned, nevertheless, he rose from the group and responded. As Raymond approached Stephan, the intruder pointed his weapon at his forehead before he ordered him, ‘to fall to his knee!’. With the assumption that he was about to be killed, Raymond did as ordered, following which he closed his eyes, as memories of his family flashed through his thoughts.

Raymond Keel was the branch manager for the TD Waterhouse Bank on Main Street, and became the only person left alive, when the shooting ended. The silencers quieted the loud bangs from the invaders’ automatic weapons, yet Raymond felt the wisp of wind that fanned his face, when bullets exited Stephan’s firearm. When Raymond reopened his eyes and realized he wasn’t dead, the banker had no doubt that everyone else had been killed. The Caucasian male’s face became as pale as a newborn baby, after his assumptions were realized by the deafening silence that filled the room.

Get up, get your shit, and put them on, Stephan instructed.

While Raymond got dressed, two of the home invaders went about the house, at which they cleaned and manipulated the crime scene, before they returned with Mrs. Finnegan’s dog. With their business concluded, the intruders exited with Mr. Keel as their lone captive, the Chihuahua, and the Glad garbage bag filled with confiscated items. Raymond’s car keys were taken from him, and he was forced to sit in the rear of his Audi A8, with one of his armed captors. The limousine followed closely behind the Audi for a few blocks, before the vehicle deviated onto a separate route.

The driver of the Audi, without any directions from Raymond, drove directly to the banker’s house on Royal Pine Drive, in the Mt. Royal area, where he used the car’s remote to open his garage. With the banker’s children away on summer holidays with their grandparents in Paris, the captors knew they were safe to manipulate certain evidence. The captive was brought into the kitchen of his beautiful contemporary home, where the captors handed him a pen and paper, with instructions on what to write. The note which read, I’m truly sorry, was left atop the kitchen counter, before Mr. Keel was taken into his bedroom, where the intruders strung him up on the ceiling fan and hung him. The captors left an insurmountable amount of evidence to convict Mr. Keel, such as the weapons, articles belonging to the victims, and Mrs. Finnegan’s dog.

The intruders’ limousine pulled up to Raymond’s house and retrieved their colleagues, who disguised themselves with baseball caps, dark glasses, and jackets before they departed. The moment the limousine drove away, Roger’s cellular phone rang, which brought a concerned looked on his face, as he stared at the weird number. Roger held the phone aloft for his brothers to see the number, which read Xs across the screen. The blond hair triplet answered the phone by placing the caller on speaker, for everyone to hear the conversation.

Hello, Roger answered!

I am a true French Canadian, Monsieur Alex Hickston, a Groggy sounding old man, who knew the biker’s true identity declared in French.

Sir, how may I be of service, Roger answered, after a brief pause?

There are important matters that demand your immediate attention on the east coast. You’ll receive your objectives via courier. This is a very sensitive issue and must be dealt with accordingly, instructed the voice before the phone line went dead!

Part 2

The new Prime Minister of Canada, Mr. Mathew Layton, made an unscheduled stop in Montreal, during his trip to Artic Bay in the Baffin Region of Nunavut; where he was scheduled to meet with the local Inuit counsel, to discuss matters prevalent to the Echo System. Mr. Layton’s brief stop, where he remained onboard his aircraft while it taxied into a private hanger; was undocumented by the airport’s officials, who were advised of the top-secret meeting. Instead of any of the major airports around Montreal, the meeting was scheduled at a noncommercial airport, located northeast of the island, at the Dufferin Boulevard exit, off Highway-50 in Quebec.

Once the hanger doors were closed, Kevin emerged from a SUV parked inside, with two heavily armed men both dressed in black. His escorts followed him to the foot of the plane, where he ran up the stairs into the cabin like an expected guest. The hostess who stood by the door, pointed the Jamaican into the cabin where Prime Minister Layton was comfortably having a drink; hence he gestured to Kevin to join him and have a seat. The dread lox rasta-man walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of Brugal 1888 Rum, before he joined the Canadian leader at his conference table.

I somehow get the sense that I’m shaking the hand of the first Canadian dictator, Prime Minister Layton lamented!

I would think of myself as more of a negotiator, Kevin answered.

Not given the cards you’re holding Mr. Walsh, Mr. Layton responded.

I was lucky enough to hit that lifetime jackpot at the casino one night! Then it just became a matter of knowing how to use that to my advantage, Kevin suggested!

You do realize that I could have you thrown in a dungeon somewhere, where you’ll never again see the light of day, threatened the Prime Minister!?

Kevin smirked at Mr. Layton with his charismatic smile, before taking a drink of his rum. I have thousands of illegal transactions that were legitimately arranged by government officials, since the birth of this country! When you get a chance, ask your father about his involvement in the stolen gold from the National Mint Scandal, in 1982. I’m sure a lot of Canadians would be interested in finding out, where a significant amount of your campaign money came from!

What must Canada do to ensure that the information you have in your position, never get in the wrong hands? Not like it’s not now, but we’re---, began Mr. Layton.

Choice-less! Kevin leaned into the Prime Minister and stared at him through his marijuana induced red fiery eyes and said, I’m not here for what causes you to worry, I’m here to cure whatever else troubles you!

I don’t think you quite understand me sir! See there are constituents who will never get an ounce of sleep with the type of materials you have in your possession. My God man, the thought that you walk about free after killing a known figure on national television, not only angers Canadians, but this is going to cost some people their jobs!

But by the same token Mr. Prime Minister, they might as well consider me a national icon, because what if the Chinese, the Soviets, or any other country successfully kidnap me and get their hands on the centuries of Canadian data that I have, Kevin stated?

Please, let’s not get all irrational now Mr. Walsh, joked the Prime Minister!

Like I said before, I’m here to offer you your chance to win your lifetime jackpot Mr. Prime Minister, Kevin declared!

I’m the Prime Minister for one of the best democratic societies in the world! I’d say I have my lifetime jackpot, Prime Minister Layton answered!

Kevin at that point removed a CD disk from his breast pocket and passed it to the Canadian leader. There is only the order, stated the Jamaican Rude Buoy!

Prime Minister Layton attempted to downplay his earlier comments, once he realized that Kevin understood his vast importance among the nations. Ha-ha-ha-ha, don’t be nervous by these constituents of mine, I’m positive we will keep you safe on our good old Canadian soil!

Despite his ranting, it was evident that Kevin was unfazed, as he pulled a marijuana joint from his pocket and sparked it ablaze. Kevin took a few ceremonial puffs, before he passed the joint to the Prime Minister, who precariously declined, before he inhaled a small whiff. Mr. Layton began coughing as if he was about to vomit, before he soothed the sensation with a gulp of his liquor.

Nice! That’s my peace pipe Mr. Prime Minister, we’re good now, Kevin declared!

I don’t think, I did that right the first time, let me hit that again, the Prime Minister insisted?

Kevin watched the Prime Minister take a decent sift and, became impressed by the Canadian Leader’s stoppage of breath, to stimulate his natural high.

Bow-bow-bow, the Jamaican Rude Buoy yelled out in excitement!

Armed guards burst into the cabin and startled the Prime Minister, who nearly choked on the smoke in his lungs, therefore he tossed the marijuana joint at Kevin, then waved his guards from the compartment. The sudden explosion from a weapon caused the Prime Minister to jump in his seat, as he looked over and realized that Kevin had discharged his concealed weapon. The bullet struck one of the two intruding guards in the right shoulder and bore through, which forced Kevin to apologize for his actions.

Sorry my bad Big Man! Old habits, Kevin declared, before he rested his weapon on his lap.

The injured guard was attended to by the airhostess and other staff personnel, who brought him to the rear of the plane and dressed his wound. Those who witnessed the incident compared it to the Wild West, because of the quickness with which Kevin drew and fired his weapon. Even the recovering Prime Minister became fascinated at the swift response of his guest, who could have dropped both guards before either of them fired a shot.

Wow, you’re rather exceptional with a gun, Mr. Layton stated!

My mother never raised me to be a gunman Mr. Prime Minister; I’ve only played the cards dealt to me since then. But because of her I live to change my life, so my son won’t have to endure the same prejudices I did, Kevin said!

I don’t think your mother would have wanted you to go down this road either, because it sounds to me like she was an honorable woman, Mr. Layton argued.

Don’t chastise me Mr. Prime Minister! You’ll find the data erased off the disc after viewing and the response line inoperative after your initial call. I thank you for the drink and on that question about what Canada can do to keep me safe. I’ll keep the special forces guards for now, Kevin advised, as he rose from his seat, used a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe clean the weapon and placed it on the table.

What am I to do with this, Prime Minister Layton enquired?

If you guys are to claim an accident to explain your guard’s injury, then I assume you would need the weapon that shot him, Kevin exclaimed, as he extended his hand for a handshake.

During their handshake, the Prime Minister’s personal assistant came barreling into the compartment with urgent news, after first tapping on the siding to announce her intentions. Mr. Prime Minister, we have just gotten word that Judge Antoine Bryere, has committed suicide at his home in Westmount!

It seems it’s time for damage control Mr. Layton, Kevin declared, as he exited the plane!

Tell the pilots to get us back in the air and get me the details on the judge’s suicide, ordered Mr. Layton!

Kevin descended from the aircraft into his awaiting escort’s protection, before being ushered into his vehicle. The two-vehicle convoy raced from the hanger the instant the doors were slid open, with the Prime Minister’s plane following suit thereafter.

Where to boss, asked Kevin’s driver?

Let’s go eat! What kind of food do you guys like, Kevin asked?

Chinese, yelled the two guards in the front seats, like kids agreeing to fast food!

Well, China Town it is Mac, Fou Wong Restaurant on St. Denis Street, Kevin directed.

The Jamaican Rude Buoy dialed his close friend, who was engaged in a heated argument with his wife. For the first few seconds of the conversation, because of the strange phone number listed, his friend abstained from answering, while exchanging some derogatory statements with his partner.

---me looking like a fucking idiot! Fuck it, the shit is all over the fucking Indian news you stupid bitch, Kane argued!

Go fuck yourself you pencil dick motherfucker! My mother was right, ‘stick with your own fucking kind,’ but I had to live my own life! You and your people can go fuck yourselves, I don’t fucking need you! As soon as I’m done packing my shit I’m gone, you fucking looser, Alyiah cursed!

Talk all you want but that fucking car is going back, you conniving bitch! You think you can pick up your man leaving jail in that, and they don’t plaster it all over the news? What the fuck, you don’t think I got enough fucking problems, dealing with these racist cops around here, Kane stated?

While Alyiah continued arguing, Kane took a minute to respond to the caller.

Hello, Kane answered!

Problems in lover’s paradise already brother, Kevin joked?

Oh my God my brother, how are you? Where are you, Kane asked?

I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, Kevin remarked!

I’m sorry, but I have very bad news my brother. It’s about Junior, I’m afraid I heard someone kidnapped him, Kane exclaimed.

What? Any idea who has him, Kevin questioned?

None at all brother, Kane responded.

While Kane and Kevin spoke, Alyiah secretly loaded her luggage in the sports car being argued about and drove off. At the sound of the vehicle’s engine starting, Kane checked his pocket and realized that the main keys were still in his possession. However, he had neglected to secure the spare keys, which she used to confiscate the vehicle. The Native Indian ran out to the sight of the taillights exiting his property, which overwhelmed him to yell out in frustration.

That fucking bitch, Kane yelled!

What’s wrong brother, Kevin enquired?

The bitch just took off with the fucking car, Kane exclaimed!

It’s only a car brother, take it easy, Kevin jokingly remarked!

Yeah, a hundred and eighty thousand dollars’ worth, that she mysteriously took out in my name without my knowledge, Kane declared!

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That pussy had you so duked that you got caught slipping! We’ll find her brother, but how long has Junior been missing, Kevin asked?

Brother it’s been a few days. If I knew where he was, I would go and get him himself, Kane declared!

Say no more brother, you know that I’ll find him! Peace be onto you, and you never heard from me, Kevin said.

Peace be onto you also my brother, Kane stated.

The pair of hummers pulled up across the street from Fou Wong Restaurant, located in the heart of China Town, downtown Montreal. Kevin’s bodyguards exited both vehicles with their automatic weapon cocked to fire, and looked around to ensure the area was clear, before they transferred their client into the establishment. There was a developing trend occurring around the city, where Kevin’s guards began noticing the respect being awarded to their client, by strangers of many creed. While transferring Kevin into the restaurant, the scene became as though they were protecting a rock star, with everyone bowing in respect or rushing closer to capture a picture. The lovely Chinese receptionist addressed Kevin as if he was a regular at the restaurant, while two of the guards prevented anyone from following them inside.

How are you today Mr. Henry? If you gentlemen would be so kind as to follow me, please, the receptionist greeted, before she showed the men to their seats?

The female led Kevin’s entourage into a private room, which was designed for conference meetings and group dining. Each guard hung their automatic weapons over the backrest of their chairs, as they gathered around a huge table.

I will let father know that you are here, and everyone, please, enjoy your meal, the receptionist stated with a bow!

Thank you, Sari! You fellows may order whatever you wish. And may I suggest take-outs for later, Kevin said!

The Chinese employee walked directly into the kitchen and spoke in Mandarin, as she advised an elderly man of Kevin’s presence. The old man immediately instructed his stew-chef ‘to take his place and prepare a special meal’, before he removed his apron and left the kitchen. There was another server collecting the orders, when the old man walked into the room.

How are you Mr. Wong, Kevin stated, after rising from his seat to greet the proprietor?

My dear boy, I am so happy to see you well, Mr. Wong exclaimed, as the two men embraced!

Please, come sit with us, Kevin invited?

The old man pulled a chair close to Kevin’s seat and spoke softly, as if he was telling a secret.

I have been impressed with you, since the day I heard my grandson, talking about you like, you were a superhero. You have brought a new era to this city, and you will never be forgotten for that! With our new-found freedom, there is talk about the forming of a Chinese Coalition, to police against these new threats, we are starting to face, Mr. Wong informed.

You will have my nomination for chief counsel Mr. Wong, Kevin stated softly!

I thank you, but I believe you should go into hiding, because there is word, that some experienced assassins, have been hired to kill everyone, who survived the island, and there is also a whisper, internationally there is much interest in you, Mr. Wong warned!

Any word on who hired them, Kevin enquired?

They hired by old rich typhoon, very powerful man! The man that stole your payment, and murdered the trafficking mules on train, is also said to be in his employment, Mr. Wong stated.

Plates containing a variety of foods were brought to the table and placed in the center, thus the starving gentlemen dived in like pigs. The waitress soon returned with a separate plate for Kevin, which was a Steamed Red Snapper Fish, with broccoli and other vegetables, served with White Rice. Kevin lifted the covering from the plate and, stared at the delectable fish ready for devouring, before he thanked his host for his generosity. The men ate their fill, while consuming the establishment’s finest Saki, before they kicked back and burped. Mr. Wong, who had returned to the kitchen to allow the men time to eat, returned after they had demolished their main course, and went back to conversing with Kevin.

There is three white men, seated by side tables, who have returned for their answer, regarding their proposal, to provide protection for restaurant. After decades being forced to pay, those ruthless Rough Riders, I refuse to return to those days, Mr. Wong said!

That’s exactly why we got rid of the bullies off the block! Don’t worry Mr. Wong, I’ll see to it they find somewhere else to solicit, Kevin assured, before rising from his seat and signaling his guards to remain.

After Kevin removed himself from the table, he walked out into the general dining area and directly over to the solicitors’ section. Since his arrest, Kevin’s face had been plastered across television sets from Montreal to Cairo; but the sacrifice some believed he made, was conceived as brutal savagery by others, who expressed their opinions that he should be imprisoned. The three men in question, were however unimpressed by Kevin’s actions, regardless of the fact, he paved the way for their illegal tactics to flourish.

With his handgun visible behind his Gucci leather belt, Kevin stood at the outer edge of the extortionists’ table and leaned forward while conversing.

You see the owner for this restaurant? He is a good friend of mine, and him just tell me that you boys a try run a extortion thing, off his sweat and hard work, Kevin exclaimed, while keenly observing the gang patch on the middleman’s leather vest!

What, you feel we’re intimidated because you got a gun on your waist? Man, we all got gu---, began the male to Kevin’s left!

Blap, sounded the slap across the man’s face, as Kevin withdrew his weapon and used it to strike the talker, which sent him tumbling backwards with the chair.

Neither of extortionist’s friends could arm themselves fast enough, before Kevin swung his weapon around in their faces to maintain the peace. The ruckus alerted the Special Forces guards, who were baffled to find their client subduing three individuals. The male to Kevin’s left was on the ground bleeding profusely, from an open gash across his nose, while his mates became more attentive to orders.

Drop your hands below your shoulders and you is a dead man, Kevin warned, which disturbed some customers, who demonstrated their concerns by either vacating the premises or ducked below their tables!

Although the subdued gangsters had their eyes plastered on Kevin’s revolving weapon, it was impossible to ignore the uniformed Canadian Forces specialists, who burst into the room like gang busters. With the intimidation factor increased due to the presence of his armed guards, Kevin stepped to each of his captives and disarmed them. Once he had gathered all their weapons, which he tucked in different areas along his waistline, Kevin instructed his guards to ‘go finish the Saki before it got cold’, as he was determined to handle the matter on his own.

Get your blood-clatt up off Mr. Wong’s floor, and stop blooding up the man’s shit, Kevin ordered, as he kicked the man on the floor on the leg! Now, everybody move to that back exit, so we can stop upset the man’s customers!

Kevin directed the men to the rear of the restaurant, while Mr. Wong and his servants apologized to their other customers, for the violent disruption. The gangsters were guided through the restaurant, which led to a dark and desolate alleyway. There was a party in progress on the third floor above the restaurant, where the music system’s volume elevated the instant the men exited the establishment. Although the men had absolutely nothing to do with the kidnapping of his son, Kevin pictured their faces orchestrating the abduction, before he opened fire.

Nothing personal fellows, it’s only business, Kevin exclaimed. The music managed to drown out the sounds of the loud bangs, although some neighbors heard the disturbance and began looking through their windows.

Mr. Wong was the first to greet Kevin, after he banged on the rear door to regain entry, following which two male employees rushed out to dispose of the bodies. The employees carried huge black garbage bags, which they used to wrap the corpses in, before they washed he entire area with a brush, hose and water. The Jamaican revolutionary gangster handed the murder weapon over to Mr. Wong, who gripped the weapon’s handle firmly, before he placed it inside a plastic bag.

You are going to do great things, Mr. Wong declared, as he took Kevin’s right hand into his, and kissed a huge gold ring, that was placed onto his middle finger. While Mr. Wong kissed the ring, two of Kevin’s guards emerged from the restroom and caught him in the act, yet the restaurant owner didn’t shy away from the gesture.

Part 3

Kadeem sat with a pair of Remington Nickel Plated 9mm pressed against his temples, as he slumped forward and thought about the promises he had made to his dearest friend. After a heart-wrenching conversation with his pregnant girlfriend, Kadeem felt compelled more than ever to find Kevin Junior, whom he had grown fond of. The outlaw had been released from confinement for nearly forty-eight hour, during which time he had killed one person and assaulted several others, while intently searching for Kevin Junior. Kadeem began visualizing moments he had spent playing with the young lad, before the abrupt stop of the vehicle, shook him back to reality.

Where we reach, Kadeem asked, as he stared through the windshield?

We’re on Decarie Expressway, the female driver exclaimed, while joking with her friend.

There were two other females riding in the front of the Chevy SUV, who supported Kadeem’s mission to find the missing child, which was an idea opposed by the rest of the crew. Once they returned to Chateauguay after they were released from jail, Kadeem decided to search wholeheartedly for young Junior, but Damian objectively provided the voice of dissent and argued, ‘they should get to the task of running the city’! Following Damian’s suggestion that, ‘they retrieved the hidden drugs and flood the market’, Kadeem who had always charted his own course, rose from their midst and went to take his leave. The actions of Kevin’s lieutenant angered Damian, who stated that, had it not been for his cousin, he would have put a bullet through Kadeem’s skull a long time ago! At the insolent young man’s comment, Kadeem turned around to face the power-craving thug, who reactively drew his weapon and held it in his hand.

Don’t talk ‘bout it my youth, shoot if you a shoot, Kadeem declared, while staring at the man who once sought to harm both he and his cousin!

Tank jumped from his seat and stepped between both men, as he attempted to fan the situation.

Yow, dun that argument, Nicholas didn’t leave us here to fight, reasoned Tank!

Fuck that! The batty boy relative a behave like is him get left in charge, you didn’t hear when mi cousin say, ‘a me must run the thing!’ A me a di boss, an anybody no like that a get gunshot, Damian threatened!

My youth, you can boss up anything you want, but right now me a go find Junior, and that is all I care about, Kadeem declared.

At the end of their heated exchange Kadeem left Chateauguay and had been on the warpath since. The search for Kevin’s son had brought him to sections of the city, where racial tensions due to the killings of the Rough Rider street rulers, were at an all-time high. Tavern Amsterdam, on the corner of Ontario Street and Pie-1X Boulevard, was the first establishment Kadeem visited for answers, regarding who kidnapped the little boy. The Tavern, which was owned by a retired gangster whose customers were primarily scum with criminal degrees, used to be a regular hangout for some of the deceased Rough Rider members. The argument throughout the entire bar revolved around what had been mentioned on TV, concerning the slaughter on Ile St. Helene, with every French Quebecer understandably enraged by what transpired. Many Quebecers felt insulted by the killers’ release and believed they should be locked away in a maximum-security penitentiary, thus they voiced their opinions over talk radio programs and to their elected officials, as they sought an inquiry into the entire matter. Each television set around the bar, which would typically be on some sort of sporting event, was tuned into the news with everyone consumed by the biker case. The judge who had granted release to the murderers, was said to have committed suicide in wake of the incident, hence, Quebecers became even more enraged at the suspected foul play involved.

Judge Antoine Bryere, who was a thirty-four-year veteran of the court, returned home to find numerous protestors blocking his entrance. Protestors shouted vile comments at the judge and egged his vehicle, as it slowly edged its way to his private gate. Once inside his house, the second-year widow unplugged his house phone and deactivated his cellular, to block out the rest of the world. Judge Bryere turned on his favorite Classical Music CD, poured himself a drink of Wild Turkey Bourbon, and lit up one of his Cuban cigars. The judge removed a photo of his wife from the mantle place, placed it on his office desk before him, and comfortably sat enjoying his liquor and cigar, while he starred at his deceased wife. Once he had finished his drink, the judge placed the burning cigar in the ashtray, then removed his personal firearm from the top drawer, placed it immediately to his right temple and shot himself.

***

The festive establishment quieted once patrons realized a colored individual had entered the facility, as Kadeem walked to the bar and sat by the right corner. Kadeem felt like he had stepped into shit before he entered, as everyone watched him walk to his seat and sat on the stool. The bartender ignored his presence, as he served customers at the other end of the bar, while Kadeem looked around the establishment for anyone adorning the Rough Riders’ biker colors. While surveying the bar’s customers, Kadeem looked at the television and realized the hostile environment he had walked into. The calm atmosphere instantly changed, as if the Gods of Bad Luck were against him, when the news highlight that returned from commercial break, featured him and the rest of his associates walking from the Palace Du Justice courthouse.

Bartender, bring me a Heineken, Kadeem shouted, as customers began cross-referencing his face to the person on the television set!

The bartender continued to ignore his request, as two intoxicated males across the room began walking towards him. Knowing there were no toilet access or exits behind him, Kadeem withdrew one of his pistols and placed it on the counter before him. At the sight of the weapon, both men stopped in their tracks, turned around and, walked directly toward and through the entrance door.

Bartender, I said bring me a Heineken now, Kadeem sternly insisted, as the server turned around and noticed the weapon atop the bar counter!

The bartender skipped across to Killa, as if he was on skates and offered service immediately with an apology. Once he had gotten served, Kadeem removed a photo of young Junior and himself from his wallet and presented it to the bartender, who insisted he had no idea where to find the missing boy. While Kadeem spoke with the bartender, the two intoxicated males who exited the tavern went to their vehicle and armed themselves, with a Smith and Weston 38 Special and a 9mm Beretta PX4 Sub-Compact handgun.

The females who accompanied Kadeem, yet remained in the vehicle, suspected nothing of the drunken men who went to arm themselves, until, they were about to reenter the establishment, and paused to remove their concealed weapons. Once the ladies recognized the play, Gwen the shotgun passenger, advised Joan to keep the engine running, as she loaded a bullet into the firing chamber of her 9mm Kimber Ultra Crimson Carry II, and walked briskly to the entrance of the bar. Joan fired up the vehicle’s engine and drove to the front door, where she removed the Uzi from the rear seat and held it on her lap.

The liquored-up Caucasians could barely shoot straight, when they returned into the bar targeting Killa. Kadeem found himself in a precarious position, as he ducked behind the counter with both his weapons at hand, while the intoxicated males shouted profanity and boasted about what they were about to do to him. The intoxicated Quebecers’ return caught Kadeem off guard, as they rushed in and callously fired off three shots in his direction, before one of the guys branched off to a different section of the bar. Every customer was by then underneath a table or cringed up in some corner, as Kadeem peeked out from behind the counter to locate his antagonists’ positions. With the bar filled with customers, Kadeem could by no means conceive a pleasant ending, as his tormentors positioned themselves to avenge their idolized bikers.

Gwen was poised to enter the facility, when the first three shots rang out, at which she bent lower to the ground and waited, before cautiously opening the door. The first of the two gunners was shielding himself between the entrance doors, when Gwen crept up behind the man and, pointed her weapon directly to the back of his head. Following a slight nudge with her weapon to gain his attention, Gwen threatened the drunken aggressor. Drop the rass gun and tell your friend, he has three seconds to drop his, before I put a hole right through your melon!

At the realization that there was an armed female behind him, the man dropped the weapon as if it was burning his hand, before he began pleading with his brethren to do the same.

Albert, there is a woman with her gun next to my head, and it would help me if you put down your gun, the man asked in French?

Albert who was busy talking shit to Kadeem, froze in midsentence, and looked at his friend’s positioning for confirmation. The female who stood with the weapon’s hammer cocked and ready to blast, began counting to three, when she realized that the partner was somewhat hesitant.

One, yelled the female, before a brief pause!

Two, she then shouted!

Albert please, barked the captive!

Ok, OK, I give up, Albert declared in his mother tongue, as he tossed his gun to the floor and arose with both hands held high.

Kadeem stood up from behind the counter with a huge sigh of relief, as he winked at Gwen before he marched over to the subdued