His Revenge Was Sweeter Than Honey: And Other Short Stories

By Dahn Batchelor

This book of short stories has 20 stories in it and each story is vastly different than the others. Some of the stories refer to actual events that have occurred in history with fi ctional
characters in the stories. Other stories raise moral issues and others still are adventure and mystery stories. Many of them have incredibly interesting endings that will tantalize the reader.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483652818

Dahn Batchelor

About the Author coming soon...

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Dahn Batchelor.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 08/20/2013

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CONTENTS

HIS REVENGE WAS SWEETER THAN HONEY

REQUIEM FOR A MUTE BELL RINGER

THE IMAGE

THE MYSTERIOUS BOY

THE THIRD STRIKE

LIVING WITH AN OLD MAN

BOOMERANG

THE MEDICINE MAN

REFORMATION

THE MAN WHO WENT INTO HIS LAND OF DREAMS

THE TRIPLE AGENT

RETRIBUTION AND JUSTICE BRINGS PEACE

CHOOSING A FUNERAL HOME

WHEN YOU ARE DRUNK

WHERE IS MIKEY?

A BISHOP IN TRANSITION

REVENGE OF THE NERDS

THE COMPANION

WILL THE REAL SANTA CLAUS STAND UP?

THE HOAX

WHERE DID THE SCHOOL BULLY DISAPPEAR TO?

His revenge was sweeter than honey

Allan Mitchell and his wife Julie both worked for the Central Intelligence Agency in Langley, Maryland from 1951 through 1988. She was later his secretary before they both retired at the same time.

The department they worked in was the Analysis and Production Department of the Office of Terrorism Analysis which supports the National Counterterrorism Center in the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. Allan was the assistant director of the Office of Terrorism Analysis and Support staff.

A month after they retired, they were married. He then began working at his previous work before he joined the CIA. He was an investment counselor.

The following year, Julie gave birth to their only child, Sylvia. The three of them later moved to the City of Sacramento, California where they lived in a four-bedroom, two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac in the Eldorado Hills neighbourhood section in the eastern part of the city.

By 2010, Sylvia was twenty-one years old, her mother was fifty four and Alan was fifty-eight. For a man his age, he was in extremely good shape and he kept that way by working out at a gym where he also taught judo.

One day in the first week of July 2010, Sylvia received a written invitation from Maria Sanches, a Mexican girlfriend she knew in college who had later moved back to her home in Torreon, Mexico. The invitation was for Sylvia to spend a week with her.

Allan and Julie were not happy about their daughter going to northern Mexico even for just a week. They were concerned about the danger their daughter would be in. Because of their previous work with the CIA, they were aware of the ongoing war between the Sinaloa Cartel and its rival, the Gulf Cartel over the distribution of cannabis and methamphetamine to the United States via the coveted southwest Texas Corridor. They knew that even innocent people in Mexico were being massacred along side the members of the drug cartels as they fought their daily wars.

Alan and Julie discussed their concerns with their daughter. Sylvia responded by saying, I am only going to be there for a week.

Alan said in response, On May, 15th, gunmen killed nine people at the Juanas Bar in the city. In that particular weekend, a total of twenty-one people were shot and killed in organized crime style executions in Torreon. Later in that month a television station and the offices of a local newspaper came under fire. A pregnant woman was wounded in the attack on the offices of Noticias de El Sol de la Laguna

Julie added to the conversation, If they would kill people in a bar, what is to stop them from killing people in a hotel like what happened in Mumbai, India?

Sylvia said in response, I am not going to be in a bar or a hotel. I am going to be staying at my friend’s house. I will tell her that I don’t want to go into a bar.

Despite their warnings, Sylvia was determined to accept the invitation but promised her parents that she would call them if she thought that anything seemed out of place. She also told her parents that she would catch the plane out of Torreon on Monday, the 19th of the month and return home.

When she arrived in Torreon, she took a taxi to her friend’s family home which is located in the San Luis neighbourhood area of the city. A few days later her friend was invited by a former boyfriend of hers called Mott to attend a birthday party in his honour at the La Quinta Italia Villa in Torreon.

Mott told her that his birthday party would be held in the evening of May 18th and continue until the morning of Sunday, the 19th. He told Maria that she could bring another friend with her to the party.

On Saturday evening, when Silvia and Maria arrived at the intersection of Iglesia and Francisco Diaz, the driver pulled up at the La Quinta Italia Inn. The La Quinta Italia Inn is actually a villa with gardens and a pool that is rented out for fiestas and special events such as dances and birthday parties including the one given for Mott. By the time they arrived at the pool were the party was being held for her friend’s birthday, the rest of the invitees were already there. It was a fairly big party since 35 attended. Their ages ranged from 17 to 30.

Silvia asked her friend and Mott and some of the other attendees to pose with her so that a picture could be taken of them on her cell phone. She then sent the picture to her parents with the texted message that said, I am the one in the back row, the one on the right and my friend Maria is to my right and the young man at the end is the birthday boy whose birthday we are celebrating at the La Quintas Italia Villa.

As she was just sending the message and the photo to her parents who were asleep at that time, unbeknown to her and the others at the birthday party, a convoy of six pickups driven by members of the Sinaloa cartel with three armed members as passengers in each vehicle was being driven on Francisco Diaz towards the Villa.

They pulled up at the entrance of the villa and headed towards the pool area.

As the celebrants were dancing to the music, two armed men stood at the two entrances to the pool and seconds later, Sylvia looked up and saw the two other armed men walking towards her and the others who were dancing. One of them yelled, Kill them all!

As Sylvia pulled away from her dancing partner, she ran towards the wall closest to the pool and when she looked back towards the armed men, she saw flashes of light from the muzzles of their guns and then heard the loud explosions as the bullets began spraying the pool area. Both men and women were falling down and as she put her hand in front of her face, a bullet struck her in her chest. As she began to fall, a second bullet hit her in her mouth and tore some of her jaw away. She was dead before she fell to the floor, lying on her left side close to her dancing partner who had fallen to the floor seconds before she did.

By the time the armed men had finished shooting everyone in the area of the pool, seventeen had died and eighteen were seriously wounded.

The next morning at seven, Alan heard his land phone ring. It was a call from one of his neighbours. Alan the neighbour said as Alan picked up the phone. Did your daughter go to Torreon as she had planned?

"Yes, she did. Why do you ask?

Because I heard on the news that there was a slaughter of innocent partygoers in that city who were killed by armed members of one of the drug cartels that occurred around one in the morning.

Suddenly Alan felt faint. He told his neighbour that he would call him back. He hung up the phone and then grabbed the cell phone on his night table and noticed that a message had been left for him. He picked it up and pressed the necessary buttons to hear the message. He saw the picture of his daughter and her friends and then read the text message. He dropped the phone to the floor which woke up his wife.

What’s wrong dear?

Alan didn’t turn to face her lest the expression on his face alarmed her and instead he said, I am just going to my study to make some calls, my dear. Just go back to sleep.

When he was sitting at his desk in his study, he phoned one of his close friends who was still working at the CIA station in Mexico City as a case officer. Jerry, it’s Alan on the phone.

Hi, Alan. How is retirement?

Jerry. I am going to get directly as to why I have called you. There has been a mass killing of innocent persons in Torreon. My daughter is in Torreon visiting a college friend and last night she was attending a birthday party at the La Quintas Italia Villa in Torreon. Can you find out if the CIA has any information about that killing? Did it take place at that villa?

Jerry responded, I will make the call right now, Are you at home?

Yes I am.

Stay there and I will call you right back as soon as I find out.

Half an hour later, Jerry called back. Allan. I am very sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but the shooting of the people in Torreon was at that villa.

Do you have the names of the people who were killed?

Jerry paused for a moment and then said, Yes Alan, I do have the names. I am very sorry. Your daughter was one of the seventeen victims who were killed.

Alan held the phone close to his ear so that his wife who had approached him wouldn’t hear what Jerry had just told him. He knew that he would have to tell her the news before she heard about it on the television.

Dear. Let’s go upstairs to our bedroom. There is something I have to tell you.

When they were in their bedroom, Alan sat her down on the edge of the bed and then said, Julie. I have just heard some terrible news.

Julie suspected the worst because she could see from her husband’s face that tears were flowing from his eyes."

Oh, no. she cried out.

Alan told her what he had been told and then he embraced her.

An hour later he was on the phone making arrangements to fly to Mexico City and from there, another plane would take him to the small airport in Torreon. The next day, he arrived in Mexico City and met with Jerry at the CIA office.

Jerry. Do you have any friends in the police in Torreon?

Yes, I do but I would rather connect you with a friend in the Coahuila State Attorney General’s Office. It is they who are conducting the investigation of this mass murder that took place in the party that your daughter attended.

Two hours later, Alan and Jerry were on a plane flying to Torreon and three quarters of an hour later, they were in the office of Jerry’s friend, Roul Chevez.

When Alan told Roul that one of the victims was his daughter, Roul reached into one of the drawers in his desk for a large folder. He pulled it out and placed it on his desk.

Mister Mitchell. I have the photographs of the victims as they lay where they died. I should suggest that you not look at the actual body of your daughter as it will be too traumatic for you and the sight of her disfigurement will haunt you for the rest of your life. Nevertheless, I am going to show you the picture of her because I need you to identify her for me. Are you ready to look at the picture?

Alan nodded affirmatively and then the picture was handed to him. As he stared at it, tears rolled down his eyes and then his face grimaced to one of utter anger.

"Have you got the bastards that committed this crime?’

Yes. We have. replied Roul."

What cartel are they from?

The killers were members of the Sinaloa Cartel.

Where are they now?

Back in prison.

Alan suddenly sat up straight and asked, "Back in prison? What were they doing out of prison?

Raul paused and the said, We have learned that the warden ordered several of her guards to release some of the prisoners from their cells who were members of the Sinaloa Cartel so that they could go into the city to kill who they believed were members of the Los Zetas Cartel.

Alan spoke angrily, My daughter was not a member of any drug cartel. She was attending a birthday party with her friend.

Yes, we are aware of that. We have heard rumours that the reason why the murderers attacked those at the party at the villa was because the owners of the Italia Inn have links to Los Zetas and the attackers were members of the rival organized criminal group, the Sinaloa cartel. They killed those at the party to get a message across to anyone who supports the Los Zetas cartel, that no one can escape their wrath.

Alan turned to Jerry and whispered, No one will escape my wrath.

He then asked Raol to make arrangements for the police to release the body of his daughter and permit it to be flown to Sacramento where it would be cremated after the funeral.

Alan looked at Raol and asked angrily, Where are the warden and the guards now?

They are being investigated and are currently removed from the prison.

Are they in custody?

Not at present but they have been told that they cannot leave Torreon.

Alan thanked Raol and after flying back to Mexico City with Jerry, he said to him at the airport while waiting for a flight back to Sacramento, I need you to find out where the warden and the guards are living?

Are you planning to do what I think you’re are planning to do?

Alan replied, What would to do if you were in my place?

Exactly what you are going to do.

Alan sneered, "Those bastards wouldn’t have killed my daughter and the others if that bloody warden and her guards hadn’t released the killers from their cells. I am sure the Mexican government will deal harshly with the killers but since I can’t get at them since they are locked up, I can take out my revenge on the warden and her guards.

When will you return?

About a month after my daughter’s funeral.

Is there anything you need?

Alan smiled and said, A Glock and forty shells and some Semtax explosives. I need at least ten pounds of it to be left for me in Mexico City.

I will see to it. said Jerry.

When Alan returned to Sacramento, he spoke to his wife. My dear. I have seen a picture of Sylvia’s body and I have arranged for a closed casket funeral.

"Why can’t I look at her one last time?

Just looking at the photograph of her disfigured face where she was shot, will haunt me for the rest of my life. If you saw her face up close, it would haunt you also. I am sparing you this horror so that you can remember what she looked like when we last saw her the day she left for Mexico.

Julie hugged her husband and said, I am sorry that you had to see her in the picture.

I had to my dear as I had to identify her so that she could be returned to us.

Alan paused for a few minutes and then said to his wife very quietly, Julie. I will be returning to Torreon in two weeks to wreak my vengeance on those who are responsible for her death.

Can’t you live without having to do it?

No, my dear. Unless I do it, her death will be on my mind for the rest of my life. I will be unbearable to live with while I have such hatred in my mind.

Julie was a woman of the world. She was well aware of the needless deaths committed by murderers and how the families were destroyed as a result of the deaths of their loved ones. She smiled at Alan, Do what you have to do, Alan but please be careful.

Alan kissed her and then said, There is something else I must tell you. He paused and then said, "It’s possible that my role in their killing will be known so both of us will have to hide from both the drug cartel and the authorities. I have a plan that will make this possible.

What is your plan?

As soon as I have finalized it, I will inform you. Now, my dear, let’s get dressed. We have a funeral to attend."

Two weeks later, just before he caught the plane that would take him to Mexico City, he confided in his wife what his plan was with respect to him and his wife completely disappearing for ever from those who would be searching for them."

She smiled at him and nodded as if to say that she approved of his plan.

The next day he was in the office of the CIA station in Mexico City. Then he and Jerry walked across the street and a few minutes they were sitting alone on a park bench.

Do you have what I need?

The items are all in my home. You can pick them up when you need them.

Jerry. There is something else I need from you. He paused and then said, I need two new passports, one for me and one for my wife. I have the appropriate photos for the passports. I also need a driver’s licence and credit cards in my name that will be assigned to me. Also, I will take out my money from my bank and then deposit it in another bank where the account will be in my new name.

I hope you have enough money stashed away to cover your expenses.

I made some very good investments and have ten million dollars in my bank account. That will keep us in good financial shape for the rest of our lives.

Will I ever see you again?

Possibly but when you do, I will make sure that you don’t know exactly where I and my wife will be living. I will pick you up and in the middle of the night, I will drive you to our new home. That way you can’t be forced to tell anyone where we will be living for the rest of our lives.

With that having been said, they both shook hands and agreed to meet at his home later in the evening for Alan to pick up the Glock, shells and explosives and an activation device to set off the explosives.

At six in the evening, Alan arrived at Jerry’s home in Las Lomas, a neighborhood that rises on the western slope of Mexico City, a community with wide, tree-lined streets, luxury apartments and mansions behind tall walls. He was introduced to Edwardo Morales, a resident of Torreon who was familiar with the cartels in Torreon. He was a man in his early fifties and a retired investigator with the Mexican Federal Police.

He said to Alan, I know who the guards are that released the killers that shot your daughter to death, Senior Mitchell.

Very good, Senior Morales. It is those who must pay for the murder of my daughter.

And the criminals that killed your daughter, Senior?

I will wait and see how your justice system deals with them. If they are convicted and sentenced to prison for the rest of their lives, I will be more than satisfied.

Alan and Edwardo took a plane from Mexico City to Torreon and booked in two rooms at the Crowne Plaza Hotel after renting a car at the Francisco Sarabia International Airport on the outskirts of Torreon.

The next morning, Edwardo took Alan to a street and to the bar where the guards hung out every night. It was Saturday. When they arrived in the afternoon, Alan noticed that the street was crowded. He turned to Edwardo and said, If I blow them up at night, too many innocent people will die.

That’s true, Senior Mitchell but if you blow them up on a Sunday after seven, there won’t be anybody on the street.

But, asked Alan, what’s the point of blowing up the bar on a Sunday evening? Isn’t it closed then?

To the public, Senior but not to the guards and some of their cartel friends. The bar becomes their personal private club on Sunday nights.

Then we will blow them up Sunday at seven.

But how, Senior Mitchell?

Alan looked at Edwardo and then smiled, Do you know anyone who is a good car thief?

Edwardo smiled and said, What kind of car would you like me to steal for you, Senior?

Preferably an old one. Why blow up a good car?

I have just the right car for you to blow up. It belongs to my brother. He always leaves the key to the car in the ignition when he goes shopping.

But won’t he be angry when he discovers that you have stolen his car?

Senior. Do you think I am so stupid that I would steal his car when he is standing beside it Besides, he will be pleased. It is insured and he will get a better car with the insurance money when he makes his claim."

Alan smiled and then said, We will have to load the explosives and gasoline bottles in the trunk of the car somewhere where no one will see us putting the explosives and bottles in the trunk.

I know of just the right place. Let us go to my brother’s house and wait for him to do his shopping and then after I have stolen his car, you can follow me in this rental.

Alan said, Good. When we have placed the explosives and containers of gasoline in the trunk of the car and we arrive at the bar, I will set the sensitive switch. Then I will stand about a block away and watch the fireworks.

It was six in the evening when Alan and Edwardo drove up to the bar and parked the car at the entrance of the bar. He then set the sensitive switch. If his plan worked, the men in the bar would leave the bar and begin trashing his car. Once they begin striking it with the heavy pipe he would purposely leave on the sidewalk near the passenger door; the car would explode. If it didn’t, it would if they tried to tip it over. Alan hoped that by then he would reach his rental that was a block from the bar when that happened. He then walked into the small two-story building to get a look at the men he was going to kill.

He no sooner got into the bar when the bartender hollered out, Salga! Esto es una reunión privada.

Alan’s Spanish was fairly good so he understood that the bartender was telling him to get out as it was a private gathering only in the bar.

He walked as if he was drunk and staggered a bit as he wandered about the tavern where the men were playing pool or sitting at tables. There were several women also in the bar who Alan presumed were girlfriends of the guards and also the warden of the prison. Alan made a point of looking at the faces of all of the men in the bar to see if he recognized any of them from the pictures shown to him by Edwardo earlier.

He studied each of the faces of the nine guards that had been arrested and brought out of the court after their bail was set. Edwardo was also able to get copies of the individual arrest photos of the nine guards along with the court photo so that Alan could study their faces in detail.

The bartender headed towards Alan but by then he had recognized all nine faces of the guards from the photos shown to him by Edwardo. As he headed towards the door, he turned and faced them and said in a loud threatening voice.

This message is to the prison guards. Enjoy your drinks, gentlemen. It will probably be your last ones.

One of guards asked angrily in English, What do you mean, our last ones, Gringo?

Alan smiled and said, I am going to get into my car and drive it to the nearest police station and inform them that there is illegal drug transactions going on in this bar. So drink up, gentlemen because when the police get here, your drinking will be over.

Suddenly the guards scrambled out of their chairs at the same time and began running towards Alan. He managed to get out of the door before they reached it and he then ran to the passenger side of the car in front of the bar and pretended that he was fumbling for the key. As they closed in on him, he purposely ran down the street towards his rental in which Edwardo was sitting in the driver’s seat. One of the men began following him while another of the men picked up an iron pipe he found near the door and began smashing the windows of the car.

Alan pulled out his Glock pistol and aimed it at the man who was catching up to him. He then turned and yelled at him. Unless you want me to shoot you in the face, go back to your friends.

The man replied, And when I get there, I will smash your car to pieces.

Alan smiled and said, Whatever.

The man had no idea what Alan meant by that word but he turned and ran towards the car and yelled to one of the other men wielding the pipe, Let me have that pipe. By the time I am finished with his car, no one will ever drive it again.

After Alan reached his rental, he yelled to the men trying to smash the car. No matter what you do to my car, I can still drive it home.

He hoped that they would react the way he planned it. They did. The men got on one side of the car and began rocking it with the intention of tipping it over on its side.

That was all that was needed to activate the sensitive switch. The explosion was enormous. The car was enveloped in flames. It also gutted the bar and the offices across the street.

Alan began to muse to himself as he watched the men being burned to death. ‘Sylvia. I have avenged your death.’

Alan then said, Edwardo. I think we have seen enough.

Edwardo smiled and said, Absolutely, Senior. He then turned on the engine and did a U-turn and they headed