Melissa King: Resurrection

By Robert Finkelsen

Melissa King’s long forgotten nemesis from her early days at the Network in Los Angelas returns to enact his revenge on Melissa King. She was not only suffering from the loss of the one she loved; Kevin McQuaid, but she was once again chased to the brink of death. Her friends in the FBI worked tirelessly trying to save her from certain death.



Read about Melissa Kings previous adventures.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781663238894

Robert Finkelsen

Robert was born in West Orange NJ and is a retired Electrical Engineer. He is living with his current wife on the west coast of Florida spending time writing, fishing and amature radio.

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Copyright © 2022 Robert Finkelsen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

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any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

All characters and events are fictional any similarities are purely coincidental.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-3888-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-3889-4 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 04/25/2022

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1     Peter Manson

Chapter 2     Melissa King

Chapter 3     Jack Winston

Chapter 4     Dean Hartman

Chapter 5     Jack Winston

Chapter 6     Melissa King

Chapter 7     Peter Manson

Chapter 8     Jack Winston

Chapter 9     Melissa King

Chapter 10   Peter Manson

Chapter 11   Melissa King

Chapter 12   Kevin McQuaid

Chapter 13   Dean Hartman

Chapter 14   Melissa King

Chapter 15   Captain Dean Hartman

Chapter 16   Dave Williams

Chapter 17   Kevin McQuaid

Chapter 18   Melissa King

Chapter 19   Jack Winston

Chapter 20   Paul Brady

Chapter 21   Peter Manson

Chapter 22   Agent Jack Winston

Chapter 23   Melissa

Chapter 24   Operation Retribution

Chapter 25   Melissa King

Dedicated to:

Arnold Finkelsen; June 1917 – February 2001

Emmy Finkelsen; May 1921 – December 2014

Acknowledgments

My daughter, Chelsea Leard for the cover art work for Melissa King: Resurrection. Ann Finkelsen for helping with the story and proof reading. I would also like to acknowledge all those that read the first two Melissa King novels. This encouraged me to write the 3rd and final episode of the Melissa King series.

Chapter One

Peter Manson

Peter Johnson left his office as he put on his suit jacket and walked to his secretary’s desk, Jan, I’m leaving for the day.

Jan noticed that it was just three o’clock, so you’re leaving early today?

Yes, it was a busy day today, Peter replied.

Peter was 5 foot 10 inches tall, black hair with a touch of grey, medium build and he appeared to keep himself in decent shape. His eyes were dark brown almost black and looked like cold dark bits of coal. His eyes always gave Jan a chill that ran up her spine; there was something evil about that man, she thought. He always kept his personal life to himself and he never talked about his work, in fact she had no idea what he did. He had meetings a couple of times a week and took many calls from Colonel Moorehouse.

Peter pressed the button to call the elevator; his office was on the fourth floor while his LAB was in the basement. He thought about the work he did today in the LAB. His mind reviewed every detail of the nearly five hours that he tortured Kevin McQuaid. He wanted to know who the FBI agent was that was investigating Noah’s Ark. He also wanted to know where Melissa King was, since he had a score to settle with her. With Kevin suspended from the ceiling, he whipped him for nearly an hour straight until the floor was slippery from the blood; he had him taken back to his cell so that the orderly could clean up the mess. When they brought Kevin back, he was drifting in and out of consciousness while they bound him naked to a hard wooden table. A female orderly came in with a pail of cool water and bathed him with a wash cloth that stung as she wiped the dry blood off his wounds. Shortly after the orderly left, Peter came in and Kevin felt like this would be his end and he accepted death; he even began to long for it.

Do you have anything to tell me? Peter asked.

Kevin’s mind raced trying to remember where he may have heard that voice, it sounded so familiar. His mind was in a fog and he just could not recall.

Go to hell, Kevin whispered.

And you’ll be there with me, Peter said as he picked up a hard wooden club.

Peter reminisced of how Kevin’s ribs cracked as the club crashed down on Kevin’s prone body. The loudest crack came from Kevin’s leg when Peter put all his strength in it and aimed for Kevin’s thigh.

Peter enjoyed his work; every torture was his master piece. He preferred to torture women as they were tougher than men and they usually lived through more torture. Peter loved the female body and he would spend a lot of time feeling and caressing his female subjects. Then he would study his female subject’s naked body before he started to torture them and imagined where the burns, cuts and scars would be. He often felt like a tattoo artist where each body art was unique.

Soon the elevator door opened with a ding. Peter entered the elevator and pressed the button for the 1st floor and Peter was feeling aroused, he needed a release and he knew just where to go. He walked across Front Street to the parking garage and took the stairs up to the 2nd level to where his car was.

Peter drove a few miles and pulled into the parking lot of the Déjà vu gentlemen’s club where there was a special dancer named Gina, whom he took a fancy to. Her stage name was Saber which sounded dangerous and that greatly intrigued him. He had taken her to a nearby hotel several times and sex was always an intense workout. She loved rough sex and she could dish out as much as she could take. Each time they were together it became kinkier and more dangerous and sometimes they would go at it all night into the late morning. Peter got out of the car, looked at his watch, four o’clock and Gina should be doing her last dance in an hour. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dark room as he entered the front door. He looked up at the main stage where a thin blond woman with small breasts was dancing and she had just taken off the last of her clothes. The place was not very busy, just a few businessmen sitting at a nearby table and two men sitting in chairs in front of the stage. Peter took a seat on the left side of the stage where there were eight empty seats. The dancer took notice of Peter and seductively moved up close to him. Peter could smell her cheap perfume as he studied her naked body. Her breasts were small, but her nipples were large and erect; almost a half inch long.

Hi my name is Christy, she said as she laid on her back on the stage floor in front of Peter just a couple of feet away, giving Peter a close-up view of her private parts. Her legs were spread and seductively undulated back and forth to the beat of the music.

Hi I’m Peter, he said as he took a five-dollar bill out of his pocket.

I know. Gina said you would be here, replied Christy.

Peter put the bill in his left hand, Christy moved even closer and with his right hand he caressed her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples.

Yes, they are real, Peter said as he moved his hand down past her flat belly noticing her well defined abs.

He reached between her legs and felt the wetness as she was aroused from being naked on stage. With his left hand he pressed the bill to her chest between Christy’s breasts while she pushed them together to grasp the bill. Her breasts were just large enough to close in on the five-dollar bill and pull it out of Peter’s hand.

I must take her to the hotel the next time I’m here, Peter thought as Christy finished her set; she picked up her skimpy clothes from the floor along with a small pile of cash.

Next up is Gina… The DJ said from his booth at the back of the room.

Gina came out on stage wearing a see-through baby doll nightie and a small thong. Her natural, medium sized breasts were clearly visible through the thin sheer fabric. Her breasts were perfectly shaped, round and firm with large dark nipples that pointed straight out from her body. Her long dark hair flowed part way down her back and her belly was flat and firm, but not muscular like Christy’s. She stood about five foot six with nice legs and a small ass. Her light brown eyes sparkled with fire as she seductively danced close to the two men at the front of the stage and they each put cash in her G string. Peter studied her body as she danced seductively in front of them, while squeezing her breasts, she took the money from her G string, walked to the back of the stage and dumped it on the floor. The dancers would usually wait until they collected a pile of money before they would start to take their costumes off. She danced just in front of Peter as he took out a twenty-dollar bill. She lifted her nightie exposing her bare breasts and Peter could see some welts on her breast’s leftover from their last session. He reached up with the twenty and caressed her breasts as she squeezed them together to take hold of the crisp bill.

So, are you going to take me to the VIP room for a lap dance before we leave? Gina asked.

I plan too. Do they still have a camera in there? Just make sure they turn it off, Peter replied with a thin smile.

*     *     *

Gina went to the front desk in the hotel lobby while Peter sat at the far end of the lounge watching TV. He included the cost of the hotel room in the money he gave her for their session and he carried a small duffle bag with the erotic tools that he planned to use on Gina. Perhaps I’ll take this a step further this time, Peter thought as he studied Gina’s body while she stood at the front desk. Peter slipped behind Gina as she pressed the button to call the elevator.

Did you get a room on the top floor? Peter asked as they stepped into the elevator.

Yes room 512, Gina replied as the door closed.

She reached for Peter’s crotch and squeezed real hard causing pain to shoot through his loins. This fueled his frustrations and he began to think about the revenge he would take on Melissa King. He was agitated that Kevin wouldn’t tell him where she was. He got very close to her over a year ago, but his plan was foiled so he had to use a new identity and slip away. She had some very powerful people for protection, but soon she will be all his.

Just as Gina opened the room door, Peter shoved her in and she fell to the floor.

Strip and lay on the bed. Now! Peter said, as his eyes narrowed.

Yes master, and she did as she was told.

Peter secured Gina to the bed posts on her belly, with her legs and arms spread and she was totally helpless. Thoughts of Melissa rushed through Peters head as he began the session at a much higher level than the previous session and even Gina began to fear for her life as the session went on. Hours went by slowly through the night as Peter pleasured himself with Gina more than five times before he fell asleep next to her.

Peter woke to streams of sunlight filtering around the thick curtains in the hotel room. He was in a thick haze from the night of pleasure and the pain he inflicted on his subject. He looked over to Gina’s lifeless body; he felt ashamed that he had to terminate this woman who had such a lovely body. His rage for Melissa pushed him over the edge and at some point, he felt as though Gina was Melissa. He looked at the murder weapon; a thin leather strap tightly wrapped around her neck. Slowly and deliberately, Peter removed the bindings around Gina’s wrists and ankles. After he put on vinyl gloves, he lifted Gina’s body, rolled it over and secured the long end of the leather strap to the top of the bed post. He went to his duffle bag and retrieved a thick black plastic vibrator and turned it on. He then picked up her hand and wrapped her fingers around the vibrator before he proceeded to insert it. He spent an hour removing all traces of him, and packed his duffle bag. He looked back to the bed where Gina was laying and surveyed the scene, thinking the police will believe it was self-inflicted.

Peter looked at his watch as he got to his car, it’s past ten o’clock. I’m real late for work, Peter mumbled as he fumbled with his car keys.

He stopped at his large house for a shower, shave and to put on some new clothes. He figured he would get to work just past noon and he would have plenty of time with Kevin, even though he got all he could out of him. Perhaps he would finish Kevin off and send his body to the morgue down the hall this evening. Peter Manson thought as he turned down the street next to the hospital where he noticed smoke and the sounds of explosions inside the building. He turned into the parking garage and drove up to the top level to get a better view. As the smoke billowed out of the building, he heard a series of explosions that shook the parking deck below his feet. Peter ducked under the cement railing just as the hospital began to collapse and crumble to the ground.

Chapter Two

Melissa King

Melissa sat at her desk in her corner office that was reserved for the higher ups because she was the anchor woman for the morning and the 12 o’clock news at the Network. It was a great job where she would work from 5:30 in the morning to 2:30, Monday through Friday so she had weekends off. Well, at least most of the time. She left the investigative reporting, but she sort of missed it, even though it nearly took her life. She missed Kevin McQuaid and often wished she could go back in time to change the past. She thought about her mom and how old and frail she had become. While she was in hiding from Noah’s Ark agents, her mom thought she was dead. That was until she received Melissa’s letters and Melissa knew it took a huge toll on her mom where it nearly pushed her over the edge. Her mom still lived in Massachusetts, but moved out of the house after dad died to live in a 50 plus apartment complex near route 495 in Boxborough. I have to go out to visit her sometime soon, Melissa thought. The weekly phone calls just weren’t enough to take the place of going home to visit.

Melissa cleared her desk and stacked a group of papers neatly in numerical order for her next morning news program. She logged out of her laptop computer and turned off her desk light. It was Friday afternoon and she was about to drive up to San Francisco to spend the weekend with her friend Chelsea. Chelsea was her best friend; she had known her since her first day at college in western Massachusetts during orientation day. They didn’t know that they would end up being roommates, but they hit it off at hello. Chelsea studied law while Melissa studied journalism and it was funny how things worked out. Melissa took a job in Los Angeles and Chelsea started a job at a law firm in San Francisco. While LA and San Francisco were not real close, they were close enough where they could drive to visit each other. It was a bit of a long drive (best time was 6 hours), but doable. Melissa hoped she picked the right outfit for the event Saturday evening that Chelsea’s law firm was sponsoring. There were going to be politicians and celebrities in attendance. Melissa was hoping that Dave Williams, Chelsea’s coworker would be there. Melissa met him a few times in Los Angeles when he and Chelsea were there on business. At first, she thought Chelsea and he were together, but Chelsea had another love interest. He sort of reminded her of Kevin, but Melissa was not quite ready to move on since Melissa knew in her heart Kevin was alive somewhere. The toy ring she found on his gravestone was not a spiritual message from Kevin, nor was it a coincidence. It was a message telling her that he was still alive and Melissa figured he was under witness protection. Kevin also left another message, but it was damaged and unrecognizable; somehow it was telling her where he was. She tucked it away in a safe place so she could work on it and possibly piece it together like a puzzle.

Melissa got up from her desk and surveyed her corner office with windows on two sides; one to the east and the other to the north, then she quietly opened her office door and stepped out.

Hope you have a nice weekend Mary, Melissa said to her secretary.

Thanks, Mary looked up from her computer. Are you going to visit Chelsea this weekend?

Yup. My car is all packed and ready to go, Melissa replied with a smile.

Good. Say hello to Chelsea for me, Mary said as she turned back to her computer.

Melissa rode the elevator to the parking garage below the Networks building and walked to her car as she pressed the key fob to unlock the door, followed by a chirp.

*     *     *

The drive to Chelsea’s house felt much shorter than usual as Melissa pulled into the driveway and up to the gate with the letters CN on it that stood for Chelsea Nilsen. Near the front of the house, it turned into a circular driveway. Chelsea’s two-story house was large, over 3,000 square feet, all brick, with 4 bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms. It was much larger than Melissa’s townhouse that was only a block from the ocean. Chelsea’s house sat on two acres of land with lots of trees, bushes and assorted flowers. The lawn was deep green with no weeds and very nicely manicured. In the front yard along the road was a 5foot-high stone wall with a wrought iron fence on top with sharp spikes. The rest of the yard was surrounded by a beautiful white stockade fence. Melissa never asked how much it cost. It was about 25 miles southeast of San Francisco in a very desirable, upscale neighborhood. She knew Chelsea earned a lot of money as a lawyer because she had become an associate partner in the firm a few years ago. Melissa entered the code that Chelsea sent to her earlier into the key pad. As the automatic gate slowly opened with a slight hum, the lights along either side of the driveway lit up like runway lights. Chelsea had an extensive security system and she would change the gate code often. All she needed now is armed guards and a guardhouse Mellissa thought as she drove through the gate.

Melissa parked her car in front of the garage which was on the right side of the house where the driveway extended from the circle towards the garage. The garage seemed bigger than Melissa’s townhouse and was a separate brick building connected by an enclosed breezeway with arched windows. Melissa opened the trunk to retrieve her suitcase while Chelsea waited at the front door. The sides of the front porch were made of brick, the steps and porch floor were made of blue and brown slate and there were two large columns holding up the porch roof. Centered, was a large oak door with wrought iron hinges and hardware, and it looked like it came from an old English castle.

You made good time getting here, Chelsea said as she put her arms around Melissa and gave a strong hug.

I left the office around 1:00 and it’s only 7:30, Melissa said while holding on to her suitcase awkwardly.

Just in time for dinner, Chelsea said while holding the door open. You have the usual room. Put your luggage up there and freshen up. Dinner will be ready in about 20 minutes.

The inside of the house was as stately as the outside. The foyer was as big as Melissa’s living room. To the right was a beautiful curved staircase with mahogany banisters and stairs. There was a carpet runner down the center that left a good portion of the gorgeous wood showing. At the top of the stairs was a balcony that overlooked the foyer and front door. Melissa climbed the stairs, walked down the hall towards the back of the house, where her familiar room was. The house was perfectly clean and, in her bedroom, one would never find a dust bunny. Of course, Chelsea had a cleaning lady and she even had a cook who looked a bit like Mrs. Doughtfire. Betty Peterson was a wonderful older lady whose husband had passed away five years ago. No, he was not run over by a Guinness beer truck. Her children were all grown and lived in Portland Maine. Betty was a wonderful cook and worked for Chelsea a few days a week when she was home and not out on business. Betty would prepare several meals that could be heated up, since Chelsea was not much of a cook. Chelsea would occasionally entertain guests and Betty would prepare meals on those occasions also.

Mellissa went to her private bathroom, used the toilet