Justifiable Revenge

By Bob Ferguson

Flint Stone, a former United States Air Force special forces officer is dragged into the world of illegal drug dealers as he walks into a robbery in progress at a gas station and convenience store. There, in self-defense he kills a drug lord's son in a shootout. This sets in motion a series of events that changes Flint's life forever. In a matter of a few hours, Flint's family is murdered and his home and possessions destroyed. A large bounty is placed on his life by the drug lord. He then vows to avenge his family. With the help and understanding of friends he discovers methods being used by illegal drug manufacturers and distributors to move drugs to customers who then sell to pushers. Flint and FBI agent, Jessie Bell, use their skills to identify, locate and gather evidence against drug lords and the gangs of thugs and pushers. In the process Flint does things we all would like to do to crooks and scum-bags but are reluctant to do because of our respect for the laws that govern us. His goal is to locate and identify the big boss who has control of the system.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781646280896

Book preview

Chapter One

The night was warm and a fine drizzle was falling. This caused that aggravating hazy look and the need to keep the wipers on intermittent although he didn’t think they needed to cycle as often as they were. Fatigue was beginning to creep into his body and the gas gauge was reading low. He had passed the big wind farm sometime ago and knew Salina, Kansas was not far ahead. He would leave Interstate 70 on the west side of Salina, taking Interstate 135 south to Wichita, Kansas. But for now the first thing on his mind was a good cup of coffee and maybe a doughnut. Refilling the gas tank would make it possible to get home without another gas stop. It had certainly been a long haul from Limon, Colorado where he had last stopped for gas and a short rest break. As he made the turn on to the exit ramp that would take him onto I-135 south his dash clock changed from 12:59 a.m. to 1:00 a.m.

Flint Stone, a decorated U.S. Air Force Special Operations veteran, had met with two buddies that he had become friends with during their years of service. They had met in Cody, Wyoming for a sort of reunion. Some time was spent in Cody, staying at the historic Irma Hotel built by William Buffalo Bill Cody and named for his daughter. The nearby Proud Cut restaurant and the generous buffet at the Irma quickly became favorite mealtime haunts.

Mark Stubby Jackson, a former corpsman and now undercover cop in Fort Worth, Texas had met Flint during a short stay in the hospital for observation. Flint was too close to an explosion of several defective shells and land mines at a dump site where he and his squad were involved in exposing a ring of gun and ammo thieves. Stubby and Flint became friends and after leaving the hospital Flint took Stubby under his wing, teaching him about long-range rifles. The former U.S. Air Force Hospital corpsman couldn’t get enough of the Rocky Mountain oysters at the Proud Cut even though Flint teased him about eating bull balls.

Toast Oyer, a light skinned black man and former air force finance officer, met and befriended Flint when his military pay got fouled up. It was thought Flint wouldn’t get any pay for six months until he repaid what was thought to be an overpayment. Toast took an interest, found the mistake and got Flint’s pay back on track. An avid gun enthusiast, Toast is now the owner of a gun shop in Amarillo, Texas. Toast had a really hard time trying to resist the baked ham and dessert at the Irma.

Flint just liked it all and felt he had gained several pounds in only a few days. On their visit to the Buffalo Bill Museum, Toast was a mountain of information as the men marveled at the displays and exhibits of historic and antique weapons. After three days in Cody, they set out for Yellowstone National Park, where they checked into the historic park lodge and spent three days roaming the vast park. They saw buffalo, bear, wolves, elk, moose, beaver and bald eagles. The fourth day, they returned to Cody and spent the last night together having barbecued ribs at a local establishment that Flint called Harvey’s, but the sign was so faded no one could read it. They vowed if they ever came back to Cody, they would meet there first. All three men agreed that they had enjoyed the time together, reliving old times and catching up on the present. They promised themselves to do it again soon.

Now Flint was on his way back to his family and job in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. He knew his wife, Opal, four year old son Rocky and Rocky’s little sister, Sandy, would be waiting when he got home. He smiled when he thought of them and was looking forward to being back.

His job was another thing. He just didn’t feel right about it. He had been building little wood frame storage sheds using inferior materials for sometime now. His boss, a boisterous, domineering and very shady individual was not above misrepresenting his product. Flint referred to him as the idiot and knew for a fact the buildings were way overpriced. The unsuspecting homeowners were getting ripped off and Flint really didn’t like being associated with the man even though he was really quite intelligent.

With luck, Flint knew he could be home around 7:30 a.m. and have the day to spend with his family before going back to the grind the next day.

Chapter Two

The second exit on I-135 looked good, so he took it. A short distance down the street he found a gas station with a convenience store attached. Flint eased into the vacant lot, lowering his window for fresh air and let the truck roll to a stop at the pumps. Seeing no other vehicles on the lot, he thought, No wonder. Who in their right mind is out to buy gasoline at 1:00 a.m.? Shutting the motor down he opened the door and stepped out. He took a deep breath of the night air, stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. That was when he noticed the pump was reset and ready to pump.

He took the nozzle from the pump, selected the grade of gasoline and pushed the pay inside button. As he placed the nozzle into the tank he saw a tall young man next to the girl behind the counter. Something wasn’t right. The guy was holding the girl’s upper arm in his left hand and talking in her ear. She was struggling and trying to pull free. She was looking straight at Flint and it was plain to see she was crying. This just wasn’t right. When Flint attempted to start the pump it only pumped a quarter’s worth of gas and stopped. He hung the nozzle up and started toward the store. That’s when he saw the gun in the young man’s right hand. He thought, Holy crap! What do I do now? Spinning around, he reached through the window of his truck, grabbed his pistol and put it in his waistband at the small of his back.

Moving quickly, he walked to the door and as he entered began talking loud and rapidly. What in the world are you thinking about, young lady? I need a tank full of gasoline, not a spoonful. Where in the world is your head anyway? Moving fast, he stepped through the opening in the counter. His right forearm struck the young man solidly in the face, breaking his nose and snapping his head back violently. Blood spurted from his nose, splattering the counter and displays. Running into the punk, Flint hooked his left foot behind the kid’s right ankle then pushed hard. The punk landed hard on his back, dropping his pistol, which slid across the floor. Flint stepped heavily on the punk’s crotch, saying, Oops. Bending down Flint back hand slapped him across the face. The kid cried out in pain. Flint said, Shut up and lie still. Next, Flint picked up the punk’s pistol, dropped the magazine and ejected the round from the chamber.

As Flint started to straighten up a shot rang out. A can of cashews exploded near his face. The girl was screaming at the top of her lungs, pointing at the back of the store. Another punk was standing in front of the coolers, pointing a pistol at him. Flint continued to straighten up. Grabbing a handful of cashews. He put some in his mouth and shouted at the punk, That thing is loaded, idiot! Don’t be pointing it at people. You might hurt someone! The punk was so taken by surprise that he just stared dumbfounded as Flint stuffed more cashews into his mouth with his left hand. The punk steadied the gun with both hands taking aim. Using his right hand Flint reached back quickly pulling his pistol from his waistband.

Raising the pistol Flint calmly shot twice. One bullet entered the punk’s left eye and the second through his forehead. They traveled onward, expanding, ripping and shredding everything in their path. The back of the punk’s head exploded! Hair, brains, blood and small pieces of bone splattered the beer cooler behind him. It totally ruined the Bud Light poster. The punk then crumpled to the floor like a limp rope as the rest of his blood slowly pumped out onto the floor. Flint went to the punk checking his condition. Then back to the still screaming girl. As he helped her to a booth along the front windows he said, We need to call the police and an ambulance.

Going to the counter, Flint found a receipt someone had not taken after their purchase and used it for the address and name of the station as he called 911. The operator wanted a lot of information from him but he just interrupted her. There is one dead and one who needs a hospital. I’m not sure if there are more in the store. Tell the police and ambulance people to hurry.

Going back to the girl Flint asked, Can I get you anything? Noticing her name tag he said, Julie, you need to breathe deep and try to relax a little. Do you need anything?

She shook her head no, then still sobbing said, A soda would be nice. Flint went to the soda machine and drew a cola for Julie and then a coffee and a fresh doughnut for himself.

As he returned to the booth, the punk behind the counter began to squirm and tried to get up. Flint set the soda and coffee on the table in front of the girl, returned to the punk and dragged him out where he could keep an eye on him. Stay and be a good boy, he told the punk and returned to the booth to have his coffee.

Talking to Julie was useless. She just sobbed and sipped her cola as tears slowly spilled down her cheeks. Flint was relieved to see a patrol car lead an ambulance into the parking lot. All their lights were flashing as they drove right up to the front of the store as if they were on break looking for a cup of coffee.

Chapter Three

The two policemen came in slowly, looking first left, then right. Seeing Flint at the booth they came toward him. One smiled at Julie and asked, Julie, are you okay? The one who looked like he might think he was in charge looked at Flint, asking, Where are the suspects? Pointing a finger at the one on the floor, Flint said, He’ll need a Band-Aid and the guy back there won’t complain about or need anything special.

Both policemen walked to the punk who was lying on the floor by the counter. One said, Stay here. We will be right with you. As if he could go anywhere on his own. They then went to the back of the store where the second guy, obviously dead, lay in a pool of blood, brains and other head parts. The ambulance crew went to the punk by the counter and began to check him and get him ready to transport to the hospital.

About then the coroner’s van came slowly onto the lot, followed closely by a tricked out pickup with three young boys in it. Seeing the flashing lights of the police and ambulance, they did a slow U-turn and left.

The attendant from the coroner’s office came in, spoke softly and briefly to one of the patrolmen, then waved for his partner to come on in. The second coroner attendant brought a gurney and two cases which Flint assumed contained the tools of the trade. As they prepared the dead guy for his trip to the morgue, Flint wondered if they had a sort of dustpan and scraper to use to get all the brains, bone and hair picked up. That way his family could have them to bury with the rest of him.

The lead patrolman came to where Flint sat in the booth. He looked Flint over cautiously, then said, Hello, I’m Patrolman Wilkes. I need to ask a few questions.

Flint said, Okay.

Wilkes asked, What’s your name?

Looking him straight in the eye, Flint replied, Flint Stone.

Where are you from, where are you headed and what is your part in this?

I’m from Oklahoma City. I’ve been to Cody, Wyoming and I’m on my way home. I needed gas and maybe coffee, a donut and a short break. It looks like I picked the wrong station or just the wrong time.

Wilkes thought a beat, then said, You know, it’s late, J.E. and I will have a lot of paperwork to do before we can go home. So if you would come with us to the station we’ll let the chief ask the questions and save a lot of time.

Flint replied, Sure.

Wilkes turned to his partner and introduced him to Flint as J. E. Martin, the coolest patrolman on the force. We will all go to the station together and J.E. will bring you back when we are finished.

Flint replied, I would prefer to drive my truck to the station so I can leave for home when we are finished.

Wilkes said, Can’t let you do that. You need to come with us in the patrol car.

Flint replied, You might want to check with your chief because you need my statement and if I have to leave my truck here then I want my attorney present when I make the statement. He will have to drive from Oklahoma City. He’ll probably be tied up in some sort of business and need at least a day or two to make arrangements to come to Salina. Then it will be an all day trip for him to get here. He will want a good night’s sleep then, the next day you might see him. We may be looking at the mid to late part of next week. Where am I going to stay and who is going to pay for my room and meals while we wait for him to take his sweet time getting here?

Wilkes looked to Martin for help and discovered him in the booth with Julie engrossed in what appeared to Flint as a very intimate conversation. When Wilkes looked back at Flint he was smiling.

Flint asked, Does he hit on every female victim you come across, or is this something new he is trying?

Wilkes answered softly, I think he is trying to calm her.

Flint said, Let’s get to the station and let me make my statement before I fall asleep on my feet. Maybe you guys can get your paperwork done before it is time for your next shift to start.

Wilkes went to Martin and told him to come to the station as soon as he was finished with the crime scene. He then told Flint he would ride with him so he couldn’t change his mind about coming to the station. Smiling, Flint replied, Okay, Sheriff, let’s mount up and head for the jail. Maybe I can get that statement made and get out of town before daybreak.

Before leaving the gas station, Wilkes called the police station to give a heads-up so they could be ready to take Flint’s statement.

As they started to leave Julie called out to Flint, Sir, that coffee and doughnut will be $2.55 plus tax. Will you need a receipt? Flint gave her a five and told her to keep the change. They climbed into Flint’s truck and made the trip with no incidents.

Chapter Four

Wilkes congratulated Flint for being so cooperative and driving sensibly. They were laughing about that and the coffee and doughnut as they entered through the back door of the station. Chief Dillon met them saying, Put him in interrogation A and call Lt. Dawson.

Flint waited for nearly two hours in the interrogation room with no idea when this Lt. Dawson would show up. When his bladder began to feel as though it would burst, he tried the door and found he was locked in. This is not the way to treat a voluntary witness! Finally, just after 4:30 a.m., the lovely Lt. Dawson made her appearance. She said, Sorry for the wait.

Flint replied, Me too. I discovered I was locked in. If it is at all possible, I really need to use the restroom.

Lt. Dawson stepped to the door and summoned a guard to escort Flint to the restroom. When he returned, she asked if he cared for anything such as coffee or water. Flint thanked her but said, What I really need is food, so let’s do this and maybe I can find a restaurant before I leave town.

Lt. Dawson said, First, I will need your driver’s license, gun permit, the weapon itself and your social security number, along with your place of employment.

Flint answered, I gave my pistol to Officer Wilkes before we left the scene but I can provide the rest. By the way, is our meeting being videotaped?

Lt. Dawson replied, Yes, it is standard procedure these days. Are we ready?

Flint nodded yes and answered, Let’s get it done.

Lt. Dawson began with I’ll be as quick and brief as possible. This should be a debriefing, not an interrogation, considering the situation you were in. A stenographer came in and took down his statement in addition to everything being recorded digitally.

About an hour later an officer came into the room with Flint’s personal belongings, including his pistol with three more bullets missing from the magazine. When Flint looked puzzled, the officer explained that it was fired to compare the bullets to the ones found in the blood, brains and bone found on the floor in front of the beer cooler at the scene. Lt. Dawson took the magazine, looked it over and asked, You shot that fellow twice and ballistics used three rounds. That makes five. This magazine will hold fifteen rounds. There are five rounds here. Where are the rest?

Flint explained, I never load more than ten rounds because it compresses the spring so much it loses strength. I have two more magazines in my truck. Each has ten rounds. You are welcome to check them if you wish.

Lt. Dawson replied, I would like to do just that before you leave.

Smiling, Flint said, That will be easy, just come along to my truck.

Lt. Dawson added, The chief wants to have a word with you before you leave. I’ll meet you at the front desk. Then we will check the magazines and get you some food.

Chief Dillon explained to Flint that he would probably be called to testify at the trial of the first suspect. He is in the hospital, screaming his head off, claiming brutality and discrimination. If the media people get hold of this, then the NAACP and several other organizations could get their noses in this and really stir up a mess.

Flint let that soak in a beat then replied, Let’s hope not. I saw a punk manhandling a young girl and another shot at me. I didn’t notice they were black until after the noise of the shots and the gun smoke cleared.

Chief Dillon said, Well, we will hope for the best. Maybe nothing bad will come of it.

Flint commented, Yeah, hope for the best and prepare for the worst. If there is nothing more for now, is it okay for me to be on my way? I have a long drive yet. They have all my contact information out there.

Chief Dillon stood, came around his desk, extended his hand and said Thanks for coming in. Wilkes says you did a good job out there. We appreciate your cooperation here. I would imagine the DA will be in touch when the trial is coming up.

Flint took his hand, shaking it in a friendly manner, then said "Okay, I’ll