Two Brothers

By T.J Wilson

Two Brothers is about two brothers that were ex-Navy Seals. They were trained to kill using any weapon on their hands. Nick, the younger brother sold his skills to the Mafia, he becomes a murderer, highly sought out for special jobs. Tom becomes an FBI Special Agent. Murders being committed by Nick are in Tom’s jurisdiction. If that isn’t bad enough, every lead they have ends up dead before the FBI and police can get them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640273740

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Two Brothers

T.J Wilson

Copyright © 2017 T.J Wilson

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-64027-373-3 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64027-374-0 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Introduction

Nick Wilcox, a young man in his early twenties, served four years in the United States Navy as a Navy Seal. He was trained by the government to be a killing machine. His stint as a Navy Seal taught him how to become an expert in explosives, martial arts, and marksmanship with any weapon, and he had the art of killing down pat; it had become second nature to him. Now he worked for another organization just as vicious. He was a mechanic for the Mafia; he was hired for special hits the mob wanted carried out. He was summoned to the St. Louis area to take care of a bookie which had been caught scheming money from the mob. Nick was not hired just to kill his bookie, but to make him an example of what happens when you get sticky fingers with property belonging to the Mafia. Since this bookie was taken from Illinois and brought to Missouri to be killed, the FBI was informed and began an investigation of this murder. Tom Wilcox is the elder brother of Nick and is a special agent for the FBI. He has been assigned as the senior agent into the investigation of the kidnapping and subsequent murder of this bookie. Not only does he have to investigate the case, where he is sure his brother is involved, but there is a leak within the agency or police department. Every time a lead comes up, another body appears. He must find this leak before anyone discovers his brother is the prime suspect of these murders.

Hey, Frankie, my man. What’s the hurry? We’ve been looking all over for you.

I’ve been busy. You know how it is.

Yeah sure. Look, I’ve got someone I want you to meet, amigo.

Manuel, man, can’t it wait? I’ve got some business that I need to take care of right away.

Hold on, man. This gentleman came all the way from New York just to meet you. It wouldn’t be nice of you to make him wait. Would it?

No, I guess it wouldn’t. I think I could put this business thing aside for a few minutes.

Now that is really nice of you, Frankie.

Anything for you Manuel

Thanks, amigo.

Hey, Nick, if this business is going to take some time, can we put it aside for about an hour? If you don’t mind, I really got something else that I have to take care of. How about us hooking up a little later?

Sorry, Frankie, I don’t have the time to wait. You are going to have to put all of your business aside, forever.

What are you talking about?

Frankie, I can’t believe you could be so stupid. You actually thought you could scam twenty-five grand from the man and him not miss it? Doesn’t he pay you enough?

Yes, the Big Man has been very generous to me.

Then why did you steal from him?

I was stupid. I got in a jam, and I needed some extra cash fast.

You could have asked for it. But that doesn’t matter because you get a chance to pay for it now . . . with your life.

Wait, Nick. Man, give me a week or two and I’ll pay it back. I’ll pay him thirty thousand. Just don’t kill me!

How, who are you going to rip off? It really doesn’t matter anyway. I was told to fix it. You know what that means.

Nick, man, please let me talk to the boss. I’ll straighten it out with him. Everything will be cool. Please, amigo.

Sorry, pal, can’t do that. I’ve got my orders. He doesn’t want to talk to you. He wants you dead. Let’s get going and get this over with. Boys, take him to the car.

No, I ain’t going! One of the torpedoes takes his fist and slams it into Frankie’s midsection and then gives him a blow to his jaw.

Frankie, my man, don’t make it any harder for yourself than it has to be. Come on and be a good boy, come with us to the car. Come and get a move on it. I don’t have all night.

When they arrive to the car, Frankie makes a frantic attempt to break loose. Nick yells at the two men, Get that son of a bitch! The two thugs catch him. One holds him while the other one uses him as a punching bag. After roughing him up a little, they drag him to the car and tell him to get in. Once again he tries to resist and again he fails. He receives another fist to the midsection. One of the thugs yells at Frankie. You piece of shit, get in the damn car now! Then he hits him twice more in the gut. Frankie falls to his knees, then he is thrown into the vehicle.

Nick tells the driver to start the car and drive.

Manuel asks Nick where they are headed. "According to the directions I have, we are supposed to go down Route three, drive towards the Popular Street Bridge. Once on the Missouri side of the Mississippi, we are to head west on Interstate 70 to the Hall Street exit.

Manuel exclaims Won’t that take us by the Correctional Center?

Hell, man, I don’t know. I’m not from around here.

Nick replies, Don’t worry about it. About five miles past the center, there will be an abandoned filling station on the right. Behind it is a vacant field.

The rest of the trip is made in complete silence. Once on Hall Street, Nick begins to watch for the center.

It won’t be long now, just five more miles. There it is, pull in and park behind the building.

The six men get out of the vehicle. The driver opens the trunk and grabs a hatchet. Manuel stands lookout while the rest of them break the lock to the door and enter the building.

Frankie’s right hand is placed on the counter and tied in place and then a gag is placed over Frankie’s mouth to muffle his screams. The man with the hatchet brings it down upon Frankie’s hand . . . once . . . twice. One by one each finger falls from his hand. Frankie tries to scream out in pain, tears rolling from his eyes. His knees begin to give as he begins to go into shock. The process is repeated to his left hand. By now the only thing preventing him from falling to the floor is his hand still being tied to the counter.

Nick tells the two thugs to carry him out into the field. Once they have reached their destination, Frankie is dropped to his knees. Nick pulls out his revolver, attaches the silencer, and places the barrel to Frankie’s forehead. He pulls the trigger, Frankie falls to the ground.

Let’s get out of here. The men walk back to the car and drive off. Nick tells the driver not to speed. We don’t want any unexpected company.

Around eight in the morning, the St. Louis Humane Society receives several phone calls about a band of stray dogs gathered in a field behind an abandoned filling station off of Hall Street. Two trucks are dispatched to that location to try and round up the dogs. When they arrive, the dogs appear to be feeding on something. One of the men grabs his rifle and fires in the air. The dogs flee, and the two men realize that the dogs have been eating a badly mutated body. One of them calls the dispatcher and reports what they have found. They are told to stay there until the police arrive. After about forty-five minutes from the time they have scared the dogs off, the police begin to arrive. Several patrol cars arrive on the scene. A call is placed to Homicide, requesting detectives be sent to this location.

About fifteen minutes pass when detectives Ron Rogers and Brian Jones arrive on the scene.

They begin their investigation by Sgt. Jones asking the nearest officer who was in charge of this crime scene.

I am, answers patrolman Steve Jasper. My partner and I was the first unit to arrive. Those two employees of the Humane Society made the discovery after being dispatched here to gather up a band of stray dogs.

Is that right?

Yes, sir.

Where are the dogs?

Gone, sir.

Gone?

Yes, sir, we scared them off.

You scared them off.

Yeah.

Why?

Because they were growling at us and it looked as if they were going to attack us.

They then walk to the body. What have we got here?

It appears to be a male Hispanic or maybe an Indian in his mid to upper twenties. No identification found on him. He was shot in the in the forehead at close range. That would be the fatal wound, but he would have died anyway.

Why’s that?

He would have bled to death. It seems all of his fingers were chopped off. We have searched out here, but we have not been able to find them. Apparently he had been brought out here after his fingers had been removed.

Sgt. Rogers tells the police to expand their search to include the vacant building for evidence.

Detective Jones tells the dog catchers they are free to leave now.

Detectives, you were right, they found the fingers inside the vacant building. Detective Rogers heads to the building to retrieve the evidence with his lab technician. He asks the technician if he can recover any fingerprints from them in order to get an ID on the John Doe.

Detective Jones tells the examiner that he can remove the body now. OK, we know that he was brought here to be killed after someone took the time and effort to remove his fingers in that vacant building. But where did he come from before that? And why would someone take the time to whack off his fingers if they were going to shoot him anyway?

Ron, my man, I’d bet that the mob is behind this little scene here. If I were to guess, I’d say he was being a sample of what happens when you cross a certain family. I think we are done here.

The two detectives walk to their vehicle. Damn, it looks like we got ourselves one hell of a case, remarks Ron.

Don’t count on it, partner. Two to one says the Feds will end up with this case.

Why?

A bullet in the forehead at close range in the middle of a field, fingers being chopped off, this is not an ordinary murder case. This was a professional hit, and I’ll bet that our John Doe was kidnapped, a federal crime which will take this out of our hands.

"Thanks, Brian, I was hoping to get a chance at breaking this case. It would be great to nab the sick SOB that did this.

Sorry, partner, I didn’t mean to burst your bubble. I could be wrong though.

Yeah and I could be superman,

While the two detectives head back to the station, they receive a message that the lab technicians have information concerning their John Doe.

Well, Ron, maybe we will get lucky and get a chance to work this case after all.

I’m not going to hold my breath.

They arrive at the station and head toward the lab. What have you got for us? asked Brian.

Your John Doe is now the deceased Frankie Ramirez, aka Frankie the Bookie. He was twenty-four years of age, last known address was in Fairview Heights, Illinois. We had a check ran to see if he had a record. He was a pusher, user, pimp, thief, and bookie. Your everyday, next-door-neighbor type.

Well, Brian, I guess you were right. This one will be going to the Feds. We might as well report to the captain so he can call the Feds.

Captain Hendricks, that murder victim, which was found on Hall Street, seems to be a kidnap victim as well. It looks like he was abducted from Fairview Heights and brought over here to be wasted. It was a professional hit and has mob written all over it.

You two want to work this case?

Yeah, but won’t this fall into the hands of the Feds?

I am going to assign you two to the Major Case Squad. That way you can work this case even if the Feds get involved. We have sort of a partnership with the local Illinois departments that allows us to work along with their officers on special cases. This will enable you to gather what evidence you can from over there. Your contact will be a detective Cathy Andrews. She is our link to cases involving that part of Illinois.

Thanks, Captain.

I don’t want you two to leave the building yet. You may have to fill the Feds in on what information you do have at this point. I’ll call you in my office if I need to. I am going to make it clear to them that we are going to stay involved on this case. My city isn’t going to be a dumping ground for the mob.

We will cooperate with the Feds if, and only if, they are willing to make it a two-way deal. If not, we will conduct our own investigation of this homicide.

Gotcha, Captain.

As they leave the captain’s office, detective Jones exclaims, Ron, my boy, someone is smiling upon you! You get your chance to work the case after all.

I can’t believe the captain is doing this. Usually the Feds move in and the case is handed to them, leaving the department out of the picture completely. I hope it doesn’t happen this time.

The captain makes the necessary call to the FBI; he knows that if he doesn’t make this call before noon, he will receive a call from the upper brass, wanting to know why the Feds have not been informed about this possible kidnapping and mob hit. So he had one of two choices: call the Feds, or leave one tough day from his boss.

This is the twelve o’clock report with Rudy Abernathy. Our top story comes from North St. Louis City. This morning a badly decomposed body of a Hispanic male in his mid to upper twenties was found in a field behind a vacant filling station off of Hall Street, just several miles north of the Correctional Center. The victim’s name has been withheld pending identification. The Major Case Squad has been put in charge of the investigation.

Captain Hendricks, I am special agent Tom Wilcox. My partner here is agent Tim Bocatto. We are here to get any information you may have on that John Doe that was found this morning.

Gentlemen, I will call in the two detectives in charge of this investigation. They will fill you in with the details.

Thank you, Captain Hendricks.

Brian, Ron, can you two come to my office?

Yes, sir.

Sgt. Jones, Detective Rogers, this is special agent Wilcox and agent Bocatto. They are here about the Ramirez case.

So you have a name on the victim?

"That’s right. Now I want something perfectly clear, we are willing to share our information with you and cooperate with you 100 percent as long as we work on this along with you.

If you should decide you don’t want our help, we will conduct our own little investigation. What we have here is first-degree murder, and in Missouri that is the death penalty.

Captain Hendricks, there is no need to get all worked up, we will be glad to work along with your department on this case.

"That’s fine. OK, Brian, would you be kind enough to go over this case with these two agents and share what information we do have with them?

Yes, sir. I am Brian Jones and this is Ron Rogers.

I am Tom Wilcox. This is Tim Bocatto. Glad to meet you two.

"Our John Doe is Frank Ramirez alias Frankie. His last known address is from Fairview Heights, Illinois. We know that he was taken into the vacant building in front of the field he was discovered in, that is where is fingers were discovered. From there he was carried to the middle of the field and shot point-blank in the forehead. We assume a silencer was used since