Thursday, July 18, 2019

Headhunter – The Leader, Post #91

Courtesy of
Diego’s pulled it off three times in a row. Can he make it four? Or will someone termed “the leader” prove too smart for him. Let’s find out.



The next morning, Diego took out the piece of paper Stocky had provided him. The final name on the list was Richard Robins. Ritchie… the Leader. This one stumped him for a while. The guy worked in a law office downtown, and according to Stocky, spent his time at the country club except when he went slumming with his blue-collar buddies. Lately, that hadn’t been happening. Diego’s gang rape had splintered the group.
As he struggled for a way to handle the final member of the gang without exciting suspicion, Diego finally decided he would simply go downtown and confront the man.
Friday afternoon, armed with a description of Leader’s car from Stocky, Diego prowled the downtown parking structure beneath Ritchie’s office until he discovered the vehicle. Around five-thirty, Leader appeared in a spiffy blue suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. As the too-pretty man unlocked the door of his Mercedes, Headhunter pushed off from the post he’d been leaning against and walked toward the vehicle. Some sixth sense must have warned Leader, because he whirled… and immediately took off running.
Astounded, Diego resisted the urge to follow. Instead, he stopped to consider the possibilities. Someone had tipped Leader off. Was the guy going for the authorities? Not likely. He had to know the cohesiveness of the gang was broken. Somebody would talk, and he’d be exposed as a rapist. The guy worked in a law office, so he couldn’t afford for that kind of crap to come out.
Making his decision, Diego walked out of the parking structure and down the block. If he was being watched, he wanted to be seen leaving. Once around the corner, he re-entered the garage by another entrance and returned to the car. The keys still hung from the door lock where Leader had left them in his panic. He crawled into the back seat and lay down on the floorboard.
Within five minutes the door opened, and Diego felt the weight of a body in the driver’s seat. The briefcase struck his calf as Leader slung it into the back. The motor caught, and the Mercedes raced out of the structure. Leader barely brought the car to a halt before turning onto the street and pealing out. Diego could feel the driver’s tension peak every time he halted for a traffic light.
“Damn! Damn! Damn!” Leader muttered. “Gonna be all right. Relax, Robins, relax. The Indian fucker’s spooked. Miles from here by now.”
Headhunter mentally shook his head. The guy talked to himself! And said all the wrong things.
Ritchie really took off once he gained the Interstate. Risking life and limb to an automobile accident, Headhunter sat up in the rear seat directly behind the driver. It took Leader almost a full minute to spot him in the rearview mirror. The German automobile skidded across two lanes of traffic before Ritchie regained control.
“You! What’re you doing in my car? I’ll have you arrested. They’ll throw away the key. Get out! You hear me? Get out.”
Headhunter glanced at the speedometer. “At seventy miles an hour? I don’t think so.”
“What…what do you want?” Leader licked his upper lip nervously. His green eyes flicked back and forth between the mirror and the roadway.
“You know what I want or else you wouldn’t have run.”
Leader wiped perspiration from his lip. “How’d you find out? Who ratted on us? Chuck?”
Headhunter pursed his lips. “No one ratted on you. No one needed to, you asshole. I reached down inside and replayed the whole night like a video tape. I saw every one of you bastards, and what you did to me.”
“You couldn’t. Nobody remembers things after they take that stuff. Not as much as I gave you.”
“Maybe nobody else does, but I did. I remember you especially. Yeah, I remember it all.”
“I’m sorry, man. It was wrong. We shouldn’t have done it. Look, I’ll make it right. I’ll write you a check. Whatever you want.”
“What I want is to pay you back, not have you pay me.”
“Think about it, Diego. You don’t want to do this. You take my check, and it’ll be over. You can spend my money on things that will last a long time.” He laughed nervously. “You know, give up instant gratification for prolonged satisfaction.”
“If you knew as much about my tribe as you claim to, you’d know we savor vengeance for a long, long time. In another time and another place, I’d have taken your head. Now I’m just going to take your ass.”
“Please, man. Don’t do this.”
“Any way we do it, it’s not going to be easy for you. But I can make it a lot harder than it has to be. It’s up to you.”
“You…you’ll just do it to me, and then it’s over?”
“I’ll do exactly what you did to me, and then it’s over. Who tipped you off? John? The Pipsqueak?”
Leader nodded absently, too wrapped up in his own predicament to be concerned over possible consequences to his friend. “Yeah, John.”
“Then you’ve been expecting me. That makes it better. You’ve been worrying about me for weeks. Good.”
“What… what do you want me to do?”
“That was too easy. But appropriate. Let me tell you what happens if you try anything. Ask Chuck about the poison I have. A savage like me wouldn’t even think twice about administering a dose. Not when my manhood’s been attacked.”
“All right, you’ve made your point. What do you want me to do?” Sweat dripped off the end of the man’s nose. Headhunter chuckled. Leader better get himself another career. He probably wasn’t a very good lawyer.
“Drive to a motel and rent a room.”
Headhunter watched through the window as Leader paid for the room and picked up a key. He saw the man hesitate at the house phone but step outside without using it. He walked around to the back and unlocked a door. Headhunter was at his shoulder when he entered. Leader eyed the bed nervously.
“Look, man, won’t you reconsider? I know I did wrong, but isn’t there another way to make it right?”
“You act like you’ve never given a blowjob before, Ritchie.”
“I haven’t. Never!”
“Never been fucked?”
“No! For God’s sake, that’s the truth. I swear.”
“First time for everything. Besides, if you didn’t want to do it, why are you here in this room with me? I haven’t laid a hand on you.”
Leader swallowed hard. “I’m… I’m afraid of you.”
Headhunter nodded. “Wise man. Now get undressed.”
Headhunter watched as he complied. Over the next thirty minutes, Headhunter was almost as miserable as his victim. The man had a good body—in a rich-boy, country club sort of way, but was so androgynous looking, he failed to excite Diego. Nonetheless, after a prolonged effort, Leader managed to do what Diego wanted. It was a disappointing ejaculation, but at least the bill had been paid.
Angry with himself and at these bozos who’d led him into this, Headhunter fell over onto his back and ordered Leader to clean him up. As he watched the blond wash him, he was repulsed by the man’s precise movements. He brushed him aside and got up to dress.
“Is it over?” he asked. “Or are you going to try some legal shit?”
Leader mumbled something.
“It’s over. But…but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about it.”
“You think I want anyone to know I fucked your candy ass?”
“I guess not. Thanks.”
Thanks, the man said. Hell! What kind of vengeance was that?

Not so tough… or smart, for that matter, was he? How did he assume leadership of that bunch. Probably because the others were awed by a law degree. But as he found out, Diego believed in curanderas and spells and Jaguar, not sheepskins.

So is that the end? I wouldn't do that to you. We’ve got one more episode to go.

Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.

My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:
Website and blog:
Twitter: @markwildyr

The following are buy links for CUT HAND:

And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!

Until next time.


New posts at 6:00 a.m. on each Thursday for the life of this serial; thereafter, the first and third Thursdays of the month.

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