Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Chapter 3

After James and Justin arrived at the house and were brought up to speed on what was going on, Jake got into the gun safe in the Master suite and armed everyone that knew how to use a gun.  Hand guns were to be kept on each person at all times and rifles were put in the bedrooms where the adult that shot could reach it.  Miranda, Isaiah and Elijah pulled their father aside to ask him what was going on.  “Dad, why aren’t we at home?” Miranda asked.

Malachai sighed.  “You three are old enough to know, I suppose.  Today, someone tried to kill your Aunt Jordan.  She had Jazzi and was putting her in the car when the bullet ricocheted off the side of the car.”

“So, why are we all here?” Elijah asked.

“Because your grandparents said that we all need to be close to each other so that we can protect each other.  Gramma had one of her dreams.”

“Does that mean that Gramma and Grampa are coming back?” Isaiah asked.

“We don’t know yet.  Aunt Jessi is about to have a baby and I’m sure they’ll want to be there when the baby’s born.  The adults have it all under control.  You guys just need to relax and not worry.  Things are going to go on as usual until there comes a point where we need to pull you out of school; if that point comes.

“So, we’re just going to stay here, with everyone, until when?”

“Until whomever it was that tried to take out your Aunt Jordan is apprehended and brought to justice.  Any problem with that?” Malachai made it clear in his voice that he appreciate his older three questioning him and the decisions he made.  They all shook their heads.  “Good.  Now, go help your little brother and sisters get ready for bed and the three of you had better have all of your homework for tomorrow done.  I’m not going to play around if one of your teachers calls me tomorrow to complain that they’re tired of getting late work from you.  You know better.”

“Yes, sir”, they said in unison.

“Now go do as you’ve been told.”  Malachai walked away.  His oldest three children stood and exchanged a look.  “They’re hiding something from us”, Isaiah said.

“And they’re not going to give us the whole story until they think we need to know”, Miranda said.

“I fucking hate it when Dad does that”, Elijah said.  “He thinks he’s protecting us, but he’s not.”

“They all think they’re protecting us.  The younger kids are just happy to be together because they rarely ever see each other.  We’re older and we know better.  I just wish that the adults would see that and not treat us like little kids”, Isaiah complained.

“Believe me, my brothers, you’re not the only ones.  I’m tempted to call Gramma and Grampa to see if they’ll tell us about what’s going on”, Miranda said sourly.  “Maybe then we’ll get some straight answers.”

---------------

Three hours after soliciting the child hookers, Grissom strolled into the sea side warehouse as planned.  He looked at the kids and they looked exactly how he imagined Miranda and Isaiah Draiman would look when he finally got his hands on them.  Their faces were bloody, bruises, and swollen.  Their hands were tied behind their backs and to their ankles.  It was what he expected of the men on his brute squad.

“Hello Isaiah.  Hello Miranda.  How have you liked my hospitality so far?”

The boy spat blood in his face.  Apparently, they knew the script well.  “Fuck you!” he yelled.

Grissom punched the boy in the face.  “Have you lost your mind, boy?  Didn’t your rock star father teach you manners and to respect your elders?”

“Yeah, he also taught us not to let some sadistic FUCK like you”, the girl playing Miranda screamed.
Grissom grabbed a fist full of her hair and slapped her causing blood to blossom from her lip.  “I thought Daddy taught you not to use such language.  It’s unbecoming a young lady.”

“Go to hell!” she spat back.

Grissom used the hand in her hair to pull her away from the spot where she had endured a severe beating at the hands of his brute squad.  At least he knew they could do their jobs.  This little girl WANTS me to hurt her, he thought to himself as he removed her pants.  She fought against him as he flipped her onto her stomach and removed himself from his pants.  He shoved himself inside her and as she screamed and cried.  He loved the sound of her cries because they weren’t cries of pleasure.  They were cries of pain.

The more she screamed the more he loved it.  He more it urged him on.  He looked over and watched the boy struggle to get free and watched the men of his brute squad restrain the boy and put a knife to his throat.  “STOP IT!  YOU’RE HURTING HER!” the boy screamed.

“That’s the point!” one of the thugs growled at the boy.  “You brats are going to learn some manners.”

---------------

Jake stayed up that night because he couldn’t sleep.  He sat in the living room and watched the news and the DV-R recording of the Presidential debates.  The candidates had been decided in January.  The candidates running for President had until November to convince people to vote for them.  What he saw was beyond appalling.  There was actually a Utopian candidate there participating.  It wasn’t between the Democrats and Republicans anymore.  It was the Democrats, Republicans, Libertarians, and Utopians.  Those his father was decidedly Libertarian, Jake and his siblings were taught to think for themselves and not be sheep.  That was the message of his father’s music when he was still recording.  But, Disturbed had been retired for five years.  Thankfully, the music was still around so the message could be heard still.

Skyler walked in.  He had a key to the house in case he needed it.  “Hey Jake, can I talk to you for a sec?” he asked as he shut the door behind himself.

Jake looked over his shoulder at Skyler.  He then took the remote and hit pause.  “Sure, Skyler, what’s up?”

Skyler took a seat in one of the arm chairs.  “I know shit’s hitting the fan.  If you need another man who can shoot, count me in.  You’re my family as well and I’m not just going to sit on my ass while these bastards try to kill you and your family; especially my daughter, son in law, and my grandchildren.  I maybe 53, but I was also ‘cleaning house’ in the Utopian War and I still keep my aim sharp to this day.”

“We can use every shooter we can get, Skyler.  I don’t know what’s happening just yet, but we’re not going to let the Utopians take over the government again.  I just hope that there are enough people left alive in the country that remember the way things were then.”  He sighed and picked up the rifle on the couch next to him.  “Here, you’ll need this.”  He handed the rifle to Skyler

Skyler took the rifle and played with it, getting a feel for the weight and balance, and handed the rifle back to Jake.  “Thanks Jake, but you keep this here for when you need me.  I also have a rifle and a 9mm hand gun at home just in case.”

Jake grinned.  “Alrighty then.  Let me know should you need ammo, ok?”

Skyler chuckled.  “Will do.  I’m sure that Morbus has plenty of ammo too.”

Jake laughed.  “Yeah, I know.  It’s Morbus we’re talking about.  He has ammo.  He has plenty of ammo for all of us and THEN some.”

“I wonder if he’ll break out some of his old toys.”

“If we need him to he will.  He hates the idea of a Utopian Society as much as the rest of us do.  They’re the reason he’s so badly scarred.  I have offered to recommend him to a good reconstructive plastic surgeon, but he said no.  He likes the way he looks now.  He says, ‘Crazy is as crazy does and I want them to think I’m a psycho’.” He couldn’t help but laugh.

Skyler laughed as well.  “So what has you in here rather than in bed next to your wife?”

“Couldn’t sleep.  Can’t sleep.  Too much shit on my mind.  Sleeping doesn’t come easy when you have to deal with the shit I have to deal with.  I’m just trying to find balance in my mind so that I can focus on the task at hand; defending and taking care of the family.  Dad left me in charge for a reason.  He knows I can handle it.  But, I have to admit- and if this leaves us, I’ll know- there are times when I question my father’s judgment.  Yeah, I’m his first born son, but I’m not his first son.  That’s Malachai.”

“I heard through the grapevine that Malachai didn’t want it when it was offered to him.  He’d rather play lieutenant to you than be the head of the house.”

Jake sighed.  “Yeah, that’s what happened.  When Jordan and I turned 16, Dad took Malachai and me aside.  He said, ‘Boys, as we all know, I’m not going to be around forever.  You’re the oldest of my boys.  Malachai, you’re my oldest son.  Jacob, you’re my first born son.  One of you has to take over when I’m gone and lead the family- be the patriarch, though I hate that term.’  Malachai was quick to say that he didn’t want it.  Dad looked at me and I took the responsibility.  From that point on, I was pretty much groomed to take on the mantle of being the ‘leader of the clan’.”

“Much like in adolescence, you father was being groomed to be a rabbi?”

Jake chuckled.  “Something like that, but I did it out of a sense of duty and responsibility to my family rather than religious habit like Dad did when he was younger.  I knew what I was doing was right then.”  He sighed.  “Right now, I’m not so sure.”

“What proves a leader’s mettle is not how he handles the good, but how he handles the pressure when things get rough.”

Jake smiled.  “Thanks for that, Skyler.  Words of wisdom, as always.”

“Hey, I’m not always a sarcastic bastard.  I can be insightful when I need to be”, Skyler laughed then his face sobered.  “I can also tell you from firsthand experience what it’s like to have to protect your family in a time like this.  I remember the hell of the Utopian Conflict.  You weren’t even born when it started.”

“I remember being trapped inside all the time as a kid.  I remember the rally tour.  I remember Fuzz flipping out.  He was an ass to begin with, then I heard him call Dad a ‘kike’.  I’m still surprised that Dad didn’t blow his head off then.”

“Have you ever gotten to go off on Fuzz?”

“A couple of times, but Jordan is the one that usually cut deepest.”

“Your twin is a mean ass.”

“No kidding.  I feel for the person that’s trying to kill her should she ever come across them.  She will rip them apart.”

Neither of them knew that Jordan would get that chance and she wouldn’t rip them apart; she would blow them apart.

---------------

The night was over just as quickly as it had started.  Daddy knew that his favorite money makers would need time off so that they could heal from the spectacle that they had participated in.  He was informed when he dropped them off at the warehouse to collect the fee upfront.  He said it was insurance that his bread winners would be returned safely to him, but it was actually blood money.  And the blood would be on the hands of the man that he trusted the children to.

The kids were putting new clean clothes on so that they could go home to Daddy and recover from their night.  They were looking forward to the rest.  “I was nervous about this at first, but it came out a more than I could have expected”, the fake Isaiah said.

Fake Miranda grinned.  “I was looking forward to it all night.  I needed a thrill like this.  This guy is one John that I would come back to in a heartbeat- even if that means I have to pretend to be this Miranda girl.”
“I’d come back and pretend to be Isaiah.”

“Daddy said that this guy paid three times what was expected of the night up front.  It’s like he knew we could do an above average job.”

Grissom was in the room outside the changing room listening to the juvenile banter.  He rolled his eyes as he looked at his assistant.  “Children”, he said.

“Indeed, sir.  What would you like to do with them, sir?”

“Dispose of them.  They’re no longer of use to me.  They’ll never tell me how to get a hold of Malachai or Jordan Draiman, so lose them.”

The assistance just smiled.  He knew the script.  It was the same every time.  He would solicit the hookers and delude himself into thinking they were Malachai Draiman’s children.  He would come to his senses the next day when the bodies would be discovered and would spend the day making sure that the murders couldn’t be connected to him.  Eventually, it would catch up to him.  “Anyway in particular, sir?”

“Torch the bodies and send the ashes to the Draiman homestead in Colorado.  Other than that, no.”

The request shocked the man.  He’d never heard such a request before.  “If you’re sure that’s what you want, sir.”

“It is.  Take it to the elementary school that Dr. Draiman’s oldest daughter goes to and have it left as a delivery for her.  Put a note on there, you know what to have it say.”

The man stuttered.  “Yes.  Yes, sir.  Right away.”  He hurried off to find one of the men that had roughed up the children to begin with.  When he spotted the biggest of the bruisers, he pulled him aside.  “Mr. Grissom wants them taken care of without evidence.  Bring the ashes back to me.”  The man nodded and walked away.  The assistant stood and watched as the man moved through the shadows and put a bulletin both of the children’s heads.  Dear God in Heaven, please forgive me for all of the wicked I do in this life.  When I started doing this, I thought it was for the greater good, he thought as he watched the bodies lie lifeless on the floor as every major artery and vein was severed so that they could drain and be taken for disposal.
Once the bodies of the young man and woman were carried off to be burned, he took a deep breath and put on his best cold and professional face.  He made a couple of marks on his tablet and started for his car so that he could be at the office when the ashes were brought to him.  He had to start thinking of a way to warn the Draiman family of what was really going on without telling them who he was.  He would reveal his identity once he knew it was safe. 

“Dr. Draiman,

I hope that this message finds you and your family in good health and happiness.  The contents of this box are a warning.  Keep your children close.  The man I work for wants to do very wicked things to your oldest niece and nephew in order to get to your elder brother.  Your twin sister is in danger as well.  Stay close to each other.

A friend”

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