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From: "Frederick T." <hangten@nym.alias.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} "The Shit Hits the Fan"{Frederick T.}(MMF torture snuff)[1/4]
Date: Sun, 15 Dec 2002 08:10:05 -0500
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Author: Frederick T.
Title: The Shit Hits the Fan
Part: 1 of 4
Universe: Stories of Willy Tamarack - Willy Tamarack Saga
Summary:
Keywords: (MMF torture snuff)
Language: English
-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE-----
@(C) 1999 Frederick T. Commercial use in any form requires the written
permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds goes to the
National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORMAL) and/or the
American Cancer Society.
!!! WARNING !!!
The following material is a sex story, intended for adults only - however
you want to define them. The author accepts no responsibility should this
material fall into the hands of minors or people who would be upset reading
the fictional accounts of fictional character's sexual experiences that are
obviously pure fantasy. These stories are written to stand alone but are
based on characters and plots introduced in some of my previous writing. If
you like these stories you might also like "The Adventures of Willy Tamarack,"
"Shack, Lead !" and "The Travels of Willy Tamarack." Characters who appear in
previous works will be identified with (WT-A#3) behind their names the first
time they appear in "The Stories." The code is as follows: WT-A = The
Adventures of Willy T., SL = "Shack, Lead !", WT-T = The Travels of Willy T.
The number(s) following the letters refer to the adventure(s), chapter(s) or
trip(s) in which the character appears. It should go without saying; any
resemblance between the characters in this account and real people, either
living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
If you're still searching for the perfect world that Willy has apparently
found ? In other words: none of his friends contract sexually transmitted
diseases; nobody has bad breath; nobody gets pregnant unless they want to; few
of Willy's friends have any sexual inhibitions or hang-ups and if they do,
they quickly lose them; everyone always has an orgasm and almost all of the
people live happily ever after. Well, you're probably as close to finding it
here as anywhere else. Remember though, we are all God's children and should
treat each other as such.
A friend of mine once told me, "A day without sex, is a day without joy."
As always, e-mail your comments to the usual.
WILLY TAMARACK
ONE MORE TIME AGAIN,
FOR A WHILE
THE STORIES
"The Shit Hits the Fan"
Part One
(MMF torture snuff)
by
Frederick T.
With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S. Constitution
***** PROLOGUE *****
I woke sweating but it wasn't that hot. I was sleeping alone but sharing
the night with the past...Shit ! Maybe it's the future, must be the dope.....
The old man struggled out of the shore break. Outside it was twenty feet
plus...The wind howling down off the mountains, pure off shore. Nobody could
ride Pipeline without the off shore wind. The old man was carrying an old,
big wave board, ten foot plus...A pintail with hard rails and very skinny - a
speed board. His limbs were shaking, his body exercised to the max. He'd
never ridden anything that size, the high still rushing through his body.
His mind wandered back to the moment that made him as he struggled through
the shore break and the back wash to the sand. The wave appeared out of
nowhere, catching everyone unaware. The old man dumbly stroked once and felt
the power of the swell carry him toward shore. He was up on his feet, not
facing the wave but backside. The drop took his breath away. Hearing the
Hawaiians in the line up talking shit about him. Wondering why he was even
here ? It zapped his confidence. He wasn't sure until the adrenaline rushed
through his body.
He crouched down and dropped his rear foot toward the tail block. He
looked up to his left and saw the wall rush out in front of him.
Unconsciously, he pressed the rear of the board into the trough and off he
went. It was instinctive. The board rose and he shuffled toward the nose.
The wall seemed a hundred yards long as he crouched on the board, afraid
he would be swept off of it. The wind was fierce against his body. The board
trimmed out and all there was...Through a small hole in the wave...Was blue
sky. The old man was frozen and the fear coursed through his body. His sight
padlocked on the opening of the wave, afraid he wouldn't make it. It got
dark. He could no longer see the shore, just the hole and a small bit of sky.
The noise was terrific. He could hear the wave rushing through the holes
in the coral. A sucking sound that drowned out any other noise. The pressure
was intense ! He could feel it against his ear drums, like he was descending
from high altitude. He was transported to the ultimate fighter...Against the
ultimate adversary. He shuffled a foot forward and almost lost his balance,
the speed almost unreal. Like a fighter in full afterburner !
He burst out of the opening and all was sky and world...Faced the wave and
carved a giant arc back into the womb. He was free but traded it for the
tube. The wave was still rushing off to his left and instinctively he turned
into the meat of the tube and it got dark and still. His brain was pumping
and he could feel the rush of life flow through him. The board came around
and he'd been there before. He crouched and spit out of the opening of the
wave.
The sun was bright after the darkness, the wind pushing against his body.
He stood tall and watched as the lip poured over him, knowing that he'd made
it. Hands at his sides, speed unreal and then he was over the top and thrown
from the board. His feet felt the coral as he grabbed his board and quickly
paddled to shore. He was surprised how close he was.
There she was, half way down the slope of the sand. All of fourteen,
maybe fifteen, wearing a skimpy bikini. Blonde and beautiful and almost
naked. He felt the power flow through him as he carried his board up the
steep beach. She moved toward him, almost skipping. He was there, at the top
of the world...The king of his sport...A man among men. She was close. He
could smell her. A hint of flower, the sand, the sun and the breeze off the
mountains.
A stocky Hawaiian approached. "Hey ! Bro...You fucking my girl friend ?"
The old man looked at the young lady and found her naked as a child. A
natural blonde with wispy hair covering her groin. Her breasts proudly poking
out of her chest, topped with light cherry colored areolae and nipples that
were erect, the wind caressing them.
He felt the tightness in his groin and then the Hawaiian pulled the two of
them apart. "Hey ! Bro...You're a fucking dead man....."
***** CHAPTER ONE *****
The cellar was cool and dark but dry. Air conditioning could be heard in
the background. The woman was bound to the wall in chains with leather clasps
at her wrists and ankles, spread out like an "X". She was naked...Middle age
but very well preserved. Her breasts were about the size of small
cantaloupes, her areolae a light brown against her white skin...Her nipples
flaccid...Her arms stretched up above her head, pulling her breasts taunt
against her chest...Her legs spread, her shaved labia, hanging down from her
crotch. There was a sheen of perspiration all over her body, her head hanging
down on her chest...Her eyes glazed, looking at the floor, her lip stick
smeared. Below her was a pool of urine and a pile of liquid excrement. The
cellar stank of piss and shit but most of all, fear.
The two men were stripped to the waist. One was about the woman's age.
The other was at least ten years older. The younger man had a prominent bulge
in his pants. The older man was assured the husband would allow him to do
just about anything to his wife. The husband was getting excited watching his
wife, especially when the electricity surged through her body. The two of
them were seated at a table, sharing a bottle of wine.
"Well, cunt, where is this cabin ?" The older man had just removed the
probe from her vagina. He was greasing it up with some lubrication, not that
she needed it any more but he felt it made the electricity all that more
effective. Finished with the probe, he rose and walked toward her. He lifted
her head by her left ear. She was almost bald, just a stubble of hair covered
her skull...Like a concentration camp victim. The older man looked into her
eyes. "Come on, cunt...Tell us." He passed the probe past her eyes. They
almost looked alive as they followed the probe. The older man ran the probe
against her nipples and they hardened some what.
He turned to the younger man. "Give the box a couple of cranks." The
younger man at the table cranked the handle on the box furiously for a moment
or two and the woman strained against her bonds as the older man alternated
the probe between her nipples. The woman's screams filled the cellar.
"Aaaaaagghghhh...Oooooohhhhh ! Stop...Pleeeeease...Stooooop." The
younger man cranked the box again and the sound of the machine was drowned out
by the woman's screams.
The older man gave the cut off sign. Sweat was pouring off the woman,
dribbling down her rib cage, her sides and between her breasts. Her entire
body was quivering. Connie Clark was sure they were going to kill her.
Fuck ! She really didn't know where the cabin was ? Had only been there
two, three times; was always either stoned on his weed or that fucking cocaine
Carol always seemed to have. She wasn't sure she could take anymore of this
but didn't know how to stop it...Had told them everything she knew but they
wanted more.
The younger man at the table was her ex-husband, Rich. The older man,
with the probe, was called Elija. She'd heard Carol talk about him but Carol
couldn't be involved with this, could she ?? Elija was reaming the probe back
into her vagina and in the background she could see Rich massaging his cock,
anticipating cranking on the box again. He was getting turned on watching the
old man torture her and was sure they were going to fuck her before they were
done.
There was a saw horse over by the other wall and she was sure she'd
eventually end up bent over it while the men took their pleasure with her.
Then what ? She had no idea.
The electricity surged through her womb and she could hear herself
screaming but it sounded far, far away. Her head was bouncing against the
wall behind her. She could feel the rough cement against her back and
buttocks and the electricity kept flowing, her legs jerking around. She
voided herself again and then passed into unconsciousness.
"We got enough to go on, Elija ?"
The old man was hosing the mess on the floor to a drain in the middle of
the cellar. "Yea...There aren't many places up there and our DEA friends have
one of those magic helicopters with heat detectors, night vision, infrared...
All that shit. Hey ! They're pros right ?!" The old man laughed.
"Well...Let's get the show on the road."
"I thought you might like to give it to your ex one last time. I
guarantee it will be the fuck of life time. Give me a hand."
Elija watched Rich as he got up from the table. Jesus ! The guy had a
raging hardon in his pants. Elija was even feeling a little tickle of desire
but didn't want to waste one of the pills Tamarack's wife gave him. Shit !
They gave him a hardon for an hour, much better than the ejections. The two
of them took the woman off the wall and strapped her to the saw horse. The
old man was busy attaching clamps to her nipples while her ex-husband was
tightening the straps around her wrists.
Rich was tremendously turned on watching the old man push a different
probe into his ex-wife's cunt. Even after all these years and all the recent
events, she still turned him on...Was one of the best fucks he'd ever had.
His cock throbbed in his slacks. Elija stepped away from Connie's behind and
Rich could see her gaping cunt and the wire coming out of it.
"Put this on and stick it in her ass, Rich. She'll take you to the moon,
buddy." Rich was already unbuttoning his slacks as the old man held out the
large knobbed dildo. Maybe, just maybe, he'd have a piece of her, too ?! If
she lived through it ? Might just be worth one of the magic pills ? Elija
sat at the table and watched Rich work the fat, hard rubber cock into his
ex-wife's anus. He started thrusting and Elija started cranking the little
black box.
Connie jerked taunt against her bonds. She could feel the fat pole of
what she thought was cock in her ass. She was jerking around like she was out
of control. Her screams filled the cellar. She tried to look behind her to
see who was fucking her ass, then the voltage went up and she bellowed out a
tortuous cry.
Rich couldn't believe how tight his ex-wife's asshole was. He could feel
it through the rubber dick he was wearing. He was ramming it to her, trying
to hurt her. Had her hips in his hands, spreading her cheeks apart...Watching
his hard cock rip in and out of her asshole. Her body was spasaming around
like a dying animal, her screams turning him on to no end. Her anus was
twitching around the slab of rubber and meat he had buried in her and every
few moments he could feel the tingle of the electricity against his hands on
her hips.
Elija decided it wouldn't be worth a magic pill. The bitch wasn't going
to last much longer. He'd seen it all before and done it all before...A long,
long time ago, when he was working for that nemesis of American intelligence -
The KGB. He turned the voltage up to the max and started cranking the box
like a crazy man.
"Come on, stud...Fuck her good !" He yelled as he watched the man
standing on the packing crate, packing his ex-wife's fudge. The sweat was
starting to roll down his back and the woman was out of control...Non-stop
yelling and screaming, begging him to stop. At least that's what he thought
as all she was really making was a lot of noise. But, loud noise at that.
Elija cranked faster and the woman was now coming up off the saw horse, the
man behind her trying to keep the rubber cock plugged into her asshole.
With one loud, pain filled wail the two of them reached the apex of life
and death, light and dark. Rich started cuming, his semen dribbling down on
the packing crate. Connie voided herself again. Elija could see the liquid
shit dribbling down her legs, mixed with urine and the screams of the man
overcame the screams of the woman because she'd become still...Another shallow
grave in the desert.
***** CHAPTER TWO *****
I was sound asleep. I'd spent most of the evening packing dried bud into
plastic bags and getting real stoned. This harvest had been the best I'd ever
had. Beat the shit out of the stuff I was growing in Idaho. Fuck ! One
hit...No shit ! One hit and you're in outer space...I figured at least four
pounds. I had a shit load still drying down stairs. I was wiped out when I
went to bed at nine...Spent about ten minutes trying to read a letter from
Dale Haggerty. He was someplace in the Philippines...Shit ! He even sent
some pictures of himself, surrounded by all these young filipino women.
In my dreams, I was joining them...There, where it never got cold and the
waves were always warm and the women always horny and then...
"Wop...Wop...Wop...Wop...Wop." I was back in 'Nam and a helicopter was
moving off in the distance, close to the ground. It's sound reverberating
against the foliage and the cabin...Fuck ! I wasn't in 'Nam !? I jerked
awake and could just make out the sound receding from what I thought was the
front of the cabin. I sprang out of bed and rushed into the front room;
ripped open the sliding glass doors and peered out into the darkness. I
couldn't see shit but faintly heard the blades beating the sky...Faintly, the
pressure changed against my ear drums...I froze, not breathing, then only the
silence of the forest. I was positive, though. It was a fucking helicopter.
Now...What the...Oh ! Fuck !
I dashed to the bedroom, dragged my back pack out of the closet...tossed
it on to the bed and rushed to the kitchen; swept all the dope off the bar and
into a big baggie. I got the shit, I'd packed earlier, out of the ice box,
and crammed it into the baggie. Back to the bedroom...The tinkling of the
cans made me freeze. I rushed to the light switch and plunged the room into
darkness...Probably too late. I grabbed some clothes out of the drawer and
was into my long johns and jeans in seconds. A heavy jacket came out of the
closet.
I was getting my jacket on as I pulled the drapes apart and peered out
into the darkness behind the cabin. The moon came out from behind some clouds
and lit up the snow covered ground. I couldn't see a fucking thing. Fear was
surging through my mind, body, being...I was scared shitless ! Maybe I just
imagined it ? No ! That was the sound of a helicopter. I looked at my watch
in the light from the moon. Zero two hundred...A perfect time. A movement
caught my eye. I stared at it but it was nothing...I think ?
My brain was in over drive. There were tracks the other day in the snow
when I walked home from the general store. The military looking guy or maybe
he was a cop, paying a little too much attention to me while I ate lunch. He
looked familiar ?? Maybe not ??
#####
The helicopter set down in a clearing down by the road. Elija was
excited. So was Wayne Montana. Rich Clark was drained...Knew his ex-wife
wasn't going to magically appear tomorrow as if nothing had happened...Finally
realized that she was going to spend the rest...Rest of what ? Knew she'd
spend it in that shallow grave in the desert. Elija laughed to himself
looking at Rich as Wayne was talking on the cell phone.
"They'll be here in less than two minutes." The three of them moved off
toward the road. The helicopter hovered for a second and then disappeared
into the darkness. A large van was parked at the head of the dirt road,
leading to the cabin.
"Ok ! Fuckers...This is payback...I want the fucker alive...No fuck ups."
The lead men, dressed in black and wearing night vision gear, moved off down
the road. There were six of them, more than enough for one man. The six were
heavily armed with automatic weapons and stun grenades...Some frag grenades,
too; if things got out of control but Wayne didn't think that was going to
happen. He could hardly wait to wipe that silly grin off Tamarack's face.
Wayne, Elija and Rich moved on down the road behind them.
I sat in the middle of the bedroom and damn near shit my pants. The fear
was freezing me to the floor. I thought I heard another tinkle from the cans
behind the cabin and all of a sudden I was flooded with life, adrenaline
pumping through my veins. I crawled back over to the window and peered
outside. A movement over to the left. I was positive and stared just to the
right of it, saw a glint of moon light off something metallic.
I rolled away from the window, dug my binoculars out of the bottom drawer
and with it, my Christmas present from Carol. I leaned against the drawers
and checked the gun, grabbed a couple of extra rounds and shoved them in my
jacket pocket. I made sure the safety was on...No sense in shooting my foot
off, then crammed the gun into the waist of my jeans.
Wayne was talking on the cell phone again. Rich was showing more signs of
life and Elija was tremendously excited. Thoughts of having the Tamarack
woman to himself and turning her into the most vile, perverted thing on the
face of the earth flooded his mind. It'd been a long time...That Czech woman
in the late seventies...God ! She was a sexual animal and the Tamarack woman
reminded him so much of her.
"...Yea...Five minutes..." And then to the group in front of the cabin.
"One of the idiots in back stepped on a can or something but there hasn't been
any movement in the cabin. You guys sure what you're supposed to do ?" The
three darkly dressed men nodded in the light of the moon.
I moved to the bathroom, grabbed my pink pills along with some toiletries
and filled the back pack with some clothes...Remembered the cash in the closet
and shoved it into the back pack along with the rest of the shit. I slung it
on to my back and picked up the binoculars, moved to the front room and peered
out through the sliding glass doors. I raised the binoculars to my eyes and
focused on where the dirt road opened up into the parking area in front of the
cabin.
Fuck ! There they were. Clearly visible in the moon light. One, two,
three...Six of them and probably three or four behind the cabin. I slithered
to the trap door that led to the weed room and pried it up. I was down the
ladder and out of the back pack in seconds. I started prying the grill off
the exhaust fan and then ripped the fan and motor out of the shaft. It was
going to be a tight fit. The thought of me getting stuck in the pipe made me
shake with fear. I slung the back pack into the tube and then looked over the
farm one last time...My sea of green. The lights were still blazing and I
left them on. Then climbed back up the ladder.
Wayne Montana whispered into the cell phone. "Ok...Here goes." And then
lifted the bullhorn to his lips. "You there in the cabin...Federal officers.
Come out on to the porch with your hands on your head. Two minutes or we're
coming in to get you."
The sound scared the shit out of me and I didn't start understanding the
words until he started talking about coming out on to the front porch. Yea !
Fat, fucking chance, Wayne. I didn't recognize the voice but there was no
doubt in my military mind...You're toast, Montana. If I get out of here,
every news paper in the Western United States is going to get a copy of that
tape of you fucking and sucking with Carol and Monica and your buddies with
the girl scouts. Your career is finished, fucker ! Bill Clinton might escape
from something like that but you won't. I laughed but then stopped suddenly,
realizing the chances of me getting out of here were slim and none. Oh !
What the fuck...I'll go out in a blaze of glory...Who the fuck was I trying to
kid ?? Only myself !
***** CHAPTER THREE *****
"Ok...Ready in back ?" The answer came back in the affirmative. "Larry,
stitch out that glass door and before the glass hits the floor, I want a stun
grenade into the cabin. Then we go in...Ok ! Go !" The three of them moved
off into the parking area. Larry was flicking off the safety of the AR-15
while Doug pulled the pin on the grenade. Wayne was thinking, "It's all over
but the shouting, Tamarack." Rich was back to the real world and he and Elija
moved a little closer. The third agent moved off to the hill that led to the
porch at the side of the cabin. The men in back were already moving.
I was standing by the video room, right next to the trap door to the weed
room, had the binoculars to my eyes and saw them move out. "D" Day as I
recalled telling Mrs. Abernathy a long time ago. I crossed the room in three
or four large strides and flicked on the flood lights. That bathed the
parking area in a glow of sun light...Well, maybe not that bright but when I
saw the guys were wearing goggles, I knew I'd just evened up the odds a
little. They were blind men and it'd probably be several seconds if not a
minute or two before they could see again.
When the flood lights went on, Larry's aim was thrown off and he only put
about five rounds through the sliding glass doors. Doug already had his arm
cocked with the stun grenade but it went high and bounced off the front of the
cabin. It fell back into the parking area and went off with a terrible noise.
All six men in the parking area ended up on the ground with their hands trying
to dig the ringing out of their ears.
The automatic weapon's fire scared the shit out of me and I hit the floor
about half way back to the weed room. When the sound of the explosion entered
the cabin, I went deaf but then so was most everyone else. I rolled to my
side, pulled the gun from my jeans and loosed off three or four shots down
into the light of the parking area, not really aiming...Just to show them I
wasn't going like a lamb to the slaughter...Shit ! They fired first !
I was real close to the trap door when I felt the guy drop down on to the
porch. I look over and find this black figure picking his way through the
broken glass on the porch. I go head first down the ladder and end up in a
heap on the floor of the weed room, scramble up the ladder and pulled the trap
door closed. With my foot, I flick off the lights but realize that it'll be
several minutes until my night vision comes back.
I count to sixty and then push up on the trap door. There's no movement,
that I can see, and silence. Then from the parking area, "Get some first aid,
Larry's hit." I see movement...The dark figure is in the front room. I lower
the trap door and consider my options. Not many. Probably hit a federal
agent...Probably life to eternity...What the fuck !?
The men in the parking area are just now regaining their situation
awareness. The guy calling for help mistook Larry for one of the civilians
just tagging along for the ride but the misidentification was already fact.
Wayne Montana grabbed the bull horn and screamed into it. "Larry's dead !
Kill the mother fucker !"
Just seconds after he screamed the last word, Larry slithered up to him
and said. "Hey ! Boss, I'm ok...It was one of the civilian fucks." Rich
Clark lay, a crumpled heap, with a bullet right through his chin. The slug
skipped off a rock about a foot in front of his face and took out most of his
lower jaw...Blew the back of his head about twenty feet into the parking area.
The black clad figure, in the front room of the cabin, switched to
automatic and loosed an entire magazine around the room. He quickly reloaded
while kicking in the bedroom door, emptying half a magazine into the bedroom.
Oh ! Fuck ! I was scared. I could hear the bull horn, even with the
trap door closed and then the automatic weapons firing in the front room...The
tinkling of broken glass and things being torn up. When I heard the bedroom
door being kicked open I peeked out but saw nothing but night. Then the
fucker's legs entered the picture and I slid down the ladder and pushed my way
into the sea of green...My plants...My friends. I went to my stomach and held
the gun out in front of me.
The trap door comes up and several rounds are loosed down the ladder.
They bounce around the room. The guy says something but my ears are ringing
and I can't make it out. Then he starts down the stairs. I aim toward the
bottom of the ladder...Fat chance I'll hit a thing. I can sense him standing
in front of me and then he opens up, about waist high, into my plants.
I lose control of my bladder and pee my pants but was real glad to be
lying on the floor...Stalks of marijuana are falling all around me. Slugs
were ricocheting around the room. This guy obviously wasn't the sharpest
knife in the drawer. Somebody yells something from upstairs. I have no idea
what he said. My ears are ringing again. The agent is climbing back up the
ladder and then I hear a metallic sound of something bouncing off the ladder.
Oh ! Fuck ! A grenade rolls to within a foot of my face. What a shitty
way to go. I'm up in milliseconds, grab the fucking thing and heave it up
through the trap door. I hear an, "Oh ! Fuck !" and then a terrific
explosion. When the sound fades away, I can hear some moaning. I'm up the
ladder in a flash, peeking out.
The room is in flames There are two guys on the floor. One of them is
crawling toward his automatic pistol. He's black. I must have blinked fifty
times in a second. It's Carol's John, the valet parking guy at the Mirage or
Caesars...I can't remember. He reaches his gun and is moving it toward where
I'm peering at him from the trap door. Fuck you, cock ! Die, mother fucker !
I aim with both hands and squeeze until I hear the click of the hammer coming
down on an empty chamber. John's face and head disappear in an explosion of
flesh and blood and all that other shit.
I pull the trap door down behind me, jump to the floor and am into the
ventilation shaft, pushing my back pack in front of me. I feel the cooler air
and then struggle to push the tree trunk away from the vent opening. I'm out
and covering the opening again. My piss stained pants are cold against my
groin but I'm off, heading toward the mountain at a brisk clip only stopping
after counting to three hundred. I can see the cabin going up, not the flames
but the glow in the sky.
I turn and start trotting. That fucking helicopter might still be hanging
around !? I know I can't head over the higher passes. If there's six inches
of snow at this level, there will be three, maybe four times that higher up.
I look to the sky, take a nav fix off the big dipper, turn south and start out
again. I keep to the military crest and in the trees as much as possible.
***** CHAPTER FOUR *****
I walked all night and only held up as the sun started to rise. I hadn't
heard any pursuit and not a sound from the helicopter. Finding a cubby hole
in some rocks, I shove my back pack into it. I sit with my back against the
back pack, reload my weapon and almost immediately fall asleep.
#####
Erin O'Connel Tamarack got the call about nine the next morning. She was
fiddling with some shit ass paper work in her office. The man on the other
end of the phone was one of her police contacts...She'd met him through a good
friend of hers, one of the officers she'd worked with in the past when she was
with the L.A.P.D. He wanted to know if she'd heard anything about a big drug
bust...Major cultivation...Up in the mountains...DEA involvement...Word is,
there were several deaths...DEA's not very forth coming about it.
Seconds later she has Carol on the line. "Be outside in five minutes."
Eight minutes later, Carol gets in the Mercedes and they head for the
cabin. Erin outlines what she heard and Carol gets out her cell phone and
makes several calls. Erin only hears half the conversations but immediately
knows Carol's "friends" don't have a clue. At least, that's what they're
saying ?!
The two of them are silent as they drive by the dirt road that leads to
the cabin. There are several black and whites blocking the road and some
uniforms are standing at the side of the road. Erin accelerates after passing
the black and whites.
"What the fuck are you doing ? We're part owners...We have a right to
know what's happening on our property. Turn around."
"You realize Willy could be dead ?"
"Fuck him ! He knew the risk. Let's demand some answers !"
"Shut the fuck up, Carol. Willy was growing a ton of weed up here. This
is the last place in the world we want to be. This is what I get paid to
do...Get fucking stupid people out of jams with the law...And you stay off the
phone with your wise guy friends...Understand ?" Carol nodded and the two of
them remained silent as they drove back to Las Vegas.
They meet at the condo, well after dark and huddled in the bedroom. Erin
had spent the majority of the day trying to get some information out of her
contacts. No information was forth coming due to the usual...Until the
families have been notified. Carol was antsy, depressed and just moped
around. Erin tried to formulate a plan. Carol was no help at all, telling
Erin not to waste her time. Their creative genius was gone. Who knows where
he was ? Erin finally lost her temper and the two women argued then separated
to sleep in different bedrooms. Erin hears the phone ring and barges in on
Carol. She quickly slams down the phone.
The lines of coke are still visible on the mirror on the night stand.
"You stupid cunt ! What the fuck are you doing ?"
"Fuck you, Erin. I need to get laid. Do you good, too. You know the
fucker's dead or in some jail cell getting his butt fucked off. Fuck ! He
was getting soft...All that young pussy was going to his brain...Didn't have
it in him. He's fucking dead, Erin. Come on...Let's party ! Celebrate him
going out with a bang !" She started laughing, hysterically.
Erin went back to her room and climbed into bed. She heard Carol going to
the front door about twenty minutes later. The commotion in the front room
caused her to almost leap out of bed. When she entered the front room, Carol
was yelling up a storm. A couple of guys in suits were just inside the front
door. One of the suits had a hold of Carol; she was dressed in practically
nothing. Her lush body clearly visible, breasts almost bare, her areolae all
crinkly, nipples erect. Her bush was a forest on her lower stomach. The two
suits were getting a charge out of it and only let her go when Erin called
across the room.
"Hope you fuckers have a warrant signed by a real powerful judge here in
the Valley. The DEA doesn't have a real good reputation here. I'm Erin
Tamarack, a practicing attorney in good standing here in Nevada. My boss, Ron
Lyster can be here in ten minutes if you're more comfortable talking with a
man. I'm sure he'll understand why you're molesting a half dressed women in
her home."
The two suits backed away from Carol and she rushed off to her room, tears
streaming down her face. Erin watched her go and thought, "Shit ! The cunt's
losing it and I thought she was the strong one ?!"
One of the suits asked. "I thought she was Mrs. Tamarack ?"
"We're sisters." Erin shot back. "I want to see some I.D....Now ! Or
you two may end up staying the night at one of our lovely detention facilities
here in Las Vegas."
The two suits fumbled with their wallets and Erin carefully copied down
their names. The two of them fenced for a bit and finally asked Erin to come
down to the morgue and try to identify the body of a Willy Tamarack. Erin
left Carol in her room and went to get dressed.....
.....Both bodies were burned beyond recognition. One has his entire head
blown off but the coroner tells Erin he's black. Not Willy ! The other, a
caucasian male, also has sever head damage from what appeared to be small
arms. He was about Willy's size and had what appeared to be a broken ankle.
The heat of the fire had caused the bone to crack a little at the fracture.
Erin asks whether he has a broken right ankle. The coroner nods. "Hard
to tell how long ago ?" Erin remembers Willy breaking an ankle playing
football when he was thirteen, fourteen...Neighborhood rivals...Willy was
faster than the wind but not after he spent six weeks in a cast...One leg
always thinner than the other...Not that you'd notice...But it was his left
ankle.
She identifies the caucasian as Willy.
The DEA guys want to ask her some questions. Twenty minutes later, after
a lot of bullshit, Erin drove back to the condo. The fuckers were fishing.
She was positive. The only question that bordered on anything incriminating
was, "Were you aware he was cultivating marijuana ?"
"What proof of that do you have ? Got some bales...A couple of ounces ?
What ?" The interview ended shortly thereafter. Back at the condo, Erin
heard the sounds of fucking coming through the walls as she stripped off her
clothes and dressed in the darkest sweat suit she could find. It was a little
after midnight when she sped away from the condo and drove a crazy pattern
throughout almost all Las Vegas until she was positive she wasn't being
followed. She stopped at a gas station way up on Rancho and then continued on
toward the cabin.
After parking near the general store, she made her way down the trail. It
was close to two a.m. It was slow going as clouds obscured the sky and it was
darker than shit. She found the cabin was burned to the ground and walked
down the road until she found one cop parked up by the highway. Erin crouched
down behind some bushes and watched for almost an hour; was positive he was
the only guard.
It took her over an hour to find the ventilation shaft and almost as long
to roll the log away from the opening. Erin wiggled into the shaft with the
gas can in front of her. She wondered how Willy made it out but then realized
he was probably scared to death and she'd seen a lot of people do some pretty
impossible things when they're scared. The weed room was intact although she
was sure automatic fire had cut down all the bushes. She opened the gas can
and doused it good; crawling back up the shaft after she finished. Up in the
fresh air, she used the last of the gas to douse a tennis ball...Torched it
and rolled it down the shaft.
Erin felt the concussion of the room igniting and then the heat pouring
out of the shaft. She sat there for a bit warming herself as the farm went
up. Let those fuckers get any evidence out of that inferno ! She struggled
to her feet when the heat died out and looked up at the mountain. She
wondered how he was doing ? Awfully fucking cold up here !
It was dawn before she arrived back at the condo. It was quiet and Erin
was sure Carol would be sleeping it off. She peeked in the bedroom and found
Carol alone. Thank God ! She didn't need any stupid fucks around. Thoughts
of Willy filled her head as she stripped off her sweaty, dirty clothes. The
shower felt great and she started singing a song she and Willy used to sing
when they were going to grammar school together...The dawn of rock and roll !
Carol rips the curtain aside. "What are you so fucking happy about ?"
"Willy..." Erin stopped short after almost yelling his name. She was
about to tell Carol that he made it out. That he's on the loose somewhere but
decided to keep it to herself.
[Continued in]
"The Shit Hits the Fan"
[part two]
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