And So Shall He Suffer…
And So Shall He Suffer…
One dreary night I was driving on a highway that seemed to stretch right off the face of the earth and drop off into an endless, dark and cold void…
This is my tale
I've been driving for what seems like weeks. Yet, I've only been living out of my car for the last five days. It's been a hell of a long time since I last slept. Seventy-one hours and forty-three minutes to be exact. The longest I've been stopping for is about twenty minutes, at the most. When I do stop, I usually stock up on coffee and a lot of cheeseburgers, refuel the Bronco, and then call in to the criminal division. That's when I received an update on the case I'm working on. They usually have something new for me. I can always pick up a lead after calling in. In this particular case, I uncovered some startling new evidence. It was understood that the fugitive I was after had made a convenient stop. About seven miles away in a rural town outside of Hopi, Arizona were the remains of a small "Mom-N-Pop" general store. That was hideous mark left by the Jacobson gang. After hanging up and paying for the gas, I took off for Hopi like a shot. The siren on my truck screaming like a banshee, while I did a quiet 90 down the slippery highway. The rain from the previous night had the flames out in what was left of the store. It had started to rain just three hours before I got there. When I arrived I was briefed by a short, burly man, Sheriff Wilkes was the man's name. His crew called him "Coach", so did I after meeting him. Coach showed me what was left of the victims. Apparently, there were two people in the store when Jacobson showed up. There was a woman working the counter and a customer.
The woman's name was Ida Johnson, the other was a male Caucasian, I.D. unknown. He was apparently paying for gas, a case of beer and cigarettes. Breakfast of Champions. At this time, Edward Jacobson, himself, had walked in. Eddie was holding a pulsar grenade in one hand and an UZI 9mm in the other. He screamed something about taking the victim's money killing them. I've known Eddie for years, this is typical of him. That's when the anonymous eyewitness fled the scene. Obviously Eddie later forced the grenade into the male customer's mouth and detonated it. He then put the barrel of the gun to the woman's nose and joyfully squeezed the trigger.
After what I know about Eddie, I can easily tell what his next move is going to be. Eddie used to work for the CIA in the far east. He sold some Iranians the plan to construct their very own MX missile. He then set up the funding for the project. He started his own little civil war, how nice for him.
Someone turned in him, his superior, General O'Horde. The General was a great friend of mine, before Eddie slaughtered him. That's why I gladly took this assignment. After Eddie was charged and jailed, he escaped, big surprise there.
I've been doing this job for close to five years. My title is Tracker, if you will. I'm very good at my job. I'm only about three hours behind them. I called in and found out they went to their headquarters. I'm on my way there to pick up as many of the gang as I can fit in the cage in the back of my truck.
Eddie will ride in the back seat wearing a straight-jacket and pants. I'm going to leave one of his hands untouched for identification purposes. I haven't quite decided what I'll do with the rest of him.
I just pulled up to their warehouse.
-Goodbye Eddie.
