This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between characters portrayed and real persons alive or dead is entirely coincidental.

This story will contain scenes of sexual activity including between adult males, and between adult males and a late teenage boy. If you are under 18 or material of this nature is illegal in your present location, please leave now. By continuing to read on, you are confirming that it is legal for you to view the material in this story

This story is copyright to Arapiles, 2019.

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This is my second story for Nifty, so I guess I should be getting better. This is the final chapter. All is revealed.

My first story on Nifty is here;

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/inkerman-street/

I welcome feedback, please send to arapileswriter92@gmail.com

Thanks

Arapiles

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CHAPTER 6 – ATONEMENT

 

"Dad?"

Woz remained silent, his head bowed. He could not look his son in the eye.

"Dad?! It's bullshit Dad...tell me it's bullshit!"

My man didn't move, only his shoulders betraying his inner turmoil. The boy was breathing fast now, hyperventilating while his Dad remained silent as the grave. I didn't want to, but I felt I had to make the running. For both our sakes.

"It's true Mikey. Why would I lie? I told you I'm not a good guy, far from it. I'm just sorry you got mixed up in this."

"How...how did you do it?"

"It was hard, but also easy. When I got thrown out of the army, my life hit the skids. I'd been drinking pretty hard since we got deployed, and it got worse after...after what happened. When I got home, all I did was drink. It was easier than thinking."

"I was about ready to neck myself when Maximilian came along. I won't lie and say I had no choice, but I did have very little left inside of a good man I once was. It's not an excuse, but it is a reason. Once I had done it for a while, it became harder to stop."

"Dad?" My Woz finally lifted his head, eyes full of pain. He let out a sigh that came from the depths of his feet.

"I'm sorry son. I'd like to say it was harder than it was, but it wasn't. I didn't drink, but I did get into pills...all sorts. Eventually the army kicked me out, and I was not much better than Brian. When Max came along, I didn't give a damn anymore, I just wanted to live and have back what I lost. I never thought...I never thought I'd see Brian again, but when I did, and he was like me, I decided to leave well alone and keep doing what I was doing. Until you...until you came along...I tried, I really did..."

"Here I was thinking I had let you down Dad, and I didn't know how to tell you. I thought you might leave me, kick me out or run off...fuck."

"Well son it's fair to say you probably have a pass next time you fuck up."

"You think? What next time anyway...these guys that want you...neither of us is getting out of this, are we Dad?"

"I'm sorry Mikey...I wish I could say something better, but it's all I've got."

We sat for a while longer, talking occasionally, but mostly silent. Woz looked at me...and I could see it all in his eyes. Indecision, fear, pleading. He really had lost the ability to read me, I realised. Then again, back in the day, I never would have seen Woz doing what we had done. Both of us had changed.

My phone rang, and I hit answer.

"Hey Warwick."

"Everything clear?"

"Yeah, you nearby?"

"Just outside."

"Come on up. Number 23."

The stares from Woz got darker and more urgent. Looking over, I saw that Mikey had his stare too. I shut it out for now.

There was a soft knock on the door, and I padded over to it. The peephole gave me enough vision to see it was definitely Warwick; the tall man had a grin from ear to ear, white his black skin and his eyes were twitching the way they did when he was contemplating a kill. He was my contact, my controller. My cutout between me and Maximilian, his heavy body and shining bald head was a familiar sight.

"Looking good Brian. Well well well...who do we have here then?"

He had given Woz a cursory glance, then stepped over to the boy. Mike tried to shy away, but his bindings held him tight to the bed.

"Who the fuck are you?"

I had to grin then. The kid had some fight.

"Need to teach this boy some manners Woz. Who'd have thought it...Woz a dad. Took us by surprise I can tell you. So, you tried to go straight for the sprog hey Woz?"

"Fuck you Warwick."

"You wish Woz...you wish."

"You're one of Dad's killer friends then?" the boy spat, anger keeping him going.

Warwick didn't like that at all, recoiling slightly and staring at me and Woz.

"And which of you gentlemen has been telling tales now?"

I saw Woz about to speak, and realised I needed to get in first.

"I did Warwick. I wanted to see if Woz would play ball, in case he had been turned by the opposition. Telling the boy was part of it; plus I wanted to see how Woz would take it when the kid knew what was coming. I think he's genuine...it really was all about Mike."

Warwick nodded, apparently satisfied.

"I do too Brian, but you know Maximilian. He doesn't like surprises, they make him edgy. He tends to be keen not to have any repeats."

"W...what are you going to do...?" the boy was terrified now, his eyes wide.

"Well young man, now you know, I guess there's no point beating round the bush is there? We were going to have a talk to your Dad here, make sure there were no loose ends, before we killed him. Must admit I was looking forward to strapping Mr Sparky to your Dad's nuts kid; always were a loser Woz. But now you're here...I think we might be involving you in the little chat. After all...your Dad clearly wants to protect you. Never could be sure if he was telling the truth if it was just him. But with Mr Sparky attached to your nuts boy..."

The killer reached out to stroke Mike, his grin getting wider and more feral by the second. Woz struggled, screaming obscenities, but it didn't stop Warwick. He played with the boy's hair, almost as gentle as a lover, then let his fingers slide down Mike's chest, playing with his nipples before stroking all the way to his groin. One fingertip scraped his scrotum suggestively while the boy squirmed and begged. Then he slid his finger under the boy's scrotum to play with his ass. He stopped then though, pulling his finger out and sniffing.

"Have you broken him in Brian?"

"Maybe."

Warwick chuckled at that.

"You really are one in a million Brian. You know, I had my doubts. I thought you might bottle it when it came to shafting Woz here. Max knew different; got to hand it to him, he knows his stuff. 'Trust me...Brian will do it.' Should have known he was right. Still, fucking his son to get him to talk...I underestimated you. Very well."

The man stood back, pulling out his phone. I tried to look nonchalant while he dialled.

"Max. Yeah, all good. We have them both nicely trussed up. Straight away? Fine, we'll be there in twenty. I will."

Then he put it away and pulled out his keys.

"Max says well done, by the way. He's eager to meet you again. Think you might like what he has to say. First thing's first though; help me get these two into the van."

"Where's the van?"

"In the carpark downstairs. I used your spot...hope you don't mind."

"How did you get here so quickly anyway?"

"We weren't far away when your call came. When Woz started using his contacts, we got a hit straight away. We knew you were on track, so we decided to come straight here. Got to the warehouse not long ago; I got a rental van from the airport. Sat Nav and all; makes it easier. Just programmed in...already got it set for the return leg so we can go fast if we need it."

"Great Warwick...well organised as always..."

He was looking at Mike, his eyes drinking in the by like a tasty beverage, so he had no warning. The Beretta came out from under my jacket, the barrel lengthened by the squat bulk of a suppressor, screwed on just before he arrived. Three shots, dead on target, the sound loud but slightly restrained, a loud 'pfut' rather than a whipcrack. Warwick fell to the floor without even crying out, a pool of blood already forming under him as he twitched and then lay still.

The man and boy stared at the body, then at me. It was Woz who got his voice back first.

"I was beginning to doubt you."

"I know Woz. I wanted you a little uncertain, enough so you would be convincing. I'm sorry Mikey, I needed you very convincing, and I couldn't take a chance so I had to play it out with you not knowing."

"You...you..."

"He's dead Mikey. You are safe, as much as you can ever be."

"You killed him!"

"Yes kid. That's what it's like to kill someone up close. I hope you never learn what it's like yourself. Ever."

He broke down then, the stress too much, shaking and crying like a baby. I didn't blame him.

"Brian, you had better untie us quick. We have to get going fast, if Max is here Rocket and Benny will be too, and they will be here fast once you are overdue and Warwick doesn't report in. We need to be a long way away before then."

"No Woz."

"I don't understand." I saw his eyes narrow. He didn't get it.

"That's not how its playing out Woz."

"What the fuck are you talking about Brian? What is this shit?"

"I'm not going with you. I'm going to see Max."

"Are you fucking insane!" Now he knew. His eyes were wide, the whites showing like a beacon.

"No Woz...sanest I've been since Fallujah. It ends now Woz...time to atone for my sins."

"Brian! Don't do this! You can come with us, we can start again..."

"It's a nice fantasy Woz, but you know it won't work. You need the clear air, and a chance for a fresh start, and it won't come any other way. You have made a mark on life, something worth fighting for. Don't blow it."

"Brian! Fucking stupid asshole so help me stop fucking around!"

I walked to my man, his eyes telling me he knew it all now, though he hadn't accepted it. I pulled his head to mine, my hands in his hair one last time, and kissed him, hard and hungry. He returned the kiss, moans lost in our embrace. Then I pulled back, suckling his lip until I let it go finally with a look of regret. Then I went to Mikey.

"Forgive me boy, if you can. And forget me. I ask one favour though...look after him for me. And stay away from bad boys...fuck them if you have to, but don't fall for them. Find a nice boring accountant and fuck him until he won't want anyone else. That horsecock deserves to be savoured by someone."

"Brian...I don't understand..."

Now I reached for the boy, and gave him a kiss. Not as hot, not as sensual, but a kiss.

"You will Mikey, your Dad will tell you. And, you will see soon...keep an eye on the papers..."

I turned to Woz one last time, my stud lost for words, tears all he could manage. I pulled a small key from my pocket, nondescript but important. I tossed it to him.

"First national Bank of Montreal, main branch. Safe deposit box number 2217. Enough in gold bars and industrial diamonds to get you clear. You are Mr Rawlings by the way..."

That got a response, a half smirk.

"Thought you would appreciate the name. Stay low and wait. You will know when it's all ok."

"Are you going to untie me at least?"

"No Woz, I don't trust you not to follow. Someone will be round to let you out once I'm safely away."

Rodrigo would earn the last of his thousand dollars. Now I had to move though, and fast. Picking up Warwick's body, I slung him over my shoulder and headed for the carpark, and number 23. A big black van was parked in my spot, and it opened automatically when I pressed the key the killer dropped when he died. Stowing the body in the back, I sat in the driver's seat and keyed up the Sat Nav. About 13 miles; my own road to Golgotha. I had time for one last phonecall, and I kept it quick. There wasn't much left to say; the barman knew what he needed to, and as to his questions, I didn't have time for answers.

The traffic was light this time of night, and I made it there quickly. A nondescript warehouse on the edge of town, in a rundown industrial zone half demolished. A fitting place I guessed; and further proof that you couldn't judge a book by its cover. No one would bother looking here.

I parked the van in a vacant spot and headed for the doorway. The sign bore the name I recognised; this was the place. The doorknob turned when I tried it, and I walked into the darkness, heading for the one patch of light on the far wall, a small office by the look of it.

They looked up when I came in, my boss still elegant, still impeccably dressed. The two guards, one tall, one stocky like a prizefighter were there too, Benny a bit bulkier than last time, Rocket a little greyer.

"Well, long time no see Brian. We will have to do something about that though wont we boys. You are looking a lot better than when I last saw you. A lot leaner too...must be taking care of yourself."

The prizefighter grunted, his nose flaring under the assault of a heavy snort. The taller killer just looked disinterested, a kind of bored half smile on his face.

"So...where is Warwick? And our guests?"

"Warwick is in the van keeping an eye on them. I need some help, can you let me borrow Rocket and Benny?"

"Benny should be enough. Go with him Ben...Rocket, get the chair ready for our guests. I think the boy can go first yes?"

Now Rocket was smiling as he moved to make his preparations. The bulkier killer just grunted, again, and headed for the door. I followed right behind.

"They in the back?"

"Yep."

He heaved on the sliding door, slamming it open in a second. I saw him give a small start, as he took in the sight of Warwick's body lying in a pool of blood in the back.

My combat knife was silent, slicing into his neck from the side, severing arteries and windpipe in one move. He gurgled softly, jerking against me, and I held him as best I could, as he was more bulky even than Warwick. Then I laid his body in the back of the van, gently, the two united for the moment in death. My jacket was covered in blood, so I threw it over them and headed back to the warehouse.

I took a few deep breaths before running across the expanse of darkness heading for the light. Rocket had sensed danger though, and was almost ready, his gun in his hand, his expression no longer so bored. Maximilian was still at his unruffled elegant best; that didn't last long once he saw me, jacket gone, blood spatters on my pants, and a Beretta in my hands.

"Brian? What is going on? Where are Benny and Warwick...."

"Dead Max. It's over."

Now his eyes were wide, and they were not kind. Rocket had his gun on me, and I had mine on the leader. For now, it was a standoff. Max held his hands out, palms up, and slowly got to his feet.

"Let's talk this through shall we Brian? Whatever it is that has prompted this...issue, we can resolve it I'm sure. What happened?"

I smiled a sad smile then. What happened...ahhh such a simple question.

"What happened? Fallujah..."

Max snorted then.

"That stupid memoir of yours. You never got past the first line if I remember. Fallujah was a long time ago Brian...and those kids were just collateral damage in a war no one can win."

"It was a long time ago Max, so long I didn't work it out right away. You knew, didn't you. You knew everything."

"It's my business to know things Brian. It's why I'm good at what I do."

"Only five guys were there. Me, Woz, Sanchez, Richards, and the Lieutenant. Woz never told, nor did I. Sanchez and Richards died over there, one a sniper, one an IED. That only left one..."

"Nice detective work Brian...flawed, but nice..."

"Flawed my ass. You are right, I never could get beyond the first line. So a month ago, I did what I always should have done. I went to see someone who can write, and who would be interested. An investigative reporter. Its amazing what you can find out...between our different sources of information."

Maximilian blinked now, uncertainty starting to grow. I saw Rocket staring, his teeth bared, but he held off for now. He was well trained, and until Max knew where this was going he wouldn't call the shot.

"Ok, now you have me interested Brian. What the hell possessed you?"

I ignored him for a moment, part of me perversely craving a cigarette.

"In the hills outside Fallujah there lies a grave. In it, there are five young kids, who we shot. A patrol led by Lieutenant Rawlings, a green as grass West Pointer with a powerful Dad, in over his head, trying to prove himself as a soldier and killing unarmed civilians by accident. Except, that wasn't exactly how it went down, was it Max?"

"You tell me Brian..."

"It wasn't a patrol. It was payback. The contractors were employed by Meriwether International, now one of the largest providers of base security services to the armed forces, and a company with a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. Meriwether had been paying off local groups to attack convoys run by its competitors, so it could win more contracts. The locals balked at more attacks though, it was too dangerous with so many troops in the city, so Meriwether sent in their heavies. The locals didn't know what else to do so they kidnapped them instead."

"The lieutenant knew exactly where to go...exactly. Because it had been the meeting place for Meriwether's payoffs. Instead, we found the kids...and the young lieutenant decided to send a message instead. A message for his Daddy...retired major General Rawlings, the largest shareholder in Meriwether through a series of trusts in the Caymans."

"Nice story Brian...did it take you and your journalist long to make this shit up..."

"Of course, Meriwether used other methods to get its way. Industrial espionage...extortion, murder, whatever it took. All, of course, orchestrated by someone very good at that..."

"We have lots of clients like that Brian, you know it..."

"None of the others are owned by your half-brother though."

Now there was silence.

"Yes...I should have seen the resemblance. I was still drying out when I met you that time Max...but I can see it now. Lieutenant Rawlings had the same eyes, and the same face. He even sounded a lot like you. Tell me, did you take me and Woz on to keep us under control or to get us killed?"

He was frightened now, but he kept it well in check. I could see the twitch in his cheek getting faster though.

"To keep you under our watch and kill you if we had to. Also, you would be so compromised, if you did decide to talk, no one would believe you. I didn't ever think you would be able to dig that deep though...you were better than I thought Brian, I'll give you that much credit."

"Fuck credit!" I screamed it out, spittle flying across the office.

"You gave a fine speech when I saw you that first time Max. Pity it was all a lie. We were the ones feasting on the sheep all along...we were the enemy. We were working for you in that basement in Fallujah...we were doing your bidding even when we were dying slowly back home, we were doing it working for you...all the time working for the guys who fucked us over in the first place."

"You are no fucking saint Brian. You have plenty of blood on your hands, and you were paid very well for it. Spare me the road to Damascus shit, you are no better than me."

"I know. I am no better Max; we will enjoy hell together, you and I. This isn't for me. This is for the kids in Fallujah, and the other guys in our unit. They deserved better, and I failed them. And it's for Mike...he will be a better man, and I can still save him."

"Why now you asshole? Why fucking now?" The man was raving, his eyes wild and mad. I guess he deserved to know.

"Nice of you to notice how good I'm looking Max. Looks can be deceiving. Cancer...liver, lungs, pancreas, the whole nine yards. I found out a month ago. I don't know if it was the cigs, the booze, the depleted uranium or just one of those things. I'm fucked, months at most. You were right about one thing at least Max...a guy with nothing left to lose is a dangerous thing. I'm just sorry I took so long to do it right. Now its time to pay the piper."

"Fuck you Brian!"

"No Max, fuck you!"

He turned to Rocket, about to give the word, and I got in first, just. Two rounds into Max and he went down, before I felt the hammer blow to the chest and a searing pain that grew and grew. I ignored it long enough to get two more rounds into Rocket, the tall killer screaming as a slug tore into his shoulder then dropping the gun when a second hit his chest.

I realised I was on the ground then, and nothing worked, I couldn't move. My heart was beating fast, thump thump thump...but nothing else was working. Well, my eyes were I guess...I could see Max slumped against a desk, one red circle in his head, the other in his throat, with his eyes glazed over. I tried to laugh.

Well, head held high, eyes wide open. Even got 'Fuck you'. Not bad....wish you could have seen it Mikey...then again, better not. Wish your Dad was here though....ahhhh Woz.....my Woz........forgive me....

A beautiful young stud laid out for me, his skin shining with sweat. Our tent was cramped, and hot like a furnace, but I didn't mind...it meant Woz went naked, like me, and I saw his exposed body, the way his cock sort of pulsed, semi hard. I knew what was making it move. He stirred, moaning, and looked over at me with a grin.

"Hey Sarge...any chance of some morning fun?"

"I thought you'd never ask Woz..."

He lay back, relaxed, that grin broadening as I reached for his cock, and cupped his testicles, rolling them in the velvet bag of his sack. Soft little sighs...and a throaty moan as I licked out his tip still barely inside his foreskin, my long pointed tongue coming in use to service my stud, lapping at his tip inside its hiding place then suckling his head as his cock reached full erection and his beautiful fat purple head swelled in my mouth. Straight my ass...

"I'm here Sarge...always..."

"Thanks Woz...don't leave me...please..."

"Never Sarge...never..."

*****

Reuters: New York, 11:05 EST, 11/09/2013

Officials in Merson City were baffled by a grisly discovery today. Five bodies were found at a warehouse in an industrial estate on the edge of the city after locals reported gunshots. The exact circumstances are unknown.

Later today however, it emerged that the killings may be linked to one of the largest military contractors in the country. Unconfirmed reports suggest that one of the victims was the half-brother of retired Major General Clayton B Rawlings, owner of Meriwether International.

Dane Stephens, an investigative reporter for the New York Times, is believed to know the circumstances surrounding the case, and has been assisting the FBI with their enquiries. There are rumours of potential Grand Jury hearings in the Federal Court as early as this week.

More to follow.