Chapter 20.
We finally heard back from police detective Dolores King in New Orleans during our long drive home from Colorado, she had two video files from the hotel pool deck camera. She said she was going to upload them and email us the link.
David profusely thanked her and was semi-honest about why he wanted the recordings, that he'd been drugged. He promised he would come to New Orleans to thank her but I don't think she took his promise seriously.
That evening at 9:30pm the videos were available so we downloaded both of them into our computer.
It took a while to recognize ourselves on the low-res video and locate his beer glass beside the pool ladder. Like most outdoor cameras this one switched into B&W after the sun went down, but despite the low resolution I identified David by the two dark circles on his chest.
We saw when his beer was delivered and who delivered it, then we played it at x4 speed to watch for anyone who came near the glass, which stood about four feet from the ladder.
He said he guzzled half of it right away then set it on the deck beside the pool and didn't touch it again for a while and he never saw anything wrong in the bottom of the glass.
About ten minutes after his drink was delivered we saw a man slowly walk by, and then we saw his beer foam-up again and had to assume that was when it happened but neither of us recognized or remembered the guy, he never came back. Luckily, the video had decent face shots as he walked toward the pool deck exit. It took me half an hour but I captured four really good still frame shots that showed his face, then I saved those images and sent them to our phones. First, we used Google image search and got thirty one hits, so we tried the DOD database which included forty nine state's driver's license images, passport records, and booking photos. From that search we got five hits but one seemed to match a guy who lived in New Orleans and worked at the hotel. David pointed out his shirt had what looked like two oval patches and suggested he was some kind of maintenance guy.
The next day we used the DOD database to get demographic info about our suspect and found he had an arrest record for domestic assault and DUI. He was employed as janitorial staff at the hotel on the evening shift; when he dropped the pill into David's beer he only had three more hours left on his work shift.
With our cases we got on an afternoon flight to Dallas then a connecting flight to New Orleans and called the detective who had helped us. She met us at the hotel lobby and he handed her a printout from the secret DOD database for the five most wanted fugitives in New Orleans (NO) and she was thrilled, we shook hands and she left. Basically, we did all her work except an apprehension. All of them had reward offers. If she applied for the rewards it would earn her an easy ten grand in tax free cash.
Next, we checked into the hotel again under assumed names (with DOD issued fake passports) and paid with the anonymous DOD credit card. We booked two nights and said we were there for the NFL Draft show and party at the Superdome.
We parked our asses at a table by the pool and sat there watching for our target (and wet bodies in the pool), not even sure if he worked today. I had a spider with sleep gas holding onto my shoe laces and our pelican case was between David's feet.
Fifty minutes later the guy we were looking for exited an unmarked door on the far side of the pool area and walked across the deck. He had on a navy blue hotel maintenance uniform and looked like he was focused on something he needed to do. I quickly released the spider on my shoe, it ran over by the exit and jumped onto his pant leg when he walked by. We watched on our glasses as the spider climbed up to his belt and secured itself on his back side and started mapping the hotel first floor.
"You sure you wanna do this?" I asked.
"Yep, mother fucker poisoned me, I take that shit personally. He's too dangerous to be walking around in public."
"Okay, this one's for you." I replied.
I knew he had one of our Zombie Slasher knives (we bought them on Ebay but modified the blade and the tip for this use) in his pocket which would be the likely cause of the young man's unanticipated trip to the Pearly Gates.
Our target entered a large, empty convention hall. It was a very large carpeted room, maybe eighty feet by eighty feet with thirty foot ceilings. He was soon operating some kind of industrial carpet cleaner, pushing it back and forth like mowing the lawn.
I asked if this was it and David said yes, we should go now. We got up from the pool deck and walked across the lobby and down a hallway to the expo center and found the empty hall that was being cleaned, I paced around outside the doors while he went inside. The guy running the carpet cleaner was listening to music with earphones while he steered the large electric cleaning machine in rows like a lawn mower.
As David quietly entered the room I closely examined the area for security cameras but saw nothing except blank ceiling tiles. It also looked like this part of the complex was built before fire sprinklers were required.
When I saw David enter the room I told the spider via a keyboard command to come to me immediately. It jumped down off the guy's belt and ran across the carpeted hall. I didn't see what happened but I'd watched it before and it wasn't pretty.
David actually put a lot of effort into minimizing fear and pain for every perp. Judging by their reaction I'd say most of them barely felt the blade but definitely felt an impact.
A few moments later a woman in a dress came down the hallway looking like she was lost and the door to the empty conference room was the last one in this hallway. "Lookin for the ladies room?" I asked with a smile. She nodded 'yes,' so I pointed back towards the main lobby. "They're near the elevators." She smiled and said thank you.
Twenty seconds later our spider was holding onto my shoe laces (I reached down and turned it off and dropped it in my shirt pocket). David came out of the hall doors and already had the knife put away, hands in his pockets. We quickly left the area and went to our room and ordered food. I saw dried blood on his right hand and a few spots on his shoes.
I put his shoe in the sink and washed off the spots while he took a shower.
We were never contacted by police in the hotel. After his shower David told me he watched him through the crack between the doors and when he started pushing the carpet machine away from the doors he silently slipped in the large conference room, tiptoed up behind him with his zombie slasher palmed in his right hand. He quickly caught up with him, but the guy was unaware since he was listening to music on his cell with his earphones. David caught up to him and yanked out his earphones and told him we saw on video when he dropped a pill into a beer glass by the pool ladder and the guy suddenly had a horrified look on his face, then got angry. The carpet machine kept going but slowed to a snail's pace since his hands were off the steering bar. Before the guy could come up with some kind of denial David reached up (like he was going to itch his face) with the knife hidden in his hand then with one fast movement he stabbed the side of the guy's neck which made him stagger backwards and fell against the running carpet machine.
He said he cleanly severed the carotid artery because blood shot almost two feet straight up for the first few pumps then slowly got weaker as his tank ran low. He said he also severed his right side neck muscle because he suddenly couldn't keep his head up and was probably why he couldn't stand.
An hour after the incident in the convention hall we went down to the pool and hung out in the deep end and had beers and talked to other boy-x-boy couples and had a very nice time. We saw police in the lobby but pretended to be busy doing our own stuff. The cops in the lobby and in the convention part of the hotel became the topic of discussion in the pool.
The next day we went back to the petting zoo with the go-go boy dancers but didn't do lap dances and we sat at a table instead of the bar. The last dancer of the evening was rather muscular but mostly smooth; David was smitten by his tummy and flawless belly button. While he was doing a lap dance near us David walked by and ran his hand over the kid's lower stomach then dropped twenty bucks in the bucket. The go-go-guy looked about 24 years old.
At the gay bar we texted our detective friend Dolores, she was working that shift so we said we'd drop by because we had something for her. Before this trip we did some research and the best we could find out was she probably earned about $71k a year as a 15+ year N.O. police detective.
Dolores walked outside with a big smile, she asked why we weren't in the Quarter gettin' drunk. David told her we just left there drunk, then we all laughed.
David shook her hand and said he greatly appreciated her help getting the videos and hoped the list of fugitives we gave her could be rounded up easily and make her look like the best "D" in the city. With a rather odd expression on her face she thanked us again and said she'd start on them next week, and that she noticed our list was sorted by the size of the reward. We all chuckled.
"I also wanted to show you our appreciation with a small gift." He also hinted she should open it at home. I handed him the cigar box size gift wrapped in Hello Kitty wrapping paper. He handed it to her and she laughed and asked if the contents were stolen or against the law. David told her it was chocolates from Hawaii but open it when you're alone. We thanked her again and walked back to the hotel. David gave her four hundred hundred-dollar bills from our personal savings because we knew on her salary it would make a huge difference in her life if she handled it well. Spend it a little at a time and don't deposit it in the bank.
She might be disappointed that it didn't contain any chocolate covered macadamia nuts from Honolulu.
In the hotel bed that night I remembered back in Seal training the week we spent learning to quickly kill people. That part started with diagrams of the human neck. We were also taught basic animal anatomy too for the same reasons.
We were taught the initial contact point with the knife and the correct amount of force and the direction to slice, and how to do it in a fight and even in the dark.
The first contact point was usually about halfway back on their left side (if we were right handed). The external jugular was usually just under the skin and the first severed. Under it was a thick wide muscle with several attachments, the sternocleidomastoid, and was the largest muscle that helped keep your head upright and pulled it toward your shoulder. It was tight and strong which was why we were taught the force necessary to sever it with one quick motion. You seldom got two chances to stab someone if you missed the first time.
The knife performed best if it continued inward but not backward. The next structure severed was usually the internal jugular vein which was large and was one of the two primary drain veins for the brain and some of the head muscles and skin. Behind it was the common carotid and external carotid arteries; they supplied part of the brain and face with blood. Those arteries carried lots of volume and were the targets for that method. Once those were severed the target only had ten to thirty seconds of life remaining. Severing those were guaranteed to be fatal, even if done to someone standing in an ER room with a trauma surgeon nearby.
The main point of the training was to show the inward direction then moving backward towards the shoulder, it was a curved line that you had to practice before you did it correctly. If you were using a stabbing knife (like a bayonet) we were shown in great detail how to stab and slice a neck, how it should be done quickly and silently.
Most enemy soldiers were instantly out of service when they saw or felt a large amount of bleeding from their own neck. They also showed us videos of how to use the same techniques on animals like dogs, cattle, horses, and large cats like a lion or a tiger. The stabbing technique was faster to do but not as quick to drop a human, the forceful sideways curved line slice was good but took a lot of strength and a razor sharp knife to make it work.
It was harder to maintain an element of surprise with the stabbing technique unless you could get the victim to look up and to the left. Some trainers suggested tricking them with a coin toss or telling them there was a large wasp on their shoulder.
We purchased the Zombie Slashers but took them to a knife expert that put the partial blade on the other side so it didn't matter how you held it.
The last day of Navy Kill Week we volunteered to ride by bus to Woodstock Illinois to a large hog slaughtering operation to practice what we learned in school.
In hog slaughter the animals walked along a winding chute and eventually into a chamber where they were sprayed with warm salty water, they stepped forward and two large horizontal bars rose up and pressed against their sides and a very large electrical jolt instantly shocked them into unconsciousness with the sound like a big electrical snap. Their entire body tightened up from the voltage and they remained perfectly stiff for one second, then the bars lowered.
The animal collapsed forward, head first onto a conveyor sort of like a baggage claim at the airport.
One man stepped up and stuck their neck with a stabbing knife and cut the large arteries and the animal began the rapid process of bleeding out while they were still unconscious.
That guy showed us how to use their long knife to sever arteries in one quick movement that would also work on an enemy soldier, with the right knife. The basic neck structure of the pig was very similar to humans.
The disadvantage of that stick method on a human standing facing you often meant you'd get blood on your hand, arm, and clothes. The hog-sticker guy was dressed in waterproof pants (like fly fishing waders), but his lower body still got splashed with blood from each hog.
We both took turns. I went before David and I stuck three hogs, he did two. We spent about six hours on the hog disassembly line and got a close look at the inside of their neck anatomy too, further down the line.
The good part of their system was the hogs were all asleep when they got stuck, but every once in a while a hog refused to step forward between the mechanical bars and someone had to catch them and put them back in line. They squealed before their salt water rinse but never during or after. They stabbed an average of three or four hogs per minute. The stabbing part only took about one second per hog.
He told us chickens were processed in a similar way except they were hung by their ankles, upside down, drenched with salt water in a darkened chamber, then electrocuted seconds before they were conveyed past a spinning disc blade that sliced their heads off.
He said in the olden days chickens were stuffed upside down into a large sheet metal funnel shaped thing with their heads exposed, then the farmer came by and quickly sliced off their heads and they stayed there until they were done bleeding. If you wanted to see how cows died watch the movie No Country for Old Men.
When we risked law enforcement contact like we did on that case we knew we were immune from prosecution and all records linked to us were blocked so even if they got our DNA and fingerprints when they accessed the FBI database his prints showed up but his identity was removed. Yes, that person exists but no you cannot see who he was. To some police agencies it became obvious we were running secret government ops.
If we did something stupid like kill a senator or governor then they would deal with us directly, and we'd silently vanish one day, our bodies would end up beside Jimmy Hoffa's.
The number one thing we considered before every op was legality. In our service we never killed someone simply because they pissed off the wrong person.
We flew back to Dallas the next morning and back to ELP that evening just after sunset.
This is going to sound really weird but there was something about walking out of the airport employee parking lot doors at night, seeing the stars and smelling the desert air and walking quietly to the truck that really made me happy. I'm not sure why but I really loved it here. I loved the mountains and how they changed color throughout the day as the angle of the sun changed. I loved the Hispanic culture and the food. El Paso wasn't the nicest place to live but we liked the vibe and the attitude. We liked the desert weather and El Paso usually got a couple small snow falls during the winter because of their altitude. A quarter inch of snow in El Paso paralyzed the city for half a day.
With huge Fort Bliss here it made the northeast side a young community, which increased the excitement, the energy, and the danger too.
The biggest thing I didn't like about El Paso was the feeling of isolation, like living on an island in the middle of an ocean and the only places around were other small islands with the same weather and the same small island bullshit. Another thing that we didn't like about the southwest was we were totally dependent on food imports from distant farming areas, so life in El Paso carried some risk in the event of a widespread disaster. There was a lot of farming around El Paso but they don't grow veggies or food for people, they grow olives and cotton.
David could tell when I felt trapped or homesick. His favorite treatment for my blue mood was to get a boner then offer it to me, which he did knowing I could never say no. Sometimes he offered me his breast which was also wonderful.
He said for Christmas he was going to hire a helicopter to fly us, with minimal camping gear, to the peak of the Franklin Mountains (the Army bulldozed it flat in the 1940s) so we could sleep up there and he could offer me his boner for hours while we lay on our sleeping bags surrounded by the starry night sky. In my mind I pictured being up there in the dark on our backs looking up and the only thing we could see was the stars, it would be like sucking dick in outer space.
I told him we should do that regardless of the price. He thought it might be difficult to find someone willing to land a chopper on top of Franklin Mountain, even for just a few seconds. They'd probably have to do it at night because it might be illegal.
That fall after Thanksgiving we invited the neighbors over for a backyard party. We also invited the Bonhams down but they had plans. We started ribs on Friday to eat on Saturday.
The weekend before that our first piece of exercise gear arrived, it was a very nice treadmill with a computer screen. It had motion activated videos that played and kept accurate pace with your running speed. You could select a location from a list of ten that came with it, some in various cities and some in rural locations, like the main road through Yellowstone Park. The video only advanced if you walked on the belt, if you stopped the video would slow to a stop too. For added motivation sometimes a group of runners would run past you and disappear in the distance. We felt it was better to run indoors than running in the sometimes dusty desert air. But if you needed to run in anger, outside was best.
Few people knew it but most desert communities had an airborne fungus that people caught, usually during sand storms. The fungus grew in the desert sand and became airborne during windy conditions. Some people got really sick from them, and sometimes they were hard to diagnose and treat. El Paso had it too, so did Tucson and Phoenix.
We still wanted to get a universal gym with three workout stations but for now it was the treadmill and the weight bench. We also had to purchase some large fans for the basement and modify one of the ducts to increase airflow into the downstairs from the main swamp cooler on the roof.
We heard a rumor at work recently that our boss (Captain Jones) was busted for drunk driving by El Paso cops but he'd been off work for a week when it happened so he wasn't around to deny anything.
Big El Paso news was that the city obtained funding for the construction of a new elevated highway along the border with exits into Juarez and another route into the US from Juarez.
Juarez has seen hard times lately, even the famous old city market closed a few years ago, which for lots of tourists meant the end of most reasons to go there except maybe low cost dental work, dentures, and some prescription drugs.
In a few places it was still a great place to take guests for a top notch steak dinner. Golden Gloves boxing was very popular in Juarez and you could go to the stadium for a boxing match and cheap beer and have a good time. The energy level of the audience made it even better. We both wished Muay Thai Boxing would become popular in Mexico because they always fought with no shirts on.
Four days before Christmas we were called to Joplin Missouri where a mass grave was discovered, the number of bodies was unknown but estimated to be over fifty and most of them were killed within the past ten years. We didn't know how we could help but they begged for us to come so we flew commercial to Tulsa and rented a car and drove over to Joplin. That's a two hour drive on I-44, a tollway in Oklahoma.
The location we arrived at was destroyed by a large tornado in May, 2011. When we arrived the property was a bare piece of land, zoned commercial but surrounded by subdivisions, where all the trees were gone and the houses were all new and looked very similar. David complained that it looked like all the houses were designed on the same software, like Microsoft Architect for Windows. They were all variations of the exact same design features. He said it was like slicing an apple into ten slices and re-arranging the slices, but it was still the same apple.
We arrived to see excavation equipment beside a coroner's van and a refrigerated semi-trailer to serve as a morgue. There were a city police car and some reporters present. We arrived in street clothes with our cases (in the car).
We heard the sound of a jackhammer busting up a large concrete slab and a backhoe lifting the chunks into the back of a dump truck, while a group of police and news media watched the newly exposed ground underneath.
On that property before May 2011 the business had been a banquet hall behind a very popular Mexican food restaurant. The tornado literally swept the property flat, all that remained were two concrete slabs. Next to this location at the corner of W 25th St and S. Pearl Ave was an electric substation. A new Mexican restaurant sat one block south but it was a different family; this entire family died in the tornado. The restaurant had been open and very busy when the tornado arrived hidden inside heavy rain eight years ago.
One female survivor said it had been raining then while she was alone waiting for her food order the rain got worse and the winds picked up but in that area all that was normal. Suddenly the building creaked and the sound of the wind got really loud, then the roof lifted off, then the property was literally swept clean and she woke up about 290 feet away wedged under a car parked in the street. At first she had no idea what happened or where she was.
After she wiggled out from under a car she tried to find her car or the restaurant it took her hours because there were no landmarks, all that remained was an empty parking lot and two concrete slabs with water spraying up in the air like a fountain. She never saw the tornado and it took two days just to figure out where her home was because all the signs and landmarks were gone. About the only things that survived the May 2011 storm were sidewalks, fire hydrants, streets, and a few street signs.
The old restaurant had a banquet hall people rented for parties. When someone purchased the bare land they decided to completely remove the concrete slabs and install all new utility lines, and it was when they started breaking up the old slabs when they uncovered human remains. That discovery was made a few days ago and there had been no identification yet on the first recovered bodies. The big discovery was that the more they dug the more remains they found, and none of the bodies had been there long, most of the bodies recovered were male and died naked and were stacked in trenches and covered with another layer of dirt.
An early evaluation said it appeared all the bodies so far were young Hispanic males, possibly from Mexico.
Over the past two days some people came forward and offered statements that they believed the business owner (a middle aged Mexican immigrant to the USA) was responsible. He was known for hiring local Hispanic boys to work in the restaurant and the ones with no local family would come up missing, so he'd hire another. This case was eerily similar to the dreadful story of John Gacy and Robert Piest near Chicago in the late 1970s.
We decided to stay for a few days and also tour the area, check out the BBQ shops, and see if they had any gay bars in Joplin. We told the local police rep we were leaving for a hotel and would be here for a while; we gave him our business card and left for hotels along the Interstate. The OD sort of listened in to our Whispernet chats at the scene and when we looked at the first trench being uncovered beneath the old party hall floor.
When the first body was found they stopped breaking up the slab and dug deeper and found bodies in layers going down six feet, then they removed more concrete and recovered more bodies. Police had received a report a few years ago from one boy, that they never took seriously, that the owner had tried to get him drunk after work then they would lure boys into a storage garage, strip off their clothes and the two owners would take turns raping them on the floor. Using a chain type dog collar, a broom stick, and hand cuffs they'd crank tight the collar and fasten it to their cuffs and watch the boy suffocate and die, one of them would film the murder of the naked teen. After that the kid was dumped in the trench out back, which was covered by heavy sheets of plywood. So many young men came from Mexico and had no family to report them missing so the supply of vulnerable and trusting young men was as plentiful as rocks.
At the motel we did some investigating into the case and looked into the history of the owner of the property, a man named Javier Espinoza. He'd had two arrests locally for sexual assault, and accusations of manufacturing porn and snuff films in Spanish. We discovered his business partner was a man named Bruce Williams, and he'd survived the storm because he drove to a restaurant supply business fifteen minutes before the tornado dropped down from the clouds. That is where he was on the north side of Joplin when the storm sirens went off. We located his address and made him our target tomorrow.
We got up with the sun, which during the winter wasn't until after 7am. We had his address and recent driver's license photo of Bruce Williams and drove over to his address, also on Pearl Street at 18th Ave which was just outside the area flattened by the tornado. On arrival we saw the house next door had a for-sale sign and pretended to be looking in the windows and looking at the yard and the garage but actually we were eyeballing Bruce Williams' place next door.
David's first comment was that we needed the Sniffer to copy his cell signal so using Whispernet we asked the OD (she was listening but staying silent) to get the Sniffer flown to Joplin ASAP. Twenty minutes later she called back and said it would be difficult getting it to us quickly. Joplin Regional Airport had no commercial passenger flights, it was general aviation only. David suggested using the jet, so she said she'd call Kansas City and ask if it was possible (our jet was a lot heavier than almost every private jet ever made so the runway had to handle that much weight).
She called back 29 minutes later and said no, the runway would not support the weight of the jet but she might be able to get it sent via Fedex. We reminded her that Fedex was banned from transport of secret Pentagon tech. We decided to stick with the spiders instead. It was late in the afternoon by the time we learned about the runway problem so we went out to eat.
After dining on a BBQ sampler platter we drove back north on Pearl Street and dropped a spider in the yard of the primary suspect then we parked in a driveway two doors south of the house where Bruce Williams lived.
We barely got a signal from the spider so David set the pelican case on the roof of our rental car and joined me after feeding the wires for the joystick and 12v power in through the window. I did more research on the partner (Bruce Williams) and saw he was also a paroled convict (sex offender) with convictions for providing narcotics to minors and making child porn VHS tapes.
An hour later (as the sun was going down) a local cop parked in the street behind us and David got out of the car and pulled out his ID card (I handed him mine too) and got in the back seat of the patrol car (without being asked) and told her we were on a federal op related to the mass grave down the street and could not be interfered with, a possible suspect lived nearby and she needed the city police to keep a thin presence in this part of the town, today and tomorrow.
The cop was a slender Caucasian lady that smelled like cigarette smoke, she had an Okie raspy accent but asked for more proof. David tried to talk to her about the sticker on the back of our truck but she hadn't heard about that. So he asked, "Take a picture of our DOD IDs and text it to your dispatcher and have her run them and see what she finds out."
"Sure, I can do that." She pulled out her cell while David held up his card and she took a photo of them and texted it to the city police dispatcher and then called her and asked for her to call back with any information. David also told her he needed to go back to work soon, we were wasting valuable time.
They sat there in that police car for a while so I got up and joined them on the other side of the tiny back seat and after several minutes her cell started to play a country song, she answered.
"Hi, yes, what'd y'all find out?"
We sat there smiling and watching her on the cell, then the lady cop put the phone in speaker mode.
"Well it's weird. I've never seen one like this before. They're some kind of protected identity that confirms hair, eye, height, weight, license status but everything else is blank, it just says Protected Identity, for more information please call the Department of Defense at 202-433-1200 extension 214. This person is exempted from law enforcement actions and should not be detained, searched, or questioned. Never in my 18 years in this chair have I seen one of these..."
"Okay, thanks Thelma, I'll call you back." She hung up the cell and told us we were free to go, but we might get some hassle from the neighbors for sitting there lookin' guilty.
"As long as nobody interferes with our investigation there will be no trouble, but we are authorized to use deadly force." David explained.
We thanked her for her professional attitude. David also gave her one of our business cards. He always carried some in his shirt pocket, almost seven days a week, except not on vacation.
Before we got back in our rental car and she offered to help if she could, David said if we needed help we'd call her first, but we'd probably have to call her boss too.
We asked her to notify the 911 operators that if they got calls about our rental car suspiciously parked in the neighborhood they didn't need to investigate, it was just little old us, two boys from Texas hunting a serial killer. Before we got out of the cop car he told her briefly about the O-shaped sticker on our truck and license plate, then we got out of that tiny back seat. He told her we'd fax her the information she should have received at work about our agency and our weapons.
We got back in our rental car sat very low in the front seat and waited for data to come back from our spider.
Three minutes after the lady cop drove away we got the floor plan from the house then it climbed on top of a kitchen cabinet to wait for instructions and watch for movement or sound in the house; it was down to half battery left. It found no humans or pets inside. The house was rather empty inside: bed, dresser, table, two chairs, sofa, TV, and a rifle on the table in the kitchen. He had darkly colored sheets tucked over curtain rods over windows. There was no computer at home and only had internet with a wifi connection and had basic cable TV. One hour after the survey someone entered the house. We never saw a car on the street so maybe he commuted with someone else in the neighborhood.
We checked his credit history and found he possibly enjoyed imported European child porn, except those children were all adolescent white kids. That was all that site sold, young teen boys and girls. This guy and his partner sold men raping boys videos, boys raping boys, and snuff videos but not much else.
Around 7pm the resident got out his laptop computer and set it on the kitchen table and plugged it into power, then went to the bathroom and took a shower. While he was in the shower the spider connected to USB and enabled remote wifi access modes so we connected to his laptop over wifi and looked at the contents of C: drive. The spider moved back to on top of the kitchen cabinets.
While the suspect was showering we looked at his files and found video files that went back to 2008 and were copies of older VHS tapes.
It appeared at that moment we had the right man when we found one video file that was called: MarioFEB202006dupe.
It was a homemade video of two adults repeatedly raping what looked like a teenage Mexican boy bound, blindfolded, and down on what looked like a garage floor, on a large plastic tarp. They took turns raping him, then one of them came back with what looked like a large sledgehammer and smashed his skull. The boy twitched for a few seconds then became still, but we saw blood trickling out his skull.
I'd seen enough and felt nauseated and very angry. So we downloaded everything on his C: drive. Bruce came back from the shower with a towel around his waist and made dinner for himself.
We watched him finish cooking then sat at the table and ate and checked his email and surfed the web, but he never noticed his drive light was solid on or that the computer was connected to anyone else. It took us twenty four minutes to download the entire C: drive.
We had a little chat too. "Okay this guy is disgusting: we have two choices, do we disappear him or do we let a jury from Joplin send him to prison?" David asked.
I thought about it, but its times like this that were hard for us because neither of us was a lawyer or knew if the evidence we obtained was acceptable in a trial and eventual appeal.
We decided to dispense justice ourselves but leave the evidence for police so he could be investigated after his death, this way there was no chance of him killing any more children. I could tell David was also mad and wanted to do him in.
"We could go in his house and talk all big and bad, that we're gonna kill you dude, and that shit, or do we just have him die peacefully at home and drive back to Tulsa?" I asked.
David said, "With the discovery of those bodies down the street I think he knows his life will be over soon. I think that we should prevent any chance of him going free, there's enough video on his computer to stand him before a firing squad. We saw him and his partner rape and kill a boy on video."
We sat there in silence, then David spoke to the always listening OD and asked if they had any more information. She said she'd been researching his past too and found the same stuff except we missed his bad conduct discharge from the Army twenty two years ago. He had no siblings and his parents were dead. David thanked her for her help and told her we'd need a morning flight home from Tulsa tomorrow, please. We'll stay at an airport hotel down there tonight. He told the OD we'd be leaving here soon for Tulsa.
"What pellet is in it?" David asked me.
I smiled and told him one of each.
David sat there staring out the window at his house a few doors down the street. It was dark outside and there were no nearby street lights, he finally said, "Fuck it, this bastard doesn't need to die peacefully. I think he needs to feel what the boy in that video felt while he was being raped." He got out of the car and reached inside the pelican case and pulled out a zombie slasher knife, opened it and slipped it into his back pocket, blade down.
I sat in the car holding the tablet computer watching the kitchen while Bruce was finishing his dinner. I turned up the volume and moments later there was knocking on his kitchen door. The guy got up and asked who's there.
"Pizza delivery."
Bruce turned on the light and moved the curtain aside and said he never ordered a pizza.
"Ain't this 1705 Pearl Street?"
"Yep, and the pizza guy never comes to the back door neither."
"Okay, so you want me to throw it away?"
"Well no. Was it paid for?"
"We never make pizza that ain't paid in advance."
"Okay, I'll take it but I got no cash for a tip."
David told him he had another delivery in the car he had to go, so Bruce opened the door. I saw David walk in with a pizza box he must have pulled out of a neighbor's recycle bin. He sort of barged in which forced Bruce to back up. He shoved the box towards him and when Bruce had it in his hands I saw David had the knife in his hand under the empty box. When Bruce took the box the first thing he felt was the box was empty and that made him pause briefly.
David moved so fast his right arm was just a blur on the tablet computer.
Bruce staggered a few steps backward into the kitchen counter as blood gushed from his neck, he raised his hand then held it out to see his entire arm was coated in hot blood. David told him now he's going to pay for all the boys he raped and strangled, so he stepped back and shut the door with his foot while Bruce stayed at the counter as if he was too shocked to do anything as he watched his blood spray all over the kitchen floor. David stood at the door while he bled to death and started to look sickly, he grabbed the kitchen counter and turned around and stepped closer to the sink like he wanted to puke. He tried to wash his hand but slowly got lower and lower as he felt increasingly dizzy and saw stars, then he fell sideways to the floor.
David watched him for a few seconds then stepped to the sink and washed the blood off his hand and wrist and dried off with his dish towel. David paused briefly and flipped him the bird then walked over, picked up the spider and as he walked out the back door he turned it off and left. About a minute later he appeared in the front yard near the car and got in and cranked the motor. I got out and disassembled the pelican case and unhooked everything and by then we were ready to drive down to Tulsa, but we needed to stop for gas first.
We backed out of the driveway and turned on the heat full blast then we drove three miles south to a gas station by the highway then drove back to Tulsa (two hours fifteen minutes) and got a room at the Hilton Hotel, the Garden Inn right by the airport.
Our flight home would leave Tulsa tomorrow at 9:45am. Tulsa to Dallas to ELP. We'd be home around 4pm.