AllFreeNovel
Share Us
NO PRISONERS: FACES OF WAR L.A.
“Play it,” Fescoe said.
The slayings on the beach were ruthless, precise, and shot from the killer’s perspective. The camera work seemed remarkably smooth given the brutality of the action. The only parts of the killer you saw, however, were the gloves and the guns.
After the last man fell dead, a warning appeared:
IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY
MANY MORE WILL DIE.
NO ONE IS SAFE. NO ONE
“Hundred and twenty-five thousand hits,” Del Rio said, tearing me from thoughts of being under the tarps the night before, looking at the burned bodies of the four men I’d just seen executed on video.
“Comply?” the mayor said. “Comply with what?”
Fescoe paled again, swallowed, and said, “He wants money to stop the killings. Lots of money.”
Chapter 20
“LET ME GET this straight,” Mayor Wills said, sinking into her desk chair. “He’s killing people to extort the city?”
“This explains it,” Fescoe said, nodding to his assistant again. YouTube disappeared, replaced by high-res photographs of two typed letters. “We got the letter on the left yesterday morning, the one on the right this morning. Both through snail mail.”
I scanned the two letters. Both talked about “senseless killings that could easily be avoided” and suggested
that failure to accede to the demands would result in mass terror and damage to the Los Angeles economy. “After all,” the letters read, “who wants to be a tourist in Murder Central, USA?”
The first letter demanded a million dollars to prevent further killings. The second asked for two million and threatened that the price would rise again if No Prisoners was not contacted by ten the following morning. The letters gave instructions for Fescoe to initiate contact by posting a specific term—“tribute”—in an update on the LAPD’s Facebook page.
In turn, the chief would get information about where and how to transfer the money. The letters also warned that failure to make contact and payment within twenty-four hours would cause the daily death toll to increase by one.
“Using social media as one of the levers,” Del Rio commented. “You’re dealing with someone young, educated, a planner.”
I nodded, “And ex-military, I’d expect.”
Cammarata, a former US Army Ranger, snorted. “Why? Just because he uses the handle No Prisoners? He could have played football, as in ‘Take no prisoners.’ Or soccer, for Christ’s sake. Who is this amateur?”
I ignored the barb, said, “Could very well be, Sheriff. That’s just the way it feels to me.”
He nodded coldly. “We pros don’t go on feelings.”
“Well, there you go,” I replied. “But honestly, I’m as confused as you are, Sheriff, as to why Rick and I were asked here.”
All eyes traveled to Chief Fescoe, who cleared his throat. “In my opinion, what we have here is the makings of a first-class career Armageddon, a worse spree killer than the DC Sniper. How we handle this will pretty much determine our political fates, especially if the death count continues to rise. So what I’m about to suggest does not leave this room. Are we agreed?”
Slowly, reluctantly, all those gathered nodded, including me.
“I think Jack’s right in his reaction and so is Del Rio, and that’s part of why I asked them to join us,” Fescoe began. “This ‘pay to stop the killing’ angle. I’ve never seen it before. And there’s something about the way this is being done, call it a feeling if you want, Lou, but this guy is not going to stop. He’s highly trained. And he’s going to kill until we either catch him or we buckle and pay him off.”
“We are not buckling,” Mayor Wills said emphatically. “The City of Los Angeles will not be paying any murderous extortionist on my watch.”
“Exactly my thoughts, Your Honor,” the chief replied with a slow bow of his head. “I never for a moment considered advising you to pay. But we are faced with a double-edged sword. If we don’t pay, we must ask ourselves whether we are also dooming six innocent people to die tomorrow.”
“You don’t know that,” Sheriff Cammarata snapped.
“You want to take the chance?” Fescoe shot back, reddening.
