Read Online The Demon Deception by Mark Harritt - Free Book Online

had
shrunk in recent generations as work became more competitive and
jobs were harder to find. This section was still firmly Mohawk
territory, though, with brownstones that had been in the family for
four or five generations. Sam Diabo was one of those Mohawks, and
had family that had worked on all of the major construction
projects in New York City.
    Lazarus was here to see his old friend. He
hadn’t seen him in almost two years. The last time Lazarus had seen
Sam was before Brazil. Sam Diabo was a Mohawk ironworker and
warrior. Sam was a decorated war hero who had joined the Marine
Corps right after September 11, 2001. Part of it was the warrior
tradition of his people. Part of it was patriotism, even though his
tribe was a separate nation. Sam had been born in the USA. His
family had lived and worked here for generations. It was this
reason that he felt that he owed something to the country. A lot of
it had to do with his family’s legacy as well. His grandfather,
Joe, and his father, Jimmy, had worked on the twin towers. The
terrorists had destroyed his family legacy when the Twin Towers
came down, so Sam felt justified to destroy theirs.
    Lazarus met Sam after a confrontation with
three men. Lazarus watched the situation go down from across the
street. Three men walked up to Sam, gang bangers with something to
prove. They probably picked Sam because he was the biggest guy on
the street. The leader of the three said something that Lazarus
couldn’t hear. The leader pulled his shirt up to show Sam the
automatic in his waistband. Lazarus could call the three mistakes
from where he was. First, the gang toughs were on the wrong street.
Second, they had messed with the wrong guy. Third, they didn’t have
their guns in hand when they accosted Sam.
    Most people would have frozen in fear. Not a
decorated Marine who had survived the battle of Fallujah. Sam
kicked the tough right square in the groin. It wasn’t with his toe.
Instead, he caught the groin with the top of his foot where it met
the ankle, giving a solid blow. From where Lazarus was standing, it
looked like a size fourteen or fifteen foot, so there was a lot of
surface area. The tough guy rose up onto the tips of his toes,
hands instinctively shooting down to cup his crotch. The blow was
hard enough that Lazarus heard, and winced at, the impact from
across the street. The fight didn’t stop there, however.
    Sam had great instincts, and knew what was
going to happen if he only went half way. He stepped forward,
holding the gang banger up with one hand, and pulling the pistol
with the other. As soon as he had the pistol in hand, he let go of
the gang banger, allowing him to fall to the ground, whimpering,
holding what was left of his crushed testicles. Sam racked the
slide, not relying on the hope that there might be a round in the
chamber. Then he shot the other two, who, surprised at the result
of the confrontation, were still fumbling for the pistols in their
waistbands. They hit the ground, cooling rapidly from the double
taps that punctured their hearts.
    The leader was mewling on the ground, curled
in the fetal position, hands cradling his destroyed manhood.
Lazarus walked over and held up his hands as Sam rounded on him.
Sam lowered the muzzle of the gun towards the ground, “Who are
you?”
    Lazarus nodded towards the bodies on the
ground, “I’m your witness.”
    Sam looked cautious when he asked the next
question, “What do you mean, my witness?”
    Lazarus explained, “Well, I was walking down
the street, when I saw this one,” he pointed at the tough on the
ground, holding his groin and moaning, “Shoot those two. Then I
watched you disarm him so that he wouldn’t be a threat to the
neighborhood.”
    Sam smiled at the explanation, “You know, I
wasn’t even thinking that far ahead.”
    Lazarus nodded, “Yeah, I kind of figured
that. I thought I would lend a hand. You have some people around
here that can corroborate?”
    After that