Stories of Mark 'Tank' Lawson
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Attention Readers*** This is a work of fiction. Any characters or events described in this story is strictly coincidental. These events are strictly coming from my imagination. All characters are above the age of consent, and there are a couple of sex scenes in this one, so if you are against that, please do not read.
I thank every one of you who have shown support for this character and series. It brings me so much joy to explore with him.
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March 3rd, 2019 - Oklahoma City, OK
Mark Lawson, sat across from Scott Maywood, his friend from high school, talking about old times and how Scott was able to seize Lorrie. Mark was dating the head cheerleader at the time, and he knew Lorrie fairly well, as she was co-captain of the team. Scott and Mark had several classes together since Eminence IN was such a small town, and they struck a friendship because Scott would get bullied, and Mark would protect him. They both lived out beyond the town limits and were close neighbors by three miles.
"Mark, I still can't believe you pulled off the best date ever for me. It was the best night of my life." Scott took a drink of his rum.
Mark chuckled, "It was easy, Lorrie wasn't seeing anyone and she was tired of jocks. It wasn't hard to convince her Scotty."
"It helped when you told her I slept with your sister and she said I was the best lay in the county."
Mark smirked, "A little white lie didn't hurt. Besides you lost your 'V' card that night and as we all say, the rest is history."
Scott became serious for a minute. "When are you going to be honest with Kelsey?"
"What you talking about, I'm always honest to her."
"Hmm, right." Scott took a gulp of the rum in his hand finishing it off. "Have you told her anything of your past? Your family, your wife, kids? Anything?"
Mark looked down at his half-filled glass of bourbon before he sat it down on the table beside him. "She isn't ready to hear, and I'm not sure she wants to hear about me and my past. She has enough on her plate. She lost her entire family as well."
Scott shook his head, "I never understood you. The strongest and toughest son of a bitch I ever have known, but you are the dumbest."
"Hey wait a minute Scotty, I was third in our class."
"Yeah out of fifty." Scott fired back. "Look, I know there is an age difference, but this girl has grown up since she has been with you. She is more mature than Lorrie in some ways. She would not only listen to you, but understand and help you with what you are going through. You really need to let the pain and anger go; it isn't healthy man."
About that time, the den door opened and Kelsey walked in. "Hey guys, can you come into the kitchen? Lorrie just received a call and she is crying; I can't understand anything she is saying."
Both men stood and rushed to Lorries' side. Scott held her trying to get her to calm down, as Mark picked up her cell phone that had fallen on the floor. The last number was her mother, so he hoped it wasn't her dad was sick or passed. She was settling down, her breathing and crying becoming under control. Scott asked her, "Honey, what made you so upset?"
She composed herself before speaking, "My brother is in trouble. Mom just called and he has been hanging around some local boys that are no good. Yesterday someone robbed the bank, and killed a manager, now the authorities are looking for Robbie. Mom said he was home all day working in the barn but received a call around evening time and left and they haven't heard from him."
Mark looked over at Kelsey then at Scott. "Lorrie, me and Mark will go find out what's going on. We'll find the ones who did this and clear your brother's name." Mark looked over at Kelsey with a questionable look, but the determination in her eyes made him nod at her.
"Thank you so much, you don't know how much it means to me."
"I think we both do." Kelsey explained. "We'll leave in twenty minutes."
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The Southwest Director of DEA was sitting across from FBI Assistant Director Jack Simmons.
"Listen Jack, I've done everything these people have asked and went beyond what was asked of me in the first place. They have my daughter, and won't give her back. Please help me."
Jack let out a sigh, "Jeremy, what the hell do you want me to do? They have me by the balls too. If I help you, they'll kill both of us and our families, plus disgrace us by leaking everything to the national media. Especially when it comes to him. Neither of us want that."
"Jack, I could give two shits about him. He didn't care about us when he put us in the predicament, we're in now. Hell, my brother and sister-in-law are dead, my two nieces have been missing for three years, and I can only presume their dead, why worry about that son of a bitch."
"Jeremy, you need to calm down and think rationally. He and I go way back, and there will be a reward for our troubles."
"You already have your reward Jack. Sitting in this huge office in D.C. now. I'm still in El Paso where they could find me."
"What do you want me to do?" Simmons asked as he leaned back in his plush chair.
Jeremy gave him a dumbfounded look. "Pick up the phone and call him since you are best friends and get this over with. I want Jenny back; you know she is all I have since my wife and brother passed."
Simmons looked at the man across from him, feeling empathy for him. He had been dragged into this as well. He was an honest lawman until his friend called him three years ago. Now the cartel had a video of him doing inappropriate things to a girl, he did not realize he was under the influence and she did not want what he gave her. Of course, he was set up, and he could argue that in a court of law. Explaining it to his wife and kids was another thing, he would lose them as well as his position in the FBI.
"Jeremy, I'll call him, but I can't guarantee anything right now. I'll do all that I can."
Jeremy O'Brien stood up and leaned over the desk and shook hands with Jack Simmons, but held onto his hand as he spoke. "You fuck me over; you will find hell at your front door." He walked out with the same determination as when he came in.
Simmons immediately picked up the phone and called his longtime friend, President Andrew Conklin. When the switchboard operator patched him through, he didn't hesitate to initiate the conversation. "Andy, we really need to talk, is this secure?"
"Director Simmons! How are you today?"
Jack knew that was Andy's way of saying he had people in the room or it wasn't secure. "Meet me in the usual place tonight. Can you do that?"
"I'll set that up with my secretary right now, Director. Tell the wife and kids hello." As the President hung up the phone, he turned his attention to the Columbian President as they resumed their conversation about a trade deal in the making.
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March 4th - 6 am
After eleven hours of driving, with Kelsey driving most of the way, Mark pulled into the little town of Eminence Indiana, population less than one thousand. She was sleeping in the seat next to him, the sun barely breaking the horizon. He was fighting the memories of this town and his former life in it.
Since he had grown a beard the past month and he dyed his hair black, he looked different. Hoping nobody recognized him, he stopped at the only gas station in town to get some coffee and get fuel. After filling up the RV, he entered and walked over to where the coffee had been brewing. It smelled somewhat fresh, so he poured a cup.
When he came to the register, staring at him was no other than his first girlfriend and lead cheerleader Becky Bracken. She had changed a lot, it seemed from drugs more so than anything. Her hair was blonde, her teeth looked rotten, and her eyes were black. She had sores on her skin and she shook. She didn't recognize him throughout the exchange. As he walked out of the station, he felt ill. How did drugs find their way here in this small community in Indiana?
As he entered the RV, he put the key in the ignition and Kelsey woke to the smell of the black brew. "Get any for me?" She asked groggily.
"Yeah, have mine. I'm not feeling well." She took the cup and took a sip, letting out a satisfying noise. He looked over at her, she must have thought it was good. He put the vehicle in gear and turned left at the only four-way stop sign in town. On the corner was the Citizens Bank, with crime scene tape surrounding the building. Both of them surveyed the scene as they drove by.
They drove about five miles out until they came to a 'T' and turned down a gravel road. About a half mile down they came to a rather large farm house, with many out buildings. As Mark pulled into the long drive, an older male came out the door in overalls and a flannel shirt holding what looked to be a twelve-gauge shotgun. Mark stopped short of the house, exiting the RV slowly with his hands clearly in sight.
"Mr. Robinson, it's me Mark. Lorrie told you I'd be coming to help."
Pointing the gun right at Mark, "If you are who you say you are, what's your nickname?