FIGHT GAMEDebt Collector 11

Jon Mills

Copyright © 2018 by Jon Mills

All rights reserved. Direct Response Publishing. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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The Debt Collector 11: Fight Game is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

For my Family

Contents

Also by Jon Mills

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

A Plea

Readers Group

About the Author

Also by Jon Mills

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Undisclosed

Retribution

Clandestine

The Debt Collector

Debt Collector 2: Vengeance

Debt Collector 3: Reborn

Debt Collector 4: Hard to Kill

Debt Collector 5: Angel of Death

Debt Collector 6: Prey

Debt Collector 7: Narc

Debt Collector 8: Hard Time

Debt Collector 9: Here Last Breath

Debt Collector 10: Trail of the Zodiac

Debt Collector 11: Fight Game

Lost Girls

I’m Still Here

The Promise

True Connection

Prologue

Port of New Jersey

An oil-stained rag muffled the scream. Crouched nearby, a young Jack Winchester casually washed blood from his knuckles in a bucket of frigid harbor water. He shot Freddy Carlone a cold glance and gestured for him to remove the rag. A painful groan spilled from damaged lips followed by saliva, blood and a broken tooth. Before them was Angelo Gafino, twenty-one, the only son of Roy Gafino who was the head of a notorious crime family operating out of the New Jersey area. Stripped of clothes, bound with rope, Angelo dropped his head forward causing more blood to splatter on the steel floor of the 40-foot-long shipping container. The smell of singed flesh lingered in the air, the result of attaching jumper cables to his skin and shocking him repeatedly while questioning him.

Angelo began pleading. “I told you. Someone set me up.”

Jack replied without looking at him. “Give me the names of those working with you.”

“Oh God, please, Jack, this is a mistake. Just let me speak to him.”

“He’s done talking. Give me the names.”

Jack rolled out soft, brown leather skin to reveal an array of immaculate shiny blades. He extracted a 7-inch fillet knife and turned it over in his hand, catching his reflection for a second — a crisp black shirt with sleeves rolled up, dark jeans and black boots.

“Look, just hold on. Think about this for a second, Jack. Why would I want to kill my own father? I’m set to take over when he dies. It makes no sense.”

Jack cast a glance over his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow.

“All right. I wanted him to step down sooner but I wouldn’t dare try to kill him. You have to believe me.”

Jack rocked his head back and breathed in deeply. “Freddy, find out if Louis has arrived with the camcorder.” Freddy nodded, his boots clanged against the steel floor as he let himself out at the far end. A chilly September wind blew in before the doors sealed shut leaving Jack alone with Angelo.

“Please, Jack. I’m begging you. I’ve known you since you were fifteen. I was the one who introduced you to my father.” He paused, thinking Jack would reply but his mind was focused on the task at hand, on the instruction of his boss. There was no room for emotion. He’d learned to shut off that part of him that felt remorse for anyone except women or children. “Look, if it wasn’t for me he wouldn’t have even given you the time of day. The only reason you are in this family is because of me. You owe me.”

Jack approached with the knife and brought it up to his neck.

“The only debt I owe is to your father.”

“Yeah, that’s right. And one day he’ll want to collect on that. What then, huh, Jack? If he would turn on his own son, what would he do to you?” He shook his head and spat another glob of blood on the ground. “I’m begging you, as a friend, don’t do this.”

“You’ve got this all wrong,” Jack replied. “You did this to yourself.”

The large cargo doors groaned open as Freddy returned. Louis was in his shadow, a beefy guy with a square jaw, who rarely smiled and nearly had as many kills to his name as Jack. Freddy handed over the camcorder with the LCD screen open. All Jack had to do was hit play. He walked behind Angelo and showed him the short five-minute video that had been recorded without his knowledge. Several attempts on Roy Gafino’s life over the past year had made Roy doubt everyone around him. Among the many jobs Jack had to do, one of them was protecting Roy and that involved finding who was behind it. It wasn’t an easy task as no one on the street would talk, all of which led Jack to believe that it was someone on the inside. Someone with power. Someone who could instill fear into the hearts of anyone. To make certain, Roy ordered that everyone including Jack be tailed. Captured in rainy nighttime footage was Angelo, filmed at a distance, standing with two West Coast men hired to kill Gafino

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