Tears for Claire: A Brother's Revenge

By Randy Evans

Back-Cover

Wade Lassiter, a gifted athlete and scholar, was days away from graduating from high school in Amarillo, Texas, and had been accepted to attend Princeton University in the fall. He came home on a Friday afternoon to find the house empty even though his parents’ cars were there and his ninth-grade sister, Claire, had come home early from school.

He heard a door slam in the garage and went there, only to find his parents and sister lying dead on the garage floor. He ran out the garage rear door and through the opened gate to witness a black SUV driving away. As he held his sister in his arms, he saw she had fresh tears in her eyes and a single gunshot wound to the head.

Later that evening, an assassin attempted to kill him too as he sat in a police cruiser in front of his home. Having lost everything and no one to trust, he turned to his martial arts instructor and close friend, Master Tim Joe.

The next day, he fled America, with the help of Tim and Chief Maynard of the Amarillo police and hid out with Master Tim’s family in the Republic of Korea for over five years. While there, he was tutored by Tim’s uncles, all masters in martial arts.

Wade felt certain he knew who was responsible for the deaths of his family. His father, retired army colonel Jim Lassiter, had told him of something he’d discovered while on assignment in Colombia, South America, with the clandestine services company that he owned.

Emilio Gomez ran a four-hundred-acre estate on the Pacific coast outside of Tumaco, Colombia, that catered to wealthy clients from around the world. What he served up was prostitution from girls, women, and young boys he had kidnapped from around the world.

More importantly, Wade’s father had learned that Gomez had been breeding the kidnapped women for the past twenty years so that he could train the offspring in the arts of sex and client satisfaction. He had inherited the business from his father and was very proud of the unique “product,” as he referred to them, he had developed.

When any of the products were no longer useful to him, they were killed and their bodies disposed of far out in the Pacific Ocean. His was a very profitable business, and he was very satisfied with himself and felt his father would have been very proud of him also.

Wade Lassiter had gone to South Korea as an eighteen-year-old boy. Five and a half years later, he returned to Texas a twenty-four-year-old man. Due to his natural athletic ability and as a result of the extensive training he had received from his martial arts masters in Korea, he was also one of the most highly trained and effective warriors in the world. It was now time for Wade to avenge the deaths of his family and liberate the innocent hostages held on the estate.

Emilio Gomez had continued to pursue Wade and attempt to find out where he had been so that he, and those who had hidden him, could be killed to protect the secret of the Gomez empire. Lassiter reentered the United States in Dallas under an alias to protect himself. Tim and Sharla Joe met him at the airport and had arranged a meeting two days later for Wade and the men who had kept his father’s company operational since Jim Lassiter’s murder.

A mole in that organization had sold out Jim Lassiter, leading to the murders in Amarillo. Wade had to find out who that was before he could trust anyone from the company. When that was done, he would use the assets in the company, which he now owned, to fulfill his father’s wishes of ending the evil of Emilio Gomez and his “empire.” He would find Gomez and deal with him, along with everyone involved in the murders of his family. He was unaware that this search would bring him back to the United States and accomplices of Gomez.

Wade had had five and a half years to heal the wounds of his loss with the help of

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662467271

Book preview

Chapter 1

The morning was bright and sunny. It was going to be another warm day in May on the coldest day of Wade Lassiter’s young life. Wade and his sister, Claire, were heading out the door for school. Wade would drive Claire to her middle school and head to Tascosa High School, where he was a senior. He had played football and baseball for the past two years after sitting out his sophomore year at the request of his father.

Jim Lassiter wanted his son to work hard on his studies so that he could get into an Ivy League school. It had been a dream of his that he’d never achieved but wanted for his kids. And why not? They were both smart enough and were driven students who made good grades.

Money was no object in the Lassiter home. Jim was very successful at his business. The problem with his dad’s business, from Wade’s perspective, was he really wasn’t sure what the business was. Jim Lassiter traveled a lot but always seemed to show up on time for the big events in his kids’ lives. He was always around when they needed to talk or needed some advice. He was a tough disciplinarian, but neither Wade nor Claire ever doubted for a minute they were loved above all else by both their parents.

Wade had spoken with his father the night before about his decision to attend Princeton University the following fall. It was far from home but was what he’d been working at for the past several years. He had received an offer to play football and an academic scholarship.

Wade was a gifted athlete although he wasn’t a physical specimen of size and strength, as were many football players. He was over six feet tall and tipped the scales at 196 pounds. Not small, by any means, but not the hulking figure seen at the position of linebacker on most football teams either. The one athletic gift Wade possessed was an uncanny quickness and a lightning burst of speed. He moved like a big cat stalking prey on the football field. When the ball was snapped, Wade was already a step ahead of everyone else.

His catlike instincts were a thing of legend in district 6A in Texas schoolboy football. He received honors in his senior year of all-state, all-district, and all-city and Player of the Year in the northwest Texas district of class 6A. All this, and you wouldn’t know it if you didn’t read or hear about it from someone else. Wade lived within himself and respected those around him enough not to bore them with self-promotion or conceit, of which he had neither. The only person he was positive who thought he was terrific was his sister, Claire. She adored her big brother, and he adored her.

Wade was enjoying his last semester in high school and getting ready for the adventures of the future. His gang of thieves he ran around with, as they called themselves, were all going off in different directions and were dreading the time they parted ways.

Cole Hensley, J. D. Bell, and Mark Hood had been Wade’s best friends for six years when they all met in middle school. All but Mark. He and Mark had been best friends since they started elementary school at Paramount Terrace twelve years earlier.

On a dare, they had entered Master Tim Joe’s Ji-Mu Dojo when they were in the fifth grade. Master Tim, as he was called around Amarillo, had taken over the facilities of a closed-down health spa in the southwest part of Amarillo and turned it into his dojo and home, as he lived in the back of the facility. Master Tim had taken the two boys on as a project. He quickly saw that Wade possessed something very special and rare in martial arts with his lightning reflexes and speed. Mark struggled a little more with the art but soon became advanced in his own skills.

Ji-mu and Tim Joe became a foundation for these two friends for the remainder of their lives in school in Amarillo. Wade attributed much of his success in athletics to his training in the dojo with Master Tim.

A lot was going through Wade’s mind these days. He had a very exciting future, but he also had a great deal of hard work to look forward to. His father had taught him from early in life that hard work and discipline were direct routes to accomplishment, success, and personal satisfaction. Wade believed it and intended to accomplish everything he set out to accomplish. His path had been established over the years, and he’d worked hard to get where he was with the opportunity ahead of him.

He came from wealth and privilege, but wealth and privilege didn’t put on a uniform every day and butt heads with bruisers twice his size. Wealth and privilege didn’t cause him to stay home and do homework and study instead of going to Stanley’s Drive-In with his buddies and check out the girls. Wealth and privilege didn’t show up at Master Tim’s dojo week after week and endure excruciating pain and hard work to earn a black belt in ji-mu, a martial art taught as a combination of eight other martial art styles developed and mastered by Tim Joe. No, Wade had a leg up in life, but he used that advantage to achieve even more through his own hard work, intelligence, and, most of all, self-discipline.

Wade was daydreaming and looking out the window when he heard his name being called. When he broke from his trance and looked around the room, he found the entire Spanish class was laughing at him while his favorite teacher, Jackie Slape, was smiling at him and asking if he would like to tell the class which of his many girlfriends he was dreaming of while she was attempting to teach him something about Spanish. If he could have slithered under his desk and out the door, it would have been fine with him. He always turned bright red when he was embarrassed, and everyone could tell that he was nailed. Suffice it to say, Mrs. Slape had his undivided attention for the remainder of the class.

When class was over, she asked him to stay a minute. She apologized for embarrassing him but admitted that she just couldn’t pass up the great opportunity. She liked him just as much as he liked her. Mrs. Slape had a daughter, Mona, who was in Wade’s class. She thought of Wade as the son she didn’t have and, more than once, spoke of him asking Mona out so that they could fall in love, and then she would indeed have him as her son. She loved to watch him turn red each and every time she mentioned it.

Truth be told, Mona had a crush on Mark from the sixth grade, and Wade was just a means to an end for Mona to get Mark’s attention. Of course, Mark was oblivious to her undying love, as Wade put it. Mark’s mind was on other important matters, like what to drink when they went out running around on Saturday night.

As Wade left Mrs. Slape’s room that Friday afternoon, he looked back and said, Have a great weekend, Mrs. Slape, and say hello to Mr. Slape for me.

Teine un gran fin de semana, Wade. It was her wish for him to have a great weekend also.

Oh, come on! You know I haven’t learned a thing in this class was his response, just before an eraser hit the wall beside him as he walked out the door. Little did he know that this was the last time he would ever see Mrs. Slape again when he left that Friday afternoon.

So my old beat-up junker or your brand-new Camaro with the over-the-top stereo system this weekend, old buddy old pal? Mark asked that Friday afternoon, as they walked to the parking lot together.

Gee, why don’t we take my car? Wade replied with a smile, acknowledging the look of victory on Mark’s face.

What a great idea, pal. Pick me up at seven?

Sure thing, Your Highness, Wade all but yelled at Mark, as he got into his hand-me-down Mercury sedan and drove away laughing.

As Wade watched Mark drive away, he couldn’t have imagined that this was the last time he would ever see his best friend again.

One week earlier

Jim Lassiter had awakened his son early on a Saturday morning and told him to get dressed so they could go take care of some business that day. Wade had no idea what his dad had in mind and what kind of business they could possibly have that needed attending to at 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday.

When Wade got downstairs, his parents were both waiting for him at the breakfast table off the kitchen. In front of them was an opened letter that had come for Wade the day before.

Wade, I’m sorry, but I opened this letter addressed to you yesterday when it arrived. I was just so excited, and I knew that you wouldn’t mind, his mother said apologetically but with an apparent sense of pride in her voice that he couldn’t understand.

At least he couldn’t understand it until he saw the letterhead, which read Princeton University, Office of the Registrar.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at both his parents. Their smiles made reading the letter a mere formality. He had been offered athletic scholarships at larger universities with very successful athletic programs, but he hadn’t accepted any until he heard from all the schools he had applied to, particularly Princeton. His acceptance to Princeton for his academic merits was much more special to him. It was earned by his years of hard work in the classroom and not his natural athletic ability.

Princeton it would be. He knew that he could walk on and play football at Princeton if he decided to. His father had been right: self-discipline and hard work did result in success. It was a lesson learned that would serve him well for the rest of his life.

Wade gave his mother a hug and received from her a lingering kiss on the cheek, and his father shook his hand until Wade’s shoulder ached. He and his father weren’t the hugging kind, but there was a great deal of affection between the two.

Claire came down the stairs in her robe, complaining that there was too much noise for a Saturday morning. She looked at the table to see what there was to eat, and she saw the letter lying there. She quickly read it and jumped into the air, into the waiting arms of her big brother, screaming in his ear. She wrapped both arms around his neck and both legs around his waist and started hugging and kissing him relentlessly. Then she jumped down and started immediately making mental notes of everything they needed to do to start getting ready to go to college.

Everyone laughed and enjoyed each other immensely. One would have thought that Claire was going to college with Wade.

Jim Lassiter looked at his son and said, Well, I told you that we have some business to attend to this morning, so we best get going.

I thought this letter was the business, Wade replied, not understanding.

It sure was some important business, but it’s not the business I had in mind. Let’s go.

Wade’s mother gave him another hug and kiss, and Claire was already sitting at the table with a tablet, making their list of needs for college. Wade left with his dad with no idea what lay in store, which wasn’t all that uncommon for anything to do with Jim Lassiter.

When they got in the car and headed toward downtown, Jim Lassiter told Wade, "There are some things I want you to know as you prepare for college, Wade. Things about me and my business you should know before you move away. I know that I’ve kept you in the dark for most of your life about the exact nature of the business, and there’s been good reason. My business has always had a certain amount of risk to it, and the less you, your mother, and Claire knew about it, the less you could worry about me. I can take care of myself, and I know each of you can take care of yourselves too, particularly you.

Should something ever happen to me, I want you to take care of your mother and Claire. I’m not saying anything is going to happen, but the welfare of the family is always something a man worries about. Can you do that?

Sure I would, Dad, but that’s not something you would have to ask me to do. You know how much I love them, and nothing would happen to them with you around or not if I had anything to do with it. What’s going on that you should tell me this now?

Nothing in particular. But you’re a man now. You’ll be nineteen in September in just a few months, and before you leave for college, I just wanted to have a conversation with you about everything. I’ve made some enemies in my life, and you carry my name. You just need to always be aware of your surroundings and not let anything or anyone get to you. Jim Lassiter was getting at something that was evidently very hard to say outright.

Wade thought for a while before he responded. He also wondered where they were going.

His dad pulled off the freeway and entered the Chevrolet dealership. Jim walked with Wade into the showroom and asked for Jerry Reyes. Jerry came out of his office and was all smiles. He was a Hispanic man and appeared to Wade to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties.

Reyes approached Jim like he hadn’t seen him in twenty years. Reyes had an athletic frame with long, lean muscles, which appeared to be developed from hard work and not from pumping iron in a gym. He had a determined look in his eyes. His appearance was of something much more than a car salesman.

After a handshake and some quick catching up, Jim introduced Jerry to Wade. Jerry, this is my son that I’ve told you about. Jerry Reyes, meet Wade Lassiter, and, Wade, meet Jerry Reyes.

The two men shook hands, with Jerry taking Wade’s hand into both of his with the honesty of being truly appreciative of the opportunity to meet him.

I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Reyes, Wade stated, as they shook hands enthusiastically.

Hell, call me Jerry or Reyes. I prefer Reyes. Mr. Reyes makes me want to look around for my dad.

Okay, Reyes. It’s a pleasure meeting you. I assume you know my dad pretty well from the greeting, Wade said, attempting to draw a response and insight into their apparent affection for each other.

I’ve known your dad in good times and bad, Wade. He’s bailed my butt out of some tight scrapes, and I hope he feels that I’ve had his back too, although not many people get behind your dad long enough to worry about it much, Reyes said, looking at Jim and smiling broadly.

Jim said, Wade, you wouldn’t know it from his age, but Jerry’s a very close friend of mine, and someone I have trusted my life to in the past and would readily trust it to again. More importantly, I’d trust your life and your mother’s and sister’s to him too, and that about says it all about what I think of this guy.

Jerry looked genuinely embarrassed by the accolades but waved it off and said, Wade, you probably know by now to discount about 99 percent of what your old man says. However, in this case, it’s all true.

They all shared a good laugh.

Jim added, This isn’t just a visit to introduce you to my namesake. This is an opportunity for you to start your Saturday off with a big sale.

Jerry’s smile broadened as Wade looked at his dad to determine what he meant.

Jim looked at Wade and said, Well, you’re going to need some new wheels to take to Princeton, aren’t you? We might as well get that taken care of this morning. Jerry, show us some new Camaros. Does that suit you, Wade?

Sure was all Wade could muster through an ear-to-ear smile.

Thirty minutes later, they were all getting out of an orange-and-black Camaro ZL1 with a supercharged 6.2-liter LT4 engine. It was the hottest car in production at Chevrolet with 650 V8 horsepower and a Bose stereo sound system that could levitate the car from the road beneath it. The orange-and-black color was a necessity since they were the Princeton school colors, of course.

Wade was swallowing hard and blinking repeatedly to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Reyes told Wade that they could have the car ready for pickup on Monday after he got out of school.

Jim Lassiter looked at Jerry and just shook his head. Now, Jerry, you get your butt back there and tell those people that we will be taking this car with us this morning and that they best get off their asses and get it ready, or I’ll go buy him a Ford somewhere.

Reyes looked truly hurt and then started to laugh hysterically. Always the badass, always the badass, Colonel Lassiter. I’ll go back there and reason with the boys out back, and we should have this baby ready to drive out of here in about an hour to an hour and half. How’s that?

Jim looked at Wade for approval, and trying to wipe the confused grin from his face so he could respond, Wade said, Okay.

A man of few words, my son, a man of few words. Jerry, we’re going for some coffee, and we’ll be back here in about ninety minutes. You have my information to draft my bank on Monday, right?

Sure we do. I’ll also call your insurance company while you’re gone and have the car added to your policy. Still USAA, right? Reyes inquired to confirm.

Affirmative. We’ll see you in a bit.

Jim and Wade headed for Shirley’s Café for the best coffee in the Texas Panhandle. Shirley and Bill Roper had opened Shirley’s restaurant some sixty or seventy years before. It was an institution in Amarillo. The business took a bit of a hit when Interstate 40 was built in the late sixties, but they still drew in the locals in droves. Their son, Joe, and his wife, Joann, now operated the restaurant.

As Jim and Wade took a booth in the back, Joe Roper had to drop by and pay homage to Jim and meet Wade. He called over his wife, Joann, to meet him also. These two people were in their late sixties and seemed truly delighted to meet him.

Again, Wade was amazed at the number of people his father knew and how devoted they seemed to him. There were those in the restaurant who dropped by to shake Jim’s hand too. It was really great to see his dad so happy and proud to show off his son. Some knew of Wade from the football field and had to share a story or relive a great play with him about their own days on the gridiron.

When all the celebrity seemed to die down, Jim looked over at Wade and said, I really do have some more things to discuss with you, son. I know this morning has been a whirlwind since you got up, but I need you to focus and give me your undivided attention for a few minutes. I need to discuss some things—no, actually, I need to tell you some things, and I need you to just sit there and listen. Try to hold any questions until I finish. Does that work for you?

Sure, Dad, but this all seems a little stealthy, doesn’t it? Is there something serious going on? Are you okay, or is Mom sick or something? Wade inquired.

No, she’s not. And I’m fine too. But I need you to listen and not ask any questions for just a few minutes. Joe will bring our breakfast when it’s ready, but nobody else is going to interrupt us for a bit, so you don’t either. Just listen, Wade. Deal? Jim asked in almost a whisper on the last few words.

Deal, but can I ask you one question first? Wade asked, already breaching the request.

Okay, one and one only, his dad replied with a bit of annoyance.

Why did Reyes call you Colonel Lassiter?

That, my boy, is what you’re about to learn. Can I proceed with no further interruptions on the promise that you’ll understand that before our breakfast is complete?

Sure, Dad, shoot, Wade promised with the eagerness for what he was about to learn in his voice.

Jim Lassiter proceeded to tell Wade more about his business than he had ever known. He told him that he was the principal officer in a company that served corporations and governments around the world in their pursuit of knowledge in certain areas of interest or their own security. He was known as Colonel Lassiter in this quasi-military-style organization.

Although Jim Lassiter was in the military for fourteen years beginning in 1985, which Wade knew of with no detailed knowledge of the particulars of his dad’s service, Jim had retired from the military only to form his company. Most of the people he worked with were former military, but several had special training in government operations and federal agencies with three-letter acronyms. As they worked around the world on various assignments, Lassiter’s company became involved in more than one clandestine operation that led to hostile relationships with some very bad people. Most of those people had ended up dead or in prison in their own country or in a country they had violated the law in one way or another, serving very long or life sentences.

Wade sat and listened to his dad talk for thirty minutes and didn’t so much as utter a word. He was mesmerized by what he was hearing. His own father had led a life of what Wade thought of as a James Bond role, and Wade and his sister never even knew. He was amazed, concerned, enthralled, and just about every other emotion that was possible for an eighteen-year-old to hear of his father. But then it occurred to him: why was his dad telling him this, and why now of all times?

Jim Lassiter seemed to sense his son’s question in his mind. You’re probably wondering why I chose now to reveal all of this to you.

Yes, sir, I am, Wade responded in a quiet tone.

His dad’s voice dropped to just above a whisper as if he was about to reveal something to his son that nobody else on earth could hear. "Wade, I’ve learned of an operation that’s been going on for years in South America that is beyond any evil that I’ve witnessed in my career, and really beyond anything I’ve ever heard of. This evilness is on a scale beyond anything that I have ever seen or could have even imagined, and trust me, son, I’ve seen some evil that I’d have never thought possible on this earth.

"I need to tell you some of the particulars of this situation so that someone knows, other than just me. I can’t trust this information to anyone else, Wade, not at this point. I intend to act on it as soon as I’m prepared, but I have reason to believe that this organization, since learning of me and my knowledge of what they’re up to, have somehow infiltrated my organization or hacked our systems.

I know there’s a breach. I just can’t determine where it is. With that knowledge, I’m stymied in my own company to make a move. I have to figure it out before I can take any action. I’m going to tell you what I know. I don’t want you to write anything down, and you can’t speak to anyone about it. Nobody! Do you agree? I’m sorry to have to do this to you, son, but I’m literally trusting you with many lives on this. That’s how much trust and respect that I have for the man you’ve become.

Wade nodded his ascent and said, Nobody.

With that, his father gave him a detailed account of what he suspected was going on in a region of South America. He told him where the operation was and how he became aware of it. On his own recon, he confirmed his suspicions since he and his squad had completed a mission in that same country.

Wade listened intently to an incredible and terrifying account of what people were capable of that he had never imagined. His father provided details, which Wade attempted to commit to memory, but the sheer magnitude of what his father offered was so far out of his world that it was very difficult to grasp.

His father became something his son had never seen. He wasn’t a caring, loving father any longer. He was a model of precision and information, with details delivered in a concise yet plausible and comprehensible manner. Wade understood the gravity of what he was hearing, and his father was very deliberate in his telling so as to educate Wade on certain measures and processes that Jim Lassiter knew were as foreign to his son as the evil that he was detailing.

He also knew that his son was vastly more intelligent than he and that Wade would be able to digest this over time and understand what must be done and when he needed to act, should it come to that. Jim Lassiter prayed to God that it never came to that, but he would not leave his family unprotected and ignorant of something he considered a clear and present danger to their very existence. These people would stop at nothing to protect their evil empire, and Jim Lassiter would stop at nothing to bring them down.

It occurred to Wade, after a while, that they no longer had any interruptions and that the promised breakfast had not been served. He had been so engrossed in the story his father was telling he had tuned out the rest of the café entirely.

Upon further observation, Wade became aware that his dad had chosen a booth in the back of the room against the outer wall of the building. Directly behind him was an emergency exit with a solid metal door and a handle with a warning on it of a siren being activated should someone push it to open the door. It was a standard emergency door available from the inside but not accessible from the outside. This was also the only booth in the café without a window above it. The windows ended one booth earlier, and the outside brick wall was adjacent to this booth. Jim Lassiter had taken the back seat with his back to the emergency exit and a brick wall beyond. He faced the front door and had the entire café within his sight at all times.

Wade glanced over his shoulder and noted a small red flag positioned from a hole on the booth back on the aisle just over Wade’s right shoulder. He was sure that the flag hadn’t been there when they had seated themselves. He wasn’t aware that this had been standard procedure for the past twenty years at Shirley’s Café when Jim Lassiter entered and took the last booth on the left. He was not bothered by anyone when the flag was there. It was common knowledge, and it was respected by the regulars. If anyone was not a regular, then they wouldn’t know Jim and would have no reason to wander to the end of the aisle unless there was an emergency.

Jim asked Wade if he had any questions, and Wade indicated that he had about a million of them.

His dad looked at him and said in a very solemn tone, "Wade, this world is a good place. It’s a very good place, and we’re blessed to have been born in a relatively safe part of