A glimpse into my novels
Welcome to a showcase of my literary endeavors. Here, you'll find excerpts from my novels and short stories, offering a glimpse into the worlds I've created. Whether you're a reader seeking your next adventure or a literary agent looking for fresh talent, I invite you to explore my work.
email to rognewnumber@gmail.com
THE CHANGE WE NEED
Chapter 1
Power doesn’t look the way people think it does.
It isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t sit behind a podium or campaign for votes.
Real power is quieter than that.
It remains in rooms where nothing is documented, much like the one I was in the morning everything shifted.
Three case files were spread across the conference table. Petty charges. Forgettable names. The kind of defendants no one in the public would ever care about.
I should have seen it sooner.
Each of them had been charged just enough to cooperate—but not enough to collapse. Their timelines overlapped too cleanly. Their plea options were too convenient.
They weren’t being prosecuted.
They were being engineered.
I remember looking around the room, waiting for someone else to say it out loud.
No one did.
Pens moved. Strategies were discussed. Deals were shaped.
Like this was normal.
Like this was justice.
That was the moment I understood something no one had bothered to explain to me:
The case wasn’t the objective.
Control was.
And the moment I questioned that—
I stopped being part of the system.
And became its next project.
While William Johnson parked his Mercedes 500 Series in the space reserved for the Director, John Murray, a federal public defender, eased his pristine Jaguar sports car into the lot designated for attorneys.
Johnson walked confidently toward the fifth floor. At the security checkpoint he merely nodded, and the FBI guard waved him through.
“Yes sir. This way, sir.”
Murray’s experience was very different. He presented identification, stepped through a metal detector, and handed over his attaché case and personal belongings for inspection. Only after a thorough security check was he allowed to proceed.
It was another beautiful spring day in Miami, except for one thing: the public schools had begun spring break. Many government employees had taken the week off, including personnel from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. As a result, the Miami FBI building was more than half empty.
The halls of the fifth floor were unusually quiet.
With so few people around to observe or gossip, it was the perfect time for a meeting that no one would see—and therefore no one would remember.
Despite the empty hallways, the fifth-floor conference room in the North Beach FBI building was crowded. Federal prosecutors, FBI agents, and CIA officers gathered around the long table. Many were drinking coffee and laughing about the last time they had partied together.
The mood was relaxed.
Until Captain Charlie entered the room.
They called him Captain Charlie because he had served in the Charlie Unit during the Gulf War, where he made a name for himself saving an entire line of soldiers—at the cost of three American lives. His real name was Charles W. Dunn III.
The moment he walked in, the men stood.
The atmosphere changed instantly. Casual conversations stopped. The joking faded. Faces tightened into the attentive expressions of officers awaiting orders.
The air conditioning was set to sixty-five degrees, unusually cold but necessary to keep the crowded room from becoming humid. The lighting was dim enough to avoid glare, almost theatrical—like the lighting used by a stage magician to guide and manipulate an audience.
Dunn stood at the head of the table.
“We have a lot to talk about today,” he said. “So let’s get started.”
He looked slowly around the room.
“You all know me, and I expect this group to become an effective tool to show our country just how important our work is.”
His voice hardened.
“We protect citizens from criminals who steal their money, drug their sons, and rape their daughters. We will do anything necessary to defend and protect.”
He paused.
“That is our motto.”
Dunn folded his arms.
“If anyone here doesn’t have the stomach for this project, leave now before I continue. I won’t think less of you. But we only want people who can give this effort one hundred and one percent.”
The room was silent.
No one moved.
Then several voices shouted proudly.
“The one-hundred-and-one percent project!”
The name stuck instantly.
Soon everyone was referring to themselves as the “101 Team.”
The group consisted of highly trained professionals accustomed to working with Dunn. They knew he liked to give motivational speeches designed to push them harder. At first, they assumed this meeting was just another one of those speeches.
But they also knew something else.
If this project succeeded, every member of the team would gain recognition and prestige. Their reputations would rise far above colleagues who still clung to ethical limitations.
For many of them, the reward was worth the risk.
After all, when the job was done, the phrase they always used would be heard again:
“Well done, Captain Dunn.”
After a short break for coffee refills, the meeting resumed.
The discussion turned to new federal prisons scheduled to open over the next four years and how the current administration wanted to demonstrate its commitment to fighting crime.
Soon the conversation shifted to legal strategy, indictments, conspiracy statutes, and how federal law could be interpreted to expand prosecutions.
Dunn knew he was preaching to the choir.
Many of the people in the room held law degrees and had long ago learned how flexible legal rules could be when political priorities were involved.
“Our funding is under review,” Dunn continued. “If Washington decides we’re not effective, they’ll gut this division. That means more crime on the streets.”
He leaned forward.
“Right now people are getting away with murder because no one is watching. Others carry smoking guns and think they can do whatever they want because they haven’t been caught.”
He paused.
“We must catch them before they escape.”
Then he smiled slightly.
“Better yet, before they even commit the crime.”
Lunch arrived from a nearby deli, but the meeting continued as everyone ate around the table. Ideas began flying across the room, some brilliant, others reckless.
All were considered.
One attorney from the Department of Justice raised his hand.
“How about we start calling people and offering them illegal work for good money? Once they finish the job, we arrest them. We’d fill the prisons faster.”
Someone laughed.
“You’re going to start dialing numbers from the phone book?”
Another voice called out.
“No, use Google!”
The room erupted with laughter.
Another agent leaned forward.
“We could use confidential informants to spread the word. Let people hear about opportunities to make money—drugs, smuggling, whatever we want them involved in. Then we arrest them and everyone they contact.”
He grinned.
“We double or triple our caseload and pick up new informants at the same time.”
Several heads nodded.
“Sounds like a win-win situation.”
Dunn watched the discussion with satisfaction.
“I’m pleased to see the participation in this room,” he said. “You’re becoming persuasive and disciplined. We’re like a family.”
He gestured around the room.
“If everyone agrees this idea has merit, we can integrate it into the project and convince people to break the law, then arrest them.”
He shrugged.
“Local police already do this with vice stings.”
“When they can’t find enough prostitutes,” another agent added, “they send undercover female officers to entice the customers.”
Dunn nodded.
“So why can’t we do it at the federal level? Why wait for someone to commit the crime? We arrest them when they agree to commit it.”
He emphasized the key legal concept.
“Conspiracy.”
One FBI agent raised a concern.
“But how do we catch the big fish? They’re rare.”sesen
At that moment Judy Gable spoke up.
“We have money,” she said calmly. “And we can print more.”
The room turned toward her.
“Why not watch and wait until the little fish grow bigger?”
Bill Johnson suddenly spoke.
“Who said that?”
Judy looked nervous.
But Johnson smiled.
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard today.”
“Why not catch one today or tomorrow. I know a prosecutor who wants to send one directly to the Federal Detention Center. Prosecutor Peter Sluromen told me he knows the Grand Jury in the case.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“We follow small fish until they grow fat enough to catch, like a fish farm. Now we even have one on the line, good job.”
He laughed softly.
“We set the bait and let them bite until they’re ready to be reeled in.”
Dunn nodded approvingly.
“Looks like we accomplished a lot today. Tomorrow we’ll meet again at the department level. Only the heads or their representatives will attend.”
He looked around the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, excellent work.”
He paused.
“Project Fish Farm and the 101 Team will begin soon.”
The meeting ended.
As the participants left, Dunn turned to Johnson.
“Bill, can you stay for a few minutes?”
They rode the elevator to Dunn’s office on the ninth floor—the level reserved for senior leadership.
The office was luxurious. Thick golden carpeting covered the floor. Dunn’s desk was polished mahogany, matching the door and the red leather chairs arranged near a small table.
Dunn opened a hidden cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Double Black.
He poured two generous glasses.
“Ice or water?”
Johnson shook his head.
“Neat. Just like we had it in the jungle.”
Dunn handed him the glass.
The two men had known each other since their teenage years when they first entered military service. After leaving the military, they both moved into law enforcement—one rising to FBI leadership, the other to the head of the Federal Prosecutor’s Office.
Dunn took a sip.
“So Bill… how do you think it went today?”
Johnson smiled.
“You’re a genius, my friend.”
He raised his glass.
“The way you convinced them the plan was their idea, brilliant.”
Inside, Johnson had a different thought.
If the plan failed, it would be someone else’s idea.
If it succeeded, he would give credit to others and make powerful allies.
It was the perfect strategy.
Just like a race-car driver who wins the race without ever building the track.
Dunn laughed.
“Don’t give me too much credit. The ‘101 Team’ name was a lucky coincidence. And your lover, the one with small tits and big balls, deserves credit for the Fish Farm concept.”
Johnson chuckled.
“It sounded almost illegal.”
Dunn raised his glass again.
“My dear captain, it was illegal, until we made it legal in that meeting.”
Johnson grinned.
“I also appreciate you opening the door to conspiracy charges.”
Dunn laughed.
“I’ll drink to that.”
He lifted his glass.
“And to your mistress Judy.”
Johnson smirked.
“She’s a wild animal. At work and in bed.”
They finished their drinks and called it a night.
Dunn drove south to his house.
Johnson headed to his luxury condo near the beach, where Judy was waiting.
Short story
The Devil’s Got My Brain.
True to his statement to Chief Harrison, Anthony Scott returned with the complete report on “The use of combined interaction of lights of all magnitude, a cacophony of sound and a variable of effective and penetrating vibrational waves; finishing with a chemical, pharmaceutical approach if needed. This report should open your eyes to the use of mixed media intervention for the redirection of behavior in one or a group of individuals.” Anthony handed the report to Harrison.
“How many times have I told you not to cross the street when there are cars speeding! Do you want me to have a heart attack, you would like that wouldn’t you? That’s right, you would like to kill me, give me a coronary.”
Tommy sipped his cola while listening and decided it would be a clever idea to give the bitch a heart attack, but she never uses her heart, might as well take it out. That night Tommy and his best friend returned home late, dressed as intruders. The reality of this was so terrorizing that the coroner reported Tommy’s mother died of a cardiac infarction.
“You are my friend; I can’t survive without you.” He waited for a response which never came.
“You never talk or sing, but I feel good that you listen.” Feeling secure because his friend would respond by shrugging his shoulders or bowing his head in gesture. After making one of those gestures Tommy spoke up again. “Sometimes I think you’re mute.”
The night became dark, and in the morning, they enjoyed an early breakfast.
“Well, are you going to talk to me today? You never say anything.”
“Because I have nothing to say, that’s why!”
Tommy screamed. “You spoke! You spoke; this is the first time I ever heard your voice. I feel great, I finally know what you sound like. It’s a shame we killed my mother; she would have liked to hear you speak. She never believed much about you. Well, let’s talk some more. What is your name? Can I call you Willie?”
His friend responded with a smile, signaling yes, but no more sounds escaped him today.
After a few months, they conversed and spoke of violent and terrifying acts that were so wicked and evil tempting, which finally convinced Tommy to do those atrocities.
“You know, you are my only friend. Now I know why my mother would beat me with a broom, those Spanish style brooms with a wooden ‘T’ for the cloth to mop the floor. Yeah, she would say, don’t hang around with those boys, they are going to make you evil. Then she would beat the hell out of me, hit me with that ‘T’ all over my body.
“So, I stopped seeing those bad boys, before she would have killed me. Now you are my only friend and believe me, you are the badass of all. But like I said, you are also my one and only friend.”
Tommy did some dreadful things himself, always from his friend’s suggestions. After he scared his mother to death, he did evil and wicked things to little animals, then to bigger animals, and finally to people, concentrating on women. He was thinking of his mother when he killed and tortured all those innocent victims.
Tommy and friend would go out to the local pub drink a few brews, plan a few torturous acts of violence.
“Listen Willie, we are going to have some fun tonight.” They left for a devilish adventure, desecrating the high school.
“Breaking the windows with bricks is fun, but I really like breaking the head of a principle or teacher.” Tommy spoke, Willie listened and shrugged.
Then he and his friend decided to get groups of people and burn them up, just completely incinerate them in raging fires.
Tommy grew into a monster, a one-man malicious army of evil and terror, albeit unknown to the public. Everything was set up to look like an accident and he never became a suspect in all these years growing up. People who saw him would have pity that he was so lonely. He didn’t look evil to them, he looked wretched.
“Today we are going to do it, the big bang. I have enough dynamite to blow up a city block. Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah, it means we get caught. You are not ready for that yet.”
Tommy took his advice and escalated his modus operandum, killing and injuring a few at a time in fires and attacks. On one sunny morning during autumn, he demolished a small bridge to see if it would happen. After that he felt overwhelmed with joy and exuberance. The incident was listed in the police report as an inopportune accident.
“See I told you wouldn’t get caught. A freak accident, which is all it was. Now we have nothing to worry about. I want to make a name for myself.”
His friend, who now was articulating in perfect British English and with the accompanying accent. “I was the one who told you to explore this method of operation. When you are skilled, we can go further on in your career, skilled and ready. That is what the spirits want!”
They left for the movies; his friend suggested they burn down the cinema. Deaths and injuries pursued,
“This is what the spirits say, we shall work for the devil from now on.”
“Why do you keep following me around? I am getting tired of you.”
“Come on Tommy, what would you do without me!”
“For one thing, I would not be here, you gave me away. I was hiding and they saw you.
Now look at us, we are stuck in here.”
“Now don’t fret Tommy, when they hang us, you won’t see me, and I won’t see you anymore.”
“Good riddance to you. I’m tired of having you around but seems like I’ve known you forever.”
“Yeah, we did grow up together and now we’ll die together. Remember the good old days, you always had an eye on Matilda.”
“Thought I’d marry her, but her father did not like me. Said he would kill me if I didn’t stop seeing his daughter. I will never forget his expression and his cursing me.” Son of a bitch, that old man had too much going for him to allow someone in my social group to be seen with his family or friends.
“Yeah, I remember we both got rid of him, cut him up into pieces and burned his body.
And for nothing, Matilda married someone else.”
“Yeah, and we got rid of him also. Him and his barking dog, I feel bad about the dog.”
“Tommy, remember the good days; we’d dress up in a grey suit and cruise into the parking area, waiting to find action.”
“Sometimes they were more scared of you than me.”
“You are a bigger scarry guy; yes, you are.”
“You’ll be going to hell, what do you think?”
They both fell over laughing aloud. Tommy choking on his own laughter stopping to continue. “Remember the times we would go into the parking lot and beat up the boys, take all their money and watch’s and everything; but we never touched the girls, never.”
“Yeah, never bothered the girls, except those that reminded you of your mother, those you would torture to death. You were a true gentleman.” Said with a sarcastic British accent.
“Aint nothing to talk about now. That is not what’s got us here. Remember the first time we did it. I was gazing at the burning hay in the festival. Yep, that’s what it did. And you stood up laughing as the hay crackled, pieces of charred hay flying and floating in the air; that’s what convinced me. You laughed at me. Do you think we are crazy If we were crazy, they couldn’t hang us.”
“Tommy boy, if that were all we’ve done, I’d say maybe but for what we orchestrated, we are so screwed. We are gonna get hanged by the neck, the audience will applaud and turn off the television or change the channel when it’s over. What do you think?”
“We’re going to be famous, going down in history and on TV.”
“You like it now, but when it’s all over we will not see it because we will be finished, no more, not around, dead. And you’ll be in hell.”
“If it’s hell we will be there together, you and me, we did it together.” Tommy laughed so much he had to stop to catch his breath, gasping for air. “I am laughing so much I might choke to death and never see the gallows. Remember the Smiths, which was another story.”
“Yeah, we put the gasoline around the house and burned it down.”
“But we never threw gasoline on the walls, we wanted to give them a chance to escape.
Didn’t really want to hurt anybody.”
“Left all their possessions and got the dogs out.”
“I was standing in the bushes by the door and watching, with a light shining on me. You were behind me, but I never saw you. What, afraid of getting caught,”
“Never! Never afraid of getting caught. Everyone screaming, but no one got hurt.”
“Just the house went down; now that was a good barn fire.” Laughing again.
“Do you think we should talk; they might be listening in?”
“No reason to listen in, they are going to do away with us anyway. Going to miss you, my friend.”
“You won’t be around to miss me.”
Tommy shivered, his body trembling and uttered a few words. “If you’re listening, I want you to know I’ll do it again. But I’ll be better at it this time.” Tommy sensed the presence of the three judges observing him talking about his digging his own hole. He continued.
“Do you remember that bomb, if only I didn’t set that bomb; I would have to do it. I am sure you were with me.
“Never left your side, always with you. Wasn’t your fault, they made you do it.”
“Remember when we started, we had a group of millions on our side. It was legal, they all voted for me.”
“The first year was good, but then you went crazy with power,”
“I ruled like the kings of old. My word was the law. If someone objected, I would fire him or shoot him. And the ladies, I had a lot of them. They all loved me. I sat on the throne, and the world was mine. You could have stopped me but no, you never tried.”
“I tried and you never listened to me. I tried and tried but you turned your head. What do you think will happen?”
“What do you expect, I pushed the button, and the missiles took off armed with nuclear weapons. We killed millions, maybe hundreds of millions. I feel like I said it before. Just want to end it all.”
The door opened and the devil walked in. “Yes Tommy, you have said it before for 320 years and now you live like that again and again, with one significant difference. What do you want to do?”
Tommy was shaking and tearfully answered. “What is the difference?”
“We will take away your friend. Your shadow will disappear when we turn the lights on all the time. You will never see him again. After this last time.” The devil projected a scene on the walls of the parks filled with flowers and children, families eating picknicks. Thriving cities with working people. Shops and restaurants. Nothing ever occurred.
“What happened.”
The devil responded. “Nothing happened, you have become insane during all these years. Over and over, but this time you will not have your friend. There is a way out. We have an atomic vaporizer which will completely destruct your body, no pain, immediate escape to nothingness.”
Tommy walked through the door of the vaporizer and never came out.
A Friend in the Freezer
A FRIEND IN THE FREEZER
Chapter 1
The Show Goes on
The British are proud of their heritage with the concept of sophisticated entertainment and some not sophisticated amusement. Tonight was an evening of theater, hosting two of the most renown theatrical actors in Great Britain, Johnathan Stevens and William Cox. Not only were they hosting the long going work of theater, but tonight was the closing performance after a week’s stay at the township.
The show must go on and then end. This is how the last performance of “Death is Forever” closed their final presentation in the village playhouse, located in a hamlet, many kilometers from the London theaters, presented two distinguished thespians in the leading rolls.
The curtain fell for the final act; the audience gave a stand-up applause before leaving the theater. The two main actors left the stage, walking towards their dressing rooms.
“Bill, do you think we can pull this off? I know we have done it before, but never here and never this quickly. And we are getting along in age.”
“Listen Johnny, we have done this before, here, or there, what is the difference. You are aging, I feel like I am in my youth, and I am hungry for fresh blood. I know you are anxious to refresh and use your skills.” Said William Cox, a middle-aged, healthy-looking gentleman, not willing to count all his years.
“You are a courageous one, my feasting grounds is the grand old capital. I know my way around there. Ok, just one, but where can we keep it until we get home?” Johnathan Stevens said.
“We can buy a freezer and keep it in the Hotel Clever House until we get home. No one will ever catch us. Besides, this is the last act and the last audience. It is now or never. I want it now. I am hungry and want to have only pleasurable experiences in this township. And about your hunting days, let us talk. You have been hunting almost as long as I, throughout the continent. How old are you now?” William Cox said.
“I stopped counting, seems like forever. Ok, back to the prey. I want it whole, not cut up.” Stevens replied.
“Do you have any other problems?”
“Two stipulations. You know, the last time I was in, I had a good group of people with me. I do not think this is going to happen again, I am not going to get the same group. We must not be caught.” Johnathan said.
“If we get caught cannibalizing the prey, we finish our dinner and run. And the second stipulation.” William said.
“The second stipulation is that we continue to be faithful to our oath.”
The two answered in unison. “We will kill only those that deserve to die.”
“And I am sure that the one we choose deserves it! I can smell it in the air before we attack. He has killed before and will do it again “William said.
“Mental telepathy?” Johnathan said.
“No. just a hunch.” Said William, lighting his Dunhill pipe, filled with a Latakia based tobacco, and continues. “I am getting hungry!”
“Me too. I already bought the freezer yesterday.” Johnathan uttered, his brow creased and lips tight, until a wide smile appeared on his face. They both laughed.
“You are a talented actor. Do not play the part of a hungry vampire.” William said, laughing, while entering the pub.
“The club is busy tonight, good pickings. Shall I play the part of a not so hungry vampire?” Johnathan laughed.
“Good Pickings, why Johnathan, I never knew you came from the hillbillies of West
Virginia, Kentucky, and Transylvania. Which family had the fortune or misfortune to deliver you Hatfield, McCoy, or Dracula? Anyway, tonight we shall feast on prime rib.” Bill smiles, displaying four fangs, two upper and two lower canines.
“Why what big teeth you have.” Johnny smiled displaying a similar tooth configuration and continued. “I am not as anxious anymore, but I am expecting a tasty bite.”
“Why just a bite, eat as much as your heart desires, which is if you had one. Look over there, I see our dinner has arrived.” Bill gestured with his head and eying a slightly overweight man in his thirties walking towards them. He does not look innocent of crimes mandating the death penalty; I smell it.”
“Good sense of your olfactory sense. Yes, definitely guilty of something terrible and heinous. Looks more like a banquet. Yum.”
Andrew introduced himself and the three spent a couple of hours drinking and getting to know each other. Time went on and the three became closer, wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders. Part due to affection and part due to drunkenness. They were staggering as they left the establishment for the adjourning park.
“I am glad to have met the two of you, renowned theatrical stars. I would have spent the night by myself. We definitely should go somewhere secluded and enjoy ourselves if you know what I mean.” Andy suggested, slurring his words while displaying a wide smile, attempting to look innocent.
The urges for warm blood and tender meat overcame the two actors. “Let me kiss you.” Bill grinned as the two partners, one on each side, bit into the not so innocent’s neck, sucking out blood from his jugular veins and spitting it out. Never drinking fresh blood fearing it would be toxic to their immune system.
After tearing flesh from their prey, they escorted the deceased, each taking one of his arms, draping them over their shoulder, appearing as a gesture of going with an intoxicated friend to their rooms. After talking about the fabulous dinner their friend would become, they placed the dressed main course in the new freezer and settled down for a few drinks and cigars after dinner.
That next late morning, early afternoon, the gentlemen woke up.
“Have you seen the papers today, they found blood in the park. They believe that a murder was committed, which is all they said.”
“I told you not to do it in the park, we could have waited until he was in our rooms.” I cannot take this stress.”
“Do you think we could get past the matron of the house? Listen John do not get nervous now. They have no suspects and have not found the body, because you were smart enough to get that freezer so quickly.” William’s demeaner also displayed some anxiety,
Later in the morning, Bill left to hide any remains in the park from last night. He controlled his emotions when noticed a middle-aged male, dressed in a suit and tie, walking towards him. I know this has to be some police officer examining the scene looking for evidence.
“You are William Cox, and your partner is Johnathan Stevens, am I correct? I am Inspector Wilson from the Yard. Will you be able to help me with a few questions about last night’s gruesome killing.”
He sat back, content that Johnny was not here, he might have broken up. Yes, Johnathan
Stevens would have given him away, even to the Yard. Imagin if it were the feared Tribunal.
Well, you cannot eat them if you do not kill them first. Maybe the next time I will eat them live.
“Mr. Cox. Did you hear me? I am here to ask you questions about last night. Did you see anything strange happen in Birmingham Park, near the actor’s specialty pub.” Wilson had a smile on his face like Cox had, relaxed and content. Not because the inspector believed him to be the culprit of any crime, but because the police department already knew he was in the pub and if he tried to hide it, Cox would have been considered a suspect.
The conversation continued and Cox said he did not see anything out of the ordinary. He felt confident about the interrogation turning out neutral for Cox and Stevens. The reason behind his confidence was being able to hypnotize and read minds; an ability taught to him by Franz Anton Mesmer himself in the early eighteen hundreds. Cox returned to the rented rooms but intentionally neglected to inform Johnathan of the meeting with the Inspector. I will tell him at dinner; he might be a little more relaxed while eating. He then recalled his thoughts about being trained by Dr. Mesmer, it was always very efficient and exact but with the inspector there seemed to be a wall surrounding his thoughts. It was blocking Cox’ ability to use his telepathy. Could it be that our friendly Scotland Yard Inspector is actually one of the family members? Imagine one of the Yard is one of us, from our family. Why not, there are many from the family that had been instrumental in the government.
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