by Roy Glenn
“Yes.”
“Well, there you go. If there was going to be any charges, you’d be under arrest now. I never told Gineconna anything.”
“I understand that, Chanté. What I don’t understand is why, Chanté? Wasn’t that your job?”
“You’re right, it was, but something happened to change all that. I wasn’t completely honest with myself, Jada, ’cause if I were, I woulda had to admit to myself who I really was, because I loved being Chanté. The truth was that I found your lifestyle exciting. I mean look at yourself, Jada, you always wear the finest clothes, you get chauffeured around, and you’re making mad money. But it was more than that, Jada. I came to like you. We became friends.” That one made me smile on the inside because that’s how I saw her, as a friend.
“That’s deep, Chanté. The cop and the Madam … friends.”
“Ain’t it?” Chanté laughed.
“What are you gonna do now, Chanté?” I asked her.
“I don’t know.”
“Wanna go get a drink?”
“I could definitely use one.”
“Come on then,” I said and got in the car. Chanté got in the passenger seat and broke out her sunglasses. As I drove off, I thought about the fact that it wasn’t all about the money at all. In the end, the money didn’t matter at all. It was about friendship.
In A Cold Sweat
In A Cold Sweat
Roy Glenn
© Copyright Roy Glenn 2011
Escapism Entertainment
Atlantic Beach, Florida
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
Chapter One
“Talk to me, Travis,” Jackie screamed into her headset and hoped this time Travis would respond. It had been more than five minutes since she had lost contact with him. Just before that, Jackie heard what sounded like gunshots blaring in the background. She put on her night vision goggles, dimmed the lights on her stolen Hummer and continued to search for him.
“Come on, Travis, talk to me.”
Now, Jackie began to realize why Nick Simmons old partner, Monika Wynn, passed on this job and recommended that she and Travis do the same. After working with Travis on the surveillance of Martin Marshall, Monika thought that she could make use of Travis’s computer skills. He had been a programmer by trade before the system dealt him a bad hand and he, in turn, became a high-tech robber.
Back in those days, Travis was known as Mr. Blue, Jackie was Mr. White, and their friend, Ronnie Grier, went by the name Mr. Green. They were all college graduates, and all were victims of corporate layoffs and downsizing. They’d rob banks, grocery stores, and jewelry stores. In this new career, which he seemed to have mastered so well, his programmer’s attention to detail proved useful in planning the jobs they ran.
That combination of skills was just what Monika, who was ex-army special operations, was looking for, since she desperately needed a new partner. So, when one of her contacts, Jack Faulkner, approached her with this job, she brought Travis along to hear what he had to say. They met at Nita Nita in Brooklyn. Over cocktails, Jack began to explain the job.
“Multi-core processors,” Jack said to Monika when she asked what the job was.
“What?” Monika asked, not having the slightest idea of the words Jack had just thrown at her.
“Multi-core processors, Monika,” Travis answered for Jack, seemingly excited at just the mention of the words. “It’s a computer processor made for servers.”
“Oh,” Monika simply said. “And this means something to me, why?”
“Multiplying the number of cores brings distinct advantages,” Travis said, and Monika rolled her eyes. He can be such a geek sometimes, Monika thought. “First, it cuts down overall energy consumption for equivalent levels of performance.”
“Aye!” Monika was less than enthusiastic. She turned to Jack. “You gotta excuse Travis.”
“It’s okay, babe. I like a man who knows the value of things,” Jack said and raised his glass to Travis. At the same time, he reached under the table in a briefcase and then handed a Multi-core processor to Monika.
She appeared unimpressed as she looked the small square object over carefully and handed it to Travis. “So, tell me again why I should be excited about this?”
Once Jack cut right to the chase and explained to Monika what they were worth and how much he’d pay them to steal a shipment of them, he had her undivided attention. But when he showed them a layout of the building and broke down the security, Monika said, “Thanks, but we’ll pass.”
A disappointed Jack stood up. “I understand; but think it over. If you change your mind, I’ll be here same time tomorrow.”
After they left Jack, Travis and Monika argued over why she turned the job down. “Too much risk, Travis,” Monika said as she looked over to the passenger seat at Travis as she drove. “It’s just that fuckin’ simple. The level of sophistication on the security system Jack laid out is more than we need to be fuckin’ with!” she shouted.
“Come on, Monika, I can handle it!” Travis shouted back, slightly offended at the chance that his comrade might be doubting his skills.
Monika took a deep breath and looked at Travis. “Then you do it.” She returned her attention to the road.
Travis relaxed, and slowly a smile eased across his lips. “You serious?”
“Sure. If you’re so fuckin’ sure that you can handle it, be my guest. Go see Jack tomorrow and tell him you’ll do it. But if you do, don’t look to me for any support. I’m talking equipment, personnel, intel, nothing,” Monika said angrily as she accelerated, leaving smoke in her trail.
The next day Travis was back at Nita Nita to talk to Jack and accepted the job. The first person he went to was Jackie. She was the best getaway driver he knew. Naturally, she was down for anything that meant money. Since their other partner, Ronnie, had been murdered, Travis recruited Eddie Parker, a good man with weapons, to fill in his team. Parker’s only assignment on this job was to watch Travis’s back.
The processors were in a warehouse on Wales Avenue near Southern Boulevard by Bruckner Boulevard. Travis was confident that his skill at planning a job would minimize the risk.
But it didn’t work out that way.
Jackie backed the Hummer up to the fence, and armed with AK47’s and nine millimeters, Travis and Eddie Parker jumped over the fence on the far south end of the property. That was the only easy part of the job, as the perimeter was not secured with cameras.
Travis and Parker made their way toward the building under the cover of night. Once they reached the building, they would have to disable the alarm system before they could go any further.
“You have to bypass an integrated security environment built around an access control system that is capable of capturing and processing any intrusion alarm system breach,” Jack had explained to Travis when he accepted the job. “Door or window contact, glass breaking, or motion detection. It’s sensitive to environmental changes like fire, and temperature, so don’t blow anything up. Even changes in the humidity in the joint will trigger an alarm,” Jack laughed.
“How about we just shut down the power?” Travis asked.
“No can do. Change in video events, video motion detection, or even loss of video feed will set off the alarm. Now when that happens, alerts are sent to security with an image; as long as the phone lines are attached to the access control server, of course. A pre-recorded voice call is made directly to any phone, including mobile phones, which of course includes the police.”
“How do we bypass it?” Parker asked.
Jack laughed. “That, of course
, is your problem.”
Now that they were at the building, Travis and Parker went to as secluded a spot as they could find. Travis took off his backpack and pulled out a laptop computer to hack into the access control software. Days earlier, he had done a test and was able to successfully access the system and navigate his way around without detection. In an effort to test security and police response time, Travis set off a fire alarm. Police and fire were on the scene in eight minutes.
In addition to his laptop, Travis took out a C-Guard Cellular Firewall, which he had used on jobs many times.
“What’s that?” Parker asked.
“It is a cellular jamming device that broadcasts a junk signal, it floods the cellular frequencies, or sets up fake signals. Once I hack into their systems, I’ll engage the C-Guard so the system loses its signal and cuts-off communications between cellular handsets and its cellular base-station, just in case we trip an alarm.”
“But that’s not gonna happen, right?” Parker made it sound more like a statement than a question.
“No, because once I have access to the system, I’ll be able to shut down all the security protocols and basically trick the system into thinking it’s still active.”
“You sure about that?”
“Trust me,” Travis said and proceeded to do his work.
Once the system was in what Travis called safe mode, they entered the building and made their way to the objective without being detected. Travis opened the safe and then covered while Parker secured the processors in a backpack and put it on his back.
The trouble began right then.
Travis had just closed the safe, when the lights in the room suddenly came on. “Hold it right there!” the security guard yelled with his weapon drawn. Parker turned quickly and immediately opened fire.
“No!” Travis yelled. Parker had hit the security guard with two shots to the chest.
They turned off the light and walked out into the hallway where they were confronted by two more armed guards. Suddenly lights came on and the whaling sound of the alarm rang throughout the halls. Travis fired a round of shots in the direction of security and he and Parker took off running in the opposite direction.
At the end of the hall, they were cut off from the exit by more security, which opened up on them on sight. Travis and Parker ran down the hall until it forked off in two directions. Parker stopped and turned.
“This way!” he yelled, as he shot wildly at security and ran down the hallway.
“No!” Travis shouted to him. He had memorized the floor plan and knew if they went that way they’d be trapped. “This way!”
Parker stopped in his tracks and ran back toward Travis, who was firing down the hall at security. “I’ll cover while you make it across.”
Parker nodded his head and Travis moved out into the open and fired. Parker ran out, but he was hit almost immediately by a shot to his head. Travis watched Parker’s body fall to the ground.
“Shit!”
He was dead.
As blood oozed across the floor, Travis made an attempt to grab the pack from Parker’s back. The gunfire was too intense, and his body was too far away to reach it without getting shot himself.
Upset that he was leaving without the processors, but thinking only about escaping with his life, Travis ran as fast as he could toward what he knew to be an exit.
Once outside, Travis made his way around the building looking for more security. He broke radio silence and called for Jackie.
“Mr. Blue to Mr. White. Extraction necessary; proceed to the rendezvous point…Ahhhh,” he screamed in pain. “Travis!” Jackie yelled forgetting about their code names, but Travis didn’t respond.
He had been shot in the leg and couldn’t make it back the way he came. Travis returned fire and as best he could, limped back inside the building.
As quickly as possible, Travis made his way to the front entrance of the building. He figured that with security looking for him outside, this would be the safest way to go. Travis felt himself getting weak. That’s when he felt the sharp pain and put his hand on the side of his stomach. He’d taken a bullet there as well and was losing blood.
Now at the front entrance, Travis stood in the shadows and peered out the door. He saw a security vehicle drive by and head toward the corner. Once the vehicle was out of sight, Travis opened the door and was startled by the alarm. He moved as quickly as he could down the street. Once he was far enough away from the building, Travis called Jackie. “Jackie!” Travis called out into his mike. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you, Travis. Are you all right? I thought I heard shooting,” Jackie said, relieved to finally hear his voice.
“I’m hit, Jackie,” Travis managed to say. “One in the leg and the other in the gut.”
“How bad is it?” Jackie asked excitedly.
“It’s bad.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know exactly. I made it out of the warehouse, but I don’t know where I am,” Travis told her. He limped to the corner and looked up at the street sign. “I’m on the corner of 144th and Wales by a transmission joint, hiding behind a blue Thunderbird.”
“Hold on, Travis, I’m coming for you.” It didn’t take long for Jackie to find Travis. She got out of the Hummer to help Travis get in. “Where’s Parker?”
“He’s dead, took one to the head..”
“Damn,” Jackie said, and got back into the Hummer. “I gotta get you to a hospital.”
“No!” Travis shouted at her. “Call Freeze.”
Chapter Two
Mylo sat in the corner of the room while the poker game went on; just as he did every night since Freeze put him in charge of the high stakes game that Mike Black himself used to run. Black controlled a profitable and expanding business that now included real estate, entertainment, finance and construction companies, in addition to burial services. But, over the years, Black made his real money in gambling, extortion, number running and prostitution. Black and his childhood friend Bobby Ray started out collecting for a local dealer named Andre' Harmon. Enforcing Andre's law earned Mike the nickname Vicious Black, but everybody called him Black.
Mylo had made himself useful and practically indispensable to Freeze. But, he earned his post after he snitched on Birdie and Albert. At that time, Freeze had convinced himself that they were responsible for the brutal murder of Mike Black’s wife, Cassandra. Everybody called her Shy, except Black, he preferred to call her by her government name.
Mylo told Freeze that Birdie and Albert were hiding out in Atlantic City, and he and Nick took care of everything from there. Mylo was able to get that useful bit of information because he was not only working for Freeze, but he was selling drugs for Birdie and Albert as well.
It began one night when Mylo told Albert that he couldn’t live off the scraps Freeze was throwing him. Without telling Birdie, Albert gave Mylo a package, which he flipped, and his buys got bigger and bigger until Mylo had become one of their best earners.
“And you’re able to do this without Freeze knowing?” Albert had asked Mylo.
“They ain’t organized like they used to be. Black and Bobby is out. They don’t even fuck with the shit no more. I couldn’t tell you the last time I even saw Bobby. I’m telling you, Freeze ain’t the nigga y’all think he is,” Mylo boasted.
Mylo knew that the time would come when he would have to get out, so before that happened; he wanted to have enough money to retire on. But there was another side of Mylo; one that Birdie and Albert, and especially Freeze, didn’t know about. Mylo was, in reality, a rogue DEA agent.
His real name was Clint Harris and he’d been working deep cover assignments for the last five years. His job was to work his way into the target organization, gather information, and then bring the whole thing down. That had been his life, until his handler didn’t show up for their weekly conversation. At that point, he was on his own. That is… until fellow DEA agent Kenneth DeFrancisco brough
t him in. “You work for me now,” DeFrancisco said when he first approached Mylo.
“What do I have to do?” Mylo asked.
“Exactly what you do. I put you in position; you make contact and work your way in, then report to me.”
“No problem,” Mylo responded, knowing that it couldn’t be that simple.
“There’s only one minor difference. You’re not there looking for evidence of a drug conspiracy; you’re there to create one.”
It was DeFrancisco that put Mylo in touch with Albert; but then DeFrancisco went to jail and left Mylo out here again making crazy money with no handler.
Birdie and Albert’s deaths were responsible for something other than Mylo getting a primo spot, running the game. Their demise also gave birth to The Commission.
After Birdie and Albert’s funeral, Mylo and several of the dealers that had bought from them got together to pour out a little liquor for their homies. It didn’t take long before Black was the topic of conversation.
“You know it was Freeze that killed Birdie and Albert’s boys,” Bruce Stark told the gathering after his fourth drink. “In broad daylight at a red light,” Stark testified.
“That nigga ain’t no joke,” Kevin Murdock, who liked to be called K Murder, confirmed.
Mylo laughed. “That nigga ain’t all that, trust me.”
“He bad enough to scare you out the game,” Stark said quickly.
“True that. But I consider that health insurance.”
“How you figure that, Mylo?” K Murder asked.
“These niggas claim to want to co-exist peacefully with drug dealers, but the proof says that these mutha fuckas delight in killing drug dealers,” Mylo said.
“You ain’t told no lie there. Since Black made peace with Chilly, that nigga ain’t done nothing but kill mutha fuckas,” Steven Cash Money Blake said. “He killed Chilly and Rocky.”
