by K Elliott
Brian said, "You probably never even read any of her scripts."
"Romance novels. She says they're good, but I rather just take her word for it. Too soft for me." He looked at Sheree again as she stared out the window at the trees. He wondered what she was thinking. He checked his rearview mirror and said, "Brian, I'll call you back. I'm getting pulled by a highway patrolman."
CHAPTER 17
FBI SPECIAL AGENTS Leonard Burke and Quinton Moss were seated at a table in the food court of a Los Angeles mall. They were dressed in plain clothes and were watching Hassamir's Jewelry store. At nearly three in the afternoon, the mall was fairly busy for a Sunday.
Special Agent Burke said, "See the woman with the black handbag and cream-colored pants?"
Moss said, "That's her."
The agents headed toward the jewelry store, allowing their target to get there nearly twenty seconds ahead of them.
The target spoke briefly with the owner, Hassamir Akhan, then walked around the main showcase and disappeared behind a door marked Employees Only.
Hassamir was on his way up front to lock entrance doors to his store when a black man and a white man entered. Hassamir said to them, "I am sorry, but we are closed for the day."
The black guy, Special Agent Moss, stopped in front of Hassamir and said, "That's a good thing, since we're here to search your store." He displayed his FBI credentials.
Burke produced a handgun from his waistband and cautiously moved toward the Employees Only door.
Moss began pat-searching Hassamir and said, "The website you visited forty minutes ago is gonna get you life in prison for conspiracy to commit murder and terrorism, even though the damn thing froze-up on you."
"I don't know what it is you are speaking of," Hassamir said with a Middle-Eastern accent.
"Sure you do. And I have a feeling that the three phone calls you made to certain prepaid phones are leading to three more arrests as we speak."
Agent Burke kept the handgun drawn in his right hand as he eased the door open with his left. He saw the target with her back toward him. She was strapping on a suicide bomber's vest, one that had obviously come from the box that was next to her on the floor. The room served as an office and storage room, but it was a neatly kept area.
Before turning around the woman said, "Yours in in the box."
Burke walked closer and said, "I don't want it unless it's gift-wrapped."
The woman spun around quickly, surprised by the sound of the voice.
"FBI. Put your hands up and away from the vest. Now!"
But Norma Belmont ignored the order and instead gripped the detonation cord that hung from the front of her suicide vest.
"Shoot me only if you're ready to die." She slowly wrapped the cord around her hand once. "The slightest pull of this cord and this entire store is history, and the devastation is certain to extend at least fifty feet beyond the store in all directions."
But that wasn't what Norma wanted. The center of the mall was actually the food court area. Maximum casualties and damage were expected, issue Allah, and Norma didn't want to fail. She'd been secretly radicalized over the years, and her husband was to blame. First proselytized and then brainwashed in under seven years. She said, "You're going to allow me to walk to the food court so that I can make some demands." But she had no idea who she was fucking with.
Burke said, "I have a better idea." He pulled the trigger once shooting Norma just below the neck, then rushed to stop her right hand from reacting convulsively. Horrible plan. He was quick enough to reach her hand in time, but the weight of her falling body was too much.
CHAPTER 18
AGAIN, IF YOU'RE JUST joining us, we have breaking news concerning two successive explosions at the West Valley Mall in downtown Los Angeles."
Brian and Janelle were enjoying dinner in his hotel suite when Janelle tuned in to a cable news channel. The 42-inch flat-panel television displayed a black, female reporter in the parking lot of the mall. The background was busy with police, firefighters, medical workers, evacuated shoppers, fire, smoke, and partial building damage. Brian simply shook his head.
Janelle said, "Does this have anything to do with the Abul guy-"
He held up a hand, wanting to hear more details.
" . . . with twenty-four dead, including two FBI agents," the reporter said. "While still not confirmed as a terrorist act, an inside source strongly believes that it is. The names of the agents have not been released . . ."
Brian made a call to Teresa Groove, his FBI source.
The reporter said, "This just in: The two FBI agents killed in the blast were reportedly investigating an al Qaeda terror plot that led to Hassamir's Jewelry, a store that's been in this mall for five years. No word yet on whether . . ."
Brian said, "Teresa, what happened with the other three - "
Teresa said, "They made arrests in San Francisco, Oakland and Sacramento, but I can't talk right now. I'll call you later," and she ended the call without more.
The reporter said, " . . . Now that this had been confirmed as an act of terror, many will want to know what steps the Obama Administration will take to ramp up efforts to defeat al Qaeda." The reporter kept talking while a young kid could be seen waving for camera attention.
Brian said to Janelle, "There were five bombs, and two of them went off at the mall. The Feds made three arrests in different parts of California, so . . . hopefully that's the end of that."
"Yeah, hopefully," she said. "The world is getting more dangerous."
"It's always been dangerous. People been blowing up malls, hotels, embassies, schools, and even buses for years. Terrorists seem more active when they hit here, but people overseas feel the same way."
"You almost sound like you're into politics or world affairs."
"Most of that shit is over my head, but I watch the news every now and then."
Janelle said, "Let's go for a walk." She got up from the small table.
"We're in the middle of a seventy-dollar dinner and you wanna walk?"
"We'll put it up. We're not too cute to eat it when we get back. Let's walk for an hour and talk."
He got up from the table now. "As you wish, but I wanna know what's on your mind before we leave."
She walked up to him, pulled at his neck, and kissed him softly on his lips. "Pasadena is beautiful, but I don't want to live here right now because it's too expensive, even for the apartment we looked at. I know you have money for a one-year lease and can option out after six months, but I don't want you to work the rest of your Godsend cases."
"Janelle, I told you I only have six more cases to work before I-"
"I know. I know. But I don't even want you to work one more."
Brian held her waist. "The explosion got you worried. I'll probably never run across another terrorist in my lifetime, baby. Besides, I already promised Echo that I would work six more with him, and he's depending on the money because he's calling it quits too."
She hugged him and rested her head against his chest.
He said, "I should be finished in April, I guess." He grabbed her ass and squeezed it with both hands. "Find us a nice house, not an apartment, somewhere in the bottom half of California. Surprise me."
CHAPTER 19
ECHO HAD PULLED off to the side of an exit ramp of I-125 North, in a small city called Perris. Sheree was calm as she began using her Android phone to stream live audio to her website.
Officer Lou Hearst, a fifty-year-old veteran highway patrolman, stopped at the driver's window of the Mercedes.
Echo passed his license, registration, and proof of insurance cards through the lowered window.
Officer Hearst said, "Good afternoon." He leaned forward a little and saw the uninterested white woman in the passenger's seat.
Echo said, "Good afternoon."
"Do you know why I pulled your vehicle?"
"Write it on the ticket, sir. I'll figure it out if your handwriting ain't bad."
The officer smiled as he shuffled through the cards. "Mr. Harrison, are you the owner of this vehicle?"
"You just saw Sheree Lockhart's name on the registration card." Echo directed a thumb toward Sheree. "It's her car."
"Is she your wife?"
"Nope. We're just fucking. Officer, I think you pulled me over to write a ticket. Why all the questions?"
"Mr. Harrison, are you under the influence of any alcohol or drugs?"
Echo sighed. "Negative. Now run your 10-28, your 10-29 and a 10-39 on my license so I can go."
He smiled at Echo. "Nigger-boy, you have a smart fucking mouth. Keep it up and your ass will be going to jail."
This time Echo smiled.
Officer Hearst looked at Sheree and said, "Ma'am, are you the owner of this vehicle?"
"Yes. I sure am."
"Have any I.D. on you?" He watched as she slipped a hand inside her leather handbag. "If you're being held against your will by this man, you need to let me know right now."
Echo said, "Man, you're stuck in the 1950's or something. Stop fooling yourself like I ain't deep-dicking this white girl. When you pulled me over, she started recording your stupid ass, and now its available on a public website. You're trying your best to get suspended without pay during a recession. That racial slur and Jim Crow attitude might get you a promotion, but I wouldn't bet on it."
The officer threw the cards back inside the car. Arresting the driver or even issuing a ticket would likely make matters worse. The passenger's audio was not going to let Officer Hearst take any of his words back. "Stay off your cell phone while driving, Mr. Harrison." He headed back to his vehicle.
Echo slowly drove away from the scene. "If I woulda had anything illegal in the car, I woulda been the nicest driver that cop ever met."
Sheree said, "When are you and Brian going to quit Godsend?"
Echo shrugged. "We'll take a month off then work six more cases, so I don't know an exact date."
She turned in her seat towards him. "Since I know how it operates, can I keep the service running?"
Echo laughed. "You? You need some tough ass guys who ain't scared to get their hands extra muddy sometimes."
"I know quite a few of them. Don't forget what type of business I was in when we met. In fact, I even have a street-savvy woman in mind, as well as two other guys."
Echo thought about it. "Let me run it by my cousin. If he approves, it's probably gonna cost you."
"I hope he accepts payment plans."
CHAPTER 20
SHEREE SAT ON THE SOFA in Brian's hotel suite. "I'll still charge seventy-five thousand per case, and my three workers would get ten each."
Brian was standing near the other end of the sofa. He could hear the shower running; Janelle was waiting for him. "And you want me and Echo to show your workers the ropes, but you can't afford to pay for that?"
Sheree said, "I said I can't afford to pay you up front. Will you work a payment plan out with me?"
"Okay, Sheree. Ten percent. Pay me ten percent of everything you make with Godsend for one year."
She said, "Deal. Wait. Will I have to pay Echo too?"
Brian shook his head. "I'll split the ten with Echo. Get your workers together; I'll meet them at your apartment tomorrow at noon. If I don't like one of them, the deal is off until you find a suitable replacement or agree to work with less help."
The next day Brian and Echo got out of the Yukon and headed toward Sheree's apartment. Echo said, "So all five cell phones were prepaid and bought by Norma."
"Yep. The phones were for communicating with suicide bombers, not triggers for hidden bombs. Norma took Abul's place, but he had prepared her for it."
They reached Sheree's apartment door. Echo said, "That bitch was good. She tricked the shit out of me." He inserted his key and they entered the apartment. There were three new faces in Sheree's front room-a black woman, a black man, and a white man. The white man and black woman were on the sofa, the black man was in an arm chair, and Sheree was in a love seat.
Brian closed the door and walked up to the black guy. "Let me get this chair. Sit over there with Sheree."
The man complied.
Echo sat on the sofa, between the black man and white guy.
Brian said, "I'm sure Sheree has explained a lot of the details, so you know what this is about. I'm Brian, and he's Echo. Introduce yourselves, your real names, ages, and tell me what you're bringing to the table that's worth ten grand per case." He pointed at the black woman first.
"I'm Kiandra Robertson, age twenty-six." She was pretty and built nicely, but she looked stronger than the average black woman. "I did two years in a State prison for stabbing a woman in a street fight, but I've been out for five years now."
Brian said, "Scared of guns?"
"Not at all," she said. "I'm strapped as we speak."
Echo watched her and said, "A female version of me."
Brian said to her, "Would you fuck a witness or suspect for information?"
All eyes were on her now, but still she said, "Depends on how I feel that day and whether or not the information could actually lead to my ten grand. I know women who fuck for twenty-dollars; some fuck for fun."
"You don't have to explain any further." Brian pointed at the white man on the other side of Echo.
"Ezra Timothy Carpenter, thirty-three. Nickname Etcetera because of my initials. Never been to prison." He was handsome enough and about the size of Brian. "I'm fast, athletic. To be honest, I'm not a people person, but I like figuring shit out; I don't care if it's a mystery movie, a jigsaw puzzle, or an escape route."
Brian smiled then pointed to the black man next to Sheree. "Derrick Freemont, forty-two. No prison time, unless county jail counts. I beat a murder case. Most people like me off first impression." He was a big man, more in height than width, but he looked confident and powerful. "It's hard to fool me, and I read people really well."
Brain said, "Oh, yeah? Let's hope so." He scanned their faces again.
Echo said, "If Sheree calls you tomorrow, you're hired. The first six cases will be your training, and you won't get paid for them. You'll be working with me and Brian, but we'll cover some expenses like hotels when necessary, food, and transportation. You'll each get fifteen hundred dollars per month to take care of home while in training. If that ain't enough to help out, then fuck you. Me and Brian will be your bosses during training, but Sheree will take over after that."
Brian said, "One more thing: We will recoup that fifteen-hundred-dollars monthly allowance out of your first check."
Echo said, "And if you accept that money then decide to turn down the private-eye job at Godsend after all the training, make sure you got another way to pay that money back. Me and my man are cold case experts-solving them and causing them-so don't play with that money."
GODSEND by K. Elliott
Godsend is an addictive thriller series with a private eye agency that has no rule book. The members are murderers investigating cold case homicides, abductors looking into missing person cases.
Here is the Godsend schedule:
A Necessary Evil.
The Search for Rochelle.
Pissed All the Way Off.
Hiding in Plain Sight.
Blashpemy Out West.
All Jokes Aside.
The Halo Effect.
The Value of a Woman.
THE WEIGHT OF ECHO (a full-length novel).
Square in the Mouth.
That Stupid Hooker.
Taken For Granite.
The Audacity.
Selling Woof Tickets.
Ass to Kiss.
Kill Somebody Else.
Shots Fired.
Natural Causes.
6 O'Clock News.
OUTLINE OF A MONSTER (a full-length novel).
Read them all before you die! Warning: Side effects include jitters resulting from constant suspense, goose bumps caused by sudden thrills, embarrassing arousals, and injurious laughter that
may lead to severe headaches and stomach cramps.
K. Elliott Books Also available at:
http://www.21blackstreet.com/
Contents
CONTENTS
Godsend: The Search for Rochelle
Godsend: Pissed All the Way Off
Godsend: Hiding in Plain Sight
Godsend: Blasphemy Out West
