by Margaret Kay
“Yeah, we don’t have to go back until Wednesday.”
“Can we go into Chicago? I’d love to see Millennium Park, Grant Park, maybe the view from atop the Willis Tower, or Sears Tower, whatever it’s called. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day tomorrow, sunny and clear, upper seventies.”
Sloan gazed over her face. She looked at him with pleading, puppy dog eyes. He’d really prefer not to. He was hoping for a day spent in bed with her, just the two of them. But he did realize she’d been alone and in this house most of the five days. “Sure, babe, whatever you want to do. You plan the day and we’ll do it.”
She smiled wide and hugged him. “Great, thank you! You could even invite Brian along if you’d like.”
“No way. I am not sharing you with anyone tomorrow.”
Their day in the city was fun. Kennedy hadn’t seen the sights like they did. She’d only been in town a half-dozen times over the past twelve years, usually the tour bus rolling in before sunset and back out again after midnight when the concert was wrapped up. She took tons of pictures of the two of them on her phone, planning to print a few out to display in the condo.
Sloan saw a more relaxed and natural Kennedy. She laughed more than she had since they’d been reunited. They held hands like teenagers as they walked around the tourist attractions. He was glad he had agreed to take her downtown. Not only did they take in the places she wanted to see, they went to Navy Pier and rode the big Ferris wheel. They got home much later than he would have liked, well after dinner, which they also ate downtown.
Saying goodbye to Gary the next morning, knowing he’d be gone for another week was hard. She’d had such a great day with him in the city and she knew she’d miss him. But she had an assignment to focus on, learning everything a music teacher should know. Thank God for the internet!
It was Friday evening. Sloan had left on his mission two days earlier. Sienna invited Kennedy over to talk about the position at her school and help her fill out the online application. Kennedy had gotten the updated file the day before from the Marshals, well, Garcia had delivered it to her. She was disappointed. They’d left her name as Kennedy Lee Cole. She was hoping for Kaylee, though Garcia was quick to remind her she could go by whatever she wanted. Legal name and preferred name were different for many.
Even though the television was on the news, the two women paid little attention to it. Sienna was schooling her in what a music teacher should know and how Kennedy should answer questions when interviewed for the position. Sienna shared all the current buzz words in education that her principal and the Superintendent of Schools for their district wanted to hear. Kennedy took notes. She wanted this position so bad.
Garcia came through the door and was greeted by Bailey, the chocolate lab, who’d been lying by their feet. The television caught Kennedy’s eye. The news reported that Phil was released from jail, out on bail. Her chest seized up and her blood ran cold. Sienna and Garcia’s voices were drowning out the television. “Be quiet!” She stood and walked right up to the television.
“Kaylee, what’s wrong?” Sienna asked.
Kennedy’s head snapped around so that her eyes glared at Garcia. “Did you know about this?”
His jaw was set tight. He nodded slowly. “He flipped on the others. No charges have been dropped against him, but he’s out on bail, wearing a monitor around his ankle. He’s under house arrest.”
“No fucking way! This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of them were supposed to get bail.”
“Calm the fuck down,” Garcia warned in a low voice. “This is how it works. He had to have an incentive to give up info on the others. He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be back in jail fast enough, convicted on all counts against him. So, he gets a few months to enjoy his lavish lifestyle? It’s temporary.”
“Was anyone going to tell me? Or was everyone just hoping I wouldn’t see the news?”
Sienna’s eyes bounced between the two of them. Then the newscaster jumped to a new development in the case against Abe Gallway, new charges related to the death of aspiring singer, Kennedy Lee Bristow. Her picture and a recap of her murder weeks earlier in Cleveland was then reported. The story also mentioned Melody Sawyer in relation to Stanley Angus and rumors of her disappearance being tied to the Abe Gallway case. Both girl’s pictures were displayed, sending chills through every part of Kennedy’s body.
“Get Shepherd on the phone!” She demanded.
Garcia shook his head no. “Not happening. Now calm down.”
Sienna stared at the picture on the television of the two blond women. “That’s you, isn’t it? You’re Melody?”
Kennedy stopped; her frightened eyes fixed on Sienna. She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Melody was the one killed at my parent’s house in Cleveland. I’m Kennedy,” she admitted.
Sienna’s hand covered her own mouth as she gasped. Tears filled her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She wrapped Kennedy in a hug. “Kaylee, my God, you’ve been through a lot. You were there when it happened. Weren’t you?”
Kennedy nodded yes against her.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. The report says you two were friends.”
Kennedy’s eyes went to Garcia’s. He nodded yes.
“We were best friends. And I found out after she was dead that she was actually my twin sister. I was adopted but never knew.” She paused and fought the frown that pulled her lips down. “My life is really fucked up. I’m probably not the person anyone would want as a teacher for their kids.”
“I happen to think you are a very nice, sweet person. Just the person I would want. You’ve been through some stuff, who hasn’t? Seems to me you’d be able to empathize with kids going through rough times.”
“Kaylee,” Garcia said. “The FBI put your deposition under Melody’s name to keep the secret that you’re alive, but you’re not out of the woods. Realistically, someone could be looking for Melody. We still haven’t gotten a bead on those two hit men.”
“How hard can it be to identify two men who were on Abe’s payroll?”
“It’s proving to be harder than we thought it would be,” Garcia said. “I know this is hard, but you have to trust us. You’re safe, even though Phil is out on bail and we haven’t identified those hit men.”
“How did the reporters get that story on me and Melody to tie to Stan, Abe, and Pete?”
Garcia wrapped both Kaylee and Sienna in a hug. “I don’t know. It happens. It all went down so close together, Kennedy’s murder and the arrests in L.A. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to put it together that there was a possible connection. It sounds to me like that reporter was just fishing. The good news is, no one has Kaliah’s name. That’s one thing that kid doesn’t need.”
“Agreed,” Kennedy said. “I’d gladly testify if it came down to her or me. She deserves to live in peace and put that all behind her. I sure hope she’s getting some counseling.”
“She is, don’t worry,” Garcia replied. He released them from his embrace. “And you won’t have to testify at all. There are over one hundred accusations from other women against those four men and Stan Angus. You can go about your new life and not have to revisit any of that.”
Kennedy dried her tears. “Yes, I’ve spent enough time, anguish, and energy pursuing a career that wasn’t meant to be. I am really looking forward to life with Gary as a school music teacher. I really think I can help kids learn about what music can do for them. It’s not all performing on stage. It gives confidence and brings happiness to people both when performing and when just listening. Music builds bridges between people of all diverse backgrounds. It both energizes and calms. It brings meaning to people’s lives, struggles, loves, and memories. It can bring shy kids out of their shells. It’s powerful.”
“Now that is exactly what you want to say to our principal and our Superintendent of Schools when you’re interviewed,” Sienna said. “I’ve flipped through this resume the Marshals built you. You are sure to get an interview. Just k
eep running through those articles I loaded the links to in your laptop and keep repeating those buzz words they want to hear. That’s what education is these days, inclusion, maximizing every child’s potential, you know, be everything to everyone with a limited budget and little parental involvement.” Sienna giggled. “Okay, not that last part.”
Kennedy laughed with her. She sure hoped she could pull it off!
Victor
Gary was home for a few days and then left right away on his next mission. He made her feel better about the fact that Phil was under house arrest by agreeing with Garcia that it was how it worked. For Phil to give up needed info on the other men, there had to be an incentive. It didn’t mean he would get off of any charges. Gary too guaranteed her she was safe. And she believed him.
After he’d left, she realized that they had settled into an easy routine. It was predictable and normal. While he was gone, Kennedy studied all she needed to pull off the façade of an experienced elementary school music teacher. When she got the call for the interview, she was ready. Nervous and ecstatic, but also ready.
She wished Gary would have been home the day of her interview. She really would have loved a hug from him before she left the house. He did send her a text though, sending positive vibes, and confidence that she’d do great. He also told her to call when she left the interview to let him know how it went.
‘Leave me a voicemail if I don’t pick up. I want to hear your voice,’ his text said.
She wasn’t sure where he was, just some place in the United States. She figured he’d be home in a few days based on the past schedule of missions. She switched her phone to silent and tucked it away. Then she got out of the car and walked as confidently as she could into the building.
After leaving the interview with the principal and the Superintendent of the District’s Schools, Kennedy hit dial as soon as she had backed out of her parking space. “Baby, I nailed it. I know I did!” Kennedy spoke excitedly into the car as soon as Gary answered the phone. She loved the fact that Gary’s car had all the bells and whistles, including a Bluetooth stereo that automatically paired with her phone as soon as she started the car. The beater Dodge that she drove in L.A. didn’t have that!
“That’s great,” he said, holding his finger up to the team. He probably shouldn’t have answered as they were in the middle of their briefing, getting ready to roll on the suspected meth lab, but he knew she would be calling to tell him about the interview. “Did they say when they’d be making a decision?”
“Soon, within the next week. I hope I get this job. It would be perfect for me and I would love to work at the same school Sienna is at. I answered every question focusing on the student, like Sienna told me to do, how music can build confidence, bring shy students out, bridge the differences between people. I spoke from the heart, baby, just like you said to, and I know it sounded genuine.”
“I’m sure you did great.” Sloan watched as Lambchop tapped his watch. “I’m going to have to call you back. We’re kind of in the middle of something, but I want to hear everything, every question, every answer.”
“Oh, sure. I’m sorry this was a bad time,” she replied, sounding deflated.
“Me too. But I promise, as soon as we’re done, I’ll call you back and when I get home, we’ll celebrate because I’m sure you’ll get the job.” He felt terrible cutting it short. He knew she wouldn’t be this excited later.
“Sure,” she said.
“Love you, babe, and I’m proud of you,” he said. He’d been saving that particular four-letter word for a special occasion. He watched the grin spread over Lambchop’s face. “Okay. I have to go. I’ll talk to you in a few hours.” He hit end, shoved his phone into his pocket and picked up his AR-15. His bullet-proof vest was on and he was dressed in black, combat fatigues, as were his teammates. “Let’s bring these mother fuckers down,” he said, switching gears in his head back to the mission.
Lambchop said, “Amen,” and then said a short pre-mission prayer.
Kennedy sat stunned at the stop sign until the car behind her beeped her back into the moment. She proceeded through the intersection. Gary had just said he loved her. Was that really what she just heard? Yes, she knew she had. She felt light, giddy. She smiled all the way home.
The six members of Shepherd Security rolled up on the suspected meth lab, a rundown storefront at the end of the block in a sketchy part of Brooklyn. They were in two vehicles. One came in from the north, the other from the south. The car that Sloan, Sherman, and Jackson were in, pulled up to the one-truck loading dock at the rear of the building. The other SUV containing Lambchop, Mother and Garcia pulled up to the front door.
Their recon of this building over the past three days had yielded three facts. One, this was not a dental implant office. Two, there were two armed men just within the front door, and three, there were at least two more armed men just within the back door beside the dock. Other than that, they knew nothing. What went on in the eighteen hundred square feet, in between the two doors, was unknown. Also, there hadn’t been many people coming or going to speak of in the three days.
The one supply delivery they witnessed, via a dental supply truck, delivered boxes of various sizes with no markings on them. A pizza was delivered one day around lunchtime. One pizza for a minimum of four men? Even that seemed wrong. Chinese takeout was delivered the next. The bag size couldn’t have held more than two large oyster pail containers.
The bar next door, however, had a lot of foot traffic in and out of both the front and back doors all day, as did the bodega beside it. If this building really did house a meth lab as suspected, that put a lot of innocent people in jeopardy who patronized the surrounding businesses. Just the fumes alone were hazardous. If the unstable meth was to explode, it could take the whole city block out and everyone who happened to be unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.
Less than three seconds after the drivers of both vehicles shifted to park, Lambchop’s voice came through everyone’s comms. “Strike Team Red, in position.”
“Strike Team Green, in position,” Sloan said.
“Go, go, go!” Lambchop enunciated clearly, the three words spoken in sharp, rapid succession.
The three men at the rear loading dock, exited the vehicle, weapons at the ready, and rushed up the few concrete steps. Upon coming to the door, Sloan plastered his back against the brick building to the left of the door, his weapon and gaze set on the large garage door, which was closed. Jackson pressed his back against the right side, weapon trained on the door. And Sherman approached the door head on, trying the knob to find the door locked.
He swung the heavy battering ram. The door exploded inward with a loud crash. He dropped the battering ram, swung his AR into position as Jackson dove through the doorway, his weapon at the ready, aimed to his left. Sloan thrust himself through the doorway a split second later, dropping to his knees, weapon trained on the room to his right.
The Birdman was in right behind them. The three of them were alone in the small room. A closed door lay on the far wall. Sherman went to it as the other men pulled themselves to their feet. Sloan went to the desk which sat beside the door. The computer monitor was unlocked. The feed from the security cameras showed both their vehicles, theirs in the back and the other SUV in the front. Their prior recon of the building hadn’t detected security cameras, but they all assumed there had to be surveillance, so this wasn’t a surprise.
“They knew we were coming as soon as we pulled up. Got outside video surveillance,” Sloan transmitted to the others. “Back door is clear.”
“Front door is clear,” Lambchop replied.
Sloan clicked a few keys on the laptop. “I’m not seeing any interior surveillance. You got anything up front, Red Team?”
“Negative,” Mother’s voice came through their comms. “We’re getting ready to enter the warehouse area.”
“Breaching interior of building now, too” Sloan reported. Then he nodded at his t
wo teammates and they crowded in on the door. Sherman cracked it open and gazed out onto what appeared to be a plastic curtained-off warehouse floor with shelves and worktables. What was on them, was distorted by the plastic.
Soundlessly, Sherman stepped out into the warehouse space. His focus was to his left, and it quickly swept to his right at the absence of any threats. Immediately behind him, Jackson followed, repeating the motion, but focusing his gaze straight ahead after he’d viewed the area to the left. Sloan stepped out a split second later, covering their left. No one was in the area and it was quiet. Fully lit, but quiet.
Yvette’s voice from Ops came through their comms. “Each strike team should be making visual contact with the other. Watch out for crossfire.”
Red Team that entered the front, came into Sloan’s view. They slunk along the wall, weaving in and out of view through the black metal shelving in front of them on the far side of the warehouse floor. Lambchop flashed a signal indicating there was something they were closing in on, ahead of them. Sloan’s eyes gazed past Strike Team Red. The plastic that cordoned off the center area, and the shelves blocked his view. He saw nothing.
