Velvet Mafia

by Lydia L Watts

  “Teddy, I don’t know what to say. This has been a very interesting discussion, but to be honest, it alarms me. If what you are saying is true, then there is a lot of work that needs to be done, including saving Kennedy’s life. Do you have any idea as to where they could be holding her?”

  “No,” Teddy said solemnly. “All I know is that she was the carrot that brought me and Lance together. And oh yeah, before I go any further, you should also know that Lance has not been a very willing participant. It’s safe to say that if Kennedy wasn’t missing, he probably wouldn’t be working with us. Right now, she is his incentive. But my fear is that once he completes his work, they will no longer have any use for her.”

  Seeing how distraught Teddy looked, Blake knew he was supposed to be there.

  “Listen, Teddy,” he said. “I’m going to help you. I’m a firm believer that there are no coincidences and we have been put together for a purpose greater than ourselves.”

  Teddy couldn’t believe that this stranger … this man she had just met … this man who, unbeknownst to her, had been placed in her life eight years earlier … was now saying to her exactly what Lauren had told her about God’s plan. At that moment, Teddy felt a sense of tranquility. Like her, Blake was part of God’s plan. All she had to do was continue to trust in Him and let the plan continue to come together.

  “It’s getting late, Blake, and by now, I’m sure Basil and Lance are concerned. We should head to the safe house.”

  Teddy finally dropped Blake off at his Cessna at about 10:00 PM. They both agreed the meeting with Lance and Basil had gone well. Teddy even had admitted she was glad Isabella had had the forethought to bring them all together. But something was still bothering her.

  “What is it, Teddy?” Blake asked. “I know we’re just getting to know one another, but I can tell there’s something on your mind. So what is it?”

  Blake was right. She still didn’t know how he’d known she was in Beaver Park the night they spoke on the phone. But despite her desire to know, she made a decision to wait. She would ask him when he least expected it. Once he let his guard down and was comfortable, then she would inquire. Until then, she would try to put everything in perspective.

  Honestly, it was hard for her to go from taking the lead on everything to putting all her trust in something she couldn’t see. She wanted to do more, but her role had transformed from lead detective to waiting and watching Basil and Lance do all the work. And now there was Blake. There was something about him that made her feel confused, yet she couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. At the same time, she couldn’t understand why she felt so vulnerable around him.

  “It’s nothing, Blake, really,” she replied. “It’s just been a long day. We accomplished a lot today and in the coming days and weeks, there will be more I’m sure. Thanks for coming.”

  “No problem, Teddy,” Blake replied as he got out of the car. “We’ll be in touch soon.”

  After dropping Blake off at the landing strip, Teddy headed back to the safe house. She was exhausted. Based on the noises in the basement, Basil and Lance were still up working and the last thing she wanted to do was interfere. Plus, whatever they needed to discuss concerning their visit with Blake Jones could wait till the morning. She had other things on her mind.

  “Hey, sweetie,” she said as she struggled to take her jeans off. “Just trying to catch up with you before it’s too late. Call me when you get this message. We have a lot to talk about, especially you opening for the Black Eyed Peas! Love you!”

  Teddy hated that she wasn’t able to connect with Lauren, but she knew, when they finally connected, it would be the time God had intended. Until then, she would just wait.

  After Teddy finished undressing, she headed to the shower, but stopped when she saw something move outside her bathroom window. As she stared into the darkness, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she could see a figure in the shadow moving toward the trees surrounding the house. As the figure passed through the light, she could see it was Lance. Here he went again, taking one of his late-night walks. Something he had done often since their arrival at the safe house.

  Blake woke up early only to find Charlie sitting outside his place in the Range Rover. He had a lot to tell him about his meeting with Teddy and the others and he also wanted to alert him about Kennedy St. John. If anybody could find her — and find her before it was too late — it would be Charlie.

  “Come on, old man. Pick up the phone,” Blake said as he stood at his bedroom window looking down on Charlie sleeping in the car. Blake now watched Charlie fumbling for his phone. It was obvious he had startled him, and he chuckled as the old man looked for his phone.

  “Hello, Charlie Henderson here.”

  “Did I wake you, old man?” Blake asked, laughing.

  “No, you didn’t wake me. I was just resting.”

  “Yeah, right,” Blake said. “Listen. Come on in; I have a lot to tell you. Plus I’m hungry and this time, I’ll cook. Chop, chop.”

  Charlie could see curtains moving so he knew Blake was watching him. All he could think about was when all this was over, he would show Blake Jones who had jokes.

  Once inside, Charlie and Blake sat down and began to compare notes. Charlie was amazed at what he heard. He couldn’t believe the story Blake was sharing with him. But at the same time, he could. It didn’t surprise him that AIDS had been created as a way to get rid of people considered socially undesirable. He’d heard that for years. What did surprise him was the cast of characters and the fact that many more would be in danger if the “weapon” mutated and did what Isabella had thought it was capable of doing.

  “So, do you think Rhodes and St. John can come up with the antidote?” Charlie asked, listening intently.

  “Without a doubt! After listening to everything they’ve already done and what course of action they’re taking, including recruiting live subjects to test it on, I have no doubt,” Blake said.

  “Live subjects?” Charlie asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “According to Rhodes, he believes he can secure people in the dissident movement who are currently infected and would be willing to be test subjects. He said that since they are already living with AIDS, they would see this as another opportunity to participate in the movement. They have the entire lower level of the house set up like a lab, with guest rooms and everything. It’s a pretty remarkable setup.”

  “Well, that may be so, but the safe house lacks the type of security it needs. It’s located on a cul-de-sac and surrounded by several mature trees. The house is also difficult to see from the front because it sits too far back, and that’s a problem.”

  “Teddy has cameras throughout the house,” Blake said. “And she has computers automatically scanning her surroundings.”

  “That’s good,” Charlie said. “But she still needs more surveillance. I know what to do, so don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Anything else I need to know about?”

  “Yeah, there is,” Blake said. “Teddy believes the Velvet Mafia bugged Lance’s home when they took Kennedy.”

  “Well, son, she is probably right. Listening devices left in the home of victims is a form of torture often used by barbaric military regimes. But it’s not him that they want to torture; it’s Kennedy. She’s the one they are watching; she’s the subject. For example, every time Lance did anything in that house — like talked about his feelings of betrayal, threatened to harm himself, threatened to hurt Teddy … it didn’t matter — whatever he said and whatever he was going through, they made sure Kennedy listened to it. She was the one being tortured, not him.”

  “Damn, Charlie, that’s some deep shit,” Blake said.

  “I know,” Charlie replied. “And that is just a small glimpse of what we’re up against.”

  “Well, you should also know Teddy rigged his place so they think he’s in the house when, in fact, he isn’t.”

  “Well, son, it doesn’t quite work
like that. If he’s not talking and talking the way he should be talking, then they will know he’s not there. See, when a man is hurt, especially emotionally hurt, he tends to talk out loud to himself, especially in the privacy of his home. If what Teddy has set up only gives off body heat or the appearance that someone is in the house, it may be too late for Kennedy. They may have already figured out he’s not there. And if they have, they might have become bored. If she’s no longer hearing his anguish, she’s no longer feeling his anguish either. Therefore, she is no longer their source of entertainment and she becomes useless. Unless, of course, they decide to engage her actively in their sadistic rituals. Then she is like a mouse caught by a cat. The cat plays with the mouse and keeps the mouse in constant fear before he decides to kill it. Then he leaves it in an open place for his master to see, thinking its master will be pleased.”

  “Damn, Charlie!” Blake said. “That’s some analogy. So, are you saying Kennedy could already be dead?”

  “She could be,” Charlie said, “but we know she’s not. If she was dead, we would know about it. The man behind the killing is peculiar. He likes to mutilate his victims and so far, the bureau hasn’t received any calls about a mutilated body being found.”

  “How do you know about all this stuff, Charlie?

  “Forensic profiling. Remember, Blake, I’ve been looking for the man leading this band of fairies for eight years. What he did to Isabella was the work of a sadistic narcissist. He likes to inject himself in the killing to prove his superiority. Most likely, he has a split personality and can change right in front of you. But, right now, we have to stay focused. He hasn’t killed Kennedy yet, and let’s make sure he doesn’t get to Teddy, Basil, or Lance before they finish their work. You and I have to figure out a way to protect the safe house or at least be able to watch what is going on around the perimeter.”

  Blake was listening to everything Charlie said, but when he described the leader being able to change right in front of you, he immediately thought about Eli and the fact he had recently witnessed Eli doing exactly what Charlie had described.

  “Blake, are you listening to me? You look like you just drifted off somewhere.”

  “Yeah, Charlie, I’m listening. What do you suggest we do?”

  “We need to get several high-powered, military-issue cameras up into those trees. Cameras that can be angled in odd positions, adjust to weather changes, and recalibrate automatically in the dark. The way the safe house sits back could be the cause of their demise if we don’t act quickly. Also, if the safe house is where they’re going to put the pieces of this conundrum together, then I need to base my operations from that location.”

  “Are you saying you’re going to be staying in Beaver Park until this is over?”

  “I have no choice, son. What you told me about Kennedy is reason enough, but the fact that you were able to find the safe house also tells me it’s only a matter of time before everything kicks into high gear. But don’t worry. We’ll be in constant communication. From this point forward, everything we are doing is sensitive. No one should know I exist, not even Teddy. This time tomorrow, I’ll be in Beaver Park with my own safe house. Here’s a nontraceable phone to use when contacting me. Also, the money you had in your console? I took it to buy a used vehicle. That way I can move in and around the area without being noticed. The less you can see of me, the better tactical position I will be in to protect you and anybody around you.”

  Charlie looked seriously at Blake. “Your only goal from this point forward, Blake, is to make sure that Teddy, Basil, and Lance get that antidote made, tested, and in the right hands. Who that is, I don’t know. But, between you and Teddy, I’m sure you will find them. Remember: no word of this to anybody.”

  For several weeks, the activity at the safe house was measured. With two of the three DaKira papers already in circulation, anticipation for the third and final brief was high. While Basil and Lance focused on testing the effectiveness of the antidote and documenting their results, Teddy was strategically developing the strategy she would use to expose the alleged culprits, while at the same time, pinpointing who would be brought on board to help her expose the conspiracy.

  Chapter 17

  FOR MONTHS KENNEDY had been tortured by her captors. Every waking moment, they would taunt her, then drug her and then, just before she was completely intoxicated, she would be forced to watch and listen to a recording of Isabella Cardosa saying over and over again, “I love you, Teddy,” just before her throat was cut. It was an image Kennedy could not escape.

  Like Isabella before her, Kennedy knew she was close to death and she was ready to surrender. From the first time she had been forced to watch the video, she had seen in Isabella’s eyes that she was at peace, that she had surrendered. Like Isabella, Kennedy could tell her net worth had plummeted and death was no longer just inevitable — it was near. Her only relief was that Lance was no longer blaming her for everything. The drunken temper tantrums had ceased. In fact, he had stopped talking altogether. Life as she had hoped it would be was now just a figment of her imagination, and she wanted death even more than her captives desired to kill her.

  “Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” she yelled as she paced around the six by eight room. “I know you’re watching everything I’m doing. Say something, you cowards! Don’t just stand there looking at me. I’m ready to die. You don’t scare me anymore.”

  Then, out of nowhere, the man with the ornate robe and the mask entered the room.

  “Hello, my angel.”

  In order to place distance between herself and the monster directly in front of her, Kennedy backed up against the grey wall behind her. Barely touching it, she could feel the cold hardness of its texture — another simple reminder of where she was and who she had come to be. The room was now her canvas and everything painted on it was abstract, tortured and dark. Even the chipped paint on the walls screamed of others who had stood before her, trying to understand their captivity.

  “I hope my colleagues have been treating you well,” he said, his robe whistling with his every gesture. “Do you need anything? Is there something I can do for you to make your stay more comfortable?” He paused to look her up and down, then continued, “Aha, I can see you have lost your desire to live, but it’s too early for that, my angel. I will let you know when it’s time, so until then, tell me what is it that you need. Is it your freedom you seek? Do you want to go home to see your husband, or would you rather see your lover? Tell the god you pray to what it is you want and I will see to it that he gets your request.”

  The masked man rattled off question after question, laughing. He seemed to enjoy imposing his own brand of mental mayhem on Kennedy’s weak mind and frail body. Her other two captors, on the other hand, had said nothing; they simply took their delight in watching.

  “Come, come, my angel. Don’t be afraid. Don’t you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

  Barely able to hold her body erect, Kennedy bravely said, “I’m ready.” Her voice was slow, shallow, strained, as she pressed herself against the cold, damp concrete wall. “I gave up wanting to live a long time ago. You no longer have any power over me. In fact, all you can do is take my body. You can’t have my mind, my soul and you definitely cannot have my spirit, so kill me and get it over with.”

  Little did Kennedy realize that her peace of mind had changed everything. As frail and helpless as she was physically against the man who towered over her, she had flipped the switch. Now, instead of being the captive, she was the captor. Without fear and the emotion that followed it, she was powerful and in complete control of her life and her destiny. Kennedy had put her trust in God, and in doing so, had rendered the man with the ornate robe emotionally wounded, confused, and obsolete.

  “Oh, I get it,” the man said. “You found God while being a guest in my house. Now that’s no way to treat your host.”

  “No, asshole, you’re mistaken,” Kennedy said as
she allowed her body to slip down the wall and rest on the concrete floor. “I didn’t find God; God found me. In fact, I owe you a debt of gratitude. Had it not been for you, the God I now serve would have remained a symbol in my life and not a desire. Now I thirst for Him and He provides for my every need. Even guilt evades me and I no longer punish myself for betraying my husband. In your house, God has forgiven me. In your house, I have forgiven myself and — guess what? — I’ve forgiven you, too. So, you see, friend, God has always been here with me. He was just patiently waiting for me to come to Him, and thanks to you, I did. Thanks to you, I am no longer lost and afraid. Thanks to you, I now know that the more I need Him and the more I come to know Him, He is always here for me.”

  Kennedy may have been doped up but she was still clear. Fear no longer controlled her because in the midst of her despair, she had willingly died to her flesh and begun waiting patiently to go home.

  The strength and the confidence behind Kennedy’s words, even in her state of intoxication, caused the man in the mask and ornate robe to explode viciously. But Kennedy was not the center of his anger; God was. He was like a madman, thrashing around, throwing things, kicking over chairs, cursing, and challenging God. To the man with the mask, God was his true enemy.

  “God found you?” the man said. “That’s absurd. There is no god but me. I am your god and only I can set you free.”

  Seeing that the man who had once controlled her every emotion had been stripped of his own sense of self, Kennedy felt euphoric. Now her induced high was no longer something she fought. Instead, she enjoyed the heightened sense of pleasure she received as she listened to her captor confront his defeat. It was her turn, she realized and she was relentless. She knew it was that time.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kennedy said. “Can’t you see, stupid, I am no longer afraid of dying and death is my freedom? Thanks to you, my relationship with God is —”