Chasing the Dragon

by Tiana Laveen

  “Rick, I need you to get the police over to East Huron Street in Chicago. There is a gang shootout with several casualties. I also need you to get me a private driver in front of the Windsor restaurant. It needs to be there in two minutes, tops.”

  “Okay … but uh, Phoenix, what are you doing in Chicago? I hope it’s got nothing to do with Gable Johnson.”

  “Just do what the hell I asked you to do; don’t ask me any questions and don’t mention any of this to anyone.” Phoenix disconnected the call and sped up.

  The car began to ride bumpy, slowing to a crawl. He put the thing in park and they both jumped out, racing towards the eatery. Everything became a blur then. The street life smelled like death, hospital antiseptic, and car exhaust. Cool air beat against her face, while the lights mesmerized and sickened her. Just as they arrived in front of the restaurant, a dark car pulled up and the door opened. Phoenix helped her inside and off they went, into the night. After a moment or two, she stopped shaking.

  “Who’s Rick?” she asked.

  “My assistant.” He raised the privacy window.

  “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.” He removed several guns from his person, checked the chambers, then tucked them away. “I don’t think she’s going to make it. She looks like she’s really dying.” Her voice quaked as Aunt Shirley’s face lying in that hospital bed appeared in her mind. “She wouldn’t have wanted this.”

  Phoenix pulled out his cellphone.

  “Yeah, it’s me again. Please send a bouquet of twenty-four assorted roses to hospital room number 421 at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Leave no name on the card, just include the drawing of a butterfly.” After hanging up, he took her hand in his. All she could do was stare at him in awe, in shock, in amazement … in love.

  “I didn’t realize that—” He put his hand up, stopping her without looking at her.

  “When you say the name of Phoenix Hale, you’re talking about over twenty fucking years of experience with enemy minds, criminal behavior, drug intel, highly sophisticated cartel disassembly, vast artillery experience, de-escalation training and aptitude, international explosives knowledge and over three hundred successful shakedowns and takedowns. I didn’t get here by sheer luck. I’m not called upon as a second or third choice. I’m the first choice, but it always boils down to, ‘Can they afford me?’ and ‘Will they follow my orders to the letter?’ When I tell my team ‘no’, it’s for a good reason. When I tell you, as my woman, ‘no’, it’s because of that twenty years of knowledge and experience. I’m not new to this shit, Tiff!”

  “I just thought—”

  “Stop talking! Don’t interrupt me and just listen. I didn’t just wake up a year ago or even five years ago and say, ‘Gee, I think I want to be called an expert in this shit!’ I know how to defend myself and others. Since I was a child, I’ve been protecting and serving. Goddamn boy scouts as a little kid, lifeguard as a teenager, bouncer while I was putting myself through law school, and bodyguard too, I did all of that shit, Tiffany! I’m not unfamiliar with how to take care of my business. I’m not new to love either and how to protect and treat a woman…”

  He looked at her with fire in his eyes. “And if I love you, which I obviously fucking do or I wouldn’t have allowed you to be here in the first place against my better judgment, don’t hinder me from safeguarding you. Some shit just isn’t fair, and we’ve got to roll with it … like not seeing someone we love before they die.” She nodded, feeling shame. “Don’t question me, threaten me, or defy my judgment in these matters ever again—that’s the end of this goddamn discussion.” Directing his attention ahead, he lowered the privacy window. “Driver, our stop is close by. Please keep the car right at the exact speed limit.

  “Yes, sir.” He rolled the privacy window back up.

  She dropped her head, feeling like an absolute fool. How ashamed she felt, hurting inside, mourning Shirley, and replaying the horror scene that imploded in the hospital. Shifting her onto his lap, he stroked her hair. She caught the material of his pants in a vise, wishing she could disengage from the pain.

  “How did you shoot Purp?”

  “Purp? The guy at the front of the door?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Turned the gun to the side and shot. I didn’t want a bloodbath inside the hospital … keep that shit out on the street. If he’d seen me pull anything out, as soon as he took out his gun, the others would have rushed inside.” He gently pushed on her head, coaxing her to relax on him.

  She looked at his crotch, at the privacy window, then back at his crotch. Reaching for his zipper, she pulled the damn thing down. The sounds of, “I’m a Player” by Too Short carried through from a nearby car as they waited at a red light. Phoenix sat back in his seat. Soon, his low moans filled the car as she sucked on his thick, long cock until he exploded in her mouth. Sitting back up, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and wrapped her arms around his neck in a needful hug. He looked into her eyes, tracing her cheek with his thumb as they pulled up to the parked airplane he’d flown them to Chicago in.

  “Let’s go home, baby…”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Things had gotten sticky like coagulated, splattered blood…

  Phoenix expected as much when there was a knock at his door less than twenty-four hours later in the middle of the night. He stared at the security monitors, taking note of the black armored vehicles pulling up onto his property. He pulled Tiffany close while they rested after making love in his bed, kissed the top of her head and told her he’d be right back. There Thomas Derision stood, Chief Intelligence Analyst for the FBI. Phoenix had known the man for years, and though they’d shared heated words on occasion, there was a mutual respect between the two. A slight grin was on the man’s face as he leaned casually against his front door.

  “Phoenix, Director of the DCP was definitely Agent Hale last night…” Phoenix lowered his head and chuckled. “Well, well, well… how was your vacation in Chicago?” The tall, African American clean-shaven man with the deep cleft chin crossed his arms over his barreled chest and huffed.

  “It was fantastic, Thomas. I heard it’s beautiful this time of year. You should go check it out.”

  “I was able to see it from afar thanks to you. Looks like you painted the town red…Hale, I think we need to talk about your house guest, don’t you?” Phoenix’s eyes hooded as he held his glass of cognac in one hand and his cigar in the other. He could still smell the woman all over him, and in that moment, it gave him comfort. Metallica and Zepplin barked loudly in the background. He casually looked over his shoulder as the two stormed towards him.

  “Metallica, Zepplin, heel.” He turned back towards Thomas. “They do as their told. I don’t.”

  “Hale, let’s do this peacefully.” Thomas raised his hands in the air. Phoenix looked past him and took note of three armored trucks in the distance, their high beams on lighting the path of his long driveway.

  “Wow…you think you brought enough backup?” Phoenix chuckled lightly as he crossed his ankles and blew out a ring of smoke. “Why so many, huh? I guess I’m Hannibal Lecter now. Fava beans…Jesus Christ.” Thomas sighed.

  “Your reputation precedes you. I need to come inside, Hale.”

  “Well, I certainly don’t want to be rude and keep you standing there, come right on in.” He stepped aside and allowed Thomas in, closing and locking the door behind him. The man stood there looking about, his navy-blue FBI uniform on and a scorn look on his face.

  “Where is she, Hale?” Phoenix and he turned at the same time to see Tiffany approaching in a sheer, red robe. Her long hair was slightly damp from her shower, and hanging against her shoulders as her hips swayed to the song, “Black Butterfly” that played low through the speakers in the house. In her hand she held a glass filled with red wine. Hale didn’t miss the way Thomas regarded her… yeah, she was show stopping for sure. With a devilish smirk on her face, she shook her head.

  “It’s al
right, baby… let’s just get this over with…”

  Tiffany smiled as Thomas took her outside and put her in one of the big, black vehicles lined up in her baby’s driveway. She blew Phoenix a kiss before being led away. She didn’t yell, she didn’t cry… she had simply sat down and spoke to the handsome fucker who asked her a series of questions while Phoenix stood there on his phone, lawyering her up. She’d broken the rules, had to say goodbye to Aunt Shirley whom he confirmed died a couple hours after she’d left… it was a bad break, but a part of her didn’t regret that much needed farewell. After Thomas was finished, he explained that they were taking her back to Chicago for further interviews and arraignment. Several other FBI Agents were now in the house, standing beside her like armed guards.

  Phoenix and he stepped away, behind closed doors and though both of their voices were raised, she couldn’t quite make out what was being said. She sat there with her glass of wine now fully drank, the scent of her lover’s cigar hanging in the air, his cum in her pussy and her anger reaching a fever pitch. Moments later, she was asked to put on more appropriate attire, and say her final goodbye. They said, ‘hold on’ to one another, speaking in their own special way through a glance. The big truck moved along the gravel path and onto the road, the big house she’d grown to love now becoming further and further in the distance. She crossed her arms, brow raised and plotted and schemed… it was time for action…

  Phoenix paused as he looked at the duffle bag… the one he’d taken from Tiff’s home when he took her in his possession. He grabbed it up out of the guestroom closet and tossed many of her things inside of it. He’d been moving about so much, making countless calls and arrangements he hadn’t paused to breath or think. He couldn’t… he feared if he did he’d shoot something, or someone, up. Suddenly his phone rang.

  “Yes Rick…”

  “You’re going back to Chicago, aren’t you?”

  “Do you want a pay raise?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then stay out of my goddamn business and do as I tell you.” At that, he was met with a sigh.

  “Look Phoenix, I don’t consider you just my boss, you’re a friend. We’ve been working together a long time. I was with you when you were an agent, I have helped arrange your…trips. Come on, man. You’re going to lose everything if you don’t stop this! You’re obsessed with this woman! She is going to ruin you.”

  “Then let me be destroyed… Rick, I appreciate your concern but who I go to bat for, which has even been you from time to time, and who I love and who I fuck are not your territory. This is about the principle at this point. She didn’t do it!”

  “What about John, Phoenix! Your best friend? He was my friend, too! He’s dead on account of her and her cousin. She almost got you killed in Chicago and you’ve been neglecting your duties for the President because of her. She cannot beat these charges, Phoenix.”

  “She can’t alone. That’s where I come in.”

  “This is insane!”

  “Let the President know I will meet with him as soon as possible with my updates. Cover for me. Call Mildred and tell her I need her to get over to the house ASAP. Tiffany’s attorney is Jane Patterson, I just hired her and she’s on it. I have to leave out of here in about an hour. I want you to call Tammy Duckworth and get me an appointment and I need to speak to Judge Frillton in the morning.”

  “Tammy Duckworth? The Senator for Illinois? Oh, for fucks sake! Jesus, Phoenix. When is this going to end?”

  “It will end when I get what I want…”

  “And what’s that, Phoenix?” He zipped up the duffle bag and made his way to his bedroom.

  “Her freedom, some liberty and justice for all and her wearing my ring and my last name.” He then disconnected the call…

  Tiffany sat in the cold, dull room for hours. Agent after agent came and asked her the same questions over and over again, worded differently, as if to trip her up. Her story remained the same. She was relieved to see a tall, no nonsense blonde haired woman enter the room in a light gray power suit, her hair pulled back taut in a long, sleek ponytail and thin rimmed black glasses. She demanded they cease their questioning. Her name was Attorney Jane Patterson, and she was one of the best in the state of Illinois, in fact, according to Phoenix, the entire country. The woman sat beside her, an endearing smile on her face as she placed her suitcase onto the table. The agents tossed them both hateful glances before exiting the room.

  “Hello Ms. McCall, I’m your lawyer.”

  “I know,” Tiffany smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Phoenix has given me the details of your case, and I’ve reviewed it. I have more questions, but we need to move fast. First and foremost, this won’t be easy. Secondly, your cousin, Gable Johnson, is in the process of making a deal with the prosecution and apparently, he states that he has evidence to back up his claims. I will review that. In an ideal situation, your cousin would of course recant, but we can’t live in a dream world.”

  “Is it possible I can speak to him?” The woman looked at her quizzically.

  “As your attorney, Ms. McCall, I am to give you sound advice regarding this case. I do not know enough about Mr. Johnson yet to say whether that’s a good idea or not.”

  “Well,” Tiffany clasped her handcuffed hands. “I do know him, and if you’d like to sit right here while I speak to him, that’s fine. His mother just died, that’s why I was in Chicago. I’d like to reach out to him, all of this drama aside.” She smiled sweetly at the woman, laying it on thick. The woman sat there and stared at her for a moment, her lips curving in an all-knowing grin.

  “Alright Ms. McCall, I will—”

  “Please, call me Tiffany.”

  “Tiffany, I will be right back.” The woman left the room, and returned several minutes later with a phone in tow. Tiffany glared at the thing, her heart pounding, eager to speak to dear ol’ Mr. Johnson.

  “My mama just died, I’m locked up in this bitch and can’t attend my own mother’s funeral and you got the mothafuckin’ nerve to have me pulled up outta my cell and call me?! Bitch, I heard ’bout what you did, Tiffany. Fox is in the goddamn hospital in ICU, Purp is dead, Lock and Load ain’t gonna probably make it because of some urban cowboy shootin’ machine guns while wearing a goddamn business suit. Who tha fuck did you bring up in there wit’ you?” The man barked, not even giving her a chance to say hello. “Who’s the white boy, bitch?!”

  “First and foremost Gable,” She said with a smile through the phone. “You just confirmed that you set me up. Thank you. Secondly, you and Cora figured I’d see that post on Facebook and you knew I loved Aunt Shirley, and would find a way to get there. I fell for it, baby, you got me.” She shrugged. “But what’s funny is I guess you thought I’d be stupid enough to go it alone. That ‘white boy’ is a grown ass man that you don’t want to tangle with, sweetie…and when you fuck with me, you fuck with him. And we don’t like being fucked with…”

  “You’re out here walkin’ around free while I am up to do hard time! I found out you been up in D.C., chillin’. I could get a life sentence ’cause of yo’ bullshit! This was all your idea, Tiffany and you killed all them DEA Agents, I just wanted the dope.” Tiffany shook her head and burst out laughing.

  “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even lie right. This is being recorded so you’re playing that little role. Well, Gable, looks like you got what you wanted…” She sighed. “but now, I consider you my enemy. So for you, it’s a wrap. You have stolen something from me I can never get back, just to save your own ass …there’s a price to pay for that, a big one.”

  “We’ve been partners since forever. Don’t act like no damn victim, Tiffany. You’re ruthless, just like me… cut from the same cloth, own up to your shit.”

  “Don’t get it twisted, I don’t mind paying for my crimes, Gable, but you will pay for your goddamn lies, one way or another. Ain’t nothin’ worse than a coward and a liar, you’re both, and you call yourself a man. Now your mama
is dead and you’ve broken the family code. Aunt Shirley didn’t mind a pimp, a whore, a thief, a drug addict or a dope slinger, but she hated a liar… funny, she pulled me aside one night when she was drunk and said, ‘Leave my boy alone. He’s going to get you killed. Go do your own thing.’ She knew you well. I thought it was just the Hennessey talking, but that woman could practically predict the future. She knew her own son wasn’t shit. No loyalty, no honor… the GDs don’t give a fuck about you, either.”

  “Say something else about my mama, Tiffany, and I’ll make sure you—”

  “You won’t do shit! You think you’re going to take me down? Alright, cool… but we fall into the flames together then, dear dead cousin. Remember this, mothafucka, and remember it well… I’m better than you, smarter than you, and faster than you on my worst day, so if you think for one goddamn second that you’ve won and this is the end, you’re in for a rude awakening. Rise and shine, fam… it’s game day.” Tiffany disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Jane.

  “Do you feel better now?” The woman asked sarcastically, causing Tiffany to chuckle.

  “I most certainly do. Especially since I know everything I said was true…”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Thomas rotated the glass of whiskey to and fro. Phoenix sat near him on a stool at the bar of the Peninsula Hotel.

  And they stared one another down.

  “You should be right there with her,” the man stated casually.

  The ice clinked in Phoenix’s glass as he tipped it towards his mouth and downed the fiery liquid in one gulp. He set it down, remaining cool and collected. He shrugged. His room was ready, but he had important business to attend to.

  “Phoenix, you know that you really get under my skin.” The man grimaced as he waved the bartender over. “You don’t follow procedure, you take too many risks, and you’re unpredictable. Well.” Thomas laughed lightly as he stroked his chin. “I take that back. It’s always predictable that you’re going to do something outrageous to get your desired outcome.”