by Iris Bolling
“Oh hell,” Grayson said.
Rochelle turned to look up at the man worried. “What is he going to do?” she asked.
Grayson did not want to give the woman an answer for two reasons. One, he could never get Royce to see reason when it came to women. Two, he had no idea what actions his brother might take. “Don’t worry, I’ll calm him down. You work on Shelly.” He walked out the door.
Grayson opened the back door to the limo and climbed inside. The driver pulled off once the door closed. “Well, that was a spirited meeting.”
Royce turned to his brother with a dubious look. “You think. Who in the hell is she?” he yelled. Before Grayson could speak, Royce continued to vent. “Did you hear what she accused me of?” He turned away and looked out the window. “She had the nerve to be disappointed in me. Who gives a damn who she is disappointed with? Does she know I control the center and will take it down if I see fit?” Grayson began to speak, but was cut off–again. “She said it twice–did you hear her?” He jerked back around facing his brother. “You know she said it twice. That she was disappointed in me. Her words were: ‘I would have expected more from you Senator.’ Who is she to expect anything from me?” His fist hit the side of the door. “Pull over!” he demanded. The limo driver pulled over and parked near the lake at Maymont Park in Richmond’s West End. Royce pushed the door open and stormed out.
Grayson remained seated for a minute, inhaled, then joined his brother by the lake. For a good fifteen minutes they just stood there, not a word passing between them. Then just like children they both began to laugh, for the situation was really not that serious and they both knew it.
“Believe it or not, tonight was the first time she has ever spoken up at a meeting,” Grayson laughed. “Man, did she come out with a bang. All directed at you.”
After calming down, Royce thoughtfully exhaled. “Well, she is certainly passionate about the children.”
“That she is. She left a corporate position making six figures to teach in the high school.”
“What?”
Grayson nodded his head affirmatively, “Yes, she did. Now she works two jobs and heads up the teen initiatives at the center. The two week camping trip was her idea. It was a way to get the teens to get their grades up and abstain from sex. She is the first one here every afternoon and the last to leave at night. Her dedication is commendable.”
“What’s her story?” Royce asked.
“I’m not sure. According to Tammy, Shelly Knight and Rochelle Delany were foster children, didn’t quite fit into her world, as she put it.”
“Hmm, not many people can fit into Tammy’s world, except you.” Royce displayed a devilish smile. “She just loves touching you.”
Grayson gave his older brother a look that would drop most men. “Don’t even play like that.”
“I’m just messing with your head.” Royce replied as the two looked out over the water. “Dad would have loved the center. You did a good job of pulling it all together.”
“It was your name that opened the right doors and wallets. We have good programs with dedicated people.”
“Some were for the right reasons and others, not so much.” Royce held his head down in thought. “She’s right you know.”
“I know. I just don’t know what to do about it. That’s why I called you. Shelly isn’t just thinking of the children, but their families as well. In the short time we’ve been open she has put a light into eyes that were dull before. Those families believe it when she says something is possible. I hate like hell to disappoint her.”
Royce raised an eyebrow. “Are you involved with her?”
“Shelly? No. She is fine though with those thick legs, but not me. Now–Rochelle is another story.”
“Man, Rochelle Delany will break you in two.” Royce chuckled as he began walking back to the limo.
“I think I’d like that. Rough.”
Royce looked at his younger brother who was almost a twin in his likeness and laughed as they entered the limo. “You would.” The two laughed as Royce’s cell phone chimed. He listened as the caller spoke. “Send me the Intel.” He turned to his brother. “I have to get back to Washington.”
“Man, you always pull that national security excuse when you don’t want to deal with things.”
Royce looked at his brother and smirked. “You want to be Senator for a while?”
“Hell no,” Grayson knocked on the glass partition between them and the driver. “You’re forty-four years old with gray hair, that’s not for me.” The limo pulled away from the curb.
A black town car was waiting at their mother’s home when Royce and Grayson arrived. The Secret Service agent assigned when security alerts arise, stepped out of the back of the vehicle and opened the door for Royce.
“Senator Davenport,” Agent Conrad McNally spoke. “There is an incident in Nigeria that needs your attention in Washington. A chopper is waiting to take you in.”
“Thank you, Agent McNally. I’ll be with you in one moment.” He turned to his brother. “Let mother know, I’ll call her later.”
Grayson hugged his brother. This was his life. The country came first. “I’ll handle it for you. Take care.”
Royce entered the vehicle and within the hour he was at the Pentagon. Lieutenant General Mark McGary stood at attention as Senator Davenport walked through the door. “Fill me in, General.”
“Senator Davenport, at twenty-one hundred hours our time, an operative entered Nigeria with the intent to extract Princess Zsa Zsa Adannaya Ashro, daughter of King Ahmed Ashro and sister to the current King Aswan Ashro, who was taken from her home two days ago. During the mission, he came across a woman identified as Akande Ariana Aubree, the niece of self-proclaimed King Tarik Tochi. Believing the woman was taken and held against her will, he extracted her as well.”
“Our relationship with Tarik is tenuous to say the least,” Royce stated as he looked over the file. He looked up at the monitor. “Are we tracking him?”
“Yes,” the Lieutenant General used his pointer to indicate the location on the monitor. “He is currently en route to the drop site we set. The question is...”
“What do we do about the niece of the self-proclaimed King of Asmere?”
“No Intel. We have minutes to make the decision before the mission is jeopardized.”
“Are communications open with the operative?”
“Yes sir.”
“Let me speak with him.”
The Lieutenant General nodded his head to one of the other military personnel in the room. The young officer pushed a button on the speaker in the center of the conference table. “Ned Gerhardt is on the line, Senator. He is the handler for the Operative, who is unavailable.”
“What the hell do you mean, he is unavailable,” Lieutenant General McGary yelled into the speaker.
Royce knew the name. Ned Gerhardt was the handler to a small group of CIA Operatives assigned to the Office of the President, used for delicate situations foreign and domestic. Royce had worked closely with one of the first agents assigned to Gerhardt nearly twenty years ago. Without ever having met the man, he trusted his judgment.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Senator Davenport, I’m forwarding documents to your phone for your eyes only. I’ll give you the time it will take for Lieutenant General McGary to blow off steam for your response.”
“Gerhardt, you do not address me as gentleman. I am a Lieutenant General in the United States military; you will address me as such. As for Absolute, you tell him to get his ass available.”
Royce reviewed the information received on his phone as the Lieutenant General continued to layout his many accomplishments to the handler. Royce knew the CIA handler had probably placed the Lieutenant General on hold while he dealt with life and death situations. He couldn't care less why the Lieutenant General thought he was so important.
Joshua Lassiter was one of their top CIA operatives. The operative had over fifty successful mis
sions behind him, with a hundred percent success rate. His decisions had been as extreme as his kill rate. His operative name, Absolute, was earned each time a mission was completed with precision and no trail leading to the United States. He is the best active agent in Gerhardt’s arsenal. That statement was issued by Lassiter's training operative, Sylvester "Sly" Pendleton, the man Royce worked with twenty years ago. Each of the four operatives under Gerhardt’s control, were weapons, human weapons. Any of them could take out an army with their specialized skills.
A message came through as the Senator was reading the file. It was from Absolute.
Senator Davenport, the woman extracted was being held against her will. While that is acceptable in this part of the world, it is against the American way. Your decision.
The message brought memories of similar words he’d spoken in the very same region some twenty years ago. He still had the same beliefs, if not stronger. However, now, unlike then, he understood the need for diplomacy.
Royce looked up. “General,” he said to quiet the man who in his opinion, was about to burst at the seams. “Gerhardt, give me your take on the situation.”
“I trust my agent. The woman was rendered unconscious during the mission therefore unable to confirm the information provided by Princess Zsa Zsa."
"We are acting on the word of a sixteen year old," Royce speculated.
"Yes sir," Ned replied.
The situation caused Royce to take a moment as the eyes of the occupants in the room, the handler on the phone and the operative in Nigeria waited for his decision. Waiting for authorities to give him an order when he was a young lieutenant in the army, stationed in the region, caused the death of the rightful King of Asmere as well as that of his wife.
"Senator?" The Lieutenant General called out. "We do not want to cause an international incident on the word of a child."
Royce respected the General's take on the situation, however, he could not ignore the information provided. Certain region’s beliefs on women were deplorable in his estimation. If he could, he would remove any woman who requested asylum, however it was not his country. "Return the child to her home. Request King Aswan’s permission to bring the woman there until her situation is determined." Royce sat forward. "Impress upon the operative the importance of keeping this woman's location and existence covert. We do not want to incite a war between Asmere and Emure. If she requests asylum, grant it. Under no circumstances do we enter Asmere."
"Understood," Ned replied.
"I want daily updates on this situation. There is a time limit on the discovery of information Mr. Gerhardt. I want the operative out of that region." Royce nodded and the officer disconnected the call.
"Senator I’d like to clearly state my opposition to this action." Lieutenant General McGary stated.
"Duly noted. I will be sure to put it in my report to the President."
Chapter Three
It may have been the middle of the night in Emure, but you certainly could not tell it by the activity going on at the palace. They were celebrating the return of their beloved Princess Zsa Zsa. Every light in the palace was on. Every servant was working, either preparing food, rooms, or baths for the people about to enter. The royal family was waiting patiently on the veranda for the chopper to land.
“Mother, quickly Mother,” Prince Raheem grabbed his mother’s hand joining the family gathered on the veranda as the chopper began to descend.
Queen Nasheema walked swiftly, taking her middle son’s hand. “Is she here? Have you placed eyes on her?” she asked with the urgency of a mother whose child has been missing for days.
“The helicopter is landing now.” King Ahmed held his hand out for his wife. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Once they land, she will be fine. You will see,” he patted her shoulder to reassure her and himself as well.
A lone figure stepped off the chopper carrying a body in his arms. “It’s Joshua,” LaVeré lurched forward.
LaVeré and his brothers ran out to join the man walking towards them. LaVeré took his sister from Joshua as his eyes shined with unspilled tears. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine.” Joshua released the girl. “I had to sedate her to stop her from talking.”
The men released nervous laughter, for they were all emotionally drained. Their only sister was taken from the palace right from under their noses. While they were sharing a moment of relief at the return of their loved one, they also were grateful to Joshua yet weary of the next stage that must unfold. “We have often sought ways to silence her,” Aswan, the current King of Emure joked, “Until now the means has escaped us. You must leave us with the drugs you use for the future. I am certain Zsa Zsa will have much to tell us upon her awakening.”
“Of that, I am certain.” Joshua stood watching the family gathering around the young girl. Not many of his missions turned out this way. He wanted to savor the moment.
Joshua Lassiter was attending his sister’s wedding when their friend LaVeré received word of the kidnapping. Joshua, as a CIA operative, knew his expertise would be needed and did not hesitate to return to LaVeré’s home to assist in any way he could. Once they arrived and he was apprised of the delicacy of the situation, King Aswan and Prince LaVeré determined the best solution, to avoid a possible war between underground factions in Nigeria and Emure, was to turn this into a United States rescue mission. Since Joshua was an active agent, it was determined he would be the person to lead the operation.
Standing in the field, dressed in combat fatigues, legs apart, arms folded across his chest, Joshua, was a menacing sight, if he wasn’t on your side.
LaVeré approached him knowing what he had accomplished was no small feat. He also knew there was more to come. “You have another package?”
“I do.” Joshua’s grin widened. “A woman.”
LaVeré rolled his eyes. “Samuel tells me you find a woman on every mission. Why is that?”
Joshua shrugged his shoulders. “They find me, man. What am I supposed to do, leave them?”
“Yes,” LaVeré replied. “You cannot bring every woman you meet home with you.”
“Now see, that’s where I feel the government should step down. If a woman wants a piece of this, she should have it. Why should we deny them when there’s so much of me to go around? I feel it’s my duty to share.”
LaVeré turned towards the chopper, shaking his head. “One day a woman is going to bring you to your knees.”
“Several have, and I can’t begin to tell you how sweet they were.”
Laughing LaVeré walked to the chopper. “Where is she?”
Joshua followed him. “Hey, it’s not my fault Samuel, and Zack,” his older brother and new brother-in-law, “have turned their backs on the female population by getting married.” He picked the woman up in his arms as if she was a feather. “Somebody has to fulfill the demand for sexual healing.” He looked at the woman, then grinned up at LaVeré. “She looks like an angel, doesn’t she? Where can I take her?”
LaVeré just shook his head. “This way.” They turned to walk away from the palace. “We have a cottage, we use for guests. You have unlimited use of the grounds and security for as long as you need.”
“And the women?” Joshua raised an eyebrow.
“If they are willing.” LaVeré chuckled.
Following a brick pathway, they came to what LaVeré referred to as a cottage.
The cottage was a two story, five bedroom, four bathroom, airy, luxury guest house, fit for a King.
“I’ve assigned security and staff to be available for you.” LaVeré walked inside to ensure all was as he instructed. “There is a master suite upstairs to the right. I’m certain she will be comfortable there.”
Joshua carried the woman upstairs where he was met by two servants. They were given orders to bathe the woman then make her comfortable. Two guards were placed at her door. Joshua showered and dressed then returned downstairs. He knew the family would have q
uestions.
“Joshua, words cannot express my gratitude or that of my family for what you’ve done.” LaVeré smiled. “Zsa Zsa is the heart of this family. The last few days have been hell with her gone.”
He patted LaVeré on the back. “Unfortunately, we have another issue we have to deal with.”
“The ransom demand?”
“No,” Joshua said as he stood dressed in a gray Armani suit, crisp white dress shirt, gray and red tie, and Italian loafers. “We need to determine who is the inside person.” He sat in a chair across from LaVeré and looked up. "What?," he questioned.
LaVeré, who was at the wet bar pouring drinks, just stared at him. He glanced at his watch. “It’s three o’clock in the morning. Are you expecting someone?”
“No,” Joshua replied. “I have to look good at all times. My appearance is paramount to my mission in life.”
LaVeré raised an eyebrow as he handed Joshua a drink. “I can’t wait to hear this. What is your mission in life?”
“To grant as many women around the world as possible the pleasure of my body,” Joshua replied as he accepted the drink. “It’s the American way,” Joshua replied as if the answer was a given. He crossed his legs as he sat back. “Tell me about the ransom demand.” A few hours ago, LaVeré didn’t think he would have anything to laugh about. Now, he could not contain himself. “The American way?”
“Yes, supply and demand. The women demand pleasure and I supply it.”
“Samuel warned me about you, but I must confess, I did not believe he was serious.
“My game is serious.” He took a drink. “Tell me about the ransom demand.”
LaVeré knew both brothers. They were very different yet similar. Both were fearless leaders, extremely loyal and dedicated to their family. Samuel was settled, reserved, and mature, while Joshua was brash, uninhibited, and at times, immature. However, he would put his life in either of their hands, without question. “Now that Zsa Zsa is back, why the questions about the ransom?”
"To find the responsible party you have to follow the money. Or, at least know how the money was to be paid. Then follow that trail wherever it may lead.”
