The Cartel 7--Illuminati--Roundtable of Bosses

by Ashley

  CHAPTER 3

  The whir of the ceiling fan was the only sound that could be heard as Bernice Jackson filled out the intake paperwork in front of her. Office hours had come and gone, yet here she sat, under strict orders to process these two kids tonight. She looked through the one-way window, observing the young men who sat in the room. They had no idea they were being watched, their movements and every word recorded for later review. Bernice had been working for Florida Social Services for twenty years and she had never had so much urgency placed on her shoulders regarding the handling of incoming children. The U.S. attorney himself was headed all the way to her office to personally oversee the placement of these two boys. She couldn’t help but wonder who they were and why they garnered so much interest.

  She sighed in frustration. She wasn’t particularly happy that she was working overtime and as she hammered out the work she waited impatiently for the U.S. attorney to arrive. It was quite odd that someone from such a high level was even getting involved at all. The sound of the electronic doors opening let her know that the man of the hour had finally arrived. She stood from her desk as two suits entered the room.

  “That’s them?”

  The entitlement of white privilege entered the room as the prestigious man didn’t even bother with the formality of introductions before getting down to business.

  “Yes, that’s Monroe Diamond II and Carter Jones Jr.,” Bernice replied.

  “Ages?”

  “Monroe is twelve and Carter is eight. If I may ask, sir—”

  “You may not,” the U.S. attorney said. He turned and looked at the security cameras. “Turn those off.”

  “Sir, I can lose my job for that. Every second that these kids are here needs to be recorded. I can’t just shut it off,” Bernice responded.

  “This is above your pay grade. Shut the cameras off please.”

  Bernice reluctantly followed the instructions. What the hell does he want with these kids? Who are they? she thought. She had immediately assumed they were the sons of drug-addicted parents, perhaps an abusive mother or deadbeat father. She had seen so many different scenarios of neglect in her line of work but none of her previous cases had received such high-ranking attention.

  “Where is the paperwork?”

  The U.S. attorney didn’t even look at her as he spoke. His eyes remained glued on the window as he watched them intently. She hurriedly retrieved their folders and handed them over.

  He flipped through the pages, briefly scanning the documents before he turned to her and said, “There are one of two things that can happen to you tonight. You can forget what you are about to see and I will call in a personal favor to promote you, or you can take the moral road and be fired right now, on the spot. The choice is yours.”

  Bernice felt cornered and her stomach sank because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be involved in whatever plot was about to unfold. “They are only kids,” she whispered.

  “They are pawns and they are going to help me catch the king,” he answered before walking into the room.

  * * *

  Mo’s face twisted in mistrust as soon as he laid eyes on the man in the stiff suit.

  “Hello Monroe, hello Carter, I’m a friend of your family…”

  C.J. looked at Mo for confirmation and Mo simply shook his head, letting C.J. know that this man was not an ally of theirs. Mo sniffed out the hidden agenda instantly and his guard was up.

  “I’m sorry about what happened to your father, Monroe. I’m sorry you had to see that. I know that must have been hard.” The U.S. attorney was trying the sympathetic route first, but there was nothing he could say to Mo and C.J. to get them on his side.

  “Don’t talk about my dad,” Mo said in a low tone. He could feel the dull ache that formed in his chest. Every time he thought about the bullets that had ripped through his father it made his heart feel tender. He didn’t know that it was sadness that gripped him and he was uncomfortable with the vulnerability that came along with the memories.

  “I know it’s hard for you to speak about. No child deserves to see their parent—”

  “I told you don’t talk about my dad!” Mo said as he looked the grown man square in the eye. The look on his face was filled with hurt and fury, but still the attorney pressed.

  “You boys belong with family. I need you to help me find your father, Carter,” the attorney said, hoping to get better luck with C.J. “If we can just contact him, he can come and take you both home. You don’t have to stay here. If we can locate a relative, you can go home.”

  The smile plastered on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes as he looked back and forth between the boys. Monroe avoided the man’s intense stare as he flipped his hoodie over his head and crossed his arms.

  “What do you say, Carter?” the man pushed.

  “I ain’t got nothing to say either,” C.J. answered.

  The U.S. attorney nodded, losing patience. “Okay, you little shits.” He grabbed Mo around his bicep, squeezing so tightly that it felt like it would snap.

  “Ow, man! Let me go!” Mo shouted as he tried to pull away, kicking and pushing the man to no avail.

  “Get off him!” C.J. was out of his seat in the blink of an eye, throwing futile punches. If one fought, they both fought. It was how they were raised. Protecting one another was always their first instinct even in an unwinnable situation. It was what made them close. They were more like brothers than cousins and to be sitting here in this office with this strange man who was desperate to take down their family put them on the defense. They were being ripped apart, from the very top of the food chain down to the small fish. They were throwing kicks and fists trying to defend not only themselves but their family. Their frustrations had mounted and this was the result.

  “Can I get some help in here?” the attorney shouted as he pushed C.J. with full force. C.J. lost his balance and fell headfirst into the metal table. The metal corner connected with his temple and a loud crack echoed throughout the room. Suddenly everything in his line of sight turned white.

  Blood spewed and C.J. reached for his head as he cringed in pain. He felt wetness, blood, he assumed, as it seeped through his fingers and he blinked repeatedly, trying to make his surroundings appear before his eyes again. “I can’t see! I can’t see!” he shouted, frantically, the sudden blindness scaring him. It was like someone had shined a light directly in his face. He stumbled, dazed from the blow, as dizziness disoriented him. His heart was racing so fast, adrenaline coursing through him as he struggled to stand to his feet. He was confused and it felt like bolts of lightning were going off inside his head. He fell back against the wall. “I can’t fa—fa—fa—” C.J.’s speech became incoherent as his body shuddered violently. He was seizing from the impact of the blow.

  “What did you do to him? What you do to my cousin, man?!” Mo shouted in anger as he struggled against the attorney’s grip. “Help him! What did you do?!”

  Bernice rushed in and hurried over to C.J. The sight of him convulsing uncontrollably terrified her. “Call 911,” she screamed urgently as she kneeled over his body. She looked back over her shoulder and noticed the U.S. attorney’s hesitation. “If you don’t want to explain this boy’s death, I advise you to pick up the phone and call for help now!”

  Still, he took his time, knowing that an explanation would be required to excuse what had happened.

  “Sir!” Bernice insisted. This boy is going to die in here and I’m going to lose my job, she thought.

  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed for help.

  “They were fighting and while trying to separate them, he fell and hit his head on the table,” the attorney said. “You got it?” He stared intently at Bernice, who nodded her head while looking on in fear at C.J.

  “You’re lying, you did this! You pushed him!” Mo shouted, defensively.

  The U.S. attorney bent Mo’s arm behind his back, twisting it so far that it felt like it would snap.

  B
ernice watched in horror. She didn’t want to lose her job trying to save two boys she didn’t know, but the entire situation felt wrong.

  Mo stretched out his arm across the desk and grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on. When his hand wrapped around the pencil he stabbed backward, hitting the U.S. attorney directly in the eye.

  “Agh!”

  Mo was tackled to the ground with force and he grimaced as a knee was put into his back. Suddenly there was chaos in the room as paramedics and police officers entered moments later. “C.J.!” Mo could barely breathe. The weight from the grown man holding him down was constricting his lungs from filling with air. He felt the pinch of the metal cuffs as they shackled him before pulling him off the floor. The U.S. attorney was being loaded onto a stretcher as another team of paramedics worked on C.J. “Is he okay?” Mo cried, his heart filled with worry. They were the last two standing and if something happened to C.J., Mo would be alone to navigate through the world.

  “You need to worry about yourself right now. You’re in a lot of trouble, son,” the officer said. Mo craned his neck, struggling to see C.J. as the police escorted him out of the room. He could feel it in his soul that this would be the last time he would lay eyes on his family and the hurt he felt was tremendous. As they stuffed him into the back of a squad car he felt caged, like an animal that just wanted to roam free. First, they had separated the men from the women in their family, and then they had divided the women from their children. Now they were tearing the children from one another. The government was breaking them down to a point past repair. Things couldn’t get any worse, and as the car pulled away Mo dropped his head as tears of fear fell silently down his cheeks.

  * * *

  Waking up had never been so hard. As C.J. laid in the hospital bed, he was conscious beneath the surface, he just couldn’t quite get to the light. He lay still, hearing the comings and goings around him as he desperately willed himself to move. The social worker had come to check on his state, someone from the U.S. Attorney’s office had stopped in to remind the social worker what the story was, and even the police had shown up to take an official report. He heard it all and after three days of trying with all his might, he finally opened his eyes. There was instant pain and he touched the side of his head, grimacing as he pressed lightly on the bandages.

  “Hey, C.J. Welcome back, buddy. My name is Ms. Bernice.”

  The social worker, C.J. thought, recognizing her voice. He kept reminding himself that she wasn’t his friend. She was on the side of the state, the person who had intentions of splitting up him and Mo. Don’t trust her, he thought. Bernice sat in a chair in the corner of his room. He didn’t understand her worried expression. She wasn’t his family. She didn’t know him. Why was she even still here? “Where is Mo?” It was a genuine question. Is he hurt too?

  “Mo is being sent to juvenile detention, C.J. He is in some trouble. You won’t be able to see him for a while,” Bernice responded.

  “And what about me?” C.J. asked. “Am I going there too?” C.J. wanted the answer to be yes. They had faced worse than lockup together. As long as he was with his older cousin, he didn’t care where he ended up. It was the separation that gave him anxiety.

  “No C.J., you aren’t. You’re going home.”

  C.J. looked at her in confusion. There was no one home to receive him. Death and destruction had surrounded him. Was this lady playing some type of cruel joke? “I don’t have a home anymore.”

  “Hopefully one day you will see this new place as your home,” Bernice replied. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in the custody of the state. I could lose my job for this C.J., but I also would not be working in your best interest if I took you back to Social Services. After seeing how the U.S. attorney behaved, I fear for your safety.”

  C.J. was quiet partly because he didn’t know what to say. Who was this lady? Making him her problem? Why was she taking the responsibility to care for him? Nobody was this nice and those who were usually had an angle. He couldn’t figure out hers, but knew in due time it would reveal itself.

  “To manipulate a child against their parent is unfair. Whatever your family did has nothing to do with you. I am sorry this all has happened to you,” Bernice said.

  The entire situation made C.J. uncomfortable. She’s just trying to get me to talk about the family. She’s the good cop, C.J. thought as he remained silent. He remembered his mother telling him that it was easier to get your way using sugar than shit. This is the sugar, he thought.

  “Mo’s fate is out of my hands,” she continued. “His file has been transferred to juvenile court where he will face charges of assault.”

  That revelation got his attention and C.J.’s breath caught in his throat, choking him, as emotion built in his chest. He was the younger cousin. He was used to following, not leading. Even under extreme duress C.J. could maintain his courage when Mo was at his side, but here, in this hospital room with this lady laying it on thick, he felt exposed. He felt vulnerable. He felt defenseless. He had no options. This lady was making the decisions and he had to obey, despite the warning his gut was telling him that she was leading him to the slaughter.

  “Your future hasn’t been written yet, and I will do all I can to make sure that the U.S. attorney never gets his hands on you. Once you’re discharged, you will come home with me. This is a good thing. I think you will be really comfortable there.”

  She would mark up his file as a runaway. No one would think twice to question it. In fact, no one would even care. Foster children ran away all the time and C.J. would just be another one lost. He had no family on the outside to come around asking questions. It was just C.J. He was the last one standing so it was easy to make him slip through the cracks and disappear without anyone taking notice. “I’m going to get the doctor,” Bernice said as she stood and walked out of the room.

  C.J. laid his head back on the pillow, overwhelmed. Even when Baraka had taken him, he had never been completely isolated. Mo was always there, always reminding him that although they were far away from home, he would always watch his back. He would rather be locked up in juvenile with Mo than live in some stranger’s house. Trust was simply not extended to any outsider. Bernice could smile and make promises of security all day, but there was a void behind her eyes. It was as if the sentiments she expressed were shallow and C.J. could see right through her. Normally when a person was too friendly it meant they really weren’t friendly at all and C.J. was filled with dread as he pondered the rough days to come.

  CHAPTER 4

  Carter and Anari sat next to each other as they rode in a golf cart that was steered by one of the servants from the emperor’s mansion. The property had a full eighteen-hole golf course, full of nothing but healthy green grass and sand bunkers. They were followed by a few more carts with the rest of the team in them as they traveled to the rear of the property where there was nothing but woods and bushes.

  “Where are we going?” Anari asked as she looked at the forest and then back at Carter.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered nonchalantly as he shrugged his shoulders. Ghost was in the front of all the carts, driving his own as they came to a complete stop just before the green grass ended and the wooded area began. Ghost stepped off his cart, wearing another well-fitted Italian suit. He then waited for everyone to get off the carts and signaled for the servants to head back to the house before he began to address his team.

  “I know what it looks like. Like a bunch of woods, right?” Ghost said as he showed his signature smile. He then buttoned his suit jacket and nodded in the direction of the forest. “Come on, let me show you what’s really going on.” Ghost headed toward the woods and eventually onto a dirt trail that led into the abyss of the dark shaded area. Everyone looked at one another, trying to make sense of their walking into the woods, but everyone shrugged their shoulders and followed him into the unknown.

  Carter was the youngest of the bunch and seemingly t
he bravest because he was right behind Ghost as their journey began. They all followed carefully and the sounds of twigs breaking and leaves being ruffled filled the air. The deeper they went, it seemed like the darker it got. The tall trees and an abundance of leaves seemed to block out the sunlight, only allowing small beams of light to break through the cracks and crevices of mother nature. After about five minutes of walking and no one saying a word, Brick was the first to talk.

  “Yo homie, how long do we have until we get there? Scuffing up my loafers and shit,” he said arrogantly as he shook his head in disappointment.

  “It’s just ahead! Up here,” Ghost said as he pointed while steadily making his way up the path. Everyone’s eyes shot forward and a huge brick building sat oddly in the middle of the woods. It seemed totally out of place and random. However, they all knew that it was their destination. The huge building had no signs and no windows. It was unlike any other building that they had ever seen. Just a brick building with a steel door entrance. The outside of it was filled with shrubs, trees, and dirt. There was absolutely no landscaping whatsoever and that was by design. This location was meant to be top secret and off the radar. The intention was to not attract anyone that wasn’t involved with the doings going on inside.

  They finally got to the front door and it was a ten-foot mass of steel and had no door handles or peepholes. There was just a keypad with a red backlight. Ghost stepped in front of the keypad and commenced typing in a sequence of numbers that seemed to take him forever to do. Finally, the keyboard’s backlight turned green and Ghost stepped back and stood with his hands crossed in front of himself. A single beep sounded and almost instantly the steel doors parted, opening into the world of tomorrow.