by M. P. Lodi
“You know I'll be there. Later, guys. I have a fly attached to my bed, you know me.”
Joshua shook his head and smiled at Noah as Charlotte hung up. “I did tell you there was another reason I called her Spiderwoman, right?” Joshua asked.
Noah licked his teeth with his mouth closed and nodded. “Hey what you two do in private is your own business. I've done a lot of weird shit myself.” He looked over at Emily who was listening to the conversation as she read a newspaper that she bought at a gas station in New Jersey. She looked at Noah and Joshua, the latter of which had a smile on his face. She smirked and then looked back at the paper.
Emily abruptly put the paper down on her lap. “Before you guys call another of your buddies, listen to this.” She picked the paper up closer to read it. “Noah has been seen increasingly as a hero, with internet memes popping up depicting how he handled the hitmen trying to kill him and the people he cared about. People all over the United States have responded on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram with videos and photos providing words of support for the man who 'did what he had to do' in his fight against organized crime. You can be assured of one thing, the hitmen who tried to kill Noah and his friends will never kill again.”
Emily turned her head to look at Noah. “You're a freaking hero to many and yet wanted by the law. It’s amazing how starved the country is for heroes these days.”
“Wait until they report on what happens next” Noah said confidently.
Joshua and Noah exchanged a glance. Noah saw that Emily caught that look and knew she would later ask what he was referring to. Noah said, “Dial 917-328-7448” to Joshua who then dialed the number. “That's Caesar's number right? 917- Eat-Shit?” The phone was ringing.
Emily asked, “His throw-away phone number is 917 Eat Shit? You kidding me or what? How did he manage that one for a throw-away?”
Noah put his right hand on her knee and squeezed it. “I kid you not. He paid to get that number. Not sure how, I think he used Google. They have some service that lets you make up numbers to mask your own. He was just lucky it was available. He'll have a different number by next week.”
After three rings another electronic sounding voice picked up. This one was deep, and sounded a bit like Morpheus from the Matrix.
“Who is it?”
Noah gestured for Joshua to put the phone closer to him. “Who do you think, My Lord?”
“Ah Shit, Sa... I mean, Big Man. Are you local? Been readin' about ya. I'm impressed.”
Noah smiled at Joshua and then motioned for him to take over the conversation. Joshua asked, “You have everything in place from M?”
“You know me, brother. Been layin’ low due to you know what. Had to bust someone's head just last night at a bar. Motherfucker joked about us soldiers and said we're all losers since Vietnam. You know I had to rearrange his teeth. The asshole is lucky I didn't really lay more hurt on his ass. Can't stand unpatriotic assholes, ya know?”
Caesar was his actual first name. The Army had messed up and listed his first name as Cezar, but he never bothered to change it. He ended up getting a driver’s license in the Army and basically maintained a separate ID for the hell of it. Noah called him 'My Lord' after they met in Afghanistan, and the name stuck.
Caesar liked to talk of his royal African heritage, some Prince in Nigeria, he claimed, from the 19th century. That prompted Joshua and Jacob to constantly joke about how Caesar must have 20 million dollars and just found the long-lost recipient that he needed to give it to, alluding to the Nigerian scam where old and/or gullible people are contacted by a bank in Africa, claiming that a long-lost relative left money in their bank and they wanted them to claim it. For access to their bank account and a small processing fee, the huge sum of money would be wired to the gullible person's bank account. That was one of the most common scams used in the US for years.
“We meeting up tonight?” Caesar asked.
Joshua looked at Noah first, then answered, “We're meeting Spiderwoman at 2100. We can meet you at Pig Pit F at the same time.”
Emily put the newspaper down and looked puzzled again. Noah knew what she would ask about. At least he thought he knew.
“Affirmative.” Then they heard the line go dead.
Noah squeezed Emily's leg again and said, “That boy is a trip. Best damned grenade thrower you'll ever see though, and he can run like the wind. He's also our own MacGyver or Mr. T from the A-Team. Give him a pack of gum, a copper wire and some detergent, and he can make a bomb. ”
Joshua did a half laugh. “Yeah... and he claimed his Royal ancestry is from his Zulu heritage, until Jacob here pointed out that the Zulu are from Southern Africa, no-where near Nigeria.”
Jacob started laughing while still looking forward, keeping his eyes on the road. After what sounded like a wheezing five-second laugh, he said, “It's that superior African heritage he is always claiming... That's why I call him Checkov.”
That made Joshua laugh a little. Poor Emily sat there looking dumbfounded at all three of the men in the car. When his friends spoke of references that only they knew, it was difficult for anyone to follow. Noah sympathized with Emily.
She cleared her throat. “OK, I need to know a few things. First isn't Checkov a Russian name? How is that connected to this 'Caesar's' African heritage?”
Joshua turned back around and looked at Noah. “You want me to explain?” he asked.
“I got this,” Noah replied, as he again squeezed Emily's leg. She put both of her hands on his right hand that gripped her thigh. The pressure made her smile.
Noah explained, “Checkov is the Russian from Star Trek who always claimed how superior Russia was. He would repeat over and over again that Russians did everything better than everyone else. Caesar does that as well, only for him, he constantly talks of the superiority of Africans.”
“OK then, I get that. But what does Pig Pit F mean?” Emily asked.
Noah replied again, “That's another easy one. One of our buddies who you'll meet tonight named Mike, got himself punched in the face while a freshman at Richmond Hill High School, which is on 14th Street off of Atlantic Avenue in Queens. That's not far from the safe house that we're going to in Brooklyn.
“Pig Pit F is an acronym for 'Place I got Punched In the Face’, which at the time, was a deli on the corner of 114th street and Atlantic Avenue. Now it's some discount auto parts shop.”
“Place I got punched in the face?” Emily was smiling and Joshua turned around to look at the two of them.
Joshua added, “Mike is a character, got his face punched in that store and promised himself that it was the last time he would ever back down from a fight. That happened when he was 14 years old. You have to see the dude now. He's built like a brick shit house. He and Noah used to compete with each other to see who could get bigger faster.”
Emily looked at Noah again. “You better not be working out with Mike, you know what I'm saying.”
Noah smiled again and leaned over to kiss Emily on her left cheek. “Yes dear, I promise.”
“One last thing I have to ask is: what time is 2100? I never understood military time.”
Noah tilted his head and smiled. “That's the easiest thing in the world. Military time is so simple to learn in like 5 seconds. If you ever hear any number over 12, just subtract 12 and you have the civilian time. So if you hear 0900, that means nine in the morning. If someone says 1200, that means noon. If they say 1300, then what time is it?”
“I guess 1 pm.” She said.
“You guess or you know?” Noah smirked. Emily opened her mouth as though she were about to say something nasty. Noah quickly said, “It is. So then what time is 2100?”
Emily licked her upper teeth and bobbed her head as if she were pissed that Noah was testing her. She thought about it a second and said, “Nine PM since it's 21 minus 12. I can count you know.”
“Oh I know it.” Noah looked to the front seat to made sure both Joshua and Jacob were looking ahea
d. Then he turned back to Emily and made out like he was spanking the air with his right hand while holding her ass with his left. He said “You remember that, hon. 1, 2, 3.”
Emily stared into his eyes as he spanked the air next to her lap. She gave him her best evil eyes and that made him stop mid-spank. He put his hand down, smiled and then looked out of his window, avoiding her eye contact.
After a few seconds, he knew she had still been staring right at him though, and he turned to look into her eyes. He then moved closer and kissed her on her cheek, before whispering into her ear so his buddies didn't hear, “I promise, the next time you ever want to experiment with spankings, I'll do it right. Warm up and all. We won't repeat the last episode from when we were back in Texas where I made that sweet ass of yours all red.”
He kissed her on her neck, and then whispered, “Like I told you, I'm going to be the lover you always fantasized about. I promise.”
He pulled back and looked into her eyes. She looked at him, believing every word. Her face said it all. This woman gave up her own life to be with him. She wasn't wanted and had done nothing at all except love a hot tempered ex-soldier. A soldier who realized more and more how much he loved his loyal little woman.
He should consider himself an ex-soldier from now on even though he was supposed to be in the Active Reserves for another three years. It was doubtful that he'd make any weekend warrior meets from here on.
Jen
“Guess who wrote to us here at the office?” Jen asked Jackson right as he picked up a call. Jen stood next to Jackson's desk as he listened to whoever he was speaking to.
His eyebrows went up as he looked at Jen, then he put his pointer finger up to her. “Sorry Glen, I need to take care of an important matter. Let me call you a little later on this, OK?”
Jackson hung up the phone and watched as Jen tore the envelope open. It was addressed to Mrs. Jackson Russo and the return address said M.
Jen walked over to the sofa beside Jackson's huge Rosewood Executive desk and sat down. He came out from behind the desk and sat next to her.
They both looked over the letter that it was in code.
“Seclan?” he asked as he looked down at it. She nodded yes.
“What does it say?” It was a short note, and she moved it over for him to read too.
She finished reading it in just 20 seconds, then handed it to Jackson. “You can read it now. You've had like a week of translating my diaries.”
He took the note and started to read it. He had to go letter by letter in his head because he still had trouble understanding a couple of the letters.
“I don't understand. She says we can leave her a message that she will check weekly under the big rose rock?”
He looked at Jen, who was smiling and happy. “Silly! That means where you and I met. We called that big rock by the tree the Rose Rock. It was where you handed me that white rose while still in pain from your fall. Come on hubby, it was the most romantic way to meet ever. That's the reason Emily started writing her romance novels about us and them.”
“I guess then... we are going to take a trip to New York.”
Jen nodded up and down excitedly. “I knew she would write. Book tickets already, please. First flight out. We can stay right there at your estate in South Hampton.”
“Our estate,” he corrected her, making her smile.
“I'll have my security people sweep that house before we get there as a precaution. Did you know that these security sweeps for bugs cost us $8900 each time? We might as well invest in all of the equipment ourselves since we have sweeps done often.”
“I'm so happy, you have no idea. I just wish my Aunt and Em's Mom were back from Europe. We've had them there for weeks already.”
“Well you wanted them to have the grand tour. I think they're finishing up in Rome this week. They were supposed to check in with us yesterday, but never called. I'm a little worried about that. You see the photo they took while in Pisa?”
She nodded yes and asked, “Why does everyone take the same photo? It’s as if they want to make believe they were holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa themselves.”
A worried look flashed across Jackson’s face. Jen read his mind and asked, “You don't think they could have been tracked to Europe to get back at us and Noah, do you?”
Jackson tilted his head and put his right hand over his mouth as he thought about that. Jen's worry line, the one that went right between her eyebrows, showed as she looked to Jackson for reassurances that never came.
Noah
Noah, Emily, Joshua and Jacob arrived at the corner of 114th Street and Atlantic Avenue in Queens, N.Y. Also known as Pig Pit F by Noah and his crew. They double-parked and waited in the car until a black Humvee pulled up in front of them. Noah, Joshua and Jacob all looked into the Hummer as it passed.
Joshua fought back laughter. “Are you sure Caesar is trying to stay under the radar? Look at that Hummer!”
Noah covered his eyes with his right hand while smiling, then pinched between his eyes. “I guess hiding in plain sight can work in a big city like New York.”
A lady with sunglasses and long red hair – obviously a wig – pulled up next to Noah in what looked to be a 2010 Grey Honda Accord. She stared at him and smiled. Noah smiled back. She then pulled up further to look into the driver’s seat. She looked at Jacob and said 'Medic', then glanced over to Joshua on Jacob's right, riding shotgun. She stared at him for about 3 seconds until Joshua said “Charlotte,” imitating Wilbur the pig from the cartoon Charlotte's Web.
Charlotte huffed, picked her sunglasses up and let them rest on her head, then closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. She pulled up to the Hummer. Joshua turned around to look at Noah, who chuckled a little. “You know she hates you doing that shit, man. More and more lately.”
“Oh... I know it,” Joshua replied.
Noah looked at his watch. “It's just hitting 2100. Where the hell is Mike?”
Emily looked around, as did Joshua. Jacob just put his palm up and said, “No idea, Sarge. It's not like him to be late for anything. He is usually exactly on time, if not early.”
Suddenly a hulking man popped up next to Emily's window. He had on a black jacket, sunglasses, and jeans. Emily jumped and exclaimed “Fuck!” as she turned and saw him standing there with his face at her window.
Noah reached for his Glock, but stopped when he saw it was Mike showing his pearly white teeth with his exaggerated smile. “It's Mike, Em, no need to worry your self. He enjoys doing things like that. He can be amazingly stealthy for a man with such a large body.”
Emily rolled down the window and Noah talked over her as she sat back to let them look at each other.
Noah asked “You do have a car... right?”
Mike shook his head. “I had to ditch it, Sarge. There was a chance I was tailed up until a few miles from here. You guys let me sneak right up on you. That's not like you. You're all slipping.”
Joshua said, “Jump in the Hummer with Caesar .”
“Will do.” He tapped Emily's door and smiled at her before walking to the passenger side of the Hummer.
Charlotte pulled off as soon as Mike slammed the passenger door of the Hummer shut. Caesar was following her. Jacob followed Caesar.
Ten minutes later all three cars were parked on Pine Street, between Fulton Avenue and Atlantic Blvd, in Brooklyn. One of the safe-houses – or safe-apartments in this case – was the basement apartment at 143 Pine Street. It was a large, white, two-family structure with gates surrounding it.
After everyone left their cars, Charlotte waved them all into the driveway which led to the side door of the home. A spiral staircase led them all down into the basement.
Charlotte threw her wig onto a chair, and removed a couple of hair pins, releasing her long and silky brown hair. Joshua sat down on a gray loveseat that hugged the wall by the door and asked, “So this is still the spider's web for the time being? Weren’t you moving over to the Bra
vo site in the Bronx?”
She looked at him as though she wanted to slap him. Noah and Emily sat down on the long sofa next to the loveseat, facing the TV. Mike sat his huge ass down next to Noah, causing Noah to shake his head first as he shifted further down to accommodate Mike’s size. Emily was slightly squished on her end and had to partially sit on Noah to be more comfortable.
Jacob stood awkwardly, like someone playing musical chairs who found himself without a seat, until Charlotte said, “Grab the bean bag chair in the next room.” He dutifully walked into the next room to get it. Caesar grabbed the remote for the TV and turned on FOX News, staring at the screen with arms crossed in front of him.
A story began, detailing the murder of Lorenzo Russo in New York and describing Noah’s role in saving the day by disarming the assailant. Noah knocked out a man who turned out to be a hitman for the Gambino crime family in New York, a man who, along with his brother, may have killed a dozen or more people. However, because the man had no criminal record, he was let out on bail, and then proceeded to try to kill Noah and his friends a second time back in Texas. That's when Noah had enough.
Everyone in the room watched as the reporter explained how Noah was called a hero by a growing legion of people, almost a hundred thousand strong, who passed along his memes using Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.
Charlotte opened the fridge and took out a pitcher of iced tea. “You're a damned folk hero, Sarge. I read an article yesterday saying how we need more men of action like you, men who don't take any shit.”
Emily was quiet as Noah rubbed her leg. He kissed her on her cheek to make her feel more comfortable.
Charlotte stood next to Caesar with one hand holding a glass. She turned to Noah and asked, “Who's the new lady?” She looked right at Emily, staring her up and down as though she was inspecting her from head to toe.
Emily said, “Hi, My name's Emily. Everyone calls me ‘Em’. I'm Noah's better half.”
