Control - Noah's Rise Bundle (Books I-III): A Billionaire Romance Series

by M. P. Lodi

  Noah nodded. “Mission accomplished.”

  “Hear, hear!” Mike said.

  Caesar nodded up and down. “I'll do hits on the mob every day if we could.”

  Noah picked up his glass of beer and, before he took a sip, said, “I like how the Daily News called us the AWRA terrorists right under the headline that showed that photo of people with signs calling us all heroes. No one takes anything the media says seriously anymore. I think we're heroes to most of the country, no matter how many times the Mayor or Governor, or now even the President comments about us in between his golfing and vacations all over the world.”

  Charlotte smiled and looked at Noah. “Is Emily still sleeping, Sarge? I'm worried about her.”

  Noah breathed in deeply, then let it out. “She's fine, just scared. Like I said... she gave up her whole life to be with me. She's a good woman; there's no worries there. You know how I trust all of you and had good judgment in putting my trust in you, so you can stop worrying about Em.” He looked at each of them in turn.

  “I trust your judgment, Sarge. We all do. I've also spoken with her. She's completely on the level with us. Like you say, she's just scared,” Jacob said.

  Caesar looked at Jacob. “You just love how she jumps in to support your homosexual agenda.”

  Noah put his palm up to Caesar. “My Lord, give it a break with that shit already, please.”

  Caesar nodded. Noah looked him right in his eyes “You really should watch that movie they spoke about – American Beauty. Consider it an assignment.”

  “Will do, Sarge.”

  Charlotte looked at everyone else. “Who's going to be on body disposal? Angelo is going to be smelling real bad soon downstairs.”

  Mike raised his hand. “I can help. We'll dump it in the river by the Brooklyn Bridge Park again. I know the perfect place. I just need some help carrying him to make it easy, and we also need a lookout. The media will be all over it. Sarge, write a good letter for them to find, we'll wrap it in a baggie like that last one.”

  Caesar made a bird sound. “I'll help. Let's do it tonight.”

  Noah finished off his beer and put the empty glass down. “We're all going to spend a lot of time together, in seclusion away from the world. Going from hideout to hideout, moving only at night. Now they have our photos plastered up everywhere: on the cover of every newspaper, in every post office and even corner poles. We have to be smarter than they are and keep out of the public eye as much as possible.”

  Charlotte took a sip of the hot chocolate that she made from a package of Swiss Miss. With the cup still in her hand, she said, “I kind of... am real glad we're not going to hit the Westbranch assholes. The country's not ready, and I like being the good guys behind the scene, taking out these drug-dealing assholes and giving the money away. It makes me feel good, you know.”

  Joshua and Caesar nodded in agreement.

  Mike cleared his throat. He did that a lot before he would speak. “We're public servants of the first order, and Noah here truly is a modern day Robin Hood like they're all saying.”

  Jacob asked, “And we're his merry band then, huh? Noah Hood sir, you have anything profound to say?”

  Caesar snickered as he looked at Jacob. “Merry...”

  Noah looked at Caesar with pursed lips, but before he could say anything, Caesar said, “I know, Sarge. American Beauty. I'll watch that shit tonight if it’s on Netflix.”

  Charlotte let out a couple of chuckles. Caesar looked at her. “What's so funny, Spiderwoman?”

  Charlotte looked like she was half holding back hysterical laughter. Her eyes were tearing up and face was getting red from holding it in. She had the kind of face and laugh that was contagious. Not as much as Mike, though. Jacob, Mike and Joshua were all on the verge of laughing along with her when she confessed, “I just can't get the picture out of my mind of Caesar watching that movie, and throwing something at the screen when that plastic bag keeps flying around.”

  Caesar asked, “Plastic bag? What the hell is it? Some kind of homosexual bag or something?”

  Charlotte couldn't hold her laughter in any longer and burst out. She reached for the tissue box on the foot table, wiping her eyes as both Joshua and Mike, and then Jacob, glanced at Caesar, who had a confused look on his face. Noah looked like he was holding back his own laughter. It was all much needed stress relief for the crew. Some of the dumbest things could be funny to them. They were all tired and stressed, so, under the circumstances, laughing at the dumbest things was the norm. It was the same back when they were all in Afghanistan. They would sit around telling stories, and the simplest things could get the whole unit laughing.

  Sharing hilarious videos on their cell phone was a favorite hobby, and whatever was popular back in the US also tended to be popular in the military.

  Caesar, the one person not laughing, or at least looking like he wasn't having a good time, asked, “Hey Sarge, where's Frank?”

  Everyone fell silent instantly and looked toward Caesar. Charlotte's jovial mood changed in less than a split second. Caesar continued, “That man is never late.”

  Joshua

  Twenty minutes later, Caesar stared in relief as Frank walked through the door. “Frank man, you scared the shit out of us all! You've never been late in your entire life, and just after we do operations all over the city, you're MIA for over twenty minutes. Not cool in the least. We were about to go to a different safe house.”

  Frank explained, “Sorry brothers, I'm a little extra cautious these days. I thought a car followed me for a few blocks and I had to be sure.”

  Joshua zipped his black backpack closed. He had filled it with a few weapons; the cell phone jammer; a few changes of clothes for him, Frank, Mike and Caesar; and also cash. He called it his OP backpack, and they were all about to leave for an operation in Long Island. This time, the target was a judge who was all over the media as one who let child molesters out of jail for almost any reason. The judge had been brought up on charges himself when he was in his twenties for indecent exposure to a minor, but the charges were dropped. Bill O'Reilly had a special on the man, calling it an outrage how he lets real child molesters off on technicalities. Noah and the rest of the unit had some great intel on where the man lived, and Frank had recently run recon and made a plan of action for the team.

  “I'm sure the FBI will be after us a little harder after this job. Not that we care, as long as we take our precautions,” Noah said.

  Emily walked into the room, and since all seats were taken, she sat on Noah's lap. She asked, “You guys talking about that judge again?”

  Joshua picked his bag up and threw it over by the door near the hallway. “Sure are. That one won't be hurting any more children after tonight.”

  She turned around to face Noah. “You remember what I said about the gradual increases?” She looked at everyone in the room. “All of you understand that this man didn't...”

  Jacob interrupted, “Didn't what, Em? The man has let out fourteen different child molesters. Ten of whom were caught again after they were released by him, when they molested more children. This man needs to die.”

  “Hear, hear!” Caesar exclaimed, followed by Mike who said, “Damn straight.”

  Noah squeezed her waist, and Emily smiled at first, then looked serious again. “You're all fine with this job? It'll be the first target who didn't officially commit a crime in any way. Are you all sure about this? I mean, you all listened to me and Charlotte about that funeral operation, which would have been a disaster afterwards.”

  She looked at Charlotte for support, but none came. Charlotte stared right at her and said, “When I was a kid, someone tried to rape me. I killed that fucker and ended up in juvenile lockup for almost a year. This judge is letting babies – one was just four years old – get seriously hurt. They are being hurt directly because of this child-molesting bastard of a judge. Who says a judge should be above the law?”

  Noah rubbed her sides. “We're about
to be so much more than Noah Hood and his Nine Merry Followers, as that one station called us. Was that CNN by the way?” Mike nodded yes.

  Emily asked again, “Are you sure you are all doing this? I mean you can all back out, even now.”

  Noah hugged her from behind. “This isn't controversial to any of us like the Westbranch Operation was. None of us are afraid to do this to this creature; he is a poor excuse for a human being.”

  Joshua added, “Em, everyone I know would cheer once they find out who this judge is. We're going to make sure everyone knows what he's done.”

  Emily looked at Charlotte sitting on the loveseat by the door. “You say the same too? I'm all alone in having any hesitation on this one?”

  Charlotte explained, “Look at it this way sweetie, if you were 100% sure you stop a guy that you 100% knew was a child molester from molesting another kid, would you do it? Whatever it took?”

  Emily didn't answer her. She looked at Charlotte and breathed out a little harder than usual. Almost a sigh.

  After a couple of seconds of silence, Joshua explained, “Em, this is an instance where the law doesn't work. We know what this man does. He purposely releases child molesters. He has a sympathy for them. He's written on his blog that in ancient times it was normal for the men of Greece or Rome to use children sexually, practically implying that this should be the norm in modern-day America.

  “Not even the media can scare him away. FOX had almost a whole show on the man, and yet he's still a judge. He’s still releasing child-molesting assholes to prey on our children, scarring them for life.”

  Charlotte leaned forward in her seat. “Em, be honest with yourself. Imagine your son or daughter was just molested. You're a law-abiding citizen, and this judge tells you to go fuck yourself and releases the man who scarred your child for life. Then another child, then another and another. The last molester that he freed went on to kidnap and kill an eight-year-old boy. So ask yourself then: does this judge deserve to breathe the same air that we do? Does he have a moral right to let these creatures out to prey on the people? There's not a person in this room who wouldn't gladly take him out if given the chance. As the Sarge says, we’re all wanted and can help society like this, where the mother and father of this judge’s countless victims can't.”

  Caesar said, “I would rather torture this scum for a few days before we off him. He deserves to be in pain before he goes to hell. How about we take him into the sub-basement here and work him over a while before we do him in?”

  Mike nodded in agreement. “Emily, what would you do if we had this virus all tied up in the basement, and we handed you a pistol? Would you take him out?”

  Noah looked to the side and up to Emily, still on his lap. “That's a good question. What would you do, hon?”

  Emily closed her eyes and leaned back into Noah. He was holding her on both sides. She pushed her hair back, then confessed, “I really don't know.”

  Noah tapped Emily's side and motioned for her to get up. She did, and Noah stood as well, saying, “We'd better leave. We want to be early just in case traffic on the Long Island Expressway is bad.”

  Caesar, Jacob, Joshua, Noah, Frank and Mike all collected their bags and walked into the hall. Noah said, “It's time to go hunting for a judge.”

  Emily

  Caesar came back in the room as Emily and Charlotte heard the door upstairs to the driveway close. He opened the fridge and took out a Bud. He looked at Charlotte and Em sitting on the sofas. “One for the road, ya know?”

  Then he beat a hasty retreat and ran up the stairs to catch up to the guys, who could be heard getting into the vehicles. The doors slamming shut told them everyone out there was waiting for Caesar.

  Charlotte looked at Emily and got up off of the loveseat to make her way over to the refrigerator. “You want a Coke or Sprite?” she asked Emily.

  “Sprite... please”

  Charlotte grabbed a few napkins from the counter and placed them around the cans. She took one Coke for herself and a Sprite for Emily. “These things are almost ice-cold.” She handed the Sprite to Emily and sat next to her on the longer sofa.

  “It is cold. Hey... are you on radio duty today?” Emily asked.

  Charlotte opened her Coke up. “Damn, I almost chipped my nail. These cans can be a real pain in the ass to open. What do you mean radio duty?”

  Emily smiled, looking a little curious about Charlotte’s comment. Noah had told her that someone always had to be there at the apartment for emergency radio action to help coordinate the men.

  “That's funny... you're a soldier and used to grime and dirt and getting your hands filthy doing all sorts of things – like shooting people – and yet you complain about almost busting a nail on a can of Coke,” Emily said.

  “What's so funny about that? I’m still a woman, and I do have nails.” Charlotte took a sip of her Coke.

  Imitating Wilbur from that cartoon of Charlotte's Web, Emily explained, “Charlotte. You are a character, like Josh said.”

  Emily decided to not ask about the 'radio duty.' How was it that Charlotte didn't know about it? Why then was she here and not out there helping the men? That made Emily think.

  Charlotte squinted at Emily. “Oh no, not you too.” She smiled and they both took a few sips as Charlotte reached for the remote control.

  Charlotte turned the TV on and looked over to Emily again. “And don't get me started on Josh. Or any of our crazy band of nutcases.”

  She put on Game of Thrones again. Charlotte said, “I've seen all of the episodes. You too... you said a few days ago, right?”

  “Yeah... and I’ve read the novels. My friend Jen turned me on to George R.R. Martin, the author.”

  “I have a question for you then. The guys earlier were talking about a character on the show that called gays 'Sword Swallowers'. They didn't remember who said it. Jacob said Littlefinger, but he wasn't sure. Do you know who said that?” Charlotte asked.

  “Let me guess, Caesar and his homophobia again?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yup. He doesn't let up. Always playing the macho African Warrior. There’s got to be something in the African-American community where they never want to admit to any homosexual urges.”

  “I think the character was the old lady, Olenna Tyrell. The Grandmother. She said her grandson Loras was a 'Sword Swallower' when she was talking to Lord Tywin,” Emily said.

  “Hey, isn't she Diana Rigg from the Avengers? The old TV show, not the superhero movie. She was a pinup too in the 1960s, I'm pretty sure. Right?” Charlotte asked.

  “That she was. Men all over the country adored her.” Emily put the can of soda on the table.

  Charlotte said, “My own father said he whacked off to that woman, in her leather outfits back in the 60s and 70s. Then again, he whacked off to everything. He was one horny man. Like Eddie Murphy said in that video we watched, ‘Come to my house and the fish stop swimming.’”

  Emily laughed.

  “Can I admit something to you?” Emily asked. She looked at Charlotte, who leaned back with the can in her hand.

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  “You ever hear about the boiling frog?”

  Charlotte looked surprised for a brief second, then tilted her head. “Yeah, the story is a metaphor for the unwillingness of people to react to threats that occur gradually. Sort of like creeping state control over our lives. Noah uses it often.” Charlotte said.

  “Well it's true, but think of it as it applies to you, Noah and the rest of us. I mean, you can't put a frog in boiling water, because you know it'll jump out. But you can place him in a pot and then slowly raise the temperature until the frog boils alive.” Emily said.

  “I have to tell you, Em: that is total nonsense. It doesn't work at all. The frog will most definitely jump out before it dies. The metaphor I understand, but it isn't accurate. But go on. Continue with what you were about to say.” Charlotte shook her head and squinted. She obviously wasn't sure what Emily w
as talking about.

  “I'm afraid that all of these operations that Noah and the rest of you are doing… well, you're all like the frog. The situations that you are all taking part in, they’re like the boiling water, and they are getting more serious. You guys have all bled together, and at first, killing a mobster that tried to kill us... well that seems fine to us all. Even I was fine with it. Admittedly, I would have preferred the FBI and the NYPD to handle it. But like Noah said, they couldn't do what he and you and the others did. Now our friends Jen and Jackson back in Texas are really safe with that mobster taken care of. I get that. I understand the need for what was done. But then this aborted funeral job. You know as well as I do, that would have been crossing a big line. Killing civilians. The media and the government would have gone ape shit against all of us. They would have posters on every corner calling us terrorists.”

  Charlotte just listened as Emily kept talking.

  “I mean, I know I'm rambling a little, but you've all said you would do anything Noah asked. That kind of blind loyalty is seriously dangerous, even if to my own man. If and when he wanted to do another Westbranch operation, or something similar, then what?”

  Charlotte put her right hand on Emily's leg. “Sweetie, don't worry about the judge thing. That is not on the level you're thinking about, but I understand where you're going. Let's just relax. I'll be that extra voice to calm the Sarge down. You and I can work together and keep us all safe. Deal?”

  Emily nodded. “I'm so glad you understand.” Emily felt a little kinship with Charlotte. They were both women, both were now wanted as well. Emily hadn't really done anything except leave Texas with Noah. And they both had to deal with men from Day One. Every woman can understand that one. It would be nice to have a little help in nudging Noah in the right direction. Charlotte might be the perfect help in that respect. Emily already knew that Noah respected her, so the two of them working together could be a force for good.