The Kasparov Agenda (Omega Ops Legion Book 1)

by C. S. De Mel

  “I would’ve called ahead, but I didn’t have a phone number.” It was Laura Bennett.

  “The manor doesn’t have a phone.”

  “Big mansion, no phone—that’s classy.”

  “Well, come in if you’re coming in.” Varick ushered her inside, took a quick glance outside, then shut the door. “You weren’t followed or anything, were you?”

  Laura raised an eyebrow. “Is it just you that’s paranoid, or is that a trait all you Legion members share?” Varick stared at her expectantly. Laura rolled her eyes. “I know when I’m being followed—no, I wasn’t followed.”

  “Good.” Varick shrugged. “Sorry, just a bit on edge these days. Let me take your coat.”

  “Thanks.”

  Bruce, Alex, and Leo were drawn to the door by the chatter. “Hello, there!” Bruce greeted. Varick introduced the three of them to each other.

  Laura shook hands with Bruce and Alex. “Very nice to meet you both.” She pointed between Varick and the Kasparovs. “So, all three of you are part of the Legion?”

  “Well, technically Alex isn’t,” Bruce corrected.

  “But I’m working on it,” said Alex.

  Leo walked up to Laura’s feet and stared up at her. “Hey, how are you, Leo?” Laura bent down to pet him.

  “I see you’ve already met our local mutt.” Leo’s head turned sharply to growl at Bruce. “Relax, buddy, I’m just yanking your chain.” Bruce smirked and whispered to Laura: “He doesn’t like being called a mutt.”

  Laura grinned. “Sounds like Varick’s dog alright.”

  Bruce laughed. “Right!? So, what can we do for you, Ms. Bennett?”

  Varick folded his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, why are you here?”

  “Well—”

  Bruce put out his hand to stop her. “Hold on, where are our manners. Take off your shoes and join us in the living room, where we can have a proper sit-down.”

  Laura shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

  Bruce, Alex, Varick, and Laura sat down on the leather couches around the coffee table.

  “Hungry?” Bruce asked.

  “No, I actually had a bite to eat before coming.”

  “Drink?”

  “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  “You sure?”

  Laura nodded. “Yup, I’m good.”

  Varick eyed Bruce. “Finished?”

  “Hey, I was just being hospitable, it didn’t seem like you were going to do it. Varick’s socially oblivious,” Bruce informed Laura, who laughed.

  Varick ignored him. “So, what’s this about, Laura?”

  Laura’s smile vanished and she looked at Varick seriously. “I want to join the Legion.”

  “Really?” Varick was not expecting that and, frankly, was slightly confused by it. “Why?”

  “Because it has become painfully clear to me that there are large forces at work within this city that reach out much further than New York. Forces that reach outside our jurisdiction. But not outside the Legion’s. I think it would be beneficial for both parties to allow the sharing of resources: to more efficiently and better serve the public.”

  “Technically, we already do that,” Varick stated. “I mean, I’ve worked with Roy and Henry for years, and they keep us up to date with police intel.”

  “I actually talked to them before coming here. They have no interest in joining the Legion. They’re content with being on the outside of it, but I’m not. I became a police officer to uphold justice. To help make the world I live in a safer place for everyone. If joining the Legion means I can better carry out those duties, I owe it to myself and everyone else to do so. I understand that Roy and Henry give you information, John. Well, I can be the liaison to gather information that the Legion has, to help with police investigations. We’re both fighting the same battles. Just tell me how I can join—give me a chance to prove my worth.” She looked from Varick to Bruce anxiously. “Please.”

  “Well, you definitely got the right attitude,” Bruce said, impressed. “It’s simple really—you only have to get the approval from a full-fledged member of the Legion to join the club. So, tell me a little bit about yourself. Detective Laura Bennett in a nutshell.”

  “Is this the interview?”

  Bruce grinned. “There’s no interview. This is just getting acquainted. You want a glass of wine? Maybe a beer? Something harder?”

  Laura laughed. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” She stared curiously at Bruce, trying to size him up. “You know, first impressions—you aren’t the brute the media is currently making you out to be.”

  “Glad you feel that way. But Varick, on the other hand...” Bruce shook his hand. “Ehh...”

  “Yeah, I think I’ve seen a bit of that side from John.”

  “Probably because you still call me John,” Varick said, irked.

  “You know what would really piss off John? A nickname.”

  Bruce’s face lit up. “Yes. Yes!”

  Laura rubbed her hands together. “Let’s see now... Johnny boy? Little Johnny!”

  “Johnny Appleseed!” Bruce added.

  “Johnnycakes!”

  Alex put his fist in his mouth out of respect for Varick, but Bruce exercised no restraint and burst out laughing. “Oh ho-ho! I think we have a winner! Our little Johnnycakes, you just want to eat him up!” Bruce tried to ruffle Varick’s hair, but Varick grabbed his wrist.

  Varick concealed his urge to laugh with a sneer. “If any of those become a running thing, I will kill you both.”

  “You can try to, but I wouldn’t bank on it.” Bruce broke free from Varick’s grip. “Okay-okay, back to business. So far, I like the way you think, Laura.” Bruce shot a half-glance at Varick and managed to push down another bout of laughter. “But what about the media? You’re not bothered by everything they’ve been saying about us in the papers? Over the radio and television?”

  “I can think for myself. If anything, the media bombardment just makes me more certain I want to join. I’ve worked side by side with Legion members, and it’s clear to me that all the negative publicity is BS.” She looked at Varick. “John, if the other members have the heart you do to fight for what’s right, I know this organization is something I want to be a part of.”

  Bruce stroked his chin. “Actually, on second thought—Varick, you already know Laura, right? Is she Legion material?”

  “What?” Varick said, startled. Laura looked at Varick expectantly. “I—well...I mean, yeah, she’s a good detective. Santos has met her too; I’m sure he feels the same way. And she’s helped me out of a few jams.” Laura beamed at him.

  Bruce shrugged. “Well, that’s good enough for me. Varick’s given you the okay—you’re in.”

  “I’m in?”

  “Yeah. Welcome!”

  Laura’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand. Just like that? Isn’t there some sort of test or training to complete?”

  “Nope, that’s it. Leo didn’t bite you, if you want to call that a test... He’s a good judge of character.” Leo was lying down on the carpet by Laura’s feet.

  Laura laughed. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I mean, there’s formal training available, but it’s not mandatory. All you really need to join is to come of your own free will and have the desire to positively contribute to Legion duties. If you were expecting to write an exam and have a fancy graduation ceremony commemorating your admittance...well, sorry to disappoint.”

  Laura smiled. “No, I just wasn’t expecting this level of casualness. I thought there would be some sort of structure or rigidity that new recruits would be put through.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Not here, sorry. Mind you, there is structure: rules, training, ranks, the whole package. It’s just eased into and goes at the pace the person’s comfortable with. People that are new recruits start as ‘acolytes’, a fancy term we like to use for the rookies. They receive instruction and training from a full-fledged Legion member
—their sponsor, so to speak.”

  “My dad is the one that’s training me,” Alex informed Laura.

  “Training... And by training, do you mean that thing you guys do where you turn your hand into a firearm, in the most literal sense of the term?”

  Bruce grinned. “Yeah, that could be part of it. But that’s quite a ways down the road for Alex. I’m sure Varick wouldn’t mind being your sponsor and showing you the ropes.”

  Laura turned to Varick. “How about it, John? You want to be my sponsor?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Laura and Bruce answered in unison with a resounding ‘No’. Laura extended her hand. “Let’s make it official now, John.”

  Varick sighed and a faint smile crossed his face, despite himself. He shook Laura’s hand. “Welcome to the Legion.”

  ***

  Chapter 18 – For the Greater Good

  Everyone was gunning for Scorcher now. Santos had brought the issue of Uecker’s death to the table. As stones were unturned, it was confirmed beyond a doubt that the murder was initiated by Scorcher’s camp. Varick had received the information from his snitch Billy, who had been doing the digging. The person to actually pull the trigger was unknown, but was unanimously decided as irrelevant. They weren’t going to try and search out one gunman; they were going to ‘shut down the whole goddamn thing’, as Varick aptly put it. And the key to do that was Scorcher. With this resolve in mind, they redoubled their efforts to dismantle Scorcher’s operation. And they weren’t the only ones.

  The coalition between Jack Solly and Spike Luxembourg was formidable, and Solly was on the warpath. His finances were in shambles, and he was burning through all of his rainy day funds to pay for his war against Scorcher. It was do or die. Luxembourg was taking point, defending the home front from retaliation. The noose around Scorcher’s neck was tightening, but his neck was very, very thick...

  ***

  Thursday, December 2nd, 1999

  As the days grew colder, the first snowfall hit New York, and it was a big one. Alex Kasparov trudged through a snowfield to get to the main road. He was walking towards the bus stop after a long day of school. He hadn’t started prepping for end of term exams yet, but the assignments kept him in line. A sharp gust of wind pierced him through the gap where his coat and neck met. He tightened his collar. They’re worried about my safety, yet I have to take public transit. Just imagining having a car to drive home in warmed Alex up. It was a good ten-minute walk from school to the bus stop. But there was one other thing that was helping to lift his spirits. This morning, his dad had told him that he had been called down to Fort Bragg in North Carolina, where he was planning to spend the weekend. And as good fortune would have it, he, Alex, was invited to tag along for the trip. To Alex, this meant warmer weather and a chance to tour the military grounds with his father. Being allowed to miss school on Friday was the cherry on his weekend sundae. He knew he could easily make up whatever work he missed. Frankly put, there was nothing important happening on Friday anyway. Some days, it just didn’t pay to go to school.

  As Alex walked along the sidewalk mulling over his thoughts, he was unaware that Wyatt and Cole, two grunts in Scorcher’s employment, had been following him from the moment he stepped foot off the school grounds. They kept a safe distance from their target as to not arouse suspicion, but always kept Alex in their line of sight. Both men were armed with guns.

  Alex turned a corner and the two men quickened their pace. Suddenly, a leg kicked out in front of Wyatt and Cole—onto the brick wall, blocking their path. There was a third man following Alex.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Wyatt spat.

  “I couldn’t help but notice that you were following my friend. What business do you have with him?” The third man was quite young. He was in his late twenties, had dark hair, and wore a black leather jacket. This man’s name was Gabriel.

  Wyatt exchanged a glance with Cole, then laughed at the audacity of the man standing before him. “I got nothing to say to you about Kasparov’s boy. Now get your leg out of my way before I break it.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Sorry, can’t do it.” People walked around them awkwardly, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

  “You’ll regret that decision!” Wyatt chopped at Gabriel’s leg, as if it were a wooden board laid out to test a disciple of karate. Gabriel moved his leg, the instant before contact.

  Cole attacked next and attempted to slug him in the face. Gabriel caught him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. Cole yelled out in pain. “Who the hell are you?!”

  “Name’s Gabriel.” He pushed Cole into Wyatt.

  They both stared back at him, fuming. “You’re with the Legion, aren’t you!?” Cole shouted.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Think of me like a guardian angel. Kasparov’s boy is off limits.” He looked at them sternly. “I suggest you both turn around and walk away.”

  Wyatt sneered. “The angel Gabriel—cute. Give my regards to God when you see him.” He reached into his coat. Gabriel lunged and sent a fist straight into Wyatt’s face, before he could draw his gun. He was knocked flat on his back and was out cold. Simultaneously, Cole attacked from Gabriel’s blind spot and caught a roundhouse to the temple. He smashed nose-first into the brick wall, where he slid down, limp, and gently crumpled onto the sidewalk.

  Gabriel hastily went through their coats and confiscated both of their pieces. He looked around at the gawking bystanders. “Someone want to call the cops on these two? I got a bus to catch.”

  ***

  The Seaberg Lounge, Queens, 7:00 p.m.

  Oswalt Fletcher waited at a table by himself inside the lounge. Jack Solly had requested a meeting. For the last few weeks, Oswalt had been doing exactly what Solly had initially brought him on for: getting information and using police resources to systematically shut down Scorcher’s empire. He was still a bit apprehensive but, for the most part, found it unlikely that Solly or his men would silence him—he’d been doing too damn good a job. Their doubts about his loyalty had subsided considerably. Even Captain Morring had taken note of Fletcher’s work—how the new guy in their precinct was making busts that even the senior officers couldn’t manage...

  Oswalt carefully picked up his drink with his right hand and made an effort to put the glass to his lips—he was shaky, but he managed it. His cast had been removed a few weeks ago, but his arm movements were still stiff.

  Mark Solly gave a loud whistle from down the hallway. Oswalt looked up to see Mark signalling him to come forward—Jack was ready for him. The two men walked to the back of the club and entered the storeroom. Jack Solly, Lucas, and another grunt were present beside a man tied to a chair. He sported a heavily bruised face.

  Oswalt scratched his nose absentmindedly. “Should I expect to be treated to a man tied up every time I’m back here?”

  “If you’re into that sort of thing, we can have it arranged,” Mark replied.

  Jack scowled at the two of them. “Shut up, you idiots.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Oswalt. “We’ve run through a slew of Scorcher’s men and destroyed several of his establishments. And yet, I still do not have my bearer bonds back in my possession. Do you know that, Oswalt? They stole millions upon millions from me.”

  Oswalt shook his head. “This is the first time I’m hearing about any bearer bonds.”

  Jack snapped his fingers and pointed at the man tied to the chair. “Hold him up—let Oswalt have a good look at him.” Lucas grabbed the man by his thinning hair and jerked his head up. The man grunted in pain. Jack pointed at his prisoner. “You know who that is, Oswalt?”

  Oswalt stared. His face was unrecognizable with the bruises. “No idea.”

  “That’s Samuel Turly.”

  Oswalt’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, you got him?”

  “That’s right. It took a lot of digging and combing, but I have my methods. We managed to lure him out to bring him he
re today. Of course, I have you to thank, Oswalt, for even bringing his presence in the city to my attention.” Jack stared grimly at his prisoner. “You know what I want, Turly. The rat... Tell me who the rat is and your suffering can end.”

  Turly stared back at Jack with a dark smile. “When I see you in hell...every grievance you’ve inflicted upon me...I’ll be sure to pay you back tenfold.”

  Lucas punched Turly in the gut. “He’s not going to talk.”

  Jack Solly nodded. “You know, I don’t even care who the snitch is anymore. Zerneck still hasn’t shown his face around here. It was either Brody or Wells, and that’s good enough for me.” In his mind, Oswalt breathed a sigh of relief. Solly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a single black leather glove. He carefully wore it over his right hand. “But...I still want to know one thing...” He extended his arm. The grunt placed a roughly hewn wooden billy club into his gloved hand. Solly’s eyes glowed with fire. He then proceeded to repeatedly smash the club across Turly’s face. “Where—are—my—BEARER BONDS!” He paused between each word to get a club in. Turly grimaced and spit out a stream of blood onto Solly’s light-grey suit. Solly smashed the club one more time across his face for his impudence, then dropped the weapon onto the floor. “This piece of shit...” Solly sighed. He removed the glove, shook it sharply, then returned it to his inner jacket pocket. “You’re right, Lucas—he’s not going to talk.” Jack Solly pointed at the grunt. The grunt drew a pistol and fixed a silencer onto it. He held the gun in front of Oswalt for him to take. “Consider this a final test, Oswalt—of your loyalty. This is a bigwig in Scorcher’s hierarchy. If you can do this, any lingering suspicions I have of you being a double agent for Scorcher will be erased.”

  Oswalt took the gun. The Solly family watched Oswalt closely. Mark wore a smirk on his face. “Déjà vu, huh, Oswalt?”

  Oswalt raised the gun in line with his target. This has to happen... There’s no room for hesitation. Oswalt looked Turly dead in the eyes. Turly nodded to Oswalt, as if welcoming death. “You’ve done a lot of heinous shit in your lifetime, Turly. I have no sympathy for scum.” And without another second thought, Oswalt fired three shots aimed at Turly’s heart. Turly gasped as his body jerked from the bullet impacts. Still being tied to the chair, his body couldn’t keel over onto the floor. His head tilted down, and he became lifeless.