Who the fuck is that? And how they hell they know where I am? Edge wondered as she continued to peer down at the vehicle.
Unbeknownst to her, the black Dodge Dart was packed with agents, all equipped with jackets with the FBI initials across their backs. They concealed SMGs under their seats. The driver was Agent McCarthy. At first, when he received the tip that led them to the hotel, he didn’t take it seriously. But when he was told that a female capable of pulling off a triple homicide was connected to the Double Gs’ attorney, the tip became more promising. He and Reddick had chased every other lead that had come across their laps, so one more wouldn’t hurt, he figured.
When he ran an NCIC check on her and saw that she had just been released from prison after having her sentence overturned for murder, the lead piqued McCarthy’s interest even more. But when he discovered that the arresting officers were Blake and Douglass, and the file said to proceed with caution, that made the lead even stronger for him. He rarely believed in coincidences, and he wasn’t going to start now.
After rounding up a strong strike team, he along with the others sat outside her hotel. The tech agent sat in the passenger seat, and they both had headphones pressed firmly on their ears. They were connected to a fat, thigh-burning laptop that possessed a large black box, with a dial that McCarthy repeatedly turned.
“Hold up. I think it’s picking up something,” the tech stated. The device was a mechanism that listened for high and low pitches.
“Do the dishes.”
The more they turned the device, the more voices and conversations it picked up.
“Dave, get that lube out, I’m dry!”
The agents chuckled. Agent McCarthy shushed them. He was serious about this. They had lost enough agents. There’s was nothing to laugh about as far as he was concerned. Since the first news of a fallen fellow agent, it was a nonstop pursuit of the Double Gs for McCarthy. He couldn’t care less if he died following them. Just the thought of them all being caught or killed brought joy to his eyes. He waited and listened as he steadily moved the dial.
Edge’s cell phone vibrated on the side of her hip. Never taking her eyes off of the vehicle, she pulled it out and answered. “Hello?”
No one said anything. There was complete silence.
“Hello? Who this?” she asked.
This time someone responded. “Is this Edge?”
“Who the fuck is this?” Edge snapped.
“Somebody who wanna see you win. The feds are watching your spot, but they don’t know which room you’re in. You still got a chance if you get out now,” the anonymous caller announced.
Edge hung up the phone. The fact that the caller knew somebody was outside of her crib was enough for Edge to take the call seriously. “Shit,” she cursed. The words, “You still got a chance if you get out now,” rang out in Edge’s mind.
Edge backed away from the window and dropped to the floor. She snuck her way into the room and snatched up her money and guns.
“We have the confirmation she’s in there. We can storm the room now!” Agent McCarthy assured everyone.
“Not quite. We still need probable cause,” the tech agent argued.
“She is a murderous, cunt-loving animal; that’s cause enough right there,” Agent Reddick barked.
“Hang on. You hear that?” the tech agent pointed the device in another direction.
“Hear what?” Reddick leaned in. “I don’t hear squat. What the hell are you—”
Agent McCarthy shushed him midsentence. He heard something. The tech agent pointed the black box device toward another direction. They could barely hear through the static.
“Do you know who . . . You can’t do this to me . . . legislator of Nevada!”
The voice was muffled. Every agent in the car was baffled. They looked at each other for a response.
“What the fuck was that?” Agent McCarthy spat.
The tech agent stuck his arms out of the window with the device in hand to get a second helping of the conversation. “Sounded like a distress call,” he answered.
“Tell them . . . uble Gs did it, mu’fuck . . .” The device picked up the broken words of another speaker.
The agents were dumbfounded. Although he didn’t hear it crystal clear, McCarthy would bet his life that whoever was talking was a Double Gs member. “How far away you think that conversation is?” Agent McCarthy asked.
“Could be one or two miles. It’s somewhere in that area,” the tech agent said.
“Well, what the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s find them.” Agent McCarthy commanded. He banged his fist on the dashboard. “Another time,” Agent McCarthy said, looking up at Edge’s hotel before he made a U-turn in the middle of the street.
Edge shimmied her way back into the living room. Carefully standing back up, she peered back out the window. To her surprise, the Dodge Dart was no longer parked where it once sat. Edge looked left, then right. Nothing.
What the hell is going on? she pondered.
Better safe than sorry, Edge grabbed up her duffle bag and exited her apartment. She cautiously made her way into the parking garage and hopped in her whip. She pulled out her phone and pulled up the one person she believed would know what was going on and why. She scrolled down to Diamond’s number and sent her a text before pulling out of the garage.
The black Dodge Dart turned the corner after a pickup truck zoomed past. The truck managed to pass through a red light, though nearly colliding with another car. Although the Dodge Dart was filled with agents, their attention on possible trouble was far more important. The tech agent glanced up to a three-story historical hotel, where only the elite or wealthy resided.
“This has to be the spot,” the tech man said.
“Well, this may be our big ticket. After this, maybe we could get the guns we’ve been asking for,” an agent spat.
Agent McCarthy grabbed hold of his SMG submachine gun. He cocked it back and snapped on his Velcro holster alongside his bulletproof vest. “I wouldn’t bank on it, but let’s stay focused. A man’s life is in jeopardy,” Agent McCarthy said.
All agents were prepared, suited up, and booted up. All but the tech agent. “I’ll sit here, stationary. We don’t all need to die in there,” the tech agent reasoned.
Reddick grabbed hold of him. “Bring your scared ass on. We need somebody to man the device through the halls when the shit hits the fan.”
“You are gladly welcome to leave, and don’t forget your tampons and high heels on the way down,” another agent teased.
The tech agent flashed a fake smile and let out a light chuckle. “Come on, you guys, don’t bust my balls here. I was only joking.”
All of the other agents including McCarthy zeroed in on him.
“Pussy!” another agent spat.
“Okay, that’s enough,” McCarthy said. “Let’s look alive and stay focused.” The last thing he wanted was to lose an agent over carelessness or not being on point.
The agents all tightened up, including the tech agent. He drew his weapon, removed his safety, and cocked it.
Seconds later, like a hive of killer bees, they swarmed into the building. Customers, valet drivers, and chefs were startled by the size of their weapons as they coasted with them through the gold-trimmed white-and-black lobby. The floor was marble. Agent McCarthy glanced down and saw his reflection. The longer he stared, he didn’t see a hero en route to save a victim, but a tortured man who climbed from the depths of hell with scars still on him. The man he was protecting was the devil who put him there in the first place, and he wondered if it was too late to turn around and say fuck it.
“McCarthy, you good? The geek’s saying the signal’s gearing toward up top. You need to hear it,” Reddick said.
McCarthy nodded. Taking a deep breath, he strutted up the stairs alongside the other agents.
He led the way as four agents followed closely like a school of fish. They didn’t know if they were the prey or the hunters. Every corn
er they turned sent chills down their body. The tech agent tagged along a yard away. He had a small .22 pistol in his right hand and the listening device in his other. His headphones were on tight as he aimed the sound device at room doors like a gat.
“Keep up, cumshot!” Reddick spat, careful not to notify who they were looking for.
“You’re gonna get enough of calling me that shit. I swear I’ll—” The tech agent’s comments were cut short by voices he heard. The bed’s mattress was bouncing.
“Spank me, daddy!” the device picked up, followed by moan after grunt.
The tech man turned in a 180-degree angle.
“Where’s my money?” the voice spat.
The tech man gestured the agents to turn around. They all gathered around the door. The tech agent peeled his headphones off of his ears for the voice to be heard by the other agents.
“This is the final straw! I can’t take this shit anymore! The legislator’s fucking—”
That was all the agents needed to hear to spring into action. They all cocked their fresh clips filled with hollow-tip bullets back in their assault weapons and handguns. This was the moment of truth for them.
“You ready?” Reddick spat.
Someone fidgeted with the doorknob. The voice inside switched their tone.
“You hear that shit? Somebody’s fucking with the knob,” the tech agent revealed. The agents pressed their backs against the door hinges.
A flicker of light caught the corner of Agent McCarthy’s eye. He slowly turned his head as a woman came out of nowhere. She held a bag of groceries. Her expensive wristwatch flashed. The moment she caught sight of Agent McCarthy, she took a step back, wide-eyed.
“Please don’t scream,” he said with a gesture of shushing her.
His request went ignored. She did the very opposite. She dropped her bag that held items made of glass, along with milk, eggs, and a few other items. None of it mattered as her bloodcurdling scream rang out. It was one that seemed it could wake a man from the grave. Her sudden cries triggered Reddick’s survival instincts.
Boom. Boom. He turned around as fast as he could and let off two rounds. The hollow tips exploded in the woman’s chest, spreading fragments over her body. Her knit sweater was soiled and stained with blood the second they went through her sterling-silver heart necklace.
The two shots sent her traveling back like a car in reverse as blood flowed from the two bullet entries. Reddick instantly felt sympathy for the innocent civilian woman.
“No, fuck, no! It was an accident I swear! I fucking swear!” Reddick spat.
The opposing agents kicked the door in. The voice behind it belonged to a black man, watching a replay of Rick’s town hall speech. The impact of the door busted his nose.
“Yo, what the fuck did you do?” the man boomed.
Reddick’s eyes were glossy. His skin and eyes matched in color: red. “Shut your mouth!” Reddick spat.
Agent McCarthy watched in disbelief, along with the rest of the agents.
“Nice going, wiseass. What the hell are we going to do now?” the tech man spat. He was the first to speak after an innocent woman was just murdered.
Reddick cuffed the resistant man. “Stop resisting!” Reddick barked.
“I didn’t do nothing. Let me go!” the man barked back. He slid on the ground outside of the door and caught a glimpse of the dead woman. His eyes widened in horror.
“Nooooo! That’s my fucking moms! You damn devils shot my moms!” the man cried.
The agents all looked at each other. They’d fucked up before, but never like this. Eyes from peepholes and the cracks of doors with locking golden chains barricading the entry caught it all from start to finish.
Agent McCarthy grimaced.
The tech agent turned the volume up on his headphones as they all took a long walk of shame. Reddick was still clutching the distressed man.
“Why don’t you just let him go? Let him mourn,” Agent McCarthy spat.
Reddick let him loose. He immediately rushed over to cradle his dead mother. Tears ran down his face like a river.
“You hear that? My team’s here, so I suggest you two thots give up now!” the device picked up.
“Please, I didn’t mean to say that, no, nooo! Okay, I’ll give you whatever you want!” the voice continued, followed by female voices.
“You got that shit right.”
The tech agent was dumbfounded. He stopped. The rest of the agents turned around, locking eyes with him. “I think it’s—”
The tech agent’s sentence was interrupted by Reddick. “Are you stupid? What the hell are you doing?” The sound of police sirens came from outside.
“That’s the right voice. I know it is,” the tech agent spoke, refusing to let the device go.
“Give it a rest already.” Reddick snatched the device from the tech agent. “You want that fucking device? Go get it!” Reddick tossed the device into a corner at the end of the hall. The tech agent went chasing after it. He froze in his tracks when he laid his eyes on two guards dead with a single shot to both their heads.
“What the . . .” the tech agent mumbled. The door was slightly open.
The tech agent grabbed hold of his .22 pistol and gestured for the agents to join him. They all drew their weapons. Agent McCarthy was the first to reach the tech agent and took the lead, as the door swung open. What caught their eye was the Las Vegas, Nevada legislator trapped in a kinky death trap. Sparkle’s and Glitter’s tits were out, and their torsos were laced up with leather. Rick, on the other hand, his dick was bent like a bendy straw, and his face was battered. The entire scene brought a porn from hell to mind.
“Step away from the legislator!” Agent McCarthy barked.
“You better tell them motherfuckas to stand down!” Glitter ordered.
Rick nodded, agreeing to her command.
“You serious?” Agent McCarthy questioned.
“As a bent dick,” Rick responded.
Reddick, tense, paced back and forth.
“Now that we’re all acquainted, you pigs can be witnesses,” Sparkle spoke.
“To what exactly?” Reddick spoke.
Glitter held a light smirk. “Two out of three things are about to happen. One: we’re walking the fuck up outta here. Two: the bill you just passed, we need it un-passed, vetoed, whatever the flying fuck needs to be done,” Glitter uttered in Rick Sinclair’s ear.
Sparkle tossed a sheet over Rick’s bent manhood.
Rick grabbed hold of a pen, signing the document to veto the printed choice. He then directed his attention to the agents in the room.
“I need every law enforcement officer in this goddamn room to lower their weapons, and that’s an order!” Rick spat. Hesitant, every officer in the room lowered their weapons as Sparkle and Glitter closed up shop. They threw on the premium hotel-issued robes after shutting down the camera. And then just like that, they strolled out of the front door.
Agent McCarty couldn’t believe his eyes. What the hell just happened here?
He stood clueless as a high-ranking political figure let two notorious gang members and possible killers walk scot-free in front of him. I need some goddamn answers, McCarthy concluded.
Chapter 29
Monica was swept with heavy thoughts as she packed and stuffed her only luggage. Starr had dropped her off to collect what few belongings she could gather. She made it clear that they were leaving Vegas for a little bit, and Monica didn’t protest. As she packed, images of Prime and the life growing inside of her came to mind. The fact that Starr didn’t kill her proved how strong of a love she had for her, but Monica was not so sure if she’d feel the same if she knew all of the facts.
Relax, girl. She’ll still love you if you tell her you made a mistake falling for Prime and tell her truth about the baby, was what she frequently told herself to keep from running off from Starr. After her near-death experience with her, Monica knew she was capable of doing anything to her if she fel
t some type of way about something. As she ventured to the front door and tugged at the doorknob, she felt an opposing force tugging on the other side as well. Monica was baffled. She yanked at the doorknob again, and the force was released.
She poured into the hallway vigilant of what it could possibly be. Maybe she was just overthinking it. That was her first thought.
As she swayed farther down the hall, the elevator’s ding went off. The doors ripped apart as a cart’s wheels were heard rolling toward her. Monica didn’t pay it any mind as she continued her walk. That was, until a hunting whistle accompanied the rolling cart. It’s familiarity made the hairs on the back of Monica’s neck stand up. The whistling inched up closer, almost as if it was directly behind Monica. Monica couldn’t tell where it was coming from, only that it was close. She turned around, only to see nothing but a cart as she turned to her left. She locked eyes with Starr. Starr stood with her feet planted and a silencer barrel attached tightly to the end of her TEC-9.
Monica already knew what it was. She couldn’t believe her luck. Already expecting the worst, she clutched the wood grip of her chrome custom 1911.
“You know what this is about,” Starr spat.
Monica squinted her eyes. “That’s all it ever was, wasn’t it?” Monica responded.
“I didn’t come for petty chitchat and flawed puns because that time is long past. Time is rolling, business is booming; that shit sound familiar to you?” Starr stated.
Monica gently pulled up on the hammer of her custom 1911 pistol. Starr quickly raised her arm, firing the silencer shots with a skilled arm. Spew spew was the sound Starr’s TEC-9 cried out. Monica fired through her purse, creating a semi-muffled shot. She ducked for cover behind a wall. She noticed her purse now resembled Swiss cheese. “Shit!” she mumbled.
They exchanged gunplay one more time as Starr let out a barrage of bullets diagonally across the wall, just inches above Monica’s head. Starr rushed toward her, hovering the TEC-9 over her. Monica kicked Starr in the knee, causing Starr to duck down and drop her TEC-9. Monica managed to bring her to the ground, hip-driving her into submission. Starr grabbed the butt of the pistol and clocked Monica upside the head like a drum solo. The elevator door peeled open from around the corner. Monica and Starr, grunting and punching on each other, poked their heads around the corner.
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