Sheryl saw Malik enter and ended her phone conversation immediately.
“Sit down, Malik,” she said, gesturing to the chair before her mahogany desk.
“Thanks for seeing me, Sheryl,” Malik said.
“So there’s no changing your mind?”
Malik shook his head. “No, Sheryl. I need to do this.”
Sheryl leaned back in her chair. “Need to?”
“Don’t try any psycho-talk on me today,” Malik warned. “I’m quitting, effective today.”
“She must be something.”
Malik took the picture from his jacket and placed it on Sheryl’s desk. “They are.”
Sheryl picked up the picture and smiled. “You’ll make a fine family.”
They stood together as if on cue and shook hands.
“When does your flight leave?”
“This afternoon.”
“You’ll be missed, Malik. You’re the best.”
Malik shook Sheryl’s hand. “Thanks for everything, Sheryl. I won’t forget it.”
Malik left the NSA building for the last time. He was heading to Atlanta to start a new life, a real life. The deception and killing was done. He had no regrets. He was in a cab heading for Ronald Reagan Airport when his Android buzzed. He looked at the message and grinned.
How long does it take to quit a job? Longer than it takes to get fired from one, LOL!
His phone chimed and he answered.
“What’s up, Bryce?”
“Nutten, bruh. When you comin’?”
He must be at home, Malik thought. Bryce always fell into patois when he was relaxed.
“My flight leaves at 1:10.”
“Good. I’ll meet you there. We’ll go to the Patty Hut and get some good food in you. There’s a new sister working there that will give you a righteous welcome home if you talk to her right.”
Same old Bryce. “Got to pass, St. George. My ladies are waiting on me.”
“So?”
Malik laughed. Bryce never gave up.
“So, I can’t. I’m engaged, man!”
“All the more reason, my brother. Your days are numbered!”
“I tell you what; we’ll hook up tomorrow, okay? But no women for me.”
“Cool, bruh. Tomorrow, at Two Urban Licks. Peace.”
Bryce sat down his iPhone and focused on his desktop screen. The files were almost done uploading. If they contained a fraction of what he glimpsed in Leonard’s office he had hit the jackpot. His project needed some enhancing and the new data could be the perfect addition.
The computer chimed. Bryce hit enter and the contents of the file were revealed. His cool countenance dissipated as the data emerged before him.
“Either I hit the lottery, or I’m in serious trouble,” he whispered.
He picked up his phone and speed-dialed Kandace.
“What?” she answered.
“Meet me at the lab, Kitty. I got something to show you.”
“I can’t. I’m at work, and I told you to stop calling me Kitty.”
“Fake sick or something. You really want to see this.”
“I’ll stop by at lunch. It better be good.”
Bryce smiled as the sequences danced on his screen. “It’s lovely, Kitty. Really, it is.”
***
Leonard was cleaning out his desk when the black Infiniti FX45 eased into the Gentech parking lot. He looked up, watching the occupants exit from the vehicle as sweat formed on his forehead. He had made the announcement earlier that morning to his employees then stood silently as they reacted. Some cried, others cursed him out, while some just shrugged and asked for their severance. Bryce didn’t show; Leonard shuddered when he thought of what had happened to him.
The four men entered the building. One man was tall and pale, his fading red hair flecked with gray. He looked about with piercing green eyes that finally settled on Leonard. The other three were dressed identically, long black wool coats with black hats and shades, their faces obscured by their turned up collars, their hands covered by black leather gloves. They walked with a fluid grace that reminded Leonard of the dancers at the Atlanta Ballet. They studied everything in the office but seemed uninterested in Leonard.
They entered his office. The red-headed man took off his gloves and extended his hand, his expression cold, despite his smile.
“Leonard? I’m Leif Thorvaldsen. I’m from Vanguard.”
Leonard shook Leif’s hand; the appendage was as cold as his face.
“Hello Mr. Thorvaldsen. You came sooner than I expected.”
“Time is of the essence, Leonard. I suspect the dismissals went well?”
“As well as something like that could go.”
“Any takers to relocate?”
Leonard scowled. “No.”
“And Mr. St. George?”
“What about him?”
Thorvaldsen’s expression shifted to serious. “Was he here?”
Leonard looked puzzled. “I thought you…”
“No. We didn’t. The address you gave us led to an empty warehouse.”
Leonard detected the implication in Thorvaldsen’s voice.
“That’s the address he gave on his application. It’s the only one I have.”
Thorvaldsen tilted his head and the other men moved closer to Leonard.
“Bryce has worked for you, how long, five years and you never checked him out?”
Leonard became defiant to hide his fear. “The man did his job; damn well, I might add. I had no reason to doubt his credentials.”
“I see. Where is his office?”
Leonard led them to Bryce’s office. Thorvaldsen’s companions scoured it, examining every part and piece. Leonard wasn’t sure, but it looked like they smelled the personal items. The men finally finished, then returned to Leonard’s office.
“It seems your man Bryce is into more than just genetics,” Thorvaldsen said.
He reached into the coat and extracted plane tickets.
“All the arrangements have been made. We expect you to be out of the country by midnight.”
Leonard took the tickets. “Thank you.”
“And I’ll need the employee files.”
Leonard was stunned. “Why?”
“That’s none of your concern.” Thorvaldsen nodded and his companions quickly dismantled Leonard’s computer.
“Enjoy Brazil, Leonard.”
Thorvaldsen and his men left the office, climbed into the Infiniti and sped away. Leonard dropped his head and closed his eyes.
“God forgive me,” he whispered.
Three
Bryce stepped out of the cab in front of the Vortex Bar and Grill at Little Five Points, the usual lunch spot for him and Kandace. He trotted through the cold air into the gaping mouth of the skull entrance, finding himself among Atlanta’s fringe culture and the best burgers in the city. Kandace waited for him at their table, ponytails sticking out from the sides of her head, with loud red lipstick announcing her full lips. Her mocha legs extended from beneath the table, her manicured feet wrapped in a pair of knee high leather platform boots. Her black skirt was so short it seemed she wore nothing below her tight black jacket.
“Still rocking the punk look I see,” Bryce commented.
“You like it,” she purred. She leaned toward him as he sat and they kissed. They were friends with benefits, as some like to say.
Kandace’s face became serious. “Now show me what you got. I don’t have a lot of time.”
Bryce took out his netbook, logged in, then slid it across the table. Kandace took one look at the screen and whistled.
“Damn, boy!” she exclaimed. “You are in so much trouble!”
Bryce leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “No, I’m not. Leonard won’t touch me. He fires me and Gentech folds. I’m the Ace of Spades at that place.”
Kandace peeked up from the screen. “I bet you didn’t go to work today, did you?”
Bryce smiled a
nd shook his head.
“Damn fool.” Kandace pushed the laptop back. “What are we going to do with all this?”
“I figure we can enhance Ghost with it. Tweak it a bit.”
“Some of this stuff looks promising. You going out tonight?”
Bryce frowned. “Got to. Funds are getting low.”
A waiter came by but Kandace waved him away. “I can’t believe you. You make six figures and you still can’t keep a dollar.”
“I’m living life, baby. I didn’t hear you complaining when we went to Shanghai last month.”
Kandace smiled. “Yeah, that was fun.”
She looked at her watch. “Shit! I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”
She stood and Bryce’s eyes got big. “Damn! I see you now!”
“Kiss my ass!”
“With pleasure.”
As Kandace walked out the Vortex, a black Infiniti FX45 cruised by. Four men were distracted by her briefly then refocused on their task.
“Are you sure he’s here?” Leif asked.
His companions nodded in unison.
“Too many people. We’ll pick him up tonight.”
The FX45 sped away, merging into the lunchtime traffic.
Four
Some habits are hard to break, especially the ones that have saved a life. Malik sensed the exact angle the Delta 727 took as it made its final approach to Hartsfield/Jackson International Airport. He knew where all the exits were located, the number of people on the flight sorted in his mind by sex, gender, age, nationality and sexual orientation. He noted the location of the Homeland security marshals and the other undercover agents on the flight. Most of all, he noted that he was coming home.
His mind shifted from deep cover mode as landing gear met tarmac. Atlanta had always been a haven for him, a stop between assignments. Here he was an international businessman with a comfortable home in the Sugarloaf subdivision, surrounded by other successful professionals. His neighbors never came calling and he never complained, using his time to rest, heal and review his next mission. That all ended one fall Saturday morning when he decided to take a run and found himself stride for stride with a lovely divorced lawyer that changed his life.
Malik jumped from his seat the moment the plane parked at the A gate. He grabbed his overnight bag from the overhead bin and pushed his way through the other passengers, ignoring their silent and vocal complaints. He was on the train in minutes, a smile growing wider on his face with every second. By the time he stepped off the escalator at the main terminal he was practically giddy. His ladies were waiting, Kelly and Michelle holding a lime green sign with the words ‘Welcome Home, Daddy!’ scribbled in red marker. Tisha stood behind them, her welcoming smile and sparking eyes letting him know that this was all real.
“Hey queens!” he exclaimed. The girls dropped the sign and rushed him. He scooped them up into his arms and they assaulted his cheeks with kisses.
“Hey, Daddy!” they shrieked.
Tisha picked up the sign and sauntered to them. He leaned to her and they kissed lightly for the sake of the girls.
“Hey, baby,” she said. “You really did it.”
Malik smiled. “I told you I would.”
Tears welled in Tisha’s eyes. “Come on, let’s go home.”
So this was normal life. He had a beautiful wife, two gorgeous daughters, and a well-paying government job with liberal holiday time. There were no covert missions, no life threatening dilemmas and no close calls. So when his cell phone buzzed and he saw it was Sheryl, he almost jumped for joy.
Tisha looked up from her book.
“Who is it, baby? Bryce?”
“No. It’s Sheryl,” Malik said with a frown.
Tisha rolled her eyes.
“I thought I was retired,” he said.
Sheryl laughed. “You are. How’s peacetime treating you?”
“Can’t complain. What’s going on?”
“Bryce St. George. You know him?”
Malik lost his smile. “I do.”
“Our agency received a report on him. Seems he’s involved in a situation that may have national security implications.”
“Bryce? I doubt that. He’s not perfect but he’s not a spy.”
“I didn’t say spy. When was the last time you two talked?”
“A few days ago.”
Malik hesitated asking the next question. He knew the answer could draw him back into his old life.
“What do you have, Sheryl?”
“I can’t tell you, Malik. You don’t work for us anymore.”
“So why did you call me?”
“No reason; just thought you’d like to know. You take care, Malik. Tell Tisha I said hello.”
Sheryl hung up. Malik stared at the phone. Sheryl was trying to lure him back. This must be a deep one, one that required his expertise. He glanced upward, thinking about the ladies whose life he was a part of now. He put the phone in his pocket. He’d do a little digging and call Sheryl if he discovered something. He’d begin by calling Bryce.
Five
Bryce ordered two Spanish Fly burger plates and a large Coke. He had to fill up if he was going out with Ghost. His funds were extremely low which meant his night run would be longer than usual. The waitress smiled, working her hips as she left his table. She wasn’t his type, but apparently she thought she was. The punk look only worked for him when Kandace wore it; she was so fine she would look good in a potato sack.
He stuffed down the meals then leaned back in his seat, unbuckling his belt. He called the office but got no answer. That was odd; Lenny was always at his desk and always took his calls. He shrugged it off and texted Malik. Malik didn’t respond; he was probably with his ‘queens’ practicing fatherhood and married life. The boy was truly in love. He got that dumb look whenever he talked about Tisha and he took to the twins as if they were his own. Bryce was jealous; he’d had plenty of women, but none that made him consider settling down. He was a good time to them as they were to him. They desired him, but they didn’t care about him. Well, Kandace did, but she was different.
He ordered a Steakhouse Burger to go. The waitress brought him his receipt and her number; the receipt he kept, the number he tossed as soon as he stepped outside. He caught the MARTA to Clairmont Road then transferred to the GRTA shuttle to Gwinnet County. He got off at Gwinnet Place Mall; he could walk to the hotel from there. Kandace gave him the key and the room’s number a couple of weeks ago. She rented the room for a month as always. Inside was the usual set up. He went into the bathroom, closed and locked the door. The Skin floated in the nutrient filled tub, a thin, translucent wonder of genetic biotechnology. Bryce stripped naked then slipped on the suit. He waited as the loose material tightened, pressing against him like a second skin. The tingling swept his body as the contacts pierced his flesh in a million places, connecting to his blood vessels and nerve endings. He walked to the bed as the tingling subsided, pulling back the sheets to find the tablet. Kandace had updated the blotter. There was a suspected drug house only a few blocks away.
“Perfect,” Bryce said. “This shouldn’t take long.”
He opened the desk drawer and took out the loot bag. The Skin activated and he watched as his hand and the bag disappeared. By the time he reached the mirror he was completely invisible.
“Showtime.”Bryce looked out the window, then slipped outside. He was cold but not extremely so; the Skin adjusted to the temperature by increasing its flesh to fat ratio. He boarded the bus, standing between the unsuspecting passengers with a smile on his face. He wondered how they would react if the Skin failed and a naked man suddenly appeared between them. The bus reached his stop, the entrance to a neat middle class neighborhood. The Mexican drug boys were hiding their stashes in rented homes close to the interstate these days. The police were onto the scheme but it was still difficult to spot the weed among the flowers. Bryce strolled by the stake out car, walked up to the non-descript two story house, then went aroun
d to the back. He was climbing over the fence when a patch of grass lifted and two men emerged. This was even better; the house was a decoy. The real stash was underground.
Bryce slipped into the hidden chamber before the men closed it. It was well lit; he bypassed the stacks of bagged meth and weed and went straight for the money. He opened his loot bag, filling it with money. He wasn’t greedy; it would take them a while to notice, and when they did, they would blame each other. He closed his bag and waited. The men returned an hour later, grabbed a few bags of money and left. Bryce left with them. He followed them to the undercover stake out car across the street from the house. The officers rolled down the window and took the money. So much for law enforcement.
Bryce hit two more drug houses before calling it a day. He went back to the hotel and stripped off the Skin. He transferred the money into a backpack and caught a taxi back to his condo. His phone rang while he cruised down I-85.
“Speak,” he said.
“Bryce, it’s Briana.”
Bryce grinned. “What’s up, baby girl?”
“Something’s wrong. I went into work late today and everything was gone.”
Bryce’s smile faded. “What do you mean ‘gone?’“
“I mean gone, empty. No desks, no lab equipment, no computers, nothing.”
“Somebody broke in?”
“No, Bryce. Everything was moved. I tried to contact Leonard but his phone is disconnected. Bryce, I’m scared.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the lobby at your place.”
Bryce took the phone away from his mouth to curse. “Look, stay right there. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Okay, Bryce. I’ll wait for you.”
Bryce tapped the window between him and the driver. The driver peered at him through the rearview mirror.
“What?”
“Change of plans,” Bryce said. “I need you to take me to the airport.”
The cabby frowned. “I thought you said…”
“Just do it, okay?” Bryce texted Kandace, leaving her a message worked out between them a long time ago. GET GONE, it read.
Bryce sunk into his seat. The good thing was over. It was time to go home.
Bryce had just closed his phone when the taxi jerked right.
“Where the hell did you learn to drive?” he shouted.
Black Power- The Superhero Anthology Page 7
