by Louis Scott
It was only moments later until the door lock twisted, and Voodoo appeared. He was slow to rise from the cozy sofa as his body ached from earlier, but he was happy to see her.
“Hi, baby.” Krystal’s green eyes sparkled—she set a bag next to the coatrack and jumped into Pike’s arms. “Had to stop and pick up a few supplies. You know for later.”
Her dimpled cheeks indented with a suggestive hint and wink. He glanced at the bag and saw the grocery store’s imprinted name. Anger at Bonny passed quickly as he dismissed her devious lie about Voodoo and Lawless.
“Ahh, you were at the grocery store.”
“Yeah, where’d you think I went?” Voodoo asked.
“Nowhere. It’s just that…”
“Bonny?” Voodoo tightened her smile into a grimace.
“What’s with Bonny anyways?” He asked.
“She’s special—a shift wife.” Voodoo replied.
“What?” Pike blanked.
“Fats—she’s his shift wife. You know, they’re together while he’s on duty. When he ain’t, he’s with his wife and family,” Voodoo whispered and then motioned for him to follow her into the bedroom.
“That you, Laveau?” Bonny yelled.
“Yeah, Bonny. You can put your dress back on. Fats will be here soon.” She set her straight.
“I’ve never heard that term.”
“Where you been, hero?”
Pike stood over her and got lost in her eyes. He noticed she bit her lip as she smiled, but oh, those mesmerizing eyes told the story. Thoughts zipped, stirring his paranoia but he tried not to ask. His breath became labored—he had to know.
“So are you Lawless Boudreaux’s shift wife?”
She turned from his grip but said nothing. Voodoo fell onto her plush mattress—the unmade covers bounced around her feet and thighs. His heart hurt. It was stupid to show vulnerability to a woman. His policy was the best practice—never get attached. He sucked in the sweet aroma of fresh lilacs from a nightstand vase. He smiled, and extended his open hand.
“I understand, Krystal.” His head hung low.
“What is it that you think you understand, Dwight David Harriman?” She stuffed three pillows together and leaned back. The way her long one-sided strands of soft hair parted behind her ear drove him crazy. Her smile awaited his response.
“You and Lawless—I just pop into town and can’t expect you to drop everything for me. Officially, I’m here on a mission. Once it’s done, I’m out.” Pike’s voice rasped with bittersweet sorrow and honest concern. Honor was his creed.
“Please shut up and sit next to me,” Her hands slid across the comforter.
“I’d love to more than anything, Laveau, but you’re in a relationship, and I won’t interfere. I’ve thought of only you since we first met—but I can’t keep chasing you like you said, a love struck pup.” Pike felt uneasy with the words that fell from his mouth. They were foreign, usually spoken by others—not him. The discomfort felt good though, accompanied, as it was, by peace.
She eased up, looked deep into his eyes and slipped her palms inside each of his. Pike’s chest filled with heaviness. He closed his eyes consuming the feeling of her touch. He hadn’t the heart to end the moment—love had come then vanished as intensely as he’d ever imagined an unfair fate could. His lips parted, but nothing was spoken.
“It’s you, Pike. From the moment I first met you, until the time I booted your preppy butt at SWAT training, it was you. I was afraid you’d leave just like you did after that last mission, so I acted like a brat. Truth is, I don’t care, I’m going to open myself to you and trust whatever happens next.” She squeezed his palms. Her smooth dark skin and warm eyes framed a sweet smile.
Pike exhaled at her confession. He’d overlook her avoidance of explaining the relationship with Lawless if she said it was in the past. He then inhaled the promise of a new life—a wonderful adventure with this beautiful woman. He leaned to kiss her, but stopped. It was his cell phone again.
“You sure you ain’t married?” Voodoo smirked with an unenthusiastic glare.
“I don’t care, about the phone.” Pike lowered to kneel between her legs.
She sat up from the comfort of her bed, and leaned into him. The kiss was as electric and as full of emotion as was the first time they’d ever kissed. Time faded between the two occasions and for once, Pike thought of only her. Work didn’t matter, his past wasn’t haunting him, and having lost his edge wasn’t worrying him. He was becoming someone new—someone better, and she was a big part of that.
“Nice kiss, hero, but your cell phone is going crazy again.” Bonny stood in the doorway complaining. “You sure you ain’t married?”
Back in her sequined lavender gown, Bonny held the phone and refused to surrender it until Pike actually got out of bed to get it.
What a tease.
Chapter Fourteen
Bonny tossed the cell phone on Voodoo’s bed. She looked unimpressed with yet another interruption from Pike’s boss. He assumed she still doubted that he wasn’t married, but he had nothing to prove to her. He took the cell and smiled as he closed the door in her face.
Late afternoon light beamed through the bedroom window blinds. Voodoo’s room was a rare place Pike felt at ease—except when Bonny barged in. He yanked a piece of paper and an ink pen out of his pocket as pressed the phone with his shoulder against his ear.
“Hi, Alex.”
“Pike, back to tricks?” Jonas said in the background. Alex’s number two agent was in on the call from the FORCE conference room’s speakerphone.
“Not now, Jonas. Gotta be somewhere soon.” He slipped his hand over Krystal’s hand and smiled as she snuggled close against his relaxed frame.
“Alex will be in soon, but I know you’ve got to check in at the Sheraton on Canal Street soon. Let’s get started with the declassified version.” Jonas suggested.
“Sounds good, my brother.”
“Why don’t you put me on speakerphone so your friend can hear. She’s involved too and the heavy breathing in my ear is driving me wild.” Jonas laughed. He held a much more relaxed briefing than Alex did. She was only and all business.
Pike shrugged and looked at her while making a signal with his hand to talk. She nodded yes.
“Jonas, this is Krystal Laveau, aka, Voodoo. Voodoo, this is Jonas West. He’s second in command at FORCE. Former Delta and all-around office warrior.” Pike laughed.
“Pleasure is mine, ma’am. Okay, time is wasting and this is going down fast. From what the FBI is picking up on their wires there are three teams of mixed gender assassins involved. Have y’all met the others?” Jonas spoke quick, but confident and clear.
“No, we’ve not a clue.” Voodoo spoke up, head craned forward toward the cell. She either didn’t comprehend the severity or was a cool customer under fire.
“The teams are being kept secret just in case one goes rogue, or rats out. Everyone checks into the Sheraton at various assigned times. I’m guessing your time is nineteen hundred hours.” Jonas said.
“Why’s that?” Pike asked.
“Cause your team’s code name is “Thousand Yard.” I assume it’s because you ripped off the long shot to secure a place on the team. There’s a five-fifty and team two-hundred.” Jonas didn’t need confirmation that he was correct.
“Hi, Team.” Alex called out over the open line.
“Hi, Alex.”
“Pike, you and Voodoo will be given instructions once you ask for your hotel key. They have a tuxedo and gown waiting. From what I understand, people attending these tableaus wear masks too. Should be fun. Your goal is to mingle and identify who the king of carnival is—Rex.” Jonas continued.
“Seriously? This whole thing is about figuring out who a parade grand marshal is?” Voodoo spouted.
“No darling,” Alex snapped into the phone. “The Carvaka want Rex eliminated. It’s an assassination at the world’s biggest party. The Serpent’s goal was to create chao
s exacted through fear, a typical terrorist tactic. You make people afraid in their everyday lives, fearful to participate in their customs and culture, and you break their will. They seek solutions other than the ones who’ve failed to shield them. The Serpent thought he’d rise from the ashes of social catastrophe to lead the people disillusioned by government.” Alex recited from many repeats.
“You spoke of the Serpent in past tense. What happened to him?” Voodoo asked.
“I killed him.” Alex stated coldly. There was no need to reply.
Pike jumped in.
“Who’s Rougarou? Those idiots at the audition said his name with such reverence. He’s gotta hold juice,” Pike said.
“That’s a new one, hold on and let me hammer it into the system.” Keyboard bashing was another one of Jonas’s specialties. “Oh, this might be an issue.”
“Pike, let us call you back.” Alex’s voice quivered as he heard her rustling in her chair. Her breaths sounded hitched in her chest as she whispered to Jonas.
“Alex, don’t you dare disconnect this line.” Pike no longer spoke like the playboy, good-willed gofer. He’d reclaimed the man he once was—back before he allowed JW Colt to run his family scampering into WitSec protection. There’d be time for retaliation—today wasn’t that time.
“We deserve to know what we’re walking into,” Pike demanded.
“Rougarou’s got a blue star next to his name.” Alex said softly.
Pike’s wind rapidly left his sails. “I’ve never actually seen one of those before.”
“What going on?” Voodoo implored.
“Never to speak of,” Jonas warned. “I’d have to assume you’d realize it if you find yourself in his presence. Just be careful.”
“I want to know. You got Pike’s face drained white as snow, and this hero don’t wilt. Tell me about the blue star.” Voodoo was adamant.
Pike rolled away and shook his head. He pressed his index finger to his lips as his eyes pleaded to drop it.
“Well, since that’s settled… Jonas, once in my monkey suit, what’ll we do?” Pike’s tone had changed, but he was still in the game to win.
“Other than tell Ms. Laveau how gorgeous she is in her gown?” Jonas tried to smooth talk, or at least spin the topic one hundred and eighty degrees. “Mingle and get to know the hotel’s layout. Teams will be assigned one of three potential kill locations. Thanks to your shot they can’t stop bragging about over the wiretaps, you get the long eyes. Not sure which building, but you’ll be offsite. Another team will try hitting Rex as he exits in the morning for the parade, and the other team is somewhere just off ground level along the parade route.” Jonas said.
“Great, so when does FORCE swoop in to take out the other teams?” Pike asked.
“Sorry, big guy, you know the answer to that.” Jonas said apologetically. He let the call sit silent.
Voodoo's forehead furrowed, but Pike had nothing to say.
“Alex, you know how I feel about this. You going to place lots of lives in danger once this hit breaks loose. And for what? Plastic Mardi Gras beads?” Pike squeezed Voodoo’s hand.
“Don’t you think I’m sick about it?” Alex said flatly, “But my hands are tied under Senatorial threat of imprisonment for treason.”
“Pike, we’ve reached out to an operative I’m sure you’ve met, and Voodoo is familiar with. He’s done contract work with us, and is a high-value asset—Lawless Boudreaux.”
Jonas’s words were a dagger.
He and Voodoo glared at each other.
“Go on.” Pike said through dry lips.
“We’ve contacted him and his partner. A U.S. National by the name of Kymani. This guy commands the Violent Crimes Task Force SWAT unit that Voodoo is assigned to full time,” Alex said.
“We know them very well. Both kick butt cops—good call.” Voodoo’s intensity surpassed her experience in these matters.
“Well then, they’ll be direct ground and tactical support. With the exception of the NOPD’s Detective Louis Sharp who’s stuck at a parade traffic point waving cars around a barricade, the entire unit is at our—I mean your—disposal. They’re acting on federal FORCE authority and rules of engagement,” Alex assured them.
“You sure there’s nothing else going on down here?” Pike asked. “The Serpent usually has more than one ball in the air. Straight up identify and kill is rather simple. Actually, if the act of killing Rex is the goal, why does it matter who he is?” Pike had asked the question no one considered. The line went silent—purposefully silent.
“Pike?”
“Yes, Alex?” He answered.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Great question. Let’s start mashing through intel and we’ll get back to you both” Jonas said.
“Will do, we’re about to head to the Sheraton.” Pike’s sense of gotcha didn’t show, but it was there—his smirk illustrated it.
“It doesn’t appear the tableau is going to experience any violence, “Jonas added, “but stay alert. You know how unpredictable these terror cells are. And if you identify the other two kill teams, you know what to do.”
“You saying?” He asked.
“Yes, Pike.” Alex answered authoritatively.
Chapter Fifteen
Pike enjoyed being dressed up, and he looked great in his tuxedo. Had he not been so enamored with Voodoo in her gorgeous ball gown, he might’ve spent more time gawking at himself. They meshed easily while making an entrance into the extravagant Grand Ballroom.
“Hello, and welcome to Rex, the King of Mardi Gras’ tableau.” The attendant curtsied as she handed Pike’s etched invitation back to him.
The wait staff and the New Orleans String Quartet were the only ones in the grand ballroom unmasked. Everyone else was adorned in exquisitely decorated masks.
Pike studied his escort beneath the dancing lights. “Krystal, you look amazing in that gown. They did an incredible job anticipating your size—sheer brilliance.” Pike raised his champagne flute to honor her. The music reached a natural crescendo with the lift of his glass.
“I know this shawl looks too maw-maw, but I had to cover up these tattoos. Dead giveaway.” She tugged at the solid wrap draped over her shoulders.
The simple silk gown draped across her body. Shimmering gold and ivory exchanged places as she moved through the light, “You look elegant.”
His grey silk mask was easier to drink through than Voodoo’s full-face, teal-colored felt mask encrusted with rhinestones and a vibrant peacock’s feather.
Pike had known periods of growing up in an upscale home—brief and often with violent endings but, regardless, he marveled at the magnificent surroundings as two thousand guests mingled beneath a skylight and twenty-foot walls of windows. Italian crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead; catching his attention and serving as a reminder that he wasn’t the boy of privilege his stepparents once manipulated him into believing.
Pike and Voodoo tried to hold hands as they meandered against the crowd’s flow. They had agreed the other kill teams probably weren’t married or familiar with each other beyond working for the fifty thousand dollar payday. Until they identified someone suspicious, they’d try to make conversation with everyone.
An hour passed and they'd received nothing except a text message from Cranston Stone ordering Pike to check his hotel room for location instructions before bed.
“Is that Bonny?” He peeked beneath his mask.
“I’m not sure. You’ve glared at her harder than I ever have.” She nudged him in the ribs—his tuxedo jacket crumpled against his shoulder holster.
“Ever noticed that tattoo on her ankle?”
“Damn, lover boy, how hard you been gawking at my roomie?” Krystal wasn’t amused—her Creole attitude flared. His concern soared.
“It matches Fats’ pinky ring design. A wolf and sickle.” Pike tried to change the topic and her mood.
“It’s time for her to find another place to bunk. All she does is gossip and repe
at what Fats tells her. He must talk plenty while she’s sexing that whale up.” Voodoo’s fingers imitated texting.
Pike snugged his grip over her sleeveless bicep. “He’s my friend.”
“Maybe so, but he gives me the creeps with the deviant stuff he tells Bonny and makes her perform.” She lifted her flute. “Cheers. You asked.”
Pike moved within earshot of the couple—behind a cluster of antique furniture and some well-placed palms. He knew neither would suspect his being there, so he felt emboldened to spy on Fats. His mind raced, picking up broken streams of garbled conversations, trying to fit pieces together. Useless after a bit, he eased through the crowd to reconnect with a giddy Voodoo.
“What ya know, sexy man?” She drew him close to swing with the orchestra.
“Not much.” Pike whispered—his lips close to her ear as they waltzed. “He talked about a ship coming into the Port of New Orleans tomorrow and what a pain in the butt it’ll be with the Rex parade rolling at the same time. She complained because she’d have to miss the parade and wait on the West Bank to catch a ride somewhere. Didn’t really make sense in between her complaining about waking up early.”
Voodoo was anxious to figure out what Bonny’s news meant. The entire evening had been exciting inside the opulence of the Grand Ballroom. She looked so beautiful in the gown—even though it was the Carvaka’s disciples that’d picked it out. Pike wanted to kiss her, and enjoy more of her—much more.
He snarled.
“What, baby?” she asked.
“I want to kiss you but these stupid masks are blocking us,” he snarled again to lighten the tension.
“Settle down, I’ve someone I want you to meet. He’s a Navy SEAL too.” She pointed to three men chatting quietly in a far corner.
"Really? How do you know?"
“We were just saying hi, and he started talking about his missions in the sandbox. Since you told me that meant the Middle East, I knew the lingo, then he said he was a SEAL.”
