by James H Roby
A sole gunman gathered his wits enough to turn his weapon on the detectives. Jordan aimed but it wasn’t true – tears still altered his vision. E-Man got off a shot - his years as a sharpshooter guided his aim and he hit the gunman. The impact of the bullet forced the man to drop his weapon. The guy with the scar screamed something and his men broke around the building to the front. They even gathered up the punk E-Man knocked out. A series of door slams and the car sped away. Jordan turned to his friends. They choked and gasped for air. No time for rest, the police were no doubt on their way.
"Let's bounce.” The voice was a whisper.
The van rumbled to life and eased away from the street just as the wail of sirens began to pierce the air. Jordan guided the vehicle around a corner, stopped in a restaurant’s parking lot and turned off the lights. A trio of squad cars zoomed by. Jordan waited until the police were well away before he slowly, casually drove off. A moment later, another cruiser zipped by. When it continued, the UrbanKnights collectively released a sigh of relief.
"Oh, man," Malcolm said, "I can't believe that worked."
Jordan silently agreed. When Don uncovered the forklift, the plan formed in Jordan's mind was a product of blind desperation more than strategy. E-Man employed another skill from his time as a Combat Controller, hot-wired the vehicle and sent it flying. It was a mad gambit. But it worked.
"Yup," Don said, "Now? That's someone's ass."
The men all laughed. The quip wasn’t so funny, but breathing in the sweet nectar of life after near death, somehow made everything humorous.
"That's Kevin Small's ass," Jordan said. "We're going to be on that boy like white on rice."
"Ugly on ape," Don said.
"Gravy on grits," E-Man said.
"Nikes on Mike," Malcolm said.
Jordan rolled his eyes. The nectar of life was impacting his crew a little too much. "Whatever. Malcolm, I want cameras up that bastard's ass. If he picks his nose, I wanna know."
Malcolm said, “Probably would have worded it differently but I feel you. What about illegal proceeding and all that?”
Jordan gripped the steering wheel. His focused gaze zeroing in on some distant point ahead of him. “Somebody just tried to burn up me and my boys. Screw the rules.”
“And this Random guy?" Don asked.
"He'll pop up," Jordan said, "Meanwhile, we'll work this angle. E-Man? Don't you have something for our comrades?"
"Why, yes I do." E-Man reached inside his jacket pocket as Don and Malcolm exchanged puzzled looks. "Here you go, fellas.” He handed Don and Malcolm tickets to the Fashion show he picked up earlier.
"Oh, goody," Malcolm said as he read the ticket. "How bourgeois. I guess we gonna dress up?"
Don shouted, "Hey! They gonna have horse-e- oeuvre! All-right!"
The van hit the Chrysler Freeway and headed back to Detroit.
Chapter Nine: Getting Ready
Cody Random sat perfectly still. On the floor. In the dark, concentrating on his breathing. Typically, he didn’t long suffer fools. Today, he would have to deal with two of them. Behind him, the door squeaked open, sending a thin sliver of light into the room. Slash entered and closed the door, plunging the bedroom back into darkness. Random stood to confront his lieutenant. He was shirtless, bare chested in the heat of the un-air-conditioned structure. It was going to be a hot one in Motown as even at 9:00 a.m., the mercury was reaching for eighty.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” he asked.
Slash’s hands came up. “Now, don’t be like that, boss.”
Random wandered over to what, in a long gone better day, was a three-drawer dresser. He took a white towel off the top and dapped away sweat on his neck. “How should I be?”
Slash mumbled out a series of sounds. He gathered his thoughts and spoke, carefully as to not enrage his boss. “It just kinda happened. I was setting up the trap and, well, Karl started the fire.”
Random had discovered during his time in prison, the benefits of meditation. Negative emotions and energy trapped in his body was just as bad as poison. So, he valued controlled breathing and relaxation techniques because he had a lot of negative emotions and energy. The cause of which was people dumber than him. Which, to his mind, was everyone.
“Karl started the fire,” Random said. “It’s not so much that he brought this undue attention to us, we have more than enough insulation – it’s the fact that I made it perfectly clear, no one was to kill Jordan Noble but me!” His voice rose as he reached his sentence’s end. The trap at Kevin Small’s storage facility was to harass Jordan. A trespassing charge or the like. Not an attempt on his life.
Slash stepped forward, a finger in the air. “In my defense, I told you not to bring in Karl – you know arsonists.”
Whatever maximum allowance for containing negativity Random had was exceeded. Veins seemed to appear around his azure eyes. Teeth bared and were on edge. Slash drew back, deferring personal injury. Just as quickly as it came, the anger vanished. Maybe the meditation was working. Random ran a hand through his wild blond locks.
“Yes,” he said, “you did warn me. In the future, I will give more weight to your input in the selection of crew from the criminal population.”
Slash’s face twisted as if receiving a word of praise from a cold and distant parent. “Well, thank you. That’s all I ask.”
Random nodded. He was sure sarcasm was a foreign concept to Slash. “Now, then. Discipline in the ranks had gone unheeded. Punishment must be meted out.”
Slash smiled and his words slipped out. “I figured you say that. I got Karl outside. Figured you wanna do it.”
Random put his hand on Slash’s shoulder. He shook his head. “No, Slash. This is your arena. You have to take the good with the bad…”
Slash frowned. “Aw, c’mon. I kinda like the guy. You know, for an arsonist.”
Random turned away and strolled to the window with the blinds drawn tight. “Now, now. If you want to be the voice of authority on our staffing, you must take responsibility for their actions.”
Slash scoffed. “Fine. Karl. Karl! Get your ass in here!” The door opened again with the same slice of light and return to darkness when it shut. Karl wore a duster matching Slash’s with a weasel’s face sporting a patchy beard. He flashed a look at Slash, then went to Random to plead his case.
“Mr. Random, hear me out now.” He sounded like he had rocks in his mouth. “I really got a good -”
The rest of his explanation went unheard. Slash stepped next to Karl and drew a Glock 17. He put the gun to Karl’s temple and pulled the trigger. The expected explosion was followed by the wall to Karl’s left literally painted with the contents of his skull. The corpse dropped like a stone.
“Happy?” Slash’s anger was tempered with the regret of losing his comrade. A pair of men burst into the room, weapons drawn. Random held up a hand and the two warily slid out.
“You have done well,” Random said. “Leadership is not always an agreeable course.” He sighed and drew out a cellphone from the white linen pants he wore. “As now, I have to endure a less than desirable task.”
Slash made like a dog – turning his head to one side. Random caught only a glimpse of this, his vision focused on dialing.
“I’m going to have to keep our Mr. Small engaged. I’m sure he’s very upset after your performance from last night.”
~
“Your men missed Noble last night!"
Kevin Small stood in his office at Unlimiteds. The memory of the late-night phone call from the Fire Department fanned the flames of his anger. The staff was abuzz with rumors and gossip. Not what he needed a day before the big show. Now, with all the last-minute preparation, he had Cody Random on his cellphone.
"Calm down," Random said. His words were slow and even. No highs or lows of emotions. "Everything is under control."
"Under control! You burned down my Goddamn building!"
/>
"That was an unfortunate incident, for which I deeply and humbly apologize."
"Jesus, Random." Small leapt from his seat. He went over to the window in his door. Robin was across the quarterdeck making last minute preparations for tonight's function. Her fingers danced a wave.
"You didn't say anything about blowing up my building. This is getting expensive. The cops..."
"Are of no importance. My friend, in three days, you are going to be extremely wealthy. And then you can go and take that Nubian jewel of yours to some tropical island and copulate until she passes out."
Small smiled as a mental picture formed. He wandered in the empty space between his desk and the door, the fantasy growing in detail.
"For now, you must entrust this matter to me," Random said.
"But..."
"No buts!" Random's voice was sterner. "I will handle Noble. Now, I will transfer the sample to you tonight."
"Tonight?" Small peeked out the window. Robin headed for the office. "Are you crazy? There will be hundreds of people there!"
"All the better. We will blend in. Your precious hundreds will not even be aware a deal that will change controlled substances forever has taken place."
Small started to object but held it back. This was not the same Random from last night. He was direct – unmoving. Last night he was completely open to suggestion…of course, the suggestion got his building burnt up.
A few seconds passed before Small spoke again. "OK, but how will I know you?" Pain and embarrassment entered his heart. He was so ready to follow the orders of a man he had never seen before.
"Oh, you'll know me," Random said, “By the way, will your lovely lady friend be accompanying you?"
As if on cue, Robin entered. Small stared at her in panic but it faded. She couldn't possibly know to whom he was talking. He forced a smile.
"Yes, why?" Small said. Robin walked pass him. Before he could wonder what she was doing when he felt her soft lips at the base of his neck.
"I, oh, so want to meet her," Random said.
Her lips were just at the middle of his neck. "I-I don't think that is such a good idea."
"I've got a good idea," She pulled her mouth from his flesh just as her hands found his belt buckle.
"Perhaps you're right." Random said, "Ah well, we can't have everything we want. Tonight then."
"Yes, thank you. Good bye." Small hung up. He turned to face Robin. Before he could get a word out, she planted a deep, probing kiss on his lips. Her hands were between them, massaging his enlarged member.
"We've never done it in here, have we?" Harsh breaths contorted her words.
Small's eyebrows shot up. He had rarely seen Robin like this. Especially in a public place. "Robin!" He was too excited to say anything else.
She laughed and released his manhood. "I just wanted to make up for last night. Sorry I couldn't come over."
Small smiled a broad grin. He drew her close again. "You can make it up to me tonight. We'll have lots to celebrate."
She pulled back from him, looking him over. Her face turned serious with a tight mouth and drawn brows. “Kevin. It’s going to be OK. We, both of us, have put everything into this.” She hugged his neck. “This is our night. We’ve earned it.”
“I completely agree, babe. I just have a feeling something exciting is going to happen tonight." Small grinned wickedly and helped himself to another kiss.
~
Malcolm rapped on the doorframe to Jordan’s office. “Got six all-weather cameras around Small’s house.”
Jordan grunted without looking up. “So, will he find these as easily as he found your trace?”
Malcolm held up his hands. “Look, man. That trace was state of the art. Bouncing off satellites and everything. There’s no way he should have picked it up.”
Jordan leaned back in his desk chair. “State of the art? Satellites?”
Malcolm sucked in a sharp breath. “Man, I don’t know. Nearly state of the art. Been using that rig for a minute. So, you know…progress and whatnot. Anyway, Small left for work at about 7:30 am. He seems agitated about something.” Malcolm smirked. “He left alone.”
Jordan merely nodded. His eyes seemed to look through his friend.
“OK, well, I gotta get ready for the thing tonight,” Malcolm said after more than a few awkward seconds rolled by.
Jordan heard him but most of his attention was focused on the pages of information on Cody Random he had shared with his partners. He stared at the same spot long after Malcolm had vacated it.
What was he up to…what was his next move? And how did he discover Malcolm’s track? Jordan worked with electronic surveillance back in the day – strictly as a user. He knew it well enough to recognize it. But Random? Where’d he get the wherewithal to detect, and know buzzing meant a tapped line...this wasn’t Random’s thing.
He snapped out of his stupor and blew a sigh. He reared back in his chair and at the doorway saw E-Man leaning in its frame.
"How long have you been standing there?" Jordan asked.
"Long enough," E-Man said. He sat in his usual chair. He threw a newspaper turned to a particularly interesting article onto the desk.
"How sad. Someone burned down an empty warehouse. Who would do such a thing?"
"Life in the big city." E-Man smiled. “Sent you an email.”
Jordan brought it up on his desktop. “What’s this?"
"A little something on our friend, Kevin Small. Courtesy of Don Ross."
"All right, let's see what we got. Born in New York...high school...blah, blah, blah..."Jordan skimmed through the file, "Where's the good stuff?"
"Keep going," E-Man said, his finger twirling in the air. Jordan continued reading. A thin smile worked its way across his face. "Says he got in some trouble for possession when he was sixteen. Really pissed his dad off."
E-Man leaned forward. "Yeah, Daddy's still ticked. Seems that old Kev wanted to go to fashion school and his old man wouldn't pick up the tab."
"Fashion shows…in New York.” Jordan read some more, then lifted his head. “Intense competitive environment.”
“Built in customer base for drugs. Late nights. All that partying. It ain’t all America’s Top Model.”
Jordan arched a brow. “And you know this how…?”
E-Man smiled broad, rocked back in his chair and put his hand behind his head. “Dated a model or two.”
“Of course, you did. In any case, this goes in line with the possession and associating with Random.”
"Plus,” E-Man pointed to direct Jordan back to the email. “there some stuff in there about being a mule for very bad people. He wasn't big time enough to make it in New York, so he cut out a niche here."
"Why did he stay with fashion?" Jordan wondered out loud.
"A front, maybe,” E-Man said, "that's legit, by the way. With a past like that, you'd think Robin would see through him."
"She's a sucker for hopeless men," Jordan said. He rose from his chair. "Thinks she can save them."
"Well, that explains you,” E-Man said.
"You got it bass ackwards...as usual."
E-Man shielded himself with raised hands, fending off the rapier rejoinder. Jordan went to his private bathroom. He came out with a black garment bag. He unzipped it and revealed a tuxedo within. "Well, what do you think?"
E-Man’s face twisted like rotten eggs were in the bag. "It’s...you."
"Don't say it's..."
"Conservative."
"Dammit, E!"
E-Man laughed. He walked over to Jordan. He ran the sleeve of the jacket between his fingers, nodding as if approving.
"It's...presentable. But...now just listen. Don’t get all defensive. We not military now. We can be more…expressive. I mean, it is a fashion show, damn. If I had half the money you did -"
“You had your chance.”
E-Man’s brows came together. “We’re talki
ng about this…” he lifted the sleeve. “thing. Not Japan. I got your back, but I don’t need the Yakuza to be looking for me.”
“He wasn’t Yakuza – he was -”
“Whatever,” E-Man said. He took the sleeve of the tux and brought it close to his face. “This? This right here? This is something straight outta Senator McCain’s closet. I’m talking fashion tips from the Republican Party.”
Jordan pulled the coat from E-Man's grasp. "How many times I got to tell you, everything you wear ain't got to light up the room." The scowl on his face produced a smile on E-Man's.
