by K'wan
“Angela that woman is not your mother. Our mother died years ago in a dope house. If you shoot me, you’ll be killing the only family you got left in this world. Just put the gun down so we can talk, please,” Ashanti pleaded. She lowered her gun slightly and for a minute, it seemed like Ashanti was getting through to her.
“What’s going on down there?” A uniformed police officer rounded the corner.
She spun and fired on the cop, hitting him in the shoulder. She was such a good shot that she could’ve hit him between the eyes at that range if she so chose, but she didn’t want to kill him, just back him off long enough to finish the job that she had come to do. She had expected Ashanti to be on the move when she turned back to him, but he was still standing in the same spot. There was such sincerity in his eyes that she almost wondered if there was any truth to what he claimed.
In the distance, they heard sirens. A knowing look passed between them. They both knew how it would play out if they lingered. She tucked her gun back into the holster under her arm. “The next time we meet I won’t hesitate to take your life,” she hissed before disappearing into the shadows of the block.
Ashanti wanted to go after her, but he was in no condition to give chase. His whole body ached from the beating he took and the police were on the way. He limped back to his car and was able to get off the block just before the first police cruiser bent the corner. He pounded the steering wheel in frustration thinking how close he had come to being reunited with the sister he had been in search of for so many years. Seeing how Lilith had brainwashed his last surviving relative gave him a whole new reason to hate her. He vowed that no matter how things played out, he would get his sister back, even if he had to singlehandedly murder the entire cartel to do it.
*
Not long after Ashanti had fled the scene Detectives Brown and Alvarez showed up. They were just wrapping up at Original Sin, which wasn’t too far away, when the call came in about the shooting near the Barclay’s.
As usual, they were too late to catch anything except the aftermath of what had gone down. There were several dead bodies and no suspects, which seemed to be the reoccurring theme of their night. From what they’d learned from speaking to the medical examiner and the first officers on the scene, the dead youths had been murdered by a single shooter. They found multiple shell casings on the ground, but only one gun, the one belonging to the boys. The casings from the missing gun were different than the caliber of gun used at Original Sin, but the M.O. fit.
While Detective Alvarez spoke with the uniformed officers, trying to see if there was anything they might have missed, Detective Brown surveyed the crime scene. He shone his flashlight on the ground looking for anything that might’ve given him some insight as to who the other shooter might’ve been. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his pack of cigarettes, tapping it on the back of his hand to get one out. He tapped a bit too hard and the cigarette fell on the floor. When he shone his light down to see where his cigarette had gone, he found something. Focusing his flashlight on the spot, he knelt down to get a better look. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like drops of blood.
“Over here!” Detective Brown called out, never taking his eyes off the spots.
“You find something?” Detective Alvarez approached. He was followed by the medical examiner.
“I sure hope so,” Detective Brown said. “Is this blood?” he asked the medical examiner.
She fished around in the small case she carried and pulled out a black light. When she shone it on the spot the detective was pointing at, the drops were illuminated under the light. “Looks like it to me.”
“Maybe it’s from one of the victims,” Detective Alvarez suggested.
“It’s possible, but I doubt it. It’s too far away from where the victims were found to be splatter,” she explained.
“Is it enough for you to get a useable sample?” Detective Brown asked hopefully.
“It should be.”
“Good, tag it and bag it,” Detective Brown stood and brushed his knees off. “If we’re lucky, maybe our shooter has been convicted of a violent crime and we’ve got their DNA in the system.”
“That’s a big if, and you know neither one of us has been big on luck lately,” Detective Alvarez said.
“I know, Jay, but right now that’s all we have left to go on.”
CHAPTER 10
By the time Kahllah got off the long flight from LAX to Dulles International Airport, she was tired…more tired than she could ever recall being. Not just physically tired, but mentally too. The events of the last few days had her drained and there was still so much to do. She prayed to the creator to give her the strength she would need to carry her through to the end.
She’d tried to get some sleep during the flight, but found no rest. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the bloody images from the house. Since she was a little girl, Kahllah’s heart and mind had been hardened to the sight of death and destruction. It was all a part of the necessary cycle of life, but there were those rare instances when things hit too close to home and she couldn’t help but to feel it, such as when she had found Gucci’s body.
Kahllah and Gucci had only known each other a few short years, but the circumstances that brought them together helped to form what would grow into a sisterly bond. Gucci had proven to Kahllah that she genuinely loved her brother and would do whatever it took to protect him, just as he would for her. Often they’d speak of the risks that came with being with a man like Animal, and while Gucci acknowledged the danger, she never budged from his side. They were soul mates and only death could part them…so it did. The sound that came from her brother when she broke the news to him about Gucci was like nothing she had ever heard. It was like the baying of a dozen hounds howling at a blood moon. Something had died inside him, but something had also been awakened. There was no doubt in Kahllah’s mind how Animal would react to his wife being killed and his children kidnapped; he would follow the trail of blood to its source and attempt to take his vengeance against those who had wronged him, even if it meant fighting a war he had no hopes of winning. For what they had done to Gucci, he would gladly walk into the fires of hell and spit in the devil’s face, and that’s exactly what he was doing by going against the cartel and the woman who now led them.
To most, she was known as Lilith, wife of the drug chieftain Poppito and the one now pulling the strings of the cartel, but Kahllah knew her by a different name. Many years ago, she had been called Tiger Lily, one of the most highly successful assassins within the Brotherhood of Blood and Kahllah’s instructor. Tiger Lily had been renowned for both her ruthlessness and her skill with blades, especially, the uniquely crafted tiger claws that she used to dispatch her victims. It had been more than ten years since Kahllah had laid eyes on her old teacher and she had thought her to be dead until she found her sitting at the head of the Puerto Rican drug cartel. The moment Kahllah had found out the true identity of Animal’s enemy, she made to warn him what they were really up against, but by then it was too late. A blood feud had been initiated and Kahllah had to do what she could to stop it, before she lost anyone else close to her. This is what carried her across the country in the middle of the night.
Normally Kahllah would’ve flown into Regan National, where her contacts in the Brotherhood of Blood would’ve allowed her to travel with her weapons, but the last thing she wanted at that moment was to alert the Brotherhood to her presence. Members of the order she had served faithfully since she was a young girl had now deemed her a threat and wanted her dead. From what she had gathered so far, a man named Kahn had been responsible. Kahn was the commander of the Black Hand, a sect of the Brotherhood that was entrusted to enforce and dispatch its justice. Kahn was an ambitious man and had his own agenda for the direction he thought the Brotherhood should be going in and Kahllah, as a member of their inner council, could’ve represented a problem. This is the reason he’d used his influence within the Brotherhood to move agains
t her.
It was also no coincidence that Kahn made his move at the same time Tiger Lily had resurfaced. They appeared to have two different agendas, but both seemed to involve Animal and Kahllah. If she could figure out what the connection was and expose it, she might be able to save her loved ones and restore her name to the place of honor where it belonged. To accomplish this, she would need answers and the only place she knew of to get them was from the old men under the mountain.
Getting an audience with the elders of their order was difficult for those in good standing so it would be damn near impossible for someone who had been branded rogue, such as Kahllah. She couldn’t go through normal channels so she would have to be resourceful. The only problem with that was she now had very little resources to work with. The agents of the Brotherhood had already frozen her bank accounts and had her name and known aliases on a half dozen watch lists.
Thankfully, they weren’t familiar with all her false identities and she found one that had allowed her to make it from Los Angeles to Washington D.C. without incident. That was the easy part. Now the real task would begin.
She bumped through the airport making her way towards the area where they kept the lockers. For a few dollars, you could rent one of the small boxes to store things for extended periods of time. From inside the locker she retrieved a duffel bag. Inside the bag were cash, a car key, some bogus credit cards, a knife, and a small silver key. After collecting her belongings, she headed for the long term parking garage where she had a car waiting. Kahllah kept cars in the long term parking garages at several major airports and a few of the smaller ones too, in case of an emergency. She paid the bills every month and the parking attendants made sure the batteries were always charged. She did this in case of extreme circumstances where rental cars were too risky and she needed to make a quick getaway, such as her current situation.
It didn’t take her long to find her car in the lot. It was a late model tan Honda Accord. It was a reliable vehicle and plain enough looking to where it could easily blend into traffic. From the film of dust on the outside of the car you could tell that it hadn’t been driven in a while, but it started right up when she turned the key. She popped the trunk, then retrieved the knife and small silver key from her duffle bag and walked around the back of the car. She snatched the spare tire out of the trunk, exposing the moldy looking carpet beneath. With a flick of her knife, she sliced the rug open and revealed the false bottom. It was a steel plate with a key hole so small you’d likely miss it unless you were looking for it. Kahllah used the silver key to undo the lock and pulled the plate back to reveal the hidden treasure it concealed, several blades, a few small guns, and one of her signature black masks. She picked the mask up and ran her finger across the lotus flower carved into the metal. Now she was ready to play.
*
Kahllah felt better once she was armed. The few blades and handguns weren’t quite the usual arsenal she carried around, but they’d have to do for the moment. Kahllah’s final destination would be Virginia, but she would set up a temporary base of operations in D.C. Staying at one of the Brotherhood safe houses in D.C. was out of the question, and checking into a hotel would be too risky. The Brotherhood had agents everywhere. She drove to South East and checked into a seedy motel that she had become familiar with while once on a job down that way. The place was a complete dump and a rest haven for drug addicts. It was the last place anyone would expect to find an international assassin.
After checking into the room, Kahllah secured the locks on the door and flopped across the bed. The mattress was lumpy, and the sheets smelled like a combination of stale beer and sex, but it was the first time Kahllah had been able to lay still in days. For all intents and purposes, the room was a real shit- hole, but Kahllah had endured worse. When she was a little girl, she had been the property of slavers who forced her and the other girls to sleep in a small alcove they had carved out in
The side of a mountain. There was barely enough room to stand up straight and at night the rats would make appetizers of the girls. If Kahllah could survive living under those conditions for all the years she was held captive, she could survive the motel for a night.
Kahllah’s stomach growled fiercely reminding her that it hadn’t eaten anything more than the peanuts the served on the flight in the last couple of days. There wasn’t much more she could do that night that could help her or Animal, so she decided to grab something to eat and get some rest. After a quick shower, she threw on some fresh clothes, black jeans, a black shirt, and combat boots. She left the harness containing her blades, but did tuck one of the handguns into the back of her pants before leaving the room.
When she had arrived at the motel, she recalled seeing a McDonalds a block or so away, so that’s where she was headed. Kahllah hated to put anything into her body that was less than natural but she didn’t have the time or the energy to be picky. Between the shower and the cool night air hitting her, Kahllah was starting to feel more like her. Her senses were alive and in tune with everything around her. The drug addicts and pushers on the block wisely gave her a wide berth as she passed them. The fact that she was a female walking through that neighborhood at that hour of the night and didn’t look nervous said that she was prepared for whatever they might’ve been thinking.
She was in and out of McDonalds in less than five minutes. Kahllah was so hungry that she couldn’t wait until she got back to her room, so she began eating her food on the walk back to the motel. She had just devoured a Fillet-O-Fish and was about to start working on her nuggets when she felt the hairs stand on the back of her neck. Years of combat training kicked in and Kahllah was immediately on high alert. Without making it obvious, she scanned the block for signs of potential danger. She spotted a green SUV coasting down the same side of the street she was walking on. It was a gaudy monstrosity with a chromed out grill and rims that had to be at least twenty-eight inches. The car paced her and Kahllah’s hand instinctively went to her gun, but she didn’t draw. Behind the wheel of the SUV, smiling out at her, was a young man wearing a huge gold chain. He was obviously some sort of drug dealer or pimp, either way; she wasn’t in the mood.
“Baby, you know you’re way too fine to be out here walking, right?” the young man called out the window. Kahllah ignored him and kept walking. “C’mon, slim. Don’t act like that; I’m just trying to be friendly.” When Kahllah continued to ignore him, he parked the car at the curb and jumped out. “Why don’t you slow down for a minute?” he jogged up beside her.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying,” Kahllah said in a less than friendly tone. She hoped he’d take the hint, but somehow she knew that he wouldn’t.
“Damn, you’re a cold blooded one, huh? Maybe I could help warm you up,” he reached for her, but Kahllah slapped his hand away.
“Listen, I’ve tried to be nice about it but you’re about as sharp as a roll of tissue. Get the fuck away from me and leave me alone!” she snapped. She tried to walk away, but he stepped into her path.
“Bitch, who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” the young man’s eyes flashed anger. A small knife had appeared in his hand.
“Someone who is about to have a very bad night.”
As soon as she saw the muscles in his shoulder twitch, Kahllah was in motion. She grabbed his arm and gave him a light tap on the elbow, causing his arm to involuntarily bend. Before the young man even realized what was going on, Kahllah had him pinned against a wall, with his arm twisted so that he was holding the knife against his own throat.
“I should kill you just for disrespecting me by pulling that little ass knife. You couldn’t hurt anybody but yourself with that thing.” She applied just enough pressure to where he nicked himself and a small tickle of blood ran down the blade. To her surprise, a smile spread across the young man’s lips.
“It was never about hurting you. All I was paid to do was keep you distracted.”
Kahllah threw herself out of the way just a
s the first spray of bullets slammed into the wall, cutting the young man down. She rolled to her feet just in time to see several figures dressed in all black and wearing masks surging towards her. They’d found her! Even with all the precautions she had taken, the Brotherhood had still managed to track her down.
Using a passing bus to her advantage, Kahllah bolted for the street. A second spray of gunfire erupted and lit up the bus, hitting the driver and several passengers. From their sloppy execution, she could tell the assassins were initiates and not seasoned members of their order, which she planned to use to her advantage.
Just as she had expected, the shooters came charging around the bus, never taking the time to see if they had hit their target. Kahllah was waiting for them. Her gun spit, dropping two of them, but there were still three more coming. No longer able to use the bus for cover she was a sitting duck. Kahllah reasoned that a good run was better than a bad stand and made to get out of there. She backpedaled, firing her gun to keep them off her back while she made her escape. Kahllah had her pursuers by at least half a block. There was an apartment complex on the next street and she was sure she could lose them between the buildings.
She had just made it to the corner and could taste freedom when something knocked it out of her mouth. Between Kahllah’s momentum and the punch, she lost her balance and fell. She was trying to get up when someone grabbed her by her hair and lifted her off her feet with the ease of a parent hoisting a small child. Fighting against the pain in her skull, she twisted her head and found herself face to face with a monstrous, yet familiar face.
“Bastille,” she rasped.
*
Bastille stood easily six foot six with a jaw that looked like it had been carved from the side of a mountain and shoulders wide enough to block out the moonlight. His smashed in nose and badly scarred face told the tale of the many battles he’d seen. He was second in command of the Black Hand and the Brotherhood of Blood’s chief executioner. At one time, Kahllah and her attacker had been friends, but now they stood on two different sides of a coin.