by K'wan
He was hunched over, speaking in a hushed tone on his cell phone. His silky black hair was longer than she remembered; now spilling down freely past his shoulders. His handsome sandblasted face was still relatively the same, except for the five o’clock shadow he now sported. She liked it on him, because it didn’t take away from his boyish good looks, but it did give him more of an edgy look. It had been years since she had seen Anwar and back then, he had been barely a boy, but he was a man now. After giving a few last minute directions to whomever he was speaking to, Anwar ended the call and turned his attention to Kahllah.
“Things are a little crazy tonight and require a bit more attention than usual,” Anwar said apologetically.
“No need to explain. If anything I owe you a debt for saving me from the executioner’s blade,” Kahllah said. “For a minute, I thought I was being abducted by gang bangers.” She was speaking of the bandanas they’d used to cover their faces.
Anwar laughed. “That was to throw off Bastille and his men. All members of the Brotherhood have been forbidden to provide you with assistance under the threat of death.”
This surprised Kahllah. “I didn’t realize I was so popular these days.”
“Popular isn’t quite the word I’d use, but you’re definitely a hot topic right now. I’m pretty sure my head would wind up on the chopping block if word ever got out that I helped you, but it’s the least I could do, especially after all you’ve done for me.”
“There are no debts between us,” Kahllah said dismissively. “As always, you are too modest Black Lotus. I am forever, and gratefully, in the debt of the woman who gave me a second life,” Anwar declared.
When Anwar had come into the Brotherhood he was slightly older than the age they usually took on initiates, but an exception was made due to the special circumstances under which he had brought himself to the order’s attention. Back then, Anwar was known as the Child-Prince because he was merely a teenager, but held sway over a small army. They called themselves the Al-Mukalla, which was the city Anwar and his family hailed from. They had come to America in search of good fortune and they found it in the heroin trade.
Kahllah and Anwar’s paths crossed when the youngster found himself on a Brotherhood hit list. It was discovered that monies that Anwar had been sending back home to the Middle East to take care of friends and family were being used to finance a terrorist cell, which was behind the deaths of several American citizens. Anwar wasn’t involved and had no knowledge of what the money had been used for, but it didn’t matter when the bag was dropped and his head was declared the prize.
Kahllah was given the task of executing him, and she would’ve had it not been for the divine intervention of a mutual friend who worked for Anwar named Sharif. Sharif had been an assassin in service to the Al-Mukalla and a longtime acquaintance of the Black Lotus. Sharif had been in possession of something that had been long sought by the Brotherhood and agreed to allow Kahllah access to it in exchange for sparing Anwar. A secret bargain was struck between the two killers, and Anwar would be allowed to keep his life, but it would be spent in the service of the Brotherhood of Blood as Kahllah’s first and last apprentice.
“You flatter me, Anwar, but I’m not so sure I’m completely deserving of your praises. I knew from the first time I saw you that a young soldier like you would make a welcome addition to my order. My decision to recruit you was based on what was best for the Brotherhood,” Kahllah told him.
Anwar gave him a disbelieving look. “Possibly, but if that was the case how come you never shared Sharif’s gift to you with the elders?”
Kahllah didn’t answer.
“Just as I thought,” Anwar continued. “But enough about the past, let’s get back to the present and your set of problems, like Bastille trying to collect your head.”
“Had you not shown up when you did, he’d have probably succeeded. Speaking of that, how is it that you knew I was in the city let alone where to find me?” Kahllah asked suspiciously. Anwar had been inducted into the Brotherhood under her, but it had been some time since they’d last seen each other. She had seen firsthand how easily old friends could become new rivals so her guard was still up.
“The same way everyone else knew. You’re on a quite a few watch lists so you were flagged the minute you landed in D.C.,” Anwar told her.
“Impossible. I took all the necessary precautions and used none of the Brotherhood channels.”
“With all due respect, Lotus, you need to think about stepping into the new millennia one of these days. Fake I.D.’s aren’t as foolproof as they once were when you have things like facial recognition software. The Brotherhood has made quite a few strides in the technology we now use since last you spent time amongst us.”
“It was like pulling teeth to finally get the elders to relent to accept something as simple as Wi-Fi, and now they’re going all ‘Mission Impossible’.” She shook her head in disbelief. Though most of the order had long ago embraced technology and the advantages that came with it, the elders hadn’t been so easily accepting. They guarded the secrets under the Mountain fiercely and didn’t trust machines within the sacred halls they occupied.
“New leadership often brings new ideals. The days of old are coming to an end and we’re about to usher in a new era of the Brotherhood. I’m still not sure if that’s a good or bad thing,” Anwar said.
“No doubt this new era is being guided by Khan’s hand,” Kahllah spat.
“Yes, the leader of the Black Hand has had the loudest voice, but he isn’t alone in his thinking. Some of the Brothers, especially the younger ones, are tired of living their lives in servitude and secret. I was a little older when you brought me in so I was fortunate enough to have already sampled life as a free man, but some of the others weren’t as fortunate. The Brotherhood recruits its members as children and until they’re adults they never know anything except service to the Brotherhood. Can you imagine what it must be like for a twenty-one year old to have never sampled the flesh of a woman, or known the pain of a hangover? I do not envy them.” “You sound like you agree with Khan’s arguments about how the order is run,” Kahllah accused.
“I don’t necessarily agree, but I don’t wholeheartedly disagree either. I understand why our order moves the way it does, and why we sacrifice lands and titles when we take the oath, but I wouldn’t mind being able to reap some of the fruits of my labor.”
“Surely by now you’ve earned the right to live independently of the order,” Kahllah said.
“Yes, I have a nice house in Oxon Hills and own two stores, but I am still at the beck and call of the Brotherhood.
That isn’t true freedom, just a longer leash,” Anwar said honestly.
“And how do Sol and the others feel about these changes Kahn is trying to implement?” Kahllah asked.
“Sol doesn’t say much of anything anymore, and on those rare occasions when he does speak, it is with Kahn’s voice.”
Kahllah shook her head. “Sol has always been more interested in counting coins and wallowing with his whores, but I can’t imagine that the rest of the elders would sit idle while Kahn corrupts the order. What of the others?”
“Harron has been M.I.A for nearly a month now. He and his captains were dispatched to Prague to investigate reports of a rogue sect looking to seize control of our European chapter. About a week into his trip all communications ceased. We fear that Harron and his men are dead, and Prague has fallen. I personally petitioned to be allowed to fly to Europe to find out what happened, but I was denied. The Black Hand felt like with all that’s going on we needed to consolidate our forces under the Mountain and couldn’t risk losing.”
“More of Kahn’s manipulation,” Kahllah spat. “And Nicodemus?”
“Nicodemus sleeps,” he said solemnly. “A few days ago Nicodemus was discovered in his laboratory, unconscious. Apparently he was bitten by one of the snakes he uses to make his poisons. They say there was no antidote.”
“Th
e Poison Master has been handling snakes longer than you and I have been alive and he’s extremely careful in his work. Nicodemus has been bitten more than a few times, but he would never house any venomous creature without having an antidote for their bite,” Kahllah said suspiciously.
“They’ve ruled it an accident, but there are whispers that it was an assassination attempt. The last I heard he was still alive, but I’m not sure of his condition. He’s being kept in his quarters and under heavy guard. No one but Kahn and the healers have been allowed to see him.”
Kahllah frowned. “This whole thing stinks to high hell and I refuse to sit around acting like I can’t smell it! I need to get inside the Mountain and see Nicodemus.”
“Weren’t you listening when I said he’s being kept in his quarters under guard? Better still, have you forgotten the manhunt launched in your honor? Every available eye is peeled for the Black Lotus. They’d cut you down before you made it through the front gates.”
“You’re right, which is why we aren’t going in the front,” Kahllah announced. “The Mountain holds many secrets, secrets only known to a select few. I’ll take care of our entry into the Mountain. Once we’re inside, I’ll just need you and your men to buy me a few minutes while I speak with Nicodemus.”
“As I’ve told you, Nicodemus is near death and barely lucid. Unless you have the antidote for the poison that’s ravaging his body, I fear this will be a wasted trip and unnecessary risk.”
Kahllah thumbed the gold necklace around her neck and her fingers came to rest on the cylindrical pendant hanging from the end of it. “Not an antidote, but a gift.”
PART IV
WAR READY
CHAPTER 15
The first thing Ashanti heard when he stepped off the elevator was shouting. It sounded like World War III had broken out in Abel’s apartment. There were several raised voices, but Sonja’s was the loudest. After the night he’d had, the last thing he wanted to do was have to go in and break up a fight.
Abel must’ve sensed him in the hallway because he opened the door before Ashanti had a chance to knock. His eyes looked tired, and so did the rest of him. Ashanti knew he had been leaning heavily on Abel lately, and hoped he wasn’t putting too much on him.
“Fuck is all that noise?” Ashanti asked when he stepped through the door. Now that he was inside the voices seemed much louder.
“My brother is tripping. When he came home and found out that Animal was gone and nobody knew where he was, he lost it,” Abel told him. His brother Cain had become extremely fond of Animal. Even before he’d met the man he followed his exploits in the streets. Most kids looked up to athletes and entertainers, but Cain looked up to mass murderers. “What happened to your face?” he noticed the knot on Ashanti’s head and his busted lip.
“It’s a long story,” Ashanti said and continued past him. He walked into the kitchen to find a scene that he could’ve only described as comical. Cain and Red Sonja arguing, while Brasco sat at the table breaking some weed up. He watched the exchange with an amused expression on his face. Zo-Pound sat in a folding chair shaking his head in disgust as the two of them went at it. Ashanti noticed that Zo was wearing a t-shirt that looked at least a full size too small.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t understand how a house full of so called competent people can lose track of an entire person,” Cain was saying.
“For the hundredth time, we didn’t lose him, he left,” Sonja shot back.
“Same shit, the point I’m making is it shouldn’t have happened. Even only having one eye I was able to see he wasn’t in his right frame of mind when he left. If something happens to Animal then all this and the sacrifices made will have been for nothing,” Cain looked at his brother Abel when he said this.
It was the elephant in the room that they had yet to address. When they’d run down on George at the club they ended up having to shoot their way out. In the process, Abel laid a cop. Killing a law enforcement agent wasn’t like dropping some common street nigga that nobody would miss. It was a capital offense, and if it ever came back on Abel he was going to get the needle. Abel had downplayed it as if he wasn’t on his mind, but they all knew that wasn’t true. Ever since it’d happened he’d been acting different. Abel had always been fun, loving, and warm, but he’d become distant and quiet. Cain was worried about his twin and truth be told, so was Ashanti.
Cain stopped his ranting when he noticed Ashanti standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Our fearless leader has returned,” he said sarcastically.
“Not now, Cain. I ain’t in the mood for another one of your temper tantrums,” Ashanti warned as he walked past him to get to Zo-Pound. “Thanks for coming,” he gave Zo dap.
“You already know,” Zo told him.
Ashanti looked down at the tight shirt his friend was wearing and smirked. “Nice shirt.”
“Fuck you,” Zo said good-naturedly. “Mine had blood on it so Cain let me borrow one of his.”
Ashanti got serious. “You good?”
“Wasn’t my blood, it belonged to the janky little fucker who tried to off me. Apparently there’s a price on my head big enough to have niggas trying to bite the hand that was feeding them,” Zo said angrily.
“Join the club. Some dudes tried to off me too,” Ashanti pointed to his busted lip. “Two of us almost dying in one night ain’t no coincidence. Before Cain dropped that ungrateful ass nigga Ocho he told me somebody dropped a bag on my head. My guess is everybody in this room is a walking payday.” Zo said.
“It was probably that cartel bitch,” Brasco added.
“I doubt it,” Sonja spoke up. “Lilith wouldn’t have used thugs, she’d have used hired assassins and the both of you would be dead.”
“I forgot you’re the resident authority on all things related to Lilith,” Ashanti said. “You know it’s like the deeper we dig into this the more it stinks, and quite frankly so do you.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sonja asked defensively.
“It means that after that stunt you pulled with not telling us about the flash drive I can’t help but to wonder if there’s anything else you’re keeping from us.”
Sonja rolled her eyes. “I told you that I didn’t know what was on the flash drive!”
“I find that hard to believe,” a voice startled them. All eyes in the kitchen turned to the hall just outside the entrance. Animal stood looming in the shadows. He’d slipped back into the apartment just as quietly as he’d slipped out. “I’ve never known you to touch a situation without first knowing it inside and out,” he stepped into the kitchen. In the light they could all see the blood and dirt on his clothes. Slung across his back was a messenger bag.
“Oh my God, we’ve been so worried about you! Where’ve you been?” Sonja asked.
Animal gave her a look that was so cold you could felt the temperature drop in the room. He stepped around her, nodding at everyone in the room in greeting. When he got to Brasco his face softened. Brasco stood and they shared a manly embrace. “Been a long time.”
“Too long, my nigga,” Brasco said emotionally. “I just wished that we’d have met again under different circumstances. Listen, I’m sorry to hear about —”
“I know, I was able to hear you in there,” Animal cut him off. “I was lost, not dead. Thank you for your kind words old friend, but right now the sound of your gun will give me more comfort than your condolences. We’ll mourn my wife after I’ve assassinated her killers and brought my kids home.”
“That’s the Animal I was waiting for to make an appearance!” Red Sonja said proudly.
“Shut up,” Animal said to Sonja, and everyone else’s surprise.
“Excuse me?” she was taken aback.
“I said shut your troublesome ass up. You brought this shit to my door,” Animal said harshly.
“Animal, my daughter has been taken too, why are you acting like you’re the only victim in this?” Sonja’s eyes welled up with tears.
; “Nah, baby. I ain’t the only victim, just the only fool. You played me Sonja…you played us all.”
“Animal, I don’t appreciate how you’re coming at me. I know you’re upset about what happened to your little girlfriend, but —” Red Sonja never got a chance to finish her sentence.
Animal swooped in and grabbed Red Sonja by the throat, forcing her against the wall so hard that the plaster splintered. There was a wild look in his eyes and his words were quick and sharp. “Her name was Gucci!” he rained spittle into her face. “And she wasn’t my girlfriend, she was my wife…my everything! You might not have respected her in life, but you’re sure as hell going to respect her memory. Do you understand me, Sonja?”
“Just be cool, Blood,” Ashanti laid his hand gently on Animal’s shoulder. He was rewarded by Animal shoving him so hard that he crashed into the refrigerator.
“I asked you a muthafucking question,” Animal squeezed Sonja’s throat a little tighter. “Do-you-understand?”
“Yes, Tayshawn! Yes!” Sonja gasped. She had seen Animal angry before, but never like he was at that moment. When Animal finally released her, she slid down to the floor, clutching her throat. She had pushed him to his limit and gotten away with it many times over the years, but for the first time she was afraid that he actually might kill her.