Lost Angel

by Kyle West

  “Boring?” Raine said, with rising irritation. “You’re bored, so you gamble our men’s lives?”

  “It’s worked so far, Raine. I’ve kept this going for years. I’m good at it. Damn good. And if you meddle with how I do things, it’ll all come crashing down.” Ohlan leaned forward. “You’re too noble, brother. Too good. You don’t have the stomach for it, and quite frankly, the intellect.”

  Raine opened his mouth to respond to that, but deep down, he knew Ohlan was right. His brother had always been more daring and smarter than him. The problem was, no one really liked Ohlan the way they liked Raine.

  “Remember our chess games growing up, brother,” Ohlan said. “Sometimes, sacrifices are necessary to attain a victory. You never wanted to lose a single piece.”

  “You’re admitting you’ve let men die, then,” Raine said.

  Ohlan nodded. “Of course. It’s all for the greater good.”

  “What have those lives bought us, Ohlan?”

  “Something even more valuable,” he said. “Information. The ability to play them, to project strength when we have none, to feign weakness when we’re strong. Remember how you wanted to meet them in the field in the last war, Raine?” Ohlan laughed. “It was me who said we needed to be formless, to strike from the shadows, to keep them as far from Angel Command for as long as possible. That strategy gave time for Dan to set up his explosives.”

  Raine did remember his brother directing the Angels’ overall strategy. It had saved the group, and it had given the Angels more time to resist.

  “It didn’t stop them from coming in the end, though,” Raine said, somewhat lamely.

  “All during that time, my contacts with Reapers were asking me, why can’t we find the Angels? Why won’t they give us a fight?” Ohlan looked at Raine, his eyes calculating. “I was playing them, Raine. I told them you were afraid to meet them in the open. That you knew you were going to lose. That you were fleeing south, deeper into the maze of South L.A. They pushed in, overextending themselves. They lost so many men that they had to gather everything for an attack on Angel Command. Something Carin Black never wanted to do.”

  “You’re just telling me this, now? Why keep me out of the loop?”

  “Because, brother,” Ohlan said, “It’s like a Grandmaster trying to explain advanced chess tactics to a novice. That’s not a dig on you, Raine. The point is, with your personality, you’re not ready to take the risks necessary to ensure victory against a numerically superior foe.”

  “And you are?”

  Ohlan looked away. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. That’s my job. To be the villain. To make the hard decisions. To be the . . . toilet of the Lost Angels. To flush all the problems away so you can keep your hands clean.” Ohlan looked back at his brother. Raine thought he’d been joking, but his eyes were deadly serious. “Each of us must play our parts, Raine. You’re the handsome hero, the tragic figure avenging his wife and child. And me?” Ohlan shook his head in self-pity. Raine couldn’t tell if it was mocking or not. “I’m the ghost lying in wait. I’m the liar, the joker, the gambler. Formless. Unpredictable.”

  “That’s the thing,” Raine said. “You’re my brother. You always will be. I demand you let me in on what you do. Be unpredictable to everyone but me.”

  “Why?” Ohlan asked. “So you can put a stop to it when shit starts to get real?”

  “I need to know the risks the Angels are under,” Raine said. “You need to tell me what they know about us, right now, at this very moment.”

  “Telling you that might ruin everything I’ve been working for.”

  “Who else is involved? Eddie? Miles? Shaw?”

  “None of them know a quarter of what you know,” Ohlan said. “Consider it as a token of my trust.”

  “You don’t trust me, though,” Raine said. “Otherwise you’d tell me everything.”

  “I don’t tell you, Raine, because I know you,” Ohlan said. “If I told you just how deep this goes . . .” He shook his head. “I’ll tell you only if you promise to let me do my work, Raine. Swear it on the graves of your dead wife and daughter.”

  Raine’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t promise that, if you’re risking too much.”

  “There you have it,” Ohlan said.

  “You’re going to force my hand, Ohlan,” Raine said.

  “Get rid of me, then,” Ohlan said. “And watch the house of cards crumble.”

  Raine looked at his brother closely. How serious was he? He wasn’t sure how much of this to believe.

  Raine reached for the bottle again, pouring two more glasses, till the whole thing was killed.

  “I have the right to question you,” Raine said. “You say you’re the Grandmaster. Then you should know that even Grandmasters lose, given they play enough games.”

  Ohlan shrugged, as if to concede that point. “I haven’t lost yet.”

  “They’ll find you out eventually,” Raine said. “They might already know. This Cyrus situation . . .”

  “L.A. is a dangerous place,” Ohlan said. “The Reapers are in a war right now. The blame doesn’t necessarily fall on me for those dead Reaps.”

  “All the same,” Raine said, “Black will be wanting to know what’s happened to one of his most useful agents. The last person he met with was you.”

  “Green will tell you just as I will that the ambush site looks like the work of the Hills Alliance.”

  “All right, then. Why kill one of your most useful contacts?”

  “Didn’t plan to,” Ohlan said. “Until I learned about the bomb. Cyrus was testing me, Raine. He wanted to see where my loyalties were.” His blue gaze held steady. “I think he learned the answer to that question pretty quick.”

  Raine watched him for a long time, seeking some measure of doubt. Of course, it was Ohlan, so he betrayed nothing that could’ve given Raine a clue.

  “Dan’s investigation clears you,” Raine said, finally. “If there’s anyone who has a bone to pick with you, it’s him.”

  “I’m a free man, then.”

  It wasn’t a question. Raine nodded. “You’re a free man. Is there anything you should be telling me right now?”

  Ohlan watched his brother for a moment, pondering the question.

  “There’s something, I suppose.”

  Raine raised his eyebrows. “Well, don’t leave me hanging.”

  “It’s about Makara,” Ohlan said. “You have to keep her in check, Raine. She was in that Macy’s when I was meeting with Cyrus. She could’ve blown the whole thing up before I got the chance to finish things.”

  “Maybe it’s you who should be more careful about where you meet.”

  “It was Cyrus who insisted on that spot,” Ohlan said. “I had to cooperate. The man was marked for death anyway, so no harm, no foul.”

  “I thought you said you only killed him because you learned about the bomb.”

  “His time was already coming, Raine. He was daring too much. He was urging me to take over the gang.” Ohlan chuckled. “I assure you, that’s the last thing I want.”

  Raine shook his head. “I’ll speak to Makara, then. But one thing I won’t budge on: you’ll never, ever to allow another Reaper into this place again. We aren’t going to have this conversation again.” Raine stared at him, hard. “Got it?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “You’re free to go,” Raine said.

  Ohlan left, and Raine felt the buzz of the liquor, a friendly, familiar warmth. He wanted to feed that buzz, until it was a fire roaring within him that would drown out all else.

  Raine cleared his throat and reached for his water.

  Chapter 30

  WHEN RAINE HAD THAT conversation with Makara, warning her not to stick her nose into trouble, she did not take it well. Nor did she like that Raine was letting Ohlan off easy. If anything, it only motivated her to keep her eyes on him even more.

  She’d just have to be more careful. Makara didn’t know how Ohlan had seen her in th
at Macy’s, but somehow, he’d managed it. If she really was a loose end, then Ohlan had elected not to kill her. That didn’t make sense.

  She felt doubt about her conviction for the first time. If the information shared with Cyrus was as pivotal as she’d thought, then she shouldn’t be alive anymore.

  None of it made sense. She still didn’t trust Ohlan, not by a long shot.

  It needed more investigation. But how?

  She lay in bed, her schooling for the day done, and threw her rubber ball at the ceiling to think. She was alone, with no Samuel there to interrupt her thoughts. No Samuel there to stop her from doing the right thing.

  The dangerous thing, sure. But when had Makara ever shied away from danger? Nothing could have been worse than that horrible night, four years ago.

  Don’t think about that.

  Watching Ohlan was easier said than done. She had stumbled upon something last time. Ohlan would be more careful in the future. She’d never be able to get close to him again unless he was walking around in public, where everyone else could see him, too.

  Makara wanted to see him when he thought no one was watching. Worse, he had his own cronies, men she was sure would obey him over Raine if push came to shove.

  Maybe all this is too big for me. Maybe Raine’s right. Maybe I should keep my nose out of it.

  She didn’t like that thought. She threw the ball harder, causing the ceiling tiles get knocked out of place. The bouncy ball rolled above the ceiling.

  “Great,” she muttered.

  It might not be impossible get it back, though. Makara climbed on top of a nearby table, and then used that to get on top of a dresser. She had to crouch before her head hit the ceiling. She pushed the ceiling tile up, and poked her head into the darkness above.

  It was cool and dusty up here. She sneezed, kicking up even more dust. Her ball was about five feet away, and out of reach from where she stood.

  “This is dumb,” she said.

  Nonetheless, she noticed a horizontal rafter above the ceiling tiles. She reached for it, after jumping a small distance, and easily pulled herself up.

  The space wasn’t much. She had to crouch, but she walked another rafter over and reached down to retrieve her ball.

  When she put it back in her pocket, she paused. All the hairs on her arm and neck stood on end.

  Wait a sec . . .

  Would it really be this easy? She peered into the distance, the space between the ceiling below and the floor above. This space extended beyond Makara and Samuel’s shared room. If she could find a way to enter this space, but near wherever Ohlan happened to be, she would be able to eavesdrop on him.

  If she was quiet and didn’t make any missteps, there was absolutely no way she’d be detected. Even if she was, she could escape quickly and come down. The question was, if Ohlan was meeting somebody, would she be able to hear anything from above?

  That answer came soon enough. She heard voices coming from a few rafters down. She creeped closer, stepping softly on each rafter as she pressed forward. The voices became louder. A man and a woman arguing.

  Makara knelt, and stayed as quiet as she could. She could hear almost every word clearly, even though they were warbled through the ceiling below.

  This could be it, she said.

  Experimentally, she threw the rubber ball on the ceiling above where the voices were coming from.

  The voices immediately stopped.

  Makara giggled and backed away. If she really wanted, she could get the ball later.

  For now, though, she was too excited about the possibilities.

  “I’ll find him out,” she said. “He’ll never know.”

  WHEN SAMUEL RETURNED to the room, Makara was gone. His sharp eyes noticed something off immediately about the bedroom. The ceiling tile in the corner was out of place.

  “That damn ball,” he said.

  He climbed up and set it right. He then spent the next few minutes tidying up and putting away all Makara’s books, toys, and homework where they belonged. If he didn’t do it, it would never get done.

  He left the room, toward the tiny kitchen. He took a corn tortilla he’d gotten from the market, and wrapped up some veggies and potatoes, and ate.

  While he chewed, something tickled at the back of his mind. The ceiling tile had been in the corner, not where Makara usually threw her ball. And Makara wasn’t here . . .

  He returned to the bedroom, finishing his wrap. He waited.

  Just a few minutes later, he heard some scratching and thuds from above.

  Then, the tile moved, and a single boot lowered, then another. Makara dropped down with a thud, landing neatly on top of the dresser, facing away from her brother while she fixed the tile.

  “I don’t even want to ask,” he said.

  Makara jumped while letting out a tiny yip. She turned and immediately looked angry.

  “I lost my ball up there,” she said.

  “I see,” Samuel said, his tone skeptical.

  Her face reddened as he continued to watch her. She sat on her bed and faced him.

  “Where’s the ball, then?” he asked.

  “Couldn’t find it,” she said, after a moment. “Can you leave me alone, now? Don’t you have stuff to do?”

  “Came home to eat,” he said. “I was about to head back out, but I knew something was off about that ceiling tile.”

  “So?” she asked, in challenge.

  “So,” Samuel said simply, “if you are really going to sneak around, I won’t stop you. But you should consider covering your tracks a bit better.”

  She looked at him in shock, and that look was all Samuel needed to know he’d been right on the money. Makara’s mouth worked until she could find the appropriate repose.

  “I have to do this, Samuel,” she said. “If Raine is really going to let that criminal walk free, I have to take care of things myself. There wasn’t even a trial, like you said there’d be.”

  “Well,” Samuel said, taking a seat on his bed, “it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference, truth be told. There wasn’t enough evidence. I’m sure Raine is keeping a close eye on him.”

  Makara sighed. “Somehow, I doubt that. If he is, Ohlan will be covering his tracks better.”

  Samuel had to concede that point.

  He looked at his little sister, troubled. He knew it was useless to scold her. That had been Raine’s mistake. Scolding her only fanned the flames of her contrarian nature.

  “Well, if you’re really set on doing this, then I have no choice but to help you.”

  Her face instantly brightened. “Really?”

  Samuel nodded. “There’s no stopping you when your mind is set on something. I don’t think Ohlan’s betraying Raine, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep an eye on him.” Samuel paused. “As a hedge.”

  “A hedge? What’s that?”

  “It just means planning for all circumstances, in case things don’t turn out the way you expect. Thinking you’re right isn’t the same as being right. So, you also invest energy in the opposite option. In case you’re wrong.”

  “Raine doesn’t do that,” Makara said. “When he believes something, he believes one hundred percent and doesn’t . . . hedge, as you call it.”

  “That’s why he has us, right?” Samuel looked up at the ceiling. “We’ll be his hedge. How quiet can you be up there?”

  “Quiet as a mouse,” Makara said. “Promise.”

  “I heard your racket coming down.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be quiet.” Makara’s eyes suddenly widened. “We should practice! You try as hard as you can to hear me. I’ll sneak around the ceiling, and after two minutes, you have to tap the part you think I’m in.”

  Samuel nodded, impressed. “That’s a good idea.”

  The siblings did just that. After Makara disappeared above, Samuel was surprised that he heard absolutely nothing. He made some guesses, and he only got close to being right on one of them. His guess
ing was no better than random chance, as far as he could tell.

  When Makara came down, covered with dust, the two of them put their heads together and made plans.

  Chapter 31

  THE NEXT STEP WAS SCOUTING for an entry point. It took over a week to find a suitable one, in a bathroom close to the group of apartments Ohlan had a room in. The hard part was watching Ohlan’s schedule over the next couple of weeks, and to Makara’s disappointment, he never seemed to do anything sinister. He was almost always in the open, and he not only talked with his own cronies, like Terrance Shaw and Adam Miles, but also dealt with other Angels, including most of the Council members. Ohlan gave no sign that he knew he was being watched, but of course, that didn’t mean anything. If he was trying to bait Makara, he wouldn’t give away he knew he was being followed. Makara recognized Ohlan might have people watching his back, even if armed guards didn’t follow him everywhere.

  Ohlan was all about working from the shadows. He did meet with people behind closed doors, but Makara resisted the temptation to find a way to eavesdrop. She didn’t think she was ready to take that kind of risk, yet.

  Once the siblings had gotten a handle on his schedule, they began exploring the best places to enter the partitions between the ceiling and floor. Not every spot had one. Nevertheless, Makara found a lot of places she could enter, and easily memorized the points Ohlan often found himself.

  On Tuesdays, he seemed to have a standing appointment with Kevin Klein, whose role had shifted over the years to be almost exclusively the Angels’ Archivist rather than therapist. He met with Darlene Sanders on occasion at her office in the clinic, which Makara had easy access to. He met with his cronies, too; Eddie Melo, Terrance Shaw, and Adam Miles, but always in the open and never behind closed doors, as far as Makara could tell.

  When Samuel became confident that Makara knew her away around the mall better than anybody, they were ready to begin the real work.

  And slowly, over days, and then weeks, they started to learn things.

  They learned Ohlan woke at almost precisely 6:30 every morning and climbed a ladder outside his apartment to the rooftop. Sometimes he waited there for the sun to rise over the mountains, sometimes he smoked a cigarette. It seemed to be the only time of day he was truly alone.