by Mel LeBrun
Black Pawn
By Mel LeBrun
Text copyright © 2013 Mel LeBrun
All Rights Reserved
Dedicated to my friends and family for all their loving support, encouragement and input.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
About The Author
Connect With Mel LeBrun Online
Forced Move
Chapter 1
It was a quaint little cyber cafe that Jessica frequented once a month. Located in a small town in southeastern Massachusetts, large floor-to-ceiling windows graced the front. Small, round tables and chairs were placed near the windows. Past the tables, on the left was the counter where gourmet coffee was served. Towards the middle of the room and along the back wall were desks with computers. They offered Internet access for a small fee. Jessica took one of the desks towards the middle of the room.
She came to the cafe to chat with a good friend in Russia whose employment was not always on the legal side of the law. As a precaution, they never spoke on their personal computers or communicated in any way that could be easily traced to each other. They set aside time every month to catch up and chat. She was particularly anticipating their conversation when she saw an email from him with pictures from a vacation he had taken. She browsed through the photos thinking of questions to ask him about his trip. She swore he had taken the same trip last year.
Alexander was his name and while he wasn't much to look at, he certainly made up for it in other ways. His dry wit and exuberant personality was in stark contrast to his scrawny form. A sedentary life spent in front of a computer contributed to his lack of muscle tone and pale skin. From the neck up, he would be considered attractive with his shimmering blonde hair and ice blue eyes. But when your eyes wandered further south, all they would encounter was a bony figure with sun-deprived pale skin. He was, by all counts, a computer geek who used his skills as a hacker. But their friendship had been forged long before he took up that trade. They met in a gaming forum when she was just sixteen and hit it off. He could keep her in stitches with his undying humor. They became fast friends and remarkably, had stayed in touch over the past ten years.
The dinging of the bell on the door alerted her to an entering customer. It was not usually busy after 10:00 am. Most people had already gotten their coffee and were happily, or miserably, on their way to work. She looked up and couldn't help but stare at the towering figure in the doorway. He was tall and muscular with gently tanned skin, short dark brown hair with just a hint of curl and smoldering brown eyes. He was incredibly handsome. He hadn't shaved in a few days and the look suited him very well. He wore a black, snug-fitting t-shirt that came down just over the waistband of his black cargo pants. Rugged black combat boots finished the look.
She stared in awe, unaware how obvious she was being. He glanced around the cafe and then looked directly at her and smiled, to which she allowed a brief smile to cross her lips before nervously burying herself in the computer in front of her.
He walked to the girl at the counter, ordered a cup of coffee and bought a newspaper. He then strolled to a table off to her side, just barely behind her. She swore she could see him looking at her out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't dare turn. Her palms were getting sweaty and she looked at her watch: 11:10 a.m. Where was he? Alex wasn't usually late. In fact, he's usually already online waiting for her.
If she had turned around, she would have seen that the brawny stranger was indeed looking at her. In fact, he chose his seat deliberately so he could admire her long, dark curly hair, the body that was snugly tucked away under clothes that accentuated her five foot, seven inch form, the profile of her delicate face and amber eyes. He mused that in another life, he would have asked for her number. But for now, he would just have to admire. He looked at his watch. Perfect timing. His appointment should be here any minute.
Oblivious to her surroundings, she forced her eyes to stay focused on her computer screen and not wander to the handsome man sitting behind her. So oblivious in fact, she never even registered the dinging of the bell as the door opened or saw the three masked, armed men enter the cafe. Nor did she see the rugged man dive and push her to the ground as shots rang out in the cafe. Stunned from the jolt of being pushed to the ground and the sound of loud gun shots ringing in her ears, she looked up to see the rugged man returning fire on the three armed bandits. Next thing she knew, she was being dragged behind a half wall partition as the handsome stranger she was so nervous about, crouched next to her, returning fire. Almost as quickly as it started the stranger darted from the cafe and out a back door.
Everything was a blur. She was in shock, still unsure of what was happening. Then, for reasons that eluded her, the tall dark stranger was back, firing at the three gunmen. One took a shot straight through the chest and fell backwards, toppling over a table and chairs. Another took a bullet to the shoulder. The third sought cover behind the counter. The handsome stranger kept firing as he walked quickly towards her.
“We have to go! Get up!” he barked, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet.
He pushed her behind him and kept his gun trained on the surviving gunmen's positions as he backed out of the cafe, keeping Jessica behind him. He fired a few more shots when they reached the door, then pushed her towards a black Chevy Tahoe parked in the alley behind the cafe.
“Get in!” he yelled as he ran to the driver's door.
Instinctively, she did as he said and climbed in the passenger seat. Within seconds, they were tearing out of the alley and speeding down the road. After a few minutes, when he was certain they weren't being followed, he e
ased up on the gas and dropped it down to the speed limit. The look on his face showed worry and tension.
“What just happened?” she finally worked up the nerve to ask. Followed quickly by, “Who are you? What did they want? We need to call the police...”
“Quiet! I need to think.”
Not knowing who this man was or where he was even taking her, she started to feel that maybe she shouldn't have gotten in his car.
“Stop the car and let me out.”
She tried her hardest to say it like she meant business.
He ignored her. His mind was racing. Who set him up? How did they find him? More importantly, what was he going to do with the extra baggage he just picked up?
“Stop the car now!” she yelled. “You have to let me out!”
“No. Be quiet!” he snapped.
Demanding wasn't working, she thought.
“Please let me go,” she pleaded. “I won't go to the police, just let me go.”
“I can't. Not yet.”
Jessica had not heard one gunman yell out to one of the others, “Get the cashier!” then the brief scream, followed by single shot.
Michael had, which is why he came back in the cafe. He knew they weren't going to leave witnesses and he couldn't leave an innocent girl to die. Now, though, he wasn't sure what to do with her. He didn't know how far the people after him would take their “no witnesses” policy. If he let her go, he might just be signing her death sentence. He had to make sure they weren't going to come after her. In the meantime, the less she knew, the better.
“Why? Why can't you let me go? You can't keep me prisoner!”
Panic was setting in. She needed to get out of the car before something terrible happened to her. She didn't know this man or why he had taken her, or worse, why he wasn't letting her go. She grabbed the door handle as she prepared to throw herself out of the moving vehicle.
“You open that door, and I will put a bullet in your head before you even get one foot out,” he hissed.
She looked in his eyes and saw how serious he was. Now she was terrified. She cursed herself for getting in his car as tears streamed down her face.
Michael glanced at her as the drops fell from her eyes. She was trembling and in shock. He immediately felt regret over his threatening outburst. He didn't want to scare her, but he needed to control her. He could see she was getting desperate. If she ran off to the authorities or even just went home, she could end up in a coffin. He also couldn't explain the situation to her. If he found she wasn't in any danger, then she could go back to her life, but not if he told her everything. Then she would end up a target like him. She needed to be kept in the dark.
“Look, I don't want to hurt you. We can't go to the police. I just need to think things through. Figure out what's going on,” he stated in a calming tone.
“If I intended to hurt you, I would have just left you in the cafe. They didn't want witnesses and they killed the cashier. You were next.”
His words seemed to take the edge off.
“Who were they? What did they want?”
He looked at her, but didn't say a word and turned his attention back to driving. They were out of the city now, heading towards the coast. She didn't know where they were going and was afraid to ask. She figured he wouldn't tell her anyway.
She watched as civilization slowly disappeared. They had been driving for at least thirty minutes. Now on a deserted road, she hadn't seen a house or another car for at least ten minutes. She could smell the sea air. She had an idea of where they were, but wasn't familiar with any of the back roads he took. The further they drove, the more helpless she felt. Wherever he was taking her, there were sure to be no other people around. Her heart raced.
THEY STOPPED at what looked like an old, tiny warehouse. There was a dock right next to it for smaller boats. The place looked rundown in addition to being deserted. Great, she thought, is this where I'll spend my final moments?
“Come on,” he said as he got out.
He stopped in front of the truck and looked at her through the windshield. She sat frozen, unable to move. She was petrified. He walked to her door and opened it.
“Get out!”
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her from the truck. He held her firmly as he led her down to a door on the water's side of the tiny building. It looked even worse close up. Rusted and old, it had a pitched metal roof. Short, wide windows ran along the edge of the building just under the roof. It looked as though it should be condemned. The water was calm and lapped at the dock. The sound was soothing, even though the surroundings were grungy.
She struggled in vain to break free from his grip as he unlocked the door. She didn't know what awaited her in that disgusting building. She cried out in distress as the heavy metal door squeaked open. She felt as though she might throw up at any moment.
He forced her inside. He was so tall and strong. He must be six foot three, she thought to herself. Her whole body trembled and her heart pounded in her chest as he shut the door behind them. She rapidly assessed her surroundings. There were two sections to the building. The main section looked like the living area. The second section was smaller and had been converted into a bedroom. A small archway only a few steps from the front door joined the two rooms. She could see only a bed and a nightstand.
In the far end of the living area was a bathroom. Next to it were two lockers and a small kitchen area on the right. There was a TV not far from the kitchen along the right wall and a futon sat across from it on the left side of the room. A dining table and two chairs were set up off to the right by the front door. A boiler stood alone in the far left corner. It had all the basic necessities of an apartment without any of the charm. The walls were corrugated metal and she imagined it got cold at night. Remarkably, there was actually water and electricity in the place. It was a bit messy. The bed was unmade, a few dishes were in the sink. Papers were scattered over the table along with newspapers. It was dark and drab, lit only with what little light could filter through the dirty windows. Dingy concrete made up the floor.
Once inside, he released her and she immediately moved away from him. He stood looking at her. There was no hiding the fear she was experiencing.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” he said in a firm yet reassuring tone. His face was virtually devoid of any emotion. Not anger, fear, joy, lust, hate. Nothing. She decided he was either really good at hiding his emotions or a psychopath.
“You can watch some TV if you like. The remote is on the futon.”
He gestured towards it.
She didn't know what to make of his invitation to “make herself at home.” She walked numbly to the futon and sat down. She didn't want to watch TV. She wanted to go home.
“Please let me go,” she begged. Tears welled up in her eyes. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to pretend she was strong. That she was not afraid. But she was terrible at hiding her emotions.
He could see her trembling from across the room. She was terrified and he was torn between keeping her that way or easing her fears. She would either listen to him out of fear or trust. He didn't have time to build trust. He just needed a day or two to make sure they weren't after her. He felt for her, but he didn't let it show. Couldn't let it show. He needed her obedient as though her life depended on it, for indeed it may.
“You can't leave. At least for a few days. It's non-negotiable.”
She didn't know what else to say. She couldn't believe this was happening. Her whole body shook as she tried not to let fear and panic take over. No longer able to restrain the urge to cry, she pulled her knees up to her chest and began sobbing into them.
Michael knew how terrified she was and he felt terrible for being the cause of it. He wanted to comfort her, explain everything so she would understand. But he knew he couldn't. He sat in one of the chairs and stared off at a corner of the floor while he tried to gather his thoughts and ignore the quiet sobbing in the background.
Chapter 2
The screaming could be heard four offices down the hall.
“How could you be so stupid?! You sent in only three men! What is wrong with you?” shouted a very angry man.
He was of average height and a little heavyset, dressed in a plain suit and drab tie. Clean shaven and almost completely bald with a round face, he looked to be about in his early fifties.
“They were our best men, we had the advantage, he didn't know we were coming. It should have been easy ...” Rick replied weakly.
Short and thin, Rick was losing his hair, which he blamed on work. What little brown hair he had left was cut very short, so as not to stand out against the growing bald spot on his head.
“You sent three men! Three! This is Michael Cailen we're talking about.” He lowered his voice dramatically when he used Michael's name, but the anger was still there. “He could have taken out six of your best men with a butter knife and a pair of tweezers for God's sake!” He returned to screaming. “You only sent three! You didn't even scratch him!” His fists pounded the desk.
With his face bright red and a large vein on the side of his head bulging through his skin, the man looked like his head might just pop off in rage.
“You blew our only chance to get him in THREE YEARS!” he raged. “He's a ghost! We'll probably never find him again. And how could these guys mess up so bad? Ski masks? Really? Like he couldn't have seen that coming. They might as well of phoned ahead!”
He threw his hands up.
“We're tracking down a possible lead now sir. He can't be far, we'll get him.”
“Like hell you will. Get out of my sight!”
Rick scurried away, thankful for the reprieve. He would be lucky if he didn't end up dead instead of Michael,
The angry man sat at his desk, trying to calm his breathing and regain his composure. He ran his hands over his bald head and then down his weary face. He couldn't believe something so perfect went so wrong. He knew he should have handled it himself. To hell with deniability.
THE POLICE found nothing while combing through the wreckage at the cafe. They had no idea what had taken place there. It was riddled with bullets. There was blood everywhere, but aside from the cashier there were no other bodies. There were no traces that anyone else had been there, except for the pools of blood from other apparent victims or perpetrators. DNA on the blood would turn up nothing. The security footage of the cafe had mysteriously disappeared, along with Jessica's personal effects. There was no evidence she was even there. The police were left scratching their heads as to what happened. Gang violence?