Jewel walked the last few blocks to her house, already practicing her post-sex demeanor. It was a routine she was used to. As Jewel got to her house and was about to walk up the steps, she heard a noise behind her. She never saw the man who had followed her from Veshawn’s house. Her first thought was that it was her uncle or one of his men. But she didn’t recognize the face of the man who stood behind her, then moved closer, stopping her from entering the house.
The Patriot
Nappy sat quietly as his mother raged at him in the little house. He felt like a kid again as she rolled through her hurt and pain at the disappearance of her only granddaughter.
Rita stood by with her fat arms folded across her fatter chest, shooting lasers at Nappy. This was a victorious moment for Rita. Jewel was gone, maybe dead, and Tawanna blamed Nappy for it.
Jewel had been missing since the end of the school day, and no one knew where she was. Jewel was a good student, and it was unlike her to miss any classes. Nappy feared the worst—that his protection had faltered and some neighborhood thugs had gotten to her for whatever stupid-ass reason they were using this week.
The thought of what those kinds of men would do to her made him sick to his stomach and angry enough to kill.
“We have to call the police,” said Tawanna. She was almost shaking with hurt and fear.
“No,” said Nappy. “No cops. I told you’ll find her.” He had all his forces on the street looking for her. So far the only thing they’d learned was that she had cut her last two classes.
“This is your fault,” said Tawanna. “You and your bullshit have finally got her caught up in something terrible.”
“My fault?” said Nappy incredulously. “You’re the one who won’t move out of this place. I offered—”
“I told you I don’t want your money!” Tawanna screamed. “By the grace of God, I’ve kept you in my heart, but that’s where I drew my line.”
“I said I was going to find her, and I will!” yelled Nappy. “These are my streets, and if she’s out there, I’ll get to her!”
“Who the fuck are you? Batman?” sneered Rita.
“Shut up, you fat bitch!” said Nappy. “You’re not in this family. Go clean up something and stay the fuck out of grown folks’ business.”
Nappy got up and had it in his head to just kick Rita’s ass. That would make him feel better, he thought. He had control over that, and he’d do it—bash her fat little head in until she stopped breathing. As he took a step toward her, he felt his mother grab his arm.
“What are you doing, boy? Leave her alone and find my grandbaby,” ordered Tawanna.
Nappy blinked hard, pulling himself from the murderous feeling in his head. He stopped moving toward Rita and drew his mother to him. Nappy kissed Tawanna and walked out the door.
He got into the Buick and drove off, at the same time and dialing a number on his cell phone.
“Talk to me,” he demanded.
“We got something,” said a young man on the line. “But you ain’t gon’ like it.”
“Just tell it, muthafucka,” said Nappy.
“Your niece got a boyfriend, some dude named Veshawn. One of his boys told us. He’s been hittin’ it regular, from what we heard.”
Cursing, Nappy turned the car around and headed toward the address he was given. He was soon at the Nevada address. He saw his crew’s car parked outside but no sign of the men themselves. They must be inside. He cursed again, loudly. They’d engaged the boyfriend and had probably gotten into a fight. He prayed that Jewel was there but hoped she hadn’t witnessed any violence. Nappy swore to himself that if they had done anything to Veshawn, he’d kill them all.
Nappy entered the house. Just inside the front door, he stopped cold in his tracks. His two men were lying in a heap on the floor, bound together. Standing next to them was the man Wolf had sent them to capture. Beside him was a scared young man tied to a chair. That had to be Veshawn. Before Nappy could react, Luther closed the gap between them.
“Give me your gun,” said Luther.
Nappy saw that Luther was not armed. He instantly went to reach for his gun. As soon as he did, he felt something being jammed into the small of his back.
“Don’t be foolish,” said Hampton from behind him.
Nappy froze. Luther moved closer and took Nappy’s gun from him.
Hampton pushed Nappy farther into the room and then stepped around in front of him. He kept the Baby Eagle trained on Nappy.
“Where is she?” Nappy asked.
“Safe, if you cooperate,” said Luther.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Nappy said, pointing a finger at Veshawn. Veshawn cringed as if he’d been struck. Nappy took a step toward the cowering man, but Hampton waved him back with his gun.
“Now, now, fellas, let’s not fight,” said Luther. He took a step away from Nappy and turned as if to leave. Then he spun on his heel, raised a foot, and kicked Nappy on the chin, dropping him.
Hampton went to Veshawn and untied him.
“If I were you, I’d get as far from Detroit as I could,” said Hampton. “And for the record, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
They secured Nappy and took him out of the house, leaving his men behind. In the car they administered a tranquilizer so that he would not come to. Then they drove away.
“Okay,” said Hampton. “Now what?”
“I get him to talk,” said Luther.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“We kill the girl.” Luther waited a beat and then laughed. “Just kidding.”
“Not funny,” said Hampton. “You want me to help out?”
“No. I don’t want him to know who you are. I might need you later.”
“But if you get the info on the wolf, you’ll call me in.”
“Of course.”
Luther dropped Hampton off at their safe house and then took Nappy to the one place that he knew Alex would never think to look for him. Alex’s Chinatown address had been abandoned, and local thieves had pretty much cleaned the place out. It would be a good place to hide.
Once he was settled in, Luther called his family just to make sure they were all right. His mother answered the phone, sounding cheerful. His siblings had agreed to have the family meeting, and she was delighted.
“I don’t know when I can do it,” said Luther. “I have lots of loose ends here in Detroit.”
“Well, we can’t keep this out there too long,” said Theresa.
“I know, Mama, but business first.”
He heard Ruth’s voice in the background.
“I got a package?” said Theresa. Then to Luther she said, “I’m sorry. This girl is about to worry me to death about some pretty box. Listen, your father wants to talk to you for a minute.”
“I can’t,” said Luther. “Tell Daddy I’ll call him back later. I promise.”
He hurried her off the phone without giving her a number where she could call him. Luther knew he was really upsetting her, but it was for the best. He wanted so much to tell her she might be in danger, but he had to accept what his profession meant for him and his loved ones. They were in this now, and he prayed that Alex was not nearly as far gone as Luther suspected.
When Nappy came to, he found himself seated in a broken old chair, one of the few pieces of furniture that had been left behind.
“That stuff I gave you is good, huh?” said Luther. He hadn’t tied Nappy up. If this was going to work, he had to make Nappy feel that Luther was the lesser of the two evils facing him. Luther had to remember that this civilian was a criminal and in a way almost an agent himself.
“Where’s my niece?” asked Nappy groggily. He got to his feet, then thought better of it and sat back down.
“Where’s my friend?” asked Luther.
“Wolf?”
“Yes,” said Luther, quickly realizing what the name meant. This was more of Alex’s sick humor.
“I don’t know. He’s a sneaky muthafucka, just like you.�
��
“You’re going to bring him to me—tonight. However it is you contact him, do it. The rest is mine, and then your niece will be back home safe and sound. That’s the deal. No negotiating.”
“I’m not stupid,” said Nappy. “I know you and your friend Wolf are government agents. Black ops and all that shit. Only he got smart and turned. And look at you, a black man, the good boy holding down the fort for your master.”
“You got it wrong,” said Luther. “I’m a patriot.”
Nappy laughed at him, a husky laugh that shook his body. “A black patriot. Do you know how stupid that sounds?”
“Patriotism is a principle that teaches that nothing is greater than the ideal of America. Now, my country wants you to tell me what I want to know—or, in the name of patriotism, I will kill you.”
“I don’t turn on my friends. I won’t give you Mr. Wolf.”
“What about your niece?”
Without the slightest change in expression, Nappy said, “Some things you just have to take.”
Luther watched Nappy carefully as he said these words. His training told him that Nappy was lying, trying to see how much leverage he could muster. Nappy had spoken defiantly, but as he had, he’d dropped his eyes from Luther. That was a “tell,” a sign he didn’t believe his own action.
Luther didn’t respond. If he talked, Nappy would know he was calling his bluff, and the game could go on forever. Luther had to make Nappy think he was going to kill him right then and be done with it. And it would follow that his niece would die as well. Luther believed that Nappy had accepted his own death, but he didn’t believe he’d accepted that his young niece would die.
Luther looked Nappy in the eyes, thought about the terrible things Nappy did on the streets to people, to children, then pulled his P99 and raised it as quickly as he could in a fluid motion.
“Wait!” said Nappy. “Hold up, dammit!”
“Make it good,” said Luther from behind the big gun.
Nappy took in a sharp breath, then let it out. “I have to call him from three different places within a time period, and then he meets me.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Luther.
“How do I know you’ll return my niece when I’m done?” asked Nappy.
“Easy,” said Luther, lowering the gun. “I’m the good guy.”
Nappy drove Luther’s Ford as they went to the three locations and made calls. They had to be careful, as the streets were crawling with local police and unmarked cars that Luther could tell were standard FBI issue. He even saw what he believed was a CIA utility van. The terrorism alert had turned the city into a police state, he thought. The commotion over terrorism was a perfect diversion for an agent on a mission.
It was safer for Luther to let Nappy drive, as that way Luther’s hands would be free to counter anything that might happen. Each location was near a party store in east, west, and southwest Detroit. At one phone a kid who had to be a drug dealer waited for a call. As soon as he saw Nappy, he ran off. Luther thought about the kind of fear this man instilled in the criminal populace. He was riding with the devil, he told himself. No matter, Luther thought. Tonight he, not Nappy, was the most dangerous man in Detroit.
Nappy finished the last call and then came back to Luther in the Ford.
“Now I meet him over by Palmer Park,” said Nappy.
“And how do you know that?” asked Luther.
“Because last time I met him near John R Street and the time before that over by Hamtramck. These are the three places we meet. We rotate between them.”
Standard drop procedure, thought Luther. Still, there was something about the locations that made him nervous, something in his training about rendezvous points and structures. He struggled to recall it.
Luther drove from the last location to Palmer Park, which was near the north end of the city close to Eight Mile.
“Now, where’s my niece?” asked Nappy.
“When I see Wolf.” Luther almost said Alex’s real name.
“If she’s been hurt, there’s no place you’ll be able to hide from me.”
“I’ll try not to worry about that.” Luther could not suppress his smile.
“How many men have you killed?” asked Nappy.
“How many children have you poisoned?” Luther retorted.
“Don’t give me that false morality.”
“We all know who we are. Nothing that happens tonight will change that.”
Luther heard himself speak these words, but he wondered whether they were true. Would his apprehension of Alex change him? If he failed, would his old mentor murder him and go on with whatever his personal mission was here in Detroit?
Nappy pulled the Ford onto a street next to Palmer Park. They got out, and Nappy led him across the street and into the park. It was dark out, and Luther walked several steps behind Nappy. Nappy moved toward a grove of trees. The light from the nearby street faded even more, and darkness rapidly enveloped them. Luther slowed his pace, and soon Nappy was well out in front.
Nappy stopped by a large twisted tree. He waited a moment, and when he turned, Luther was gone.
“What the…? What kinda goddamned game you playin’ now, nig—”
Nappy had not finished his thought when he was struck in the chest by something. He stumbled backward from the blow, and then he saw him. Alex stood in front of him. He pulled a knife and swung it so quickly that Nappy did not have time to draw another breath.
Luther grabbed Alex’s long, dark coat and pulled him backward as he struck with the knife. This gave Nappy time to thrust up his arms. Nappy caught the edge of the knife on the meaty part of his left forearm. He felt the warm rush of blood and yelled in pain.
Alex turned and met Luther’s foot. The blow caused Alex to drop the knife.
Nappy saw his chance and ran off into the night, not looking back and not caring who would win the fight.
Luther remembered why the three locations had unnerved him so. A structured rendezvous always invited surveillance. Alex had a transmitter at each one of the stations, which meant that he would be waiting at the drop point.
Alex assumed a fighting position, and Luther threw a punch that he easily blocked. The two men squared off. Luther had his gun, but he was determined not to kill his old mentor.
“I suppose your answer to joining me is no, then?” asked Alex.
Luther ran at him and threw a series of punches and kicks. Alex caught most of them, but the last punch sent him reeling backward. He fell to the ground.
“If you stop now, I’ll spare your family,” said Alex, getting up.
Luther said nothing, but he was sure Alex was not bluffing. Luther had already made his peace with Rule 35. His family was in some danger this night—they were Alex’s backup plan. And in that same moment, he had a notion of exactly what that plan was.
“I got a package?” He heard his mother’s voice. A bomb. The bastard had sent his mother a bomb.
Alex smiled in the darkness, that crazy thing that passed for a smile.
“The gravity of my being here has not occurred to you,” said Alex. “Either you give in to me or they die.”
Luther was enraged, but he quelled his anger. Alex wanted him to be angry. Strong emotion would throw him off. Luther swiftly assessed the situation. If there was a bomb, he’d have to get Alex quickly. If there wasn’t, then it didn’t matter. In either case he had to act in a measured fashion. He would not blow getting the wolf just to save his family. It sounded bad, but that was his job.
Luther blocked a kick and caught Alex around the neck. Alex drove his heel into Luther’s foot, and Luther yelled. He threw Alex aside and jammed an elbow into his ribs. Alex countered with a blow to Luther’s jaw, dropping him. Alex was about to administer a lethal blow when Luther heard a popping sound and saw Alex’s head bob forward. He fell on his face, revealing Hampton standing behind him.
“Where the hell were you?” asked Luther.
“Shit, it�
��s dark out here,” said Hampton. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you.”
“What did you hit him with?” asked Luther, getting up.
“The newest knockout drug. It’s a neural-impact compound that literally shuts down portions of the brain.”
“Good,” said Luther. They couldn’t have Alex waking up in the middle of transport.
“Okay,” said Hampton. “You do what you have to do to him. I don’t want to see it.” Hampton gave Luther a solemn look. He did not like the idea of executing an unconscious man. Shooting or killing someone in the heat of battle was one thing, but now that they had Deavers safe and sound, taking him out seemed barbaric.
“I’m not going to kill him,” said Luther. “Not until I talk to him.”
“What!?” Hampton almost yelled. “You said we’d take him first, but I assumed that you meant to eliminate him soon after.”
“Marcellus,” said Luther. He never called Hampton by his first name, and the use of it now made him pay close attention. “You cannot deny that something is wrong with this mission. Just trust me a little while longer. Meet me back at the base. I’ll explain later.”
Hampton walked off muttering. He was a creature of duty, and the rules meant everything to him. Luther hoped that Alex hadn’t been right about the dangers Hampton might present.
Luther carried his prize away. There was no sign of Nappy, although Luther did see specks of blood by light of the street-lamp, which meant that Nappy had come back across this path. Although there was no one in sight, Luther was sure some jogger or dog walker had spotted or heard the fight and would call the police.
Luther thought about what Alex had said about the bomb as he drove off onto Woodward Avenue, his mission successfully completed. But there was no cause for celebration. Luther was miles away from his family and would never get to them in time. He doubted that his old mentor had left much of a margin for error. They were both trained killers, after all, and this was the deadliest of games.
Luther Green quietly accepted the fate of his occupation and the awful consequence that his family would probably be dead by the end of the night.
The Executioner's Game Page 14