Angelos Odyssey

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Angelos Odyssey Page 36

by J. B. M. Patrick


  The officer stared at him… and then he cocked his arm back and in a quick motion sent his fist forward in a jab to Amour's jaw! The boy fell to the ground, clutching and shielding his head. He was picked up by the officer, who dragged him into a barn that had almost been decimated by a fire which quickly diminished.

  “You know it gets lonely out here sometimes, miss. A man gets sent by his country into the theater of war for more than just a few months… shit gets eerie. And it's not the 'eerie' you'd normally think about, lady—it's like you're constantly seein' this clock count down to your final day on Earth. I've been out here fighting for a long time. Haven't seen my wife and kids. My wife is so beautiful, you know.” He slammed Amour's head into a wall. “I haven't heard from her for two months now; all communication back home was destroyed—our radios fucking gone, can you believe it?” He grinned wickedly. “At least I've got you for the night! Permanence is never promised to soldiers. We must take when necessary.”

  “No, wait! Please!” He cried, “Stop!”

  “… A boy?” The official muttered curiously before shrugging it off. “Tch. I suppose it’s all the same anyhow.”

  Amour still remembered feeling scabbed and bloodied hands tearing his clothing from his form. The officer struck him multiple times, focusing on his head and neck when he resisted. Regardless, he kept fighting against it until knocked almost senseless by the officer. Pressing his head against the soil below, feeling pain caused by himself, was far better to him than having to suffer the monstrous desires of the Wanre official.

  In only a day's time, Amour became a different person. He'd earned a reputation of being kind, humble, and mostly harmless. On the night that he was brutally raped by the soldier, however, Amour decided what kind of man he wanted to become with an anger unmatched in its intensity…

  9

  A Lonely Man

  --

  Tavon

  --

  EZE IS IN THE CORNER OF OUR NEW DEN, an abandoned shed belonging to a condemned house that was to be purchased and redeveloped within a matter of weeks. He figured that the process of obtaining the property would buy us some time before we had to relocate once again. For now, the Third Quadrant was still home to us. Although Major Sofie acted oblivious to the lower class, it worked in our favor and enabled us to get away with every scheme Eze could imagine.

  I was sitting on an old, grey pad as long as my body and still looked at him for approval because I felt like… like I protected us. But I was too afraid to ask him, too afraid of his rejection, because he's the only one I had. He hadn't shot up yet, and something in me wanted him to just so he'd say something… anything.

  “I tried to buy us some of that good people food, you know.” Eze utters as he stares blankly at the ground. “Went into a nice little restaurant. They kept looking at me like I was crazy as hell. I don't know, T, maybe I need to get in another shower and wash up soon.”

  He stood and started pacing around the room. “They kicked me out. But they sent a nice young lady out to give me what I wanted to pay for… it's not all bad out there, kid. Even though life will put holes in you, you gotta keep trying to get what's yours, feel me?”

  “Y-yeah… I got you, pops—But what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Patience, boy!” Eze grew serious, bearing a demeanor I'd never really seen. He moved closer to me with a wild look in his eyes. “You’ve never asked why I keep calling you 'Tavon' or ‘T,’ huh? I've got a future in mind for you—something I didn't get to have. I-I mean, I'm going to make it big; I'm going to end up being wealthy and famous, but you gotta do that faster than me, Tavon! I want you to set yourself up for success early so you can retire and live somewhere nice—like the Upper-City. You know they got their own temperature control?! It's not like the rest of the Citadel, but the Upper-City has everything… it's always cool. Nice, you know?”

  “Yeah, I got you. But what about it?”

  “What about it?!” Eze put his hands on my shoulders and stared at me. “I've been neglecting my promise to take care of you, T. I care about you, son, and you remember how the last few weeks been going, right?”

  “Damn right, I do; we hit that store good!”

  “Exactly! And you helped me plan it.” He smiled. “I noticed they were closing down and selling everything at a discount, and setting off the fire alarms was your idea—and you even was able to grab more than me at the end of the day! The money we made… I'm using it to get you in school where you need to be, Tavon.”

  I was shocked and felt a little intimidated. At the time, I didn't understand what a school really was.

  “What?! No… I can't do that, Eze; I don’t know how—”

  “The hell you can't! You don't got a choice, because I'm going to figure out how to get you into a good school and get you going. You're smart, kid! That cop back there… Rowlo, that shit wasn't natural. You keep lying and telling me that you don't know anything about yourself—”

  “But it's not a lie-”

  “Shut up. You keep lying, and I just let it go… but someone taught you something that you're hiding from me. You're not as dumb as these goons on the streets, and you belong in a place where you won't be waiting to start getting high as soon as you can. It's time to drop all this shit, T; you WILL go to school, and I'll stay out here grinding and gettin’ the money this world owes me. So, while I'm getting rich, you finna be getting smart and prepped to own your own empire someday. Do I make myself clear?”

  I looked away, unsure. Nervous.

  Eze slapped me in the face.

  “I told you it's not a choice! This is for you, T! School—no more getting high—got me?!”

  “Okay-okay, ow!” I rubbed the side of my face.

  And that was that: Eze used his few connections to introduce me to a private school outside of the Dawn Federation's public education system. It was the only school I ever went to: The Khalil Center for Independent Learners, where I took the first steps to becoming who I am today…

  --

  Janelle

  --

  “Mr… Tavon, is it? Is that how you say it?”

  Detective Aden Kaust walked into a small, stark white room containing the rather prolific assassin. Tavon smirked. There was barely a scratch on him from the attack at Aaliyah's apartment. “Yeah,” he replied, “you got it right.”

  Kaust continued absentmindedly searching through a series of files as he walked with an exhausted gait over to sit down at a table across from Tavon. He thumbed through a few more notes, let out a deep sigh, and then he simply stared at the same spot for a few moments. Kaust blinked and calmly moved his head up and focused his gaze into the assassin, boring his eyes deep into the man sitting in front of him.

  Tavon shrugged and spoke, “That's how they teach you to say hello here?”

  The detective gave him a brief smile, which returned to a pronounced look of disgust. “If you really think about it, Tavon—can you I call you Tavon?”

  “If it makes you happy, go ahead.”

  “If you really think about it, Tavon, why would someone try to kill by strangulation anyways? I mean, today we have so many options to get that sort of job done. Frankly, I feel like a gun is just so much easier—what about you?”

  “I've never really thought about it.” Tavon folded his arms and sat back in his seat.

  “Well, all I'm saying is if this attacker would've taken my approach, your ass would've been another body in this investigation. Did you know that we had two agents fall tonight due to similar assassination attempts? And both of the killers somehow managed to pull it off without using guns, either! … And yet you're the only one who survives.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “So, Tavon goes to Detective Aaliyah's home—most likely leading the assailant there—makes himself comfortable, and then kills a man without a taking any injuries himself.” Kaust put his hands in the air. “In an agency that extensively trains all of its operatives in combat, two
of our people are dead. But some fool finds you on a couch, tries to kill you, and suddenly you must display some kind of super skills to take this guy out… —wait…” Kaust suddenly looks really embarrassed. “I forgot to ask if you wanted anything?” He leaned in with a falsified expression of concern. “Like food? Water?”

  “Am I being detained?”

  “Of course not! Volunteering helpful information ensures that we've got your back the next time you’re in a situation that takes a bad turn.”

  “I'm good, detective.”

  Kaust stared at him blankly for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. He then smiled and knocked his knuckles on the table. “Well, I'm famished. Give me a moment, Tavon; I'm going to at least grab myself some water—trying to, uh, watch my diet, you know—and I wouldn’t want to waste too much of your time.”

  As soon as Kaust opened the door to a hallway leading to the central Bureau office, Aaliyah was there to yell in his face. “Why don't you just ask him what you want already!”

  “Why did you signal for me to come outside, agent? Was there something you could actually bring to the table, or are you just upset that your boyfriend might not be such a good guy…?”

  “Because he beat up a petty criminal trying to strangle him!?”

  Kaust smiled at her. “Let's just say I've been doing some research on our mutual associate, but you'll find out—oh, and don't they need your assistance in the recent attacks?”

  “I—”

  “Go ask Lieutenant Shraeu where you need to report. That's an order.”

  Aaliyah stomped away bitterly.

  “Thank you, agent.” Kaust nodded.

  She flipped him off in response and continued to Shraeu's office. Only, she stopped short upon hearing two people in a hushed argument within the locked conference room next door to his abode. The room was obscured with blinds, but Aaliyah's own hearing had always been exceptional and thus she was able to make out one of the speakers: Detective Zola.

  The office was mostly empty, dispatched to the issue at hand, and so Aaliyah rested her head against the small crevice embedded within the door frame in order to listen in more closely.

  “How long is this whole thing going to last for you, huh?”

  “Shraeu… I don't know what you're talking about.”

  “I mean, how long until you decide that you're bored of me? Am I just another one of your flings borne from a man who can’t make you happy!?”

  “I never said he made me unhappy.”

  The shadow of the Lieutenant moved in close to Zola. “But how could someone like that possibly make you happy? Don't you understand the meaning of what he's done?!”

  “You don't need to bring up his past in front of me; it just makes you seem like you're insecure and want to prove something, and he’s definitely NOT insecure.”

  “That's bullshit!” Shraeu slammed his fist against the wall. He was still drunk. “We're talking about a monster, Zola! What he's doing to people has to affect the way you feel about him—I-I know what it is! It's some kind of Stock-Holmes Syndrome, isn't it? He’s taken you hostage—and you can’t see it!”

  “I'm not afraid of him, Shraeu; he's never made me afraid of him, and you can't see beyond what he's done like I can. My husband is a powerful man, and I can't abandon him right now…”

  “Well, maybe I should take away the option altogether.” Shraeu replied grimly.

  --

  Kaust sets a portable music player down and starts playing a song from the Chi-Lites, “A Lonely Man.” He clasps his hands together and laughs. “You a fan of classic soul, Tavon?”

  “You bet.”

  Might as well play along.

  “It's all I can listen to these days.” Kaust laughed as if he felt embarrassed. “All the kids are out playing that future, beep-bop computer music. Going to clubs, getting messed up one way or another, and dancing their way into a fast adulthood. See, that's why I keep my baby face.” Kaust smiled widely. “I don't like to play around picking up every drug this city puts out there. I stopped drinking, too, which was one of my bigger steps in life—and… well now, I'm just a guy in his second prime who puts away bad people for a living. I bet you're thinking 'the ladies love you'—and you're right!—but I don’t got time for all those unnecessary love games, you know. I’ve got a family, and, although they hate me, it’s my duty to provide. So, I'm especially pissed that you put hands on my boy!”

  “What?” Tavon's interest in the conversation returned.

  Kaust was still smiling but retained an intense gaze focused on the assassin. “Yeah, my man; you remember a kid about ye tall, scrawny—kind of a punk, you know, but overall a good kid?”

  “Uh—”

  “You probably don't, because that's not how you work, is it? Not too long ago—last year, actually, an employee goes missing at a, uh, power plant, I believe. Fhordly's Power Plant. His body turns up a year later in the World Below. Forensic analysis leads professionals to the conclusion that the employee's corpse possessed burn marks intended to mask fatal impact wounds. Case picks up attention again but is eventually archived for a slow day, and the Bureau never has a slow day. On January the tenth of the this year, a drug den is raided and every combatant slain. Each fallen combatant bares similar burn marks.”

  “Wow,” retorts Tavon nonchalantly, “seems like that's something you should look into.”

  “Oh, I have been. There's several other cases just like this—seemingly related in nature, in fact!”

  “But the Bureau hasn't been able to establish a link between those cases. Establish the link, and you'd all be facing a matter of bigger proportion and interest.”

  “You're right, Tavon!” Kaust banged his hand on the table again but more aggressively this time. “Absolutely right! Therefore, I want you to tell me why only the other day my son is minding himself and you decide to beat the living hell out of him!? And why, not far from the scene, Isaac Reaver's body is discovered with—you guessed it—BURN MARKS!”

  “I don't know why you’re asking me, detective.”

  Kaust rapidly moved forward to position himself only a few inches from Tavon's face as he raised his voice. “You're telling me that my son lied to my face? That he didn't describe you correctly—that he didn't remember you BY NAME? Don't you fucking lie to me or I'll make sure that you never step foot outside a fucking cell!”

  --

  Aaliyah continued listening to Shraeu and Zola's conversation.

  “You're saying you're going to kill him? Like, don’t you have a conference to get to?” Zola started laughing.

  “I'm saying that I'm going to have him arrested and ensure the law deals with him!”

  “And if you do that, the law will pick you up, too, Shraeu! Don't you understand how much I have on you? After all the time we've spent together, what did you think I was doing when you weren't looking, huh? I own you, Shraeu!”

  “How dare…” The Lieutenant rested his hands on his hips and looked down. “You. You're right. I've given you access to everything… —but it was to set us up to have a future together!”

  Zola kept laughing but slowly became more serious as she took a moment to think. She then said, “Tell you what, Shraeu.” She drew herself close and allowed the Lieutenant to put his arms around her. “Put my husband out of his misery.”

  “If that's what I have to do, then I'll do it for you: the realest love I've got.”

  “It's the only way I'll be free from his terror. You have to kill him, Shraeu.”

  --

  Tavon could feel a small surge of adrenaline rising in his body. He looked at Kaust with a mocking expression. “Your son probably followed some bad dudes too heavily, and so I'd say he got what was coming to him, you know what I mean? The question is: what are you going to do about it, Detective?”

  “You ignorant mother—!” Kaust grabbed the assassin's shirt.

  “Detective Kaust!”

  Aaliyah was standing at the door, her f
ace scarlet red. “They've assigned you to lead the second team heading in to investigate the bombing. Lieutenant Shraeu wants to see you now—and he’s delegated this interview as my responsibility!” She was bluffing.

  Kaust brought his fists down on the table and walked away without even looking at Tavon. However, he turned to Aaliyah and said: “I did a background check on him! Guy has no records of birth, no medical history, debt history, transcripts—nothing at all, Aaliyah! When I get back, I'll do a more global search… But this isn't over.” He bared his teeth. “And after the conclusion of this session, I'm ordering you to completely cut yourself off from communicating with a possible suspect!”

  He headed for the door, but Aaliyah quickly grabbed him. “What do you mean 'possible suspect?' Suspect in what?”

  “A series of unsolved murders, agent. Something bigger than you right now, so go ahead and do as you're told… or risk me finally writing you up for constant—and I mean CONSTANT—disrespect and insubordination.”

  “Copy that.” Aaliyah refused to look at the detective anymore. But as soon as he left the room, she sat down across from Tavon and exclaimed: “Fuck him. I'll 'communicate' with whoever I want—but also, what the hell was that, Tavon?”

  Tavon smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. “He thinks I hit his kid.”

  “Did you?”

  “Even if I did, dude was grown enough to work a knife and was posing as a gang member; what do you expect?”

  Aaliyah sighed. “I can't believe they came to my apartment… are you hurt?”

  Tavon took her hands in his and smiled. “I’m fine. At least they won't ever think about coming after you again. Next time, they'll pick somebody weaker.”

  “You know, they found a symbol in the other agents’ houses.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It was written out. Using blood.”

  “That's definitely a way to make a statement.”

  “I took a picture using my Kom Cell.” She held an image up to Tavon that displayed the symbol of a crimson bear weathering an intricate depiction of a surrounding storm.

 

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