by Mike Dagons
“He told you about it, and he is dead,” he answered coolly.
“He didn’t tell me anything about his computer. He didn’t give me details about what he was going to auction because he knew I wouldn’t know a priceless artifact from a punch bowl, and neither would any of my friends. He didn’t tell me any business secrets, and I didn’t steal his computer!” I shouted.
“Then how come we can’t find it?” Mark stood up.
“How many times do I have to say it? I don’t know who took his computer or why you can’t find it. He didn’t talk about his work, and I didn’t talk about mine.”
“What’s there to talk about? How many orders of fries you sold?” Mark laughed.
“Steven loved me, and he didn’t give a damn about what I did for a living. You go ahead and laugh at me for being a hard working chick. I’m glad I’m not some candy ass rich boy who would probably starve if you weren’t living off daddy!”
“The bitch is fiery,” Mark laughed.
“I wish I could believe you, Severe, but I can’t.” Mr. Basin stepped back, and then Mark and Ceylon lifted me in the chair.
They carried me over to what looked like a shampoo bowl, and dread rose in my chest so fast, I started to hyperventilate. “What are you doing?” I asked in a panic, but I knew they were getting ready to waterboard my ass in the shampoo bowl. Instinctively, I started fighting against my restraints.
“Severe, I must know if you’re telling me the truth,” Mr. Basin explained in an almost apologetic tone.
“I’ve answered you honestly,” I screamed when I heard the water running through the hose behind me. I didn’t have to rely on my acting skills to appear scared shitless.
Of all the things I went through in Charter training, the waterboarding was the absolute worst. I had nightmares about drowning for months. I even skipped showering for a few days after because the sound of running water freaked me out. Thinking about the horror of going through it again had me panting in uncontrolled terror. “Please, what do you want from me?” I screamed and cried.
“You act like you know what we’re about to do,” Mark chuckled.
“Everybody knows what torture is, you ASSHOLE!” I screamed at him. If my hands had been free, I would have happily blown my cover for the chance to cut his fucking throat. “Please don’t do this. I’m telling you the truth,” I fixed my eyes on Ceylon because my gut told me that he felt something for me, or he simply had a weakness for women.
“I need you to tell the truth, baby,” he said soothingly.
They leaned my chair back until my neck was resting in the slope of the bowl. Ceylon covered my face with a cloth, and I went ballistic.
My scream was cut short by the sudden downpour of water on my face. I was experiencing the same kind of panic I felt earlier when I was drowning in Lake Michigan. It was only a few seconds before I started to suck in water. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew they didn’t want to kill me, but I swear I didn’t find any comfort in knowing it.
The water stopped, and the cloth was removed, but I was still choking. As soon as I was able to catch a breath, I started confessing. “Okay, okay, I did it. I killed him, Goddammit! I killed him, and I sold his computer. Is that what you want to hear?” I sobbed real tears.
“How did you kill him, white bitch?” Mark spoke directly in my ear.
“I shot him…no I stabbed him while he was sleeping, and then I took the computer from his safe,” I blubbered.
“What’s the combination to the safe?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know!” I sputtered, and thanked God I really didn’t, because if I had, I would have told them.
Ceylon draped the cloth back over my face. “Please, I don’t know!” I screamed, and screamed, until the heaviness of the water soaking through the cloth stole my breath. I reared up in the chair, and tried turning my head away, but someone gripped my hair, and firmly held my head still.
It’s funny, but my thoughts went to Melvin. I wondered if he’d known they were going to do this to me. I silently cursed him for letting me talk him into letting me do this shit.
I was suffering horribly, and there was no way to defend against what was happening to me. For the second time in as many days, I resigned myself to drowning.
As soon as I stopped moving, Ceylon snatched me up, and started untying me from the chair. My eyeballs were bulging in terror, and he appeared hazy. I was no longer under water, but I still couldn’t take a breath. Paralyzing fear had stopped my lungs from working.
“Damn, she was only under water a few fucking seconds,” Mark laughed.
“She’s scared to death.” Ceylon started working faster. He freed me from the chair, and then put me on the floor on my back. He pinched my nose, and then blew a hard breath into my mouth.
Air filled my lungs, pushing the water out and making me cough and spit up. I gasped my first deep breath of fresh air in what felt like minutes instead of seconds, and then I sprang up into a sitting position and latched my arms around Ceylon’s neck, wrapping myself around him like a vine on a tree.
Ceylon tried to push me away, but I clung to him tighter. “Why are you doing this to me?” I cried like a scared toddler.
He was a killer, but he’d shown me that he had a heart, and I was trying like hell to break it with my pitiful act. “It’s okay,” he rubbed his hands over my back. “It’s over,” he stood up with me in his arms because he couldn’t pry me loose. “I believe she’s telling the truth,” he said.
“Why, because she crying?” Mark huffed.
“Nah, because if she knew the fucking combination, she would have told us!” he barked.
“Take her upstairs and put her in one of the rooms,” Basin ordered, his tone resolved.
Ceylon carried me out the room in his arms. “Important muthafuckas,” he mumbled once we were on the other side of the door.
I kept my head buried in his neck, and fought the urge to give in to the fatigue my near death experience had caused. I was aware that I was still in danger, and Ceylon was a real source of that danger, but oddly, I felt safe in his arms. Maybe I’d fallen victim to that syndrome where victims bond with their captors…what was it called… the Helsinki syndrome? I was tired as hell, too tired to think, danger or not, I wasn’t going to have any problem falling asleep.
Ceylon stepped into the elevator with me still securely in his strong arms. I nuzzled my nose in the curve of his muscled neck, breathed in his wonderful scent. I stopped fighting to stay awake, and fell asleep.
Chapter 18
I opened my eyes a slither, and saw Ceylon sitting in a chair near the bed. His head was tilted back, and he was sleeping soundly. He was wearing army fatigues, and a dark green wife beater that clearly defined his rippling abs and hard pecs. His feet were slightly parted, and one hand was resting on his stomach, and the other on his sidearm. Even in his sleep he looked coiled to strike. My eyes traveled up to his face, and I saw that his beautiful brown eyes were open, watching me checking him out.
“How you feeling?” he asked. No smile, all business.
“Fine, thank you. Who put me in bed, you?” I threw the covers back and sat up on the side of the bed. I was naked underneath the robe I was wearing, but the belt was tied tight, so no skin was exposed.
“Yes, you were wiped out.”
“Yeah, literally,” I chuckled dryly. “You undressed me, too?”
“Yes, but I didn’t look,” he smiled shyly.
“I’ll bet,” I scoffed. “Steven told me that his father and his brother, Mark, were assholes sometimes. Now I know why he thought so. Is it true that he’s dead?” I asked timidly, like I was afraid his answer would be yes.
“Yes, I’m afraid he is.” His eyes were dead on mine, reading my thoughts.
I balled the sheet up in my hand, and clutched it to my chest, and then I burst into tears, gut wrenching, heartrending tears that made my body shake. I was crying because the horror of being nearly drowned was stil
l fresh in my mind. Of course Ceylon thought I was crying about Steven’s death. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, or care how long it took, but I swear I was going to get over the fear of drowning.
Ceylon got up from his chair, and sat down on the bed beside me. He pulled me into his arms, and hugged me tight. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, and I believed him.
He let me sob all over him for a good three minutes, and then he combed his fingers back through my hair. He was petting me, but not like I was a child, like Blue and Ryan did.
I raised my head and looked into his searching eyes. “Thank you,” I said with a weak smile.
He was the same age as Ice, and just as handsome. His gaze never fell below my chin, and I could tell he was making a conscious effort not to let it.
“You’re welcome,” his voice was kind.
The door flew open, letting me know I should have no expectation of privacy in the Basin household, and Shirley Basin, the bitch of the manor stood there glaring at us.
She was in her mid fifties, and very attractive. She was wearing a fitted sundress that showed off her curvy body, and high heel pumps that made her long legs look slender. Her thick peppered gray hair was relaxed, and hung loosely on her shoulders. Her eyes danced back and forth between us, as she stepped inside the door. “Am I interrupting?” she asked in a chilly tone.
“No, I was just making sure she was okay,” he stood up, and walked by her and out the door without glancing back at me.
“Were you going to fuck him under my son’s roof less than twelve hours after you allegedly learned he is dead?”
BITCH! I screamed in my head, and then said, “No ma’am, I was not. I know you don’t believe it, but Steven and I loved each other.”
“You right, I don’t believe it,” she snapped.
These people saw all white people as a threat to their existence. We were all self-serving, and dishonest, and they didn’t have anymore respect for me than they did the Ku Klux Klan.
I knew his mother was grieving, but my gut told me that I needed to take a wrecking ball to their stereotypical racist bullshit if I wanted to get invited to stay for the funeral.
Steven had told me that his mother hated phonies more than she hated white people. So I made the decision to come at her in her own straight forward style.
“What we had wasn’t sordid, Mrs. Basin. It was genuine, and you can’t spoil my memories of the love we shared with insensitive remarks.”
I was taking a risk by being so bold, but Ryan had told me to rely on my instincts, and they were telling me not to act timid with this lady.
“So you think my son was in love with you? He dated a lot of white women, you know.”
“Your asshole son, Mark, made sure that I did,” I replied coldly. “You think that Steven cared about my skin color, but he didn’t. He loved the person I am underneath it. He told me that he fell in love with me because I reminded him of you. He admired your strength, and it’s what he saw in me. You raised a sensitive, caring person that loved and respected you enough to conceal his true feelings for me because he knew you disliked interracial relationships. He planned to bring me back here to meet you because he loved me. He loved me, and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with my skin color. He loved me,” I repeated slowly. “And there is nothing you can say to convince me that he didn’t!”
She actually smiled. “I can see why he loved you,” her voice cracked. “Here, he wanted you to have this,” she held the ring box out to me.
“What’s this?” I took it from her hand like I thought it might bite, and then I opened it hesitantly.
It was a splendid five carat square cut diamond set in a diamond studded platinum band. I cradled it to my chest like the precious piece of jewelry it was, and started to cry again. “He didn’t lie to me,” I spoke softly, and then tried to look like I was entranced and speaking to the dead. Hell yeah, it was over the top, but it was making my point...our love was so deep it transcended understanding, and bridged the gap between life and death. So what if the idea of Steven choosing me to spend his life with wasn’t what Shirley wanted for him. I wasn’t going to hold back on my performance to spare this bitch’s feelings.
After a breakdown gut sob, I held it out to her. “I can’t take it. He never got the chance to ask me, but I want you to know that my answer would have been yes.”
She nodded knowingly. “You have to keep it. Steven would never forgive me if I let you give it back. I expect you to stay with us until his memorial service is over. We both know my son would have wanted you here, so don’t say no. Please join us for brunch by the pool if you’re feeling up to it,” she turned quickly, and marched out the door.
I felt like jumping up and down and cheering, but I had to assume there were cameras in the room watching my every move, so I clutched my ring to my chest, and then crawled back under the covers to hide my face while I pretended to bawl some more.
While I was at Charter an instructor named Luke trained me in self-defense and weapons use, but I spent most of my time there with Glenda, an old German woman, who was reportedly the best honey trap in the business in her day. A bulldozer can knock down walls, but it creates a lot of unnecessary rubble. Skillful manipulation can get you the same results without exerting half the energy. When given the choice, avoid using strong arm tactics and use the soft con. A gifted manipulator can bring a strong man to his knee with a sexy voice and a smile. It was the first thing she said to me after we were introduced, and it’s what she trained me to do, manipulate and gently persuade.
I didn’t know how to solve a Calculus problem, but I knew how to solve most people problems. Against the odds, I had persevered. I had worked the Basins and Mr. Battle, and I had survived the fucking horrible torture session. I wanted to call Ryan and scream, I fucking did it! I conned them overeducated, know it all, racist muthafuckas. I was inside the big house, and I planned to go to that brunch, do some snooping around, and report my initial findings tonight.
Chapter 19
Janie’s leg was healing nicely, and although it still pained her some, she was able to walk on it without using a crutch.
She wasn’t getting any special privileges, and nobody was talking to her, but at least Melvin wasn’t denying her medical care, or decent meals. Of course, she knew it didn’t mean he had changed his mind about killing her after his precious operation was over. And she didn’t plan to wait around to see what kind of torturous death he had planned for her.
It had been a week since he came in to talk to her, and she had detected a growing uneasiness in the people who were delivering her meals. There was a definite change in the atmosphere around the place. She presumed it was because the auction invitations had finally been delivered. If she was right, the people she feared most would be preoccupied with their plan to infiltrate the auction, and focusing very little attention on her. It was what she’d been waiting for—the perfect time to make her escape.
She received fresh linen every night after her dinner tray was picked up. The same two people had been handling that task for the last few days. A newbie desk tech named Ivy. She was a black woman in her late twenties, who had a lot of cyber knowledge, but no tactical experience. Ivy hadn’t been scheduled to start work until the end of the month, but given the shortage in personnel since they lost her. It was no surprise that Ryan had brought her in early. The other agent, Odell, was a thirty five year old redneck, junior analyst with some field training. He was a man whore who flirted with every female he came across. She had warned Ryan that he was a security risk because he was more concerned about his dick than he was about doing the job, but he opted to move him to a desk instead of firing him. Now, she thanked God he hadn’t listened to her.
Janie felt lucky because giving inexperienced personnel security sensitive assignments was not commonplace. More experienced operators would have definitely been assigned to her, if they had been available, because she was extremely dangerous.
She never would have guessed Ryan would make an exception in Severe’s case. The little heifer had slipped in and stole her role in this operation, forcing her to make some risky last minute changes that included involving Petro Yeltsin.
Janie knew that the cameras in the cellblock recorded on a continuous loop, and nobody was assigned to sit and watch the monitors when things were operating normally. The daily recordings were reviewed nightly, and then archived.
She couldn’t be certain Bender hadn’t changed that policy since her arrest, so she casually brought it up in conversation with Odell when they delivered her dinner earlier; mentioning how hard it was for her to use the bathroom knowing she was being watched constantly.
She had shot down his advances before, so the horny prick was happy to hear about her discomfort. “Nobody thinks you’re important enough to watch 24/7, bitch.” He’d mocked her, and inadvertently eased her mind.
Janie had marveled at how easy it had been to get him to divulge important information. She would have liked to have given her leg another day or two to heal, but since he was so gullible, and Ivy was so naïve, there was no better time to make her move. Waiting could mean she’d have to face a more experienced team if Ryan decided to replace them tomorrow.
Janie finished her meal, which was a delicious Rigatoni dish with baked bread, and then watched the clock while she waited for them to return to pick up her tray and deliver fresh linen.
When she heard the door to the cell block open, she got up and went behind the toilet partition. She removed the nail she had hidden there, and then sat on the commode.
“I need you out front with your hands behind your head, Janie,” Ivy said, when she opened the door to her cell.
“I’m sick, can you give me a minute, Ivy?” she groaned. “Who’s with you?” She was hoping she didn’t say Valow, because that psycho would shoot through Ivy to kill her, so she’d have to abort her escape.