Charity's Warrior

by Unknown

  "Let's go," I say at l last.

  Lena taps on the window, and we feel the car jerk into gear.

  "It's hard to comprehend what he's actually doing today."

  Lena agrees with me by nodding her head. After two weeks of gathering data, we have our next Senator. Scott Lewis is Justin's pick. He was dead on about the gambling problem. Lewis has a wave of debt climbing and catching up behind him. Nothing he has access to is safe, including his campaign funds. We can easily keep him addicted and out of trouble.

  Justin was meeting the group of clients in DC. This time he didn't want me anywhere around him; this group was too powerful to take any chances. On Justin's word, they are going to make Scott Lewis the next Senator—it isn't even a question for them. They trust him more than each other.

  "He's picking a Senator, no election to be concerned about," I continue.

  "I don't think it will stop there," Lena adds. "Lewis has a great political record. He's young, respected. Given the time, four or five years at least, we might have a president under our thumb."

  That's so hard to conceive, I just can't get my head around it. How the fuck did I end up in this? A few months ago I was nothing more than a small town cliché. Now I've been shot, ordered an execution, and helped select a possible future presidential candidate.

  My hands begin shaking and I try to hide it from Lena, forcing them into fists in the seat cushions at my sides.

  Nothing really gets by her, though. She hits the call button on the seat in front of her. "Tony?"

  There's a quick static click. "Yes, Miss Croft?"

  "Change of plans. Silk, 47 West 13th Street, please."

  Tony doesn't bother replying. He'll go wherever she says to.

  "I'll let them know we're coming," she says as she taps out a text on her phone.

  "What is "Silk?’”

  Lena simply smiles as she sends her message.

  "Seriously, tell me," I demand.

  She laughs again, teasing me. "It's one of the more popular day spas in the city," she finally answers.

  "Oh. Wait, and there's no waiting list for someplace like that?"

  "For us—no. Everyone else, yes, a long one. Right now I'm guessing someone is getting the disappointing news that their appointment has been bumped and they need to reschedule," Lena said, looking more than comfortable with that.

  "That's terrible," I tell her.

  "Yes," she replies, "it sucks—for them. Just wait until the first time it happens to you and you won't feel so bad about doing it anymore. That's the city for you."

  That look crosses her face again.

  "Right now we need a little girl time," she says.

  Whatever she is holding back, it's really tearing her up inside. And my hands are still shaking. She's right, we need a little time. I'm feeling very overwhelmed and out of place.

  "Are you okay?" I ask her.

  "Just dandy," she says, joking.

  Her phone notification goes off. "They're ready whenever we get there," she said after reading the text.

  We don't talk much more for the ride. We both are hypnotized watching the rain running sideways on our windows. It seems to be washing the color out of the city.

  Tony pulled into a garage and parked. I noticed the attendants never bothered to come over, and Tony hadn't stopped for a ticket. It was crazy that a space right near the exit was empty and waiting, and I have feeling Panther might own the garage.

  "We don't have to pay here?" I ask.

  Lena shakes her head. "Not here, this is one of Justin's. We have two in the city, one in Hoboken, Jersey City, and Newark."

  "I had a feeling."

  "They're a good place to swap or hide a car, safe for meeting people we don't trust, but surprisingly, they're incredibly profitable, especially if you own the building. Low overhead, minimal insurance and staff."

  Makes since.

  "Justin owns the building, too?"

  She simply smiles through a nod.

  "Silk is just a block from here. Bring your umbrella," Lena says.

  Then she does something a bit strange. One of her slender, black hands pulls out her cell and drops it in the seat. Her eyes motion to me, begging me to do the same.

  "We don't need interruptions," she says, but her eyes are telling me it's more important than that.

  I follow suit, even though I don't understand it. It's Lena; she knows what the fuck she's doing. If she wants us to leave our phones, then I do it.

  We climb out of the car and open umbrellas as we leave through the mouth of the garage. Lena's long gait seems exceptionally long today, and I feel like I'm jogging to keep up.

  Typical of New York, it wasn't much to see outside, but it was beautiful as we rush in, closing and shaking off the umbrellas. A middle-aged woman is bustling up to greet us before the young man at the reception desk has a chance.

  "Miss Croft, so good to see you," she squawks. "Come right around."

  She fixes her brown hair behind her ear while she waits for us to swing around the counter. I'm dying to ask Lena what is going on, why we left our phones, but it seems it will be a bit before we are alone.

  "This is Charity Powers," Lena tells her. "Make sure she's taken care of better than me."

  There are smiles, but I think they are more serious than they seem. Lena tells them we will have massages first, and then body wraps and facials. Anna, as I find out is her name, gives us bathrobes and leads us to the changing room, telling us she'll be waiting outside to take us to the next station.

  Finally, we are alone.

  "You look like you're busting at the seams," Lena teases.

  "Well—yeah!"

  She laughs as she undresses. It's not her strongest laugh, riddled with nerves and uneasiness. It's making me worse than I was.

  "This place is just for us," she says. "So you can be comfortable here, say whatever you want. Maybe just don't use last names when the staff is working on you, and save the heavy stuff for when we're alone."

  "Okay, but you're starting to freak me out."

  "I'm sorry," she says honestly. "I don't mean to be. I just have a few things to tell you—and they need to be between us only."

  "Of course," I tell her, still not understanding the need for the cloak and dagger.

  "Justin can't know what we've talked about. Really, he shouldn't even know we're talking, so he doesn't have to worry about why. That's why I wanted us to leave our phones," she says.

  My face tells her I'm lost. Her face tells me I shouldn't be, that I'm missing the obvious.

  "Where do you work, Charity?" she asks. "More importantly, what do they do there? What does Justin specialize in?"

  It's espionage, mostly technical.

  And there's my answer!

  "He can listen on our phones?" I ask.

  "It's called cloning. He can also track your location as long as the device is on," she says, putting her clothes in a locker near the one I'm putting my things in. "This is a good time to talk to you, while he's in the air. Understand—I'm not telling you he is spying on you, just that he can. And with you, I think he does."

  "He doesn't trust me?" the insult not hidden at all in my tone.

  "That's not it at all!" she snaps. "He trusts you. He adores you, Charity, that's never going to be the problem."

  "Then why?" I demand, wrapping the robe around my body and stuffing my feet into the slippers that I found in the pockets of the robe.

  "He's never careless, Charity. He knows what he does, who he associates with—it's all very dangerous. And after that thing with your ex," her voice dropped carefully, "he's so protective of you. He would rather die than have anything happen to you."

  Now I am calmer.

  "He didn't want you to know this. He's so afraid it will scare you off. I saw the look in your eyes at the airport. You're already scared," she said.

  "So why tell me?"

  "I think you're strong enough to handle it. I think you just need to
know, so you can prepare," she answered.

  "There's something else, too," I said as she put on her slippers. "Something you want me to know. I saw it in your face. You needed me to know this so you can tell me something else."

  Lena is silent, eyes on me.

  "Yes," she says finally, turning and walking out of the room.

  I find her in the hall with the host, both smiling and waiting for me. Lena is completely unbothered by my frustrated glare as we are led down the hall to another room that has two massage tables waiting with a masseuse for each of us. We climb on and they begin.

  "When I was twenty-two," Lena starts, "I fell in love with a man that we were working with on the legitimate side of the business. His company had begun hemorrhaging money, seemingly for no reason. Sales were up, there had been no change in the prices or business model, so he suspected some staff had found a way to circumvent their security. He was right, we found them within three months, but that's not why I brought him up."

  No, I didn't think it was.

  "He signed on with us permanently, in fact, his company is still with us now, but he sold it a few years ago."

  I really don't have much more patience. She keeps giving me more questions and no answers.

  "We were very hot there for a while. I think we were having sex more often than we were eating," she giggled as she remembered.

  "What did he look like?" I asked.

  "A god," she said. "Light brown skin, and hazel eyes, not a common combination. He was muscular, not so much as Justin, but he looked like an athlete, like a baseball player. He has an eagle tattoo that runs from one shoulder, across his back, to the other shoulder."

  "Oh, I love that," I breathed, feeling relaxed from the deep rubdown I'm getting.

  "Right?" Lena giggles again. "He was powerful, hot looking, successful."

  "So what happened?" I asked.

  "Work happened," she said, her voice low and sad.

  "Justin wanted you to break it off?"

  "No, not at all. He was happy for me, said I deserved it," she answers, her voice staying sad.

  "Then what?"

  I had to wait a moment as our masseuses had us flip to our backs.

  "It was six months in," she continued. "We were getting very serious, engagement serious, which meant less time on our other operations. I was primarily in the office, and Justin was convincing me that it was fine. I thought that I could do both, I loved both, the job and Terrence, and I wanted it all. He was amazing to me. I had never felt love like that."

  "And what happened? Did your work put Terrence in danger?"

  "No—Justin and the team. I almost got them all killed."

  Not what I was expecting.

  "I was with Terence and missed a call. They needed me and I wasn't there. Three of them were hurt, including Justin. That was the bad part. Justin had never let me down, ever, and I almost got him killed. He wasn't mad, but I was, and I ended it with Terrence that night."

  "Why would you do that?" I practically shouted.

  "I won't say there isn't a part of me that regrets it, because there is," she said softly. "It might have been my only chance for real love. But the fact is, Terrence had been there for six months, Justin was there for most of my life. Terrence was hurt. I was devastated, and worse, I had to pretend I wasn't."

  My heart hurts for her. "Did you ever see him again?"

  "No, never. That's long over with," she said. "I dedicated myself to Justin and the job. I learned to live with it and decided long ago that none of us were meant for a regular relationship. Not one of us has ever been with anyone long. Couple of the guys got married—all divorced now. As long as we do what we do, it didn't seem possible."

  "This isn't making me feel any better, Lena. You're telling me Justin and I can't make it, that we won't last."

  "No! That's not it at all, Charity," she snapped. "You and Justin—you have given me my hope back!"

  A silent moment passes as she calms herself. These massages are mostly wasted on us. There's too much stress in the air.

  "Watching you two, I believe it can be done. Maybe it can't be done with the job, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel now. Justin won't let you go, Charity. He would sooner give up the company, at least the dangerous part," she says, now sounding almost enthusiastic.

  "So how does that help?" I ask.

  "Because, if you two can make it work, then I can. If you can do it on the job, I can too. I'm not sure that's realistic, but if it works, you two set the path. If it can't work, Justin will retire, and that's even better for me," she says.

  "You’re not making sense. How is Justin retiring good for you?"

  Lena didn't take a second to respond. "Because when he goes, I go. I'm only in this until Justin is done. If something happens to him, the plan is for me to take over long enough to train a new General. If Justin were to retire, I would help him with replacements for both of us."

  "So if we make it while he's still running things, you might try again. If he retires, you are completely free," I repeat.

  No pressure!

  "I see the doubt in your eyes, saw it earlier, and I don't want you to have doubt, Charity. I know you pretty well. I know you're a fighter. You do better knowing what you're up against, rather than having everyone pussy foot around you. I wouldn't do this if it wasn't real, if what you have with Justin was anything less than destiny and genuine love."

  "Because we'd fail," I said, understanding.

  "Exactly! I was fine giving up my love life for Justin, for my friend, but seeing him, watching him love you so damn much...I want that, Charity. He was the furthest a human could be from love, and to see him now, it creates possibilities. Maybe I can have that too."

  This morning was turning into an emotional rollercoaster.

  "I'm so tired of having fuck buddies, Charity. I want to go home to somebody that gives a shit about me."

  I don't tell her, but the emotions have built a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I think Lena is spent now. She's silent, letting the masseuse do her work.

  "I feel overwhelmed," I tell her. "I think you get why. You started this thing with him, grew into it. For me, a few months ago I didn't believe these things happened anywhere but on TV and in the movies. Now it's real and somehow I'm involved. This is not what I had planned when I dreamed of coming to the city."

  "I understand," Lena says cautiously.

  "But I'm no quitter. I don't like to run from anything. And, honestly, I don't think I could ever quit Justin," I tell her. "I feel different with him, and I know I don't want to be without him."

  "I'm glad," Lena says.

  We don't say much else for the rest of the massage, letting the girls do their jobs, letting ourselves relax. When they finish, they leave us so we can gather ourselves back into our robes and slippers.

  The host is waiting for us when we come out into the hall. "Ready for your body wraps?" she asks.

  "Absolutely," Lena breaths.

  I thought she would look better now, more at ease than before, but that's not the case. That strange, uneasy expression has now settled on her almost permanently as we are led upstairs where two more women begin the wraps.

  "I know you're not done yet," I tell Lena.

  She looks at me at first as if to pretend she doesn't know I mean, but as I hold her gaze, she concedes. Her eyes slowly fall off my face.

  "Are you going to tell me what it is? You've been thinking about it all day," I add.

  "I haven't figured out if I should, or how if I'm going to," she says. "If I'm going to, I probably should get on with it. I won't always have the chance like this, with Justin stuck on a plane."

  Both girls doing the wraps are stunningly beautiful, so much so that I am feeling self-conscious. Justin would tell me they are too skinny—sticks, he calls them. One of them is Indian, though when she said hello a bit ago, there was no hint of an ascent. The girl focusing on me looks Russian, and did have the accent t
o prove it. They completely ignore us now, as they are trained to do.

  "There's no way you're not going to tell me now. My interest and concern is flared, and if you don't tell me, it's going to quickly become paranoia. If you can't find a way to say it, then just blurt it out, get it done," I tell her.

  "This one is not that simple," Lena explains. "It's not about you, but it's extremely dangerous, for me, and for you once I tell you."

  When I hear her voice shaking, her, the queen of scary-tough bitches, my pulse becomes a thump in my ears.

  "It's something I've carried for a long time, unsure of how, when, or if I should take care of it. I don't want to lose my friend, but it could make him better, whole," she says.

  I know she means Justin, but she hadn't really gotten to it yet.

  "Now that he has you, you need to know, you need to decide. I need you to take the burden from me. I've done and risked enough, and now it's not right if it comes from me," she continues.

  "Christ, Lena, well you fuckin' get to it already?"

  She suddenly hitches her breath and a tear falls from her eye. My stomach swirls. It's big, bigger than I expect.

  "I'm so sorry to put this on you," she cries. "You might be the only one that can get this done for him, but it might cost you."

  "Cost me what?" I beg.

  "The love of your life. It could cost you Justin."

  "I don't understand," I tell her.

  "You can decide to do nothing about this, I will respect your decision and it will die with me. The risk might be more than you want to take. If he finds out, he will be done with you—and me if he knows I started this."

  I can see my chest pumping from my heart. "If it's that bad, why would I do whatever it is? Why wouldn't it be better to forget about it?"

  "Because it's about his life, and everything he knows. You know that to be with you, he had to come to see that he was wrong about his father's suicide?"