Noble Intentions: Season One

by L. T. Ryan

Clarissa waved off Jack’s protest. “I’ll be quiet.”

  “But you know I can’t be,” he said with a wry smile.

  They found the couch and fell into one another.

  3

  Clarissa awoke as the sun peeked through a crack in the curtains, casting long fingers of light across her body. She sat up, reached her arms out and opened her eyes to find herself alone. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered as she stood. Her head throbbed from the combination of sex, alcohol and lack of sleep.

  She walked to the back of the apartment to see if Jack was in the bathroom or had slipped into her bed. She had been told that she snored. It wasn’t all that uncommon for her lovers to sneak off and find a quiet place to sleep.

  There was a note on the bedroom door. She read it to herself:

  Clarissa,

  Sorry, I have to take care of something this morning. Watch over Mandy for me. Back by evening.

  Jack

  “Son of a bitch,” she said again.

  She opened the bedroom door a crack and peeked in to check on Mandy. Covers hugged the little girl as she lay sleeping. Clarissa went back to the kitchen and grabbed her cell phone. She searched for Jack’s number. It was in there a few days ago, but she couldn’t find it now. He must have erased his number from her phone before he left. She rolled her eyes at the thought.

  “Momma?”

  Clarissa slammed her phone down and bit her lip in frustration. She turned to see Mandy standing there looking timid.

  “Where’s my momma? Where’s Mr. Jack?”

  “Jack had to go out for a bit sweetie. He’s looking for your mom.”

  “Who are you? Are you Mrs. Jack?”

  Clarissa laughed. “No, baby, but we are really good friends.”

  “That means you’re my friend, too,” Mandy said.

  Clarissa smiled at her. Things are so simple for children. “Are you hungry?”

  “Mmhm.” Mandy rubbed her belly.

  Clarissa poured a bowl of cereal, sat it in front of the child. “Now eat up. We got to get you cleaned up. Can’t have your momma show up with you looking all a mess.”

  Mandy looked up and smiled at her with a mouth full of cereal and milk. The milk trickled down her chin as she grinned. Clarissa couldn’t help but laugh, which resulted in milk and cereal spraying across the table as the little girl joined in. Their laughter was disrupted by a loud knock on the door.

  4

  Jack pressed the gun into the back of Lester’s head. The man kneeled down on the ground, feet crossed, arms tied behind his back, his face just inches away from the cold, grey wall. Lester struggled to keep his head from touching the wall. Jack had told him if he touched it, he was dead.

  The dimly lit cellar had a single yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It swayed slightly, casting shadows side to side.

  “I… I don’t know any more than what I told you, Jack,” Lester said.

  “For some reason I just don’t believe that, Lester.” Jack looked back at Bear and nodded.

  Riley “Bear” Logan was Jack’s partner on most of his assignments. Bear was a big man, as one would guess based on his nickname. He stood at six foot six and weighed in at over three hundred pounds. He had a big, bushy brown beard and a heavy brow. He’d had Jack’s back since they were 19 years old, fresh out of Marine recruit training.

  Lester’s teeth chattered and his body convulsed every ten seconds or so.

  There was a time when Jack would have felt sorry for the poor bastard. Those days were long gone. In fact, it had only taken a few civilian kills to cleanse him of any feelings of remorse. Today all he wanted was a name. He really didn’t care if he killed Lester or if he let him walk out of the cell. But killing him would only be fair, since Lester sure as hell didn’t care that Bear nearly died a month ago due to Lester’s recklessness.

  “Lester, I just need a name. Any name that leads me to him. You got in contact with him to set up that job. How did that happen? Don’t try and tell me telepathy or some mystical bullshit.”

  “They’ll kill me, Jack.”

  “I’ll kill you, Lester.”

  Lester bowed his head. “Do what you gotta do then. At least you’ll be quick about it. Those guys will torture me and probably kill my family too.” His voice shook the entire time. Bravery did not befit him. He made a better computer geek than a spy.

  “Why are you protecting these people?”

  “Protecting them? I don’t give a damn about them. I’m protecting my wife, my kids,” replied Lester.

  Jack remained silent, pushed the barrel of his gun into the back of Lester’s head.

  “You’re a killer, Jack, but you won’t go after my family.”

  Jack smiled. He would go after Lester’s family if it got him what he wanted. And Lester knew enough about Jack to know that. “What if I could offer you protection until this mess is cleaned up?”

  “How? I thought you worked alone now?”

  “Plenty of people owe me favors,” Jack replied.

  Just then his cell phone rang. Christ, how did she find my number? He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t Clarissa. He didn’t recognize the number at all.

  He walked out of the cellar and told Bear to keep an eye on Lester. Bear was the only person other than Clarissa that Jack trusted. They had worked together as independent contractors for the last ten years and Bear had saved his life at least a dozen times. In another life the two were soldiers. Trained killers. But now they killed for profit.

  “Who is this?” asked Jack.

  “Hello, Mr. Jack.”

  He recognized the voice. “You ready to finish this deal?”

  “What business have you with Lester, Mr. Jack?”

  Jack climbed the stairs and peeked out the tall, skinny windows next to the front door. “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Mr. Jack, you know I have eyes and ears everywhere. Don’t try to bullshit me,” the old man said.

  “My business with Lester is my business. I don’t work for you.”

  “As you wish. Mr. Jack, all I want is the briefcase. I want to complete our deal.”

  “You left me out there to hang yesterday. Why should I trust you now?”

  The old man laughed. “Trust? This is about money, Mr. Jack. Not trust.”

  “Where do you want to meet?” Jack asked while peeking into the cellar.

  “The city is too hot right now. Your face is all over the news. Something about kidnapping a girl and attacking a cop. The horror.”

  “Christ, damn tourists with their damn camera phones.” Jack would have to use another favor to clean this up. “Ok, so where then?”

  “I will be in touch soon, Mr. Jack,” the old man replied. “Oh, and give my regards to Mr. Lester. Tell him his wife and kids didn’t suffer, they went in their sleep.”

  Jack was silent. He worked out what had happened in his head. The old man must have had guys at Lester’s house or tailing Bear. The men saw Bear go in and come back out with Lester. As soon as Bear left, they went in and killed Lester’s family.

  They probably have pictures of Bear going in and leaving with Lester and can use those to pin the murders on him. What a friggin’ mess.

  “Your silence is confirmation enough for me Mr. Jack. Goodbye.”

  The line went silent. Jack stood in the doorway and nodded at Bear.

  The big man walked toward him. “What’s the deal?”

  “Seems Lester pissed off a lot of people.”

  “How so?” Bear asked

  “That was the old man,” Jack stepped back and closed the door. The cellar was soundproof as long as the door was shut. “He had Lester’s family taken care of.”

  “You don’t think he’s behind—“

  “No,” Jack said. “It’s something else. Wait here.”

  Jack stepped into the cellar. “You ready to give me a name?” He positioned himself behind Lester.

  “I told
you Jack, I got nothing.”

  “You know who that was?” Jack asked. He didn’t wait for Lester to answer. “That was the old man. You pissed a lot of people off, Lester. A lot of damn people.”

  This was a game to Jack. Whether or not Lester gave him a name, Jack was going to kill him. He’d be doing Lester a favor. Lester’s family was dead and the poor bastard would be devastated when he found out their fate. Besides, the old man would kill Lester if Jack didn’t, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be quick or painless. Why not save him the pain of knowing his family had been murdered?

  “Do it!” Lester shouted.

  Jack grabbed a piece of plexiglass to shield his body from the blood spray. He preferred to stay clean whenever possible. He fired one bullet into the back of Lester’s head and stepped back.

  Lester’s body slumped forward against the cinder block wall, slowly falling against the wall, leaving a trail of blood.

  Jack opened the door and waved Bear in the room. “Take care of that.”

  Jack didn’t know exactly what Bear would do after he left the room, but Lester’s body would never be found. That was good enough for him.

  “Did you get it?” Bear asked.

  “No,” Jack said. “Maybe the old man knows. I’ll find out when I complete this deal.”

  Bear nodded.

  Jack climbed the stairs, noticed blood stains on his shirt. He rolled his eyes and ducked into the bathroom to wash up and change before leaving the building. They each kept a change of clothes in the linen closet. Jack grabbed a casual outfit, baseball hat and a pair of sunglasses.

  He made a call to an associate who could modify the footage the news was showing and get some of the heat off of him.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Brandon. It’s Jack.” He put the phone on speaker so he could change and talk at the same time.

  “Jesus, Jack. Your face is all over the news. What the hell you got yourself into?”

  “Yeah, about that… I need a favor.”

  “I’m already on it. But you are gonna owe me big time for this one. I’m talking a free job type favor.”

  “You got it.” Jack hung up the phone and cursed to himself. Then he made his way to 52nd Street to find Mandy’s mom.

  5

  “You think he took care of Lester?”

  “I really don’t care,” the old man replied. “I pay my men to kill. If Mr. Jack didn’t kill him, then they will.”

  Charles laughed. “I see your point, Boss.” He sat back and thought for a second, rubbing his temples with his large fingers. “Hey, what are we going to do about Jack?”

  “Oh, I have plans for Mr. Jack.” The old man smiled and clapped his bony hands together. “Big plans.”

  “Care to elaborate?” Charles leaned in closer to the old man.

  The old man’s smile broadened. “When the time comes, Mr. Charles, you will have all the details. For now, get your smelly breath out of my face.”

  Charles sat back in his seat. He held his hand in front of his face and exhaled into it, checking to see how bad his breath smelled. He thought about pressing his boss for more information, but he knew that wouldn’t go over well. He’d seen his boss have men killed for less. No, now was not the time, the old man had made that clear. But as soon as the old man decided to confide in him, Charles would be ready. He’d proven that over the last ten years.

  The old man turned his head away and Charles thought back to his first couple of years working for the old man…

  ***

  He started off working as a mechanic for the old man. One thing that was different about this crime boss. He provided cars for his guys. And he always wanted his cars to be in top shape. He had a team of mechanics available 24 hours a day. Charles had never been involved in any criminal activity before this. He took the job for the pay. He had no idea who the old man was or what his business was, but he liked the idea of being a private mechanic. It sounded official.

  He worked in the garage for two years. He was a good employee, kept his head down, and did his work. By this point he knew what was really going on and so did the other mechanics. Most of them knew before they took the job. Typically, the mechanics that worked for the old man were relatives of his more trusted employees. Only the mechanics didn’t have what it took to be a killer, at least the type of killers that could get away with murder. For some it was a mental thing. Either they were careless or they were incapable of pulling the trigger or swinging a bat. For others it was physical. They’d be killed on their first assignment. But they all shared one common trait. They all thought they were bad asses.

  Charles ignored the banter and bullshitting that went on every day at work. Some of the other mechanics were offended by this and made remarks off to the side that Charles was too good for them. Individually, they would never think about confronting Charles. At six foot six and two hundred eighty pounds, he was massive. If he hadn’t dropped out of school he would have gone to the University of Miami on a football scholarship.

  One day, four of the other mechanics decided they had enough of Charles and his my shit don’t stink attitude. They circled him with a plan to attack, all of them armed with tools. It didn’t take long for Charles to realize what was going on. This wasn’t the first time he’d been jumped. It wouldn’t be the last.

  Charles didn’t wait for the other mechanics to make their move. Those four dumbasses never stood a chance. He killed two of them and put the other two in the hospital. The injuries were so bad that the old man was able to blame it on a car lift collapsing. The police asked no questions. Of course, that was nothing new when the old man was involved.

  The old man reviewed the footage of the fight. He liked what he saw and summoned Charles to his office. Charles was scared as he entered. He had twelve inches and one hundred twenty pounds on the old man. But he knew that men sometimes entered that office and didn’t leave under their own power. The old man was vicious and ruthless, which is exactly why he was one of the most powerful crime bosses on the east coast.

  “Mr. Charles,” the old man said. He sat with the back of his chair facing the doorway. “Please come in and have a seat.”

  Charles sank down in the chair, his heart racing. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “What is this sir talk? Just call me Boss.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, Boss.”

  “I heard about the garage incident. You killed four of my mechanics.”

  “Boss, I... I’m sorry about that. They left me no choice. They surrounded me. They were all armed with tools. I guess my, my instincts kicked in.”

  The old man spun around in his chair and glanced to the corner of the room, giving the man standing there a nod.

  Charles tightened up and shut his eyes. He expected to feel the cold barrel of a gun press against the top of his head any second now. He raised his shoulders and hunched over slightly when he heard the door shut.

  The old man laughed. “Mr. Charles, if I wanted you dead you would already be gone. Why would I invite you into my office to kill you?”

  Charles slowly rose up and looked at the old man. The smile looked genuine, and he was still alive. He turned his head and saw that the room was empty. “You… You’re not going to kill me?”

  “Kill you? God, no! I want to promote you, Mr. Charles.”

  “Promote me? What?”

  “Those four men you killed,” said the old man, “they were not just mechanics. They were a hit team. I used them for jobs that had to look amateur. The kind of hits that would be too easy to pin on me if done by a professional. Do you understand?”

  Charles shook his head at the old man.

  “I know you are not stupid, Mr. Charles, so I will get right to the point. You took out four trained killers and suffered barely a scratch. I want you to be my bodyguard. You will drive my limo and accompany me all day, every day. Do you understand?”

  This time Charles nodded. “Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Boss.” He didn’t have a c
hoice. If he said no, the old man would kill him. Even though he liked working in the garage, this was a chance to be in the action.

  ***

  The car hit a pothole and Charles’s head bumped into the roof as the Mercedes bounced. The pain on the top of his head was enough to bring his attention back to Jack and the current situation. “He’s become a pain in the ass. Jack, that is.”

  “But an efficient pain in the ass, Mr. Charles,” the old man said. “Much like yourself.” He grinned.

  Charles chuckled while rubbing the top of his head. “I just don’t see where he gets off being so arrogant. I wish you would let me—“

  “Mr. Charles,” the old man interrupted. “When the time comes, if the time should come, you will get the go ahead. For now, quit talking about Mr. Jack. It is giving me indigestion.”

  “Ok, Boss. What do you think about Thai for dinner?”

  The old man looked at him and smiled. “Good choice, Mr. Charles.”

  6

  Jack’s questioning cellar wasn’t too far from the address Mandy had given him. He figured the little girl and her mother didn’t have much, judging by the neighborhood and condition of the building. The neighborhood was a known rough area, with far too many drug pushers, addicts, and prostitutes. He wondered if Mandy’s mother was one of those, or maybe all three.

  He entered the old building and balked at the smell of stale urine. “Damn bums,” he muttered under his breath. There was no security in a building like this. Anyone could sneak in at night and sleep in the halls. These buildings had no public restrooms, so the derelicts would just urinate in the hallway. The supers of these buildings didn’t give a damn, so the whole place stunk to high hell.

  The elevator had an Out of Order sign posted on it. Probably for the best, Jack figured. Who would want to get stuck in an elevator in a place like this? He pushed the door to the stairwell open, heard the sounds of a prostitute servicing a man underneath the concrete steps. He imagined the prostitute was a woman, but he knew he couldn’t be sure of that. Around these parts, people would do anything to get their next fix.