by Justin Bell
********
Gary Irizarry lowered his head and shifted his broad shoulders right to left as the crotch rocket he was driving dipped dangerously close to the road and swept around a tall building, then surged forward down the mostly vacant side street. The Kawasaki's engines screamed in the late morning air, bouncing off the walls of the two rundown brick apartment buildings he flew between at faster than safe speeds. At his hip, his smartphone thrummed with a warning of an incoming text message.
Irizarry stepped his massive frame from the bike seat, and slipped the helmet off his dark, skinned bald head. The orange flames on the helmet almost exactly matched the dark black flame tattoos he had going across each side of his head, just above his ears. His mouth, surrounded by a thin goatee, snarled as he pulled the phone from the clasp on his belt. He glanced at it and smiled questioningly. Four-week assignment? In Vermont? The fuck was in Vermont? But the two words at the end of the text really got his attention. Big Payout. Okay, he liked those words. He knew he already had a few security bookings in the next four weeks, but that was Reggie's problem, not his.
After over a decade in ESU, the Emergency Services Unit (New York's version of Special Weapons and Tactics), Irizarry had decided the real money was in the private sector, and he took his military-grade talents out for hire. Brooklyn Security and Protection had been his best contract source by far, and he and about ten of his closest buddies worked for them almost exclusively. Most of the gigs were straightforward and easy? nightclub security, protecting a visiting actor or music artist, that type of stuff. Nobody had been hurt on Irizarry's watch, and he never planned to let that streak be broken. Slipping the black helmet back over his bald head, Irizarry swung his tree trunk leg over the motorcycle, causing it to sag slightly as his full 235-pound muscular frame eased down on top of it.
Four-week rotation? Guess I'd better pack my bags. He gunned the throttle and the bike shot forward into the warm morning air.