Chapter #6The New Centurions by: Seuzz   Don't bother screaming for your old friends, Ray. Chances are, it'll just be one of my homeboys already inside their bodies.
So you'd taunted Ray Robert Sullivan after swapping identities him. But that was just a bit of spiteful revenge. It really is just you and Terry Kipper.
"So where's this shit you've been taking off dealers," you ask him as you trudge back to the prowler.
"Christ, Knotts," he snorts. "That was just a— I mean, Christ, Ray," he corrects himself after you shoot him a look. "That was a just a story to get you out here to the swap point."
"You mean Mack earned that DEA job on his own?"
"I dunno. Maybe he was getting some help."
"Musta been. Fucker couldn't find his pecker with both hands and a flashlight." You clamber into the car, shut the door with a thud; run a fingertip across some of the console buttons. You catch Danny looking at you. "You know, planting some hard stuff on some of these cocksuckers we pick up, that's not a bad idea," you muse. "And if you got guys we could lean on— Well, if we were gonna be here awhile—"
"You always do that, you know that, Knotts? And I mean Knotts, Ray, because I'm not talking about the way you always gotta dust the car before starting it."
You give him a look as you twist the key. "So what are you talking about?" you ask over the roar of the engine as you back away from the Fane-owned warehouse.
"The way you always case out a new face, figure out something you could do with it long term. Remember that college girl, what was her name, back in Eugene last year? You figured you could turn her into a model or something. Posted those pictures online—"
"That was just to get her boyfriend upset, so he wouldn't be all over me." Your eyes dart across the urban landscape, looking for guys in need of hassling, as you crawl slowly through the industrial district. But the weather is turning bad—heavy snowfall is expected before nightfall—and there's hardly any foot traffic. "And it worked. They actually broke up after I was gone."
"Still, you were thinking what you could do with her."
"And right now I'm thinking you should shut up. I got serious thinking to do."
"About what? How you're going to get into the lieutenant's pants before we're done with these faces? Oh, I've seen the way you look at her, Ray," Danny chortles as you glare at him.
"No, I'm thinking about how we're going to deal with Banks. We only got two hours before the briefing—"
"Outta character, Knotts," he laughs again. "Ray don't know about the briefing—"
"I do. He does."
Danny turns sharply toward you. "It's unscheduled! The captain don't even know."
"Oh, he knows. That's who told Ray to be sure to be back at the station house by one."
"Fuck me, how does Ray always manage to—?"
"Shut up. I told you I got thinking to do."
"What's to think about?" Danny cries. "We get Zack alone and do the switch. With these faces—"
"You think it'll be that easy? Banks taught us everything we know, Kips. If anyone could spot us coming—"
"Maybe he taught you everything you know," Danny retorts. "And what's Zack know about masks? He never got into any of 'em. He ever tell you why that was?"
"No." Flurries cross the windshield, and you turn the wipers on. "Did he tell you?"
"Uh uh. All I know is he had a serious allergy to them. And he was outta Diana before the tats got rolled out. So how's he gonna see us coming?"
"Because he was our supervisor for five years and knows how we operate! Jesus! And he knows we're coming, so he's going to be paranoid." You feel your chest constricting. "You remember what Banks was like when he got jumpy."
Now Danny turns sideways in his seat. "What haven't you been telling me, Knotts? How would Zack know we're coming?"
You've reached one of the big boulevards by now, but the sleet has started to come down thick, so you take it slow. "Okay, first of all, I didn't tell you any of this, because no one told me. Like Sullivan, I got my own ways of finding things out." Danny remains silent. "Anyway, he's gonna be expecting something, because you and I are the fifth team that's been sent after Nzingha. None of the other four made it back."
"Damn," Danny says. "Were any of the others from Diana?"
"No. They started with some mercs and ramped it up with each cock up. Last squad came out of Nerio—"
"And they still fucked it up?" Like you, Danny is wearing shades, but you can easily imagine his eyes popping.
"It's Nerio, of course they fucked it up."
"So it was their fuck up—"
"Christ, Kips! I don't know! I'm not supposed to know they went in at all, so it's not like I got to read the after-action report. But it was Nerio, so you can imagine—"
"Yeah, I can imagine. Shoot me in the face. So why didn't they give us the job from the get go instead of fapping around with the other services?" Danny lightly beats his door with his fist. "We're the real pros, everyone else is just— And if we're going up against Zack, you want to put the A team on it, don't you?"
"I dunno. Maybe that's why they tried every other tactic first. Because Banks will know all of our tricks but he wouldn't know theirs."
"They use a team from Spartacus on one of the attempts?"
"That I don't know, but I'd assume so. The point is, don't make any assumptions about this job. Except you should assume that Banks is going to be expecting someone from Diana to make a play sooner or later, and this trip to the States is the obvious time to do it."
A silence—broken only by the squeak of windshield wipers and some heavy sighing from Danny—fills the cab. "He may be expecting Diana, but d'you think he'll be expecting you and me?" Danny finally says.
"I dunno. But if he is, I wouldn't count on him showing any special favors."
* * * * *
You're back at the station in plenty of time for the briefing you're not supposed to know anything about, and waste the balance with some paperwork and gossip. At a quarter after, the intercom sounds to tell your unit to assemble in fifteen minutes, and you grab some coffee on the way to the briefing pen. The captain's door is open, and you lean in to ask him what it's about. "You'll hear it with the rest of them," he says brusquely.
"But you wanted me back special for it."
"Because I knew you'd be screwing around in the back if I didn't tell you."
You take a prime seat up front. Danny is already there, and the two of you exchange a few bawdy jokes in loud voices, as though you hadn't shared most of the morning in a squad car together.
At two-thirty precisely Captain Lamarque marches in and raps the room to silence. "Okay, people, vacation time is over. We got a VIP blowing into town next week." Murmured cheers—with only a few sarcastic groans mixed in—go up. "I know, I know, but it's gonna be like a late Christmas present for you guys. It's the perfect job, the president of a pissant little place no cares about. That means lotsa chances for you bozos to swing your dicks around, but no threats expected, because this guy ranks somewhere below an Albany city alderman in global importance."
You keep your face totally straight.
"This guy have a name," a voice calls from behind you.
"Joseph Nzingha," says the captain. "I think I'm saying that right. He's the president of the Republic of Cabinda—"
"Where's that?"
"Between Ebola and your ass," a third voice pipes up.
"Knock it off," Captain Lamarque says as hoarse laughter breaks out. "It's somewhere in Africa. Google it if you think it'll pay off on your next Trivia Night." More waves of laughter. "He's here to meet with Janet Bresson, who's a deputy assistant under-secretary of state or some shit like that, which again tells you what a lightweight this cocksucker this. But—" The captain can't resist breaking into a shark-like grin. "We're a bunch of hospitable sons of bitches, ain't we, so we're gonna make him feel like the fucking premier of China, and fuck anyone who gets in our way."
Hoots, whistles, and hand claps—your own included—erupt.
"Alright, this asshole runs a patch of real estate that's approximately as valuable as my back yard, but he thinks he rates a chief of security, and that guy's gonna be in my office tomorrow morning. Him you don't fuck around with. He's an American, ex-military, ex-Special Forces or something, so he's gonna see through any shit you try to pull. When it comes right down to it, he's the one you gotta impress."
Danny's hand shoots up. "This guy have a name?"
"Isaac Banks, if it means anything to you. Now—"
"No shit, it's Zack?" Danny exclaims.
"Shut up, Barone," the captain says. "I'm sure this guy will have ideas on what's to be done, but we—"
There follows a fast and punchy ten-minute briefing on what Lamarque expects from the squad. He then dismisses everyone but Barone; you linger to listen.
"Yeah, I did some work with Banks before he left for Africa," Barone tells the captain, shaking his head in wonder at the coincidence. "Been a couple of years since we emailed, but we did keep in touch for awhile."
"Interesting," says Lamarque. "We need a liaison, and I'd just as soon it not be me. Knock on my door tomorrow at ten-thirty."
You and Barone exit together. He holds out his hand for a fist-bump; you decline it, though of course you're pleased that things are unfolding exactly as you'd planned. You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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