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Authors: Bernard Lee DeLeo

BOOK: American Mutant
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The CIA recruited him after two stellar years with the Bureau. In their training program and evaluations, the CIA recognized a darker capability in Haynes. He simply did not feel anything. He could pretend better than any Oscar winning actor, but not well enough to fool his evaluators in the CIA. They managed to convince him his ploy would no longer be necessary, and he could begin to cultivate himself in another field of endeavor other than intelligence gathering. In the subsequent years in Nate’s department, Haynes excelled. There were of course others who were born with similar traits, along with men like Nate who were committed to their country. Haynes took a better offer when it came up and disappeared.

“Where you been keeping yourself Greg?” Nate asked smiling.

“Oh, you know Nate, here and there.”

“No Greg, I do not know. Why not tell us what this recon has to do with

us.”

“Might as well kill me then Nate, because I am not talking.”

Nate laughed. “You been around long enough to know better than that. My partner here specializes in interrogation. Why not save us some time and you some pain. We just have to make sure whoever sent you does not send anyone else.”

Haynes turned toward Connor. “I recognize you Connor. You disappeared, and supposedly got yourself killed in prison. I came into the Company a couple of years after you left.”

“Nate told me. You want to tell us what you had in mind?”

“Sure, I.” Haynes shot his right hand up with the intention of driving Nate’s nose bone into his brain. Nate stepped expertly to the side, caught Hayne’s wrist in his hand, and using Hayne’s forward motion, Nate had him slammed into the building wall with his arm up painfully behind his back.

“Geez Nate, you don’t even get any respect from the guys who used to work with you,” Connor commented. “No wonder you wanted a transfer.”

Nate nodded his head in amused agreement. “It is really pathetic Thomas. I have unfortunately spent years in a field where they think experience just pops into your mind one day. I find this highly insulting.”

“No offence meant.Nate,” Greg wheezed through the side of his mouth. “I just see nothing but bad here for me, and I had to take a shot.”

“You may call me Mr. Johnson, and you better let us decide on what bad means for you.”

“You’ll kill me anyway,” Haynes said. “Now who’s insulting who?”

“Nate never promised you a vacation home in Tahiti Greg,” Connor informed him patiently. “He never claimed you would survive, only that you might go out with a lot less pain.”

Connor motioned for Nate to let Haynes go. Nate let him go slowly as Connor came up and touched Haynes on the shoulder momentarily. Haynes dropped unconscious to the ground. His body writhed in a tight little ball he had drawn himself into.

“What the hell is that now Mutie,” Nate asked curiously, “a Vulcan Nerve Pinch?”

“I sent Mr. Haynes to a place for him to see something worse than death. He may not understand guilt, honor, right, wrong, or friendship, but when I bring him back he will understand what the phrase fate worse than death means.”

“Do you have any ideas about what to do with him when he does tell us what we want to know?” Nate asked.

“If he just acts as an enforcer for some big mob, I was thinking maybe we would lay some serious bread on him to go back and wipe them out.”

“I like it,” Nate grinned in appreciation. “I am betting he freelanced this job. What makes you think he won’t just come back and nuke us from orbit?”

“He will never want to come near us again Nate, ever.”

“You better never work that ju-ju on me Mutie. Is that how you get women to sleep with you too?”

Connor began to speak, and then he thought of Karen. By the time he thought of something, Nate was already laughing at him.

“Oh man, that’s cold Thomas. You put old Karen in the terror tank to soften her up didn’t you?”

“No Nate, I.it’s not what.I mean.” Connor gave up, as Nate only laughed harder.

Nate clapped him on the back. “Even Dracula doesn’t torture them first. You don’t have any designs on old Greg here do you Mutie?”

Connor sighed as Nate doubled over. He bent down and touched Haynes, bringing him back to consciousness. Haynes looked at him in horror. His teeth chattered in terror as he rubbed his hands up and down his shoulders and legs. When he was finally sure of his surroundings, Connor helped him to his feet. Nate looked closely at him.

“Did you enjoy your stay in hell Greg?” Nate asked. “As you can see, Thomas here can get you to tell us what we want to know sooner or later.”

“What are you,” Haynes asked Connor in a hushed tone.

“No one you want to know very well Greg,” Connor answered. “Now before you tell us what we want to know, remember this: I will know when you lie, and I will send you back to your special place. Do you understand?”

Hayne’s face darkened, and he shuddered. “I was contacted because of you guys moving into the area. You hired some of the street punks away from the gang, and people started dying.”

“We took care of the gang problem. Who exactly expressed interest in us now?” Nate asked.

“Do you know the Reverend Jeremiah Stanton?”

“That race baiter,” Nate said in disgust. “What the hell would that poverty pimp want with us? He hasn’t added drug dealing to his con, has he?”

“You know this Stanton Nate?” Connor asked.

“Sure, he blackmails corporations with guilt trips for money. He stirs up the black community with some trumped up garbage, and then moves in as a consultant to mediate. The blacks give him money thinking he represents them, and the company pays the extortion money to ward off a boycott.”

“Why in the world would he be sending a professional assassin out to do a number on us?” Connor asked in confusion.

“He has used me before,” Haynes told them. “He pays the rate in cash.”

“How much,” Nate asked.

“Twenty-five thousand and up,” Haynes answered.

Nate whistled, “poverty-pimping must be paying better than I thought.”

“I have helped a few high level executives suffer inconspicuous accidents,” Haynes explained. “Their respective companies refused to pay the fee Stanton gets as mediator. I have heard his fee for setting up a program to handle diversity training tops one million dollars.”

“Okay,” Connor said, “now why us? We only hired blacks.”

“He heard from one of his government sources about two Company guys setting up operations. Many of the black congressional members do his bidding, because he can get them defeated.”

Connor looked at Nate in exasperation and started to speak, but Nate held up his hand. “I know what you are going to say Thomas. We just have not killed enough people in this damn city, right?”

“Something like that,” Connor admitted. He looked at Haynes. “Greg, how would you like to make one million dollars tax free to handle a little assignment for Nate and I? You would of course have to retire afterwards for good, because if I ever saw your face or heard about you ever again, I would have to come and visit.”

“I will do it for free if you never send me down there again. I swear to God I.”

“Don’t bring God into this you atheistic twit,” Nate scolded him.

“I mean you will never hear from me again,” Haynes finished.

“I want you to deal with the Reverend for us, and find out who the hell gave Nate and I up. I still do not understand the game Nate. Tell me again why he wants us.”

“He uses the gangs Thomas,” Nate instructed. “He uses the mobs. He uses gun control. He uses race. He wants his finger in every extortion pie in town. He may want to set us up with a diversity-training program. The bottom line is he heard too much about us and figured he could make a buck somehow, or we were going to cut him out of a buck.”

“I guess I can live with that,” Connor replied reluctantly. “Anyway Greg, what about it? You want to rain on the Rev’s parade for us? You will get the money as long as I do not have to come for you.”

“I will do it, and I will make it look good too.”

Connor took a quarter out of his pocket, and closed his right hand on it with his eyes closed for a moment. He handed it to Greg. “Give this to him. After five minutes, touch his forehead. He will tell you anything you ask after that. Call me at this number when you have the information.” Connor gave him a card with his cell phone number on it. “I will meet you with the money, and we will say goodbye.”

Chapter 18 Justice
 

Haynes took the quarter and the card. He walked around Nate carefully, and kept going. Nate and Connor followed after a few minutes. They walked back to the limousine in silence. They reached the car and got in. Sammy and Henry were waiting expectantly.

“Drive Henry up to his door Sammy, and then take Nate and I back to the Lincoln. You can take the limo home tonight, and then pick up the other guys for work tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure Mr. Connor,” Sammy agreed, “but you saw my neighborhood. I don’t think it would be safe.”

Connor smiled. “Yes, it will, Sammy. A couple of your neighbors may be the worse for wear in the morning, but the limo will be fine.”

“What about that guy Mr. Connor?” Henry asked.

“He decided to leave,” Connor said, “and help us out a little with another project. You guys have to get used to not asking questions. If it concerns your safety, Nate and I will tell you about it. All you need to remember is to let me know if any of you ever see that guy again.”

Henry nodded, and Sammy started the car and took Henry home. He drove Nate and Connor to the business so they could get the Lincoln. Connor reminded Sammy to call him directly if he was rousted about the limousine, or he had any run-ins with the neighbors.

“Let’s just try it out tonight Sammy. If it won’t work, we will have to try something else. I just want you guys to have a reliable way to get to work, and get some practice in too. Nate and I will see you in the morning Sammy, tell your Grandma I said hi.”

“Okay Mr. Connor, see you Nate.”

“Goodnight Youngblood, be careful and keep your eyes open.”

Sammy nodded and drove expertly away.

“You seem to be stretching your powers out on a daily basis Thomas. How many more surprises do you have in store for me?”

“I don’t know Nate. My concentration seems to be building. It’s like I can focus with laser precision for just a moment, and the clarity of the thought seems to almost come to life.”

“Man, you are getting spooky my friend. Now listen Mutie, when we get back to the Center, if Karen has a headache or something, don’t put her back down.” Nate could not hold it in, and burst into laughter.

“Oh, you are so going to pay for this Nate.”

“I got you so good tonight Thomas, even your little mutant thought wheels ground to a halt. Come on, admit it like a man.”

“You did me tonight buddy,” Connor admitted smiling. “You stopped me dead with that line.”

Nate pumped his fist. “Yes, I am the man! I defeated the evil mutant at his own smart-ass game. Come on, get into the car and I will take you home.”

At the Center, Connor said goodbye to a still rejoicing Nate, and walked into the complex. Karen met him at the entrance. She handed him an envelope. He opened it and found the chauffeurs’ licenses Derek had promised him. Connor placed the envelope inside his jacket pocket, and walked with Karen out to her car. Neither had spoken, although Karen had greeted him with a smile.

“Did everything go alright today Karen? You do not seem your usual perky self.”

“Derek filled me in on everything today, because of my moving up to be his Chief of Staff. I know now why the phrase ‘ignorance is bliss’ still floats around this society. I suppose you and Nate uncovered another web of intrigue in the naked city today.”

“Let me get back to you on that one. Conjecture will just ruin the lovely dinner I had hoped you would accompany me to.”

“Okay, but lets just go around the corner and get a beer and some pizza. I have to go home, and get some sleep.”

“Afraid of another crazed gunman?” Connor asked.

“Or a spaceship landing on the car to extract brain samples,” Karen admitted. “Now how about it?”

“Beer and pizza sound good to me. Anchovies okay with you?”

Karen stopped and searched his face, “Even you have not mutated that far.”

Connor laughed in appreciation. The beer and pizza date went smoothly with no interruptions. Connor kissed Karen goodnight at the Center and walked in. Agents Stallworth and Genowitz stood leaning against the entrance desk. Connor walked up and shook their hands. He felt the dread tiredness right through the pores of their skin.

“We heard you were out having dinner Agent Connor,” Genowitz began in her straightforward manner. “We did not want to interrupt so we took a chance you would be returning.”

“You two got dumped on again today. I can feel the tension. How can I help?”

“Two little girls ages ten and eleven were taken. They were riding their bikes down to the corner store to get one of those icy things, and never returned. Their folks called the police and the police called us. Both families received calls two hours ago, saying their daughters were buried alive. The families would have to come up with one million dollars in small, unmarked bills. They gave them until tomorrow to get the money together, and then they will make arrangements for the exchange.” Genowitz paused looking at her partner.

“Listen,” Stallworth began, “we know you must be tired and.”

Connor held up his hand. “You can call me anytime day or night if you need help on a kidnapping case. Do you have anything that the girls had on them when taken?”

“The police found the older girl’s shoe on the sidewalk,” Genowitz answered, as she took a white, slip on tennis shoe out of her purse and handed it to Connor. “No prints of any kind, and no fibers of anything could be gathered from it.”

Connor closed his eyes as he stood gripping the tennis shoe. He opened his eyes after a moment, and handed the shoe grimly back to Genowitz. “We have to go now. You drive, and I will direct. I know where they are buried.”

Connor led the way out of the building, and then let Stallworth and Genowitz lead the way to their car. No one spoke as Connor directed Stallworth for about a half an hour. As they traveled along Ohio Drive by the Potomac, Connor had them pull off.

“Call an ambulance and whoever else you want,” Connor directed. “Please stay with the car. I will go down and get the girls. Do you have any blankets or anything?”

Stallworth peeled off his coat, and Genowitz followed suit. “Can’t we help you?” Genowitz asked.

Connor took the coats. “You already have.”

The agents watched him go over the fence in an acrobatic leap, and out of sight over the embankment. Stallworth started the call.

Connor found the spot, and began digging in the freshly dug muck. Two feet down he reached the oblong crate. His heart leapt into his throat as he heard whimpering coming from the wooden box. As he uncovered the length of the box, he put all other thoughts out of his head other than recovering the girls. He was caked in mud from his excavation, as his fingers found the edges of the nailed wooden crate.

“Close your eyes girls. I will have you out in a second.” He heard them cry in anguish at the sound of his voice. Connor literally tore the crate top off. It exploded from its moorings as if it were made of paper. Connor looked down into the filth of the small box. The two small dirt encrusted faces peered up in fear from where they lie with their arms wrapped around each other, shaking from exposure.

Connor lifted them out of the box easily and gently. He wrapped each one in a coat as he separated the shocked and shivering forms from each other. He ripped his own coat off, draped it over the two of them as he lifted them together from the embankment, and then ran smoothly towards the fence. He leaped the fence as a wolf might leap over a small ditch, never allowing the ground to jar his two bundles. Stallworth and Genowitz watched in amazement as Connor gently laid the girls on the backseat of the car. He reached in, and started the car, turning the heater up full blast. The siren of an approaching ambulance wailed in the distance.

Connor returned to the backseat of the car, and gathered the girls to him, talking soothingly to them, as he warmed them with his own body heat and power. By the time the ambulance arrived, the girls had stopped shaking. They were loaded aboard the ambulance quickly. Connor stood watching as the ambulance sped off with their charges.

Stallworth was already calling into his office with the information about where the girls were taken, so their parents could be informed. He ordered guards to meet the arriving ambulance, and stay with the girls every second. Genowitz walked over to where Connor stood, and watched the fading lights of the ambulance with him. Connor turned towards her.

She looked at his mud-smeared face with a combination of awe and fear. “I wish there were some way I could.”

Connor shook his head and held up a dirty hand wearily. “Do not thank me for something most people would feel blessed to be able to do.”

Stallworth walked up next to his partner. “I put a guard on the girls permanently until we get this piece of shit. Genowitz and I will camp out at the hospital while I put a forensics crew onto the site they were buried. We’ll get.”

“I know who did it,” Connor broke in. “Give me your notepad and a pen.”

Genowitz reached inside her purse and pulled out a pen and a small notebook. Connor wrote an address and a name on the notepad, along with a description of the man who had kidnapped the girls. He handed it back to Genowitz.

“I know we will not be able to help each other out in the future if I get involved with apprehending this thing masquerading as a human being. He will be armed. Do your thing and get him. If you need help in any way, or you think they will get him out on some technicality, call me. You do understand why we must keep my involvement quiet in this?”

“But you.” Stallworth began, but Genowitz touched his arm and shook her head. She looked again into Connor’s eyes.

“We will handle everything from here Agent Connor,” she promised. “I will call you and let you know how things progress. We’ll drop you off at the Center, and then go after this guy.”

“Not necessary. You two go on. I will have a ride here shortly. Be careful,” Connor warned.

Genowitz nodded, and slid into the driver’s seat of their car. Stallworth lingered for a moment, wanting to say something else, but Connor simply smiled and waved him on. When they were on their way, Connor took out his cell phone and called Sammy. Sammy’s Grandmother picked up the phone on the second ring. As soon as she heard who it was, she put Sammy on the line immediately.

“Yes, Mr. Connor?”

“Sammy, I need a lift.”

“Where are you Sir, I will be right over.”

Connor gave him directions as Sammy wrote them down.

Sammy managed to arrive even before the FBI descended on the crime scene. He looked at Connor, but said nothing. He took Connor back to the Center in silence. Connor had him pull over before he reached the main gate. Connor smiled at Sammy.

“Thanks for the ride Sammy. Thank your Grandma for me.”

“I will Sir, goodnight. Anytime you need me, I’m there.”

“I know that. Goodnight, I will try and stay out of trouble for the rest of the night.”

Sammy laughed and drove off.

Connor walked in through the gate and exchanged greetings with the guards as he showed his NSA credentials. Inside the complex, Connor went to his room. He turned his lights way down and sat down on his couch. Leaning back, Connor closed his eyes, emptying his mind of all thought. An hour later his phone rang.

“Connor.”

“I made it to church tonight.”

“Were you successful in your conversion Greg?”

“Very.”

“Good. Meet me outside the Lincoln Memorial in one hour. We can pray for a while together.”

“See you in an hour,” Haynes acknowledged.

Connor stood up and went in to take a shower. He dressed in a clean suit and filled a briefcase with one million dollars. Leaving the complex, he drove to the Lincoln Memorial. Leaving his car a few blocks away, he walked the rest of the way. He was fifteen minutes early, but Haynes walked forward to meet him from out of the dark. Connor had sensed him within minutes of leaving his car. Connor led Haynes over to a bench and they sat down.

Haynes handed a piece of notebook paper to Connor. “He owned these members of the Congressional Black Caucus. They gave him the tasty tidbits which got him interested in you and Johnson.”

Connor looked at the names, and slipped the paper into his coat pocket. “Has the Reverend found God?”

“He has been saved,” Haynes confirmed. “When I woke him up after giving him the quarter, he looked worse than I felt earlier. He would have told me his whole life story if I had let him.”

Connor handed him the briefcase. Haynes shook his head negatively. “I have money. I just never want to see you again Connor. Promise me that, and you keep the money.”

Connor caught up Haynes left wrist, and calmly against Haynes’ own power, pulled it inexorably over to the briefcase handle. He leaned close to the man, who tried unsuccessfully to pull away. “Take the money Greg. You and I, for better or worse, have a connection. Invest it wisely, and never let me hear of you again. I can find you anywhere. If you hold up your end, you will never have to hear from me again.”

Haynes looked into Connor’s face and nodded. He took up the briefcase without a word and left. Connor headed back to his car and drove again to the Center. His cell phone rang.

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