One Safe Place (31 page)

The former president was not exceptionally bright in many areas, and when it came to memory of details, he was almost childish. While protecting him, Psalms had overheard his code number, 43-33-23-13-3-C, during a conversation between the former president and The Duck, the short, squat man with the nasal voice who was behind the scenes of many political evil deeds.

Psalms and EL'vis knew nothing came directly down from the former president, but The Duck had his hands in everything as a political maker or breaker: no holds barred.

Outside of the little house, Psalms and EL'vis spoke, and Suzy Q listened.

“I need to go visit with Gabrielle before we plan to do anything. They have taken a shot at her. I think they have tried to put a scare into her, but I have to evaluate this situation more.”

“I agree, sir. We can head into the city and let Phil know we are coming.”

“Let Phil know Q and I will have tools on us, and we will need to come through with them and not be checked.”

“Got it. Sir, I have debated whether I could share some information, but with what has taken place, I feel I must. Last night, less than an hour before the attack, Madam Brandywine gave me an assignment. No relationship to the attack, but—”

Psalms cut EL'vis off. “Was it a Level Six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'll think on it. She has her life, and I have mine.”

“To hell mate, if you do!” Suzy Q froze the soft ground with her cracking icicle tone. “Yer lady friend set up a kill, and she is then the victim of a long-range bullet across her baby feeders. Have you lost touch with what we do, eh? We need to search every centimeter for worms that might be crawling out of the ground.” Suzy Q's eyes sliced a Zorro slash across Psalms' face.

“Big Boy said keep your fucking heart out of it. I'll sit my little bony ass inside a jail cell on a cold metal toilet for the rest of my life for you, but you better give me a running chance to avoid that crap. I don't give a fuck about yer love life and about trying to protect her privacy!”

At that moment, Psalms regretted telling EL'vis that he could, and should, say everything he would say to him in front of Suzy Q. Despite it being the right thing.

When Suzy Q pulled her weapon out, whether it be her gun or her tongue to give you a lashing, you were going to get both barrels. “If yer woman let some red ants get loose, just stomp them little buggers to death and kiss and make up with her ass at a later date. That's of course what yer supposed to, eh?” Suzy Q removed her sunglasses, cocked her head, and eyeballed the giant of man in front of her. She could hug him or shoot him dead either way, and would still love him.

Suzy Q could claw or beat most men to death. Over the past days, she had to beat down his heart twice, and keep it from ruling his mind. Psalms was being hard-headed about his one weakness. First Evita, and now Gabrielle, the two women he loved. Suzy Q took her thumb and forefinger and made the gun pointing to the head gesture as if to say, “What will it take before you wake up, or die?”

Psalms removed his sunglasses. His golden eyes locked on Suzy Q's blue ones. He loved that anyone would stand up to him. It was so rare, and she was right to leave no stone unturned. He kept staring, and thought of what his grandfather said about King David, the man who killed Goliath. David sinned against Bathsheba and her husband Uriah when he was supposed to be at war taking care of his nation, instead of his tending to his personal desires. King David let his emotions control him, and instead his actions led to ruin by not being able to finish what he started.

There's a time for love, and there's a time a man must take control and complete a task. It doesn't matter he hurts as long as his heart is pure. Grandfather had told him, a pure of heart is the deepest
love of all. Love is about completion, your best effort, the culmination of brains and brawn, of thoughts and actions, words and behaviors. Love is not about victory. Love is being pure of heart when all is all done. Why put new doors in an old house when the house is falling down? Crooks and critters will find other ways to come in and keep hurting your presence and your future. Put your house in order.

Psalms nodded and Suzy Q nodded back.

They headed back into Washington, D.C., and Psalms had EL'vis tell him what Gabrielle wanted. It hurt. It angered his soul. On top of that, EL'vis said he was hesitant because each time he had spoken about the assignment with Gabrielle, he could tell she was under the influence of strong drink. EL'vis peeked at the rearview mirror, and saw Psalms' face changing color to match his wine-stain birthmark. He was turning purple black.

O
n their way back into Washington, D.C., Psalms got a call from Gabrielle. She told him her wounds were not enough to force her to stay in the hospital. Psalms had flown Faelynn in on a separate flight. Her sister was nursing her at the hospital, then Gabrielle decided to leave. She arranged a private flight back to the other coast.

Psalm instructed her to fly into Boeing Airfield in Seattle where he would have her picked up by his security management team. Before he got off the phone, though, he told her they needed to talk. His tone gave off the same fear as that of an airline pilot coming on the intercom to say the landing gear was stuck and that the passengers needed to get ready for a rough landing.

Psalms understood his thinking might be clouded, so he let Suzy Q take the lead and realized it was about the team: as EL'vis would say,
la familia.
Suzy Q hatched her plan. Psalms and EL'vis listened and agreed. A quick response would send a message that Gabrielle and the people behind her had just as much power and knowledge as the assassins, and more.

First they needed to find The Duck. The attack on the former president would be a suicide mission in the effort to get even. The former president most likely had sent the order down, but The Duck had to be the driver and planner. Back in Seattle, Mintfurd
and Velvet worked the Internet and intel lines, compiling a profile of information.

Why did they go after Gabrielle? It was always to shut someone up: it's always to get rid of opposing ideas. No one even asked the question aloud.

The team would fly back to Seattle in the morning. Psalms, EL'vis, and Suzy Q left their hotel rooms that evening for fresh air and a change of scenery. They headed to 14th and U Streets to eat at Busboys and Poets. The team had time on their hands while they waited for Gabrielle to land and get to Psalms' condo safely.

People were walking the streets talking about the shooting, and the state of affairs of the world. Comments like “no one is safe” filled the streets like out-of-town tourists.

All three drank either coffee or tea as they sat in the corner. They had some privacy, and Psalms had his tablet out, communicating with Mintfurd back in Seattle.

On stage, the renowned poet Alexandria Cornet had the audience captivated with socially conscious spoken word:

Limited Access

If you talk to me or listen to me with a constricted mind

You'll get your mind blown.

Caution, I don't play well in small intellectual places.

Been known to break out of tight spaces

And I don't subscribe to your actions of “holier than thou”

I remember dates, years, hours and minutes

Yeah I'm that bookworm dude.

Who…what…and where is etched in my mind and depending on others actions, it may be etched in my heart

Been places and done some things that I should write,

“1000 Shades of My Black Ass” that would drop your jaw and make you choke yourself

Don't expose your lack of IQ by challenging facts put in front of you, with no fact to support your disbelief

Saying, “Well, that's just how I feel” as a counter belief in the face of well-known facts that are unknown to you, is simply ignorant.

Radio Raheem in
Do The Right Thing
said, “D, Mutha Fuuuker”…meaning did you hear me correctly?

I say IQ…did you hear me correctly?

Smart is asking, “Where did you get those facts from?” Then you come back and say, “I found these facts.” Now we can educate one another, and expand our collective knowledge

I've been around I have slept around on the shores of places you have only seen while thumbing through magazines you only pick up when in the checkout line next to the magazine with the 400-pound baby found on Mars

I've read: Claude Brown, Maya Angelou, Alex Haley, Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Langston Hughes, Richard Wright, J.A Rogers, W.E B Du Bois, Octavia Butler and James Baldwin. I've read: Ralph Ellison, and Zora, and Gwendolyn Brooks, Nikki Giovanni, and for my faith, I read the Bible, and Brother Sterling A. Brown, a poet, a literary critic, a professor, a poet laureate of the District of Columbia.

I studied the art of war, the physical fight and the mental battles though the minds of Sun Tzu, Bruce Lee, Julius Caesar, Hannibal, and the Native American Chief, Shooting Star, and the Apaches who perfected guerilla warfare, and Ali, Joe Louis and Jack Johnson.

I listened and heard Jimi Hendrix, Beethoven, Mozart, Miles and Coltrane, and Sly Stone, Billie Holiday, Muddy Waters, Mahalia Jackson, and Aretha, Sam Cooke, and Prince.

I can stand in any room with anyone and bring knowledge or a well-thought-out opinion

And yes, be careful, I do eat my spinach and broccoli, and I move my ass off the couch, and away from reality TV, so I can whoop your ass physically and mentally.

I watch movies with artistic realistic dialogue from many countries and cultures, and don't give a damn what the stars name is, and what they wear to awards shows, and who they have a baby with or by, and make no assumption about their lives from images and tabloid gossip.

Don't expose your lack of IQ by challenging facts put in front of you, with no fact to support your disbelief.

No need to look around to see if I see your pants are down, and your head is twisted out of joint.

That's you

Mr. and Ms. Fake Stories

I see you

Wide open

Trying to judge me

Knowing what's best for me…really.

How is that when your ass is stuck in a narrow mind?

Oh, but here you go again with your actions of, “holier than thou”

I just called you out.

You looking for me to let you slide.

Yeah, you're greasy.

Yep, you straight with no sharp corners?

But, if you don't know nothing, from nothing, leaves nothing…your shit is limited.

You can't see anything but, your narrow thinking ass…as being right, and you play like…I'm wrong because your trick bag is busted?

So, now you come looking to see what's what.

Well, just like Tupac said, I ain't hard to find.

But…

If you talk to me, or listen to me, with a constricted mind

You'll get your mind blown

Caution, I don't play well in small, intellectual places.

Signed, Four-eyes, aka Bookworm, aka Fearless Fly, with a Black Belt in words-upside- your-head-if-you-can't-hear-I'll-drop-kick-you in to a new reality

And ah, P.S.…read between the lines, you find some facts, and the fact is I don't care about how you feel if you don't know the facts!

People stood and waved their arms, as if they were trying to cool him off. He left the stage and other talented poets graced the stage.

Finally, Psalms was able to connect with Gabrielle on his electronically cloaked tablet that blocked anyone from reading or listening. Mintfurd created software that made the computer change its IP address every five seconds. Psalms typed questions to Gabrielle about what possible problems may have brought on the attempted assassination. He told her the attack came from close to home, from someone in her former administration. He heard her agitated response through his Bluetooth. She told of the recent explosion in Texas, and how GB had asked her to come out and speak up for federal funds for the company that had supported him. She told Psalms she had refused, and that GB was furious, as if she was still under his thumb. She heard rumblings that her speeches as of late were leaning more liberal. Conservative party leaders had asked her to stay the path of what had been. The Duck had asked her personally. Gabrielle let him and others know, she was now a private citizen and could take positions on policy that were different from theirs, and she did not have to stay on a scripted narrative anymore.

He told her to stay awake if she could because he would be calling back soon.

The three traded thoughts and ideas, but Suzy Q had a plan ready to go; she just needed the target and location. Finally, her plan to flush out the target came together, and Psalms called Gabrielle back.

He typed:

Tell The Duck you have had a change of heart and now want to support the federal dollars going to that company. Tell him to call a press conference next week. He's gonna assume the assassination attempt scared you in to changing your mind, which will give him satisfaction. He'll relax. That's what we need.

Gabrielle responded:
Okay. Psalms, did EL'vis tell you what I wanted done? I—

He typed:

Stop! I will talk to you…when I decide to talk to you about this. I will say this: no one will change my life or your life in the way you planned by taking someone else's, And, oh, Gabrielle, get your ass into rehab. Not a place just to dry out from drinking, but a place to change the culture of why.