The Executioner's Game (13 page)

Luther was speechless. He could not allow this to happen.
Having them all in one place made it a perfect strike opportunity for Alex. He demurred on attending, but his parents vowed to have the meeting anyway. And now he remembered how determined they were when they set their minds to something. They were a formidable pair. They had built a life from nothing, but in the end the vagaries of inner-city life had stolen their power and reduced their children to statistics.

Luther sat frustrated by his secrets. He had no good choice here. Alex had plunged him into Rule 35, and it was just as awful as he had imagined. Family was the ultimate inconvenience to a government agent.

Dinner over, Luther said hasty good-byes to his family and Vanessa and then walked outside into the coolness of the night. He hated to leave them without protection, but he had no choice.

He had taken only a few steps when he realized that someone was following him. He quickened his pace and stepped behind a big SUV as if to cross the street, then waited at the rear of the vehicle. He could hear his pursuer approaching. Luther would have to disarm and neutralize him quickly, then go back to his family and make sure they were okay.

A shadow moved by the side of the SUV and stopped. To the pursuer, Luther had disappeared. Luther listened as the person hesitated, then took another step toward him. The shadow crept closer to the edge of the SUV, and Luther could wait no longer. He sprang from his hiding place and grabbed the man. His hand shot out to the pursuer's throat and squeezed tight. He was about to yank hard when he saw the lovely face of Vanessa.

“Vanessa?” said Luther.

“Luth—” she tried to say, but her wind was cut off. Luther let her go, and she coughed.

“Sorry,” said Luther, feeling embarrassed.

Vanessa held up a hand to tell him either that it was okay or that she needed a moment to get her breath.

“Arch your back and breathe,” said Luther.

Vanessa did, and soon she was better. Luther stood there on the dark street, letting go of all the instincts he'd almost used to kill his high-school sweetheart.

“I wanted to talk to you alone,” said Vanessa.

“About what?” asked Luther in a voice that didn't sound like his own.

“It's gonna sound silly to you.”

“Then just say it.”

“Why did you disappear like that, leaving everyone you know behind?” The words tumbled out of her as if she'd been wanting to say them for a long time. You made us all feel like we weren't important, Luther.”

Luther knew that he'd left behind a lot of damage when he joined E-1. He'd have to choose his answer carefully.

“I'm a government assassin,” said Luther. “I travel the world and kill our enemies to protect truth, justice, and the American way.”

“So you really aren't taking me seriously, are you?” said Vanessa, and for a second she looked like a pouting teenager.

“Vanessa, we can't go back,” said Luther. “I made a choice a long time ago for whatever reason, and I've assumed a life that has taken me worlds away from the one I was headed for—the one we were destined for. Things are too different now for me to forget all that.”

“I—” Vanessa started, then stopped herself and nodded. “I understand,” she said. “I don't really know what I want from you,
Luther. I guess I'm just very curious, and I need some kind of personal closure.”

“Closure is for people who have problems, Vanessa,” said Luther. “We never had a problem. I was here in one life, and then I left for another. It's done.”

“And me?” she asked.

“Part of the life I left,” said Luther. And then, hearing the harshness in what he'd said, he added, “Regrettably.”

Realizing that he'd brought the threat of harm and death to Vanessa and his family, Luther kissed her gently on the cheek. It was as much as he dared to do. He let the moment slip away and then turned his mind back to finding the wolf.

Luther walked off, leaving Vanessa behind and thinking about Alex somewhere in Detroit, laughing at him and planning his next move. He thought about Sharpie, who would probably be backwashed by Alex soon. But mostly he thought about the people whose lives were now potentially forfeit to his mission.

The Rough Riders tune pumped loudly in Luther's room the next morning. He was still in mission mode. He got up and called Hampton. Hampton came over, and they pulled themselves back into the mix.

“I searched the newspaper database for any story that might lead to the wolf,” said Hampton.

“Anything?” asked Luther.

“The usual stuff about the growing anti-Arab sentiment and the terrorist alerts—and one other thing you might be interested in. The police database turned up a Eugene Sharpe, who died when he lost his footing on an overpass and fell into oncoming traffic on 1-75 last night.”

“Alex had Sharpie backwashed,” said Luther.

“More than likely he had someone else do it,” said Hampton. “Chucking a body onto a freeway is
not
E-1 style.

Luther wondered absently how many men Alex had working
for him, how much money he'd given them, and whether any of them knew that when he was done, he'd kill them.

“I have a theory,” said Hampton. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Do I have a choice?” asked Luther.

“No. I think the wolf is behind the heightened terror alert.”

“Why?” asked Luther.

“Unknown at this time, but the growing number of attacks on the Arab community has the stink of black ops.”

“Yes,” said Luther. “They seem planned, measured. The question is…”

“Why?” Hampton finished. “I don't know, as I said, but I have another theory that I'm sure you'll agree with. Whatever the reason is, you're integral to it.”

“Alex knows about my family,” said Luther. “And in Detroit there are many ways for him or a man like Nappy to reach out and cause harm to them in order to draw me out. Rule 35 isn't mandatory; it's designed to give an operative an advantage as a last resort.”

Luther had sent his family and Vanessa back to their lives, oblivious to any danger they might be facing. He was sure that Alex wasn't threatening them directly. It was just a warning—for now.

Luther's Ion sounded. He answered it on the first ring.

“Wolf here,” said the strained voice of his old mentor.

For an instant Luther was thrown into a state of shock. Alex was clever indeed.

“How did you get this number?” he asked as he mouthed Alex's name to Hampton.

“No way,” said Hampton. He connected Luther's Ion to his computer and then patched it in to E-1.

“I didn't teach you
all
my tricks,” said Deavers. “It took time, but I finally got the right codes.”

“They'll just change them tomorrow,” said Luther.

“It won't matter,” said Deavers. “I'll only need the number this one time. So did you kill your TWA yet?”

“No. Is that why you called?”

“He'll turn on you in the end, Luther. And tell him that by the time he finds out how I got into the system, this call will be over.”

“You know I won't do that,” said Luther.

“You could shoot him now while he's on the computer.”

“Your sense of humor has grown very dark, my friend,” said Luther.

“If you can't laugh at yourself, you should die,” said Alex.

“You're not well,” said Luther. “You were almost killed. Can you be sure of what you're doing?”

“Maybe not,” said Alex with a trace of a sigh. “Will you blindly follow orders, or will you question the home office?”

“I have my mission, and I will complete it,” said Luther defiantly.

“Even at the expense of your loved ones?” Alex sounded superior, and at this moment he was.

“Just tell me what you're up to.” Luther was stalling, trying to think of a way to get more information out of him.

“You needed to be trained as an agent—or in this case
retrained
—by me. I wanted to open your mind to the possibility that your agency isn't what it seems. Did Kilmer let you work on that heating unit, or did he order you to leave, find me, and allow people to die?”

“You coordinated the whole thing?” Now Luther wasn't
stalling. He was impressed. “You're sick, Alex, and you're having paranoid delusions.”

“If that's true, then we're both dead, my friend. I'll be in touch.”

The line went dead. Hampton disconnected the Ion and saved the digital file, for what it was worth.

“He doesn't sound crazy,” said Luther.

“Then he'll kill your family,” said Hampton.

“If Alex employs Rule 35 against me, so be it.”

“You're willing to sacrifice your family that easily?”

“It's my job. I knew the risks when he led me here.”

“If it were my family, I'd do anything I could to save them,” said Hampton.

“You are the most by-the-damned-book agent I know,” said Luther. “All of a sudden you have a heart?”

“We can stop the wolf,” said Hampton, not responding directly to Luther's challenge. “He's been smart, but his weakness is that he has employed civilian subagents. We've been unable to get to him, but maybe we can use his man Nappy against him.”

Suddenly Luther smiled broadly. “Yes, we can. And since he's a part of Alex's team, perhaps Rule 35 can help us now.”

 

Jewel was walking quickly away from school. She'd cut her last two classes, hidden in the girls' room, and sneaked out through the cafeteria, which was safe passage because the old men and women who worked there never told on you. She figured that they were bitter about their jobs and could care less if some kid wasn't getting the supreme knowledge afforded by the Detroit public schools.

She rounded a corner and saw a car coming her way. It was a tricked-out Lincoln Navigator, and she ran behind some bushes to hide from it. It could be one of her uncle's soldiers, and she couldn't let them see her. If Uncle Chokwe found out that she was cutting class, he'd be pissed, and the first thing he would do is stop giving her money. The second thing…well, she didn't want to think about it.

Jewel loved her uncle Chokwe, but he was too old-fashioned. All he talked about was boys and having sex and how it would ruin her life. At first she thought he was right. The boys were silly and hormonal. Many of them screwed her friends and then told everybody about it, something that terrified her. She was sure that she'd be a virgin for the rest of her life.

And then she met Veshawn. He had been a senior at her school before she ever got there. He was a popular guy and a star on the basketball team. Veshawn was tall and muscular and had an easy smile like that other basketball player, Chris Webber.

Veshawn was a dealer, but he sold only weed. She knew that her uncle Chokwe was into the drug trade, or at least that was what Rita always said. Jewel wondered at first whether Veshawn worked for her uncle, but he didn't. Veshawn was a rarity in the city: an independent.

The Navigator passed, and Jewel moved on, hooking a turn at a corner and then moving swiftly up the street. She saw Veshawn's car, a Mercedes, parked in the driveway of a modest little house, and she went to the side door and knocked hard.

Veshawn came to the door wearing nothing but a smile. His penis was erect, and Jewel smiled at the sight of it.

“What you want?” he asked casually.

“I'm lookin' at it,” said Jewel. “Now, let me in before somebody sees me.”

Jewel had been having sex with Veshawn for more than a year. He had slowly seduced her with smooth talk, soft kisses, and lots of presents.

Jewel told Veshawn about her uncle, and for a while Veshawn was afraid to see her. He knew about the man called Nappy, and he understood that screwing Nappy's only niece would mean his death if Nappy found out.

But Jewel persisted with him. She liked his deep, silky voice, his big hands, and the way he kissed her, sucking at her tongue and giggling like a schoolboy. He was amazed by her body and looked at her like a hungry animal. This made her feel powerful and beautiful, something that was a treasure in the hardness of her life.

“I love you,” said Jewel as they made love. Veshawn grunted something like “Me, too,” and descended on her breasts. Jewel exploded with feeling and sensation. Slowly the world around her melted away, and she let her passion consume her. As she was lifted by her desire and then her fulfillment, she kept telling herself that this could not possibly be wrong.

Two hours later Jewel emerged from the house and got into a car with Veshawn. He drove her to a spot several blocks from her house, then let her out. She again told him that she loved him, then kissed him good-bye.

Jewel walked the last few blocks to her house, already practicing her post-sex demeanor. It was a routine she was used to. As Jewel got to her house and was about to walk up the steps,
she heard a noise behind her. She never saw the man who had followed her from Veshawn's house. Her first thought was that it was her uncle or one of his men. But she didn't recognize the face of the man who stood behind her, then moved closer, stopping her from entering the house.

Nappy sat quietly as his mother raged at him in the little house. He felt like a kid again as she rolled through her hurt and pain at the disappearance of her only granddaughter.

Rita stood by with her fat arms folded across her fatter chest, shooting lasers at Nappy. This was a victorious moment for Rita. Jewel was gone, maybe dead, and Tawanna blamed Nappy for it.

Jewel had been missing since the end of the school day, and no one knew where she was. Jewel was a good student, and it was unlike her to miss any classes. Nappy feared the worst—that his protection had faltered and some neighborhood thugs had gotten to her for whatever stupid-ass reason they were using this week.

The thought of what those kinds of men would do to her made him sick to his stomach and angry enough to kill.

“We have to call the police,” said Tawanna. She was almost shaking with hurt and fear.

“No,” said Nappy. “No cops. I told you'll find her.” He had all his forces on the street looking for her. So far the only thing they'd learned was that she had cut her last two classes.

“This is your fault,” said Tawanna. “You and your bullshit have finally got her caught up in something terrible.”

“
My
fault?” said Nappy incredulously. “You're the one who won't move out of this place. I offered—”

“I told you I don't want your money!” Tawanna screamed. “By the grace of God, I've kept you in my heart, but that's where I drew my line.”

“I said I was going to find her, and I will!” yelled Nappy. “These are my streets, and if she's out there, I'll get to her!”

“Who the fuck are you? Batman?” sneered Rita.

“Shut up, you fat bitch!” said Nappy. “You're not in this family. Go clean up something and stay the fuck out of grown folks' business.”

Nappy got up and had it in his head to just kick Rita's ass. That would make him feel better, he thought. He had control over that, and he'd do it—bash her fat little head in until she stopped breathing. As he took a step toward her, he felt his mother grab his arm.

“What are you doing, boy? Leave her alone and find my grandbaby,” ordered Tawanna.

Nappy blinked hard, pulling himself from the murderous feeling in his head. He stopped moving toward Rita and drew his mother to him. Nappy kissed Tawanna and walked out the door.

He got into the Buick and drove off, at the same time and dialing a number on his cell phone.

“Talk to me,” he demanded.

“We got something,” said a young man on the line. “But you ain't gon' like it.”

“Just tell it, muthafucka,” said Nappy.

“Your niece got a boyfriend, some dude named Veshawn. One of his boys told us. He's been hittin' it regular, from what we heard.”

Cursing, Nappy turned the car around and headed toward the address he was given. He was soon at the Nevada address. He saw his crew's car parked outside but no sign of the men themselves. They must be inside. He cursed again, loudly. They'd engaged the boyfriend and had probably gotten into a fight. He prayed that Jewel was there but hoped she hadn't witnessed any violence. Nappy swore to himself that if they had done anything to Veshawn, he'd kill them all.

Nappy entered the house. Just inside the front door, he stopped cold in his tracks. His two men were lying in a heap on the floor, bound together. Standing next to them was the man Wolf had sent them to capture. Beside him was a scared young man tied to a chair. That had to be Veshawn. Before Nappy could react, Luther closed the gap between them.

“Give me your gun,” said Luther.

Nappy saw that Luther was not armed. He instantly went to reach for his gun. As soon as he did, he felt something being jammed into the small of his back.

“Don't be foolish,” said Hampton from behind him.

Nappy froze. Luther moved closer and took Nappy's gun from him.

Hampton pushed Nappy farther into the room and then stepped around in front of him. He kept the Baby Eagle trained on Nappy.

“Where is she?” Nappy asked.

“Safe, if you cooperate,” said Luther.

“I'm gonna kill you,” Nappy said, pointing a finger at Veshawn. Veshawn cringed as if he'd been struck. Nappy took a step toward the cowering man, but Hampton waved him back with his gun.

“Now, now, fellas, let's not fight,” said Luther. He took a step away from Nappy and turned as if to leave. Then he spun on his heel, raised a foot, and kicked Nappy on the chin, dropping him.

Hampton went to Veshawn and untied him.

“If I were you, I'd get as far from Detroit as I could,” said Hampton. “And for the record, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

They secured Nappy and took him out of the house, leaving his men behind. In the car they administered a tranquilizer so that he would not come to. Then they drove away.

“Okay,” said Hampton. “Now what?”

“I get him to talk,” said Luther.

“And if he doesn't?”

“We kill the girl.” Luther waited a beat and then laughed. “Just kidding.”

“Not funny,” said Hampton. “You want me to help out?”

“No. I don't want him to know who you are. I might need you later.”

“But if you get the info on the wolf, you'll call me in.”

“Of course.”

Luther dropped Hampton off at their safe house and then took Nappy to the one place that he knew Alex would never think to look for him. Alex's Chinatown address had been abandoned, and local thieves had pretty much cleaned the place out. It would be a good place to hide.

Once he was settled in, Luther called his family just to make sure they were all right. His mother answered the phone, sounding cheerful. His siblings had agreed to have the family meeting, and she was delighted.

“I don't know when I can do it,” said Luther. “I have lots of loose ends here in Detroit.”

“Well, we can't keep this out there too long,” said Theresa.

“I know, Mama, but business first.”

He heard Ruth's voice in the background.

“I got a package?” said Theresa. Then to Luther she said, “I'm sorry. This girl is about to worry me to death about some pretty box. Listen, your father wants to talk to you for a minute.”

“I can't,” said Luther. “Tell Daddy I'll call him back later. I promise.”

He hurried her off the phone without giving her a number where she could call him. Luther knew he was really upsetting her, but it was for the best. He wanted so much to tell her she might be in danger, but he had to accept what his profession meant for him and his loved ones. They were in this now, and he prayed that Alex was not nearly as far gone as Luther suspected.

When Nappy came to, he found himself seated in a broken old chair, one of the few pieces of furniture that had been left behind.

“That stuff I gave you is good, huh?” said Luther. He hadn't tied Nappy up. If this was going to work, he had to make Nappy feel that Luther was the lesser of the two evils facing him. Luther had to remember that this civilian was a criminal and in a way almost an agent himself.

“Where's my niece?” asked Nappy groggily. He got to his feet, then thought better of it and sat back down.

“Where's my friend?” asked Luther.

“Wolf?”

“Yes,” said Luther, quickly realizing what the name meant. This was more of Alex's sick humor.

“I don't know. He's a sneaky muthafucka, just like you.”

“You're going to bring him to me—tonight. However it is you contact him, do it. The rest is mine, and then your niece will be back home safe and sound. That's the deal. No negotiating.”

“I'm not stupid,” said Nappy. “I know you and your friend Wolf are government agents. Black ops and all that shit. Only he got smart and turned. And look at you, a black man, the good boy holding down the fort for your master.”

“You got it wrong,” said Luther. “I'm a patriot.”

Nappy laughed at him, a husky laugh that shook his body. “A black patriot. Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

“Patriotism is a principle that teaches that nothing is greater than the ideal of America. Now, my country wants you to tell me what I want to know—or, in the name of patriotism, I will kill you.”

“I don't turn on my friends. I won't give you Mr. Wolf.”

“What about your niece?”

Without the slightest change in expression, Nappy said, “Some things you just have to take.”

Luther watched Nappy carefully as he said these words. His training told him that Nappy was lying, trying to see how much leverage he could muster. Nappy had spoken defiantly, but as he had, he'd dropped his eyes from Luther. That was a “tell,” a sign he didn't believe his own action.

Luther didn't respond. If he talked, Nappy would know he was calling his bluff, and the game could go on forever. Luther had to make Nappy think he was going to kill him right then
and be done with it. And it would follow that his niece would die as well. Luther believed that Nappy had accepted his own death, but he didn't believe he'd accepted that his young niece would die.

Luther looked Nappy in the eyes, thought about the terrible things Nappy did on the streets to people, to children, then pulled his P99 and raised it as quickly as he could in a fluid motion.

“Wait!” said Nappy. “Hold up, dammit!”

“Make it good,” said Luther from behind the big gun.

Nappy took in a sharp breath, then let it out. “I have to call him from three different places within a time period, and then he meets me.”

“I'll go with you,” said Luther.

“How do I know you'll return my niece when I'm done?” asked Nappy.

“Easy,” said Luther, lowering the gun. “I'm the good guy.”

 

Nappy drove Luther's Ford as they went to the three locations and made calls. They had to be careful, as the streets were crawling with local police and unmarked cars that Luther could tell were standard FBI issue. He even saw what he believed was a CIA utility van. The terrorism alert had turned the city into a police state, he thought. The commotion over terrorism was a perfect diversion for an agent on a mission.

It was safer for Luther to let Nappy drive, as that way Luther's hands would be free to counter anything that might happen. Each location was near a party store in east, west, and southwest Detroit. At one phone a kid who had to be a drug dealer waited for a call. As soon as he saw Nappy, he ran off. Luther thought about
the kind of fear this man instilled in the criminal populace. He was riding with the devil, he told himself. No matter, Luther thought. Tonight he, not Nappy, was the most dangerous man in Detroit.

Nappy finished the last call and then came back to Luther in the Ford.

“Now I meet him over by Palmer Park,” said Nappy.

“And how do you know that?” asked Luther.

“Because last time I met him near John R Street and the time before that over by Hamtramck. These are the three places we meet. We rotate between them.”

Standard drop procedure, thought Luther. Still, there was something about the locations that made him nervous, something in his training about rendezvous points and structures. He struggled to recall it.

Luther drove from the last location to Palmer Park, which was near the north end of the city close to Eight Mile.

“Now, where's my niece?” asked Nappy.

“When I see Wolf.” Luther almost said Alex's real name.

“If she's been hurt, there's no place you'll be able to hide from me.”

“I'll try not to worry about that.” Luther could not suppress his smile.

“How many men have you killed?” asked Nappy.

“How many children have you poisoned?” Luther retorted.

“Don't give me that false morality.”

“We all know who we are. Nothing that happens tonight will change that.”

Luther heard himself speak these words, but he wondered whether they were true. Would his apprehension of Alex change
him? If he failed, would his old mentor murder him and go on with whatever his personal mission was here in Detroit?

Nappy pulled the Ford onto a street next to Palmer Park. They got out, and Nappy led him across the street and into the park. It was dark out, and Luther walked several steps behind Nappy. Nappy moved toward a grove of trees. The light from the nearby street faded even more, and darkness rapidly enveloped them. Luther slowed his pace, and soon Nappy was well out in front.

Nappy stopped by a large twisted tree. He waited a moment, and when he turned, Luther was gone.

“What the…? What kinda goddamned game you playin' now, nig—”

Nappy had not finished his thought when he was struck in the chest by something. He stumbled backward from the blow, and then he saw him. Alex stood in front of him. He pulled a knife and swung it so quickly that Nappy did not have time to draw another breath.

Luther grabbed Alex's long, dark coat and pulled him backward as he struck with the knife. This gave Nappy time to thrust up his arms. Nappy caught the edge of the knife on the meaty part of his left forearm. He felt the warm rush of blood and yelled in pain.

Alex turned and met Luther's foot. The blow caused Alex to drop the knife.

Nappy saw his chance and ran off into the night, not looking back and not caring who would win the fight.

Luther remembered why the three locations had unnerved him so. A structured rendezvous always invited surveillance. Alex had a transmitter at each one of the stations, which meant that he would be waiting at the drop point.

Alex assumed a fighting position, and Luther threw a punch that he easily blocked. The two men squared off. Luther had his gun, but he was determined not to kill his old mentor.

“I suppose your answer to joining me is no, then?” asked Alex.

Luther ran at him and threw a series of punches and kicks. Alex caught most of them, but the last punch sent him reeling backward. He fell to the ground.