He was a homeless man who usually ranted and raved about the war he had yet to win, a war he said he would die fighting. Nurse Shirley knew death was upon him and went to see him daily, hoping to ease his sufferings.
She entered his room with a pitcher of cold water to find him lying in his bed with his eyes closed. She didn’t try to wake him. Shirley studied his wrinkled face and furrowed brow. Even when he was asleep, he was deep in thought. His lips were usually pursed or turned down in a frown, but when he smiled, she tingled inside. Despite his unkempt appearance, his smile told her that he had been a fine man in his day. Until, like so many others, he was destroyed by the war.
Shirley put the pitcher down on his bedside table. She jumped a little when she felt his cold, clammy touch on her wrist.
“Did you make the call?” he rasped.
“I thought you were asleep,” she said, catching her breath.
“You know what they say? Every closed eye ain’t asleep,” he told her before breaking into a coughing fit.
She helped prop him up in the bed and poured him a cup of water.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully.
“My pleasure.” She smiled.
“Now… did you make that call, Ms. Shirley?” he inquired again after taking a deep drink from the cup.
“No,” she admitted with regret. “This place has been a madhouse. Two of my nurses called in sick and I…”
He held up a big yet feeble hand. “No need to explain, Ms. Shirley. You’ve been so good to this old man, I hate to press you, but… I know I ain’t got much time and the time I had, I wasted. But you see… I got some makin’ right to do with my Lord, and the people I keeps in my heart.”
She gazed into his brown eyes and smiled warmly.
“I promise. After my rounds, I’ll make the call.”
“Thank you, Ms. Shirley,” he replied and flashed a smile that would tickle any woman’s fancy.
“You are a mess, Mr. Man,” she said rubbing his thin, fragile thigh before leaving the room.
As she had promised, she sat down at her desk with the phone book after her rounds were completed. She flipped to the white pages in search of M, until she found Murphy, then fingered the rows of names until she reached D. Shirley dialed the number but got the answering machine.
“This is Delores Murphy. I’m not here right now, but please leave your message… BEEP!”
“Ms. Murphy, this is Shirley Green at the VA hospital. Please call me as soon as you can at 555-9… 3… 2… 6. I’m calling about one of my patients who believes you’re his wife. His name is Bernard James. It really is… urgent.”
Shirley hung up, happy to have done a good deed, but not knowing the Pandora’s box she had just opened.
QUANTICO, VIRGINIA
CHAPTER TWELVE
The director of the FBI held court at a large round wood table. Around it, several field agents sat with thick files and binders placed in front of them. Behind the director on a large white screen were mug shots of Dutch, Craze, Angel, and Rahman.
“For many years we’ve tried to pin him down, but all was in vain. Even when faced with multiple life sentences, Angel Alvarez and Rahman Muhammad refused to give him up. We had him in custody. Then the tragedy he orchestrated at the Essex County Courthouse. After that, he disappeared.”
The director debriefed his staff with bitterness in his voice.
“Under our directive, the Newark police department concealed his successful escape from the courthouse from both the press and the public. For obvious reasons, we needed them to believe he was dead. We fabricated the technicality that allowed Angel and Rahman to be released from prison. We wanted them to lead us to him. And that is what we are here to discuss today.”
The director looked around the table to make sure he had everyone’s attention.
“Years before we orchestrated their prison releases, we placed an agent in deep cover, an agent none of you know.”
Several of those in attendance at the meeting snapped their heads up and raised their eyebrows.
“Only I and a handful of those who needed to know are aware of the agent’s identity. This agent has been on the case for over three years, and we’re finally seeing some light at the end of the tunnel.”
He pressed a button on the intercom.
“Please bring in Agent Reese.”
The pressurized door slid open with a smooth whoosh and agent Kimberly Reese walked in. She was dressed for business in a navy-blue suit, nude stockings, and sensible navy-blue shoes. Her demeanor was all business, too. The only things out of place were the gold-tipped dreadlocks sticking out from the bun she wore at the nape of her neck.
“Let me introduce Agent Kimberly Reese, also known as Goldilocks.”
The director smirked and there was a smattering of laughter.
Goldilocks smiled politely and turned to the business at hand.
“I know the director has briefed you so I’d like to bring you up to date. I spent two years in a federal penitentiary getting close to my contact, Angel Alvarez.” Goldilocks pointed to Angel’s mug shot. “Angel is the only woman in James’s organization. At that time, we believed that there was a romantic connection between her and Bernard James for us to exploit, but I have subsequently learned that there is none.”
Goldilocks pointed to the other mug shots.
“These are James’s last two remaining players. A third, Qwan Taylor, was murdered by Angel herself upon her release from prison,” Goldilocks said, remembering the blood she had wiped from Angel’s cheek.
“We were beginning to think James had abandoned Alvarez, and we were prepared to reindict her under the Rico Act. Since she’s been out of jail, her murder rate alone would incarcerate her for life. But fortunately for her and for us, James reached out to her through Christopher Shaw, better known on the streets as Craze, a few days ago,” Goldilocks explained, smiling triumphantly.
“We are 100 percent certain that Craze will lead us to James. We, as in myself, Angel, Craze, and Rahman, are scheduled to leave on a plane the day after tomorrow. I haven’t been told the destination, but I am included on the journey.”
A young Asian man asked, “I’m sure this case has been grueling, and I commend you on your work, but isn’t this a little much? Despite the courthouse fiasco, he was just a kingpin, correct? Why all the extra muscle for a criminal the public believes is dead anyway?”
Goldilocks looked at her boss. “Director?”
The director stood up and addressed the question.
“Mr. James is still very much a threat. There are things we are privy to but aren’t at liberty to discuss. Whatever his agenda is, we need to know it, now, and at all costs.” The director punctuated his statement by hitting his fist on the table.
“You have been brought in for an extremely covert assignment. I’m counting on all of you to do your best work. Thank you.”
The meeting broke up and all except for the director and Goldilocks left the room.
“Two days, huh?” the director questioned.
“Yes, sir,” Goldilocks replied with a smile.
“Understand, Reese. Whoever and whatever you have to do, it must be done. Do not let James get away from us now. He is our number one priority,” the director affirmed.
Goldilocks nodded. Dutch was her number one priority as well.
READING GROUP GUIDE
1. Were you surprised that Craze showed up in the end of the book?
2. Do you think that Roc is making the best decision by leaving with Craze?
3. Do you think Roc should stay with his family?
4. Do you think that Roc’s wife will really divorce him?