Black 01 - Black Rain (3 page)

Vincent Alexandria

29

“Joe, the stuff doesn’t stop there. We have the exact same situation going on in Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma and Iowa. We feel they’re all connected.”

I rub my head and the back of my neck from the stress that’s moving into them. “So, you think the same guy is running all of this?”

“Yes. In these states, there are federal injunctions on state and local law-enforcement agencies, allowing any money seized from drug-related activity to be kept by the state and department that makes the bust. In other states this money goes directly to the federal government and the department that made the bust gets a percentage from a pool of money that is set up to help all departments stay up to date with computer equipment, technology, vehicles and weapons to help us in the war on drugs.” Agent James belches and waves the stench away from his face.

I frown at the odor and look at him. “Damn, James, that was gross. You have to take better care of yourself.

It smells like you ate a skunk,” I complain.

“I’m sorry. You’ll have to excuse me. Ever since they found that body they believe to be Agent Smelley my stomach has been acting up from the stress. I’m scared for Agent Chase’s safety. Like I was saying, having individual state law-enforcement departments handle their own money leads to temptation and corruption. This leads to illegal search and seizures where officers are robbing known drug dealers when it’s believed they have large amounts of cash on hand. They turn in some of the money, but keep large sums of it, and who’s the wiser? If the fox is guarding the chicken coop and a chicken or two comes up missing, who’s gonna know?”

Agent James asks as he rubs his stomach.

30

Black Rain

“Any good accountant worth his salt. Somebody will come forward if that much money is being seized, even if they’ve killed the drug lord. Money is the root of all evil and if people are getting ripped off, they sure as hell will be talking about it,” I answer.

“That’s true, and that’s how we got wind of this.

These large amounts of money can’t be traced, and the drug lords can’t report the stolen money to the police.

So we have two things that can happen. The drug lords get the cops on the payroll or they start a war with them to try and protect the money the police are stealing.

Cops go in, kill everybody there, take the money and drugs… Bingo—perfect crime! This shit has to stop, Joe.”

“‘To protect and collect’ is the motto people are using on the street for police these days,” I say.

Agent James sighs heavily. “We don’t know how many dirty cops are on the take, but we do know that once you’re a part of this black ring, death is the only way out. We have reason to believe that these hits are internal; a black ring of dirty cops killing other dirty cops. They sucker you in with money, drugs, women or property. Agents Chase and Smelley infiltrated the ring in Nebraska. Last I heard she’d got next to one of these rogue cops, a guy they call Dread. That’s him on the fourth photo.”

I scan the photo. “He’s one hell of a mean-looking dude.”

“That’s right, Joe. He is, and we suspect him, but we haven’t been able to prove anything. The kicker is that he is in charge of an undercover task force to bust gangbangers dealing drugs to fund their operations. So they
Vincent Alexandria

31

pretty much have the green light to move around at will.

He’s one bad dude, Joe. He was a marine in his younger days. You can see by the size of him that he can be an intimidator. I’m sure he is high on the food chain of this dirty-cop operation, but we don’t think he is the leader.

We want to cut the head off this snake and this Dread fellow can lead us to the head.”

Dread is Cuban-looking. I’ve heard of him. I’ve never met him, but what other officers have said is that he has a temper that is something to be reckoned with. He had many service awards with the force. I can see why others would follow this guy. He sounds like a natural leader and his looks are charming. I read his real name is Orlando Cattanno, as written on the bottom of the photo. He’s a muscular guy with a Harley-Davidson tattoo on his forearm. His hair is jet-black and he is handsome. I can see why the ladies would fall for this guy. He has the perfect face and a great smile, but his eyes are dark and sinister. He looks to be around six foot three and just over two hundred pounds.

“Shit, looks like I’m going to have to brush up on my motorcycle-riding and hit the gym a little harder, just in case I have to match up to this guy,” I think aloud.

I keep flipping through the pictures and see this huge white guy who looks to be Cattanno’s right-hand man.

Underneath his picture is the name Rick “Brutus” Tucker.

I sit back abruptly as the next picture reveals Agent Chase holding Cattanno’s arm as the big guy, Brutus, opens the back of a black Lincoln Continental for them.

Chase is as beautiful as ever. Her skin is caramel, she wears dark shades and her silky black hair is much longer than I’ve ever seen it. Her leather pantsuit reveals
32

Black Rain

the body that my fingertips explored the night we spent in Jefferson City after questioning Missouri’s governor.

What are you into Chase?
I think sadly.

“I’m going to need a couple of days to get things straight with my partner and family,” I explain.

“This group operates out of Nebraska, Joe. They like to move around a lot. Dread always keeps five or six guys around him. Chase is using her real name on this one, because her background is better than any we could make up. She was a cop before making the Bureau.

This Dread fella likes a smart woman. The only thing he doesn’t know about Chase is that she’s FBI. I’ll clear your leave with Commissioner Wayne, but no one else must know.”

“I’ll remember to trust no one but my partner, Vernon on this one,” I concur.

“You understand you’re flying blind? You have my pager number. Call me from a pay phone while you’re in transit. I don’t want anyone to be able to track where you are. We think they’re still in Nebraska, so that’s where you’ll be headed first. Don’t telephone me from anywhere close to where you’ll be staying, because I’m sure they’ll be monitoring you, so you’ll have to remain evasive. I’ll make some inside contacts for you in each state.”

“There isn’t too much in Nebraska. That would be a great place to fly under the radar. I’ll call you once I’m in the area.”

Agent James lights another cigarette, breathes the smoke in deeply and exhales. “The agents I recruit to help you will contact you when you let me know where you are. Good luck, Johnson. You can pick a car up at the FBI compound, and I’ll make sure it’s loaded with
Vincent Alexandria

33

weapons in a secret compartment in the trunk. Everything else you need will be in the envelope I gave you.

We have to be careful on this one and not leave a paper trail. We don’t know who we can trust. That’s why I gave you cash to finance your search for our agents. Be careful, Joe.”

We shake hands and he walks back to his car and drives off into the night. I take a deep breath of the damp night air and sit under the lamppost while going over the other material, fingering through surveillance pictures of Chase, the guy they call Dread and a few of his cronies.

I open the envelope and there is what looks to be about fifty one-thousand-dollar bills. Agent James has always had a sense of humor. Is that what my life is worth these days? I place the money back in the envelope and tuck it into my trousers. The last thing I need is to get hit up before getting a chance to use it.

Life is full of surprises, and death has a funny way of making you see what’s important real quick.

Chapter 2

Chase lets the plush white cotton robe slide from her body and it seems funny, even cynical, that her name is embroidered on the lapel of the robe. The personaliza-tion of the robe is a loving touch and it would have been a heartfelt gesture in any other circumstances. Chase never noticed it when she opened the yellow-ribbon-adorned white box. This is the first time she has worn this newly delivered gift from Dread. In the shower, she slowly turns the levers, letting the steam and water consume her.

It’s been six weeks since she has been undercover. It has been the hardest month and a half she has ever lived.

Being in Nebraska is bad enough, but the cold beginning of fall weather has made it worse. She tries—to no avail—to fight back the tears of fear as the goose bumps that have appeared upon her skin give evidence of her
Vincent Alexandria

35

tormented emotions. She strives to summon inner strength to battle the feelings of abandonment and loneliness. She struggles desperately to remember the teach-ings of her former karate sensei and the power of focused and disciplined meditation. It doesn’t seem like twelve years since her last class, but she’s retained most of the information that was instilled in her.

The sensei did not make it easy on her. He often had her spar with men twice her size and girth. She didn’t think it was fair to have to go against the big men, but the sensei always said he had to prepare her for life and life was not fair, but she would be prepared. She is now thankful for his foresight.

“An arrow that is shot without aim is a useless weapon. Know the source of your target and shoot strong and straight, so that the arrow may go through it and not simply pierce it. A small wooden arrow can stop a full grown bear, if your aim is focused and true.” She smiles at the words of the small biscuit-brown man with his head of graying hair and neatly trimmed goatee.

He’d looked frail, but was graceful in his motions and could withstand the attack of five grown men. Sensei Gadson taught her inner peace and discipline. For that she is so grateful, especially now when her very existence is on the verge of being shattered.

The hot water streams down her thick, shapely body and she thinks of the one thing that always gives her a sense of safety and security, Detective Joe Johnson. She envies his wife so much. If Chase could take her place for one day and have him all to herself, she would know true happiness.

Thoughts of Joe bring her a small smile; it is only a
36

Black Rain

matter of time before he comes to help her out of this deadly situation. Chase has always been secure in knowing that she can take care of herself. But to get out of this situation, she’ll need help. She’s yet to come up against a psychopath like Orlando “Dread” Cattanno.

Chase regrets not protesting the assignment. Witnessing the carnage and violence he dispenses on the officers who challenge him or try to cheat him out of his share of the drug money is unbearable. It has not been an easy thing to take. His methods of justice are sadistic and inhumane. And his lack of remorse reminds her just how deep she is in hell’s kitchen. Being mentally on guard constantly is the only way to protect her cover, and it takes its toll on her nerves.

She has been with Dread for close to two months and has seen five people killed so far; that is the sacrifice she has to make. She’s dodged his sexual advances so far, thanks to his erectile dysfunction. That suits her just fine, but she realizes it’s just a matter of time before things get way out of hand and possibly violent.

If it weren’t that she thinks of Joe, imagines him every time Dread touches her, she would have broken down a long time ago.

When she initially met Dread, she found him quite attractive, charming, though cavalier. They met at the Omaha, Nebraska, police station. He was a gentleman and humorous in his flirtation. He often took her to dinner and would send her flowers every week. He wasn’t Detective Joe Johnson, whom she longed for often, but she liked the attention Dread gave her. Being fine as hell and having that great body had her a little excited about getting to know him better, but all that quickly changed
Vincent Alexandria

37

once he moved her into his home and she witnessed his rage when a drug dealer disrespected him. Dread dealt with him quickly and violently and took over four hundred and sixty thousand dollars of his drug money on his way out. Dread never blinked an eye and Chase knew she was in too deep.

Now Chase can’t stand the sight nor smell of him, nor the thought of herself being undercover as his woman.

The consequences of the assignment slaps her in the face and she realizes that if her cover is blown, she’s as good as dead. Chase hasn’t heard from Agent Smelley in a week, and Dread has doubts about him and his loyalty to the organization. Smelley infiltrated the organization a week before she did, by setting up a drug dealer for Dread and his task force to take down, keeping half the money and turning the rest in to the department. Everything went so smoothly and they even got accolades for the bust. Smelley was in good from that point, but he started to ask too many questions too soon.

God, let him be careful and safe,
she thinks.

She slowly starts to enjoy the water pulsating against her skin, imagining Joe next to her as it streams from her face down her neck and flows over her breasts and nipples. The hot water streams down her arms, over her belly, cascading between her legs and toes. She slowly caresses her shoulders, hugging herself.

The million droplets of water are like tiny fingers af-fectionately caressing her skin. Her ecstasy rises as she imagines Joe entering her. She pulls her hair back from her face and begins to stroke her clitoris until her body trembles uncontrollably, and she falls breathless against the white-tile wall. Weak at the knees, she holds on to
38

Black Rain

the soap dish for balance and giggles at the thought of Detective Joe Johnson seeing her this way.

Chase smiles, soaps her sponge and washes away the pleasure she has called forth. As she rinses off, the shower door is yanked open. She pulls her razor from its place in the soap dish, flips it open and holds it at the intruder’s throat.

“Oooh, baby, you know I love it when you play rrroouugh,” Dread says as he eases his neck away from the sharp blade and hands her a towel.