The Kasparov Agenda (Omega Ops Legion Book 1) (30 page)

***

Oswalt was riding the elevator to the top floor of Jack Solly’s office tower. He was told he could find Jack at his office after initially trying the Seaberg Lounge. Of course, he only became privy to Jack’s whereabouts after waiting on multiple calls sent up the daisy chain by his goons, to verify if the information should be disclosed to Oswalt.

Solly’s office was located in Queens, where he masqueraded as a real-estate mogul. For the most part, the public saw Jack Solly in a good light due to his philanthropy. Oswalt exited the elevator and walked through the lobby to Solly’s office. A burly man named Roland stood in front of the door. He served as Solly’s doorman and guard. “I’m here to see Jack,” Oswalt stated.

“He’s in a meeting and doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

“That’s fine, I can wait,” Oswalt replied. He took a seat in the lobby and folded his arms in front of himself.

Present in Solly’s office was none other than Spike Luxembourg. He was there with two men from his outfit. Spike was in his mid-thirties, was well-spoken, and had only the slightest hint of a German accent. He kept himself well-groomed and well-dressed. He was a gangster with class, and in the Bronx underworld, Spike reigned king.

“I have tremendous respect for you, Jack, but I’m afraid I can’t follow you down this destructive path.”

Jack Solly eyed Spike from the other side of his desk. “If there ever was a time to go to war,
now
is that time. Scorcher has been flexing his muscle for far too long in this city, and both of our operations have suffered because of it. At this moment, with the increased pressure he’s facing from police and the Legion, we need to pile on.”

“To be perfectly candid, Scorcher is still on the attack, and he still has your number marked. If I were you, I would go into hiding until this all blows over,” advised Spike.

“I can’t. I’m a public figure—I have responsibilities. We have to act
now
. We can take out Scorcher once and for all. Together, we can do it, Spike.”

Spike shook his head in disagreement. “His position is not as weak as it appears. If we run this race, we will lose.
Guaranteed
. I advise against this, Jack.”

Jack smiled. “You are wise beyond your years, Spike. But he stole millions from me and cut off my ties with Elmo Burns. I don’t have a choice at this point.”

Spike sighed and rapped his knuckles on his chair’s armrest. “This is what I can do, Jack. I won’t directly partake with the offensive, but I will make it so that you can contribute more of your resources to the attack. I will provide you with weapons from my German contacts overseas. And I will provide manpower and resources to defend against retaliation.”

“That should be enough—I can work with that.” Solly stood up and extended a hand over the table. “Thank you, Spike.”

Oswalt looked indifferent upon seeing Spike and his men leave the office. Oswalt stood up and walked up to Roland. “Empty your pockets, arms spread.”

“Well, I can only spread one...” Oswalt complied as best he could in a sling while Roland patted him down thoroughly. He picked up the polyethylene baggie that Oswalt had removed from his pocket and examined it. “What’s this?”

“That—would be evidence.”

Roland raised an eyebrow, then threw the bag back to him. “Name?”

“Oswalt Fletcher.” He retrieved his belongings from the floor.

“Oh, you’re Oswalt Fletcher?” Roland smiled grimly at him. Oswalt assumed that all of Solly’s men had been informed about the potential rat they had in their employment. Roland placed a call on his cell phone. “Mr. Solly, I have Oswalt Fletcher outside here. He’s requesting an audience with you.” Roland listened attentively while Solly gave his response. “Okay, will do, Mr. Solly.” He hung up the phone and ushered Oswalt inside to a second door. Oswalt knocked and was greeted by yet another goon, who allowed him entrance into Solly’s office. The goon sat down on a chair next to the door and watched Oswalt’s every move like a hawk.

Oswalt walked up to Jack. “I’ve got something for you.” He pulled out the evidence baggie and tossed it on Jack’s desk.

Jack picked up the baggie and flipped it over in his hands. “What’s this?”

“That’s a pen picked up from the crime scene of Brody’s death.”

Jack looked at Oswalt, amused. “And why would this interest me?”

“Because according to the evidence log, that pen actually has a concealed blade inside it and was used to puncture Brody’s hand.”

Solly’s eyes grew wide. “A pen blade...”

Oswalt nodded. “Take a closer look; the initials ‘S.T.’ are monogrammed in gold on the body of the pen. Mean anything to you?”

Jack rolled the bag over in his hand to pick out the initials and stared at them transfixed. “I know who this is...”

Oswalt raised an eyebrow. “Really...”

“Samuel Turly.”

It was Oswalt’s turn to be surprised. “You’re joking... He’s an internationally wanted man.”

“This pen. This is one of his—quirks. He’s gained a notorious reputation in the underworld for murdering people with nothing but his pen. I wasn’t sure how true the stories were, but I suppose this adds some credibility to the claims. I’m surprised he would allow himself to lose it.” Jack laughed while he stared down at the pen. “I’ve had the displeasure of encountering this man in my many years involved in this business. He’s elusive. He’s a cornerstone in Scorcher’s network, and this proves he’s here in New York, right under our noses.” Jack looked at Oswalt and smiled at him. “I take it this was stolen from police control?” Oswalt nodded. “Very good, Mr. Fletcher. Don’t wait around for your innocence to be proven; you have to get out there and claim it for yourself. Wells is still MIA, but you’re one step closer to being back in the fold.”

Oswalt smiled grimly. “Good to know.”

***

Kasparov Manor, 6:00 p.m.

Ding-dong
. Varick made his way to the door warily. As far as he knew, no one was expected here. Without making the slightest noise with his steps, he peered through the peep hole...then groaned. He opened the door. “Jeezes, what are you doing here?”

“I would’ve called ahead, but I didn’t have a phone number.” It was Laura Bennett.

“The manor doesn’t have a phone.”

“Big mansion, no phone—
that’s classy
.”

“Well, come in if you’re coming in.” Varick ushered her inside, took a quick glance outside, then shut the door. “You weren’t followed or anything, were you?”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “Is it just you that’s paranoid, or is that a trait all you Legion members share?” Varick stared at her expectantly. Laura rolled her eyes. “I know when I’m being followed—
no
,
I wasn’t followed.”
 

“Good.” Varick shrugged. “Sorry, just a bit on edge these days. Let me take your coat.”

“Thanks.”

Bruce, Alex, and Leo were drawn to the door by the chatter. “Hello, there!” Bruce greeted. Varick introduced the three of them to each other.

Laura shook hands with Bruce and Alex. “Very nice to meet you both.” She pointed between Varick and the Kasparovs. “So, all three of you are part of the Legion?”

“Well, technically Alex isn’t,” Bruce corrected.

“But I’m working on it,” said Alex.

Leo walked up to Laura’s feet and stared up at her. “Hey, how are you, Leo?” Laura bent down to pet him.

“I see you’ve already met our local mutt.” Leo’s head turned sharply to growl at Bruce. “Relax, buddy, I’m just yanking your chain.” Bruce smirked and whispered to Laura: “He doesn’t like being called a mutt.”

Laura grinned. “Sounds like Varick’s dog alright.”

Bruce laughed. “Right!? So, what can we do for you, Ms. Bennett?”

Varick folded his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, why
are
you here?”

“Well—”

Bruce put out his hand to stop her. “Hold on, where are our manners. Take off your shoes and join us in the living room, where we can have a proper sit-down.”

Laura shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Bruce, Alex, Varick, and Laura sat down on the leather couches around the coffee table.

“Hungry?” Bruce asked.

“No, I actually had a bite to eat before coming.”

“Drink?”

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

“You sure?”

Laura nodded. “Yup, I’m good.”

Varick eyed Bruce. “Finished?”

“Hey, I was just being hospitable, it didn’t seem like you were going to do it. Varick’s socially oblivious,” Bruce informed Laura, who laughed.

Varick ignored him. “So, what’s this about, Laura?”

Laura’s smile vanished and she looked at Varick seriously. “I want to join the Legion.”

“Really?” Varick was not expecting that and, frankly, was slightly confused by it. “Why?”

“Because it has become painfully clear to me that there are large forces at work within this city that reach out much further than New York. Forces that reach o
utside our jurisdiction.
But not outside the
Legion’s
. I think it would be beneficial for both parties to allow the sharing of resources: to more efficiently and better serve the public.”

“Technically, we already do that,” Varick stated. “I mean, I’ve worked with Roy and Henry for years, and they keep us up to date with police intel.”

“I actually talked to them before coming here. They have no interest in joining the Legion. They’re content with being on the outside of it, but I’m not. I became a police officer to uphold justice. To help make the world I live in a safer place for everyone. If joining the Legion means I can better carry out those duties, I owe it to myself and everyone else to do so. I understand that Roy and Henry give you information, John. Well, I can be the liaison to gather information that the Legion has, to help with police investigations. We’re both fighting the same battles. Just tell me how I can join—give me a chance to prove my worth.” She looked from Varick to Bruce anxiously. “Please.”

“Well, you definitely got the right attitude,” Bruce said, impressed. “It’s simple really—you only have to get the approval from a full-fledged member of the Legion to join the club. So, tell me a little bit about yourself. Detective Laura Bennett in a nutshell.”

“Is this the interview?”

Bruce grinned. “There’s no interview. This is just getting acquainted. You want a glass of wine? Maybe a beer? Something harder?”

Laura laughed. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” She stared curiously at Bruce, trying to size him up. “You know, first impressions—you aren’t the brute the media is currently making you out to be.”

“Glad you feel that way. But Varick, on the other hand...” Bruce shook his hand. “Ehh...”

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen a bit of that side from John.”

“Probably because you still call me John,” Varick said, irked.

“You know what would really piss off John? A nickname.”

Bruce’s face lit up. “Yes. Yes!”

Laura rubbed her hands together. “Let’s see now... Johnny boy? Little Johnny!”

“Johnny Appleseed!” Bruce added.

“Johnnycakes!”

Alex put his fist in his mouth out of respect for Varick, but Bruce exercised no restraint and burst out laughing. “Oh ho-ho! I think we have a winner! Our little Johnnycakes, you just want to eat him up!” Bruce tried to ruffle Varick’s hair, but Varick grabbed his wrist.

Varick concealed his urge to laugh with a sneer. “If any of those become a running thing, I
will
kill you both.”
 

“You can try to, but I wouldn’t bank on it.” Bruce broke free from Varick’s grip. “Okay-okay, back to business. So far, I like the way you think, Laura.” Bruce shot a half-glance at Varick and managed to push down another bout of laughter. “But what about the media?
You’re not bothered by everything they’ve been saying about us in the papers? Over the radio and television?”

“I can think for myself. If anything, the media bombardment just makes me more certain I want to join. I’ve worked side by side with Legion members, and it’s clear to me that all the negative publicity is
BS
.” She looked at Varick. “John, if the other members have the heart you do to fight for what’s right, I know this organization is something I want to be a part of.”

Bruce stroked his chin. “Actually, on second thought—Varick, you already know Laura, right? Is she Legion material?”

“What?” Varick said, startled. Laura looked at Varick expectantly. “I—well...I mean, yeah, she’s a good detective. Santos has met her too; I’m sure he feels the same way. And she’s helped me out of a few jams.” Laura beamed at him.

Bruce shrugged. “Well, that’s good enough for me. Varick’s given you the okay—you’re in.”

“I’m in?”

“Yeah. Welcome!”

Laura’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand. Just like that? Isn’t there some sort of test or training to complete?”

“Nope, that’s it. Leo didn’t bite you, if you want to call that a test... He’s a good judge of character.” Leo was lying down on the carpet by Laura’s feet.

Laura laughed. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Well, I mean, there’s formal training available, but it’s not mandatory. All you really need to join is to come of your own free will and have the desire to positively contribute to Legion duties. If you were expecting to write an exam and have a fancy graduation ceremony commemorating your admittance...well, sorry to disappoint.”

Laura smiled. “No, I just wasn’t expecting this level of casualness. I thought there would be some sort of structure or rigidity that new recruits would be put through.”

Bruce shook his head. “Not here, sorry. Mind you, there is structure: rules, training, ranks, the whole package. It’s just eased into and goes at the pace the person’s comfortable with. People that are new recruits start as ‘acolytes’, a fancy term we like to use for the rookies. They receive instruction and training from a full-fledged Legion member—their sponsor, so to speak.”

“My dad is the one that’s training me,” Alex informed Laura.

“Training... And by training, do you mean that thing you guys do where you turn your hand into a firearm, in the most literal sense of the term?”