A Family Affair
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just playing around with them. Enjoy!
Chapter 34.
Ian Nottingham took an indirect route to his vehicle, keeping to nearly deserted back alleys whenever possible. The only people he saw or who saw him were the homeless. Over the past several months, these denizens of the trash-strewn alleys in the vicinity of the 11th Precinct had become accustomed to seeing the tall, black-clad man who moved with the silent grace of a big cat and who possessed the uncanny ability to merge with the shadows, becoming virtually invisible from one moment to the next. They never saw him after nightfall unless he wished to be seen, and rarely in the same place twice. Although they knew his name, they called him Shadow Man, or simply Shadow. He rarely spoke, preferring to listen, but when he did speak, his deep, quiet voice had the ability to calm even the most fearful and agitated among them. Often, he would give them money, but only if they promised to buy food, clothing, or medicine with it.
The homeless were used to people avoiding eye contact with them, whether out of shame, fear, or a misguided sense of guilt. However, they soon learned that Shadow's habit of avoiding their gazes was not motivated by any of those things. On the rare occasions that he did make eye contact, the men and women living in those back alleys were struck by the depth of the sadness and loneliness in those enormous, oddly innocent hazel eyes. What they glimpsed there made them realize that having almost limitless wealth as well as a warm place to sleep every night did not mean happiness. Not even close. And so, when they saw him hurrying away from the alley next to the precinct that cold, blustery afternoon, his face a mask of pain, their hearts went out to him. They had noticed how he would spend hours in that alley, in all kinds of weather, hoping for a glimpse of the beautiful, green-eyed female detective who worked at the police station. And, unnoticed by the woman, they had witnessed how cruelly she treated him whenever he dared approach her, and how, like someone who has become far too used to being treated poorly, he took the abuse without complaint. But today, something had caused Shadow to retaliate instead of just taking her insults, and for the first time, the street people heard his voice raised in anger.
Once out of sight of the furious woman and her companion, his stoic façade crumbled, and they feared for his sanity when they saw how he sagged against the brick wall of the alley and beat at his head with his fists, mouth open wide in a soundless scream of torment. They watched as he jumped, startled, then reached into his coat pocket and took out his cell phone, his tear-filled eyes widening in astonishment when he saw who was calling. They listened as he answered the call, his voice clipped and cold, and flinched when he savagely rejected the apology offered by the person on the other end of the line, hanging up. They saw how he began trembling after he did this, his face contorting with anguish, and then how he had to struggle to regain his composure, when, minutes later, the phone he still clutched in his gloved hand vibrated again. They observed the amazing transformation his haggard face and slumping body underwent as he listened to the woman he loved apologize again, and they felt a huge sense of relief as they realized that the Shadow Man's will to live had been restored to him in the nick of time. Only then did he become aware of them and their concern for him, reassuringly returning their relieved smiles and listening to them as they gave him advice on how to cure the fever he was obviously suffering from. When Shadow finally left them, they felt confident that they would see their kind and gentle benefactor again, and somehow, at least for a little while, their miserable existence didn't seem as harsh. The money he left behind for them to use to seek shelter from the coming storm saw to that.
****
When Ian reached the vicinity of his vehicle, he spent 15 minutes in the shadows of an alleyway carefully observing the surrounding area before approaching the SUV and unlocking it.
He had parked near the sidewalk vendors again, and as he opened the driver- side door, he noticed the odd-looking fellow who'd sold him his hat and scarf the other night staring intently at him. When he saw that Ian's gaze was on him, the old man nodded. For some reason, the stranger's scrutiny did not alarm Nottingham, which would have been the case under normal circumstances. He merely inclined his own head in acknowledgement and got into the car.
Outwardly, Ian was calm and collected; inwardly, he was seething with myriad emotions, elation chief among them. Sara cared for him! More importantly, she considered him her friend. And although it wasn't what he truly wished for, which was that she love him as deeply as he loved her, it was a start and it gave him hope that one day she might come to consider him to be more than a friend. Ian had been filled with shame at the way he'd allowed her to goad him into losing his temper in the alley next to the 11th Precinct. He had managed to convince himself that he'd ruined any chance of winning her respect and admiration with his churlish behavior, when, stunningly, she had called him to apologize. The white-hot flare of anger that filled him at her further chastisement caught him by surprise, and he blamed his high fever for the moment of insanity that made him reject her apology and hang up on her. Despair had swamped him as he realized that his worst fears were coming true: now that her nephew was almost out of danger, she was reverting to her antagonistic ways of old. With a heavy heart, he'd resigned himself to once again being regularly subjected to her insults and biting sarcasm. He could live with that, he told himself, as long as he could occasionally see her and be near her. But, truth be told, he'd felt almost suicidal at the thought of once again seeing suspicion and distrust in her beautiful green eyes every time they met. And then, miracle of miracles, she had called him back, and this time her apology had been undeniably sincere. All was right with his world again. Sara cared for him!
A wave of exhaustion swept over Ian, accompanied by the renewed throbbing of his head. 'I'll just close my eyes for a minute and meditate,' he thought, shrugging out of his overcoat. 'Then I'll move the car to another location.' Although he was fairly certain he hadn't been followed, he was reluctant to take any chances by remaining in one place for any length of time. But he was so hot and so very tired. He closed his eyes.
His vibrating phone awakened him. Groggily, he glanced at the dashboard clock and instantly became alert as he saw that it was 17:30; nearly three hours had elapsed since he'd gotten into the SUV.
Taking his phone from his pocket, he squinted at the display and saw an unfamiliar number. "Ian Nottingham," he said, answering it.
"Yeah, Mr. Nottingham, it's me, Alonzo."
"Good evening, Mr. Brown."
"Uh, good evening. Um, I called to tell you I just heard from Angel. He wants me to pull lookout duty tonight, starting at 7:00."
"That is excellent news, Mr. Brown. Of course, you told him that you would be there."
"Yeah."
"Very good. Here is what you must do: report for duty as usual. The factory will be raided shortly thereafter, and you will be taken into custody. However, I promise that you will not be prosecuted. In fact, you will be well compensated for your cooperation in this matter. Also, I must warn you that cell phone activity in the vicinity of the ice factory will be monitored, so I will not be able to contact you and you should refrain from attempting to call me until after the drug bust takes place. I will arrange for someone to bail you out of jail."
"Okay. Angel and his brother ain't gonna know it was me who gave them up, right?" the young man asked anxiously.
"No. You and your family will not have to worry about reprisal. You have my word on that. Thank you for your call, Mr. Brown. I will be in touch with you soon." Ian hung up and then called Sara.
"Pezzini, go."
"Sara, Mr. Brown just called me. He is reporting for lookout duty at 19:00 hours," Ian told her.
"That's great news, Nottingham."
"I take it the decoy operation was a success."
"Yeah, it went down as planned about an hour ago. Joey's safe and sound, and Joaquin's none the wiser. They even planted a false report of the shooting on the radio, in case Angel, Joaquin, and their gang at the abandoned factory were listening."
"I am very happy to hear that young Joseph is safe."
"His parents are very relieved, too. I'm gonna pass Alonzo's info along to the joint task force, and then I'll see you later, okay?"
"First, let me give you Mr. Brown's cell phone number, just in case the task force decides to utilize Angel's beeper number," Ian said, reciting it from memory. "I should also tell you that I promised Mr. Brown that he would not be prosecuted for his part in this and that he would be bailed out tonight."
"I'll be sure to take care of that. And thanks for the number." She paused, then lowered her voice. "How are you feeling, Nottingham?"
"My headache is gone," he told her, realizing that it was true. "I managed to . . . meditate for a while, and I believe that slowed the rise of the fever somewhat."
"Just hang on for a few more hours, and then we'll head to Westchester. Goodbye, Nottingham."
"Goodbye, my Lady." Ian hung up. He glanced across the street, and saw the same sidewalk vendor looking in his direction. Abruptly, Nottingham got the strongest feeling that the old man had watched over him while he slept. He lifted a hand in farewell as he started the SUV, and the man nodded once again before turning away to help a customer.
****
Sara Pezzini hung up her phone. "That was Nottingham," she told her partner. "Our informant just called him to say he's been tapped for lookout duties starting at 7:00 tonight. I'm calling Captain Phillips and Mike."
"That's good news. With any luck this'll all be over by 8:00, maybe 9:00 tonight," Danny said.
Sara's phone call ignited a flurry of activity as the joint task force rapidly began laying the groundwork for the bust. Into the hubbub walked Gabriel Bowman.
"Hey, Gabriel! Job well done," Sara said, hugging him. "Everything went fine. Joey should be arriving home shortly. They put him in a squad car about half an hour ago, and he told me he had a lovely visit with Amanda in spite of all the intrigue."
"I guess your informant came through, judging by all of the excitement," Gabriel said, noting the swarming detectives and DEA agents.
"Yeah, Nottingham called about 20 minutes ago," Sara said. "The bust will probably go down at around 8:00."
The dark-haired young businessman glanced around to make sure nobody was within earshot or looking their way. "Here's your badge back, Detective Woo," he said, handing it to her partner.
"Call me Danny, Gabriel. So, how'd you like being an undercover detective?" Danny asked him.
"If it's all the same to you guys, I'll leave it to the professionals in the future. Scary to think all I had to do was flash your badge and school security let me in. But I thought the gig was up when I said 'unpaid library fines' after one of the security guards asked me why I wanted to speak to Joey in private. Luckily, the guy started laughing," Gabriel grinned.
"As you intended, right?" Sara said, grinning back at him.
"Actually, it's official: I'm pretty much useless under pressure. I honestly couldn't think of anything plausible to tell the guard. That was the first thing that popped into my head," the young entrepreneur admitted sheepishly.
"Wow, and you're not even blond," Danny cracked, shaking his head.
"What's that about being blond?" Jake McCartey asked, walking into the partners' office.
"Nothing," Danny muttered. "Have you met Gabriel Bowman, Jake? He's a friend of ours."
"Jake McCartey," the rookie detective said, shaking the younger man's hand. He turned to Sara and handed her a jacket that said "NYPD" in large yellow letters on the back. "Captain Phillips told me to give you this, Pez."
Sara took it from him. "I guess this means Dante gave the okay for me to tag along," she murmured.
"It's not like he had much choice. You really pulled the joint task force's bacon out of the fire with everything you did," Jake said, open admiration in his bright blue eyes.
"No wonder Dante looks like he's been sucking on lemons," Sara smirked, glancing across the hall at their scowling captain.
"Wanna ride along with me and Orlinsky, Pez?" Jake asked.
"Sure. I guess you get to sit this one out, hunh, partner?" Sara said to Danny.
He shrugged. "I'm not complaining. As soon as I get off, I'm going grocery shopping with Lee and the kids in preparation for the blizzard."
"Lucky you. My sister-in-law invited me to ride it out in Brooklyn with them, and I took her up on it," Sara said. "I won't truly believe Joey's safe until Angel and Joaquin are behind bars and I can give the kid a big hug."
"If all goes according to plan, that'll be pretty soon," Jake said.
"Well, I'm gonna get going, Chief," Gabriel said. "A few of my clients want to do some business before the city gets shut down by the snowstorm. I'll speak to you later, okay?"
Sara gave the dark-haired young man another hug, and for good measure, a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, and thanks again for everything, Gabriel."
He flushed with pleasure. "Sure, any time. And when you see Nottingham again, tell him I hope he feels better soon." With a last little wave, he walked out.
"Nottingham," Jake said slowly. "Where have I heard that name before?"
"Maybe through the grapevine," Danny smirked, giving Sara a sly look.
"No, I don't think so," the rookie murmured.
"Uh, so, do you know when we're moving into position for the bust?" Sara swiftly changed the subject.
"Within the hour, I think," Jake said. "I'll stop by when we're ready to go."
"Great." She heaved a sigh of relief when he left.
"Where did he hear that name before if not from the gossipmongers?" Danny asked curiously. "And what's wrong with Nottingham?"
"He's got the flu," Sara said, then sighed, deciding to come clean about the favor Jake had called in for her several months ago. "Shortly after I first met him, I tried to find out who Nottingham was, seeing as he kept turning up wherever I went, but I got nowhere through normal channels. You were out on vacation that week, and the rookie was partnering with me. Jake offered to ask a friend of his who works for the FBI to see what he could find on Nottingham."
"And what did this friend find?"
"Not very much. Guy keeps a low profile," Sara murmured.
"Yeah, I guess so. Now that I think about it, I've read a lot about his boss, Kenneth Irons, but I don't recall ever reading or even hearing about Nottingham. Tells me he's very good at his job." Danny stood up and grabbed his coat. "I'm heading home. Call me and let me know how things went. I doubt we'll see each other tomorrow if the forecast turns out to be correct."
"Goodnight, Danny." She watched as he briefly stopped by their captain's office before leaving. Dante threw her a sullen glare, and she ducked her head, quickly pretending to root around in her desk drawer for something.
****
Gabriel Bowman hurried down the cold, dark street, his bare hands shoved in his coat pockets. He was about a block from his apartment when he decided to stop off at the nearby bodega to buy some cold cuts and a few other things, given the coming storm. He glanced down the street and then did a double take. Parked at the curb were three delivery trucks.
Ordinarily, he wouldn't have given this a second thought, but something about these particular trucks nagged at his memory. Frowning, he tried to figure out just what it was as he did his shopping. But it wasn't until he'd paid for his purchases, left the store, and returned to his apartment that realization dawned on him. On their sides, the trucks said "Hostess," "Entenmann's," and "Wonder Bread," and Gabriel was pretty sure that was exactly what Ian Nottingham had feverishly muttered in the alley next to the 11th Precinct earlier that afternoon.
"There are no coincidences," Gabriel murmured. He picked up his phone and dialed Sara Pezzini's cell phone.
"Pezzini, go."
"Hey, Chief, it's me."
"Hey, Gabe. What's up?"
"This is gonna sound a little crazy, but I felt I should mention it to you. Do you remember what Nottingham said in the alley earlier today, before you guys, um, argued?"
"He said a bunch of things, Gabriel. Could you be more specific?"
"In a kind of distracted voice, he said 'Entenmann's, Wonder Bread, Hostess,' and after Danny left, you asked him what was with the Rain Man impression."
"Yeah, I remember now. What about it?"
"Well, just now I went to the bodega around the corner from my apartment and I noticed three delivery trucks parked across the street. Three Hostess, Entenmann's, and Wonder Bread delivery trucks."
"I hate to break this to you, kid, but baked goods don't magically appear on the shelves of the supermarket. Somebody delivers them," Sara said snidely. "Look, I gotta go. We're moving into position."
"Okay, but I didn't see any deliverymen, and I could be wrong, but don't deliveries usually take place in the morning?"
"With the blizzard coming, they might be out late. I'll speak to you later, Gabriel. Bye."
"Bye, Chief." Gabriel hung up, and started to put away his groceries. But he could not shake the feeling that what he'd seen was important. 'Better safe than sorry,' he thought, and dialed Ian Nottingham's number.
"Yes, Mr. Bowman?" the assassin said, answering on the second ring.
"Who was it who said 'There are no coincidences,' Nottingham?"
"I believe it was me," Ian replied dryly. "Excellent work alerting young Joseph to the danger he was in this afternoon, by the way."
"Uh, thanks. Anyway, as I was heading home after dropping off Danny's badge, I noticed something I thought I should bring to your attention," Gabriel said, and proceeded to tell him about the delivery trucks.
"Interesting," Ian murmured after the younger man finished speaking. "Thank you for the warning, Mr. Bowman. I will keep my eyes open. Forewarned is forearmed."
"So, you think it's strange, too?"
"Yes. I could not put my finger on it before when I first noticed them, but now that I think about it, I believe deliveries to the grocery stores in the area usually take place on Wednesday. However, given the inclement weather headed this way, the distributors might have been forced to reschedule."
"Yeah, I guess so. It's probably nothing."
"Still, I appreciate your call, Mr. Bowman."
"Sure. Listen, Nottingham, I hope you get that antidote soon. Sara would be pretty upset if, um, something were to happen to you."
"You mean if I died."
"Uh, yeah."
"I have no intention of dying, Mr. Bowman."
"I know, but when you took off like that in the alley earlier, you had me a little worried."
"You perhaps better than anyone else should know that I could never abandon the Wielder. I am her Protector. I would fight to the death to defend her. She needs me." He paused. "However, I believe I have you to thank for her apology. Thank you," he said quietly.
"Oh, well, she would have called you on her own eventually. I just guilted her into doing it sooner rather than later," Gabriel said dismissively.
"I realize that I am in your debt, Gabriel. I will not forget what you did for Sara, young Joseph, and myself." Ian told him. "Thank you again for the warning. Goodbye."
"Bye, Ian." His mind at ease, Gabriel hung up the phone. "'Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've nowhere to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!'" he sang happily to himself as he finished putting away his groceries.
****
Ian kept an eye on the rearview mirror as he headed to the vicinity of the abandoned ice factory in Alphabet City, but didn't detect any sign of being following. Just to be safe, he chose a circuitous route and took the added risk of running a couple of red lights. Satisfied that he'd lost any tail that he might have had, he stashed the SUV in the conveniently empty garage of a building that had been a firehouse before being converted into a posh townhouse. The location was perfect: it was only a few blocks from the factory and possessed the added benefit of being hidden from view. With any luck, he would be long gone before the owners returned for the evening. Opening the hatch, Ian took out his katana and strapped it to his back, then he clipped various weapons and explosives to the harness he wore beneath his overcoat. Only then did he take to the streets, becoming just another shadow as he made his way to the decrepit warehouse across from the ice factory turned drug den.
As he approached the factory, Ian spotted Alonzo Brown standing in the shadows of the warehouse's loading dock, but the other man never saw him or heard him, although he passed within several feet of him. Upon reaching his rooftop vantage point, Ian settled down to wait for the action to begin.
The bust was accomplished without bloodshed. At 19:30, Ian saw a flurry of activity as the illegal inhabitants of the abandoned factory attempted to flee, apparently in response to a warning. Unfortunately, as no doubt had been intended, that warning came too late. With much screeching of tires, sirens whooping, and loudspeakers blaring, a phalanx of unmarked police cars and trucks descended on the area. Shouts of "Police," "DEA," and "Keep your hands where I can see them!" filled the air, as officers from the joint DEA and narcotics task force boiled out of the vehicles and surrounded the criminals.
Through his night-vision scope, Ian spotted the Wielder as she cuffed a suspect and read him his rights. He recognized Joaquin Medina, and smiled with satisfaction, then winced, momentarily blinded, when floodlights abruptly illuminated the factory and the street in front of it. Suddenly, in the distance, his ears picked up the sound of a truck's gears grinding. Rising, he scurried to the opposite side of the warehouse's roof and peered into the alleyway behind it. His heart rate increased and he felt a surge of adrenaline as he saw the Entenmann's and Hostess delivery trucks parked there. As he watched, a third truck, the one that said Wonder Bread on it and that was still being driven by someone unfamiliar with the way its gears worked, pulled into the alley next to the others. The back doors burst open and eight heavily armed men dressed in fatigues, their features obscured by camouflage paint and night-vision goggles, jumped out and darted into the warehouse upon whose roof Ian stood.
'Hmmm,' Nottingham thought, 'it appears as though my master's test has two parts.'
More to come. As always, thanks for your feedback. Keep it coming!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Witchblade characters. I'm just playing around with them. Enjoy!
Chapter 34.
Ian Nottingham took an indirect route to his vehicle, keeping to nearly deserted back alleys whenever possible. The only people he saw or who saw him were the homeless. Over the past several months, these denizens of the trash-strewn alleys in the vicinity of the 11th Precinct had become accustomed to seeing the tall, black-clad man who moved with the silent grace of a big cat and who possessed the uncanny ability to merge with the shadows, becoming virtually invisible from one moment to the next. They never saw him after nightfall unless he wished to be seen, and rarely in the same place twice. Although they knew his name, they called him Shadow Man, or simply Shadow. He rarely spoke, preferring to listen, but when he did speak, his deep, quiet voice had the ability to calm even the most fearful and agitated among them. Often, he would give them money, but only if they promised to buy food, clothing, or medicine with it.
The homeless were used to people avoiding eye contact with them, whether out of shame, fear, or a misguided sense of guilt. However, they soon learned that Shadow's habit of avoiding their gazes was not motivated by any of those things. On the rare occasions that he did make eye contact, the men and women living in those back alleys were struck by the depth of the sadness and loneliness in those enormous, oddly innocent hazel eyes. What they glimpsed there made them realize that having almost limitless wealth as well as a warm place to sleep every night did not mean happiness. Not even close. And so, when they saw him hurrying away from the alley next to the precinct that cold, blustery afternoon, his face a mask of pain, their hearts went out to him. They had noticed how he would spend hours in that alley, in all kinds of weather, hoping for a glimpse of the beautiful, green-eyed female detective who worked at the police station. And, unnoticed by the woman, they had witnessed how cruelly she treated him whenever he dared approach her, and how, like someone who has become far too used to being treated poorly, he took the abuse without complaint. But today, something had caused Shadow to retaliate instead of just taking her insults, and for the first time, the street people heard his voice raised in anger.
Once out of sight of the furious woman and her companion, his stoic façade crumbled, and they feared for his sanity when they saw how he sagged against the brick wall of the alley and beat at his head with his fists, mouth open wide in a soundless scream of torment. They watched as he jumped, startled, then reached into his coat pocket and took out his cell phone, his tear-filled eyes widening in astonishment when he saw who was calling. They listened as he answered the call, his voice clipped and cold, and flinched when he savagely rejected the apology offered by the person on the other end of the line, hanging up. They saw how he began trembling after he did this, his face contorting with anguish, and then how he had to struggle to regain his composure, when, minutes later, the phone he still clutched in his gloved hand vibrated again. They observed the amazing transformation his haggard face and slumping body underwent as he listened to the woman he loved apologize again, and they felt a huge sense of relief as they realized that the Shadow Man's will to live had been restored to him in the nick of time. Only then did he become aware of them and their concern for him, reassuringly returning their relieved smiles and listening to them as they gave him advice on how to cure the fever he was obviously suffering from. When Shadow finally left them, they felt confident that they would see their kind and gentle benefactor again, and somehow, at least for a little while, their miserable existence didn't seem as harsh. The money he left behind for them to use to seek shelter from the coming storm saw to that.
****
When Ian reached the vicinity of his vehicle, he spent 15 minutes in the shadows of an alleyway carefully observing the surrounding area before approaching the SUV and unlocking it.
He had parked near the sidewalk vendors again, and as he opened the driver- side door, he noticed the odd-looking fellow who'd sold him his hat and scarf the other night staring intently at him. When he saw that Ian's gaze was on him, the old man nodded. For some reason, the stranger's scrutiny did not alarm Nottingham, which would have been the case under normal circumstances. He merely inclined his own head in acknowledgement and got into the car.
Outwardly, Ian was calm and collected; inwardly, he was seething with myriad emotions, elation chief among them. Sara cared for him! More importantly, she considered him her friend. And although it wasn't what he truly wished for, which was that she love him as deeply as he loved her, it was a start and it gave him hope that one day she might come to consider him to be more than a friend. Ian had been filled with shame at the way he'd allowed her to goad him into losing his temper in the alley next to the 11th Precinct. He had managed to convince himself that he'd ruined any chance of winning her respect and admiration with his churlish behavior, when, stunningly, she had called him to apologize. The white-hot flare of anger that filled him at her further chastisement caught him by surprise, and he blamed his high fever for the moment of insanity that made him reject her apology and hang up on her. Despair had swamped him as he realized that his worst fears were coming true: now that her nephew was almost out of danger, she was reverting to her antagonistic ways of old. With a heavy heart, he'd resigned himself to once again being regularly subjected to her insults and biting sarcasm. He could live with that, he told himself, as long as he could occasionally see her and be near her. But, truth be told, he'd felt almost suicidal at the thought of once again seeing suspicion and distrust in her beautiful green eyes every time they met. And then, miracle of miracles, she had called him back, and this time her apology had been undeniably sincere. All was right with his world again. Sara cared for him!
A wave of exhaustion swept over Ian, accompanied by the renewed throbbing of his head. 'I'll just close my eyes for a minute and meditate,' he thought, shrugging out of his overcoat. 'Then I'll move the car to another location.' Although he was fairly certain he hadn't been followed, he was reluctant to take any chances by remaining in one place for any length of time. But he was so hot and so very tired. He closed his eyes.
His vibrating phone awakened him. Groggily, he glanced at the dashboard clock and instantly became alert as he saw that it was 17:30; nearly three hours had elapsed since he'd gotten into the SUV.
Taking his phone from his pocket, he squinted at the display and saw an unfamiliar number. "Ian Nottingham," he said, answering it.
"Yeah, Mr. Nottingham, it's me, Alonzo."
"Good evening, Mr. Brown."
"Uh, good evening. Um, I called to tell you I just heard from Angel. He wants me to pull lookout duty tonight, starting at 7:00."
"That is excellent news, Mr. Brown. Of course, you told him that you would be there."
"Yeah."
"Very good. Here is what you must do: report for duty as usual. The factory will be raided shortly thereafter, and you will be taken into custody. However, I promise that you will not be prosecuted. In fact, you will be well compensated for your cooperation in this matter. Also, I must warn you that cell phone activity in the vicinity of the ice factory will be monitored, so I will not be able to contact you and you should refrain from attempting to call me until after the drug bust takes place. I will arrange for someone to bail you out of jail."
"Okay. Angel and his brother ain't gonna know it was me who gave them up, right?" the young man asked anxiously.
"No. You and your family will not have to worry about reprisal. You have my word on that. Thank you for your call, Mr. Brown. I will be in touch with you soon." Ian hung up and then called Sara.
"Pezzini, go."
"Sara, Mr. Brown just called me. He is reporting for lookout duty at 19:00 hours," Ian told her.
"That's great news, Nottingham."
"I take it the decoy operation was a success."
"Yeah, it went down as planned about an hour ago. Joey's safe and sound, and Joaquin's none the wiser. They even planted a false report of the shooting on the radio, in case Angel, Joaquin, and their gang at the abandoned factory were listening."
"I am very happy to hear that young Joseph is safe."
"His parents are very relieved, too. I'm gonna pass Alonzo's info along to the joint task force, and then I'll see you later, okay?"
"First, let me give you Mr. Brown's cell phone number, just in case the task force decides to utilize Angel's beeper number," Ian said, reciting it from memory. "I should also tell you that I promised Mr. Brown that he would not be prosecuted for his part in this and that he would be bailed out tonight."
"I'll be sure to take care of that. And thanks for the number." She paused, then lowered her voice. "How are you feeling, Nottingham?"
"My headache is gone," he told her, realizing that it was true. "I managed to . . . meditate for a while, and I believe that slowed the rise of the fever somewhat."
"Just hang on for a few more hours, and then we'll head to Westchester. Goodbye, Nottingham."
"Goodbye, my Lady." Ian hung up. He glanced across the street, and saw the same sidewalk vendor looking in his direction. Abruptly, Nottingham got the strongest feeling that the old man had watched over him while he slept. He lifted a hand in farewell as he started the SUV, and the man nodded once again before turning away to help a customer.
****
Sara Pezzini hung up her phone. "That was Nottingham," she told her partner. "Our informant just called him to say he's been tapped for lookout duties starting at 7:00 tonight. I'm calling Captain Phillips and Mike."
"That's good news. With any luck this'll all be over by 8:00, maybe 9:00 tonight," Danny said.
Sara's phone call ignited a flurry of activity as the joint task force rapidly began laying the groundwork for the bust. Into the hubbub walked Gabriel Bowman.
"Hey, Gabriel! Job well done," Sara said, hugging him. "Everything went fine. Joey should be arriving home shortly. They put him in a squad car about half an hour ago, and he told me he had a lovely visit with Amanda in spite of all the intrigue."
"I guess your informant came through, judging by all of the excitement," Gabriel said, noting the swarming detectives and DEA agents.
"Yeah, Nottingham called about 20 minutes ago," Sara said. "The bust will probably go down at around 8:00."
The dark-haired young businessman glanced around to make sure nobody was within earshot or looking their way. "Here's your badge back, Detective Woo," he said, handing it to her partner.
"Call me Danny, Gabriel. So, how'd you like being an undercover detective?" Danny asked him.
"If it's all the same to you guys, I'll leave it to the professionals in the future. Scary to think all I had to do was flash your badge and school security let me in. But I thought the gig was up when I said 'unpaid library fines' after one of the security guards asked me why I wanted to speak to Joey in private. Luckily, the guy started laughing," Gabriel grinned.
"As you intended, right?" Sara said, grinning back at him.
"Actually, it's official: I'm pretty much useless under pressure. I honestly couldn't think of anything plausible to tell the guard. That was the first thing that popped into my head," the young entrepreneur admitted sheepishly.
"Wow, and you're not even blond," Danny cracked, shaking his head.
"What's that about being blond?" Jake McCartey asked, walking into the partners' office.
"Nothing," Danny muttered. "Have you met Gabriel Bowman, Jake? He's a friend of ours."
"Jake McCartey," the rookie detective said, shaking the younger man's hand. He turned to Sara and handed her a jacket that said "NYPD" in large yellow letters on the back. "Captain Phillips told me to give you this, Pez."
Sara took it from him. "I guess this means Dante gave the okay for me to tag along," she murmured.
"It's not like he had much choice. You really pulled the joint task force's bacon out of the fire with everything you did," Jake said, open admiration in his bright blue eyes.
"No wonder Dante looks like he's been sucking on lemons," Sara smirked, glancing across the hall at their scowling captain.
"Wanna ride along with me and Orlinsky, Pez?" Jake asked.
"Sure. I guess you get to sit this one out, hunh, partner?" Sara said to Danny.
He shrugged. "I'm not complaining. As soon as I get off, I'm going grocery shopping with Lee and the kids in preparation for the blizzard."
"Lucky you. My sister-in-law invited me to ride it out in Brooklyn with them, and I took her up on it," Sara said. "I won't truly believe Joey's safe until Angel and Joaquin are behind bars and I can give the kid a big hug."
"If all goes according to plan, that'll be pretty soon," Jake said.
"Well, I'm gonna get going, Chief," Gabriel said. "A few of my clients want to do some business before the city gets shut down by the snowstorm. I'll speak to you later, okay?"
Sara gave the dark-haired young man another hug, and for good measure, a kiss on the cheek. "Yeah, and thanks again for everything, Gabriel."
He flushed with pleasure. "Sure, any time. And when you see Nottingham again, tell him I hope he feels better soon." With a last little wave, he walked out.
"Nottingham," Jake said slowly. "Where have I heard that name before?"
"Maybe through the grapevine," Danny smirked, giving Sara a sly look.
"No, I don't think so," the rookie murmured.
"Uh, so, do you know when we're moving into position for the bust?" Sara swiftly changed the subject.
"Within the hour, I think," Jake said. "I'll stop by when we're ready to go."
"Great." She heaved a sigh of relief when he left.
"Where did he hear that name before if not from the gossipmongers?" Danny asked curiously. "And what's wrong with Nottingham?"
"He's got the flu," Sara said, then sighed, deciding to come clean about the favor Jake had called in for her several months ago. "Shortly after I first met him, I tried to find out who Nottingham was, seeing as he kept turning up wherever I went, but I got nowhere through normal channels. You were out on vacation that week, and the rookie was partnering with me. Jake offered to ask a friend of his who works for the FBI to see what he could find on Nottingham."
"And what did this friend find?"
"Not very much. Guy keeps a low profile," Sara murmured.
"Yeah, I guess so. Now that I think about it, I've read a lot about his boss, Kenneth Irons, but I don't recall ever reading or even hearing about Nottingham. Tells me he's very good at his job." Danny stood up and grabbed his coat. "I'm heading home. Call me and let me know how things went. I doubt we'll see each other tomorrow if the forecast turns out to be correct."
"Goodnight, Danny." She watched as he briefly stopped by their captain's office before leaving. Dante threw her a sullen glare, and she ducked her head, quickly pretending to root around in her desk drawer for something.
****
Gabriel Bowman hurried down the cold, dark street, his bare hands shoved in his coat pockets. He was about a block from his apartment when he decided to stop off at the nearby bodega to buy some cold cuts and a few other things, given the coming storm. He glanced down the street and then did a double take. Parked at the curb were three delivery trucks.
Ordinarily, he wouldn't have given this a second thought, but something about these particular trucks nagged at his memory. Frowning, he tried to figure out just what it was as he did his shopping. But it wasn't until he'd paid for his purchases, left the store, and returned to his apartment that realization dawned on him. On their sides, the trucks said "Hostess," "Entenmann's," and "Wonder Bread," and Gabriel was pretty sure that was exactly what Ian Nottingham had feverishly muttered in the alley next to the 11th Precinct earlier that afternoon.
"There are no coincidences," Gabriel murmured. He picked up his phone and dialed Sara Pezzini's cell phone.
"Pezzini, go."
"Hey, Chief, it's me."
"Hey, Gabe. What's up?"
"This is gonna sound a little crazy, but I felt I should mention it to you. Do you remember what Nottingham said in the alley earlier today, before you guys, um, argued?"
"He said a bunch of things, Gabriel. Could you be more specific?"
"In a kind of distracted voice, he said 'Entenmann's, Wonder Bread, Hostess,' and after Danny left, you asked him what was with the Rain Man impression."
"Yeah, I remember now. What about it?"
"Well, just now I went to the bodega around the corner from my apartment and I noticed three delivery trucks parked across the street. Three Hostess, Entenmann's, and Wonder Bread delivery trucks."
"I hate to break this to you, kid, but baked goods don't magically appear on the shelves of the supermarket. Somebody delivers them," Sara said snidely. "Look, I gotta go. We're moving into position."
"Okay, but I didn't see any deliverymen, and I could be wrong, but don't deliveries usually take place in the morning?"
"With the blizzard coming, they might be out late. I'll speak to you later, Gabriel. Bye."
"Bye, Chief." Gabriel hung up, and started to put away his groceries. But he could not shake the feeling that what he'd seen was important. 'Better safe than sorry,' he thought, and dialed Ian Nottingham's number.
"Yes, Mr. Bowman?" the assassin said, answering on the second ring.
"Who was it who said 'There are no coincidences,' Nottingham?"
"I believe it was me," Ian replied dryly. "Excellent work alerting young Joseph to the danger he was in this afternoon, by the way."
"Uh, thanks. Anyway, as I was heading home after dropping off Danny's badge, I noticed something I thought I should bring to your attention," Gabriel said, and proceeded to tell him about the delivery trucks.
"Interesting," Ian murmured after the younger man finished speaking. "Thank you for the warning, Mr. Bowman. I will keep my eyes open. Forewarned is forearmed."
"So, you think it's strange, too?"
"Yes. I could not put my finger on it before when I first noticed them, but now that I think about it, I believe deliveries to the grocery stores in the area usually take place on Wednesday. However, given the inclement weather headed this way, the distributors might have been forced to reschedule."
"Yeah, I guess so. It's probably nothing."
"Still, I appreciate your call, Mr. Bowman."
"Sure. Listen, Nottingham, I hope you get that antidote soon. Sara would be pretty upset if, um, something were to happen to you."
"You mean if I died."
"Uh, yeah."
"I have no intention of dying, Mr. Bowman."
"I know, but when you took off like that in the alley earlier, you had me a little worried."
"You perhaps better than anyone else should know that I could never abandon the Wielder. I am her Protector. I would fight to the death to defend her. She needs me." He paused. "However, I believe I have you to thank for her apology. Thank you," he said quietly.
"Oh, well, she would have called you on her own eventually. I just guilted her into doing it sooner rather than later," Gabriel said dismissively.
"I realize that I am in your debt, Gabriel. I will not forget what you did for Sara, young Joseph, and myself." Ian told him. "Thank you again for the warning. Goodbye."
"Bye, Ian." His mind at ease, Gabriel hung up the phone. "'Oh, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've nowhere to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!'" he sang happily to himself as he finished putting away his groceries.
****
Ian kept an eye on the rearview mirror as he headed to the vicinity of the abandoned ice factory in Alphabet City, but didn't detect any sign of being following. Just to be safe, he chose a circuitous route and took the added risk of running a couple of red lights. Satisfied that he'd lost any tail that he might have had, he stashed the SUV in the conveniently empty garage of a building that had been a firehouse before being converted into a posh townhouse. The location was perfect: it was only a few blocks from the factory and possessed the added benefit of being hidden from view. With any luck, he would be long gone before the owners returned for the evening. Opening the hatch, Ian took out his katana and strapped it to his back, then he clipped various weapons and explosives to the harness he wore beneath his overcoat. Only then did he take to the streets, becoming just another shadow as he made his way to the decrepit warehouse across from the ice factory turned drug den.
As he approached the factory, Ian spotted Alonzo Brown standing in the shadows of the warehouse's loading dock, but the other man never saw him or heard him, although he passed within several feet of him. Upon reaching his rooftop vantage point, Ian settled down to wait for the action to begin.
The bust was accomplished without bloodshed. At 19:30, Ian saw a flurry of activity as the illegal inhabitants of the abandoned factory attempted to flee, apparently in response to a warning. Unfortunately, as no doubt had been intended, that warning came too late. With much screeching of tires, sirens whooping, and loudspeakers blaring, a phalanx of unmarked police cars and trucks descended on the area. Shouts of "Police," "DEA," and "Keep your hands where I can see them!" filled the air, as officers from the joint DEA and narcotics task force boiled out of the vehicles and surrounded the criminals.
Through his night-vision scope, Ian spotted the Wielder as she cuffed a suspect and read him his rights. He recognized Joaquin Medina, and smiled with satisfaction, then winced, momentarily blinded, when floodlights abruptly illuminated the factory and the street in front of it. Suddenly, in the distance, his ears picked up the sound of a truck's gears grinding. Rising, he scurried to the opposite side of the warehouse's roof and peered into the alleyway behind it. His heart rate increased and he felt a surge of adrenaline as he saw the Entenmann's and Hostess delivery trucks parked there. As he watched, a third truck, the one that said Wonder Bread on it and that was still being driven by someone unfamiliar with the way its gears worked, pulled into the alley next to the others. The back doors burst open and eight heavily armed men dressed in fatigues, their features obscured by camouflage paint and night-vision goggles, jumped out and darted into the warehouse upon whose roof Ian stood.
'Hmmm,' Nottingham thought, 'it appears as though my master's test has two parts.'
More to come. As always, thanks for your feedback. Keep it coming!