Episode 011

                “This can only end in tears.”
                                Battly, Anastasia

                Everett sat on the couch in his living room, staring at the spotless space before him. He glanced at the cleaning supplies still in the bucket with the mop, their dull presence dampening the shining hardwood floors and the spotless walls.

                As soon as Everett leaned his head back in exhaustion, though, there was a knock at the door. He looked up from the couch, glancing at the door. He checked his watch, seeing the early time. “That’s got to be Edgar.” He mumbled to himself. He stood up, dressed in sweats and his tank top. “Only he’d be forty-five minutes early.” There was another knock.

                “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He called. He unlocked the door and opened it.

                A well-dressed man stood before him, a pair of intense eyes dominating his already imposing presence. “Morgan.” Everett said, shock on his face.

                “Hey, Ev.” Morgan said, his voice as stony as his face.

                “What are you doing here?” Everett said, his voice surprised, but his eyes narrowing.

                “Edgar called me and told me about the meeting.” Said the man in the doorway to the apartment. “He said he wanted me to come.”

                “I hate to sound rude, Morgan, but you’re not a knight anymore.” Everett said.

                “Would you like me to leave?” Morgan asked directly. Everett glanced down, thinking. But he stepped back, holding the door open for Morgan.

                “You think the sniper is one of Jericho’s men?” Aaron asked, as he sat in his office, looking at Ian and Errol.

                “Looks that way.” Errol answered, leaning on the large table to the side of Aaron’s office. Next to him, Ian sat in the chair at the table.

                But Aaron said nothing. He turned around behind his desk, looking to the opposite side of the room at the two men who sat at the chairs against the wall. “Orson. Uriel. What about you guys?”

                “Not much, boss.” Orson said, with a sigh. “The plutonium’s pretty well secure under the lake. Nobody there seems to know it’s there, but it’s lodged in pretty tight.”

                “How the hell did Phillip and his boys get that canister that buried?” Uriel asked, flipping a throwing knife between his fingers. “The things the size of a car’s trunk. And it’s now lodged underneath a portion of the building’s supports.”

                “The better question is what idiot would build a building halfway over a lake?” Errol asked, looking to Orson.

                “Yeah, but these are corporate types.” Orson said. “I don’t expect much from them.”

                “True.” Ian nodded.

                “Guys.” Aaron said, looking harshly at the four. “A young mother was killed today. By all evidence, by a sniper trained by the Brotherhood and using Brotherhood equipment. I don’t like this one bit.”

                “What do you want us to do?” Errol asked to Aaron. “If we make any overt move towards Jericho or his men, then there’ll be hell to pay.”

                “I know.” Aaron said. He turned slightly against his desk, leaning on his fist. He glanced out the large window behind his desk at the night sky that spread behind him. “Maybe I should take this to the triumvirate.”

                “You sure?” Orson asked. He looked at Errol, then to Ian and Uriel. “The Triumvirate doesn’t take lightly to being called. They do the calling.” Several moments of thought passed.

                “Uriel.” Aaron said commandingly, turning to the four. “I want you to go and find Phillip tomorrow. Tell him I want to talk to his head designer, that Ernesto guy. Ian,” Aaron continued. “I want you to get a plane ticket and head out to the construction site. Talk to Mint and Ken. I want to know what’s going on with the site and how long they have before they need to the plutonium. While you’re there, I want you to gauge the level of their progress and try and figure out if you can tell if they’re really going to build this behemoth of a fortress that they say they are.”

                “What about us?” Orson said to Aaron, looking to Errol. “What do you want us to do?”

                “Errol, I want you to talk to some of Jericho’s men.” Aaron said. “I want to know how he’s training them that they’re so badass. If this comes to blows, and I hope it doesn’t, then we’re going to need muscle to rival theirs.” Aaron swiveled his chair to Orson. “Orson, I want you to hit the libraries of the Brotherhood as well as the civilian libraries and try and see what you can find out about this ‘World Alliance’ thing that Jericho seems to be gunning after. Are they a branch of the UN, or are they directly linked to the Illuminati. I need to know everything.”

                The four stood up, nodding their heads. They turned to leave. “Errol.” Aaron called. The tallest of the four stayed back until the door closed. He turned to Aaron. “The Hands of the Brotherhood don’t take kindly to snooping.” Aaron said cautiously. “Be careful.”

                “I will be.” Errol said sincerely.

                “It’s been one incident.” Ledger said, as he sat on the couch between Roland and Edgar. “One shooting. Tragic, sure. But it’s one incident.”

                “The police reports said it was the same type of gun that was used at the club shooting.” Armand said, leaning against the bar top with Everett. He looked over nervously at Morgan, then back to Ledger. “That’s got to sound suspicious to you.”

                “Suspicious, I’ll grant you.” Ledger said uncaring. “But I don’t think it’s cause for alarm. Not yet, anyway.”

                “Then what is?” Edgar asked, looking over at the Ledger as he leaned against the high armrest of the couch. “Five people? Ten? Twenty?”

                “Look.” Ledger said. “I’m not being insensitive here. But let’s face it. We simply don’t have much to go on. Somebody gets shot at a dance club with a twenty-two rifle. Then somebody gets shot at a mall with a twenty-two. Tragedy, yeah. Suspicious, maybe. But cause for alarm, no.”

                “The bullets were made traceless.”

                All eyes turned to Morgan. Leaning against a chair, his arms were crossed over his chest, his reading glasses reflecting the light. “The bullets were custom work. That means someone put time and energy into this.”

                “Meaning?” Roland asked.

                “Meaning there will be more shootings.” Morgan stood up and held up his right hand. “A club owner into some nefarious deals.” He held up a finger. “And a mother with two children.” He held up another finger. “What’s the connection?”

                No one ventured a guess.

                “Answer?” Morgan said, almost sarcastically with a dead-straight face. “None.”

                “To Malcolm.” Marilyn said, holding up her glass of soda. “For escaping the clutching jaws of the political system.”

                “Don’t you mean justice system?” Tim asked, laughing.

                “Shut up.” Kim laughed, holding up her glass also. Around the circular table at the back of the empty restaurant, the six sat around their drinks, waiting for their celebratory food.

                “To Malcolm.” Victor said, finishing the toast with his soda. The six glasses clinked together and they went back to their owners. Victor leaned in next to Marilyn, kissing her neck, while Kim sat between Tim and Malcolm, with Ruwani finishing the circle between Malcolm and Victor.

                “Why didn’t Alan come?” Marilyn asked, looking to Kim.

                “He’s with his band, rehearsing.” Victor said, before Kim could answer. “I don’t think he’s been to an Alliance meeting in two months.”

                “He’s just busy.” Kim said. “He’s part of the security team, under you, Victor. You should know how busy he is.”

                “I just don’t think he’s really dedicated.” Victor said candidly, yawning a bit.

                “You’re just jealous because he beat you at arm wrestling.” Kim said, laughing.

                “He didn’t beat me.” Victor said, shaking his head. “It was a draw.”

                “He beat you.” Ruwani said, giving Victor a look.

                “My knuckles never touched the table top.” Victor said, sipping his soda. “It’s not victory unless the knuckles touch.”

                “Whatever.” Ruwani said, holding up her hands.

                “I thought said you won that match?” Marilyn said, looking at Victor.

                “I told you about a different time.” Victor said, still drinking. “That was the first time he beat me.”

                “I thought it was the first time you guys had arm wrestled.” Kim asked, surprised.

                “No.” Victor said, but after speaking, he turned to Malcolm. “Are you going to Kung Fu tomorrow, or are you staying with your crappy Tae Kwon Do?”

                “How ‘bout we step outside after dinner and find out?” Malcolm asked, with a grin.

                “You’re on.” Victor said powerfully, sipping his soda.

                “So you think the victims were random?” Everett asked to Morgan. The six sat almost in a circle around the small living room of Everett’s apartment.

                “I think the woman was.” Morgan said. “The club owner, no. That was planned.”

                “Planned?” Armand said. “Like the bouncers and the sniper were in cahoots?”

                “Exactly.” Morgan said. “You and those other people couldn’t have beaten the bouncers as easily as you did. They took a dive once you and Everett showed up.”

                “He might have a point.” Ledger said to Everett.

                “This, of course, brings up two problems.” Morgan went on. “One, this means the sniper’s victims will, most likely continue to be random. And two, it means he’s either got support or at least has access to someone who lets him know where to be and when.”

                “Is there a chance that the club mission was a one-time operation?” Roland asked. “And then, maybe, the mother at the mall was on his own?”

                “Maybe.” Morgan shrugged indifferently. “But that still simply points to the fact that, no matter what, there are going to be more shootings.”