Krypto-Night

In the south the heat and humidity made things like parking lots go from slightly unbearable to flat out toxic and stale mid-summer. As Danielle Cree breathed in she took this into account same as she did the look a couple gave her as she moved through the parking garage. They were paying too much attention to her. Were they the people she was meant to meet?

As Cree approached the couple it seemed they didn’t know exactly know how to play the pieces in the game, or they were pretending not to know. A man with salty black slicked back hair wore an old Astros jersey, jeans, flip-flops and he had a kind of CEO freckly face with deep brown eyes.  The woman’s bright green eyes seemed to shine with distrust behind light brown hair adorning her pasty pudgy face, she wore a button-down green blouse with jeans and running shoes. 

Not how they paint Agents of the law in the movies, for sure. 

They weren’t attractive, or ugly. In fact, they weren’t seemingly exceptional in any way save for the split second that they flashed their badges. Cree considered the significance of these two being able to fit into any crowd and go unnoticed as the woman opened the passenger door, gesturing for her to get into the blacked-out Lincoln sedan. When Cree brushed past the woman a sudden feeling in her gut created a phrase in her mind, ‘they’re suspicious of you dear’.

“Isn’t there usually a code of silence about these things?” 

Agent Jessica Jackson spoke from behind her as she closed the rear door. To counter the vulnerable stance, and to calm the hair on the back of her neck Cree pulled her knees to her chest and turned completely around in the passenger seat. Now facing Agent Jackson and the back corner behind Agent Gregory Grant in the driver’s seat.

“I suppose there is, if you’re complicit in matters concerning the secret. Yea.” 

Cree leaned back against the glove box. 

“In this case, I thought the odds of these teenagers from my school being in a legit gang… Well, I thought it was one of those potential can-did camera moments. Ya know? I laughed, literally, at a group of them. Even asked where the camera guy was.”

Cree paused for a moment picking at something on her hand, trying to contain her emotions. 

“Who knows with social media these days right? When I realized they were legit claims, I blatantly told everyone I thought involved, to get out of my life.”

Agent Jackson noted that the girl just seemed to talk, rambling on a bit nervously, choaking back tears randomly. Though she considered this female wasn’t complicit, she also knew that most informants were on the take in one way or another, at some point or another. 

“So, what do you want to share about what you claim to be gang activity?”

“These people say they run with some gang called ‘Tango Blast’. Involved in who knows what, with knows who. From what I have seen at this club, mmm young people in their teens being taken advantage of by older men and this was three years ago. Just last week these people I met at school took me to the same club with a different name and entering through a different entrance. They have something there called a ‘rape cave’ man. Fear tactics like you would’nt believe that would‘a worked on me, ya know? Had I not survived a war.”

Agent Jackson looked at her partner, from what they heard about this club, they knew this chick was telling her the truth even if her story was a bit hard to digest.

Cree laughed continuing. “I smoke a bit of weed man, that’s it. I’m into that kumbaya kinda life. Not this jacking people up for five bucks or playing with teenagers or kids. People aren’t and should not be treated like a commodity!”

Agent Jackson had found in her phones database a photo of one man the girl continued to mention. When she pulled up the mug shot, she held the screen of the phone toward the girl and asked.

“This the guy?”

When Danielle reached for the phone to get a better look Agent Jackson moved the phone out of reach in a hurry. Danielle squinted, watching her eyes for a moment before glancing back at the mugshot. 

“Yea, that’s the dude. Although the guy in this picture is a much younger version.”

As she spoke, having suddenly reached the threshold of what she could deal with, Cree began pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket and realized how tense everyone became. A slight shake of her head and a heavy sigh escaped her as she opened the passenger door before setting the paper on the seat behind her.

John Barrok stood up from the managers seat behind the entrance booth to the club. As he headed to the last stop on his usual rounds he followed the music seeping out the open door and the broad-shouldered bouncer manning it, he peeked out just far enough to see the line of people already wrapping the building. The breaking of the heat wave meant this Friday night was going to be nonstop, everyone previously locked away in their houses coming out in droves to dance the night away.

A heavy slap on the man’s shoulder and they nodded to each other, it was time to check the back area and then the security room. 

The back area was a large portion of the warehouse that was blocked off from the patron’s area. As he slid behind the false wall, he nodded at the bartender who monitored the ins and outs of this exit before he disappeared into a hallway with one large room on either side. Within the rooms were rows and rows of cheap stand-up tables with lines of women wearing nothing but their undergarments and medical masks. They carefully weighed, separated, and dispersed some of the powdery drugs into tiny capsules and bags.

It was early in the evening and one of Agent Jackson’s favorite things about a light drizzle was how it lit up the streets with glimmering lights. Downtown always seemed to shimmer the most, the odd dazzling reflections off the corners of historical buildings.

This being her first operation to lead she knew she had the respect of her men, but she also knew that being a woman meant she needed to be better than perfect for this not to ruin her.

They had substantial evidence that there were large quantities drugs being moved in, within, and out of this club.

The pocket of her lower pant leg began to vibrate, and she knew it was her informant. Stepping around from the group she checked the message. There was the confirmation they needed.

“Alright let’s move out.”

Agent Jackson gave the order and twenty-four members of S.W.A.T. and a hoard of Agents moved out and toward the block where the club was located.

Chris Casanova leaned forward leering into one of the camera monitors, a big gulp in one hand he moved to get the mouse and bring up camera three on the largest screen.  Behind him he could hear the footsteps and John's voice carrying across the back rooms.

“Hey Boss? You got to see this.”

Though the guy was usually wired, John noticed he was a bit more anxious than usual this evening. Though John didn't care much for the kid he decided to indulge him anyway.

“What?”

“That.” Casanova pointed to the crowd forming at the far end of the parking lot a few blocks down the road from their back entrance.

“Oh?”

John turned to look and gave a moment of consideration to the police station a few blocks from there. Could it just be a drill? At ten on a Friday?

It was then that his phone beeped with a text message, and then another text message. It was his girl informing him of what she had just heard whispered about a big bust. As he looked back to the cameras showing the cops crossing the street, he realized he might have just enough time to escape.

“Shit. Chris, go tell everyone to hide what they can. Leave some out so these jokers think they got us.”

With a quick glance to his phone, he jumped on the employee’s com’s.

“Code pink everyone, code pink. Open the doors, let everyone outside, in.”

John turned and ran into an old bootlegger’s tunnel that ran alongside the bayou next to the club, the club goers had officially named it the ‘rape cave’. There were no lights and only one way in, one way out... Unless you knew what to look for, a hidden rope ladder which led up to street level just outside the neighboring building. 

As John climbed his way up toward the steel plate of the exit hatch, he bent his head to the side and shouldered the hatch. When it didn’t budge a nervousness grew in his stomach, birthing an onslaught of doubt that gave him the adrenaline rush he needed. When he hit the hatch a second time, he heard the seal break as well as the rope ladder supporting him. Quickly he he pushed the heavy plate to the side and took in a deep breath of the free polluted humid air of downtown sweeping across his face. As he climbed to his feet he slid the hatch closed again watching the rope ladder fall below.

The old VW bug he stowed in the neighboring building had been there for these exact purposes. Noone would expect a large gangster to be driving a tiny, rusted out VW bug. When he climbed into the driver seat he leaned to the side and pulled the console off the steering wheel, feeling around the inside of the piece he felt the taped key inside and set it in the ignition. The car sputtered, began to idle, and started to die before he pumped the gas pedal lightly. This gave it just enough for the engine to turn over and rumble to life. John sighed with relief and shifted to drive before slowly driving around the corner to the front of the building. 

When he got onto the freeway his phone began chiming and beeping nonstop. The only call he answered was necessary and a part of the contingency plan.

“Hey, I heard. Are you ok baby?”

“I’m fine. What is it little bird?”

They’d only talk if she had info he needed. Otherwise, she took care of his business so that he could get his family out and away. It was rare to have a female down like that.

“You know that boy Crocket?”

John sought back in his memory; he had met a white boy they used to have all kind of nicknames for… how did he know him? Then he remembered the kid who prolonged his third strike when he took the wrap for a break in that he and his little brother had gotten caught for when he was just a little tike.

“What about him?”

John knew that man would not say anything to anyone.

“His older sister.”

“Good job little bird.”

The next morning when the birds were high in the trees and the sun had just risen above the horizon John awoke in his bed to find his Boss sitting in the armchair by the window.

“Your family on vacation John?” 

One large man sat leering nearby and another just outside the bedroom door.

“We lost a lot of business and resources last night. Do you know why that is?”

“Because of a dirty rotten snit…”

“No. You became complacent. I know it, you know it. Dating my daughter, not keeping your head on straight.”

John hid his look of surprise when he noticed the Boss waiting for his reaction.

“I know everything…” A long slow heavy exhale as he leaned forward and leered at John over the top of his glasses.

“Except when and how you’re going to handle the snitch.”

When John stood to pull the sheets around his waist both larger men became more. John sat back down.

“I already know the who. I’ll take care of it one way or another. You have my word.”

Words. Cree stared into the computer screen mindlessly after researching for hours. Curiosity had taken her down a rabbit hole where she found articles and evidence that communities riddled with gangs have shorter life expectancy. Fifty would be almost ancient for gang life, what with the allure of friends more like family who are always down for you, strength in numbers, someone always having your back; who wouldn’t want it?

It was like that golden goose, so desirable that most people bought its existence hook line and sinker. As she began to rewind the things that happened to her brother over time, she began to realize her brother had been one of those people.

There was a gas station near the trailer park at the end of the neighborhood where they grew up. Though he was no older than twelve years, he knew he could run with the big boys and when he asked his big sister Dani for a ride in her new car, he knew she couldn’t resist. 

It was some hours that passed before Cree’s brother rang in a panic, asking if she could reach her parents who weren’t answering at home. The cops were requiring a parent or guardian to come and get her brother, or he was heading to booking.

The details of the event were never shared with Cree but as their mother climbed into her car scolding and slapping her little brother his only response was to Dani some days later.

“It was going to be that guys third strike, for me it was juvy at most.”

That wasn’t the only time he threw himself on the chopping block for someone else, it ended up being what may become a lifelong stigma for her brother. The knight beaten by his own guilt and sense of misplaced loyalty. A future that very well could have been Dani’s too, yet something always kept her from the darkest of nights. Perhaps the slip of a toe in those kinds of waters chilled her so close to the bone, that it still being cool to the touch years later… remains warning enough.

The night was young when her brother knocked on the door bringing a bag of green and a stranger, she considered it somewhat lucky. That was until the strangers’ vibes began to make her stomach twist and her brother excused himself to argue with his girlfriend outside. 

The way John moved around her made her curious. The man knew she was homosexual on account of the posters and flags hanging on her walls and yet he began to lay on the charm thick. 

“You know I could make you a lot of money.”

“Ha. Oh yea? How’s that cowboy?” 

Cree had turned the volume off on the tv and left whatever show playing while she tinkered with something in the kitchen. 

“How’s ten grand a month sound? You could pay off a good lawyer for that legal problem you ran into.”

Cree moved into the living room where John had moved from chair to chair until he finally settled in the only lazy boy in the room.

“Who says I have legal issues?”

John laughed as he patted the fluffy arms of the chair and kicked back reclining easily.

“Little birdies tell me things.”

Suddenly John stopped and looked at Cree but made no moves out of the chair.

“Oh girl. I’m so sorry. Did I take your chair?”

Cree kind of laughed as she noted his dismissal of her question. 

“Honey, they are all my chairs.”

It was then that John realized he was dealing with a different kind of female, one he couldn’t just charm. So, he reasoned fear would set her in her place.

When sabotaging her life in every way imaginable still did not put this female in her place, John finally resorted to the only thing he could think of. They had to put her down for good, and it had to be done discreetly.

The man he sent to the coffee shop she frequented had been about the closest thing to psychotic he’d ever met, but he’d do anything for anyone without needing a reason. Which made him perfect for the job.

When Cree walked into the coffee shop to get a regular cup of joe as she had done for weeks since beginning classes at this new school in a new city. Something felt weird about the man she saw at the counter putting sugar in his cup. A part of her wanted to leave, get coffee later, but the next class was cold and the class slow.

When she leaned across the man who was still putting things in his coffee to get a straw, the man did not move.

As Cree walked back to class the first sip of her coffee was strangely bitter, but the not so immediate response to her empty stomach was fierce.

Months later when she heard some kids at school joking as she passed by about the reaction of poisoning someone with visine did she realize what had made her so sick and how much she sacrificed for telling her truth. The truth about what people will, can and do to each other. For any reason.

It was then she decided she'd do it again, and again and again. Screw the consequences, people are worth more.