“Okay. But what did you mean I rely too heavily on my talismans? Aren’t they my tools to connect?” ABCs asked.
“Yes, but we must take it a step further. You must go to the Ouija... not to connect, but to ask,” the Shaman said. ABCs heard the Shaman rustling some papers. Knowing instructions were coming, he pulled a pad and pen from a side pocket of the chair, ready to take notes.
“I want to take the final step and have its power with me always,” The Alphabet King said. “The past few times I have performed the ritual with the Ouija, the connection faded after a few hours.”
“Or when you encountered this man with a power similar to yours,” the Shaman added.
ABCs sighed. “Right.”
“Like I said, we must act. Now. I have the chants and instructions for the final ritual. Do you have a pen and paper?” the Shaman asked.
𓂓
Jackie and Michael had been working in silence. She zipped up the med pack, done restocking it, and turned to give Michael a doubtful look. “So, what did you mean by help from above?”
Michael gave Jackie an affiliative smile. “I’ve called in a favor to my contact at the DEA. They are going to give us drone support.”
“Drone support?” Jackie shifted in her stance and crossed her arms. “How is that going to help?”
“There’s more.” Michael outlined the plan in more detail while Jackie listened intently.
The skeptical look left her face. “Okay, that’s better than I expected. I only see one problem... How can we be sure ABCs went to this Guantanamo place?”
“Good question—already thought of it. The drone will fly over the warehouse first and do an infrared scan. If it’s empty, then the only other option is this wanna be Gitmo.”
“Gitmo?” Jackie asked.
“Old-school slang for the original Guantanamo Bay.”
Jackie frowned. “Oh, now I remember. That place...” Her voice trailed off.
Michael nodded in agreement. “Bad, I know. Try not to worry. We need to focus.”
Out of nowhere, Jackie stepped in and gave him a strong hug. He hesitated for a moment, hands out to his sides, unsure what to do. Then he rested them on her back, patting her softly. She let out a few soft sobs. “Thank you so much, Michael.”
He took her in his arms, responding by fully embracing her. Her hands found the back of his neck and pressed the tense muscles gently. A woman’s touch there stirred him in a way he hadn’t connected with in a long time. Abstinence didn’t suit him, but it had been the only way.
Intuition spoke to him, she lingered a little too long for this just to be a friendly hug. Maybe she doesn’t realize it. She’s just upset and needs comfort. But she is desperate to get her daughter back. I won’t be manipulated. This has to stop.
Building alliances with strangers who were about to put their lives on the line must be hard. Somehow, she had taken charge of all of them. Michael admired her leadership but became wary of her methods as her fingers fell from his neck to his back and flexed, unconsciously pressing her nails into his muscular back.
Jackie realized the intimacy in her gesture when he tensed his muscles in response and slid her hands to the back of his arms. One hand clinging to an arm, she leaned back and palmed the other hand on his chest. “Sorry,” she whispered as damp eyes searched the furrows of his shirt.
Michael only issued a low grunt in response but held her waist for a brief moment as she arched her back and looked up at him, hardened tips brushed against his shirt as he let go. Her hips responded to the absence of his grasp by pressing against him, her eyes wet, she reached up and cupped his face in her hands. “You are a good man.” Then she broke eye contact and took a short step back, but stayed in his space, not quite ready to break the connection.
Without Jackie noticing, he flashed a concerned glance over toward Clay, but he had leaned back and closed his eyes. The past few seconds seemed more like several minutes to Michael. Her words had struck him. The affirmation, ‘a good man’, filled Michael with a sense of purpose, striking a bolt of energy to the very core of his soul. Most times, that’s all a man needs—a few kind words. Recognition. It seemed like a cliché to call her an Angel on Earth. But to him, that’s exactly what she was at this moment—radiant in the darkness of tonight’s events. Even after all she had been through, this woman served as an absolute inspiration to those around her.
The lights in the shop flickered. They both looked up, and with that, their thoughts were brought back to the task at hand. “Thank you for saying that. Let’s do this.”
Jackie stepped back and gave him a nod, the strength and determination showing in her posture. But he noticed that she had a look about her like she needed to get something off her chest. “Hey, look, I...”
Knowing he should stay silent, Michael searched her face as she tried to find the words.
Jackie looked at the bullet gash on his head, then gave Michael a tentative glance as she continued. “I know I froze in the parking lot, but you were in my line of sight. Won’t happen again.”
“I’m glad you know how to handle a weapon, but it’s an entirely different thing to actually shoot someone,” Michael replied.
𓂓
Just after 5 p.m. on a Wednesday, Jackie had pulled her car into the mostly empty parking lot and slowed to get her bearings. Most of the company employees had already left. She’d been instructed to pull up to the sidewalk right in front of the side door and park there so she wouldn’t have to walk far with armloads of presentation materials.
After parking the car, she sat back, breathed deep, and smoothed her hands over her muscular thighs, pressing the fabric of her long navy-blue skirt out one more time. The importance of this meeting could not be overstated and having just made partner at the prestigious marketing firm, things needed to go smoothly. The deadline had been made clear by the managing partner. This deal needed to be closed by the end of the week.
Jackie looked into her rearview as a van pulled up, close behind her. The sun angle prevented her from seeing the driver. Since no one got out of the vehicle, Jackie became suspicious immediately. Evan had been gone a few weeks, but his paranoid mindset stuck with her. Having been a recon marine, he’d been trained to look for threats everywhere and, as might be expected, he passed this habit on to those around him.
Jackie opened her purse and glanced at her Sig P365 just to be sure she could get to it easily. Once Evan learned she had no experience with weapons, he took it upon himself to train her. Eventually, he convinced her to obtain her carry license. She had chosen the Sig because she liked the compact size as well as the feel of it at the gun range.
An insistent phone alarm reminded her that it was time to head into the meeting. Right on time. “Timing is everything,” a senior partner had told her. “And we have to be on it.” Jackie gave one more doubtful glance in her rearview. Still no motion around the van but she didn’t have time now to park elsewhere. She would have to walk around either the front or the back of her car and then down the sidewalk past the sliding door of the van. She huffed and cursed Evan for making her so damn paranoid.
“Let’s go, Jacquelyn,” she said out loud. Words her mother used when she needed to get her daughter moving.
Jackie decided to leave her purse unlatched just in case. She pulled the straps over her right shoulder and opened her door. She placed one leg out and turned to glance back in the direction of the van. No one in the driver’s seat. Nothing. She moved the rest of the way out and found balance on her heels before closing the door. Taking a couple steps to the side, she opened the driver’s side back door and pulled out her oversized briefcase containing her presentation materials. “Physical props still sell,” the senior partner had reminded her. Jackie made a quick decision and decided to walk around the front of her car and avoid the temptation to look inside the van.
As she mounted the sidewalk, Jackie focused on the path before her but kept the van in her peripherals. Something seemed odd about it, and her senses tingled. There appeared to be no driver, but she had not witnessed anyone get out. Probably just a delivery. She hurried her pace and looked ahead for the entrance she needed. The moment she passed the sliding door, Jackie heard a loud clunk from inside the windowless van. She stopped in her tracks and lowered her stance slightly before swiveling her head, but nothing happened. Cursing the inherited paranoia once again, she hurried her pace and gained entrance to the building to make her presentation.
About an hour later, Jackie came out the same door with a spring in her step. Having closed her first deal on her own, she knew her recent promotion would be justified to those who had been against moving her up after only a handful of years with the firm. As a single mother, it took a weight off her mind to know she would be able to provide for her daughter and more.
She strolled by the van on her left without a second look, lost in thought. Purse over her right shoulder, the portfolio swinging on the other side. A soft metal clunk from the van caught her attention. The side door slid open quickly and hit the stoppers with a thud. Jackie instinctively crouched as she turned to look. Two men in balaclavas hopped out—one holding a metal pipe, the other only had a roll of duct tape. The first man with the pipe took two quick steps toward her, lifted the pipe, and swung it down in a slow arc toward the back of her head.
