Dirty Work: Part 2

He looked bewildered. “Jackie? What’s going on?”

“Kid, my name is Agent Moore and these are my colleagues, Agent Lanier and Special Agent Hanks. You know me as Jackie, the eighteen year old ingénue.” She looked down at her gear. “Obviously that was my cover. You have information we need to put a very dangerous person behind bars for the rest of his life. A man who murdered your brother. His real name is Akar Mudada, but you know him as Maserati Meek. Would you feel comfortable testifying against him? We could also offer you Wit-Sec.”

Kid continued to feign shock at this revelation. Jackie was cold and standoffish as she detailed how their investigation had grown and how he connected the dots for them. He repeatedly said he was terrified of the warlord, and the feds insisted that he would be safe. That soon enough Akar would be off the streets.

“When is he being arrested?” Kid wanted to know. “Are you picking him up today?”

“Not that soon, but it’s under control. Don’t worry. We have men doing surveillance if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

&nbs

p; Finally Kid complied. “Whatever I can do to help put my brother’s murderer away, then I will.”

Before she left, Agent Moore lingered behind. When Lanier and Hanks were out of eyesight she smiled at Kid and whispered, “Keep that window unlocked.”

***

Maserati Meek had been anticipating word from Ghost. When he got the video, a small wave of relief washed over him, but it wasn’t over yet.

The call came early that evening. Meek had the money, three million dollars—1.5 million in each of the two duffel bags as he was instructed. But he wasn’t ready to give it up without a fight. Ghost and his cronies had to meet him face-to-face—he assumed, and when they did, Meek would be ready to go ham on them. However, he needed the safe return of his parents first.

In six black Tahoes, Meek and his men drove to the location in the Bronx. They arrived at an abandoned baseball field not too far from City Island. The area was somewhat secluded, and a few trees covered the vicinity. A few yards away was an open field adjacent to a bay.

The doors to the Tahoes opened, and several armed men removed themselves from the vehicles. There was no one there except for them—a mass of killers ready to react when told. Meek looked around. He was certain it was the location that he was told.

“Are we in the right place?” Amir asked him.

“Yes. Baseball field, it’s correct.”

“So where are they?”

Maserati Meek didn’t want to be bothered with questions. His main concern was getting his parents back safely and destroying this character named Ghost. A few minutes went by and still nothing. It was at a standstill in both directions of the road.

Then the burner phone sounded and Meek quickly answered it. “I’m here, waiting as instructed,” he growled at the caller.

“I see you brought some company with you. You were supposed to come alone.”

“Wherever I go, they go with me. No exception, eh.”

The caller Ghost chuckled. “I can respect that.”

“What do you want us to do now? I have the money.”

“Just wait. You’ll see soon.”

The call ended, leaving Meek baffled.

Five minutes later, something caught Meek and his men’s attention. It was coming from the bay, something hovering; it was approaching them at a moderate speed. Each man looked up and was transfixed. Unbelievable. There were two huge phantom drones, their propellers buzzing noisily and fast like wings on a bee. The drones were specially equipped with a carrying mechanism—four iron claws underneath each of them. They landed in the field. Meek was in awe. He watched these machines, and the machines watched him with their cameras.

The phone rang, and Meek answered. “Attach the bags to the drones, and I’ll do the rest. You do anything stupid, and your parents are dead.”

The realization of how clever this heist was didn’t go over Meek’s head. He did what he was told. His men attached the duffel bags to the iron claws, and their grip around the bags tightened. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. There would be no face-to-face with the man named Ghost. He seemed to have thought of everything.

Once the bags were secured, the drones started to lift from the field, hovering with 1.5 million dollars under each of them. The weight of the bags was tested earlier, and the creator of the specially made drones assured Kid that it would work. The drones hesitated to lift higher for a split moment, due to the weight of the cash—but in due time, they elevated into the air and headed toward the bay—headed toward the direction they’d come from.

For a moment, Meek and his men stood around watching, still in awe. The drones were flying over the water and fading from their sights. Then suddenly, Meek yelled out, “Follow them!”

The men hurried into the trucks and tried to give chase, but the spot Ghost had chosen was for a purpose. A body of water and marshlands surrounded the area, and to attempt to follow the machines would be futile. No matter how hard they drove, the drones were quickly lost.