Line Break! Coming in 2018 The fifth installment of the Roman Lee Series

LINE BREAK

John Bentley watched as Trey flipped on the faucet next to him only choosing to make eye contact in the mirror rather looking directly at him.

"Just received my email from HR.  Didn't have the balls to tell me yourself did you.  Probably much too busy."

The water was running while neither spoke still holding their position in the mirror.  Trey Walker continued berating him.

"So what's the view like these days?"

"View?"

"Sebastian Conroy's colon because you have moved far passed his asshole.  A group of us are considering a suit against the company including you."

"For?"

"You're an arrogant prick.  I could at least tolerate you before the procedure, not now.  This practice of hiring employees with enhanced capabilities puts the rest of us at a competitive disadvantage when it comes to promotional opportunity and advancement.  It's probably going to be a landmark case setting a precedent when it lands before the Supreme Court.  The silver lining is that you and Conroy will burn through loads of cash defending yourselves.  I'll sign on somewhere that's a little more human friendly."

John Bentley's pupils dilated unevenly to the shock of Trey Walker as he never blinked, not once.  His voice also changed a bit as he spoke.

"The proprietary information that you downloaded onto the flash drive located on your key ring should remain on the premises, Trey.  If it is found in your possession after you leave then the status of your separation from the company changes.  The severance package will be rescinded and we will prosecute.  I believe you can find the language in your employee manual regarding the security of corporate information.

"Fuck you freak! You and Conroy both."

Trey shook his dripping hands splashing the mirror with streaks of liquid not bothering to dry off as he stormed out of the lavatory into the hallway.

Water continued to flow from the faucet in front of John Bentley as his vision became evenly clear once more.  Looking down at the sink his hands looked like shrunken red prunes as hot water ran over them while his reflection was now somewhat altered by the addition of condensation.  His skin burned suddenly as he pulled away from the source of discomfort reaching for the automatic paper towel dispenser.

John Bentley had been in the men's lavatory for nearly twenty-five minutes yet could scarcely remember what had brought him there in the first place.

Brethren of Liberty 2017 The fourth installment

An explosion shatters office windows of the Robert F. Corrigan building in downtown Kirkwood during lunch hour. Minutes later a static filled radio call goes out beckoning any available units. As Roman Lee speeds towards the billowing smoke along with Lonnie Temple a second blast renders them unconscious.  The Brethren of Liberty have been plotting in the shadows for years.  A successful assassination of a Supreme Court Justice on the streets of Georgetown have parlayed into this recent demonstration of power and reach for the growing faithful bent on a Revolution.  Twelve- year old Simon Baxter is the only one who can identify the lone triggerman responsible for detonating the hellish devices.  Roman Lee must now protect his witness at all costs as he attempts to take down the largest domestic terror threat in United States history.

L-I-N-E B-R-E-AK COMING SOON! 2018! THE FIFTH IN THE ROMAN LEE SERIES

LINE BREAK

THE ROMAN LEE SERIES  # 5

She leaned over him barely touching his eyelids with her lips.  His bandaged head was considerably swollen and looked sore.

“Can you hear me John?  They said you did better than expected.  It took them just under four hours.”

“Thirsty.”

“Can someone get my husband something to drink please?”

She held the straw to his lips as he drew some of the ice water into his mouth before swallowing it.

“Better?”

He attempted to nod slightly but suddenly stopped wincing in pain.

“Easy honey, there’s no rush here, get some rest.”

“She’s right John.  Take your time.  Your health is first priority.”

Sebastian was leaning against the doorframe to the room.  He had changed out of his surgery scrubs into a Brioni pin dot striped suit.  Everything about him flawless, as always.

“Can we get a quick pic?  The world can hardly wait to see the newest power couple.”

Trina crouched down next to the bed as John managed to crack a smile.  The photo hit her Instagram and Facebook accounts almost immediately.  She looked at her phone for a second stopping the feed on their picture.  Trina Bentley could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw it.  John Bentley had liked the picture and had commented on it as well.  Looking at Sebastian now standing working on his phone smiling she glanced back at John.  His eyes now closed with a pleased look on his face.

“Did he just?  I mean, did he really?”

“Yes.”

“But how did he? His phone is…it’s in his bag.”

“He used the hospital’s Wi-Fi syncing his own device with the implant.  He is no longer bound by the traditional two thumb method to express himself from a cell phone.”

“I guess I really didn’t know what to expect.”

“That was a little test.  Are you impressed?”

“Freaked out is more like it.”

“This is the dawn of a new technological frontier, Trina.  John is its first pioneer.”

Sebastian’s phone was now becoming inundated with alerts and notifications from around the world.

Brethren of Liberty - Roman Lee Series #4 The pursuit of Simon Baxter

BRETHREN OF LIBERTY

ROMAN LEE SERIES #4

COMING SOON 2017!

There was a loud knock at her front door.

“Maintenance, battery changes for your smoke detectors.”

Finally she thought maybe they could take care of the fan while they were here.

“One minute.”

Turning to Simon she closed the bathroom door.

“Be right back.”

Simon turned the water off listening intently to the sounds coming from behind the door. The water dripped for a few seconds before subsiding.  What happened next was terrifying.

Aria opened the door slightly to allow what she thought was maintenance into the apartment.  She had done it before but realized it too late they had been recently changed over a month ago.  The door violently slammed against her body sending Aria sprawling to the floor with a thud.  Two men stood over top of her.  Both were dressed as police officers.  One had olive colored skin pulled Aria by the hair jerking her up to a standing positIon pinned against the wall.

“Where is he?”

His breath was hot and smelled slightly like alcohol.

“Please no.”

She watched as the barrel of the gun came up with its enveloping silver silencer now pointing in her face.  A split second later everything went dark.  Two muffled shots rang out causing a mild echo in the apartment.  Simon heard it along with feeling the weight of Aria’s body landing lifelessly on the carpeting.  Quietly he went out the window. Standing on the ledge he pulled himself up onto the roof knowing full well he could not outrun them with his injury.  He heard voices below in the bathroom.

“See him?”

“No, he’s gone.”

“Can’t be far.  Let’s go.”

Simon Baxter laid flat against the roof holding his breath trembling with fear.  The only person in his world at the moment who was aware of his current situation had been killed.  He had never felt so alone.  The battery in his broken cellphone now depleted he couldn’t call or text anyone if he wanted to.  Blood from his open wound dripped onto the scorching hot shingles sliding down toward the edge of the roof.  Tears rolled down his cheeks as he listened for any more sounds of his pursuers.

Brethren of Liberty Coming Soon !! November 2017

BRETHREN OF LIBERTY

An excerpt from my upcoming fourth book of the "Roman Lee Series"

The veins from the Brethren of Liberty were starting to widen considerably. Strategic resources were in place almost everywhere now. Even those who walked the halls of DC everyday but remained invisible to most. They were the ones who cleaned the buildings served the food yet some of them were homeless unable to put a roof over their heads. Most were eager to contribute as they had heard Senators mock the American people over lunch conversations. Scoffing at the thought of proposed term limits they were heard whispering to one another that they would only relinquish seats over their collective dead bodies. Little did they know how many were willing to assist with that conclusion and were close in proximity. Arrogance complimented with a shared sense of entitlement could be potentially blinding in the face of possible danger. Harris was counting on it.

Cole Steele's "Brethren of Liberty" 2017 Look for it later this year!

Wednesday July 3

10:35pm

The abandoned campground was located off a two track road leading deep into the woods.  About a mile through muddy uneven terrain before opening up into an expansive makeshift compound.  A rundown brick building which once served as a combination arcade and ice cream parlor for campers now was the general meeting house for the lower level BOL recruits and its foot soldiers.

A multitude of insects attracted by the exterior light near the main door swirled like a small cyclone.  Two generators hummed from a nearby shed providing the electric source of entertainment.  Peeling paint from the ceiling curled due to the excessive humidity.  A lone ceiling fan twirled slowly in a vain attempt to circulate the stagnant air.  Rows of folding chairs mostly rusted lined the open space in even rows.  Off in a nearby corner a fierce looking wood spider was finishing the larger portion of its meal.  A wayward cricket who’s grating chirping sound conveniently silenced before the speech was about to be delivered.

Gregory Hannifan stood silent for a moment in the sweltering heat.  His 220lb muscular frame built with years of tortuous training.  A vein the size of a garden hose running through his biceps pressed against the short sleeves of his UnderArmour shirt.  He carefully considered the words he was given having committed them to memory before addressing his audience.

“As many of you know our quest for freedom and independence began today.  I don’t have to remind you that our view of how government should serve its people is not aligned with the current landscape.  None of you would be here if your sentiment was any different.  We have been repeatedly failed by the electorate, lied to and misled for the benefit of foreign entities special interests and large corporations. Corruption greed and avarice of our Congressional leadership have been at the helm steering our beloved country far too long.  Everyone in this room and others like it around the country tonight have to realize what they are about to do will change this nation’s history.  I can testify before you with utmost certainty that this will not be an easy task.  There may not even be immediate benefits for a generation because of your sacrifices.  This may come as a surprise to some of you because of how conditioned we have become to instant gratification.  We need to reclaim the vision of our founding fathers.  What past patriots bled and died for.  That ladies and gentlemen is what is written in the Constitution.  Simplified life liberty and the pursuit of happiness where sovereignty reigns.  We will not be trapped in the perverse self-serving rhetoric embracing Globalization by politicians who have nothing left to sell but our freedom.  Our God given Constitutional rights have been pared down to skeletal remains of what they once resembled.  Make no mistake our collective life blood and commitment have left sight of the shoreline with only one destination.”

Cole Steele's "The Roman Lee Series" "Brethren of Liberty" Look for it in 2017 !!!

"Brethren of Liberty"

An explosion shatters office windows in downtown Kirkwood during lunch hour.  Minutes later a static filled radio call goes out beckoning any available units.  As Roman Lee speeds toward the billowing smoke with Lonnie Temple in the passenger seat a subsequent explosion renders them unconscious.  The Brethren of Liberty have been plotting in the shadows for years. A successful assassination of a Supreme Court Justice on the streets of Georgetown have parlayed into the recent bombing of a Federal building in downtown Kirkwood. It serves as a demonstration of power for the growing faithful hellbent on a promised Revolution.   Twelve year old Simon Baxter is the only one who can identify the lone BOL member responsible for triggering the destruction.  Roman Lee must protect his witness at all costs as he works to take down the largest domestic terrorist threat in U.S. history.

The Roman Lee Series "Crimson Rows" promises to be the hottest read for Summer 2017 Look for it next month.

Pulling out his thin laptop from a leather satchel Jaxon entered his password as the cover screen vaporized.  Using his right index finger he tapped on the file icon.  Pressing his thumb on the screen once more the processor took a moment to recognize it.  Seconds later the architecture plans appeared with the coordinates down at the bottom right corner. Quickly looking back and forth from the laptop to the device in his hands he rapidly punched in the location pressing firmly on the green send button.  Jonas Paez was critical to the next phase and his lack of communication was concerning.  Tapping out another message he sent it as a supplement.

Jaxon dressed throwing a sheet over the lifeless form before walking out of the bedroom.  Two tall figures stood outside the sliding glass door of the patio looking out at the Mediterranean.  The only presence of light were burning orange glows of cigarettes being smoked as the early morning sky darkened indicating a pending thunderstorm.  He cracked the door which caused the tightly rolled tobacco sticks to drop instantly extinguishing their smell which Jaxon always found repulsive.

“We have a problem that needs your attention.”

The door opened wider making way for the additional occupants.

“Where?”

“The bedroom, no traces this time.”

It had happened only one other time in Antigua.  He had accidentally killed another woman while having sex in the bathroom.  Long legs had been wrapped around his waist while he sought a position against the wall of the shower.  Slipping from his grasp she fell at an awkward angle  snapping her neck.  After a report of what looked like a body was removed from his bungalow he had been followed to the airport where his private jet was stopped on the tarmac boarded by the local authorities.  A thick band of United States currency persuaded them to discontinue their investigation into the allegation.

He could ill afford any mistakes now.

The Roman Lee Series "Crimson Rows" "Protection?" "You've sold your soul to the Devil and now you want a refund?"

The Roman Lee Series

 

Crimson Rows

 

 

 

A tiny electronic crackle.  Immediately I grabbed him by the back of the collar pulling him away from the table as far as his restraints would go digging into his skin.  Tearing his shirt I grabbed the top of the listening device along with a bit of chest hair ripping it away from his skin. 

Dropping it on the concrete floor I placed my heel over the top of it, twisting back and forth.

“You have about less than a minute Jeffrey to tell me everything or tonight’s probably your last meal.”

“Got nuthin to say.”

“They’re going to kill you.  You're being used.  Thirty seconds Jeffrey.  I turned off the jailhouse microphone in here too.  Twenty seconds.”

He started looking around the room up into the corners.  His legs were bouncing up and down.  Now he was nervous.

“They thought you would tear me up in here.  I told em I would take the beating if they could get me outta here.”

“Who?”

“I dunno, they came and pulled me out of my cell.  The lights were out in the middle of the night. They were dressed in suits, serious looking dudes.”

“The shotgun?”

“It was my Uncle’s, he used it for hunting. I stole it from him one weekend.”

“My family?”

“They told me what to say I swear.”

“We’ll talk again later Jeffrey.”

“Wait, what about me?”

“What about you?”

“You said they’re going to kill me.  You gotta protect me now.”

“Protect you?  You sold your soul to the devil and now you want a refund?”

“But, I told you everything.”

“Don’t worry, I’d much rather watch you suffer the rest of your miserable life behind a tall set of walls then you get out from under the weight of this so easy with a quick death.”

I walked out into the hallway and turned the corner as I heard a set of footsteps fast approaching.  The guard buzzed me out and I hit the street.  A black Chevrolet Impala was parked near a corner wedged in between two cars across the street.  I had noticed the two sitting, watching me, when I came out of the station.  Waiting for a car to pass I jogged across the street diagonally toward them.  The engine started.  They were parked tight.  Running faster I lept onto the hood of their car.  Looking up at me the driver put it back in park.  I dropped down on the sidewalk next to the passenger’s window.  It was already rolled down.

“I thought I smelled sewer, but it was must have been your shitty cologne drifting out of the car.”

“Just doing our job same as you Detective.”

“I’m sure.  I heard a rumor there was going to be chaperones.   So listen, you two can let go of each others dicks for now,  it’s going to be a busy day.  Play time is over time to go to work.”

“Fuck you Lee.”

“I think you need to replace your mic, it kind of got trampled on.”

 

 

 



Thank you Elon Musk!! The Fourth Book of the "Roman Lee Series" titled "Line Break" will hit online stores late in 2017.

THE ROMAN LEE SERIES

 

"LINE BREAK"

 

 

The Fourth in the Roman Lee Series

"Line Break"

LOOK FOR IT IN LATE 2017 !!!
...

Detective Roman Lee with his partner Lonnie Temple and Dr. Marlene Scott of Memorial Hospital uncover a conspiracy to conceal a sabotaged neurological procedure physically linking the first human brain with an AI implanted computer.
John Bentley is losing time. Minutes have turned to hours. Waking up in the middle of a vacant lot several weeks ago was just the beginning.
His wife Trina flips on their bedroom light horrified to see her husband of ten years caked in dirt and what appears to be human blood. Flashing lights soon illuminate their modest home. A thunderous knock on the door rattles windows. Her husband John Bentley may have now lost more than fleeting moments of his memory.

The Roman Lee Series "Crimson Rows" South American Assassin.......

THE ROMAN LEE SERIES

 

"CRIMSON ROWS"

 

 

Thirty-two

10:00AM

The peeling green paint dipped beneath the murky surface of the Amazon river.  Each of the morning passengers causing the wooden craft to noticeably rock as they boarded.  Critical gear stored in dark waterproof bags dropped into a storage compartment while weaponry remained with their owners.  Diego had noticed a large cache stored in Gulka’s Mercedes when the trunk lid had been opened.  It looked as though he could arm an assault team given a moment’s notice.

He was offered an older AK47 along with an extra clip of ammunition.  Looking a bit tentative he was given a crash course introduction to it.  Target practice included a capybara that had the misfortune of swimming near some taller weeds on the opposite side of the river.  Diego was surprised how little kickback there was from the rifle becoming fairly adjusted to its recoil.  Satisfied that the tattered carcass was no longer moving he popped out the cartridge while the remnants of smoke crept out of the barrel.  Inspecting the remaining contents of the extended clip he pushed it back into place with a confident click. 

Their guide an older looking South American had deep lines running across his forehead.  An intense expression of concern occupied his face as he looked over the passengers seemed it might carve another. A brief heated exchange between Diego’s boss and the man was brought to immediate resolution when a sizeable roll of U.S. currency was displayed.   

The boats motor started after a few attempts.  Billowing out bluish white exhaust fumes mixing with droplets of black river water as the propellers blades rotated under the surface.  The unique odor of it could not be duplicated anywhere else in the world.  Slowly they pulled away from the muddy clay colored bank out into the current of earths most unforgiving waterway.

Twenty minutes on the surface of it was plenty enough time to demonstrate the dangers of the Amazon having picked up an unwelcomed passenger. Watching his boss check the satellite phone for battery life Diego felt his own device in his shorts pocket deciding to take it out one last time before any hint of a signal vanished.  Logging into Facebook his charlatan profile of Barry appeared.  He had forgotten the banking information of his latest victim having written it down back in his flat. He needed to know if the funds from his fraudulent check deposit were available.  His mark, a single mother of three had foolishly disclosed her account number and logins for her financial institution’s online banking.  Quickly switching back and forth between apps he pasted the necessary information finally pressing submit.  Logging in successfully he quickly went to the balance screen looking at the transaction history.  The funds available were just under twenty thousand dollars.  His Facebook messenger indicated he had a private message.  Opening it he saw that she informed him that fifteen hundred dollars had been withdrawn to cover her rent and groceries for the children.  Smiling to himself he quickly replied that was fine and would see her at the airport tomorrow.  She was a life saver otherwise he would have been stuck in British Columbia yet another night.  Diego quickly as fast as his thumbs would work began setting up withdrawals to his Bitcoin accounts.  Satisfied with his work he deleted the Facebook account and opened up the Internet currency app.  Pending deposits appeared for the next day increasing his already sizeable balance.  The spoils of an accomplished thief.

As Diego returned the smartphone back into his pocket a voice in a matter of fact tone called his name.  It was heard just over the sound of the boats motor.  Sitting across from him was his boss who was holding out a 9mm Beretta pulling back the slide putting a round in the chamber.  He was pointing the weapon at his eye level only a few feet away.  A sunken feeling overwhelmed him along with panic but he didn’t show it.  He was debating whether or not to bail out into the water but he could not swim.  As his brain was processing another alternative scenario Marko Gulka said his name once more.

“Diego”

The Russian, expressionless as they locked in a stare broke the stalemate by looking up drawing Diego’s attention above his head.  Slowly he tilted back to an awaiting multi tan colored Bushmaster.  The viper was swaying over the edge of the aluminum roof in a threatening display ready to strike at any moment.  A woosh of air suddenly was felt that had been preceded by a metallic glimmer.  The machete slicing the reptile in two sending the venomous portion onto the deck writhing in its death throes among spattered blood.  A heavy heel of a black boot belonging to one of Gulkas hired mercs swiftly dispatched any remaining danger crushing its head.  The pistol was lowered and returned to its proper place.

Holding his arm tightly they were approached by their even more concerned looking South American guide.  Obvious edema was evident as the comparison between the man’s limbs said it all.  He had been bitten by the viper.  The effects of the venom’s toxin now coursing through his veins expedited by a rapid beating heart filled with panic and adrenaline.  Shaking violently, pain had gripped his entire body as he sat down screaming in agonizing terror.  They were at least a hundred miles from the nearest hospital with the critical antivenom and that was starting back from the dock.  Now further up the river they would have to turn around now if the man were to have a fighting chance at life.

Diego got up from his seat looking back where moments earlier the same assassin had its heat sensing pits filled to max capacity of another human target.  Walking over to the man he knelt down and asked his name.  Fighting back tears he answered between gritted teeth.

“Alberto”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Hospital….medicine..”

Alberto their only source of navigation and the boats captain was now suffering the full effects of the fatal injection.  Slumping over falling to the deck he began convulsing.  Uncontrollable spasms soon followed suit as white froth leaked out the side of an open mouth.

Two sets of muscular arms reached down picking up the Bushmaster’s only fatality of the morning casually tossing him overboard and into the murky depths of the black water.  Diego watched as they continued up the vast waterway while the lifeless body floated away carried by the force of the river’s current.  The engine suddenly powered down as Marko Gulka retrieved the satellite phone.  The research facility was not on any map and they needed the coordinates.  He was calling Jaxon Lathos but not before he instructed Diego to take control of the boat in his thick Russian accent.

“Diego, now you see why you are here.  Flying drone to facility should have idea where it is”

The river began to narrow ahead with an obvious fork and a decision to make.  Pressing send the satellite phone acquired a faint signal that rang intermittently with static.



The Roman Lee Series "Crimson Rows" ..... Donation does not always imply consent....

THE ROMAN LEE SERIES

 

"CRIMSON ROWS"

 

 

Thirty

8:00AM

 Her senses were grasping for information as she recognized consciousness since fainting.  Attempting to make out any objects in the lightless void were useless.  Relying entirely on  auditory clues she listened intently thinking that there might be another person close in proximity.  Gathering courage Brandi Jones finally spoke out.

“Hello?  Anyone there?”

“Help.”

The reply was weak, barely audible, almost a hoarse whisper.

“Where are we?”

“I…I don’t know”

“Can you move?”

“I’m strapped down.   

“How about you?”

Brandi felt like she was vertical and possibly ambulatory but found out quickly enough that she was also restrained.  Stranger was the sensation in her arm which had been previously penetrated with a needle at the plasma center.  It felt like something was in it again.

“I can’t move either.  How long have you been here?”

“Days I think.  A week maybe.  It’s so hard to tell. I only see him when he changes the bags.”

“Who? What bags?”

“The ones they fill with our blood.  I know because it’s the only time the lights come on is when they switch them out or clean.”

“How many are here?”

“You and I now.  I don’t know what happened to the others.  There used to be more.”

The sound of a light switch clicking on brought immediate temporary blindness as Brandi desperately tried to adjust her eyes so she could see her captor. Her head down staring at the floor she watched a pair of white shoes with dark green hospital smocks move toward the voice that she had been speaking to.  No words were exchanged between them.  Able to see a little better she focused on the individual who had just finished his task of replacing bags but appeared he was not taking any more blood for some reason.

Walking toward Brandi while pushing a cart he stopped in front of her.  He looked to be in his forties having longer dark hair mixed with some white.  His olive skinned complexion had few wrinkles.  Thinly built she guessed his height to be well over six feet tall.  Looking over at her arm she was horrified to see a needle connected to a tube that filled a once clear plastic bag with her blood.  Just like at the blood drive he switched out the bag this time she was being given an IV of something through yet another needle in her hand.  Brandi watched as the man affixed a label with a bar code on her bag scanning it with a device then used his smartphone to send some information.  The bags were placed in a small cooler.

She was scared, angry and never felt more alone in her entire life.  Brandi Jones demanded answers.  Her voice quivered at first but then picked up with a heated tempo.

“Everyone will be looking for me.  It won’t take them long you know.  They will check my cell phone and ping the towers, go through my texts.  You’re screwed you might as well let me go now.  Blind fold me and drop me off somewhere and I won’t say a word.”

The man spoke with an accent that sounded foreign maybe Pakistani.  She had heard it only one other time in one of her classes.  It was very distinct.

“My dear, we have planned for this.  Do you think we go to this length only to be caught?”

“Let’s not forget the GPS in my car asshole.”

“Look around you.  The room is soundproof and ventilated.  You could scream until you were what do they say hoarse and yet still no one hear either of you.”

The man across the room from Brandi spoke up angrily.

“Didn’t prevent one of us from getting away though did it you bastard.”

“That, I’m sorry to say was a mistake and won’t be repeated but even more unfortunate for him because he is no longer with us.”

“You killed him?”

“Actually, he did that to himself by not looking before crossing the road.”

Scanning the room Brandi tried to absorb as much information as she possibly could before it went dark.  There was one entrance and it looked to be a solid door with a couple of locks.  No windows were visible so he might be telling the truth about them being underground. 

“When I get out of here I’m going to stick this needle through your eye socket!”

Brandi Jones squirmed fiercely against her restraints at every angle available desperately trying to free herself or at least an arm.  Opening her eyes she went quiet as he was now less than a foot away from her face.  Trespassing into her personal space she was instantly enraged that he could move about freely.

“There is no need for violence.  Neither of you are being harmed.”

“So, being held against our will while you drain us of our blood is not harming us?”

Leaning closer now she realized there was no compassion or empathy to be found in the dark eyes of their captor.  That assessment was clearly validated as he spoke before walking out with a pint- sized bag of crimson fluid residing in the cooler.

“I could make it so much more uncomfortable for you.”

Stopping at the door he turned slowly glaring at Brandi.  Taking his index finger on his free hand the light switch descended to the off position plunging the room once more into empty darkness.

 

 



The Roman Lee Series "Crimson Rows" .... The Match.......

THE ROMAN LEE SERIES

 

"CRIMSON ROWS"

 

 

Twenty-Seven

1:30PM

The speeding ticket was held by a Starbucks magnet to the refrigerator in the one bedroom apartment.  Instructions on the back were either to pay the required fine for the civil infraction or make an appearance before the magistrate to plead her case. A decision had to be made soon because failure to do so would result in a bench warrant.  As a redshirt freshmen on the University basketball team Brandi Jones had overslept one morning making her late for an early practice.

Only a mile away from the Huron fieldhouse she didn’t see the Kirkwood Patrol unit until it was too late.  He had been parked in between a pair of used cars for sale on a vacant lot.  The officer had pulled out of the space closing the distance on her within a quarter mile turning on his lights.  Stopped for exceeding the posted speed limit by 20 mph the patrolman gave her a break by only writing the citation for 5 miles over.  Thankful for the generosity of not ticketing her for reckless driving the fine still remained imposing at $125 for a freshman athlete who did not work.  Brandi’s stern warning from her parents on countless occasions regarding her lead foot had seemed to have served as some prophetic warning.  The constant nagging during her probationary period before she obtained her license was always a source of contention.  Stubborn and independent she had chosen to live on her own off campus despite her parents recommendation to reside in the first year suites.  Consistently on a rigid budget the recent added expense might derail her plans to live on her own.  Her pride would not allow her parents to have a told you so moment. 

The UPC or the United Plasma Collection center was extremely busy mid-day.  First time donors stood in a line waiting for the representative to greet them.  Brandi checked her phone displaying the time.  Her only class of the day didn’t start until 6:00 PM and practice was cancelled giving her the opportunity to come across town. Brandi had planned on meeting a friend from her statistics course who gave her the idea in the first place.  He bailed on her at the last minute when he discovered that he couldn’t retrieve his term paper from the cloud and was in a full panic having not backed it up anywhere.  A quick text told her that she shouldn’t worry about anything.  In fact, the next time he planned on donating his roommates all intended on doing it to intensify the effects of alcohol they had planned on consuming at a party next week.  As she was about to reply to his text she was called to the counter.  A woman in her late twenties with auburn hair and blue eyes greeted her.

“Welcome to UPC.  This your first time donating with us?”

“Yes”

“Do you have valid identification with you?”

“I do one second.”

Brandi reached into her purse pulling out her driver’s license along with her social security card.

“Thank you.”

All of her information was entered into the system creating an account.  Payments would be credited once a successful donation had been completed.  It was suggested that she schedule a follow up appointment within seven days from the first one.

“Ok, if you will go over to the kiosks that are lined up against the wall and login using this default password and then change it after you answer all the questions.  Once you’re finished a health representative will come and get you for a quick screening.”

It wasn’t long and Brandi was seated in front of another smiling face.  Although the attire was somewhat unsettling.  They wore a plastic shield that covered the entire face.  A long white lab coat and purple latex gloves that extended to their elbows.

“Are you right handed or left?”

“Left”

“Can I see your right hand please.”

The tech rotated Brandi’s hand so that her palm was facing upward.  A swab of alcohol was quickly rubbed against the tip of her index finger.  As soon as the plastic end of the device was placed against her skin the spring exploded propelling a small lance penetrating deep enough to draw blood.  A pipette was angled against the wound to collect a sample for testing her iron levels.  She watched as her sample was placed in a solution.  Satisfied that her iron levels met the minimum standard for donation she was led over to a row of reclining comfortable looking chairs.  Several donors occupied most of them in various stages of the process.  Most were looking at their phones or watching a popular talk show on the large flat screen.  After the needle had been inserted into her vein Brandi watched the blood retreat from her arm in the tube leading to the machine that would separate the plasma eventually returning it mixed with a room temperature saline solution.

“This your first- time donating honey?”

A woman in her thirties sat next to Brandi looking to be almost complete with the process.  She was wearing black yoga pants and a white hoodie.  Several empty holes in her earlobes indicated multiple piercings that were being given a respite for the day from holding additional weight.

“I almost didn’t come in today.  My friend cancelled on me at the last minute.”

“Once you do it the first time it’s nothing after that.  I can usually get out of here in an hour.”

“Is that normal?”

“Everyone is different.  My first time in here took me about two hours.  I have small veins and my iron level was questionable.  Once they find a good vein you’re all set.  I needed to donate today to get money for my electric bill.  Those bastards were going to shut me off for $40.  I had kept all my arrangements until my ex didn’t pay his child support last week.  What about you?”

“Speeding ticket.”

“How fast?”

“About 20 mph over.”

“Did he write you for the whole thing?”

“Actually, he cut me a break only five over.”

“Nice guy.”

“Still over a hundred dollars for the ticket.”

“Ouch.”

“So, you go to school or work?”

“School at Huron University, I was late for practice.”

“You play sports?”

“Basketball, on the women’s team.”

“Nice, I played in grade school but didn’t like practices so I quit, wished I would have kept with it.”

A man in his early twenties walked over to them.  Wearing light blue hospital smocks he had dark wavy hair and brown eyes.  He had strong features with a distinct jawline flashing a bright smile at both of them.

Adjusting his purple latex gloves he took care of Brandi’s neighbor bandaging her arm.

“You’re all set.”

Looking at his tablet he scrolled down stopping at Brandi’s profile.

“Brandi, a very pretty name.  The plasma has been separated from your blood that we borrowed. Now were going to give it back to you.  We use a saline solution mixed in at room temperature so it may be a little cold when it enters back into your arm.”

“Ok.”

She watched as the machine reversed the order of its business returning her blood back thru the large clear tube. Slightly concerned she quickly called out before he got too far away.”

“Hey.  Quick question.”

“Yes?”

“My blood supposed to be that light color?”

“No worries.  Perfectly normal.  I’ll be right back.”

Brandi felt her arm.  It was cold to the touch as the saline mixed cells entered her bloodstream.  The whole process until now felt no different when she donated during the Red Cross Blood drive at her High School during her senior year.  Except the last part of it creeped her out slightly.

Jorje went to a supply closet closing the door behind him. Placing his tablet on a shelf next to a roll of gauze he pulled out his smartphone.  Scrolling to his text group he quickly sent a message.  They had the match that they were looking for.  Jorje was only to target the transients because the odds were in their favor that no one would look for them once they had gone missing. But they were not lasting long enough for the farm.  The homeless were usually unhealthy because of poor diets along with their propensity for drinking heavily.  Brandi Jones was the best candidate that would serve the dual purpose placed before them.  Except for the recent incident almost all of the previous farm donors had been disposed of at a place called Devil’s Lake.

Having gone only once out to the lake to help Jorje vowed to himself he would never go again.  Rowing out to the middle of the waveless lake they dumped the wrapped body over the side of the aluminum boat.  The water greedily drank the corpse into its depths as though it yearned to be fed.  Upon watching something so unnatural Jorje gripped the sides of the boat demanding they row like hell to reach the boat launch. His accomplices for the nights disposal took pleasure in his fear rocking the boat violently.  After the boat scraped the concrete slope on shore Jorje jumped out running to the car refusing to get near the water or help with the boat.

Multiple blank captions appeared before texts began filling Jorje’s screen. 

“You sure a match?”

“Allelle 100% and recessive trait.  Statistical Anomaly.”

“In return process now?”

“Yes”

“Dosage administered?”

Injecting the beta blocker into the saline solution was relatively easy and unnoticeable.  Jorje always carried it on him in case they were lucky enough to get a match.  The mixture caused momentary fainting in its intended victim by slowing down the heartbeat lowering their blood pressure to reach the threshold of a syncopic episode.  A short period of unconsciousness allowed them the opportunity to get their donor through the back doors into the awaiting van.  Time was limited so a coordinated effort was needed in order to succeed.

“All set.  We have just a few minutes until the process is complete.”

“Everything is ready here.  Make sure there are no mistakes.  You need to execute this with perfection understand?”

“I flirted with her a bit so she is relaxed.”

“Parking the van near the door now.”

Watching he last of Jackie’s blood return Jorje powered down the centrifuge with the plasmapheresis process now complete.  Looking into his eyes she smiled shyly.  He slowly withdrew the needle placing a square piece of gauze on top of the wound holding it there applying the right amount of pressure with his thumb. Gently he wrapped just below the bicep area.  Taking her opposite hand he placed it underneath the bandage asking her to elevate it for a moment.

“Ok, Ms. Brandi Jones you are all set.  Your deposit should be in your account.  Remember to go online and schedule another donation in the next 5 to 7 days.”

After standing up something didn’t feel right. Brandi started to perspire feeling very warm.  She remembered reading about a possible effect of donating but had dismissed it entirely.  The room became unsteady as though one side of the floor was pulling her down.  Closing her eyes momentarily to regain her bearings did little good making it worse.  Jorje had started to prep the machine keeping a watchful eye on her the whole time waiting for the exact moment to catch her.  Quickly he moved towards her helping her to a recovery room near the back.  Almost no one had paid any attention to the events that had unfolded.

The back door was opened slightly allowing the natural sunlight in to mix with the artificial.  They placed her inside strapping her down on the gurney and shut the windowless doors.  The black Ford cargo van with its bright green UPC logo drove off with their most valuable donor.