Sandstorm Ch. 03

"And in Washington," said the DepDirector, "it's complete chaos. The FBI have made a number of arrests. I won't say much more about it, and you're not likely to hear about those arrests nor those persons on the news... and it's possible we won't be seeing them again at all. All that is above my pay grade."

And the Deputy Director's pay grade was pretty high, I thought to myself. The good news is that those poor bastards would have no Green Crowbar coming to save them... and they did not deserve to be saved.

"There is one more thing I need to tell you," said the DepDirector, "and it's not public yet, so it needs to stay in this room. I will be retiring, no later than September 30th, but I'm shooting for September 1st. I appreciate all that all of you have done for me, especially in these last few years." The FBI team's faces were mixtures of sadness and uncertainty.

"Any idea who will replace you?" asked Laura.

"No." said the DepDirector. "They haven't even replaced you in the CIA, not formally. After all the dust settles, and we find out who was not loyal to bastards like Corrigan and Mr. C., maybe someone will emerge as a frontrunner. I know that I put in Jack Muscone's name, and he turned them down flat."

"Wise man." said Cindy. That got her a look from the Deputy Director, and she said "Mr. Muscone is not a politician at heart like you are, Mr. Director. He's better at building bonfires and putting up stakes." More laughter, especially from Muscone.

"And he apparently has a lot of help with that." I said acerbically, remembering that scene in MCD.

The Deputy Director smiled. "Well, Mr. Muscone will continue to run Team Lazarus out of our City offices. Maybe Dr. Fredricson will consider the job of replacing me." he said, glancing sideways at me as he said it.

"She'd better not." I said, though with a smile. "Especially after all that work I did persuading her to retire from the CIA."

Laura took my hand in hers and said "No worries, darling. And Carole wouldn't let me go to 'meetings', anyway." I chuckled at that.

"Okay," said the DepDirector, "let's get back to our jobs. There's still some cleanup going on out there. I do need to speak to the Troys for a moment, if you'd stay."

Cindy and 'Team Lazarus' left the room, leaving me and Laura alone with the DepDirector.

"You've done very well, both of you." said the DepDirector. "I should've had more faith in you, Don. I thought you were distracted by other things, but you apparently handled it all in stride."

"Thank you, sir. Still some loose ends to work on." I said. "But that's for us to clean up. You're going to be enjoying retirement."

"There is one thing I want to ask about." said the DepDirector. "Why didn't you leave Conrad King and Wallace Bedford alive? We could've benefitted from talking with them."

"Sir," I said, "Conrad King was terminally ill. I'm surprised he lived through all of this to get to the point where he committed suicide. He was not going to be taken alive. As to Wallace Bedford... well, I told you from the start that he was mine, and that we were going to take care of him... and I am very satisfied with the result."

"Yes, his charred body was found in the ashes of his home. Headless." said the DepDirector. "But at least the masked men in black that did that allowed his son to be evacuated alive to Boston Medical. Though it may be for naught."

"How is he doing?" Laura asked.

"The doctors do not expect him to live much longer, maybe not even a couple of weeks." said the DepDirector. "He's beyond help; not even another transplant will save him."

Laura and I nodded. I knew the kid was innocent, but it was hard to feel sympathy after having watched Amy die in front of me.

"Well," said the DepDirector, "all that's done now. Do me a favor, Don, and help Jack and his team whenever you can. They're good people, but having you on their side makes things a lot easier for them, and they're going to have enough political problems as it is..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The sun was still up but casting long shadows over the City. But Jasmine Nix did not notice that. She was sucking her aide Stevie's long, thick black cock. One day big cocks are going to ruin my singing voice, she thought as she deep throated his enormous size, taking his meat down her throat.

Tonight was the night, the beautiful black singer thought to herself as she fellated the hung, young stud. Tonight we release my album, I call for everyone to rise up against cops, and my well-placed people will begin making those Cracker bastards pay.

The thought of murdering whites made Jasmine's pussy wet with lust. She realized Stevie was close, so she slid her mouth up his long shaft and off, then eased her firm, naked body onto the bed.

"I want you to nut inside me." Jasmine said. Stevie 'dutifully' mounted her and sank his meat into her tight, sopping wet snatch. As he began grinding his hips, fucking her with increasingly long, deep strokes, Jasmine moaned.

"Oh yeah, give it to me, Stevie!" Jasmine begged. "Fuck me like it's our last night on earth! Give me that big cock! I want to feel you nut inside me..." Stevie began fucking the beautiful celebrity with all the power he could muster, and the loud slaps of flesh-on-flesh filled the room.

Jasmine's pussy was too much, it was too tight, and it clutched at him each time he drove his thick black snake into it. Stevie groaned.


"Don't try to hold back." said Jasmine. "Let it go. Come inside me like no Cracker ever will!" With a groan of deeply painful ecstasy, Stevie fired his release into Jasmine, and did not stop until he had pumped his full climax into her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jasmine Nix came out of the shower after the hot sex with her young well-hung aide Stevie. When she came out of the bathroom, she found that her assistant 'Spike' was waiting to brief her.

"So they got that bitch and her halfbreed daughter out of Town, eh?" she snarled as she began dressing. "Where are they?"

"In T-Square's studios here in the City." said 'Spike'. "They're moving her to the hotel penthouse from time to time, though."

"Can we get to them?" Nix asked.

"Yes." said Spike. "Our mobile second team was recalled and given the mission."

"Good." said Jasmine. "Make it happen."

Part 19 - Black Albums Matter

Saturday, June 10th. The sun had set, leaving the night-time City an oasis of light standing defiantly against the darkness. There was an air of excitement near the Palladium Arena as a huge crowd gathered for the official release of Jasmine Nix's new album, Power of Police.

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the redheaded reporterette from her vantage point of a Press booth set up to cover the event. "With me is renowned Social columnist Elsie Gringer! If Elsie isn't reporting it about the hottest celebrities, then it isn't worth reporting on!"

"Oh, you're too kind, Bettina." said Elsie, who was Bettina's aunt. "And you look so lovely tonight."

"As do you, Elsie." said Bettina. "We're also with Tim Sioban of KSB here in the City, working together on a joint feed. Hello, Tim!"

"Hello, ladies." said Tim. "I've been a big fan of Elsie's columns for years, and it's so wonderful to be working with her now."

"And what a great occasion!" said Bettina.

"Yes," said Elsie. "I have word that Jasmine Nix is going to be wearing a gold dress that can only be described as 'stunning'."

"And her message tonight is meant to inspire a serious discussion of Police abuse of People of Color." said Bettina. "How do you think that is going to be received, Tim?"

"It's a long overdue discussion, Bettina." said Tim Sioban. "Groups like 'Black Lives Matter' and the NAACP have long clamored for Social Justice. Ms. Nix is using her celebrity to further her People's cause."

"There are some," said Bettina, "who say Ms. Nix has rejected the non-violent message of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and that her message is one that will lead to violence and an increasing animosity between blacks and whites. Do you think that will be the case, Tim?"

"I hope not, Bettina." said Sioban. "But if the chains of oppression cannot be broken by means of peaceful protest, if Police continue to discriminate against People of Color and abuse them, then I certainly cannot predict what might happen."

"I certainly hope things won't come to that." said Elsie.

"Neither do I, Elsie." said Bettina. "But the nation is sitting on a powder keg. We fear an outbreak of violence..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"... we fear an outbreak of violence." said the television as I watched with Cindy in my office at Police Headquarters.

"She doesn't fear an outbreak," I said, "she is hoping and praying for one."

"Think she's going to get her wish?" asked Cindy.

"Not in this Town." I said. "Captain Croyle has the SWAT Team and the Riot Teams ready to go. And overlapping shifts." That meant that 1st shift worked a double shift, 16 hours, overlapping the 2nd shift, and 2nd shit worked a double shift covering the third shift, and so on. It would cost money, but it meant we had plenty of extra people if we needed them.

"Good." Cindy said. "By the way, those loudmouths that we've been watching... they're at MLK Park, where they have a TV projector set up, and a bunch of people watching this crap."

"What about those six guys that checked into the hotel?" I asked.

"They came out, went to breakfast this morning at the University Diner, then went six separate ways." said Cindy. "We only had one Police cruiser following them, and couldn't follow them all, and we ended up losing track of them." I nodded.

"What about Paulina?" Cindy asked. "Where is she? Teresa said you've asked for no assets to watch over them. We've got the Cabin covered, but Paulina's not there, either."

"No." I said, letting some of my frustration show. "Paulina decided to take Tasha to the City, and stay with her brother and his people. She claims they'll be able to protect her and Tasha."

"I hope she's right." said Cindy.

"I know that she's not." I replied. "All we can do about that, though... is pray."

Cindy glanced over my way, but I showed nothing on my face as I watched the television screen.

"How did Joanne and Seth take Conrad King's death?" asked Cindy.

"Pretty well." I said. I had gone to the Warner home with Todd to tell them that Seth's grandfather was dead. Joanne had said nothing, but Seth had peppered me with questions about how Conrad had died, and why. I told him most of it, except for my part helping Conrad commit suicide. Seth continued to look skeptical as I left the room. Todd had stayed behind and talked to Seth as I talked with Joanne for a few moments before leaving.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One of Big Ice's lieutenants, a man called 'Jackson' and known only by that name, was in his hotel room on the 8th floor of the Windham City Plaza Hotel, that overlooked the Palladium Auditorium and its hotel, and a stage set up where Jasmine Nix would be appearing and speaking before going into the Arena. It would not be long before he and the others accompanied Big Ice to the arena.

Jackson was relatively short, about 5'8" tall, and he kept his head shaved totally bald. He was muscular but beginning to show age. He'd been in the Big Ice rap music empire for years.

There was a knock on the door and Jackson answered it, expecting it was the posse getting ready to move out. Instead, a beautiful white woman with long black hair, dressed in a hotel security uniform and carrying a long package stepped in just as he cracked the door open.

"Package for Mr. Big Ice, sir." said the woman. "I was told to bring it to this room."

"Hell, I don't know nuthin' about this." said Jackson as he took his cell phone out of his pocket. "I'll call the man." Before he could dial the number, he felt the sharp needle of the dart jab his neck as the woman brought her hand up to it in a lightning fast move. She grabbed his cellphone from his hand then twisted him over towards the window as the sleeping agent took effect. He lost consciousness, the floor rising to meet him just in front of the window.

The woman opened the box to extract a Remington 700 rifle, scoped, with a wooden stock and black barrel, .308 caliber. Then she took out a suction cup attached to a string and pressed it to the hotel window. A glass cutter etched a circle just above the base of the window, which was just inches off the floor. The suction cup kept the cut glass from falling out, and she pulled it inside and wrapped the glass and the suction cup in a cloth and secured them in a pocket of her clothing.

Then she lay down and put the edge of the barrel of the rifle to the window, then looked through the scope, getting her bearings and focusing the crosshairs. Then she took off her shirt, turned it inside out and put it back on. It looked like a City Police uniform, complete with badge. She was ready.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The six men, dressed in the suits and ties of waitstaff, approached the guards with a rolling table.

"What's this?" asked one of the guards.

"Dinner for the lady, and baby food for the child." said the white waiter, the only white man on the entire floor of the hotel at the moment.

The guards checked; yes, it was dinner and baby food. They frisked the men and checked the table for weapons. Except for the dinner knife, there was nothing threatening.

"All right." said the guard at the door. The waitstaff was admitted, and only after all six were inside did anyone realize that truly only one person was needed to deliver the meals...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My Police cellphone rang. It was the FBI calling.

"My God," I said, "can they not leave me alone for even one evening?" Nevertheless, I took the call.

"This is Muscone." said the voice on the other end of the line. "I just got a report that our guys busted some White Roots guys in the City. They found City Police uniforms; shirts, pants, badges, belts, the works."

"Aw, crap." I said. "Now we don't know who's friend or foe."

"I've talked to the City Police brass." said Muscone. "They're on the lookout. The badges are not perfect duplicates of City Police badges, so we have something to look out for. We're also hoping these are the only guys doing this shit and that we have them."

"Okay." I said. "Jack, there's something else you need to do. Where's Julius Jefferson?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Paulina Patterson was in the back office room, finishing up some legal papers on her laptop computer, when she looked up to see a white man pushing a tray into the room.

"Dinner, ma'am." said the man, who Paulina thought looked like he was a bit drugged.

"You can just leave it out there." Paulina said.

"No, ma'am, it's coming in here." said the man. Suddenly five more men were bursting into the room.

"Get her!" one of them snarled.

*KERRASH!*

The shattering window froze everyone in place as the two women swung into the room on mountain-climbing-style ropes. With unbelievable speed, they attacked the men, stabbing them in their necks and chests with Rambo-type knives. The men who had the wits to resist were not properly trained to defeat Aikido, and they died, too.

Paulina was in shock as the older of the two women came over to her.

"What a pretty baby." said the woman. Paulina clutched at Tasha as the woman took out her iPhone and took a photo of Tasha. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt her." the woman said.

Paulina could hear a helicopter overhead as the woman leaned forward and said quietly "Take good care of my brother's daughter."

Leaving Paulina in shock, Elizabeth said to Goth Girl Kathy "Okay, let's go." They grabbed the ropes, went to the edge of the broken-out window and tugged. A second later they were being pulled up to the roof. A moment later, the helicopter, piloted by Elizabeth's Italian stud Gino, took off, whisking the women away just as T-Square's men burst into the suite.

When they got into the back room, they saw six dead men, and Paulina clutching Tasha to her, tears streaming down the shaken mother's cheeks...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"And we're getting word that Jasmine Nix is on her way!" said Bettina. "The security people are getting into place, and it will be just moments before we see her emerge from the hotel...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As she lay on the floor, taking aim, a memory flooded her mind. She was reliving the horrifying experience of that day when she was forced to watch her mother being raped by those black thugs.

She did not try to dismiss the memory, but let the pain burn throughout her body and soul. It sharpened her senses, and she concentrated like never before as her prey exited the hotel and came into her sights. It was time for payback.

As she exhaled, then ever so gently pulled the trigger, the pain went away...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"And here she comes!" said Bettina. "Jasmine Nix is coming out of the hotel, the cameras are flashing as the crowd gathers round.

"Oh, she looks so beautiful." said Elsie Gringer, already writing her online column in her head. "That gold dress seems to just flow on her lovely body."

"And she'll be at the stage in a moment, and-- oh, what just happened?" Bettina was saying. She'd heard what she thought was a car backfiring, and Jasmine had fallen down.

"Oh my, I think she slipped and fell." Elsie said.

"She's down..." Bettina said, peering over, knowing something was wrong. Then the producer's voice in her earphone began screaming that something had happened. "Ladies and gentlemen, something has happened in the entourage! Jasmine Nix has fallen down, and she is not getting up. People have rushed to help her, and other people are starting to run around. We can hear shouting..."

Tim Sioban said "An ambulance is coming up, Bettina. It's trying to get through the sea of people, but they just won't move out of the way to let it through."

Bettina blanched as she listened into her earpiece, then she said "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm getting word that Jasmine Nix is lying unconscious, and she may have been shot!"

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Elsie...

"She's been shot." said Bettina. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Jasmine Nix has been shot and appears to be badly wounded..."

Indeed, the bullet had struck Jasmine Nix where her left eye met the bridge of her nose. She had fallen backwards, and was already dead when she hit the ground.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After firing the shot, the woman quickly pulled Jackson's unconscious form to the window. She put the rifle in his hands, then injected him with a drug that would re-awaken him. Then she grabbed her stuff and quickly left the room, going into a janitor's closet nearby.

Big Ice's Security men came onto the floor and hustled down the hall to the door. They prepared to enter. One man used the electronic key to unlock the door, and the other's burst in.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jackson felt groggy, and his head was splitting with pain as he woke up. He found himself on the floor, his vision blurry. He felt something in his hands, sticking to his hands as if glued on.

He heard a noise behind him. As he turned around to see what it was, the motion brought the rifle around to point at the security men.

They perforated him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"And the ambulance has arrived, and they are putting Jasmine Nix into it." said Bettina, her professional instincts kicking in and allowing her to report the horrific scene with cool professionalism. "We have confirmed that Jasmine Nix has been shot; we don't know how badly she is injured. She is not moving, there is shouting all around, security people are locking down the area."