BLOOD IN, BLOOD OUT - TWWW part 6

“When a person becomes a member of a certain gang they must kill a designated person in order to join said gang (blood in) and the only way out of the gang is to die (blood out)” as quoted from the Urban Dictionary.



Xavier never liked being driven around. He liked being at the helm plus he never really trusted anyone. He no longer had a choice. A driver came and picked him up in the morning and took him home after training was done. A small black sedan, blacked out windows and door locks controlled from the front seat. Divider glass separated him from the driver, who was never very talkative. One day he went to a warehouse where he was instructed how to build a gun and how to take one apart from a man whose arms were bigger than most women’s hips. They couldn’t rest at his sides; they simply suspended themselves midway in the air. Xavier wondered how his big fingers could handle the intricate mechanisms of a gun.

On this day Xavier was led into an empty office. Aside from the fluorescents above, the only light came from a small window which offered a lovely view of a brick wall. The room had the bare minimum; a desk, a chair and a phone. The attending agent gave him a pen and a notepad with a list of names and numbers. Over the past two weeks since he joined the agency, aside from his driver, everyone was a new face. This agent didn’t give his name, most of them didn’t. He had a wedding band on, he was asian and middle-aged. His deep voice suggested he should have been working in voice-over’s rather then working for them. He told Xavier he would be his instruction for the next week – vocal coaching. “You have no Mexican accent. I’m going to teach you how to get it back along with a few other dialects. With your coloring you can pass for a couple of nationalities. But first you have to make a few calls. You are to tell them to meet you at the date, time and place listed on page 1. Get as many as you can to show up. Call extension 19 if you have any questions. There’s a bathroom behind the door on your left and don’t leave this room. Understand?”

“Yes. Hey, am I going to see agent Romulus…”

“Yes, later.”

The man walked out. Xavier recognized all the names on the list. He let out a deep sigh. This was the beginning of his initiation. There were their names and numbers along with the names and numbers of family, girlfriends, wives…anyone and everyone they may or may not remotely speak to on a regular basis. He made his first call.

“Lucas, man what’s up?”

“Xavier…man is that you?”

“Yeah, where you at?”

“Under a rock man. It’s crazy out here. They pickin us up left and right. And I don’t know what kind of law enforcement department this is, but man, when they get you, you gone. If they even think you in a gang, they pick you up. I’m tryin to get these tats removed, but the guy I go to that got the machine, his ass got picked up. I’m just trying to get back to Mexico.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy. I’ve been layin low myself. I’m trying to find as many of us as I can…you know to regroup. Go back home til things cool down. The ones still around, I want us to meet up before we go back. You know…talk about the direction we need to go in.”

“yeah, direction…”

“I told you not to get all that ink.”

“I know man…blend, I know.”

“Remember the church we use to meet at in L.A.Tomorrow at 3.”

And then he dialed another…

“Miguel?”

“How’d you get this number?”

“What’s up man, it’s Xavier.”

“I know who it is, how’d you get this number?”

“I still have some connections. What’s up man? You ain’t happy to know I’m alive?”

“It’s not that, it’s just… it’s, they picked up my mom yesterday, she’s 63 years old. I got somebody to call for me. They said they don’t have a record of her. She doesn’t know anything. I didn’t even come around her, cause I wanted to keep her out of it. I can’t do nothing. This is some bull. Man you and your crazy ass plan. We can’t use cash anymore and our credits are frozen. Once they scan us, it’s over. ”

“We can still use our cash in Mexico. I have a stash. Meet me tomorrow at the church, at 3. I’m trying to get together, the ones who made it. Do you know where some of the guys are?

“Not many made it Xavier, but I’m in contact with a few. I’ll call em, we’ll be there. What happened to Raymond? He left with you right?”

“He’s dead. He got shot by one of Castillo’s crew while we were trying to get out.”

“Oh…sorry man. Ok, see you tomorrow.”

Xavier got a few, but not many. He got cursed out a few times followed by hang-ups; the last thing the wives and mothers wanted to hear was his voice. Most of the time he got voicemail. He saw the Bromley as a poor idea now, one best saved for the movie screen. Seemed right at the time. The reality of the destruction it would cause and the heat it brought never occurred to him. Can’t press pause now.

*******

Morris had never been so happy to see his hotel room. He opened the nightstand drawer looking for the menu. It was resting on top of the Bible. Rooms always had the Bible. Morris made a habit of looking for it. It was usually in the nightstand on the right hand side of the bed; however he was occasionally surprised and found it in the dresser. He never opened it, but it comforted him to know it was there. As if the occasion would arise and he wanted to repent for something, the Bible would be available. He thought he’d feed his spirit some other time, now it was time to feed his stomach.

He was feeling adventurous, deciding to go for the chicken pot pie. As his cell phone was ringing, he thought to himself, “Morris let it go to voice mail….don’t pick it up”. But he recognized the number to be Lance Dirth, his boss. If he ignored the call, the impending conversation would be looming, thus ruining his processed meat pie and side bag of salad. ‘Let’s get it over with’, he thought.

“Yes, Lance.”

“Morris where are you?”

A simple question…yes? No. When Morris got the call to see Walt, he was suppose to be in Colorado, not in Seattle. He took a long pause to consider his answer.

“Morris, you’re in Seattle, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I wish you had discussed it with me first.”

“A friend of mine needed some help. The project in Colorado is almost done. I’m flying back out tomorrow.”

“Did he tell you anything?” Lance asked.

“No,” Morris answered. There was no use in asking Lance how he knew. The only secrets in the agency were the ones they allowed you to keep. “Really, nothing”

“I just wish you hadn’t gone Morris. You put yourself in an unfortunate situation. You sure Walter didn’t tell you anything?”

“No…I mean yes! I’m sure he didn’t tell me anything. What is it with you people!”

“Don’t get bent Morris. I was just asking. I’m sure you can understand. Your friend has some very important information that’s not his to keep.”

“They strip searched me.”

“Like I said Morris, you put yourself in an unfortunate situation.”

“Why do you keep saying, unfortunate?”

“Actually Morris, that’s not why I called.”

This conversation was confirming why he had such a growing dislike for Lance. Snot nose pretty boy. In the people’s army he sat behind a desk, just like now. He has no field experience, yet he has the power to orchestrate death without ever leaving the comfort of his ergonomic leather chair. (Don’t tell me about unfortunate situations, you’re an unfortunate situation)

“Morris, Stacey is in the hospital. She’s in a coma.”

“Stacey?” The blood was pooling into his cheeks again and the shortness of breath was not far behind. It felt like someone was reaching down his throat and was trying to pull his heart out through his mouth. “Where is she?” he managed to spit out.

“In Las Vegas, at Desert Valley Hospital.

“Why didn’t the hospital call me? I’m her husband.”

“Morris, you’re not a babe in the woods. You know how things work. She was working on a project. Her superior called me, and I’m calling you.”

Morris hung up the phone.

******




Xavier got the text in the morning. He was to be up and ready by 9a.m. He laughed at the words “Your big day. Dress casual”. He had to wear suits for the past two weeks for his training; he wasn’t sure what casual meant anymore. He went through his closet looking for a semblance of his old self. Then he noticed a garment bag hanging on his bedroom door. ‘Privacy is a thing of the past’, he reminded himself. It was like they went through his closet. He had these items, but they were clearly not his. They were missing the same wear and tare he remembered. They did a good job of aging the material; the jeans, t-shirt and jacket looked like they had been in the washing machine a few times. They even left him a pair of perfectly worn sneakers. He understood why, guys don’t pay attention to the cloths, but they do the sneakers.

The car was waiting outside to drive him to the church. This time he left the privacy glass open. He asked for a drone scan to see if anyone decided to come early. Xavier could have told them no. The fellas may be on the run, but nobody was getting up before noon.

“All clear?” Xavier asked.

“Yeah, we’ve been watching the place since 1600 hours, yesterday.”

Xavier was still getting use to military time. He always had to figure it out in his head. “4pm”, he said to himself. The car stopped. They were in the church parking lot. Though it was during the week the lot was empty. Not even any staff cars.

“You know where to go, right?” Xavier nodded. “Good luck 73624.”

Xavier didn’t see anyone in the parking lot, but he knew they were there. He walked upstairs to the rectory. No priest, no staff and cleaner than he remembered. ‘Staging’, it was called. He learned a little about it earlier this week. It was a way to silently make your presence known. The church didn’t have flower arrangements. Father Ruiz was very allergic. The ladies who worked in the office brought ferns instead. Tasteful floral arrangements were placed strategically throughout the church; there were a pair on either side of the pews. There was an arrangement in front of the podium, at the bottom of the stairs, one in the hallway and one on the back table in the rectory. There were other means of technology, but they require more time. Hiding mics in flower arrangements or in books was an old school quick and dirty way to get it done. There were probably pen holes in the crown molding where they fit the cameras. Xavier resisted the temptation to wave.

******

It was a small plane. In places where the agency had facilities, they usually had a few small planes and pilots on standby. The planes could seat up to 15 people. This flight crew included the pilot and the co-pilot. Morris helped himself to the mini bar, stocking up on as many of the miniature licqeur bottles he could fit on his lap. “When was the last time I saw Stacey?”

It was a few weeks ago. She was telling him how the staff was being forced to take the vaccine. As medical staff, it was for their own protection; so they wouldn’t pick up an infection like the flesh eating bacteria or any other random and potentially harmful illness or disease. Morris told her not to take the vaccine. “Get out of it!” he yelled into the phone. He couldn’t tell her why. Never talk about the mission you’re on…not even to your spouse.

Morris, being part of the FDA, he knew what the vaccines were about. He worked to push them through, but he didn’t think his wife would have to take it. He thought it was for others, for enemies of the state. Perhaps he should have asked for clarity on who the enemies of the state were.

She said they would send her home or put her on suspension. “So be it!” he fired back. They had enough money. They had cars that spent more time in the garage because they were always out of town and a nice 2 story house, in a prime real estate neighborhood; they rarely lived in at the same time.

Damn the rules. He wished he never heard those damn rules. Maybe they would have gotten out of the agency a long time ago if they didn’t obey the rules. If the left hand found out what the right hand was doing, Stacey might not be in a coma. Maybe they would have had kids. But the agency discouraged marriage. The agency discouraged religion. The agency discouraged family. The agency discouraged everything except…the agency.

*****

The doors to the rectory were open. The room had the same old stained glass windows. It was good they didn’t dust them. Raymond use to joke about how if Jesus came back, he would be pissed they didn’t bother to clean up the place. The people running the church were very old and couldn’t be bothered with things such as dusting and cleaning. The windows didn’t open so the room always had this musty smell, probably from the cheap carpet they layed down instead of fixing the floor boards. The long dark wooden dining table had been there since the church was first built, which was over 25 years ago, and it showed every sign of it. He didn’t want to know how they got the whole church emptied for the day. Father Ruiz was there all the time. Xavier hoped they made a large donation to the church, but they were probably threatened.

He soon realized he wasn’t alone. There was a small kitchen attached. Romulus walked out of it holding a box. “Good to see you 73624”, he said putting the box down on the back table. “I hear you’re doing well with your training.”

Romulus pulled out 13 glasses, a hair dryer and a vial and a bottle of tequila. “Plug in the hair dryer.”

“Is this part of the training?” Xavier joked. “Should I take notes?” Romulus offered up what he could of a smile; his mouth was willing but his eyes were not. He picked up the vial and a ziplock bag containing a dropper and handed them to Xavier. “Take these.
This is Marburg stage 3or M3, the poison we will be using for the day. As you can see, it’s colorless, it’s odorless and, we can only guess, tasteless. And in case you are wondering, it’s based on an actual virus, but stage 3 is a mimic created in a lab. It serves no other purpose but to kill and make look like an illness. It attacks the internal organs, causing them to bleed out. Blood will be coming out of their orifices and probably out of their pores. Did you know skin is the largest organ on our bodies? The drug mimics a virus, but it is not contagious. As soon as the blood is exposed to the air, the M3 disintegrates, thus removing all traces of it.”

“As you can see, the glasses are amber in color and have a little texture to them. You’ll see in a moment why this is helpful. Please, put on these gloves.” Xavier hesitated for a moment. He looked down at Romulus’ bare hands. “This is your test. You have to do it. All of it. The gloves are a necessacity. Not so much for fingerprints, we don’t care, but the drug can be absorbed through the skin. If there is any break in the skin…did you scratch yourself this morning? It can find its way into the bloodstream.” Xavier did as he was told. He never had been so careful with latex until tonight. He made sure it fit securely on every finger, tight around his wrists and without any breaks.

“Fill the dropper with the M3. Count out 10 drops into the glass. Swirl it around; you need just enough for it to coat the entire bottom of the glass. Now take the blowdryer, set it on high. Keep moving the glass around. Keep the nozzle of the dryer close to the mouth of the glass until it’s dry. When you pour the tequila in, it will activate the poison.” Xavier moved on to the next glass. “10 more to go.”

“How long does it take?”

“It varies depending on overall health, size, weight, height…maybe 5 min give or take a few. I wish I could say they won’t feel anything, but they will. Eventually they will drown in their own blood.” Xavier cringed at the thought. “And be sure to set one glass aside for yourself. It would be a shame for you to die during your own initiation.”

“Has that happened before?” Xavier asked.

“No, but there’s always a first time.”

******

The hospital was state of the art. No more than 5 years old, so it had the latest technology including slot machines in the waiting rooms. “I’m here to see Stacey Penski. She’s my wife.”

“Room 302, the doctor will meet you there shortly.”

Even the receptionist clerk looked like a showgirl; false eyelashes, lined and glossed lips and a nurse’s cap atop a sea of highlighted, teased and fried hair weave. He didn’t think they wore nurse’s caps anymore. The receptionists’ nails were so long, she couldn’t lay her fingers done on the desk. She extended one of the claws to point out how to get to Stacey’s room, “Down that way,” she said.

“Thanks,” Morris replied. (Welcome to Vegas)

She had her own room. He was happy about that. He stood at the doorway, staring quietly for the first few moments. He didn’t remember her looking so old. It had only been a few weeks. So much more of her hair was missing and he could tell from her face, she had lost so much weight. The skin clung tightly to her cheekbones. It was hard looking at her attached to so many machines. The room was quiet except for her heart monitor; her heart beat was weak but steady. He wasn’t sure how much it mattered because it was only beating because of the machinery she was hooked up to. Her skin looked yellow, even the palms of her hands. The doctor wasn’t there yet, so Morris helped himself to her chart. Under recent medication was the vaccine. There was no need to read any further. This particular vaccine worked on compromising the immune system. It was designed to go into the body and find a weakness of any kind; like a burglar finding an unlocked window. The live agents in the vaccine would search for those traits lying dormant among the many strands of DNA. Traits people never know they have until something dials the right combination code. Stacey was perfect. From their conversation he knew she had a head cold, not that she told him, but he could hear it in her voice. The head cold was the weakness. The vaccine fused with it causing a brain abscess which turned into a brain infection naturally leading to her current state – a coma. The victim was left in a vegetable state with no chance of recovery; because that is how it was designed. Read the fine print. No one ever does. 1 in every 10,000…Morris tweaked the statistics himself. The truth is, over 50 years old and under 5, one in every 6 will be affected. This was the best way to thin the herd out there.

The doctor came in. He was kind. Talked slowly. Used small words and spoke with his hands a lot. Morris only heard him intermittently: brain infection…research in this field…irreparable damage…brain dead…

“What do you want to do Mr. Penski?...Mr. Penski?”

Morris thought they were working on chemical warfare. A way to keep down indigenous populations. Why did I think that was ok? What the hell have I been doing all these years?

“Pull the plug, but can you wait till tomorrow? I’d like to sit with her tonight.”

“I understand. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

Morris held her hand all night; staring into her face and brushing his hand across her cheeks. “You should have said something…I should have said something. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

*****
Romulus pulled out a small hand gun. Xavier remembered it.

“I want you to take this just in case.” It was the gun he used on Raymond. The gun was silver with a small grip and a large oval chamber. “It holds 5 bullets called hammers. As you can see the bullet is a flat like disc as opposed to a cylinder. Hammers are for close kills only. They don’t pick up velocity like regular bullets. The distance is the difference between doing some serious damage or causing a headache. Aim for the knee, the chest cavity, the clavicle...” Romulus said while pointing to the individual body parts. “The temple or the spot between the brows…”

“I got it.” Xavier said while looking over the gun. It fit squarely in his hand. It was hard to imagine how something so small could produce such a massive hole.

“It’ll be time soon. Good Luck. We won’t be far behind.”

3 o’ clock came faster than he expected. Xavier made sure he had his glass in front of him. Miguel arrived first. He was apprehensive, looking around before he would fully commit himself to coming into the room. He walked into the kitchen, giving it the once over as well.

“What you looking for man? You’re the first one here.”

“Just checking things out. You know me.” Miguel walked over and gave Xavier a hug. He patted Xavier across the back. “I’m not wired. Miguel what’s up?”

“I don’t know what’s up. It’s just crazy out there. There were going to be more guys coming with me, but I don’t know man…they gone now.”

“Look. Once we all get together, we’re gonna talk game plan and go back to Mexico for a while until things settle.”

Miguel texted on his phone, it was safe. “They’ll be up.”

They must have been somewhere in the church, it only took a minute for the room to fill up. Only 8 guys; his cousin Angel, Miguel, Jesus, Ignacio, Felix, Spiro, Lucas and Fernando. It seemed like it had been longer since he’d seen them. They looked like men on the run; unshaven and rumpled clothing. It was obvious they hadn’t been sleeping well if they had been sleeping at all.

Xavier took his place at the head of the table and the rest of the guys fell into place at the other setting. Ignacio opened the bottle of tequila poured for everyone. They held up their glasses. “Now we are nine and we will do with nine what we did with 50.” Xavier took the first sip. The others followed, all except for Angel. Miguel hand was already reaching to pour another shot.

“You didn’t drink Angel,” Xavier asked.

“No, I don’t drink anymore.”

“What do you mean, you don’t drink anymore?”

“Man after the Bromley. I had to reevaluate my life. We killed a lot of innocent people. I took a look at myself and I realized I had to make some changes.”

“What? Oh I get it you don’t want to take a shot cause you already high,” Xavier said. The others laughed. “I’m bout to pour my third shot” Ignacio struggled to say in between coughs.

“I’m also a vegetarian now.”

“Angel, you are a drug dealer and a gun runner.”

“Cousin, that’s what I do, that’s not who I am.”

Ignacio was still coughing. Not many were coming to help. Spiro, at 80 pounds overweight, was sitting back dead in his seat. Blood was just starting to come from the corners of his mouth. Jesus was trying to reach for his gun, but his body seized. He fell onto the floor, coughing up blood and parts of his lungs. Angel took a look around; Fernando was sweating blood and trying desperately to catch his breath. The rest… Spiro…all of them dead or almost.

Xavier took the gun out of his sock and pointed it to Angel. “Take a drink Angel.”

“What did you do Xavier?”

“Please Angel, just take a drink.”

“Go to hell man. We family, real family. What you into now?”

Xavier couldn’t look Angel in the eyes. Instead he focused on his forearms. There was no reason for Angel to make it easy for him, “I have no choice. It’s you or me.”

“Then you die man. Who’s putting you up to this?”

“Take the damn drink!”

“NO! This mess is your fault. You brought all this heat and now you just gon kill everybody. Man you greedy. I looked up to you man. You ain’t…”

Xavier fired off the gun. Angel now had the same size hole in his chest that Raymond did. The room was suddenly quiet. Xavier poured himself another glass of tequila. He looked around and wondered how much blood a body holds. The church would have to get new carpet now cause this wasn’t come up.

*****

It was just Morris in the room, there was the doctor and a few attending nurses, but Morris was very much alone. Both set of parents had died years before and they had no children. He wasn’t sure of the friends she had. They were friendly with their neighbors in a “hi” and “bye” sort of way. The pastor that works with the hospital came and said a few words. How do you say a few words for someone you don’t know? Something about leaving this world and going into the next. “Was she saved?” “No,” he answered. “Does that mean she’s going to hell?” Eerie looks were thrown his way. Perhaps this wasn’t the time or place to have this conversation.

They pulled the plug. The doctor left first, touching Morris on the shoulder, “Sorry for your loss.” Then both nurses…”Sorry for your loss”. The pastor stayed behind. Stacey’s heartbeat was getting fainter. “You can leave Father?” “I can stay,” he replied.
“No, please leave. Thank you for your kind words.” Morris hadn’t cried since he was a child. He felt the pain welling up from the bottom of his stomach. The pastor hugged him, like a father would hold a son. He hugged him in a way Morris didn’t think he deserved. The wall holding up all he was hiding broke as if a semi drove through it. Morris didn’t just cry, he wailed. He dropped to his knees, the pastor got down with him. People walked by. Morris didn’t notice. He was crying Stacey, for Walt and for himself. On his knees, he cried for almost an hour. Morris wasn’t sure when it happened, but Stacey’s heart stopped. The pastor stayed with him the whole time; on his knees, praying silently.

*****

A few minutes later 5 men in hazmat suits came in followed by Romulus. “Can I have a minute with him before you clean up?” It was a rhetorical question. Of course they left. Romulus took the back of the chair Angel fell in and turned it on its side, throwing Xavier’s dead relative onto the floor like balled up snot rags. He checked for signs of blood or anything else before he sat down.

“Persey made me the same offer I made to you. The world was at a different place, the agenda was getting its first legs. We didn’t have the technology to do what we can do now. Now everything is coming into place. I met Persey at a diner near my old neighborhood. He gave me a list of addresses. I recognized them. They were members of my gang. He then gave me a gun, 3 clips and some bus fare. He told me to think of it like a video game. I was to go to each house on the list and kill the guys I banged with. To make it interesting, I could leave no witnesses, which meant killing whoever was in the house with them at the time.

I had to knock on the doors. It was like, Hello Mrs. Walker is Derek here? She let me in and even made me a plate of leftovers. I prayed Derek wouldn’t come home and I would have to leave and move on to the next house. But Derek did come home, 15 minutes later. I had to successfully hit 5 of the 7 houses listed. I killed 8 people, 3 of them completely innocent.

Afterwards I took the bus to another diner a several miles away. Persey was waiting there. He told me he saw something valuable in me. He wanted to offer me another way of life, a way to use the things I’m good at for a higher purpose. I see the same things in you. You did good 73624. Welcome to the agency.”

Romulus got up and held out his fist, “Blood In, Blood Out. Xavier pounded fists with him, “Blood In, Blood Out,” he replied. Romulus got up and headed toward the door. He looked back. Xavier was still sitting at the head of the table – his eyes glazed over.

“Xavier” he called out. “The next time, just shoot the target. We think time will make it easier to pull the trigger – it won’t. Like they will say something to give you peace or make peace with it themselves – they won’t. You did well. Keep the gun. It’s a gift.” He disappeared into the hallway and the hazmat uniforms walked in with body bags which once filled were hauled out of the room like trash. Xavier took the gun off the table and put it back in his sock. His cell phone rang. The driver was waiting downstairs for him to take him back home. His next assignment was waiting.