Post by Press1269 on Oct 10, 2016 2:11:47 GMT
SEAT OF POWER - Chapter 7
THE SANDY SHORES PRIVATE AIRSTRIP
North Shore, New Orleans
10/07/2016 - 2:32PM
North Shore, New Orleans
10/07/2016 - 2:32PM
The limo pulled up to the small stretch of tarmac just outside of North Shore, a private airfield reserved for small aircraft and personal jets coming in and out of New Orleans. It was about an hour and a half outside of the metropolitan area, allowing for privacy and a quiet entrance and exit to the city that couldn’t be accomplished through Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport.
The stretch came to a stop in front of a Learjet 60, a 8 passenger aircraft that was rated for class and comfortable travel for long distances. The driver hopped out and rounded to the back end of the limo, and pulled the rear door open so that his charges could exit. A member of the awaiting flight crew was already at the rear of the vehicle, pulling luggage from the trunk to load onto the plane.
Joshua Tsabo exited the vehicle first, smoothing the front of his Armani suit and his baby blue silk tie, while at the same time turning and extending a hand to aide his companion. Scarlett Rayne accepted the help with chenille grace, and allowed herself to be pulled from the vehicle to an upright position on a pair of 9” heels.
On the other side of the limo, requiring no assistance, Andrew Kensing made his way out of the limo to join his two conspirators, a Halliburton brief case in his hands. He handed the brief case over to Joshua, who nodded with a resigned smile.
“It would appear our time in New Orleans must be cut short, my friend. If what they’ve told me in Israel is true, then we must act now before this opportunity slips us by. Just think of it Andrew, this time next year we could have in our possession the Ark of the Covenant!”
Andrew, who had always been a practical man, felt a rush of exhilaration enter his being that was unusual for his normal demeanor. He nodded, returning Tsabo’s smile. “Indeed, Joshua, our plans are moving right along. The Left Hand will finally achieve its endgame, and we will be exalted as the ones who brought about Armageddon, fulfilling God’s word. Certainly there will be much to celebrate in heaven when the earth is restored to the creator.”
Scarlett interrupted the two idealists with her own unique opinions, grounding them before they had the chance to sprout wings and take their place amongst the saints. “I only wish that we could have dealt with this other problem. It’s true the Priest is the one who made the connection between the theft of his item and our organization, yet it is The BombTrax that prompted all of that in the first place. How are you going to keep your offices here in New Orleans intact now that they are onto you and The Boston Club?”
Kensing’s face soured at being reminded of their breach in security, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to remain at The Boston Club. If those fools want to cause trouble for me there, then they may find themselves in for a rude awakening. We have police officers, lawyers, judges, even the Mayor who attend our events. You have to assume that their mission is as secret as ours, and they wouldn’t want that compromised by being foolish enough to take on the status quo here in New Orleans. It would be counterproductive.”
He paused long enough to sigh, and shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “Either way, we have what we need, and they have no way of recovering it now. As far as The BombTrax are concerned, they are small fish in a very large pond, and we are the sharks.”
Scarlett didn’t seem very satisfied with that answer, her own personal need for vengeance combating what she was hearing.
Joshua quickly interjected himself into the conversation before Scarlett could escalate the situation. “As you say, Andrew. Small fish. They will be dealt with, along with all of our enemies, when we acquire the promised land.”
This seemed to appease both of them for the moment, and Joshua turned to Andrew with a nod. “Andrew, take care of yourself.”
Andrew returned the nod with one of his own, “And you, my friend. Keep me apprised of what you find across the ocean.”
Tsabo bumped Andrew on the shoulder followed by a reassuring nod, and turned towards the steps leading up into the jet.
Scarlett gave Andrew no such farewell, only a glare of judgement before moving on to follow Joshua up the stairs.
Andrews lip curled at the departure of his rival, and he was secretly glad to be rid of them, but especially the harlot. He stepped over to the back of the limo where the driver still held the door, and slipped in. The valet was prompt in closing the door, and returning to the driver’s seat to make their exit. The limo pulled away just as the Learjet 60’s running lights chimed on, and the twin engines sparked to life.
Joshua and Scarlett took seats opposite one another so that they could converse easily, locking their seat belts in place for their departure. Once they were up in the air they could remove the restraints, and be free to get comfortable for their long flight across the Atlantic. The jet slowly spun around onto the tarmac, and the high whine of the engines built up until the brake was released, and they were pushed back into their seats by inertia. The world flashed by them outside of their windows, and the jet left the Louisiana ground behind.
***********
An hour later they were out of their seatbelts and moving around the cabin area freely. Joshua sipped on a rum and coke he had made in the galley, while Scarlett sat with her feet curled under her reading a book. Neither of them had paid much attention since taking off, so when Joshua finally opened his eyes and looked out the window, he was surprised to see nothing but ocean down below him.
Surely they hadn’t reached the Atlantic already? That was impossible. The only people onboard the jet was himself, Scarlett, and the two pilots in the front of the plane, so he didn’t really have anyone to question. He got to his feet, causing Scarlett to glance up from her book, and seeing the expression on his face caused her to drop the book to her lap entirely.
“What’s wrong, Joshua?” She asked, eyebrows arched.
“I’m not certain, but we shouldn’t be over the ocean already. There’s no way.”
Both of them turned and looked in the direction of the door that led into the cockpit of the plane, and Joshua signaled for Scarlett to be silent by lifting a finger to his lips. He stepped over to the compartment under his seat, and reached in, revealing a sig 9mm. He then cautiously made his way towards the cockpit door, the gun held out in front of him by both hands.
When he reached the door he looked back over his shoulder at Scarlett, who watched intently and gave him a reassuring nod. He reached out for the door handle, and as soon as his hand made contact, the door burst clear off its hinges.
Joshua was taken completely by surprise, his body trapped by the oncoming door and being pushed farther back into the passenger cabin. Finally, he tripped, falling back, and the door, and the force that was controlling it fell forward on top of him. Tsabo was crushed by the massive weight of his assailant, the shock forcing him to relinquish control of his gun which skittered under one of the seats.
Press looked up after his fall, a grim satisfaction as he got up to his knees and reached under the seat to find the Sig 9mm. Tsabo let out a grunt from under the door, but a bounce from the big man ceased his protests.
Scarlett reached beneath her skirt to grab for her lady luck on instinct, a derringer pistol that she always had strapped to her thigh for just such occasions. She looks up from her skirt to see that Press already has the Sig trained on her, and he indicates with the business end for her to toss the compact fire arm over to him.
She sighed heavily, her eyes narrowing, as she complied with his wish having no doubt that he would pull the trigger if he felt it was necessary. The derringer slid to just in front of him, and he scooped it up as he pushed himself up to his feet. There was a grunt from under the door from the sudden shift in weight, and Press smirked once he was vertical, giving the door a boot for good measure.
Scarlett’s scowl remained as she stared hard at Press, a man she hadn’t seen in several years, but knew all too well. “So, Redeemer, it appears you have us at a disadvantage. I assume you’re here for the item.”
Press smirked, stepping over the door and to the Halliburton brief case sitting in the floor beside where Joshua had been sitting. He picked the case up, and flopped it down in Scarlett’s lap.
“Open it.”
Scarlett regarded him with a cold smile, working her thumbs along the locking mechanism till there was a ‘click’. She pushed the case open to reveal the item that had created all the fuss. Press lifted the golden artifact from the case, a locator stone that if theories were correct, would lead the owner to a series of clues to the whereabouts of the Ark of the Covenant.
“Well, what are you going to do now? Leave us to our deaths out at sea?”
Press smirked, calling over his shoulder to the cockpit. “HEY, I need verification here.”
Youth appeared in the doorway, and Press tossed the artifact over to his partner. Youth snatched it out of the air, and took a seat in one of the empty chairs up front, pulling the tray table down, and setting the item on it. He closed his eyes while his hands hovered over the golden stone like a shield, and chanted a spidery language in a deep baritone voice. A faint purple light slowly began to build beneath his hands, growing brighter and brighter, until finally growing so bright that both Press and Scarlett had to turn their heads to the side.
Eventually the light faded, seeming to recede back into the object, and Youth cast Press a glance followed by a nod. Press turned back to Scarlett, and shrugged.
“We’re leaving you the pilot. He’ll make a landing in Mirida, Mexico. We’ll be leaving momentarily.” He said, turning to lean down and pull the door off of Tsabo.
Joshua groaned as he rolled over onto his back, clutching at his ribs which were certainly broken. He squinted up at the big man who loomed over him in a threatening manner.
“Listen, Tsabo. We know about The Boston Club, and now we know about your overseas ventures. What we do isn’t exactly legal, but neither is your operation, so you need to think about that before you get delusions of grandeur or plot your revenge. Just chalk this up to a loss, and let us be on our way. You stay on your side of the pond, and we’ll stay on ours. Are we clear?”
Tsabo turned his head to the side and spit out blood, and then glared back at the big man with contempt. He opened his mouth to make some retort, but found the barrel of the Sig shoved right into his mouth.
“That was a rhetorical question, moron.” Press sneered, lifting himself off the man so that he could prepare for their exit.
Youth bounded up beside him, and shook his head with a piteous expression. “I know this is going to sound strange, especially from me, but it would be a lot easier if we just killed them now.”
Tsabo’s eyes arched in shock mingled with a hint of fear, and Scarlett could be heard gulping behind them. Press let out a chuckle just before removing the barrel of the gun from Joshua’s mouth.
“I know, but that isn’t our way. We have to give them the chance to change their wicked ways. We are Redeemers after all.”
Youth clucked his tongue, and then nodded in agreement. Both men stepped to the back of the plane, and Youth reached into his pocket to pull forth a feathered talisman. He whispered a command word into the feather, one that Samedi had given him before they had departed on this venture, and the feather began to shimmer in an unnatural radiance.
Suddenly, and without warning, The BombTrax were gone in a burst of feathers and mystic wind, leaving Joshua Tsabo and Scarlett Rayne wafting a hand in front of their faces to stave off the smell of phosphor. Once the cabin returned to normal, he looked up at Scarlett who returned his gaze with a terse stare.
"I told you they would be a problem. We should have dealt with them before ever embarking on any new ventures!" She stated coldly, her voice raising at the end.
Tsabo clutched at his ribs as he got to his feet, anger bubbling up from every pore in his being other than the aching numb taking over his right side. "How in the hell did this happen? Andrew assured me that there had been no taps or recording devices. How could they know exactly when we were leaving, and what plan of departure we would take?"
"Perhaps the fault lies in trusting such important details to such an incompetent man." She seethed.
"ENOUGH!" He roared, sending a shock wave of pain through his body. "I'm sick of your petty squabbles with Kensing! We don't have time for it!"
She came forward in her seat, prepared to challenge him, especially in his injured state. "Petty? PETTY?!? He killed my best friend in cold blood! And you call that a petty reason to loath a person?"
"God Damn it, Scarlett, it was war! Monica knew what she signed on to, as did we all. Both sides took losses, and in the end it was all for nothing. I lost my mentor, you lost your husband, so stop pretending like you're the only one who has a right to prejudice."
"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" She fumed, taking a few steps towards him with her fists balled at her side, her neck muscles tensed. "I know about loss you pretentious prick, and I certainly don't need you to remind me about the price of war. I lost my son! He's out there somewhere in another dimension, and I'm here.....with you....completely helpless to save him. I'm no closer than before I joined this side of the coin, and now I'm beginning to think that I never will be."
"OH!" He waved his hand at her dismissively, rolling his eyes before turning away from her to talk to the pilot. "Stop being so dramatic."
Her eyes widened to the point of comical, and if she had been a cartoon, steam would have been pillowing out of her ears. She reached beneath her skirt like before, this time grabbing the item strapped to her other thigh. The short dagger, about 4 inches in length, felt comfortable in her hand as she stalked forwards to catch up with him. She raised it high over her head, and plunged the point deep into Joshua's right shoulder all the way to the hilt. He spun around in rage and pain, throwing his gloved left hand out to strike Scarlett across the jaw.
The blow flung her backwards reinforced by the granite skin he hid behind it, and he was on her in an instant, that same gloved hand searching for her throat. When it found it's desire, it clasped on with a grip like iron, and his mouth turned up into a vicious sneer as he squeezed with all his might. The woman struggled against him with fists to his chest, one hand even reaching up to try and plunge a finger into his eye, but he pulled back, gripping even tighter as she struggled.
Eventually her breaths became shallow, her usual olive complexion unnaturally white, and the strength in her limbs waned to that of a harmless death jitter. Joshua looked down into her eyes, watched as death stared back at him, and just as suddenly as the rage had taken him, it departed. He released his grip, and fell back into a seated position, the pain in his ribs, and now in his shoulder pulsing against his resolve. His head swam with what had just transpired, and he looked on at the woman who had been his lover for the past four years in horror. He had killed her. He hung his head, a mixture of emotions assailing him, the least of them shame.
Suddenly, as if an afterthought, Scarlett took in a deep exhale followed by a fit of wracking coughs. Tsabo's head snapped up as he watched her curl up into a fetal position, her hands reaching up to the red outline of finger prints around her neck. Relief rushed into him, realizing that he must have pulled back at the last possible second. He rushed to her side, cradling her head, and resting it on his lap. He caressed her face, petting her hair, shaking his head, uncertain what to say. Quite frankly he was surprised, surprised by this sudden emotion that was flooding him now for this woman who had just attacked him, had once been his sworn enemy, that he knew one day would probably leave him, or kill him.
She clutched at his pants legs, taking in more and more painful breaths, but still unable to speak. "Shhh...it's going to be ok. We'll get them back." He cooed to her, still stroking her hair. "We'll get them all back." There was finality in the man's claim, and despite her inability to respond, Scarlett Rayne smiled.
