The Desert Lion's True Colours (40 page)

W
ithin those two weeks Leon and Jay had become re-acquainted with some old friends and had made some invaluable new ones. Another plus was that the damage to Leon’s Ankle had healed quite a bit and had proved not to be as bad as first suspected. The pen had made its way through skin, flesh, and muscle but had missed the bone and tendons by millimetres,
-
which the private doctor (he visited in Port Charlotte), advised him should reduce his recuperation time by a few weeks. However in the meantime he had to rely on the use of crutches
–
which he hated to the tenth degree. But at least the final verdict was a marked improvement on the initial thought that passed through his mind at the time of the injury occurring. Jay was also on the mend. Along with Leon he was able to have a full review and appraisal of his wounds and was advised he should have pain free movement of his shoulder within a month or so. The both of them stood under a shaded tree a few feet away from the main crowd that had congregated into an uneven horse shoe shape around the open grave, waiting for Chief Edward’s casket to be lowered into its darkness. The funeral service and grave site was situated in a quiet area of Palm Dale located west of Hollywood. It was only 11:45am but the Miami sun was beginning to make way for its afternoon heat causing all those present to start feeling weary. Leon counted at least eighty people,
-
mostly FBI agents, mixed in with several other federal agencies and a few news reporters from T.V stations all dubiously owned by the same conglomerate.

Just like the voice had predicted, stories were quickly concocted to cover the real cause of death for both Chief Superior Upson and Chief Edwards. For Superior Upson his funeral was quickly planned for the following week. The official story was that he died in a freak accident while trying to put out a fire in his home. Camistock must have had a clean-up crew go in and remove any evidence of the Superior’s dealings with them. The only scenes shown on T.V were shots of the Superiors house, completely burnt to the ground but no sign of the bullet filled Mercedes, Excursions, Hummer’s or the twenty dead bodies that had been lying across the lawn when they left. The news unsurprisingly turned out to be a very big deal. Due to the Superiors position and political contacts his funeral was spectacle. Even the President and other officials of the Whitehouse were present. However, Leon did not care and neither did he attend. His memories and feelings surrounding the Chief were much more important than Superior Upson. The Story of Chief Edwards passing was also issued nationwide but on a far smaller scale. He had supposedly passed away while on active duty due to a heart-attack. Leon would wince every time he heard the lie told by known news anchors faking remorse, all too willing to read whatever information they were given on the tele-prompter, as long as it kept the nation riveted to their faces.

‘It is a tragic loss.’ One CNN reporter commented.

‘He did so much for his country. He will be sorely missed.’ said another.

‘If only they knew the truth. The real truth.’ Leon thought.

Jay gently tapped Leon’s right crutch with his foot and drew his friend’s attention to a lone Caucasian man, walking towards the funeral from the other side of the gathered mourners. He was wearing sunglasses a navy blue suit, black shoes and a white shirt
–
unbuttoned at the top. He discreetly joined the back row of people standing on the left side of the grave,
-
which faced the tree Leon and Jay stood under; and sternly looked on as the Pastor finished his sermon and then motioned to the grave-side help,
-
dressed in there green sleeveless overalls with tattoos of guns and the words ‘Thug Life’ blazoned across their arms to lower the coffin. As far as Leon could tell there was no family present just past colleagues, most of whom Leon reasoned were all secretly wondering what really happened to Chief Edwards but were too scared to ask the right question to the wrong person and end up attending their very own eulogy.

While Jay scanned the congregation for anything or anyone that seemed out of place, Leon kept his eyes on the man who had just joined the crowd. The low wine of the machine came to a stop as the coffin hit the base of the grave and Leon heard the Pastor say something about
‘dust
to
dust
and
ashes
to
ashes
’ and then give the signal for the grave-side help to finish their job. Within minutes the straps used to lower the coffin had been raised and the majority of mixed federal Agents and news reporters had melted away
-
almost as if, staying too long would be a sign of something indecent. A few of Leon and Jay’s Ex-FBI colleagues walked by them as they stood underneath the tree but none of them said anything, just kept their heads down and kept on walking as if Leon and jay never existed. The official story within the department
-
issued from FBI head-office, was that Leon and Jay had been fired for gross miss-conducted shown during the case involving Black and the South-Side Syndicate
–
which eventually resulted in the DEA urging the court to throw out the case due to a lack of evidence. The stigma alone turned Leon and Jay into outcasts, which in turn made them enemies of all law enforcement. Sure they were not picked up and arrested but they could feel the eyes of the law following them everywhere they went. They may have been alive but the career they had worked so hard for was dead and gone.

A few more minutes had passed and now all who were in attendance had departed, except the new arrival in his pristine suit and shiny black leather shoes. He just stood by the edge of the grave watching the two helpers
-
could be escaped convicts, shovel dirt back into it hole.

‘What you think he’s doing… ?’ asked Jay. ‘. . . He doesn’t think we’re going to walk down there.’

Leon did not reply but clearly understood where his friend was coming from. The distance between them and the suited gentleman was at least 20 ft. which made the walk from their location
-
under the tree, seem very exposing.

‘Well, I ain’t moving?’ Jay said abruptly. No sooner did those words leave his mouth the guy in the blue suit started to waive at them.

‘Is this guy being for real?’ Jay said sternly.

‘Quick, go down there and see what he’s saying.’

‘And what about…’

‘If he wants it
-
Then he needs to come over here.’

Jay nodded in response and without saying another word began the slow walk over to the grave. When he was about 10 ft. away the guy moved from his position and took a few steps forward to meet Jay on his arrival.

‘Afternoon…’ He said with a smile.

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah…’ replied Jay. ‘. . . What’s the deal?’

‘I think you have the reasons for this meeting confused.’ replied the suited gentleman. ‘I believe you were advised to be here with the bonds.’

‘Hmmm, I’m not sure how to tell you this,’ Jay said smiling ‘but I believe
YOU
were miss-advised. See as far as I’m aware we were just told to turn up in our Sunday best and on time and as luck would have it
-
tadaah. Here we are.’

‘Don’t test my patients.’ The man snapped back. ‘Do you have the bonds or not?’

Jay smiled, looked at the two tattooed men
-
who had now stopped shovelling dirt and was trying their best to listen in on the conversation, before saying, ‘Not.’

‘Very well, have it your way.’ The man replied.

The guy looked at Jay, then over at Leon still standing under the tree and scoffed. Taking a phone out of his pocket he said, ‘I never understood people like you.’

‘What does that mean?’ Jay replied.

The man did not answer. Just shook his head and waited for the person he had just called to pick up. After a few rings he said ‘Hello, sir… Yes, I’m here.’

After a short pause he looked up at Jay and gave him a look of slight expectation but upon getting nothing in return, looked away and almost regrettably said ‘No sir. They don’t.’

Jay smiled to himself as he watched the guy on the phone take what seemed to be a long list of orders and then hear him say ‘Yes, sir. I understand…’ However before he could say anything else Jay moved in and snatched the phone from the gentleman’s grasp. Disappointed he had failed to stop Jay from taking his phone, Clive reached for the weapon hidden within his jacket. However to his astonishment the clear, crisp sound of multiple guns being cocked, caused him to retract from his own weapon and drop his hands down to his side. Leon let out a chuckle.

‘Do you know who I am?’ The guy in the blue suite said
-
tapping his chest.

‘No and I don’t care.’ Replied Jay nonchalantly.

Placing the man’s phone to his ear he said ‘
Hello.
’ but no one replied. The line was dead. ‘I guess they don’t care what happens to you, huh?’ he said smiling.

‘Why do you think they would want to speak to you? You just don’t get it do you. But you’ll learn.’ The guy’s statement was spoken with a smile but carried a clear sinister tone. Jay did not care. Just shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah
-
Whatever!’ while motioning the grave-side help to move in closer. The gentleman turned around just in time to see the two men who were posing as diggers approach with both of their hands gripped around automatic pistols,
-
trained directly at him.

‘So what’s this supposed to be?’ asked the guy calmly. ‘. . . You’re planning on holding me hostage, or something stupid like that?’

Jay motioned to one of the grave diggers to retrieve the guy’s gun and then said ‘Ha, you should be so lucky.’

Turning his back on the man in the blue suit, Jay casually walked over to where Leon was still waiting and handed the guys phone over to him.

‘Did he say anything?’ Leon asked.

Frowning Jay replied ‘What do you think?’

A few seconds passed before the two fake grave diggers
-
known to Leon and Jay as Mervin and Delroy from the Norland Posse, walked up to them with the suited gentleman in tow.

‘Afternoon.’ Leon said cordially.

The guy in the suit did not reply.

‘What’s your name?’ Leon asked.

Still no reply was given.

Jay took his own gun from the waist of his pants, poked it into the man’s shoulder and barked ‘Yo, you deaf? He asked you what your name is!’

With a roll of the eyes the guy in his navy blue suit and unbuttoned shirt let out a sigh before unwillingly replying ‘Cedar. Clive Cedar.’

Resting most of his weight on his good foot, Leon raised his crutch and pointed it at Clive.

‘So Mr Cedar… I assume you work for the guy I spoke to on the phone?’

‘Yes.’ He replied,
-
looking down at the rubber grip on the end of Leon’s metal cane just a few inches away from his chin.

‘And I assume you were sent here today in hopes we would have brought the cash-bonds and the codes.’

Clive Cedar took his time to answer but after a short moment of silence he finally nodded his head and answered with a simple ‘Yes.’

‘Well I’m sorry to tell you I don’t have it.’

Smiling, Clive shook his head. ‘Well I suggest you be a good little cub and go get it.’ He said.

Leon was starting to get annoyed with that reference,
-
mostly because of what it represented
-
and let out a sigh.

‘Nahh, I don’t think you understand,’ Leon replied. ‘. . . When I say, I don’t have it, I mean, I don’t have it! It’s gone.’

‘What you mean, it’s gone? It can’t be gone!’

Tempted to slam the end of his walking-aid into Clive’s forehead, Leon lowered it to the ground, distributed some of the weight resting on his good leg into the arm holding the metal handle that stuck out from its side and said ‘Look. When something is not in my possession, in my mind, that shit
–
whatever it is
-
is gone. SO I guess you’re gonna have to take that trek back to wherever you came from and tell the dude on the phone I don’t have it.’

‘You’re either extremely smart or extraordinarily dumb.’ Replied Clive,
-
taking a step forward now Leon’s crutch was back on the floor.

Seeing Clive’s forward movement towards Leon, Jay instinctively raised his weapon for the kill but was stopped short by Leon vigorously waiving him off with his free hand.

‘No need,’ Leon ordered.

Allowing Clive to get just a few feet away Leon said ‘That’s enough. I can smell your breath from here.’

For a split second Clive Cedar was stunned by the insult but then was quickly revived with the thought that he was a grown man and was not going to allow a stupid statement to cause him to feel shame. He had power, money and respect. Something he was sure Leon and his cronies would never live to experience.

‘The only reason you are alive,’ Clive said dryly ‘was on the proviso you brought the codes and the cash bonds. Now you say you don’t have them, means the whole deal is off.’

Leon started to laugh.

‘What, the same deal my father; Pyro and the Chief were given? The same deal where we get used and can never say no deal? Well, we all thought about it and decided to, how should I say it… ?’

‘Fuck your deal.’ Jay cut in.

‘Yeah exactly that.’ Leon said smiling. He could see the anger building up in Clive Cedars face. His nicely tanned skin was giving way to a flush of red around his neck and cheeks and is hands were in the shape of fists. However Leon knew Clive was not stupid. Technically Leon was walking on one leg which made
him
the easy target however there were no less than four guns aimed at Clive’s back, which meant any sudden movement would mean lights out for him.

Leon gave Clive a smile, turned his back on him and began to walk away. Then over his shoulder said, ‘If it’s any consolation, I might know someone who has an idea where it is?’

Not moving from his position Clive Cedar replied ‘Who?’