held at all costs. His deal with the U.N. Secretary-General—his dream for America—depended on keeping New York free.
“There is no one to meet you.” The disgust in Yossef’s voice was clear as day.
“Yes, so it seems,” replied Malcolm. He patted his doting guard on one massive arm and tried to smile through the anxiety. Had something happened? “Come,” he said, motioning towards the only illuminated door in the dark cavernous garage. “Let’s see what we can find.”
“Malcolm, you are sure this is the right place?”
Malcolm grinned. “I assure you, Yossef, we are in the right place. This building is going to be my new headquarters.”
As they approached the door, Malcolm thought he could hear something. Almost like a moan. He paused, cocked his head and tried to listen. “Do you hear something?” he whispered.
Next to him, he heard the rustle of fabric and slight click of the safety on Yossef’s sidearm. The big man gently nudged Malcolm aside and made for the door, pistol out in front of him. It looked like a toy in his massive hand. “Stay back,” he rumbled.
Malcolm took a few more steps forward, not willing to alone in the near-darkness of the massive, empty garage. It was childish to be fearful—he was a grown man—but nonetheless he felt safer as he grew closer to his mountain of a bodyguard.
Each step echoed in the garage. The sound fought against a rhythmic thumping noise and definite moans that Malcolm could tell were emanating from the other side of the access door. He stopped in his tracks the instant he knew what was going on and frowned. Anger replaced anxiety and fear. He walked forward with a purpose, catching Yossef before the bigger man had reached the door.
Without a word, Malcolm grabbed the door and flung it open. A shriek of surprise mixed with a groan of pleasure as a well-endowed Sister—topless with her shorts around her ankles—tumbled forward onto the ground at Malcolm’s feet.
A skinny, mostly naked and sweaty Brother yelped and fell over backwards in a futile attempt to cover his nakedness and fell unceremoniously on his ass in the lit stairwell.
“The fuck, man!?” he yelled as he rubbed his ass and tried to yank his pants up. He staggered to his feet and reached for his rifle, leaning casually against the cinder-block wall of the stairwell.
His erstwhile partner rose unsteadily to her knees and turned glassy, doe-like eyes on Malcolm. She wobbled there and tried to reach for Malcolm. “Ooh, hey baby…I was just finishing up…you want some too?” she said in a drug-induced sigh.
She rolled her eyes and giggled as Malcolm angrily swatted her groping hands away from his pants.
“What is the meaning of this…this outrage!?” roared Yossef. He pointed his pistol at the now cowering man.
Footsteps echoed down the stairwell as Malcolm collected himself and gently pushed the wretched Sister out of his way. She fell over on the hard concrete and giggled, sprawling on her back, exposing her nakedness even more. He frowned and stepped past her, focusing on the erstwhile guard.
“Oh…oh, shit …you’re him! ”
“Yes,” growled Yossef. “Him.”
A sweaty man in spectacles barreled down the last flight of steps and staggered to a stop just short of the scene at the bottom. “Oh no,” he moaned.
Malcolm’s face lit up. “Samir!” He reached out and embraced his regional commander in a hug of sincere friendship. “My friend! I am glad to see you well.”
Samir grimaced as he pulled back from his leader’s embrace. “I apologize, Brother, this shameful—”
Malcolm waved him off. To be honest, he was more tired than angry and just wanted some unbroken sleep. But first he had to get a lay of the land. “Think nothing of it. I believe Yossef can ensure our friend will not be lax in his guard duties again,” he turned to Yossef. “Am I correct?”
“You
“There is no one to meet you.” The disgust in Yossef’s voice was clear as day.
“Yes, so it seems,” replied Malcolm. He patted his doting guard on one massive arm and tried to smile through the anxiety. Had something happened? “Come,” he said, motioning towards the only illuminated door in the dark cavernous garage. “Let’s see what we can find.”
“Malcolm, you are sure this is the right place?”
Malcolm grinned. “I assure you, Yossef, we are in the right place. This building is going to be my new headquarters.”
As they approached the door, Malcolm thought he could hear something. Almost like a moan. He paused, cocked his head and tried to listen. “Do you hear something?” he whispered.
Next to him, he heard the rustle of fabric and slight click of the safety on Yossef’s sidearm. The big man gently nudged Malcolm aside and made for the door, pistol out in front of him. It looked like a toy in his massive hand. “Stay back,” he rumbled.
Malcolm took a few more steps forward, not willing to alone in the near-darkness of the massive, empty garage. It was childish to be fearful—he was a grown man—but nonetheless he felt safer as he grew closer to his mountain of a bodyguard.
Each step echoed in the garage. The sound fought against a rhythmic thumping noise and definite moans that Malcolm could tell were emanating from the other side of the access door. He stopped in his tracks the instant he knew what was going on and frowned. Anger replaced anxiety and fear. He walked forward with a purpose, catching Yossef before the bigger man had reached the door.
Without a word, Malcolm grabbed the door and flung it open. A shriek of surprise mixed with a groan of pleasure as a well-endowed Sister—topless with her shorts around her ankles—tumbled forward onto the ground at Malcolm’s feet.
A skinny, mostly naked and sweaty Brother yelped and fell over backwards in a futile attempt to cover his nakedness and fell unceremoniously on his ass in the lit stairwell.
“The fuck, man!?” he yelled as he rubbed his ass and tried to yank his pants up. He staggered to his feet and reached for his rifle, leaning casually against the cinder-block wall of the stairwell.
His erstwhile partner rose unsteadily to her knees and turned glassy, doe-like eyes on Malcolm. She wobbled there and tried to reach for Malcolm. “Ooh, hey baby…I was just finishing up…you want some too?” she said in a drug-induced sigh.
She rolled her eyes and giggled as Malcolm angrily swatted her groping hands away from his pants.
“What is the meaning of this…this outrage!?” roared Yossef. He pointed his pistol at the now cowering man.
Footsteps echoed down the stairwell as Malcolm collected himself and gently pushed the wretched Sister out of his way. She fell over on the hard concrete and giggled, sprawling on her back, exposing her nakedness even more. He frowned and stepped past her, focusing on the erstwhile guard.
“Oh…oh, shit …you’re him! ”
“Yes,” growled Yossef. “Him.”
A sweaty man in spectacles barreled down the last flight of steps and staggered to a stop just short of the scene at the bottom. “Oh no,” he moaned.
Malcolm’s face lit up. “Samir!” He reached out and embraced his regional commander in a hug of sincere friendship. “My friend! I am glad to see you well.”
Samir grimaced as he pulled back from his leader’s embrace. “I apologize, Brother, this shameful—”
Malcolm waved him off. To be honest, he was more tired than angry and just wanted some unbroken sleep. But first he had to get a lay of the land. “Think nothing of it. I believe Yossef can ensure our friend will not be lax in his guard duties again,” he turned to Yossef. “Am I correct?”
“You
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