"WHO'S SPEAKING?" A muffled voice asked. I stood in the basement of Uncle Sam's house, the birthplace of my ingenious idea, battling yet another migraine. Rubbing my temples, I looked in to the mirror hanging above the broken sink. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips. I had cut off my mid-length wavy hair into a blunt bob, and dyed it dark brown, but my blonde roots did not disappear. They remained there, colored but visible; valiantly saying look at me. I am your past, your present, and your future. You can hide me from others but you cannot hide from me. I am you and you are me.
"This is Blue Hawk," I said, deepening my voice. "Connect me with the Gray Copper Cobra, pronto."
There was a moment of silence as the man on the other end flipped through a record book and found the proper phone extension. I had to thank Raul—without his intelligence, I would be a worm in a pond, gobbled up in a matter of seconds.
"Understood, Blue Hawk. Please stay on the line while I transfer your call," he said, not bothering to offer up any personal information, maintaining a no-nonsense attitude. "It will only take a few seconds. Have a good day."
"You too—" I said, but he did not bother to stick around for pleasantries.
"Y'ello, this is G.C.C. What can I help you with today?" A familiar voice said.
Pressing the phone closer to my ear with my shoulder, I turned around from the mirror and buttoned up my plaid shirt.
"Raul—It's Annie," I said, without hesitation.
As a former double agent working for both the U.S and the Soviet Union, and later being kicked off for becoming a "liability," Raul, whose real identity was unknown, had accrued a lot of intelligence that, if exposed, could threaten the security of this nation. Fortunately for me and the U.S government, he had no interest in being a whistle blower or a traitor, per se, but his loyalty, and thereby his library of knowledge, could be bought at a steep price.
It had been a profitable investment, but like any business contract, I made sure to keep all my bases safe. To him, I was Annie: a young, passionate woman looking to exact revenge from the leaders of the mafia; and, to me, he was Raul. We both had our secrets, and that's what made our bond stronger.
"Annie! Just the lady I wanted to talk—can you believe I was just thinking 'bout you?" Despite his years and wisdom, he had never quite managed to curb his bouts of energy that were bound to wind him up every now and then.
I laughed in a hand-crafted manner, which I had perfected over the years. It came in handy when I had to deal with men like him, but the giddiness in the laughter picked at my internal scabs. "Oh, Raul! You've got to get over your obsession of me. I'm underage, remember?"
A boisterous laugh pierced my left eardrum, and there was little I could do to erase the image of his beer-gut bouncing as he laughed from my mind. There were just something a fourteen-year-old, no matter how mature, should never see.
"You're quite the jokester, Annie! You know I'm not like those other men. I have two daughters of my own, for god sake!" he exclaimed with all the seriousness of a little kid at a candy store.
I gagged involuntarily.
"You alright, Annie?" he asked, the mirth in his voice sizzling out. Although I could not handle Raul at his happiest, his serious side was by far the worst.
"Oh, yeah, yeah! I just stepped on a cockroach, that's all. You know how filthy those things can be. Gives me the damn creeps," I said, shuddering.
My heart jumped into my throat at the thought of him being offended or, worse, suspicious. Cursing myself for acting impulsively, I almost began a spiel of apologies, but he wiped away many of my worries in a matter of a few sentences.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. His voice was no longer jovial, but, thankfully, it wasn't laced with accusations and presentiments, either. He cleared his throat. "Speaking of creeps, I'm assuming you're calling about your next move? Have you settled on anyone yet?"
I grunted as a response.
"I take that as a no, then?" he asked.
I huffed, toying with my artwork that was laid out on my chosen table. "I have some options, but I don't wanna move too quick, you get me? That's why I called, really. To get your opinions on things."
He scoffed. "Everybody these days want my opinions on things. But, you're luckily...you remind me of my dead sister, and for her I would do anything. So, tell me. What do you want to know?"
Looking above, I silently thanked his sister, wherever she was, before diving into the details of my plan. "Glad to have you on my side, buddy. So, as I was saying, per your information, currently there are three ringleaders in the U.S controlling ninety percent of gangs across the country: Opaque, Scorpion, and the King. And, as you mentioned last time, all three of them have heard of me in some shape or form by now, right?"
"Well...Annie, these are powerful people we're talking about," he said, a heaviness settling in his voice. "Now, I don't know which one of them you're after, or if you're crazy enough to go after all of them, but if my sources are true...they know of you. And, I say, that's more than enough."
I smiled. "That's exactly what I want, though. I need them to know that I'm out there, looking for them, and that I would destroy everyone in my path to get to them."
He chuckled, but I got the sense he wasn't laughing with me. "You need to tread lightly, dear. Your childish ambition is admirable, but it won't do you any good in a real fight. These are seasoned criminals we're talking about, Annie. Each of them has a long list of crimes they've committed, from murders to robberies, you name it. And, they've got connections with just about everyone."
Unconsciously, my hands curled up into a fist. "If you think that you're gonna talk me out of this, you're mistaken, Raul. I know full well what they are capable of. But, I'm not afraid. I'm fully invested in this, and the only person who could talk me out of this is dead. So, don't waste your breath."
"You're quite the stubborn one, Annie. I'd love to meet you one of these days and see your passion in person...but we can discuss that later," he said. "For now, if you're confident you can pull off a large-scale underground revolution and upheave the powers that be, then I'm all for it. I'd love to see those bastards get a taste of their own medicine, if you know what I mean. What's your next move?"
My eyes bored into the criminal family tree I had drawn, hoping it would speak to me. "Like you said, they've been in this game for decades, and that means they've practically covered their tracks. Invisible, some might say. And, I can't track them directly.
"But, if I destroy their foundations—the least powerful connections they have—and make my way up, they're gonna have to come out sooner and later. You know, if you wanna to see the queen bee, attack it's breeding ground—the beehive."
"How are you gonna do that?" he asked, scratching his beard.
"As the dominos fall, vulnerabilities in their proverbial shield will come out into the open and I'm gonna attack them in all the ways I know how," I said, leaning against the table. "By the time I'm done, they will know more than just my name."
He was silent in the wake of my admission, most likely trying to guess my future moves to be a couple of steps ahead of me, but I didn't let it bother me. Instead, I, too, envisioned the day I would be face to face with the man I had been dreaming of for the past six years. Raul did not know the man who had royally screwed my life over, but I could not forget him even if I tried.
Picking up a sharpie, I circled the name at the top of the family tree, furthest to the left: Opaque. Creating thick circles around his name, I didn't stop until I had engulfed his name in a sea of heavy black ink. Just as I had done on the paper, I was going to wipe him off the face of the earth, even if it was the last thing I did. It would be my legacy. I would make sure of it.
"Who's next on your list?" he asked, breaking the radio silence.
My eyes moved down the list. "I hear the Blue Vultures leader, Santiago, has gone into hiding recently. I think it's time to draw him out."
"What do you need from me?"
I examined my artwork with the eye of an art critic at a gallery. "I still have a couple of blanks in my family tree. Any word on the identity of Opaque's right hand man?"
"Give me a sec," he said, and in the background I heard the rustling of papers. "Yeah—the word on the street is...his name is Blaze. Supposedly, he reports to Opaque, but runs his own side-business, so his loyalty is shifty at best. Way too cunning for his own good, if you ask me."
I didn't ask. Nevertheless, I wrote down his name in the blank space underneath the large black spot now taking up a corner of my magnificent artwork. In due time, I was going to deal with him because from the little I knew about him, it was obvious that he was my gateway to the lion's den. If I wanted Opaque, I had to go through Blaze and Mo'grits—his bodyguards.
"Thanks," I said, leaning over the table. "I almost have everything I need."
"Do you need my help with Santiago?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Not yours, specifically."
"Then whose?"
I straightened my spine. "You still in contact with the bomb manufacturers?"
The confusion was evident in his voice. "Yeah?"
"Good. I'm gonna need you to hook me up, then."
{. . .}