part0019

A s she stared up at the majestic steeple of what had previously been a major landmark in Brooklyn, Raina quietly remarked, “Such a beautiful church—why has it been abandoned?”

Mason shaking his head at the shuttered stained-glass windows grunted bluntly, “I don’t know—guess folks round here don’t go to church anymore.”

As they carefully walked toward the side of the building, Benton offered his own rationale, “Nah—it’s not church attendance. It’s gentrification.”

Raina questioned, “Gentrification?”

Benton nodded, “Yeah—from what I hear they want to demolish this old land mark to make way for new apartments and condos.”

Raina gazing at the rich stained—albeit shuttered glass above them, sighed, “Oh—that’s terrible. What a waste.”

As Mason guided them around the building, he gave his own rationale, “Well—at least it puts roofs over people’s heads, because right now it’s just another empty building in Brooklyn.”

Benton carefully watching their rear, then remarked, “Yeah, I just wonder how empty .”

Coming upon a side door, Mason nodded to Benton before reaching an arm out to fling the door open. Benton then charged through with gun drawn with Mason and Raina following close behind. Inside they saw what appeared to be nothing more than an empty church. Empty church pews, empty platform, and an empty altar.

Mason seeing a hallway by the platform then motioned the others to follow him, saying, “Over here—the rectory!”

Recalling what the abandoned church in DC was like, Mason figured the perps were up to their same old tricks. And since the DC terror cell had stashed a treasure trove of information in the church rectory over there, he figured they just might be dumb enough to do the same thing here in NYC.

Relying upon his instincts—or what Mason referred to as his “gut” Benton and Raina dutifully followed Mason up the steps and out into a small passageway that led to what must have been some priest’s rectory a long time ago. But the place was completely deserted. In fact, it looked like it hadn’t been used in ages.

Knocking away a few cobwebs Mason muttered to himself, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Raina happened to notice a calendar on the wall, took a piece of paper towel she had in her pocket and wiping away several layers of dust, read out loud, “May/1989”.

Mason groaned, “Yeah sounds about right. This place certainly looks like it hasn’t been used in about 40 years or more.”

Benton not wanting to waste any more time then advised, “Alright, we better call Kyle.”

Mason pulled Kyle up on the commlink, “Hey Kyle—it looks like you gave us a false lead.”

Mason didn’t quite mean for his words to sound like a criticism, but to ever so sensitive Kyle, it most certainly did. To him it seemed like an outright attack as he stuttered, “Bu—but that’s impossible!”

Mason disagreed, “No buddy, I’m afraid its all too possible. This place is deserted.”

Kyle was adamant however, as he repeated, “No! I don’t believe it! I have the data right here! This is the place that all that foot traffic is coming out of!”

Benton hearing the exchange looked at Mason and mouthed the words, ‘Kill it.’ Mason tired of trying to convince Kyle, nodded in agreement, before telling Kyle, “Alright buddy, we have to go. We’ll see you at the base.”

Kyle could be heard still pleading his case in what almost sounded like abject desperation, “Wait—Mason. I think—” The only thing that silenced Kyle’s frustration was the forced hang up of the call.

Benton looked at Mason, “Damn that sucks.”

Mason agreed, “Yeah… Alright come on Matt, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Raina meanwhile couldn’t help but notice that while Mason kept directly addressing Benton, he was barely even acknowledging her. It was obvious that he was suddenly trying to keep his distance.

And as they stepped out of the church it was Benton, not Mason, that checked on her, “You doing alright Raina.”

Clearing her throat, and attempting to hide her disappointment, she informed him, “Yeah Matt—yeah I’m fine.”

Mason heard her however, and he knew that chilled, pensive tone of voice meant that she was most certainly not fine . Finally relenting, he walked over to her, and explained himself, “Hey Raina, sorry if I seem distracted, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”

Raina let out a slight laugh, “Uh—yeah I think we all do. This is a high stakes mission we’re in the middle of.

Mason quietly replied, “Well, yeah…” But didn’t offer any further explanation.

Raina was glad he was at least acknowledging his foibles, but she was still at a loss to understand how to clear the tumult in Mason’s psyche. She knew that she could never replace his dead wife, but if he would just give her the chance, she would do her best to accommodate him. She was frustrated, but she was still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She squeezed his hand and told him, “It’s alright Mason.”

This was followed by Benton making the announcement, “Alright folks, our chariot awaits.” Just as his hummer was seen turning the corner and heading right for them.

The car stopped, and Benton barked into his phone, “Okay—unlock.”

The car’s doors were then heard unlocking. Benton got in the driver’s seat, Mason got in the passenger side, and Raina opened the side door hopping into the middle row seat of the hummer, right behind Mason and Benton.

Benton switching his car back to manual, then started to drive out of the heavily gentrified Brooklyn neighborhood. He didn’t get very far however, before Mason suddenly shouted, “Hey stop! Stop the car!”

The way Mason was shouting, you would think that someone had been killed. Pounding the brakes Benton anxiously questioned him, “Mason what is it?”

Mason motioning toward the church now a few blocks behind them, desperately tried to convey, “Back! We have to go back!”

Mason catching his breath then explained, “The Church—there is some kind of graffiti on it. Take me back to take a look!”

Benton was a bit incredulous, “Graffiti?”

There was graffiti all over NYC, what was the difference? But Mason insisted, “Damn it. Just take me back. Please!”

Benton was never one to argue with Mason, and so trusting his judgment he turned the hummer around and brought it back a short distance away. From here the group piled out and converged on the hitherto unseen side of the building that had so captured Mason’s attention in the rearview mirror of Benton’s hummer.

Standing before the graffiti scrawled wall, at first no one else could see what Mason saw. The wall was absolutely covered with gang signs and nonsensical tags by local graffiti artists. Raina staring at a graffiti drawing of some kind of big eyed, green skinned alien sitting on top of a flying saucer, his mouth wide open as he prepared to shove what looked like a Big Mac inside of it.

Raina remarked, “Uh—this just looks like some crap some stoned teenager sprayed across here.”

Giving Mason a look that suggested perhaps he was working a bit too hard, she asked him, “Are you sure you’re alright Mason?”

Mason wasn’t paying attention to the outlying junk of previous graffiti artists however, he was looking deeper, because right in the middle of this mural he pinpointed something that no one else had seen. Raising his hand to the center of the wall, he pointed, “There! Can’t you see it?”

As they squinted their eyes—they did indeed see it. A red stream seemed to run right by the comical image of the alien, and nestled inside was—in plain English—the phrase, “By blood we cleanse.”

Raina muttered, “Uh—I’m guessing whoever drew the happy hamburger munching alien didn’t do this!”

Mason shook his head, “No this was added on later. And I have a good idea by who.”

Benton mulling it all over in his mind, “But would they really be so stupid to leave a calling card like this? Or are these guys just so freaking out of their minds that they no longer care?”

Mason shook his head, “I don’t know…”

Mason squinting his eyes at the wall then stumbled upon a stunning realization. The red river served as a kind of optical illusion hiding a secret door to the building. The red paint perfectly flowed and rippled like a river obscuring the cracks of the door, and incredibly enough, what appeared to be the graffiti alien’s mouth was actually a cleverly obscured doorknob!

Realizing as much Mason muttered, “Damn—their hiding in plain sight. that’s what they are doing.”

Benton not yet making the connection asked, “What—what are you talking about?”

Mason then informed them, “This is a freaking door.” Worrying that someone might pop out at any minute, Mason realized it would be better to do some surveillance first as he ordered, “Come on let’s take cover!”

Benton nodded, and the three of them went back into the shadows of the alley, and finding a dumpster Mason barked, “Alright let’s get in.”

Raina staring at the dumpster almost thought it was a joke, “You are kidding, right?”

Mason was not. He vigorously shook his head, “No I’m not. We can watch from inside.”

Benton then peeked into the unit, “Don’t worry! It’s empty! Trash day was today—looks like they already picked up.”

Raina muttered, “Lovely…”

Grabbing a hair tie and quickly tying her hair behind her head she remarked, “So now I’m dumpster diving? Just what the hell was I thinking when I signed up for this kind of work?”

Mason came over and clumsily reached for her waist, in an attempt to hoist her into the dumpster, telling her, “Come on Raina—it’s not that bad. Let me help.”

Raina surprised him however, by expertly knocking his arm away as she insisted, “Forget it Mason—I can get in myself.”

Mason was impressed with the fashion in which she had used her forearm to knock his hands away, he knew that this was a taste of her finely-honed martial arts ability.

Realizing he had met his match, Mason acknowledged, “Alright, that’s fine Raina. Go ahead.”

Raina then stepped on top of a crate and impressed all of them with her finesse as she leaped like a cat right into the dumpster. Mason and Benton were a little less artful as they basically grabbed the top of the rusty trash bin and hoisted themselves over.

Raina staring at her teammates as they stood across from her in the belly of a dumpster that smelled like a mixture of beer and rotten tomatoes asked, “Okay so now we wait?”

Mason pointing to the ventilation crack in front of them that gave them a full view of the hidden graffiti door, informed her with what amounted to an old military motto, “Yeah Raina—it’s time for us to hurry up and wait.”

ABOUT 20 MINUTES LATER. The group getting frustrated in their smelly confines were about to call the whole thing off, when suddenly they saw movement. A man with dark hair and mustache, dressed in an expensive Armani suit came into view as he hurriedly made his way down the alley and straight to the hidden door.

Mason seeing the sight, remarked, “Well—it’s not like you see that every day. Someone dressed to the hilt sneaking around the back alleys in the seedy side of Brooklyn.”

The group then watched as the guy opened the door and was greeted by a man with a big thick beard, and dress that seemed to indicate he was perhaps Mideastern in origin.

Seeing this, Benton added to the commentary, “Ah—and it gets even more interesting….”

The well-dressed man then went into the door and the Mideastern looking fellow shut the door behind them. Raina suddenly thinking of Kyle and how distraught he was to think his facts had been wrong, told Mason, “Hey Mason—we better report back to Kyle what we found out.”

Mason not really feeling like it, asked, “Is it really necessary?”

Raina gave him a look that meant business however and ordered, “Just tell him.”

Mason giving in to her demands, put Kyle through on the commlink. “Hey Kyle! You there?”

Seeming to hesitate for a moment, Kyle answered in a subdued voice, “Uh—yeah. Yeah I’m here.”

Mason then informed him, “Well—you remember how I told you your lead was wrong?”

Kyle already defensive answered, “But it wasn’t!”

Mason laughed, “Alright boss you win. You were right after all! We found them! The bastards are here just like you said!”

Kyle feeling tremendously vindicated by this turn of events, joyfully shouted, “I knew it! I knew it!”

Mason knowing that time was of the essence however, sought to cut through his chatter, and asked, “How’s your satellite data? You got a lock on this place?”