Life as a New Hire Ch. 19

"We won't know everything until the discovery phase of the prosecution's case," he politely answered.

"It keeps getting better," I sighed. "They have nothing because there is nothing. As far as I know, my Father never fired a gun in his life."

"I'm not a gun-runner. I'm not a runner of any kind. I'm a cyclist. I've never been arrested for anything. I'm pretty sure my Dad never was. All my wages in sin were earned through my philandering ways. When sex is involved, I can be incredibly deceptive," I told him. "Outside of sex, I've never seen the point.

So you don't know me and you don't know what's going on yet you assume I'm guilty - thus in need of your services. I have proven I don't need someone who knows less about this shit than I do. You can go out there, find out what I'm charged with and what evidence they have, proving your worth, or you can get lost. Either way, good day, Mr. Pratt," I yawned.

Off went Lawyer Pratt and down my head went on the table for a bit of a nap. They had taken all my clothes and accessories at the Medical Examiner's crime scene. I had no way to tell time, except through my hunger and thirst. Theodora came storming into my room, hellishly infuriated. She flashed a phone at me.

"What is the meaning of this?" she snapped. Two other agents were crowding into the room. I looked at the picture of an African-American girl around seven.

"It is a girl," I responded. Theodora looked like she was going to slap me.

"Which one of your sick friends broke into my house and did this?" she was truly steamed.

"What? Huh? Is the girl okay?" I stammered. I was seconds away from a police brutality suit.

"Someone broke into my house and did this...put the bows in my daughter's hair," Theodora trembled with rage.

"Why do you think it was me? For starters, you've stolen my phone and clothes. I've been held in this box for God knows how long and I don't want to know you, much less your little girl," I growled as I stood.

Theodora tried to slam me back into my seat, but I blocked her and retreated to the corner. Hands went to their holsters.

"Sit down," Theodora seethed. I sat down in the corner. "Sit in the chair."

"Wow...you've just told me you suspect me in something odious happening to your daughter," I said. I was also curious why Pamela had done that to her daughter. I'd find out later.

"Why you are even investigating this is beyond me," I added. "Conflict of interest maybe?" Brock pulled Theodora back.

"Take your seat, Mr. Nyilas," he demanded. I took my seat. "Now..."

"Shut the fuck up," I lost my temper.

"Shut the fuck up. You are keeping me in custody without charging me with a damn thing," I spat my outrage. "I get the feeling this is SOP for you sons of bitches. Congrats. I'm sure there is a long list of people sick and tired of you shitting on their lives and getting away with it under the cover of law and justice.

Now, since none of you are shouting about a death, or kidnapping, I'm going to guess that someone fucked with Theodora here," I kept attacking. "From my limited experience with you dipshits, she deserves it for forgetting she - and the rest of you - are public servants. So some wacko broke into your house and put bows in your daughter's hair. Boohoo."

"You get to go home tonight to your family. I get to sit in this room because...hell if I know why? Is it because I know people? Guns? Drugs? Terrorist chatter? Speeding? Jaywalking? An illegal wire-tap? Littering?" I mocked them. "Theodora, you are giving me shit over your daughter who you can hug tonight...if it is still night, while I will never get to do that to my Father and you don't seem to care about the 'who', or why."

"When I pin this on you, Nyilas, I'm going to find out what real law and justice is," Theodora menaced me.

"I don't know what is more hilarious," I groaned, "you switching your priority to a maniacal bow-tier, from some group that has been running around, shooting up Chicago, or..." I coughed.

My throat was getting dry from my blathering and a lack of something to drink.

"Or, you have learned nothing. Whoever did this was sending you a cautionary note. Having been under your boot heel for-fucking-ever, I couldn't have sent anyone to do anything because of your perverse fascination with pummeling my civil rights.

So, someone else was/is trying to send you a message," I muttered. "If it wasn't some helpless child involved, Theodora, I'd wish on you the heartache of losing someone you love so you will have an inkling of how bad I feel right now. I'm not that guy though. I hope your family stays safe. When I have a problem with someone, I come right at them.

I certainly don't hide behind the innocent...the legal system, or the abuse of power," I wound down. There was a knock on the open door. Holy Shit! It was Nicole Lawless, Attorney at God.

"Who are you?" Brock spun on the newcomer.

"Hey Nicole," I yawned.

"Hey Cáel," she answered. To the rest, "I'm Nicole Lawless with [the Legion of Undead Litigators] and I'm taking over Mr. Nyilas' case."

"Wait!" I raised my hand. "I need to know something first." There was a pause. "Nicole, are you wearing underwear?"

"Sweet God, you are exhausted," Nicole compassionately noted. "No, I'm not." Underwear.

"Great. You are hired," I declared then slumped in my seat. After Nicole's arrival, things got easier. My only request of Nicole was that she rescued Rachel as well. That minor miracle accomplished we left the federal offices - the Federal Plaza downtown didn't contain this madhouse.

The first stumbling block was instantaneous. There was a nice stretch limo waiting for Nicole, me...and Rachel with the two well-dressed bodyguard types by the front and back doors. Since Nicole was certainly a tool of my aunts and my aunts had set the wheels in motion that got my Father killed, I went with option B; the second outdoor couple - Pamela and this woman I didn't recognize.

"Cael?" Nicole was surprised when I deviated and headed down the street.

"Nicole, you could be working for the people who had a hand in my Father's murder," I enlightened her. "I don't hold it against you. I don't think you knew. I'm still not getting in that car. When I figure out where I'm going to end up, I'll give you a call."

"Cáel, are you sure?" Nicole called out.

"Absolutely. Let me get some sleep and we can talk," I sighed. "Tomorrow over breakfast?"

Nicole nodded, a bodyguard opened the door and followed her in. The woman by the front-passenger door got in then the limo pulled away.

For me, it was back to the GL550s and away we went.

"I am Esmeralda Carbonne," the newcomer introduced herself. She was a 'Runner', probably working with some Havenstone operation in Chicago. The Amazons couldn't be everywhere in strength. They weren't built on the octopus-model like the Illuminati, or Egyptian Rite.

They had three types of holdings as far as my Executive Services experience had shown me. There were only a handful of urban strongholds, Havenstone HQ NYC being the biggest. The most common holding were rural centers much like Doebridge - places where Amazons were the majority, if not all of the entire population.

The third kind of holdings were like Chicago with a few businesses owned by Havenstone being monitored by a small band of Amazons. Esmeralda was one of the latter. She'd be our eyes and ears in my hometown and it was clear Esmeralda was unhappy. Figuring out why wasn't all that difficult.

There had been a serious miscommunication between Esmeralda's group and the SD team sent to Chicago that had ended up at my Father's. The SD had requested an address and background information then insisted they perform their own reconnaissance. Afterwards the locals had been frozen out of the information flow.

"Hang on to your disbelief," I cautioned Esmeralda. "My Father and I are descendants, by an ancient male line, of a deceased Amazon First House. My ancestor dates back to the end of the Second Betrayal. He was sent on an official mission and told someone would come back to him and the few males with him."

"Since he was on the rolls of the Host, so were all his offspring - until my Father and me," I said. I let her digest that.

"Your father was the...Head of a First House," Esmeralda gasped. "I had no idea."

"I don't think any of us truly appreciated the position my Father was in," I met her worried gaze.

"I was awarded the Head of House Ishara because I was the only active duty member of Havenstone. Late Sunday night/early Monday morning, it was revealed that my Father had married a prominent member of the Illuminati. That is what went wrong," I confessed.

"We should have been..." Esmeralda grumbled.

"You weren't because we both work for some highly competent, trained, brave and proficient knuckleheads," I espoused the frustration Esmeralda felt. Her eyes flickered to the SD team. "I'm a Head of House," I patted her knee. "I can get away with crap like that. There is no denying the SD team fought well."

"Had a member of the local holding been present they would have only performed better - in my opinion anyway," I added. Esmeralda was soaking up a freight train of new information. Male - male Amazon - male member of the Host - and finally, Male Head of House. She had psychologically defied a male-dominated world and here she was confronted with a male authority figure.

The social experiment went to the next level.

"How so, Ishara?" Rachel challenged me.

"Good question; Esmeralda, it is late at night, a team is scouting out the side and back of a single family, corner lot dwelling. Three cars roll up, covering both streets. What do you do?" I asked Esmeralda.

"During a recon - I would assume hostile intent, let them deploy into the yard then verbally confront from cover. That many people in that situation - I would prep an ambush," she said.

"The Protocols," Rachel countered.

"The second they cross the property line of a dwelling under our protection, they are acting with hostile intent," Esmeralda answered.

"There is a codicil concerning the presentation of force," Pamela spoke up, "that agrees with Esmeralda. The section of recognition agrees with the Security Detail. Rachel, the team at the Nyilas house did nothing wrong. They would have been better off adding a few local 'Runners' to provide situational relevance. We honor the dead by learning from their deaths."

"I concur," Rachel admitted. "In haste, we failed to utilize the local sisterhood's expertise."

There was a long hiccup in the conversation. Rachel and Esmeralda had both been right, but Esmeralda had been 'more' right. For Esmeralda, it was another awakening. It was unlikely that she was in Security Services, so her 'expertise' wasn't combat.

Different from other secret societies, every Amazon was taught to think tactically. A security detail guarding a Head of House had just validated her opinion, and in front of a Head of a First House. That had to be especially satisfying.

"Where are we going, Tiger Lily?" I asked my driver. Esmeralda gave me a curious look. I shrugged.

"We are going to the Hotel Burnham," she informed me. Groan.

"You do know that the Hotel Burnham is nowhere near the town of Burnham, right?" I sighed.

"Then why do they call it the Hotel Burnham?" Rachel rebounded.

"The hotel is named after the famous Daniel Burnham, not his far less famous cousin, Telford Burnham, who founded my home village," I related the elementary school facts.

"I suppose we should have asked Esmeralda first," Pamela teased.

"Wouldn't have done any good. I'm from Yakima in Washington State. I've only been in Chicago three years," the local shrugged.

"Do we deviate to a closer location, or stay on course?" Tiger Lily requested.

Rachel, Pamela and Esmeralda were looking at me.

"Havenstone will be sending our gear and reinforcements there, so we stick with the Hotel Burnham," I decided. "Also, Tiger Lily, what's with the name?" She gave a long suffering sigh.

"My mother was adopted from the Shoshone tribe one hundred and fifty years ago, I have no worries about crocodiles, pirates and ship anchors, and I do not wish to kiss a flying boy," Tiger Lily clearly retold her constant source of teasing.

"I am named for my grandmother, who was named after her mother's ally during World War II. As far as I know, that woman never read Peter Pan, though I wish she had," she finished up. Without a doubt, an Amerindian Princess named Tiger Lily was giving me, Cáel aka Cabbage-Head, and Bomophoto a run for our money in the 'cruelest names for kids' category.

(Hotel Burnham One)

"E...fuck it all if I'm calling you Esmeralda every time - might be best utilized for close contact with Cáel," Pamela spoke on our final approach to the hotel. "I'll be out and about."

"We need a second team in town immediately," Rachel spoke. With her blue tooth in Federal custody, she had to get a new set of toys to communicate off the grid.

"I will not tell you how to do your job, Rachel," I was telling her how to do her job. "Why do you need extra people? I have faith in the team we have."

"Ishara, were we not a few minutes ago liberated from governmental containment by agents of the Illuminati, who most likely murdered your father and tried to steal his body," Rachel responded patiently.

"Rachel, they will not try to kill me because I am a member of the Illuminati," I said straight-faced.

"Ishara, that is a poor jest," Rachel politely scolded me.

"The jest is that he's not lying, Rachel. He is a member of the same faction that could have accidently killed his father," Pamela spoke with chilling forcefulness.

"They didn't want my Father, the descendant of Vranus," I continued. "They wanted Ferko Nyilas, husband of Sibeal O'Shea." Oh crap...it had been so long since I'd used Mom's name. She was always Mom - Mom - Mom. "Sibeal O'Shea was the daughter of Cáel O'Shea. Cáel O'Shea was head of the Illuminati and the Amazon's assassinated him.

I have been warned that my Uncle wants me dead. My Aunts want me for...other things."

"What do they want?" E asked. It was the whole 'men as a true asset' problem for her.

"The whole repository of nefariousness..." Pamela started to explain, but then, "Double Word Score!" Pamela and I exclaimed excitedly then 'high-fived'.

Yes, you spiteful Cosmos, I had found my soul-mate and she was a near-octogenarian with a macabre sense of humor - who also had a telepathic ability to know my mind. E looked totally lost in the exchange.

"Yes...the whole repository of nefariousness was created to be sterile," Pamela picked up the conversation.

"Which makes the very existence of Cáel here very noteworthy - virtually inexplicable," she mused.

"What have the labs at Havenstone think of this?" Rachel worried.

"I refused to go back in for any more tests," I met her gaze.

"But it could be important," E joined in.

"I will make it easy on you both - I'm a horrible person. I'm the Head of House Ishara and I elect to not put my fate in the hands of the same people who leaked my very existence to the Illuminati during the first set of tests," I stated. "Which is why I'm here in Chicago burying my Father, in case any of you missed it."

"Certainly knowing what is going on is more important than the risk of further exposure," E persisted. She got kudos for sticking to her guns.

"Esmeralda, I work for Katrina Love, Head of Executive Services," I responded. "By that I mean I have this nifty little glass table in a corner of her office.

Me stressing over my genetics isn't really important. Katrina is on the case and I haven't been out of college for two months yet. If the difference between Havenstone getting in a fight with the Illuminati and keeping the truce is my blood sample, she'll let me know," I added. "As far as Ishara is concerned, Havenstone had an information leak that got a house member killed."

"Do you have other family?" E inquired hesitantly.

"Blood kin? Not in this country and certainly not anyone I could name," I sighed. "I case you are wondering, there are a grand total of three members on Ishara's roster."

"Is the rest of your family safe?" E was trying to sound upbeat.

"Safe? Of course they are not safe. They both work for Executive Services, Esmeralda. They were 'Runners' who I inducted into Ishara. They are Amazons of the Host and that means never being safe this side of the cliffs. Friday morning I presented them to our ancestors and they were welcomed as equals - as sisters to those who have the blood of Mycenaeans on their hands," I turned to look out the window.

"What was it like?" Tiger Lily inquired. "The induction."

"If you are looking for a vision of a stone hall with thousands of war-like Amazons holding me in judgment, you'll be disappointed," I recalled. "I had to create the ceremony from scratch - ash, tears and blood.

"I felt strong enough about that instinct I let Desiree slap me until I cried enough tears. With Desiree's knife, I cut myself, they cut themselves and our blood mixed," I finished.

"That is not how it is done," Rachel corrected me.

"No," I stopped. "It is not how you do it.

House Ishara has come back from the void that waits for all those who are dead and have no one living to recall them," I explained. "We are not the other Houses. We are both Love and Oaths and there is a lack of respect for each of those virtues in this World."

"I never considered Amazons as overly romantic, but we are true to our oaths," Esmeralda was starting to bask in the openness of the exchange.

"I do not doubt the integrity of anyone in this vehicle, except for me," I gave her a weary grin. "The failure of oaths is mine. Ishara was bound by an Oath and has failed in her pledge. You are wrong about the romance and I am sure you have misunderstood my definition. I live for the day when no sons are sent to the cliffs as newborns - Love, Esmeralda. Love."

The hush pressed upon us until Tiger Lily pulled up in front of the Hotel Burnham. Rachel, E, Charlotte (from the second GL) and I went in. I wave the others back as I went to the desk. Rachel and Charlotte had grey duffel bags with 'stuff' inside. E had my minimal kit.

"Cáel Nyilas with Havenstone," I introduced myself. Yes, I was in 'prison' gear.

"Director Nyilas...welcome to the Burnham," he recovered quickly. "Which rooms do you wish to use?" Thank you, Helena, no I'm a damn Director. He twisted the screen so I could see the list. Eleven doubles and a Lakeview Executive Suite with two adjoining Deluxe Suites.

"We'll use those," I indicated the Executive/Deluxe/Deluxe.

"Very good, Sir," he nodded. "Will you be ordering room service? I'm afraid the Atwood restaurant has closed for the evening."

"Sounds like a plan," I looked at his name tag, "Steve, or do you prefer Mr. McCabe?"

"Steve will do fine, Director..." Steve started.

"I will make it easy on you Steve," I sighed. "Call me Cáel. All this Director crap is for the benefit of people I barely know. I am here, in my hometown, to bury my Father - who was murdered yesterday." Steve paled. "The FBI gave me these spiffy duds. If any law enforcement shows up asking for me, give me a ring first."

"Nyilas...from Burnham? I read about that," Steve seemed bemused. "The day shift Assistant Manager is from Burnham too." How wonderful, I thought sarcastically. Steven sensed my waning interest. "Your keycards, Sir - Cáel and my sympathy for your loss."

"Steve, never miss a chance to tell your loved ones how you feel," I took the cards. "That is my biggest regret with my Dad. I didn't think about it the last time we talked."

Steve gave a final nod. I rejoined my group and headed for the elevator. The rest was a tired blur. The rest of the group showed up, including Pamela. I called Nicole to tell her the situation then called Timothy despite the late hour to make sure he was okay. Timothy informed me that two 'psycho-chicks' stopped by as a kind of 'meet and greet'.