Vengeance: Book 2 Tragedy

By LeRoy Powell III

Vengeance is the story of a group of young people caught up in a world of conspiracy, betrayal, inner-city violence and racial turmoil.
United under the common interest of uncovering The Complot, Vengeance is recognized as a threat and their unseen enemy proceeds to eleminate them with a scheme that may leave no one alive.
As some return to their old ways, others delve into new dangers. Enemies mount, tragedy strikes, and in the end, there is division, destruction and death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 21, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469712444

LeRoy Powell III

This is LeRoy's first book. After years of fear, he has decided to jump into the writing market despite the risks.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Internet was a convenient program. With it, Agent Shelen Yang could converse with her superiors at anytime without having to fly back to Washington DC at the drop of a hat, or even hop in a car and drive to Base 1. The people who sent her to Beganning wanted a full report. Some of the questions that they asked puzzled her because she had assumed that this knowledge was already at their fingertips in the form of documents in the computers or paperwork in a file. But she didn’t question it. She just told them.

They wanted to know all about Vengeance, the team of young people Yang had been sent to lead. They wanted to know more about Detective John Gen and Detective Leon Steivers. They wanted to know everything she could tell them about The Complot, the threat that brought Vengeance together.

The way that they had worded the questioning, it seemed that they had never even heard of Blake Hodges. They asked Yang about the death of Troy Gen’s mother and the murder of Kay Steivers, Quincy Steivers’ younger sister. They wanted to know how Arthur Rivers and Veronica Walker (although they used her mother’s last name, Nagai) came to be part of Vengeance and a lot of questions came up regarding Carlin Rico. When she mentioned Master Long, they responded with a simple who?. It was strange.

At the discovery of Special Agent Blair’s treachery, Agent Yang’s superiors were shocked and they typed as much in their response. According to them, Blair was a respected, accomplished agent. That was why they teamed her with him. The fact that The Complot had spies in the FBI said something about the enormity of the case.

Continuing with her report, Shelen mentioned that Troy, Quincy and Arthur had graduated from high school. Since there had been no action since the Thirteenth Ave. battle, the team was able to act out relatively normal life, as boring as that was. Some of them kind of hoped that the Loco’s gang leader, Riconndo, would start some trouble just to keep things interesting. Baptized in the excitement of life or death battles with ninjas and gangs, sitting in class for six hours a day just wasn’t very exhilarating. But it was finally over, and there wasn’t a prouder group of parents than those of Vengeance.

Veronica still had another year left, while Carlin seemed to have never been in school. Her past was still untraceable and the FBI directors were curious to find out more about her. They promised Agent Yang that they would look into it further.

After completing her report, she received her specified instructions. Her primary mission would be to find Special Agent Blair and bring him in. She was also to gather any information she could get on Carlin Rico, Master Long, and Blake Hodges.

Right away, she got to work on it. She was content that she could work on this for hours without being disturbed since everyone else was engaging in other activities. With the lack of action, they did that a lot to escape the melancholy of the investigation. Evidently immune to the emotional decease, Yang worked on the case far more than anyone else. Even Gen and Steivers took breaks and watched a little TV or went out to eat with the team. Shelen had no such desires for fun. She had a job to do and she wanted to prove to the people she worked for that she was capable.

Only 21 years old, she was inducted into the FBI, despite the fact that 23 was the minimum age accepted. The fact that she was a genius probably helped them overlook her age deficiency. If looks had anything to do with it, than that may have been the grain that tilted the scale in her favor.

She could see herself in the mirror that she had place to the rear-left of her computer screen. It wasn’t for that purpose, but rather as a security devise allowing her see what was happening behind her in case someone was sneaking up on her. One of many tricks she had learned long ago.

Her face was round and kind of flat with thin, dark-brown eyes that slanted downward just at the right angle. Her lips were thicker than that of a European, but thinner than an African’s and her wide nose completed her model face. A strand of black hair had creeped its way onto her forehead and she took it and rejoined it with the rest of the short stuff that filled her head. It was straight, and not long enough to style in any exotic way, so she simply let it sit naturally, but unconsciously pushed it back to make it seem longer.

Of course, she did not see herself in such a beautiful perspective, but she overheard the comments that some of the guys back at the academy used to make. She heard those comments and the ones not so nice. Shelen had not seen another Chinese person at the academy at all. No Latinos or Hispanics either. There were a few African-Americans and several women, but still in the tradition of J. Edgar Hoovers’ days, the Federal Bureau of Investigations was mostly made up of white males.

She returned to her work and was getting quite deeply involved in it when she noticed movement in her mirror.

Are you gonna stop to eat anytime soon? the person at the entrance said.

I’m sorry? Shelen half turned her head towards the intruder.

I said are you gonna stop to eat anytime soon? Arthur Rivers repeated.

No, I’m not hungry. Thank you.

Oh, well you sure? Arthur asked stepping fully into the room. Cause I was going out to grab something and I thought that maybe you would like to go to a nice little restaurant with me and... you know... do something other than work on this case.

No thank you, I’m fine. Shelen said, still paying close attention to what was happening on the screen.

While he was inside, Arthur took a look around Shelen’s office. It was hot and stuffy in there, this was one of the only times that she had the door open. The place was dull in Arthur’s opinion. The walls were white and blank, just as they had been before she moved in, and her blinds were half open, as if she didn’t care if sunlight came in or stayed out. No decorations, or pictures of family, trophies from martial arts tournaments that she must have won, nor ornaments that represented her Chinese heritage were placed in the little room to give it any sort of life. There was nothing that brought out her personality, nothing that said, ‘this is Shelen Yang’s office, these are the things that make me, me’.

So how’s it going? Arthur asked looking at the screen. Some kind of personnel file was being displayed. The face of Special Agent Blair was almost halfway scrolled up, taking up the left side of the screen while Tyrone Mills was on the other side.

Eyes glued to the screen, Shelen explained.

I’m not sure if I’m progressing or remaining stagnant, but if we can find at least one of these two men, then we’ll have taken a great step toward uncovering The Complot.

And how are we going to find them? Arthur continued the conversation.

At this point, Rivers, I don’t know.

Arthur almost physically cringed at the fact that she still called him by his last name. She was so professional... and intelligent... and mature... and beautiful.

We could just start tearing the city apart. he suggested.

Shelen pursed her lips, but still didn’t look at him. I don’t think it will come to that. Assuming that they are still in Beganning.

Well it seems that Blair was ordered to take us out, and I’m sure that he can’t report back to The Complot until he does, so that means that Tyrone is probably here, too.

For the first time, Shelen turned and glared at Arthur. The awed look on her face was dazzling and she seemed to stare at him a little longer than necessary.

Not much had changed about Arthur Rivers. His face was still stubble free, hair simply refused to sprout from his face. In the months since the Thirteenth Ave. battle, Arthur’s hair had grown about an inch and a half, it now stretching down to the small of his back. Most of the time, he kept it in a bound horse tail and sometimes wrapped it around his neck. He got the idea from a kung fu movie.

A wise suspicion, Mr. Rivers, admitted Shelen. You may be right.

You can call me Arty, you know.

That’s quite all right, Rivers. First name basis relationships are very unprofessional.

Oh, well... I don’t think of you as... an associate. Arthur stumbled on the words. You’re more than just some chick the FBI sent to help John and Leon with their investigation. To me, you’re... special. And I’d like to get you know you better.

Yang’s smile vanished.

I see. She turned back to the computer. Running the mouse along the screen and clicking at key areas to bring up the desired programs, the friendliness in her voice was replaced with the usual all-business tone.

If you will excuse me, Rivers, I have a lot of work to do and I’m just not as proficient when someone is looming over my shoulder.

Oh, hey, sorry. Arthur stepped back, I didn’t meant to come on so strong, I hope I didn’t offend you or anything.

No not at all. Shelen assured him. I’m glad to see that you are interested in the investigation. If you want any further updates I can brief you as things develop.

Arthur’s heart sank. Okay. Uhh... you sure you don’t want anything to eat before I go?

Yes, positive, thank you.

CHAPTER 2

She had warned him when they first started going out that no matter where she went, she would always draw mass amounts of male attention. She hated to speak of herself in such a way because it sounded like she was conceited, but she couldn’t deny the truth. Lark Hodges’ beauty was like lies to a politician. It was her nature and it always made her the prime candidate. Her lure had even started more than a few fights throughout her dating career. In fact, she held a lot of responsibility for her boyfriend’s bitter enemyization of Tyrone Mills. Who knew, if they had not both tried to step to her at the same time, maybe they never would have met and the series of devastating events never would have taken place.

Her boyfriend, Quincy Steivers wouldn’t accept it though. He reminded her that he and Mills had crossed paths before he had ever seen her and assured her that they would have become enemies regardless. As far as Lark’s beauty drawing a lot of attention, that was a price he declared was well worth being with her.

But, the comments still got on his nerves. They usually consisted of the same hormonal based ideas, stated differently from person to person. Among the most common were: Damn, she is phine!, or Mm, mm, mm, look at that ass! or the one that really boiled his blood, I’ll tear that pussy up!

Ha, ha, and ha again. Nobody was getting into Lark. She even gave Quincy a scorning when he began to put on the pressure. But she would be worth the wait. It was almost impossible to find somebody like Lark Hodges nowadays. A wholesome, cultured female of unparalleled beauty, not caught up in the temptations of sex and the wild life. Someone a man could engage in intellectual conversation with or go out and have a good time with and a brotha could be himself and not ‘spit’ the perverbial ‘game’ that a lot of sistas expected. To know her was to respect her, like being around a queen, or better yet an empress. She was what every man, every real man, wanted in a woman.

When Quincy first met her, Lark had hair that almost covered the back of her neck, but now she had it cut short, in the original Tony Braxton look. She had soft features and her pure gold eyes were like a pair of suns, blinding anyone who was unworthy to look into them.

Lark was also a most voluptuous woman. Her physic was blessed in such a way that she had no need to dress sexy because her attributes stood out proudly as if bombs were going off underneath her attire. And the way she moved was like a stream of bliss, nearly an act of intercourse by itself.

Not being big on make-up, Lark usually didn’t wear any, but tonight, the little that she did wear embellished her features like an impressionist’s painting. As ravishing as she looked Quincy thought that it was too much, but he wouldn’t say anything, she was very sensitive of visual criticism. It made her think that she was vain and trying to make herself beautiful. Her worst fear.

Quincy had made some changes, too. The mustache and gotee that he had been growing was getting pretty thick and he had to get it trimmed a little every now and then to keep it from looking wild. Before, he liked to leave a little hair on his head to make the fades. Now he went bald. It fit him as well as any of the handsome stars that had the same style.

He was not quite as timid about his good looks as Lark was. He knew he looked good. Especially now that he was getting more of his manly look on. His biceps were as big as Arthur’s now, and even more shapely. The two of them liked to arm-wrestle to see who was strongest. So far, he was dominant with his right hand, but Arty won everytime when they clasped left hands. His shoulders framed out a chest which seemed to have been made from a boulder. Pectorals chiseled out by some Greek sculptor. It wasn’t uncommon for Quincy get a couple of stares and double takes of his own.

But as handsome as Quincy was, Lark still blew him away.

You know, Quincy began, leaning into her from across the dinning table. Sometimes I wonder how did I end up with you?’

What do you mean? Lark said without looking at him.

I mean, what do you see in me that makes me so special? It’s a lot of other brothas that I’m sure you would like to be with.

Oh, Quincy, Lark reached over and caressed his face. I love you. There is nobody else for me but you. So stop wondering. You’ll never lose me.

I think I already am.

Lark looked puzzled.

You seem kind of distracted. he explained. What’s wrong?

Oh, nothing, it’s just... our neighbors are getting on my nerves.

She had complained about this before. The Hodges were the first Black family to move into the neighborhood. Half the residents had probably never seen Black people in real life before and they assumed the worst. Lark could just hear them saying there goes the neighborhood.

The problems started from the moment the moving truck arrived. Her father had hired an all Black moving company and one of the neighbors called the police and reported that some Black people were stealing from the house. Of course when the cops got there, it was obvious that the furniture was going in, not out. But it didn’t stop there. Any crime committed in the immediate area, Blake Hodges was always suspect number one. After a few months, the police realized what the problems was, and ignored many of the calls.

Then they moved to city regulation laws. In order to keep officials off of his back, Lark’s father had to maintain his property to a state of perfection. The tree in the front yard had to be groomed regularly, the grass fertilized and trimmed, the house painted, and no garbage laying around. God forbid if he tried to make any additions to the house.

So what are they doing now? Quincy asked boredly.

Now they think that my dad deals drugs or something because he can afford to take care of the house so well.

Quincy made a snub face and shook his head. When will they learn?

I’m serious, Quincy. This is really bugging me. Lark whined.

I know. It bugs everybody. Is there something I can do?

I wish there was... her sad voice trailed off.

Up to this point, Quincy merely dismissed his girlfriend’s low spirits as ‘the hardships of being Black in America’, but now he was seeing that it was destroying her spiritually, and soon, if something wasn’t done, she would be supernaturally obliterated. The only problem was that the struggle against racism was a war as old as civilization itself. Not much an eighteen year old, fresh high school graduate could do to stop it. But he could at least try.

You know, someday, we’ll overcome all of this. Someday, people will look back at all this racism and stuff and laugh at how stupid it is.

Thank you, Martin Luther King, but that dream just seems so out of reach. Lark mumbled.

I did say ‘someday’. Quincy emphasized. Not necessarily soon.

To tell you the truth, I don’t see it ever happening.

Well now you sound like my mom. Quincy sniggered.

Lark tilted her head like some android who was initializing a program to change subjects. You said she was in Philadelphia didn’t you?

Quincy nodded.

Tell me about her. Lark stared at him with those beautiful gold eyes. It took Quincy a minute to pull out of the trance.

Well, first of all, I look nothing like her. Everybody says that, but I don’t see it. I look like myself and nobody else.

Lark giggled and continued to stare.

"Let’s see, she’s kind of tall, and a little darker than me. Not cocoa