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The Horsemen: Operative Under Fire
The Horsemen: Operative Under Fire
The Horsemen: Operative Under Fire
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The Horsemen: Operative Under Fire

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The introduction of the multicultural spy team based in Negril, Jamaica in it's third incarnation. Made up of the two brother's M'kai and Sebastiaen, Sebastiaen's assistant Katarasina, the former MI-6 agent, N'Kia and Alonzo the team liaison and the new blood Kaleo. The team must battle the D'kin Organization as they seek to stave off the sale of a deadly new creation, a biological weapon that has potentially world ending properties. The Horsemen must also come to grips with the fact that D'kin is the incarnation of a thought to be long dead partner. One M'kai and Sebastiaen considered to be a brother.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherLulu.com
Release dateJul 27, 2015
ISBN9781329197039
The Horsemen: Operative Under Fire

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    The Horsemen - Bijan Sebastian Williams

    The Horsemen: Operative Under Fire

    TheHorsemenOperativeUnderFireBijanSebastianWilliams

    Published by LULU books

    Copyright 2013 by Bijan Sebastian Williams

    All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written consent from both the author, and publisher LULU books, except brief quotes used in reviews.

    ISBN: 978-1-329-19584-4

    First Printing July 2013

    Printed in the United States of America

    10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

    This is a work of Fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real persons. All the characters, incidents and dialogues are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any references or similarities to actual events, entities, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, entities, places and incidents is entirely coincidental.

    If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the publisher has received payment for this stripped book.

    Cover Design: BS Williams

    Cover Photo:

    Editor: Michelle D. Williams

    The Horsemen™:

    Operative Under Fire©

    Poetry from The Nursery Rhymes Of The Damned

    by Aaron Banner Sturch

    Dedication: To the meanings of my life, my beautiful daughter Destiny, and my wonderful son Amani Sebastien. Next episode you will be in it munchkins! To my parents who instilled the love of reading and writing in me, and to my beautiful teenage daughters, to Aaron, brother you put in on this man! Good luck to your future writing endeavors, and finally to my gorgeous editor. Michelle, tirelessly you work and give great ideas, all of these books are directly blessed to have you a part of them.

    Masquerade

    (Of carousels and broken records)

    Reinforced facades tempered by well-founded lies abound here…

    Broken trust and broken hearts filled with resentments and fears…

    Bitter lessons learned through bitter legacies spurned…

    Family quote, inside joke, only takes one time to get burned…

    Play the game, change the names, in the end it’s still the same…

    Try to repair the broken, confess the unspoken, yet truth is for the sane…

    Repeat the choice, resent the facts, the curse is found within the veins…

    Darkened corridors, despise the past, yet it’s got such a tight rein…

    Bluest skies, sunny day, know there’s more to it all…

    Something’s wrong, something’s strong, confess to my fall…

    Got no clue, admit bitter views, lack of motion points to a stall…

    Pull on through, needing you, it’s me that you called…

    Where then am I weak? Having eyes yet cannot see…

    Feeling shame when the truth is shown to me…

    Trade off, and then take off, my being to be free…

    Phase 2, you show the cues, and then it will be…

    Finished

    Prologue:

    As the sun makes its final passage into the eastern horizon, I am slowly scanning the terrain for any slight movement. My eyes are unfocused, a result of years of training at The Factory, so as to catch any menial amount of movement present.  Sebastiaen, my brother and best friend, is slowly making his way into the compound. We haven't had contact with the rest of our team in forty-eight hours and I can tell that Bas is worried. Why shouldn't he be? I am just as worried. Zo, who hasn't been in the field since we thought that we had lost Shaun, was bringing himself out of semi-retirement, Katarasina, Bas' assistant who is secretly in love with the idea of fieldwork, and Bas is finally getting to show her stuff. And the two newest acquisitions to the team; Kaleo Kalani, the Hawaiian recruit just out of the factory, has yet to see this kind of action, and N’Kia, the rogue MI-6 agent brought in to fill in the holes left by Shaun and Nancy.

    I just wish we had ... a sound broke me out of my reminiscence, I turned to warn B and just as I started to give the signal a noxious gas erupted from the seemingly harmless sprinkler system. DAMN! We should have known D’kin’s security would be tighter than that. We have definitely allowed the emotion of the situation to cloud our judgment. That mistake may have very well cost us the mission and our lives. I watched from what seemed like another’s eyes as several heavily armed men burst forth from the surrounding foliage to take Bas' still form into the lower recesses of the compound. Then as I began losing consciousness I was taken back to how this all began...

    In everything I thought and everything I so believed...

    How, when and how did I end up so damn self-deceived?

    Maybe it’s through believing those so familiar masks that others wore...

    Maybe it was by not moving and working through the poisons stored...

    Maybe it was through and by not dealing with the sinister truth that lies...

    Deep within my being, the very which I, through flights of fancy and fantasy, have long denied...

    Hunch backed Romeo, I find myself to be the truest definition of...

    Always one with a quick joke and easy smile, yet possessing only a selfish kinda love...

    Never thinking much of others troubled beings, nor seeking the best of others first...

    I am honestly not the kind of man do others admire, and truly I see myself as the worst...

    I hope, dream, and pine away for that glorious second in the even much more glorious day...

    When all these troubling imperfections and in-humanistic ways cease to be, let alone even remain…

    A memory, a haunting, of all the regrets that I’ve come to so shamefully call my share, burden, and lot...

    For every day that I awaken I hope this’ll be the last one, for if it is to be, then let peace come to those I’ve wounded through knowing that these fallen bones now rot...

    I find myself lately to be as superficial, prejudiced, and arrogant as ever before...

    I find that I cannot even trust myself, nor believe in myself, to be honest with others, nor before the Lord...

    I find, that so often, that within my actions, words, and very being within...

    I am ashamed of the path I have taken. I am secretly shamed and burdened with sins...

    When others speak of me, they often say how such a good man that I am...

    But I must confess this shocking truth, I am not good, nor could I ever be, for in my flesh I am damned...

    For so many hearts and spirits I have wounded and broken, spoke lies in a perverse speech as to get my way...

    Guilt is a reminder of my secret shame, a cursed and wretched man I find myself increasing in being everyday...

    And every time I look into the all revealing mirror, bitter hate consumes my being...

    Thus increasing with every blink, for what I behold before me, seeing...

    Where then is…is…is…is…this…this...antidote, the cure, the panache... to this in-humanism I find so unrelenting....

    I hope and believe it is through Christ in me, and overcome through, daily, repenting...

    Lord, help me overcome this all and bring forth into being...

    The things you set forth within me, and speak over me that which you are seeing...

    Lord, you alone are my hope and very reason of being...

    Set me free from this carnal bondage and to be as you are breathing....

    ~from The Nursery Rhymes Of The Damned~

    Chapter 1

    It started off as just another day in my life.  You know, looking back on it; it hadn’t really started out too well. The day had begun pretty badly; I had been on a sabbatical of sorts for about two years. The last job that I had done had ended with a lot more bloodshed and loss than had been expected. I still shudder to think of what I had lost on that trip.

    The woman I had fell in lust with at the time had been killed, and although I had found out that she was on the wrong side of the equation her death had hit me pretty hard. My brother and his assistant had helped out but since it had been my call to accept the case the brunt of the blow was felt chiefly by me. 

    I should probably explain a few things here; one, my brother, his assistant and I are not what we seem, although my teammates and I seemed, to the outside world, to have normal thriving jobs. However, they were anything but that.

    We all had offices, which to the naked eye were just that. However, if you dug a little deeper you would see that we very rarely had clients, and that our businesses were all privately owned and operated by Select Corp. You see the jobs that we held were fronts.

    My family and I happen to be members of the Horsemen, the most elite covert ops team in our agency. This was an agency that was assembled by a tentative offshoot of the United World Government. Since each country the world has to offer were in some shape or form linked by many treaties and secret alliances, there was a need for a small faction that all the world leaders needed to answer to. So, came about the U.W.G. This group of women has truly run the world for years.

    Therefore, when the conspiracy theorists complain of an underground system, or my own people complain about The Man they actually were it. Don’t look so surprised; we all knew that women run things.  This of course is a way of life we have all come to accept.

    With our group, however, since we sometimes superseded the law, we couldn’t always be out in the open. Some of our missions are so dangerous that we have had to actually take on other government operatives, and thus incurred the wrath of other agencies. With the mandate that we followed it allowed for far more freedom with how we got things done, but it also made it impossible to have contact with the outside world.

    Outside of our various personas that we adhered to, we did not exist and only the select few that knew us from are previous lives even had a clue that we ever existed. No records of birth or death, no information on any of us anywhere. This made life very hard to live sometimes; in fact the last mission was so involved that after that we had been forced into semi-retirement while all the other agencies had been pacified. Because of this the team was taking a much-needed vacation.

    Sebastiaen, my brother was concentrating on his psychiatric practice, Alonzo was working on his computer networking system for Dime Piece Labs, and I was just finishing up my boards and getting ready to close my P.I. firm and open a less conspicuous Myotherapy clinic.  Of course none of which served any real purpose, but with the time on our hands it looked good to the watchers.

    I just stopped into my office to check my messages, after a pretty strenuous work out with my brother, and actually was just in the process of cleaning out my client files when; there was a soft knock on my door. In walked the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on. She was about 5'11", tall and built like a brick shit house. Although I have seen many beautiful black women, I had never seen one this lovely or troubled.

    I should have known then she was going to end my little vacation, but to tell you the truth I always was a sucker for a pretty face. Actually, the parts themselves were not spectacular, but the sum of the parts absolutely floored me. She had to be the most naturally beautiful women I had ever seen. However, as much as her looks astounded me, her presence in my office befuddled me.

    I don't really have clientele; you see my business is absolutely a facade. My employees, my partners and even my clients are all from the Agency, all for looks. I have never even stepped foot on the path to a true case. In our line of work, the less outside contact the better.  So, I was immediately on guard when her first words to me were.

    Cleaning lady is sick; the temp agency sent me to fill in.

    In a voice that was pure brown sugar, I knew that was false and I knew she wasn't with the job.

    So where do you want me to start?

    I had to approach this with caution; I didn't know who this woman was or why she was here. I tried to reply very nonchalantly,

    First off miss, you can start off by telling me why you are really here.

    I then added.

    Not to mention Miss Thang, how you found out about my services.

    I did my best to imitate the smile that had driven me wild a moment ago, and went on to say,

    You see the employees and I all handle the cleaning duties, and I have to my knowledge never used the services of a temp agency.

    This woman’s smile slowly faded and I watched as a myriad of emotions played over her coffee brown face. I knew then as she began to twist a curl, and look around the room never truly focusing on my eyes that she was about to lie. However, she actually seemed to stare through my head, an old trick but still used. So, I wasn’t surprised that a story was about to ensue.

    She then switched to a voice tone that was obviously designed to draw me in and let my guard down, complete with a slight southern lilt.

    Well sir, my name is Nicki Jackson and I need your help finding someone....

    I hurried and said.

    Ma’am I don't do missing persons or follow wayward spouses...

    She continued on and said.

    I need you to find my father. My father’s name is Kenji Koshgu.

    Why did that name seem so familiar? Koshgu was not a common name.  I would think of this when I had less pressing problems.

    Sir, I would never assume to have you work on something as frivolous as a wayward spouse but, my father is missing and my mother is frantically searching for him. I just didn't know where else to turn. As to how I found you, I did when I was tallying up my boss’s expense accounts and credit card slips. I came across several charges to Horsemen Investigative services. So, I came to you.

    That would have been touching, if I didn't know she was lying. Obviously by referring to a wayward spouse as frivolous, she was not in a relationship. Why did that make me excited? The problem deepened, just how much of this woman's story was true? How did she really come across my business location? We at the Agency had always been very careful to seem extremely busy, and since we never took outside clientele this was not going to be an easy answer. This was a problem in and of itself.

    I sat back as I stared at her fidgeting with her uniform. How did this woman come across what was always a very highly guarded confidential anonymity. Caught when I was actually switching faces was not only embarrassing, but it was dangerous. What was this leading too? I decided just then to take her to one of the agencies 'Safe Zones'. Since I actually hadn’t seen or heard of this woman’s employer, I had to get more information. There was definitely something about the whole scenario that smacked wrong.

    Well I was about to go and grab a quick bite, if you like you can join me and tell me about you father.

    I just want to thank you for …

    Hold on, I didn't say I would accept the job, but let's just say you've got my attention.

    Dinner would be nice then, where is this place?

    I gave her the address and told her to meet me at 8 o'clock. When she had left, I placed a call to Sebastiaen's office and Katarasina told me he was working out, and that she would make sure that he returned my call. While I waited, I up linked with the agency's extern net, and looked up Kenji Koshgu.

    What came back definitely gave me reason to doubt that Ms. Jackson had been straight with me. Her father was an ex-Japanese secret serviceman, an agent whose file was definitely very secretive. Kenji had been a sleeper there in the states, and had all but completely assimilated into American society. He let's see, became a U.S. citizen in '78. Met a South African emissary in '75 and married in ‘77. Koshgu was making a go of it outside his agency. He had made an attempt to live a life outside of the wet work he had known. Unfortunately the life doesn’t let go of you that easily.

    Already an accomplished bio-physicist, he went on to make a small wave in the computer industry when, he completed work on the first bio-chemical automatic pilot in '08. Apparently it was some bio-mechanical mind control device. Koshgu was relatively quiet for the next several years leading up to his disappearance 8 months ago. So, as you can see N’Kia’s story was mostly true, but had a few loopholes in it. I wonder though was she holding back information on purpose, or was she truly ignorant of her father’s dealings? I looked at the clock on the wall, and it was seven p.m. already! I had to hurry up and get ready to meet this girl.

    Just as I was stepping out of the shower the phone near my dresser rang. I moved to answer already knowing I was in for it.

    This is M’Kai.

    The voice of my brother answered,

    Kai, Katarasina told me you called earlier, what's up?

    I had a visitor at my office today, a possible client.

    I replied while drying off.

    A client? We're on vacation, why would someone send a client? Especially since The Agency specifically told you to switch up your office to Myotherapy?

    This is an off the street client.

    Kai, you don’t take off the street clientele, none of us do.

    Bas sounded slightly perturbed.

    I know that, but she showed up at my…

    She? 

    Sebastiaen asked suspiciously.

    Yeah she Bas, now hold on I know what you're thinking, I already checked her story and it has some holes in it, but is basically the truth.

    Kid, what the fuck are you thinking? You are not in the position to be taking any outside work! Hell kid, you can be disavowed for that!

    Sebastiaen can be the consummate older brother sometimes, but his heart is in the right place.

    Sebastiaen, I have never, nor am I planning on jeopardizing our well-being with the agency. I just have a feeling about this woman, and I am getting bored with the whole semi-retirement/vacation thing.

    I then went on to fill him in on both Nikki’s story as well as my suspicions. He promptly told me to watch out for myself, and to call him immediately should I needed anything. I assured him he was on speed dial and that I would stop over the following day for a complete run down of the evening.

    I stopped into Moji’s Sanctuary at about 7:45 PM and was greeted by the doorman who automatically pointed me toward the table in the rear. The microphones and surveillance equipment were cleverly concealed there. I took one look at my potential ‘client’ and damn near swallowed my gum.

    Nikki was an absolute vision in a shimmering blue evening gown that was somewhere between casual and classy. Definitely, this was not what you would wear to a business dinner. I was impressed, so I was glad I wore my black satin and Kevlar turtleneck sweater and gray utility slacks. You see even our clothes were designed for agents under the guise of an outrageously expensive designer label. I was pretty sure by the audible gasp I received that I had impressed as well.

    I sat down at the table and greeted Ms. Jackson (or should I say Koshgu? Well, she had introduced herself as Jackson so I will stick with that) with a handshake. After we shook our greetings I began noticing things, I noticed right away that her hands were slightly callused on her right index finger as well as her palm. I was also quite sure that the slight difference in her shoulder development showed that not only was she an experienced shot, but also a fighter. I noticed also in surveillance, by the way she continued to survey the surrounding area she was used to being on the Job. Sadly, Ms. Jackson had purposely taken the seat facing the door way.

    Well, with that I knew that she was definitely not all she seemed. In this life there are very rare times where we can relax. However, this was not one of these times, I watched her every move. My observations only lead to more questions. I sat back as we ordered dinner and she and I both ate light. We discussed the particulars of her father’s disappearance. When the waiter brought our check there was a coded message stating that the screening process was complete, and that if I wanted to I could see the results. She looked as if she wanted to grab it and even reached for it.

    Oh no Mrs. Jackson, I invited you so I will handle this.

    Ms. Jackson looked perplexed at first and opened her mouth to protest, but then she suddenly shut it and smiled. She was working something and I was perplexed to figure it out. If I wasn’t already tensed from the forced conversation I would have been put to repose by her smile alone.

    You are such a gentleman. I do appreciate the meal, but you understand that this is a business dinner, nothing more, correct?

    I saw then that she thought I was putting the moves on her. Unfortunately I was not that interested her, so I told her.

    No worries there, I am still smarting from the last girlfriend. We here in Jamaica have a certain way of treating women. I understand this was a business dinner. I paid because I can write it off. Will you excuse me please I have to go to the restroom.

    I then politely got myself to the rest room and knocked on the two-way mirror. I was given a voiceprint and retinal scan and the far stall receded to reveal a computer terminal and microphone. I sat down at the terminal and was given the not so surprising news that Nikki was not only an agent, but also one that had gone rogue! Apparently, she was sticking her nose were it shouldn't be, and her status was revoked by MI-6. So, the accent was not only faked, but it was meant to cover her British roots. I wasn't too disappointed, but I was curious as to just why a rogue British spy would be interested in me. So, I had the rest of the findings e-mailed to the computer terminal in my Denali. I went out to pay the check and dash Ms. Jackson’s hopes. When I returned to the table she was all business.

    Mr. Majora I do hope that you have sufficient information to begin with my case; I have every confidence that you will be able to find my father. Shall we discuss your fees and expenses?

    I tried to put on a regretful air.

    I am sorry to tell you this ma'am, but I am retiring from the business. I was only doing this to put myself through school. I have recently accepted a corporate massage job. So, by Monday I will have reopened my office as a Myotherapy clinic.

    I was actually sorry when I said that. I wanted to help this woman however; I had to remember that not only was my P.I. firm a front. But also that this woman had lied to me from the jump!

    I do wish you luck in your search, but like I said at the office I regrettably can't help you.

    At that point I stood to leave and my arm was suddenly gripped in an iron lock. When I looked into her hazel green eyes, I could see her anger and despair as she spoke slowly,

    I should hope you enjoyed dinner Mr. Majora, because the fact that you would be so lonely as to take advantage of a woman, who is clearly distraught over a lost parent, just for a date, is appalling!

    There was very little distress in her manner now.

    I had no intentions of using you for a date lady, to even suggest so is offensive. I am sorry about your father, but I just can’t do that kind of work anymore.

    I wasn’t sure, but I think I saw a hint of regret and hesitation in her eyes, before the wine hit mine. I stood and I heard her rush out the front door. I love wine but since hers was alcoholic, it burned like hell.

    I cleaned enough of the bitter stuff out of my eyes. I rushed to the front door just in time to see her striding out of it and heading towards the parking lot. I quickly followed her and just made it in time to see her jump into a sleek white SLK and speed off. I couldn’t help it I was curious to see where she was heading. I had to know how this woman had heard of me. There was no reason to rush however; I had the parking attendants place a homing device on her vehicle earlier. I had made sure that I had the evening fully planned out before I even arrived.

    I got into my car and decided the best way to approach the situation. I took a leisurely pace in my SUV as my computer ran down her credentials as well as her mission summaries. I followed her to a pretty spacious brownstone just outside of the city limits. According to her file, this was her mother’s home from when she had worked with the Agency in the 70’s. I had instant messaged Sebastiaen to follow my beacon signal, and he met me there. Sebastiaen soon let me know he was there, Just out of sight.

    I watched N’Kia (which turned out to be her real name) had not moved from her car. A quick thermal scan of her place revealed why, several men, most likely armed were scattered in strategic places throughout the house.  It looked like MI-6 had come to reclaim their lost sheep. I wasn't authorized to interfere with inter agency policy so I prepared to leave. Sebastiaen’s voice came over the speakers in the Denali.

    What’s the situation?

    It seems Sebastiaen had already pulled up in his pearl black Land Rover XLT, with custom plates and all. I swear that man was retarded sometimes, but he believed the best place to hide was out in the open. As large as we are there are very few places we can hide effectively.

    Situation seems to be a routine extraction and retrieval.

    I told him as Sebastiaen came to my position. He grunted and then asked me.

    Are we cleared for observation?

    Keeping the talk to a minimum I simply replied.

    Affirmative!

    I noticed as I looked at the body signals that something wasn't right here, there were too many bodies on the scan to suggest retrieval. There was little movement and they had not yet made an attempt to get her out of the vehicle. I wondered to myself if this was a retrieval mission, then what were they waiting for? I made these comments to Bas.

    I was wondering the same... hold on, getting a fax from home. Well so much for our vacation. We gonna have to accept this one.

    I should tell you that we have surgically implanted contacts that keep us in contact with the mainframe at base. It comes in handy a lot more than you would think. Sebastiaen then returned the confirmation through the implanted microphone. I love being a spy!

    Ok, it looks like we are being reinstated to full influence in the field. Your little girlfriend has just made the leap to our side of the law enforcement agenda. You remember the conversation I had with Murphy about that new crime syndicate?

    Yeah, the one discussion that was about the mysterious disappearances? Do you mean the vanishings with the backing of the D’kin organization behind them? Yeah I do, but why would she have anything to do with that?

    "Well it seems that she was making the jump to our side when she was popped at

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