Saharan Nights
Back In The Game.
The quickly melting ice cubes made a slight clinking noise as they were dropped into a small rocks glass. They cracked and clinked more, as they were followed by three fingers of a luke warm single malt scotch. The glass was then hoisted into the air lazily and to the short muzzle of a smiling Cheetah. The water stained glass of scotch didn't stand a chance, and was sucked down in it's enterity in a matter of seconds, ice cubes and all. The Cheetah smiled and refilled the glass with more ice cubes and scotch. He turned and looked around his hotel room through a pair of large mirrored aviator sunglasses. The hotel room was of a medium size, and decorated modestly with an assortment of cheap imitation African art and overall, had a very touristy kind of African theme to it. The Cheetah, standing at about 5'11" , fit into the theme quite well. Dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a simple black and tan button up hawaiian style shirt with palm tree motifs on it. The shirt was unbuttoned down the front exposing his thin but athletic frame. His oufit completed by a pair of blue flip-flops. And with all of these combined, he looked like quite the tourist. His gaze wandered to a large brown suitcase on the single bed in the room and then over to a set of double doors that one would assume, lead out to his balcony. Sipping on his drink, he wandered over to the two doors and with a turn of the door handles, swung them both open and stepped out onto the balconey. A hot breeze brushed through his short brown hair as he stepped out into the sweltering heat and looked up at the blistering noonday sun, hovering in a totally cloudless, aqua sky. He again sipped at his drink and breathed in deeply through his nostrils, looking out over the sprawl that was Strummsberg, South Africa. He peered over the balconey from the 10th floor of the Zaonoa Hotel at the crowded and busy streets far below.
"It's good to be home." He said to himself, taking another sip from his drink.
His ears twitched and he turned around as he heard the door to his room open. Sauntering back into his room, he spoke around an ice cube he had plucked from his drink and popped into his mouth.
"Excellent, I need more towels brought up and I'll need another bottle of Scotc-"
He stopped mid sentence and spit the ice cube out onto the floor. He raised an eyebrow at a black rhino, easily two feet taller than him and probably 3 feet wider, dressed in gray Strummsberg Police Officer BDU's, walking towards him through the open door.
"Can I help you wi- GAAAKK!"
His sentence was cut off as the rhino, without warning, lifted one of his massive arms and clamped a huge, vise-like hand around the Cheetah's throat. He was hoisted up off the ground and slammed him into the wall a few feet behind him, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. His sunglasses and drink clattered across the floor. In the blink of an eye, the rhino had produced a large, cleaver-like horn handled knife and held the blade against the underside of his chin. The rhino gritted his teeth and stared into his eyes with a seething hatred. The Cheetah smiled sheepishly and was able to choke out some words as he struggled to breathe.
"You... spilled my drink."
"It's okay, Sargent Oliver, put him down." Said a familiar voice from the doorway.
The Rhino sneered and let go of the Cheetah, who fell to the floor gasping for air. The Cheetah panted and motioned at his sunglasses, which were on the floor a few feet away, next to the rhino.
"Hey, could you hand me my glasses, Officer?"
The rhino lifted a large boot and stomped on the pair of sunglasses hard enough to make the floor shake slightly and then kicked the smashed bits at him. The Cheetah sighed unhappily.
"Aww... Why'd you do that? Those were expensive."
The rhino said nothing and turned and tore open the suitcase lying on the bed and starting searching through it not too gently, throwing the Cheetahs things all about.
"Oh come on. Do you really have to do that?" The Cheetah lamented.
"I'd quit your talking if I were you. Sargent Oliver came here with the intention of removing your head from your body and ending your miserable life. I suggest you not make me change my mind about stopping him."
The Cheetah slowly stood up and brushed some dirt from his shirt and smiled, looking up. His gaze fell upon a frowning lion. The lion's sandy brown mane was corded into thick, tight dreadlocks. He stood roughly about the same height as the Cheetah but with a much more solid and muscular build. He wore the same gray colored Strummsberg Police officer uniform as the Rhino, with the exception of a few extra badges and medals and a silver epilet on one shoulder. On his head, he wore the bright orange Beret of a Strummsberg Police Commissioner.
"Namadasi, it's good to see you too." The Cheetah said insincerely.
The lion narrowed his eyes at the Cheetah and crossed his arms.
"That's COMMISSIONER Namadasi to you." The lion snarled.
The Cheetah took an expression of mock surprize and held his hands up.
"Oh! My mistake. COMMISSIONER Namadasi, That's quite a step up from your former postition as secret police for the late Mayor Gabarielle. The new Mayor must really like you. But if you'll excuse me, I need to get settled in, as I just got home and would really like to relax."
Namadasi smiled slightly and then took a fast step forward and with lightening speed, hammered his right fist into the Cheetah's stomach who instantly collapsed, gasping for air. Namadasi yelled down at him, and proceded to kick him a few times to emphasize each sentence.
"This is NOT your home Kyle Roland!!! You may have been born here but your family was from Denmark!! This is NOT your country!!!! And we don't want you here, war dog!!! Your kind is NOT welcome here!!!"
Namadasi stopped as the Rhino held up a rubber banded stack of 8 passports he had found in Kyle's luggage.
"Look what we have here, Commissioner Namadasi." Said the rhino.
Namadasi looked at the Passports and then down at Kyle.
"Still up to the same old shit Kyle, I could throw you in the darkest hole in Strummsberg Prison and make sure that it is YEARS before you even go to trial for those Passports. But, I'm not like you, no. I am not scum like you. I actually have a conscience, so I'll make you a deal. I'll give you 12 hours to get your filthy hide out of Strummsberg. And it'd be wise for you to leave South Africa all together. And so help me God, if you ever come back here, war dog... Sergent Oliver would like nothing more than to drag your sorry ass behind a Jeep until you're dead. And I think I would let him have his wish."
Namadasi reached down and hefted Kyle to his feet. And shoved him roughly into a wicker chair in the corner of the room. Kyle swayed in the chair slightly and reached and touched his busted lip that was now dripping blood down his chin. He smiled wryly.
"So, Namada-... Sorry, COMMISSIONER Namadasi, before you go, I'm just curious. How'd you even know I was in the country?"
"You have 12 hours Kyle. And I am dead serious. Do not test me." Namadasi said as he turned and walked towards the door. The Rhino glared hatefully at Kyle and exited the room. Namadasi stood in the doorway and looked back at Kyle.
"Not that it matters, but I knew you were in the country after my security personel at the Airport informed me that your friend, Offer Yitzchak, had passed through customs. He would have no reason to come to South Africa unless you were here. I suggest you tell him that he should leave as well, I hate him ALMOST as much as I hate you."
Kyle nodded and chuckled. "Well, you have yourself a fine afternoon. I hope that your new position as a Johnny Law helps you clear your conscience of those folks you tortured and murdered when you were one of Gabarielle's Secret Police."
Namadasi spun quickly.
"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Namadasi growled as he quickly closed the distance between them.
Kyle knew what was coming, and smiled.
"Nope."
He managed say, a split second before Namadasi's anvil of a fist connected with the side of his face. There was a flash and then everything went dark.
"Kyle? Kyle? You alright?"
A voice slowly drifted in through the blackness. Far off, but starting to get louder.
"Kyle? Earth to Kyle. Wake up!"
Kyle slowly opened his eyes. He began to realize that he was lying on the floor as the darkness started to lift and he was able to see. Standing over him was a tall Spotted Hyena in a brown button up short sleeve shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The Hyena nudged Kyle in the head with one of the large brown hiking boots he wore.
"Lemme guess, Namadasi beat you up? Huh?" Asked the Hyena.
Kyle smiled up at the Hyena.
"Hey Offer. Nah, I got hit by a car."
The Hyena cocked an eye brow.
"Got hit by a car in your hotel room, eh? Damn, he must've hit you in the head pretty hard. You haven't called me by my real name since Thailand."
Kyle started to get up.
"Sorry Crab, it won't happen again."
He grinned and then winced in pain as he got to his feet.
The Hyena sighed.
"Yeah, I should've known that wouldn't last long."
Kyle laughed and slowly walked over towards the bathroom.
"So, Crab, what brings you to South Africa? I thought you were busy in Syria working for the IDF?"
Crab laughed.
"That was six months ago. I've been on vacation since then. And then I hear that your spotty ass is getting back in the game and was doing some work in your home country no less. Considering I haven't seen you in almost a year, I couldn't have you going and having fun without me. Besides, I could always use the money."
Kyle entered the bathroom and proceeded to take the lid off the tank on the back of the toilet and reach his hand into the water. He yelled back to Crab as he fished around in the toilet tank.
"Oh?? So now you think you're working with me again? AND getting a cut???? That's pretty ballsy, Crab."
Crab was in the process of pouring himself a scotch from the bottle on the dresser.
"Oh come on Kyle, don't do me like that, man. You know you need me around to watch your ass."
Kyle came out the bath room carrying a wet black plastic bag he was in the process of tearing open.
"Catch!"
Kyle tore the bag open, producing two handguns from the bag, a Glock 19 and a nickel plated Beretta 92. He then threw the Glock 19 to Crab.
Crab grabbed it out of the air with and examined it, laughing.
"Haha, how'd you know I was coming, you son of a bitch?"
Kyle smiled and loaded a fresh mag into his pistol, and racked the slide, loading a round into the chamber and tucking it in a small concealed waistband holster in the back of his shorts and pulled his shirt down over it.
Crab shook his head and smiled.
"Damn, you're still carrying that piece of shit Beretta. I don't know why you've held onto that thing all these years. That damn thing almost got you killed last time."
Kyle smiled sheepishly.
"It's got sentimental value, and that time was just a fluke, a one in a million."
Crab gave him a confused look.
"Sentimental value? You stole it from a police officer in Cairo. And that wasn't just a fluke, the damn thing almost got you killed in Thailand, too!"
Kyle rubbed his temples.
"Okay, so two times, no big deal."
Crab smirked and stuck his pistol in the back waistband of his jeans.
"The third time's a charm, man. You should get something more reliable. I don't want a have to bury you anytime soon."
Kyle laughed.
"Ninety-nine lives man, I am invincible."
"It's nine lives, dipshit. And I guarantee you've already used all of them up in the 10 years I've known you."
Kyle went over and started digging through his ransacked luggage until he found what he was looking for, a large pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses identical to the ones that the Rhino had smashed. He put them on and looked down at his watch. He smiled at Crab and started walking towards the door of his room.
"Time to go, We got a meeting to get to."
Crab pointed at Kyle's feet.
"You're wearing flip-flops, man. Aren't you gonna put on some real shoes?"
Kyle looked down at his blue flip-flops, wiggled his toes, and then looked back at Crab and shrugged.
"Nope. Let's go."
Crab sighed and followed Kyle out the door into the hallway.
Unfortunate Circumstances.
Crab and Kyle stood side by side, looking at the double brass doors of the elevator as they slowly descended to the hotel lobby.
Crab smirked and glanced over at Kyle.
"So what have you gotten me into? How many laws are we gonna break this time?"
Kyle smiled innocently.
"Me? Break laws? Never! We're just going to deliver a truck full of peanuts to a grocery store. Simple."
Crab sighed.
"What's in the truck?"
"Peanuts. I just told you that."
Ding! The doors slowly opened. Kyle stepped off the elevator and started walking across the marble floor of the hotel lobby, Crab right behind him.
"Seriously, what's in the fucking truck Kyle?"
The Cheetah, grinning nonchalantly, spoke to Crab without looking at him as he pushed open the glass double doors and out onto the busy street.
"What truck? I didn't say anything about a truck. You really need to learn to pay attention Crab."
Crab rolled his eyes.
"You have the weirdest sense of humor, Kyle. But seriously, stop being a schmuck. Where are we going?"
He pushed his way through the crowded sidewalk to a long line of cabs and approached one. The Cab driver was a short grey leopard with fading black spots. He was dressed in white pants and a brown jacket. He wore a tan, tightly wrapped turban of a Sikh on his head. He smiled at the two and opened the back door of the cab for them. Kyle got into the cramped back seat of the cab followed by Crab, who was still inquiring about the job and the truck. The Sikh leopard ran around the cab and hopped into the drivers seat and pulled out quickly into the crowded, narrow street. Kyle asked the driver, in French, to take them to the Vithari Meat Packing Plant. The cab driver nodded and then turned up the car radio, which was playing some Indian pop music. Kyle tilted his sunglasses down and looked over at Crab.
"You said something?"
"I understand that you're always two steps ahead of me Kyle, but in a professional relationship, you should let your partner know what's going on. So, if at some point, he doesn't get startled, and accidently shoot you in the face. So you're going to tell me, who the client is, where we're going, and what's in the damn truck we're moving."
Crab noticed the cab driver look up at him in the rear view mirror. Crab looked back at him in the mirror, rolled his eyes, and then reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and took out a folded US $50 bill and dropped it on the front seat next to the cab driver.
"And you don't understand a single word we're saying, do you?"
The leopard smiled widely, which showed off the fact that all of his top teeth were gold. He picked up the $50 bill and quickly put it in his pocket and then reached up and turned off the cab's meter. He spoke with a slight Indian accent.
"No sir, I don't understand a thing you're saying."
Crab smiled.
"Good, I'm glad we have an understanding. Because if I find out that we don't, I will find you and make you eat your turban. Got me?"
The smile quickly faded from the Leopards face and he looked quickly back to the road.
"Yes sir, completly understood."
Kyle shook his head slowly.
"And there you go. Why do you always have to be like this?"
Crab shot him a glare.
"What? Me? What are you talking about? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Kyle nodded.
"Yes you, you're always so negative. And now you're being mean to our Sikh friend here. Don't worry, he's just kidding, he won't hurt you, he's just in a bad mood."
"I AM NOT IN A BAD MOOD!!!!"
"See? Now you're yelling and getting all meshuggah. It's not good for your blood pressure, you know."
Crab slumped his head backwards against the seat.
"I'm gonna punch you right in the face, Kyle."
Kyle grinned.
"Just make sure you don't hit me in a spot where Namadasi already hit me, it's still pretty tender."
The Sikh leopard looked back at them in the mirror with a very confused look on his face.
"You two sound like an old married couple."
Crab sighed.
"Remember what I said about minding your own business?"
The Leopard looked quickly back to the road.
Kyle looked out the window at the rows of merchant stands on the packed sidewalks.
"How far are we from the meat packing plant?"
The leopard responded without looking up.
"About a block and a half, sir."
Kyle learned up, tapped the leopard on the shoulder and dropped a $50 on the seat.
"You can let us out here."
The driver nodded and stopped the car suddenly, causing the driver behind them to slam on his brakes. He honked his horn at them angerly, waving an obscenity at them out his window. Kyle exited the car, followed closely by Crab.
It was about 2pm in the afternoon as the pair made their way slowly through the busseling crowds that filled the sidewalks of downtown Strummsberg. Kyle looked up at the sun.
"Damn, it must be almost 100 degrees out. Who would put a meat packing plant here?"
As they walked, Crab pointed to some assorted trinkets being sold by a random vendor. He smiled widely and spoke quietly through his teeth.
"Got a tail, buddy. White ball hat, sunglasses, tan slacks and blue button up short sleeve. On us since the hotel."
Kyle instantly whipped around and began very conspiciously scanning the crowd.
"Who? Where? Oh, that Ferret right there?"
Kyle asked and pointed at the one Crab had been talking about. The person in question was a sable Ferret standing at about 6 foot even. He stopped for a split second when Kyle pointed at him, but then pulled his white baseball hat down and quickly began walking off into the crowd. Crab sighed and punched Kyle in the shoulder.
"Real fucking subtle, you idiot."
Kyle began walking after the Ferret.
"That's the idea, Let's go with the Rhodesian Checkpoint play. Set, and hike!"
Kyle quickly made his way through the crowded streets, trying to close the distance between him and the fleeing Ferret. The Ferret quickly glanced back and upon seeing Kyle following him, suddenly exploded with a burst of speed. Shoving several people to the ground, the Ferret set off at a full sprint down an alley way. Kyle quickly hurdled the people on the ground and gave chase. Fast twists and turns of the tight alleys of Strummsberg whipped past Kyle as he pursued his quarry. Being a Cheetah, Kyle was quite fast but this Ferret was putting Kyle through his paces. This guy was moving with the speed and agility of a professional athlete. Looking back for a split second, the Ferret grinned slightly as Kyle began falling behind. He looked back just in the nick of time to see Crab step out from a doorway in front of him and extend his arm. A split second later the Ferret's face collided with Crab's outstretched forearm, doing a single backflip from the sheer force the impact. A loud thud resounded as his unconscious body hit the ground. Kyle walked up slowly, panting loudly.
"Ughh.. Jesus.. Crab, I wanted you to catch him. Not clothesline his head off. Shit."
Crab kneeled down and began patting the Ferret down.
"Details, details... Help me search him, see if we can find out who he is."
Crab rolled the unconscious Ferret over pulled a handgun from a waistband holster. He examined the gun and then stuck it in his pants under his shirt and continued searching his pockets.
"Got a gun, Sig Sauer 228. Not a cheap gun. Huh, this is weird..."
"What is?"
Asked Kyle, peering around a corner and keeping lookout.
"This guy has no ID on him at all. Looks like he cut the labels off his clothes too... It's strange thing to... A-ha! Got a hotel room key. He's staying at the Marimara hotel, H14. Here, help me get him up, we're gonna carry our very drunk friend here back to his hotel room."
"Good thinking."
Kyle grinned widely.
The Ferret groaned slightly. He felt like a bomb had gone off inside his head. He sniffled lightly and tryed to bring his hands up to rub his aching head. But suddenly realized he couldn't move his hands. Or his feet or anything for that matter. The world slowly started to come back into focus. He blinked away the fog and after a few seconds he was staring at Kyle's grinning face.
"Hey sleepy head, good you're back with us. Although, probably not good for you."
The Ferret looked around in a panic, realizing that he was in his hotel room, and quite securely tied to a chair with zip ties. Kyle sat in another chair a few feet in front of him. He could hear the large Hyena in the seperate bedroom, ransacking it.
"You two are making a serious mistake. You need to let me go IMMEDIATELY."
Kyle chuckled and smiled widely.
"Ah, so you speak English, good to know. Anyways, I'm kind of curious who you are and why you were following us. So I'm gonna get to the bottom of that. With your help of course. But, you see, that can be done one of two ways. An easy way, and an unpleasent way. But you're gonna have to pick one of those ways."
The Ferret narrowed his eyes and smirked.
"You have no idea how deep the shit is you're getting into, so untie me. Besides, there's nothing you can do to me to make me tell you anything right now, it's probably not safe to talk here."
Kyle leaned back in his seat and laughed.
"You know, heh, Bro. I really don't have time for the tough guy thing. I'm late to a job because of you, ya know that?"
Kyle reached into his waistband drew his Beretta 92. Sliding his chair closer to the Ferret, he nonchalantly cocked the gun's hammer back and then pressed the barrel against the Ferret's crotch. The Ferret's eyes went wide as he looked down at the gun and then back up to Kyle.
Kyle laughed and shook his head. "You know... I shot a guy's Johnson off once. No joke, totally true story. I'll have to tell you about it sometime."
"Ooooh shit..." Crab said from the other room.
"You find something, Crab?" Kyle yelled to him.
Crab walked back out into the main part of the hotel room.
"Untie him Kyle. We've got a problem."
Kyle cocked and eyebrow. "What? What are you talking about?"
Crab shook his head and threw a leather ID wallet to him.
"I found that hidden in his suitcase. He's a fuckin' spook."
Kyle caught the ID wallet and opened it quickly. "What?"
His smile faded quickly as he looked over the large Government ID contained inside.
"Special Agent Christopher Musgrave... United States Central Intelligence Agency... Ahhh fuck me..."
The Ferret sighed.
"Would you untie me now? You're both in quite a bit of trouble..."
