Brace yourselves, readers for choppy waters...both in Rapata's relationship and among their friends and other federal colleagues, including Jake Keaton.
I suggest visiting 'And Now You DIE!', my other story- the two are sort of parallels of each other-very similar, with slightly different timelines, and some different perspectives.
Newly-released from State prison, criminal LEXOR ROY lurks outside Zapata and Reade's building-uninvited and UN-WANTED...
Natasha Zapata approaches the building where she and Edgar Reade make their home, reaching for her keys before she abruptly recognizes a tall, olive-skinned behemoth of a man she's not seen or thought of in years: LEXOR ROY. A rush of memories, not all positive, flood back into her mind. After departing for the CIA, she'd met and had a fling with (if 18 months can be defined as 'fling') the good-looking, highly-skilled MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) combatant, which ended in a jail term for Roy.
She continues on cautiously, sliding her hand closer to the holstered SIG SAUER 40 cal pistol she carries butt-first at her side. She stops a few feet away from him before speaking. " JESUS, Lexor!- When were you released ?!"
"Week ago. Looking good, CIA-REAL GOOD. Speaking of RELEASE..." he cups his groin suggestively.
Zapata ignores the crude gesture, refusing to allow herself to be baited.
"Prison agreed with you. I need to go." She doesn't move though, waiting for him to take the hint and depart.
"So...I'm 'ghosted', that's it?"
"Lex...we're not doing this again; PLEASE. I'm worn out, and I need to get upstairs."
"When then? Meet me an hour-wherever you say."
"NO."
"You're not in your old place- I went by there. You moved out six months ago. My P.I. tracked you here."
(Shakira's "Estoy Aqui", Zapata's ringtone, sounds in her jacket pocket, and she refuses the call by touch-it's probably Reade, and she'll be home in a few more minutes, anyway)..."YOUR P.I.??! Lexor -you HAVE TO stop this. I've erased our time together from my memory. All of the 'good' times' that you remember, were actually, in many ways- IN MANY, MANY WAYS- NOT so good for ME. We left it how we left it, and now we're HERE. I have to tell you, though: I can't talk to you, not after what you did. Whatever surveillance you have on me-END IT...I'm CIA, and my Man is FBI. Don't come around here again. He wouldn't like it, and neither do I. Real talk."
"What's your hurry? You're awfully anxious to get upstairs."
"Ask your P.I. Now you'll have to excuse me- I need to get home."
"Estoy Aqui" sounds again, and this time she answers: it's Reade...
"Hey...si...uh-huh...I'll be up in ten. No-*un conocido que me encontro en la calle...Si...diez*. Bye."
Lex bristles. The tone in her voice when she said "hey" and "bye" is unmistakably that tone that lovers use when speaking to each other...the same tone the two of THEM had used during their nearly two-year involvement.
"Who's that!?", he barks, *QUIEN ES!?*", and Tasha braces herself for a possible verbal tirade (and perhaps a PHYSICAL attack). Tasha flips back the long overcoat she wears and places a hand on her sidearm. Her voice is cold- like ICE. "DON'T". As baldly as that. DON'T.
She adds: "I never pull my weapon unless I intend to fire it. FIREARM. That's its purpose and the reason that I carry it. Flinch, pass wind, or shiver in a cold breeze, and I'll award you some .40 cal bling. Now...you're out, you're free...MOVE ON, Lex. I HAVE ."
His response is a scornful sneer...but he doesn't flinch, pass wind, or shiver. His eyes narrowed and she knew (from past experience) that an attack was imminent. Reaching across her waist she pulled her pistol and 'sighted' on her former lover, finger inside the trigger guard. "'l'll. Kill.You.Roy...or maybe sink you into a BLACK SITE where not even the Albanian mob can find you. Choose ONE, or Choose TWO...hmmm...what do YOU THINK, Lexor Roy?"
"YEAH...well...it's in your 'best interest' to call me at this number (he's cupped a laminated business card in his other hand, which he casually flipped at the CIA Agent's feet.) I'd do it by NOON...NOON, Tasha. Lex Roy turned on his heel and sauntered away, his derisive laughter roiling through the semi-empty streets. As he lifted his left foot to take a step, a spark lit between his legs, and what he recognized as a RICOCHET whined when he dived to his left; another round punctured a metal trash bin next to his head, spurring him to tuck 'n roll across the concrete sidewalk. "Fuckin' BITCH!!" he growled and his own hand snaked around to his lower back: "Do it!" Tasha whispered her pistol's sight squarely on his face. His scared lip curled up in a sneer, and then the middle fingers of both hands shot up as he backed away.
Shirtless and shoeless, Reade ran out (his own pistol in hand) just before Zapata reached the automatic glass doors on full alert..."What the FUCK, Zapata?! I heard a shot.""
"Mugger," she replied with a shrug. "C'mon, let's go up...la Nena ?" [the baby].
The slightest mention of the daughter they share made Reade grin like a crazy man. "Yelling 'Weed' every few minutes, issuing orders."
"Awww--que LINDA!" [that's the ciutest] Tasha said happily.
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They spend some with their baby- Natalia aka NAT- they put her to bed and share a beer in the living room. Edgar says "I get the feeling that you knew your mugger, Mi'ja."
Sighing, Tasha replies "The person that I ran into on the street- during the time that we were away from each other for that 18 months; I was involved with him. Undercover involved ...His name's Lexor Roy- his ring name is Lex Roy. He had a five-year stretch for felony assault: he attacked me after I was 'blown'.He was 'streeted' a few months ago, from Otisville. Here's the fucked-up part- he bid it down from AG assault ...8 to 10. The Director at the time felt it in the 'best interest of the agency', unquote to let him plead."
"Cock-sucker. That wasn't his call."
"READE...you know how it works."
was there because of ME, though not as part of the CIA looky-loo-AG Domestic Assault." she looks at her feet, shifting uncomfortably in
