February 16th – 10:15 A.M.
“Sir, this was just picked up from the Walker wiretap,” the agent said. He handed Ortega a printout.
“Phone numbers?”
“No sir, a page. This is the number she paged and the second number is the number she wanted called. It’s not the number we have under surveillance,” he explained.
“Is she still in New York?”
“Yes sir, staying at the W in Times Square.”
“Get in touch with the New York office ASAP. Tell them we need someone on the ground yesterday,” Ortega firmly instructed.
“Yes sir,” he said it so crisply that Ortega thought he was going to salute.
Ortega went into his office and gazed at the number as if it was some ancient riddle.
“What are we up to, Ms. Walker, and who will we find at the other end of the line?” he rhetorically asked himself, he had a good idea as to the answer.
Unbeknownst to Asia, as the logistics and needed manpower were being arranged, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the remote. She turned to CNN’s “Money Talk.” A crystal-like ring sounded from the nightstand. It was the prepaid cell she bought to call Marlon. She smiled and happily answered.
“That was an hour ago,” she said as soon as she answered.
“Good morning to you too,” he sleepily replied.
“Ew, you got the dragon, please talk away from the phone,” she joked.
Marlon responded by blowing on the phone as if it was a Breathalyzer test.
“You so common,” she giggled.
“Where you at?”
“Manhattan.”
“Okay, give me an hour and meet me at The Grey Dog Café onUniversity.”
“Cool,” Asia replied.
“See you then,” he said.
Marlon hung up the phone and looked at Hasana.
“Wifey?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
“So, I guess you gotta go.”
“Yeah, but not before you tell me what you talkin’ about,” Marlon replied. He figured that Malik had something on the side that involved her. Maybe the something on the side was where he could find his target, the informant.
“I got a brother; he a Crip. He’s in Hartford gettin’ money and need guns. Lots of ‘em,” she smiled, “Big guns.”
To Marlon, it sounded like a dead-end situation. The informant couldn’t be that far removed, or could he?
“When do I meet this brother?”
“What’s the point? He don’t know you and you don’t know him. You give me the guns, I give you the money,” she explained.
“Damn Ma, you were damn sure hidin’ a lot under that garment, huh?”
She laughed at his comment.
“I wasn’t always Muslim.”
He got up and headed for the bathroom.
“So what up,” she probed.
