Agent M: Testament (The Agent M Series Book 2) (29 page)

A hand reached out and snatched the kid by the collar, sealing the remaining air in his lungs in an instant. He wheezed in defiance that sounded like a cat coughing. Michael dragged the kid back to a nearby alley and with one swift motion chucked his entire body a good fifteen feet down the street. The kid’s scrawny frame slammed into a metal dumpster with a colossal thud that seemed to echo into the streets and left a fairly impressive dent. All of the oxygen he was able to inhale during his flight quickly vacated his lungs as he desperately tried to absorb a few new delicious breaths back into his body.

Michael approached him slowly. During an interrogation, there was no greater weapon than intimidation. The kid continued to cough and pant. He probably had never experienced something that relentless of physically dominating before. He truly had no idea what he was in for. His battered brown eyes were still bright red from the previous night’s activities but as long as they functioned, Michael had everything he needed.

Like a demon dressed in black, Michael took careful and calculated steps. The so-called gangster was tiny, easily a foot shorter than him. The kid desperately trembled before this sight. It was as if his body would not listen to his mind’s frantic requests. As he frantically pulled himself off the ground, Michael’s hand clasped around his throat and slammed him back into the dumpster that had violently welcomed him just moments before. His eyes widened. The FBI agent dug his claw deep into the fragile and inked skin of the fallen gang member. He tried to plead, tried to beg but not so much as a molecule of air could escape. Death was staring him in the face and he couldn’t even raise a single hand in defiance.

“I’m looking for someone,” Michael spoke in Korean.

His words were coarse and rasp, like they had just risen from the bowels of hell.

“Ryoo Myung-Dae.”

The kid’s eyes shot wide. He frantically fought against the vice-like grip of this monster but to no avail. Michael pressed him down hard against the steel. That look the kid gave him was a clear indication that he knew something. This was a lucky break. Now all he had to do was squeeze the information out of him.

Michael lifted the kid into the air by the throat. He struggled for a bit. The FBI agent knew he had a few more seconds left before the gang member would pass out. Just before the blackness consumed his vision, the kid felt instant relief as he fell to the ground free from the monster’s grasp. He landed on his hands and knees coughing like a patient with chronic bronchitis. It took a few good moments for him to finally catch his breath. His eyes stared up at the giant in black once again.

“Ryoo Myung-Dae.”

“Go to hell!” The gang member shouted jumping up sending a flying haymaker into Michael’s unmoving jaw.

The clapping sound of bone and sinew erupted upon contact. They were immediately followed by tormenting and horribly painful cries. The kid fell to his knees clasping his newly damaged hand. It was starting to swell rapidly. He couldn’t move any of his fingers. The demon’s jaw was like punching a brick wall. Tears began to fill the wells of his eyes. He’d never felt such a horrible pain in all of his life. The physical trauma will eventually heal. The mental ones that last a lifetime.

The agony that was currently plaguing the gang member forced him to accept his current position. There was no use fighting it now. He was out of options. All he could do was bargain and pray.

“If you’re looking to score Longini I can get it for you, I swear!”

Longini?

Perhaps this kid was trying to pull a ruse. The cracking in his voice and desperation locked in his eyes told Michael he was telling the truth. Or, at the very least, he thought he was.

“What does that have to do with Ryoo Myung-Dae?”

“I can get you that stuff, I swear!” Replied the agitated kid.

The FBI agent’s words were lost in his desperate plea to stay alive.

“Answer me!” Michael shouted back through the cracks of his teeth.

“I don’t know the guys personally,” he pleaded holding back tears. “But I know of them. Ryoo used to run with the gang peddling this shit I was telling you about but no one’s seen him in months.”

Michael delivered a stiff kick to the kid’s ribs that sent him straight to his back. A heel dug into his exposed chest.

“I’m not looking for drugs. I’m looking for Ryoo –”

“They’ve gotta know!” He cried hoping his words would be begot sympathy from the demon. “He was the one who helped build up the gang over there.”

“Where?!” Michael hissed.

The kid screamed in agony once more as Michael applied more pressure to his fragile sternum. He coughed between syllables, desperately trying to formulate the one word that may perhaps save his life.

“Kyoto!”

This kid had some nerve promising his wares to a couple of established gang members in this part of town. He looked like he didn’t even have a roof over his head yet he was selling a drug that would essentially take over five hours by car to get to. This whole thing began to stink something foul. He may very well be sending this FBI agent on a wild goose chase. After all, the twelve or so hour round trip it would take for Michael to go to Kyoto would give this kid plenty of time to find himself a nifty place to hide. Michael couldn’t be bothered to search for one drugged out gang member just to settle a score. Besides, Kyoto was on his list of places to search so this tip did have some merit to it.

Michael slowly pulled his foot off of the kid’s chest. Just when he thought he finally found some relief, the same vicious hand found itself back around the gang member’s throat. Michael lifted him back onto his feet and dragged him out of the alleyway. He flexed his arm tight and launched the kid into the air towards the street. The gang member skidded and bounced against the asphalt as he rolled towards the large building next door. Michael briskly jogged over to where he finally came to a complete stop only a couple of feet away from the police officers.

“Hey!” One of the officers shouted. “What’s going on here?”

In order to pull this off, Michael had to ham it up a bit. He lifted his arms to show he had no ill intentions and then spoke in a calm manner, switching his speech to Japanese.

“My name is Michael Madison. I’m an American with the Federal Bureau of investigation. This man stole my wallet.”

The kid pulled himself up still wrecked with pain all over. He only caught the last bit of Michael’s words. Even though he wasn’t fluent in this language, he knew he was in trouble. The gang member desperately tried to form a sentence in his defense.

“That man lying. He me hurt!”

With his hands still raised, Michael motioned at the fallen gang member.

“Check his pockets. My ID badge should be in there.”

The officers complied with the suited man’s request. After all, they valued the words of a well-dressed man over those of a street punk. They kneeled down slowly and used hand gestures to tell the kid to empty his pockets. He nodded in compliance. As soon as his hand dug into one, his fingers graced something odd. Pulling it out revealed a thin, black leather wallet. The kid’s eyes blasted wide once more. He began yelling in his defense as the police officer snatched the wallet from his grasp. They opened it slowly and compared the image with the man in the black suit.

“Here you go sir,” said the officer handing him back his property.

They picked up the kid and placed him in handcuffs. He continued to cry foul but they couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

The plan went off without a hitch. Michael was able to sneak his wallet into the kid’s pants while he was dragging him across the street. The pain and mental trauma of the situation made it all that much easier. Being charged with theft would usually warrant about twenty-four hours of jail time. Stealing from a foreign federal agent was a much serious offense. This would guarantee the kid would be locked up without a phone call for at least a few days. Michael didn’t need this kid spreading the word that he hunting down his associates. Surprise was still a weapon he kept tucked into his arsenal. At least they’ll be able to make it to Kyoto before nightfall. If this new piece of information did not help him, at least he knew where to find the punk to exact his revenge should this entire trip be all for naught.

“Finished already?” A friend voice asked from behind Michael.

Davis had left the station and popularity behind and approached his companion with an unremarkable amount of calmness given the situation.

Michael gave him a quick glance and then tucked the wallet back into his jacket.

“We’re going to Kyoto.”

“Kyoto? What are we looking for there?”

“A drug called Longini. Associates of Ryoo Myung-Dae are known to peddle that stuff in that location.”

“Longini?” Davis pondered. “That’s an odd choice of name for a drug.”

Michael stared back at the young Paladin with an inquisitive glare. He didn’t even need to utter a single word to convey what he was going to ask next.

“Longini, or Saint Longinus as he is commonly known was the name of a Roman soldier during the time that Jesus Christ had lived on earth. He was the one who was condemned for stabbing the body of Christ with his spear during the crucifixion. Though he’s considered a saint now, his spear was thought to be a holy relic since having pierced Christ’s flesh.”

Though he didn’t want to admit it outright, Michael had a good resource at his disposal. Christian lore was not under his extensive list of academic achievements. He’d never even opened up a bible. Religion and Michael never seemed to get along. Davis’ sudden appearance in his life proved that. At least they had a new lead to follow. If Longini was making its rounds in Kyoto, Michael was determined to find it.

March 25th, 2013 6:11PM

Los Angeles, CA

The S.A.C. took a deep breath after gently placing the phone back on the receiver. Director Miller saw it fit to give his subordinate a severe ass-chewing given the current state of affairs. Agent Madison had not arrived in Washington as of yet and his whereabouts are currently unknown. Even if they were, when that man put his mind on something, the entire organization would be hard pressed to find him. After all, he did it once before.

Though he was ordered to putting Agent Madison on the top of his priority list, Adrian started to feel of the itch of insubordination crawling up the back of his head. It wasn’t as if he wanted to directly disobey an order but rather, he had something he needed to take care of first. Instead of worrying what he couldn’t do, the S.A.C. decided to focus on something where he could actually make a difference.

The list of Doctor Freak’s offenses was a lot smaller than Adrian originally thought. That could mean one of two things: he’s either really new or really good. Either way, Mark did a great job finding the goods on this kid. And that was the worst part of all. This notorious hacker entrusted with the economic welfare of a billionaire couldn’t even get into an R-rated movie without a parent being present. The aptitude kids have these days with computers still astounds the S.A.C. but this was actually a bit of good news.

Adult hackers didn’t sweat the law as much as children did. It would be much easier to coerce a child into offering their assistance. Adults normally wanted cash on top of their pardons. Kids would just be happy with being spared the mighty belt whip of the American legal system. They’ll have plenty of time to learn the ropes later but if they could pull one or two of these kids to the side of justice early then it would make the effort worth it.

Agent Fischer had forwarded this information to the judge just a few moments ago. He had wanted to call earlier and inform them it was coming but Director Miller had tied up his phone line for the better part of an hour. Luckily, Adrian was a master multitasker and was able to coordinate the update plan via email while still giving his superior his full attention.

Florida agents and their SWAT team unit was already on standby a block away from the kid’s house ready to move in when the word is given. Adrian didn’t really feel like taking another trip outside of the state but the Tampa field office was more than willing to offer their assistance on a potentially big case like this one. When you take down a multibillion dollar empire, you’d want to make sure your name is attached to the list of people responsible for bringing it to its knees. It will only serve to make each department look good and show synergy between the field offices.