Chapter 21

The following characters appear in this chapter:

Roberto

Black man, 6’-3’’ tall, 230 pounds, broad shoulders, long dreadlocks, 30 years old, a long scar on his left side of his face

Kevin Moreno

MS-13 leader, Hispanic, 5’-9’’ tall, a bit fat at 180 pounds, 32 years old, black hair, brown eyes, many tattoos

The three of us appeared in the men’s room of the General Aviation Terminal of Washington’s Reagan National Airport a second or so after casting the transport spell in Mom’s front yard. The three of us were: Dallas’ Husband, Steve, my Dad, Kennith Sweeney, and me, Craig Sweeney. Except for the three of us, the restroom was presently empty.

“We’ll need some transportation of our own,” Dad reminded us.

“Car rentals are on the first floor of the Terminal Garage A. There are a number of rental agencies,” Steve told us, before adding, “I looked it up.”

“Alright, let us proceed to the Terminal A garage,” Dad said.

“You do remember that this is a large airport, and the main terminal is quite some distance away,” I reminded him.

“Of course, Craig. We’ll do a few line-of-sight transfers rather than walk all of the way,” he told us. No one paid any attention to us when we left the men’s room and then the General Aviation Terminal. It was a bit cloudy in D.C. that day but still quite hot. It was easy to do the line-of-sight transfers at ground level, as most of the traffic was on the elevated roadways and couldn’t see us. There were few people visible among the buildings at ground level.

On reaching the Terminal A garage, we walked in the entrance which was automated and had no Human attendant. We then went down to the first floor, where Dad selected his favorite rental agency. I still had my fake ID as Richard Smart along with the credit card in that name, and rented a cross-over SUV for us. We then proceeded to the George Washington Parkway and U.S. 1 for the drive into D.C.

“Why did we appear there? We could have appeared in Lafayette Park just as easily,” Steve wondered as we drove.

“They may be monitoring that area since we used it a lot previously. The government has hired a number of additional Magic users lately. They even hired some from the Atlanta area,” Dad told him. “If they are checking the arrivals here at the main terminal or at Dulles, they won’t find anything,” he finished with a smile.

“That’s another thing. Why here? There are no international flights out of Reagan, so the Iranians have to be flying out of another airport,” Steve finished in a flustered voice.

“We came here because we knew the location, and the government isn’t likely to associate it with us,” Dad told him. “Besides, we needed transportation, which we wouldn’t have gotten at Lafayette Park,” he continued.

“Craig, check on when the Etihad Airlines flight to Abu Dhabi leaves Dulles International tonight. According to our informant, they will be traveling on Diplomatic passports,” Dad told me. I checked with my cell phone and learned when the flight departed.

“They are scheduled to leave at 11:15 tonight,” I told him.

“So, we need to have dealt with them by 7:00 tonight before they would leave for the airport,” Dad told us.

“And where do we look for them? D.C. is a big place with a lot of other towns around it in both Maryland and Virginia,” Steve asked.

“Our informant also mentioned that a certain Clicas (CLEE-cas) of MS-13 is collaborating with them to hide them while they wait for their flight. They are supposedly in the company of the leader of the D.C. MS-13 Clicas, one Kevin Moreno. We locate him, and we should have those we are looking for,” Dad told him.

“Just where do we find this Kevin Moreno?” I asked.

“I looked up MS-13 in D.C. last night on one of my breaks from interrogating the prisoners. Many of them tend to hang out in some of the old public housing neighborhoods in southeast D.C. across the Anacostia River. I looked up some of them also. They include Barry Farm, Potomac Gardens, and what is called ‘Simple City’ but is better known as Benning Terrace. These areas have all been at least partially rebuilt or renovated in the last twenty or so years. They and the area around them are still places where the poor and many immigrants live. Their population is heavily Black and Hispanic,” he told us.

“And how does this help us locate this guy Moreno?” Steve asked.

“Our informant didn’t know how to find the Iranians or Moreno, but he did mention a place to check to learn more. Near the Barry Farm development, there is a bar known as ‘the Wrench’ on MLK Junior Ave. where a number of people hang-out who know where to look. We’ll drop by there and ask,” Dad finished as we continued up Hwy 1 and eventually crossed the Potomac River and moved east on the multi lane freeways that go around D.C. in that area. We eventually crossed the Anacostia River and continued south on U.S. 295 to the Suitland Parkway exit where we could leave it and access MLK Junior Ave. A short search soon located ‘the Wrench’ just off of MLK.

“We’re actually going to park the car down here and leave it unattended?” Steve asked with a frown, looking around at the area we were in.

“Certainly,” Dad assured him. “Of course, we’ll ward it with our strongest wards first,” he added with a grin, as we walked toward the bar.

“You boys remain out here and let me handle this,” he told us, when we stopped outside of the bar.

“Dad! This is a pretty rough looking place. Maybe we should all go in together,” I told him.

“Don’t worry about it Son. I know just how to handle this,” he told me before casting a glamour around himself that made him look like a forty-year-old Clint Eastwood from the ‘Dirty Harry’ movies before he entered the bar.

Kennith Sweeney has the Narrative for a Time

Entering the building, I walked past a number of the customers to the end of the bar where no one was standing.

“Beer,” I said to the heavy set, middle aged, Black woman behind the bar. She looked at me and then at several of the other customers before bringing me a bottle of beer and opening it. I handed her a five.

“Keep the change,” I told her to a disgusted look, as I took a sip of the beer. It was cold.

“What you doing in here, White Boy?” a large black man demanded before I could take a second sip. He was easily 6’-3’’ tall, with long hair in dreadlocks down past his broad shoulders. He was dressed in faded jeans, work boots, and had on an open, sleeveless, leather vest. There was a long scar down the left side of his face.

“WE don’t allow no Aryan Brotherhood members in here,” he continued in an obviously upset voice. A shorter Hispanic man with tattoos moved up to speak to him.

“Do not fuck with this one, Roberto. I have a bad feeling about him. I think he is ‘El Diablo’, the Devil,” the Hispanic man warned him. I could tell that he had a very small Talent.

“You Hispanics are all too full of legends and ghosts,” the big man told the other one with a laugh before turning back to me.

“Why are you in here?” he demanded in an angry voice.

“I’m looking for Kevin Moreno and the Iranians that he is hiding,” I told him.

“Like hell you are, you’re a fucking Fed,” he screamed in anger, as he broke the beer bottle in his hand and charged toward me with it. Several others followed him. I merely smiled before instantly dropping the glamour and changing into my Dragon form at the twelve-foot-tall level, as that was all the ceiling allowed. Then reaching out, I swiped my right hand at him digging my claws into both sides of the leather vest he wore and scraping his chest with them to lift him up, one handed, off his feet in front of me like a child. He was totally shocked and surprised to suddenly be suspended in the air and staring into the eyes and the large, tooth lined mouth of a Red Dragon. The others in the bar were as shocked as he was and had backed up.

“Now, as to your assertions, little man. I am neither a member of the Aryan Brotherhood nor a Federal Agent. I am a Dragon,” I told him in a loud Dragon voice, as I breathed smoke in his face. “One of you is going to tell me where to find Kevin Moreno and the Iranian terrorists that he is hiding, or I will incinerate every one of you and burn down the surrounding area,” I told him and the others. This was when Craig and Steve stuck their heads in the door to see what was going on.

“Everything okay, Dad?” Craig asked before looking at what was going on.

“Oh shit?” both of them said on seeing me, and they also changed into their Dragon forms. We now had everyone trapped in the building.

“Everything is fine, Son. I’m just waiting for someone to tell me where that Moreno guy is. Then we can leave them here to enjoy their beer,” I told him with a Dragon smile. Roberto didn’t look well at all, neither did the others in the bar.

“You can probably find him in Simple City,” Roberto finally told me in a shaking voice.

“You mean in the Benning Terrace housing area near the corner of ‘G’ Street SE and 46th Street SE,” I told him to a shocked look from him.

“You know where it is?” he asked in surprise. I only smiled, which frightened him even more.

“Dragons know many things,” I told him as I lowered him to the ground before returning to my Human form. Craig and Steve did also before we three left, leaving those there still in shock. To ensure that no one called ahead to warn Moreno, we cast a Silence spell around the building.

“You know where we’re going?” Steve asked.

“I’m sure that we can find it,” I told him. “But not with the two of you dressed the way that you are. Create a glamour similar to mine,” I told them. Once suitably disguised, we returned to MLK Avenue to hail a taxi. One stopped for us shortly.

“Where to?” the Hispanic driver asked as we piled inside. There was a rosary and a picture of a saint hanging from his mirror.

“Simple City,” I told him from the back seat.

“I don’t think you want to go there, amigo. That’s MS-13 territory. Even I don’t go there,” the driver told us.

“Drive,” Steve told him from the front seat, holding what looked like a gun on him. The cabby blessed himself with the Sign of the Cross and pulled away from the curb. It was about three and a half miles through crowded streets to where we wanted to go. We had the driver let us out on Ridge Road about a half mile from Benning Terrace, aka Simple City. I had some advice for the others on the way.

“Remember, these people start recruiting kids in grade school. Any children, teens, or young adults that you see could be lookouts for the gang. It seems that everyone here from infants to grandparents has cell phones. They wouldn’t even need to speak into it, as they could send a text message to alert the rest of the gang. Suspect anyone that you see. We will need to split up, as a group of us would be a dead giveaway. Use the invisibility spell where you need to. We’ll be able to locate each other by our Talents, as there are few with any Talent in this area. We’ll meet on 46th Street,” I reminded Craig and Steve. We spread out after crossing Ridge Road taking ‘F’ Street and ‘G’ Street to move east toward 46th Street.

I was walking down ‘G’ Street still using my glamour of Dirty Harry and hadn’t gone a block even before I started seeing young teens on balconies and rooftops. I was sure that they all had cell phones. I just continued on but sent a quick text to Craig and Steve telling them to meet me at the restaurant in the strip mall off of 46th Street across from ‘F’ Street. I had seen it on the internet map of the area last night. I also told them to darken their complexion and their hair. I would meet them there by taking 46th Place SE and accessing the front of the restaurant. I also darkened my complexion and hair.

At the restaurant, the other two had ordered for us when I arrived, and we found a table near the back of the building. Craig cast a Silence spell around us so we could talk.

“Lord, they have watchers and sentries all over the place,” Craig said as we started to eat.

“They all have cell phones and some of them have guns. They don’t even try to hide them,” Steve added. “I checked out the Recreation Center. There were four teens, maybe 15 or 16 years old, there with AK-47s! Loaded AK-47s,” he continued in an unhappy voice.

“We’ll need to continue this using the Invisibility spell and not in these suits. It’s a good thing that we brought some extra clothing with us,” I told them.

“They’re back with the rental car,” Steve reminded me.

“We’ll transfer back there and change in one of the stores along MLK. It’s too hot here to work in these suits. We’ll also need to keep these glamours ready in case we need to do something when visible,” I told them. On finishing eating, we used the rest room, which was filthy, one at a time to transfer to the rental car and change clothes. On exiting the restaurant, we took 46th Place back to ‘G’ Street to continue our search for Moreno and the Iranians.

“We need to do this like Jorani and I did in Lhasa,” Craig told us as we moved down 46th Place toward ‘G’ Street.

“How was that?” Steve asked.

“We used the Invisibility spell to observe the food warehouse and other locations from as many sides as possible before taking action against them. Which we usually did at night. We won’t have that advantage here, as sundown, let alone darkness, won’t occur until well after we need to be finished. If we move slowly and transfer one at a time, the guards shouldn’t notice us even in broad daylight,” Craig told us.

“Okay, Son, lead on,” I told him just before we reached ‘G’ Street.

Craig has the Narrative Again

Turning on to ‘G’ Street, we walked the short distance to the corner of ‘G’ and 46th. We could see that the houses south of ‘G’ Street were ranches and not tall enough to give us a good view of the three-story buildings of Benning Terrace. However, the first building north of ‘G’ street next to the housing development was two stories, and would give us a reasonably good view of those buildings.

“Let’s transfer across 46 Street to that first building and check out the view from its roof,” I told Dad and Steve. We needed to transfer, as being Invisible, the traffic couldn’t see us and wouldn’t slow down.