Uprising - The Suspense Thriller Part 11

That's my boy all right, Raider decided with a touch of c.o.c.kiness. The only view he got was of a wall and some navy curtains, so he eased back a bita"making sure he couldn't be seena"and c.o.c.ked an ear toward the room.

"And you want this war televised on CNC?" asked Jasper. "Official channel of gay rage."

"If your network makes it an issue, the rest will have to follow."

"He's got you on that one," said Deon.

CNC, Raider thought. Jasper Hollinquest just bought this hotel. And owned CNC. White voice, proper speech, private suite. That rich guy, a f.a.g? What about the babe he's married to?

"So you two do it," Deon said, his tone brightening. "I'll just be the world's greatest basketball player, and maybe a hundred years after I die, everybody can discover that I was gay. That'll be my contribution to all this."

Oth.e.l.lo moved to the center of the room. "Meanwhile, how many boys who look up to you will bash a f.a.g? Besides, you're an important linka""

Who was the other voice, Raider wondered. Sounded like a homeboy, said something about playing ball. He strained to get a view, but could only see a sliver of a very tall black man's back.

"a"to Herman," Jasper said, finis.h.i.+ng Oth.e.l.lo's thought. "What do you want with him?"

"His head on a platter would be acceptable," Oth.e.l.lo said, then retreated just a bit. "He sets the tone for all the hatemongers. He needs to be dealt with. And I'd hate to see him cost you another couple billion."

Jasper eyed him knowingly, surprised but impressed Oth.e.l.lo had done his homework.

"What you two talking about?" asked Deon.

"Your buddy Senator Evil stands in the way of Jasper's conquest of the Belize coast." Oth.e.l.lo kept his eyes on Hollinquest.

"How do you plan to deal with him?" asked Jasper.

"You're the expert on that," Oth.e.l.lo said. "Or are the rumors about your nefarious dealings just a lot of smoke?"

Jasper looked him square in the eye. "I could have both you and Senator Evil erased before the next telecast of CNC: The World Today."

Oth.e.l.lo's expression was just as steely as the billionaire businessman's. "I just might call your bluff on one of those accounts,"

Deon started for the door. "Man, this s.h.i.+t is crazy. I got no time for this."

"Just hear me out." Oth.e.l.lo tried to grab his arm as he stormed past, but Deon jerked himself free and kept going. "Deon," Oth.e.l.lo pleaded. "Jasper?"

"Don't look at me."

"You're right, Deon, this is crazy," Oth.e.l.lo said. Deon grabbed the door k.n.o.b, but didn't turn it. "And I'll get out of both your lives for good if that's what you want. If you just give yourselves one minute to hear me out."

Impossible, thought Raider, so flabbergasted he almost said it aloud. The Deon Anthony? Gay? The D.A.? The all-time, all-star, all-scoring, all-dunking, all-world, greatest ever? Say it isn't so, can't be, not in this lifetime, not in this universe!

Deon held his ground at the door. Oth.e.l.lo didn't wait for the pendulum to swing the other way: "Just listen to this. If you want to leave then, so be it." He reached inside the brown bomber jacket he was wearing and pulled out several papers, then began reading without looking up: "March 2nd of this year: a gay man in Cincinnati gives a ride home to a fellow student at night school. When the gay man admits his s.e.xuality, the fellow student beats him, smashes his head against a tree and robs him. The attacker tells the victim, 'Now you know what I think of f.a.gs.'

"March 4th: a gay student at Florida State University reports getting threatening phone calls and messages slipped under his dorm room door, saying things like, 'Watch your step, c.o.c.ksucker' and 'All h.o.m.os must die.' Three days after filing the report, the student, a freshman, commits suicide by jumping off one of the school's buildings.

"Same day, March 4th, a gay bookstore in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, is bombed for the third time. The night watchman hired to protect the place, a straight man, is killed. The day before, the KKK held a parade in protest of the city's nondiscrimination ordinance.

"March 9th: a drag queen in Denver, Colorado, who is also a prost.i.tute, is beaten severely by three men who tell him, 'Next time, we slit your f.a.ggot throat.' The victim, who required reconstructive facial surgery, did not file a report because, after a previous a.s.sault, the police refused to take a statement and arrested him for soliciting."

"That's enough," Deon said, his voice quivering.

"March 16th: at a gay beach in East Hampton, New York, four pick-up trucks full of teenagers pull into the parking lot and block the exits. Over fifteen males armed with bats and crowbars jump out and shout to beach-goers, 'We're gonna kick some queer a.s.s.' Before anyone is attacked, police arrive and allow the teenagers to leave unarrested, unpunished."

"I heard about that," Jasper said softly.

"March 17th," Oth.e.l.lo went on, "a disabled gay man in San Diego reports being hara.s.sed for months by neighbors who shout 'f.u.c.king pervert' at him and threaten to burn down his house. Someone shot and killed both his dogs and the neighbors have thrown eggs and firecrackers at his house. His landlord is also trying to evict him without just cause. The man weighs a hundred and twelve pounds and is dying of AIDS."

"s.h.i.+t, man," Deon mumbled.

"March 18: a lesbian on the street in Chicago is hara.s.sed by two men who spit at her and tell her, 'You look like a man, take it like a man.' The victim runs into a store; the attackers follow and grab her by the throat. When the victim finally frees herself and runs behind the counter, the store owner refuses to call the police because she is a d.y.k.e. Same day: a gay man in Manhattan reports a series of phone calls from his lover's family who threaten to kill him if he visits his dying lover in the hospital. Same day," his eyes were beginning to water, the pages beginning to blur, "a gay bar owner in Seattle is found outside his bar in the morning, strangled by an electrical cord. A baseball bat is also found inserted in his blood-soaked a.n.u.sa""

"We get the point, Oth.e.l.lo," Jasper said soberly.

"Not if you don't join the revolution." Oth.e.l.lo's eyes remained fixed on the pages in front of him. Deon's head was buried in the door, his hand no longer on the k.n.o.b. Jasper had set his drink down and was staring out the window into the darkness.

Raider lay lifelessly in the duct, the chill of the cold air starting to get to him. He was reminded of Dartmouth and the night he beat the s.h.i.+t out of that guy who came on to him. For the first time ever, the incident was suddenly disturbing to him. But that was different, he told himself, not sure how or why.

"All these things happened in the last thirty-some days," said Oth.e.l.lo. "I didn't even get through all the list. And every thirty days, more violence just like this keeps happening over and over and over. Even if you aren't in the trenches of the war, surely you know someone affected by this kind of hate."

"I'm affected by this kind of hate," Deon said defensively, his voice thick with tears he was determined to choke back. Tears for J-Boya"his lover before Charliea"and how he had to die in such an inhumane way, alone and broke, exiled from the University of South Carolina graduation ceremony even though he'd spent three years of his life cheerleading his heart out for them. Exiled from Deon, who was too worried about his rep to see his dying lover.

"Those stats," Jasper began.

"Doc.u.mented," said Oth.e.l.lo. "If you want proofa""

"I don't need proof," Jasper said. The only proof of the wrath of the h.o.m.ophobe he needed was the crook in his nose, a permanent gift from the Puerto Ricans who terrorized the Ramble in Central Park during his years at Columbia. And yet he kept going back, because he hungered for male flesh and that was his only outlet. The PRs beat him half a dozen more times after that, once puncturing his lung and putting him in the hospital for two weeks. "Oth.e.l.lo's right, Deon. Hate is very much alive and well in the real world."

"Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Forcing you to come to the Temple. But I never imagined you'd be so resistanta""

"How would you feel if one of us had kidnapped you?" asked Jasper.

Oth.e.l.lo paused. "I guess none of us is used to others telling us what we can and cannot do."

"Not since I was about fourteen," said Deon.

"But can't you see my heart is in the right place?" Oth.e.l.lo moved toward Jasper. "And since you're used to having things your way, doesn't all this p.i.s.s you off? Don't you just...just wanna bust some heads sometimes?"

"That's what you want to do, isn't it?" Jasper said. "The money and CNC, that's all fine and good, but what you really want is to bust some heads, and I mean literally."

"I don't know," he said, purposely downplaying the strength of his conviction so as not to scare them off. The first priority was getting these two on board and giving them a taste of the power they could all possess. "Part of me says, 'h.e.l.l yes, bust heads.' Part of me says, 'Be civilized.' But one thing I'm sure of: the more I become involved with ACTNOW, the more I admire their will to fight."

"What are they capable of?" asked Deon, joining Jasper at the oak desk.

"I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"They involved in that Simi Valley mess?" asked Jasper.

Oth.e.l.lo bit his lip teasingly. "Do we have a revolution or not?"

"If we do this," said Jasper, "we vote on every single thing and I mean everything. And majority rules."

"Agreed."

"Wait a minute," cried Deon. "If we do what? What are we talking here, ACTNOW or setting up this trust?"

"First we make a commitment to band together," Oth.e.l.lo said, "and at least do the trust. Then, if we want to do more, say with ACTNOW or anybody, we figure it out and vote on it as we go."

"I would want to give money to every single minority hospice in this whole d.a.m.ned country," said Deon. "If we do this."

"Give me something hard to do." Oth.e.l.lo eyed Deon, then Jasper. "So are we in or are we in?"

Jasper ran his hands over his face as if to wash away some deeply-hidden pain. "Maybe this is our one chance to do something."

"Each of us," Oth.e.l.lo said, "with one vote, running the revolution from the Temple, like three wise men."

Jasper laughed skeptically. "You can't stop being dramatic for one half of one second, can you?"

"Call it my calling," Oth.e.l.lo said impishly.

So that was it, Raider thought with a sneer: Oth.e.l.lo wanted to be the headliner in the ACTNOW terrorist act with some pretty big named co-stars by his side.

Jasper and Deon searched each other for last minute objections. Receiving none, they both turned back to Oth.e.l.lo.

"In." Jasper extended his hand to shake, but Oth.e.l.lo turned to Deon, who sighed a big sigh, thought about it one last time, then also extended his hand and said: "Ditto."

Oth.e.l.lo grabbed both hands reaching out toward him and raised them in solidarity. "Then we've got ourselves a kick-a.s.s revolution."

They each broke into laughter that was part nervous, part triumphant, keeping it up until Deon withdrew his hand and glanced at his watch. "But we're going to have to fire the first shot later. I've got the Detroit Pistons to deal with in a matter of hours."

"Okay, okay," Oth.e.l.lo said excitedly, "but how can you think of basketball at a time like this?"

In a panic, Raider realized he had to get the h.e.l.l out of there and back to the garage before Oth.e.l.lo got there first and missed him. He reared himself up by the elbows, held his breath and began slithering backwards.

"The trust fund thing will be a snap," said Jasper. "I can get started on that tomorrow."

"We have to meet around my playoff schedule," said Deon.

"Ah, you won't get past the Knicks anyway," Jasper chided and the two of them traded barbs about the potential next-round match-up. As they did, Oth.e.l.lo regarded his partners and wondered if they thought he was off his rocker based on his actions of the past few weeks.

The last words Raider heard had to do with the Knicks and the Bulls. When he was far enough away to make noise, he picked up the pace, burrowing his way backwards through the duct.

"One more thing," Oth.e.l.lo began, nervous but urged on by an undefined force within. "So you'll understand why I've been a little crazed: the week we all met, I found out I'm positive."

The other two men were too shocked to speak. Was it the intimacy of the admission or the fact that this was news that would rock the world?

"I'm fine right now," he said, hoping to discourage morbid thoughts. "I'm telling you because, well, now you know how much closer to the trenches I feel."

Still nothing from Jasper or Deon. Both of them were seemingly waiting for the other to come up with the right thing to say.

"Anyway," Oth.e.l.lo said, writing the script for them. "It doesn't have to be a death sentence. And right now, I'm healthy."

"Yeah," Deon finally uttered. "You can be fine for years."

"Right," Jasper chorused.

"Exactly," chimed Oth.e.l.lo.

With elbows, knees, hands and feet, Raider tore through the duct, the sweat cascading down his forehead despite the tundra-like air.

Even with the awkwardness, Oth.e.l.lo felt a peculiar sense of relief letting this secret out of its cage to two other human beings. As an up-note, he added: "And I want to use those years realizing my potential as a gay man, speaking of which, I know you have to run and be Mr. Sports Legend, Deon, but can't we work out some of the details of trust fund before we go?"

Like a paratrooper returning to earth, Raider dropped down in the pitch black mini-boiler room in a not-so-smooth tuck and roll. Then, using his flashlight, he found the main light switch, flipped it on and began replacing the vent.

"So many logistics," said Jasper.

"The main thing is to kick in some cash to get the ball rolling," said Oth.e.l.lo. "Whatever your conscience tells you. Me, I want to start off with, say, half a mil."

His partners regarded him, impressed and surprised. Then they eyed each other.

"I'll match you," said Jasper.

Deon rolled his tongue around his cheek, his gaze traveling from Jasper to Oth.e.l.lo.

"Same."

With the vent replaced, Raider peeked out into the hallway, and seeing the coast was clear, crept outside. Three steps later, two blue suits appeared out of nowhere at either end of the hallway, heading straight for him. The security cameras had won this round of hide-and-seek.

"Partners at last," Oth.e.l.lo said in relief. "Life is gonna get good."

"At first, we'll have to find the groups ourselves," said Jasper. "Then CNC can do a piece, something like: the new ways nonprofit gay groups are seeking money in hard fund-raising times. We show our fund and the word will be out. And I have just the reporter to do it, my number one boy, Bruce." It came out sounding giddy, as if it were a blossoming romance or the first time Jasper had verbalized it to human ears. The latter was true, but Jasper was glad he said it. If Oth.e.l.lo was going to admit to having the virus, he could be open about having a steady.

"Bruce Jones?" Oth.e.l.lo exclaimed. "Jasper Hollinquest, you sly dog."

"He's a d.a.m.ned good reporter," Jasper said in his defense, relis.h.i.+ng the amused shock on the other two men's faces.

With hard faces and a couple of pieces hidden in holsters no doubt, the two blue suits closed in on Raider, looking as if they were taking no prisoners. Think, he commanded himself. You're smarter than these mugs.

"How about you, Deon?" Oth.e.l.lo asked. "Anyone special in your world?"

"Charlie. Eight years," he said with a proud smile. "Yourself?"

"Working on it." Oth.e.l.lo flashed a smug grin and the three of them looked at each other and snickered, dizzy with the idea that they were trading secrets The Enquirer would kill to possess....

"Mind telling us what you're doing coming out of there?" the older, taller blue suit asked Raider. Both men were within arms reach, handcuff or striking distance. Raider pointed to the door behind him, mumbling inaudibly.

To seal their alliance, Oth.e.l.lo, Jasper and Deon all shook hands, the atmosphere between them not entirely perfect, but a far cry from their previous meetings and that was good enough for now for Oth.e.l.lo. For added safety, they agreed to leave separately, and because of his game, Deon left first.