Uprising - The Suspense Thriller Part 12

"We could detain you for trespa.s.sing, rock star friend or not," said the junior partner.

Raider let out an exasperated sigh. "Relax, boys. I'm sure," he said like a Valley Girl. He then launched into a series of feminine gestures: hands on hips, flipping of the wrists, a mawkish facial expression. "I had to find a place to take care of...of...you know." He shrugged one shoulder, all girlish, and nudged the senior partner in the arm. "With all you big boys down in that garage, a fella's bound to get a little excited." He fanned his face and added a lisp for good measure.

"You still haven't answered our question," said the confused junior partner.

Raider folded his arms and pursed his lips in frustration. "You want me to spell it out for you? Tell you I went in there to whack off? To beat my meat? To pull my pud? To shoot a big wad of j.i.s.m dreaming about all you mens in uniform?"

"Sir, please." The senior partner reacted as nervously as Raider might have a few weeks ago.

"Well, there you have it," Raider cried, sensing victory and reveling in it. "You can go in there and see all the j.i.z.z for yourself. Right back overa""

"Sweet Jesus," the junior partner wailed.

"Oh, yes, girlfriends," Raider said. "I shoot big loads, big, big, big loads. Loads that end droughts and famine, especially when I'm thinking about hunky hunks like you and you, the two of you, you two."

The senior partner was too disgusted to look at him. "Just get the h.e.l.l out of here."

"Fine, if you're going to have that kind of a b.i.t.c.hy att.i.tude." Slipping out from under them, Raider placed his hands on his hips and began a seductive strut down the hall, like Bacall or Bergman from some '40s movie. Waiting for the elevator, he leered back at them several times with disdainful eyes. Then, just before disappearing into the elevator car, he ran his hand through his hair and gave them one last sa.s.sy flip of his head. When the doors were closed behind him, he doubled over in hysterics.

Jasper was staying the night in the Palace, so Oth.e.l.lo was the next to leave the Royal Suite. High on success, he walked swiftly to the private elevator, eager to celebrate with his man from Nantucket.

Raider's elevator made a stop on the third floor to let on an overweight couple straight out of Podunk, killing the levity of his ruse and restoring the panic to get to the garage first.

Oth.e.l.lo tapped his foot impatiently as he descended the private tower, hoping Raider hadn't been too bored but fully confident he could make it up to his lacrosse legend.

Raider almost mowed over the couple from Podunk when the elevator reached the ground floor. Then, he had to make a furious sprint through what seemed like miles of endless corridors, retracing his path back to the garage....

Oth.e.l.lo's elevator opened onto the private lobby. Only the guard was there, no sign of Raider. Flinging open the double gla.s.s doors to the garage, Oth.e.l.lo fully expected to find Raider standing next to the Lexus. But the only people visible were three men in blue suits, huddled together in a far-off corner. Certain that Raider was in the car, he crossed the lot to the Lexus. It was empty. A thought invaded his mind. He heard himself gasp. Jasper Hollinquest had done something with Raider; it was all a trick. He turned around and headed for the private lobby, his fury accelerating with each step. Then, just as he was about to open the doors to the lobby, Raider appeared out of the darkness to the left, so swiftly and abruptly he almost crashed intoa"

"Oth.e.l.loa"" Raider gasped, panting for air.

"Good G.o.d" was all Oth.e.l.lo could utter.

"There you are!" Raider sounded relieved.

"Where were you?" Oth.e.l.lo asked, his voice edgy due to his fright.

Raider bent over, hands gripping at his pants. After a few more breaths, he stood erect and glanced around the garage. "You were gone so long," he said in a hushed tone. "I got worried."

"You went looking for me?" The dread in Oth.e.l.lo's eyes turned to enchantment.

"Uh-huh," Raider stammered modestly. Forgiving and forgetting was that easy when you were a golden boy. The smile wiping across Oth.e.l.lo's face had "my hero" written all over it.

"Let's get out of this place," said the pop star.

"What about the meeting? Did we get what we came for? You had me scared to death."

"Put it this way," Oth.e.l.lo said, glancing around. "You and I have got some celebrating to do in the form of moonlight dancing."

With that, Oth.e.l.lo headed for the Lexus, full of more hope than he'd ever known in his personal life. For the briefest of seconds, Raider lingered behind, wondering what in the h.e.l.l Oth.e.l.lo had in mind now. Then, he too made his way toward the Lexus, thinking of the boys back at the bureau and how they were gonna flip their lids with envy when they found out what ol' Panty-Raider Kincaide had uncovered in the gay underworld.

EIGHT.

"I REFUSE TO TAKE another step unless you tell me right now where you're taking me," Raider demanded, the amused tone of his voice betraying his threat.

"Just make sure you keep those beautiful blue eyes of yours shut." Oth.e.l.lo dragged his willing captive by the hand in the pitch black night.

"I smell fish," Raider said, trying to keep up with Oth.e.l.lo's eager pace. "And the sea. I know the sea."

"Eyes closed," warned Oth.e.l.lo.

"And this is some kind of pier. You making me walk the plank?"

"No peeking. I'm watching you."

"I don't think I can keep 'em closed much longer," Raider teased.

"Hold it right here." Oth.e.l.lo let go of him and walked farther down the dock. "Are you in suspense?"

"Like I'm at a Hitchc.o.c.k moviea"now can I look?"

Oth.e.l.lo tried to calm the b.u.t.terflies in his stomach. "Simon says yes."

Raider opened his eyes and saw hundreds of boats bobbing in a sleepy marina. Directly behind them was the blackness of the Atlantic at 5:00 a.m.

"Well?" Oth.e.l.lo said, full of antic.i.p.ation, receiving a bewildered look in return. For lack of a better idea, he began singing as a way of explaining: The love boat now will be making a special run, to celebrate saving the re-vo-lu-ti-on.

Raider's mood did a U-turn, from playful to concerned. "But...."

"At this time of nighta"or morninga"when we'll have the ocean all to ourselves." To alleviate his nervousness, Oth.e.l.lo raced ahead to the small yacht five slips down. "And this is The Girlfriend. Of course, it still says The Lady Kate on the side, but it won't for long. I think The Girlfriend is a much better name, don't you?"

"You own this?" Raider moved trance-like toward the boat.

"I do now," Oth.e.l.lo said. Just then, a weary-faced Sweeney emerged from below deck. He was sporting a double-breasted navy jacket and a white captain's hat. "Admiral Sweeney, you remember the man from Nantucket."

"How could I forget?" Sweeney muttered as he stepped onto the dock.

"Shall we cast off then?" asked Oth.e.l.lo, clearly the only one having a good time so far. Looking at Raider, he extended his arm toward the yacht as if to say "lead the way." Raider hesitated, trying to figure out what other options he had other than going on a romantic cruise with a love-starved h.o.m.os.e.xual pop star. Deciding there were none, he shrugged and boarded Oth.e.l.lo's love boat. Oth.e.l.lo, beaming an even brighter smile than before, turned to follow but was halted by his manager's firm grip.

"One second, buster," Sweeney began, his stare like a laser through his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses. "Do not forget that this is in exchange for giving me one whole day for music business and music business alone."

"You have my word," Oth.e.l.lo said in a hushed, embarra.s.sed tone, and that ignited a brief but furious dueling gripe session with both of them talking and neither one hearing the other until Oth.e.l.lo finished with: "Now's not the time, all right?"

Sweeney then shut up, folded his arms and stared at the sky.

"Now," Oth.e.l.lo muttered, chagrined smile covering gritted teeth. "All aboard."

The Atlantic was awash with blue-tinted moonlight, the whitecaps acting like tiny speed b.u.mps as The Girlfriend raced out to sea. From the engine room, a pouting Sweeney piloted the controls, following instructions to "be invisible" while navigating the boat to a safe, romantic distance from the Jersey sh.o.r.e. On the upper deck, near the bow, Oth.e.l.lo and Raider stood huddled together without actually touching, bracing themselves against a Herculean wind that only seemed to grow colder with each nautical mile. Then, when the lights of Atlantic City were mere pinp.r.i.c.ks in the backdrop, The Girlfriend came to a stop and began bobbing effortlessly in the night.

"What more could we ask for?" asked Oth.e.l.lo, thankful the air was a bit warmer now that the wind was no longer attacking them. "We've got total privacy, a d.a.m.n near full moon, the fresh sea air, plus, the revolution just got a much needed shot in the arm."

"This celebration and all," Raider said, watching Sweeney head for the cabin below. "You knew you'd win these people over, didn't you?"

The only response Oth.e.l.lo offered was a laugh that was somewhere between modest and c.o.c.ky.

"'Fess up," Raider prodded, envious and fascinated at the same time.

Pensively, Oth.e.l.lo gazed at the lights on the boardwalk in the distance. "I've yet to meet a person whose will is stronger than mine."

Raider's face stiffened. He turned away from Oth.e.l.lo and stared northward. "So what's next?" he asked, more serious now.

"Full speed ahead. The revolution's about to s.h.i.+ft into high gear. But first...." He indicated Sweeney, who was reemerging from the cabin with a bucket of champagne and two long-stemmed gla.s.ses. Like an automaton in a bad mood, Sweeney placed them in the middle of a coil of rope on the deck near the cabin, then flashed a disingenuous smile and disappeared down below. "Jealous," Oth.e.l.lo snapped after him, then turned back to Raider. "A toast." When they each had a gla.s.s, he went on: "To full speed ahead. In more ways than one." Oth.e.l.lo chugged his drink; Raider faked a sip.

"So what exactly does full speed ahead mean?" asked Raider. "With the revolution, that is."

"Must we talk about it here, tonight? I'm in the mood fora"" love was what he wanted to say "a"getting to know each other more."

"But it's your job to educate me. I wanna feel your fire." Raider's voice was full of pa.s.sion, his eyes eager like a student's.

"The war is about to escalate on many different levels," Oth.e.l.lo began as he busied himself with a refill. "From helping the little people survive the daily onslaught of h.o.m.ophobia to," he paused, finished pouring, then contemplated the motion of the bubbles in his gla.s.s, "to bringing down the biggest bigots who serve as role models for the ignorant. Jimmy Herman to name just one."

"Talk about your a.s.sholes," Raider said full of disgust, faking another sip.

"The other week, I got so mad at him, I a.s.sa.s.sinated him on my big screen TV." Oth.e.l.lo took a swig of champagne, then added with a sullen voice: "Not a bad idea, wouldn't you say?" He scanned Raider's eyes for any kind of reaction, but the man from Nantucket only offered a "hmmmph" and turned toward the sea, most likely dismissing the incident as the temper tantrum of someone who could afford a thousand TVs. "Anyway, there's still a lot to be worked out, but tonight we got some very important backers."

"And they are?" Raider asked eagerly, testing Oth.e.l.lo's honesty.

Oth.e.l.lo set his gla.s.s inside the coil of rope and gazed up the coast, squinting and mulling over the ramifications of putting Jasper and Deon at risk. Most likely Raider Kincaide, Rookie Activist, wasn't ready for the whole truth. Maybe when he confessed his undying love for Oth.e.l.lo they could talk of financial moguls, basketball legends and a.s.sa.s.sination plots.

"Oth.e.l.lo," Raider said with a lilt in his voice, "you said you'd tell me what's going on if I came back East with you."

"And I told you: we got more backers. I don't want to jinx things just yet. These people are still new at this, just like you." His tone brightened. "And to think, you were going to save me tonight if things got ugly. My big stud in s.h.i.+ning armor." Standing side by side, Oth.e.l.lo put his arm around Raider's shoulders.

"Well, I don't know what I would have done," Raider said with a modest grin, thinking: I knew this was coming, bet he couldn't wait for an excuse to get his paws on me.

"With these biceps of steel?" With his other hand Oth.e.l.lo cupped Raider's arm. "I'm sure you would have come up with something worthy of Indiana Jones."

Raider laughed with mock skepticism. "You think so?"

"I know so. With your athletic prowess?"

"My playing days are long gone." This time he took a real sip of champagne, partly in hopes of loosening Oth.e.l.lo's grasp on his upper body. "But you still think I look like an athlete?"

"Are you kidding? With pecs like these." Oth.e.l.lo's hand landed in the middle of Raider's chest. "And legs like small tree trunks?"

"What do you mean, small?" said Raider.

"Small compared to a California redwood," Oth.e.l.lo corrected himself, "but quite large compared to the average man. And you're far from average."

"You think?" Raider asked baitingly, a doubtful glint struggling to break through the smile plastered on his face.

In an effort to get closer, Oth.e.l.lo moved in front of Raider until less than a foot separated them. "Yes, I do. And I also think you're fis.h.i.+ng for compliments, Raider Kincaide, you know you're a man's man."

Raider scoffed, and in a sudden desire for breathing room, retreated from Oth.e.l.lo and leaned over the railing, focusing on the champagne gla.s.s rotating in his hands. "I was not fis.h.i.+ng for compliments," he said defensively.

"Yes, you were," teased Oth.e.l.lo.

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"I said I wasn't. Now drop it."

Taken aback by the edginess in Raider's voice, Oth.e.l.lo decided not to pursue it. "Doesn't matter," he said, leaning over the railing next to Raider and gazing out to sea. "I'm too ecstatic to argue. I'm so happy I could cruise around the world. Or maybe up to Nantucket. Let's do it. Seriously. We could head up to Nantucket. You could show me your hometown and all your old haunts."

"Nantucket?" Raider dismissed the idea with a terse breath, as if it were the most ridiculous notion of the night. "I haven't been back to that place in years," he said scoldingly.

Deliberately, Oth.e.l.lo stood up straight, a grave expression creeping over his face as he eyed Raider, who was staring una.s.sumingly at the Atlantic.

Years? But you said you just moved to LA from Nantucket.

Time stopped for Oth.e.l.lo. An instinctive nerve told him to question this contradiction right away, but the shock held him back. Raider hadn't tried to correct himself either, his slip apparently too subconscious for him to notice. In the dead silence, a new reality sank in, as resounding as a death knell in Oth.e.l.lo's mind: Raider had lied. Raider was lying. Raider was capable of lying to him.

Oth.e.l.lo averted his stare to the darkness of the horizon, the sight of the man he wanted to be the love of his life too ripe with confusion and pain. He wasn't even sure how long the silence lasted, but it was Raider who broke it.

"You know, recently I went out and bought One Nation," he said, leaving out the part about buying it for his son and refusing to give it to him after he found out Oth.e.l.lo was a h.o.m.o. "Then I listened to every song for any hidden gay messages."

"And?" Oth.e.l.lo said vacantly.

"I don't know." Raider chuckled. His tone was one of amus.e.m.e.nt, fully oblivious to having just severed a heart.

"The alb.u.m is a flop as far as I'm concerned," Oth.e.l.lo said. What was Raider trying to pull? he asked himself. Was it just an innocent white lie? Or was it bigger than that, as in Raider was after Oth.e.l.lo's money or trying to out him to the tabloids? Or could it have something to do with the clandestine endeavors that were suddenly consuming Oth.e.l.lo's life? In short, who the h.e.l.l was this guy named Raider Kincaide?

"A flop?" said Raider. "It's been number one for weeks."

"Creatively a flop. I was trying for some kind of 'we're all one people' concept, but I failed to mention the most important people of all: queers."

"What do you suppose would happen if you did come out?" Raider asked, a.s.suming talk of the alb.u.m was the source of Oth.e.l.lo's somber mood.

Oth.e.l.lo shrugged, struggling to stay with the conversation, debating whether or not to proceed with the night's plans even though his dreams were in the process of being run through a paper shredder. "Maybe people would do what you did, buy my alb.u.ms to look for hidden messages, try to reinterpret every little thing I ever did."