Uprising - The Suspense Thriller Part 34

"Let's go," said the mulatto cop and the five of them took off toward the woods.

Oth.e.l.lo took his first full breath in minutes when he heard the legs of the law scampering off. Raider had been on the up and up, or so it seemed. Still, it was impossible to fully trust the man, especially as several minutes pa.s.sed without one sign of Raider returning as he promised he would when he convinced Oth.e.l.lo to hide like this.

A few minutes turned into several. Several turned into an eternity. In the distance, he could hear the cacophony of sirens and bullhorns and people moving chaotically as if Jimmy Herman had actually been shot and was now bleeding to death up on the stage. Twenty minutes must have pa.s.sed, or so it felt, and he had all but given up on Raider and began trying to come up with an escape plan on his own. He was about to move out from under the van and do just that when he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine growing closer and closer. Staying under cover, he saw a motorcycle tire rolling into view, then stopping right at his face. Next to the tire, he saw a pair of white, worn-out sneakers.

He couldn't help smiling as he crawled out from under the van.

"I was beginning to wonder if you abandoned me."

"Took longer than I expected to throw everybody off." Raider glanced around. "We're still not out of this yet. Stay down."

Cautiously, Raider rolled the bike along the row of vans and 4x4s while Oth.e.l.lo crept along him in a crouched position. The chaos was still plentiful. Between each vehicle, they could see a virtual army of cops and security guards surrounding the grounds while the media scrambled to get the story and museum-goers huddled together as if just surviving a natural disaster.

"Wait," Raider said, sizing up the last van in the row. "I've got an idea."

THE RED LOCAL NEWS van rolled toward the entrance only to be stopped by a young highway patrol officer. From the driver's seat, Raider sighed, as if tired of the routine, and flashed his badge once again.

"FBI, going home," he said wearily.

"Then move it," the cop said, waving him through. The van pulled away. In the back, lying flat on the floor face up, Oth.e.l.lo actually contemplated the possibility of the tension releasing its stranglehold on his entire being.

Thirty miles away from the Jimmy Herman Museum, the cheap motels and ALL-U-CAN-EAT restaurants began to give way to endless green fields and Raider pulled the van over behind an abandoned barn. Out of the back came the motorcycle, the two of them hoisting it to the ground. Afterwards, Raider hopped on and started it up.

"You coming or not?" he said putting on his green half-helmet.

"This yours?"

"One of two. How do you think I got down here so fast after your a.s.s? What, you thought I took the airlines? This, my friend, is the only way to fly."

"You rode this?"

"How else was I gonna look for you at rest stops along the way?"

Oth.e.l.lo looked at the Harley-Davidson logo on the gas tank. "I've never ridden on the back of a bike before."

"Well, we can't stick around here all day being shy."

Oth.e.l.lo climbed on awkwardly, not knowing where to put his hands. "You don't have another helmet?"

Pretending to be perturbed, Raider took the half-helmet off his head and placed it on Oth.e.l.lo's. "Happy now?"

"I will be when we're out of South Carolina." Oth.e.l.lo removed the helmet long enough to take off his fisherman's cap and stuff it into one of Raider's saddlebags.

"It's okay to put your arms around me. You don't want to fall off, do you?"

Oth.e.l.lo did as told, tentatively at first so as not to give Raider the wrong impression. "Raider, I have a confession," he then said.

"Oh, no."

"I've never ridden on the front of a bike before either."

Raider turned around, shocked and bewildered.

"I've never been on a motorcycle period," Oth.e.l.lo said, trying not to sound too defensive.

"Well, sure as s.h.i.+t, there's a first time for everything, ain't there?"

Raider didn't wait for a response. Instead he slammed the door to the van shut with his foot and revved up the engine. They took off, heading west, getting up to fifty in a matter of seconds, then sixty, then seventy where Raider kept it for the next 200 miles. Oth.e.l.lo was part terrified, part relieved and part thrilled to be clinging to Raider. And cling he did, more out of fear than anything. For most of the way, his arms were wound tight around Raider's torso, his head buried securely in Raider's back.

They drove without stopping except for gas, junk food and urinals. They drove past stretches of green pastures, past more cheesy highway stops, and finally, past the South Carolina state line and into Georgia. At one gas station, Raider bought a map and they avoided the main highways in favor of the back roads. The afternoon wore on and the sun began its early summer descent. Then, a little over three hours into their journey, Oth.e.l.lo saw a sign that announced Atlanta thirty miles away and yelled in Raider's ear, asking him to stop. Raider turned down a dirt road and drove another half mile until they were out of view from the highway.

"Again?" he asked, pulling over next to a tall oak tree in a lazy patch of gra.s.s, a.s.suming Oth.e.l.lo needed to take another leak.

"No." Oth.e.l.lo got off and stretched. "Quitting time. For you and me." He set the helmet on the ground and began removing the geriatric getup, starting with the raisin-skinned gloves and latex beer belly.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Raider. "I'm going to live up to my end and take you to Atlanta."

"I think we both survived this ordeal now, as long as the fallout doesn't bite us in the a.s.s. Speaking of which: you think that Callahan character can nail me?"

"Nah. He'll be too busy clearing himself. And after they figure out a black man was involved, they've got no prints on the gun."

Oth.e.l.lo took off his wig and facial hair and wiped the makeup on his sleeve. "Wait a minute: what about my car back at that pancake house?"

"Was it rented in your name?"

"A fake name. Under one of my dummy corporations. The idea was for us all to get to Summerhill as incognito as possible. That's why it was waiting for us right as we stepped off the plane, on the tarmac."

"I can finagle my way into having it confiscated and s.h.i.+pped back up to Virginia before anyone can find out anything about it. I can also have whatever was in it sent to you."

"There's nothing in it," Oth.e.l.lo said. "I dumped everything but my wallet in a dumpster back in DC. When they caught me after I shot Herman, I didn't want to have anything on me, anything traceable but my ID."

Raider unstraddled the bike and sat sideways, contemplating the thoroughness of Oth.e.l.lo's actions. Then he glanced up at the sun setting through the tree and said: "So what does Oth.e.l.lo do now?"

"You mean in the future?"

"I mean, when you walk away from here? Atlanta isn't exactly around the corner."

"I could use a long walk. To clear my head from the three-month-long fog I've been in. I've got funds. I can arrange a car when I get tired and a plane after that. Back to LA and the big empty Big House." There was a long pause, then Oth.e.l.lo asked: "What about you?"

"Me? Guess I'll ride back to DC. Got some head clearing to do myself. Plus, I need to figure out how I'm gonna turn in the case unsolved. Not right away, after what happened today. In about a week or two." Suddenly he had a troubled look on his face. "Or more."

"Is all this going to put you in a heap of trouble?"

"Maybe." He thought about it. "Definitely. But if nothing panned out, nothing panned out."

"What about all the evidence? Don't they already know things?"

"Not enough to do anything. I kept all the big shockers to myself." He laughed at himself, shaking his head. "I was gonna spring it all on 'em like some G.o.dd.a.m.n movie. Now, there's not much to tell. Some gardener was giving money on behalf of some rich old f.a.g hag. She had no idea what ACTNOW really did with it and we can't even say for sure ACTNOW ever committed a felony. That's where it ends. Theya"wea"knew about your $20,000 check cashed by Travis."

"That night," Oth.e.l.lo said regretfully.

"That's why they sent me out in the first place, but that...that was just a lone contribution by a rich gay singer from what I gathered."

"What about the old black man from Simi Valley?" Oth.e.l.lo asked. "What about the old black man from today? Can't they connect the two?"

"To what?" Raider scoffed. "Panty-Raider f.u.c.ked it up, lost the lead. Who was the guy? Where the h.e.l.l did he go? Where the h.e.l.l is he now? If he never surfaces again, how can they find him?"

"Raider, I don't know what to say."

"Here. Take this." From his pocket, he pulled out a key and tossed it to Oth.e.l.lo. "It's to a safe deposit box at Unity Federal Bank in West Hollywood. It's got all the evidence I collected."

"How am I supposed to get access to a safe deposit in your name?"

"I'll authorize youa"oh, and there's this...." He retrieved a miniature roll of film from one of the saddlebags attached to the Harley. "Pictures from Summerhill. You didn't think I'd wear that peach jacket for real, did you?"

"Not my man," Oth.e.l.lo said, taking possession of the roll. They both laughed quietly. "Raider, G.o.d I'll never forget you."

"I've given you all the evidence, O, if that's any indication of how serious I am about letting you go as long as you stay legal and never breathe a worda""

"I could never hurt you," Oth.e.l.lo promised. "Not in this lifetime." He then stuffed Joe's hair, belly and gloves into the saddlebag. "Here's my collateral."

"We're not done," Raider said, then reached into the saddlebag on the other side and pulled out a change of clothes for Oth.e.l.lo. "You don't need to be wearing anything remotely resembling an old man right now." He handed Oth.e.l.lo a gray polo s.h.i.+rt and the smallest pair of jeans he could find in his closet. He also gave him a canteen full of water and a towel so Oth.e.l.lo could completely remove the makeup on his face. After Oth.e.l.lo got over his astonishment, Raider watched the pop star transform himself back into his real self. The clothes were way too big, of course, but Oth.e.l.lo didn't seem to mind. He did use Joe's belt to keep the pants from falling down, but other than that, he was Oth.e.l.lo once again.

"You brought all this down from Was.h.i.+ngton?" Oth.e.l.lo asked in disbelief as he finished cuffing the jeans a good six inches. "For me. You were that sure you could get me to go along with your deal?"

"Like I said, I know you got brains."

"So why didn't you give me this earlier, like anytime in the last few hours when I was riding through South Carolina on the back of a bike, dressed as Joe?"

Raider shook his head and smiled the smile of someone whose experience in these matters was second nature. "Which do you think would have been easier to explain if we had been stopped by the cops: Raider Kincaide with an old black man who just might be my partner who doesn't have his ID with him, or Raider Kincaide with the one and only Oth.e.l.lo?"

They both laughed.

"You really are a good agent, Raider," Oth.e.l.lo said. "And a good man, Agent Kincaide."

Raider bowed his head, surveying the gra.s.s beneath his feet. "You know there's a good possibility I might lose my job for this. I'm sure I'm going to come off like one pretty incompetent dips.h.i.+ta"all kinds of questions, more excuses than answers. They may even think all I did was string the investigation out just to party in Hollywood on the government for three months."

"Is this what you really want to do?"

Raider thought about it, then shrugged. "Why should I work for a bunch of h.o.m.ophobes?"

Oth.e.l.lo smiled, remembering the good times, the tenderness. "Raider. Isn't there any waya""

"Oth.e.l.lo," Raider said, knowing what was coming next. "You know the answer to that."

"Life isn't fair," Oth.e.l.lo said, looking at the key in his hands.

"Tell me something I don't know." For a moment there was silence as they both contemplated life without each other.

"Who you doing this for?" Oth.e.l.lo asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you just doing this so the world won't find out that Panty-Raider Kincaide took it up thea"so that people, the people that matter in your life, your son, your buddies, your fellow agents, your family, your mom and dada"so they won't all find out you had h.o.m.os.e.xual s.e.x? Or are you doing this because you really care about me? In your own Raider Kincaide, all-American way?"

Raider laughed and threw his head back. "Oth.e.l.lo, come on. Does it matter?"

"To me it does. I wanna know."

"You're something else, you know that?"

"Yes, I do. Now tell me. Please."

Raider looked away and stared at an empty field in the distance. "Is it possible the reason could be both reasons? Ever hear of something called 50/50?"

"Yeah," Oth.e.l.lo said softly, then came up with another angle. "Would you say exactly 50/50 or one reason more than the other? I mean, like there's 60/40, 70/30, 90/10, 99/1."

Raider let out an all out guffaw.

"Well, I just wanna know," Oth.e.l.lo said.

"Tell you what," Raider said with a big old grin. "Three months we've been under each other's microscopes, right? I'll let you decide for yourself."

Oth.e.l.lo opened his mouth to protest but closed it and smiled. That was all Raider was going to offer, plain and simple. Maybe it didn't matter anymore anyway.

"We'd better get going," Raider said before long. "You sure I can't give you a ride all the way to Atlanta?"

"Head clearing, remember? For both of us. Besides, I got some serious plans to make."

"Oth.e.l.lo," warned Raider.

"Legal plans," Oth.e.l.lo promised, "aboveboard in every sense, without Jasper or Deon or any other coward who won't join me. There's more than one way to start an uprising, you know."

Raider regarded him curiously. "Be careful. I'd hate to see you get hurt."

Suddenly, Oth.e.l.lo had a desire to reveal his HIV status, not only because they'd had s.e.x, but also to provide their relations.h.i.+p with that much more intimacy. But he checked the impulse. The moment didn't seem right for any more intimacy than what they'd already shared. Besides, as far as transmission was concerned, they had been doubly safe with two condoms for a.n.a.l s.e.x, and the chances Raider might have been otherwise exposed that night were slim to none. It'll keep, Oth.e.l.lo thought.

Raider started the engine. Oth.e.l.lo handed him the helmet. As Raider took it, Oth.e.l.lo placed his hands on top of Raider's, feeling them one last time. Raider didn't jerk away. He just held them there and they shared what felt like the last smile they'd ever share.

"Good-bye, my man from Nantucket."

"Take care of yourself, Oth.e.l.lo Hardaway of Riverside, California."

With that, Raider put on the helmet and took off, retracing their path down the dirt road until he was on the highway again, only this time heading east.