How it all began

This builds on to "Grey". Hope you like it. :)

Marion Sweeney Hall was on the way to Buenos Aires to fulfil a contract. He reminisized how it all began.

Grey, as Marion preferred to be called, was in a bind when he was in his early twenties. He liked his job well enough, but it wasn't too exciting. He loved his grandmother Clyde B. C. "Momma" Dahl and would do anything for her. She was sick and Grey didn't know how to pay the medical bills. Grey felt a bit guilty about what he was about to do. He knew his grandmother wouldn't approve it.

She had been raising him, keeping Grey on the straight and narrow, but she felt Grey was drawn to crime and wasn't wrong about it. He saw what some of his cousins could afford, dealing drugs, and thought about which career path he could take in the criminal world. Momma had other plans with him and arranged an apprenticeship as a pastry chef for Grey when he left high school. Unfortunately Grey was an average student and not sporty, so a scholarship was out of the question and financing college was impossible.

Grey was African American and small with very dark skin and dark brown eyes. He blended into crowds perfectly well and was totally inconspicuous.

When Momma was diagnosed with terminal colon cancer Grey gave up his day job. He believed he was cut out to be a contract killer. Grey knew how to handle a gun, because he had spent his summers with his grand uncle in rural South Carolina, who took him hunting and fishing. It taught him to be patient. Grey was also cunning and cold blooded. His heroes were Harry "Pittsburgh Phil" Strauss and Richard "The Iceman" Kuklinski. He had also heard about Joseph Buckland, but believed the guy was a myth. Joseph Buckland had never been caught and was one of the wealthiest hit men around. According to legend he lived in Phoenix like Grey.

Grey's first jobs came from his cousin's gang. He enjoyed the power he had over life and death. Grey wasn't a sadist, though, and tried to be as quick and painless as possible.

One day everything changed. Grey was approached by a woman. She wanted Senator Walter Baron Sabena from Wisconsin killed. The lady had been kidnapped when she was very young and held in a brothel, belonging to the senator. It had destroyed her life. Now she wanted her revenge. Grey hoped this case would be his breakthrough. Of course he had imagined it was a fairly easy job, but he was wrong and somebody else was also after Senator Sabena. Grey followed the competitor and ambushed him after knowing his routines. Grey used psychological and physical pressure to find out what the other one was up to. Fin Noose was a burglar and after some files. As a thank you for not shooting him, Fin gave Grey the senator's schedule. It made Grey's life much easier, but he also learned something. He needed a mentor, who showed him the tricks of the trade.
Grey was a bit sorry about how he had treated Fin and thought the burglar was honorable. Fin wasn't indebted and he still had helped him.
Grey tried to patch up the relationship and followed Fin to his home town Miami. At first Fin was unhappy to encounter Grey again, but was less frosty when he realized Grey's intention. It was the beginning of a great friendship and thanks to Fin's connection Grey was introduced to Joseph Buckland.

Joseph Buckland was about to send Grey away. When he heard who had recommended him, Joseph welcomed Grey with open arms. Joseph taught Grey for the next one and a half years, who turned out to be a rising star in his branch.

©2014

Hidden

Did you ever wonder where Frieda was when Fin's middle man threatened to kidnap her and force Fin to do a job? Here is the answer. You can also read Fragments, Kidnapped, Middle Man and Break in. They are all connected. :)

"Leave immediately!" Coldham Fintan Noose III told his wife Frieda. She was surprised. The urgency of Fin's tone, as he was nick named, made it clear he wasn't requesting it on a whim. He told her Damien, his middle man, had sent out people to kidnap her, so that Fin was forced to do a job for Damien he wasn't willing to take on. Fin also asked her to leave her phone behind and to seek help from someone nobody would think of.

Frieda went calmly. She waddled more than walked, because she was in the last few months of her first pregnancy. Frieda was of course concerned, but hoped she managed to get away before the thugs arrived. She used the elevator as usual.

Frieda sighed a breath of relief when she was on the road. Before buying a new cell phone Frieda went to a gun shop. She hated weapons, but since her father was a high ranking member of the Colombian mafia he had deemed it necessary his daughters were able to defend themselves. Roberto Pianas had taken Frieda to the shooting range when she was thirteen. Frieda was a satisfactory shot and had a weapons license. She bought a Glock 12, her preferred gun, and ammunition. Afterwards she took care of the phone.
Resting at a cafe she thought about whom she could ask for help. Frieda dismissed her friends Agnes and Logan. If the kidnappers were any good they knew Frieda, Agnes and Logan had studied together and that Logan was a former work colleague of Frieda's. The same went for Bailey Mumford-Nuss and Reggie Smith. Reggie had been Fin's mentor and Bailey was his girlfriend.
After long deliberating Frieda got the phone number of her former professor. Frieda believed nobody would think about her.
"Hello?" Professor Phyllis Bligh answered. "Professor Bligh, it's Frieda Pianas Noose. You might remember me..." Phyllis Bligh, a tall African American, had never forgotten Frieda. How could she, when Frieda had been victim of racism at the college and there had been a hearing with Professor Bligh as a witness. Besides Frieda had been one of her favorite students. "Of course I do!" Professor Bligh had wondered what had happened to Frieda. Unfortunately way too few students kept contact.
Phyllis Bligh combined Frieda was married, based on the double name Frieda had given earlier. "Mrs. Pianas Noose, is this a social call?" Phyllis sounded stricter than intended. She was busy, having to go to the next lecture soon. "No, I'll have to ask for a huge favor and it could be dangerous for you." "What has happened?" "To make a long story short, somebody is trying to kidnap me and I need a hiding place. Would you allow me to stay with you for a while? I hope the issue is resolved within a few weeks." Phyllis didn't hesitate. She agreed immediately.

When they met in the evening Phyllis was surprised to find Frieda was pregnant and it had progressed quite far. Phyllis hoped Frieda wasn't going to give birth while she was staying with her. During dinner they caught up, but Frieda was elusive about why somebody wanted to kidnap her and what made her so sure her situation would improve soon. When Frieda had enough of Phyllis inquisitiveness she said: "Look, I appreciate you are helping me, but it is better for you the fewer you know." Phyllis wasn't happy with that answer but was all what she got. It let her wonder what Frieda's husband was doing for a living. Professor Bligh wasn't used to have people around her. Having been divorced for sixteen years and living alone slightly longer it was a major lifestyle change for her. Frieda tried to not inconvenience Phyllis, was tidy, and it was nice to have a dinner waiting when Phyllis returned after a long day.
One evening Frieda approached the subject of regular doctor's check-ups. She asked if Phyllis could contact her doctor and to arrange house visits. Frieda didn't want to change doctors at the last moment. Frieda feared, though, when she went to the surgery the kidnappers were waiting for her, so she couldn't take the risk. Normally her doctor didn't do house visits. Thanks to Professor Bligh's stubbornness she made an exception.

Fin kept her regularly updated. Frieda missed Fin and looked forward to the calls, but she was getting frustrated about only hearing Fin and his friends hadn't found Damien yet. There was a break through after Frieda stayed a bit more than two weeks with Professor Bligh. To Frieda's disappointment and anger Damien had escaped, but the other kidnappers were dead. Frieda had hoped she could return home now. They agreed it was still too dangerous. Damien had to be desperate. Frieda was glad to hear Grey Hall was still on the case and if he was able to locate Damien he would kill him.

Frieda was getting restless and tried hard not to be short tempered or grumpy. She had enough of being pregnant and wanted to sleep in her own bed with Fin beside her. She missed the physical contact. Frieda started to despair and believed she was going to have to live forever at a random place.

Finally Frieda received the news Damien had been terminated. Damien's death had come just in time. There were only four weeks to go until the baby was due.
Frieda had mixed feelings about the whole affair. She was glad she could spend time with Professor Blythe and know her better, but was sad about Damien's demise and over overjoyed to be reunited with Fin, who felt responsible and guilty for a while about Damien.

©2014

Kidnapped

This one is to clear up any confusion caused by "Fragments".

"Why me?" I was asking in despair. I've never hurt a fly and found myself suddenly kidnapped. I was very short before my due date, which made things not easier. I found an answer to my question, when I was forced by my kidnappers to speak to a total stranger on the phone. The kidnappers believed the stranger, who was called Fin, was my husband. A mistake. My real husband is a soldier and was at the time on tour in Afghanistan. Fin confirmed it was a case of mistaken identity. The kidnappers' target had been Fin's wife, who was also pregnant and Latina like me. I was of course scared. For the child's sake I tried to stay calm. Fin promised me to try and get me released as soon as possible. I hoped the police was arriving soon. It took more than two weeks and the cavalry arriving wasn't the police, but mercenaries or so I thought.

There were four guys, who were guarding me twenty four hours a day. Two were okay - they took care their partners in crime didn't get out of hand - but the other two I was worried about. One of them liked to rough handle me and pushing me around a bit when I had to go to toilet, which was often due to the baby squeezing my bladder. The other stared at me, when he thought I wasn't watching. He never dared to touch me, but alone the looks sent a shiver down my spine. There was also their boss Damien, who came sometimes to visit. He was self-assured and from what I understood Fin, to whom I've spoken a second time, was going to organize something for Damien. Since I had seen my hostage takers faces I was sure they would kill me as soon as Fin had done their bidding. What if I couldn't rely on Fin and he hadn't contacted the police or would not do the job Damien had asked him to do? What if the baby was arriving earlier than thought? I started to get insane with worry. Besides I was bored like hell. There was nothing to do. My body ached in every position due to my huge tummy. At least the unborn was active. A good sign I thought. My hostage takers also fed me regularly. They weren't prepared for a pregnant woman. They brought take aways. The portions were too large and too few. In the last trimester I had started eating five or six small portions instead of three square meals a day, because I couldn't eat so much in one go. The Chinese food caused me heartburn. Since the kidnappers weren't Latin American origin, they didn't consider to bring me something Mexican, which I really craved.

More than two weeks had passed. Damien had arrived to discuss some issues with the other guys. They were looking up in surprise, when a truck approached. Damien sent one of his henchmen to the front door to check the situation out. It was the one who liked to stare at me. The situation was tense. Everything went haywire. When the guy opened the door, pistol at the ready, he was shot. At the same time we were attacked from all angles. Three men entered via the roof, one of the two windows and the back door. They all had machine guns and mowed my kidnappers down. I screamed in shock.
To my dismay Damien dived behind me and before I could react had me in an iron grip and a loaded gun pressed to my temple. He tried to escape through the back door. I was of course frightened, but also thought I couldn't stand being a hostage any longer. Seeing my chance I stomped heartily on his foot. Damien cried out and released me. I jumped out of the way clumsily. Machine guns trained on the ring leader, but he escaped unharmed through the back. I thought my nightmare was finally over, but suddenly I felt something wet dripping down my legs. At first I thought I had peed into my panties, when the attack started. Pain settled in nearly immediately. I realized I was in labor and wanted to cry. There was nobody to support me. At home in Wyoming I had chosen my neighbor to be my birthing partner and close friend, since I knew my husband wasn't going to be at the birth. "Elizabeth, are you alright?" A female in a courier uniform asked in Spanish. "Yes... No." I replied. She was tall and had black hair, olive skin and brown eyes. It seemed she was married, because she was wearing a gold ring on the left ring finger. Her name was Nicola. "I... My labor has started." "We'll better get you checked out at a hospital. Antonio, can you call round which hospital is nearest? I think Fin mentioned something like the Mercy and Baptist and maybe the South Miami Hospital." Nicola's calmness and Antonio's quick nod, re-assured and soothed me. Another wave of contractions hit me. I groaned with the pain. "Take a deep breath. Yes, that's good." Nicola guided me through the contraction. Antonio in the meantime called the hospitals. He looked exotic. Antonio was not that tall, in his mid-thirties and had light brown hair, almond shaped black eyes and caramel colored skin. He paced impatiently up and down, while waiting for the different hospitals replies. The Baptist was willing to take me. It was the furthest away. We drove there. The midwife was very good, but told us it was too early, so I wasn't admitted. Grey, who was driving and another person, who had helped free me, said he would bring us to the house of his friend. He was African American and very inconspicuous. We went to Miami Beach. Finally I met Fin. To my surprise he wasn't Hispanic. He was taller than Nicola, light ash blond and had blue grey eyes. Based on the Spanish Nicola and the others spoke I thought they were Colombian Americans. Antonio had a slightly different lilt and Fin's accent was there, but difficult to place. Antonio updated Fin what had happened. To my amazement Fin's eyes turned blue, when he heard Damien had escaped, then suddenly grey. I hadn't seen that in any other person so far. To my surprise Fin also apologized, admitting it was his fault I had been kidnapped. He looked contrite and said he was also sorry that the stress of being a hostage and the shoot-out had caused the premature labor. I absolved him. The baby might would have been born earlier than planned anyway. I only hoped she was healthy. Nicola promised to stay with me during the birth. She told me she had one small son herself. While Antonio regaled me with growing up in Ibiza - that explained his accent -, Fin took Grey aside. Antonio stared at them. There were some tensions, which I didn't have an explanation for. Nicola noticed I was following the men. She rolled her eyes and simply said: "Male and their blood lust." She shut up, when Antonio shot her a poisonous glare. I assumed it had something to do with Damien escaping. I didn't want to know too much. The guys asked me if I wanted to go to the police. There were some more tensions. Sensing they would prefer if the police could be kept out, I decided I owed them and wouldn't press the matter with law enforcement. They were visibly relieved.

To take off my mind from the pain, I decided on a name for my daughter.
I knew I was expecting a girl. My husband and I hadn't been able to agree on what to call her. Being grateful I considered naming her after Fin, but his full name was Coldham Fintan and that was unsuitable. I also didn't consider Grey, so I choose Nicola Antonia Barreintos after rolling the names around my tongue.

Finally the contractions were only a few minutes apart and we went back to the hospital. I got an epidural, because I felt wasn't going to be able to cope with the strength of the contractions. Finally I held my daughter in hands. From the time when the waters broke till the last push 9 hours had passed. Nickie was red and wrinkled, but for me she was the most beautiful baby ever. I thought Nickie looked a bit like her father. Thank goodness my daughter didn't suffer any negative effects from being born too early. We could leave the hospital a day later.

The kidnapping marked me. I had flash backs and nightmares for a long time. My trust in strangers was gone. For a while I saw hostage takers around each corner or behind every bush. If I wouldn't have had Nickie I would have buried myself at home and been a reclusive. She forced me to go out and encounter people every day. Slowly I returned to my old self.

My husband didn't notice the changes. He was either on tour or too concerned with himself and getting used to Nickie.

Every year on Nickie's birthday a gift arrived for her anonymous. I guessed they were from Fin.

I never saw him or any of my rescuers again beside Nicola, who stayed in contact.

©2014

Grey

This is a short story about a friend of Coldham Fintan Noose III. Hope you like this one too.

"You are a girl!" "Cry baby!" Another kid shouted. Marion Sweeney Hall's lower lip quivered and his eyes welled up in anger. He wasn't a girl, just because he had that stupid name! His mother had been a film and musical buff and had chosen Marion for Marion Morrison, the actor John Wayne's real name, and Sweeney for Sweeney Todd, the main character of a musical.
Marion didn't accept being teased, so he pushed the girl, who had called him a cry baby. Soon they were fighting and rolling on the ground. Their classmates were supporting them by shouting: "Fight, fight!" The cries of encouragement and the fight stopped soon, when a teacher separated Marion and the girl. They were brought to the principal, who was displeased with the behavior of both. She lectured and suspended them. She also informed the legal guardians of the children. In Marion's case it was his grandmother Clyde B. C. Dahl. He called her Momma.

Marion felt sick. Momma was going to be so disappointed in him. Momma was tall, thin with black hair and cinnamon colored skin. She moved very graciously. Sometimes Marion thought she was a queen. Momma was his maternal grandmother.
Carita Dahl, Clyde's daughter, and Michael Hall were high school sweethearts and had been going steady for years. When she was twenty she got pregnant. Michael decided to do the right thing. They married before the baby bump showed. Michael and Carita hadn't lived together before. They realized soon their lifestyles were different and the pregnancy turned out to be a difficult one. Michael couldn't take the situation and left for good, leaving Carita to deal with it alone. Carita was glad her mother supported her. The experience made her bitter and when the chance came to move to Chicago for a better job, she was more than willing to forget she had a son.
Marion didn't remember much about his mother. She left him when he was a bit over two. Since then it had been only Momma and him. Momma took her responsibility to raise Marion serious. She made sure he knew how to behave and that he was able to go to a better school in downtown Phoenix. They weren't poor, but they weren't wealthy either. Momma and Marion lived in Sunnyside. It wasn't the best area to live in.

Momma wasn't too pleased she had to leave work and deal with her errant six year old grandson. Unlike others she didn't believe in walloping. It would be double standard and teach Marion the wrong lesson. Fighting violence with violence didn't make sense.
The issue had to be dealt with, though.
Momma had a quick chat with the principal and took Marion home. They had been quiet on the bus journey, each one hanging after their own thoughts.
"Why don't you change into something more comfortable?" Momma suggested, not unpleasant. She bustled in the kitchen, making Brazilian Lemonade - normally it was a Sunday treat. Momma thought it was a good idea to have a more relaxed atmosphere when talking with Marion about the incident at school. It would be difficult enough getting him talk.
When Marion returned, Momma invited him to take a seat at the kitchen table. "So, tell me what happened." Marion looked at her with big brown eyes, but didn't say anything. Momma filled the glasses with the lemonade. She thought she had given him enough time to answer. "Marion Sweeney, if you don't tell me what happened I have to believe what Mrs. Senter is telling me. If that's the case I would be very disappointed, because there wouldn't have been any reason for you attacking that girl." Marion looked down and mumbled: "You are going to be disappointed any way." "We will see." Encouraged by Momma's gentleness, he described what had happened, finishing with: "I'm sorry." "Oh, Marion! I can understand that the other kids hurt you and made you angry. I don't appreciate, though, that you choose to solve your issue with your fists. That's never good. What does our Lord, Jesus, say?" Momma didn't get an answer. She sighed. "Matthew 5:39 and Luke 6:27-6:29. Go, get the bible if you don't know and we read the verses together." Marion didn't give a lot what Jesus preached in his situation. Jesus was perfect anyways, while he was a little boy. Marion refused to cooperate and stared at the table. "Marion?" Momma could be very stern. Momma changed her tune, when Marion still didn't comply. "What's the matter with you, boy?! Have you swallowed your tongue?" Momma's voice was suddenly sharp. Marion shook his head. "Then answer me or get the book." Marion stood up and trudged to his grandmother's bedroom. The bible was lying on the bed stand. It was leather bound, old and well used. Momma studied it every night.
Marion returned. Momma motioned him to take a seat beside her. She had no problems finding the location of the text she was looking for. "Read that to me, please." The Gospel of Matthew was first. The language of the King James' Version was difficult, and it took Marion a few attempts to have it correct. He read: "But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." Luke was a bit longer. "But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you,
Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.
And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also."
Momma explained to him what this all meant. Marion didn't agree. He and his grandmother had a heated argument about behavior. Since Momma was more powerful, Marion had to give in. He didn't know what he hated more: Apologizing to the girl he had fought with, having to spend the time he had been suspended with Mrs. Zorbas, a disliked neighbor (Her home reeked of cat urine and she was really old.), or to copy the verses they just had read and discussed 250 times in his nicest hand writing.
Momma had to go to work, but couldn't leave Marion alone at home, so she asked Mrs. Zorbas to look after Marion. She didn't like being indebted to Mrs. Zorbas.
The lines were punishment for loosing his temper and forgetting about "Christian" behavior as Momma liked to call it.
Marion knew this wasn't all, because Momma always punished him for causing trouble in school as well.
To his dismay Marion had to go to bed an hour earlier than usual for a whole month. He thought it was too hard and unfair, but kept quiet, because if he protested too much, Momma would extend the punishment and Marion wanted to avoid that at all costs.
Momma decided something else to make life a bit easier for Marion. "I want to discuss something else with you. Since you don't like your name, you can choose a nickname." Marion was unsure. "You can take your time, darling. When you have chosen, let me know."

For a while Marion called himself Mario, but since he didn't have any resemblance to what the Italian name implied, he dropped it. Marion was African American, very dark skinned and small for his age. Even as an adult Marion was smaller than most.
Sweeney was the next choice, but Marion wasn't happy with that either. It was still too feminine in his opinion.
As a teenager he found the final and perfect nick name. Marion was unobtrusive and blended into a crowd without getting noticed. Being unremarkable and inconspicuous had its advantages. Marion associated the color grey with those characteristics and took a philosophical look at life, having learned that the world was not black and white. There were many grey zones and that was how he chose his name. Whenever he introduced himself, he was Grey Hall.

©2013