One by one the soldiers filed into the ready room. They wore no insignia or signs of rank. What made them special could not be seen by the shape of the muscular bodies; their military buzz cuts or the perfect laced boots each wore. There were a dozen of them in the room and they should not exist. The Spook Squad as they secretly called themselves was no place for normal men. 

Each agent in this outfit had to be ready 24/7. There was no maternity leave, private quarters, budding love affairs, and absolutely no unauthorized hunts. They had no families, or ties to any community, and if they were to die, no one, not even their teammates, would mourn their loss. The Secretary would lay no wreath on their unmarked grave, providing there was something left to bury.

“Attention!” the Sergeant shouted as the Captain entered the room.

They stood shoulder to shoulder in two neat rows of six. The Captain stepped to the small nondescript podium. He, like those before him, wore no identification. They all referred to him as The Captain because that’s what the Sergeant called him. If that was his true rank, they didn’t know and would never think to ask.

“At twenty hundred hours NORAD detected an atmospheric disturbance twenty miles north of Chicago, near the town of Waukegan. Yeah, that’s fifteen clicks from where we are.  Intel was able to pick up brief satellite images of what the analysts are calling…and don’t you dare laugh…an angel landing at a cheap roadside motel.

A few of the men visibly suppressed chuckles as someone in the back row whispered, ‘Because you can’t fuck in Heaven.’

“Anyway, this report comes less than forty-eight hours following a shoot out at a CITGO gas station where six Waukegan SWAT members were gunned down by… and I’m just reading it as I see it… a black cowboy, with a silver Colt revolver, who just wouldn’t die.”

“Excuse me sir.” A soldier near the end raised his hand.

“What is it, Oddball?”

“Seeing as how it's 2013, shouldn’t that be an African-American dressed in western wear, Sir?”

“Moving on. Local police indicate that the, African-American, suspect was killed at the scene and transported to the Lake county Coroner’s office, where at approximately 1200 hours the body disappeared. Now this is where it gets tricky. We have witnesses seeing a large black male enter the same motel hours before the light show started.”

The Captain laid his notes on the podium and stepped around it. “That’s the official report. Unofficially the brass is getting pressure from a high ranking council member for our unit to investigate the motel as soon as we’re prepped.”

“Excuse me, sir.” The Captain’s aide entered the room and handed him a note. “Thank you, Scott. Have my mobile command readied.”

The Captain turned to his men. “Our target is mobile. Intel reports he is likely headed to a private compound in North Chicago. This home belongs to U.S.  Senator Dick Devlin. He is a member of the Inner Circle and he is reported to be on grounds. We will pursue this possible terrorist, and attempt to intercept him before he gets there, failing that we will protect the
Senator at all cost. Gear up and move out.”

*******

The Bounty Hunter felt great being back behind the wheel of his Mustang, with the top down , driving south on Lake Shore drive. He felt even better having a pretty woman next to him. He liked the way the wind blew back her dark hair. The sun was on its way down. They both still wore their sunglasses and must have look like a wealthy couple out for an afternoon drive. He missed his old trench coat, but he had to admit, he kind of liked the Ralf Lauren Polo shirt Jessie bought him. She called it, grown man’s clothes. He called it comfortable. He asked her how much it cost and she replied, ‘nothing.’ For that matter when he inquired how she got the mustang back, she said, ‘I asked for it.’ Remembering the strange effect her voice had on him that night he didn’t doubt her.

With great difficulty Samuel stopped looking at her out of the corner of his eye and tried to formulate a plan for what lay ahead. One does not just ring the door bell of the Senior Senator of Illinois and then blow him away as he answers. This wasn’t some crack-pot fiction novel. In real life a U.S. Senator had major body guards and possibly on duty cops. He doubted there would more than that.

It was for that reason he did not mind the clothes Jessie got him or having a pretty, kind of white, woman at his side. That was another thing bothering Samuel. Last night he couldn’t tell what ethnicity Jessie was, but the more he looked at her in the daylight, the more Caucasian she appeared. Not that he had an issue with that. She is gorgeous no matter the color, he thought smiling to himself.

“Thank you, Samuel.” She rested a warm hand on his inner thigh. “I’m not really changing colors you know. It’s only how your mind is choosing to perceive me.  You want me to look more like a white woman so we can more easily blend in the Senator’s community and that’s how you now see me. Don’t worry; other people will see me that way too.” Her soft hand pressed down on his hardness, and his foot pressed on the gas.

With her unique brand of encouragement they arrived in North Chicago faster than expected.

“He has a large estate on the outskirts of the city. There aren’t many houses near his. The area is heavily wooded, so we may or may not be spotted as we approach. I suppose there are guards or even state police stationed on grounds.” Jessie stared at Samuel behind her dark glasses. If she was waiting for some sign of fear, she would have an eternity to wait.

“Are you fighting with me?” Samuel asked.

“I am forbidden from…”

“Sorry, I wasn’t speaking to you.” Samuel patted the Colt on his thigh. “It’s a habit.”

The Colt gave a slight buzz that Samuel had learned to take as a yes. For awhile during the drive he had his doubts that it would cooperate.  The gun had been silent since he bedded with Jessie last night.

“It’s just around this curve.” Jessie pointed to her left.  “Pull over here.”

Samuel eased the Mustang to the side. Jessie got out and walked toward the trunk. As Samuel exited to join her, his eagle eyes caught a glimpse of a black helicopter settling over the tree line with the setting sun. There was a nearby naval base, so he dismissed it and joined Jessie at the open trunk.

Inside, Samuel saw sights that made him wish he was a single man. Jessie reached in and pulled a dark bullet proof vest.

“You were so shot up last night I figured you could use this. I know you like the cowboy look, but you remind me of a knight and every knight needs armor.”

Samuel pulled off the nice feeling polo, and carefully stored it in the trunk for safe keeping, and then donned the vest.

“To replace the one you lost.” Jessie took out a new black leather trench coat. “I am sorry about ruining your last one.”

Samuel slipped on the heavy coat and sighed. It was a perfect fit. Before Jessie could go back in, he reached into the trunk and brought out a black Stetson. Samuel placed the hat on his head and felt a shiver run up his spine. He was back to his old self.

Before closing the trunk Samuel hit a side panel opening a secret compartment, inside he retrieve a few grenades and dropped them into his pockets.

“You never know.” He winked at the woman and shut the trunk. “What about you? When the bullets start to fly I don’t want you getting hit by accident.”

Smiling Jessie placed her hand on the golden angel charm hanging from her neck. “They will never see me coming.”She gave him a wink and then vanished before his eyes. “I’ll be right behind you every step of the way and don’t worry I can’t be touch while in this form.”

Samuel was used to people thinking he talked to himself; it was quite another experience to have a disembodied voice speak to him.

He rested his palm on the Colt, “Once more into the fray, old friend.” and then dived into the darkening woods. His plan was to circle around and enter the estate through the back undetected.

At least he thought it was a good plan.