Teri Woods - Angel's Revenge

“You wanna kill me, Roc? You want me dead? After all we been through?” Angel saw that Goldilocks was ready.

Angel came out from hiding, her gun lowered. “Here I am.”

Rahman slipped out from behind a beam and was about to squeeze off a shot when he felt a powerful thud in his upper back that slammed him face-first into the pavement.

It was Goldilocks. She had crept up behind him from the other end of the platform. Once Roc came out, he was so focused on Angel, he was a sitting duck for Goldilocks. But he had come prepared. The bullet crumbled on impact as it hit his Kevlar vest instead of penetrating his flesh.

Goldilocks was about to fire on Roc again, but Angel yelled out, “Goldi, behind you!”

Two police officers were at the top of the stairs. Angel fired over Goldi’s head and her bullets caught the cops dead in their tracks, dropping them to the floor. The distraction, however, was enough to give Rahman a chance to roll onto the tracks just inches from the third rail.

The platform rumbled as a train steamed in on the other side. Angel and Goldilocks jumped on the train.

“You missed me, Roc! But, I’m not gonna miss you. Holla back!” she yelled, holding her wound as the doors shut and the train pulled off.

Rahman sat with his throbbing back to the concrete wall, listening to Angel’s taunt. He had missed. Now all he could do was wait until she hollered back.

He struggled to his feet and disappeared down the dark tunnel, making his escape.

I’m going to miss you, Ms. Martin,” Susan, her secretary, confessed warmly.

They stood in Nina’s office among cardboard cartons waiting to be removed.

“Me, too, Susan. I know we got off to a bad start and all…”

“No need. It was all a misunderstanding. I know I can be a bitch sometimes. But we worked it out and that’s all that matters,” she said. “So what’s the plan? Got a better offer somewhere else?”

What is the plan? I don’t even know.

Nina didn’t have a better offer. In fact, she wasn’t looking for one. She had impulsively handed in her two weeks’ notice almost on the spur of the moment. She needed to get away.

After the breakup with Dwight, she tried to refocus on work but just couldn’t pull it together. She knew Dwight was perfect for her and she had been a fool.

So she had to get away. She felt it was her only choice. Her financial investments were sound enough to live off of. What wasn’t sound was her peace of mind. She knew the only way to move on with her life and be free of the ghosts of her past was to relocate. Maybe down south, maybe out west. But first, she booked a Caribbean cruise vacation. She would sail around the islands, figure out a plan for her future, and decide what she wanted out of life. Money wasn’t the issue. She had enough in savings to cover her relocation, and Nina didn’t have to work. She worked because it was what she had chosen to do with her life.

“Well, whatever you decide, I wish you the best,” Susan said, sensing Nina’s hesitancy to discuss her plans.

“Thank you, Susan. I really appreciate that.”

Susan walked to the door and put her hand on the knob. She turned around and faced Nina.

“Even though things didn’t work out with Dwight, I think you are a good person and you deserve the best. Don’t let disappointments make you not believe in rainbows. There’s a pot of gold for everybody. You just have to find it.”

I just have to find it? Yeah, maybe she’s right or maybe I just lost my pot of gold when I let Dwight go.

Susan walked out leaving Nina to ponder.

Three days later, Angel retaliated.

She drove silently in a blue Taurus rental and a blonde wig, her arm in a sling. Every time she moved it, she felt pain, and every time she felt pain, she thought of Roc.

Angel had to hate him. She had to despise him. She knew what she had to do, and the only way she could carry out what she had to was to let hate boil inside her. The look in his eyes on the subway platform played over and over again in her mind.

“Here I am,” she had said to him, stepping into his path.

Angel thought of how he hadn’t hesitated to raise his gun, eyes focused like a hawk’s, ready to shed her blood like she meant nothing to him.

Who the fuck is he? Fuck him! Fuckin’ sellout! she chanted in her mind, trying to convince herself that she hated him.

And, oh, how she wanted to. But something in her heart wouldn’t let her. Several times, she fought the urge to turn back. But pride pushed her forward as she headed to the conclusion of her mission.

Roc had to die, and she would kill him. But it wouldn’t be out of hate.

Angel hit the Trenton exit off the turnpike and drove through the city looking for the Muslim girls’ school on East State Street. She remembered Roc telling her about it in his prison letters and how good he felt at the accomplishment.

The school wasn’t difficult to find. The small brick building was on a corner, a playground and a parking lot in the back. At nine on a Saturday morning, only a few girls were in school for special Qur’an and Arabic lessons.

Angel had planned on attacking Ayesha first, but Roc covered his tracks well and protected her whereabouts. Even when she ran the plates of his car, her connect said the address was 25 Branford Place, the masjid in Newark. Angel settled on the next best thing.

His cause.

She knew how to get at Roc from the start but held her trump card, hoping she would never have to use it. When he made the fatal mistake of trying to kill her, she put it in play. The move was like everything else was to her. Business. Nothing personal.

Angel got out of the rental, threw on dark-tinted shades, and looked around. The area was quiet and peaceful. She adjusted her sling, which held a concealed revolver, and approached the school.

“Okay, Rasheeda. I want you to draw me alif,” the female teacher instructed. She wore an orange kemar and white niqab. On the floor around her were nine young girls between the ages of eight and ten, struggling to learn their religion.

Rasheeda, tall for her age, approached the board and took the chalk from the teacher. She drew a straight line that resembled the letter L.

“Very good, Rasheeda. Class, this is an alif. Say it with me. Al-lif.”

“Al-lif,” the class repeated.

“Alif is like the letter A in English. Can anyone tell me a word that starts with the letter A?” the teacher asked.

“Allah,” one girl said.

“Asad, which means lion,” another suggested.

“Angel.”

The teacher looked up to find a strange woman in an obvious wig, with a large golden dragon dangling from her neck, leaning with her arm in a sling on the inside of the door frame. She knew she wasn’t one of the girls’ mothers.

“Can I help you?” the teacher asked.

“I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment,” Angel requested politely.

The teacher looked at Angel then at all nine little faces.

“All… all right. Class, keep studying your lesson book.”

The teacher walked over to Angel. “How may I help you?” she politely offered, trying to mask nervousness behind hospitality.

“Please, don’t be nervous. I just need to meet someone here, and I need you to wait with me until he arrives,” Angel said softly.

“I… I don’t under…”

Angel slid the pistol out of the sling. The teacher gasped with fright. “Please don’t…”

“Shh…” Angel quietly silenced her. “Don’t alarm the girls. I won’t hurt you as long as you cooperate. If you don’t, I will kill everyone here.”

The statement was simple yet so menacing that the teacher knew the woman meant business. Her eyes glazed over with tears as she contemplated the safety of the children.