UNDERCOVER

Chapter 3 - Skull Society

As he took a sip from his cup, a figure walked up to him taking a seat on the empty chair by his right. Resisting the urge to glance over, Ansel took another sip before dropping his now-empty glass. His gaze fixed ahead at the cabinet behind the counter.

"Hey, Noah," a soft voice sounded, and he raised his brows as a scoff escaped his lungs.

"Seriously Matteo? You think you get to sit with me?" he asked glancing at the newcomer. A young man in a pristine brown suit, his hair slickly fully down his right side in style, perhaps with a little too much gel.

"Well, I mean, with JaQ missing, Alisa arrested, and Bayo still in recovery, I'm the next big thing. But that's none of your business, I guess," the young man named Matteo replied, looking straight ahead as if not feeling Ansel's stare.

"Damn straight" Ansel nodded deeply turning to wave over the bartender.

"I guess that's fair," Matteo agreed, glancing down at the glass he'd brought with him.

"Thing is Noah, without JaQ's protection, you are just a cook. You know what happens to a cook in these streets, don't you?" Matteo continued, his cool voice irritating Ansel to no end. This pretty boy was not only insufferable, handsome, and masculine, he had a good brain in his head. His only downside would be his hairstyle.

"That a threat?" Ansel asked.

Tsk

Matteo clicked his tongue, "No brother, an offer. I take you off the streets, you work for me. Same terms with JaQ, but you make twice the product." Matteo glanced around the bar with a subtle frown.

"Twice? Ho ho, someone's got ambition" Ansel laughed.

"Too bad Matteo, I don't work under pressure. And, you got good sense but your boys are junkies. I don't trust them." he made to rise.

"Hey, hey, slow down there, doc." Matteo placed a hand on his arm to stop him from getting up.

"You'll think about it, yeah?" he asked, glancing at Ansel for the first time, his gaze intense with threat in his eyes.

Taking a moment Ansel returned the stare a while before nodding causally and forcing his way up. Tapping Matteo on the shoulder, he sauntered away.

Later at night, Ansel returned to his motel. He paused by his room door observing the fringes for the hair he put between it and the tape for any signs of tempering. Satisfied, he opened the door and walked in, locking it behind him as he did.

Dropping his keys in a key bowl, he walked towards the bed and studied it for a while before pulling it over to the left side of the room. Taking a knife from his boots, he pried open the floorboards to reveal a square-sized hole within which held a few bundles of cash, passports, a gun, and a burner phone.

Dialing a number from memory, he raised the phone to his ear as the dial tone sounded.

"Where are you?" the call was answered and a cold voice asked.

"My rented apartment, why?" Ansel replied nonchalantly.

"What was with that s**t show today? I thought you wanted to come in?" the voice asked again.

"The drama with Bayo and JaQ raised a few eyebrows, I had to do something"

"Yeah, well, next time, maybe consider putting us in the loop, huh?"

"No can do," Ansel replied, his tone still as casual as when the conversation started.

"Listen, you know it, and I know it, that not everyone in the department is straight. I needed things to be as real as it gets. Now every crook knows I'm on your radar which means I don't got to prove my credibility every goddam time." his tone turned a little serious.

"You sure this isn't just to prove to the Captain that she's got no leash on you? Ansel, don't screw with me" the person on the other end wasn't buying his claims.

Ansel let out a long disappointed sigh.

"Well someone said at the beginning that I'll have trouble adapting to life as a police officer and worse as an Undercover Agent. Well, here's me taking the initiative, something that goes against my instincts. Shouldn't I be getting some praise here? All that s**t aside, I got you Alisa. That's a big deal, I should be getting another golden ticket right about now"

The agitation in his voice probably surprised the other person because there was no reply for a long while until the Captain's voice came on about a minute after.

"So you wanted to prove me wrong, huh? Congratulations, I was wrong. Do you know the situation you're in? Sure, you've proved your credibility, but you've lost both the protection of Alisa and JaQ. You're just a cook on the streets with a damn good formula that no one can imitate. Ansel, you are the perfect slave. Every dealer in the region will be hunting for you and if someone gets you another just might kill you"

Ansel paused for a moment, holding his breath as the realization dawned on him and he massaged his forehead in annoyance.

As if sensing his agitation, the Captain continued.

"You've got only one card left Ansel. Go back to the beginning and rewrite your character."

"Skull Society, Alisa just might kill me" Ansel groaned.

"Well she's locked up right now, so get in touch with our UC there, get hooked up, and get out. We're keeping watch on her but I have a feeling Alisa won't be staying locked up long."

Putting the phone back in the hole and everything back in its place, Ansel lay on the bed, his eyes distant as he stared at the ceiling. His mind drifted back to his first day as a UC.

***

Seven years in active military service taught Ansel that the media's portrayal of military life was quite distant from reality. And when it wasn't? When all the details aligned, it still could never really capture the emotions of the soldiers as they navigated life behind a rifle. Sometimes the TV came close. . . sometimes.

Given his experience, one would think that he would keep an open mind about the police but for some reason, he had expected the criminal and law enforcement world to be just like TV told. Perhaps he felt that with the media and people being closer to law enforcement than the secretive Army, they would have a better idea of how law enforcement and crime worked. How wrong he was.

His first day undercover was a real eye-opener. He was to be introduced to the dark side of the world by a deep undercover agent working for an unnamed intelligence agency. It was all his Case Officer had told him.

The meetup happened during the day, the first surprise. Thanks to the veteran UC agent, he was invited by the Skull Society to have lunch.

Unlike in television shows, there were no guards with guns standing around, it was a quiet family of six. A white-haired man looking to be in his mid-sixties, three young women and two men ranging from the ages of 17-30.

After lunch came the introduction. He had seen a lot of weird things in the many hot zones he had been to, but he'd never expected to experience something like this back home, too.

"Mr. Elrod, Davis here tells me you served together in the army?" the white-haired man asked.

Given his years of military-honed instincts, his Case Officer thought it wise to give his character a military background. But they'd created a different history for him.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, glancing at the veteran UC Davis and wondering how long he had invested to get this deep into Skull Society.

The white-haired man shifted, his head shaking side to side.

"Call me Master Skull as all others do" he spoke slowly, his voice gruff and a little grating to Ansel's ears.

Seeing Ansel nod, the old man continued.

"Hmm, you see, more than three years of satisfactory service, and Davis never asked for anything. Until a week ago, when he said his army buddy was struggling with life back home," there was a peculiar tone in his voice when he said the words 'army buddy'.

"You see, I don't lack Officers, my boy. Anyone can wield a gun with enough training. And I don't trust you enough to involve you in the blood business, so I don't have any use for you." The old man stared at Ansel as if to see his reaction, but Ansel simply shifted on his feet without any change in his expression.

"See, I could have rejected my dear Davis, but I didn't want to disappoint him, so I thought to see you face to face."

Ansel almost cursed out loud. What was the difference? Wouldn't this rejection disappoint Davis anyway? Was the Skull Master always this hypocritical?

"Sir, Noah isn't really a good shot, but he has uh- other skills. " Davis, the veteran UC, an unremarkable man (by appearance), stepped forward at this time.

"Does he?" the old man relaxed on his chair by the head of the table, his eyes fixed on Ansel, the guest he invited to lunch only to have watch him and his 'children' eat.

"Then maybe my kids will have some use for him"

It was the last time Ansel met the Skull Master in person. His eyes subtly followed the man as he walked away, his gait steady despite his advancing age.

"You have keen eyes," a melodic voice returned his attention to the dining table.