CHAPTER ONE

Wez groggily rose off the pull-out sofa when the alarm clock began beeping.  Yeah, best to be ready when Bubba arrived and he was annoyed since the damn red digits flashed forty-thirty in the fucking morning.  So he kicked aside the covers and stumbled to the kitchen to begin preparing coffee.  He grabbed the remote control to the t.v. and switched on the news.

"Rumors of death threats have been circulating.  Many are speculating this is the main reason for The Black Attack's cancellation of last night's concert in Los Angeles," the announcer said.  "Now for sports."

The rest of the news was lost to him as Wez filled the coffee with water and he turned on the machine.  Now the phone call from last night raced through his mind.  He recalled the deaths of the two singers from The Grim Reapers and Satan's Minions, both notorious metal bands.  And many were wondering if the murders could be the work of a serial killer.  Just then there was a knock at the door.

He left the kitchen and stumbled down the narrow hall, checking the peep hole.  Bubba was on the other side. So he flung open the door, motioning for his comrade to enter.

"I see much hasn't change about you," Bubba noted as he took in the distasteful bachelor apartment that could use a good cleaning.

Wez gave an amused growl.  Opposites.  They'd been in the pen together, cellmates to be more precise and he always summed Bubba up as gentleman evil.  Neither were much for words.  And whereas he acted on instinct, Bubba was a thinker, always carefully assessing a situation.

Bubba held a folder.  He was adorned in a three-piece suit and a long, wool, button-down coat.  His short, blond hair was neatly trimmed and his smooth face possessed a clean shave.  He hardly looked like a man who'd been up all night and flew in on the red-eye.

Yeah, even when Bubba had been second-in-command of the Zed Runners, he always stood out, looking every inch the polite gent.  Yet those hazel eyes that were so light in color, reminding one of warm whiskey told the story of this man.  Look into those eyes and one would see what lurked in that soul, what this man was capable of.

Wez led them into the kitchen and he was amused since Bubba still deftly took in the apartment, gazing at the cluttered desk where files were strewn about, the leftover t.v. dinners filling the coffee table and the mounds of dirty clothes scattered everywhere.

"I think our first order of business should be hiring a maid to clean this place," Bubba announced as he withdrew a chair from the table, flicked off a pile of clothes and took a seat, crossing his long legs.  He set the folder down.  "And I see I don't have to bother introducing you to my client since I'm guessing you already know everything about him."  For once he showed an expression, his jaw slightly slack as he eyed the numerous posters of Jesse Black on the walls.

Now Wez gave a grunt of disgust.  Shit, he should have taken down that stuff.  He felt sort of foolish since worshiping a teenaged metal singer was so unlike him.  And he didn't blame his comrade for being shocked since this did go against the grain.

But as usual, Bubba gathered his bearings, ignoring the dirty-secret he unearthed about his crony as he drew open the folder.  "Have a look while I get us some coffee."  He rose off the chair and headed for the counter.

Wez took a seat, flipping through the typed up notes about Jesse.  Now he gave a low snarl since he was gazing at a picture of the rock star and his girlfriend, a lethal model whose skeletal frame happened to be all the rage right now.

"He's as private as you are," Bubba said in a flat voice as he added the sugar and a good helping of milk to the mugs.  "The information you have on him is only for the public eye.  Read the notes I typed up and you'll know the real Jesse Black."

Wez nodded his head as he grabbed the memorandum.

To:  Ron Spector, President of Spector Specialists

From:  Bubba Zanetti, Chief of Security

Date:  January 22, 2004

Re:  Jesse Black, lead vocalist for The Black Attack

File:  X8000014

Classification:  Confidential

Currently, my two top men are overseeing files X800012 and X000013.  Now that we have another X classified file, I am unable to supply the above-noted with the proper security this case requires.  Therefore, I have taken on the responsibility of ensuring the safety of this client.  However, since he is on tour, I am unable to perform my other job duties since I've been accompanying file X8000014 wherever he travels.  This leaves our security department without a chief operator.  I am proposing we bring in another individual to oversee the protection for the above-noted.

I met with the client's manager, Ross Spellman, yesterday morning and after going over this individual's skills, background and previous cases, Mr. Spellman was in full agreement with my proposition.  He understands the importance of having all information supplied to this individual regarding the client in order to provide the best security possible. 

During our meeting, Mr. Spellman noted this individual would be privy to the following:

• Drug Use:  Cocaine;

• Sexual Orientation:  Gay, the girlfriend is a 'beard' and she's on The Black Attack's payroll;

• Vices:  Gay bars.

These three items pose a problem since the client's life has been threatened numerous times via telephone, email and letters.  While we provide security, it is imperative the above-noted refrain from indulging in any drug use and avoid the gay bars he likes to frequent.  If the client is allowed to continue pursuing these three items, he risks his own safety and my security person will not be able to carry-out the duties asked of him.  Mr. Spellman understands the importance of this request and he has agreed he'll ensure the client follows all orders given by this individual.

The individual I speak about is Vernon 'Wez' Cawston, a self-employed bodyguard who resides in New York City.  I have known Mr. Cawston for thirteen years and have total confidence in his ability to provide proper security.  We met in the penitentiary and before his incarceration, Mr. Cawston was the second-in-command of an outlaw biker gang known as the Dogs of War.  His duties as the war chief demanded skills in several areas:

• Tactical

• Combat

• Strategic

• Enforcement

• Security

Upon his release, he chose to use his numerous skills in a position that would aid others, hence his security business.  I feel this individual is the best equipped to oversee the safety of file X8000014.

I await your response to my memorandum.  Thank you in advance for a prompt reply.

Wez set down the letter.

"It's imperative Jesse follows all your orders.  Your biggest problem is going to be Adrian 'Cutter' Seal.  He's head of road security for The Black Attack and he's also Jesse's lover.  Cutter isn't too happy that Spellman brought in Spector Specialists to oversee the rock star's safety.  He took it as an insult, said bringing in outsiders questioned his capability to protect Jesse.

"Look through the bottom," Bubba added as he set down the mugs.

So Wez glanced over the emails and letters, along with typed out phone calls.

File:  X8000014

Information:  Email

To: jblack@tba.com

From: i_will_kill_you@outlaw.com

Date: January 12, 2004, 8:01 p.m.

Subject: die devil worshipper

god has called me once again to bring down those who sin.  sinner!  you want all to sin but god will prevail.  i heard his voice and he told me to kill jesse black.  you will die!  repent and sin no more!

File:  X8000014

Information:  Telephone call

Voice:  I will kill you.  You sin and lead all into sin.  God has spoken and you will die!  No longer will you lead the sheep astray!

File:  X8000014

Information:  Letter

i'm getting closer oh black soul of hell!  tonight i will kill you and everyone in the world watching your concert will see you go down in a shower of bullets!  die!  sin no more!  i will save the flock you lead astray.

"That was last night's letter," Bubba spoke up as he sipped at his coffee.  "I cancelled the show.  It was received fifteen minutes before The Black Attack was set to go onstage."

"This Jesse's personal email account?" Wez asked.

Bubba nodded his head.  "Don't get too wrapped up in the case.  Your job is to guard him and nothing more.  Let the private detectives Spellman hired do their work, along with the cops.  I just need you to ensure Jesse's safety."

Wez grunted.  "Trace done on ISP?"

"Of course," Bubba replied.  "And the stalker uses an internet cafe each time.  Everyone is already knee-deep in the case.  This lunatic has been to every concert and he always manages to find out which hotel Jesse is staying at.  Leads are already being traced.  It's been determined the stalker is flying and we pinned down a John Doe under many aliases who is patterning the same travel route as The Black Attack.  We believe Mr. Doe is using many disguises."

"This related to those two deaths - The Grim Reapers and Satan's Minions?" Wez inquired.

"Yes."

"I want the full file," Wez softly growled.

Bubba looked annoyed.  "I said I only need you to ensure his safety.  That's our business, nothing more.  Leave the other work to the cops and P.I.'s."

"Want file," Wez insisted.  "Cannot guard Jesse properly unless I know all about the stalker."

Bubba's eyes narrowed but he relented, nodding his head.  "Okay.  The full file is back in Los Angeles and I'll have a courier from our office deliver it to you.  Jesse's at my hotel with two bodyguards.  I do believe he's getting some sleep.  We're at the Plaza, room 1510.  You know the drill."

Wez gathered up the file.  "Give me two hours.  I read rest of file, shower and pack.  Where we go next?"

Bubba clasped his fingers together.  "Their next show is in San Diego.  You'll be flying on the Black Attack's private jet.  Be sure and wear a hat, and try not to arouse suspicion."

Wez gave a hissy laugh.

Bubba rose from the chair and headed to the door, lacing his fingers around the knob.  He glanced over his shoulder.  "It's good seeing you again," he softly said.

Wez gave a grunt.  Yep, nothing changed between them, business first and then they finally took the time to acknowledge one another.  "Good seeing you too.  I guard Jesse.  You know will not fail."

Bubba drew open the door.  "I know you won't.  Besides myself, you're the only person I trust to get this job done.  See you in two hours."  The door closed.

Wez turned and strode back down the hall, fingering the landing strip of hair that covered his chin.  Yeah, it was best to shave the mohawk down to the scalp so he'd look like any other roadie for The Black Attack. 

He poured himself another cup of coffee and took a seat at the couch, laying the file out on the table.  So Jesse was gay and getting it up the ass from Cutter.  He wasn't surprised.  It seemed as if everyone in Hollywood was banging the same gender and using the opposite sex as a beard.  Sure, in this day and age sexual orientation wasn't a big deal but when it came to the elite, those big named celebrities, gay could still tear down a budding career.  Yet, Jesse didn't strike him as a closet hider.  He had a good hunch it was Spellman and the band who hid the vocalist's sexual preference, seeing how the fair-haired rocker frequented gay bars.  After all, Jesse was their ace in the hole.  Yeah, if they were an established band, the singer's sexuality wouldn't be in question since those with solid careers were coming forward about their alternative lifestyle.  Yet, The Black Attack were young and rebellious, and having a gay sex symbol would not go over well with their fans.

As for the drug use, just hearing how Cutter was in a huff about Spector Specialists moving in on his territory spoke volumes.  Yeah, he'd bet it was Adrian Seal who introduced the rocker to cocaine, a means of control to ensure he'd never get kicked out of Jesse's bed.  He bet Cutter also accompanied the singer to the gay bars to ensure his lover didn't find someone else to tryst with.

Now he glanced over the portfolio of Adrian 'Cutter' Seal.

Age:  Thirty

Height:  6'5

Weight:  265 lbs.

Hair:  Black

Eyes:  Green

Notable markings:  Sleeve of tattoos on the right arm, double pierced ears and two inch scar on the left cheekbone.

Various jobs:  Bouncer at several nightclubs, security for a few rock bands and finally securing Chief of Security for The Black Attack.  It's been alleged Jesse appointed Cutter to the position after the band obtained a record deal.  Have been lovers since the rock star was only sixteen.

Wez rubbed his slight goatee.  He glanced back over the emails, numerous letters and telephone transactions.  Dammit, he needed the full file.  If he had the full file, he'd easily be able to piece together who the stalker happened to be.  Shit, since he had to guard Jesse, this would require outside work.  He reached over and picked up the phone, punching in the number.

Three rings and someone picked up.  "Hullo," came the low, sleepy voice.

"Ironbar, is Wez," he began, "need your services."

"Will be down right away," Ironbar replied.

Wez set down the receiver.  Yeah, good ole Ironbar Bassey could do the required tracking.  He didn't trust anyone but the bald, tattooed, stocky man.  The dude was from the streets and although many regarded Ironbar as a bit dense, he could follow orders.  The Bassey Boy was the man everyone called when it came to acquiring information.  Good ole Ironbar and that golden tongue could sweet-talk a priest into sharing all the confessions heard from parishioners.

 Well, it was best to get in the shower, pack and go over the file with Ironbar.  Then he'd head to the Plaza and meet Bubba, along with Jesse.  Now he rubbed his brow.  This was a job.  He couldn't allow his lust-filled feelings for the slight singer to surface.  Everyone was depending on him to keep the rock star alive, and most important, Jesse was counting on him too.

Next Page - Chapter Two