Common Enemy Volume 1: The Resolution

By Marc Jones

The Resolution is a coming-of-age story about a young mans evolution into a warrior when his life is paused by a potentially lethal melee. The consequences of betrayal, distrust, and weakness become the guidelines to his survival in an epic inter-personal war in which no one questions, How far is too far? Throughout his encounter with created and broken alliances, Ricks identity shapes itself from the ashes and his ever-changing ideals tip the scales in favor of who will win and what the consequences for defeat will be. Rick may be impulsive, short-sighted, and violent, but his life hangs on a quality that unifies manyperseverance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 19, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462825424

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Common Enemy Volume 1:

The Resolution

Marc Jones

Copyright © 2009 by Marc Jones.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

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Contents

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Richard Evan Neilson

Chapter Six

Leonard Vaughn Miller

Chapter Seven

Jesse Eve Gordon

Chapter Eight

Dr. Lee Daniels.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Volume 1 . . .

Even in the lack of light, he could still see the outline of a door across the room. This outline was disrupted when someone stepped in front of it and opened the door, only introducing himself as a shadow over a darker background. Rick tensed up when the man crossed the room and stopped just in front of him. The foolish question entered Rick’s mind. Does he know I’m here? He thought to himself. Of course he knows. The terse reality burdened on him. The figure fumbled for a second in his pocket and Rick could imagine what vile weapon of torture he was going to unleash.

The weapon was a lighter. A small lighter than could fit comfortably in his hands. The man lit the lighter and Rick was anything but surprised when he saw the man’s face . . .

Damn. He angrily scowled when he looked down and saw that he had torn his clothes horribly. He had even gone as far as to stain them with the red wounds from the constant scratching and cutting of the branches. He leaned his head back. No matter how hard he tried to inhale he couldn’t get enough oxygen. His lungs were burning. He needed to breathe and he felt like he couldn’t do that. He waited, scanning the skies fearfully. The helicopters were coming.

Coming to kill him . . .

It’s the kind of thing a guy like you will need. He folded his arm in pride. It was almost like he was giving away his daughter to a worthy husband. Leonard ran his hand up and down the steel handle. He wanted to try it out. Though he wouldn’t actually shoot, he wanted to at least aim, but he would never do anything like that in front of another person.

How much do I owe you?

I don’t think you need to worry about that.

You’ve got to want something.

I want to see if you can survive the rest of the night. Roger said, laying a hand on Leonard’s shoulder. If you can do that, we’ll talk about the price.

The Enemy . . .

He had learned of human behavior such as forgiveness and compassion, but if he hadn’t heard about it from someone else, he’d never have learned of it. They were both foreign ideas to him.

Introduction

You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you? The Defense Attorney took his glasses off and massaged his brow for a moment, and then he leaned forward over the table. The interrogation room was cold and damp. It was no place anyone would want to be at that hour of the night, but he had to do his job. He had to bear through it. He lifted a bottle of water from his bag and held it before the suspect, asking, Would you care for a drink? The suspect was young and dark-skinned. He looked to be a very handsome young man, but he also appeared strong and hot-tempered. That combination always spelled trouble in the area.

And this suspect, young though he was, was no stranger to the police station. In his heavy southern drawl, he quietly answered, Nope.

Alright then. Now we can talk about what happened to you. The DA, Daniel Yong clasped his hands together. The black boy sitting across from him looked roughed up. He was missing his shirt and his jeans looked like he’d been rolling around in the dirt, but even despite this, something told Yong that this boy wasn’t the victim. He didn’t look capable of being anyone’s victim. He was young, but something about him made Yong uneasy. Very uneasy. Yong directed his attention down to the ratty clipboard in front of him.

So you’ve been in this police station before, Mr. . . . Neilson?

Yeah. A couple times.

It says here that you were booked quite a few times for fighting. I’m guessing by your appearance that this time is the same. Yong concluded. The whole while he spoke, he felt the boys eyes watching him closely.

Am I gonna go to jail? The suspect questioned impatiently. Yong sighed, weighing his options. It was late at night. He had a family that he wanted to get home to. He had kids he wanted to read bedtime stories to. He was anxious to put the night behind him, so he folded his arms in front of him and matched the kid’s fierce stare.

How old are you?

I’m fourteen.

How many times have you been in here?

I dunno . . . Am I goin’ to jail?

Yong picked his clipboard off of the table and slipped it into his briefcase. I’ll do you a favor, Neilson. I’m going to let you go, okay? But you have to promise me something. You can’t show up in here again. I’m taking a risk letting you back out of here, so don’t make me regret it. Yong half-expected to see a smile, but he quickly wondered if this being before him was capable of smiling when he saw the hardened expression he was faced with.

Almost like an after-thought, the boy thanked him. Yong was preparing to signal for the guards to enter the room and remove him when he suddenly realized a peculiarity that he had missed before.

You go by the name of Rick?

Yeah. Why?

You wouldn’t happen to be the nephew of Greg Williams would you? Yong didn’t get an answer, but he didn’t need one. He’d heard of Greg Williams taking his sisters son under his wing and possibly failing at changing him. Yong didn’t blame him for not answering. He’d hate to have to admit to that title himself if he were in this kid’s position. He sat and apprehensively scanned the room for a moment after buzzing for the guards. After a minute or so of listening to the air conditioner hum lightly into the room, Yong was prompted to stir up some sort of exchange between them.

So . . . while we wait . . . got any hobbies? Yong asked.

I box . . .

Obviously.

 . . . and I play some football . . .

Oh, really? That’s a good hobby to have. It could get you into a good college. You look like a football player. Yong congratulated. Rick nodded, but he didn’t add anything more. He wasn’t a remarkable conversationalist. Yong was all but disappointed when the guards finally arrived.

Take him to get checked out, alright? Yong ordered to the guards.

You sure about that, Yong?

Yeah. Yong dismissed them swiftly. Just as they exited the room, Yong added, Try to stay out of here, Rick. This is no place for a kid like you.

Chapter One

Five Years Later. . .

Excuse me, Dr. Daniels. Gregory Williams wants to see you. He says that you two have spoken over the phone. A woman of small stature stood at the door with one hand full of folders and the other, rested comfortably on the door frame.

Dr. Lee Daniels looked up from his computer screen-just for a second-then looking back at the screen responded, Let him in, Erica. Less than a minute later, he looked up from the computer again to see his employee, Gregory Williams, standing at the door. But he wasn’t alone. Standing before him was another young male. Dr. Daniels immediately sized him up. To Lee, he looked scruffy and unkempt. At a second glance he recognized who the boy was by the past description he’d been given.

This must by Rick. Dr. Daniels pushed away from the computer and extended his hand to formally greet him. Rick didn’t return the handshake, but Dr. Daniels continued the greeting as if he had.

I’m sorry to be a bother you Lee, but in the year that I’ve worked here, this job has really been beneficial to me. I know you don’t usually do this, but I want you to allow him to volunteer at CFA. Greg didn’t sound as if he’d been pleading, though that was the nature of the visit, and this gave Dr. Daniels the impression that Greg was sure about this decision.

What is he good at? Though Dr. Daniels asked, he assumed the answer would be ‘nothing,’ or if there was an answer it would amount to nothing.

Greg grinned. Where should I start? For one, he’s much smarter than any other nineteen year old you’ve ever meet. He’s good with electronics and could really relate to your clients.

Dr. Daniels was wrong. These were very good references to have. On the other hand, this man was talking about his own nephew—his sister’s son. At the expense of sounding offensive, you are his uncle. I’d like to try him out for a few days. He redirected his attention to the youth.

How does that sound? Just think of it like an internship. Rick, again, didn’t respond.

Pardon his rudeness. I had to drag him down here, but I’m sure he’ll thank me for it later, Greg started to explain, but Dr. Daniels interrupted,

No problem. I’ll take good care of him.

After a brief dismissal, the teenager was left alone with the founder of the organization, Dr. Lee Daniels, a man he’d been hearing about non-stop for a few years.

You don’t do much talking do you? Dr. Daniels began as he took his seat at the computer again. Rick stood by the door in the stance he’d been in since he’d arrived, continuing to maintain his decision to be silent.

I guess I’ll fill you in on the CFA Organization. I started this company eleven years ago; however it has been during the last five years that it has expanded into what it is today. CFA stands for Citizens Fighting Abusiveness. Whether it be domestic violence or violence between inner city youths, we aim to bring as much of an end to it as possible. CFA currently has eighty-three regional offices across the United States, over two-hundred local offices, and we plan to double those numbers in the next year and a half, if not triple it. Any questions? Dr. Daniels folded his arms and waited for a response. He didn’t get one, but he didn’t expect one either. He was about to continue with more details about CFA when Erica walked into his office again.

There’s a problem with the printer downstairs. Should I call a . . . She paused when she saw Rick standing by the door. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still busy. She was about to close the door, but Dr. Daniels stopped her.

Wait a minute. He’s our newest volunteer. Meet Richard Neilson.

Erica shook his hand then looked back at Dr. Daniels. We have a lot of papers to distribute and the printer won’t fix itself.

Before Dr. Daniels could come up with a suggestion, Rick spoke up. I can fix it.

Erica looked cynically at him, then to Dr. Daniels for approval.

Why not? Dr. Daniels responded in his regular jovial tone.

Erica was not at all thrilled at the sight of the new volunteer, but as she had said already, the printer wouldn’t fix itself. She led him toward the printer and as he began to fix it, she started to sum him up according to her own standards. She wasn’t a fan of the plaits in his hair. She hated the oversized jacket and jeans, but she awarded him a plus for the nice sneakers. She stood by the door quietly and continued to analyze her new co-worker. He was around six feet tall and from his muscular build, probably played a few sports in high school. Overall, he looked the type of kid who grew up in the slums and stay there.

It’s done, he said as he double checked everything, not yet looking up at her. Erica looked at it, hoping to see a difference, but didn’t find one.

What did you do? she asked, still checking the machine.

I shook the toner cartridge a little and put it back, he said, still not looking up at her.

How did you figure the toner needed to be shaken?

The prints in your hand were light, he said to her, already walking out of the room. Duh! She thought, secretly wanting to kick herself. She had shaken the cartridge dozens of times before. She couldn’t believe that she didn’t have the presence of mind to try again.

She waited until he was gone to check the prints. They were light and it was almost a matter of common sense for someone who had worked there for two years, and operated the machine many times, to know to check the toner.

Rick walked back into the office and this time, he sat down.

You fixed it? Dr. Daniels asked, his eyes still glued to the screen.

Yes.

Yes, sir, he corrected him then turned to face Rick. Lee Daniels had a lot that needed to get done, but he wanted to at least stir up a mild conversation before getting back to the countless hours of working. So, your uncle seems to think that you will benefit from volunteering with us. What did you do to make him think you needed guidance? Before Rick could even say a word, Dr. Daniels judged his body language and concluded that his response was not going to be anything nice.

After high school, I really couldn’t find anything to do. I just went wherever the wind blew, but I never really did anything bad. It was a lie.

I find that hard to believe. Nothing happened to make you want to turn your life around? Lee got the feeling he was treading on thin ice by going into someone’s past, but it was better than the glooming silence he’d have to ignore otherwise.

I got into a few small fights. Nothing major. No weapons involved. That also wasn’t true, but Rick kept going with it. I guess my uncle thought I was going to get myself into some major trouble.

Dr. Daniels knew the story wasn’t entirely true. Unbeknown to Rick, he had the advantage of knowing when he was being lied to. With this on his side, he decided to act as if he bought the story, just so he could get more information. A few fights with no weapons involved are pretty typical. Nothing wrong with that. You don’t have any friends he might not like seeing you with? This time Dr. Daniels saw a smile, which would have been hard to imagine only a few moments earlier.

Two, actually. Tom and Robby. We been knowin’ each other for a while, since like . . . forever.

Lee nodded as if he was sincerely interested. Well, I have some important business to tend to and you need to get familiar with the building, he said reaching for the phone. I’ll ask Ms. Erica to show you around.

Erica came into the office and when Dr. Daniels instructed her to show Rick around, she looked at him with an expression that said, I’d rather not. But after Dr. Daniels returned his, I don’t care expression, she faced Rick with an insincere smile. Well, I guess we’d better get started.

How are you feeling about volunteering for the center? Greg told me it would be a good idea for you. Ms. Debra Mae carried a plate of pancakes and sausages to the table and placed it in front of him. It had been two days since Rick began volunteering at the CFA Center. After taking a seat at the table as well, Ms. Debra Mae leaned over and kept her eyes locked with his. It was her way of saying she wanted an answer.

It’s alright. I might as well do it, anyway. His answer was like a retort for being dragged down to the center in the first place. The truth was he didn’t have a choice. However, Ms. Debra Mae knew that already.

Greg doesn’t mean no harm. He just wants to make sure that you don’t get into any more trouble. Ms. Debra Mae could sense the hostility Rick had been harboring towards Greg. He and his uncle Greg were as close as a nephew and uncle could be, but when Greg found out about some of the things Rick had gotten himself into, he literally barged into Rick’s room and forced him down to CFA.

Rick didn’t want to say anything else about the subject, so he started eating. She watched him, still wanting to explain to him why Greg made him volunteer, but Rick wouldn’t give her the opportunity. His attitude suggested to her that he didn’t care, so she ended up watching silently as he ate.

Can I give you a ride to the office? she asked him when he was finished with his breakfast, hoping that he would yes so they could talk on the ride there.

No, thanks. That was usually his response. Ms. Debra Mae stood by the sink and gave him a tight, warm hug as he got ready to leave.

Don’t you go getting yourself into no trouble now. Though she warned, it was evident by then that her warnings yielded no effect, it only gave her peace of mind.

Ms. Debra Mae followed after him onto the front porch and watched him the whole while as he walked to his car and drove away. She had lectured him a million times about his appearance. She told him that the way he dressed gave people an idea about the type of person he was. She didn’t like his appearance. She felt he was a very handsome young man, but he simply didn’t dress like a decent individual. Despite her feelings, she had become passive about the issue years ago.

In his rearview mirror, Rick could see her standing on the porch as he drove off. That part of the day was like a ritual-up until he left the driveway that is. After that everything was an option; no matter what the consequences may be. Too many options was the reason why he was in the predicament he was currently in.

Rick pulled into the parking lot of CFA and took his time entering the building. He was told that instead of having an office to go to everyday-like the employees had-he would have to sit in the lounge. Erica worded it to sound like a privilege, but he wasn’t that dumb. He knew it was a matter of saving offices for the important people. He also knew Erica wasn’t very fond of him. But her plastic smiles and empty courteous gestures led him to believe she thought she had him fooled. She really underestimated him.

Rick went to Dr. Daniels’ office, and there he found the doctor seated comfortably in his leather chair, reading over a portfolio. Rick closed the door loudly to announce his presence.

Oh. Hey, I didn’t see you there, Rick. Dr. Daniels only looked up for a brief moment and then he was fixated on the portfolio again.

What’s that? Rick asked as he strolled into the room.

Dr. Daniels sighed heavily. This particular client has been under the radar. I used to see her a lot. I think she’s avoiding the center. Dr. Daniels took a few more seconds to look at the client’s portfolio then directed his attention to Rick.

I’m going to need you to report the visitors today. If people ask for me, come and give me their names, and I’ll tell you whether or not to let them in. Dr. Daniels’ focus had drifted off of Rick and onto his work before he had even finished his sentence. Rick nodded, though Dr. Daniels wasn’t looking at him, and he left the room quietly, unlike the way he had entered.

Dr. Daniels had many people in high status visiting him regularly, so it came as no surprise to Rick that after having spent only fifteen minutes seated at his desk, he was being interrogating by a tall stranger who felt adamant about meeting with Dr. Daniels immediately. Rick was having a hard time getting the information he needed to report him to Dr. Daniels, as he was instructed. Irritably, he argued with the persistent stranger.

I can’t allow you in there until you give me a name and tell me why you need to speak to him, Rick insisted.

I’ve never had to give my name just to speak to someone. Do you know who I am? The gentleman straightened himself up and arrogantly snapped at Rick as if he was insulted by having to leave his name. I don’t have to explain to you why I’m here. That’s frankly none of your concern. Now move so I can have my appointment with Dr. Daniels.

The man was belligerent and Rick decided that he wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer. He was about to signal for security to remove the man from the premises, but Dr. Daniels overheard the struggle from his office. He slowly peeked out and saw the man Rick was arguing with.

Rick! Rick. Wait a minute, I know him. Dr. Daniels silently cursed the visitor, Ness Baker, for being so difficult.

Seriously Lee, you don’t need to hire these street hooligans. I say you leave them around and let them smoke themselves to death or shoot each other. There would be less criminals running around. Ness Baker was unyielding in continuing the exchange between him and Rick, but Dr. Daniels ended the dispute quickly.

Ness, this isn’t a street hooligan. This is my newest assistant and he’s right. Before you come into my office, you have to answer some simple questions. It’s a security measure. Dr. Daniels found that reasoning with this particular man was impossible.

"Bullshit! I’m the Ness Baker! I handle the important issues in this God-forsaken city, but I wouldn’t expect this nappy-headed drug-dealer to know that!"

Rick stood at the desk, clenching and unclenching his fists. He would’ve loved to hop across the desk and shove his foot down Baker’s throat, but he was in CFA. It seemed inappropriate, however; he still had to reason himself out of it. Dr. Daniels tried to silently coax the portly man into his office, but Rick could hear the insults directed at him the whole time.

What kind of gun-toting bastards do you allow in here? He doesn’t know a damn thing about the politics in his own city. He can’t look at me and tell who I am? You should send him on his merry way on out . . . The words of Baker became inaudible when the door was shut. Dr. Daniels purposely closed the door to prevent Rick from hearing what else was being said.

Rick sat down in his chair and folded his arms, still trying to hear what was going on in the office. It soon became evident that they were arguing. Rick leaned back closer to the door. He could barely hear what they were discussing. The actual words being said were impossible to make out, but Rick could gather by the tone that this argument was no longer about him. Ness Baker had come to CFA because he had a bone to pick with Lee Daniels.

Rick calmly decided to go back to doing his work, which was easy once he began concentrating on separating the papers on his desk into different folders. He had almost forgotten about the feud that was going on between Dr. Daniels and Ness Baker when suddenly he saw a security guard racing up the steps toward the office.

Rick watched idly as the security guard pushed open the door, unleashing the angry sounds to be heard by everyone near the office.

I invest too much money in this damned organization for you to be half-assing it, Daniels! I’m two seconds away from cutting your funds, so you better get it together before I shut this place down and sell it! Baker was clearly prone to arguments and Dr. Daniels could all but soothe his own rage.

Do you want me to take him out of here? The guard sounded like he wanted Dr. Daniels to give him the ‘okay,’ but Dr. Daniels declined. He didn’t want Baker to leave CFA with a negative impression. As an alternative, he tried to calm him down, replying tiredly, I work hard. I know that some people aren’t crazy with how CFA is operating, but we are definitely working on it. And you barging in here and raising hell doesn’t do anything, but waste valuable time.

Dr. Daniels had managed to defuse the fury Mr. Baker had brought into the room and after rethinking his actions, Mr. Baker calmly apologized for his behavior. Rick was surprise to see Mr. Baker talking without raising his voice, so an apology was astonishing. Mr. Baker straightened up his jacket and summarized his entire visit in one remorseful sentence.

I just want this CFA Center to do a better job. I don’t like feeling like I’m wasting the city’s money. He stood in the room for a few more seconds, wondering if he had