The Spectral Agent is my first full-length novel and an experiment. We are independent creators, publishing chapter by chapter as a podcast and text. It’s designed to be heard. We’d love to receive your feedback so we can tell stories better.
Continue reading for Chapter 9, start at Chapter 1, or find where you left off.
⚠️ Content Warning: This chapter contains violence, drowning, and murder.
Last time on TSA
I met Lenny at a diner to push the next phase of my plan. If I’m going to find out what the gang’s really doing with this so-called psychic kid, I need to get inside.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Lenny didn’t like the idea, but I gave him no choice. He’s vouching for me—and if this goes wrong, we both go down.
“Welcome to my life.”
Chai spouted some words of wisdom.
“Fucking, thug, Buddha.”
Compression socks, canes, and adult diapers aren’t what Viktor expected from a criminal empire. The polished storefront masks something colder, sharper, more dangerous. He wants to infiltrate the gang, but a misstep in the rain exposes more than just his cover. Chai wants to help, but is easily distracted.
Chapter 9
I arrived to meet Lenny on the sidewalk just as it started to rain. Dark clouds hid the sunset, and a crack of lightning lit up the sky. Lenny hurried inside. I enjoyed the rain, but I followed him in.
The automatic doors dinged pleasantly as we stepped inside. Crisp air washed over us, tinged with alcohol wipes and plastic packaging. Smooth jazz drifted from overhead.
Under bright LEDs, everything gleamed. Sharp, white walls framed rows of mobility scooters and canes. Rows of shelves displayed pill organizers and glucose monitors.
A medical supply store. Not your typical gang front. It didn’t match the grungy aesthetic I was used to.
“Wait here,” Lenny said, flicking a hand at me. He headed straight to a counter, behind which stood several rows of shelves with neatly stacked pill bottles. He leaned in to speak with a woman in a white coat—likely the pharmacist—his voice low and serious.
I drifted toward a rack of compression socks and therapeutic knee braces.
“Wow,” Chai said, appearing beside me with a mock gasp. “Ruthless underworld vibes. I mean, just look at all these adult diapers.”
I kept scanning the store and replied, "This isn't what I expected. Is this really a front for the gang?"
"High-ticket items, old people paying with cash. This is a perfect place to launder money," Chai said.
"You seem very excited about the potential. Sometimes I forget you're a criminal."
"Don't be a buzz kill, man. If you're gonna go undercover, you've got to get into their minds."
“I’ve already got enough people in my mind,” I quietly muttered, passing someone who looked old enough to be my great-grandfather.
“Don’t worry,” Chai advised. “They talk to themselves, too. You’ll blend right in.” He motioned his arms at the store. “Face it, Viktor, this place isn’t a front. It’s a gold mine.”
“Excuse me, young man?” a voice interrupted.
I turned to see a hunched woman squinting at me.
“Would you help me reach the anti-fungal cream? It’s just past the stool softener.”
Chai grinned. This woman had to be really short to ask me to reach for something. I cleared my throat, stepped over, and plucked the box from the shelf. “Here,” I said, handing it to her.
She looked at it, then at me. “This isn’t the good one. I need the kind with the tingle.”
Chai vibrated with restrained laughter. “Tell her you’re here to infiltrate a gang, not sell foot cream.”
What did tingly mean? I grabbed a minty-looking box and handed it over. She gave a slow, approving nod.
"You look quite pale, you might want to try some of this," she said, handing me iron supplements. "You'll need to add fiber to keep your bowel movements regular, too".
"Viktor, you're really starting to—" Chai gasped with laughter "—blend in with this gang."
Lenny’s voice called out across the store. “We’re good.” He waved me over. I stepped past the rows of back braces and orthopedic shoes.
Just before we reached the back hallway, he leaned in. “This is it,” he said, voice tight with tension. “Don’t screw this up.”
The mood changed as soon as we crossed the threshold.
The floors were polished, shining under sterile, blinding white light. We passed wire cages filled with sealed plastic barrels, stainless steel fridges, and racks of equipment I couldn’t identify.
Definitely not your average pharmacy stock room.
“Looks a little high-end for grandmas,” I commented.
Lenny gave me a glance. “Don’t ask questions.”
We kept walking.
✹✹✹
Off a loading dock, behind the supply racks, was where the real business was done. The space still smelled of antiseptic, but it was not filled with drugs for Grandma. Boxes lined the walls, and stainless steel tables divided the room. I expected to see digital scales for this type of operation, but what I didn't expect to see were the microscopes.
I still wasn't exactly sure what this gang's angle was. I didn't even know what they called themselves. All I had heard about them at the station was a few detectives working cases involving "gang activity".
I heard their leader and many of their ranks might be German. But I didn't think they had any ties to Germany. Now wasn't the time for second-guessing my plan, though.
We walked through to a meeting room. Now this looked more like a hangout—more lived in. A card table, leather couch, comfy chairs, and a kitchenette. Several hard faces glanced up at us.
I tugged at the earring nervously. "Oh look! Frogger!" Chai said as he wandered off to an old arcade machine in the corner.
I didn’t respond. My eyes were roaming the room, cataloging faces and details. How had I found this place in only a week when the police had been chasing leads for years?
I really needed to read more of the details in the file Zoe sent me. It seems like I've been managed. I haven't worked on any cases involving the gang, and I've never been sent undercover since I haven’t made detective yet. I guess it was good I hadn't because no one should recognize me.
But it's seeming more and more like the force is involved somehow. What did the Chief mean when he said "It's done"? Who was he talking to? He must have known an investigation into Olivia's death would have led me here.
“Who’s this?” a voice said, yanking me back to the present. A wiry man with a scar across his cheek approached, his eyes narrowing as he sized me up.
“A friend,” Lenny said quickly. “He’s looking for work.”
The man snorted. “Pretty short for a wannabe criminal. Why should we trust him?”
“Trust can be earned,” I said before Lenny could answer.
"That's an interesting accent. Russian? You Bratva?" the man asked. The others around him exchanged uneasy glances.
Lenny thought I was from a rival Russian gang. That ploy obviously wouldn't work here. It would just get me killed.
I didn't remember much about Russia, and Ukraine was too much in the news—everyone is an expert now. I thought of some place that speaks Russian but few in the US know much about. So, I said, "Belarusian, actually."
“Oh? Aren't you a little far from home?”
"This is my home now. Work was drying up in Belarus. So, why not come here and live the American Dream in New York City? The Big Apple, right?" I said, trying to play up the fresh immigrant act.
"For someone who just got here, your English is very good. Barely an accent."
I glanced at Chai over at the game machine, phasing through the screen and controls, trying to move a frog across a busy road. I couldn't tell if it was the game demo or if he was actually playing.
"Hollywood. I pirate a lot of movies. And I've been here long enough," I replied.
"There are plenty of places to work here. Why would you want to work with us?" He asked, looking down at me.
"I'm not exactly here legally. I used to move stuff across the borders in my country." I lied through my teeth. I've been a US citizen since I was a kid, but they didn't need to know that. I knew enough about smuggling from the police enforcement side to fake it.
“What kind of things?” the man asked.
“Electronics, guns, drugs. Even food. Whatever paid.” I shrugged like I’d told the story a dozen times in back alleys.
“And you just happened to find us?”
“I asked around, talked to Lenny. You’re not as invisible as you think.”
He pressed closer. “That sounds like a threat.”
I kept my expression flat. “It’s not. I’m just saying you’ve been a little too out in the open.”
He didn’t flinch, but the guys behind him shifted. I decided to push a little further.
“I’m not here to cause trouble. I want in.”
The tension in the air thickened as more eyes turned toward us. Then a sharp voice cut through the chatter.
“You sound like a cop.”
A woman stepped forward—severe, the kind of face that didn’t blink when blood hit the floor. The room tensed. Knives came out. One guy rested a pistol on his knee.
I kept my hands low, palms out. “No,” I said. “I wouldn’t be here if I was.”
“You sure talk like one,” she said, circling me. “Real calm. Real rehearsed.”
“That's what life next to Russia does to you.”
“Too clean. Too confident.”
I forced a bitter laugh. “You think cops send guys like me in first? Foreigner, no papers, no backup?”
She didn’t answer, just stared at me like she was calculating the most painful way to kill me.
The scarred man spoke up. “What would you have to offer?”
The woman sneered. “We should just kill him on the spot. Lenny, too.”
The rest of the room looked at each other with uncertain glances. As one, they got up from their seats. Now everyone had a gun in their hand.
I looked at Chai's apparition, no longer trying to phase his hands through the arcade controls. I thought back to what he said at the diner. “Don’t get yourself killed.”
“I’m here because I need work,” I said flatly. “I move things across borders. I know how to handle shipments. I don’t ask questions. I don’t panic.”
They didn't look convinced, but I was convinced Lenny and I would be dead soon.
"Don't panic?" the scarred man finally said. "I'd say so. Anyone who doesn't shit their pants when Mei calls for their death is stone cold."
"Is that all it takes to get in now, Joseph? Not shitting his pants?" said who I now knew was Mei.
Before Mei could stab me or Joseph could shake my hand and welcome me aboard—it seemed fifty-fifty at this point—an electronic shrill came from the corner. Chai was in crow form, phasing back and forth through the arcade, which seemed to be making it protest with beeps and boops.
Everyone looked at the source. Then, a commanding voice spoke from the back of the room.
“I’ll handle this.”
A tall man wearing a patterned brown suit stepped forward. The crowd parted for him like the tide, their loyalty and fear showing in their eyes.
“Klaus,” Lenny whispered, his voice laced with fear. “My boss.”
Klaus’s eyes assessed me, then he turned and walked towards the back as he spoke. “Follow me.” He gestured over his shoulder.
I hesitated but knew I didn’t have a choice.
The others parted as he led me through. “Let’s talk this out over a smoke.”
✹✹✹
When we got outside, the chill of the night air bit into my skin. The storm seemed to suffocate any light left in the dim sky. The rain was relentless, hammering against the metal roof of the loading dock like a machine gun.
Klaus stood by the doorway, lighting a cigarette. The flame sputtered under the assault of the wind, but he shielded it with his hand, taking a long drag before tilting his head toward me.
“Go on...”
He gestured toward the alleyway. Something about the way he said it set me on edge, but I couldn’t refuse and blow my cover. I walked down the steps into the alley, the rain pounding against my shoulders and pooling in the uneven pavement.
My thoughts were soon interrupted by Chai’s crow flying past me.
Then, everything turned upside down. My vision blurred, and I suddenly had a bird's-eye view. I could see... me, walking down the alley and stumbling from warped proprioception. I had a second to think, 'was this what Chai saw?' before I spotted Klaus, pointing a gun at the back of my head.
My awareness shifted back to my body, but I didn’t have time to consider what had happened. I just spun on instinct, twisting to see Klaus holding a gun straight to my face. I must not have heard him cock it over the sound of the rain. I lunged forward, my hand striking his wrist with all the force I could muster.
The gun flew from his grasp, skidding across the wet pavement before landing near a rain-filled ditch. Klaus yelled in frustration and dove toward the weapon. I didn’t give him the chance.
I tackled him, driving him into the ground. The rain turned the fight into a chaotic, slippery mess.
“You think you’re smart, huh?” Klaus growled, shoving me off him with surprising strength. “Thought you could just waltz in here and play us for fools?”
I said nothing, my focus locked on the gun. It was just out of reach, half-submerged in the muddy water. Klaus followed my gaze and pushed off the ground towards it. I grabbed his ankle and yanked him back. He hit the ground hard, the impact jarring him but not slowing him down.
“I know who you are, Levitsky!” He spat, his voice raw with anger. “You’re a cop with the NYPD!”
My stomach dropped. I had been too focused on investigating the gang to consider they would investigate me.
Klaus twisted his foot loose from my grip and kicked my chest.
“I just got off the phone with one of your police pals. They told me everything!” His voice was venomous.
I gasped for air as he scrambled toward the ditch. When my lungs filled, I surged forward. I tackled him again before he could reach the gun. We rolled across the pavement, the cold water soaking through our jackets.
Klaus fought like a man possessed, his fists landing hard and fast. He managed to punch me straight in the face. I could feel the blood seeping from my cheek, though it was quickly washed away in the rain.
Klaus broke free. He crawled toward the ditch with a feral determination. His hand closed around the gun. My heart skipped a beat.
“You’re dead, Levitsky!” Klaus screamed, his voice hoarse. “You hear me? Dead!”
I threw myself forward, colliding with him in a desperate attempt. We both slipped. His back hit the concrete ditch edge with a thud, all the air croaked out of his lungs. The impact flung his arms wide, the gun lost to the murky water.
His body broke my fall. He was more dazed than I was, at least I didn't lose my breath. I tried to push up off him, but it was so slippery I couldn't get any traction. He started to stir and reach for my throat. I shoved him backward, his head splashing into the ditch.
The dark water loomed beneath him. I didn’t think—I couldn’t. My body moved on instinct, finding his shoulders, pushing him under. He resisted, his fists slamming into my ribs, my arms, anything he could reach.
He thrashed against the water’s surface. “Stop!” I shouted, though I wasn’t sure if I was pleading to him or to myself. “Just stop!”
Klaus didn’t listen. He fought against the water, his hands clawing at my arms as I tried to hold him under. My heart pounded, my mind racing with a million thoughts I couldn’t fully grasp. I just wanted him to stop, but he wouldn’t.
He tried to scream, but water entered his lungs. His struggles grew weaker, his fists slowing until they finally stilled. His body went limp beneath my hands. He wasn’t moving. I froze, the realization hitting me.
“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling. I released him, my hands shaking.
I didn't mean to kill him.
Continue to Chapter 10.
