A Reason To Believe Chapter 13
Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.
A Flip x OC Fic
Word Count: 2,947
Warnings: mentions of
When you're weary, feeling small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all, all
I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
(x)
The one advantage he now had was control over his narrative.
The only people who had a clue to his real identity were dead now. He planned what he would say on the drive back, taking the time to consider all angles that could pop up. He was sure Connie could throw a wrench in things, but that was a risk he’d have to take. He rushed back to the steakhouse, finding the remaining members still socializing on the grounds. The women had moved to a different room, leaving the men to shoot the breeze and smoke cigars. They were laughing at a joke someone had just told as Flip burst back into the room.
"Hey, where'd you run off to? It's been hours," Walter asked.
"Felix and Ivanhoe went rogue. I tried to stop them but—“
"They went what?" Walter's voice rose. "Mr. Duke, please excuse us, there's been an issue,"
“No, I'd like to be apart of this. Is everything okay?" The leader asked.
Flip motioned for them to follow him out of the room and they obliged. They stood in the hall and he did his best to look upset.
"Two of our members weren't in compliance with the organizations morals. They wanted to incite violence and chose to target the local Black Student Union," He explained.
"They had an explosive device that they were going to set off at the Black Student Union’s headquarters. I found out about what they were trying to do and tried to talk them out of it but they wouldn't listen. They took off and I tried to catch up with them but I was too late,"
"Did they kill anyone?" Walter asked. "I mean our creed is nonviolence but did they at least, you know, succeed?"
"When I got there, the house was fine but their car was on fire. I—I think—“ He didn't finish his sentence, letting them put two and two together.
Duke closed his eyes and sighed. Walter looked defeated.
"I tried to get closer, but the police were arriving and I had to get out of there. I got back here as soon as I could,"
"Thank you, your service is appreciated," Duke said, clasping his shoulder. "It's always a sad day when brothers die for their cause,"
"They were good men," Flip agreed, lying through his teeth.
"Was Connie with them?" Walter asked.
"She was but survived, she was taken in to custody I think. I don't know if anything like this has happened before but should we take care of their house for them? Maybe get rid of anything that could incriminate us? I mean with Mr. Duke running for office we wouldn't want this coming back our way,"
"That's good thinking. I'll wrap things up here and meet you at their place in an hour. If the police start poking around, call me from a payphone and we'll re-group," Walter agreed, Duke nodding along.
"It was an honor to meet you sir," Flip shook the leaders hand firmly.
"You're doing great things for this organization, Stallworth. A natural born leader if you will," Duke responded. "Take care out there,"
He said his goodbyes and dashed out to his car. He had already ensured that no officers would be poking around the house yet. He wanted to see if any evidence could be gathered for his case before the rest of the station swooped in.
He parked his car on the Kendrickson’s street, looking around for any neighbors before walking to the side of the house. He checked for an unlocked window, something people commonly forgot to do in the nicer parts of town, and found one right near the kitchen. He slid it open and squeezed his long frame through, stumbling as his foot found purchase on the hardwood floor.
He closed the window after him and began to look around. The house was still. It was hard to imagine that half of the people who lived in it were now dead, and the other half was headed to jail. The only sound in the house came from the ticking clock in the kitchen.
He walked around, taking a brief glimpse at how the house had come to a stand still. It still looked lived-in. Boots by the front door, unlaced and on their sides. The daily mail sat on the kitchen counter, not yet opened. The main level of the house looked normal enough, practically a piece of Americana. All of the klan paraphernalia was stored in the basement.
As he opens the door to the cellar and begins his journey downstairs he's reminded of the first time he came to this house. How Felix had taken him downstairs and held a gun to his head, trying to make him take a lie detector test. His stomach sank as he saw the same test still sitting on the small table. He reminded himself that was over, he'd never be in that situation again.
His eyes swept over the rest of the basement. There were a few guns, some old tool boxes and a lot of junk. He wouldn't have time to dig through it all. He'd only have about twenty minutes until Walter showed up, he needed to get what he needed and get out.
He rifled through a few boxes, looking for any proof. He became increasingly frustrated, each box containing nothing of use.
He'd wasted ten minutes and found nothing. He didn't have time for this shit. He tried to think of where else in the house there could be anything. He thought of the bedroom, maybe they stuffed something up there.
He headed back upstairs, leaving everything approximately where he'd found it, shutting the door behind him. He started up the staircase, finding the bedroom at the end of a small hallway. The bed was made and the room was nicely decorated. Connie's doing, probably. He started opening dresser drawers, looking under piles of clothes. Nothing. He tried the closet, shoving his hands into the pockets of shirts and coats. Just some shopping receipts in Connie's pockets.
He stopped himself from yelling in frustration. He needed proof for this investigation, something that would show concrete proof of their involvement beyond some snapshots and recordings. He looked toward the immaculately made bed. He crouched down to check under it, met with nothing yet again. He hit his head pulling out, cursing this whole operation. He drive his fist into the floor, an attempt to get rid of his aggression.
The floorboard knocked out of place.
He looked down, it was dark under the bed but he could just make out a small box. He pulled it out, taking a better look at it in the quickly dimming light. He opened the box, and he sucked in a breath upon seeing the contents.
There were six memberships cards scattered in the box, one for every year of Felix's service, along with recruitment flyers the klan had produced and some photos of him with the white robes on. Connie smiled proudly next to her husband in the photo. Another photo was at the very bottom of the box. He immediately recognized a familiar scene. The shooting range the organization had taken him to could be seen in the background, the vulgar targets looked newly installed. There Felix stood with a rifle, smiling as he aimed it at one of the targets.
“Now these would do just fine for evidence,” He thought to himself as he held the photos.
Suddenly, he heard a car engine. He rushed to the bedroom window. And saw Walter's car pull up to the house.
Fuck. He had to get out of there now.
He stuffed the contents of the box in his inside coat pocket to keep them out of view. He shoved the box back into the floorboards and readjusted the wood. He ran back downstairs as quietly as possible, peaking out windows when he could to make sure he hadn't been spotted. The dark house served as a good cover, keeping him out of sight.
He stopped near the front window. Walter was standing by his car smoking a cigarette, presumably waiting for him. There was no way he'd be able to get back to his car now, he was too close. He held his jacket close to his chest, hoping nothing would fall out as he snuck back out the window.
He stumbled back onto the grass, shutting the window behind him. He took a deep breath before straightening himself out and brushing himself off. He snuck to the front of the house and made himself just visible to Walter. He beckoned for him to come into the yard once he caught his eye. The man stubbed out his cigarette on his shoe and followed him.
"Do any of the brothers know what happened yet?" Flip asked.
"Not yet, we kept it quiet at the meeting, didn't want to cause a fuss with Duke still there. I'm sure they'll find out by tomorrow morning," He responded. "We should clear out anything that directly links him and Connie to our chapter. We don't want any trouble with the police,"
"I hear ya, I don't think theres a key hidden anywhere. There's gotta be an open window somewhere though,"
They crept through the yard, letting Walter test a few windows before Flip guided him to the one he knew was open. They entered the house the same way he had done moments before and began to look around.
After several minutes it became apparent that Walter was much more familiar with where Felix put things than himself. In the basement, boxes of klan memorabilia were carefully tucked away in tool chests under the drawer bottoms.
Most was simple enough, flags and robes and paperwork. Things he was kind of glad he didn't touch because the other man clearly knew what he was doing. Then another box was pulled out and opened. Walter smiled at the contents and held it for Flip to see. It was a mummified finger, decapitated from lord knows who. Under the finger was a simple tattered gold star made out of cloth with the word “Jude” written across it.
His stomach dropped. Where did Felix even get that from? he was too young to have fought in the war. Was is handed down? Was it purchased? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He willed himself to not look away, slap it out of Walter’s hand, he had to keep cover.
He twisted his mouth into a small smile, looking up at Walter and giving a quiet laugh.
"Typical Felix," He gritted out.
"Yeah, he was a strange guy," Walter mused, closing the box and slipping it into his jacket.
They continued with this for another hour or so. They walked through the rest of the house, checking drawers and cabinets for anything incriminating. He held his breath as they walked around the bedroom, waiting to find out if Walter knew about the loose floorboard.
He waited by the doorway as the man circled the bedroom, checking the closets and drawers as Flip did before. He found nothing new. He stopped at the end of the bed, dropping down to check under it and he felt his heart stop. Walter stayed under there for what felt like hours. He couldn’t hear what was going on beyond the pumping of blood in his ears. Was he about to be found out?
Walter stood back up, staring at him before speaking.
"I'm not seeing anything up here, guess he kept it all in the basement. We should get out of here. Before anyone notices,"
It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest.
"Yeah, good idea,"
"I can't hold all this shit, you take some of it. Hide it if anyone comes around questioning you. Who knows how this is all gonna go down," he slapped his hand on his back as he moved passed him.
The two went back downstairs, dividing up the boxes and calmly slipped back out the window. Flip took care to not grab the box that Walter had out the finger in. It was evidence, but he couldn't bear the thought of looking at it, or handling it, ever again.
"Take care, i’ll call you when it feels safe to," Walter whispered before going back to his car.
Boxes in hand and cards in his pocket, he travelled back to his own car, throwing them in the trunk before driving off. He took a long route to Elle's. A really long route. He was paranoid and exhausted, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms.
He stopped at the first payphone he saw, parking his car alongside the glass box before putting in a coin and punching in Elle's number with a practiced ease. She picked up after two rings.
"Flip?" She asked, voice filled with worry.
"It's me. I'm on my way, I'll see you soon," He assured her.
She breathed a sigh of relief before the two said their goodbyes and hung up. He got back in his car and went on his way.
He'd bring the boxes to the station tomorrow, submitting it as evidence. At a stop light, he took the cards out of his coat pocket and took another look at them. The vicious red of the papers stared back at him. He was given a card just like this, but with his undercover name. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how Duke would probably lose it if he knew who the real Ron Stallworth was. The light turned green and he put the cards in his glovebox before stepping on the gas.
He was outside Elle's door less than ten minutes later. He ran up the stairs toward her apartment, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached her floor. He stood outside her door, taking a moment to look at her mezuzah. He stared at it, taking in its meaning. This place is blessed. This place is safe. He reached out and ran his fingers across it before unlocking the door and walking in.
Elle emerged from the kitchen, immediately throwing her arms around his large frame and burying her face into his chest.
"Hey trouble," He murmured, running his hand along the back of her neck. Her curls were still pinned up under her nurses' cap, she hadn't bothered to change.
"You don't get to call me that today Mr. ‘I'm going back out there’," Her words were muffled by his chest. He laughed.
"I'm home, there won't be anymore trouble tonight," He assured her.
She grabbed his shirt with her fists and dragged him down into a kiss. He could feel everything she'd felt that day; fear, worry, anger, relief, but mostly love.
"Did you get what you needed?" She asked after.
"I did. I think I have a good amount of incriminating evidence,"
"Good. Tear them the fuck down," Her gaze had an intensity to it.
She switched to a gentler look as she motioned back to the kitchen.
"I have some steak and potatoes cooking, hungry?"
"Absolutely,"
They sit in silence for a few minutes as they eat, taking time to de-stress now that the worst was over. He'd seen Elle stress-cook before, after Felix showed up at his house, but she had much more time to prepare this meal. Everything was cooked to perfection. She seemed pleased with her work as she ate, and much more relaxed than even a few minutes before.
"I called home earlier to let them know what had happened at work today. Well, an abridged version. I left out the meshugas racist part. Mama was a lot less upset than I thought she'd be, but she did tell me I should quit and settle down though,"
"I don't think settling down is in your wheelhouse," He smiled
"You're right. But I did tell her I found a nice guy out here in the mountains. He's even Jewish. I'm pretty sure she dropped the phone when I told her that,"
"I'm glad she's happy to hear about me," He laughed.
"She'll want to talk to you sometime, probably give you the shakedown of when you're coming to the city with me to meet the family,"
"I’d like that. You'll have to teach me some German so I can talk to them,"
"You say that as if they'll let you get a word in. I'll be surprised if they let you even get your own name out before questioning begins,"
"My family will be the opposite. Just silence with weird polite questions dotted in,"
"You want me to meet your family too?" She seemed surprised.
"Eventually yeah, whenever you're ready for it," He didn't want to come across as eager.
The last time he brought a girl home was in high school. This would be a big deal for him, she was a big deal, but he'd let her know that later.
"Well we can work out the details later, let's just relax for now," She tried to hide a smile, looking relieved they were on the same page. She wanted this to move in the same direction as he did.
The evening was becoming the rainbow after the storm. His life was hectic and dangerous, but he found someone who could put up with it. Tomorrow he would go into the office and the case would continue. He'd be undercover, cleaning up the mess that today was. But he wouldn't worry about that now.
She was with him, they were safe, that's what mattered.
______
NOTES
So after watching the film a few times, I had a few questions about how the team thought they were going to be able to continue the undercover work after the explosion/Connie’s arrest. I kinda filled in what I thought could have happened in order to keep Flip’s cover.
Where did Felix get the finger and the patch? No idea but it was gross to write! Just wanted to hammer home the idea that he’s a sick bastard.
“Meshugas” is yiddish for crazy.
There’s one more chapter left!