by Bill Brewer
Vince and Julie looked to Kellerman seeking clarity in his statement.
“What do you mean, Dad?” asked Julie.
Kellerman shifted in his seat as he attempted clarification. “I… I mean out of all the possible areas of specialty one could develop, you, Vince, are an economist. While your new found father seeks to control the economy of the entire world.”
Both of the young people sat quietly letting the gravity of Dean’s words settle on the table.
As responses were being developed, lunch was served. The waiter set the meals in front of each diner. Julie’s Cobb salad came in a huge bowl. It looked like enough salad to serve ten. Vince caught the wide-eyed reaction of his girlfriend.
The beef for each of the men’s meals was served on a wooden cutting board, which accompanied their dinner plate. Nested in a cut out on the board was a steak knife with a six inch serrated blade fixed to a rigid wooden handle. The knife was honed to a fine point and razor sharp, the perfect tool to slice through beef as if it were butter.
“This looks lovely,” said Dean, lightening the mood.
Vince picked up the knife, effortlessly slicing a piece of beef. Placing the morsel in his mouth, he enjoyed the most delicious and tender meat he had ever eaten.
The three diners were quiet for a few moments while they all enjoyed their food.
Dean restarted the conversation, “I don’t mean to be accusatory or question your choice to study economics, it’s just that I’m old enough to be suspicious of coincidences.”
“Suspicious are you now?” replied Vince.
As he placed another piece of beef in his mouth Dean said, “Convince me it’s just a coincidence.”
Julie’s attention turned to Vince. Her curiosity for Vince’s explanation was as high as her father’s. She was excited to hear more of Vince’s life story.
David Diegert remained immersed in the role of Vince so the untrue story he was going to tell didn’t feel like the lie that it was.
“My mother said to me, you learn money and you will understand power. She didn’t realize how deeply that statement affected me. It was the unintended motivation to become an economist. The question my mother never did answer was, who is my father? She would say when the time is right you’ll find out. It pissed me off that she knew and wouldn’t tell me. At times, it would drive us apart but I always came back. She knew I would. I could not hold a grudge and she knew there was no one else who could fulfill her role. I’d get angry and distance myself for a while. She stayed just as busy as ever and waited until I returned, the disagreement never being mentioned.” Addressing Dean, Vince asked, “What do you mean when you say my father wants to take over the economy of the world?”
Dean swallowed his beef, took a sip of water and said, “Digival is your father’s idea. He wants a global corporate currency in spite of the tremendous risk. I do not fully agree with the actions he has taken. But by owning all the currency, he can control the economy. His plan is rather benevolent at first. He’s lulling the masses into complacency, but I know your father very well. He will turn that money into pure power and the world’s economy will be at the control of Crepusculous.”
“But Dad, they’re giving people more buying power, while also funding schools, daycare centers and old age homes.” Julie’s fork lifted lettuce, three types of fruit and tangy dressing into her eager mouth.
“That’s deceptive charity,” said Dean. “What they’re doing is getting people dependent on Digival. Getting them used to buying stuff with it. So that dollars, euros and yen all fade in their memory.”
“What about paying the taxes?” asked Julie in spite of not yet swallowing.
“That’s the same thing, only worse because it gives the currency credibility while undermining the government’s own money.”
Vince spoke into the void as Dean focused on slicing more beef. “It’s really quite brilliant and exceptionally bold. Using the value and influence of Omnisphere to change the way the world uses money is unprecedented. I’m thrilled to be part of it and all my money is now Digival. How about you, Dean?”
Placing a fork full of meat back on the table, Dean said, “I am not all in.”
Surprised, Vince said, “A board member and you’re not committed?”
With a sense of resentment Kellerman replied, “Because I’m a board member I’m not putting everything into one basket. If this plan fails we’ll be left with nothing.”
“Except all the assets,” quipped Vince.
“Yes, we will still have the assets, but we will not have the capitol to make the assets work,” said Dean as he popped a piece of beef in his mouth.
“So you’re holding on to pounds in case their worth returns. That seems hopeful?”
Chewing with force and hurrying to swallow, Dean looked like a hungry dog gobbling down a treat.
“Dad, did you tell the other members of the board about your hesitancy?” asked Julie.
Needing two swallows to down his mouthful, Dean recovered to say, “I am entitled to my own opinion in spite of what the board decides. I was the single dissenting vote, so the board is aware of my position. I have kept sums of money in current denominations. If they become worthless, it will not matter, but if Digival becomes worthless, I will be able to recover with this money. Can you see the economic sense in that Mr. Kronig?”
Smiling slowly, Vince nodded as he too sliced more beef.
Seeing an opportunity to change the subject Julie said, “Dad, I have something to tell you about Michael.”
“Something good I hope,” said the exasperated Kellerman.
Frowning, Julie continued, “Dad, Michael put me in danger.” Seeing the doubtful reaction on her father’s face, she continued. “He literally set me up so a group of men could have their way with me to pay off drug debts.” Dean set his utensils down as he absorbed what his beautiful, intelligent daughter was saying. “I walked into a trap and those men would have hurt me if it weren’t for Vince.” She turned her gaze upon him, as did the elder Kellerman.
Vince nodded as he chewed.
Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She dabbed them with a napkin.
“He betrayed me, Dad.” Her words came out as an accusation mixed with a stifled sob. “He cannot be trusted. He only cares about drugs. He will use people so he can keep getting drugs.” She wiped fresh tears with the napkin. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay, darling,” said Dean. “Were you hurt by these men?”
Nodding her head she said, “Yes, but it would have been way worse except Vince was there.”
“How many men?”
“Four,” said Julie as she extended the fingers of her right hand.
“You were rescued from four attackers by an economist?”
“Vince has some mad skills.”
“What is the status of these men now?”
She answered, “Severely damaged and deceased.”
Spinning his head to look at Vince, Dean asked, “You killed them?”
Swallowing, Vince responded, “Three. One was left to take the blame.”
Dean leaned back in his chair as he fixed his gaze on the young man. It was as if he was taking in a broader view of an expanding vista. There was a lot more to this guy than just economics.
“Who were these men?” asked Dean, now much more curious about details.
Vince and Julie looked at each other. Julie took the lead. “They were scumbags. Drug dealers preying on the addicted. Assholes who were willing to accept as payment a woman to be raped.”
Vince shifted his eyes to Dean. “They were armed, experienced and unwilling to negotiate.”
“Vince took them out like a badass,” complimented Julie. “He was ferocious.”
With both of them looking at him, Vince shrugged. “I don’t like to see innocent people getting hurt.”
Gazing beyond the Kellermans, Vince noticed a black man at the hostess podium. The man was fashionably dressed in a
black and gray sashed tunic. Over his lower body he wore draping panels of dark cloth front and back. Avery Forsythe spoke to the hostess as he scanned the room. Within seconds, he had found them. Vince picked up on his reaction. Avery was surprised to see him dining with Dean and Julie Kellerman.
Julie inhaled deeply, straightened her spine and said, “I have told Michael, in no uncertain terms, that I will not have anything more to do with him. I want him out of my life.”
Dean’s mouth fell open as he absorbed the words. He was visibly struggling to find a response. “I… I’m so sorry you had this terrible experience, but I can’t have my family fall apart.”
“Dad, I’m sorry but he can’t be trusted. I have to be careful because he’s dangerous. He’s already demonstrated that he’s willing to hurt me and I can’t let myself get in that situation again.”
“Of course my dear, your safety is paramount, but can’t we remain a family?”
At the hostess podium, Avery was now flanked by Tiberius Dupre’ and Fiera Zeidler. Tiberius towered above Avery while Fiera searched the room with her eyes, spotting Vince on her first pass.
“I don’t know, Dad. Time will tell if that guy can change. I’ve spent years trying to help him overcome his addiction and what did it get me? Pimped out like a whore to be raped by his dealers. Repairing this relationship is his job, not mine.”
With the eyes of Cerberus upon him, Vince saw Avery lean over and speak to Tiberius.
Shaking his head Dean said, “You know he doesn’t have the capacity to fix things.”
“Yes I do, that’s why I’m done with him. If he doesn’t acknowledge what he did and make amends for the absolute disregard with which he treated me, then fuck him. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
Such angry language disturbed the paternal Kellerman, but he recognized Julie was right. Michael never acknowledged any of the damage in his wake. The many times he had embarrassed everyone and insulted people, he never apologized in the sober morning. He was oblivious to other people’s feelings and blind to the consequences of his outrageous behavior. Julie had every right to hold him accountable and Dean knew that meant this issue would never be properly resolved. Set up to be raped! He truly had no scruples.
Avery leaned over with words for Fiera’s ears as well. Both of Avery’s operators exited the lobby as Avery stepped back from the podium into the shadows of the atrium.
“Darling, you know he and I already have a strained relationship. Without you, he will have no one from the family to care for him.”
“I do know that, Dad. And that’s why I’m letting you know because the next time he’s in trouble he will be on his own. I do not believe he will survive.”
Dean snapped. “Will not survive?”
“You may not have noticed, but Michael overdoses on a regular basis. I have reversed his toxicity so many times. He would have been dead years ago if I hadn’t learned how to do an emergency detox.”
Looking down at his plate and placing his forehead in his hands Dean gasped, “My God.”
“I want you to know that we will soon be rid of Michael as a result of his own actions.”
Vince peered around the dining room and gazed out the windows. Outside the entrance, he could see Tiberius, dressed in combat black, standing as a sentinel.
Dean Kellerman looked distraught. He was unable to say anything more and Vince felt like the man was missing his wife right now. It was the type of moment when one feels the loss of those whose deaths occurred far too early.
As the waiter came to clear the plates, Vince placed the steak knife in his lap and wrapped it up in the black cloth napkin. He clandestinely slipped the blade into his pocket.
“Would anyone care for dessert?” asked the waiter.
Julie shook her head.
“No thank you,” said Vince.
“We’ll take the check now please,” said Dean before turning to Vince with a smile. “It was a pleasure to dine with you, young man. Knowing your father as I do, I dare say there is quite a bit of him in you. I can see that you and my daughter are quite fond of each other and I hope your friendship grows.” The elder man’s smile faded as he continued, “We’ve had a difficult conversation at the table today, but I’m grateful you were able to spare Julie from harm. I hope that I can trust that you are not the sort of man who gossips the gory details of family tragedies.”
“I am not,” said Vince.
The waiter returned with the check. Dean did not read the small document, nor produce a credit card, nor calculate a gratuity. He just scrawled his signature. The waiter bowed and walked away.
“Thank you,” said Dean. “I look forward to seeing you in the company of Julie again.” Addressing his daughter he said, “Are you coming with me darling?”
Julie looked at Vince, who said, “You better go with him. I have to deal with my car, and it may be a while. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Tonight?”
Shrugging, Vince said, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how long it will take to straighten out the mess.” Pulling out his phone he said, “I have to make a call before I go.”
“Okay.”
She leaned over and convincingly kissed Vince on the lips. Dean Kellerman stood impatiently, watching.
Julie rose from the table, took her father’s arm and said, “Let’s go, Dad.”
As they exited the dining area, Vince placed a call to the parking valet. “Yes, this is Vince Kronig, I would like my vehicle brought to the front entrance please… Yes, that’s the one. The heavily damaged Porsche. Thank you.”
Hanging up, Vince wanted to make sure Julie and her father were not being harassed by Avery and his operators. He was confident that Panzer’s Director of Clandestine Operations would not take action against Dean Kellerman. His concerns, however, did not disappear until, through the lobby, he saw Kellerman’s Rolls Royce pull away with Julie comfortably in the back seat.
Entering the lobby, Vince felt the movement from the left as Fiera fell in behind him, placing the barrel of a pistol into the small of his back. Before she could speak, Vince said, “Fiera, I so enjoyed target practice with you when you told me that sexual seduction was your best weapon.”
Vince spun to the right, grabbing her gun and disarming her with expertly placed torque upon her wrist. He continued spinning, striking her in the jaw with the heel of his left palm. The force snapped her neck, disorienting her. He pushed her into the coatroom where he encircled her neck in the elbow of his right arm, collapsing her airway. With his hand on the back of her head, he forcefully flexed her neck as he knelt to the floor. The maneuver compressed the pons of her midbrain, depressing her respiration, producing a rapid loss of consciousness. The sleeper hold had done its job and Fiera lay on the floor an inert, but living mass. Vince pocketed her pistol.
Stepping outside the restaurant door, Vince approached Tiberius. “Hey, it’s good to see the Nigerian Prince again.” The statement distracted the big man long enough for Vince to sweep his left arm in a forward arc, catching both arms of his adversary and turning the Cerberus operator’s torso to the left. Extracting the steak knife from his pocket, still wrapped in the napkin, Vince raised his right hand and plunged the knife into Tiberius’s left shoulder. The blade entered the muscle above and behind the collarbone. Releasing the handle, Vince struck it with enough force to drive the blade through the scapula, fracturing the shoulder blade. Stepping back to avoid the blood as it sprayed a fan of crimson on the hotel’s granite exterior, Vince struck Tiberius with three powerful punches to the head, dropping him in a heap onto the old stone walkway.
Hotel guests, restaurant patrons and the young men of the valet staff gasped at the violence. Vince looked to his left into the calm, soulful eyes of Avery Forsythe, as he slowly and deliberately emerged from the shadows. His facial features and childlike eyes of wonder belied the ruthlessness of the man. Vince knew this, but looking into the man’s eyes produced a calming, soothing sensation
no matter the circumstances.
“Where is Carolyn Fuller?” asked Avery.
“You know I’m not going to tell you.”
“It is my mission to find her.”
“I don’t care. I’m not helping you.” Patting his left pocket Vince said, “I have Fiera’s weapon. Don’t make me shoot you.”
Avery could see the outline of the pistol and the end of the grip at the opening of the pocket.
As the two stared each other down, the valet delivered Vince’s beat up Porsche.
Stepping to his roadway menace, Vince said, “You can tell Klaus that there is no fucking way I’m letting him hurt her.” Vince gave the valet a ten-pound note. Pulling the pistol from his pocket, he placed it on the passenger’s seat. Gunning the engine and lurching up onto the walkway, Vince stopped the vehicle inches from Avery’s feet. “You tell my father she is off limits. If he has a problem with that, he is to speak directly to me.” Vince let a sardonic smile cross his face as he said, “Tell him he’s experiencing the love of his son.”
In spite of its dilapidated condition, the Porsche left a patch of rubber as it peeled off the walkway, accelerating down Nightingale Lane.
Avery gathered Tiberius and Fiera as he departed the restaurant.
Vince sped to the M4. It was a little before 2:00 p.m. and he needed to get to Heathrow before 4:00 p.m. From Richmond to Heathrow was about forty miles, but with London traffic the trip would take over two hours. Even with a Porsche 918 Spyder, this highway provided no options for a faster, shorter trip. At 3:54 p.m., Vince left his car in a long-term lot and made his way to Delta arrivals. At the service counter, he borrowed the handheld whiteboard, placing the honorifics and name, Dr. & Mrs. Fuller in big bold black letters. Standing by the exit of the gate, he looked for a couple who appeared bewildered, anxious and confused. It surprised him how many people looked that way before a well-dressed, gray-haired couple approached him.
“Hello there, we’re the Fullers.” The man offered his hand. “I’m Dr. Marty Fuller and this is my wife Laurie.”
