by Darrell King
Rueben Mintz, unlike the others at Coventry Laboratories, realized that if Wilhelm’s accusations about Dr. Nader were indeed correct, it could have devastating consequences for them all. He’d worked with both scientists for years, and knew the chances of Wilhelm fabricating such a story was highly unlikely, especially with Nader’s history of man problems. Reuben knew that something had to be done rather quickly, before word of the suspected affair reached Doctor Harrington and the other head honchos of the Illuminati—that scenario would certainly be disastrous for everyone involved.
It was around 10:55 p.m. when Reuben walked into the Tiki Hut. As expected, Wilhelm sat at the edge of the bar near a flickering tiki lamp downing a shot glass filled with gin. As his fellow lab worker approached, Wilhelm didn’t even look his way. He simply slid the empty shot glass aside while grasping a newly filled one from the lei-wearing bartender who rotated between serving drinks and watching the Chargers vs. Chiefs game on the overhead plasma screen.
Rueben took a seat beside his inebriated, brooding pal. He took a swig from the small container of gin back in one gulp, grimacing from the bitterness of it. Wilhelm looked a mess, with his usually well-kept blonde hair disheveled and dirty, along with a wrinkled suit that seemed both soiled and slept in. Right away he noticed the rank odor of alcohol exuding from Wilhelm’s pores.
“Wil!” Rueben said loudly, raising his voice an octave or two above the din of the overhead television and the blaring Elvis tunes coming from the nearby jukebox. “What’s goin’ on, bud? Thought I’d stop by and have a drink or two with you if you don’t mind!”
“Cut the shit, Rueben. That’s not why you’re here,” Wilhelm said, turning to glance briefly at him with bloodshot eyes before downing another shot of gin.
The German was gruff and standoffish; clearly this was not going to be a smooth conversation, Rueben thought.
“Well, let’s just say ‘yes and no,’” Rueben said, plunking down a down $10 bill on top of the bar as a bartender brought him a pitcher of dark ale. “We need to talk...I need to know what’s been going on lately between you, Meredith and the patient.”
He stared at the drunken doctor intensely while pouring himself a glass of the seasonal brew. Wilhelm hung his head for several minutes before swiping a lock of his golden hair away from his forehead, sighing deeply as he straightened himself up upon his stool to face Reuben.
“We made love...in the office a while back. Did you know that?”
“Wil, please don’t do this to yourself,” Rueben said.
Wilhelm fought to stop the tears, but they fell anyway as he continued on.
“I should’ve treated her better. I should’ve given her the love that she needed . . . but now she’s with that fucking monkey! I hate him, Rueben, I fucking despise that nigger,” he growled with an alcohol-fueled rage.
“I know how you must feel, Wil, but this entire affair should never have happened. Lucien Valentino, known to all of us as Patient Zero, is part of a covert government operation and you know this—his safety, comfort and cooperation in this population control agenda is paramount and none of us has the right to interfere with the greater goal at hand.”
“Fuck off, Mintz,” Wil said. “At this point I couldn’t care less about the goddamned agenda. Just look at me! Does it look like I give a rat’s ass about this psycho operation we’re into? I’ve lost my family, I’ve lost Meredith, I’ve lost everything! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish drinking myself to death.”
“Okay, okay...you got it, bud,” Mintz said uneasily. “Just try to keep it down a tad, all right? The kid behind the bar is getting a little shifty eyed . . . Let me at least polish off my Sam Adams before we both get our butts booted outta here, okay? And look, I know how much you love Meredith, okay? And let me say that we all know she’s always had the hots for you too. Everybody at Coventry Labs can see that.”
Rueben poured himself another foamy mug of lager. He needed to reassure and calm his friend down before continuing on with his plan.
“Yeah, she was always flirting with me and begging me to bang her. You’re right—she so wanted me,” Wilhelm said with fond nostalgia. “Rueben, all I want is to just hold her close one more time—can you help me with that? Huh? C’mon, man, you just have to help me get to her.”
Rueben smiled. This was the exact reaction he’d been banking on. He called the young bartender over from the rear of the bar where he looked upward, cheering fervently as the San Diego Chargers took a 21-10 lead in the waning minutes of the game. Rueben peeled off a twenty-dollar bill, handing it over and asking for four extra shots of gin for Wilhelm. The young man took the bill and returned within a few minutes, pouring a hearty dose of Beefeaters into four empty shot glasses before the already plastered German.
“To you and Dr. Meredith Nader! Cheers!” Rueben said with a broad smile.
Wilhelm wolfed down two of the four shots of gin in rapidly.
“You know what, Rueben? She still has the hots for me. I know she does.”
Wilhelm was a hearty drinker who could hold his liquor well, but after this tenth shot he was slurring and staggering, which gave his beer drinking buddy all the more reason to smile.
“If I were you, I’d go let Meredith know just how much you loved her and wanted her. She’s probably waiting up for you right this moment, ready to wrap her loving arms around you.”
“You’re right for once, Rueben, and you know what? I’m going to go over to her place and I’m going to make love to her tonight!” Wilhelm proclaimed confidently before finishing off the remaining shot glasses of gin.
He stood up to leave, teetering to and fro before Rueben quickly took him by the hand to help stead him.
“Easy does it, bud,” he said. “I’ve got you. I’ll drive you over to Meredith’s, okay?”
“Thanks,” Wilhelm replied. “I can walk out of here by myself, you know? I’ve been drinking since the age of 16, Rueben, so you don’t have to hold me by the hand. I’m fine—really. Oh, by the way, Meredith’s address is 1661 Falcon Crest Way. She lives in Beach Lake.”
“I know exactly where that is,” Rueben said while dialing a quick series of digits on his cell phone. “Go on to the car at the end of the lot—it’s unlocked. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rueben awaited an answer at the other end as the number rang monotonously. The scientist watched closely as his associate entered the moss green Toyota Tercel after urinating against a street lamp. A familiar voice answered on the other end, husky and threatening.
“Yeah, wassup, my nigga? Talk to da Don.”
Glancing around cautiously as he stood in the cool, crisp seaside air, Rueben spoke quickly, spinning his car keys around on his right index finger to calm his frazzled nerves.
“Valentino, he’s in the car and I’m about to hop on the freeway en route to Dr. Nader’s. Is everything set up on your end?”
“Man, didn’t I tell yo’ monkey ass, everything’s good to go? I got this!” Valentino replied.
“Look, we need this to go perfectly—no fuck ups. I’m serious. There’s a lot at stake here.”
“First off,” Valentino said, “get that muthafuckin’ bass out your mouth, white boy, you ain’t talkin’ to one o’ yo’ lil’ nerd-ass doctors, ya understand? You’ll fuck around and come up missin’ fuckin’ wit me. Now let’s try this again, aiight? I don’t do disposals fa free, so you best be havin’ my twenty grand in my bank account by tomorrow evenin’. Do you? ‘Cause I got my end on lock, holla!”
Nervously, the scientist ended the call and proceeded across the parking lot to enter his vehicle, where he discovered the German involved in a lively phone conversation of his own—with Dr. Meredith Nader. Rueben smiled wickedly and pulled out of the parking lot with his unsuspecting victim in tow.
“Tell Meredith I said ‘hi,’ Wil,” he said. “Let her know that I got her latest lab results from last Friday and everything’s perfect. Tell her to keep up the good work.”<
br />
“Sure, Rueben, I’ll let her know, dude...in time, though. Right now we’re busy discussing something else.”
“Got it, big guy,” Reuben said. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”
A few minutes later, the two arrived at the home of Doctor Meredith Nader. Just as Rueben had expected, the intoxicated scientist wasted little time seeking out his lady love as he burst from the passenger seat, partially running and partially staggering toward her front door. Once there, he pounded with his clenched fist for several seconds before an irate Meredith snatched it open to confront him.
“Wilhelm! What do you think you’re doing, banging on my door at this time of night? Are you nuts?!” She reached out and caught him by the arm, pulling him into the threshold. “For Christ’s sakes, man, what is it with you lately?”
“I should be asking you that same question, Meredith...what is it with you?” Wilhelm said coolly, slamming the door behind them. “I know that you want me, Meredith. Hell, I want you too. I know that now. And my wife and I have separated, so you don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
He reached out and took hold of her, bringing her close to him. He kissed her lips passionately, but she was repulsed by the stench of alcohol on his breathe. She pushed him away abruptly.
“You’re a stinking drunk!” she said with anger and disgust. “Look at yourself, Wil. You’re a wreck!”
The German’s eyes narrowed with instant fury. His hands clenched once again into fists.
“I used to be in love with you, Wil,” Meredith said. “So very much in love, but you took that love for granted and paid me very little attention. You said that you loved your wife and you stuck to that. Well, good for you. Now I’ve met the man of my dreams—a real man who knows how to make me feel like a woman, and frankly, Wil, Lucien would not take kindly to your being here right now.”
She backed away from him as though he were a dangerous animal. Valentino had ordered her to have sex with Von Strecker before dispatching him, but she couldn’t lower herself to fucking this alcoholic shell of a man. He no longer attracted her. Now, he was a pitiful, revolting sight to behold, with his ragged beard, unkempt clothing and that God-awful smell, hovering around him like some malodorous halo. She’d have to bypass. The sooner she got it over with, the better. Valentino had given her a small .22 caliber revolver, or “deuce-deuce” as he called it, to complete her murderous task. He’d shown her how to comfortably hold the weapon in her palm and how to breath comfortably while squeezing the trigger to prevent jerking.
She reached down, finding the nickel-plated pistol lying upon the small coffee table in the living room. Wilhelm, driven by rage and liquor, spewed profanity in both English and his native German as he rushed toward her. Meredith stood her ground as the drunken Wilhelm staggered forward, voicing threats as he approached.
“I’m sorry, Wil, but you brought this upon yourself.”
“You nigger-loving bitch, I’ll teach you a thing or two!”
He reached out for her throat, stumbling again. The awful muzzle of the gun was now level with his upper chest. Meredith’s finger tensed on the trigger. He was nearly on top of her now, so close that she could smell the stink of gin coming from his breath. His blue eyes glazed over with a reddish film of toxicity, and onward he came, bellowing like a charging bull. She braced herself for the impending impact.
“Die, you Nazi bastard! Die!” she yelled.
The handgun kicked forcefully in her grasp as she unleaded several rounds of hollow point shells into the upper body of her former love. He let out a shrieking cry before collapsing onto her, as the both of them crashed up against the couch and then onto the floor below.
He bled heavily from the gunshot wounds in his torso, but still managed to reach out and grasp her by the ankle as she attempted to run. She aimed the weapon at him and fired off three more shots, muffled by the attached silencer. The first two bullets pierced his larynx and shattered his right collarbone, while yet another smashed it way through the left side of his face, ripping his eye from its socket and carrying it fourteen feet away, where it slid off of the colorful kitchen wallpaper and onto the neatly tiled floor, leaving a bloody trail where it made its way down.
Wilhelm Von Strecker was dead now for sure. Meredith Nader breathed heavily as she slowly lowered the handgun to view the bloodied corpse, which had once been Coventry’s leading scientist, lying dead on the floor below. Flecks of red were sprinkled all across her face and blouse. The living room smelled of gun powder and gore. Yet she felt proud that she had done something that would please Lucien Valentino, her beloved. Whomever he hated, she would in turn hate also. She was his totally through and through, for what he had given her was what she had so desperately needed her entire life. And for that, she was forever grateful—grateful enough to do anything he might have asked of her, even to take a life.
Rueben Mintz, behind the steering wheel of his car listening to talk radio, observed a dark van parking beside Meredith’s Hyundai Elantra. A band of Valentino’s henchmen emerged and headed toward the house, where they were talked with evidence removal. By 12:57 a.m., they’d removed the scientist’s body, cleaned the townhouse and disappeared without a trace. Dr. Rueben Mintz could now breath easier with Wilhelm Von Strecker dead and Meredith Nader prepared to leave the country at the request of Lucien Valentino himself.
***
November 19, 2002
11:11 a.m.
Bogotá, Columbia
Lucien Valentino breathed in the refreshing cleanliness of the brisk breeze coming down from off of the mountaintop above the lush Columbian countryside. He enjoyed this South American country for many reasons. Today’s perfect weather reminded him just how much more he appreciated it with each visit.
Meredith had lived here now for a total of two whole months, since the shooting of her former colleague and lover, Wilhelm Von Strecker. Valentino smiled as she came running into his arms from the porch of the lovely sky blue, stucco-lined apartment where she resided since leaving the states. Unspeakable joy showed in Meredith’s beaming smile and giddy laughter as she covered her man’s handsomely chiseled face with kisses. Her initial infatuation with the pimp had grown into what she could only describe as true love.
Valentino took her delicate left hand in his, slipping a two-carat, princess-cut diamond ring on her finger, grinning with satisfaction while an overjoyed Meredith Nader hugged him warmly. Tears of happiness streamed down her face as she remained snuggled close to Valentino. He raised her chin upwards with his thick, diamond-cluttered index finger to meet her lips with his, his own in a long, breathy and passion-filled kiss, which brought her nearly to the brink of orgasm. He pulled her even closer to him while withdrawing his rock hard erection out of its enclosure. She gasped with wanton expectation as he shoved the length of his trouser snake deep into her pink, wet crevice. The fully clothed lovers immediately enjoyed themselves there on the porch as tropical birds flew overhead singing melodiously throughout the rainforest as the grunts and groans of the copulating couple echoed along the lonely countryside.
Meredith drew fine beads of blood along Valentino’s broad back as she dug her long nails into his skin as his frenzied stroking forced three consecutive orgasms from her. She shuddered with post-orgasmic bliss as her lover released a warm torrent of semen that swirled into her cervix.
Valentino pulled himself out of Meredith’s dripping snatch using a small cloth from his pocket to wipe down his greasy, swinging penis as the exhausted scientist pulled her sheer skirt back down around her shapely legs before slumping onto a white wicker recliner just beside the entrance. She was completely spent.
Meredith was so deeply consumed by her undying love for the man known to her medical peers as “Patient Zero” that it was as if she needed him to even survive from day to day. It was a far cry from the fierce racial hatred she’d once harbored for African Americans.
“You just can’t get enough of this good dick, can you, whi
te girl?” Valentino asked.
“You bet your sexy ass I can’t, studmuffin!”
“Shit, I don’t give a fuck what they say, flattery will get you everywhere, even though a bitch talkin’ ‘bout this muthafucka, she ain’t lyin’.”
“Lucien, I want us to be together forever. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Please say you’ll marry me . . . please?”
“Marry?” Lucien said. “C’mon, woman, you know better than that. We s’pose ta be part o’ this secret operation, remember?”
Meredith folded her arms across her bountiful breasts, turning her face away from his as it turned crimson with anger. She tapped her bare foot with disappointment, while biting down on her lower lip in order to keep her tongue in check.
“I’m a playa pimp, mama, ya understand? You know this. I ain’t got time fa no marriage an’ shit, not ta you or nobody else, baby, but that don’t mean that I ain’t ya man, ‘cause I’m already that.”
“But, Lucien,” Meredith said, “I don’t wan tot be just another one of your hos! I want—hell, I deserve—more from you! I want to share your last name. I want to bear your children. I want to belong to you and you alone, goddamn it! I’m crazy for you—can’t you see that? Or does it not even matter?”
“Look here, bitch, we both got that shit, ya know what I’m sayin’? We gon’ have ta shoot up that Biomax-O just ta live from one year to another...that ain’t no kinda ordinary, everyday-type shit...how in the fuck we s’pose ta bring young’uns into this world with that HIV5X or 10X or whatever the fuck you wanna call it and subject them to the same type o’ bullshit we goin’ through? Huh? Plus, you gotta know that on some real gutter-type shit them futhafuckas, that’s usin’ us ta wipe out niggas in the hood is gonna turn right around and rock us to sleep an’ that’s no bullshit. We aint’ got no time for lovey-dovey-type shit. We got ta keep it tight and watch each other’s back, aiight?”
