by Glenn Smith
Bahaar turned to leave. “I have diplomatic immunity,” he said.
“This pistol doesn’t care,” Catunta’s calm voice replied. “One more step will kill you.”
Bahaar stopped.
Now the question was what to do with Jafe, Temple, and Bahaar. Catunta pointed the Glock while Davi cut a length of strong cord from the drapery pull. The three prisoners were made to sit on the floor back to back in a circle with hands behind their backs. Using knots that were self-tightening if they were pulled on or struggled against, Davi tied each man’s left hand to the right hand of the man sitting to his left. He tied their ankles tightly using the same kind of self-tightening knots with legs outstretched and feet wide apart. Each prisoner’s left foot was tied close to the right foot of the person on his left—and vice versa for his other foot.
Arcana found handkerchiefs in Jafe’s and Bahaar’s pockets, stuffed them in their owners’ mouths to muffle any yelling. He used a wash cloth for Temple’s gag.
Davi stepped to the suitcase in which Jafe said the injections were stored. He saw five syringes already filled with solution.
“You know, Jonathan,” he said holding the box with all five syringes a foot from Temple’s eyes, “I believe our host had one of these for you. Maybe they are not the cure for anything. Maybe the injection is the real source of death.”
Juan Blanco said, “these three have spent time with Pagana. She is said to be highly contagious. Perhaps they caught a disease from her. Let’s be kind and give them the antidote free of charge.” He removed the plastic needle sheath from a syringe, injected Mo Bahaar with the full dose in his thigh.
“Don’t do that,” Jafe shouted. “It will turn him into a vegetable.” Arcana was injecting a full syringe into Jafe as he protested. Temple got his from Davi. Through his desperate rage, Mo looked at the door. Abdu Koreim was leaning in, looking straight at Mo.
“Koreim. You Bastard!” Mo screamed. No one else saw anyone in the door. Bahaar began to babble. He lapsed into Urdu. Then he switched back to English. He confessed that the syringes contained a Russian developed psychotropic drug that had been used on some of their own top agents until it was found to cause progressive brain damage. The Americans, Mo said, had a supply from Russia of a reversing agent which completely eliminated the drug’s effects if administered soon enough.
“The CIA has a supply of the reversing agent in Geneva,” Bahaar said in desperation. “Let me go now and each of you gets half a billion dollars before I leave this hotel.”
“Anyone want to take his offer?” Blanco asked. The other three were shaking their heads from side to side. Blanco led the way out of the room. Catunta closed the door, as he was the last one out. He hung a “do not disturb” sign on the door handle. The four men went to Davi’s room and held an impromptu conference.
Initially they agreed to forget the three bad boys and head for the airport to get back to Latin America as soon as possible. Then Davi offered another thought.
“Bahaar went to trouble and expense to get control of our countries’ oil because he is greedy and also because he is politically ambitious. He is likely to be named prime minister of Pakistan in a couple of weeks. He covets our stock so he can control significant oil supplies. If we leave those three tied up, they will be found by some maid within minutes or an hour or two. Why don’t we set Jafe free in return for a full confession. I have a small video camera that we can use to record it.”
“Como no, why not?” Juan Blanco signaled his agreement.
The other two thought it over. Catantu said yes. Arcana had had enough. He caught a taxi to the airport alone.
An hour later, the other three men were sharing a taxi. Jafe had cooperated enthusiastically and talked fast so he could go in search of an antidote. Davi video taped the whole confession and uploaded it on YouTube from his lap top. He also uploaded it to his own web site and emailed a link to the president of Pakistan. They left Bahaar and Temple tied and gagged.
Chapter 16
When Flint and Gina walked away from the Orange Hotel, they headed for the nearest stop on the Metro A line two blocks away. Gina knew it was the fastest way to get to Termini, the station they needed for a fast train to Naples. They arrived at Termini a few minutes after the hour, just missed the 6:00 P.M. fast train. The next Eurostar would depart at 8:00. They bought reserved seats, walked past the Café Ciao on the mezzanine, decided to have a bite of pasta because neither had eaten anything since they had a scone at breakfast.
Gina ordered chianti and meat filled ravioli. Flint took spaghetti and marinara sauce. Flint was admiring the sparkle of the renovated train station when Gina’s phone sounded.
“Pronto,” Gina said to the phone.
Ava was on the line and asked for Flint.
“Hello Ava,” Flint said after taking the phone from Gina’s hand.
“I have had a call from Laura,” she started,” and need to tell you. . . .”
Flint waited. The message on the screen of Gina’s phone read “batteria scarica—low battery.” The call had dropped.
Gina turned her phone off, turned it back on, but it was no use. It would need recharging before she could use it. Steaming pasta arrived. Gina ordered a second glass of chianti. Flint took San Pellegrino sparkling water. They thought out loud with each other about the information in Ava’s call and speculated about what she did not get said before Gina’s battery died.
At a quarter to eight, Flint paid. He and Gina drifted toward Platform Four. Their train originated there, so their car was ready to board. They moved more or less automatically toward it, but Gina lit a cigarette because there was plenty of time. It would not ease out of the station for another ten minutes. Then it would quickly exceed 380 kilometers per hour during the hour and ten minute trip. Other people were approaching.
That was when a voice said, “Flint! Bet you didn’t expect to see me here!”
Flint spun around. “Laura? What a great surprise. Meet my friend Gina Lezioni.”
“Hi,” Laura said extending her hand.
All seats were reserved. Gina insisted that she exchange tickets so Laura could sit by Flint. Laura put her backpack on the luggage rack and took the window next to him.
The train slowed to stop in Naples. Laura had talked extensively about her strong positive impressions of Harry and Zeta. She had described the voice that startled her awake, and commented on the fortuity of John Bentley having a flight to Rome. She thought of one more item that had come to her by phone from Ava. It was what Gina’s dying battery had caused to be lost.
“Why did Ava call you?” Flint asked.
“I think because she knew I might see you before you and Gina returned. Ava knew I was on my way here because I phoned her from John’s company plane.”
“What is the information?”
“That Pagana Sarantos called Gina’s house telephone about two hours ago,” Laura said glancing at her watch. “Might have been nearer three hours ago. She thought that Ava might be there. She knows Bahaar intends to kill Ava, Fred, and Gina. Jafe had called Pagana’s cell phone to warn her that Bahaar will kill her as soon as he finds her. She trusts Ava to help her.”
“Where was she when she called?”
“Somewhere in Rome. She asked Ava if she could come to Gina’s house and Ava told her how to find it.”
The sleek train was in Naples. Flint reached up for Laura’s backpack, saw a familiar figure walking the platform past the window.
“That’s Pagana,” Flint told Laura and Gina. Laura squeezed past disembarking passengers and dashed till she caught up to the striking blond. Pagana looked terrified, started to run, but Laura grabbed her arm with a surprisingly strong grip.
Adequate Italian phrases came to Laura so that she got enough explanation vocalized to stop Pagana from bolting. By then Gina and Flint had reached them. Gina took over from Laura, talked rapidly, heard Pagana’s almost hysterical reply.
People were mostly off of the trai
n and past the foursome standing on the platform. Flint could see the train starting to slip out of the station.
“Hey Gina,” Flint said. “Machiavelli said that even strolling through a pleasant meadow, we must always think strategically. I’m not liking how exposed we are out here. Let’s get Pagana and Laura to a safe restaurant. I doubt that either of them has eaten today.”
Gina agreed, led the way, spoke quietly to a taxi driver. She directed Flint to the front seat. She and the two young women got in the back. Twelve minutes later Flint handed the driver more than enough money.
The restaurant was in a refurbished house in a residential neighborhood. Gina spoke to a man, the owner she said, who showed them to a private room. Laura and Pagana had full meals. Gina ordered coffee and cannoli. Flint had a few bites of Gina’s dessert. She was too busy translating what Pagana said to eat much of it herself.
At a few minutes before 11:00 Gina took out her phone to call a taxi, remembered it had no battery charge. She stepped out to borrow a phone from the owner, the man with whom she had talked when they arrived. She had been gone only a minute. Flint, Laura, and Pagana heard two muffled pops, a short pause and then two more. Laura looked at Flint. “What was that?”
The .45 in Flint’s jacket pocket was already out and his thumb had the hammer cocked. He was about to tell Laura it was gunfire when Gina stepped back into the room. A little curl of smoke was still drifting from the Baby Browning in her right hand.
“Follow me,” Gina said as she led them out of the restaurant through a back door. “I have killed the restaurant owner and a man he telephoned to kill all of us.” She kept walking and suddenly had them single file between two houses that were so close together Flint nearly had to turn sideways to have room to keep moving. Then they were on a small trail. In another minute they were on a street, but not the one on which the restaurant was situated. “My house is a fifteen minute walk,” Gina said. “Let’s skip the taxi.”
At 11:17 Gina felt in her purse for the key to unlock the iron gate to her property. As she rummaged her eye caught a flash of someone at the library window. It was a man, but not Freddy and not Murphy. She put her forefinger vertically to her lips to indicate silence. She touched Flint’s arm, pointed at the window. At first there was nothing. Then he saw movement. Pagana and Laura were looking too. Pagana whispered to Gina. “Pagana knows that man,” Gina whispered. “He is one of Bahaar’s tools. He knows Pagana.”
“How many rounds do you have left?” Flint asked Gina.
“I have a fresh magazine of five bullets in the gun and one cartridge in the chamber,” she replied.
“Let’s see if Pagana can lure him out here to let her in. Ask her if she is willing.”
Pagana and Gina whispered to each other. “She said yes, she will do it,” Gina relayed.
Pagana pushed the short, plastic lever down to activate the intercom. Her plaintive voice spoke in Greek. She said she was tired and scared. Flint, Gina, and Laura had stepped into dark shadows so they could not be seen from the gate. Flint and Gina both had their firearms in hand. Gravel crunched as a tall figure in a white skirted Greek military uniform approached. He unlocked the gate, drew it back as he invited Pagana to enter.
Flint stepped out of the darkness, held the .45 in the man’s face, took the Kalashnikov, forced the soldier to lie on his stomach. Pagana removed the short hemp rope she was wearing as a belt, used it to tie his wrists behind his back. Laura gagged him with her colorful silk scarf and silently took the soldier’s assault rifle out of Flint’s hand. She checked the chamber to see if it contained a round, saw that it did, let the bolt close silently. She moved the firing mode selector switch from continuous to single, so that one round only would be fired per trigger pull. Then she thought better of that, moved it back to shoot continuously as long as the trigger was held back. Flint took his own belt off, used it to bind the white skirted man’s ankles tightly together.
Gina led the way, followed single file by Flint, then by Laura. Pagana was close behind. Gina knew how to move through her own garden without making noise. The side door leading into the library was ajar the way the Greek soldier had left it.
Flint touched Gina’s shoulder, exchanged places with her, crouched, shoved the door wide open. Two men in expensive Italian suits stood chatting as they drank beer from Gina’s refrigerator. A woman with an automatic weapon, a U. S. made M-16, was watching a BBC news broadcast on TV. Ava and Mary were tied to each other and seated on the floor. Murphy and Fred were not in sight.
The woman had her M-16 ready to fire while her beer quaffing buddies were still registering surprise. Flint knew without thinking about it that she would be his first target. She was surprisingly fast but he was already squeezing the trigger and she was far from having him lined up for a shot. As the army Colt .45 in his hand was in process of firing, he heard the deafening clatter of the Kalashnikov.
Flint’s bullet knocked the M-16 across the room. Laura’s first shot struck the woman who had been trying to fire the automatic rifle. By the time Laura released pressure on the trigger, twenty more rounds had fired. Both beer drinkers were on the floor in shock, bleeding.
Flint cut the cords that tied Mary and Ava. They told him that Murphy was in the kitchen awaiting execution. Fred was in the living room, lying where he had been shot.
Ava moved quickly to the kitchen and released Murphy, took duct tape off of his mouth. Flint helped Murphy to an overstuffed recliner. Mary went to Fred, found him alive, beginning to moan and hold his head where a bullet had grazed him, leaving a raw line above his temple and ear. Mary helped him to a sofa.
Flint found Laura. “Hey, girl,” he said. “You’ll do to ride the river with.”
“Oh?” Laura responded.
“It’s a Texas expression that originated with cowboys working along the Rio Grande. Sometimes a downpour upstream would cause a wall of water to roar down the almost dry riverbed sweeping horse and rider to certain death—unless another rider plunged his horse and himself into the roiling torrent to attempt rescue. Often the rescue effort failed and both riders died. That’s how the ultimate Texas compliment is telling someone that they will do to ride the river with.”
“Thanks,” Laura said. “You’ll do to ride the river with yourself.”
Flint smiled. “Where did you get handy with an assault rifle?” he asked.
“ROTC in college,” she replied. “I did the first two years thinking about a career in the army but talked myself out of it.”
“That was impressive shooting,” Flint said.
“Hope Gina is not upset with me. I put a bunch of holes in her wall. I switched the Kalashnikov to single fire, but changed back to automatic because I wasn’t sure what we would face when you opened the door.”
Gina plugged her cell phone in to recharge, used the house’s land line to call two numbers. The second one was the police. The first one was Zeta’s cell. Gina told her about the two men she had killed at the restaurant, and she gave her the names on the identify papers carried by each of the four Bahaar people subdued at Gina’s house.
The police arrived, took the Greek soldier at the gate into custody, sent the woman and two men Laura had shot to an emergency room. The police interviewed Gina and Laura separately in Italian. Flint and Mary got interrogated together by the only police official on the scene who spoke English. The police allowed Ava to administer medical treatment to Fred and Murphy. By 2:00 A.M. the police had left.
Everyone was ready for sleep. Flint lay down on a couch in the library. Laura volunteered to stand guard. Gina made sure that the others found beds.
Chapter 17
Murphy accepted Flint’s help Wednesday morning to get a partial shower and change his clothes. Flint showered and dressed, gave Laura his sofa, and she went sound asleep. The cook made coffee to accompany the croissants and cheese and jelly she brought to Murphy who was texting on his smart phone with someone in the CIA. Gina hung up from talking on her cell p
hone.
“Flint,” she said. “Monsignor Ron sends you greetings. He says that the bodies of Bahaar and Jafe were found a few hours ago. It’s ruled as murder-suicide.”
Before Flint could respond, Murphy spoke. “Guess what else? One of our agents has discovered a video of Jafe implicating Bahaar in a plot to kill several people. I have the links to Davi Ruiz’s web site and to YouTube. It is posted both places.”
Ava walked in looking surprisingly fresh given the events of the night before. She wished Gina, Murphy, and Flint good morning, accepted a cup of tea from the cook. She had overheard Gina’s and Murphy’s reports and wondered if it was safe to go back to Austin and resume life as usual.
