by S. P. Perone
Observing Sarah’s unresponsive posture, her eyes staring straight ahead, he decided to provoke her.
“For someone who has cheated death, not once, but twice in the past twenty-four hours,cara , you don’t seem very grateful.”
As Sarah turned, involuntarily, to look at him, he continued, “You know about the first case, of course. The explosion that occurred after your abduction. I know you were unconscious at the time, but, surely, Shane told you what happened.
“You and your colleagues would have been killed in that explosion, except that Max insisted on delivering you to me with the StarSight package.
“But, you don’t even know how close you all came to a second horrible death. Your aircraft should have plunged from the air out of control as you cruised over the northeastern United States.”
It was then that Sharif proceeded to relate to Sarah the entire scope of the terrorist attack that he had planned with the help of Ali-Sheikh. He was gratified by Sarah’s rapt attention and the look of shear horror in her eyes as he described what would have been the effect of the nuclear EMP pulse.
“What a horrible, twisted human being you are!” Sarah hissed as Sharif finished his story. “Who are you? Why would you want to bring this kind of horrible death to hundreds of thousands of innocent people?”
Feeling his spirits rise as Sarah expressed her indignation, Sharif made a decision to share with her the story of his years of growing hatred for the United States. He began with the displacement of his father and family from their ancestral home after the formation of the State of Israel back in 1948.
Sarah listened with fascination to Sharif’s story. The depth of his hatred was chilling. She was amazed at his willingness to share the details of his role as the Bear; his association with the terrorist leader, Ali-Sheikh; and his contract with Max…first as the Bear, and then as Solomon. Gradually, as the frank telling of his life story evolved, it began to dawn on her that this evil brute would not be relating these tales to her if she were going to be allowed to live. Resigned to her fate, she stared blankly at Sharif/Bear/Solomon…no longer listening to what he was saying. Despairing that either Salomé or Tony could do anything to deter her captor, she wondered only how long she would live…and how painfully she might die.
Salomé was pleased to see the Mercedes turning south off the A10 towards Alassio, and she prepared herself to follow suit, thankful that at least one other car was turning off at the same exit. She was quite familiar with this part of the Italian Riviera, and she mentioned that fact to Shane.
“Have you spent time here before?” Shane asked.
“What do you think I do, work all the time, Tony? Carothers told you what my usual fee is for a job. I only need two or three contracts a year to live very well. As it happens, this area is one of my favorite playgrounds.”
Shane had not considered that Salomé might lead a normal life when not on a job. Looking over at her…clothed in her heavy-duty boots, jeans, and leather jacket…he had a sudden vision of a long-legged slender beauty in a bikini enjoying the sun, sand, and surf of the Riviera. That vision, and Salomé’s apparent willingness to talk about herself, prompted Shane to ask other questions that had been bothering him.
“Salomé, what prompted you to take on Solomon and help me? Surely, he expected you to kill me? What happened?”
“Yes. He did expect me to kill you. But, Solomon made a mistake this time, Tony. He appeared in person. This is not his style. I think he knew he was going to eliminate Max. Perhaps he had planned to kill me also. I don’t know. But, I didn’t give him a chance.
“What happened, Tony, was that I recognized Solomon. I know his real identity. I don’t think he recognized me…or else he would not have let me get away.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Ahmed Sharif. He’s a very wealthy U.S. businessman. Lives in Manhattan. Very respectable. Well-connected politically. No one would ever suspect him of being involved in espionage or terrorism. What is the most surprising is that he is fronting for the Israeli’s. His origins are Palestinian.”
“You say Solomon is Sharif? That’s incredible! Carothers just told me that Sharif was responsible for murdering Senator Moorhouse in Zurich last night…and that he was behind a major Arab terrorist plot against the U.S.”
“What? That doesn’t add up? The man we just met in Genoa was definitely Sharif.”
“Carothers said that Sharif had fled, and may have left Zurich. The murder took place early Thursday morning. So, it would have been possible for him to get to Genoa to meet with us around midnight.
“By the way, Carothers also said Sharif referred to himself as ‘the Bear’. Do you know anything about that?”
“The Bear! Of course, I’m familiar with that name. He’s been a client of mine before. Do you think that Solomon, Sharif, and the Bear are all the same person?”
“I don’t know. Why would Sharif be using two different names in this business, Salomé? Does it make any sense to you?”
Thinking for a moment, she answered, “It would only make sense if he were trying to trip up an operative who tried to play both sides at the same time. Solomon represented the Israelis. The Bear represented Palestinians.”
Then, as the preceding words formed on her lips, it hit her. This was what had been Max’s fatal error. He had been working on conflicting contractsfor the Bear and Solomon at the same time. She had only known about the contract with Solomon…to abduct Sarah and deliver the StarSight software. The decision to bomb the winery must have been a contract with the Bear. She hadn’t been told about that. Max had said it was a way to cover up the kidnapping.
After sharing this insight with Shane, she became quiet as she concentrated on trailing the Mercedes along the narrow road leading to Alassio, without detection. If the path of the Mercedes eventually took it along one of the many isolated roads leading to the villas along the coastline, she was afraid she would have to resort to running without headlights to remain undetected.
Because many questions were still unanswered, Shane persisted. “I still don’t understand why you decided to help us, Salomé. Just because you recognized Solomon?”
Salomé looked briefly over at Shane, returning his gaze with a thoughtful expression on her face…deciding how much she should reveal. Reaching a decision, she returned her gaze forward, and began to speak.
“I was barely eighteen…thirteen years ago…when I first met Sharif. I was earning a thousand dollars a night as a call girl in Manhattan.”
Turning briefly towards Shane, she added, “Can you believe that, Tony? Me? A call girl?”
With a smile on his face…remembering his vision of the bikini-clad Salomé on the beach…Shane nodded his head, and said, “I’m sure you were in great demand, Salomé.”
With a smile, she turned her eyes forward again, and continued her story. “I ran away from home at sixteen; before long I was on the streets, begging for spare change in Times Square, when this expensive suit pulled me aside and offered me a hundred bucks for a trip in his Porsche. Turns out he recruited me for his stable of girls. He specialized in clients who dug “jail bait”…the younger the better. I was almost at the top of the age spread.
“In less than a year I had become a regular for a handful of clients, earning four or five thousand a week…which was really top of the line in those days.
“That was when my manager told me he had a client who would pay five thousand for a one-night thing. He wasn’t interested in a regular. My manager said the guy was kinky…but harmless. I said, ‘what the Hell?’ Took the job.
“Well, theJohn was Sharif. I showed up at ten o’clock in the evening, and he paid me up front. Five thousand. And, the guy was really handsome, suave, intelligent. Let me tell you, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.
“Unfortunately, this guy wasn’t justkinky . He wasbrutal . Sexually, he was insatiable…but, that was OK. It was what he needed to get turned on. The more pain he could cause,
the more aroused he would get.
“I won’t give you the details, Tony. Let me just tell you that I ended up in the hospital with a broken jaw, rope burns, and numerous contusions…not to mention damage to my working parts.
“I don’t know how they avoided a police report, but I suspect a great deal of money changed hands. And, it probably wasn’t the first time.”
As she became silent, Shane realized his mouth had dropped open. He was speechless. And, really, there wasn’t anything he could say. His thoughts went to Sarah…now in the clutches of a man capable of these inhuman acts. He was more concerned than ever for her safety.
Reading Shane’s mind, Salomé spoke up. “Now you know why I decided to help you, Tony. As soon as I recognized Sharif, I knew immediately that he had no intention of using Sarah as a StarSight expert. He wants heronly to satisfy his owndepraved appetites . I accepted a contract to deliver a software package and an expert; I didn’t sign on to deliver asex slave for thatbeast .”
With her last statement, a quiet lull overtook both of them. Each returned their attention to trailing the car in the distance…a vehicle containing a deranged sexual predator…and his helpless prey.
Traversing the winding, secluded, coastal road leading to his villa, Sharif had slowed the Mercedes to under 30 kilometers per hour. He had visited the villa previously, when its previous owner, Gunther Leitz, the German movie producer, had passed away, and it was on the market. But, then he had had a driver managing the treacherous curves that hugged the sharp cliffs overlooking the Bay of Genoa in this region. Tonight, despite the moonlight, he was finding it difficult to follow the unlit road. Up ahead he knew the road would turn inland, and then pass by the gated entrance to the villa. He was only minutes away.
The estate was protected towards the sea by a sheer seventy-five foot cliff dropping down to a rocky shore with pounding surf. The inland side was protected by a double-layer of fencing. Exposed to the outside was an eight-foot-high brick wall that traversed the entire perimeter of the estate from sea cliff to sea cliff on either side of the villa. An eight-foot-high heavy-duty chain-link fence, topped with coiled razor ribbon, formed the inner layer of protection. Motion sensors and video monitors were placed throughout the protective double-layer. When the villa was fully staffed, security was maintained by two full-time guards. One of these would monitor the motion sensors and video displays, while the other would patrol the grounds. Now, however, the villa was empty, except for some personal items that Sharif had delivered previously. Periodic, but thorough, checks of the property were provided by an off-site security company.
Following the winding road inland, Sharif finally came to the gated entrance to his estate. Pulling up to the gate, he withdrew a remote control device from the glove compartment, and depressed the button. The first response was the motorized sideways movement of a heavy latching bar. Once the bar had moved aside, unlocking the gates, the large iron gates began to rotate inward, eventually allowing the Mercedes to pass. Depressing a second button caused the gates to close, and the latch to move back into place. The procedure was repeated to traverse the inner gate.
Following the long winding access road for about a quarter mile, the Mercedes arrived at the circular entrance drive, passing by the large covered marble terrace in front of half a dozen wide marble steps up to the grand high double-door entrance to the villa. Parking the Mercedes on the terrace, Sharif, went around to the passenger side, and opened the door. Reaching down and unlocking the ankle shackles, and then disconnecting the chain connecting the handcuffs to the ankle shackles, he helped Sarah step out of the car. With only her hands restrained, she was able to accompany him up the marble steps to the front door. Unlocking the double locks on the door with a key from his key chain, Sharif ushered Sarah into the spacious entry foyer.
As he turned on the lights, Sarah gasped at the vision of the expansive open marble floor centered beneath a high domed ceiling. A large crystal chandelier hung down from the center of the dome. Straight ahead, at the far end of the central rotunda was a wall of wooden-framed French doors leading to an outdoor terrace and swimming pool. To the left and right of the rotunda were corridors leading to living quarters. Matching circular staircases to the left and right led to a balcony above the back doors. This balcony formed an upper corridor to upstairs bedrooms on either side of the villa. What Sarah could not see at this time was the far side of the terrace behind the swimming pool, which overlooked the rocky shore below the sheer sea cliff.
“Yes, cara mia, it is an elegant, breathtaking sight, is it not?” Sharif said after Sarah had had a chance to look around. “Let me show you to your quarters.”
Grabbing her arm, Sharif guided Sarah up the right circular stairway, which also appeared to be constructed of marble. Once at the top of the stairway, he guided her to the right. On her left side, she could look out the windows at the swimming pool and terrace, which had also been lit up. It was then that she noticed the low, white, sculptured far wall, and the blackness of the sea beyond.
Reaching one suite of upper-level bedrooms, Sharif motioned Sarah into the second room on the left. Once inside, with the lights turned on, Sarah marveled at the decadent luxury of the room. Nearly a thousand square feet in size, the room included an ornate wooden poster bed; two large mirrored armoires; a mirrored dressing table; lamp tables on both sides of the bed; a love seat and easy chair; breakfast table with two chairs; and a large sunken Jacuzzi in one corner. All the wooden furniture pieces had a white satin finish. On one wall was a double set of French patio doors leading to a balcony overlooking the swimming pool, and providing an ocean view. A large bathroom, with tub and shower, was accessed through a door to the left of the entrance. With several lightly colored paintings of flowered country scenes hanging on the walls, the room projected a bright, fresh, airy atmosphere.
Under other circumstances, Sarah would have fallen in love with such a charming room. In this case, however, she could only feel a chilling apprehension for what might transpire here. The room looked to her more like a prison cell than anything else. She wondered how she could manage to accommodate herself in this facility while a handcuffed prisoner.
Reading her mind, Sharif spoke up. “As you can see from this beautiful room, I have every intention of making you as comfortable as possible, Sarah. There will be some obvious restrictions, however. You will have to remain constrained. For the moment the constraints will be your handcuffs. Later, if you are cooperative, simple confinement will be sufficient.”
“I would like to freshen up,” she said flatly. “Can you remove these handcuffs long enough for me to do that?”
“Ahh. I’m sorry,cara mia . I cannot set you free yet. But…we can make arrangements. I will re-attach the leg shackles and remove the handcuffs. Then, please feel free to use the bathroom. I will have to be present, though, I’m afraid. Then, I must restrain you in your room for a short time, while I freshen up. After that, we can discuss the conditions for removing your constraints.”
Despite feeling the need, Sarah declined the use of the bathroom. Sharif then unlatched one side of the handcuffs, and hooked it to one of the exposed painted water pipes leading into the Jacuzzi. He left Sarah there, seated in the unfilled Jacuzzi, while he retreated to the adjoining bedroom, leisurely bathed, and changed into lounging pajamas and slippers. His appetite for this lovely young woman was growing as he began to relax. With relish, he contemplated what he might experience over the next day or two…before he disposed of her.
Salomé had been running without headlights for a few kilometers. This was especially harrowing as they drove along the cliffside overlooking the ocean. Thankfully, the moonlight provided some help, but it required two pairs of alert eyes to avoid missing a curve and plunging over the side to their deaths.
Now, she pulled to a stop behind a clump of trees as she observed the Mercedes pull into a drive in front of a gated entrance. She turned and whispered to Shane, “I can’t believe it. Our
luck is with us, Tony. They’re pulling into Gunther Leitz’s estate. I know the place well. Gunther had me as his guest many times before he passed away.”
“What kind of place is it?” Shane asked.
“There’s a large completely enclosed estate…maybe ten acres…with a large villa overlooking the ocean…and a sharp drop-off of about 70 or 80 feet to the sea.”
After providing Shane with a brief description of the villa, and the surrounding fences, Salomé followed by beginning to lay out a plan to gain access to the estate and rescue Sarah.
Interrupting her, Shane asked, “Shouldn’t we contact Carothers and let him know where we are and what’s going on?”
“Tony. I can’t tell you what to do. But, let me lay out what will happen if Carothers gets Interpol involved. They’ll come in with helicopters and SWAT teams. And, Sarah will be dead before they even reach the wall.”
Stunned at the bluntness of her statement, Shane asked simply, “What do you propose we do?”
“We split up. You try to find a way through the fencing. I’ll come around to the seaside, and scale the cliff wall. One of us should get there.”
“What do we do if one of us can get inside?”
“We’ll carry firearms. I’ll pack a rifle with a scope sight, so I can pick him off without going inside the villa. I know you’re inexperienced, Tony, so I recommend you take this 45-caliber pistol. I’ll show you the basics.”
She handed him a compact Smith & Wesson CS45 aluminum/stainless pistol. At only 24 ounces and 3 and a quarter inch barrel, it was a practical weapon for someone who would be on the move.
“Don’t you think you’d be better off with the smaller firearm? I can take the rifle. I can’t imagine you scaling that cliff with a rifle hanging around your shoulder,” Shane volunteered.
