by Stone, M. T.
“Yeah, I feel pretty good, but my knee is really sore for some reason,” he tells me with a puzzled look on his face. He looks down and begins to work the sides of it with his thumb and forefinger.
“It’s an old injury,” I tell him, wanting to gauge his reaction. “You need to have a knee replacement as soon as you are strong enough.”
Mom shoots me a dirty look, but Tyler simply replies, “Ahh, that makes sense. That thing really hurts.” He continues to rub it while I introduce Gator to Mom and Vanessa.
“Dr. Novacek seemed anxious to get Tyler released after learning why Bolt was staying in his room,” Mom whispers to Anthony and me as Bolt comes trotting down the hallway. “Dr. Potaturri’s death is now being investigated as a murder, so it hit a little too close to home.”
“I just told the doc to give me a call if he sees anything suspicious,” Bolt tells us as he joins our small group. “Romeo is pulling up to the main entrance with the limo.” He points out the window as the shiny black limousine comes to a stop just outside the door.
“Are you ready to go home?” Mom asks Tyler as she releases the brakes and Vanessa begins to push him toward the door.
“Do I know where home is?” he asks, with an uncertain look on his face.
“Don’t worry, you will see,” Mom says, patting him on the arm. “It will be good for all of us to be together for a few days,” she adds, turning to make eye contact with Vanessa.
“I agree,” Vanessa replies with a soft sigh. “Hopefully, being in the place where he grew up will trigger some good memories for him.”
Mandy
Silvia and Vanessa are the most relaxed that I have seen either of them since the day I met them. It’s probably due to the fact that Tyler is being released from the hospital and no one has died since the Alpha 9 arrived on the scene. After we get them situated in the limo, Trey and I hop in with Anthony to follow them over to Trump Tower.
“Tyler looks pretty good,” I tell Trey as we pull out of the parking lot and turn north on First Avenue. “He doesn’t seem to have any withdrawal symptoms.”
“Yeah, I was just disappointed to see him focused on that knee again,” Trey replies with a look of disgust. “He needs to go in for surgery as soon as possible. He obviously has been dealing with a lot of pain.”
“If they aren’t going to give him any pain pills, hopefully he can have it done soon.” I can only imagine what it’s like to be in excruciating pain all day long.
“There is a black sedan tailing us again,” Anthony says, his eyes darting between all three of the mirrors. “They are keeping their distance, but they are definitely following us.”
“Are they trying to intimidate us or do you think we are actually in danger?” I ask, not really sure if I really want to know the truth.
“I think you two are in danger as long as Tommy knows you are still snooping around and looking for answers,” Anthony replies, giving us a harsh glare through the mirror.
“So you think we should just keep letting him get away with everything?” Trey asks, sitting forward in his seat and returning a glare of his own.
“Not at all, but stop poking the bear for a minute,” he replies, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You’ll get a lot better results if you are a little more covert instead of attacking him head-on,” he explains in a completely rational tone.
“I suppose you are right,” Trey relents. “His arrogance just pisses me off, so it makes me want to go toe to toe with him. I’d love to introduce his smug face to my fist.” Trey sits back, looking out the side window.
There is a long history between Trey and Tommy that goes back to when Tommy stole Vanessa from him in high school. I’m sure that part of him would love to have a reason to beat the shit out of Tommy, but it’s probably not going to go down that way.
I reach over and place my hand on his thigh and give him a warm smile. “You hurt a guy like Tommy by bruising his ego, not his face. We will find a mistake somewhere that will take a toll on his reputation as well as his bank account.”
“That’s why he threw all the money into a Trust in Belize though,” Trey replies still focused on civil action. “I’ve read about how hard they are to penetrate.”
“But there are two organizations who have had some success,” I remind him. “The SEC and the IRS. I’m still an attorney with the SEC, so we’ll pay a visit to the New York branch tomorrow morning with or without Harris’ help.”
“Okay,” Trey relents. “We’ll try it your way.”
“In the meantime, I’ll contact my guys in Chetumal and have them run down Carly Snow,” Anthony adds, still scanning his rearview mirrors. “If she is in charge, she obviously hasn’t curtailed the mission yet or this car wouldn’t be tailing us.”
He makes a call to Romeo letting him know that we are going to lag back and create some distance between the limousine and us. “There is no use endangering everyone,” he tells us after hanging up the phone. “Besides, I don’t think we are in much danger in this vehicle, except for maybe getting a paint scuff or a dent.”
“Hey, don’t mess up my new ride,” Trey replies with a laugh. “If you start swapping paint, you’ll have to go back to driving your brown one.”
Anthony cocks his head and shoots Trey a look without saying a word.
“I was joking,” he says with another chuckle. “You can go ahead and beat the hell out of it, as long as we take down Carly and Tommy. This thing is insured.”
As we pull up to the corner of fifty-sixth and fifth in front of Trump Tower, we are greeted by an extremely rare open parking spot. Anthony swings straight into it and looks back over his left shoulder as the black sedan is forced to continue past us. Unfortunately, the windows are too dark to see who is inside and there is a license plate cover that prevents us from getting the plate number from the back of the car.
“Romeo already dropped off the others, so you guys go on in,” he says, “I’m going to go park in the garage with him. That way he and Bolt can keep an eye on both vehicles.”
Trey and I jump out of the vehicle and jog quickly down to the street corner, not feeling overly safe since the black sedan is still somewhere in the vicinity. “I wonder who was in that car,” I ask as we round the corner and come to the famous gold doors of Trump Tower.
“I’m willing to bet that one of them is the blond spiky haired dude, The Ghost or whatever they call him,” Trey replies, looking back over his shoulder. “That fucker creeps me out.”
Chapter 11
Trey
After having dinner and getting everyone settled at Trump Tower, I spend nearly forty minutes with Aileen and her mother trying to convince them to stay put. I understand their need to make funeral arrangements, but Bill’s body won’t even be available for at least two more days. In an attempt to appease them, I give them an iPad and pull up a couple sites where they can research vault and casket options as well as flower arrangements.
Honestly, I’m anxious to escape back to the St. Regis for some alone time with Mandy. It’s literally one block between the two buildings, but Anthony insists that he will be coming along as a chaperone. We finally make it out the door and into the common area, when we are stopped dead in our tracks by a conversation that Mom is having with Crusher.
“Can I touch it?” she is asking him, as she reaches for one of his exposed biceps. “I have honestly never seen anything so huge.” If I had simply heard her request without seeing what was going on, my mind would’ve went straight into the gutter. “Do you lift weights constantly or what?” she adds, running her hand along the top of his bulging muscle.
“Three or four times a week,” he grunts, beaming with pride.
“That’s amazing. How much do you eat?” she continues with her inquisitive line of questioning.
“Everything I can get my hands on,” he snarls, giving her a wink.
“That’s sad… I just look at food and I gain a pound or two.” She snickers and shakes her head
, still focusing on his arm.
“Maybe you’ll have to join me at the gym and we can turn that around for you,” he suggests lowering his arm and taking her hand in his as if he’s going to ask her to dance.
“I’m almost fifty,” Mom replies, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “I was never one to frequent the gym, even when I was young and in better shape.” She turns to the side and her eyes meet mine. “Trey! Can you believe the arms on this guy? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah, I thought he looked like the incredible hulk without the green makeup,” Mandy chimes in before I have a chance to speak.
“Oh, but he is much more handsome,” Mom counters, apparently trying to see if she can make him blush. “Although, I’ll bet those veins in your neck really bulge when you are angry,” she adds touching one of them. “I would never want to see that.”
“No one does, because they usually end up dead,” Anthony tells her as we proceed out into the common area. “I’m going to escort Trey and Mandy over to the St. Regis. I know they think I’m being overprotective, but I would rather be too careful.”
“That’s why I’m sticking close to Crusher,” Mom replies, still beaming. “I’ve never felt more safe and secure.”
“I don’t think that’s all you’re feeling, Mom.” I throw her a sideways glance.
“Oh stop!” she scoffs, slapping me on the arm as I pass by. “I’m just having a little fun.”
“I know. So am I,” I tell her, reaching out to give her a one-arm hug. “I’m glad Tyler is back home. He seems to be better than he has been in a long time.”
“Yeah, I think losing his memory might turn out to be a blessing for both he and Vanessa,” she says with a reserved smile. “I’m hoping they will go ahead with the knee replacement within a few weeks. I know they are nervous about having to put him on pain killers again, though.”
“Pain killers might be a bad thing in the short run, but longer term he will be much better off,” I tell her, giving her one more squeeze. “We’ll see you guys in the morning.”
I slip my arm around Mandy’s waist and guide her straight to the elevator. My goal is to get out of here before anyone else decides they need something from us. I’m no longer worried about anyone’s safety since Bolt, Crusher, Gator and Romeo are all staying here for the night.
“How do I look, boss?” Romeo yells across the room as he comes jogging toward us.
“You look like someone headed to Belize to meet with a banker,” Anthony replies with a sneer. “I’m sending Romeo down to help piece things together on that end.”
“That’s good,” I tell him, fully agreeing with his decision. “If Carly really is involved as deeply as Tommy claims, I think she might have gotten in over her head.”
“Sometimes you don’t know for sure until the last stone is turned,” he replies, giving me a thought-filled stare.
“What happened to Jules?” I ask as we step into the elevator.
“She had to go home and get some rest. She fights in Atlantic City on Friday night.” Anthony punches the button for the lobby. “We should all go see her perform some time. I know she would appreciate a show of support.”
“That would be great,” Mandy replies enthusiastically. “I’ve always been amazed by how tough those girls are. I can’t imagine taking that kind of abuse.”
I place my hands on her hips and pull her backward toward me, my growing bulge nestling between her firm butt cheeks. “I’m going to give you some abuse a little later,” I whisper softly in her ear. She moans softly and leans back against me.
“You two should know, I have excellent hearing,” Anthony tells us after clearing his throat. He looks over at us, revealing a definite smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll go to my room and put on my headphones when we get back to the hotel.” He laughs before turning back to the flashing lights that are tracking our descent to the lobby.
Mandy
An eerie feeling washes over me as we exit Trump Tower and are greeted by a brisk breeze. It smells like a storm is on its way. It reminds me of how we used to sit out on the porch at the farm and watch the lightning when storms were approaching. I still love the smell of rain, but the sound of the wind swirling between the buildings gives me the creeps.
I’m suddenly forced into a jog as we cross the street, trying to keep pace with Anthony. It’s interesting to watch how he moves in quick bursts, keeping close to the side of the building at all times. He holds out his arm, guiding us to follow suit. It feels as if we are in a war zone and he is guiding us through a minefield. We turn the corner onto East Fifty-Fifth Street and I’m relieved to see the awning of the St. Regis hotel protruding out above the sidewalk. Anthony takes another quick look over his right shoulder and then appears to relax his pace as we cross the street and head into the entrance.
“Did you see them?” he asks after we are safely inside.
“No,” both Trey and I reply simultaneously. “Where were they?” Trey asks, looking a bit surprised.
“Look straight down at the corner, in front of the church… the second car in,” he says pointing through the large plate glass window. “It’s a black sedan with the same license plate cover that we saw earlier.”
“Okay, I’m sorry for doubting the need for your protection,” Trey gasps. “I never would’ve never noticed their car since it’s parked in front of that yellow cab.” He gives Anthony a look of disbelief.
“That’s what six years of surviving two wars will do for you,” he replies giving Trey a slap on the back. “My gut is telling me that this isn’t The Ghost,” Anthony adds as we head across the lobby to the elevator.
“Why?” I ask, surprised that he is contradicting everything we have heard so far.
“He’s called The Ghost for a reason,” Anthony says, while greeting the bellman. “By the time you see him, you are dead. Bill and Dr. Potaturri would have seen him, but neither you nor Nolan would have. And if he set out to kill Tyler, he would not be breathing right now.” Anthony pauses as if he’s in deep thought.
“I don’t even want to know what you guys are talking about,” the bellman says as he punches the button for our floor.
“Maxim Sakarov is his real name and he was an FSB legend,” Anthony continues, completely ignoring the bellman’s comment. “The FSB is the modern day version of the KGB and he was hand picked by Putin to expand its role in 2003. In 2013, he decided to go out on his own.”
“Vladimir Putin?” Trey gasps, obviously not realizing the caliber of people we have been dealing with.
“Yes,” he replies before falling silent again.
“Have a good evening,” the bellman says sheepishly, holding the elevator doors open for us. I want to whisper a smartass comment to him on the way out, but refrain due to Anthony’s proximity. It’s probably for the best, as he already seems to be way outside of his comfort zone. Instead, Trey hands him a nice tip and we proceed in silence.
“It would be like him to drive a black sedan, since there are probably a thousand just like it in mid-town alone, but he would most likely be operating alone.” Anthony continues to analyze the situation out loud while swiping the keycard and opening the door to our suite. He does a quick sweep of the main rooms, pistol in hand, to make sure no one is lurking inside. “I’m sorry to be so paranoid, but I don’t like not knowing exactly who I am dealing with.”
“So let me get this straight. Vladimir Putin recruited a guy who had spiked blond hair and a switchblade tattoo on his neck?” Trey asks with a note of sarcasm, as we have all seen how conservatively Vladimir dresses.
“Oh, God no!” Anthony bursts out laughing. “He went that route after he was out on his own. He looked like your typical Russian agent prior to the change. Officials within the Russian Federation insisted that he had suffered a mental break down, but there were persistent rumors that a subordinate had attempted to poison him.”
“So, anyway, you don’t think we are dealing with The Ghost?” I ask
, wanting to stay focused on getting to the root of Anthony’s concerns.
“No. I think we are dealing with a copy cat,” Anthony says bluntly. “Someone who probably wishes he were The Ghost. Although, he has gotten away without a trace each time, so he’s obviously not an amateur.”
“Tommy is a wannabe, so it would be like him to hire one,” Trey adds as he pours himself several fingers of cognac. “Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll try a small glass of that,” I reply, thinking I should try to acquire a taste for it.
“I’ll stick to Jack,” Anthony quips, heading to the bar to help himself. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” He grabs a glass, fills it with ice and takes the bottle to his bedroom.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Trey asks seductively after hearing the click of Anthony’s door. “The bathtub and the floor again?”
“No, tonight I want the bed,” I whisper, running my fingers along his masculine jawline. “Let’s go mess up those ridiculously luxurious sheets.”
“I like how you think.” He pulls my lips to his and gives me a steamy, cognac infused kiss. I think I’m already beginning to like cognac.
Trey
Feeling my dick nestled between her ass cheeks during our short elevator ride was enough to rile my hormones. Indecent thoughts had have been flickering through my mind all throughout the day. Being so close to her, but constantly surrounded by others has taken its toll on me. I take her hand and lead her down the hallway to our Master Suite. Once inside, I turn the deadbolt to ensure our privacy and keep the rest of the world at bay.
“Long days and short nights are wearing me out,” Mandy comments, slipping her arms around my waist and pulling me close. “I didn’t even get a chance to finish getting ready this morning.”
“It was kind of nice seeing you in yoga pants all day,” I comment, tugging at her earlobe with my lips. “Although, it has been difficult to endure your teasing. You kept bending over in front of me.” I slide my hands along the firm, smooth curves of her ass and gently give her a squeeze.
