by Tom Haase
He waited and watched Scott. Following his plan would produce the exact location of Bridget. His revenge could be so sweet with her gaining the book and then losing it, and he would, at last, achieve her death.
Scott's quandary showed in his face. They needed the money right away if they were going to pursue this quest.
“No deal.” Scott rose to leave. The kid stayed obstinate. He attempted to play the game, but he was a beginner without the finesse needed to win.
“Please remain,” Schultz said. “I can see your point on the twenty percent as it will provide you cash to get resettled in your reclaimed positions. I agree to five percent.”
Scott sat and nodded. How easy to give him something he would never collect. Kesi would see to that.
“Ten,” Scott said.
He nodded as he decided to go ahead and spring the last part of his plan instead of waiting any longer, the part that would ensure his success in achieving both of his goals.
“There is one more condition.”
“I will have to talk to my sister but I see no alternative and accept your offer. What other condition could you possibly have?” Scott said in a surrendering voice.
“To ensure my investment, my daughter, Gertrude, will accompany you at every stage of this journey. This is not negotiable. It is the protection I insist upon for my money.”
He observed Scott's face conceding defeat as he realized there were probably no alternatives, no more negotiating position, and no other escape route. At last, he gave a consenting nod.
“Okay, if that's the way it has to be.” He should have talked to Bridget more about these contingencies.
Schultz walked over to the door next to the wide-framed window overlooking Central Park, opened it, and called his daughter.
“Gertrude, could you come in here, please?”
Scott stood up in anticipation of meeting the daughter. He heard the footsteps approaching. He froze on seeing the black-haired beauty appear.
The bitch from the Smithsonian hallway sauntered toward him.
Chapter 13
Alexandria, Egypt
Kesi Kanika puffed away on his water pipe. This pleasure palace reeked of smoke as western music bombarded the air. A few nets, mistresses, moved about the place and served tea. The sun set four hours ago and he needed to relax. The money arrived into his account from Schultz and now he could enjoy himself.
The weeks in hospital, the three surgeries to fix his bowels and the interminable therapy, at last, he didn't need that any more. The pain faded over the weeks, and his mobility returned, so also his needs.
“May I sit?” he asked. She radiated beauty in this low-lit room and oozed sexuality with her large body. She could definitely handle him.
“Come closer,” he urged. His hand went around her waist as he sat.
“Where are you from?” she asked. “You aren't from around here.”
“I come from the Upper Nile. It's a long way. I need comforting.”
“I believe I can comfort you, big man. Do you know all the right words?” She wiggled closer to him.
“How much? If that is the right word.”
She told him.
“Does that include everything?” She nodded, and he moved his hand to her breast to signal acceptance. As he squeezed it, he realized it would take both hands to work on such a large melon. She took the cash from his free hand before he started to employ it together with his other hand.
With Schultz's money now in his account, he could afford a little distraction after all his suffering. He needed a little fun while waiting for a destination. Sooner or later the location of the woman would appear in his email, and he would be off to finish his contract. The pleasure of offing the Donavan bitch would exceed any pleasure he would get in the next few minutes in the arms of this hunky bed worm massaging his crotch. But right now he felt immediate needs, and she would relieve them. There would be a quick pounding of her body with his manhood, and he would relieve himself and enjoy it.
The red-haired devil demon Donavan, on the other hand, would not be quick. She would suffer, maybe for hours, after he raped her repeatedly and then disemboweled her. He would watch her life slip away for as long as it took, maybe hours, and he would remember all of his pain. She would suffer like he did from the gut wound, but she would die.
The bought piece of flesh next to him stood up, pulling him after her. He rushed to follow—to have a woman, to relieve the urgency in his groin.
The shabby room offered a large bed that had a duvet flung in a haphazard manner over a few pillows and a single small wooden chair in the corner. No pictures or any kind of decoration on the walls. The door might as well have been made out of rice paper. She turned him around to face the bed and massaged his crotch, opening his pants and took his manhood in her mouth.
Kesi felt the warm mouth on him and tensed in anticipation. His need urged him to want her. “Come on, get on the bed.”
She stood up and confronted him. “That will be one hundred more to ride me.”
“You said the price was for everything.”
“That's before I saw how you are built, big man. I need more to let you fuck me. Come on, it's just a little, and I promise to be good for you,” she cooed the last as she played with his exposed member.
Kesi produced the bill, threw her on her back, and mounted her. It felt good as he rode her. But she had ripped him off. He pushed hard into her and took his time now that he paid the extorted money.
Briefly, his mind flashed back to his village life. A place far away from this whore house and a time of pleasant memories. They had grown up together and made love in their fifteenth year. He went off to visit his cousin in the capitol for a week and on returning, he found the village leveled by government troops and his parents murdered and the love of his life machine-gunned to death. He joined the resistance and flourished as a dispenser of justice to all those his commanders ordered killed for collaborating with the government forces. He would sneak into the bedroom at night and knock out the husband. Then tie up the woman and hang the man by his arms from any beam available. He would take a few minutes exploring the body of the tied-up female before he raped her. He made sure the husband watched. When he exploded inside her he would slit her throat with his combat knife and then on his way out he would slice open the man's bowels and let him die watching his wife's blood drain away.
The big woman moaned to get him to finish faster. She faked enjoying him in her, but he knew that he would use her till he felt like finishing. She reminded him of being on top of a waterbed without any baffles when he pushed into her. He had seen such a bed in the house of a monster he killed in front of his wife, before raping and killing her. He used the bed at that time to enjoy her. But now he needed to relieve his desire and he finished with a loud exhale of pleasure.
Afterwards, she rose and left him to dress, no doubt hurrying off to find her next client. After leaving the establishment, which occupied a small store area in what would be a strip mall in many places, he walked only a minute to find a bar and ordered a beer.
He waited. He always paid back anyone who double-crossed him.
At two in the morning all became quiet and the bar closed. He went out and waited in the recess of the storefront. From his location he could see the front of the whorehouse, and in a minute three women appeared. They split up after saying their farewells, and Kesi followed his target.
She ambled down the street and when she reached the end of the shops, he struck. He pulled her backwards around the corner into the alley and down.
Her hair slid in his hand but he grabbed her mouth to ensure no call for help escaped her mouth, and his other hand brought the knife up to plunge it in under her jaw. He felt the blood slide down over his hand as he drew the blade across the fat neck. Her body lost its ability to stand. The woman collapsed. In the faint streetlight he could see that she recognized him.
“Never cheat on a deal. You ripped me off
for more money than agreed.” He watched as her eyes closed.
He used the woman’s scarf to clean his hands and wiped the blade on her dress. Her purse lay a few feet away. He emptied the contents over her body. There were many currency notes, and he spread them around on the ground and on the body. That would ensure whoever found her would mess up the crime scene by recovering all the scattered bills. Last, he bent over and picked up a one hundred-note bill and walked away.
The next morning, feeling great and smiling at the world, he entered a local café, paid the manager to use his computer and signed into his email account. The long expected message appeared.
“Go to Jerusalem.”
Chapter 14
New York
Benjamin Schultz poured his daughter a gin and tonic and asked her to take a seat. Scott's departure allowed them to have a family council. This would be a confrontation and might prove to be more difficult than the negotiations with the Donavan boy.
He observed Gerti's up turned lips, a sure sign that she could barely contain her anger. He took his time to win this imminent battle.
“Just a second, I have to do something,” he said. Turning his back on her, he went to his computer and sent a message to Kesi.
Go to Jerusalem. Do not, I repeat, do not approach the woman. Observe only. You will receive further instructions and double pay, which is now in your account to cover any added expenses. Wait for my instructions.
He returned to face his daughter. The battle about to begin.
Gertrude started as soon as he returned. “What the hell are you up to, father?” She looked stunning in the white outfit with the Egyptian symbol of eternal life around her neck. The silver medal beautifully offset the dark skin that she received from her deceased mother. He had met his late wife at the university in Cairo when he was studying for his degree. In love with her from the first day, he pursued her until they were married. A decade of a happy and prosperous marriage with three beautiful children passed before the breast cancer took her away from him.
“Now, dear,” he started.
“Don't give me that. You're up to something. You haven't told me anything today, and then that moron I met at the Smithsonian appears in our apartment. I met him when I delivered the Apache Medicine Man's rattle and pipes that you managed to acquire from that Canadian archaeologist. What the hell is going on with Scott Donavan? He's a worker bee at the Smithsonian for god's sake.” She stared at him with the smug look that he hated. She discovered that Scott wasn’t a “worker bee” and taunted him. She squinted her left eye and crunched her shoulders. That one motion did more to disrupt the image of pure beauty that anything else she could do. He knew she did it when she became more than a little upset.
“I'm sorry that I did not have time to talk to you before he arrived. You’d just gotten back and were freshening up when he got here. I thought we would have a chance to talk before, but the situation didn't allow it.” He decided not to mention the fact that she’d taken over an hour and a half to clean up, as she called it.
“Who the hell is he?” She apparently wanted to make him answer something she already knew.
Schultz gave her an abbreviated précis of the life of the Donavans.
“I heard you say that I am to go with him to Jerusalem.” She pounded on the edge of the chair as she said, “I'm not.”
“I want you to listen to me.” Schultz tried to take control of the conversation.
“Father, you're not listening,” Gertrude said as she stood up and approached him. “Not going. Not going. Not going. That's final.”
Shultz peered at his daughter and tried to stare her down. He sensed her anger overrode her judgment at this point.
“You see, I'm going to the most prestigious of all gala parties in New York on Saturday night,” she said. “I'm not about to be in some dust-ridden hotel in Jerusalem following this janitor idiot.”
He listened with patience as he moved to refill his scotch glass. He strained to keep his eyes on her as much as possible to show that he paid attention. Her hand came up and she ran fingers through her jet-black hair, using both hands at the same time, flipping them out as she pushed through her hair.
“Father, you wanted me to be immersed in all of our operations so that I could continue doing the business and someday be able to take it over. The best way I can do that is be here in New York where I can be among the people who can make us rich. Make us richer. If I am traipsing off on some search for a bible that you said before doesn't even exist. I cannot further our business opportunities.”
She turned away from his stare, a good sign. She might be running out of steam. Schultz now realized that she must have been listening to some or all of the conversation with Scott Donavan while in her room. At least now she was being reasonable, and he had a way of approaching her with some of her own logic. She would see the advantage of doing it his way, but it would take her a few more minutes to accept the consequence of giving up her customary social life in order to take on this new venture.
Schultz remembered that she hadn't always been this way. Many times she'd gone off on a quest of her own. She'd get a piece of antiquity, a dinosaur bone, or some precious gem to add to their collection for trading or bartering. She had become quite adept at turning things into a handsome profit. Schultz believed it too long since she participated in a chase. One needed to do that from time-to-time to keep abreast of what the opposition would do to thwart any undertaking.
“Speaking of business opportunities my dear, I believe this might be one of the rarest of all. I need you to be there to protect our interest. There could also be some complications on this mission, and I believe it is necessary for you to supervise all of the events.”
“What complications?” She asked.
“There are some things that may happen, and it would be better at this point in time if you didn't know.” He did not want to go into the details of what Kesi planned to do nor why. Schultz never shared with her why he had hatred, not just a simple hatred, but a perpetual burning anger to see Bridget Donavan dead. Gertrude might understand, for it concerned her brother after all, but it became a father's duty to take care of this matter.
“If you're not going to share everything with me, how can I be your partner and learn how to take over this business.” Her anger slowly dissipated. He never used the threat of disowning her if she did not do what he wished, but in this case he would if it came to that. He needed her to be there and he needed her to report what went on. Without knowing all the details, she would not act in any suspicious way with the Donavans and that would be to her advantage. With her reports, he would easily manage to control the actions from afar. He hoped that she now accepted his request to send her.
“All right, tell me everything about what's really going on. Why are we going after this Bible?”
The smart thing would have been to let her vent, but now he needed to cajole her into doing his will.
Gertrude listened as he told her all of the details that Scott conveyed to him before he departed for Washington. When Schultz finished, she sat in silence, deep in thought with her eyes darting back and forth. She wiggled her cheeks in a sign that Schultz knew signaled the final stage before she accepted his bidding. There would, however, be a price for him to pay.
“So we're going to be the backers sponsoring the ones to go on the mission to find this book. Then we get the Bible. Do I have it right? We pay for the expedition, the risk is ours, they have nothing to lose, everything to gain, and we get the book. Is that it? What are we going to do with it? Is there something in it that makes it different from our bibles today? Something that changes the Christian religion?”
“When you bring it back here, I'll tell you.” He gave her a smile.
“What's in it for me? For us?” she asked with a coquettish smile that indicated that she had given in but wanted something.
“For you, there will be that BMW Z9 Cabriolet,” he said, embracing her in a hug
.
“And for us?” she pressed.
He had her. She would do it now. He needed her to be there at all times to know what Bridget did. Once they got the book, he would order Kesi into action on both Donavans. No loose ends on this venture. The money for the Bible exceeded anything he had ever accomplished in the past and his daughter would take the credit for the discovery if it ever became public knowledge. He planned to conduct his business on this matter in private.
“I have already contacted two of the most discrete buyers I know about this. If we can produce an authentic and documented Bible of Constantine, the initial return on our five hundred thousand should be at least fifty million when the bidding starts.”
Schultz realized that his daughter would soon be ready to take over the business. This trip should mold her into the perfect successor to his empire. She needed to bring back the Bible without anyone left behind who might know about it.
“That money goes into my dowry chest. I'll go pack.”
Chapter 15
Belem, Brazil
Bridget roused herself from a deep sleep. Her phone clanged like an old-fashioned fire alarm bell. What did she expect in this inexpensive hotel, tinkling chimes? As she sat up in bed, she took stock of the time on her wristwatch, after midnight.
“Bridget wake up. We have to talk.” Scott's voice boomed in her ear.
“This had better be good. You interrupted the first good night's sleep I've had in weeks,” Bridget said while propping the pillows up under her back.
“Listen, I just got back from New York. Mr. Schultz sent his private jet down to pick me up, took me to New York to have a conversation, and then flew me back to Reagan National.”
Bridget jumped out of the bed and pulled the phone off the nightstand forgetting that it wasn’t a mobile phone. It fell to the floor with a loud clatter. She picked it up and set it back on the nightstand and flopped herself back onto the bed. She overreacted for sure. He had to be joking.
