Tom paced around the room, slowly and carefully as they observed the horrific picture in front of them. Patrick attempted to leave, but Tom held out his hand for Patrick to stay. “Daniel Olivetti never trusted me with this part of your family business,” Patrick said.
“It’s a new era,” Tom replied. All, except Sebastian, had a look of horror on their faces.
“That is Chavez. Video tape surveillance from the party two nights ago placed him as the perpetuator. The FBI doesn’t know this yet, but Chavez actually placed C4s into the gun cartridge of all security guards two nights ago. So, it was impossible for my uncles, your fathers, to escape their fate…death,”
Everyone paused. “Now, if you think I’m not good enough to take over as CEO, you may leave – Now!” Tom said before continuing. Daniel Junior stood up slightly. He looked around, hoping others might do likewise. Fear gripped him. He sat down. Sebastian sat on the sidelines to observe.
“How did you find him?” Ted Olivetti asked.
“I luckily put the pieces together,” Tom replied briefly. “You tortured him to death?” Francisco, a human rights lawyer and son of George Olivetti asked.
“It’s called getting information,” Trevor replied. “Oh yea? Tell that to the FBI when they find out,” Francisco replied. Tom sighed.
“What’s done is done. I now know who is behind the assassination,” Tom added.
“That’s obvious, it’s that Sanchez motherfucker,” Sebastian replied.
“Well, yes and no. Sanchez ordered the hit, but there’s someone else high up the food chain,” Tom replied.
“Who?” Ted asked.
“I can’t tell you just yet. All I know is, he’ll have to die in order for us to survive the next few months. In the meantime, we’ll have to organize our finances,”
Sebastian cleared his throat. “We can’t do that just yet. We need to have a meeting with all mob families to establish that we’re standing strong, despite our loss,”
“I know uncle. I’ll leave that to you and Trevor to handle. Call for a meeting in two days. Right before the funeral,” Tom said. Sebastian nodded.
Tom faced Daniel Junior. “DJ. I know you’re older than I am and you feel like I have ripped you off your birthright. However, if there’s any time we need to stand strong, it is now! That’s why I’m putting you in charge of all things financial. At least, till my father gets back on his feet. You will address the board of directors on my behalf,”
Daniel Junior was angry, but he nodded in agreement. “Ted, I need you to establish a fore front in Chicago. The Decatur and Chicago mob will try to undermine our authority by rebelling against their dues.” Ted nodded with a smile. He was surprised to see Tom take control.
“Francisco, you’re now the head of the legal department,” Tom added. “There’s a legal department? I didn’t know that,” Francisco asked. “Now, there is. We’re going to launder our last piece of criminal money by the end of this month. After this month, nothing illegal will be traced to the Olivetti family. We need to renew our image,” Tom said.
“How do you propose we do that? You boys may not know, but we have thrived on the money mob families pay us by helping them launder their money,” Sebastian replied.
“I know that. Right now, we have the manpower to acquire anything we want. This month, all crime ends! This is the last crime we are to commit….” Tom replied.
“Charles and William, I know you have ties to law enforcement agencies. Keep your insiders in check. They’ll soon find Chavez’s body. Make sure they’re compensated to keep it down,” Tom added. They both nodded.
“Good. Brothers, a war is brewing. A war we cannot imagine. A war that cannot be explained with words. The only advantage we have is we’re ready for it,” Tom said as he walked towards the door.
“And what will you be doing?” Daniel Junior asked spitefully.
“I’ll be visiting Mexico,”
28
Present day
Agent Weaverstudied his investigation board. Pictures of all crime families, newspaper articles and sticky notes, were on the board. Red threads were used to connect each picture. He had crossed out the images of the late Don Daniel Olivetti and his brothers with a red marker. With no adequate leadership, the mob will be in shambles. More likely than not, he assumed Sebastian would take over as Don.
He sighed in frustration as he looked at the pictures of the murder scene in the Olivetti mansion—powerful men blown to pieces in a desperate attempt to be safe. It was ironic, really. For some reason, he felt sorry for the Olivetti family. So much death. So much suffering. He could only imagine what their wives and children were going through. Now he could understand why they had to do so much evil to protect themselves.
It wasn’t surprising how hell seemed to break loose as soon as Tom arrived. He gazed at Tom’s picture on the board. It had a huge question mark beside it. He sighed again as he gulped down the last drop of his beer. He knew he was obsessed with the case but his mind didn’t seem to want to think of anyone else. It was twelve midnight and he was still staring at the board hoping some light bulb will flash in his brain.
Agent Parker had gone home to his family. Special Agent Kimberly was also home. No one else seemed to be engulfed in the case like he was. Agent Weaver was amazed at how well his colleagues separated their family life from their work life. It was something he could never do, even if he tried.
He was frustrated. He decided he needed to go out for a drive. He grabbed his keys, stormed out of the safe house, jumped into his car and drove. He needed to cool down. He needed a breath of fresh air. He wanted a life. A normal life. A life without mafia drama. He tried not to think about the brewing war between the mob families. He tried not to think about how the Olivetti family will retaliate. He was dumbfounded.
He drove by several bars, looking for the right bar. None seemed to catch his attention. He remembered the last time he encountered Tom. He remembered every word Tom said to him at the interrogation room. For some reason, the only thing that caught him off guard was Kimberly’s love for him. Could it be? Did she love him? It made sense. Kimberly was his only “normal” in the past seven years.
While Agent Parker was engulfed in his love relationship, Kimberly and Agent Weaver seemed to be the only ones uninterested in pursuing a family. They were always on surveillance duty together, most of the time. He never thought she was interested in him.
He remembered how she always forced him to take breaks during surveillance sessions. She always brought him coffee. And once, she took a bullet for him during a shootout. Even though she was wearing a bullet proof vest, it was still heroic. Perhaps the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. How could he have been so stupid? The signs were there all these years.
At that moment, he knew he had to tell her how he felt. Anything could happen. He could be dead tomorrow or she could be dead in a shoot-out. All these years, she had tried to tell him, but he had been an ignorant fool. Someone that nice deserved better. He made a sharp U-turn and headed straight for her apartment.
She had a glass of wine and popcorn on her living room center table—her compensation for a week of hard work. She adjusted her glasses as she flipped through the channels. It was sad, really. She knew she would die alone, unless she did something about it. She shivered. She pulled a blanket over her chest as she snuggled deeper into the couch.
After passing her Special Agent qualification exams in Langley, Virginia, she had expected a complete turnaround in life. She thought she’d be married by now, but there was no time. The men she met weren’t too favorable about a woman with higher intelligence. All men seemed to be intimidated by her and some reciprocated those feelings by being assholes. The others didn’t work out after she looked into the criminal database. Ironic.
The only constant man in her life was Agent Weaver. She loved him, but she couldn’t get him to understand how she felt. Conflict of interest played a huge part in her decision not to tell him.
She didn’t want her love for him to cloud her judgement on special cases. Perhaps, it was better this way. Though, Tom had foolishly exposed her love for him. Was it that obvious? How the hell did Tom Olivetti know?
Something about Tom gave her the creeps. Kimberly heard a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock. 12:30am. “Who the hell is it?”
She dropped her wine glass on the table, stood up and tip toed to the nearest drawer. She brought out her gun and checked to see if there were bullets in it. She held the gun behind her back cautiously as she walked to the door. Why the hell will anyone be knocking on my door at this time of the night? It had never happened before. She was cautious. She looked through the peep hole and sighed in relief then scoffed.
She opened the door. “What the hell, Weaver! I would have shot your brains out. What are you doing here at this time? Everything okay?” She said as she placed her gun on the kitchen counter. She folded her arms, waiting for a legitimate response. She was tired of hearing his Olivetti rants and she hoped he wasn’t bringing his obsessive investigations to her, at an odd hour.
Weaver stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time in his life. Her curly red hair was flipped to the side and hung on her shoulders. He wasn’t used to seeing that side of her. She usually had her hair in a bun. He stared into her hazel eyes. They looked like a special sunflower species. Her skin was exposed. It was more than he’d ever seen or noticed. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that exposed most of her thighs. The nipple spike on her shirt showed she wasn’t wearing a bra. She noticed him staring. She instantly felt uncomfortable.
“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go put some clothes on,” she said as she walked towards her bedroom.
“Uh no! I don’t mind,” he said shyly. The apartment felt smaller and awkward. If she could disappear into thin hair, she’d use the opportunity instantly.
Her facial expression showed confusion. He didn’t need to use his training in body language to know. “Uh okay…” she said, wondering what was going on. She had never seen him behave that way before. He was always official and always talking about the Olivettis or other mob families.
“Are you okay?” she asked, still confused. He nodded. “Okay, you’re creeping me out, Weaver. Are you drunk? Did you find something new about the case? Why are you here at this time of night?” she blurted out completely oblivious to the fact that he wanted her.
“I – I,” he sighed nervously then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath then blurted out, “I – I like you Kim! I always did. I- I mean. I just noticed that I do but…but I don’t know. I like you. I know it took that Olivetti kid for me to figure it out, but I do like you and I don’t know if Tom was right about you liking me back…Okay! I feel awkward about saying this. You’re my colleague and we need to maintain a professional relationship. I get it…Uh I’ll be leaving now. Forget this ever happened.” He attempted to run out of the apartment before she had an opportunity to reply.
She was too stunned to say anything. Here was a man she had cared about for years. He was the tough and serious kind. He had never noticed her and suddenly, he is a romantic?
“Stop!” she said before he could leave. He turned back towards her. “What?” he said. “I…” she couldn’t complete the words. She sighed then briskly walked up to him and planted a kiss on his lips. He was half uncomfortable. Her lips were soft, sensual and firm. She stopped. They both stared at each other. She smiled. He smiled back. Something electric was going on and they couldn’t explain it. He grabbed her waist then slammed the door of the apartment shut. Her body was soft and better than he had imagined. She was engulfed in his masculinity.
All the sexual energy they had deprived themselves of, over the years, exploded into one big explosion of inglorious sex.
Somewhere across the American border—Mexico. Tom stood by a giant gate in the vast desert. The surroundings were dusty and the fences were high. He could see heavily armed men surrounding the premises. He clicked his key remote and his car beeped twice. His decision to fly to Mexico was controversial. His uncle, Sebastian, pleaded with him, but he refused to listen. It was the only way. Everyone who knew about his trip to Mexico swore an oath of secrecy. No one outside the room that day knew about Tom’s whereabouts, not even Nina.
“I’m going to California, but I’ll be back” – the last words he said to Nina. She wasn’t too happy but she knew she couldn’t stop him.
“Hands in the air!” three men yelled as the gate opened. He closed his eyes as he envisioned the next eight hours of his life.
Nimbau George Alsa— a member of Tom’s illuminati inner circle barged through the iron doors of his chambers. Other members were seated at the table. They brainstormed the ramifications of the actions Tom was about to take. It was risky. He could expose them all, but they couldn’t do much. Tom was Head Dragon of the circle, well, not yet. He was to be the Head pending the completion of his assignment. At the moment, Richard Bradford was the acting head. His job was to oversee all decisions made by members of the circle and at that moment, he felt his job was about to become a lot harder.
“Glad you’re here!” Richard Bradford said as Nimbau sat down.
“What do we do about Tom? He’s going into Cartel territory and from what I see, he’ll be using his powers,” Mary Konye said.
“We don’t know that! He has other options!” Krishna replied abruptly.
Doctor Patel shook his head. “He’s too strong and he is getting stronger every day. He shouldn’t be out in the open. He is too exposed,”
“Well, we have orders from high up! It seems they want him exposed. If they didn’t, they would have done something to stop him already,” Richard replied to them. No one said anything. They all stared into space as they weighed all the options they had.
Keiko Fujimori, the only Japanese man in the circle stood up. “I could help him. We can fight our way through the Cartels without using our powers,” he said.
They stared at each other. “I don’t think that is a good idea. If Tom needed help, he would have asked Julianna,” Richard replied. “Julianna is currently protecting Nina,”
“Well, what should we do? We can’t see far enough to know the consequences of the actions Tom is about to take,” Ying Ho said to defend Keiko.
Yuri sighed. “I wish Frederick was here. He could have seen through every possible action and consequence. The Order’s decision to transfer Frederick to another circle made no sense.”
“I can see your frustration, but the Order has never experienced a situation where two blood relatives have almost identical gifts. Experience has taught us nothing! So we’d rather let them be separated than watch chaos happen when they’re together,” Richard replied.
“What does chaos have to do with Frederick’s presence here?” Mary replied Richard.
“Well, we have reason to believe. When I mean ‘we’, I mean the research sect of the Order. Uhm we have reason to believe that when two relatives stay within close proximity to one another, they can share brain chemistry. Meaning, Tom’s 65% brain use plus Frederick’s 50% might lead to unlimited powers in both. We tested this once, one of them died because the power was too much to control. We, homo superiors, are only given what we can handle. That’s why we separate people. That’s why we put restrictions on who can contact who. If our genes are closely linked up, the ability for us to share powers will be possible and if we can’t control it, we will die…” Doctor Patel said.
“Yea we understand. Spare us the lecture,” Yuri interrupted.
“We are totally off point!” Nimbau said.
“How do we get Tom out of this trap he is walking into? If he uses his powers, the Alpha Sect will kill him,” he added.
They all looked at each other. Their circle was the only circle in the illuminati that had irregular members. Their members were notorious for getting killed and breaking laws. Some were transferred due to unmatched dispositions. Now, one of their members was about to get himself ki
lled by the Alpha Sect—the branch of the Illuminati that enforced the laws amongst its members.
“Maybe he doesn’t need our help. He is a smart kid. I’m sure he’ll figure a way out of his own mess. If not, it means he wasn’t meant to be one of us. If he can’t find a logical way to do it without getting us exposed, it means he is not THE ONE,” Richard Bradford said with a smile.
He allowed them to drag him on the dusty soil. Two Mexican men armed with machine guns, walked by his side, ready to shoot. Tom’s weak pretense was intended for a higher purpose. The only way he could end the mob war was by seeing all top Cartel bosses. The only way he could see top Cartel bosses was to pretend he was too weak to fight back and to pretend he was too hell bent on revenge to think about his actions clearly. After all, what stupid person walks into enemy territory unarmed and unprotected?
They finally stopped at an open metal door. The chickens walking around scrambled as the hot desert heat drained the liquid from his body. He was sweating. Not because of the heat, but because of his thoughts. It was hard to think things through when two hundred Mexican men stared at him with hateful thoughts. One of the men hit him on his back with a gun. It was painless, but he groaned.
They taunted him in Spanish—a language they thought he couldn’t understand. He understood clearly. Part of his illuminati initiation training was to understand every language known to mankind. It was a tough task, but he learnt the simple trick; thoughts aren’t in any language. All thoughts have the same patterns based on pheromone transmission, regardless of dialect and language.
They dragged him into a dark room then tossed him on the floor. The room was large and smelled like it had never been cleaned. Traces of dried blood filtered through his nose. It was a torture chamber. Chains hung on the walls. Torture tools like axes, pliers and knives were displayed on the walls. Tom carefully examined the entire premises—passed the room—passed the walls. There were twenty men on the rooftop with sniper rifles, ten armed men at the main gate, twenty-three armed men in each of the four meth lab buildings and thirty armed men and workers in each of the eight cocaine lab buildings.
Olivetti: Illumination Page 25
