The NAFTA Blueprint
Page 34
Sadistically I watched Pencho Slaveykov on a monitor get murdered in my apartment. When Igor said those words to me I didn’t believe it. When you hear those words it never feels tangible unless you see the deceased body. The words trembled through my major internal organs making its way out through my veins towards my extremities. I couldn’t breathe. I took a few deep breaths and looked around, first at Helena then at Igor.
I bit down on my lower lip like a clamp. Perhaps they both expected me to shed tears, the human condition responds unique and specific to different stimuli, thus they were waiting for my reactions. Helena tried to reach over to console me. I pushed her away, I didn’t need empathy at that particular moment―I needed silence. She’s the one that had tears in her eyes, I almost felt like lashing out to reprimand her and say, “You didn’t even know Pencho, what the hell are you crying about!” but I know her response was triggered by the situation we were in and maybe even because she saw me in turmoil. Her tears had nothing to do with Pencho―never believe a woman’s tears.
It was fucken strenuous to watch his death on the monitor, in my apartment, the body still rested on the hardwood floor. I had just seen Pencho a few days ago, in that apartment. I was responsible for his death. Flashbacks of the conversations we had in my apartment ran wild―the images of his constitution were lucid. I had killed Pencho, I was to blame. Had he not been in my apartment at that particular moment, house sitting to prevent another burglary, he would be living his lavish life in L.A. without a care in the world. But now he was dead. Watching Pencho scurry around the apartment floors helpless, hiding in the bedroom, making one last attempt to scar the perpetrators before they finally executed him…that was his final testimony.
“What’s the next move? What are you going to do next that requires physical violence?” I asked with a linear facial expression.
“Michael, this part doesn’t concern you. I know you feel responsible for your friend’s death, but there was nothing you could do about that. You couldn’t prevent this from happening, none of us could. You’re not to blame here. This game is being played by dangerous players with careers, families, political offices, and businesses to lose. They’re relentless. They could care less about you or me, or Pencho, or anyone else who steps in their way. That’s what happened to Jay Jacobs, and my relatives, and now to your dear friend Pencho. I’m sorry Michael. I truly wish I could’ve prevented this from happening. But, whatever I have planned next is my own responsibility, you don’t get your hands dirty remember?” said Igor.
“Don’t patronize me. You don’t know what I’m feeling. If I want to get involved on a physical level…that’s my choice. We have those murderers on camera and one of those murderers is walking around with a knife wound on his upper arm. Maybe he has a bandage wrapped around it right now―it shouldn’t be too hard to find him. We surveillance the Governor’s staff until we spot his face. Anyone can see them clearly on those damn monitors! Anyone of us can point him out.”
“It’s not that easy. They’re protected at high clearance levels we won’t have access to. Look, you have tons of documents, recordings, video footage―this is a first-hand exclusive. Everything you have since you met with Jay Jacobs until what you’re seeing now on the monitor. This story is going to blow wide open, you need to do your job. Once you start publishing the story and getting readers to follow, everything will be out in the open. Exposure of the monopoly and these deaths is colossal for us. You guys need to hide out for a bit, two days…tops, then develop and print it at once. Just one thing though―leave my name and Errazuriz out. If they suspect we know they were to blame for the deaths of the Danguillecourt family, they’ll make it impossible to get to them.”
“And what are you gonna do?” asked Helena.
“I need to do three last things. First, I’m going to Kansas City to rupture the real estate around the Kansas City rail center with explosives―turn it into a dump site. Then, I’m going to burn down the Governor’s mansion in downtown Austin, hopefully with his family in it. Third, I’m going to assassinate the Governor in broad daylight. I don’t think any of you want anything to do with any of this. Just write the story, stay here in this apartment protected from the outside world, and call an ambulance to advise them about Pencho’s body. I’ll be back tomorrow.”