Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (diy ebook reader TXT) 📕

food, sleep and an excess of adrenaline. Maybe also the knock on the head. I went to the bathroom to get cleaned up and wash my head. The blood had almost stopped flowing, but the pain was getting stronger. At the convenience store next to the gas station I bought a bar of chocolate and a cheese sandwich, along with a lemonade. I wolfed down half of the chocolate bar before I even sat back down in the Volvo and soon felt much better. Before I began to make my way back north, I pulled out my cell phone and my earpiece from under the driver’s seat and switched them back on.

The twelve missed calls on my lock screen renewed my apprehension that something had happened to Jonathan. I looked at the numbers. Ten of them were from the same device. I called the number and a masculine voice answered me nervously, “Hello?”

“You called me.” I answered him shortly.

“Guy Niava?”

He pronounced ‘Niava’ like my father’s Russian cousins did. I suddenly remembered my conversation with Ashley Holding in the hospital. “Do you remember any details about the person who picked you up?” I had asked her, and she’d answered, “He had a Russian accent and looked like an accountant. Not scary at all.”

“Speaking,” I answered.

He asked again, insistently, “Jonathan Niava’s uncle?” The Russian accent was very prominent. If this is the same Russian that Ashley had mentioned, then he was a product of the KGB and very dangerous.

“Yes,” I answered.

“I have him. You can have him back in exchange for Murat Lenika.”

Bingo, I thought and answered, “I don’t have Murat Lenika.” Before he hung up, I added, “But I have another suggestion for you…”

“Shoot,” He answered.

“How about your life plus a nice handsome amount of money for Jonathan Niava?”

Surprisingly, he answered, “Murat Lenika, my life, a handsome amount of money and one more thing.”

It was my turn to say, “Shoot.”

“The promise that my name is not mixed up in this terror affair. Before you answer me, remember that I can eliminate the kid and disappear.”

“What do you know about this affair?” I asked. At the same time, I took out my brother’s cell phone and texted Laura: I need an immediate location on the following number and added the Russian’s number.

“A lot more than I thought was happening here,” he answered. “You are in for a big disaster.”

“Let me talk to the kid.”

I heard him say, “Take the phone, talk to your uncle…” A moment later I heard Jonathan’s voice.

“Guy, he saved me. He shot the terrorist who was ordered to kill me and saved me… I don’t know him.”

Jonathan’s voice disappeared from the phone and the Russian was back online, “So? Do we have something to talk about?”

I answered him, “We sure do. I promise you won’t be involved in this shit.” I had no authority to promise anything of the sort, but it didn’t matter.

“The time is nine twenty. You have until noon to keep your promise.”

“Why noon?” I asked, apprehensively.

He laughed, “Because at noon all hell will break loose and shit you never considered will start to hit the fan.”

“I won’t manage to make it on time.” I glanced at my watch.

“Arrange immunity for me, at the Israeli embassy in New York. I can get there in half an hour.”

“You’ll go there with Jonathan Niava?”

“With him and with the information I have on me.” He was silent for a moment and then added, “Make sure that Murat Lenika is there, free and happy.”

“Wait by the phone.” I hung up and immediately called Gideoni. “Jonathan can be at the Israeli embassy in New York as soon as half an hour from now. Someone with a Russian accent, a man who seems to be holding Jonathan, will be bringing him. It is one of Murat Lenika’s men and he is demanding that Lenika be brought there, with guaranteed immunity. I am warning you ahead of time that it may be a trap, but there is a chance that it isn’t. Aside from Lenika, he is requesting political asylum, a sum of money and a promise his name won’t be dragged into this affair.”

“I can organize immunity in the embassy,” he answered immediately, “We will put him in the security room and before that, we will scan him to make sure he doesn’t have any explosives on him.”

“And another thing,” I said before hanging up, “He warned that all hell will break loose at noon exactly.”

I called back the man with the Russian accent. “They will wait for you at the Israeli embassy in New York.”

“What about Murat Lenika?”

“We are working on it with the Americans. I suggest you make yourself valuable and get to the embassy with Jonathan Niava and with detailed information.”

“Jonathan Niava is the source of the information. I suggest you make yourself valuable and get Murat Lenika for me.”

I hung up and called Laura’s number from my brother’s cell phone.

“You made it out of there in one piece,” she said when she answered the call.

“Did you read my text message? I need a location point immediately on that mobile number.”

“I read it.” The tone of joy became businesslike. “Who is it?”

“Someone who is near Jonathan now.” Six and half minutes had gone by and I was getting further away from the gas station.

“Could it be that he is in the Israeli embassy in New York?” she asked.

“He said he could be there in half an hour.”

“So, it seems as if he is already there or in a very close vicinity, if we take into account the slight error of a few feet here or there with the location point.

“He said half an hour,” I repeated the sentence stupidly. “He also said that all hell will break loose at exactly twelve noon.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened at the farmhouse?”

“Not really… I can tell you that there are a few bodies and that I have a computer from there that may be a source of information.”