Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (diy ebook reader TXT) 📕
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- Author: Dana Arama
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“I hope you’re going surfing in Puerto Escondido in Oaxaca,” I heard the clink of his ever-present whiskey glass as he set it down on the desk. “And don’t get up to mischief with whoever you’re not supposed to.”
“I think the part of getting up to mischief is more likely...unless you tell me you have found the kid, found the terrorist cell and everyone got what’s coming to them.”
“God willing, the FBI, the CIA and the blue police willing, that will happen as well.”
“And we are still remaining behind the scenes.”
“Of course. When we are not mentioned, it is a reason to rejoice.”
Laura appeared from around the corner with a sandwich and a smile on her face. I showed her the empty carton, indicating that I had already eaten and said to my boss, “I’m on my way. We are trying to enter through the back door.”
“Be careful. Remember that every person can be bought and there is a lot of money to buy a lot of people.”
“We’ll be in touch soon,” I said.
“Don’t trust anyone.”
I thought that was strange advice, since I was hanging around with someone that he had sent to me but didn’t say anything. He was right. Neither of the two were from my team. They were not my sisters-in-arms but incidental passers-by towards the same assignment, with their own agenda.
A second before he cut off the call, I heard him say, “If it were my boy in that situation, I would be comforted knowing you were involved.”
I glanced at my watch. Time was running out and we still had another stop before we got onto a flight to Cancun. We got into the elevator and when the doors closed Laura said joyfully, “I got us a plane, a pilot and an open ticket for this mission.” She looked at her watch. “I estimate that with my other stop we need to make, it will take three hours and we will have reached Zorro. I put out a search and they found three bars where the name ‘sword’ appears, but only one exclusive strip club by the name of ‘Foil.’ I’m betting on that one.”
“Listen, I hope your bet is supported by more than a clue from that waitress at the club, because we are talking about forty miles of clubs and hotels.” I tapped my watch with my finger, and said, “And our time is running out”
“It is well supported besides the name. Actually, the information shows that the club was established after Zorro got out of prison. Also, the timetable and the location, both line up.” She smiled and twirled the keyring around her finger, “And also the ownership documents --”
“Under the name of Alex Romanekova?”
She shook her head three times, with certainty, “By the name Vladimir Volonitz.”
I stopped, “And why does that make us happy?”
“Because Vladimir Volonitz is the name of her legendary coach.”
I smiled. “Close enough.”
“Close enough and an hour and a quarter’s flight… One more stop and we are on track.”
Laura Ashton,
Miami, November 12, 2015, 1:35 a.m.
The apartment where I lived in Washington I called ‘The apartment’. The apartment in Miami I called ‘My home’. Probably because it had a past. I had memories of family dinners, birthday parties, a short but meaningful love. I had not let anyone into this home, unless they were part of my past. And still, I asked Guy to come up. It didn’t seem right to let him wait in the car. I didn’t mean for anything to happen between us, and I also hadn’t planned on feeling attracted to him, even though he was very attractive.
We waited in the lobby for the elevator and three heavy, elderly women joined us. When the elevator finally arrived, it was the smaller of the three and it was crowded. The elevator filled up with the exciting topic of the game of bridge by people I couldn’t stand. Having no choice, I had to stand close to Guy. I felt his solid chest with my shoulder. He laid his arm on the wall of the elevator and that way allowed me more space. Suddenly I became aware of all our contact points with his body. With his muscular arm, his tough thigh.
Over the last few months, since Gail had disappeared from my life, I focused only on finding her. She was the only person important in my life and I was important to her. I spent all my free time looking for her, until I severed all contacts with friends and only kept friends whom I thought could help me. I disconnected myself from old lovers and only reconnected ties if I thought they could further me in my investigation when needed. I forgot what it was like to make love and only used sex as a tool to get information out of my partner. And even sex faded away over time. The presence of Guy in such close proximity, and especially now, only reminded me of my self-imposed abstinence.
We were partners on this journey, but only part of it was aboveboard. Without him knowing, we started on this journey, each with a different motive, and, not by chance, crossed paths. Not by chance, because as soon as I had seen that Murat Lenika was involved, as soon as I had come across his connections with the Sinaloa cartel in my prior investigation to find her, I knew I had to lead this investigation. So, I persuaded my skeptical boss of my ability to lead a large scale investigation such as this one.
I didn’t know why, when we stood by my door, my hand shook so much that the key slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. Both of us bent down to retrieve the key and the coincidental touch felt like a grenade had exploded in a closed room. Was the
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