American library books » Other » Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (diy ebook reader TXT) 📕

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by him?” I asked. An affirmative would turn him from mythological lover to an integral part of her life and maybe show where her loyalty was.

“No. I don’t have any children,” she answered immediately. “I have never considered myself a motherly type, but since I have taken upon myself to care for lost women and young girls, I find it very satisfying. This is the first time that reaching out to others has given life a meaning. That is as close as I have come to being a mother. I feel as if I am important in someone’s life.”

I stroked her neckline and massaged her ear. She groaned with pleasure. “Do I have to doubt your motives too?” This has been one of the most pleasurable ways of gathering intelligence.

“You doubt everyone’s intentions. I understand that you ask yourself what makes me leave my nice warm nest I have made for myself and go on a risky adventure in the jungle. But I am asking- --Why not?”

“I can find a lot of reasons why not,” I whispered and then asked, “What happened with El Desconocido?”

She hesitated before answering but in the end, she seemed to come to terms with the story and blurted shortly, “He ran away from me with a young American girl who came to celebrate her spring break, on the beaches of Cancun. Of all the beaches in the world, of all the bars on this strip, she had to come into mine, and made my man fall in love with her.”

“How did it happen?”

“Do you know what happens here over spring break?” I nodded but she continued as if she hadn’t seen, “Cancun is one of the favorite tourist destinations of the American students on their spring break. Imagine the following picture…” She raised her hand and drew a long line in the air, “Forty miles of white beaches full of free youngsters… Clubs and hotels are all inclusive… Beer and alcohol all pouring out without restraint and the drug dealers passing through the party-goers and selling everything you can just imagine. Making sure the partying doesn’t stop.”

“What does that have to do with the young girl and your boyfriend?”

“Because I am the only woman running a business here, my place became known as a refuge for women in distress.”

“Distress? You mean the lost girls you mentioned earlier?”

“Listen, when you load your body with alcohol and then add ecstasy, it causes anxiety attacks or loss of consciousness up till heart failure. Sometimes the distress of some girls is much more complicated than that. Because under the influence of drugs they are raped. A lot of them come to me in that situation. They are totally high from the drugs and are bleeding.”

“How did your name get around, those who you helped?”

“Because of the girls who work for me. I don’t allow the customers to touch the girls. They aren’t goods and their bodies aren’t part of the show. As far as I am concerned, they are professional dancers like any other dancers. You wouldn’t in your right mind think of touching a ballet dancer and so you won’t do it to a pole dancer in my club. They spend hours of practice. Return with tight muscles, with inflammation in the joints and tendons, with black and blue bruises. Everything that happens to professional dancers.”

I laid on my side. I wanted to test her when I asked, “Is she still with him?

“I don’t know.” She smiled, “I hope she got a hold of herself and went back home, for her sake. Actually, for all our sakes. I hope she is gone from his life and broke his heart.”

I watched her face. I listened to her voice and thought that she was a dangerous woman and that she doesn’t plan for El Desconocido to live to a ripe old age. “I have to get information from him. So, if you are planning on killing him, do it after I have all the information I need.”

I passed my hand over her right breast, down her stomach and between her legs. She moaned with pleasure and immediately responded. It may have been a mistake to get into bed with her, but it was a pleasurable mistake. Dangers have never deterred me.

At two forty-five in the morning I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and found Laura dressed and ready to go. “I wanted to make sure you were awake,” she said. Her eyes wandered behind me. Zorro was just finishing getting dressed and Laura added, “But I see it was already taken care of.”

“Now that everyone is awake, we can be on our way.” Zorro smiled at her like a cat next to a bowl of cream.

Laura’s response was to slam the door shut.

Murat Lenika,

An apartment somewhere in New York City,

November 12, 2015, 11:00 p.m.

I’d been too busy all day to take notice of the kid. Maybe I was also still a bit high from the drugs we’d taken after the conversation with El Desconocido. I awoke at noon, sent the guys to pick up a new disposable cell phone, then used it to phone my contacts on their own disposable phones. That was how I kept up with all that was going on around me without having my every word recorded. I hated that the American government had that ability, but I couldn’t ignore it either. Life had taught me to not shrink away from my challenges. I reminded myself that the delay in investigating him was a good thing, because it was tenderizing him into a well-done piece of meat. Soon I would be able to peel it off the bone, licking my fingers all the while.

After making a few phone calls, I was updated about the rifles. The doctor’s container had arrived and had been dismantled. The rifles had been placed in a marked crate and my workers had been instructed to put it aside on a specific forklift, which then

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