Macy recognized that she had to deal with Bastone first. She knew him to be unrelenting, and if she didn’t get to him first, she would not be long for this world. Apparently, the Benefactor gave her the information so she could get rid of Bastone; however, it could be a set up if the Benefactor and Bastone were working together. She would have to use her skill and training as an FBI agent to avoid falling into a trap.
When Macy and Bastone surrendered Lopez and the girl to Sergey, she knew that it was done to initiate a war between the Russian mafia and the two Mexican drug cartels. If she could stage the killing of Bastone to make it look like revenge from the cartels for fingering them with Sergey, she would be in the clear from both La Cosa Nostra and the Russian Mafia. If she staged it perfectly, this would draw the Italian Mafia into the war between the Russian mafia and the cartels. If these major criminal organizations were fighting, the American public would save millions in taxpayer dollars to arrest and provide trials for members who would be killed in the war. It accorded her a feeling of satisfaction to know that maybe she could do some good after all.
She had stowed her Walther P-22 pistol with silencer in the trunk of her rental car. She retrieved the pistol and a sharp steak knife from the trunk. The time was 5:00 p.m. She had to stake out the restaurant at least ninety minutes ahead of time to make sure she wasn’t being set up. On the way to the Black and Tan she went through McDonald’s drive-through and ordered a Big Mac, fries, and a Diet Coke. She hadn’t eaten all day. When she arrived at the Black and Tan, she parked in the corner of the lot where the visibility was optimal and ate her feast while she observed the parking lot. After about an hour into the stakeout, a light rain began, which hampered her vision. She had to roll down her window, and soon her hair and face were wet with rain.
At 6:45 p.m., a black sedan pulled into the parking lot. The door opened and Bastone got out, holding an umbrella. Macy put on her gloves, started her car, put it in gear, and drove to the area where Bastone was walking. She pulled in front of him with her driver’s side facing him. He looked startled by the sudden appearance of the car.
She rolled down the window further, pointed the Walther at him and said, “Get in the car now, you bastard, or I shoot you where you stand.”
Bastone, seeing the pistol with the silencer, calmly walked to the passenger seat and got in. He showed no emotion or fear. “Good to see you Macy, why are you pointing the gun at me?”
“The Russians weren’t man enough to kill me, Bastone, and you weren’t man enough to attempt to do the job yourself. Now you must pay the price.”
Bastone just nodded and said, “We are both professionals. We can work this out.”
“I think we probably can, Bastone,” Macy replied. “Before we negotiate the deal, we need to move to your car.”
He just nodded, understanding that Macy held all the cards in this game.
She got out first and walked to the passenger side, keeping the pistol on him. He got out, and they walked to his car and entered. He sat on the driver’s side while Macy was on the passenger side. Both were damp from the drizzling rain.
“What’s your offer?” Macy asked calmly.
“Let’s go back to my hotel room, and I’ll give you all the money that Sergey paid me.”
“Sounds like a starting point,” Macy said. “First, tell me why you wanted me dead.”
Bastone stared into her gorgeous brown eyes. He recognized that he had to tell her the truth, or he was dead. “The Benefactor ordered it,” he said. For the first time his voice was shaky.
“And you do everything he asks?” she inquired.
“He’s a powerful man,” were Bastone’s last words.
Macy shot him in the heart. As he slumped forward, she put the gun to his neck and shot again. Blood spattered on the grey leather seats and the Italian drew his last gurgling breath. Macy knew how the drug cartels left their calling cards when they killed an informant. She took the knife out of her pocket and pulled the dead man’s head back. When it was resting on the seat, she reached into his mouth and pulled out his tongue. With her right hand, she carved off half the tongue and jammed it in the man’s right ear. This was the traditional way that Mexicans slaughtered and mutilated an informant. She wanted the word to get out that Bastone was murdered for telling Sergey that the cartels had killed his daughter. Of course, La Cosa Nostra wouldn’t stand still for this. They always took revenge when one of their own was killed.
Macy exited the car and calmly walked back to her vehicle. She opened the trunk and placed the gun, knife, and her bloody gloves in a plastic bag and placed the bag under her spare tire.
She knew this act would cement her relationship with the Benefactor. She decided to go back to her hotel room, get a good night’s sleep, and call the Benefactor in the morning. She felt as if the man had never dealt with anyone like her. She could control any man with her wits and her sensual body. The Benefactor didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter 69
After departing the airport, Rex and I decided to have a quick dinner and then start calling hotels. The Radisson Hotel was directly across the street from the airport, so we stopped there first. It was a cool summer night in Green Bay with a slow, misty rain falling from the overcast sky. The weather reflected my state of mind, but I was determined to function in an objective manner.
When checking with the desk clerk at the hotel, we found that there was no record of Bastone checking in, but we were told that Bo Lopez and Cherokee Alverez had stayed there for one night on the day before Veronika Ivanova was killed.
We proceeded to the Pine Tree Grill in the hotel and had a very good dinner of grilled shrimp.
I remembered the night when Leah and I first arrived in Green Bay and we had dinner in this same restaurant. We laughed about the appetizer of fried cheese curds, which we enjoyed. If only a human could turn back time and change one thing. If I had not decided to go to Lookout Mountain, none of this would be happening. Sometimes the smallest decisions change the course of a life forever.
As we were leaving the restaurant, Rex’s cell phone rang.
“This is Rex Herns.” He was silent for a moment, listening. “Where did it happen?” Another silence. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t disturb the body.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“They found Bastone’s body, dead in his car. It looks like a Mexican cartel hit. It happened at the Black and Tan restaurant parking lot.”
We rushed to the car and raced to the restaurant. There were five police cars there, an ambulance, and many onlookers. Rex showed his badge, and we walked to the car that was the center of all the activity.
“Who’s in command here?” Rex asked.
A short thin grey-haired man with slightly stooped shoulders walked over to us. “I’m Detective George Dillon. Are you Chief Herns?” he asked in a gruff voice.
Rex nodded and showed him his badge. “Can you brief us on the situation, Detective?”
“Well he’d been dead between one and two hours when a customer came out of the restaurant. His car was parked behind the dead man’s car. As he walked by, he noticed the man slumped over in the seat and thought he saw blood. After banging on the window and getting no response, he called 911 on his cell phone. A patrol car responded and called us. It was apparent that the man had been executed. The Green Bay police chief told us not to disturb the body until he called you. Can you check what you want to quickly so we can get the forensics team working? The coroner is here and he estimated the time of death between one and two hours before we arrived. We did remove the wallet and determined that the dead man is Marino Bastone from Chicago.”
“Thanks Detective,” Rex replied. “This is Ben Harris. He’s assisting me on a case involving Bastone. Do you have some plastic gloves so Ben and I can examine the car and the body?”
The detective went to his car and retrieved two pairs of surgical gloves. Rex and I put them on and walked to the dead man’s
car. Bastone’s body was slumped behind the wheel and had been shot twice at close range. His tongue had been sliced off and stuffed in his ear. Rex and I both knew that this was the way the Mexican cartels killed an informant. We had seen it many times in the course of working on the drug scene.
My primary concern was that Bastone was my link to finding out where Leah was and now that source of information lay dead with his tongue in his ear. I couldn’t seem to win for losing.
After speaking briefly to Detective Dillon and recounting to him our conjectures, we left the scene and Rex phoned his people who were searching for Bastone and called off the hunt. We decided to go back to the hotel, call the airlines to move our flight to earlier in the morning, and then get some sleep. When we arrived at the hotel, Rex dropped me off at my suite and went to the front desk to get a room for himself. He said that he would handle the flight change to Chicago and call me.
I entered my suite, went straight to the cabinet, and took out the bottle of Jack Daniels. I filled a glass with ice and poured in the amber liquid. After a long pull, I sat down in the living area to wait for Rex’s call. After about forty-five minutes, the phone rang. Rex had booked our flight to Chicago for 9:47 a.m. He said he would pick me up at eight. Since I had not unpacked from the canceled flight, I decided to just go to bed and try to get some sleep. I hoped my dreams would be kind to me. I finished my drink and went to bed. Sleep came easily.
The cold piercing wind penetrated my skin and made its deathly presence known on the barren street where I walked, looking for Leah. Leaves swirled in complete silence inside the vast vacuum that engulfed my spirit. Desolation and darkness consumed all objects in their path.
A shrill voice cracked the death-laden silence like a gunshot, “I’ve got her and you will never get her back!”
I stood on the street alone, my face cracked with stress, my mind blown by pressures. I screamed for help to find Leah. My cry for help shook the foundations of life. My words were clear, pure, earth-shattering.
People listened.
No one heard.
I awoke abruptly, once again in a cold sweat and glanced at the clock on the end table. It was six o’clock. I swung out of bed and went to the shower. I lingered and let the cold water splash on my face and body. After shaving and getting dressed, I went to the breakfast buffet and had two cups of black coffee and a couple of pieces of toast. The newspaper’s headlines were about the apparent murder of Bastone. Green Bay was not accustomed to the wave of violence of recent weeks. I finished my breakfast and went back to the room to wait for Rex. He appeared perfectly on time, and we proceeded to the airport.
The cool misty rain continued falling in Green Bay. In a very few weeks, the first snow would fall and the hard winter would rest on this frozen land. Ice fishing, snow sledding, and skiing would be the recreations of choice. Of course, the beloved Packers were the primary entertainment. Winter would last until May, and the residents didn’t seem to mind at all. This was very different from the South Texas climate, which I loved. There were only two seasons in Houston, a short spring and a long summer. If Leah and I ever got through this nightmare, I intended on convincing her to move to Houston and enjoy life there.
Our flight left on time without incident, and we arrived promptly at O’Hare airport. It was a clear beautiful day in Chicago with the temperature in the upper seventies. Rex and I went to Avis to rent me a car and I chose a Ford SUV. His car was in long-term parking and he was anxious to get home to his wife and kids. We agreed to talk later in the day.
I told him that I was going to rent a place in the Presidential Towers in downtown Chicago. I had stayed there when I was on special assignment with the police department. I left the airport in my black SUV and drove straight to the Presidential Towers.
“How are you, Mr. Harris?” the attractive blonde desk clerk greeted me. Her name was Chelsey and she remembered me from my lengthy stay a few months ago. She had flirted openly with me. The one time Leah was with me when I went to the desk was a mistake. Leah recognized the voluptuous girl’s advances, and with a laugh told me that, if I ever spoke to her again, I might awake some morning missing my most important manly attribute. We laughed about that for days.
It seemed like a million years had passed since that time. I asked Chelsey if apartment 702 was available. That’s the apartment I stayed in before. I was happy to find out that it was free. I booked it indefinitely.
I walked to the elevator, got in, and pushed seven. There was an Asian guy standing at the back of the elevator. He was very well dressed in a custom black cashmere and wool suit. When our eyes met, he looked down. He was carrying an odd- looking brown bag. It had a silky look to it, and I could swear there was a soft scent of lemon and vanilla coming from the bag. He got off on the fifth floor, looked back at me, and briskly walked away. This incident gave me a very strange feeling, but I dismissed it. I got off on seven and proceeded to apartment 702.
I put my bag in the main bedroom and unpacked the meager belongings that I had brought with me. The building housed a small grocery store, a couple of restaurants, a hair salon, and a very nice fitness center on the roof. I decided to go pick up a few groceries for my stay and get a bottle of Jack Daniels. I returned to the elevator. When the door opened, there was an older couple on the elevator. The man had a walking cane and smiled at me when I got on. The woman was clinging to his arm and looking at him with warm affection. I just nodded and pushed the lobby button. The elevator stopped on floor five, and I saw the Asian guy standing there. He looked at me and then abruptly turned and walked away. He was still carrying that strange bag.
I arrived at the lobby without further incident, and purchased two bags of groceries, making sure I had the fixings for cheese garlic grits, which was one of my favorites. I also purchased a large bottle of Jack.
I made my way back to the apartment, put the groceries away, and prepared a turkey, mayo, and onion sandwich. I sat eating it while looking out the window and pondering what to do next. The ringing of my cell phone broke the silence.
“Hello, this is Ben.”
“Well Ben, I see that you and your cop friend made it to Chicago,” was the response from the familiar female voice who had told me about Bastone and Leah.
“Who is this?” I asked urgently.
“Never mind that,” she said. “The girl is here in Chicago. Sergey Ivanova has her and he plans to send her to Houston soon, so you better hurry.”
I heard the click as she hung up. I immediately pushed in Rex’s cell number; there was no time to waste. The cell rang eight times, and then the recorded message came on. “This is Rex Herns. Leave your name and number, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
“Rex, this is Ben, I just received another call from the woman who told us about Bastone. She said Leah is here in Chicago with Sergey Inanova. We don’t have much time. She said he was sending her to Houston immediately. This is urgent. Call me back.”
Chapter 70
Mutilating and killing Lopez turned Sergey on. Normally when he killed, he would call his Charleston mistress and have rough sex with her, but why bother when he had a sexy woman tied to a chair in the other room. He could use a strange piece now to release the tensions in his body. He poured two glasses of Diva vodka and walked to the kitchen where Leah was tied to the chair. He pulled her chair to the table and cut the tape from her hands, but did not cut the binds on her feet. He walked to the kitchen sink, wet a cloth with cold water, came back and put it on her forehead. Her hand immediately came up and grabbed the cloth from his hands. She held it to her head a moment, and then wiped her face.
“What do you want with me?” Leah mumbled.
“Nothing baby.” Sergey handed her the glass of vodka.
Leah accepted it and took a long drink. She took a deep breath and coughed. She thought the clear liquid was water, but the burning sensation going down her throat helped calm her nerves. She took another long drink. The shock of seeing Ben
shot was still vivid. He was dead. She had no reason to live. Leah looked over at the tall Russian without any idea of what was happening. He was a handsome man, but there was pure evil showing in his eyes. “I don’t know what you want,” she said again.
“Honey I just want you to be nice to me, and I’ll let you go.”
“What do you mean, nice?” Leah asked.
“I need a piece of ass!” Sergey chuckled as he reached forward and ripped off the front of her shirt.
Leah instantly threw the rest of the vodka in his face. She tried to get up, but the tape on her feet caused her to fall to the floor.
Sergey picked her up and threw her over his shoulders. She beat his back with her fist as he carried her to the bedroom. He threw her on the bed and slapped her hard across the face. Blood dripped from her lips as she tried to scream. Sergey put his huge hand around her mouth and said. “Scream again and I’ll break your arm.”
Leah shrieked again and Sergey twisted her arm. He really didn’t want to break it because the Arabs would not pay as much for damaged merchandise. Anyway, his apartment was sound proofed and no one could hear her screams.
Leah attempted to bite his hand, but Sergey yanked it away and slapped her again. He put both her hands together and held them down over her head, with his other hand, he ripped off her panties. She was writhing savagely and trying to kick him but the weight of his body and his extraordinary strength held her down. He wedged her legs apart and entered her.
Leah broke into sobs. “Ben will kill you for this!” she shrieked, “He will kill you, bastard.” Then she remembered that Ben was dead. She collapsed and lay still.
Sergey loved the struggle; it made him more aroused that she was fighting him so hard. When she stopped fighting and lay still, he violently shoved it deeper and deeper until he orgasmed. “That was the best piece I’ve had in a long time,” he said, but Leah just lay still with her eyes closed and her face wet with tears. Sergey grinned, took the duct tape from the end table, and taped her hands and feet again and left her lying on the bed.
The Spirit Survives Page 23