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The Scorpion's Tale

Page 27

by Wayne Block


  Charlie looked away.

  “She’ll be at peace with your decision, Charlie. She’ll understand. There is no upside to continuing this journey. You can’t help Steven. If you try, you’ll only ensure your own death.”

  Charlie slouched back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He looked totally exasperated. “I’m tired, Joaquin, and way too old for this bullshit!”

  “Then you agree to return to Chicago?”

  “No. I made a promise to Francesca and a promise to myself.”

  Joaquin smiled fondly. “That’s why I so admire and respect you, Charlie. I knew you would do the right thing. But I had to warn you, my friend.” Joaquin patted Charlie on the shoulder with a special ring he hadn’t used in years. The hidden needle pierced through Charlie’s shirt. Charlie suddenly grabbed his chest and collapsed. An attendant passing by with a walkie-talkie quickly summoned aide and within minutes paramedics were attending to Charlie. Joaquin assured the paramedics that he would be at the hospital within the hour, as Charlie was wheeled past him.

  Joaquin smiled sadly at Charlie. “Don’t worry, Charlie. Now you’re going to be fine.”

  -------------------

  Giovanna and Nick remained at the gate after learning their flight was delayed for thirty minutes. Nick could not remember a time when Louie and Pete were not there to watch his back. He was on his own and his nerves were frayed. Nick took out his cell phone and called his uncle.

  “Nick, where are you?” Alberto asked.

  “There’s been a slight change of plans, Uncle. Gia and I are going to Quito.”

  “Quito?” Alberto shouted. “I thought you were coming home.”

  “No, but I’ve sent Pete, Louie, and Braulio home.”

  “They’re not with you? Are you crazy?”

  Nick carefully chose his words, sensing his uncle was about to explode. “Uncle, I’ve been informed that the Scorpion has accepted a contract on me and Giovanna.”

  “A contract on you? That’s absurd! Who would have the audacity to put a contract on your life? Where are you getting this bullshit from?” Alberto screeched at the top of his lungs.

  “Steven Capresi informed me about the contract.”

  Alberto seemed genuinely surprised to hear about Steven. “What could Capresi possibly know about a contract with the Scorpion? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?”

  “I’m not taking any chances. I sent Louie and Pete to kill the Brazilians, but they had already been taken out. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

  Alberto remained silent as he digested the new information. “Why are you going to Quito?”

  “To meet Steven. He thinks together we can kill the Scorpion.”

  “You’re both insane! I forbid you to go!”

  “I have to hang up now,” Nick said, cutting off his uncle. “I love you.” Nick had never before been so blatantly disrespectful to Alberto, but there was nothing further to discuss.

  “Stay right here,” he told Giovanna. “I’m going to the men’s room.”

  As soon as Nick disappeared, a female airline attendant approached Giovanna.

  “Excuse me, but are you Ms. Fratore?”

  “That’s correct,” Giovanna answered, momentarily forgetting her new identity.

  “I have an urgent call for Mr. Jimmy Peters from Pete. He told me that you were traveling with Mr. Peters. I’m extremely sorry to bother you, but he said it couldn’t wait.”

  She looked down the concourse to see if she could spot Nick. “I’m afraid Mr. Peters is in the men’s room.”

  “Since it’s urgent, would you mind taking the call? I can take you into our office for privacy.”

  Giovanna looked down the concourse for Nick again. “I guess I can take the call for him.”

  The attendant smiled at her. “Follow me, please.”

  Giovanna followed the attendant across the concourse into a small office marked ‘employees only.’ As Giovanna walked into the office, she was immediately grabbed from behind, and a cloth saturated with chloroform was pressed over her face, rendering her unconscious. She was lifted into a wheelchair, wrapped in blankets with her face hidden by a scarf, and taken into a service elevator.

  Moments later, Nick returned to find Giovanna gone. He thought she must have gone to the ladies’ room so he sat down and waited. He decided to call Steven, who picked up on the first ring.

  “Nick, where are you?”

  “We’re booked to Quito.”

  “Who is ‘we’?”

  “Giovanna and I.”

  “Are you airborne yet?”

  “No, but we’re at the gate and taking off shortly. We should be there in a few hours. Where should we meet you?”

  “You need to go to a hotel called Casa Habana. I’ve made all the arrangements. Call me when you get there.”

  “Where are you?” Nick demanded, agitated by Steven’s elusiveness.

  “We’ll talk later.”

  Steven hung up, infuriating Nick. It was clear that he was going to have to play by Steven’s rules a little longer, until they were face to face.

  Nick scanned the waiting area with no sign of Giovanna. He called her cell phone several times, only getting her voicemail. When the boarding announcement was made, Nick knew something was wrong. He got up and walked up and down the concourse looking for her. His cell phone rang and the caller identification showed it was Giovanna.

  Nick exploded into the phone. “Where the hell are you? We’re boarding!”

  Nick heard an unfamiliar female voice on the other end. He froze.

  “There’s been a change of plans, Mr. Manzione. Listen carefully and follow my instructions. The New York flight that your men are traveling on has already departed, so you don’t need to waste your time trying to reach them. We’ve been watching everyone in your little group. If you deviate from my orders or try to use your cell phone, she dies. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Nick said, biting his lip.

  “Good. Get to the front of the terminal and I’ll call you again. You have five minutes. If you’re late, kiss her goodbye.”

  -------------------

  Nick’s phone rang as he reached his destination.

  “Mr. Manzione, there is a yellow taxi bearing number 8987, a few hundred feet to your right. Enter it.”

  Nick opened the door and got in. The driver, without acknowledging him, drove into the cargo area behind the terminal, and eventually into a hidden tarmac where several private jets were parked. The driver pointed toward a Falcon 50 jet, where an attractive woman in uniform stood at the bottom of the staircase. Nick collected his bags and walked over.

  “Are you the sweet young thing who has been delivering my instructions?” he asked sarcastically.

  “I am, Mr. Manzione. Are you ready for your flight?”

  “Where is Giovanna?”

  The woman smiled politely and pointed up the jet’s staircase. “She’s already comfortably seated.”

  Nick realized he had no bargaining power. “After you, then,” he said, extending his hand toward the staircase. She entered the cabin and ducked into the first row, allowing Nick an unobstructed view of Giovanna. Her mouth was taped, but she still tried to communicate with her eyes wide in fear. As Nick turned in the direction Giovanna was looking, a hard object crashed down on his head, rendering him unconscious.

  A huge man lifted Nick’s body into a seat and handcuffed his wrists. He then ripped the strip of tape off Giovanna’s mouth, causing her to wince in pain. He grinned and pointed toward the front rows. “Feel free to move about the cabin. Perhaps you’d like the empty seat next to Mr. Manzione?”

  -------------------

  When Detective Johnston reached the gate, he looked for Charlie, but could not find him. The detective moved out of the path of the deplaning passengers and called Charlie on his cell phone. An elderly man came forward and raised his hand toward the detective. Johnston looked at the man suspiciously.

&
nbsp; “Are you Detective Michael Johnston?” he asked.

  “Yes. Who wants to know?”

  “I am Joaquin Ordonez. I am here to meet you.”

  Detective Johnston shook Joaquin’s hand as he surveyed the waiting area. “Where’s Charlie?”

  “Charlie had a medical emergency. I think it was his heart. The paramedics were here forty minutes earlier and transported him to the hospital. I thought you’d want to speak with them so I took their business cards.” Joaquin handed a card to the detective.

  “Thanks,” the detective answered.

  Johnston dialed the paramedic. “Officer Castro, this is Detective Michael Johnston of the Suffolk County Police Department in the State of New York. I’m at Miami International Airport with Joaquin Ordonez, and I’m calling to inquire about the condition of Charlie Ponte.”

  “Excuse me detective, but can you tell me your interest is in this gentleman?”

  “I just arrived in Miami on a flight from New York, and I’m working on an active case with Mr. Ponte and Mr. Ordonez. I wanted to check on him.”

  “Okay, detective. Nothing personal, I’m just covering my ass.”

  “I know,” Detective Johnston replied, “I do it all the time.”

  “Mr. Ponte is doing fine. It wasn’t a heart attack, but they’re going to run some tests. His blood pressure spiked and his pulse was abnormal. It may be stress-related or an allergic reaction, but they probably won’t know until tomorrow. He’ll be kept overnight for observation.”

  “Thanks.”

  Johnston closed his phone and closely regarded his new traveling companion. “It looks like Charlie will be fine. So what are we doing, Joaquin? Are we flying to Quito tonight or tomorrow morning?”

  “Neither,” Joaquin answered. “We’re not going to Quito at all.”

  “Why not?” Johnston asked.

  “Because Steven’s changed his plans and he’s going somewhere else.”

  “Are you going to tell me where we are going?” Johnston asked, unable to disguise his impatience.

  “I don’t know. All I know is that we have a flight tomorrow morning on a private plane. The change in Steven’s itinerary was waiting for me at the gate when I arrived.” Joaquin showed him a fax with instructions.

  “Am I supposed to believe the Scorpion sent you this fax?”

  “Yes, that’s the way he communicates.”

  “He’s expecting three of us.”

  “And only two of us will be on that plane.”

  “What does this mean for us?” Detective Johnston asked.

  “Only the Scorpion knows.”

  -------------------

  Nick awoke as the jet made its final descent. His head was throbbing. Giovanna was asleep next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. He tried to move his head and a sharp pain flared throughout his skull. He attempted to grab at the pain and realized his hands were in handcuffs.

  The plane made a hard landing on a runway bordered by a tropical forest. Nick peered out the window and surveyed the runway; an old, poorly maintained asphalt strip with missing chucks of pavement. There was no sign of civilization. The jet came to a stop and the large man emerged from behind the curtain separating the front compartment where Nick and Giovanna were seated. He had a disingenuous grin on his face. “I trust you had a pleasant nap, Mr. Manzione?”

  “Yes, I did, dickhead. It would’ve been nicer without a baseball bat to my skull.”

  “Actually, it was my fist.”

  Nick raised his cuffed hands and felt for cuts on his scalp, but only found an extreme welt on the top left side.

  “Don’t worry pretty boy,” the big man scoffed. “You’re still an Adonis!”

  “Where are we going now?” Giovanna asked.

  “You are getting off this plane and taking another short trip. Please follow me, Gorgeous.”

  “What about Nick?” Giovanna asked, concerned.

  “He’ll be coming later. For now, we need to keep you two separated. It’s a self- insurance program!” he chuckled.

  Nick tried standing, but a firm hand pushed him back into his seat. He looked over his shoulder to see the woman attendant pointing a 38 snub nose at him.

  “I’ll have to keep you entertained for a while, Mr. Manzione,” she said playfully, grinning at Nick. “I’m sure we’ll find something to do, but if you misbehave, I have no qualms about shooting your pretty face off.”

  The man stepped toward Giovanna and extended his hand. “It’s time to go.”

  She looked pleadingly at Nick.

  “Go ahead, Gia,” Nick said calmly. “There’s nothing we can do now. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

  Nick watched from the window as she got into a waiting car.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Steven boarded a bus to Tena at the Terminal Terrestre Cumanda in Quito. The first part of the drive crossed the Tumbaco Valley and passed through several villages. Beyond the valley, the road became steep and winding as it entered the high Andean Plains. As the bus climbed higher it began to rain, enveloping the bus in low-lying clouds. When the bus emerged from the cloud bank, the terrain had changed into a treeless landscape, only to be replaced by lushness as the bus descended into another valley where the rain had stopped and the skies had cleared.

  Steven glimpsed the Sumaco Volcano, rising above the jungle in the distance. This would have been a spectacular sight, but he was too preoccupied with Father Mateuse to enjoy the view. Even if he managed to find the priest, would he really want to help Steven kill his friend? Steven knew his journey into the mountains was a long shot, but he had no choice. He felt lonely and desperate.

  When the bus arrived in Tena, Steven was starving. The driver directed Steven to a local eatery across a pedestrian bridge. The restaurant was small, with an open-air dining room and an unobstructed view of the river he had just crossed. Steven decided that with such a pristine-looking river nearby, he should probably go with the fish, and left the details of preparation to the waitress who approached him for his order.

  Steven sat back and examined the restaurant. There were several Europeans mixed in with local Indians and Ecuadorians, probably from Quito on business. Steven overheard a conversation at the next table between two young women speaking English interspersed with Spanish. He figured this was a good opportunity to locate the priest. He leaned closer to the table and excused himself.

  “Hello. I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I couldn’t help overhearing you speak English. I was wondering if you could help me.”

  The young woman nearest Steven smiled at him. “We are students from Quito. We are studying English and we’re practicing.”

  Steven returned the smile. “You both speak English quite well. I wish my Spanish was half as good as your English.”

  Both women smiled politely.

  “I am visiting a missionary in this area and I don’t know where to find him. His name is Father Pierre Mateuse. Have you heard of him?”

  The first women nodded. “Yes. I am a Quichuan Indian, and my family lives in Tena. We all know Father Mateuse. He is a good and holy man. His closest mission is in Archidona, just north of Tena. There is a bus you can take or you can get a local driver to take you. It’s a short drive, about fifteen minutes. Father Mateuse goes back and forth into the mountains to different missions, but you can ask at the church when you arrive and they will tell you where to find him.”

  Steven thanked her for the help just as the waitress arrived with a whole, grilled fish staring back at him. The fish was simmering in red beans and cooked onions. Steven felt a resurgence of confidence as he hungrily consumed the local delicacy, happy that it hadn’t taken long to locate the priest.

  -------------------

  It was three o’clock when Steven left the restaurant, and the sun was casting afternoon shadows around him. Tena was a completely different world. Although Steven was indeed an outsider, he felt welcome. He watched students in school uniforms pass by
, smiling at him, and children played on the shores of the river. He thought about missed opportunities with his daughters.

  There were signs everywhere for hostels and ecological excursions into the rainforest, which Steven assumed was the major source of revenue for Tena. He passed an open-air meat market, and was glad he had ordered the fish after glimpsing the carcasses hanging from the ceiling. The meat was unrecognizable, and he could only imagine the type of animals being displayed for consumption.

  As Steven walked down the street, he felt he was being watched. He turned his head, searching his surroundings, determined to find who was tailing him. He walked into a shop and then quickly emerged to scan the area. He thought he saw a figure duck into a store behind him. He walked slowly toward the bus terminal and turned down an alley. Halfway down the block, he darted off, wedging himself into a small opening between two buildings. Minutes later, a tall, skinny man crept by, moving tentatively, his head jerking in every direction like a chicken. He was nervous and sweating. Steven waited until the man passed him before springing from his hiding place, slamming his pursuer into a wall.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Steven screamed.

  The man cried out in Spanish and covered his face, expecting a beating.

  “I didn’t hurt you–yet! But if you don’t answer my question I’m going to, comprende?”

  The man fell to his knees and began begging for his life, something Steven could comprehend in any language.

  Suddenly, Steven was spun around. A huge fist slammed into his abdomen, driving him to his knees. Steven managed to look up, only to see two uniformed policemen. The larger one stood directly over him with a menacing expression, while the smaller officer yelled at Steven’s stalker, who scrambled to his feet and ran away.

  “Vaya conmigo!” the smaller officer ordered, his face inches from Steven’s face. The bigger man yanked Steven to his feet and pushed him to follow the first officer. Steven tried to explain himself, but the large officer spun him around again, slamming cuffs on his wrists. Steven pointed to his bags, but the small officer placed a finger to his lips indicating Steven should remain quiet.

 

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