The man reaches into his pocket and removes an envelope. "Here is ten thousand dollars, as promised, for your journey. You are to meet your contact in Montana in three days. There is a map enclosed. A place called Bozeman. The instructions are in the envelope. From there you will go to Vancouver, British Columbia, and it is from there that you will depart for home. May Allah carry you in his hand."
Ahmed takes the envelope. "Thank you, professor. May Allah guide you, in all of your future tasks."
They both rise and embrace. The professor gathers the bags as Ahmed leaves the room.
***
Adriana jogs in the cold evening air wearing her black ball cap and outfit to match, taking long strides like a deer as she glides around a corner and down the sidewalks. She slows as she enters a large apartment complex and walks briskly along the dimly lit walkway to the clubhouse by the pool, steaming as the warm water vaporizes into the cold air. She approaches the clubhouse where she had met Reggie several times before, peers inside, and scans the room. There are two women on treadmills and an older man working on a machine.
Reggie is working on a weight bench with heavy weight. Adriana removes her cap and tucks her hair under her sweatshirt. She pulls a veil from her pocket, places it over her head, and puts the ball cap back on over the veil. Adriana looks around, and a woman walking a dog enters the parking lot behind the clubhouse.
She pulls a twenty-two automatic from a holster on her ankle, opens the door to the clubhouse and rushes in. She steps where she has a chance and a clear shot at Reggie. As he lifts the bar, she takes aim. The woman on the treadmill screams at the veiled assailant and falls off the machine due to the distraction.
Reggie hears the scream and looks—as the bar comes down on him—and sees the weapon pointed at him by the scary veiled gunman. He rolls as the flash of the muzzle ignites and he hears the multiple shots hitting the bench and the floor next to him as he rolls from under the bar to avoid being hit.
Adriana pulls the trigger until the weapon is empty. She kicks the door open as she retreats from the clubhouse. The door remains open and Reggie catches a scent that overpowers the gunsmoke that has filled the room.
He gets up and feels a warmth on his back and then down his leg. He reaches and feels the warm blood running down his side of his leg, he realizes, Shit man, I'm hit.
He applies pressure as he leaves the clubhouse, while the woman inside is still screaming hysterically. He heads for the house.
Adriana jogs briskly through a maze of apartment complexes as she makes her way down the block through three complexes and finally emerges onto the street where she parked her car.
She walks as she disables the alarm and jumps in out of breath. Her adrenaline is rushing like a freight train through her veins.
She slowly pulls away as she hears sirens whaling and getting closer. Her BMW disappears down the street. She pulls off her cap and veil, then removes her running gloves and places them on the floor behind the passenger seat. She then removes her sweatshirt as she pulls onto the freeway. She maintains the speed limit as she blends into traffic. She knows the small caliber pistol would not cause blood splatter. Now she is unsure if Reggie is critically injured or not, and she has to make sure she completes the task before she leaves for Wyoming. She is angry that she did not get closer to her target. She has blown it.
Adriana exits the freeway and pulls into a parking structure she is familiar with; one which she knows contains no cameras. She pulls to the third level and parks.
Adriana quickly changes her clothes and places everything into a paper bag, including the veil and gloves with the cap. She still has the gun strapped to her ankle. She removes the holster, which she adds to the contents of the bag with the clothes. She disassembles the handgun into parts and removes the barrel. She uses some Vaseline from her purse to wipe the parts clean, then sets them on the floor.
She leaves the parking structure and stops in the alley to discard the bag of clothes in a trash dumpster. She gets out and pushes the bag deeply in the corner of the bin. She soaks the corner of the bin with lighter fluid as she soaks the bag of clothes. She empties the can, and throws it in and ignites the fluid. The dumpster erupts with flames as she drives away. Adriana watches in her rear view mirror to make sure that no one is watching.
She discards the gun parts in several dumpsters over three miles, and she is now satisfied that she will remain unconnected to the clubhouse event. Regardless of accusation, there is no evidence.
Reggie finally arrives at his modest house after deliberating whether he should go to a hospital, and he is feeling the pain of his wound as the shock wears off. The customer's car he is driving has blood on the seat and floor.
He walks in the kitchen entrance and removes a gun from the refrigerator. Reggie clears his house. He enters the bathroom and checks his wound in the mirror. It's an in-and-out hole in his side just above his waist that missed his vital organs. He pours alcohol over the entry and exit points then bandages the wound. He goes into the kitchen and opens a chilled bottle of Hennessey, taking a long swig and eyeing the wall clock before punching numbers on his cell phone, hoping to reach his lawyer.
Matt Cohen has just left his office and zips down I-25 in his Porsche, heading for his home in Lakewood. His phone rings, he puts on his Bluetooth and answers, "This is Matt Cohen."
Reggie is glad to hear his lawyer's voice. "Hey, Mr. C., you're there. I was going to leave you a voice mail."
"Reggie, what's up, is everything all right?"
"Everything ain't all right. I need to see you as early as possible in the morning, if that's cool."
Matt responds, "How about eight, I have a nine-thirty and a ten-thirty already."
"I'll be there at eight bells sharp, Mr. C."
Matt Cohen hangs up and wonders what is on his client's mind; he hopes that he has stayed out of trouble.
Matt arrives at his offices early and checks his e-mail. There is a message from Ray Velazquez from the Denver DA's office. He opens the message:
Matt,
Here is the info you requested. This one interests us as well. Please call me as soon as you have evaluated the details.
Sincerely,
Ray Velazquez
Lead Investigator
Denver District Attorney's Office.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
ADRIANA PUCCI: FEMALE BORN: BAGHDAD IRAQ 1981 AGE: 29 HT. 5'7" WT: 119 EYE'S/HAIR BLK/BRN MOTHER: SULLA KARROOS – BORN, KABUL AFGHANISTAN. FATHER: HAURAKI SADDAM TARSIQ: BORN IRAQ: CITY UNKNOWN: ENGINEER: KILLED: MARCH 7, 1981, ISRAELI BOMBING OF NUCLEAR REACTOR, NEAR BAGHDAD IRAQ. SUBJECT WAS ADOPTED: JULY 1984 BY VITTORIO AND DORA PUCCI/ DEVELOPER: MIDDLE EAST INFRASTRUCTURE UNITED STATES CONTRACTOR W/INTERNATIONAL LICENSING. SUBJECT GRADUATE BOULDER UNIVERSITY: W/HONORS: BACHELOR SCIENCE IN LINGUISTICS AND BUSINESS. GRADUATE: CHERRY HILLS HIGH SCHOOL WITH FULL SCHOLARSHIP. ARRESTS JUVENILE: NONE KNOWN. ARREST: 11/09/2001. LOS ANGELES CA. LAPD: MISDEMEANOR PROTEST VIOLATION AND RESISTING ARREST: PALESTINIAN CONFLICT PROTEST. DISP: FINE $200.00 / TIME SERVED TWO DAYS ARREST: O5/22/2000 / SEATTLE WASHINGTON: SPD MISDEMEANOR: DISTURBING THE PEACE/LOITERING/MENACING IN PROTEST. DISP: CHARGES DISMISSED NTS: CUSTODY DETAINMENT AND RELEASE ONLY. EMPLOYMENT: PBS TELEVISION /DENVER COLORADO 80019
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Matt sends a thank you reply. He now has a good idea how Adriana Pucci came to be in Denver, but he cannot connect her to David and his company. Was there a connection he was missing? Why was Dana so interested in her? He decided to check with Joe and see if he had found anything out about David Bloomfield. Matt wanted some coffee before Reggie arrived.
***
The wind blows cold up on Lookout Mountain as Dana looks down at Denver in the morning. She could not sleep and found herself standing where she used to come with her girlfriends to figure things out and talk shit about their problems. She is ill over David being in custody of the government. She misses him so much. She questions herself, wondering if she knew ev
erything, had she been stupid all along? Was David into illegal shit, which she knew nothing about?
She fights back tears and hugs herself in her ski parka as her hair blows in the biting wind. She decides to go see Matt and just barge in. It is too cold up here for her to think and she's not sixteen anymore.
***
Back at the law firm, Matthew leaves the break room and heads down the hall with his coffee as Reggie comes in the double glass doors in the reception area. Matt waves him down the hall. Reggie follows his attorney into his office.
Matt sees that his client is walking in a funny way. "What happened to you?"
Reggie opens his coat and raises his shirt revealing the bandages he self applied. "We got to talk, Mr. C. Last night I was the moving duck at the shooting gallery, but they didn't win this stuffed dog."
"Were you in the hospital? What happened, man?" Matt closes his office door and motions for his client to sit.
"I ain't been to any hospital. It was in and out, just a flesh wound. I lost part of my ear, though. Feels like I got into it with Mike Tyson." Reggie had not realized that he had smashed his ear with the weights. It happened when he dropped the bar and rolled to avoid being shot and killed by Adriana Pucci.
Matt sits down, sips his coffee, and realizes he has not offered any to Reggie, "You want coffee or juice?"
"No man, thanks, had mine already, I'm cool."
Matt asks again, "So what happened? Tell me from the beginning and don't leave anything out." Matt sets his coffee down and pushes over a pile of files and Adriana's photo slides out onto his desk. His client's eyes lock on Matt's desk.
Reggie jumps up and reaches for the photocopy to be sure it is her. Reggie is enraged, and Matt sees the pistol, now exposed in his belt as he jumps up. "What's going on here, Mr. C.? Why you got pictures of that bitch on your desk?"
Matt's eyes are as big as plates as his ominously large client moves forward with lighting speed. Matt raises his hands, "Whoa, Reggie, take it easy, buddy. What the hell are you talking about?"
Reggie holds up the photo, "Her man, that Italian Bitch. She's the one that tried to kill my ass last night." Reggie throws the photocopy back on Matt's desk and stares at him awaiting an answer.
Matt Cohen is surprised and stunned by his client's claim as he picks up the photo.
"This woman tried to kill you last night? Are you sure this woman shot you?"
Reggie lowers his voice and takes a deep breath. "Damn right, I'm sure. We been partners for two years. Her name is Adriana Pucci. That bitch is as fine as wine, and as dangerous as a pit bull in a bunny farm. Why you have her picture, Mr. C.?"
The attorney says, "She is the focus of a private investigation I'm doing for another client."
"Private investigation. I can tell you more than your ass could ever find out. She's why I'm here today, that chick tried to lay me out last night."
Matt regains focus. "Reggie, sit down. I need to think a minute. You said you and she where partners? Partners in what exactly?"
Reggie eases himself into the chair. He has aggravated his wound. "Partners in what do you think? She is the one that I get my H from Mr. C., don't you get it? We have been doing it like that for two and a half years as partners."
Matthew is still trying to get his mind around this. "Why did she try to kill you if you are partners, and where did this happen? Were there any witnesses?"
"Man, you ask questions three at a time. First of all, do you know where she is at, right now?"
He realizes that his client's intent and his motivation validate his claim that this woman tried to kill him. "No, but Reggie, you have to tell me everything you know about this woman. Why did she try to kill you?"
Reggie looks at Matt and decides to throw it out there and see if he can get more insight as to why he is investigating her. "We met the other night because she was checking to see if I had received my next shipment of H, and I told her she was crazy for sending it because I just got busted. But she didn't seem to know anything about it. So when she found out, she got scared and told me to get rid of the shit fast. Then she walked out of the restaurant, telling me she would be in touch. Then a day later, last night, she got in touch all right."
Again, Matt is blown away by this enlightenment from Reggie and digs deeper. "Where exactly did the shooting happen, and were there any witnesses?"
Reggie answers his attorney, "There is this apartment complex over on Quebec Way near Hampden Avenue, down the street from my crib. I use the gym in the clubhouse there every other night. I used to date this chick that lived there, and she gave me the card to the clubhouse door. So I was working on the bench when I hear this lady scream who is running on the treadmill behind me. I look up, and there is this person wearing a running outfit, and a scary mask over her head with a ball cap on. It was like see-through or something. She was wearing gloves, pointing a small automatic at my ass. Then I dropped the bar as I rolled out, and was hit in the ear first, then in the side. She emptied the gun. Man, rounds were flying everywhere, and then I heard the door slam and knew she was gone."
Matt leans forward. "How did you know that it was her, if the shooter was wearing a mask?"
"I saw her neck and her hair as she moved to shoot me, and that thing she had over head wasn't tight, it was just kind hanging, and believe me, it was her. I could smell her fine ass."
"What do you mean you could smell her?"
"This chick is intoxicating enough all on her own, but she wears this perfume I have never smelled anywhere else in my life. As I left, I could smell her all the way out of the door. It was Adriana for sure. I'd testify before God to it."
Matt believes him, but wants to verify. "We will talk about that later, but you are one hundred percent sure that it was her?"
"I am not going to say it again. Mr. C. Adriana Pucci tried to take my ass out last night. It was her, for sure."
"What about the lady who screamed, was she hit? Was she the only one in the clubhouse with you?"
"No man, she wasn't hit. She was screaming like a nut. I have seen her there before though, she lives in that complex. There was an old dude who's always there too, and a fat chick, about thirty with blonde hair."
"Reggie, excuse me a minute. I'm going to cancel my other appointments for today, this needs all of my attention." Matt gets up and opens the door. "Just hang out here for a couple of minutes."
Matt walks down the hall putting all this together in his head. He approaches the receptionist and asks her to call his two appointments and reschedule for another day. He asks her to bring coffee and water to his office. He walks into the meeting room and dials Dana's cell phone.
Dana is driving down I-70 from Lookout Mountain and when her phone rings she checks to see who's calling. "Hi Matt, I was just thinking about you. Do you have any news about David?"
"Not yet, Dana, how soon can you get to my office?"
She hears the urgency in his voice. "What's the matter Matt? Are they going to file charges on me?"
He just wants her to get her ass there and quit asking questions. "Nobody is filing anything yet. They have to have some reason to file against you. Just get here as fast you can, please. How long will it take you?"
She does not tell him she was heading there anyway. "I'll be there in less than thirty minutes."
Chapter Twelve
Ahmed has nothing to do and is watching CNN at the market. There are familiar shots that he recognizes of Kabul, Syria, Amman, Jordon, and Baghdad. They are now showing western troop withdrawals and equipment movement in mass exodus from his lands. He is excited to think that he played a part in this history, and he decides that he will record the event somehow when he returns home where he will be safe.
The familiar anchor, who has a short gray beard and always stands for his broadcasts, is speaking. "White House Press Secretary Mark Castle called a press conference today announcing that Secretary of Defense George Gerald has ordered an immediate fall back of all American
military forces in the Middle East, interrupting countless military operations in progress."
"The decision was made as a proposed strategy originally endorsed by Secretary of Defense George Gerald, who cited the need for a more cohesive intelligence approach utilizing the technological advantages developed within the Pentagon's resources. He stated that the lives of our troops being placed at risk as being an unnecessary liability."
"The press secretary denied questions and allegations by the press corps that this decision by the president and the secretary of defense was based on the Al Jezeera video released by the Taliban second-in-command Imam Al Wahiri, demanding a pullout of American forces from the regions of Islam."
"White House Press Secretary Mark Castle stated, ". . . that was ridiculous. The president does not respond to terrorist threats, and that is the standing policy of the United States of America. Calls to the Pentagon and the offices of the Joint Chiefs of Staff have gone unanswered so far."
Ahmed hits the remote and turns the television off. He imagines himself standing before Allah, and receiving his grace and approval for his life's actions and recognition for the deeds he committed in his name.
Dana enters the law offices and sees her reflection in the glass doors. Her hair is a mess from the wind. She pulls it back and wraps a scrunchy around her blonde locks and approaches the receptionist, who recognizes her as she enters.
"Mr. Cohen will be right out to see you, Miss Underwood. I'll let him know you're here."
Matt comes down the hall and directs Dana into a conference room and closes the door.
"Dana, I need to know why exactly you retained me to investigate this girl Adriana Pucci. No bullshit, the full story."
"You rushed me down here to ask me about that?"
He responds in his most serious voice. "Dana, this is very important. Please answer my question."
Dana sits down. "This is embarrassing, but she is David's assistant at his office."
Matt almost falls over as she speaks.
"She is new there, and David is always raving about her work and how much she makes his life so much easier. He talks about how efficient she is. So, the few times I have called she has treated me kind of catty, knowing who I was, and she puts me on hold forever. And when I ask David why am I on hold so long he says, 'What are you talking about? She just told me you were on the line.' So that pissed me off. Then, David's praise of her made me kind of insecure and jealous. So I Googled her, and here is this drop-dead gorgeous cheerleader who is now tending to his every need, ten hours a day, five days a week."
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