Surrept

by Andrews, Taylor

  The room erupts with laughter as Matthew comes in wondering what is going on.

  Reggie continues, "Here comes Perry Mason on steroids, everybody hold onto your gold teeth. There's a lawyer in the room and he probably wants a check."

  The laughter erupts again.

  Dana tries to reach her big black friend but cannot. Agent Davenport rolls her bed closer and Dana grabs Reggie and hugs him.

  He smiles. "I told you the other night that you have to learn to control yourself from wanting this beautiful black man. Besides I think I'm going be down for a minute here."

  Dana squeezes him. "You're my road dog for life, Reggie."

  "Road dog? Check you out, talking all lickity-split."

  Matthew Cohen looks on at his clients and thanks God that they are all right now. In the world's view, Dana Underwood and Reginald Haynes are world-class heroes.

  Agent Taylor looks at Matt and extends his hand, "Mr. Cohen, you sir, are a credit to the defense pool. It was a pleasure working together; this country owes you great thanks, and I thank you. I've never seen a more radical play than the one you made yesterday while surrounded by more feds than a bank robber with a neon sign on his chest."

  Matt looks at his clients propped in their beds. "So we pulled it off. This is the agreement for immunity from prosecution for David and Reggie. David will be released tonight. The firm has a car picking him up at the Denver FBI office. You people are international heroes. Did you know that?"

  Reggie looks at his lawyer. "What do mean immunity from prosecution? Are you saying my thing is over? No court, no charges?"

  Matt hands him the agreement. "Like I said, you guys are heroes. You are all over the news: CNN, Fox, all the locals, and every media publication in the world."

  Reggie reads the agreement and when he comes to the signatures he recites the name. "Signed and approved by Robert D. Hastings, United States Attorney General."

  Dana claps excitedly for her new friend. He looks at her and then at Matt.

  "This is unbelievable. You said I was looking at the least five to eight years no matter what because the sentencing guidelines could bring as much as twenty and this says we are done. It's over."

  Matt smiles. "You're paying for legal representation, and you got what you're paying for, Reggie."

  Reggie looks at him, "How much, Mr. C.?"

  Matt looks at his client and picks up his briefcase. "Well, I wasn't going to bring it up until you were better, but I got this check at the office the other day from the State of Colorado, for one hundred thousand dollars on your bail refund when they dropped the charges. Therefore, I figure that eight years of freedom is worth at least twelve grand a year, which is a grand a month for your freedom, which comes to ninety-six thousand plus expenses. I think that is fair. What say you, Mr. Haynes?"

  Reggie looks at his attorney. "I told you he was looking for a check. So let me get this straight. I retained you for two hundred grand."

  Matt nods.

  "I also signed a power of attorney under your advice for my bail to be released by the firm, so we could expedite them to get my funds back to me quicker, and now you're telling me that I owe a hundred grand plus expenses and we're good. Is that what you're saying?"

  Matt says, "Yes, that's what I'm saying. Is there a problem?"

  Reggie is a little confused about how he should react. Mr. C. did get him out of deep trouble, and worked magic with the feds, but three hundred grand? He looks at his attorney. "So you want me to sign that check, right?"

  Matt hands his client the envelope, "There are two checks you need to sign, if you want to take care of your business and obligations, and do what's smart."

  Reggie looks in the envelope and pulls out two checks. One is from the state of Colorado for one hundred thousand dollars, and the other is from Matt's firm for ninety three thousand dollars also made out to him. "What are we doing here exactly?"

  Matt looks at Reggie, with a straight face. "I didn't have time to prepare your case statement. Essentially, we're charging you one hundred and seven thousand dollars for legal fees, including expenses, and returning your bail that you entrusted to us for collection from the State of Colorado. I just need a receipt that you received your funds, if that's not too much trouble."

  Dana smiles as Reggie recovers from Matt's ploy. Reggie starts removing the tape from his IV, Matt looks at him, "Reggie what are you doing?"

  "I'm fixing to whip your joking ass, as soon as I can get this crap off."

  Matt laughs and says, "Besides, we couldn't stick it to a national hero."

  Reggie looks over to Dana, "Hero? That little girl right there is the hero; I was just backing her play all the way through this thing. She would not back down for nothing man. That David got himself one hell of a partner for life with this girl."

  The door opens and David Bloomfield and Richard Underwood enter the room.

  Dana calls out, "David!" She reaches for him, and then adds, "Daddy!"

  Her father rushes to hug his daughter. Dana squeezes her dad with her head on his shoulder as she stares at David with tears in her eyes.

  She says, "I have the best family and friends a girl could ask for. Not only do I have a great family, and the best road dog to run with, I also have the greatest lawyer in the world."

  The door opens again, and there are two suits standing outside, one speaks.

  "Reginald Haynes."

  Reggie answers, "Yeah that would be me."

  He turns to Dana, "Dana Underwood." She grabs her father's hand, "Yes, I'm Dana."

  "My name is Special Agent Gary Fielding of the United States Secret Service; the president of The United States would like to visit with you both and your families. He also requests permission to visit with you now. Can I tell him you will see him now? He is waiting down the hall."

  ***

  Two days later, twelve thousand miles south, Adriana Pucci walks along the beach in El Agua de Playa, an exclusive resort on Santa Margarita Island just off the coast of Venezuela in the Caribbean.

  She is dressed in a chic white Brazilian bikini wearing shades, a turquoise Dior sun hat, and a Ralph Lauren sheer white over blouse. She watches the patio of a resort as she walks near the water line next to the waves. This is her third pass down the beach.

  She has a small flesh-colored bandage on her shoulder from the wound she received from Dana. She wonders if her meeting is going to happen. She is nervous about the call she made to Langley, Virginia after seeing a cryptic message left online for her.

  She had Googled herself before she left Washington State, and found the message at the top of her search, it said, "Farah Salwa, you must contact me immediately, your continued future depends on it."

  "Deuce."

  There was a phone number, which she checked, and discovered that it was originating from Langley.

  She called the number from one of her disposable phones.

  A man answered. "This is Deuce."

  She said, "I understand you were looking for Salwa?"

  He replied, "How are you holding up, Adriana, or should I say, Miss Rampino?"

  She was scared and hung the phone up. A minute later her phone rang and she answered.

  The man said, "I can come to Washington State and meet with you, or you can name the spot."

  She did not answer.

  He then said, "Adriana, if I wanted to harm or apprehend you, I could have just knocked on your door in room three-forty-one there at the motor hotel."

  That was the room number where she had been staying at the Quality Inn in Washington State. She then named the spot here on Margarita Island to hear what this person wanted from her. Adriana figured if he wanted her, he had the means to do so, and that he was probably the CIA or some other agency spook. The man in Vancouver dealt with spooks. Maybe this could work in her favor.

  She watches the patio and finally sees a man with a straw hat, wearing a floral-print shirt. He is carrying a newspaper, all just like he said
. She realizes that her clandestine appointment sits at the table she had reserved under the name Rampino. He is older than he sounded on the phone; in his fifties, but in good shape.

  Adriana surveys the beach as she moves toward the patio. There are not many Americans on the island; mostly locals, South Americans, and Europeans.

  The beach is crowded and she has to choose a limited path through the mass of towels and day encampments claimed on the sand.

  He is reading the Wall Street Journal, as he said that he would be. She watches as a waiter brings his coffee. He seems uninterested in the world around him as she climbs the stairs of the patio from the beach. She looks at every table on the large patio, but there are no signs of others watching.

  Adriana walks confidently as she is admired by most all of the men on the patio. She moves cautiously as she approaches the table. She chooses the seat opposite her guest.

  Her hand stays in her bag on her lap. Her guest lowers the newspaper and looks over it at the stunning young woman. "Good morning, Miss Pucci, I would advise you strongly to take your right hand out of your bag. You should probably set the bag on the deck next to you, and we're just going to talk."

  Adriana glances around behind her shades. She reluctantly complies as she addresses him. "So what do I call you?"

  He sets the paper down as she sets her bag down. Adriana then realizes that it's a signal that all is well. "You can call me Deuce. Most of my friends do."

  They study each other for a moment.

  Leo Matz begins, "Adriana, you realize that if I move, just a certain way, I could have your brains splattered all over my newspaper and the table behind you. Just relax."

  She studies him and sees no lack of confidence in his statement or posture. "So, Deuce, if you want to be my friend, that's hardly the kind of dialogue that will win me over."

  Leo Matz is impressed by her steadiness. He pegs her as a sociopath. "Friendships are earned and built over time Adriana, after there is a history."

  Adriana knows now that his motive is to turn her and then probably eliminate her or bring her in. Either way she has to sell him something that will keep her free and alive.

  "I don't believe in friendships Deuce. I have learned that any successful relationship only lasts as long as they benefit the parties involved, or they usually end in some negative fashion."

  Leo is done with small talk. "Adriana, you are still alive because I have chosen to keep you that way for now. You have information we need. That information is such that we consider it to have a value. How much is your life worth and that pretty face remaining intact?"

  Adriana maintains her cold stare from behind her shades as he continues his pitch.

  Leo says, "I prefer not to have to inflict pain and injury, or turn you over to the FBI, so they can then threaten you with prosecution, and incarceration or the death penalty. I don't have time for all that while you sit and rot in prison."

  Adriana stares at him; she would rather die, she thinks to herself. She knows that she deals or dies right here right now. She is not going to prison. "Well, nice to finally meet the real you, Deuce, but if you kill me, you might not find the truth behind all this, and that could cost you and that history you referred to. Both would have very negative outcomes, and I assure you I have greater value that far exceeds the twenty-five million on my head, and the FBI would be more than willing to make a deal with me. They would jump at that opportunity, and you know that."

  Leo opens the door. "Give me an example of your value, and convince me to keep you in play, out in the world as an asset, Farah Salwa."

  Adriana removes her sunglasses and looks Leo in the eyes. "I can give you information indentifying those responsible for the attacks and future attacks that will alter the present direction of the world, as you now know it today."

  Leo is chilled by the duality of the beauty and coldness in her eyes.

  She continues, "The men behind it, their connection to Hamas, Iran, and the factions in the Arab kingdom that have financed and conspired to assure success in the plan designed to influence profits in world financial markets." Adriana pauses for him to consider her dialogue "This information could prevent the plan for Arab world domination, and ensure the salvation of Israel as a state. I can prove that the entire plan is disguised as radical Islamic justice. To look like it is motivated via Jihad, by puppet groups like Al Qaeda, for the sake of Islam. I can take you through every door and window of the Arab plan to build its castle on top of the world."

  Leo Matz was right about her; Farah Salwa is a once-in-a-lifetime find in the intelligence community. "Adriana, if we buy into this immense tale that you have just described, what do you want in exchange for every detail of what you know, besides staying alive, which is still optional at this moment?"

  Adriana speaks clear and concisely. "I want five million for each piece of the puzzle as we progress; I want my life and the freedom to live it out naturally. But I get to take out the main player when it's time, he does not get to live and survive a prosecution."

  Leo has what he needs in Adriana Pucci, but has one last question. "Why did you choose Venezuela to meet?"

  She smiles. "The mastermind behind all of this is here in Caracas for two weeks. He has business with the Venezuelan leader and his puppet administration regarding relations with Tehran, all on the behalf of the Arab kingdom. I was to be the liaison and interpreter. However, he intends to kill me like all of the others, and that is not an option, because if I am dead, then the world is about to change forever, Deuce."

  The End

  WATCH FOR THE NEXT RELEASE IN THE "SURREPT" SERIES, "ALL THAT IS SURREPT"

  BY TAYLOR ANDREWS

  Acknowledgements

  I, as the author, wish to shine light on a few people whom without their participation and inspiration, this work would not have happened:

  Tim, you are my brother from another mother, thanks for all your help, and the spark that ignited this piece.

  Cy, you know who you are, and what you are to me. There is no other like you, nor has there ever been. Nor will there be, your guidance, kindness and support has changed my life.

  Lisa, you changed the world. Your anonymity will never surpass the good that you have done; you are the quiet hero known by a select few, who as me are proud to have known you. Thank you for your contributions, insight, and participation.

  Brion, you rock. Although we have never met, you treated this project like your own, and gave it its face and personality, thank you.

  The team at T.M. Andrews Publishing LLC. Thanks to all of you for believing in me, and this project.

  You all are brilliant. I am fortunate to have you all on my team. You made it happen, see you on the board.

  Taylor Andrews

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Acknowledgements