by Bryan Murray
Lorenzo was interrupted from his thoughts by one of his Capos, Genaro, a tough-looking, swarthy man with dark hair. “Your visitor is arriving, Don Lorenzo.” he announced.
Lorenzo looked down towards the beach below and across to the helipad that was located half-way down the steep cliffs on the Mediterranean side of the villa, where his armed soldiers were awaiting the arrival of the incoming chopper.
Don Luigi had done an outstanding job of protecting the villa and with only one heavily-guarded road up from the city below and with the impregnable helipad halfway up the cliffs, if the law got too close, the family could always make a quick exit by chopper if required.
Lorenzo looked down, watching the chopper come in to land and as the five bodyguards of the occupant climbed out they shook hands with Lorenzo’s soldiers before the final occupant also in Arab dress, like his bodyguards, stepped down from the chopper and started the climb up to the villa.
Lorenzo then excused himself from the party and went over to his grandfather, who looked up from dozing in the sun as Lorenzo approached. “My guests have arrived, Grandfather.” he explained to the old man. Don Luigi realized immediately who he was talking about. In a voice little more than a coarse whisper he replied.
“Handle this special arrangement with great care, Lorenzo and let me know how it goes?”
Lorenzo nodded. “I will, Grandfather.” he kissed the old man on the forehead before leaving.
* * *
By the time Lorenzo’s special visitor had climbed up to the Villa, Lorenzo was already in his office waiting to greet him. Genaro ushered the man inside and left closing the door behind him with Lorenzo’s soldiers and the visitor’s bodyguards outside the door in the corridor if needed.
Lorenzo smiled and came round the desk to shake hands with the Al-Qaeda General Khalid al-Ajim, a dangerous-looking Arab with a diagonal scar across his left cheek.
“Welcome to my home, General,” he began. “I am pleased to offer you and your colleagues my humble hospitality and to discuss my reason for requesting this special meeting.”
The General, who spoke excellent English, smiled. “I am honored to meet with you and your family, Don Lorenzo and most anxious to hear what you have in mind?”
Lorenzo moved over to two comfortable chairs on the balcony, overlooking the sea, motioning the General to a seat beside him. He then started to explain.
“What I would like to offer to you and your superiors, General, is the opportunity to negotiate the release of your leader Jamal al-Midari. We both know he is now in US custody in the Guantanamo Detention Camp in the US Naval Base in Cuba.”
The General was immediately interested and sat forward in his seat. “Negotiate in what way, Don Lorenzo?”
Lorenzo’s research had shown him that the imprisoned Al-Qaeda leader Jamal al-Midari had risen quickly through the Al-Qaeda ranks after his previous superior had been killed following a US drone attack where US Navy Seals had gone in and killed all other survivors before finally capturing al-Midari, second only to Ayman al-Zawahiri himself.
The Americans had then transferred him for detailed interrogation to the Guantanamo Detention Camp in Cuba. After many complaints by human rights groups concerning the activities in Guantanamo and the methods of interrogation used by the Americans, the US activities had been curtailed considerably, but there were still a number of key detainees out there with al-Midari being one of them and this was what had got the immediate attention of the General.
Lorenzo took a deep breath and started to explain his devious plan. “What we can provide you with, General is a special negotiation package that you can offer to the Americans in return for the release of your leader.”
The General, himself an astute negotiator, replied. “And I assume that in return for this so-called package, the Mafia will expect to be paid?”
Lorenzo nodded, things were progressing nicely. “Exactly, General. In return for a payment of twenty million dollars, we can provide the package, with five million dollars payable up front and the balance payable only on the return of your leader safely back to Al-Qaeda.”
The General was listening intently. So far so good. “Please continue?” he prompted.
“Everything would be organized by the Mafia and the non-returnable five million would cover all the special expenses of my people to try and make the arrangement work. This is an excellent plan, but as we both know even the best plans may hit an unexpected problem.”
He could see that the General was still interested and that the numbers mentioned had not even fazed him. Lorenzo had also read correctly that Al-Qaeda must be extremely concerned at what al-Midari may yield under special interrogation.
“And the details of the negotiation package, Don Lorenzo?” the General inquired.
“Will be given once you and your superiors confirm that you are ready to do the deal.” Lorenzo replied.
The General thought for a moment. “I understand, I will discuss your proposal with my senior colleagues and get back to you quickly,” he paused for effect. “But be assured that if we do go ahead, we will insist on knowing every detail of the plan?”
“Excellent! Excellent!” Lorenzo rose to his feet to indicate the meeting was over. “I will await your confirmation, General!” The two men shook hands and the General and his staff left.
CHAPTER 3
One week later, the scene inside the villa of Don Luigi was one of intense mourning after the ailing Godfather had failed to survive a major stroke two days previously. Lorenzo was devastated at the loss of the grandfather he adored as were the rest of the family.
Across Sicily and the world, the death of the Don had been met with very mixed emotions. Many were delighted that the old gangster had finally died and others were saddened at the loss of the ‘Padron’ who had been their benefactor for years as they had carried out the deadly deeds of the Mob.
As part of his training to take over the complicated affairs of the family, Lorenzo had spent many hours in the past with the Mob attorneys and financial advisors and he had held many meetings with the Senior Capos of the family around the world, especially in the USA, where he had been trying desperately to increase the Mob’s involvement, but having met staunch resistance from the present occupant of the White House, President Parker himself, ably assisted by the Vice-President.
Potential revenues from gambling, prostitution and drugs in the USA, the most affluent country on the planet, would be worth many millions more to Lorenzo, if he could only get past the political roadblocks still ahead.
* * *
After a sad funeral ceremony in the Church of St. Mary of Portosalvo on the Via Tavere in Pozzallo, filled to the doors with mourners, emphasizing the power of the late Godfather over the local community, Lorenzo and the family retired to the villa for a quiet, memorial dinner.
His mother Angelina was devastated at the loss of her father-in-law whom she adored and she listened in tears as Lorenzo finished his remarks in a final eulogy to his grandfather.
“Don Luigi was an inspiration to us all. He taught us the true meaning of what taking care of a large family is all about and he will be sadly missed,” he took a deep breath, tears in his eyes. “As the new Godfather, it is also my duty to name my successor in the event of my death and I have decided that my younger brother Giuseppe will be the one to succeed me in the foreseeable future.” Across the table, Giuseppe, Lorenzo’s younger brother, also tough-looking and dangerous, sat there with tears in his eyes as Lorenzo finished his brief speech.
“And now we have to finish the plans of Don Luigi to keep our family strong,” he raised his glass. “Rest in peace, my beloved mentor!” The family raised their glasses in a final loud toast. “Don Luigi!”
The sadness of the moment was interrupted as Genaro entered and came over to Lorenzo. He whispered. “I am sorry to interrupt you, Don Lorenzo, but the General has returned.”
Lorenzo excused himself and left with Genaro.
*
* *
The Al-Qaeda General was shown into Lorenzo’s office and the two men shook hands in greeting.
“Welcome back, General,” Lorenzo began. “Have your people reached a decision on our proposed venture?”
The General gave a wry smile. “We have, Don Lorenzo. A bank draft is being prepared as we speak for the five million dollars and we await your transit details.”
Lorenzo smiled. “Excellent, General!”
“However,” the General continued. “The transfer will only be made when we are given the exact details of the plan!”
Lorenzo then went on to explain his plan in detail to the General who sat there wide-eyed in admiration of Lorenzo’s creativity. When Lorenzo had finished, the General got up to leave.
“I am confident the Council of Al-Qaeda will approve the plan and I will organize the transfer of funds when I return.”
Lorenzo also stood up. “Thank you, General.”
The General then asked his final question. “And you are confident that the Mafia can handle everything?”
Lorenzo smiled. “Indeed General. The only thing we will need from you is your permission to use your name in our negotiations with the Americans!”
The General nodded. “I am sure that will not be a problem. Goodbye, Don Lorenzo.” The two men shook hands before the General left.
CHAPTER 4
At the University in Connecticut, the students were heading out for the Christmas break and Jeff and Andrew had planned to spend a couple of days with their respective families prior to meeting up with the rest of the students who were going on the pre-Christmas ski trip to Italy. Also joining the trip were their secret service detail Kevin and Gary.
In a family dinner at the White House, the President and the First Lady were delighted to spend some quality time with their son away from their busy schedules and it was very clear that they were a close, loving family. The President was anxious to know how college was going.
“Everything all right at University, son?” he asked as they were being served an appetizing, festive dinner.
“Fine, no problem.” Jeff replied.
“Good,” The President suddenly looked serious. “However, there is one thing we need to discuss, Jeff.”
“Like what?” Jeff sounded curious.
“As the son of the President,” his father began. “You must stop this reckless behaviour of trying to get away from your security detail. They are there for your protection, son, so please make sure they know where you are at all times, is that clear?”
“Yes, father.” Jeff replied.
“Particularly when you are in Europe on this ski trip. There are all kinds of villains over there who would harm the USA and the last thing we need is anything happening to you, okay?”
Jeff was truly remorseful. “Yes, Dad, I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“That’s all we ask, darling.” Elizabeth added.
Across the City, in their elegant home in the suburbs, Maria and Andrew were having a quiet snack by the fire. David Carrington, Andrew’s father was out of town on business.
Maria had also heard about the incident with Jeff and Andrew at the Christmas party on campus.
“And what was all this about you guys trying to leave the campus without your security detail, darling?”
Andrew was a little sheepish. “I know, I’m sorry, mom. It’s just....”
“Just what, honey?” Maria asked.
“You know, it’s like having two shadows, it’s hard to breathe,” he continued. “I mean they’re two good guys with good intentions, but at times I get nervous about even taking a leak without telling them!”
Maria put her arm around his shoulder. “I know and I’m sorry, Andrew, but this comes with the territory, son. The President’s and Vice-President’s families have to be protected and we owe it to the people who are trying to protect us to let them do their jobs, okay?”
Andrew nodded. “I’ll be more careful from now on, I promise. You have enough problems with helping the President to run this country, without any further stress from me.”
She smiled and hugged him. “That’s all I ask, honey. If anything happened to you, I swear I’d go insane!”
He smiled and hugged her back. “I know, so don’t worry, Mom.”
She smiled and got up from the table. “More coffee?”
He held out his cup. “Sure.”
CHAPTER 5
After a safe flight into Rome, Italy, the ski party of excited students grabbed their bags and boarded the tour bus with the male and female chaperones from the University checking them on board from their attendee list.
With the students eagerly checking out the passing scenery, cameras at the ready, the bus made its way through the outskirts of Rome and headed north east along Highway E80 before joining the A24 Rome/L’Aquila/Teramo Highway for the two hour drive. They were heading for the impressive ski resort at the foot of the Gran Sasso (Big Rock) Snow Mountain Complex.
Jeff and Andrew were enjoying the scenery and as they got closer to the resort it started to snow gently and the temperature continued to drop as they gained altitude.
Inside the bus, the Tour Guide explained to the students, most of whom hadn’t a clue what she was talking about, that their ski resort had been used in World War II as the prison for the Italian dictator Benito Mussolini after he had been voted out of office for his collaboration with the Nazis and replaced by Marshall Badoglio. The resort was also the scene of a daring German commando raid to rescue Mussolini and return him safely to his friend Adolf Hitler in Berlin.
When the Tour Guide went on to add that the resort had maintained Mussolini’s bedroom just as he had left it, Jeff’s comments to Andrew were that he hoped it wouldn’t be their room for the current trip! Such was the attitude of most present day students to any history dating back beyond the last Emmy Awards!
After settling into their rooms after the long trip, the students were scheduled to get together for a welcome dinner of special pasta dishes before retiring for the night. Jeff and Andrew had adjoining rooms with Kevin and Gary in a room on either side of them. Without the luxury of the CCTV that they had back at the university, Kevin and Gary had already been briefed by their boss Deke Winston, the Head of Secret Service in the White House, to be increasingly diligent in their protection of the First Son and his buddy.
Over dinner as they mingled with the other students, the boys realized that an après-ski party had been planned by some of the girls, there in the resort, after the next day’s work-outs on the slopes. The resort had been specially chosen by the University ski club due to its proximity to over one hundred kilometres of local ski runs amongst the breathtaking scenery of the surrounding Apennine Mountains.
Both Jeff and Andrew were accomplished skiers and they were looking forward to the next day after checking the snow forecast which looked very promising.
* * *
In a secluded cabin near to the resort, Lorenzo’s Capo Genaro was already on the phone to his boss in Sicily.
“This is Genaro, Padron. The target has arrived and the team are in place.”
Lorenzo was pleased. “And the getaway is guaranteed, I hope?”
“Absolutely, everyone knows what to do and they have all been paid.”
“Very well,” Lorenzo replied. “No mistakes, is that understood, Genaro?”
“Of course, Padron.”
“Keep me up to date on each step of the plan?” Lorenzo went off the line.
* * *
The next day had been a spectacular day weather wise with crisp white snow and cloudless, porcelain blue skies and the students had thoroughly enjoyed their day on the slopes. Even the first time skiers in the party had made excellent progress, aided by the skilled instructors on the resort staff.
Jeff and Andrew had taken the most exhilarating runs, gamely followed by Kevin and Gary, who were fortunately also experienced skiers.
* * *
That night at th
e après-ski party in the resort bar, the students were mingling with some of the locals, including two very sexily dressed local girls who immediately caught the roving eyes of Jeff and Andrew. When the boys realized that the girls spoke broken English, they soon invited them to dance and as the drinks began to flow, everyone was beginning to get in the party mood, all with the exception of Kevin and Gary as they continued to watch the two boys becoming more and more attracted to the two local girls.
Their specialized training for the job at hand had no room for alcohol and they continued to melt into the background, but never taking their eyes off the First Son and his friend.
Kevin was sipping on a soda and he turned to Gary, nodding in the direction of the two boys, who were now draped around the two local girls on the dance floor. “Looks like the testosterone twins are at it again!” he whispered. Gary was also watching the boys. “Can’t say I blame them. Those two babes are definitely a fifteen on a scale of ten!”
“That’s what’s bothering me,” Kevin replied. “Next thing we know it’ll be time for sowing wild oats, then what the hell do we do?”
Even as he spoke, the slow dance ended and as the other dancers were moving off the dance floor, the two girls whispered something to Jeff and Andrew and they all made their way outside onto the rear balcony for a breath of cool evening air.
Kevin looked quickly at Gary. “Here we go, maybe the chill will calm them down. I’ll go keep an eye on them, keep the intercom on and be ready to grab the car if they try and head out for some extra-curricular activity!”
Gary nodded. “Will do.”
Kevin moved quickly to the door leading to the rear balcony but as he looked through the window alongside the door, he could see that the balcony was already deserted. He rushed outside and easily followed the footprints in the snow of the two couples, down the steps and onto a flat, tree shrouded area at the rear of the bar. It was now snowing heavier and as he looked ahead he could hear laughter and when he increased his pace, he could just make out the foursome ahead and then it happened!