by Sam Wilson
“You were right”
“About what?”
“What they wanted”
“I’m listening”
“They don’t just want you out of the way but rather to ruin you”
“Have you found out who is really behind it?”
“No, not yet”
“I have!”
Scalia took a sip from his orange juice; they were out of lemonade so he opted for a freshly squeezed orange juice instead, Pier continued.
“ Charles Appleton, we meet a few years before I started Trans Atlantic Constructions, he considered himself my best friend but to me he was a means to an end”
“So you used him”
“Yes I did, I will not do the same now but at the time I was young and learned from people that most will regard as smart but heartless… I learned and didn’t past it on, that way I was always on top, it was smart at the time, I thought… Anyway I caused him a lot of pain… I couldn’t understand the blind… it was easy because he trusted me. Simple as that”
“Simple as that” Scalia repeated
“That’s right, it may not be an easy task… gaining his trust now… but it can be done, Scalia I want you to bring them the files”
“Which one?”
“The one I have prepared for occasions like this”
Scalia smiled and shook his head then said
“Is this a game you really want to play? This Charles is pretty influential, not to mention wealthy beyond believe… it’s like he crept into everything for one purpose… to see you burn, slowly… I might add”
“So what are you saying? That you are scared?”
“I think you know the answer to that”
Pier chuckled then his chest heaved with his hand planted against it, as if holding it in place, his face could not hide his torment.
“I wish I was still young,” He said under his breath
“Catch your breath Pier” Scalia said almost standing up
“Sit down son, it’s ok. My past has come back to bite me in the ass at my weakest”
“I can promise you this much, we will be standing tall at the end of this story”
Pier nodded not agreeing but not necessarily disagreeing neither; he managed to sit upright, looked Scalia in the eye.
“Katherine, she will be standing tall at the end… that means doing everything in our power to see that this chapter of our life end disastrously with my good friend Charles Appleton”
“Ok, Pier”
“The files in question are in three safes… section G at our archive building, here are the keys”
The keys were in a Cartier watch box, as if giving Scalia a gift; he took this precaution because you never know who is watching. The Cartier watch Scalia took out and wore on his right wrist, they shook hands for the show.
“Thank you Pier”
Even though it was for show, Scalier was still grateful.
“Don’t let me down Scalia”
“You belt”
They finished their juice and coffee then headed back to the office. A man wearing a grey-stripped suit and black framed medical glasses paid his bill and exited the restaurant a minute or two behind Scalia and Pier, he crossed the street to an opposite office building, got into the lift and ascended to the sixteenth floor, he knocked on the door lapelled PAT & OCEAN ACCOUNTING. The office has a waiting area with a small couch and a desk and the other room has two mahogany office desks. They specialize in
• Accountancy Services to Small and Medium Enterprises
• External Audit
• Business Assurance
• Tax Services
• Freelancers
• Corporate Services
• Forensic Accountancy
• B&S Financial Management
And they also specialize in professional else dropping and for the right price put an end to a man’s life. The man with the black-framed glasses took a sit opposite a mirror image, then fished and produced a device from his inner jacket pocket. The tiny iPod looking device has a metallic shinning plate like a dish in front of it, his partner who bears an uncanny resemblance unplugged his head set and played it load, after listening for ten minutes the man in grey suit and glasses said.
“We have to make copies”
The drive to the rendezvous was uneventful; handing the documents over resulted in a bloodbath where everyone except Scalia died. The details are still lost in the cloud but if his memory serves him right, what he saw made his imagination bounce back to his youth, characters from fairytale story told to stimulate children’s imaginations. Still what he saw was no fairytale and what he woke up to was no work of a character that can wile a weapon with the speed of light and the strike power of a hundred men. He closed his eyes trying to remember what the dark figure looked exactly like, he, it most have been a he or could it have been a she?
He received the calling card like the others, through the mail, no return address. This time the meeting wasn’t in a filthy unpopulated café but Northern Trust Bank at 50 S La Salle St, Chicago, IL 60603-1003, he was already in the bank, handed over the files by placing it in a safety deposit box and walked past Michael Thomas on his way into the vault containing the safety deposit boxes. He was ready to leave half an hour before closing time when it was stormed by armed men, as this things always go, they screamed, everyone in the bank lye on the floor with their hands on their heads and they demanded money, procedure really. A shot rang out killing one of the six robbers, it appeared to have originated from behind the cashier’s counter, and the leader, who is wearing a black leather mask, did not hesitate in cutting the blond cashier down with a shower of lead. Then another shot, it caught the one wearing a brownish panty holes mask in the stomach, he fired uncontrollably at the hostages lying on the floor killing four of them. He cried out in pain and fell to the floor still shooting, the next bullet from the unknown death dealer silenced him; the cops tried contacting the robbers, first the police commander’s voice bummed over the megaphone then the bank’s telephones. It rang several times before the leader emerged from his hiding place, picked up, and started accusing the cops of trying to kill them; he threatened them with the lives of the hostages if they did not call off their sniper, they denied having anyone in the building but it fell on deaf ears. The atmosphere was thick with fear then all hell broke loss, they started shooting towards the high ceiling asking no one in particular “What is that?” “Did you see it?” over and over till they were all lying down dead but so were the hostages. As he had observed when the sounds from the machine guns died down and it felt safe to raise his head to look around, to his shock he was turned around and knocked out with a blow from the butt of a riffle. Michael Thomas was found shot in the head at a point blank range in the bank’s vault and had nothing on him, as he had learned from the detective sitting on a stool opposite his hospital bed. As he thought more about it, the robbery seems to him like a staged affair to prevent the exchange of the files or something else entirely. The police also said about two million was stolen in small bills; they are of cause looking for the seventh man who had obviously double-crossed his partners. He couldn’t describe what he had seen, no one will believe him so he told them what they will likely believe, he saw a figure dressed in black and black goggles before he was knocked out. The other detective who had been silently standing by the door made his feelings known after he ended telling his tale, no doubt playing the bad cop.
“As my partner Joe Matthew had said, I’m Chris Sullivan… You are a very lucky man Mr. Scalia, I’m not sure I believe your story but I’m sure we will find out soon enough, this is my card, call us when you remember something”
Scalia took the card from the detective and thanked him and his partner, they had nothing on him, and he knew it, maybe detective Sullivan is a paranoid type but is it all cops? The video feed from the cameras will clear him if there is any doubt, except if the mystery man removed the tapes after killing the secur
ity personal monitoring the CCTV cameras “I would” he thought out loud, he couldn’t help but admire the mystery man for a job well executed so to speak or in his case so to think.
The sixth crash made a record of fine china been thrown against a wall and into the fireplace, not in the spirit of celebration but to blow off steam. “What does this mean” The question thundered out of Pier’s mouth towards poor Scalia who had minutes before against doctor’s orders discharged himself from the hospital. The awful smell of Porcelain and other raw material engulfed the large living room as they spoke; the dark smoke erupted through the chimney onto the atmosphere forming a cloud and a spectacle in the normally serene gated neighborhood Jean pier calls home. Porta Caeli literally translated as Gate of heaven is the Billionaire row of Chicago, located west, just outside of the city is a place where people with more than enough can without fear of unforeseen events do whatever with the feeling of absolute safety. That feeling of safety most have changed to panic when the news of the smoke purring out of pier’s chimney spread like wide fire, firemen in their bright red emergency vehicle raced to Pier’s compound with siren blazing. Pier, Scalia and Miss Julia Biel, the young brunette lead caretaker of the house waited for them by the front door. Pier apologized explaining that plates where thrown in the fire place as a game him and Scalia played at times in celebratory mood. That this time, they over did it and in the future wouldn’t dare thrown it in the fireplace again. The firemen bought the story with skepticism, checked the house as procedure dictated and left with Pier’s gratitude.
With the day’s interesting development, Charles Appleton wasn’t mourning the unfortunate lose of his friend and confidante, though it is a big lose and he will be missed. But his death will not be in vain and he will be replaced with regret, what happened can’t be changed, so, May it be, he added in his head. The files being taken and Scalia being the only one to survive such a deadly attack is extremely interesting. Question, is Scalia the wanted seventh heister? There was someone else, he concluded. Pier has surprises up his old sleeve or does he? “Appleton laugh out loud, I’m impressed” he said to him. The door to his immaculately, serene and luxurious office slowly opened, his beautiful P.A entered closing the door behind her.
“He is here,” she announced standing between the two chairs and in front of the specially designed Microsoft mahogany surface table.
“Show him in”
And in walked the black-framed glass accountant.
Pier sat with Scalia in his luxurious study and listen to him explain in vivid detail what happened at the bank, he listened and stayed still, frozen in his thoughts for a long while before resuming his questioning, his angered seemed to have vanished and he was back to his old calculating self trying to make sense of things.
“The event seems out of character for Appleton” Pier concluded
“Surely he’s not who he uses to be, a lot of things he has done does proof that he is a changed men”
“Yes but why have your trusted right hand man killed and in such a way then take what he’s bringing to you anyway, it doesn’t make sense… Why did he let you live?” Pier asked staring straight at Scalia
“I don’t know, maybe it’s a sick game he’s playing, maybe there is a third player. Waiting to find out is not a good ideal”
“Sure is not, I need to sit down with him, have a word,” Pier said as if thinking out loud
“He will probably deny it…”
Pier cut Scalia off before he could finish
“I seriously doubt it, if it was him, he will admit it to me just to spite me”
“Pier I think you need to think this through,” Scalia said cautioning him
“Set up the meet… Somewhere we have control”
“Ok, Trump Towers?”
“Perfect”
Charles dropped the receiver of the stylish but clunky old fashion phone and mouthed the words “close the door” to his long time P.A.
Mrs. Parsley has worked or radar been with Charles for twelve years and is the only one that he truly confines in. She knows nearly all of his secrets and in all the years of being his trusted P.A and confidant, she also became his occasional lover. She took a sit opposite him, with a look demanded to know what is troubling or amusing him.
“He wants to meet me,” he said outright
“Who and When…” she asked
“Pier and Day after tomorrow…”
“Why day after tomorrow”
“An anniversary…” he stopped and smiled
Mrs. Parsley held her eyes and ears open with curiosity
“Anniversary of what?”
“A day he supposedly helped me fend of… “ He stopped again
“It’s hard for you, I understand”
“That day was the first of many, I was naive and trusting” he said blanked face.
“Where does he want to meet”?
“The meet is at Trump international, somewhere he feels save”
“What are you going to do”?
“Meet him” He added with a cheeky smile
Almost as famous as it owner, the sixteen restaurant was alive with happy faces, quiet chatters, laughter, charming fake tans and teethes.
Charles was escorted to Pier’s booth; He got up and shook Charles’s hand.
“I thought you had changed your mind” Pier said, clearly happy to see Charles.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world” Charles exclaimed
“This may sound funny but I’m glad to see you”
“It does sound funny, never the less, I’m happy to see you too”
A waiter interrupted, to both their relief. They ordered and the waiter walked off with a bounce in his step.
“No more Johnny Walker?” Pier teased
“Not after the 30th, have to keep a clear head” he replied
“I see, some of us have moved on from that day,” Pier said in a serious tone of voice
“Yes we have moved on, is that why you called this meeting on this day?” Charles asked sarcastically.
The waiter returned with their orders, two glasses of mineral water.
“I know what you want, if I where you, I will surely want to do the same. But it’s time to stop?
“What I want? What are you talking about”?
“Let’s stop playing games, we are too old for it. This is my way of saying I’m sorry for whatever I did, we both did things we regret and in my case, treating you like I did was inexcusable. My mistake, if I could go back I will undo everything, you, and my sweat wife. I’m sorry, there, I have said it” Pier took a sip of his water and watched Charles’s reaction.
“You know what Pier, I forgave you a long time ago. Life was unkind for a while there but my experience thought me to survive… learn to trust the right people and I thank you for that. But I can’t stop what has already begun, it is not able you”
“It is not able me. Care to elaborate”
“It about Katharine, she is not yours”
The news hit Pier like a bomb, he stayed silent staring at Charles, then he wanted to reach over and choke the life out of him. Charles continued
“She is mine, good news is, at the bank she was trying to protect you and your company, but I promise no one will ever find out that she was the one. Bad news is, depending on how you take it, Trans Atlantic is part of Globe and Technologies, and we are planning on breaking it up and then have a yard sell”
Pier smiled, emptied his glass of water and said
“That was amusing but I do not believe you”
“Last night Globe and Technologies finally acquired the controlling shares of Trans Atlantic from my darling daughter Katherine the second who owned it and by the way she knows you caused her mother’s death, you couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving you for Paul Mariette, Scalia’s father. He also knows this fact, so my friend like the saying goes; this is the end of the road. Hope you enjoyed that water, I know it is your last.
Pier was dying as he listened to Charles, the news prompted a sudden heart attack aided by what else the water was laced with, and Charles enjoyed watching the show. He placed a 60s vintage hat on Pier’s head covering his face and walked to Scalia, who is waiting by the entries and announced.
“It was easier than I thought, the accountant’s work was exceptional, and it had perfect timing”
Scalia smiled but had nothing to say, Charles saw his pain and do not blame him even though pier had his father killed, he was good to him and practically raised him as his own, so the fact that Scalia has lost a father figure is not lost on him.
“You are going to be fine, I will come by the office tomorrow morning and sign the papers giving you and Katherine equal control of the company. Now if you do not mind I have a daughter to console”
4
DEAD GHOST
100
Three people in the Government, two at the Pentagon and one at the Senate knows about their existence, Captain Caxander Wellington is a commander of a black ops unit capable of anything and everything. Every four to eight years after a new commander in chief is elected, following meetings with various security agencies and the senate security committees, a sealed file on his desk debriefs the president about this Elite force, their use, when and how they are activated, and then he arranges a meeting with the right party for further discussions. The members of this force are 6 in number and known to those who know them as G.H.O.S.T, they do not exist period. Their mission is to protect American lives and interest at all cost, to do so they have to create or prevent the extremes. Most times their accomplishments remains covert and other times the unexplained event is blamed on or the credit taken by some radical person or group, their skills makes them invincible and their anonymity makes them expendable.