Here we go again, I need food. I emptied my pockets of the devil berries, wrapped them in leaves and put them at the upper corner of the shelter. I grabbed the fish spear and walked to the water’s edge and looked in both directions. To my left, about a football field away, I saw rocks jutting out into the water. I proceeded to the location and slowly walked on the slippery rocks as far out as I could.
The water was clear and there was still enough sunlight to see. I stood there motionless with my spear raised. Just when I was about to give up as darkness dropped its cloak, I saw movement in the water. It was not want I was wishing for, but a four-foot stingray swam slowly on the bottom. I thrust the spear toward the middle of its body with all the strength I had. To my astonishment the spear penetrated the fish’s body. It thrashed around violently. I knew that the stingray has one or two sharp, serrated spines, which are equipped with venom glands and covered with an integumentary sheath—a thin layer of skin. When attacked by would-be predators or stepped on by unwary humans, the animal lashes its tail. The spine and its barbs pierce the integumentary sheath as they lacerate the skin of the victim, allowing venom to enter the wound.
I was very careful as I moved it in the water with my spear, and walked back to shore on the slippery rocks. As I stepped on the sand from the rocks, I lifted the spear and swung it toward the shore with as much force as I could muster. The stingray’s body slipped off the tip of the spear and landed about five feet from the waters edge. I ran up to the still thrashing body and stabbed it multiple times in the head until it lay motionless.
Dropping to my knees, I gasped for breath. After a few minutes, I grabbed the stingray by one of the wings and dragged it to the shelter. The fire had reduced to embers so I threw another branch on it. With my penknife I cut the wings from the body of the stingray and removed the skin. After cutting the meat in chunks, I sharpened a stick and strung several of the chunks, and held it over the fire. I cooked it for about five minutes, and then gobbled all three chunks down. No tartar sauce, but what the hell.
I strung several more chunks and cooked them, and repeated the procedure until all of the stingray meat was well done. It was black charred on the outside, but tasted better than the bird meat. I decided to try the salting process again.
Just as I was stuffing the remaining meat into the gourds I heard chattering. Looking up, I saw Moses and Zippy were approaching me. They stopped about ten feet in front. Moses had apparently smelled the fish cooking. I decided to try a different approach rather than throwing the meat to them. I held out a large chunk, “Come on Moses. You know you can trust me.”
He slowly walked forward. “Come on, we’re friends.”
Zippy stayed in place as Moses came to me. He reached out his hand and grabbed the fish. I let it go. He shoved it in his mouth and reached out his hand again. I picked up another chunk and handed it to him. He scampered back and gave it to Zippy. She gobbled it up and grinned. They went back to the tree line, looked back at me, and jumped into the trees.
Now for sure I had two friends. I put more branches on the fire and lay down in the shelter.
I just hope nothing wild comes to visit tonight. I’m thoroughly exhausted.
Chapter 19
After the National Security Meeting with the President, the Controller went back to his office. He chuckled at the thought that his precise plan had worked perfectly. The two front-runners for the nomination were eliminated, and now his hand picked candidate had an open pathway to the Democratic Nomination with no discernable opposition from the Republicans. Their presumptive nominee, Senator Roberts, had been neutralized and the Republicans were in disarray. He always had a back up plan to the Master Plan and the elimination of the two powerful politicians were the key to his back up plan.
He picked up his brief case and walked out.
“Sylvia, I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day. Clear my calendar, I have pressing business. You know how to reach me,” he said to his assistant as he left.
He did not hear her whisper under her breath, while smiling, “Thank God you’re leaving, you slimy bastard.”
He did notice her smirk as he passed. I must get her replaced, he thought. I need a looker with nice breasts and great legs as my assistant. Sylvia’s frumpy.
The Controller had his personal driver drop him off at his ostentatious Condo. He went directly to the master bedroom and entered the closet. He moved a shoe rack and pulled back the carpet from the corner. He pushed in the combination to the lock, opened the floor safe, and picked up one of the five throw away phones. Closing the safe, he replaced the carpet, and put the shoe rack back on top. Time to execute the second phase of his Master Plan. The Chosen One, Aalim Mohammed Alam, a.k.a Tony Jones was awaiting orders.
He punched in the number, and was answered on the eight ring. “As-Salanu Alam,” was the reply, followed by Allahu Akbar.”
“Allahu Akbar,” replied the Controller. “English please.”
“How can I help you my Shias.”
“Imam Ali, It is time for phase two of the Operation. Yawm ad-Din. Let me talk to the Chosen One.”
A few moments passed until the high pitched voice of the Chosen One answered. “Allahu Akbar my Shias.”
“Allahu Akbar,” the Controller answered. “My son, the time has come to institute phase two of the Caliphate in America. I have been informed that the nuclear weapon has been secured from North Korea and should be in the USA via the Mexican border within ten days. Are you ready to perform your holy task?”
“Allah willing, yes Master,” was the reply.
“I want you to fly back to the States as soon as possible and take up residence in Washington, DC. Your Imam Ali will make the arrangements, and have someone meet you at the airport. An apartment is prearranged, and a mosque has been selected where you can recruit suicide bombers. You must recruit and activate a sleeper cell. I am depending on you to succeed, and Allah will take you directly to heaven when it’s over.”
“I am awaiting my martyrdom and my seventy-two virgins,” he replied breathlessly.
After hanging up with the Chosen One, the Controller had one additional call to make. He punched in the number of his international cohort whose code name was The Organizer. The Organizer was one of a very few who knew his true identify. The Controller was in charge of managing the downfall of the United States Government. The Organizer was recruiting ISIS sleeper cells in England, France and Germany. The ultimate goal was a world wide Caliphate. He assured the Organizer that his plot was well underway and on schedule.
The Controller disconnected the phone call, went to the laundry room, and pulled out a hammer. He wrapped the phone in a towel and reduced the phone to small pieces. The pieces would be discarded in the river tomorrow.
The self-assured terrorist went to the bar and poured two fingers of Gentleman Jack Bourbon. “Here’s to the death of the United States of America,” he grunted, and chuckled.
All the power brokers were now in place. The Russian Mafia, through their drug operations, was effectively providing the financing and assassinations.
After finishing his bourbon, he laid out his prayer rug. It was time for the evening prayer.
Chapter 20
The press continued to shout questions at Special Agent Stewart. He stood quietly until the yelling subsided, and then stepped to the microphone.
“The investigation in this case is ongoing. I’m going to make a statement and take no questions until we have more facts. I want to be transparent with you, however we need more time.”
He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. “Now for the facts. Senator Roberts’ wife Susan is dead. The cause of death is multiple stab wounds. The killing puncture was to the base of the neck in the back. We are in possession of the murder weapon. This case is officially classified as a homicide. Senator Roberts and his teenage daughter Lisa are missing. At this point it appears that they went overboard. We don’t know if it was voluntary or not.”
Several reporters shouted questions. He stood waiting for silence. Finally the hollering subsided.
“That’s all we have at this time.” He stepped away from the microphone amidst more questions barked by the press, and reentered the ship. Stewart made his way back to the Captain’s Quarters. He sat down, thought for a moment, and then dialed Agent Mitch Ratliff’s cell phone.
“Yes sir,” Ratliff answered.
“Mitch, please go by the Senator’s stateroom, get Dan Garcia, and come to the Captain’s Quarters. I need an update.”
“Be there in fifteen,” replied Ratliff.
In precisely fifteen minutes there was a knock on the door. Stewart opened it and Ratliff and Garcia walked in.
“Take a seat guys,” Stewart said. “Update me.”
Agent Ratliff took the lead. “The kitchen records showed that Steward Lurcy’s room service delivery was at 2:12 a.m. That would have placed him spotting the drunken Russian at about 2:16 or so. That is during the time period frame that the medical examiner estimated the time of death of Mrs. Roberts. We’re nearly finished questioning the crew with nothing else out of the ordinary being seen or heard by anyone. The crew is beginning to become irate about being kept on board. The Captain provided me with an electronic list of all the passengers. After examining it, there were four that appeared to be Russian names, two women and two men. The women were traveling together. Their names are Lada Bagnov and Marta Yeltsin. Lada is in a wheel chair, 85 years old, and required medical attention for a severe case of flu during the last day of the cruise. Marta is also in her 80’s. I talked to the doctor who treated the Ms. Bagnov. He said that the two women were a couple and had recently been married in Illinois. These elderly gay ladies are not reasonable suspects of anything. The two men are a different story. Their names are Vladimer Anosov and Alexie Bobr. Copies of their driver’s licenses were in the files. Anosov is a very tall and large man with a shaved head. Alexie is a short man with black hair. Both are in their mid-forties. I showed a copy of the licenses to the steward Don Lurcy. He positively identified Alexie Bobr as the intoxicated man he saw in the hall that night.”
“Had he seen Anosov at anytime during the cruise?” Stewart asked.
“No Sir,” replied Ratliff. “I called the Bureau and had the two names run through the system. Both of these guys are suspected Russian mafia. They have wrap sheets for multiple assaults, burglary, and rape of a minor. However, they were not convicted of any of these charges. Their defense team consisted of the best criminal attorneys in Chicago. These two are bad dudes. Because of the fact that passports and picture id’s were required for the cruise, they apparently had to travel using their real names. I’ve already had an APB put out on them to be picked up for questioning. Other than the steward seeing Alexie that night at the approximate time of Mrs. Roberts death, we have nothing else tying them to the case.”
“Coincidences like that don’t happen,” Stewart replied. “Good work Mitch. Anything else?”
“Not at this time Sir.”
“What about you, Dan?”
“We’ll have to wait until the autopsy is completed to determine if Mrs. Roberts ingested the mushrooms. Her body has been sent to the FBI medical facilities, and the autopsy should be conducted as soon as the body arrives. The particles that were under her fingernails appear to be skin. We need a DNA sample from the Senator to determine if it’s his. We should be able to obtain that from the wine glasses, which have been collected as evidence. His bathroom accessories, toothbrush and other items will provide us with sufficient DNA. The room has been completely fingerprinted, but it appears that there are only three sets, which probably are the Senator, his wife and daughter. That is yet to be verified. We also collected the bed sheets and pillowcases from the daughter’s room. Gerry, I personally detected a smell of chloroform on the bed pillow. That makes no sense. If the Senator dumped his unconscious daughter overboard and then jumped himself, there is not much chance that the bodies will ever be found. To be honest with you, this whole scenario about the Senator getting high and fighting with his wife about an affair, then killing her, and dumping the daughter overboard stinks to high heaven. However, all the physical evidence points to that conclusion. The note from the woman named Valerie and the naked pictures only have Mrs. Robert’s prints on them. If Roberts received them, it’s reasonable to assume that his prints would be on there too. Also why are Valerie’s prints not on the pictures or the letter? It looks like a frame job, but without the Senator’s body, or his daughters, it appears open and shut.”
Stewart shook his head. “Mitch, allow all the crew members to leave when the questioning is complete. Make sure you have the witnessed written statement of the Steward Lurcy, and how we can contact him later. Secure the crime scene and leave two agents to guard it. Tell the Captain, it’ll be at least forty-eight hours before we can release the cruise ship.” Agent Ratliff nodded.
“Dan, complete your work and call me immediately with any new information. Make sure all the evidence is cataloged and removed to the FBI Labs. I’m going to fight my way through the reporters, and go directly to the medical examiners office to get direct information on the autopsy before I call the Director.”
Agent Stewart hurriedly walked to the disembarking area. “Have the wolves quieted down?” he asked Agent Lewis.
“Well they stopped banging on the door when I threatened to arrest them Sir.”
“I’m leaving, open the door.”
Stewart stepped out and immediately was lambasted with questions shouted at him.
“Is Roberts a murderer? What about Governor Patton’s death? Is this a conspiracy? Why are you stonewalling us?”
The questions continued and camera’s rolled as Agent Stewart pushed his way through the mob. He said nothing, arrived at his car and shoved a reporter away from the car so he could open the door. He got in and drove slowly away, hoping not to cause an incident by running over a tenacious reporter.
When he cleared the crowd, Agent Stewart headed to the FBI medical facility where he knew the autopsy of Susan Roberts was already in progress. Dr. Makena Jary would be performing the autopsy. He knew she was the best in the business.
“I hope she can shed some light on this bullshit case,” he said aloud as he sped to medical center.
Chapter 21
When Macy arrived at Dubov’s estate, the 6 ft. 4 in. frame of Orin Sturgess was blocking the front door.
“Where in the hell have you been? Dubov is livid. You better get to him right away.”
Macy shoved the big man aside. “Get the hell out of my way. What I do is none of your damn business.”
She walked inside and went straight to Dubov’s study. He stood and glared at her as she entered. Macy went directly to him and kissed him passionately, pressing her body against him. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her breasts. “I’m sorry I’m a little late. I’ll make it up to you honey.”
Dubov pushed her away. “You will make it up to me, but right now we have a more urgent situation. Nevsky is in his condo in New York City. He wants the girl delivered to him tonight. Apparently he saw a picture of the girl on the news, and he’s got the hots for her. Nevsky loves the young ones. His sexual needs are insatiable, and he expects immediate actions on his orders. This young lady will be lucky to survive him.” Dubov cackled. “It’s a shame that I didn’t have the chance to break her in for him.”
“Baby, I’m all that you will ever need,” Macy purred.
“Get whatever you need, secure the girl, and go with Sturgess. Make sure that son of a bitch keeps his hands off her. Nevsky will blame me if her virginity is violated.”
“You can count on me Baby,” Macy replied. She wasn’t expecting the transfer to occur this soon. Plans had not been made, and she had not been provided with help from Stewart to get Lisa to a safe house.
Macy proceeded to the room where Lisa was being held. She unlocked the door and walked in. The young girl was asleep on the bed. Sh
e walked over and softly shook her shoulder.
Lisa opened her eyes. They were bloodshot from sobbing. “Please tell me what happened to my mother and father,” she whispered.
“Later,” Macy replied. “Now listen to me carefully. Do exactly what I say and don’t talk. I’m going to secure your hands with tape and we’re leaving. Both of us will be boarding the same plane that brought us here. Don’t worry about Sturgess. I’ll keep him away from you. I’m going to protect you. You must trust me.”
Lisa nodded. This lady had been kind to her and she had nothing else to cling to.
“I’ll be right back,” Macy said. She locked the door, and went to her room. She packed a small .32 caliber Walther pistol in her bag along with her cell phone. Hidden beneath her underwear was a thick envelope holding about five thousand dollars in cash. She stuffed it into the bag beside the pistol, grabbed a roll of duct tape from the closet, and went back to Lisa’s room.
“Hold out your hands,” she instructed the frightened young girl. Macy loosely taped her trembling hands together. “Remember don’t say a word to anyone even if they ask you a question. Do you understand?” Lisa nodded.
They walked together down the stairs where Dubov was talking to Sturgess. Macy couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they stopped talking when they saw her approaching.
“We’re ready to go,” she said.
“I want you back here as soon as the girl is delivered. You can do your making up,” he chuckled.
The identical black limo that had brought them to the mansion was waiting in the driveway. The driver was the same large bald black man. He grinned, revealing gold front teeth, when Macy opened the back door and pushed Lisa inside. “What’s your name?” she asked the huge man.
“Sonny, nice to see you again Miss Macy,” he said in a deep gravelly voice. He grinned again and didn’t try to hide his eyes staring at her breasts. Macy recognized that she might be able to use his interest in her in the future. She purposely leaned over allowing her blouse to gap open exposing cleavage. She grinned at Sonny as he virtually drooled.
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