Maurizio started to say something but a hand raised by Ian Carlo shut him up.
“Don’t even think about lying to me. I have undeniable proof and I do not stand by while a greedy bastard like Paolo, in whom I trusted, put at risk a very profitable business of which your family has gained riches and prestige. Tommy Lee doesn’t even know yet that your family was involved in the attack that ultimately failed, as he is alive but his father, like yours, is dead. Your brother and your father died under an execution sanctioned at a level that you don’t even know exists and it is the justice that we hand out when disloyalty and stupidity combine to jeopardize our enterprise.”
“I told Paolo it was a stupid idea and this is what I got for my trouble,” said Nicolo Jr., pointing at a black eye that was just turning yellow. “Now what?” he asked.
“It can be business as usual or you guys can choose to escalate this, but I guarantee it won’t go well and you lose your participation in the best business your family has had since your grandfather came from Calabria.”
“What about our people? They will want to do something, especially Jamie Packard; he was real close to Paolo.”
“Let me worry about the men,” said Maurizio, already taking the lead. “They have to understand this was business.”
“Fair enough,” said Ian Carlo. “A week from today we continue with the shipments. I don’t know how much you know of how we operate but this is how it works.”
Ian Carlo explained to the brothers how the operation is done, which they did know as each had been at a pick-up or two. They didn’t know that they owed Ian Carlo for the last shipment. Twenty million dollars, even.
“No problem,” said Maurizio. “Just say when and where and the money will be there.”
“Good, then if all goes well we will not be talking again until I call for a meeting…if at all.”
Ian Carlo’s next stop was Las Vegas. He had a tough job there. He had to tell Tommy that the score had been settled but that he, Tommy, could do no more.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Bombardier was delivered with the usual fanfare when a ticket as big as that is concluded. The proper faces of the owning corporation showed up and lapped at the free champagne and got the first and only free ride on their corporate jet.
Since it was time for the new member of The Board to meet the others, Francisco suggested that the meeting be held in Argentine Patagonia at the estancia of his friend Antonio Arquiza, far away and highly defendable. No easy approach without being seen. Major Allen concurred on the choice and saw with good eyes the many possibilities of extraction if the case should warrant it. San Martin de los Andes has a runway that accommodates large airliners and Bariloche is only a couple of hours’ drive, or minutes on an airplane. Chile is also an option, with an easy flight to Puerto Mont or a drive over the mountains to several secluded destinations. The only inconvenience was the long travel for the other members of The Board that would have lengthy travel times, but that’s what private jets are for and one thing was for sure, they could all afford it.
Plans had been made with sufficient time and now that the Bombardier was at hand the schedule was confirmed so Marco, Patricia, and Ernie, who came from NYC in the Bombardier, flew to Lima and picked up Francisco. They took with them only Luigi, Pete, and José; the bulk of the security group flew down a couple of days early in a NetJet 787 with full gear.
Argentina can be very accommodating to their richer citizens and Antonio Arquiza was certainly one of them. The Board owned an estancia almost as large as that of Ted Turner, who has a big chunk of Patagonia. They had bought it when undermining Meredith on that deal had been necessary. Now the land was administered by Arquiza’s land manager and was being regenerated and reforested. A full water management program was in development seconded by experts from Utah, Idaho and New Mexico whose experience could match with a terrain like Patagonia.
The members of The Board arrived in Argentina via Buenos Aires and Bariloche because San Martin did not offer customs and immigration services. Only the Bombardier flew directly to San Martin, courtesy of the Argentinean government who waived these procedures. The drive from the airport to the estancia was about an hour and most of the time it was within land owned by their host or administered by him. Three checkpoints were encountered and serious looking gauchos armed with submachine guns or assault rifles inspected each vehicle with professional thoroughness. At one point Marco saw a flash from a neighboring hill and realized that snipers were also covering the approach. This meeting was not going to be interrupted. He knew that even the airspace was being carefully monitored by the military radar in San Martin and one high in the Andes that covered the frontier with Chile; remnants of a feud that still had both nations sniping at each other. Six drones hovered over and streamed their data to a control center. By six that evening all the members of The Board had arrived and were handsomely accommodated in the ample guest quarters of the estancia while the main house had been reserved for Marco, Patricia, Francisco, and Ernie. The meeting was set for the next morning after breakfast. The evening meal was informal and some of the guests were tired and preferred a small meal delivered to their rooms. That same night anyone that didn’t already know now understood that Marco and Patricia had, since their last ill-fated meeting, become a couple.
Enrico Testa had been traveling under his own name and had reserved a room at the Sarasota Ritz-Carlton for three nights. He checked in with the parish priest at St. Martha’s Catholic Church and requested mass privileges that were immediately granted. He would say a daily mass at 6:00 a.m. every day while he was in the area. He declined the offer of a room at the residence as he needed privacy. He rented a Mercedes 300E because he did not want to look out of place when he did surveillance around Marco Carducci’s Florida residence. As it turned out the house, which was heavily guarded, was inaccessible from land. No problem; the next morning he rented a jet ski from Siesta Rentals and approached the house from the ocean side. The second floor was shuttered which indicated no one was in residence. He would have to review his plans. His contact in NYC had confirmed that Carducci was not in residence at the Third Avenue house and the Roslyn Estate did not appear on his radar as the principal resident of that home was Ian Carlo de la Rosa and his family. Monsignor’s plans then changed completely when he reported to the cardinal and was told to fly to Chicago because his services were needed there and he would be instructed upon arrival.
Amiable Manning had traced the elusive monsignor to his Vatican office and was told flatly that they did not divulge the whereabouts of Vatican personnel but that he could leave a message and be assured that it would reach Monsignor Testa. He will return your call soon, he was told. He also got copies of Joao Pernambuco’s fingerprints, which did not match those registered for Enrico Testa, but today’s biometrics were very accurate comparing facial features with more than one set of parameters, computer generated facial maps making the margin of error less than one in a million. The forensics lab in Chicago where the traces of D-Turbocurarine had been detected also established that it was synthesized somewhere in Eastern Europe, probably at the University of Minsk. It had been powered a thousand fold and would kill in minutes with minimum dosage.
Amiable was buried in a mountain of work but his mind always went back to the murder of Ana Meredith. He could not shake the memory of the nonagenarian hanging from the rafters, her little woolen night gown soiled and her parchment-like skin waxed in death. Unfortunately his time was limited; the department had other priorities and the case’s progress was slow as a tortoise on a cold day.
Dupree had spent ten days of his precious time trying to make something of Edward Meredith, but the man’s mother had extracted with poisonous criticism every ounce of self-esteem he ever possessed. Dupree needed to build him up even if it was only to show enough character to be his Pinocchio. He needed Edward to transmit and execute Dupree’s orders with enough backbone so the heads of division would cooperate and foll
ow orders. Thus His Eminence needed to set a precedent and back Edward, putting the fear of God into these unruly but very capable executives. He helped Edward determine who the leader and chief undermining agent was among the heads of divisions and others who, while not being so high up the corporate ladder, had strategic positions they were using to extort the company. Once he had established who the culprits were, cardinal Dupree summoned Enrico Testa to Chicago. Meredith would have to be seen as someone ruthless and that was not easy. The man was a pussy. There was so much at stake. The Catholic Church needed the attention of the world and if there was one thing that made people listen was their stomach. Meredith could in time, if he followed the cardinal’s directives, make the world, or at least a big part of it, hungry, and only the Catholic Church would be there to feed them.
Congressman Terrence Taylor had been smoldering with indignation and political poverty since Mason had been less than supportive in obtaining funds for his re-election campaign. The senator had been trying to mend bridges with Joseph Delany Jr., whose star was rising with success after success in ever ascending posts within the FBI. Again that bastard had crossed Terry’s plans. He had married that ugly little social climbing shit of his sister because Senator Joseph Delany Sr. had promised him a brilliant political career, rising from District Attorney in a Texas backwater to Congressman for that state. He had hardly tasted the good life in DC when the senator had died and he had attached himself to his intellectual killer, Archibald Mason, now to be neglected as soon as the senator had compromised him in the aftermath of the murders; all for nothing. It was time to get rid of his brother-in-law because without him Marla would have no one but him and then she would have to loosen the purse straps if she wanted to continue being invited to the party circuit at Embassy Row. He had to get rid of Delany, but how?
When Testa arrived in Chicago a message from his office awaited him; a missive that also had been received by Cardinal Dupree and which they were discussing.
“This police officer, Amiable Manning, I believe his name is, has to be looking for you in relation to Ana Meredith. I can see no other connection,” said the cardinal.
“True, I have no other connection to Kansas City other than my visit to Ms. Meredith. Somehow this policeman has connected the dots. Probably my rental car; they always keep a copy of the driver’s license and someone saw me leave the premises. It was a very challenging task. There were security guards and CCTV which I’m sure I eluded, but God only knows what else there might have been.”
“I can only think that you have been identified using facial recognition software. When you enter a US airport you are on camera from the instant you leave the airplane and your face is systematically placed under the scrutiny of very sophisticated biometrics programs. If there is a flag for the corresponding facial map, the authorities are advised. In some cases the priority is high, like with those subject to a no-fly order or known terrorists or those on the top FBI wanted list. I don’t think you fit any of the above, but obviously Mr. Manning has been advised of the match to the alias you were using.”
“I was using the Pernambuco identity with corresponding fingerprints but the facial features are extremely hard to alter, especially the distance between the eyes and their location in the facial quadrant. What do you suggest we do? This could complicate things a lot.”
“I think we must find out what Mr. Manning knows and who he has told about you. Let us use some of our friends in DC and I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something. For the moment I suggest you rest and see if you can alter your image in some significant way.”
Within minutes the cardinal was talking to a faithful collaborator in the DOJ, who immediately followed up on the request, and two hours later the cardinal had a full report on the investigation. It was clear how a hunch by the detective had set him on the right path and how luck had played an important hand in the results which were putting Testa at risk. Among other things there was a repeated request to the FBI for help but it had not progressed. Dupree waited until Testa called his suite asking for information. He invited him over to discuss it.
“Misfortune would have it that a gardener saw you leaving the Meredith home and described the vehicle to the police. The detective guessed it might be a rental and you, or rather Mr. Pernambuco, was identified by the gardener from the photo on the driver’s license. Further inquiries brought forth another witness, an attendant from a pharmacy where you bought some things. Then a flight attendant, wife of a policeman, recognized you, and by your seat number the passport photo of your latest identity was obtained so that the individuals on the two IDs matched. Apparently Manning requested ICE for a biometrics tag and that brought up a flag when you came in through Miami. Lucky for you the FBI has not answered the repeated requests by Manning for help. No further progress was reported. I think you are safe for now because the request for biometric ID was limited to immigration and has not gone viral to all points. You might have been traced as far as Chicago, but not to this hotel. I suggest you make some radical changes to your appearance because there is God’s work to do and mobility is essential.”
“I can take care of that but I will need your help in getting the necessary elements to do so.”
“No problem, tell me what you want and I’ll get it to you as soon as possible. In the meantime we need to go over some tasks that have to be accomplished promptly and efficiently. Let us hope these tasks prove to be less challenging than Mr. Carducci has been so far.”
The barb in the cardinal’s comment did not go unnoticed by Testa, who lowered his head.
“Here is a list of three individuals who have to be neutralized in such manner that a message is sent to all their colleagues in the Meredith organization, making it clear to them that Mr. Edward Meredith is the undisputable boss. Two of them are in Chicago and one is in New Orleans. This one, Alfredo Rojas, is the head of trading operations for the Meredith organization. He manages traders all over the world and sustains commodity prices for items dear to Meredith. He needs to be terminated publicly and rather harshly. The other two must not die; but must be adjusted in such way that they never act against the will of Mr. Meredith.”
“It will be done as you wish. I will need a new identity. I have a contact for this in NYC but not in Chicago. I will have to go there and return in a couple of days. In the meantime I will require a few credit cards with sufficient funds and if possible about $20,000 in cash. I will give you a name for the credit cards no later than this evening.”
“We will have these for you upon your return. We will stay in Chicago for a meeting with the International Banking Association that will take place this weekend. May God be with you, my son,” said the cardinal, rising from his seat. He extended his hand to Testa, who knelt before him and kissed the ring.
“And with your spirit,” answered Testa.
Two days later Testa was back at the hotel; he checked in under his new identity. The Meredith organization had booked the suite in the name of Mr. Eliot Pix. The man that claimed the room was unforgettable. The whole left side of his face, from the chin to above the ear, was covered in dreadful burn scars; so was his left hand; he walked with a limp and the aid of a rather elegant ebony cane with a silver and gold handle. His left eye was covered by a patch that was held in place by a leather cord as black as the patch. The remaining brown hair was well groomed and salted with silver. His suit was a fitted Hermenegildo Zegna of impeccable cut. The dark pinstripe contrasted nicely with a white shirt and a school tie that claimed he had studied at Harvard. His bags were taken up to the suite and he followed shortly but stopped first at Dupree’s suite. Cardinal Dupree did not recognize the man before him and asked politely if the gentleman had not mistaken his room or floor. It took a crooked smile and a few words before the Cardinal, astonished, let Testa in.
“I don’t think your mother would recognize you,” said the Cardinal by way of salutation.
“Neither will any biometrics software or finge
rprint scanner. Before the day is over my identity can be confirmed in Google, the Motor Vehicle Bureau of NYC, and FGA, was a private contractor for security services in Afghanistan. Eliot Pix is a real identity of a mercenary from Dillon, Montana, who died in a suicide blast near Kabul but whose death was never recorded. He had no close family and his general description fits me to a tee. This disguise is only for travel. Mr. Eliot will never be seen by any of the sanctioned individuals or any possible witnesses. I have a couple of additional identities but they are only driver’s licenses and a couple of pre-paid credit cards, and they will do in a pinch.”
“You have outdone yourself, Enrico, and may it be for the greater glory of God. I have here all you requested; 20,000 in US dollars, fifties and hundreds. I’ve added 5,000 in Euros, ten Є500 bills, just for use in an emergency. There are five credit cards in the name of Eliot Pix with funds up to $100,000, and these can be refurbished if needed. Also I have for you a small computer and a tablet. They will be necessary to read the information on this flash drive as both are encoded. You must scan your index fingerprint when you first power up each one and then no one will be able to read this except you. It contains all the information you need on each individual and the specific requirements that we need from each.”
“How much time do I have for this?”
“Do this as soon as possible but without jeopardizing the mission because of haste. We need Edward Meredith acting decidedly and with authority. These sanctions will make it possible.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Carducci Convergence Page 23