Back From The Bardo

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Back From The Bardo Page 10

by James Cage


  I write this down for Danny.

  I ask, “What does this mean?”

  Danny answers, “Reading from right to left. The letters are: alif, Haa, nuun, raa, a space, sinn. The first word means ‘Beware.’ The second word is: alif, laam, miim, sinn, alif, a space, miim, ayn, which means ‘The Traveler.’ The third word starts with a j or jimm, raa, a space, thaa, waa, a space and ends in m, or mimm. I think it means ‘Germ.’ The fourth word’s spelling: ayn, nuun means ‘On.’ The fifth word is: alif, laam, which means ‘The.’ The last word spells, qaaf, Taa, alif, raa, ‘Train’.”

  Danny asks, “Where did you get this from?”

  I answer, “From an Arabic website on the Internet.”

  Danny says, “Your script is pretty damn good.”

  I say, “It is easy just to copy stuff.”

  I never tell Danny and Louis that I was once interested in comparative religions. I studied a little Arabic on my own. These words came to me in a dream. If I dreamed them up they could not possibly be grammatically correct.

  I change the subject and say, “On December 13, 2003 the former President of Iraqi was captured. Since you two soldiers are intelligence officers, how did the army finally capture Saddam Hussein?”

  Danny answers, “Someone ratted him out for money.”

  I say, “How come he was not shot immediately. His sons were killed in battle.”

  Danny says, “The politicians wanted him taken alive. They want a public trial to show the world the atrocities he committed.”

  I don’t say anything. I think, to take the President of Iraq alive is a mistake. I remember watching on television, the uprising in Romania in December, 1989. The insurgents quickly executed the socialist dictator Nicholae Ceausescu and his wife. That is the way to do it.

  The day after Christmas, Danny and Louis rent a burgundy, Ford Taurus and drive to Boston. Their business partner Mario flies to Logan Airport from Memphis. Danny, Louis and Mario will meet Seghar and Scotty at the Four Seasons Hotel in downtown Boston. The boys tell me they will return to New Jersey with the financial statements of Molay Biotech Incorporated. My job is to go over the statements and do the 2003 taxes. I already know the government contract is for two million dollars for year one, December, 2002 to December, 2003. And there is a new contract with the government for another two million dollars for year two, December, 2003 to December, 2004.

  After the trip to Boston, Danny and Louis drive back to New York City. They spend the New Year’s 2004 holiday, with the same young, women that they had Christmas and New Years with in 2002.

  Daniel’s girl is Italian. Her name is Jean. Jean is twenty-nine years old. She is tall, dark complexion, black hair and brown eyes. She is an immigration lawyer. Jean works in the Empire State building. Her office is down the hall from Susan’s law office. Jean graduated Fordham Law School, as did Susan. They are friends.

  Louis girl is named Karin. She is twenty-seven years old. Karin is half Irish and half Brazilian. She is tall, light brown hair and blue eyes. Karin has an MBA degree from New York University and works on Wall Street. She is a pharmaceutical industry analyst.

  I think these two guys and girls will be getting married one of these years.

  The date is January 5, 2004. Louis and Danny have just departed New Jersey. They are flying from McGuire Air Force Base to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. They will remain at Fort Bragg for thirty days. They are now first lieutenants. They have been in the army for more than two years. Their initial service commitment was for three years. They have signed for another three years hitch. After the month at Fort Bragg, Danny and Louis are going to return to Monterrey, California for more language training. For the first ten weeks, Louis will get advanced training in the Persian Language. Danny will study advanced Arabic for the same ten weeks. After a few days leave, they will go back to school. Danny will learn basic Persian and Louis will study basic Arabic.

  On Tuesday, the second of February, 2004, I receive an email from Seghar. It concerns the company Molay Biotech Incorporated.

  Seghar writes, “We are researching and developing antidotes to the toxins of sporulating bacteria, such as anthrax. We are attempting to develop vaccines for a variety of different influenza causing viruses. Since we are not allowed to do certain types of stem cell research in the United States, Molay Biotech will bring in a partner from the United Kingdom. It is a private company that does stem cell research. The name is Roslyn Genetics Limited of London.”

  Three days later Friday, February 5, 2004, I receive the 2003 financial statements for Molay, Biotech. The US government paid the company two million dollars. One and a half million goes directly for the operating expenses of the company. The break down is: $250,000 general operating expenses, such as heat, electricity, office expenses, office employee salaries, legal and accounting fees, and state S Corporation Taxes. There are no Federal Taxes because the company has not generated any profits. The other $1,250,000 goes into research and development. This includes the salaries of the bioengineers involved in the project.

  The $500,000 left over is distributed in the following manner. The breakdown is as follows: $100,000 Scotty, $100,000 Seghar, $100,000 Mario, $45,000 Daniel, $45,000 Louis and I receive $10,000. The company Molay Biotech Incorporated will retain $100,000. The distribution is one dollar per share to all the original shareholders of the company. All the shareholders, including me, will have to pay individual federal income tax. Scotty, Seghar, and Mario actively work in the company. During the past year, Seghar sent me some data. I did statistical analysis for the firm Molay Biotech. Therefore I will also be an active participant in the company. The distribution for us is taxed as earned income. Since Louis and Danny are in the service of the United States government, they are non-active participants in the company. Their distribution is capital gains. The documents also include a forward statement for the year 2004.

  The forward statement reads, “Roslyn Genetics LTD of London will invest $250,000 for a twenty percent share of the company. Roslyn Genetics LTD receives 100,000 shares at $1.00 par value.” Therefore there are now 500,000 shares distributed and outstanding in Molay Biotech Inc. My 10,000 shares are now two percent of the company.

  Daniel and Louis have done well this year financially. Their large apartments lease at $4000 per month. That brings in $96,000. They received $90,000 from Molay Biotech, which is their $100,000 investment back less the $10,000 I received. They earned another $125,000 from the Silicon Valley Software Company on the percentage of the software program sales. That equals $311,000 for the L&J Living Trust Fund. They made even more money from interest earned on their US Treasury Notes and the salary the army paid them.

  The L&J Living Trust Fund pays me $1000 per month as accountant and executor. Susan as attorney and executor receives the same $1000 each month.

  On Monday, the ninth of February, I visit Susan’s law office to take care of business. When we are done with the affairs of the L&J Trust, I have Susan help me with personal legal documents. Susan drafts a will for me. The will includes the house in New Jersey, a bank account and brokerage account. The assets total $750,000. My cousin Nicky is the beneficiary of the will.

  However, I have $1,500,000 in an overseas account. I had the name L&J Living Trust Fund added to the account. This way Danny and Louis automatically have the money in case anything happens to me. A will for this money is not necessary. Therefore all my assets are evenly divided between my cousin Nicky, Danny, and Louis. I tell Susan not to say anything to them until after I am dead.

  On June 30, 2004 Danny and Louis go overseas. They are to be based in Qatar. After completion of the language classes in California, they returned to North Carolina. Then after thirty days they departed for Qatar.

  Chapter 35

  Back In Time

  By the end of July, 2004, the nightmares return and I cannot sleep. My mind goes back to 1996
.

  On Monday, May 20, 1996 I receive an email in my CompuServe account. It is from the Welshman. His name is Alan Sinclair, who I met in Guatemala many years ago. He sends me a telephone number. I know from the area code, it is a California number. I phone.

  Alan Sinclair says, “Listen to the guy on this tape. Do you recognize the voice?”

  Even though it has been more than a dozen years, I say, “Yes I know the voice.”

  He says, “I will mail you a set of instructions.”

  I answer, “OK.”

  On Sunday, the twenty-sixth of May I get into my tan, 1995 Toyota Corolla, leave New Jersey and drive to Knoxville, Tennessee. The next day, Memorial Day, I drive through Nashville and Memphis to Conway, Arkansas. I have to stop because there are tornadoes in the area. Tuesday, I drive through the Ozark Mountains. The Ozarks are very pretty. There are wineries in this region of Arkansas. I rest in Fort Smith and drink a cup of coffee at McDonald’s. I continue the journey on Interstate 40. I pass Indian Reservations in Oklahoma. I get caught in some traffic in Oklahoma City, drive through Amarillo, Texas and stop in Santa Rosa, New Mexico.

  Wednesday morning I drive around the steep, curving, highway through Albuquerque. I pass the continental divide at Gallup and stop to eat a hamburger in Winslow, Arizona. I continue through mountains by Flagstaff and drive down to Kingman in the Mohave Desert. After a break, I head up Highway 93, drive over the Hoover Dam and finally arrive at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas. I am registered for a five nights stay in the hotel.

  Thursday Morning, May 30, 1996, I take a taxi to Fremont Street in downtown Las Vegas. I walk to the Greyhound Bus terminal and pay cash for an express bus ticket to Los Angeles. I have a false driver’s license in case the ticket agent asks for identification. She does ask. I carry a sports bag and backpack. I am wearing a Los Angeles Dodger’s baseball cap and sunglasses.

  Early Thursday evening, Alan Sinclair picks me up at the bus station in Los Angeles. He is driving a blue Ford van. The printing on the side says Manny’s Motor Parts. We drive to Marina Del Rey. We board a fair sized yacht. I say the length is seventy-five feet.

  Alan’s brother Paolo (Paul) is driving the boat. Marcos diRandi is also aboard. These are the guys I met, twenty-five years ago at the Sambalanga Ranch in Guatemala. Marcos and Paul are medium height and build, thin, dark hair and eyes, tanned skin. Marco’s age is early forties. The ages of Alan and Paul are middle forties. Paul is the younger brother. He is a physician and surgeon at a Kaiser Healthcare Center.

  After going out to sea for twenty minutes, we enter the galley of the yacht. Alan unzips two body bags. Inside are two clothed, dead, Caucasian men. The men are each six feet tall. I check the bodies. There are no bullet holes on either body. “I don’t see any bullet holes?” I question.

  Marcos says, “We shot them with a dart gun. We hit them both in the neck.” He shows me the small mark, near the right jugular vein on the neck of each victim.”

  Alan says, “The dart injects a poison made from: rattlesnake venom, lidocaine and a sedative hypnotic drug. When a victim is shot, he freezes for a second, stumbles another second or two, falls down and dies.” Then he says, “This is the body of the Surgeon. He is a real general surgeon. We got him last night walking from his office to his car in Huntington Beach.”

  I say, “Then this body is the Interrogator.”

  Alan says, “He is a former soldier. We got him in the parking lot of a diner, near the port in Long Beach.”

  Marcos says, “He had just eaten breakfast. It was early this morning and still dark outside when we hit him.”

  I ask, “Did you do anything with their cars?”

  “No,” Alan says. He continues, “The Surgeon’s car is in his office parking lot and the Interrogator’s car is parked in the diner’s lot. In a few days, someone will report these guys missing. The police will find the cars. There is no evidence of foul play. Both men disappeared.”

  I say, “I bet these guys have disappeared a number of times.”

  Marcos chimes in, “Yeah but this time it is a permanent disappearance for the both of them.”

  Everybody laughs.

  Alan, explains some more. “Twenty plus years ago, the Interrogator and the Surgeon were involved in a heroin drug smuggling cartel. The stuff came mostly from Afghanistan. It was processed in Italy and France and distributed throughout Europe. Some stuff was shipped through Rotterdam to the ports in New York and New Jersey.”

  Paul then says, “The Surgeon went to medical school in Bologna, Italy. Obviously, he got involved in the drug business to make money to help pay his expenses for school. The Interrogator was always involved in this business, as far as we know.”

  Alan completes the story, “Ten years ago, a new drug cartel was formed. During this period, the Interrogator has been importing both cocaine and heroin from Latin America. The Surgeon stayed involved, in the drug business as an investor. His skills as a doctor were also utilized when required.”

  I answer, “I am not really sure if these guys grabbed me in Venice years ago. However, I will take your word for it because the voice on the tape that you played for me was the voice of the Interrogator in Venice.”

  The boat engine has stopped. We are floating on the ocean. Paul is on the deck with a fishing pole. Alan, Marcos and I are below deck, working on the corpses. We remove all clothing, undergarments, shoes and socks. We cut all labels from the garments. We place all the clothes in one bag. The clothes will be burned in an incinerator on shore.

  Next, with a small axe, I chop off the hands and feet of both bodies. Alan uses a heavy saw and severs the heads of the dead guys. We place each separate head on a workbench. Marco’s manages to pull out the teeth with pliers and a screwdriver. He puts all the teeth in a cup. He goes top deck and throws the cup full of teeth overboard. Meanwhile, Alan places all hands and feet of both victims in one heavy duty plastic bag with a ten pounds weight.

  Now, Marcos, using the heavy saw and small axe, cuts the arms and legs off of the Surgeon’s torso. He places the arms and legs into four plastic bags and adds a five pounds weight to each bag. He does the exact same thing with the Interrogator’s arms and legs.

  Alan punctures the lobes of the lungs of each dead man’s torso. He places each torso, into the two original, individual body bags that were brought on board the yacht. He adds five pounds of weight to each bag.

  I say, “Is it really necessary to puncture the lungs?”

  Alan says, “Even though I add the weights, puncturing the lungs makes certain the torsos will not float to the top. All these bags will be ripped open by sharks. The body parts will be eaten within a few hours.”

  Marcos and I do the best we can to collect all the bloody, fatty tissue that encrust the plastic sheets that cover the room. We cut up the plastic sheets and place them with weights into two bags.

  Alan and Paul go into the captain’s cabin. Paul drives the boat out to sea. For the next hour we throw the body part bags all over the Pacific Ocean. When we return to the marina it is 9 PM and it is completely dark.

  Alan and I get into the Ford van and leave. Marcos and Paul remain to wash down the boat.

  Alan stops off at the location of Manny’s Motor Parts.

  I ask Alan, “Who is Manny?”

  Alan answers, “I’m Manny.”

  I say, “Nice place, Manny.”

  Alan laughs.

  We leave the van at the work site. We get into Alan’s car. He drives to a condominium in Newport Beach. We are too tired to go out for dinner.

  The next morning we have breakfast at Denny’s.

  I say, “Are you driving me back to Vegas this morning?”

  “Yes,” Alan answers. Then he says, “Do you like my car.”

  Alan Sinclair has a brand new 1996 Bentley Azure. He tells me the color is Ming Blue.

  I answer, “Yeah, this is some fan
cy machine.”

  He says, “We will be in Vegas in no time at all.”

  We take Highway 15 into Barstow and stop for a break.

  I ask him, “Where are your brother and Marcos? Are they meeting us in Vegas?”

  “No,” answers Alan. “They stayed at the Holiday Inn in Redondo Beach last night. Paul will drive Marcos back to Phoenix this morning. Just to be careful, the four of us should not be seen together.”

  I ask, “What kind of car is Paul driving?”

  He says, “A 1995 black, Cadillac STS.”

  I think, “These guys like cars.”

  During the ride to Las Vegas, Alan says, “Do you know why those guys grabbed you in Venice, years ago?”

  I answer, “I figure, they had me confused with someone else.”

  He tells me, “That narcotics cartel had fairly good intelligence. They received word that a hit man was coming in to exterminate one of the leaders of their group. They thought you were the hit guy.”

  I say, “I thought maybe I was being used as a decoy. Did the package I gave you have any value to it?”

  Alan answers, “You were not a decoy. I was the hit man. The document you gave me was the hit list. It contained the names and places of targets located throughout Europe. They got you and missed me.”

  Then I ask, “Were the targets hit?”

  Alan says, “All those targets were hit within the year.”

  I sing, “That’s all over now.”

  Alan and I have a good time in Vegas. We gamble a little and meet a couple of women from Seattle, Washington. One afternoon, Marcos calls the hotel. He asks me if I would be interested in visiting him in Phoenix.

  I answer, “Sure.”

  On Monday, the third of June, Alan decides to stay at Caesar’s another day. I pack my car. It has been safely parked at Caesar’s the last few days. I drive south on Highway 93, all the way to Phoenix. It is a slow, hot ride. When I arrive in Phoenix I stop at a motel near the airport. When I am settled in, I give Marcos a call.

 

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