Guarding His Desires (Passionate Security Book 2)

by Jaylen Florian

  "Connect the dots," Zachary repeats.

  "I am trying, but I keep thinking of facts to add," Aleksey complains. "A New York couple, real estate tycoons who dabbled in mysticism, reportedly gifted Harold Lloyd and his wife, an accomplished actress named Mildred Davis, a so-called magic wand."

  "Magic?" Gustavo asks.

  "Who were the couple from New York?" Zachary asks.

  "Their identity remains secret and part of the mystery of the wand," Aleksey answers. "Clearly, they had to be from one of the East Coast's most wealthy families and frequent, perhaps fanatic, visitors to the lavish festivals and parties at Greenacres. The jewels and precious metals, even then, were deemed priceless. You both can guess the striking feature. The violet eyes. Instead of rubies, the cobra was created with amethyst eyes. Amethyst with a deliberately deep purple hue."

  "Why violet eyes?" Gustavo asks.

  "Clairvoyance. The gift was not just a compilation of treasure. It was intended as a present to safeguard the Lloyds, their children, their grand estate, and their legacy. Amethyst is considered by some to be an especially spiritual stone. The legend is that Harold Lloyd and Mildred Davis believed this too."

  "Did they sell the wand?" Zachary asks.

  "No, they never did," Aleksey answers. "According to the tale, the wand bestowed the gift of foresight. Clairvoyance. But the truth it revealed, in a spiritual garden ceremony adjacent to the waterfall, was laden with tragedy. Earthquakes shattering parts of the home, fires destroying their film vault, the stock market crash, and the end of the fairy tale as the estate got chopped into pieces. Distraught by knowing too much, and fearing it would interfere with their ability to enjoy their present lives, the Hollywood legends donated the wand to the citizens of the United States, essentially, by contributing it to The Smithsonian Institute."

  "Did those tragedies come to pass?" Gustavo asks.

  "Yes, whether a year or decades later, all of the tragedies eventually came to pass."

  "If Gustavo's wand is from The Smithsonian," Zachary says, "shouldn't there be a photographic record of it? News reports of it missing? Has anything ever been stolen from The Smithsonian?"

  "Aha," Aleksey cheers, "the limbo is part of the legend. In transit to The District of Columbia, the wand and the small army of security guards entrusted with it, vanished from the train near the Utah and Colorado border. Some reports swear the disappearances occurred shortly after the train left Salt Lake City, while others believe the guards absconded with the treasure just before arriving at the Denver station."

  "Where did the cobra turn up after that?" Zachary asks.

  "It hasn't," Aleksey answers. "Historians and treasure hunters have searched the Rocky Mountains for any sign of it or the missing guards, all to no avail. That is why the common knowledge, or common belief, is that the cobra really does not exist."

  "But here it is," Gustavo says. "Right with us. Missing and tumbling around with who knows what type of characters for almost one hundred years. So is there a Wanda in the story? A donor, a child, a relative, or anyone else named Wanda?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "Aleksey, based on everything, how certain are you that Gustavo's wand is the long lost and fabled Clairvoyant Serpent?" Zachary asks.

  "A sliver short of complete certainty. I have only a mere sliver of doubt."

  27

  Disturbance

  Curled up on the love seat under a cotton blanket, a few minutes after 3 o'clock in the morning, Gustavo listens to the whirring fan above him in the parlor. It is ricketier than it should be, bobbing as it spins, ready to drop from the ceiling and slice through anyone in its path. Nonetheless, it blocks out noises inside and outside of the hotel room, from the traffic to the sounds of Zachary and Aleksey breathing in the beds adjacent to him.

  Zachary is in the bed closest to Gustavo, asleep in the fetal position. His sheet covers his body, up to his chin, and he faces toward Gustavo with closed eyes. Gustavo ponders the paradox of such a powerful man dozing in such a shielded manner. He contemplates that Zachary is likely a person who avoids, and perhaps detests, vulnerability. In light of what he has learned, this thought makes sense. Unfortunately, Gustavo considers, a fear of vulnerability can weaken a person.

  Relaxing and steadying his mind, in harmony with the revolving fan, Gustavo attempts to identify Zachary's aura. His dominant color, a deep red, bristles with spikes of black and grey. Zachary's energy, at least in this moment while he sleeps, reminds Gustavo of lava. It is mighty, and it feels dangerous, yet it does not spew in a volcanic burst.

  Gustavo senses a change in Zachary's energy. An alertness. Gustavo notices that Zachary's eyes are open and looking right at him. The men stare at each other in the dark, neither looking away or changing their facial expressions.

  A muffled knock on the door shatters their trances.

  Aleksey instantly springs out of his bed with his handgun. While keeping his eyes on the door of the suite, he gesticulates a sweeping motion of his arm toward Zachary and Gustavo, directing them to back out of range. Copying Zachary, Gustavo immediately grabs his phone and wallet and puts on his clothes and shoes. Zachary holds his index finger in front of his lips toward Gustavo with the universal gesture for complete silence.

  With stealthy movements, Aleksey looks through the peephole. It is blocked. Aleksey races back into the room and signals Zachary toward the balcony.

  Louder this time, the knock persists.

  Zachary yanks Gustavo's duffel bag out from under his bed, hands it to Gustavo, and ushers him toward the balcony.

  "Do not disturb," Aleksey says, speaking toward the door. "Can't you see our sign hanging on the doorknob?"

  "I am sorry, sir, for this inconvenience," a man's voice responds from behind the door. "We have an urgent delivery for your occupant."

  Zachary steps over the balcony railing, hangs from the lowest bar, sets his footing on the top of the railing for the floor below, and agilely climbs downward. When he reaches the ground, lit by the nearby swimming pool area, four stories below, he motions his arms for Gustavo to drop his duffel bag. But Gustavo hesitates.

  "Slide it under the door," Aleksey commands the stranger in the hallway.

  "That is impossible, sir," the man answers.

  Gustavo drops his bag. Zachary catches it, utilizing a swinging technique that keeps heavy objects, like the duffel bag, from hitting the ground after being caught. Zachary sets the bag down by his feet and beckons for Gustavo to climb down.

  Gustavo looks down at the balcony railings, winces, and shakes his head. With forceful arm motions, Zachary orders Gustavo to climb.

  Through the open door to the balcony, Gustavo hears Aleksey tell the man that the door is not going to open, no matter the emergency. Gustavo looks again at Zachary's fierce intensity, straddles the balcony railing, and attempts to mimic the method Zachary used. Gustavo conjures the strength to lower his body in the hanging position until his feet reach the top of the railing below. Overcoming his terror, he continues descending, floor by floor, until he lands at Zachary's side.

  Following Zachary's lead, Gustavo sprints around the building to the riverwalk and races toward the resort next door. Coming upon a small group of people leaving a casino, they slow their pace to a brisk walk and continue heading south with the duffel bag. They pass a security guard patrolling the riverwalk, a drunk woman puking in a flower garden, and a man and woman groping each other passionately in a gazebo. The water taxi platforms, boat docks, and coast guard stations are closed with locked latches.

  They reach a massive land-based resort that is a replica of a paddle wheel boat similar to those which traveled the Mississippi River in the 1800s. On the side of the casino, a hundred feet off of the riverwalk, Zachary and Gustavo huddle in a small storage area walled with concrete masonry blocks.

  "Do you think Aleksey was captured?" Gustavo asks.

  "No, he is a consummate pro," Zachary answers. "I trust we will hear from him any mi
nute now."

  "Who or what do you believe they are after? You, me, or the cobra? All of us?"

  "Gustavo, we don't know. So conclude the worst. Assume it's all of us. Everything."

  "Yes, we are in this together."

  "What perplexes me is what the person, or people, expected to accomplish by knocking on our door in the middle of the night," Zachary says. "Very odd. Bursting in would be one thing. Knocking and losing the element of surprise is another. At this point I am guessing that was not an ambush. But we had to get out of there, regardless, since we really don't know what avalanche we are trying to escape."

  "What vexes me is how I climbed down the balconies," Gustavo claims. "I would not have done that if someone offered me a million bucks. That is the power of fear."

  "No, that is the power of self-discovery. "You have to be challenged to see how far you will go. My experience is that once you begin smashing the chains—limitations—it becomes ever easier to succeed in unlocking your potential."

  28

  Stolen

  Back in the hotel suite, still conversing through a locked door, Aleksey instructs the man to transfer the delivery to hotel security.

  "I am hotel security, sir," the man responds.

  "Why are you blocking the peephole?" Aleksey asks.

  "I am not. There appears to be a piece of duct tape over it. Okay, I just tore it off."

  "Step backwards so I can see what is in your hands," Aleksey demands, peering through the hole.

  The uniformed guard, a tall middle aged man whose lankiness is compounded by his scrawny frame, retreats two steps into the hallway. Holding a velour-padded tray with a plain envelope in the center, both of the guard's hands are visible. Aleksey yanks open the door a few inches, holding his pistol out of view.

  "Set it down," Aleksey fiercely commands. "Now."

  The guard lowers his valet tray to the carpeted floor in front of the tips of his shiny shoes.

  "Hand delivery was guaranteed," the guard says, apparently resigned to the fact that a confrontation must be avoided as guests are sleeping in the surrounding rooms. "May I assure the client hand delivery was achieved?"

  "Take two steps back and keep your hands at your sides."

  "Yes, sir."

  "What is on the platter?" Aleksey asks.

  "Just a note in an envelope, sir."

  "Is there anything inside or under the padding?"

  "No, sir."

  "Who is your client?"

  "She did not provide me with her name."

  "Turn and go now," Aleksey commands him. "You can report delivery was achieved."

  "Very well," the guard replies, slightly bowing before turning and exiting out of the view down the hallway.

  Aleksey observes the hallway for several minutes before he retrieves the tray and locks the door. The envelope is sealed. Aleksey uses the velour around his fingers to open it so that his fingerprints do not make contact with the paper. He unfolds the note, which is a triple-folded page of hotel stationery, and peruses the scribbled words. Aleksey photographs the letter with his phone and texts the image to Zachary. It reads:

  "Dearest Zachariah Fellini, your presence is cordially requested, immediately, in the security of the hotel lobby. Only a few minutes of your time is required. A gratifying conclusion will be equitably achieved now. Respectfully, WB"

  As Aleksey packs Zachary's case, then his own, he uses the room phone and reaches the hotel reception desk. He inquires whether a package was delivered to his room and requests the name of the attendant or security guard who knocked on his door. The receptionist puts him on hold for a minute, then relays that she is unaware of any emergencies and insists that they would never deliver items to hotel guests without an emergency or specific request, especially in the middle of the night.

  Aleksey then calls Zachary and explains what occurred. They decide to leave Laughlin immediately and discuss where to meet. Aleksey insists that Zachary and Gustavo remain completely hidden behind the concrete walls and stay off the riverwalk.

  Exiting the hotel by the employee entrance, Aleksey finds a concealed alcove near the employee parking lot. Due to the pitch dark hour, it takes him almost three quarters of an hour to secure a shared ride and instruct the driver where to find him. Once inside the back seat of the vehicle with the luggage, Aleksey is on the phone again with Zachary.

  "I am arriving in a pearl 2018 Honda Accord with four doors," Aleksey says. "We are likely going to do a pass by the main entrance to the riverboat-style casino. You may be able to see us approach, but don't emerge until I give you an all clear signal."

  Aleksey remains on the phone with Zachary, who spots the Accord turn off South Casino Drive into the vast parking area for the resort.

  "Damn, you have company!" Zachary exclaims, noticing four people on two motorcycles swarming both sides of the car.

  "Slam the accelerator!" Aleksey yells to the driver.

  Instead, the panicked driver slams on his brakes. The men and women on the motorcycles, all with guns drawn and mask-like helmets, instantly subdue Aleksey and the driver and confiscate Aleksey's phone. Zachary starts to run to the scene, but Gustavo yanks him back into hiding.

  "No!" Gustavo insists. "Aleksey does not want you killed."

  Zachary agonizes as he watches two of the motorcyclists toss the driver from his car. He and Gustavo cannot see Aleksey, but from the amount of time the cyclists are in the back seat Zachary guesses what is happening.

  "They are binding Aleksey's arms," Zachary says, "and keeping him in the car. One of them is going to drive and another is probably holding Aleksey at gunpoint."

  The Accord speeds away, followed closely by the two motorcycles, which now have only one rider each. Zachary yells expletives and smashes his foot into the concrete block wall.

  "Don't ever hold me back again," Zachary rages at Gustavo.

  "I won't," Gustavo sullenly replies. "I am sorry."

  "I feel like throwing your ass in that river."

  "Could you have stopped four people with guns?" Gustavo asks. "I thought I was saving you from a rash decision. It all happened so fast."

  "They could dump Aleksey's corpse by the side of the road," Zachary glowers. "I have to try and find him and rescue him myself. You cannot help me."

  "So this is where we part? This is the end? If so, I might as well just throw myself in the river. Take the cobra. I never see want to see it—or you—ever again."

  PART 3

  29

  Cabin

  Gustavo Vila Nova, reposed in a comfortable hammock on a cedar-planked deck, watches the effects of the late afternoon sun. Rays of light and shadow, reaching new angles every minute, reveal and conceal the fir trees and mountain peaks. He is surrounded by a forest-green lake and the chill in the fresh air revives his lungs.

  At the tip of Gibralter Point, a slender peninsula in California's Big Bear Lake, almost 7,000 feet above sea level in the San Bernardino Mountains, Gustavo feels temporarily elevated above the pandemonium of the past few days. He ignores his glass of tea, letting the ice cubes melt and shrivel, and keeps his arms tucked warmly against his sides.

  Zachary Fellini saunters out of the rented cabin in a thick cotton sweater and climbs onto a lounge chair beside him.

  "You did the best thing," Zachary states, looking ahead at the ripples on the lake instead of speaking directly to Gustavo.

  Gustavo remains silent. He, too, only stares forward. The men are less than four feet apart physically, but the gulf between them is vast.

  "Did you hear me?" Zachary asks.

  "I am not pouting," Gustavo answers. "I just don't have any response at the moment."

  "My words were a bit vicious. But I was not going to abandon you."

  "You did, though. I followed you, twenty feet behind, because I had no other choice. It reminded me of something brutally ugly I once witnessed. An abused dog kept following, at a distance, a man who was screaming expletives at him. This happe
ned in Los Angeles. It broke my heart. I was haunted for weeks afterward because I could not save him. I tried to get the dog to accept my compassion, but he insisted on following his hateful owner. He thought his survival depended upon it. This morning, I was just like that dog. Unwanted. Disgraced. A burden. I never want to feel like that again."

  Zachary shifts the lounge chair to more of a reclining position, sighs, and takes deep breaths.

  "I was not hateful," Zachary counters, "and I was not going to leave you in the lurch. I was just blowing off steam. If you had stopped following me, I would have chased after you. Everyone has a temper. I admit I do."

  "I am not perfect either. But I do not ever want to be reckless with power, if I am ever fortunate enough to gain any of it, and wound someone dependent on me by threat of abandonment."

  "I understand your point of view. For several minutes there, after my bodyguard and friend was abducted, I lost myself. I admit I was reckless and I am sorry."

  "Thank you, Zachary. Apology accepted."

  Gustavo leans to his side, balancing on his shoulder in the hammock so he can face Zachary.

  "Why didn't you take the wand?" Gustavo asks. "I tried to give it to you. You could have walked away with treasure and done whatever you wanted with it."

  "It's not mine," Zachary answers, turning toward Gustavo. "Did you mistake me for a scoundrel or a thief?"

  "No."

  "Then let's focus on what's ahead. The future. We have to save Aleksey. There are still too many components of the puzzle missing. I need tranquility and clarity to solve this—the conundrum of what is happening. Also, you have to decide for yourself what you are going to do with the serpent and how you want me to help. These are the bottom lines."

  "I don't know yet how the wand and the pursuit of you and Aleksey are exactly connected," Gustavo says, "beyond some relationship with Cobra De Capello."