Spirals

by Scott Bergin

  "I don't know." Gabrielle replied, nervously playing with the gold crucifix that dangled from her neck.

  "Don't be so nervous." Robert said. "And take a guess."

  "You're some sort of government agent." She said. "And you're after him for that page, because it can overthrow the government of Cameroon."

  "Well, that's quite an imagination you've got there." He said smiling. "But you're not even close."

  "What then?" Gabrielle asked.

  "Well, for starters, I don't work for any government." He replied.

  "Who do you work for then?" Gabrielle asked, interrupting him.

  "I don't work for anybody, except myself." He replied. "And I couldn't care less about that page, whatever it is."

  "Then why are you so interested in Thomas LaRue?" She asked.

  "He wiped out my main business." Robert said. "For that he must pay."

  "You want to find him so you can kill him?" Gabrielle asked, drinking her entire Tequila Sunrise in one gulp.

  "Well, I prefer to think of it as making him disappear." He explained.

  "Any way you look at it, it's murder." Gabrielle said.

  "Yes it is." Robert replied. "But don't tell me you think he deserves any less than a horrible death for what he has done."

  "For what he has done to you?" She asked. "For ruining your business?"

  "No." Robert said. "For killing all those people."

  "You didn't say that you were going to kill him for what he did to all those people." She replied. "You said you were going to kill him for what he did to your business."

  "It's the same thing." Robert insisted. "There is no difference."

  "The result may be the same." Gabrielle admitted. "But the reasoning behind it is quite different."

  "You still don't get it." Robert said.

  "What don't I understand?" Gabrielle asked.

  "He killed everyone in my business." He replied. "My business was located next to the lake."

  "That lake was in the middle of nowhere. There were no businesses anywhere near it." Gabrielle insisted.

  "You wanted to know the truth." Robert said. "Well, now I'm telling it to you."

  "What business could you possibly run in the middle of a rainforest?" She asked.

  "I can't tell you that." He replied.

  "Why not?" She asked.

  "Because you are a reporter." Robert replied. "You'd turn me in, just for a good story."

  "You're a smuggler." She whispered.

  "You didn't hear that from me." Robert said. "And if you print any such thing, I'll hunt you just like I'm going to hunt Thomas LaRue."

  "I won't print a word." Gabrielle replied. "I photograph the stories. I don't write them."

  "Good." Robert said. "Now tell me about Thomas."

  "Well, he's an American." Gabrielle said. "I think he's from Miami, or he visits there a lot."

  "What makes you say that?" He asked.

  "He had clothes that said Miami on them." She said.

  "He could just be a tourist who happened to visit Miami." Robert said.

  "No." Gabrielle said. "His clothes were all the same. They all had the same team on them."

  "What team?" He asked.

  "The Orlando Magic." She replied.

  "Aside from that, you have no other proof that he was an American?" Robert asked.

  "Well, he told us that he was an American." She said. "But aside from the clothes, I couldn't guess what city he was from."

  "When did he tell you that he was an American?" Robert asked.

  "When we first met him." She replied. "But he didn't have to. He spoke such perfect English, that we would have assumed he was an American anyway."

  "When you say 'we' you are speaking of . . . " Robert said, waiting for her to fill in the rest.

  "Alex Taylor." She said.

  "Ah, the man lost in the jungle." He replied.

  "The man traveling through the jungle." She corrected him.

  "Of course." He said.

  "That's why I have to get to London." Gabrielle said.

  "I'm afraid I don't understand." Robert admitted.

  "When he makes it out of the jungle, he is going to try to contact me in London."

  "I wouldn't get your hopes up too high." Robert said. "That jungle can be extremely hazardous to someone who is unfamiliar with it."

  "He will make it out." Gabrielle assured him.

  "I'm just trying to let you know the cold truth." Robert insisted.

  "The cold truth is that he will make it out of that jungle." She replied.

  "Okay." Robert said, sensing she was not willing to give an inch on the subject.

  "How about you wait with me in London?" She asked.

  "Why?" He replied. "I mean no. I've got things to do."

  "I'll make a deal with you." Gabrielle said. "You wait with me in London for three days. If we don't hear from Alex by then, you won't owe me any wishes."

  "And if we do hear from him?" Robert asked.

  "Well odds are that we'll have to fly back into the rainforest to get him." She said. "Either way, at the end of three days you won't owe me anything."

  "We're going to fly back to Africa?" Robert asked.

  "Maybe." Gabrielle said.

  "Whose idea was London?" He asked.

  "Alex's." She said.

  "Couldn't they just take a message in London, and we'll wait it out in Africa?" Robert asked.

  "We could, but they might get the message screwed up." She said. "And don't forget, he is hot on Thomas LaRue's trail in that jungle. You wouldn't want to lose him due to poor communication, would you?"

  "The fewer ears that hear these conversations, the better." Robert admitted.

  "Exactly." Gabrielle said. "So we have a deal?"

  "We have a deal." Robert agreed. "Now tell me everything else you know about Thomas LaRue, starting with a physical description."

  Gabrielle gave him the description that he asked for, along with everything else she could remember about Thomas LaRue. After that, she relaxed in her soft leather seat, and went to sleep. Robert immediately got busy on the phone. He placed calls to important friends and businessmen. Some of them were in the United States, some in Europe, and some in Africa. He passed on the information about Thomas LaRue, along with instructions on how to conduct the search for him. The search was to start in Miami, and Cameroon. The second stage was to search the eastern half of the United States, and Western Africa. After that, the search would spread worldwide. Robert didn't care how long the search took, so long as it was thorough. Robert was confident that he would not be let down. He never had been before. After a couple of hours on the phone, he was exhausted. Robert sat back in his chair, and joined Gabrielle in her slumber.

  Chapter 37

  April 17

  7:35 a.m.

  The Atlantic Ocean

  Thomas was surprised to find that the boat had made it through the night without any problems. Hector had somehow managed to keep things under control. The coast remained between twenty and thirty miles off to the right of the ship. The storm remained far behind them, and out of sight. Thomas began to think that they might make it back without too much difficulty. Then he recalled thinking that exact same thought about getting away with the bombing back in Italy.

  Two days after the bombing things had calmed down. Thomas and Hector had agreed to meet at Thomas' town house to discuss the rest of the plan. Thomas was out in the back yard chopping wood when Hector arrived at ten in the morning. Hector let himself in, and made himself at home. He opened the sliding glass door to the back yard, and called to Thomas. Thomas came inside, sharpening the double bladed axe as he walked. When Thomas entered his house, he was surprised to see someone else in the house. He turned to his right, and saw a luscious leggy blonde woman making lemonade in the kitchen. Hector promptly introduced her as Sandra Pennelli, his mistress. Thomas set the axe down next to the kitchen counter and shook her hand. Afterwards, he invited her into
the living room. The living room was located only a couple of steps to Thomas' left. He walked her around the end of the couch and sat her down. The couch faced away from the kitchen, but provided little privacy for Hector and Thomas. Sandra was left facing a small television in front of the sofa, and a fireplace off to the right. She looked around for a place to set her drink. Strangely, she found none. She turned on the television with the remote, sensing that Thomas had sat her there to gain privacy in the kitchen. Sandra relaxed on the sofa, stretching her arms out across the back. Her right arm held the lemonade. Her left arm controlled the remote.

  In the kitchen, Hector tried to explain that she was all right with the situation. He tried to convince Thomas that she was trustworthy. Thomas wasn't buying into her act. He spotted her purse on the kitchen counter, and decided to search through it. Thomas sent Hector into the living room to keep her busy. He didn't want her walking the five steps back into the kitchen while he was on the floor with her bag. Hector agreed, and walked into the living room. He sat down on the floor in front of Sandra. She hiked up her long dress, spread her legs, and Hector rested his back on the base of the couch between them. Sandra set her legs over his shoulders, and crossed her ankles in front of his chest. Hector was convinced that she was not suspicious, and she could not get up very easily. He tried to remove her boots, to ensure that she would not get up, but she resisted.

  Thomas quickly riffled through her purse on the kitchen floor, as quietly as possibly. He found her driver's license, and a couple of credit cards. He sorted through tons of makeup and facial products. Then, he froze. He slowly removed a small leather pouch, and opened it. Thomas could hardly believe what he was staring at. It was a badge. The woman in the next room was a cop, a detective to be exact. Thomas quickly put all her belongings back into the bag. He noticed that one thing was missing, a gun. She must be wearing it. Thomas also considered the possibility that she was wired, or that the house was being watched. He could only hope that it wasn't. He knew that if it was, he would be going to jail for more than one murder. Thomas walked toward the living room, unsure what he was going to do when he arrived. On his way by, he picked up the double bladed axe. Thomas quietly walked up behind Sandra, and just stood there. She showed no sign of noticing him. Thomas took one step back, and thought of what to do next.

  In one swift motion, Thomas swung the axe at the couch. The blade struck Sandra's right arm at the elbow. The arm sheared off, and the blade sunk into the back of the couch. Sandra didn't scream. She was in too much shock. Instead, her whole body tensed. Her legs locked around Hector's neck, cutting off the circulation. Hector fought to get her legs off him, though he could not figure out why she was trying to strangle him. The arm, clenched to the glass of lemonade, fell to the floor in front of the couch. Hector spotted it, and began struggling much harder. Thomas pulled the axe free from the couch and held it over his head again. Hector pulled himself free from Sandra's legs, and rolled across the floor. Sandra stood up off the couch, then lost her balance. She caught herself by placing her left hand on the back of the couch. Thomas swung at it. The axe sank deep into her wrist, shattering it. Sandra stood back up, her left wrist dangled by only a few tendons and ligaments. Blood flowed freely onto the plush carpet from both of her massive wounds. Hector pulled himself off the floor, and asked Thomas what was going on. Thomas quickly explained that she was a cop, and that her identification was in her purse. Hector protested, and ran at Thomas. Thomas turned the axe around, and hit Hector in the jaw with the handle. Hector fell unconscious, and landed next to the fireplace. A small trickle of blood flowed out his mouth, and Thomas knew that Hector's jaw was broken.

  Sandra still stood on her weary legs, staring at her missing limbs in disbelief. Thomas came around the end of the couch swinging the axe like a baseball bat. The blade hit Sandra just above her right knee cap. The blade twisted on impact, and her knee cap was pulled most of the way off. Her leg bent backwards, and Sandra fell forward onto the arm of the couch. Thomas grabbed her by the hair, and threw her onto her back in the middle of the living room. With another blow of the axe, Thomas severed her right leg at the knee. He grabbed the limb, and held it up for her to see. When he held it up, a small pistol fell out of the boot. The pistol landed next to Sandra's left arm. She tried to grab it, then remembered that she had no left hand. All she could do was weep. Thomas saw this, and started to laugh. He pulled off her other boot, and chopped her left leg off at the ankle. When he was done, he held it up for her to see. A few seconds after that, she passed out from a lack of blood. Thomas put the axe down, and let her bleed to death in peace.

  Hector woke up a few minutes later. He was surprised to find himself sitting in the shower with a gun at pointed his head. Thomas asked him why he shouldn't just kill him. Hector reminded him about the money, and Thomas put the gun down. Thomas realized that there was a possibility that she didn't know about the bombing. The police had not barged in during her slaughter, so the house was probably not being watched. Thomas admitted that there was a chance that she had not found out about it yet, and that she had not told the police about it. If the police didn't know about it, they could still collect all of the insurance money. Thomas realized that he had nothing to lose by letting Hector live. He explained to Hector that he did not feel the least bit guilty for killing her. Thomas knew that if the police didn't already know about the bombing, she certainly would have told them. Hector tried to agree with him, because he knew that Thomas was right. His feelings for Sandra continued to get in the way, and he found himself unable to decide if what Thomas had done was justified.

  Thomas let Hector out of the bathroom, and led him back to the living room. Upon seeing the mutilated body of his mistress, Hector threw up next to it. Thomas sat next to Hector on the couch, and explained what had to be done next. Thomas carried Sandra's body into the basement. When he came back up for the remaining pieces, he was relieved to see Hector busy cutting the rug from the floor. Thomas carried her limbs into the basement, and placed them beside her body. He placed the bloody axe on the cold cement floor beside her corpse. Then, he and Hector dragged the rug and the sofa into the basement as well. Afterward, Thomas and Hector changed out of their bloodied clothes, and placed them next to the body. When they were through, there was no trace of a murder other than in the basement. Before leaving the house with his one suitcase, Thomas set a trap. He attached a small trip wire to the basement door. The wire served two purposes. It would set off a small transmitting beacon hidden in the corner of his back yard. It would also set off a series of charges wired along the entire ceiling of the basement. Anyone in the house was guaranteed to be killed. One of the few items Thomas took with him from the house was the receiver that could pick up the signal from the beacon hidden in the back yard.

  Hector drove Thomas to a train station, where Thomas bought a ticket under a false name. He told Hector the name of the hotel in Rome he would be staying at. He also told him what false identity he would be using once he got to Rome. His new name would be Thomas LaRue. He had spent the last month creating a false identity, in case anything like this happened. Now he was pleased that he had been so paranoid. Thomas knew that he would be out of danger once he reached Rome. No one would think that he tried to stay in the country. They would all be searching the borders for him. When they let up on their search, he would leave at his own leisure. The only one still in danger was Hector Bishop. He still had to see if he could get the insurance money. Thomas tried to convince him that it was not worth risking his life for. Hector would hear nothing of it. Thomas told Hector that he would call him if the beacon went off. He gave Hector a beeper, and told him that if it ever went off, it meant that the police had found his basement. If that happened, Hector's only concern was to disguise himself, and get to Rome. Thomas didn't bother telling Hector the reason he wanted him to go to Rome. If Hector knew that Thomas wanted to kill him, and leave his body in a dumpster, he would never show up. The very next day, Thomas
' receiver went off. He quickly called Hector's beeper. A couple of minutes later, Hector returned the call. Thomas explained to him what disguises to wear, and what transportation to use. Hector followed his plan to the letter. He arrived in Rome late the next day, with no problems from the authorities.

  A large wave splashed up over the bow, spraying water into Thomas' face. He grabbed the wheel tightly. At first, he thought he had day dreamed so much that the storm had caught them. After a quick glance at the sky around him, Thomas saw that the storm was not in sight. The sea was getting rougher, but it was most likely due to winds not related to the storm. Thomas checked the gauges. They still had plenty of gas, and they were still traveling at full speed. Thomas looked to the right, and could barely make out the shoreline in the distance. He steered the boat slightly toward the shore. The last thing he wanted to do was get lost at sea in the Atlantic Ocean, with a storm coming up behind them. Thomas tried to keep from day dreaming, but with nothing else to do for the next nine hours, he knew it would be difficult. Thomas turned on the radio, and tried to listen for a weather forecast. He regretted having to leave his fancy computer back in Cameroon. He knew that would have provided him with far more accurate forecasts, and eased his boredom as well.

  Chapter 38

  April 17

  9:43 a.m.

  Libreville, Gabon

  Alex was amazed at his own good fortune. He managed to catch a ride with some local farmers, all the way to Libreville. He rode all night in the back of their pick up. The ride was not at all comfortable, but it was his only choice. His companions for the trip were a dozen chickens. Alex didn't manage to get much sleep during the night. The ride was far too uncomfortable for that. The shocks in the truck were completely worn out. Alex did manage to find one use for the chickens. He broke off a small piece of chicken wire, and picked the lock on his handcuffs. Alex had no experience in lock picking. As a result, the process took him nearly an hour. Though, he was sure he could have done it sooner if the truck had not been bouncing so much. Once he freed himself from his shackles, he threw them off to the side of the road. Over the next few hours, he tried to sleep. By the time he was tired enough to sleep, the burning sun prevented it.