by Tom Haase
Schultz experienced great joy from that news. He engineered that result by paying for the universities to string out the proceedings to deplete the Donavans’ cash. That route he designed to ruin Bridget Donavan before he extracted his final vengeance on her for his son’s death. He waited for Scott to continue.
“My sister estimates that for us to be successful we would need approximately half a million dollars.” Having said this, he sat back and locked his eyes with Schultz. “We also want twenty percent of the sale value.”
Schultz laughed before continuing. “Surely you don't expect me to hand over $500,000 for you to go off chasing a book that up until now has been considered nonexistent. Perhaps is still nonexistent as most notable academicians contend? As far as a percentage, we'll discuss that after you get the Bible.” A plan began to emerge based on the information the young man provided. To acquire that Bible would be a financial gold mine. He already tested that premise with some of his clandestine buyers earlier in the day.
Scott crossed and then uncrossed his legs in a nervous manner. Schultz knew he figuratively clinched the boy by the throat, and if he could get the Bible and pay back the sister it would be a win-win for him. He would fund this venture to get them to go after the book but he had already decided to do that. In the arrangement he would propose all the movements of Bridget Donavan would be his to know.
The time arrived to go in for the kill. The young man needed to give in. He wanted this too much to not succumb to Schultz’s plan. Schultz reclined in his chair and put his hands together in the church steeple mode and waited.
“Sir,” Scott said, “you would get the credit for being a sponsor of this important discovery, but we insist on our twenty percent when sold.”
Benjamin laughed. The young man didn’t give in without a fight. He made it a controlled laugh but laughed enough to make Scott uncomfortable. He deliberately played out a role. The time arrived to turn this dialogue to his favor.
“Scott, I think you're seeing it the wrong way. For that amount of money I get the total credit and you get to be the ones who are employed by me to find it. I think—”
Scott interrupted him, speaking with deliberate purpose and tone. “No way, you don't get credit for finding something you don't find. If we go, we get the credit.”
“If I may continue … I would put it in this context. If I do not provide the money, you will not get to go, nor will you get any credit. Word will leak out, it always does. The cat is out of the bag concerning your bible, and others will surely take up the trail to it. If you want to get it first you need to get started at once.” He waited for this to sink in.
“You expect us to give you the entire credit?”
“No, I expect you to give me the book,” Benjamin stated. He watched the shocked expression on Scott's face. He calculated what must come and planned to sit here for at least a full minute without saying a thing.
Scott sank back into his seat and raised the Scotch glass. He took a big sip. He didn't say a word. Benjamin Schultz could see Scott's mind racing, trying to figure out an alternative path, a different way, a counter proposition but obviously failing to reach one.
“You and your sister would get fame. The whole world would know that you're the ones who found this Bible. Perhaps from that you can redeem your academic credentials. That's what you're ultimately after, I believe. I'm willing to assist you in that venture if you are successful. The successful conclusion of your hunt could solve your problems. I'll agree to finance the expedition, you’ll agree to turn over the Bible of Constantine to me when you find it.”
He waited and watched Scott. Following his plan would produce the exact location of Bridget. His revenge could be so sweet with her gaining the book and then losing it, and he would, at last, achieve her death.
Scott's quandary showed in his face. They needed the money right away if they were going to pursue this quest.
“No deal.” Scott rose to leave. The kid stayed obstinate. He attempted to play the game, but he was a beginner without the finesse needed to win.
“Please remain,” Schultz said. “I can see your point on the twenty percent as it will provide you cash to get resettled in your reclaimed positions. I agree to five percent.”
Scott sat and nodded. How easy to give him something he would never collect. Kesi would see to that.
“Ten,” Scott said.
He nodded as he decided to go ahead and spring the last part of his plan instead of waiting any longer, the part that would ensure his success in achieving both of his goals.
“There is one more condition.”
“I will have to talk to my sister but I see no alternative and accept your offer. What other condition could you possibly have?” Scott said in a surrendering voice.
“To ensure my investment, my daughter, Gertrude, will accompany you at every stage of this journey. This is not negotiable. It is the protection I insist upon for my money.”
He observed Scott's face conceding defeat as he realized there were probably no alternatives, no more negotiating position, and no other escape route. At last, he gave a consenting nod.
“Okay, if that's the way it has to be.” He should have talked to Bridget more about these contingencies.
Schultz walked over to the door next to the wide-framed window overlooking Central Park, opened it, and called his daughter.
“Gertrude, could you come in here, please?”
Scott stood up in anticipation of meeting the daughter. He heard the footsteps approaching. He froze on seeing the black-haired beauty appear.
The beauty from the Smithsonian hallway sauntered toward him.
13
Alexandria, Egypt
Kesi Kanika puffed away on his water pipe. This pleasure palace reeked of smoke as western music bombarded the air. A few nets, mistresses, moved about the place and served tea. The sun set four hours ago and he needed to relax. The money arrived into his account from Schultz and now he could enjoy himself.
The weeks in hospital, the three surgeries to fix his bowels and the interminable therapy, at last, he didn't need that any more. The pain faded over the weeks, and his mobility returned, so also his needs.
“May I sit?” he asked. She radiated beauty in this low-lit room and oozed sexuality with her large body. She could definitely handle him.
“Come closer,” he urged. His hand went around her waist as he sat.
“Where are you from?” she asked. “You aren't from around here.”
“I come from the Upper Nile. It's a long way. I need comforting.”
“I believe I can comfort you, big man. Do you know all the right words?” She wiggled closer to him.
“How much? If that is the right word.”
She told him.
“Does that include everything?” She nodded, and he moved his hand to her breast to signal acceptance. As he squeezed it, he realized it would take both hands to work on such a large melon. She took the cash from his free hand before he started to employ it together with his other hand.
With Schultz's money now in his account, he could afford a little distraction after all his suffering. He needed a little fun while waiting for a destination. Sooner or later the location of the woman would appear in his email, and he would be off to finish his contract. The pleasure of offing the Donavan bitch would exceed any pleasure he would get in the next few minutes in the arms of this hunky bed worm massaging his crotch. But right now he felt immediate needs, and she would relieve them. There would be a quick pounding of her body with his manhood, and he would relieve himself and enjoy it.
The red-haired devil demon Donavan, on the other hand, would not be quick. She would suffer, maybe for hours, after he raped her repeatedly and then disemboweled her. He would watch her life slip away for as long as it took, maybe hours, and he would remember all of his pain. She would suffer like he did from the gut wound, but she would die.
The bought piece of flesh next to him stood up, pulling
him after her. He rushed to follow—to have a woman, to relieve the urgency in his groin.
The shabby room offered a large bed that had a duvet flung in a haphazard manner over a few pillows and a single small wooden chair in the corner. No pictures or any kind of decoration on the walls. The door might as well have been made out of rice paper. She turned him around to face the bed and massaged his crotch, opening his pants and took his manhood in her mouth.
Kesi felt the warm mouth on him and tensed in anticipation. His need urged him on. “Come on, get on the bed.”
She stood up and confronted him. “That will be one hundred more to ride me.”
“You said the price was for everything.”
“That's before I saw how you are built, big man. I need more to let you fuck me. Come on, it's just a little, and I promise to be good for you,” she cooed the last as she played with his exposed member.
Kesi produced the bill, threw her on her back, and mounted her. It felt good as he rode her. But she had ripped him off. He pushed hard into her and took his time now that he paid the extorted money.
Briefly, his mind flashed back to his village life. A place far away from this whore house and a time of pleasant memories. They had grown up together and made love in their fifteenth year. He went off to visit his cousin in the capitol for a week and on returning, he found the village leveled by government troops and his parents murdered and the love of his life machine-gunned to death. He joined the resistance and flourished as a dispenser of justice to all those his commanders ordered killed for collaborating with the government forces. He would sneak into the bedroom at night and knock out the husband. Then tie up the woman and hang the man by his arms from any beam available. He would take a few minutes exploring the body of the tied-up female before he raped her. He made sure the husband watched. When he exploded inside her he would slit her throat with his combat knife and then on his way out he would slice open the man's bowels and let him die watching his wife's blood drain away.
The big woman moaned to get him to finish faster. She faked enjoying him in her, but he knew that he would use her till he felt like finishing. She reminded him of being on top of a waterbed without any baffles when he pushed into her. He had seen such a bed in the house of a monster he killed in front of his wife, before raping and killing her. He used the bed at that time to enjoy her. But now he needed to relieve his desire and he finished with a loud exhale of pleasure.
Afterwards, she rose and left him to dress, no doubt hurrying off to find her next client. After leaving the establishment, which occupied a small store area in what would be a strip mall in many places, he walked only a minute to find a bar and ordered a beer.
He waited. He always paid back anyone who double-crossed him.
At two in the morning all became quiet and the bar closed. He went out and waited in the recess of the storefront. From his location he could see the front of the whorehouse, and in a minute three women appeared. They split up after saying their farewells, and Kesi followed his target.
She ambled down the street and when she reached the end of the shops, he struck. He pulled her backwards around the corner into the alley and down.
Her hair slid in his hand but he grabbed her mouth to ensure no call for help escaped her mouth, and his other hand brought the knife up to plunge it in under her jaw. He felt the blood slide down over his hand as he drew the blade across the fat neck. Her body lost its ability to stand. The woman collapsed. In the faint streetlight he could see that she recognized him.
“Never cheat on a deal. You ripped me off for more money than agreed.” He watched as her eyes closed.
He used the woman’s scarf to clean his hands and wiped the blade on her dress. Her purse lay a few feet away. He emptied the contents over her body. There were many currency notes, and he spread them around on the ground and on the body. That would ensure whoever found her would mess up the crime scene by recovering all the scattered bills. Last, he bent over and picked up a one hundred-note bill and walked away.
The next morning, feeling great and smiling at the world, he entered a local café, paid the manager to use his computer and signed into his email account. The long expected message appeared.
“Go to Jerusalem.”
14
New York
Benjamin Schultz poured his daughter a gin and tonic and asked her to take a seat. Scott's departure allowed them to have a family council. This would be a confrontation and might prove to be more difficult than the negotiations with the Donavan boy.
He observed Gerti's up turned lips, a sure sign that she could barely contain her anger. He took his time in order to win this imminent battle.
“Just a second, I have to do something,” he said. Turning his back on her, he went to his computer and sent a message to Kesi.
Go to Jerusalem. Do not, I repeat, do not approach the woman. Observe only. You will receive further instructions and double pay, which is now in your account to cover any added expenses. Wait for my instructions.
He returned to face his daughter. The battle now began.
Gertrude started as soon as he returned. “What the hell are you up to, father?” She looked stunning in the white outfit with the Egyptian symbol of eternal life around her neck. The silver medal beautifully offset the dark skin that she received from her deceased mother. He had met his late wife at the university in Cairo when he was studying for his degree. In love with her from the first day, he pursued her until they were married. A decade of a happy and prosperous marriage with three beautiful children passed before the breast cancer took her away from him.
“Now, dear,” he started.
“Don't give me that. You're up to something. You haven't told me anything today, and then that moron I met at the Smithsonian appears in our apartment. I met him when I delivered the Apache Medicine Man's rattle and pipes that you managed to acquire from that Canadian archaeologist. What the hell is going on with Scott Donavan? He's a worker bee at the Smithsonian for god's sake.” She stared at him with the smug look that he hated. She discovered that Scott wasn’t a “worker bee” and taunted him. She squinted her left eye and crunched her shoulders. That one motion did more to disrupt the image of pure beauty that anything else she could do. He knew she did it when she became more than a little upset.
“I'm sorry that I did not have time to talk to you before he arrived. You’d just gotten back and were freshening up when he got here. I thought we would have a chance to talk before, but the situation didn't allow it.” He decided not to mention the fact that she’d taken over an hour and a half to clean up, as she called it.
“Who the hell is he?” She apparently wanted to make him answer something she already knew.
Schultz gave her an abbreviated précis of the life of the Donavans.
“I heard you say that I am to go with him to Jerusalem.” She pounded on the edge of the chair as she said, “I'm not.”
“I want you to listen to me.” Schultz tried to take control of the conversation.
“Father, you're not listening,” Gertrude said as she stood up and approached him. “Not going. Not going. Not going. That's final.”
Shultz peered at his daughter and tried to stare her down. He sensed anger overrode her judgment at this point.
“You see, I'm going to the most prestigious of all gala parties in New York on Saturday night,” she said. “I'm not about to be in some dust-ridden hotel in Jerusalem following this janitor idiot.”
He listened with patience as he moved to refill his scotch glass. He strained to keep his eyes on her as much as possible to show that he paid attention. Her hand came up and she ran fingers through her jet-black hair, using both hands at the same time, flipping them out as she pushed through her hair.
“Father, you wanted me to be immersed in all of our operations so that I could continue doing the business and someday be able to take it over. The best way I can do that is be here in New York where I can be among the people who ca
n make us rich. Make us richer. If I am traipsing off on some search for a bible that you said before doesn't even exist. I cannot further our business opportunities.”
She turned away from his stare, a good sign. She might be running out of steam. Schultz now realized that she must have been listening to some or all of the conversation with Scott Donavan while in her room. At least now she was being reasonable, and he had a way of approaching her with some of her own logic. She would see the advantage of doing it his way, but it would take her a few more minutes to accept the consequence of giving up her customary social life in order to take on this new venture.
Schultz remembered that she hadn't always been this way. Many times she'd gone off on a quest of her own. She'd get a piece of antiquity, a dinosaur bone, or some precious gem to add to their collection for trading or bartering. She had become quite adept at turning things into a handsome profit. Schultz believed it too long since she had participated in a chase. One needed to do that from time-to-time to keep abreast of what the opposition would do to thwart any undertaking.
“Speaking of business opportunities my dear, I believe this might be one of the rarest of all. I need you to be there to protect our interest. There could also be some complications on this mission, and I believe it is necessary for you to supervise all of the events.”
“What complications?” She asked.
“There are some things that may happen, and it would be better at this point in time if you didn't know.” He did not want to go into the details of what Kesi planned to do nor why. Schultz never shared with her why he had hatred, not just a simple hatred, but a perpetual burning anger to see Bridget Donavan dead. Gertrude might understand, for it concerned her brother after all, but it became a father's duty to take care of this matter.
“If you're not going to share everything with me, how can I be your partner and learn how to take over this business.” Her anger slowly dissipated. He never used the threat of disowning her if she did not do what he wished, but in this case he would if it came to that. He needed her to be there and he needed her to report what went on. Without knowing all the details, she would not act in any suspicious way with the Donavans and that would be to her advantage. With her reports, he would easily manage to control the actions from afar. He hoped that she now accepted his request to send her.