martedì 15 dicembre 2015

Chapters 43, 44 and 45 of the thriller "D.C Undercover" Oscar Bartoli (Scarith Books/New Academia Publishing)



Chapter 43

A person dressed in a black wetsuit, the hood showing only the eyes, was pointing a gun at Michael. In the dim twilight, the voice said, “You don’t understand anything. Things are not what they seem. This dead Arab will be very useful to us. Even if he wasn’t able to kill the President he will be the pretext for a nuclear war against the Arab world.”

Michael was about to faint again. His mind was cloudy. The words of the person in black, like a Death-like figure, bounced around his brain with an echo, as if they were in a large basilica.

“Basilicas.” The thought floated through the wounded man’s mind. 

“The medieval cathedrals built by master masons… Why does he keep talking? Why doesn’t he just shoot and be done with it? I am so tired.”

But the black-dressed person had more to say. 

“It is the end of the oil-based civilization. The alternative energy one is about to begin. We needed something big, like the killing of the President who was fighting for the overthrow of the oil-based society. We screwed them all. We will make tons of money.”

A creepy laughter made even more so because of the crackling metallic sound of the robot-like voice followed.

“But it’s too late for you,” said in ending the black-dressed executioner. “Business is business. Nothing personal. It’s your turn now.”

Michel closed his eyes and saw his father smiling at him. Then there was a rush of overlapping faces, places, war scenes… Olivia… he didn’t care anymore about anything.

“Go ahead, shoot and then go fuck yourself,” he said with his last remaining strength.

Two clear shots rang out. No silencer had been used.

The black-dressed person fell to the ground with a moan. 

Tom Genisio, Michael’s sidekick, came out of the shadows. He had been looking for Michael ever since hell had broken loose.

Tom ran to Michael who pointed at his wounded leg. Tom took off his tie and tied it tightly above Michael’s knee to reduce the bleeding. Then he helped Michael to his feet.

Meanwhile other members of Michael’s team, having heard the shots, had arrived at their side.

Before being placed on the stretcher Michael turned to Tom Genisio, “Wait – shine a light here…”

He bent over the black dressed body withering in pain on the side of the pool and tore of the hood.

Rachel’s flaming red hair tumbled out. Around her neck she had an electronic larynx. A trickle of blood was coming out of her mouth and ran into the red of her lipstick. 

She couldn’t talk, from her mouth came a death rattle. Her green eyes had a look of terror, pain, agony and despair.
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Chapter 44

Smith & Smith law firm in the Reagan Building in the nation’s capital.

The boss and his associates were watching the latest news about the attempt on the President’s life on three TV screens. There were eyewitness accounts and close ups of the round drone being shown by FBI agents.

Breaking news on the discovery of the Arab’s body: “The news that the attempt on the President was orchestrated and carried out by an Arab is causing outbreaks in the U.S. What you are seeing now is the destruction of stores and agencies owned or managed by Arab Americans. There is increasing fear throughout the country despite the fact that the White House had stated that there is no information on any possible Fareh Habib affiliations with Islamic extremists. Habib was known in international intelligence circles as a hired killer. Any hypothesis of links to Al Qaeda or ISIS for the moment has not been confirmed in any way. The President is well and will shortly hold a press conference. White House sources say he will soon resume his nationwide visits.”

Eyewitness accounts then followed.

 A woman in tears said, “We didn’t know what was happening. We saw secret service agents throw themselves on the President and push him to the floor. We couldn’t understand why. Then there was that small black sphere that entered the room and was bouncing around – like a game, an ill-conceived prank. Then it started launching missiles and there was total confusion. I threw myself to the floor. My friend Ruth who was next to me was hit on the head by a block of cement. I think one also landed on one of the President’s bodyguards. It seemed to last an eternity or at least until that damn flying sphere was stopped by the secret service or somehow fell… I don’t know. I knew the President’s coming to town would provoke a terrorist attack… Six people dead and lots of wounded among those attending the meeting with the President. He should have stayed in Washington.”
 
The intercom interrupted the TV watching. The secretary announced the arrival of two FBI agents. 

They burst through the door. “Mr. Paul Kidman, senior partner of Smith & Smith?”

“That’s me,” said the boss in an authoritative, icy tone of voice.

“This is an order for your arrest and that of your collaborators for an attempt on the life of the President.”

“There must be a mistake.”

“You are a well-known attorney and now you will have to prove it. You will have to explain your relationship with the now deceased attorney Rachel O’Hara who answered directly to you even though officially she was senior vice president of a lobbying firm. You will have to explain how and why you hired a hit man to eliminate persons who interfered with your plans.”


“Basically,” said the other FBI agent with a self-satisfied sneer, “we are very interested and want to hear from you. For the moment, turn around and put your hands behind your back. Anything you say will be used against you. You have the right to an attorney of your choice. Do you have anyone in mind?”

Mr. Paul Kidman and his four close collaborators were led out in handcuffs. They passed by the  showy secretary who could hardly hide her dismay because after all she kind of liked that son of a bitch of Paul Kidman, assuming someone could have feelings for such an icy man.

 But then, leaving aside passion or supposed affection, she was going to lose her salary. She’d also be losing the bonus she got when the boss, overwhelmed by stress or perhaps wishing to tamper down any possible feelings of remorse, would call her into his office and she would kneel down and give him oral sex while he remained seated at his desk. He gave her $200 each time.
Now what?
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Chapter 45

Meeting of the Garibaldi Lodge. The occasion was the installation ceremony for the Worshipful Master,  Senior and Junior Wardens and other Lodge officers. 

The master of installation read to the Worshipful Master his duties and responsibilities for his one-year mandate. The master of ceremonies moved to the center of the Lodge and upon raising his golden baton and turning to the west, south and east announced that the new Worshipful Master had been unanimously elected. Then the installation ceremonies for the other dignitaries and officials followed.

Once the ritual was over, the Worshipful Master who was sitting in the Orient stood up and delivered his opening speech.

“Brothers,” he said, “we have come through a bad moment. The international situation has reached a point of no return and there is danger of a nuclear conflagration that could kill billions of people. Unfortunately our ancient Order has shown that it is vulnerable. We have been infiltrated because we did not pay more attention to the profane world. Insane so-called Masonic offshoots that in reality were corrupt entities have polluted our organization and we have been accused of matters for which we are blameless.

We must be careful. We must operate openly in the world and consolidate our image with transparent action. We have nothing to hide. We are an active part of this society, one the Founding Fathers imbued with their deep moral convictions. We must rediscover ‘the fundamentals’ of our existence. We must move among the ‘profane world’ and let it know us. We must be a true model of behavior – everyone in his own niche as a professional, family father, husband as educator. We must help rebuild the ideals that were at the basis of the miracle of faith and collective energy that resulted in the birth of our beloved nation: The United States of America.”

The meeting ended with the closing ritual. The Worshipful Master banged his gavel. 

Then he took hold of his cane and visibly limping he descended from the Orient podium. 

He was greeted by the loud applause of the many Brothers in attendance. 

They gathered around him and congratulated the newly elected Worshipful Master: Michael Bardi.

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