Massive Attack (A Guy Niava Thriller Book 1) by Dana Arama (e reader for manga .txt) 📗

also my interest. For me this was part of life’s game. I preferred to carry on following them, so I could be the hunter rather than the hunted.

Laura Ashton,

A pub in Philadelphia, November 11, 2015, 4:15 p.m.

His body language showed that he wanted to get things moving. He had glanced at his watch twice already and checked his messages on his phone numerous times. Considering the circumstances, it was absolutely understandable. On the way here I read that he was a combat fighter, the kind who pursues contact with the enemy. The interesting bit of information was that he was supposedly an agent for the Israeli Mossad but quit when his wife was killed in a terrorist attack in front of his eyes. It had happened quite a few years ago, but most probably he burned out after the fact. That was also very understandable, but it was just a news item. Information from the CIA showed that it couldn’t be certain that he actually had quit. I understood the pressure that must have put on him, to lose someone in such violent circumstances. That was why I had taken him to the pub. I wanted to see how he would react, because if he managed to hold out, he was the perfect person for me. I was a little disappointed that he felt a bit uncomfortable now. I reminded myself that uneasiness did not always indicate a loss of control.

“How are we going to follow the money trail?’ he inquired.

“We have already started doing so. Actually, when Murat arrived in the country he was flagged as a ‘troublemaker’ and he became a target to be followed.” I could tell him that that was when I first found out about Gail’s questionable social contacts. I could have shown him a photo of her from the FBI file, in a very revealing evening dress, one I would never have believed she would have worn, with Murat’s arm around her shoulders. Gail Ashton, an outstanding physics and chemistry student, hanging around with a charming playboy criminal with close ties with to the world’s most renowned mafioso. I could have revealed all of it, but I chose not to do it at this point.

“The tracking stopped shortly after he started working for his uncle in his legitimate business,” I told Guy. “We didn’t have a reason anymore.” I didn’t tell him that while the official tracking had stopped, mine had only begun, because it was my sister in the picture with him. “The tracking stopped but has now been renewed. At least we are not starting at point zero, because we have had already a few entries about his whereabouts. Right now, his bank account, his uncle’s and the casino’s are undergoing forensic analysis. We are searching for large amounts of money entering into one of the accounts recently. So far the reports haven’t found anything like that.”

“And if it was in cash?”

“At the same time, we are looking for an amount he used to buy the equipment. That doesn’t exist either.”

“Could it be that this deal Murat Lenika is trying to close has something to do with the robbery in Germany a few months ago? A container of new sniper rifles was stolen from there,” Guy said.

That was a piece of information I wasn’t even sure that the CIA knew about. I assume he released that information only because Jonathan’s life was at stake. What did that mean about Guy? That he was losing control or that he didn’t care what his bosses in the Mossad think?

“A robbery of sniper rifles. Mmm. I need to check if we have information about the subject,” I said, reaching for my phone to text my assistant in the office. I said, “This story is going to be complicated. Murat Lenika is the descendant of the Albanian mafia boss. He is also trying to get his hands into everything. If he has also attempted trafficking in drugs, it would make sense for him to pay drug money for the firearms. We should know about it soon enough.”

“If it took me half an hour to find out that he is dealing drugs in the casino, I am sure someone in your team must know about it.”

Guy was not stupid, and I had to be very careful if I wanted his help. He was right, I knew that Murat Lenika had wanted to become a distributor on a large scale long before this affair started, but I didn’t admit this to Guy. Instead, I stated, “The difference between someone who deals in his casino or wants to be a large-scale distributor is huge. It is almost the difference between personal use and commercial use.”

“Or between a retailer and a wholesaler…” He looked at me and added, “Or the difference between someone who closes a complicated transaction and someone who hosts people in his casino and offers them drugs.”

“Exactly. And the one who knew if he had become someone substantial in the drug market, the one who knew how the transactions were settled and with whom, would be Zorro.”

“Where can Zorro be found?” he asked.

“The last time we had heard from Zorro was from Colombia, over a year ago. In a closed party given by the head of the cartel. This is information we managed to get from someone we managed to smuggle in there. By the way, not many people associate with both the Colombian cartel -- the FARK -- and with the Mexican cartel, but Zorro does. Generally, a meeting between them had potential to end in world war, and those who had contacts with one could not associate with the other. I took a small sip of my whiskey. I wanted a moment to think about how I was going to recruit him to my personal mission without him knowing it. “We will need to go to Miami. There’s a strip joint that Zorro used to own, five or so years ago.”

“That doesn’t sound very