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

the car, but it entered an underground parking lot and hasn’t been seen since. They may have left it there or changed cars. At the moment we are trying to find a connection between the owner of the car and the owner of the property there. If we find them, we will continue our search there.

“I can’t carry on sitting here without doing anything. What’s happening with the investigation into the hostile factors towards Israel?”

“A special unit is already working on it, but as you most likely know, there are many agents who fit the description, who are hostile towards Israel. I think we should face facts.” I stopped with a dramatic pause and stared at him, then said, frankly, “Our time is limited. The boy is in real danger and we -- you and I -- really need to think outside the box.” I used his words to make him think it was his idea.

“So, you suggest we leave now to try and find Zorro?”

“That is exactly what I was planning to do. Because none of her club workers would agree to talk to a representative of the law, both of us should go. You are definitely not a law representative and I… Well, I have a history with her that can be proven.” I laid a hand on his and added, quietly, “If we do it unofficially, we could get information out of them willingly or unwillingly.”

I raised my hand and attempted to catch the waitress’s eye to signal for the bill, but by the amount of beers on her tray, it seemed she was too busy to make her way over.

Guy noticed that as well and without hesitation, put down a fifty-dollar bill and mumbled, “The tip’s included. Let’s go.”

On our way to the car I casually added, “This is not going to be a day trip. Would you like to pack an overnight bag?”

“I will, but more importantly, I must inform my brother and sister-in-law, Michelle, where I am going.”

“Yes. It’ll make it easier for the official channels. They need not worry about someone else disappearing under their noses.” I took out my cell phone and dialed. “Speaking of official channels,” I said, casually, “I need your passport number to allow you access to certain places.”

Murat Lenika,

New York City, November 11, 2015, 5:30 p.m.

“It’s Dubroshin, boss.” He needn’t have introduced himself. I recognized his voice, though not the telephone number. He never used the same phone for a long period of time. I asked, “What’s new?”

“They are planning to go to Miami and to look for someone named Zorro.”

I had heard that name before. I couldn’t place where and from whom, but the nickname sat on the tip of my tongue. Maybe I was too stoned to remember properly. “How are they doing it?”

“Doing what?”

“The way? How are they planning on getting there?”

“By helicopter. We followed them until the airstrip. It’s very well guarded so we couldn’t get in.”

“Good work.” I said, then asked, “Do we have anyone in Miami who could keep tailing them?”

“I’ll check. It’s a few hour’s flight. It will give me some time to arrange something.”

I praised him again. I hung up and handed the phone back to Aldo. Before his hands closed around the phone, I had remembered where I’d heard that name before. I really was stoned, but she was the kind of person one doesn’t soon forget. We had been at a strip bar, and she had been walking amongst the guests. She was so beautiful and yet so remote that I’d wanted to fuck her immediately. When she passed by me, I pulled her towards me and grabbed her ass. It was solid and muscular. A moment later, and I still didn’t know how until this day, a knife was pinned to my dick. I immediately lifted my hands in the air, a sign of surrender, and took a step back. She had turned to me and said, “Only because it is your first time here, you can leave with your dick still attached.”

Later on, I found out that she had quite a few nicknames. There were those who called her “Xena the warrior,” there were those who called her “Iceberg,” and someone called her “Zorro.”

Afterwards, I found out who her boyfriend was, and I realized that her cutting off my dick would have been nothing compared to what he was capable of.

I took the phone back and dialed.

“Amigo,” I said with a satisfied smile, “How are you?”

“Well, well. My friend. I heard you have been very busy lately.”

“Busy but under control. I have news for you.”

“Tell me.”

“My enemies are your enemies and my enemies are looking for your Zorro. So, you should look out.”

The news was received with silence. For a moment I thought the call had disconnected, but I heard him breathing so I waited. He was most probably likely. Maybe something had happened between them.

“Keep me informed if you hear anything new.” He didn’t sound like a friend anymore. That was an order.

Laura Ashton,

Philadelphia, on the way to Miami,

November 11, 2015, 5:45 p.m.

I had three airstrips at my disposal: D.C., New York and Philly. I chose Philly because of the urgency. I wanted to catch Guy while he was still enthusiastic about the idea of the trip, before he thought too much about being far away from his worried brother. By the time we arrived at the strip, a helicopter was waiting for us, fully fueled. This affair gave me access to all the information and supplies, while also enabling me to promote my personal interests. We sat down and took off immediately. Because I didn’t want to talk about my plans in an aircraft which could be bugged, I closed my eyes and used the time to catch up on much-needed sleep. Three hours and eighteen seconds later, we landed in Miami.

A car was waiting for us at the southern airstrip. We left the aircraft hurriedly and made our way