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

quickly understood not only that knowledge is power, but what kind of information she should gather. She mapped out all the new organizations working in the new and developing Russia for the Mossad. That I know for certain because when these organizations started to infiltrate the United States, we received strategic warnings.”

“How did she find herself here?”

“She arrived as a consultant. It was rumored that she was loaned to the FBI and was supposed to identify the shady businessman who tried to sell her. But before he could be arrested, he was found in his room with a stiletto thrust into his heart. That became her trademark. Excuse me, not hers, per se, because no-one could prove she was there at all. But whomever participated in that deal was killed in the same way.”

“So she became a hit man?

“I can’t say for certain. Probably a killer, but not a mercenary.” I looked at him and added, “Maybe over time she became a mercenary. The murder seemed to be a personal vendetta.” I glanced at Guy again. Information like this would deter anyone who wasn’t from the field, but he looked curious more than anything else.

“So, what drew her further into a life of crime?”

“When one businessman dies, another gains. Maybe at that point that someone decided to show his appreciation.”

“In what way?”

I looked at him, amused. “Is there a lack of ways? Money, the right ties, the right business in the right place… all that together birthed Zorro. The woman and the legend.”

“Let’s get back to the facts.”

“That’s exactly why we’re here. If someone knows who is buying from whom, it’ll be Zorro. I am assuming she will cooperate because of Gideoni. I expect her to lead us to the finance man in the right cartel or maybe to the head of the cartel. I expect to get information from them. Information about who paid for the last shipment. If our assumptions are correct, and we don’t see any money moving from within the casino or the account of Murat Lenika, the deal must have gone something like this: The terrorists paid the cartel. The cartel gave Murat Lenika the drugs. Murat Lenika passed the weapons to the terrorists. Depending on how the head of the cartel answers, it should lead us to the terrorist cell.”

“How does that help me find Jonathan?”

“When we close the noose around Lenika’s neck, it’ll be in his interest to give us something to reduce his punishment. He’ll return the kid.”

“It sounds like a long and winding route. Too long.”

I had broken him. I could see it in his eyes that he didn’t like the picture he’d envisioned in his head of Jonathan with a needle in his arm, not one bit. I knew then that he would do anything I requested of him. I said, “Don’t forget that while we pursue this lead, the other team is still searching for Jonathan.” I glanced toward him. “This is not the time to despair.”

“I am not giving up. I just don’t like it. I am not used to being in a situation like this.” After a short silence he confessed, “The last time I felt this helpless, I’d just lost my wife because of a bus that exploded next to her in Jerusalem. I have no intention of losing my nephew as well.”

“We will do everything in our power to make sure that won’t happen. If the long game is waiting for Lenika to make a mistake and then arresting and interrogating him, a respectful route, the other way, the shorter way, is through Zorro. Only through her is it possible to reach the head of the cartel, and we need to insist on speaking with him directly.” I looked at Guy and added a cautious explanation, “Because only then can we be certain that the information we receive is real. But…”

“There has to be a ‘but.’” He smiled. “‘Buts’ never deter me. I like to know about them.”

“But it is a dangerous route. To reach whoever is responsible for the biggest cartel in Mexico will not be a walk in the park.”

“If this is what’s needed to shorten procedures, then so be it.”

***

Twenty minutes later we arrived on Miami Beach strip, with its beautiful marinas. Running along the boardwalks were dozens of restaurants and hotels. The beach glowed with light, reflecting off the water in thousands of sparkles. The restaurants, whose revenue relied more on the locals than tourism, were situated further inland, in the maze of streets leading from the beach. Amongst them was the club that used to belong to Zorro.

“Do you know what we’re looking for, exactly?”

“Yes. We will get there. The place will seem closed, but it works round the clock. It is situated in a side unknown alley, known only to those who look for it. The situation is as such: I can’t go in without causing suspicion. It’s a stripper’s bar and women don’t go through the front door.”

“And you don’t feel like going through the artists entrance, straight onto the stage.”

“No! Absolutely not.” Her tone was indignant. For the first time in a long while, I genuinely smiled.

We arrived and I parked the car in the first spot I found. “It’s just around the corner, in the first alley. You will find a sign that says PC. That’s the only clue to the Pussycat. Not a very original name.”

“It may take some time,” he mumbled and opened the car door. A wave of humidity enveloped us, “Keep the aircon on.”

“Of course.”

“Keep the aircon on sounds nicer than ‘put the kettle on for coffee I’m coming over’. Don’t run away.”

“Don’t worry. Go and find Zorro.” I was relying on him to come back with some clue to help me with the rest of my plan. He left and the sentence ‘we have to reach him directly…’ kept reverberating through my head. The clues had led me to the conclusion that Gail was using drugs, and because of the drugs