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

all over the world, with animals in his castle, with dangerous hobbies. Definitely a playboy and not a terrorist.”

“From the moment he landed?” I insisted. “Have you checked every minute?”

“We have checked. There are reports.”

“His conversations, emails… Everything is being monitored?”

She was silent and then cleared her throat. “I think I should remind you that you are in the United States of America and here we don’t listen in on private calls unless we have a justified cause.”

“So do you at least know where he is?”

She hesitated. “It seems quite difficult to track him.”

“Why?”

“Because he is always on the move. From area to area. His reports on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook don’t always coincide with his whereabouts. There is always a delay of a day or so. If there is a party, they take pictures and upload them later.”

“They?”

“Yes… Him, the models, his friends, his team. One never-ending party. He is living the good life, believe me.”

“What about his phones? Trace them the good, old-fashioned way. Not through social media. It’s selective, he shows only what he wants to expose.”

“We don’t have grounds to request a tap on his phone. And to trace him via his cell phone is a joke, as there are over a dozen phone numbers registered to his name.”

“I don’t understand…” I put my hand to my head. My hair was long. I liked it short and bristly. I hadn’t had time to have it trimmed before we’d left for Mexico. “Could you get back to me on the car registration?”

“In a few minutes.”

I put the cell phone down and closed my eyes. Not even two minutes had passed before the phone vibrated next to me. I opened my eyes and checked the number. It was Laura.

“Reporters.”

“I thought they put a ban on publicizing the affair?”

“They are not allowed to publish. That doesn’t mean that they aren’t allowed to collect information.” She was silent for a moment and then said, gently, “This is not Israel. Freedom of speech is upheld above all. It is hard to put an injunction for an indefinite period of time. Maybe you should warn your family.”

“Maybe I should,” I answered. I didn’t like the idea that, on top of the pressure they were feeling, there would be the added nuisance of invasive reporters. From my previous experience with Gabriella and her affair, I knew how much pressure the reporters could exert. I thanked Laura and hung up.

Another vibration sounded on the little dresser next to my bed. It was a text message saying, “She has woken up.” That was it. For the past few days, a temporary nurse had been working in a certain hospital, in a certain ward, where a battered woman named Ashley Holding had been hospitalized. She had been by her side in every free moment she had, so that she would know before the investigators outside that Ashley had awoken. Ashley was the last person to have seen Jonathan. He was kidnapped on his way to her, maybe even from her house. If someone knew what had happened there, it would be Ashley Holding.

I called the number that had sent the text message. “Can she talk?” Since the moment I had seen Ashley sprawled out on the floor in her tiny apartment, all I wanted to know was if she recognized her assailant, and if Jonathan had been with her.

“She says she has information…” The agent hesitated, then continued. “But she is insisting on talking only with you.”

“Will I be allowed to go into her room?”

“If you had asked me yesterday or the day before, I would have said that with the help of Gideoni, yes, maybe. But after the news from Paris I doubt even that would help.”

“I would have expected that they would want more cooperation. After all, we were the ones supplying the clear and sharp warnings.”

“In this war of egos of the intelligence agencies, there is only one winner and that is the enemy.”

I glanced at my watch. “Prepare a cover for me and we will meet at the morgue in thirty minutes.”

I got off the bed, got dressed and went downstairs. My brother also appeared, dressed. “Where are you going?” I asked.

“To the university.” His eyes were puffy, and the stubble covering his face gave him the look of a tired, old man. We were so similar that it sometimes felt like looking in a mirror and seeing oneself thirty years on. “I have a commitment I must honor.”

“But today is Saturday,” I said, noting the obvious, not understanding at all.

“Yes. Space doesn’t wait for weekdays for rare occurrences.” After a moment he added, “I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for,” I said, soothingly. His nerves, and everyone else’s, were on edge. I asked, “Will a cop escort you?”

“No, there is no need. I only need to return some papers and ensure sure my students make good use of their time with the telescope. Nothing will happen to me on the way and at the university they have guards.”

“I don’t like it,” I answered. He wouldn’t look at me. Something in my brother’s eyes told me another story, like a man lying to his wife that he’s not having an affair.

My brother lifted his head and looked if he was seeing me for the first time. “And where are you going, dressed like a groom in those pants? I think it is the first time I haven’t seen you in jeans.”

“Work,” I answered nonchalantly, then added, “We’ll see each other later.”

***

It was already one in the morning and the hospital parking lot was almost empty. I parked in a space reserved for doctors, and confidently made my way to the entrance. A cold wind hit my face and brought with it the first drops of rain that had once again begun to pour down. It was a good reason not to be outside. Near the entrance, three staff members stood smoking cigarettes, standing with their working gowns wrapped tightly around them, as