The pain took forever to let up, the adrenaline eased its
way out of her system.
She found the danger Esmerelda had warned
her about.
Chapter 16
Denise Hall ordered a glass of brandy. She
wanted her nerves rested for this meeting. She sat at the bar of an
American version of a pub. This one reeked like the cook hadn't
cleaned a thing in months.
She looked around at the half empty pub and
thought about all the deals she had done in the past. This one was
going to be her biggest sale to her richest and most notorious
contact.
She lifted her sleeve back and read the
time. The pub would be closing soon. She was thirty minutes early
for the meeting. Good. You didn't want to be late for Mr. Ward.
Everyone in the State knew that.
Her stomach moved around at the smell of
greasy food. Something unidentifiable was burning on the stove in
the back. She took a deep swig of her drink.
The front door opened and two large men
dressed in suits and matching crew cuts, entered the pub. They
looked around until both pairs of eyes stopped on Denise. Then they
continued scanning the small restaurant.
A waitress approached them only to be waved
off.
Denise took another long sip and watched the
men who had taken a position on either side of the door. It looked
rather odd; two sentries guarding the inside of a restaurant.
She smirked at the thought of how nervous
she was. She had dealt with Mr. Ward on a number of other
arrangements in the past. She knew she was safe. Why would this
sale be any different? She also understood the routine. If she
wanted to sell to him she had to play along.
She didn't have to like it, just play
along.
He was the kind of man who pitied the mob
and they knew it.
Or maybe she was being too kind, she
thought. He was short, no more than five feet tall, with a large
net worth. The kind that required better security than the
President.
Sometimes Denise wondered about the ethics
of what she was doing. And sometimes she wondered about people in
India. Who cared about everyone else? Look out for number one and
in the end you die. Nothing else to worry about. Maybe that was why
she didn't talk to her mother anymore.
She took another drink from her glass as one
of the men at the door responded to a cell phone. He put it away
and nodded to the other. They broke from sentry duty and walked to
Denise's table.
"Come with us," the taller one grunted.
It was always the same.
"Let me finish my drink."
"Now. Stand."
Again, just like before. She wouldn't let
them take her dignity. It was only a business transaction. She put
the glass to her lips.
One of the men reached under her arm, half
lifting her to her feet. She was hustled to the door and taken
outside to the cool early July morning, her drink in hand.
Mr. Ward's car was not there. No surprise.
The trio turned right and then into an alleyway. Another larger man
stood in front of a back door of what looked like a Chinese
restaurant. They hustled her in and down a dark set of stairs. So Hollywood , she thought.
They entered a dank basement. Single bulbs
hung with strings attached. Either the walls were painted black and
were decaying after years of moisture or they were covered in mold.
It was too dim to see for sure.
Mr. Ward sat behind a table near the far
wall. He was alone, watching her approach. If she hadn't dealt with
him before, this would be quite intimidating. Even so, she felt
fear creep along her nerve endings.
"Sit," he said, gesturing with his hand to
the wooden grade school chair in front of the table.
The apes on each side of her fell away and
she once again had full use of her feet. She set the brandy glass
on the table.
"Do you have the package?" Mr. Ward
asked.
He was one of those men who always talked
with a smile. Like he was the only one who knew the inside
joke.
"I got confirmation earlier. That's why I
called to meet you."
He stared at her through sunglasses so dark
she couldn't see his eyes.
Denise thought the tough guy
way out of her system.
She found the danger Esmerelda had warned
her about.
Chapter 16
Denise Hall ordered a glass of brandy. She
wanted her nerves rested for this meeting. She sat at the bar of an
American version of a pub. This one reeked like the cook hadn't
cleaned a thing in months.
She looked around at the half empty pub and
thought about all the deals she had done in the past. This one was
going to be her biggest sale to her richest and most notorious
contact.
She lifted her sleeve back and read the
time. The pub would be closing soon. She was thirty minutes early
for the meeting. Good. You didn't want to be late for Mr. Ward.
Everyone in the State knew that.
Her stomach moved around at the smell of
greasy food. Something unidentifiable was burning on the stove in
the back. She took a deep swig of her drink.
The front door opened and two large men
dressed in suits and matching crew cuts, entered the pub. They
looked around until both pairs of eyes stopped on Denise. Then they
continued scanning the small restaurant.
A waitress approached them only to be waved
off.
Denise took another long sip and watched the
men who had taken a position on either side of the door. It looked
rather odd; two sentries guarding the inside of a restaurant.
She smirked at the thought of how nervous
she was. She had dealt with Mr. Ward on a number of other
arrangements in the past. She knew she was safe. Why would this
sale be any different? She also understood the routine. If she
wanted to sell to him she had to play along.
She didn't have to like it, just play
along.
He was the kind of man who pitied the mob
and they knew it.
Or maybe she was being too kind, she
thought. He was short, no more than five feet tall, with a large
net worth. The kind that required better security than the
President.
Sometimes Denise wondered about the ethics
of what she was doing. And sometimes she wondered about people in
India. Who cared about everyone else? Look out for number one and
in the end you die. Nothing else to worry about. Maybe that was why
she didn't talk to her mother anymore.
She took another drink from her glass as one
of the men at the door responded to a cell phone. He put it away
and nodded to the other. They broke from sentry duty and walked to
Denise's table.
"Come with us," the taller one grunted.
It was always the same.
"Let me finish my drink."
"Now. Stand."
Again, just like before. She wouldn't let
them take her dignity. It was only a business transaction. She put
the glass to her lips.
One of the men reached under her arm, half
lifting her to her feet. She was hustled to the door and taken
outside to the cool early July morning, her drink in hand.
Mr. Ward's car was not there. No surprise.
The trio turned right and then into an alleyway. Another larger man
stood in front of a back door of what looked like a Chinese
restaurant. They hustled her in and down a dark set of stairs. So Hollywood , she thought.
They entered a dank basement. Single bulbs
hung with strings attached. Either the walls were painted black and
were decaying after years of moisture or they were covered in mold.
It was too dim to see for sure.
Mr. Ward sat behind a table near the far
wall. He was alone, watching her approach. If she hadn't dealt with
him before, this would be quite intimidating. Even so, she felt
fear creep along her nerve endings.
"Sit," he said, gesturing with his hand to
the wooden grade school chair in front of the table.
The apes on each side of her fell away and
she once again had full use of her feet. She set the brandy glass
on the table.
"Do you have the package?" Mr. Ward
asked.
He was one of those men who always talked
with a smile. Like he was the only one who knew the inside
joke.
"I got confirmation earlier. That's why I
called to meet you."
He stared at her through sunglasses so dark
she couldn't see his eyes.
Denise thought the tough guy
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