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Authors: Steve Martini
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Having divined the problem, Bruno’s brain didn’t allow for conflicting messages even from the patient. “You want a woman, I get you one. Beautiful woman. No problem.”
“I doubt he’s ever been with a girl,” said Leffort.
“Fine. You want a boy, I get you . . .”
“No!!!” Raji glared up at Bruno and shouted. “You’re not listening.”
“OK, OK. You want more than one woman? I can do that.”
Raji just sat on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head.
“How many can you get?” asked Leffort. “Women, I mean.” Leffort knew there had to be piercing and tattoo parlors in Paris. Just think what he was missing.
Bruno shot him a harsh glance that crossed the room like a bolt of lightning. The two Americans were driving him crazy. He couldn’t wait for Liquida to arrive so the Mexican could take them off his hands.
“You, outside!” Bruno gestured to Leffort. “You stay here. I’ll be back in a minute,” he told Raji.
Croleva and Leffort stepped from the room into the hallway outside. Bruno said something in Russian to the man seated in the chair at the end of the hall. They had already bolted the window in Raji’s room closed so that he couldn’t crawl out on the ledge and try to escape.
Leffort and Bruno walked a short distance down the hall, out of earshot of Bruno’s thug sitting in the chair.
“We are going to have to put something in his food to sedate him,” said Bruno.
“You think that’s necessary?” said Leffort.
“Yes. And you will have to keep an eye on him.”
“Why me?”
“Because you are his friend. He trusts you.”
“Right,” said Leffort.
“And because, if you had done your job, you would already have the rest of the materials, in which case we wouldn’t need him any longer.” Bruno was talking about the final targeting programs. “You are certain that he has them?” Croleva watched Leffort’s face closely as he asked the question.
“Yes. Absolutely. He has them. I know it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me. And because he ran the programs and plugged in the targeting data for a computer simulation the day before we left. And it worked.”
Bruno studied Leffort’s eyes for any hint of deception.
“He completed the programs three weeks ago.” Leffort couldn’t afford to show even the slightest equivocation on this. If Bruno thought for a moment that Raji didn’t have the final targeting software, he would kill both of them now and make whatever excuses were necessary to his clients. Without that software the rest of the project materials were worthless, and both Leffort and Bruno knew it.
“You say he loaded them into a computer for the simulation? Then why couldn’t you get them from the computer?”
“Because he deleted the software the moment the test was done. He’s no fool,” said Leffort.
“Then where are they? We have been through his luggage. They are not there. At least not that we could see. You have checked his working papers and you say they are not there. I have had my people scan everything from his laptop. There is nothing there. So maybe he left the programs behind. That could be the reason he wants to go home. He knows he cannot deliver when the time comes.”
“No, he either has them or he has access to them at some remote location online,” said Leffort. “He would never have gotten on that plane otherwise. I’m sure of that.”
“So where are they?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” said Leffort.
“You had better,” said Bruno. “I cannot allow you to leave Paris until I am certain that you have them. Do you understand?”
Leffort nodded.
* * *
Liquida had two more tasks to complete before leaving Dubai. The first was done using one of the hotel’s guest computers. He typed up an anonymous letter addressed to the U.S. Embassy in Dubai. It was one of Liquida’s “white-glove specials,” for he always wore gloves when he printed them out.
“I doubt he’s ever been with a girl,” said Leffort.
“Fine. You want a boy, I get you . . .”
“No!!!” Raji glared up at Bruno and shouted. “You’re not listening.”
“OK, OK. You want more than one woman? I can do that.”
Raji just sat on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head.
“How many can you get?” asked Leffort. “Women, I mean.” Leffort knew there had to be piercing and tattoo parlors in Paris. Just think what he was missing.
Bruno shot him a harsh glance that crossed the room like a bolt of lightning. The two Americans were driving him crazy. He couldn’t wait for Liquida to arrive so the Mexican could take them off his hands.
“You, outside!” Bruno gestured to Leffort. “You stay here. I’ll be back in a minute,” he told Raji.
Croleva and Leffort stepped from the room into the hallway outside. Bruno said something in Russian to the man seated in the chair at the end of the hall. They had already bolted the window in Raji’s room closed so that he couldn’t crawl out on the ledge and try to escape.
Leffort and Bruno walked a short distance down the hall, out of earshot of Bruno’s thug sitting in the chair.
“We are going to have to put something in his food to sedate him,” said Bruno.
“You think that’s necessary?” said Leffort.
“Yes. And you will have to keep an eye on him.”
“Why me?”
“Because you are his friend. He trusts you.”
“Right,” said Leffort.
“And because, if you had done your job, you would already have the rest of the materials, in which case we wouldn’t need him any longer.” Bruno was talking about the final targeting programs. “You are certain that he has them?” Croleva watched Leffort’s face closely as he asked the question.
“Yes. Absolutely. He has them. I know it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me. And because he ran the programs and plugged in the targeting data for a computer simulation the day before we left. And it worked.”
Bruno studied Leffort’s eyes for any hint of deception.
“He completed the programs three weeks ago.” Leffort couldn’t afford to show even the slightest equivocation on this. If Bruno thought for a moment that Raji didn’t have the final targeting software, he would kill both of them now and make whatever excuses were necessary to his clients. Without that software the rest of the project materials were worthless, and both Leffort and Bruno knew it.
“You say he loaded them into a computer for the simulation? Then why couldn’t you get them from the computer?”
“Because he deleted the software the moment the test was done. He’s no fool,” said Leffort.
“Then where are they? We have been through his luggage. They are not there. At least not that we could see. You have checked his working papers and you say they are not there. I have had my people scan everything from his laptop. There is nothing there. So maybe he left the programs behind. That could be the reason he wants to go home. He knows he cannot deliver when the time comes.”
“No, he either has them or he has access to them at some remote location online,” said Leffort. “He would never have gotten on that plane otherwise. I’m sure of that.”
“So where are they?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” said Leffort.
“You had better,” said Bruno. “I cannot allow you to leave Paris until I am certain that you have them. Do you understand?”
Leffort nodded.
* * *
Liquida had two more tasks to complete before leaving Dubai. The first was done using one of the hotel’s guest computers. He typed up an anonymous letter addressed to the U.S. Embassy in Dubai. It was one of Liquida’s “white-glove specials,” for he always wore gloves when he printed them out.
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