Have you met our host Mohammed Bahaar yet?”
“Just this moment, Jonathan,” Davi replied.
“Any impressions?”
“Several.
Jonathan waited, then spoke. “Ah—you are not free to speak just now?”
“Sim.” Davi said the most usual word for yes in Portuguese.
“Got it. See you in a few hours. Bom dia, good morning.”
“Later,” Davi responded.
Bahaar escorted Davi to a seriously stretched limo waiting near the taxi stand. On the way to Hotel L’Orange , located a ten minute walk from the Vatican, Mo Bahaar regaled Davi with talk of oil quadrupling in price in the near future.
“My dear chap,” Bahaar said in his most cultivated English accent. “You know that OPEC, the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, at present has twelve members. Only two of those—Ecuador and Venezuela—are in the western hemisphere. That made sense a couple of decades back, but there will soon be discovered more oil reserves in the Americas than in all of the rest of the planet. I have two goals. One is to deny the United States access to as much of this oil as I can. The other is to acquire more money than any person in history has been able to do. In the process I propose to make you and a small number of other men richer than you have believed it possible to be. What do you think of that?”
Davi said with conviction, “the aristocracy in Saudi Arabia controls OPEC overtly and behind the scenes. It is time for a counter force.”
“My thoughts exactly,” echoed Bahaar.
Davi and Mo expanded their shared understandings on the forty-seven minute drive to the Orange Hotel. The time was 8:36 A.M. at the front desk. As Davi headed for his room after check in, Jafe appeared with the stunning blond named Pagana.
“Excuse me, Mr. Davi Ruiz?” asked Jafe.
“Yes.”
“This is Miss Pagana Sarantos. Mr. Bahaar has asked her to make sure that you are comfortable.”
Pagana curtsied nearly imperceptibly as she extended her right hand. Davi took it, kissed it with a bow. Mo was gone. Jafe disappeared.
Meanwhile, in Naples, Mary and Ava joined Flint who was drinking coffee with Gina and Murphy in Gina’s kitchen. Flint had explained his experience with the Greek military police and their discovery of the Russian truth drug. Ava added her account of being forced to hypnotize Pagana to have sex with four men.
“So this whole Athens thing,” Murphy said, “had nothing to do with Freddy or Gina or Stevenson Karbouski or the angel trumpet society? It’s simply a coincidence?”
Silence. No one answered. Then Murphy’s phone sounded.
“Oh, hello Harry,” he said. Two and a half minutes elapsed in silence as Murphy listened. He hung up. Everyone was looking at him. “Harry’s Texas Ranger colleague Zeta thinks it is all connected. She believes Mohammed Bahaar knows about Gina’s and Ava’s and Freddy’s problem with the angel trumpeters and that he is using it as a smokescreen to hide his move to use Ava to help him corner the global market in crude oil. Zeta is certain that the one hypnosis session in Athens is not all Bahaar has in mind for Ava.”
Flint spoke as Murphy paused. “Bahaar for sure knows that I am still alive and that Ava left Athens with me. We should assume that Bahaar may be able to track one or more of us by our mobile devices.”
“I agree,” Murphy said, “and there are two more things from Zeta by way of Harry. She has tracked a six million dollar money shift from one of Bahaar’s secret accounts to the head of the angel trumpet group. That happened about one hour ago. And the other item is that Bahaar is flying some men to Rome for a meeting in the Hotel L’Orange about three blocks from the Vatican. The blond woman whom Ava hypnotized is there.”
Gina spoke
“Just this moment, Jonathan,” Davi replied.
“Any impressions?”
“Several.
Jonathan waited, then spoke. “Ah—you are not free to speak just now?”
“Sim.” Davi said the most usual word for yes in Portuguese.
“Got it. See you in a few hours. Bom dia, good morning.”
“Later,” Davi responded.
Bahaar escorted Davi to a seriously stretched limo waiting near the taxi stand. On the way to Hotel L’Orange , located a ten minute walk from the Vatican, Mo Bahaar regaled Davi with talk of oil quadrupling in price in the near future.
“My dear chap,” Bahaar said in his most cultivated English accent. “You know that OPEC, the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, at present has twelve members. Only two of those—Ecuador and Venezuela—are in the western hemisphere. That made sense a couple of decades back, but there will soon be discovered more oil reserves in the Americas than in all of the rest of the planet. I have two goals. One is to deny the United States access to as much of this oil as I can. The other is to acquire more money than any person in history has been able to do. In the process I propose to make you and a small number of other men richer than you have believed it possible to be. What do you think of that?”
Davi said with conviction, “the aristocracy in Saudi Arabia controls OPEC overtly and behind the scenes. It is time for a counter force.”
“My thoughts exactly,” echoed Bahaar.
Davi and Mo expanded their shared understandings on the forty-seven minute drive to the Orange Hotel. The time was 8:36 A.M. at the front desk. As Davi headed for his room after check in, Jafe appeared with the stunning blond named Pagana.
“Excuse me, Mr. Davi Ruiz?” asked Jafe.
“Yes.”
“This is Miss Pagana Sarantos. Mr. Bahaar has asked her to make sure that you are comfortable.”
Pagana curtsied nearly imperceptibly as she extended her right hand. Davi took it, kissed it with a bow. Mo was gone. Jafe disappeared.
Meanwhile, in Naples, Mary and Ava joined Flint who was drinking coffee with Gina and Murphy in Gina’s kitchen. Flint had explained his experience with the Greek military police and their discovery of the Russian truth drug. Ava added her account of being forced to hypnotize Pagana to have sex with four men.
“So this whole Athens thing,” Murphy said, “had nothing to do with Freddy or Gina or Stevenson Karbouski or the angel trumpet society? It’s simply a coincidence?”
Silence. No one answered. Then Murphy’s phone sounded.
“Oh, hello Harry,” he said. Two and a half minutes elapsed in silence as Murphy listened. He hung up. Everyone was looking at him. “Harry’s Texas Ranger colleague Zeta thinks it is all connected. She believes Mohammed Bahaar knows about Gina’s and Ava’s and Freddy’s problem with the angel trumpeters and that he is using it as a smokescreen to hide his move to use Ava to help him corner the global market in crude oil. Zeta is certain that the one hypnosis session in Athens is not all Bahaar has in mind for Ava.”
Flint spoke as Murphy paused. “Bahaar for sure knows that I am still alive and that Ava left Athens with me. We should assume that Bahaar may be able to track one or more of us by our mobile devices.”
“I agree,” Murphy said, “and there are two more things from Zeta by way of Harry. She has tracked a six million dollar money shift from one of Bahaar’s secret accounts to the head of the angel trumpet group. That happened about one hour ago. And the other item is that Bahaar is flying some men to Rome for a meeting in the Hotel L’Orange about three blocks from the Vatican. The blond woman whom Ava hypnotized is there.”
Gina spoke
Similar Books
