Texas Tango: A Flint Rock Novel (16 page)

Flint paused, looked at Ava and said “I think Ava may have insights about that.”

She spoke without hesitation.
 
“He is clever and accustomed to wining.
 
He hates Flint by now, and he is not worried about me because I am a woman.
 
I assume that he intends now to kill Gina, Murphy, and Mary.
 
He thinks his success depends on his leaving no one alive who can point a finger at him.
 
He won’t cancel or defer his Rome meeting because he is in a hurry and he is arrogant.
 
He will not waste this opportunity to gain a big control advantage in Latin American oil.
 
He intends to be prime minister of Pakistan in a selection process that will happen in less than ten days
..
 
Pakistan needs oil.
 
How about it Mary?
 
How much oil is there in Latin America?”

“In my opinion,” Mary said, “a lot.
 
At least twice as much as the current guesses of most geologists.”

Mary paused and Murphy spoke.
 
“We must take Bahaar out now or he will kill each of us as quickly as he can.
 
Then there will be no stopping him.
 
I say it’s time to go to Rome.”

Fred spoke to Murphy.
 
“You are no doubt right, but Mary is still injured and so are you.
 
I think it is better if Flint and I go to Rome and the rest of you stay here.”

“Yes,” Ava said, except Fred you should stay and I will go with Flint to Rome.
 
Bahaar underestimates me but he will shoot you on sight.
 
And anyway you have to remain here to get the antidote and Murph must be here because he knows the agent who is to deliver it.”

Flint pushed his chair back and stood.
 
“None of you should leave here.
 
Murph, Fred, and Mary are medically ruled out from going with me.
 
Ava is needed here for her medical knowledge.
 
Gina is the only one who knows the angel trumpet society members and they may try something more to earn Bahaar’s money.
 
If I walk out of here now, I can get a bullet train and be in Rome by noon.”

“Your logic is good, Flint,” declared Gina, “but I am going with you.
 
If anyone other than Murphy’s colleague shows up here, I’d say shoot him.
 
Turns out Fred and Mary and Murphy are all acquainted with hand guns.
 
I think you, Flint, need someone who knows Italian and who thinks like Machiavelli.”

No one argued with Gina.
 
Flint grabbed his blazer with the .45 still in its side pocket.
 
Gina called a taxi and double checked her purse to see that the Baby Browning .25 was there.
 
She and Flint slipped out through the main gate.
 
The 10:50 Eurostar got to Rome at noon.
 
They stepped out of a Rome taxi at 12:22
P.M.
and walked up the Spanish Steps.

Chapter 13

Laura Syms was not an early riser by preference.
 
On workdays she set an alarm to wake up at 7:30.
 
Then she hit snooze a couple of times and grabbed coffee at a McDonald’s drive through on her way to the office a few minutes late.

Tuesday morning, January 4, was different.
 
She left Texas Ranger headquarters Monday after seeing Flint join forces with Greek military police at the Parthenon.
 
She had then lingered over dinner with Zeta and Christine at Casa Chapala.
 
By the time she got to bed, it was after midnight.
 
Then at a few minutes after 2:00
A.M.
, she went from sound sleep to wide-eyed awake, sat straight up in her king sized bed.
 
She had heard a voice clearly say, “Fred is in danger; Ava needs you.”

Laura turned on her night stand light.
 
She could see that she was the only person in the room.
 
Yet the voice had not been a whisper.
 
It filled all the space in Laura’s ears.
 
Unlike her earlier premonition of three not quite distinct words, this time she was clear about what she had heard.

Laura lay back, stared at the circle of light on the ceiling projected by the lamp next to her.
 
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked out loud.
 
Who are you?”
 
Her questions produced no answers.
 
The room was utterly silent.

A name floated quietly to Laura’s attention.
 
John Bentley.
 
The only John Bentley she knew was a law school classmate.
 
He had been in three classes with her but had changed to part time because he needed to work to afford SMU’s tuition.
 
He was good looking, well spoken, and a couple of years older than Laura.
 
He had found a part-time job with a shoe string air freight company that took spur of the moment flights for international delivery companies like Fed Ex and DHL when they had more freight than their own planes could handle.

Laura said “John Bentley” to her mobile phone, heard it ring.
 
He answered almost immediately.

“Laura Syms.
 
You are up late,” he said.

“Hey, John.
 
I’m afraid I am awake early.
 
Why didn’t I find you asleep?”

“I am headed out to fly a 757 full of freight to Rome.
 
I am about to drive from my parents’ house in Austin to DFW.”

“Want some company?
 
I can’t sleep.”

It was against company policy.
 
But John liked Laura and he was thinking of calling her for help in preparing for the Texas bar exam.
 
“If you are serious,” he said, “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.
 
What’s your address?”

“I’ll be ready,” Laura replied and gave him directions to her house.
 
She was out of the shower and into her most comfortable jeans and an expensive raglan sleeved, pullover sweater in twelve minutes.
 
The steel blue sweater matched her eye color.
 
She wrote a note to Shana, put her car and house keys next to the coffee maker on top of the note on the kitchen counter.
 
John drove his Porsche a little over the speed limit all the way to Dallas.
 

At 6:45
A.M.
the Boeing 757 lifted off runway 18 Left at DFW.
 
John shut the engines down at 6:52
P.M.
, Rome time.
 
Laura gave John a hug, having already promised she would help him prepare for the bar exam, ran to catch the 7:07 Leonardo Express train for its thirty-one minute nonstop ride to Termini, Rome’s central train station.
 
That gave her twenty minutes, plenty of time to make the 8:00
P.M.
Eurostar bullet train to Naples.

Laura liked Italy.
 
She had intended to use French to satisfy her baccalaureate degree language requirement.
 
However a schedule conflict caused her to take two years of Italian instead.
 
She did not consider herself fluent but had little difficulty understanding everyday conversation.
 
The two months she spent in Italy between her junior and senior years had given her a good accent and had put her at ease with riding trains and buses.

Chapter 14

Mohammed Abida Bahaar knew Flint had eluded his Parthenon set up when the driver phoned to say that Flint had grabbed one of their guns.
 
That was just before Flint smashed the man’s cell phone.
 
When Flint and Ava left Bahaar’s hotel suite, Jafe called Bahaar.
 
When the pair got in a taxi at the Bretagne, one of the white skirt Greek military police men told Mo.
 
The soldier did not know where they were headed.
 
Bahaar didn’t worry.
 
Another informant called him when Flint turned the Sabreliner’s transponder on as he and Ava took off from Athens.
 
Bahaar knew when and where they landed and that a taxi had taken them to Gina’s house in Naples.

Hours later, when Flint and Gina got out of the taxi and into the high speed train to Rome, Bahaar had a call.
 
As they walked up the Spanish Steps, Bahaar had another call.

Near the Steps, at 22 Via Vitorio, Gina and Flint ducked into Ciro’s, a pleasantly busy restaurant.
 
Flint took a table; Gina walked to the bathroom.
 
Flint left a voice mail for Zeta, telling her the name of the restaurant where he planned to leave his phone hidden.
 

Gina was back in a few minutes, her diminutive face nearly hidden by the nun’s habit she had put on.
 
Flint left his smart phone behind some chocolate candy on a display.
 
Bahaar got a call telling him that Flint’s phone GPS indicated he was having lunch at Ciro’s.

Flint and Gina walked to a bus stop, caught a large diesel bus to Vatican City.
 
From there, they walked six minutes to the Orange Hotel.
 

Gina went straight to the check-in desk.
 
On the train from Naples, she had memorized the five men’s names, and she had read Zeta’s concise biographies.
 
She asked the desk clerk to tell her who had already arrived.
 
She said she was there under the auspices of Mohammed Bahaar.
 

The clerk told her that Davi Ruiz was in his room, having checked in four hours earlier.
 
The clerk told her that the gentleman she could see in the hotel’s coffee shop adjoining the front desk was Arcana Inca del Sol from Peru.
 
And the man standing to Gina’s right putting his credit card away was Catunta Amaru from Bolivia.
 
He further informed Gina that Mr. Bahaar was due momentarily with the Argentine guest, Signore Lucho Blanco, and Jonathan Temple from Suriname was due around 5:00
P.M.

Gina blessed the clerk and made the sign of the cross as a benediction to their conversation.
 
At that moment a priest walked through the entry doors.
 
The clerk thanked Gina for blessing him and added, “I see the Pontifical messenger is here.”
 
He addressed the priest.
 
“Monsignor this nun is Signore Bahaar’s emissary.
 
She can relay your message about tonight’s meeting arrangements.
 
I am now going off duty.”

Gina kissed the monsignor’s ring as she bowed.

“Please tell Signore Mohammed,” the priest said to her, “that the head of the Vatican bank will confer with y’all tonight at 8:00.
 
A guide will meet you at the front entrance to St. Peter’s Basilica ten minutes before that time.
 
It is important to be punctual.
 
The Holy Father is very heavily booked, but he may spare a few minutes to greet y’all personally.”

“Thank you Father,” Gina said bowing again.
 
Your accent sounds like Texas.
 
Please meet my Texan friend, Mr. Flint Rock.”
 
Flint was already walking her way as she motioned for him to approach. Flint and the monsignor shook hands.
 
Flint had overheard Gina’s question about which part of Texas the monsignor came from.

“I was born on a ranch between Brownwood and San Angelo out in West Texas,” Flint stated.
 
“Which part of the state do you hail from?”

The monsignor smiled broadly.
 
“I am from the same part of the planet.
 
Born in San Angelo.
 
Graduated from the College of St. Thomas Moore in Ft. Worth.
 
Came to Rome for graduate work and ended up liaison between the College of Cardinals, His Holiness the Pope, and the Vatican bank.
 
Of course I am available to the Holy Father any time he wants to speak with me.”