The Mantis Page 3

  “Before I answer this, was I the first person you came to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Nathan asked, pushing her for information like he always did.

  “We have a good relationship,” Gabriella said simply. “You are someone I trust to not follow me when I’m done. You can let things go, and take what I can give for what it is.”

  “And others will not do that with you?”

  “No. They all want to try to follow me. Somehow, they think if they learn more about me, they can force me to join them,” Gabriella explained. “Most men can’t stand to think that they are losing to a woman, so they want the upper hand. They are not like you, Nathan.”

  “And how am I, Gabriella?” Nathan asked.

  “You are a secure man who knows who he is,” she replied with a coy smile. “You are confident, and know a good thing when you see it.”

  “I am also a man that does not fall for the soft, sexual glances and flirting of a trained women.”

  “No, you don’t,” Gabriella said. “You have always been a one-woman man. Bet you didn’t know that makes you more attractive.”

  “Forbidden fruit is always the most wanted.” Nathan smiled.

  “Are you able to tell me anything about the work you have for me?” she asked, slowly crossing her legs again.

  “I can give you the overview, and we can go from there,” Nathan said quietly. “We had a situation where it would be extremely embarrassing to have the information get out.”

  “Can you tell me what kind of information you’re talking about?” Gabriella asked.

  Pulling his chair closer to the woman, Nathan brushed up next to her and placed his arm around her, leaning in to kiss her on the neck. Moving in perfect synchronicity, Gabriella turned her head to the man, covering his mouth with her neck and making his lips unable to be read by any person that may be watching them.

  “We had a mark on a gentleman named, Akio Mari Moto, out of Japan. He was in their organized crime-ring. Then he went rogue and took the item they most prized. A suitcase atomic bomb. He’s on the run and ready to sell it to the top bidder. He got away from us. A rat in our system, who is now dead, tipped him off. I can text you the pictures that can help you find him and his last known whereabouts.”

  Pulling back from the woman, Nathan gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and let his hand run down the other side of her face.

  “You always know just what to say to make a girl smile,” Gabriella said, making eye contact again. “I can’t wait to hear from you to find out what you want me to do. Do you want my specialty?”

  “Yes, I think that would be best.” Nathan smiled, keeping the illusion of romance between the couple going, despite knowing they were talking about murder. “I have always loved when you do that.”

  “Well then, until we meet again.” Gabriella stood up from the table and bent at the waist, leaning in to give the older man a gentle kiss. Leaning into his ear, she whispered, “I notice you like us playing the role of the happy couple each time we meet. You are either the smartest agent in the world, or you like it.”

  Pulling back up to a standing position, Gabriella looked down at Nathan one last time.

  “Can’t it be both?” he said, with an ever-widening smile developing on his face.

  “I guess it can be.” Gabriela turned and walked away with a slow and sensual stroll.

  Nathan watched her the way any man of his age would if he had found the luck to be with a woman of her beauty.

  “If I were thirty years younger,” Nathan whispered under his breath with a smile. “She probably wouldn’t look twice at me.”

  Chapter Five

  Pulling up her coat and buttoning the front, Gabriella pushed her way through the door of the department store into the throngs of tourists looking to get in. The wind ran down Brampton Road, cutting though the walkers and giving a chill to all who dared to come out and test the dreary London day.

  Clouds hung thick in the sky, threatening snow, rain, or sleet. It was impossible to tell which. The temperature was hovering just above freezing and small puddles lined the sides of the roads.

  Glancing in both directions, Gabriella saw several cabs holding to the curb waiting for a fare. Their time there would be short if the police arrived and saw they were in an area that did not allow this kind of waiting. Moving quickly, and with caution, Gabriella maneuvered her high-heels over the cracks and divots, that inevitably came up in the streets and sidewalks of London during the cold season.

  Pulling on the door handle, the back of the black cab opened and she slipped inside to find the accommodations nicer than most. No rips or tears in the seats. The smell was nothing but the air freshener from the front, and the driver was a woman.

  “Where to, sister?” the cab driver asked in a thick, cockney accent. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but her hair was thin and not well cared for. The reddish-brown color lacked luster and shine. Her body was an oval shape, from what could be seen, and her head was rounder than most, making the woman look more like a snowman from a children’s show. Her turn to the back of the car was only about a quarter of the way due to her size restricting her. But despite all that, her voice carried a light, airy quality of a person that had not a care in the world. A person who had found contentment in their day to day life.

  “The Everton Hotel, please.”

  “That’s good for me. Always a return fare there.”

  Bing.

  The sound of a text message coming though pulled the attention of Gabriella away from her discussion with the driver.

  “Go ahead, sweetie, take the text. No offence here,” the cab driver said cheerfully.

  “Thank you.” Gabriella pulled the phone from her purse and pressed it to life. With a tap of her finger the message opened, only to find a document but no message with it.

  Must be from Nathan. The man works quick, Gabriella thought to herself as she downloaded the message to her phone and then deleted the transaction.

  Gabriella wasted no time opening the file to see what was inside. Within an instant, the compiled records of the man she was after came into view on the small screen of her phone. The time for gathering the information was now. If her prior interactions with Nathan had taught her anything, it was that his communications would disappear after a few minutes and could not be retrieved.

  Balancing herself though a hard turn she began to read.

  Classified C25

  Name: Akio Mari Moto

  Date of Birth: Unknown

  Aliases: Crow, Billy Chang, Jinn the Low

  Last Known Home: Tokyo

  Wanted for: Bank Robbery, Embezzlement, Drug trafficking, Armed theft, Money laundering, Chattering, Murder, Assault, Assault with a deadly weapon, Intent to kill, Terrorist threats, Possession of a firearm, Assaulting a police officer, Escape from prison, Failure to pay child support, Possession of a weapon of mass destruction

  Prior arrests:

  Age 13, possession of drugs with intent to distribute

  Result: Probation, 1 year

  Age 14, assault and battery

  Result: Probation, 1 year

  Age 14, assault of a police officer

  Result: Juvenal detention, 3 months

  Age 15, stolen car

  Result: Juvenal detention, 1 year

  Age 16, sale of stolen goods

  Result: Juvenal detention, 1 year

  Age 18, possession of a firearm and robbery

  Result: Prison, 18 months

  Age 21, drug trafficking

  Result: Prison, 8 Years

  Age 30, assault and battery

  Result: Prison, 3 years

  Psychological assessment:

  Mr. Mari Moro is a complex individual, and has been resistant to most forms of treatment. While held in state custody he has had no infractions that have extended his time in prison, often controlling himself when challenged by others. His prior record suggests that he could have a propens
ity for assault and aggression but while in the prison setting, he has shown no such behavior.

  Mr. Mari Moto has an extraordinarily high IQ ranging between 165 and 169, placing him in a high genius category. Placing this in perspective, Mr. Mari Moto’s scores are, on average, five points higher than the standard Nobel Prize winner. His use of high intellect has been shown through his ability to remain out of legal issues for the last ten years. By his own admission, he has used his considerable intellect to have others do his bidding in the criminal world.

  Injecting himself into the Mashu crime family from contacts he made in prison, he quickly rose through the ranks placing himself in a leadership position and being invaluable.

  Mr. Mari Moto shows an extraordinary lack of remorse for his actions, and prefers to manipulate others rather than build a normal relationship with them. He shows all needed criteria for a DSM V diagnosis of anti-social personality disorder. Mr. Mari Moto has no other view of the world, other than one that he is in control of. Mixed with his high IQ, he has been able to develop a system of contacts who are in his debt.

  Current situation:

  Mr. Mari Moto’s most recent action was to obtain a suitcase-sized nuclear weapon that had gone missing from the Soviet Union when it transitioned to independent states.

  Making connections through the Russian mafia Volta crime family, Mr. Mari Moto provided a front of being with a terrorist organization that was ready to use the weapon against Moscow. The Volta crime family saw this as an opportunity to destroy the Russian economy and place themselves in a stronger position of power when the country had to rebuild itself.

  Having a stranglehold on many of the western construction companies in the old Soviet Union, the opportunity for decades of organized crime control of all facets of life was available to them. The Volta family originated from and operates out of the Ukraine, and has no affection for Moscow or its government.

  A meeting took place between the Volta crime family and a contingent of men hired by Mr. Mari Moto posing as terrorists in the Philippines. After the suitcase nuclear weapon was confirmed, Mr. Mari Moto released a toxic chlorine gas that killed all people who were at the meeting within minutes.

  In a show of defiance to the world, Mr. Mari Moto has shown up on CCTV in several locations around the world, holding up the weapon in public intentionally to cameras. Despite this obvious threat, he has yet to contact any government.

  His whereabouts are unknown at this time.

  Lifting her eyes from the screen, Gabriella took in a deep breath and looked back down to see the information had vanished from her phone. Her finger scrolled, but found nothing but white page after white page until the document closed by itself and the phone rebooted on its own.

  “You have a worried look, sweetie. You in trouble?” the cab driver asked.

  “Huh…? Oh, no. I’m fine, I was just thinking of something.”

  “Why do I think you’re not tellin’ me the truth? I have been in this cab driving people for years, and you have the look of a woman with man problems.”

  “I guess you could say that, in a way.” Gabriella grimaced.

  “Men ain’t worth the time. Gave ’em up a long time ago. Pets are better. Have me a cat that’s always there and doesn’t put the nag to me all the time. My dog’s always happy to see me and is never lookin’ to pick a fight after a bad day at work. Do yourself a favor, get some pets and forget the men.”

  Letting out a rolling laugh, Gabriella smiled at the kind eyes that were looking at her in the rear view mirror.

  “Here’s your hotel, sweetie. You make sure you take care of yourself first, then worry about the man.” The cab driver pulled over to the curb. “Seven pounds thirty, please.”

  “Here is a tenner. Keep the change and thanks for the chat, I will follow your advice.”

  Chapter Six

  Entering the front door of the hotel, the lack of lavish accommodations was evident straight away. The rug that ran wall to wall had clear and distinct traffic patterns beat down into it. The normal red color replaced by a dirty brown, that was a mix of the base and the weather from the traveler’s shoes as they came in. The walls were a simple white, and looked to be on the five-year plan for repainting. Now closer to the fifth year than the first.

  On the left side of the lobby, was a single desk with a woman sitting behind it. The woman had red, curly hair and was in her late forties. Without glancing up, she called out,

  “You need some help?”

  “Er... Yes.” Gabriella was unsure if the woman was speaking to her. “I have a reservation for a room. The name is Parks. Elizabeth Parks.”

  Turning the pages of the register, the sausage-fingered woman came to a stop and ran her finger down the page, stopping halfway. “There you are.”

  She reached and pulled a key from a board next to the desk, a large number 22 was on a three-inch by three-inch plastic connector to the key.

  “Breakfast is from six to eight. Some breads and jam. It will be along that wall.” The woman pointed across the room. “Just help yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Gabriella said, realizing that if the woman were questioned about her being there, the woman would be unable to give a description of her because she never lifted her head from the phone.

  Taking the steps to the second floor, Gabriella pushed the door open and moved into the hallway. The room numbered 22 was directly across the hall, a very convenient situation if a fast escape was needed.

  The door unlocked smoothly, and opened to show a room that had the light still on. The room was at least a hundred and fifty years old, and the decor proved it. The smell of must and cigarette smoke filled the space. The wallpaper held a floral pattern and had been yellowed with time. The seams had spread, and curing started at some of the corners at the top and bottom of each strip. The bed was a single, and had a pillow with a dark-blue case over it. A department store blanket covered the bed, not tucked in or arranged properly. A small window was chest high, and looked over the alley that ran between the hotel and the building next door.

  This must have been a bathroom when this was a single-family home, now I get to sleep here, Gabriella thought to herself as she looked out the window to the thin asphalt alley below.

  The humming sound from the vibration of Gabriella’s cellphone was amplified by its position on the bed. Scooping it up with her right hand, the flashing text message light was on again, and the phone number was the same as in the cab just a few minutes before.

  “He is a professional,” Gabriella muttered under her breath.

  Flipping the phone open, she scrolled to the text messages and pulled open the one marked unread. Pressing her finger on the icon, the envelope opened to show the text.

  Latest information shows the target in Ukraine and in Moscow. The current contact we have in Moscow is being held in a KGB detainment center for interrogation. The building passes as an average building nobody would look twice at during the day, but in the basement, it is used for interrogation. He was picked up by them two days ago.

  His name is Otto Kline. He can help you find the target if he can survive the interrogation. He needs your help for him to help you. There is a first-class ticket for you to go to Moscow tomorrow morning at eight o’clock on Russian Air.

  Good luck.

  “I fucking hate Moscow,” Gabriella groaned as she sat down on the bed shaking her head.

  Closing her eyes, the city streets of Moscow opened before her as clear and vivid as they were when she was a child. The cold wind of the approaching winter cut through the streets causing coats to be worn high around the neck.

  Tracing the steps of the back alleys looking though the dumpsters, the image of a young girl with tattered clothing crossed her vision.

  “No,” Gabriella whispered, with her eyes moving rapidly under her eyelids causing them to twitch. “Don’t eat that.”

  The girl dressed in oversized clothing pulled out a hand full of pasta from a heap of
trash from the restaurant in front of her. The neon light flickered around the front corner of the alleyway just four feet away. The children of the night would be making their rounds soon looking for scraps to eat. The supplies she had taken on the day of her escape had long been used up, and now it was live or die by her wits and cunning. A scrap of food here and there was all she could muster without drawing too much attention to herself.

  The Russian police were quick to scrub the streets of the homeless youth. It was unbecoming of a city that held itself in high regard. After all, this was the city of Peter the Great, Saint Basil’s Cathedral, and Teriyaki Gallery. No riffraff was permitted to be in the sight of the hard-working people of Moscow and the tourists that had started to come to visit the city.

  The pasta slipped though the girl’s slim fingers, wet with cold tomato sauce as she tried to eat it as fast as possible before moving on to the next location. There was no time for moving slow. If others learned of her bounty, they would soon close in, and then the fight would be on for the scraps that others had left on their plate to be discarded.

  “Hello, little girl,” said a voice from the far end of the alley. A man with a greasy look that covered him from head to toe slowly entered the alley, closing the distance between him and the girl. “Don’t worry, Peter will not hurt you. That’s who I am, Peter. Your friend.”

  Keeping her crouch on the ground Gabriella took the last bite of the pasta, watching the man with the fingerless gloves get closer. He looked behind him and checked to see if anyone was coming as he squatted down next to her.

  “Are you getting some dinner?” the man asked, touching his knee against the girl’s.

  “You’re not like us.” The young girl looked harshly at the man. “You’re clean. No dirt under your fingernails. You’re not from the street. You’re just dressing up.”

  “You’re an observant girl. I like that.” The man placed a hand on her knee, and rubbed it back and forth. “I could take you for a ride in my car. Bring you home to my house. It’s warm and I have lots of food. I like making friends.”