The Spirit Survives (20 page)

I felt my strength leaving as I finished the last statement. Dizziness overcame me when Rex asked me to describe the grey haired man who killed the girl. I opened my mouth but that’s the last thing I remember. I passed out. As if in a dream, I heard Rex yelling for the doctor.

Rex left the room as Dr. Rosen came in to check on me. After a few minutes I regained consciousness. I heard the doctor go out and tell Rex that I was okay, just exhausted, and needed rest.
 

“Why don’t you return in the morning?” he said. “He should have recouped a lot of his strength by then. I think by tomorrow he’ll be strong enough that you can tell him about his girlfriend’s disappearance.”

What in the hell is he talking about?
I thought as I dozed off into my tormented sleep land.

* * *

Rex proceeded to the waiting room, retrieved his cell phone and called the Chicago police department. He was astonished at what Ben had related to him. He knew that the body of Veronika Ivanova had been found on the mountain on the day of the tornado. It must have been her that Ben witnessed being killed. He decided to keep this information out of the press until he could investigate it more thoroughly.
 

He asked to speak to Sergeant Lisbon, whom he knew he could trust. He briefed the sergeant on the circumstances and told him that it was strictly confidential. He wanted the sergeant to check on all known associate of Cherokee Alvarez. He needed to know the identity of the other man that Ben spoke of. The only description he had was a big man with grey hair, which wasn’t much to go on. He also asked the sergeant to arrange for a sketch artist to meet with Ben Harris as soon as possible.

Chapter 47

The Benefactor rested in his private office overlooking Lake Michigan in downtown Chicago. The elegant office space had been acquired by a third party, whom the Benefactor had paid very generously, and was not registered in his name. When going to, and working out of this office, the Benefactor donned a carefully applied disguise with a mustache and beard. He consistently sported sunglasses and a hat to prevent anyone from recognizing him. He wore a set of body pads, which added twenty pounds to his slim muscular body.
 

The office was located in the center of the Chicago business district. The thirty-six-story building overlooked Lake Michigan, the Chicago River and the Magnificent Mile. The lobby was an elegant mix of brass, granite, marble and mahogany finishes. The Benefactor was always generous with tips to the lobby staff, so they were extremely accommodating to him. He was known to them as Mr. White. His office reflected the grandeur of the lobby. The oversized mahogany desk was positioned so he could see the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. There was a mahogany conference table with six black leather chairs. To the left of the conference table was a sitting area with sofa and chairs in black leather. To the right of the sitting area was a well stocked bar of black marble, accented with mahogany. He poured himself a glass of Gentleman Jack Bourbon, filled the glass with ice, and walked to his desk and sat down in his black leather desk chair.
 

He was not pleased with the course of events surrounding the Ivanova slaying. He had sanctioned and financed the murder of Veronika to destabilize the relationship between Sergey Ivanova and the Mexican cartels. His long-term scheme was to have his men in place to assume control of the cartels and the Russian Mafia.

 
The Salazar cartel, located in Houston, and the Flores cartel, located in Chicago, were becoming more and more dependent on the Russian Mafia and Sergey. The Benefactor had established himself as the protective and financial arm of these cartels. He had made millions, deposited in a numbered Swiss bank account and in secured banks in the Cayman Islands. He planed to retire from his present position and enjoy his fortune in two years. By that time he should have control of both cartels and the Russian Mafia.

In recent months, he saw his influence diminishing with the emergence of Sergey’s Russian Mafia as the principal distributor of drugs in the USA. To neutralize this trend, he had put the idea in the mind of Elezar Fernandez of the Salazar cartel to place a contract on the head of Sergey’s daughter and then attribute the hit to the Flores cartel; however, he never intended to let the blame be transferred. He knew that Sergey was ruthless and when he found out that the killing was a contract job of a cartel, he would wage all out war on them until he destroyed and killed their leaders. The cartels would not go down without a fight. After the carnage was over among Sergey and the cartels, which would gravely denigrate the power of both, he would place his people in command in the cartels and the Russian Mafia and establish ties with La Cosa Nostra to partner with him to take over the distribution of the drugs. With this coalition, he would have power never seen before in the criminal community in the United States.

Mario Bastone was his primary contact with the Italian Mafia. Bastone had established a relationship with Sergey and had been offered one million dollars by Sergey for the capture of his daughter’s killer. Bastone would be the primary connection to convince Sergey that both cartels were to blame for the killing.

The Benefactor now was aware that there was a fly in the ointment. A former cop by the name of Ben Harris had witnessed the murder of Veronika and one of the henchmen was found dead in the cave where the man had been trapped after the tornados passed through Lookout Mountain. The man’s girlfriend was discovered missing shortly after that. Bastone had recently traveled to Green Bay to search for leads on the killer to cement his relationship with Sergey. Bastone, the primary mole, informed the Benefactor that he had located Bo Lopez in the Residence Inn in Green Bay and that Sergey’s enforcer, Petrov, was staying in the same motel. He still hadn’t figured out exactly what was going on. The Benefactor commanded him to keep his distance until the dust cleared and things became more apparent. Bastone also reported that a female cop had been murdered on Lookout Mountain and the killing was connected to the case.

Things were becoming far too complex and threatening. The Benefactor felt that Bastone required help. He informed the Italian that he was dispatching one of his most trusted associates to assist him. Bastone protested, but to no avail. He was commanded to meet the man at the Black and Tan Restaurant in De Pere, Wisconsin the next day at 2:00 p.m. The Benefactor ordered Bastone to follow Bo Lopez and said his man would do the surveillance of Petrov. They could work out the particulars at the meeting at the restaurant. He required daily reports on the activities of both men.

After the conversation ended, the Benefactor phoned the man he called “The Fixer.” The Fixer was a contract operator whom the Benefactor had used in many times in delicate situations. The man was in his sixties and had been successfully operating outside the law for fifteen years, since his release from a five-year stint in prison for fraud. The Benefactor had always experienced successful outcomes with the man. Of course the Fixer had never met his employer and the contact had always been by phone. However, the Benefactor paid well and always on time.
 

After instructions were given and questions answered, the two men hung up.

The Benefactor refreshed his Gentleman Jack, satisfied with his actions.

Chapter 48

The mist of the night fell upon me as I dreamed and floated in the stars in thoughts of Leah. My spirit flew with the angels as we searched each cloud for her presence. I was crippled in my search because a piece of my heart was missing. Like a thief in the night, she took it away and left an open wound that would never heal without her presence.

In the past, I was complete within myself. That state of being no longer existed. The thoughts of her are warm and gentle and welcome, but only remind me of the pleasures of being with her.

So the sweet angels continued to assist my crippled spirit to search the clouds for her. I don’t know if she was hiding or lost in the confusion of life. The angels tell me in silent reassurances that their Father did not create loneliness. He created love and allowed its fragile purity to enter the paradox of life. The variable of his most treasured creation is intensity, allowing mutual intensity of love to overcome all paradoxes.

As I searched and searched the night away, I saw occasional glimpses of her beauty at sunset and sunrise. My intensity was shattering and sometimes I enjoyed the temporary healing of my wounds within dreams of her.

I awoke from the dream in a cold sweat, instinctively realizing that Leah was in danger. I sat up abruptly, and felt a needle rip from my arm as I attempted to get out of the bed. Alarms shattered the silence as nurse Lilly rushed in. She grabbed me by the shoulders and said in a calm and gentle voice, “Ben, you must have had a bad dream, please relax and lay back down.”

 
The firmness of her grip on my shoulders startled me, and I remembered that I was in the hospital. I lay down on the bed, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry Lilly, I forgot where I was,” I whispered. I looked down and saw blood soaking the sheets where the needle was torn from my vein. She helped me to the chair, beside the bed, called an orderly, and they changed the sheets. After a few minutes, I was back in the clean bed with the needle safely back in my arm.

“Please Lilly, is my fiancée Leah Hamilton here? Has she been notified about my accident?”

“Ben, I really don’t know. This is the first we’ve heard of her, and we don’t know how to make contact,” she replied.

“Was my cell phone recovered from the cave?”

“Yes, Assistant Chief Herns brought it in. He said that’s about all of your personal items that he could get for you. Wait, I’ll get it.”

Lilly left the room and returned shortly, handing me the cell phone. I turned it on and found that I had two bars of power. The melody began to play signifying that I had voice mail. I pushed the button to connect to the service. The voice informed me that I had ten messages, so I pushed the button and waited for the most recent message.

“Hi Ben, this is Leah. I’ve been trying to call you to tell you that everything here is okay, and that I’m at home. The movers delivered the furniture but your pool table was damaged, sorry. Call me as soon as you can.”

It was Leah’s voice but something was wrong. I don’t own a pool table. I think it was Leah’s way of telling me that she was damaged and that someone forced her to make the call. “At home” was the Residence Inn. She must be there and she must be in some sort of trouble.
 

I
have got to get out of this hospital now!

Chapter 49

After a life of small-time conning of people, primarily older women, the Fixer finally hit the big time. He was born in a small town, suffered through two failed marriages, caused by his infidelity and lying, sired two children, and served time in prison for fraud. While in prison, he studied psychology and actually had enough credits to earn a master’s degree, but his felony record would keep him from ever being able to be a practicing psychologist.
 

When he was released from prison, he moved to Chicago and used his new-found knowledge of the human mind and his southern charm to finally make some real money. Having made contacts with the Mexican drug cartel felons in prison, he began performing small jobs for them, primarily interviewing new recruits to ferret out undercover agents. He advised the cartel leaders on whom to recruit and actually developed a test to determine loyalty. His big break came when he negotiated a truce between the Salazar cartel and the Flores cartel. That act earned him the name, “The Fixer.” After that success, he worked regularly with the cartels.
 

During this association with the cartels, he heard of the invisible man called the Benefactor. No one ever saw this man in person; nevertheless, he held powerful influence with the big bosses in the criminal community. As the Fixer’s reputation grew, finally he received a call from the Benefactor. They worked out an exclusive relationship, which earned the Fixer more money than he ever imagined having. All the contact was by secured phones and the Fixer was certain the man’s voice was being altered by some sort of machine when they talked.
 

The Fixer was sixty-four years old, with silver hair and a warm, engaging smile. His six-foot frame was slim and angular. He had light blue eyes that twinkled when he smiled. He appeared to be the perfect grandfather, but he was as deadly as a viper. He always insisted being called the Fixer. No names were allowed.

After the recent call from his boss, the Fixer booked a flight from O’Hare the next morning at 9:00 a.m. for Green bay. He knew that, if his assignment was successfully implemented, his usual fee of sixty thousand dollars plus expenses would promptly be paid by the Benefactor. He charged a flat fee regardless of what he had to do. If it included killing, that was covered in his fee.

The cool air was filled with drizzling rain as he drove the hellacious trip to the airport from his home in St. Charles, just north of Chicago. During the two hour trip, he listened to his favorite CD,
Roy Orbison’s Greatest Hits
. “Only the Lonely” was playing as he deposited his car in the parking deck and proceeded to the security area to check in. Surprisingly, his flight was on time, and he arrived in Green Bay as scheduled. He rented a car from Hertz with a navigation device and followed the voice directions to The Black and Tan Restaurant. The establishment was located on the second level, so he took the elevator. He knew that the Benefactor had style, and the man proved it with this choice of restaurant for the meeting place.