ASCENSION (38 page)

“Okay,
but you’re not going to like it.”

“Like what?”

“They’re there to take out Frank.”

I
t took a few seconds for the significance
of his words
to register
. His teeth were clenched as he repeated
, “
Did I hear
you
right
…
yo
u’re
tel
-
ling
me my wife…is…
go
-
ing
…to…
clip
…
Frank
?
”

“Yeah, they left a couple of hours ago.”

He spat,
“
¿
Estás
loco?”

“I tried talking her out of it
. We all did
but she’s stubborn, you know that.”

“So, Giuseppe and Nico
wen
t along
to what help her
commit suicide
?
Damn,
you’re
all
these big burly motherfuckers and none of you could stop her?”

“Alfonzo it’s not like we can tie her to a chair or lock her in a fucking
closet
.”

“Oh yes the fuck you could
’ve
!” He shouted over his shoulder as he hurried upstairs in search of his cellphone. He spotted the envelope lying in the center of the bed and read its contents.
The magnitude of what was happening overwhelmed him and he cursed
aloud, “Dammit Selange what the hell, geez!”

He
placed the envelope in the side drawer and found his cellphone there. If they were going to hit Monticelli none would have their cells
active
during the
clip
. He called the pilot
and learned his wife’s return was scheduled at half past midnight.

In his highly anxious state he no longer experienced a light-head or exhaustion. His mind was sharp, his body pumping with adrenalin. He called to charter another jet and was told one would be fueled and ready in half an hour.

He hurried to the safe and found his gun
,
knife
and computer pad with
Monticelli’s
location
missing
. His eyebrows pulled together in an angry V.

This cannot be happening!

“
Shit, what are you thinking babe?
”

He hurried downstairs, grabbed a cold beverage from the fridge and ordered Vincent to have Emilio drive them to the airport.

Vincent nodded, “On it.”

A
lfonzo
leaned over the sink
splash
ing
cold water on his face
mumbling aloud
,
“
Increíble
!
Increíble
!”

CHAPTER T
HIRTY-ONE

C
histopher
pu
t
the
half-eaten pizza in the fridge then went to shower.
He requested a
short
leave of absence, citing personal reasons and returned
home
to South Carolina.
Th
e
last assignment made him question whether or not he was cut-out for
undercover work. Maintaining a
duplicitous lifestyle
blurred the lines between right and wrong
. He hated
lying to
gain Selange’s trust
when his true motive was to obtain
information on her
husband. Yeah, he hated lying to her
, a lot.

Sinesi
whooped with
joy
when
Alfonzo was taken into custody on the night
of this
wife’s
big award
ceremony
. He deliberately executed the TFW in public in front of the swanky establishment as a photo op
for the agency
. The
arrest of Alfonzo Diaz
was
a featured story
on the front cover of
every
New York City newspaper
and
national
media
outlet
.

Selange
’s
philanthrop
ic organization was now under investigation simply because of her association with an alleged figure-head of organized crime. Gosh, he could not imagine her embarrassment or disappointment when sponsors began to withdraw their support. Ah, he felt horrible, w
orst of all
she was a truly good
person
unfortunately
,
she was
playing on
the
bad team.
He
tried to shower away the guilt
. He soaped his armpits vigorously engrossed in thought.

How the hell
do I stop loving her or thinking about
her…
how dammit? This undercover shit isn’t for me…I never want to feel this way again…a lying…motherfucking snitch!

No, that’s not who I am. I’m not going to deceive…gain someone’s trust then use it against them. I can’t do it. Walking up to a man, identifying who I am and arresting his ass is stra
ight forward policing…this…this
…what I’ve done takes a certain type of person…
one without scruples…one w
hose
heart
isn’t
easily broken!

He pray
ed
Selange
came to her senses and realize
d
staying
with Alfonzo was dangerous. If she wanted a normal life with her son she must leave, walk away forever and never turn back.
At one point he
thought she
’d
come to this
conclusion
without interference.
The day at the
nightclub.

Christopher
rinsed the soap from his body then wrapped a towel around his waist. Of course,
she forgave
her husband. By the PDA exhibited after returning from a weekend get-a-way,
Selange was once again in his clutches. That’s when he decided it was time to do his job and
stop
acting like a spineless boy with a crush. Looking back, he did exactly what he was
hired
to do
except h
is motivation
was driven by
spite.
He looked at himself in the mirror, the face staring back was different; a face of a man
in love with someone he couldn’t have. The truth
i
s he
envied
Alfonzo. He had a
loyal, beautiful and smart wife.
A woman
with a big-heart and an even bigger
smile.

During the night he lay sprawled on the sofa with his dog
watching a
reality TV show. He welcomed the mindless entertainment, anything to get his mind off his thoughts of Selange. His dog barked seconds before the doorbell rang and he sat forward as the
G
old
en Retriever
jumped down to the floor. Being a creature of habit he reached under the cushion for the standard issued
Glock 23
. In the field he carried a Sig. He liked it better.

H
e wasn’t expecting anyone
at this hour. He
moved
to the
side of the door,
“Yeah, who is it?”

An intrinsic part of
basic
training
w
as to always think ahead
and stay alert.

“Chris, it’s me Townsend.”

Christopher
relaxed,
Townsend was
a fellow agent and an
okay
guy
. He opened the door.

T
ownsend walked in, “Sorry I didn’t give you the heads up. I was hoping to catch you.
I
drove
straight from
Virginia
. Y
ou’re the only other guy I trust right now.”

Chris locked the door and offered Townsend a cold beer and an even colder slice of
pizza. Townsend accepted the beer
but
passed on the pizza.
He clicked open the can and guzzled down t
he frothy beverage then
wiped his mouth.
“Whew, I needed that,” Townsend said gratefully.

“So where’s your crazy partner
, thought you were joined at the hip
?” Chris asked out of curiosity. Usually the two were like
S
iamese twins.

“
In New York
last time I heard
meeting with the D.A. regarding the Diaz
bust.
”

Christopher scoffed, “Figures.”

“I concur.
”

“You were there when the bust went down, how did it go?”

“Went off without a hitch.
Diaz looked as if he was expecting us.”

“And his family?”

“They weren’t present. Think the wife was in the limo, though.”

“Um, that’s good.”
Christopher surmised whatever Townsend dr
ove hours to talk about must be of grave
importan
ce
. Townsend wasn’t the type to pay social visits. “So what’s this
about?” He asked getting straight to the point. The hospitality phase
was over and he really wanted some rest.

He walked to the sofa
, sat
and discreetly slid the gun down the side as
Townsend pulled sheets of crumpled paper from his pocket
then
handed it to
him
.

“
Sinesi’s
been working both sides. Th
e
se are wire transfers I found
in a
n account listed
u
nder a fictitious name in
Sinesi’s
office. I became suspicious of Sinesi
months ago
. I don’t know call it a
cop’s intuition
but he’s been obsessed with Diaz and the Palazzo’s far beyond professional interest. That’s not even the half of
it,
I overheard a phone conversation where he was discussing payment for a job. Suddenly, he tells me he has to do something important and takes off. I followed him
to a restaurant where he met with a man I later
learned was
a freelance
r
named Mike Logan.”

Christopher
unraveled the sheets of paper and
perused the documents
. T
wice
during
the
month
of March
there were transfers of money
t
otaling
over a
million
dollars to Brice
Jewelers Co
.
Then smaller
transactions
each month thereafter
to
Brice
Davidowitz
.
He looked up at Townsend, “
What else?”

Townsend reached in another pocket and brandished an I.D. card, “I snooped through
his wallet
when he fell asleep
during an over
night
stake-out
last month
and
found this!
”

Christopher
recalled
being on overnight surveillance detail with
Sinesi
and the man
slept like an elephant
.
He took the laminated car from Townsend’s outstretched hand. There was a photo identification of Sinesi in Hasidic garb and below his picture the words
BRICE
JEWELERS
along with the
name Brice
Davidowitz
.

A dummy company in which Sinesi funneled the pay-offs he received. The slimy bastard!

Townsend went on, “The money
originated from an account in
Italy
. That’s all I could find out but
it’s
apparent
Sinesi’s
been setting up Alfonzo Diaz. Who he’s working for is
a
mystery but it’s
gotta
be someone with deep pockets
, likely mob connected
.
O
nce the
D
istrict Attorney
gets
wind of this…”