The Angels of Destiny (6 page)

"Are you saying the project is abandoned, Mr. President?"

"Hell no, Colin! The stakes are too high to stop now, and nobody holds the government to ransom, not even the Church.
”
The comment brought a smile to the faces of the two presidential aides.

"We
’
ve invested billions of dollars in this project, knowing that there is intelligent life out there, and we, the US that is, will benefit from it. You
’
ve seen the freaks in the freezer, Colin."

"I understand your concerns, Mr. President."

"I believe things are finally going well back in Houston, Colin?"

“
Yes, sir, they are. We are analyzing data twenty-four hours a day,"

"What about Samuel Black?"

"Well, he appears to be controlling things very well."

"He
’
s a risk to the whole operation!” retorted the President. Hunter sat in stunned silence.

"You should have acted by now, Colin, you know the rules." Hunter looked confused.

“
Colin, I
’
m referring to his drug problem for Christ
’
s sake,
” added
the President before Hunter could respond. Hunter froze; for once he was not prepared. He was standing naked and vulnerable as the two officials stared at him impassively. Hunter hesitated before answering; realizing he had missed something vitally important and trying desperately to think clearly.
“
Mr. President...I
’
m not aware of Samuel
’
s drug problem. I have monitored his performance closely and to date I haven
’
t been able to detect anything other than the highest professional standards from the man." It was Hunter after all who chose Samuel Black, along with the rest of the team. Hunter continued. "There were problems at the beginning, admittedly, but the guy handled them well. He put pressure on Vicki Stark, sure, but that was his job. If I had suspected for one moment that he had a drug problem, he would have been removed from the team. It must be a recent thing sir, although, I must admit he is looking tired lately, but I
’
ve put that down to sheer hard work."

"Colin, are you blind? The security replays show the man has been snorting, drinking and masturbating to excess almost every night."

"What replays sir? I haven
’
t seen any."

"Why not, that
’
s what you
’
re paid for isn
’
t it?" interjected one of the aides. His face was angry and his eyes looked distant and cold.

Hunter looked at the President. "Sir, Black has marital status and doesn
’
t live in the complex. It was decided months ago at the Pentagon meetings not to fit cameras in his home. Just the normal monitoring of his phone and email
—
that
’
s all. My dictate clearly stated that I would have access, only if necessary, to the camera tapes of the living complex. Now you
’
re telling me cameras were fitted in Black
’
s house anyway, and I wasn
’
t told." Hunter was retaliating and looked across at the man next to President with obvious disdain.

Quickly the President responded. "It appears to me that it was a good thing they were, based on the facts don
’
t you think?" Hunter didn
’
t answer the question; the point had been won. The President looked across the table at the second aide.

"Is this documented, Joe?"

"I'm sure it must be, sir. Please let me look it up in the minutes of the Pentagon meetings."

"Make it quick," replied the President, in a very impatient tone. Hunter again visibly relaxed. Someone had briefed the President wrongly. That someone was sat next to him and in deep shit.The President had been embarrassed by misinformation. The official switched on his laptop and accessed the details of Project M13. A few moments later, he looked up.

"Sir, that
’
s correct, a decision was taken not to fit cameras."

"It appears we owe you an apology, Colin," said the President.

Hunter looked humbled by the comment.

"The situation, however, remains the same. Samuel must go."

"He's a risk to the security of the whole project," said the man opposite Hunter.

"We cannot afford to have him on the team any longer and he knows too much now," said the other officer, sternly. "Please resolve the situation immediately." Hunter felt his stomach tighten, he was aware of what that meant. He looked at the President who nodded his approval.

"Of course," replied Hunter. "I understand."

"He
’
s clearly got a problem and I want you to find out what it is. I just hope it
’
s a domestic and nothing more serious. From now on Colin, I want McPherson in charge," said the President. "He has experience of leadership and he
’
s a team player with respect from all the other members; as your memo says."

"Especially Vicki Stark," interrupted Joe.

"At least he isn
’
t screwing up this goddam country." Retorted the President, banging his fist on the table in anger.

By four o
’
clock Hunter had landed back at Houston International Airport. On arrival at the terminal he phoned Sam from his cellphone. He was already there, waiting to pick him up. At precisely four-fifteen Hunter sat back in the rear seat of the Limo and took a deep breath.

"Looks like you had one-hell-of-a-day, Mr Williams." Sam said, looking in the driver
’
s mirror, trying to make eye contact with Hunter.

"Just get me home, Sam."

"Yes sir, Mr. Williams, sir.
”

The weather in London was unusually cool for April, and the apartment windows were closed. The traffic in the West End was heavy and the noise filtered into the room like a dull drone.

Kim was on-edge and found it difficult to rehearse the speech that had occupied her mind for the last three days. Taking a big slug of her gin and tonic she picked up the phone and dialed.

Samuel Black was pouring another bourbon when the phone rang. He slumped on the sofa before hitting the answer key on the videophone. Kim
’
s face appeared on the screen, jolting his senses like a thunderbolt.

Her face showed no expression. "Samuel, I
’
m in London."

“
London?..What the fuck are you doing in London?" he said, angrily.

"Please listen, this is not easy for me… I wish there was a better way than this but, Samuel." She paused and lowered her head. "I
’
ve decided to leave you. I know that you
’
ve taken over half a million dollars of my earnings out of the account in the last six-months, without one word of explanation, and I guess you must be in some real trouble. It frightens me to think what you
’
re involved with but I don
’
t want to know, I just want out. Yesterday I quit the tour and I intend to make a new life in England... Samuel, this is goodbye." Kim
’
s voice was broken; her hand covered her tearful eyes, before the call was abruptly ended from the other end.

"It had to be done, Kim," said a voice from the bedroom.

"I know, I know."

"Come back to bed, baby. I
’
ve worked out a way of making you feel better." Kim forced a smiled as she walked back into the bedroom.

"He was just using me, Tom."

"I know," replied the man, waiting patiently in her bed.

It was the weekend and on the East Side of Houston,
‘
Paradise Club
’
was buzzing with the usual Saturday night party people. Four of the stages were occupied with girls, tantalizing the audience with their provocative stage dances. Regulars to the club were walking up to the raised stages and lustfully slipping bundles of dollars into their favourite dancers G strings.

Samuel Black took a seat in the centre of the club at an unoccupied table. A young waitress, wearing a low cut dress, approached his table, deliberately bending to show her bulging breasts, she asked him what he would like to drink.

"Give me a large bourbon on the rocks."

“
Certainly, Mr Black
—
It
’
s good to see you again."

"Is Mandy here tonight?" Black enquired.

"She is, but at the moment she
’
s busy, if you know what I mean?"

"Tell her I want to buy her a drink will you?"

"And a table dance, maybe?" suggested the waitress, smiling

"Just tell her, will you." Samuel
’
s voice was agitated.

"Sure thing, Mr Black," the waitress said, respectfully.

"Bring me a pack of cigarettes too."

“
Straightaway, sir.
”

One of the table dancers had noticed Samuel sitting alone, and made her way to his table.

"Hi gorgeous, got time for a table dance with me?"

"Fuck off!" was the angry reply from Black.

The girl knew when to work a client and this was not the time. Walking away she was already scanning the other tables for her next client, willing to pay for the privilege of having her huge silicon breasts pushed into his face, as she danced around his chair.

Samuel watched as a guy on the opposite table fondled his young nubile dancer. His hand had quickly moved up her inner thigh and he was trying to finger her. She lifted her dress so that her lower body was in full view, as she wiggled her ass in mock enjoyment.

Samuel
’
s drink arrived, along with a pack of cigarettes already opened together with a complimentary Paradise Club lighter. He picked up the glass and downed the drink in one. "Same again.
”
The hostess picked up his glass and walked back to the bar.
“
Mother fucker.
”
she said quietly, to herself. He took a cigarette and lit it, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs. He
’
d never smoked in his life and the nicotine spun his already erratic senses, for a moment he felt he would vomit and perspiration gathered on his face. He had been told by Hunter not to report for work on Monday. Taking his cellphone from his inside pocket he dialed a San Francisco number. There was a pause, then.

"Tom Hudson, speaking."

"It
’
s Black, here."

"Samuel...It
’
s been a long time, how are you buddy?"

"Just shut the fuck up and listen, you slime-ball.
”

Some minutes later, Black looked up to see a young girl, walking towards his table.

"Well, well
—
If it isn
’
t Samuel."

"What time are you finishing here?" he enquired, switching off the cellphone and throwing it onto an empty chair.

"Nothing like being direct Samuel. What have you got in mind?"

"Motel for the night
…
What
’
s your price?"

"For you baby, two-thousand bucks."

“
Now!"

"All right baby, but then it
’
s four-thousand. I
’
ve got a living to make you know."

"Sure, lets go," said Samuel as he grabbed her hand and walked to the exit.

Samuel turned the Jeep into the hotel parking lot on the corner of Westheimer and Richmond. The hotel had been booked and paid for during the drive from the club. Two bottles of bourbon, ice and a large plate of nachos were also ordered. Samuel picked up the room key from the reception desk while Mandy slowly walked to the elevators, holding the doors open for Samuel she watched him slowly walk towards her. He entered the elevator and pushed the button for level eight. Mandy could sense there was something bothering Samuel by his abrupt manner. Nothing a good fuck won
’
t cure, she thought to herself, as the elevator ascended.

Room 812 was one of the larger rooms the hotel offered. It was tastefully decorated with two cream leather sofas; glass topped coffee tables, drinks cabinet, two king-size beds and an en-suite bathroom. On one of the tables the bourbon and ice was waiting, on the other the nachos, covered with a silver lid.

"I
’
m going to take a shower honey," said Mandy, unzipping the back of her dress as she entered the bathroom. Samuel made straight for the bourbon. He stared blankly at the wall as he poured himself a very large drink. He was losing his mind. Not one word of Mandy
’
s continuous chatter on the drive to the hotel had broken through his thoughts. The sound of the shower and Mandy
’
s voice calling for a drink also went unnoticed.

She was young, twenty-three years old and saving most of the money she earned from the game to pay for a college education she desperately wanted. With a four-year-old child she needed respectability and a secure job. Only an education could give her that. The father of her child had left town before the birth. Her religious parents had disowned her, at a time when family morals were an American preoccupation. Her short fair hair, blue eyes and 37-24-36 frame guaranteed her work seven days a week, but Mandy never worked Sundays, that was a day for taking her son to the park.

"You seem a little tense tonight?
”
she said, returning to the room completely naked. "I think you
’
re in need of some expert head."

"I want it all."

"Around the world?"

"Yeah."

She moved over to him and removed his belt and shoes before unzipping his pants and pulling them down. His eyes closed as she took his swollen penis in her mouth and expertly sucked it, eventually taking its full length as saliva dripped from her mouth. At the club she had built up a reputation as a
‘
head queen
’
and consistently earned three-thousand dollars a night. Within six months she would have enough money to pay for her college education, outright.

"I want to fuck your tight little ass," he said, breathing deeply.

"On the bed," she replied in a sultry voice.

"One hole down, two to go." Mandy joked, trying to calm the tense atmosphere, but her comment went unnoticed. Getting onto the bed on her hands and knees she looked around at Samuel. "Having a bit of trouble raising it?"

His penis had become flaccid. "Shut your mouth, bitch!” he retorted, with anger in his voice.

“Okay… take it easy. I
’
ll have it as hard as rock in no time." Mandy turned onto her back, exposing a small tattoo of a cat on her shaven mound.

"Eat my pussy now, it tastes so sweet." He stared at her for some time before lowering himself to kiss her breasts. She closed her eyes and began moaning gently, as if she was enjoying it. He began biting her left nipple, tenderly at first but gradually the bites became more forceful. Her face contorted with pain. Before she could call out, his hand had closed over her mouth. He was biting with a rage escaping from within. His mouth began to taste her warm blood and his teeth ripped the nipple from her breast. Blood poured over her young white skin, covering her chest. Samuel spat the nipple into her face.

Shaking her head violently to one side she freed her mouth, desperately needing to breathe. Her eyes were filled with fear, and the pain was excruciating.
‘
YOU CRAZY BASTARD
…
YOU CRAZY BASTARD,
’
she shouted, hysterically.

Grabbing her neck he immediately tightened his grip, abruptly stopping her cries. Her face was racked with panic and her eyes became bulbous. He felt immense strength in his hands and his mind was swirling, out of control. This was not Samuel; this was a ruthless maniac.

"Die you stinking bitch. I want you to die." His face was red with anger as he slowly squeezed the life out of her young body. Her lips had turned blue and her eyes had partially closed. He began shaking her head violently backwards and forwards and her blood covered his face in long splashes. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, he stopped and looked at her purple contorted face and staring red eyes. Her tongue hung loosely from her mouth and her head dropped forward lifelessly. As if caring, he gently lowered her limp body onto the bed.

Samuel
’
s trembling hand lifted the receiver, "Room service?"

"Yes sir, can I help you?"

"I want a maid to change the bed sheets."

"Straight away, sir."

“
No, not now, in two hours please. In two hours time."

"Of course, sir."

Samuel replaced the receiver and walked to the bathroom. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. After turning on the bath taps, he removed his bloodstained shirt, throwing it to the floor. His eyes were staring and unfocussed and in his hand was a penknife. Still shaking uncontrollably, he lowered himself into the filling bath. His hand moved to his neck, feeling for the vein that visibly pulsed. With one sideways slash the sharp blade cut deep into his neck, severing his jugular. Long spurts of blood hit the wall tiles and ran down into the bath turning the water bright red. Another slash severed the ligaments and veins in his left wrist. With his right hand he turned the taps off and dropped the knife into the bath. Slowly, with staring de-focussed eyes he lowered himself into the blood. His paling face showed no pain or emotion, he knew his torment would soon be over.

Hunter felt sick as he picked up the phone. He dialed a number and waited for the voice at the other end.

“
Yeah," came the response.

"Black has to go."

"When?"

"Tonight, from his place."

“
Yeah
—
Okay."

Replacing the receiver, he walked to the bathroom. He leaned into the toilet and spewed the contents of his stomach into the white enamel bowl.

Hunter was awakened by the phone at four-twenty. The man
’
s voice was tense and erratic.

"Well?" enquired Hunter.

"Black
’
s body has been found in a Houston hotel room. He committed suicide a few hours ago."

"Okay."

“
No, it
’
s not okay, the suicide was genuine."

"Oh fuck! Did he talk?"

"We
’
ve checked his outgoing calls, including his cellphone and network mail. It
’
s all clear. There
’
s no reason to suspect he blabbed. The reason for his suicide appears to be his wife, phoning to say she was leaving him, to live in England.
”

"When was this?" Hunter
’
s voice was agitated.