Outstanding Subject
Part 13

Vero


Like any professional hit man, Benjamin felt an internal satisfaction to have finished his work with success after communicating the message to Sam Seaborn. He took a taxi to meet with his partner Mateo.
The cab driver was happy to get a good drive; a long trip meant good money and surely an appropriate tip. Before this passenger, he had only driven some old woman that went to the supermarket.

Benjamin leaned on the back of his seat; satisfied by day's work .He was recruited, because mercenaries in the Gulf war were among his comrades in killing schemes. He loved to kill. He felt motivated He thought that the Government it was managed by a handful of subversives that ruled everything. He believed that the country needed more petroleum sources, but the damned politicians impeded the building of new plants.
"Depend on the damned Arabs for petroleum, because the government doesn't allow to make our own perforations in the continental platform.. Oh no, they worry more about the fish than us. If Congress doesn't do anything to save our country, then we should do something ourselves.'
Looking at his watch, he observed with pleasure the city from the window; his cellular phone began to ring. He waited seven rings and then answered it.
-It's done, I don't believe that he will bother us more, if he knows what's good for him. Also I will ensure that we know his movements, - he said while looked at the driver in the rear-view mirror.

*************************************************************************

Sam recovered slowly, he was stunned by the vortex of emotions. He didn't want to be in his apartment, he was terrified of staying there. His neighbors were not in the building. Only Edward, who was sure to be asleep in some corner, Mrs. Allison who was deaf and Mallory the cat, the only that seemed to pay attention to him.

But the idea of spending one night in his apartment with that cat disagreed with him.
He shivered when remembering the defenselessness he had felt in front of that man, and he decided to leave. Slowly he understood the reality of the danger that he was in. He had to look for help, real help.
Like in a spy movie, Sam looked at the street from the window, to see if there was some notorious surveillance. He looked into the cars but didn't see anybody. Closing the curtains, he opened the front door to leave, and Mallory came out running passing under his legs and disappeared in the stairway. Sam closed his eyes and waited a minute to recover his courage; after breathing deeply he opened his eyes, almost with hope that everything disappeared in a magic trick, allowing him to wake up from the worst nightmare of his life. But what was happening was not a bad dream, of course. He locked the door, leaving the lights on.
He relaxed out on the street. Wrapping up in his coat to not be seen, he tried to see if somebody followed him. He didn't see anybody suspicious and he didn't have any trouble finding a cab.
The driver looked at Sam in the mirror.
- Where to? - He asked.

Sam didn't answer. The driver looked into his eyes.

-I needs to know where to go mans! - He said.
-Well, to the center.
-What place in the center? - Asked the driver irritated.

-I will decide when we arrive, - Sam said, biting his lower lip, as the pain convinced him of leaving that habit.

-My God. - Murmured the driver, turning his head. He was irritated to make such a short itinerary, and besides that passenger seemed half-crazy.

Sam fussed in his seat. Ahead, many rear lights swayed. He tried to clear his head and think.

'Did I do the correct thing?' His reflections had forced him to escape. It was understandable that his apartment terrified him.
The taxi dove into a tunnel, the traffic was relatively little, and they advanced to good speed.
Sam asked himself if he should go to the police. Perhaps it was the best thing. Then he saw the photograph of his mother. "That was not a good idea."
He was lost; he didn't know what he do. All the plans that he made had their disadvantages. Every time that he believed to have arrived to the bottom of that whole damned matter, those things fell in a worst place

He looked lost by the window; a van drove next to his taxi and he could read a bumper sticker that said... "MI LIFE GOES DOWNHILL ...AND I LOVE IT!!! " Sam closed his eyes.
Every thing was very complicated.

The taxi driver's humor improved as the sum indicated on the taximeter increased.
Sam could not decide to where to go, the driver driving without objective all over the city.
The taximeter reached the sum of the 45 dollars.
He feared to return to his house, but he also feared to go elsewhere.
Josh. Sam thought he was the only person to whom he could go to at 2 in the morning and
who would understand him. But he was afraid he was being followed, and he didn't want to
commit Josh to any danger. He moved closer to the driver, and gave him Josh's address.
Sam continued thinking, resolved not to despair.
The driver took him to a residential area, where there were neither people nor cars or dogs.
That part of the city seemed sleeping, as if the busy Washington dove into deep slumber.
Few lights were seen in the windows; only the mercury lamps revealed that it was an inhabited
place and not a desert.

Sam gave the driver a hundred dollars.

-Don't you have change? - Complained the driver.

Sam shook his head.

- I don't have fifty dollars.

The man sighed, transforming the act of giving change into a complicated rite between
passive and aggressive. Not to leave the taxi driver angry, Sam gave him ten dollars of tip.
The man thanked him and wished a good night before going away
Stopping in the street, a sharp paranoia wave hit him. Impulsively he ran towards Josh's building lobby and rang the bell with determination. He had to ring it again insistently, until Josh responded.

A strident noise fuelled the lobby. Sam pushed the door and entered, heading toward the stairways to ascend to the 2nd floor.
Sam began to go up the stairway. He was at the middle of the second tract when Josh appeared in his robe. Then he walked toward to Sam.
- Sam? What hell are you doing here? It's almost two in the morning. What are you doing at this hour?
Although the welcome was not the best, Sam thought he could scream of happiness when he heard Josh's voice.
- You told me that you would be my faithful dog, you maybe you forgot... a dog doesn't greet his master this way.
-You didn't meet my mother's Pekinese... Sam...it is two in the morning!!, also, - Josh continued in an exasperated tone, - that was at noon, I cannot be your dog fulltime.
He turned back to his apartment, angry.
-I believe you are right, I really need a dog...maybe a Great Dane, - murmured Sam as he entered Josh's apartment.

Josh was not seen anywhere. Sam closed the door with key and two pins. He found Josh in bed, with the blankets until the neck and eyes closed.
-What hospitality, - commented Sam, sitting down on the side of the bed. He still looked at him
Without saying a word, with confused mind... he didn't know how to begin.
Josh didn't move, at least at the beginning. Finally, he opened his right eye, later the left one.
Then he sat up on the bed.
-God. I can sleep if you're sitting on my bed. What are you doing?
-Polishing my shoes. Don't you see? ... Josh, I am in terrible trouble.
-What happened now Sam... I cannot play cowboys and Indians with you every night!
Sam made an effort to calm down, analytic. But it was difficult. He even had 150 pulsations
Per minute.

Josh looked at Sam.
- Seriously Sam, you're becoming unbearable with this matter! - He rose of the bed and put on
the robe again.
- Sam... - he began to say while he walked towards the kitchen in search of something to drink,

-...What do you want to drink?
-Whiskey, if you have. Whiskey with soda; a little soda, - Sam tried to speak with fluency.
His hands even trembled visibly. He followed Josh to the kitchen.
-Josh...
Josh saw Sam's face and realized that the rolls had been invested. Now Sam was the dog, he looked like a Golden Retriever puppy.
-Well, well, let us begin again, - Josh stopped calmly in front of the freezer while he moved away ices cubes. - What are you doing here?
Sam noticed an exasperated note in Josh's voice.
-I had to come, Josh, they threatened me.
Sam's voice revealed the effort he made to maintain calm. He observed Josh's reaction, who was trying to remove the ice out of the icebox. Sam felt that Josh was surprised by the news.

- What did they threaten you with? - Josh's voice changed from interest to concern.

- With my life.

Josh rubbed his eyes, then his head.

- Don't you believe that you're into all this too deeply?

-Don't you find me different? - Said Sam, angry

Josh was even half - asleep and with rheum in his eyes.

- Different?

-Yes, different! What do you think that is that I have under my eye? - Sam pointed out a bruise that he had above his cheek.

-And this? What you think this is? - Sam muffled words while stretched out his lower lip, showing the laceration.

-Seems like blows... - Josh extended his hand to examine Sam's lip more closely. But Sam impeded him.

-Take away that hand, it hurts! I will tell you something, tonight I was attacked and threatened by a man who made me shit of fear. That man knew things on me and on what I was doing in the last days. He also knew things about my family.

- Do you mean to say that somebody hit you? - Josh's tone was of incredulity. He took out the ice and wrapped one in a dishcloth and gave it to Sam.

- No, Josh, I injured myself to shame people, - Sam said, mad, while he held the ice to his cheek.

- That Rogelia case is thick Josh that I can assure you. And I have a terrible feeling that Gregory Cambryas is in on this mess. I don't know how or why... I don't have sufficient intelligence to discover what is happening. All that we have is a heap of nothing... but there is a criminal aspect in all this, I am completely sure.

- Sam, you're my friend and I don't doubt that this matter distracts us some our works... but I believe that... - Josh said while poured the whiskey, then opened a bottle of soda and poured it on the ice. The cubes collided in the glass. Sam interrupted him. His mind worked at full speed and he began to speak in a higher voice.

- God, Josh... you didn't listen to me, this is important they know about my family... - Josh did not allow him to continue, giving him the glass. Sam took a great sip.

-Sam, I don't like what is happening and I don't see a way of leaving this whole mess. It is difficult to prove the conspiracy theory. Maybe you should learn how to live with questions that don't have answers. - Josh took a sip of his drink, and gestured for Sam to follow him to the living. The clock on the chimney gave the 3.00 AM

-We hardly have something solid on the conspiracy theory ... only a letter and. he took a swig of his whiskey. As he sat down in Josh couch.

-Sam, this is the moment to leave everything as is. The things have taken a different turn. We should leave this to the professionals. Have you made the accusation to the police?

- No, I can't, Josh... - Sam said after a while, - my mother... he threatened me that if I went to the police, he would do something to my mother.

Sam took out the picture that the man threw at him.

-The police! I imagine the conversation. "Hello, my name is Sam Seaborn, I work in the White House and I want to report that today, I was attacked because I believe that something strange is happening in the investigation that the OPA carries out on the spill of petroleum in the Argentinean coast, " This was absurd I would need more information. Sam shook his head and sipped slowly out of his glass.

-But you have the blows that can demonstrate they attacked you.

Sam rose and drank his whiskey in a single swig.

- Josh, for heaven's sake! You are a lawyer, you know that they cannot do anything. There're no witnesses to anything. I make the accusation, the police cannot do anything and the attacker kills my mother!

- Did Gerald or Rupert sees the attacker? Didn't they help you?

- No. Gerald was off duty and Rupert took a vacation.

- Vacation? Rupert! And now what did he do?

- I don't know, but I suppose that these vacations should be forced, too, - Sam said sighing while he stretched on the sofa. - The last time that he took a vacation was because he rotated the screws for the booth's corridor of his plane, and one of the passengers thought that the airplane was falling apart, and then when it landed, Rupert asked on the speaker: "Does anybody have an idea where are we?"

Both laughed and the conversation was loosened a little.

- Well, I remember the time when I traveled in an airplane where he was the pilot. He approached plane in his impeccable uniform, as always, but wearing dark glasses, with a white walking cane and a book under the arm, titled "How to fly." He accented to look at the corridor several times where the passengers were, with that damned book, and waved the cane in front of him...-Josh laughed. -How you can have that type of friends, Sam?

- Well, they asked me the same thing about you and Toby.

- I believe it'll be more amusing to discover what Rupert did this time so that he was given a vacation instead of clarifying the supposed conspiracy theory.

The calm that had covered them disintegrated, Sam jumped of the couch.

- Sam, I'm sorry, I really am. You know that I will help you in all this. You know that tomorrow... - he turned to look at the time, - it is already tomorrow; today I will meet with Truman and see what we can discover. - Josh said in an urging tone, - all this with the Rogelia is a great mess... I believe that we didn't know where we entered, it is as being shipwrecked... I would like to help you but is a shipwreck able to save another shipwreck?

Both looked at each other for a while, then Sam sat down on the sofa, sunk under the weight of his own powerlessness.

part 14

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