Mandy

After Crusher leaves to relieve Romeo and Jules, we hop in with Anthony and head back to the hospital so that Gator can relieve Bolt. Trey appears to be deep in thought, probably trying to work through the same inconsistencies that I saw in Tommy’s story. It makes little sense that Carly would be completely responsible for everything when Tommy gained four hundred and seventy five million dollars. That definitely doesn’t add up for me.

“This is one hell of an upgrade from the Suburban,” Gator says to Anthony with a reserved laugh. “You win the lottery or something?”

“No, it’s his,” Anthony nods toward Trey. “He didn’t want to be seen getting in and out of the brown beast.”

“I don’t blame him,” Gator scoffs.

“So why do they call you Gator?” I ask him, not seeing an obvious reason.

“I grew up in Gainesville, Florida and played football for the Gators,” he says with a glint of pride in his eyes. “I hoped to make it in the pros, but instead I ended up in seal training. It was basically ten times as much work for one tenth of the money.”

“I’ll bet it’s pretty awesome to have those skills, though,” I reply, thinking about what these guys must be capable of doing. “I would love to go on secret missions and kick some ass.”

“I think Mandy wishes she would’ve gone into criminal justice, instead of law school,” Trey says, giving me a squeeze. “She’s definitely getting into all of this.”

“I told her that we could use her current talents to help keep us organized and on the straight and narrow,” Anthony tells me, looking back through the mirror. “These guys are always pushing the envelope.”

“I told her I would hire her to keep me out of trouble too,” Trey replies. “By the way, what do you know about International Trusts?” he asks, turning to me.

“I know that people use them to avoid paying U.S. taxes and to protect themselves from civil lawsuits,” I tell him. “It basically stops a civil suit dead in its tracks, because the plaintiff has to sue the trust in a Belizean court. The government down there makes it almost impossible to get the case tried in court.”

“So, that would explain why Tommy transferred all of his stock to Belize prior to selling it,” Trey declares, figuring out his motivation. “Even if Bill and Aileen had tried to sue him, it wouldn’t have been an easy road.”

“That’s why people hire us to settle the score outside of the court system,” Gator says with a sneer. “It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a little manual persuasion.” He pats his fist before turning back toward the front of the vehicle.

“Is there a way to track down Carly?” Trey asks the guys. “I really want to hear her side of the story. I have a hard time believing this was all her idea.”

“Well, she had to land in Belize City,” Anthony tells us. “It’s not that big of a place, so I’m sure we could track her down. I’ve got a couple guys in Chetumal who will track anyone down for a fee.”

“How much?” Trey asks, eager to get things moving.

“A couple grand per day,” Anthony says with a shrug. “They’re good guys.”

“Let’s do it,” Trey replies, sitting up in the seat and leaning forward. “There probably aren’t too many banks in Belize City are there?”

“I think this might help,” I tell him with a smile, holding up my phone and showing him a picture. “Tommy had little notes written all over his desk calendar, so I took a picture of it. Look along the side here, it says Atlantic International.” I enlarge the photo so he can see it.

“You planted three trackers and took a picture of his calendar?” Trey asks with wide eyes. “You definitely are efficient.”

“Hey, I wanted to do a good job on my first mission,” I reply, looking around the side of the seat at Anthony. “That way, maybe I’ll get more work.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Anthony says with a nod, but I honestly don’t think he will take me seriously.

“We should put in a call to that FBI Agent that’s working with Detective Kelly too,” Trey mentions. “He claims to have the ability to track any money moving through the SWIFT banking system. He could start with any large transfers coming from Atlantic International into the U.S.”

By the time we arrive at the hospital, both Trey and I are rejuvenated by the idea of going in a new direction. I send Harris a text message asking him to check on whether or not there are any trust names listed in the Firefly Media stock ownership records. We are probably going to have to get creative in order to implicate Tommy, especially if he is being truthful about Carly’s role in the whole matter.

Trey

After Mandy airdrops a copy of the photo to each of our phones, I send a copy of it to Agent Mitchell and Detective Kelly. We spend the rest of the ride pouring over the details found on Tommy’s calendar. Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I am focused on a crude little drawing of a lighthouse with the words white house – block north scrawled next to it.

“Do you know if there is a lighthouse in Belize City?” I ask Anthony, hoping that it is a clue to Carly’s whereabouts.

“Yeah, there is one at the southern tip. I don’t remember the name, but it starts with a B,” he says, squinting in the mirror as if he’s racking his brain.

“Baron Bliss lighthouse?” Mandy asks, proving once again that Google knows everything.

“That’s it,” he confirms with a shake of his head. “I never would’ve come up with that name.”

Doing a quick search of Google Earth, I see that there are three or four white houses in that vicinity. “This definitely narrows down our search,” I tell Anthony, showing him the houses on my phone. “Tommy’s note says it’s a white house a block north of the lighthouse. Could it really be that easy?”

“Well, it could be if he is one of those guys who jots things down things unconsciously while he’s on the phone,” Anthony says, now examining the photo himself. “This is a definite fuckup for someone who claims not to make mistakes. Either that or he wanted someone to find it.” He looks back at us with a definite smirk. “Alright, lets go in so you can replace Bolt,” he says to Gator before stepping out of the vehicle.

Reaching the hospital entrance, I can see Mom and Vanessa standing in front of the discharge desk. Making my way through the revolving door, I now see that Tyler is sitting in a wheelchair next to Vanessa.

“Is he going home?” I ask, feeling more than a little surprised. “He just got out of ICU yesterday.”

“Dr. Novacek told us he is stable, so it’s safe to take him home,” Mom says giving him a smile.

“Hey Bro!” Tyler says, giving me a wide grin that I hadn’t seen from him in years.

“Hey, Tyler,” I reply reaching out to grab his hand. “You’re looking good. Do you feel alright?”

“Yeah, I feel pretty good, but my knee is really sore for some reason,” he tells me with a puzzled look on his face. He looks down and begins to work the sides of it with his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s an old injury,” I tell him, wanting to gauge his reaction. “You need to have a knee replacement as soon as you are strong enough.”

Mom shoots me a dirty look, but Tyler simply replies, “Ahh, that makes sense. That thing really hurts.” He continues to rub it while I introduce Gator to Mom and Vanessa.

“Dr. Novacek seemed anxious to get Tyler released after learning why Bolt was staying in his room,” Mom whispers to Anthony and me as Bolt comes trotting down the hallway. “Dr. Potaturri’s death is now being investigated as a murder, so it hit a little too close to home.”

“I just told the doc to give me a call if he sees anything suspicious,” Bolt tells us as he joins our small group. “Romeo is pulling up to the main entrance with the limo.” He points out the window as the shiny black limousine comes to a stop just outside the door.

“Are you ready to go home?” Mom asks Tyler as she releases the brakes and Vanessa begins to push him toward the door.

“Do I know where home is?” he asks, with an uncertain look on his face.

“Don’t worry, you will see,” Mom says, patting him on the arm. “It will be good for all of us to be together for a few days,” she adds, turning to make eye contact with Vanessa.

“I agree,” Vanessa replies with a soft sigh. “Hopefully, being in the place where he grew up will trigger some good memories for him.”

Mandy

Silvia and Vanessa are the most relaxed that I have seen either of them since the day I met them. It’s probably due to the fact that Tyler is being released from the hospital and no one has died since the Alpha 9 arrived on the scene. After we get them situated in the limo, Trey and I hop in with Anthony to follow them over to Trump Tower.

“Tyler looks pretty good,” I tell Trey as we pull out of the parking lot and turn north on First Avenue. “He doesn’t seem to have any withdrawal symptoms.”

“Yeah, I was just disappointed to see him focused on that knee again,” Trey replies with a look of disgust. “He needs to go in for surgery as soon as possible. He obviously has been dealing with a lot of pain.”

“If they aren’t going to give him any pain pills, hopefully he can have it done soon.” I can only imagine what it’s like to be in excruciating pain all day long.

“There is a black sedan tailing us again,” Anthony says, his eyes darting between all three of the mirrors. “They are keeping their distance, but they are definitely following us.”

“Are they trying to intimidate us or do you think we are actually in danger?” I ask, not really sure if I really want to know the truth.

“I think you two are in danger as long as Tommy knows you are still snooping around and looking for answers,” Anthony replies, giving us a harsh glare through the mirror.

“So you think we should just keep letting him get away with everything?” Trey asks, sitting forward in his seat and returning a glare of his own.

“Not at all, but stop poking the bear for a minute,” he replies, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You’ll get a lot better results if you are a little more covert instead of attacking him head-on,” he explains in a completely rational tone.

“I suppose you are right,” Trey relents. “His arrogance just pisses me off, so it makes me want to go toe to toe with him. I’d love to introduce his smug face to my fist.” Trey sits back, looking out the side window.

There is a long history between Trey and Tommy that goes back to when Tommy stole Vanessa from him in high school. I’m sure that part of him would love to have a reason to beat the shit out of Tommy, but it’s probably not going to go down that way.

I reach over and place my hand on his thigh and give him a warm smile. “You hurt a guy like Tommy by bruising his ego, not his face. We will find a mistake somewhere that will take a toll on his reputation as well as his bank account.”

“That’s why he threw all the money into a Trust in Belize though,” Trey replies still focused on civil action. “I’ve read about how hard they are to penetrate.”

“But there are two organizations who have had some success,” I remind him. “The SEC and the IRS. I’m still an attorney with the SEC, so we’ll pay a visit to the New York branch tomorrow morning with or without Harris’ help.”

“Okay,” Trey relents. “We’ll try it your way.”

“In the meantime, I’ll contact my guys in Chetumal and have them run down Carly Snow,” Anthony adds, still scanning his rearview mirrors. “If she is in charge, she obviously hasn’t curtailed the mission yet or this car wouldn’t be tailing us.”

He makes a call to Romeo letting him know that we are going to lag back and create some distance between the limousine and us. “There is no use endangering everyone,” he tells us after hanging up the phone. “Besides, I don’t think we are in much danger in this vehicle, except for maybe getting a paint scuff or a dent.”

“Hey, don’t mess up my new ride,” Trey replies with a laugh. “If you start swapping paint, you’ll have to go back to driving your brown one.”

Anthony cocks his head and shoots Trey a look without saying a word.

“I was joking,” he says with another chuckle. “You can go ahead and beat the hell out of it, as long as we take down Carly and Tommy. This thing is insured.”

As we pull up to the corner of fifty-sixth and fifth in front of Trump Tower, we are greeted by an extremely rare open parking spot. Anthony swings straight into it and looks back over his left shoulder as the black sedan is forced to continue past us. Unfortunately, the windows are too dark to see who is inside and there is a license plate cover that prevents us from getting the plate number from the back of the car.

“Romeo already dropped off the others, so you guys go on in,” he says, “I’m going to go park in the garage with him. That way he and Bolt can keep an eye on both vehicles.”

Trey and I jump out of the vehicle and jog quickly down to the street corner, not feeling overly safe since the black sedan is still somewhere in the vicinity. “I wonder who was in that car,” I ask as we round the corner and come to the famous gold doors of Trump Tower.

“I’m willing to bet that one of them is the blond spiky haired dude, The Ghost or whatever they call him,” Trey replies, looking back over his shoulder. “That fucker creeps me out.”