1. 07 P.M.
A deal is a deal, my friend”, the General said ending the call. He sat on his wheelchair, pipe in hand and in front of one of the numerous plasma TVs that lined the wall.
He felt an overwhelming sense of power wash over him as he monitored all the missions, deals and finances of the Malibu. He doesn’t touch; he just sits, controls and watches. For many years till his rise in the underworld, he had tried as much as possible to distance himself from direct involvement with any of his numerous client’s requests. Normally he just did what he was paid to do and that was all. Tonight’s event would etch his name in the sands of time. The world would know him for who he truly is. Revenge has a metallic sweetness . . .
A young man probably in his mid-thirties stepped into the massive control room.
“The reports you asked for”, he said dropping a black flash drive on the glass table.
“The girl?” He asked fixing his gaze on him.
“Our men are still working on that, sir. Our man on the inside just reported that the delegates are coming from Rome”.
“Delegates?” He asked frowning.
“Yes sir. Our man on the inside said that they are sending in someone else”, he said unfolding a report sheet. “An Italian man, Josef Porteliuz, 75. He’s currently serving a life imprisonment in Italy. That’s the dossier I prepared on him”.
For the first time, a wry smile crossed his face. “Even the angels eat beans. I should have thought as much. I need a positive response on that girl; it’s our only hope of bargain”.
“Yes sir. We’ll try our best, boss”.
The General swerved the electric wheel chair round, a sign that the meeting has ended.