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Fatal Transaction

By W. Richard Lawrence

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Prelude

“We need to kill her.”
Mike sought the easy way out at every opportunity. Ulrich Levy gazed out the window at the Rocky Mountains. With his back to his men and the sun on his face, he listened to their whining. Mike and the other two men had no recourse but to do as he directed. If they didn’t, they would face deadly consequences.
“What makes you think I’m willing to lose one of my most valuable assets before I’m done with her?” Levy pivoted to face his men.
Of the three, only Mike had the intellect to think on his own, but if Mike had any real ambition, he wouldn’t be one of Levy’s flunkies. The other two were a complete waste of space, throwaways.
“You can’t control her. You have her access codes, you can get by without her.” Mike was stationed a little in front of the other two men. All three hovered near the door of the office.
“Unlike some of you, she still has a reason to be alive. Besides,
it’s your job to control her, not mine. So what happened now?”
“She went missing. Again.”
Sara was smart, too smart for her own good.
“How?” Levy advanced a few steps.
When he purchased this building as a hideaway from his Denver Tech office, the walls were cracked and the paint peeling. Those conditions were adequate for the people who worked under him, but his office was given a complete makeover before he moved in. Dark cherry wood molding and floors with matching furniture, imported rugs and expensive artwork, all transformed his office into something more comfortable. This room was out of character with the rest of the building, but that didn’t matter to him. The important thing was that the work he did in this office turned a good profit, unlike his Denver Tech companies.
“She snuck away again today, a little before lunch. And she’s been gone all afternoon. That’s the fourth time in the last three weeks.”
Were these men that incompetent? How could one girl cause them so much trouble?
“How’d you lose her this time?” He glared at the three, waiting for an answer.
Mike glanced at Ryan before shifting his attention back to Levy. “She took buses all over town. He lost her on the fourth transfer as she got on the light rail. She must have known he was there.”
“Why was Ryan the only one following her? He’s not smart enough to track a train through a tunnel.”
The man’s inadequacy for this or any other type of work was only surpassed by his inability to communicate. Levy switched his focus. “Where was she headed when you lost her?”
Ryan withdrew a half step, “Uh, she, um, got onto the light rail.”
“Yes, Mike said that. Which one?”
“Um, I, ah, don’t know. I couldn’t see the, ah, number or anything.”
Levy released his breath slowly. “Don’t know?”
“Uh, parking area was full and I, ah, couldn’t find a place to park. Then I got stuck—”
“Which way was it going?”
Ryan pointed.
“East?”
“Uh, no. I mean it was going south. I think?”
“Are you sure it wasn’t north?”
Confusion covered Ryan’s face.
“Step closer, and think real hard.”
“Huh?” Ryan appeared lost.
“I said step closer.”
Ryan advanced a few small steps.
“More.” Levy needed him positioned toward the center of the Persian rug.
Ryan took two more steps.
“Now, think as hard as you can. Think like your life depends on it. Which way was the train headed?”
Ryan stared down at the floor. His jaw clenched tight. After a few seconds his gaze returned to Levy. “I’m, ah, not sure Mr. Levy. I—”
Levy reached inside his coat and extracted his 9 mm Sig Saur P226.
Ryan scanned the room as if hoping for an escape route. Mike and Jarred stepped to one side, out of the line of fire.
Ryan’s large body would stop the hollow points; Mike and Jarred were safe. For now.
Before Ryan could move, Levy placed two rounds into his chest. He was dead by the time his body plummeted to the floor.
The noise from the blast would barely make it out of the office. With cement walls covered by brick and four inches of insulation, the room was nearly soundproof. Besides, in this neighborhood, who’d notice another gunshot?
Ryan’s body crumpled on the Persian rug. At least he’d had the courtesy to confine the mess to a small area. The rug would need to be replaced, but Levy was tired of the pattern anyway.
Casting a glance at Mike, Levy slipped the gun back into its holster. “After you dump the body, replace the rug with something more up to date. Make it Japanese.”
Then he addressed Jarred. “I have an opening for your cousin. He better not disappoint me.”
Levy grabbed his briefcase, “I have another meeting.”
He stepped over the body. Stopping at the door he added,
“Jarred, pay a visit to Sara tonight. But keep it light. I still need her able to think and type.”

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