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my present occupation, but I cooperated. That is what office workers want – information. And Laura’s being practically shouted ‘office worker.’ Her pale complexion, her soft hands which clearly hadn’t used a gun in months. The perfume that she wore made a promise of relaxed days and wild nights. I could smell it faintly, even over the cigarette stench.

“I’m his uncle,” I answered. “His father is my brother.” My nephew, Israeli-born but American by upbringing. His life was in danger, and even though every minute was important, I had to slow down and cooperate because those were the rules of the game. I showed the utmost patience, because I had no choice in the matter.

“Why do you think Jonathan called you?”

“I guess because he understood that he had gotten himself in trouble and wanted someone to help him without judging him.” I shot her a look that was supposed to be a wry smile, “Something like a big brother, not like the responsible adult. Maybe the fact that I am only a visitor gave me that status.” In a moment of clarity, I added, “Maybe my job mentoring kids also prepared me for this honor. That’s what I have been doing over the last couple of years.”

“How long are you planning on staying here?”

“Describe what you mean by ‘here.’” I answered, trying to anticipate the answer she was looking for.

“Here, in the United States.”

“Not much longer.” I answered obscurely and added, “I want to return to Europe and travel… mainly to visit friends and then to my family. It should be before the school year starts, because my plan is to go home and train kids.”

“Train them for what?”

“Martial arts, but also survival training. How to light a fire out in the open, put up a tent… things like that. I think kids have forgotten what it’s like to be outside, in nature.”

“And your family lives in Israel?”

“Yes.” I thought of Hadas, no long among the living, except in my heart, but added, “My parents, another brother. We are a family of Israeli farmers.”

“Is that where your connection with nature comes from? Are you a farmer as well?”

“I have no choice, because it is a family business. But I am the black sheep of the family of white sheep.” I took a sip of the cool beer, “I assume every family has one like that.” I hadn’t offered to supply information about my being a Mossad agent and I wasn’t going to start now. Besides, the fact was that I’d honestly prefer farming to being stuck inside, sitting behind a desk with a stapler, a dress code and petty office politics.

Laura smiled and lowered her eyes for just a moment, enough to let me realize that I had hit a weak spot. I asked, “Are you also the black cat?”

“Me?” Her smile was pretty, open and honest. “I am what is called ‘the next generation’ in the security forces of the United States of America,” she stated proudly. “My father was with the New York police department, my uncle in the CIA. My brother was in the Navy. So I inhabit the most natural of places for someone like me: the office that coordinates efforts between the different security forces.”

“It surely seems that way. Let’s get back to business.” I felt as if I had played the game long enough. “This casino and that character, Murat Lenika, what do you know about him?”

“I won’t try and make matters pretty.” Laura Ashton looked into my eyes seriously, and said, “Murat Lenika is trouble and he has been on our radar for a while.”

“What do we know about him? I took a symbolic sip from my beer and added, “I mean about the real estate property, where do you think he could hide the kid?”

“You sound like a security man,” She threw at me with a hint of a cold smile. “I expect you not to interfere with the ongoing investigation, okay? We are already working on it now. We have teams that are checking up everything we already know; we have taken out search warrants to search their estates and tapped all his phones which are known to us.”

That was only a small piece of the information that I wanted to get. The other part was the information about Zorro. I said, “I feel frustrated sitting here while the kid is being held by those scumbags.”

“We are already checking every avenue. Our people are checking out the cameras at the intersections, surrounding the place where Jonathan’s car was seen, and we are looking out for cars belonging to Lenika.”

“He has a whole fleet of cars. Just at the casino alone, I saw five vans.”

“You are right about that,” she cut me off. “He has a respectable fleet and I am not only talking about those that belong to the casino. He and his uncle also have some private cars. This will take some time, but we will find him eventually.”

“What can we do to shorten the procedures? How can we think outside the box?”

“What we are going to do is to try and follow the money trail. Murat Lenika is the son of Kiril Lenika, one of the bosses of the Albanian mafia in England. This mafia is divided into small groups, but his is the biggest, which means this is an up and coming mafia. It is establishing itself as one of the most dangerous. We still don’t know why, but a few months ago his youngest son arrived. Murat. Maybe to take over his uncle’s business. Kiril Lenika’s younger brother arrived in the States in the eighties and built an absolutely legitimate business. On the other hand, there could be something behind this story.”

“Who does he do business with and what kind of business does he transact?”

“So…. That is where the problem starts.” Laura sipped at her whiskey without really drinking it. “Each mafia has its own expertise. The Albanian mafia controls the smuggling of vodka and tobacco, stealing

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