Michele Bravo Playing With Fire, ch 4

I.

Gus Keller lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and swore softly to himself. He’d been snookered. Michele Bravo had blogged that she was returning to her home because of a family emergency. He’d staked out her home for five days, and no one had gone in or out of it.

She was Taran Tula, he knew it. And she’d snookered him again.

Unless…unless…when she’d said she was “returning home,” she’d meant to the family home? Instead of to her own home. Could it be as simple as that?

He took another drag on his cigarette, and then his heart stopped and he forgot to breathe.

Someone was standing by the passenger side door.

A woman.

A fat woman.

She bent down, looking at him through the glass. It was Taran Tula.

Mouth dry, he leaned over and unlocked the door.

She opened it and got in.

“If this had been a movie,” she said in an Italian accent, “you would have left that door unlocked, so I could have climbed right in, pointed a gun at you, and said, ‘Drive.’ You have destroyed the dramatic flow of this scene before it even began.”

“Do you have a gun?” asked Keller.

She smiled. “I always have a gun. Do you have a gun?”

“I…yes.”

“Very good. Do you have your suitcase?”

“My…suitcase?”

“Yes, Mr. Largo, your suitcase. If you are going to interest yourself in my business, you should be prepared to travel at any moment.”

“I…yes…that’s true…but I…”

“Do not distress yourself, Mr. Largo. You will not make the mistake a second time, I am sure. I am leaving for Sydney, Australia tonight. The 5 pm flight out of Newark. I expect you to be on the same flight. We have business to conduct there, you and I.”

“The Entarte Kunst business?” Keller said desperately. “That’s got nothing to do with Australia!”

“No, and I regret my precipitate departure from that job. Have your employers sent you here to chastise me?”

“Uh….no.”

She raised a hand to his cheek and caressed it. “Then you alone wish to chastise me?”

“I…uh….yes. It…it wasn’t very professional of you…”

“Neither was the replacement of one Mr. Largo with another. I should have been informed of the change prior to our meeting.”

“Well,” Keller lifted his hands helplessly. What did she mean? Was the Mr. Largo identity like the dread pirate Rogers, assumed by whoever was strong enough to wrest the title away from another? Could she not know that he was in law enforcement? Did she still think he was a professional assassin?

“Well, what?” she demanded.

“I was given the job. And the name. I wasn’t told why or how it came about.”

She nodded. “Very true. The minions, they are given the jobs, but on a need-to-know basis. And I suppose you lost quite a bit of money when the job fell through. Well, I will make it up to you with this job in Australia. It will be very profitable. And you will see a true professional in action.”

“And this job…is it as an art thief…or as an assassin?”

She smiled at him. “I said we both have business there, Mr. Largo. If you wish. So. Will you be on the plane at 5?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be there.”

She caressed his cheek again. “Ciao, Mr. Largo.”

She got out of the car, and waved at him to leave. She wanted him to drive off…and she was just standing there…why wasn’t she going into her house?

Keller did as he was bid, watching her out of the rear view mirror as he drove away. In her turn, she turned and walked in the opposite direction. Not into her house..or rather into Michele Bravo’s house. Was she not Michele Bravo then? But how had she known where he was ….what he was doing?

Enough of that. Australia. She wanted him to go with her to Australia? To assassinate someone?

Should he inform his superiors?

No. He was on a job, that’s all they knew and all they needed to know. If he needed help, he’d call them in.

Australia, he thought again. Assassination. She'd looked so...so attractive...but she must be so cold blooded...

He looked at his dashboard clock. Only a few hours before 5. He had to get home and start to pack!

Keller floored the accelerator.


II.

Michele Bravo walked all the way down the block. She had her compact out and by tilting it covertly she was able to watch as Keller’s car disappear around a corner. Immediately she crossed to the other side of the street, went into her house, popped open a can of Pepsi from the fridge, and began her own packing for Australia.

Into her laptop case she popped a few DVDs, including one of North by Northwest. She needed to brush up on it.

As for Gus Keller…the SCD had sent an inexperienced agent to her, to play the part of a hired assassin. She would take him on the ride of his life, before...well, before deciding what to do with him.

She drank Pepsi, and she smiled. Revenge, as someone had once said, was a dessert best served cold.