Page 93 of No Questions Asked

“Good. In turn, I’ll be honest with you. I came here fully expecting to terminate our relationship. It’s been a disappointment so far. But you’re correct that it would take me longer to recover my operations here in this region if I have continued interference from the federal police. I’m very interested in making this region more stable for my business pursuits. So, before I change my mind and move forward with finding a new partner, I’d like to confirm you have the relationships and abilities that you claim. So, prove to me why we should continue together.”

Martim didn’t hold back. He spent the next hour demonstrating his unwavering loyalty toEl Esqueletoby naming the important and high-ranking government, political and law enforcement connections who could deliver.El Esqueletoonly interrupted him a few times to ask how he was convinced that these men wouldn’t turn on him. Thankfully, Martim was able to provide him with specific examples of how they’d helped him in the past, described in detail the debts they owed him and the crimes they’d committed. When he said that he had just talked to one of them yesterday,El Esqueletomade him open his mobile phone and prove it.

The more he spoke, the more relieved he felt. He knew he’d convinced the man when his questions changed from the details about the people he’d mentioned toward what else Martim might be able to do to advance their collective business interests. He was just winding up when he heard a thump from behind him.

Startled, he shifted in his seat, stunned to see Slash—the American who’d attacked him—stroll into the room, pointing a gun at them.

What in the world was going on?

“Well, well, why am I not surprised to see you here?” Slash said to him. “Discussing your criminal enterprise, I presume. You keep unusual and dangerous company for a representative of the Brazilian government. I recommend you both surrender, as the police will be here shortly. And don’t count on any help from your friend back there.” Slash pointed over his shoulder where Martim could no longer see the hired muscle. “He’s taking a very long nap.”

Shocked, Martim turned to look atEl Esqueleto. The man was frozen, his position unchanged since Slash entered. Martim was certain it meant the man had additional resources coming. It was unfathomable to imagine he had only one man protecting him. They just needed to stall the American until the others could get into place.

Martim clutched his briefcase across his chest. He’d all but forgotten about it as he spun his story toEl Esqueleto. Now he remembered he had a gun inside. He slid his hand inside the partially open briefcase waiting for the right moment to withdraw it. When Slash moved closer, his focus onEl Esqueleto, Martim yanked out the gun.

“Drop your gun!” Martim yelled at the American, his palms sweaty. His heart was racing, but more with excitement than fear. This would be the final test of his loyalty toEl Esqueleto.

The American looked at him in surprise. “The guard let you keep a gun?”

“I said, drop it,” Martim said with more authority. “I’ll blow your head off.”

After a moment, Slash dropped the gun.

“Good. Now, kick it away from you.” The American did what he said, and then to Martim’s amusement, tried to bargain his way out of the situation.

“You’re making a big mistake,” he said. “None of your actions to date have been associated with murder. But if you pull that trigger, you’ll have added significantly to your list of crimes. You can drop the gun or use it to help us arrest one of the most wanted criminals in Brazil. Prove where your loyalties lie and receive leniency. Otherwise, you’ll rot in prison.”

Nervously, Martim stole a glance atEl Esqueleto. The man had nerves of steel. He still hadn’t moved, as if he were testing Martim’s loyalty, too. Martim considered turning him in for just a fraction of a second, knowing that if he betrayed the cartel, he’d die a horrible and gruesome death. So, in the end, he really had no choice.

He looked at the American and pulled the trigger.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Lexi

I should have been reviewing the files from my team in New York, but instead, I’d spent the past hour doing research on Natelli Sherwood. What I’d found out had been interesting.

She’d been born in Boston. Her mother was a professor of genetics at Harvard and her father owned an advertising agency. She’d attended Johns Hopkins University in Maryland, earning an undergraduate degree in biology with a minor in chemistry. She’d gone to MIT for a master’s degree, and then a PhD in microbiology, just as she’d told us when we first arrived. She’d never married nor had any children. She’d been involved with Vaccitex at its inception eleven years prior, and was personal friends with founders Hayden Pogue and Lilith Burbridge. When she was a junior at Johns Hopkins, Natelli had gone on a yearlong study at Sapienza University in Rome, just as she’d mentioned to Slash and me. When I compared the dates to her life, her timing in Italy coincided with exactly the time that Slash had been born and subsequently abandoned at a church led by Father Emilio Armando.

Slash’s past was filled with mystery. He’d been left at Father Armando’s church when he was just three days old and eventually turned over to the Italian social services. Shortly thereafter, a foster family had taken him in and subsequently disappeared with him for seven years. Father Armando had never stopped looking for the baby. Eventually Slash had turned up at a hospital in Sperlonga, identified by his fingerprints. Just a few months ago, he’d discovered the identity of his biological father, and learned his biological mother was still alive. Slash had elected not to seek her out, but the memory of what we’d learned was fresh in my head. I’m curious by nature and felt obligated to check it out.

Regardless, the fact that Natelli had been in Italy at the same time Slash was left at the church proved exactly nothing, but that wasn’t the compelling evidence for me. That evidence had been found in her PhD dissertation titledInvestigations into Malaria Pathogenesis. Not the topic nor the findings—which had been interesting and had certainly played a role in her current occupation—but the short message of acknowledgment. Natelli had thanked her parents, her thesis advisor, the Italian microbiologist who had mentored her as an undergraduate biology student, and her close friend and confidant, Father Emilio Armando. That was the connection I’d been looking for—a direct link to Slash. Father Emilio Armando, the man who was like a father to him.

Could Natelli Sherwood be Slash’s biological mother?

I knew it was a reach, but it wasn’t inconceivable that she’d somehow learned of our discovery regarding Slash’s father and found a way to insert herself into our lives just to get a better look at us without revealing herself.

Or had I lost my mind?

Ever since we’d got to Brazil I felt like she’d been overly interested in Slash. I caught her looking at him several times, a wistful look on her face. While lots of people looked at Slash because of his uncommonly good looks, her expression was different, more thoughtful. But more importantly, how did she know Slash worked at the NSA? No one knew that. Finn and I hadn’t told Hayden or Lilith because his occupation was not for personal consumption. As far as they were concerned, he was the CEO of Frisson International and that was it. I thought maybe Gwen had spilled the beans, but when I pulled her over after lunch, she swore she hadn’t mentioned it to Natelli or to anyone. She understood security concerns, so I believed her.

Then how had Natelli known Slash worked at the NSA?

A ping indicating I’d received an email interrupted my train of thought. It was from Slash. He’d sent it about an hour prior, but with the slow connection, it had taken that long to show up in my box.

I opened it and started reading. It was one sentence. He told me to read the attachment and take whatever actions I saw necessary. I opened the attachment and quickly flipped through the material. It was a compendium of emails in English between an executive of the Indian pharmaceutical company, Pharma Star, and Martim Alves.

Martim Alves? What the heck?

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