JON WAS STARTING to turn and walk out when the call was answered in New York. "Hello Vincent," Lucas said cooly. Jon paused at the door as he listened to the call. "Everything is alright here. Yes yes, the accident was terrible news and it is in fact related to why I called you," He paused and listened to what Vincent said. Then he gave a hearty laugh and said, "No no, It was not Jonathan in the car… and he is not in a hospital. Matter of fact, he is here with me, but still, we might have to snag on your retirement plan for a while." Lucas kept quiet and listened. Then he looked up at Jon who still stood by the door and gave a small nod. Jon raised an eyebrow in question, Lucas held the phone from his ear and said, "He wants to speak to you." "Why did you tell him I was here?" Jon muttered as he collected the phone. "Master Stone," Vincent's voice came through the line. "Vincent," Jon replied. "It was a relief to hear that you were not involved in the accident." Jon wanted to
"BY THE SHOCKED look on your face, I am guessing that they are not your bodyguards," Aaron said without any worries in his voice. Jon shook his head. "No, they are not." Aaron sighed but didn't say anything more. He put his arm along the headrest of Aaron Jr.'s seat like he was trying to shield his son from whatever it was that was out there. Jon did not need to think hard to guess who had put the tail on him. It was obviously Maxim Ivanov and Antonio Orsatti. He sucked in a breath through his mouth and whipped out his phone. He dialed a number and said, "Hello, Lucas… I am being followed." "Followed?" Lucas asked, "What do you mean by that?" "I mean, there is a fu–" He glanced at Aaron Jr. by his side and met the eyes of Aaron, " – fudging car following me. A brown sedan with two guys in it." "How do you know?" Lucas asked. "My guest saw them from the moment we left the tower," Jon explained. "For fuck's sake," Lucas swore. "There's a kid beside me," Jon said. "Is the call
THEY GOT TO the tower a half hour later. Luke parked near a large pickup truck. Aaron and Aaron Jr. got out. "So, is there any agreement that I would need to sign?" Aaron asked, standing near the front of the truck. Jon got out of his car and said, "Yes, I assume there might be," He nodded at the truck, "She yours?" Aaron nodded proudly and laughed, "Do you have anyone in this tower that looks like they can handle this?" Jon thought for a while and shook his head. "I thought as much," Aaron laughed and slapped the car's bonnet lightly. "When your crew arrives," Jon said, "I will have the contract ready for you to sign." Aaron nodded, "Deal." He hopped into the car beside his son and started the engine smoothly. The loud rumbling of the engine filled the quiet garage. "See you soon, Mr. Stone," Aaron called as he drove off. Jon nodded as he watched the car leave the garage. He collected the documents that Maria had signed from Luke and he rode the elevator to his office floor.
THE DINING TABLE was filled with people for breakfast once again. Just like before. Vincent had brought Mark home and they had given him a couple of rooms for his stay. So it was Jon, Lucas, Rick, Paxton, Vincent, and Mark O'Donnell. Not like the family it was. But also not so far off. Jon walked down the stairs and saw everyone was busy eating. He gave a nod to Mark O'Donnell whose eyes traveled everywhere as he ate. He gave a nod to Vincent who sat on the left side, next to Jon. His face was buried in the morning paper. He fist-bumped Paxton and Rick as he walked past them and gave Lucas a look as he sat down at the head of the table. Immediately, a cup of coffee was placed before him by a maid and he took a small sip. As usual, there was the occasion chatter at the table. Rick and Paxton had taken an immediate liking for Mark and they talked in hush tones as they ate. Jon cleared his throat to get Mark's attention before asking, "How is the unwinding of the tape coming?" Mark
"WHAT DO YOU mean by he saw you?" Maxim snarled. "Exactly how it sounds," The thick Russian snarled back, "He almost came to us. His eyes, Maxim, they looked like they wanted to kill us." Maxim stared directly into the eyes of his assassin and yelled, "You look into my eyes. Tell me what they look like." The three Russian assassins behind flinched, but not that thick one. He stared straight at Maxim but did not say anything. "Him, coming after you means that Nicole must have told him something…" He groaned and rusted his hair with his fingers, "Just to keep a low profile," Maxim snarled after a few seconds of harsh breathing, "And you fucked that up!" "We are not babysitters," the thick Russian snapped, "We are assassins!" "And you even failed at that," Maxim countered, "We would not be in any of this mess if you had just killed the woman in the first place." "Uh, we are not in any mess," the thick Russian snapped, "You," He pointed at Maxim's chest, "You are in a mess. And you
"GET US TWO shots of Russian vodka, eh?" Igor called to the bartender. She looked at them dryly and lazily reached for the cabinet of drinks behind her. She poured it into two small glass cups and pushed it expertly so that it came to a stop directly in front of each man. "I didn't come here to drink, Uncle," Maxim muttered. "But nothing is stopping you," Igor said, drinking his glass in one gulp. He patted Maxim behind his back and said, "Go on," He urged. Maxim hesitantly drained his glass. "Bring us two more, eh," Igor called again to the bartender. Maxim looked like he was about to argue, but he clamped his mouth shut and allowed himself to be cajoled into drinking by his uncle. After they had gone through 4 shots of vodka, his uncle Igor finally said, "So… You are here." Maxim nodded, "I am." "What brings you here?" Igor asked, "You look troubled.""That is because I am troubled," Maxim said. "Dis I tell you about a tape?" "What tape?" Igor asked absently. He signaled to
"Have a seat, please," Mr Mitrovic said. He gestured with a broad hand at the two chairs opposite his desk. Jon and Vincent took their seats and Mitrovic sat down on his leather chair. He pinned Jon with a stare and said, "Okay, Mr. Stone, you have my attention. What do you have for me?" Jon reached into his jacket and brought out a copy of the tape.He placed the tape on the table and Mitrovic leaned forward and took it. He ran his finger through the sides and examined it closely with his eyes before bringing out a player from a drawer beneath his desk and inserting the tape. He pressed the play button and the clearer voices of Nicole and Maxim poured through.They remained in silence as the tape played on. Mitrovic's face did not change and he kept his gaze locked with Jon's for the full length of the tape. When the tape scratched to an end, it was like they had all held their breath throughout. Mitrovic pressed the elect button and the tape whirred out of the player. Without s
"YOU SHOULD STOP by our tower for a bit before heading back to New Jersey," Vincent said as they got back on the plane. "I think I will," Jon replied. Vincent nodded and said something into the phone hanging by his side. He spoke to the pilot, telling him to redirect their course of flight to New York."Do you think Mr. Mitrovic will do anything?" Jon asked when they were airborne. Vincent nodded. "I know him from way back. Your father did too, and there are not more capable people in this world than him." Jon relaxed. He reclined his seat and let his thoughts drift. In the case where Mitrovic did not do anything to Jon's satisfaction, Jon already had a plan formulated in his head on how he would exact revenge. He thought back and tried to align his thoughts."Tell me again, how was my mother killed?" Jon asked. The question threw Vincent off for a second. That was not what he was expecting at all. He looked out the window and tried to gather his thoughts before replying. "Uh,"
"HOW ARE YOU feeling today?" Jon asked as they left the hospital. His hand was around Nicole's waist, supporting her as they walked out with her nurse in tow. "A lot better," Nicole smiled. "That room was starting to feel a little crampy." Jon chuckled. "There is a lot of space where you are going now." Nicole smiled. They got into the waiting limousine and Jon's driver pulled out of the parking lot. It had been a week since Maxim fled for Russia and things had been relatively quiet. There were no talks about assassins or attempted murders anymore. For Jon, the only annoying part was Antonio Orsatti, strutting around like a peacock. He had to do something about him. But what? He asked himself. "What are you thinking about?" Nicole's voice drew Jon back to the present. He shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. I'm excited you are coming home with me." Nicole gave him a knowing smile and said. "Maxim is behind us now."Jon coughed out a laugh. "Why said anything about Maxim?" He as
JON DROVE TO the hospital parked, at the end of the lot and sat in the car, taking deep breaths and calming himself. He ran his hands over the steering wheel. There was a loud whine of an engine behind him. He turned to see a Porsche squeal into the parking lot some yards away from him. He turned to see Antonio get out of the car. He flipped a loose strand of his long hair behind his ear. He put on sunshades and then walked into the hospital. Jon was in awe of what Antonio was doing here. "What the fuck?" Jon muttered under his breath. "When did they even release him?" He asked himself. He wanted to follow Antonio and confront him about what he was doing here, but he decided to wait it out and see how it played out. He did not have to wait for long because, after a few minutes, he saw Antonio coming back out. Jon opened his car door and folded himself out. Antonio was taken aback for half a second when he saw Jon standing in the parking lot. He looked hesitant to approach Jon bu
THE MANSION WAS lit up with sirens the following morning. A servant tapped on Jon's door to wake him up. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and went down in his pajamas. Alex Brandon and Mirtovic stood in his grand foyer. He stepped out just at the same time as Vincent, who was a little more formally dressed than Jon. "Head director," Vincent nodded at Mitrovic, and then he turned to Brandon, "Head director," he nodded again. "To what do I owe this surprise?" Jon asked dryly. Lucas came out of his suite and eyed the men. If looks could kill, both Mitrovic and Alex would have dropped dead. "Have a seat and drinks maybe," Mitrovic said. Jon snorted and led them into the study room. Lucas poured out 5 glasses of Whiskey. Vincent declined his, "A little too early for alcohol. Don't you think?" Jon nodded in agreement. He collected the glass from Lucas but did not drink it. "What do you have to tell us?" Mitrovic took a drink from his cup before saying, "News just got to us.
"YOU CAN GO in now, Mister Stone." Jon stood up and gave a small nod at the FBI agents who had spoken to him. He walked into the room to see Lucas seated. Lucas looked up and gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I told you something would happen," Lucas said when Jon came in. "They screwed it up, didn't they?" Jon nodded. He paced the small room and massaged his eye socket. "You should call Vincent," Lucas said. Jon stopped and looked at Lucas like he was about to argue. But then he nodded again, "I will. What were the charges against you? Why did they bring you in?"Lucas scoffed. "Did they need to have a reason?" He asked back. "I saw the way the Brandon guy looked at me that first time, he wanted to bring me in from there." Jon didn't have anything to say to that. So he sighed and said, "I am going to get you out of here." Lucas nodded as Jon left the room. He got back into his car and sped out of the parking lot. His mind was spinning as he drove into the mansion. H
IT WAS ONE importance of having numerous contacts in every area of the world. One of his contacts had informed him of the incoming arrest. Maxim had been in the kitchen, making himself breakfast when he received a text from his contact saying that there was a big arrest of a Russian coming the next day, all the bosses in the head offices were riled up and prepared. That was all the heads up that Maxim needed. He tossed the eggs into the trash can and left the house without even parking a bag. Just his car key and the clothes on his body. He hopped into his G-wagon and drove gently – He didn't overspeed. Nothing to catch their attention – to the airport. He told his pilot to take a one way flight to Russia immediately but that was not possible. The pilot had told him that the fuel wouldn't carry them nonstop, so they had to make a stop in France to refuel, before making the last half of the journey. That sounded fine. He just wanted to be out of New Jersey when the FBI came knockin
JON HAD A very short night. He woke up 3 hours after he closed his eyes, and his eyes remained open. After lying prone for a long time, he turned and glanced at the bedside clock. It was 6 a.m. "I might as well prepare for my flight back to New Jersey," He muttered as he threw the covers back and swung his leg over the edge of the bed. He grunted to his feet and went to the bathroom. He stepped into the cold shower to wake him up for the morning. After washing up, he headed downstairs where the maids were already setting the table. Vincent had told them last night that the big boss was going to leave very early the following morning, so they had to wake early to make sure he is well taken care of.Jon took a seat at the dining table and nodded as his meal was served. "Have one of you get my bags from my room upstairs," He said to a servant boy who nodded and headed up immediately to get the bag. Jon took a bite of his breakfast and then turned to another servant nearby, "Go knock o
JON COULD NOT believe his ears. He stood on the port deck and watched the distance as Chambers approached their closest ship docked in the open sea. "Did you hear what I said, Master Stone?" Vincent asked. Jon nodded and said, "I just need some time to process the information." Vincent nodded and held his hand behind his back. He let Jon mull over the information in silence. After a few minutes, Jon asked, "Are they going in hot?" Vincent nodded, "Frok what he told me, They've got the FBI and Interpol with them. I don't see any way Maxim Ivanov would escape his arrest." "Lucas seems to think they'll screw it up somehow."Vincent gave a sad chuckle. "Your stepbrother has always had a pessimistic outlook. But I want you to see the bright side." Jon nodded, "By tomorrow, everything will be over. Maxim will be behind bars or facing trial snd my fiance will be safe again." Vincent nodded. "Yes. You should be glad."Jon was not sure how he was feeling. He still had a tugging at the b
JON HAD BEEN flying constantly between New York and New Jersey over the last week. More guards had been stationed from Washington D.C. to his house and office. He had a fleet of 8 large vessels now and was finally going to speak with Miguel about the trading routes. He was just finishing a cup of coffee when Oliver popped into his office. "Sir, there's someone here to see you," He said. Jon raised an eyebrow, "Who is it?" Oliver cane in and closed the door gently behind him. He cleared his throat and said, "She said she's from the NBC news station. They want to run a story on you." Jon was surprised. "Me?" He asked. Oliver nodded. "Personally, I don't like the media. I can turn her away if you like. The desk downstairs held her." Jon swiveled on his chair and thought aboht it. Then he shook his head and said, "No. Let her up." Oliver nodded dutifully and walked out. Jon shook his head and smiled wryly. He picked up his telephone and called Lucas's office. He was answered wit
IT WAS ALMOST a week since Jon went to see Mitrovic with the evidence. The past week has moved in a blur and it had been relatively calm. There was no assassination attempt, no faked accident. It was just a week of business, visiting Nicole, staying in constant communications with New York, and handling things in New Jersey.Jon was at the office when Oliver walked in, "I just secured another deal for a large vessel." "Hmm," Jon nodded. "That makes it the seventh.""Yes, sir.""How much did this one go for?" Jon asked. "Uh, 120 million dollars," "Is it worth it?" Jon asked. Oliver nodded. "Yes, yes. For sure." "Okay then," Jon rubbed his palms together. "Have it sailed and docked in New York. I will be headed there by the end of this week. I'll have the workers ready too." Oliver nodded. "We would need a sea line plotter," Jon paused and looked up, "What do you mean?" Oliver cleared his throat, "We'll, sir. They can't just be roaming the free waters like some pirates. They nee