Ded Reckoning by William F Lee Read Free Book Online

her sheer screamingly bright red outer beach garment, and spins around displaying her tanned body that's barely tucked in to her scant white bikini.  She says, "See, my tan makes me look more Italian than Sicilian.  And it is all for you, my love."
    Anna is Sicilian.  Puglisi an old established name.  She is younger by ten years than Roberto Catalano, who is forty-three, and she is holding her figure, tone and complexion as good as any twenty-year old.  Dark brown hair and eyes, shapely petite body and however diminutive, generous in portions. And her summer-cloud white teeth are still more so within her bright maraschino red lips.  She neither wears nor needs much make-up other than the lipstick and matching polish.  She sits down next to Pisces on the lounge chair, leans over, and smothers him with a kiss, leaning into him hence he receives the full pressure of her giving breasts.  When she releases him, she says, "Oh, Roberto, I love you so. I do.  And I have missed you.  Like a canvas misses the brushes of the painter.  The strokes.  The artistry."  She smiles, grazes her index finger across his lips and says, "I will have Gina serve us supper here on the veranda," engagingly smiles again, "And then we will make love.  Here or where we choose."
    She turns abruptly, says, "Bruno, put those packages in my room.  You are done for the day."  
    Pisces says, in English, "Bruno, do as the Signora says, but then come to my study.  I have something I want to discuss with you."
    "Yessa, sir."  Bruno leaves.  Anna departs as well, strutting several paces behind Bruno as if a dog at his heel, into the living room that adjoins the veranda.  Gina, eavesdropping from the kitchen doorway, smiles.
    Pisces takes a slow sip of his wine and watches the two go.  Stares after them for several moments.  Glances at Gina just as she ducks from view.  He returns his glass to the side table, stands for a moment, then strolls toward his office, hands in pockets.  Looks off to the far end to the veranda gate  that leads to the garage below. Sees Rocco, his other bodyguard and confidant.  Pisces motions him to come.
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    "It's all under control.  We've got it covered.  Be on track by Thursday, the latest.  And he'll be in here to get an update briefing, the latest intel." Joe Zachary listens for a few more moments to John MacBeer, his boss.  Hunter's boss.  And the Deputy Director of Operations.  MacBeer also served with Hunter's father, Patrick "Corker" Kerrigan, in London.  Herman Mueller, Aries by code, also worked for MacBeer.  And interestingly enough, so did Robert "Bobby" Camack at one time before Corker uncovered Camack, now Pisces, as a double agent.
    Finally, Joe Zachary says, "Yes, sir."  And hangs up the phone in his office.  It's been a long day.  One of many.  It's the nature of the business, or the game, depending on one's perspective.  And John MacBeer demands that no one leave the office, or the board game, before he does.  Joe sighs.  He knows the nature of the business, the game, all too well.  Plus he knows the nature of the board master, MacBeer.
    Joe's mind wanders. He knows Hunter from the Corps.  Hell, early on Hunter reported to him.  Now again. They're both still Marines.  There are no ex-Marines.  No matter the era, on duty or not; in uniform or not; once a Marine...always a... He mutters, "Everyone knows that."  His thoughts and muttering reminds him of what an Army General once said: "There are only two kinds of people who understand Marines:  Marines and the enemy.  Everyone else has a second-hand opinion."
    Joe locks up his desk, slings his suit coat over his shoulder, and heads out his office door mumbling, "Oh man, this is goin' to get ugly."
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    In Derry, the Shanahan brothers return home from their task.  This one a deadly one.  A loyalist, causing