The Somali Deception Episode IV (A Cameron Kincaid Serial) by Daniel Arthur Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

behind the stomach, right below the
diaphragm.   The blow was intended to
cause great pain, knock the wind out of the Black Tees, and most important, the
simultaneous action was designed to shove the Tees into each other.   The modification was that Annalisa was
between them.   The move worked.   For a split second, the Black Tees
attention was drawn away from their opponents to the overwhelming pain in their
gut, and to Annalisa between them.   In that opportune slice of time, when the Tees turned toward her,
Cameron and Pepe squeezed each by the back of the head, seized them by the
crotch, and then wielded the Tees airborne over the side of the catwalk.
    In that sudden instant, as the
two Black Tees arced high above the crowd, the thunderous backbeat that had
shaken the building in a constant quake, abruptly stopped.   Silence, an unworldly hush descended
over the crowd, and then, echoing through the cavernous building in a soft
repetitive whisper, “All for you, all for you, all for you, --.”
    Cameron peered out into the
hall, into the writhing mass gone calm, and then he looked up at DJ MooreHouse.   DJ MooreHouse, way too cool in his
sunglasses and heavy headphones, was smiling widely at Cameron.   The DJ nodded his head, extended his
arm, and then pointed his index finger straight to Cameron.   “All for you, all for you, all for you,
--.”   Cameron smiled up to the DJ
and shot his finger back, and then DJ MooreHouse, in a dramatic motion, swung
his arm up and around to jab down on the soundboard.   The maelstrom of sound returned tenfold
and the crowd of faithful thousands rallied.   DJ MooreHouse nodded at Cameron again,
and Cameron returned the gesture.
     
    * * *
* *

 
     

Chapter 67
    Stratosphere, Ibiza
     
     
    The two muscle bound Black Tees
waiting at the valet stand were no surprise to Cameron.   The calm of the fresh evening air, or maybe
the reality shift stepping out of the club, had subdued him.   Cameron felt no need to launch into
another confrontation.
    Cameron smiled, sucked in a
breath, and then said, “Gentlemen, the Aston Martin Rapide please.”
    The two men appeared
uneasy.   Their focus slipped past
Cameron to Annalisa.   “Miss
Droukos,” one of them said, “we have strict instructions from Mister Stratos
that the gentlemen that came with you are to remain here until he returns.”
    Stepping forward Annalisa
sighed, “I am sure you do.   However
we are ready to go, so.”   She
shrugged her brows and reached for the velvet rope.
    The second Black Tee found some
confidence and moved to block Annalisa.   “I’m sorry Miss Droukos.   Mister Stratos was very --.”   He paused searching for a word.
    “Explicit?” offered Annalisa.
    “Yes explicit.”   He scowled then said,   “You need to go back in the club now.”
    Pepe put himself between the
Black Tee and Annalisa to undo the velvet rope himself.   His voice was stern, “I don’t think that
is going to happen.”
    The brave Black Tee threw his
hand flat up against Pepe’s chest and said, “I believe that’s exactly what is
going to happen.”
    Pepe slowly tilted his head up
from the rope to meet the bouncer eye to eye with a look that let the Black Tee
know he had made a mistake.
    Annalisa scrunched her
nose.   Cameron winced an eye near
closed.   The image of a jet about to
collide with a train and knowing that nothing could stop what was about to
happen.
    The velvet rope was no longer an
issue as the bold Black Tee tore the hardware away when Pepe threw him into the
driveway.   The other bodyguard
responded out of a sense of loyalty to his friend and duty to his job, yet only
half heartedly, as he did not actually strike a punch at Cameron.   He raised his fist into a boxing stance
a safe distance away so he would still appear in play.   The tossed down Black Tee began to
stand.   Pepe had taken two strides
toward him when, from inside the nightclub, two more Black Tee security