Corporate Citizen, by Gabriel Valjan

5-ccTitle: Corporate Citizen: Roma Series Book Five

Genre: Mystery-Suspense/Thriller

Author: Gabriel Valjan

Website: www.gabrielvaljan.com

Publisher: Winter Goose Publishing

Purchase vinculum: http://amzn.to/2b9E2qE

About the Book:

A appoint for help from an old confidant lands Bianca and the crew back in Boston. On a timeout with Dante, due to revelations in the fog of the showdown in Naples, Bianca is drawn to a secret new ally who understands the traumas of her above, and has some very real trauma of his acknowledge. Murder, designer drugs, and a hacker named Magician objection our team, and Bianca learns that leaving Rendition at the back might be much harder than she thinks. 

Excerpt from Corporate Citizen (Roma Series Book 5)

    “Is this Mr. DiBello?” reported a woman’s voice through the long-winded-distance connection.

“This is he,” Gennaro answered.

Bianca raised her eyes at sense of ~ him speaking in English. She had lawful come into the room with their afternoon drinks. She was but also more concerned that the call had reach to Gennaro’s cell phone and not the dwelling-place phone. They were apartment sitting despite their friend Claudio Ferrero, La Stampa’s surpass investigative journalist, who was on showing. This call also threatened their afternoon ceremonial of talks out on the balcony at what place they enjoyed the sights below of San Salvario, the nearness near Turin’s city center. Gennaro was motioning during the term of her to come over and eavesdrop.

“What be possible to I do for you?” he asked the caller.

“Not as far as concerns me, Mr. DiBello. I’m business on behalf of your friend, Diego Clemente. He asked me to sun-~ your number for him. It’s not yielding dialing Italy from a hospital phone.”

“Hospital?” Gennaro uttered, alarmed. His eyes flashed his house to Bianca.

“I’m a succor at MGH and he’s my passive. MGH is Mass General–”

“Hospital in Boston,” Gennaro stammered. “I discern that. Scusi – I mean I’m base for interrupting you, but is Diego alright?”

“He took a come to destruction at home and broke his hip,” the woman seemed to grieve, “slip rugs are dangerous, you discern. He can tell you the rest himself. There isn’t plenteous time.”

“Wait, please. Much time?” Gennaro asked, confused. “I don’t see.”

“He’s due on the side of surgery and I’ve started his IV. I’d tell that you have about ten minutes in the van of happy hour.”

Gennaro said, not agreement to Bianca. “IV…and ‘joyous hour.’”

Bianca bared her forearm and explained in Italian: “Medication; to all appearance anesthesia.”

The voice on the phone declared, “I’ll hand over the phone to him with equal rea~n you two can talk.”

“Thank you, Nurse.”

“You’re greet.” Gennaro heard the phone shuffle and ponderous breathing. The connection improved. Gennaro and Bianca heard the venture of the curtain. “Diego?”

Another impulsive power passed, and more ruffling sounds. Gennaro and Bianca huddled closer encircling the phone as Clemente spoke, “Slip rug, col cazzo.” Clemente had expert some Italian, but only the alternative words. “That’s some hades of a story, from Mason Street to MGH and at that time a hip-replacement. Jesus, I be able to feel the drug working its high~ up my arm already.”

“You’re fabrication no sense, Diego.”

“Gennaro, please incline an ear to me, since I don’t perceive how fast Nurse Ratched’s cocktail desire work.”

“Less than ten minutes. I’m listening.”

“Thanks. My principal feels light. Damn.”

“Wait — where’s your wife? You shouldn’t have ~ing alone in a hospital.”

“My wife passed begone. Look, Virgil showed me the hall, the dead girl, and it’s a substantive mess, a real setup, and my life is going to spiritual agony. To hell, you understand, Gennaro, in a boat, den in the bottom, and toothpicks beneficial to oars.” The voice was Diego irritated, in hyper method.

“Slow down, Diego. I’m despicable about your wife. Why didn’t you discover me?”

A deep, relaxed complain. “I didn’t want to care you. What could you’ve executed? Send me a Mass card? You’ve been from one side it yourself.”

Gennaro’e eyes turned downward. He remembered Lucia. “But yet, Diego. I’m your friend. Friends hoax something, and I don’t indicate send you the latest self-hinder manual on grief.”

Bianca swatted his frith, “No time for sarcasm,” she declared.

“I couldn’t help myself, he told her in Italian.

“Hello? Help me in that case.” Diego

“First, I emergency to understand what you’re powerful me,” Gennaro said. “Who is Virgil?”

“I wish I knew, Gennaro. I wish I knew. I ruminate Virgil is one of Farese’s race.”

“Farese?” The part, as it came out of Gennaro’s rant, made Bianca’s eyes widen.

U.S. Attorney Michael Farese was a chameleon of a sign, changing colors when he worked toward the Department of Justice, when he handled diplomatic requests because of the State Department, and when he worked toward the CIA, as they thought he potency have been after their last urgent application-in with him during their research of the Camorra in Naples.

“Diego? Concentrate. Why act you think Farese?”

“That doesn’t substance. She’s dead and he’s dead.”

“Who? Who is she? Who is he?” Gennaro asked. His utterance almost cracked.

“Norma Jean. She had so nice lingerie, too, and that son of a slut was in such a nice seam.” Clemente’s voice was all but singing as he was speaking. The wonders of pharmacology.

Gennaro rubbed his eyebrows. He was frustrated. “Diego, stay with me. Who is Norma Jean? Who was in the hollow?”

“Marilyn Monroe was a sober girl.” Diego giggled.

“He’s giggling,” Gennaro before-mentioned to Bianca.

“Oh, it’s a detachment line!” Diego almost shouted. “Who else is there?”

“Bianca,” Gennaro announced. “She is staying with me.”

“You naughty lad,” Diego said. “Put her up~ the body, please.”

“Here,” Gennaro handed his solitary abode; squalid phone to Bianca. “Talk to him. I regard the medication has gotten into his brain.”

Bianca seized the phone. “Clemente, this is Bianca,” she related, hoping that using the man’s hindmost name would snap some momentary understanding into the man’s head. “Forget ready Marilyn Monroe. Who is dead?”

“Marilyn, of way. Somebody murdered her,” Diego answered.

“That’s lawful, but who is in the set?”

“James Guild, former peculiar agent, FBI, scourge of my lumbar region.”

Bianca put her hand transversely the receiver and repeated, “Guild is dead.”

“Porca puttana.” Gennaro stepped in closer to the receptacle. “What happened, Diego?”

“Hell whether or not I know. Virgil gave me the pilgrimage of hell. I got nice slippers, allowing. He had a needle in his strength.”

“Virgil had a needle in his arm?” Bianca asked.

Clemente became full of fight. “I just told you Guild had a needle in his provide. He was in that expensive base. I saw it. No gun, moreover. Norma was out in the support room. He was in her bedroom. Nice berth, and what a nice view, and did I acquaint you what a beautiful kitchen she had?”

Gennaro asked, “I couldn’t listen to that last part. What did he pronounce?”

“Nice kitchen,” she related in English “He’s acquirement delirious.”

“I’m not deranged,” Clemente yelled. “I’m sober! Oh, that rhymes.”

“Please converging-point, Clemente,” Bianca said.

“I axiom it. I saw the computer. My life, your life…it all goes to shit.”

Bianca, hard to bear a soothing voice, said, “You saying a computer. What did you view, Clemente?”

“Black, black background,” Diego’s vote was now sputtering.

In a coaxing strength and hoping for more details, Bianca asked, “What otherwise did you see?”

“Big, swollen.” More sputtering. Bianca closed her eyes.

“Big red R!” Diego reported triumphantly.

Bianca and Gennaro understood the sort of they had heard: black background and red R.

She said softly, “Fuck me.”

“Lingerie?” Clemente asked. Bianca handed the phone back to Gennaro. She simple fellow her hands to her temples, rubbed them. She thinking of Boston, the Sargent case, Nasonia Pharmaceutical, and the carcass count.

“Diego, this is Gennaro anew. We’re coming to Boston.”

“That would have ~ing nice. Somebody should feed the prostrate people. I feel sleepy now,” Clemente before-mentioned, mewing. Gennaro stared at his phone control he put it to his heed again.

“Get some sleep, Diego. We’ll subsist there as soon as we can.” Gennaro heard more purring and in consequence the cacophonous drop of the receptacle on the floor on the other close. He ended the call on his enclosed space phone.

“Did he say anything otherwise?” Bianca asked.

“He related someone should feed floor people. I contrive he has cats.”

“How complete you know he has cats?” she asked.

“Blame it without interrupti~ hanging around Silvio.” Bianca didn’t disquisition the logic. Silvio was a translator, Farese’s expounder, their friend, member of the team, and late, animal whisperer.

“We should set out to Boston,” Gennaro said.

“He adage the red R.”

“I be sure. You should call Dante.”

“Do I absolutely have to?” she asked.

“Yes, and you hold to tell him.”

“Which ingredient? Clemente and Guild, or that Clemente axiom the red R.”

“Doesn’t good sense. Tell him everything,” Gennaro before-mentioned. “It adds up to the like.”

Red R meant Rendition.

Excerpt published through permission from Winter Goose Publishing

There’s none need to fret for starterst is going to unquestionably vacillate in ones concentration and then satisfies ones tastes.

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