I

Following quietly bro. Blood in the ring and Money ain’t loyal, I don't know which one is more fast paced and thrilling. I salute you guys

Silvio Perfetti handed his passport to the blue-uniformed official at the Fedl De Bachigu alato airport. The man glanced at the passport then at perfetti, nodded, stamped the passport, returned it with a brief 'gracias.'
Collecting his passport he when over to the index board; his flight was leaving the gate 9. He glanced at his watch he still had twenty-seven minutes before take-off.
...
Trudgingly the plane finally came to stop at gate 10. Everybody rushing to get out of the plane but Marley sat still, the enthusiasm was all gone; this was a country known for drug trafficking, high murder rate. Feeling jaded, Marley, passed through the gate, security check and made his way across the airport terminal to the airport lounge.
'With a little quiet and calm, I will figure everything out'. He told himself
For a moment he felt his go mouth dry, he stood fixed at the entrance to the lounge, coming straight at him was Silvio Perfetti, a man who he didn't fail to identify; he looked more grown and dangerous to the picture he had in his suitcase.
They bumped each other.
'Sorry.' Marley muttered.
Perfetti didn't seem to mind, he walked hastily.
Seeing where he was going, Marley who stood dumb as a post followed him. Then as he was starting to follow up, there was an announcement over the tannoy.
This is the final boarding call for passenger Perfetti booked on flight 372A to the City of Casablanca. Please proceed to gate 9 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately five minutes time. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Perfetti.
' gracias.'
Marely flinched. Half of him felt happy that he may not have to face this man. Half of him sad to see $500,000 walkthrough gate 9.
...
Estabalíz sat idly on her couch, her phone buzzed, crossing over to the table she picked it up.
'Hello?' She said.
'Is that you Miss Estabalíz?'
'Yes. Who is this on the line?'
'It Rue Nabil. The money will be made available at 14.00 hrs. A red Renault will be parked outside the house at 47. rue jbel Tazeka - Agdal street Rabat, there will be a suitcase at the back seat of the car containing the money, the key to the car will be on the driver's seat. Consider the car a gift from all of us at Attijariwafa bank.' He said sarcastically before ending the call.
Abdul Aziz sat inside a bar of eye range to where the red Renault was parked, to his side was the suitcase which contained the money. he had swapped it and left another suitcase at the backseat of the car without the knowledge of Nabil. If everything goes as he planned he would retire from the police force, move his family to Paris and his son will continue his education in the USA.
Estabalíz arrived at the scene at 14.12 hrs. She had stopped at the train station and decided to walk to the street, she glanced around every second trying to see if she was been watched or followed, on reaching where the car was parked she walked passed it going over to a restaurant forty meters from the car. Upon entering the restaurant she took a seat at the extreme left-end facing the door where she could see the car. She felt satisfied after waiting for 15 mins. She walked down the car surveyed the area she could she the suitcase lying on the backseat and a key on the driver's seat, feeling satisfied she opened the car door.
...there was an explosion, a blinding flash came from where the car was. The noise had reverberated through the quiet street as effective as the voice of God.
Picking up the suitcase Aziz left the bar.
 
The End

I arrived in Berlin at 2 AM, feeling slightly exhausted I passed through the customs security at the Berlin airport and made my way across the big hall to the bookstall to buy the city guide book, after going through it to find a hotel I will lodge in, I crossed over to the Europcar Berlin Tegel Flughafen car rental service.
Noticing the pretty blonde, he smiled.
'I will need a Mercedes-Benz CLS 45.' After depositing half of his retainer fee in his account in Morocco, he could afford to be free with money.
'Yes, sir,' the girl said. 'How long will you need it, do you think?'
‘I don't know.' Marely found the girl attractive. 'It depends if you will let me take you on a date in it. I might need it for the rest of my life.'
The girl giggled and blushed.
'Shall we say... a week?'
Having booked my flight to Culiacan, Sinaloa Mexico for the next day.
'Let say 48hrs, I will be heading to Mexico tomorrow.' Marley leaned on the counter while she completed the form, then he signed it.
Having changed some of his money to euros he paid for the car rental and tipped her so largely that brought a genuine and sincere smile on her face.
'I'll get the car for you, sir.' She used the telephone and then hung up. 'In five minutes, sir.' She looked adoringly at him as she smiled. 'The exit door is to your right.'
'Thank you. I will be staying at the Mercure Berlin city west hotel.
We exchanged glances, then feeling considerably revitalized, I left the airport and stood to wait in the brilliant sunshine for the car to arrive.
In a moment a black Mercedes pulled up beside him. The white-coated driver got out and saluted Marely.
Marely tossed his suitcase onto the backseat. He tipped the man.
He got under the driving wheel and set the car in motion.
As as he headed the car fast along the highway towards Berlin city west, he confirmed to himself the shade of a dollar is the perfect shade.
With the help of the city map, he was able to find his way to the hotel.
Marely approached the reception desk, setting down his suitcase.
'Mr. Marely checking in,' he said, to the male clerk.
Satisfied, Marely completed the usual form, went up to his room, unpacked his bag and changed into a sweatshirt and hipsters, lying on the bed, he wasted no time to fall asleep.
...
A little after 10.00 hrs on this brilliant morning in Berlin, Marely came awake. He came awake by slow degrees, groaning a little, stretching and yawning, then remembering he had a flight to catch at 12.15 hrs. he heaved himself reluctantly from under the sheet and walked with eyes half shut into the shower-room. Still only half-awake, turned on the shower, moaning softly to himself and feeling like a resurrected corpse.
He had had an exhausting evening with the airport girl. He had been glad to see her go, and thankful she hadn't insisted on spending the rest of the night with him.
It was only after feeling the chills of the cold water on his body that he became fully awake. He found he was hungry but since it was now 11.00 hrs. he decided to go to a restaurant at the airport.

Don El Carlos was not a figure you would describe as the boss of the world's most organized drug cartel. He was a man who gained his position by pure nepotism. He took over the position after the death of his father.
Before he was Perfetti holding a Colt M1911A1 gun to his face.
El Carlos stood unmoved. 'Waving a gun at me doesn't scare.' El Carlos said feeling so betrayed.
'Being sacred has no effect on the gun.' Perfetti said. His face white and drawn, his eyes vicious. 'This is business, don't take it personally.'
'If you must do this, "orale". I am getting sick of looking at you "Pendejo".'
In that flash of a second, he pulled the trigger.
...
It was when Estabalíz returned home from Trianon bar that she briefed Marely what his job will be.
Taking a picture of her husband from a briefcase she handed it to Marely.
Taking the picture from her, Marely stared at the face-cropped picture of a man who looked tough, with his eyes positioned as if he was staring directly at him. He needed no soothsayer to tell him the man in the picture was a deadly poison.
'Your job is easy to locate him, eliminate him and return back to Morocco.' She said.
'Easy? Perhaps you should be the one to go to Mexico, while I sit here and await your return because this man in this picture looks deadlier than a python.'
Estabalíz shrugged impatiently. Having seen her undressed has made him lose much respect for her.
'Are you ready to travel immediately?'
'Of course. I am always prepared to earn a living.'
Estabalíz opened the briefcase again and took from it a bulky envelope. 'Here is your ticket to Munich, Germany from there you head to Sinaloa, Mexico, a $10,000 retainers fee is also there. You are to get rid of my husband. Silvio Perfetti also called Birdman. You already have his photograph. This is important, Marely. You will receive your balance when I know he has been eliminated.'
Marely got up, crossed over to the desk and took the envelope Estabalíz was offering him. He returned to his chair, sat down and checked the contents of the envelope. Satisfied everything was intact.
'I'd better get off if I'm to catch the 18.00 hr. plane.'
'Another thing Marley, don't try to be too clever 'cause I will find you. Be careful of Perfetti, he is dangerous, Estabalíz warned.
'I'll watch it,' I said and left.

A glittering black Rolls-Royce ghost pulled up outside the Crips bar Rabat. At the driver seat was Rue Nabil, he was busy with his thoughts. $290,000,000 was not money you collect and you go to bed. He was here to see Abdul Aziz, the chief inspector officer Rabat police unit, a former college classmate of his, whom he feared during his college school days, but now he felt thankful for the power of money.
Coming out of the bar was Abdul Aziz, was an Eagle-like man, whose eyes were sharp and searching for opportunities where he could pick up a few bucks and today was one of those few days when he would get an opportunity. He was a giant of a man, His flat, cold eyes were windows revealing a cold and ferocious ruthlessness that made most people flinch from him. He was considered the most effective and most dangerous police agent in Morocco.
Opening the passenger-side off door to the Rolls he sat beside Rue Nabil. Both men regarded each other for some seconds then Aziz spoke up. 'Are we here to stare at each other'. 'If we have don't think you have grown more beautiful over the years.' He said sarcastically. 'Get down to business I don't have all the time in the world.' He said with a note of impatience.
'I would like you to keep an eye on Estíbaliz Rodríguez, former manager of Attijariwafa bank Rabat branch, I want a report on who or where she visits, I want her phone tracked, I want every detail I can get.'
If you need someone to sit around you should go to a private investigator. Aziz said as he made an attempt to open the door.
Wait. Nabil hesitated for a few minutes trying to discern if he could trust Aziz. Finally resolving within himself, he could.
'I want you to get rid of her.' He said. 'The price is right $500,000.'
'Why come to a policeman? Why not go to a thug?' Aziz asked in a thoughtful manner. He has done odd jobs for Nabil in the past but none involved this kind of money neither did anybody have to be assassinated. Estabalíz must pose a serious threat for Nabil to go this far, taking the risk of soiling his hands with blood. It interested him to know why.
'I want a neat job nothing should be traced back to me, I can afford to soil my name in the mud, that is why I have come to you.'
'Tell me the whole story, there might be another way to resolve this.' Aziz said.
'There is nothing to tell. You stick to your own side of the bargain, and I stick to mine.' Nabil said with a note of authority.
'I never said it was a bargain. When you talk then we will have a deal. Remember nothing is hidden under the sun forever.' Aziz said with a mischievous smile.
Remember nothing is hidden under the sun forever these were not words of encouragement to a man who plans to...
Quickly, he came to a decision.
'I will tell you,' he said. Briefly, he told Aziz about the money been laundered, his agreement with Estabalíz and his need to silence this woman.
Aziz sat motionless his eyebrows raised while he listened.
'So much money that I am tempted to ask for a million bucks.' Aziz paused. 'Anyway, I won't, he continued, you don't have to eliminate her, you had an agreement with her for ten million dollars, prepare the money untraceable to you. I have a better plan.'

Sitting in his small stuffy room, Marely took another drag from the cigarette and exhaled into the air, watching as the rich oaky smell of the fire permeated the room, wisps of silver-grey smoke curled and danced their way through the thick, hazy air as if excited to escape. The smoky smell lingered on the fabric of the chairs, on the curtains, and on the carpets; it hung on the air ready to greet whoever opened the front door. His mind clouded with the events of this morning; $500,000 is the largest sum I might ever earn in my lifetime. How to earn it remains the most striking question in my mind. But I wasn't going to jump into anything without seeing where I will land, At least that was what I thought. Silently he prayed that he will be up to the task.
...
Sitting in her car Estabalíz felt elated that the meeting with the president of Attijariwafa bank went agreeably. She glanced at her watch. It was 11.25 hrs. She decided to visit the Trianon bar to ease herself off the tension.
She found Trianon bar at Medina avenue: a typical, dimly lit bar like so many bars around Medina. She drove in and pulled up at the car park, she got out of the car, went straight to the bar entrance. She pushed open the door and walked into a long narrow room, the bar to the right with the standard stools, to the left were banquettes and tables. At this hour the place was empty except for the barman who was browsing over his record book, Biro in one hand, his other hand above his head, a look of concentration on his pretty face.
As soon as the barman noticed Estabalíz he pushed the record book aside, with a polite grin he greeted her.
'Yes, Ma?' He said. 'What should I offer you?'
Estabalíz helped herself to a table.
'A bottle of Heineken.'
'Yes, ma... A nice choice for a beautiful morning.'
Estabalíz smiled as she remembered her experience with him, but now they both acted as they have never been intimate.
The barman brought the drink with a glass cup and placed it at her table. 'First sales today'.
Abandoning the glass cup she drank half the content straight from the bottle. Her mind clouded with the past and the prospect of the future. $290,000,000 has just gone under the water. This was money she laundered for her husband, this was going to create a big chasm in their relationship, precisely business relationship, gaining fifteen percent of each dollar she laundered, with the little time she spent in the United States she knew there was no way out of this, you either pay them with cash or you pay with your life.
The door swung open and two Moroccan couples came into the bar, breaking Estabalíz for her thoughts as they climbed onto the stools at the bar.
Finishing the remaining of her drink she dropped a 50 dirham bill on the table. She walked out onto the carpark to her car. She headed back home.

Martinez stiffened. He sat motionless, his brain racing. This only meant one thing. 'The end of the don is near.'
He has been with Perfetti so long to know that when he speaks like this he was dead serious.
My pops always say 'it's your future don't let people dictate to you how it should be.' Perfetti went on, looking Martinez searchingly in the eye.
'But Don El Carlos is not dying any time soon.' Martinez said in a way that can't be perceived as a question or a statement.
'Why retire at this point when you are so close to being the boss of the biggest cartel in the world.' Martinez asked in a thoughtful manner as if trying to come up with the answer.
'It, not just the federales that we fear; it's also one another. The brutal opportunism of drug business means that no partnership is permanent, no friendship lasts forever. He paused then went on, I wish to return to normalcy, eating with friends and not be afraid they will turn on you.'
'It's life, you close your eyes for a second and you wake up in hell. But for this shit, I am not ready to give it up. I' ma die in this bitch 'cabron'. Martinez said. 'I have always known you to be the Steve Jobs of this business cause you always perceive the future. If I never am in the position to repay you in this life, I will surely pay you back in the next life.'
'Alfredo, it's your turn nigga, be prepared to be the new don.'

Silvio Perfetti sitting in the VIP section of Classico Mazatlán, the biggest club in Sinaloa regarded the stripper stripping before him trying to get his attention with aversion, immoral women were the cause of most men downfall, one of his pops many advice- a middle-class tailor in Italy. At the thought of his father, he smiled, a smile that had bitter expression behind it. After the death of his mother who died of a stroke, in the space of three months, his father went the same path out of depression. 'Love.' He muttered to himself, At that time he was still studying in the United States of America, leaving him an orphan with little inheritance as he was the only child. As a teenager, with no anchor he naturally drifted to the bad, that was when he started dealing dope. It was during this time that he met Estabalíz at Numbers night club. She was wild and wholly, also a student of the University of Houston Texas. They were both high on drugs so hitting it off with her was effortless on his part, after that event, they hooked up a couple of times. It was after she became bank manager of Attijariwafa bank that he saw his opportunity, got married to her, though a secret wedding, without the knowledge of his partners in Mexico. Ever since she has been his wife and banker who helps him launder money stolen from the cartel.
Silvio perffeti was a splendid looking athlete with black hair cut short. His square-shaped face, with its high cheekbones, its powerful, aggressive jaw, its short blunt nose. His flat, green eyes were windows revealing a cold and ferocious ruthlessness that made most people flinch from him. At thirty-five years which in narco-years was seventy, he looked five years younger. There was something different about him as soda is different from water.
He was the right-hand man of Don El Carlos boss of the Sinaloa cartel, turning away from the stripper who has left him to dance for another 'Cabron', to his right was his compadre Alfredo Martinez the number three man in the Sinaloa cartel, a guy who he has come to like for the sake of likeness.
Martinez was tall and bony. He was a native of Sinaloa, a privileged kid but dropped out of school in sixth grade to live the high life, he automatically started dealing drugs for the cartel and his rise through the cartel has been steady and continuous. Nearly twenty-five years of age, deep eyes and a thin smallmouth, he was known to be a psychopathic killer and an expert pistol shot.
'Trabajar un chinook, you work too much, relax, see you just lost that chica.' Martinez said patting him on the back. Though he was his senior in rank that was how they related.
Emptying his drink into his cup he kept the bottle noisily on the table. Taking out a stick of cigar for his cigar-case, he lit it up, watching the smoke disappear into the air, he took a deep drag. The warm feeling of the rough paper between his knuckles, the taste on his lips the feeling of the smoke in his lungs and going out through his lips and nostrils as he exhaled. it was warm, comforting, pleasant, calming. Peace and serenity were what he craved for now after a long time defying the implicit bargain of life in the drug trade: where careers are glittering but brief and always end in prison or six feet under. He thought it was time to retire, with three hundred million stashed in Morocco the future was secure.
'If Don El Carlos by any means dies, I am retiring from the game, leaving you to be the next don.' Perfetti said in a voice close to a whisper.

A little after 10 o'clock, sitting directly opposite the president of Attijariwafa Bank was Estabalíz Rodríguez. Rue Nabil was a short fat man, a tremendous bald dome of a head, piercing eyes wearing rimless spectacles and a pointed nose. He was richly dressed in a black Armani suit and Italian loafers. He smelt money. A man who liked to be in control of every situation. The tension in the room was evident, with each person waiting for the other to speak first.
 
'Miss Estabalíz, you should be in jail presently other than sitting in my office staring at my face.' He said with the show of much anger.
She grinned at him.
'We are all thieves in this world, with the bigger thieves crucifying the smaller one.' Estabalíz said softly, 'and there is no gain in me going to jail.'
'One thousand accounts with no owners.' he paused then went on, 'how long have you been on this?'
'It doesn't matter now.' She paused, then went on, 'all I want is ten percent and we go our separate ways.'
'You wouldn't get a penny from me.' He hesitated for some seconds, 'all I am willing to offer you is your freedom and it's the best gift a man can get.'
'What is freedom without money? This is three hundred million dollars we are here for, don't let your emotions get in the way of business.' She said with a visible show of disgust.
Standing up from his seat he moved over to the windows and stared out into the street, in deep thought trying to choose between two evil which is the lesser evil.
'Ten million dollars, and that final and if you don't like that, I would remember to visit you in jail.' He said over his shoulders with a tone of finality.
'It okay by me.' Estabalíz said. relaxing back in her seat.
He came away from the window, adjusting his glasses he smiled like one who has just won a lottery. Two hundred and ninety million bucks was real cash but care need to be taken to avoid backlash. He thought
'I didn't think you would be this easy.' He said still smiling.
Estabalíz was only half-listening now. Her mind worked swiftly. This was drug money, to most people hot money and whoever touches it get burnt. Her husband has been stealing from the cartel and she has been helping to launder the money.
Interrupting her thought, Nabil said. 'The money will be paid to you in cash, I do not want anything traced back to me.' He paused then went on, 'how to settle with your business affiliates is a business of yours. We are done here you can take your leave. The money will be made ready in four days' time.'

michael123pelemo:
Goin well so far, don't hesitate to update

Thanks man, my first shot at creative writing