Mystery Thriller | The Feeder | Deception

Updated: Apr 4

Chapter 7.


The first rays of the morning sun started to warm the dry fields around the small village in Boa Vista. The small Cape Verde island was covered with sand and the temperature in summertime could be brutal to the farmers that tried to harvest the land. The drinking water arrived every second month and the people of the island had to adjust to the new water supply accordingly. That meant being sick for days. But the islanders were strong people and never gave up the endless battle of surviving on the unforgiving island.

Lela Martin was laughing and leaned back into the strong wind. Her arms working constantly to adjust the center point of her body's balance on the surf board. The black wetsuit clung to her body like wet snakeskin. The waves were rising rapidly in size and she kept a close eye on the horizon and her green eyes scanned the crystal blue sea for the subtle changes in the formation of the powerful waves that were crashing down above her.

Lela Martin was surfing the sharp reef breaks in Santa Monica on the south west side of Boa Vista. She had spent months learning the constant changes in the sea as the northern winds met the low swells of the local winds and then formed powerful waves that had continued to grow in size every week. It was a dangerous place to surf because of the constant danger from the big rocks, hidden just below the surface. She had spent hours mapping out the area and by now she knew this surf spot is better than the locals.

When she cuts the last tube and the sunlight reflected the custom made surfboard, she became one with the board and then propelled into the air. She shouted out in triumph and felt more alive then ever. Then she landed smoothly on a smaller wave and rode it towards the calmer waters. After packing up her gear in the Hummer F1, she got undressed and rinsed her body with fresh water. She let the water run through her jet black hair and down past her shoulders. The drops of water caressed the shapely rounded breasts that had turned golden brown after being exposed to the tropical sun constantly, during the last months. The water continued down past her abdomen, kissed the small belly button and met the final destination in the black organic bush that covered her perfect genitals. She stretched out naked in the morning sun, which had increased rapidly in strength the last hour. Her lips were full and the even teeth were very white in her sensual mouth. She lit a Marlboro and inhaled the coarse tobacco deeply. The sky was endlessly blue. Her eyes were big and the lashes very long. Her body was all dangerous curves. She had narrow shoulders that carried the long neck with pride. The face was angular with high cheekbones and her skin smooth and delicate. Her buttocks were full and bounced in the rhythm that had made the hearts of men and women beat faster since the dawn of time. She slipped on the red high heels from Prada. The beige linen business suit fit her tall frame and she wore the white hat with natural feminine grace. A blue scarf rested around her neck. She looked like she was twenty five years old but in reality she was thirty six. She jumped into the jeep and turned on her iPhone. She had a meeting in one hour. She picked up the golden Aviator glasses that rested on the dashboard and kicked in the gas. The massive 37-inch tires came to life and dug into the sand and the massive engine roared.

At eleven sharp Lela entered The Ibero Club. She ordered a glass of pure vodka and smoked a cigarette while she relaxed and took in the beautiful Praia De Chaves.

Finally the man arrived. Marco Desner was her personal itinerary and kept tabs on her complex business. G10 was her security firm and it had grown size the last years. She had recruited former military personnel that she knew from her earlier tours when she was younger. She also had a stake in a newly discovered gold mine in Sonbhadra. Lela zipped her vodka as she listened to Desner. This brings me to our problem! Desner looked more sad than usual. Some people mistook this look as weakness but Lela had handpicked Desner and knew that it was just part of his manner. He was a petite man with droopy eyes and his scalp was bald. What problem? Her eyes squinted as she concentrated on his intel. Your father is in trouble. He went to Amsterdam three days ago. On a business trip? she asked. No, he decided to party it seems. Dresner looked sadly down at his Mac. What happened? She relaxed slightly. Her father was a character and he usually got into trouble after one drink, or too many. It seems he is being targeted. What? Yes by a group that has kidnapped other prominent people lately. She leaned forward. Where is he now? He is in the hotel Okurra in Amsterdam. Your cellphone was turned off so he called me. I see! She lit another cigarette. I will travel to him and arrive within 15 hours, she said calmly. I have to make some effective arrangements and then contact him and tell him what to do. Brief Leif about this shit, will you? Desner cocked his head and concurred silently. One hour later she was in route, in the company jet. She slept for six hours straight. Then she called John Martin. Her father sounded tired but ok. He briefed her fast about the crazy events in his life during the last days.

Should I take the chopper? he asked. No, now you listen to me, she said. I am all ears, he answered. She could hear the sound of ice cubes falling into a glass. Are you drunk? Slightly, he muttered. She smiled. He was probably drunk as a skunk. The old man never changed. They will be watching the hotel so we need to disguise you and get you out of there under their noses. Someone will soon knock on your door. in two hours. It is a friend of mine. Do as he says, I will call back later. Get some sleep. She hung up. John ordered breakfast and a bottle of good Chablis. He ate sparingly and then read the latest news online. He was not surprised when reading about the virus that had spread from China. It was killing people by the thousands. So it has begun. May God help us all - he toasted to his empty hotel room.

Two hours later there was a knock on the door. John opened. A tall Chinese man entered the hotel room with long strides. He looked like a typical Asian tourist. He opened a bag and took out black hair dye. Soon John's hair was dyed black and his long beard was transformed into dark brown. Then the Asian told him to put on a pair of big nerdy glasses, a set of cheap clothes, plus a pair of white sneakers. The disguise was then completed with a big yellow funny pack hiked up too, high around John's waist. The Asian scrutinized him for a while. Then he smiled the way only Asians can. Not bad. John now looked like a regular, nerdy tourist. In his left hand he was holding an iPad. The red backpack looked heavy and it was. The clothes he wore were cheap and ugly. The Asian had stuffed all his real clothes and stash into the red backpack. Pick it up. John did what he was told. Follow me, said the Asian. They took the stairs down. I guess I am not taking the Ferrari? John smiled. The Asian looked at him. Are you drunk sir? Yes I am, John laughed.. The Asian got serious. When we enter the hotel lobby, I will take out a big map and we will blend in with a tourist group. Your daughter said you speak fluid German right? Yes I do, said John. Ok good! Just follow my lead. In three minutes the German tourist group will leave the hotel. They will be picked up by a tour bus. You will infiltrate this group and get on that bus. You understand? Crystal! Answered Martin. Ok. Outside the hotel I noticed a couple watching the lobby. Try to stay out of their site! The Asian took out a big map when they entered the lobby. Fifty Germans were huddled together and took up most of the lobby space. They were loud and were already in party mode although it was still early in the morning. They walked over to the German group and engaged them in a chat about where to get the best lap dance in Amsterdam. Soon the Germans offered them chaps. Then the buss arrived outside. The Chinese man turned and went back to Martin's hotel room to tidy up and take care of the practicalities. John followed the group on to the bus. He looked the hotel through the corner of his left eye. A couple was sitting outside the bar with a drink and smoking. It was the same couple he had met in the restaurant just days before. They were watching in the bus with little or no interest. The fucking bastards. The Germans on the bus started singing and Martin joined in. Then the bus sped up and entered the traffic. The band Rammstein was being played over the loudspeaker in the bus. Their hit Du Hast was a powerful statement that escalated the mood of the German group into jumping in their chairs and shouting like crazy. Du Hast.. Shit, John muttered.

He needed a drink. John took out the bottle of whisky from his backpack, then passed it around the bus and cheered with the thirsty Germans.

Lela rang him minutes later. The bus soon will stop at the canal district. There you will get off! Then proceed to the bar Hours and wait. Got it? Indeed, John answered.

When the bus stopped, more crazy drunk Germans entered. John got off the party bus that soon faded into the city traffic and walked towards the Hours. He remembered the last time he had been to this bar. Shit had gone down there. John smiled. Crazy times. He noticed some of the people around him were wearing masks. The virus must be here already he though. Minutes later he entered the bar. It was the normal buzz of people talking, laughing and enjoying their drinks. He sat down in the bar end, ordered a pint

For once he felt like a beer. The pint was soon gone and he ordered another one. Why the hell not? The last days had been crazy. He needed to unwind. But before, he got far down into the second pint, Lela called him again. A woman will be waiting with a boat in the canal. Walk outside and you will see her. John paid in cash and left the grooving bar.

A redhead was in the process of parking a boat close to the street. He walked out on street and climbed down the railing and entered the boat. It was not a tourist boat for sure! It was a big high performance speedboat. The redhead looked fresh in the grey overalls she wore, and her cowboy boots seemed like natural completion of the outfit. Jesus, I must be really drunk! He though, and slumped down in the chair in the front of the boat next to her.

Her brown eyes focused on the canal. and maneuvered the big boat with ease past other tourist boats. They waved to her and she smiled back. John understood where they were going. She would probably cruise past Durgerdam and towards the open sea. Lela called again. I will be waiting in the company jet at Noroderhaaks at the small airstrip there. You ok? Yes I am having a blast, answered John.

The boat now passed Durgerdam and the redhead increased the speed. The boat leapt into action, soon it shot away like a single bullet through the Ijsselmeer waters. Suddenly another boat came towards them from the right. It was less then a mile away. It was fast but lacked the raw power of the high performance boat the redhead was maneuvering with the expertise and cunning of a sports athlete. Get down the redhead shouted as multiple shots rang out over the roar of the boat engine. John ducked. The shots went wide past their boat. The redhead now pushed the boat to maximum speed and the other boat lost ground behind them. It soon became clear that their boat was outclassed both in speed and power. It soon disappeared behind them. The redhead then threw out floating mines into the water behind the boat and then smiled to John. That will definitely slow the bastards down. They passed Den Helger and then minutes after, arrived at a small pier at Noorderhaaks. Two big men in expensive suits came running towards John. They carried machine guns. They quickly ushered John into a white Mercedes. When the car took off, there was a small explosion out at sea. The soundwaves hit the car. That redhead knew what the fuck she was doing, John told one of the guys that nodded back. She is a specialist, he answered. Ten minutes later the Mercedes entered the small quiet airfield. They drove him all the way to the plane. John took the backpack and jogged up the stairs to the entrance of the jet. The plane taxed onto the runway and stopped, then the pilot was given a take off clearance and soon the powerful turbines lifted the jet effortlessly into the air.

Lela was waiting in the jet bar. She looked at the bruises that covered his body while he put on a fresh set of clothes. Jesus dad, you look like shit!


More from this mystery thriller from JFK Løvlien.


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