The hotel suite appeared empty. It wasn’t. There was a dead man there!
Ari had left instructions with his wife earlier that day. “You are not to leave the suite unless you’re with me, or being attended to by Steve. There are problems here in the city you are unaware of, Kara, and if you’re not with me, I want you to be with one of my people at all times…”
“Ari, don’t be silly. I’ve been to Jerusalem three times in the past five years and I’ve never had any trouble. I know my way around and I don’t need your henchman poking his nose into every art store, jewelry shop and clothing boutique I decide to visit.”
“…AND I’m not asking you, I’m telling you,” Ari snapped. He had raised his voice, finishing his outburst with flailing arms and a pronounced scowl as he stomped about the room, his 6-foot plus, 250 pound body pounding the floor of their executive suite on an upper floor of the Leonardo Plaza Hotel Jerusalem. He stopped and glared at her, his face a crimson hue. His balding gray-streaked hair, bushy coffee eyebrows, penetrating brown eyes, pug nose, and short thick neck were more pronounced than normal when he was this angry. “You listen, because I’m making it short and sweet. I have many friends in Israel, but I also have enemies. I can’t and don’t please everybody. You do exactly as I say, and I don’t want any bullshit. You insisted on making this trip with me, and against my better judgment I took you, so you behave or I’ll ship your ass out of here….” (Ari leaves)
(Ari returns) The suite appeared empty. Ari called out, “Kara? Where the hell are you?” He had kept his promise and returned mid-afternoon. He called her name again as he headed for their bedroom, wondering why the door was closed. His man, Peter, was close behind and now extracted a Glock 17 automatic from its shoulder holster. Ari pushed the bedroom door open and…the bedroom was empty. Empty of Kara, but not of Steve, Peter’s partner. Steve was in a fetal position – on the floor, dead….