End Chapter 7

     Before Michael began to tell his tale he took a sip of wine, what passed over his lips was the most delicious red wine he had ever had in his mouth. "My God." Michael commented savoring the oakey notes, with a touch of raspberry and cinnamon.
     "Yes, I am very impressed myself.., this is an exquisite bottle of wine." Felina said not mentioning the age, rarity, or cost of the fine vintage, allowing her most welcomed guest to enjoy the potent libation.
      Michael drank in the wine and he immediately felt a rush of blood to his face, his cheeks pink with a slightly inebriated glow. He felt most relaxed, sinking down into the sofa, as Felina sat beside him, covered up by a crimson chenille blanket. And so he told her all, every detail of his crime, the case of the United States vs Dr. Michael Cullen, the charges, the expected prison sentence, and fines. Over the course of the hour, his first night in Argentina, as Michael explained it all to his new friend, Felina, she began to interrupt, stating. "How is it the American Government can tell a Doctor how many patients he can see in a day, or how much he can charge them, or how many prescriptions he can write. This makes no sense to me! And still the Government wishes to lock you up for ten years? The sense this makes.., is none!"
       Michael felt some sort of vindication by her statement, even though he knew Felina had no clue about the laws of America. "I did not know what else to do, I can not be at the trial next week. So I flew down here, to Buenos Aires, to start a new life." Michael said ending his tale, which felt more like a confession.
     "So.., what was your plan?" Felina asked as she curled up closer to Michael on the sofa under the warmth of the blanket.
     "I took $10,000 in cash, the most you can legally take out of the United States, and I have about $200,000 in time pieces back at my hotel.
     "Where are you staying?" Felina asked, a plan forming in her mind.
     "The Wilton." Michael said as he moved the chenille blanket over his lap as Felina leaned on his chest, his arm around her.
     "Yes, that is a very nice hotel." she paused turning her head to look in Michael's eyes. "Listen, I think I should take a look at those watches, I might be able to help you out. You could live a nice life here in Argentina for $200,000." Felina commented approving his plan to escape from justice. Then she gave a very serious look to Michael and she said "Your plan is a good one, I will agree, however, I will wager you could live a better life, spending your time with me."
     Michael was now in a deep, strange intoxication from the wine it was a little before three a.m. and he could not recognize the implication of Felina's suggestion. Michael let out a heavy sigh as he noticed Felina glancing over at the telephone. "Are you expecting a call?" he asked catching Felina off guard.
     Felina looked back at Michael feeling the wine coursing through her body as she felt her legs tingling with the effects of the 1945 Mouton Rothschild. "I called.., I left a message for my brother.., 2 hours ago!" she said nearly in tears as she glanced up at the mantle clock.
     "Where is your brother.., Xation?" Michael asked wondering.
     "He is with Bengiman, at the Ritz Carlton on Maui.., they go every year for the opening of the PGA season at Kapalua.
     "Who is Bengiman?" Michael asked wanting to know more of her story.
     Felina did not answer his question she threw the blanket off of them as she stood, glass of wine in her hand. She walked across the grandiose room over to the white, baby grand, Steinway piano: which was covered by photographs of her family in ornate silver frames from Tiffany and Cartier. Michael arose from the couch following Felina who picked up a photo staring down at it. "This is my brother, and my little sister and me." Felina said feeling the warming sensation of the wine seeping into her blood.
     Michael looked down at the photograph of the three of them aboard a sail boat in the Mediterranean, Xation, a tall, amber eyed, handsome man, with movie star looks, his lean, muscular arms wrapped around Felina and Serena's waists, both in black bikinis, looking drop dead gorgeous. Michael commented on the beauty of Felina and her family. Michael took a good look through the pictures noting the ones of Xation and Bengiman, a giant of a man, skiing in Switzerland, on the Beaches of the Costa del Sol, with Serena, whom Michael thought looked like the Latina phenom, Selena. Michael was impressed by the photographs of Felina's brother Xation on horse back during heated polo matches, wishing he could have been with Xation and his father, Carlo, when they teed off at Augusta. Or been at the outdoor cafe with Felina and her sister in Monaco watching the Formula 1 race. Each picture a record of some phenomenal achievement Michael could have only ever hope to dream of.
     Felina made a few snide comments about her brother, and the mysterious Bengiman Pruce, as she sat herself back down on the couch pouring out two more, full, glasses of wine, finishing off the outrageously expensive bottle. Michael curled up under the blanket once again with Felina, who seemed to calm down a little each time she sat next to Michael. "Why don't you tell me a nice story from your time in Illinois." Felina asked setting her glass down, resting her head upon Michael's chest as he placed his arm around her shoulder.
     Michael paused for a moment, recalling Christmastime of 1979. "It had been snowing for weeks, I was on Winter break from North Western, at my family's house, just North of Chicago." Michael began "During the long, cold Winter, for as long as I can remember, my Mother, Grace, would always put out sunflower seeds and fresh water for the cardinals, the state bird of Illinois. I remember one morning I looked outside, at the wooded area that lined our backyard, and there must have been hundreds of the little bright red birds, with their orange beaks, chirping as they fluttered their wings, foraging for seeds and fresh water there in the white winter snow." Michael exhaled recalling the splendid spectacle of nature, remembering the warmth from the fire inside his childhood home. As for Felina, she had curled up underneath the blanket, leaning close to his body, the rhythm of his words and the quiet beating of his heart causing Felina to fall asleep half way through his story. Michael made himself comfortable with his new friend resting on his body, as she slumbered in a safe, secured sleep, and he too felt calm. For Michael knew well, there are may ways to relaxation, and expensive red wine is one of them.
      So it was the two slept there on the comfortable suede sofa as the hours passed along until 7:32 in the a.m. this is when the peaceful slumber Michael and Felina had finally attained was shattered wholly by the sound of the telephone ringing loudly, arousing them to wake.
 
      

Chapter 7 continues

     Felina scrubbed her body clean, inside and out, as she stood in the steaming hot waters of the glass enclosed shower. She tried not to think about what had transpired but flashes of her attacker's face filled her mind every time she closed her eyes. Even though she had a prescription for Nembutal, for her ever present insomnia, Felina did not wish to take any of the pills, for she was afraid of what dreams may come if she went to sleep. Luckily for her Michael was still down stairs waiting for, so Felina hurried to dry off, rubbing a rose scented moisturizing lotion into her naked skin, then she slipped on a long black silk night gown with a matching robe, and a pair of pink satin slippers from Victoria's Secret of London. Felina combed out her long black, wet hair and applied some Oil of Olay on her clean, freshly scrubbed face. She rushed down stairs back to the kitchen where she thought Michael would have broken his promise to her and left her house, but Felina's fear dissolved away, like sugar in coffee, when she saw the handsome, blue-eyed man, sitting right where she had left him.
     "Well." Michael said as he stared over at Felina, who looked even more beautiful than before. In his experience, the majority of gorgeous women he had dealt with, looked a lot different in the morning when all the mascara, eye-liner, fake eyelashes and make-up came off, but not this one. Felina had clear, dark brown, tanned skin, with soft, full, moist lips, large almond shaped smokey quartz colored dark eyes,  and the look of extreme intelligence behind her piercing gaze. Michael felt like she could, in an instant, see right through him, to the ugliness inside him. However Michael had no idea of Felina's true, vindictive nature. "You are so amazingly beautiful." he said in all honesty as he stood up from his seat, extending his hand out to her.
     "How tall are you? About.., 6.1?" Felina asked not acknowledging Michael's compliment.
     "Yes! That is exactly how tall I am." Michael said amazed.
     "Yes, I thought so. You are the exact same height as my brother, Xation." she smiled.
     "Satan?" he asked mishearing her words.
     "No!" Felina laughed "His name is Xation. Though it does sound a lot like Satan, you are right." she rolled her eyes saying "And well, sometimes my brother has been known to act like Satan." she laughed
leaving Michael with the distinct feeling there was some sort of secret story there, but of her brothers actions, Felina did not wish to share. Instead she suggested Michael take a shower saying she would provide a clean pair of pajamas for Michael to wear to bed. So Felina led Michael through the elegant rooms, up the grand staircase to a large, well appointed, lavishly decorated bedroom that adjoined Felina's  room via a carved gilt door. "This is my brother's room, when he is in town." Felina said as she switched on the light.
     "This is the biggest bed I have ever seen in my life!" Michael marveled at the four poster bed whose supporting columns were like tree trunks, carved with vines, thorns and snakes, there were gold, silk jacquard drapes enclosing the bed which was covered in a thick soft duvet and  pillows of linen and silk. The bedroom itself was fit for a king, to say the least, and Michael was not far off from his belief, for Felina's brother Xation Day was  a king in the empire he had created for himself.
     "Yes, it was shipped over from an estate in Brittany." then she added "It is very comfortable." which, for some reason, Michael thought that was an odd thing to say about her brothers bed, but no matter, for Michael was quickly whisked away into Xation's closet; which Michael was astounded by, for the enormous closet was larger than his hotel room. It looked like the men's department at Barney's New York, There were hundreds of suits, shirts, ties, at least eighty pairs of fine leather shoes from every well known designer on the planet. There were two large dressers, pushed back to back, in the middle of the space and it was from one of the drawers Felina retrieved a pair of red Perry Ellis silk pajamas, she also took a pair a red plaid and shearling Ralph Lauren slippers from one of the endless shoe shelves, then Felina directed Michael to the large modernized bathroom. "I think you will be a little more relaxed after you have had a nice hot shower. I'll meet you down stairs." she gave Michael a sweet, sisterly-type smile, adding "I will put on some music and open a bottle of red wine.., we can stay up and talk, get to know each other better."
     "I'd like that." Michael smiled realizing he had made his first friend in this city; to which he had never been and he was glad to know that he was able to befriend a member of one of the wealthiest families he had ever known. Michael was quite pleased he was the one to be there, to help save this beautiful, charming, wealthy woman's life.
     "So make yourself at home, I want you to feel welcome here always."
     With that Felina went down stairs where she walked around the house making sure all the doors and windows were locked up tight. Then she went to the main formal living room, at the front of the house, where she switched on her C.D. player, cuing up a lengthy disk of Mozart. After lighting a few candles, filling the room with a warm soft glow, Felina brought out two Waterford crystal wine goblets and uncorked an expensive bottle of French red wine, a 1945 Mouton Rothschild; which she had purchased at auction for a little over $25,000 for her sister Serena's wedding, but that blessed day, tragically, never came. Felina opted, instead, to open up the bottle tonight on the special occasion that she was still alive. While Felina decanted the rare wine, she thought back on what the police had told her. They were almost positive the man who attacked her was the serial rapist/murderer that had been terrifying the city for the past two years. The detective said they could not be certain until the dead man's D.N.A. was matched up with samples of evidence found inside the victim's bodies, but with the composite sketches , made by a few women who managed to get away, the man that raped her and tried to strangle her, looked very similar to the man they were looking for.
     A chill ran up the length of her spine and through her entire body as she could see the face of her would-be killer flash before her eyes. Felina trembled as she remembered the feeling of his hands wrapped around her throat, and then she saw the stranger, much to her relief, come up from behind with the knife, spilling the vile man's warm, sticky blood out of his body. The thought of this man's death brought a great ease and comfort to her heart for she believed God, himself, had sent Michael, to save her. Then Felina made  a sacred and secret promise to the Lord, her God, that she would never leave Michael, nor would she ever forsake him. However her brother, and Bengiman, she was most unhappy with. For she believed, and held true in her heart, that none of this would have happened if Xation had not taken Bengiman off to Maui for a week of golf at Kapalua. For if Bengiman had stayed in town she would have not been there to be doing the payroll for him. And it would have been 6 foot 5, Bengiman Pruce, a former rugby player and ex-con, who the rapist would have encountered. Alas, it was poor little Felina whom he came upon, not the bald, British bastard, Bengiman Pruce. So while Felina waited for her guest to come down stairs she placed a call to her brother, trying to reach him on his cell phone. Now it was a little after 1:00 a.m. so she knew that it was after 6:00 a.m. at the Ritz Carlton, on Maui, but Felina did not care about the time.
     The phone rang and was answered by Xation's voice mail and Felina left a message for her brother "Xation! Algo terrible na sucedido esta noche, la policia se encontraban en Bengiman's pub. Necesito que me llame enseguida, yo estaba casi muerto esta noche!" Felina spoke in short, panicked breaths "Necesito que por favor llameme tan pronto como se reciba esta mensaje!" Felina hung up the telephone as she felt her pulse race and her blood pressure rise, the panic returning once more, then she turned and saw Michael, her hero, standing at the door. "Come, sit sown beside me here." she smiled graciously happy to see her new, dear friend, someone she could talk to, someone who would stay up with her through the long dark night. "Do you feel a little better after what has happened?"
     "I will be fine. It's you I am worried about." Michael said with great concern as he had overheard her on the telephone, he felt she was putting on a brave face for him, but Michael knew the events of this evening would leave a deep scar upon her heart and mind.
     "I do not know how I feel, honestly, but right now all I want to do is drink this  exquisite bottle of wine and get to know you better." Felina said as she filled up the goblets saying to Michael "So, please, tell me more about yourself. What is it that you do for a living? What brings you to Argentina?"
     Here Michael froze up a little, for he did not know if he could trust Felina with the truth of his story, yet something deep within his soul wanted to tell her all the sordid details of his life and crimes. And he truly felt, maybe, after what he had just done for her, saving her life, that she might afford him some sense of loyalty. Though, of course, of this he could not be certain. Michael let out a heavy sigh and slowly shook his head, determined not to speak, but he looked into her big, brown, trusting eyes and said "I will only tell you my story, IF you can honestly say you will keep my secret."
     Felina's eyes grew wide with intrigue, she moved closer to him on the sofa, taking his hands in hers, telling him "After what you have done for me tonight, I promise I will protect your secret, whatever that secret may be, with my life."
    

Chapter 7 begins

     "You can come out now." Felina said as she opened up the door calling down to Michael, who had fallen asleep on the couch while the police conducted their investigation and the coroner and his staff  hurried to remove the body, cleaning up the blood before it became a bio-hazard. Michael sat up wiping his tired eyes as he stared down at his watch it was just after midnight and he had still not eaten.
     Felina stood at the top of the stairs and beckoned him to come back up to the kitchen Michael smiled up at her, for she had brushed back her long raven hair and fixed her make up and she looked like a little sexy baker in her kitchen uniform "Are they gone?" he asked nervously as he slowly ascended the narrow staircase.
     "Yes, finally!" as she stood over the threshold of the doorway she said with a serious look "Now will you tell me who you are?"
     Michael smiled as he stood toe to toe with her as he gazed down at the dark eyed beauty and said "I am a wealthy businessman who can not afford the publicity." he laughed.
     "Be serious!" Felina said with a look in her eyes as if to say 'tell me your name or I will push you down this staircase'.
     "Michael, my name is Michael and this is my first night here in Buenos Aires. I am very tired and very hungry. All I have had for dinner is a half a bottle of whiskey." he answered most annoyed.
     "Well then.., Michael, let's get the fuck out of here!" Felina said as she grabbed him by the hand leading him through the, now spotless, kitchen as the dead man had long since been removed. Felina grabbed her purse handing over her car keys to Michael saying "Please drive me home, I am to distraught to drive and I do not wish to be alone tonight. I will make you something to eat from my own kitchen."
     "This is my first night in the city, I don't know my way around town."
     Felina smiled and said "It is alright Michael, I have been to my house, I know the way." she gave a soft laugh as she handed over the keys,
     Michael took the keys and the two left the little English pub, Felina setting the alarm as she had Michael lock the doors as they exited. Felina turned and pointed to a black convertible 1991 Maserati TC parked across the avenue "That is my car over there."
     Michael felt a bit of excitement getting to drive the brand new, luxury sports car. So they scurried barefoot across the street as Michael opened the car door for Felina helping her in to the passengers seat, then he climbed behind the wheel of the automobile, moving the seat as far back as possible to accommodate his 6 foot 1 inch frame. With a rev and a roar of the engine the two drove off with the windows down past the wide, tree-lined sidewalks, through the warm Summer night, down the quiet streets lit up by old bronze streetlamps like on the Champs Elysee in Paris. Felina instructed him to turn right at the corner, then three stop lights down they turned left, it was a brief eight minute ride as she lived just a stones throw away from the Cock and Bull.
     "Pull up in the driveway." she instructed Michael who was more than impressed with the town home, nay city mansion, she lived in. Michael turned up the U shaped drive way pulling the car to a stop underneath the portico, where the old carriages, of another time and era, used to pull up in front of the marble steps; which led up to 2 tall, intricately carved doors. "It is an amazing structure, is it not?" Felina commented as the two exited the vehicle.
     "How old is it?" Michael gazed up in wonder at the three story Parisian style ornate building with colonnades and solid marble balustrade and railings.
     "This was the first French Embassy in the city,  it was built in 1779, my grandparents purchased it in the late thirties and my sister and I had a complete renovation of all the rooms done, back in 1986. My sister Serena is a talented Interior Designer, she decorated the entire house!" Felina said proudly as she took Michael by the elbow and said "Shall we?" Felina asked motioning for Michael to unlock the door with the keys he was still holding. Now this seemed like a very intimate act to Michael, opening up this woman's front, for she was still a virtual stranger to him. Slowly he slipped the silver key in the lock and opened up the door as Felina, the mistress of this house, breezed past him, as some of the weight of the terrible night lifted up off her shoulders now she felt safe and relaxed, being back in her home. "Come! I will feed you."
     Michael had to be pulled along through the grand foyer as he gazed around at the marble staircase and gold and crystal chandeliers, large scale works of art, oil paintings dating back to the eighteen century, there were over sized crystal vases filled with giant bouquets of lilacs, roses, gardenia's etc..., gilt and marble tables, Louis XIV style couches, chaise lounges and high backed chairs, and massive, ornately carved, Italian marble fireplaces etc... Michael thought this was a home Princess Diana, or Alexis Carrington would feel very comfortable in. "Come on." Felina said pulling him by the hand as she led him to a massive, modern kitchen with black granite counters, stainless steel appliances, white ash cabinets, a black and white marble checkerboard floor. "I will make you a nice roast beef sandwich, how does that sound?" she smiled opening up her Sub Zero refrigerator.
     Michael's stomach rumbled loudly with a hungry growl as Felina laughed.
     "I will take that as a yes. Now sit, relax this will take but a moment." Felina said washing her hands as Michael sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen sitting himself down in a comfortable captains chair. He watched in silence as Felina moved with a certain grace through her kitchen. She grabbed a large saute pan from the cupboard to which she drizzled in a bit of olive oil, salt and fresh ground pepper, a drop of balsamic vinegar, some Worcestershire sauce, half of a sliced purple onion, two sliced portobello mushrooms, the aroma of which filled Michael's nostrils making his mouth water. Next she took out almost half a pound of deli-sliced, rare roast beef, this she placed in the pan where it sizzled and simmered with the onions and mushrooms. Felina opened up a large wooden bread box taking out a loaf of what she said was homemade honey wheat berry bread. Cutting off two Texas size slices she popped the dark brown bread into the toaster, while she waited Felina placed four hearty slices of Swiss cheese on top of the roast beef, letting it melt over the, heavenly smelling, mixture of onions and mushrooms. Michael watched as she took out a jar of mayonnaise, a small jar of Dijon mustard, and large bottle of stone ground mustard, slathering this on the warm toasted bread. Carefully Felina used she a spatula to place the tender, hot, juicy roast beef, smothered in Swiss cheese, mushrooms and onions between the slices of bread. Then she cut the large sandwich in half, diagonally and placed a few strawberries and grapes on the plate; which she sat in front of him on the counter. All this took about five minutes and Michael was in a word, delighted! "Here, you eat up!" Felina said as she handed him a napkin, pouring him a glass of cold San Pellegrino. "Michael?" she asked a look of worry coming over face.
     "Yes Felina?" he asked only wanting to take a bite of the enormous sandwich.
     "I am going to take a nice hot shower, will you promise you will not leave? Will you promise to stay here with me?" she asked sincerely too terrified to stay by herself, not tonight. "I will take you back to your hotel, in the morning."
     "I would be glad to stay here with you, I promise I won't leave." he smiled warmly knowing she looked to him to protect her through the rest of this horrific evening. Felina gave him a sweet, little kiss on the cheek, then she went out to the hall, and went upstairs to have a nice cleansing shower. Michael sat in the kitchen of the magnificent house, devouring the most delicious roast beef sandwich he had ever eaten, all the while Michael still could not believe the course of events which led him here, to this city, to slice open a rapists throat, to save this woman, to be in her house. Michael could not help but wonder what else awaited him in Argentina.

    

End Chapter 6

     "Thank you for staying, and saving my life. My name is Felina, and I would be dead without you. He would have killed me!" Felina said between sobs as she tried to take a breath while Michael helped her down off the counter, setting her back down on her feet. The tearful, violated, dark-eyed beauty spoke softly standing in front of Michael, who towered over the petite lady. Felina grabbed his hands in hers bringing them up to her chest as she bowed her head and gave up a prayer of thanks to God, she said in a small voice in Spanish "Doy gracias a mi Jesucristo, quien ha cubereto mi cabeza en la batalla, y me libro de los manos de mi enemigo. Bendito eres tu que me ha enviado este parientes reventar, y juro os dame en deuda con el como has guardado mi vida medios necesarios, yo soy tu siervo, humilde y amorosa para siempre. Amen"
     "Amen." Michael said, as this was all of her prayer he could understand. Then a strange thing happened as he stood there holding the little woman's hands, for after she had offered up her prayer, a serene peace came over her countenance, as a brightness and clarity came to her eyes, her face softening, as every tense muscle in her body relaxed when she let out a deep, cleansing breath, she appeared to grow a little taller, her voice stronger. She looked up at Michael with a sweet, calm expression on her face as the pain and horror, her mind and body had just been forced through, seemed to melt away from her presence and she smiled at him with a great satisfaction and appreciation for her life. For Michael knew, without a doubt, that rapist would have most certainly strangled the life out of her, just to stop her from screaming, but Michael could not abide by that, and so he reacted accordingly.
     "I want you to come with me." Felina said as she took his right hand in hers, her left hand trying to keep the table cloth, she was wrapped up in, from falling off. Felina led him down stairs to the basement of the old stone building which was erected in 1879. The cellar was cool, well lit, and well organized, the kegs of beer and shelves of liquor on the right and the walk-in coolers to the left, there was a red velvet couch along the wall, with a little glass coffee table in front of it. There, under the stairs, Felina opened up a little closet were she pulled out two chef's uniforms, she took a regular 'comme' shirt and pants, giving her handsome savior the executive chefs uniform. Michael stood there for brief moment as Felina dropped the cloth covering her well tanned and toned body, to which Michael turned away and Felina laughed, saying "Why are you embarrassed to see me naked, after what you have just witnessed. Go on, turn around."
     The two stood back to back as she dressed herself in the clean cotton garments while Michael stripped off his blood splattered tee shirt and now ruined jeans, his favorite 501's, and his Nike's. Michael felt awkward as he slipped into the clothes she provided, never knowing of all the expensive suits and gifts to come his way from the beautiful Felina Sarafina de la Rosa Diaz. As for now she bade him stay and wait down stairs she said "There is plenty to drink down here, or eat, if you can stomach food at a time like this, I will go and summon the officers, when they come I will close this door until they leave, and then you can drive me back to my home." here she embraced Michael tightly, thanking him once more for coming to her rescue, getting on her tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek and with that she walked up the stairs, barefoot, dressed like a kitchen worker, he could hear her on the phone with the police, the panic returning to her voice, caused by seeing the dead body of her attacker in a congealing pool of blood in the middle of the kitchen. Felina stood at the top of the stairs saying  "this might take awhile, so get comfortable."
      "What will you tell them.., about me?" Michael asked with a troubled voice.
      "I will tell them what happened, that a wealthy businessman came to my rescue and he could not afford the publicity for his company and so this man, who saved me, cleaned me up and left when I called the police." Felina said with a serious look adding "Do not worry my friend, this is Buenos Aires, I, and my family, are well respected in this city. I will take care of everything."
     Michael was now alone as he heard the sirens approaching the building. He felt nervous, anxious and still in shock, a little, so he quietly went over to the shelves of liquor, where he came upon a case of Johnnie Walker Blue. Michael had completely lost his appetite, slicing a man's throat open will do that to you, so he sat himself down on the comfortable sofa, putting his feet up on the little table as he leaned his head back, taking a few swigs off the brand new, expensive bottle of Scotch Whiskey. Michael tried to listen but he could not decipher what Felina was telling the police as he waited on baited breath in the basement. Michael felt as if what had just occurred was happening to someone else, as if he were in a film, or perhaps this was all a terrible nightmare, perhaps he was still on board the flight to Argentina, maybe he was only dreaming, he wondered. However Michael Cullen knew that what had transpired was all too real and he was more uncertain, now more than ever, of what future would bring, for he could have never foreseen this terrible, twisted turn his life would take, and he knew he was not mistaken, so with knots in his stomach and a silent prayer under his breath, Michael leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

Chapter 6 continues

     There, to Michael's shock and horror, he found upon the kitchen floor a man with a torn white shirt, on top of a woman, whose legs were forced, spread wide open, her arms held down at the wrists, as she kicked and screamed trying to get him out of her. The loudness of her voice concealed the sound of Michael's entrance into the little kitchen where he reached, instinctively, for a long, sharp butcher knife hanging from a magnetic strip along the wall to his right. With the quickness and precision of a surgeon Michael came up behind the rapist as his victim grew silent, in those brief seconds, as she watched wide eyed as the stranger took his left hand, grabbing a hank of her attackers hair, pulling his head back with great strength and force, Michael took the long knife in his right hand and instantly made a deep penetrating slice into the carotid artery, just behind the rapists left ear, and in a profound display of naked, brutal, ruthless power Michael constrained the knife deeply, painfully across, and into, the doomed man's throat, as hot, sticky blood spewed out from the long, thin crimson gash, his victim closed her eyes to the horror and gore feeling the warm, vile liquid, drip down over her face, lips, throat and bare breasts, as she felt the unknown attacker go limp with a hideous gurgling sound as he collapsed on top of her. Screaming, with her eyes closed tightly shut, the violated woman scurried back trying to get away, kicking with her legs to free herself from the blood soaked corpse.
      Michael threw the bloodstained knife down, where it slid, hidden, under on of the long metal prep tables, as he reached down pulling the corpse off of the terrified woman who had crawled to the back of the kitchen by the brick wall, where she curled up into little ball, trembling like a frightened rabbit, her hair, face and body drenched with the blood of a criminal. Michael walked slowly over towards her, his hands with open palms, a calmness and kindness in his eyes, saying in English, "It's okay, lady, he can't hurt you now." his voice sounding comforting to her, even though his heart was about to explode from the energy and excitement of what had just happened. Michael did not pause to stop and think about what he had just done, all he knew was he had to help this poor woman, who gazed at him with absolute terror in her black eyes; which peered up through a red mask of bloody death.
     Felina Sarafina de la Rosa Diaz sat there on the cold tile floor shivering uncontrollably as she opened her eyes staring out in shock and macabre wonder at the handsome, tall, blue-eyed stranger who had just saved her life. Felina's eyes gazed over at her assailant who had collapsed in a dead heap, the blood and life pooling from his body by the kitchen door all over the floor. Felina had no words, she could not speak, but she gave such a dreadful, disgusted look down at her half naked body, saturated in the blood of a criminal, Felina's handsome savior took great pity on her so he bent down and lifted her up off the floor, bringing her over to the dish washing sink.
     She was a  little wisp woman, an attractive full bosomed female, in her mid thirties, who could not be more than five feet tall, and she was as light as an armful of feathers. Michael knew the importance of washing the blood off her body as quickly as possible, to prevent any contamination, so he sat her on the edge of the deep steel sink and taking the nozzle, normally used to rinse dishes, Michael sprayed her down with the warm cleansing soap and water as she shook nervously as she used her hands to cup the water over her face, rinsing out any blood that may have dripped into her eyes. She said nothing as the stranger quickly helped to clean her up, he unbuckled the straps of her now ruined snakeskin, high heel shoes; which Michael tossed in the trash bin then he reached down washing off her bloodstained feet. Next he washed off the blood from his hands and forearms, Michael thought how unlike this was to a scrub sink in the operating room, then he could suddenly smell the blood, a fetid metallic odor he remembered from his days in surgery. With a regretful sigh, he went to find some clean bar towels to dry her body and cover her up with,this is when Felina took the nozzle of the long hose as she removed her tattered, torn skirt and used the warm water to rinse out the blood and semen from her body as she controlled her overwhelming urge to vomit as her body grew cold and every fiber of her being was as tense as wire.
     Michael turned and noticed her doing this, but said nothing as he realized the horror and significance of a woman who had been raped, that she had been violated INSIDE of her own body, that must be a very difficult memory to hold, and Michael went over to her with great sympathy and condolences in his expression as he tenderly wrapped her up in a few table cloths he had found in the linen closet. Felina took one of the tablecloths wrapping it around her long black mass of wet hair and she looked like a little shepherd girl who had lost her flock in a rainstorm. Felina gazed up at the handsome, blue-eyed American and with tears welling up in her expressive dark eyes she said to him in Spanish "Tenemos que llamar a la Policia."
     Now Michael was not fluent in Espanol, but he knew what Policia meant, then a terror, greater than killing a human being, on purpose, was being identified by the Argentine Police, whom Michael was sure would notify the F.B.I. and Michael could not let this happen. His eyes grew wide in fear and he turned to leave, shaking his head saying "I'm sorry, I can't let the police find me here!"
     "Wait! You can't just leave me here!" Felina pleaded to him in his native tongue. "I don't even know your name." she began to weep and moan, the weight of this terrible night, the defilement of her precious body, the blood and the horror. "Where are you going to now? Your tee shirt and jeans are splattered with blood!" Felina began crying and wailing like a wounded animal and with every tear drop she shed Michael's heart melted like wax over a flame and he turned back to her saying "Shh, everything is going to be okay."

Chapter 6 begins

     So it was Michael, along with the other travel weary passengers, touched down safely at the Ezeiza airport about a forty minute ride outside of downtown Buenos Aires. Michael was relieved and glad to be starting is life anew, as he exited the plane smiling at the wonderful staff who had taken care of him Michael said to himself 'Phase #2 complete'. All he need do now is get out of the terminal and hire an awaiting taxi. Of this Michael had no trouble as he breezed through customs and made his way down the escalator outside, where to his surprise he found it was a muggy 87 degrees, and sweltering. Michael quickly took off his long leather coat along with his cold weather accoutrement, for in leaving the frigid, bitter, North American Winter, here South of the Equator it was the middle of Summer. Of all his plans of emigrating to Argentina Michael had not factored in the weather and so he was most inappropriately dressed. Michael unbuttoned his suit jacket as he climbed into the back of a blissfully chilled taxi which had air conditioning.
    "Donde, Senor?" the old Argentine driver asked.
     Michael had been practicing a few phrases in Espanol on the plane, so he said confidently "Me llevara al Wilton hotel, por favor, Avenida da Calla." with a nod of is head the driver pulled away from the curb for the long drive north back to the city. This gave Michael a chance to take off his jacket and tie of which he crammed, along with his long coat into his carry on suitcase; which Michael would not let out of his sight. Trying to relax with an overwhelming excitement Michael watched as the sun set over the dark forests of cypress and pine trees, as the driver had a local radio station on, playing regional music that sounded a bit like country and western music, with a flamenco, folksy flair. The rhythms of the guitars help put Michael in a restful state of mind, and with a few longing, lingering thoughts of his hometown, Chicago, Michael was soon at a loss for words when they pulled up outside the city on the main highway. The city of Buenos Aires looked like Paris, or Vienna, among the newly fashioned, ultramodern sky scrapers in the massive city, there beside the vast and dark southern arm of the Atlantic Ocean, the centuries old buildings of European design were made of pink limestone and granite and were lit up by the fading sun in glowing coral and amethyst hues. Michael wondered what went on behind the giant carved wooden doors and wrought iron gates of some of the old palaces and homes of the former aristocracy of generations before. Michael had the overwhelming sense that the walls within the structures of this city, Buenos Aires, had many secrets to hide. Yet Michael had no idea whatsoever how right he could be. This city, in a strange way, reminded Michael of Chicago, in that it was a vast metropolitan area, with wooded parks and green spaces, with magnificent architecture, there beside a vast body of water, with a river running in an S, like snake, through the city, the Reachuelo, or 'Little River', this all helped to make Michael feel a bit less homesick, as this age old city seemed somehow familiar to him.
     His driver drove Michael through the Plaza de la Republica, a sort of Piccadilly Square, where a massive obelisk nearly 220 feet tall, a smaller version of the Washington Monument, stood in the center of the plaza turnabout surrounded by theaters, neon signs, night clubs, and bars. His driver explained the obelisk was erected in 1936, and some other facts Michael did not catch as the driver spoke too quickly for Michael to decipher. As the light of the new day faded into night Michael soon found himself being driven through the Ricoletta District down the Avenida Callao past embassies, museums, art galleries, boutiques and the old French Style mansions; which surrounded his hotel, a welcoming sight for sore eyes and aching back. Michael gathered up his suitcase, paid his driver, he only wanted to lie down, in a comfortable bed, for he had been seated for almost fourteen hours and it was almost 9 o'clock as Michael checked into his five star, opulent hotel. He was greeted by the nice man at the desk, who spoke to him English when he realized his hotel guest was having trouble with the Spanish language. Michael was relieved when the desk manager explained, the 'Portenos', as the Argentines called themselves, were very knowledgeable in several languages, Italian, German, English, etc.. So he spoke to him English as Michael went ahead and paid the $1,200 in cash for his seven day stay, for Michael wanted to live it up for a week before he settled down somewhere else, in the city.
     "I am very hungry and tired!" Michael said as he received his room key.
     "If you would like dinner, after you freshen up from your long journey, the kitchen closes in one hour."
     "Muchos Gracias." Michael said thinking he could take a quick shower and get a quick nap, then head back down to the restaurant for a late meal. However, when he laid down on the king size bed, after a long hot relaxing shower, Michael curled up under the soft silk sheets and closed his eyes for what was supposed to be twenty minute nap. Instead he woke up at 9:55 so he rushed to get dressed, throwing on a comfortable pair of jeans and a white v-neck, soft cotton, tee shirt and his Nike's, Michael hurried down the hall, taking the elevator back down to the lobby where he found the restaurant had closed and locked it's doors. With a sigh of distress he went to the concierge desk who informed him, this being a Tuesday, many of the shops and restaurants close early, as it is only Wednesdays, Thursdays, Friday's, and Saturday's when the city stays open until four a.m. Sunday through Tuesday is time to rest from all the drinking and tangoing. However the kind man did recommend Michael try a little authentic English Pub around the corner called, the Cock and Bull. So with a ravenous belly to contend with Michael left the hotel and wandered down to the old English style 'public house', where a sign hung out front; which had a painting of a red rooster sitting on the back of a black bull. Hoping for a sandwich or some fish and chips, Michael entered the bar. All was dark and quiet not a soul to be seen, no customers, no bartenders, no hostess, nor waitresses, nothing. They must have closed and forgot to lock up, he thought. Now suddenly as he turned to leave Michael heard a loud commotion coming from back in the kitchen, to his left. It sounded like a scuffle, heavy metal tables being dragged across the tile floor, then the sound of a struggle, when suddenly Michael heard a woman scream loudly, in a frightened, desperate tone, shouting in Spanish at her attacker. Michael felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as an icy wave coursed through his veins, quickly he turned, running back into the kitchen to offer his assistance to the woman who was screaming at the top of her lungs. Michael did not know what he would find when he threw open the kitchen door, but he had an overwhelming urge to see what the fuck was going on. So he summoned up the courage of a lion and went to see who needed his help.

     

End Chapter 5

     Michael slept all day long, arising around seven o'clock in the evening there in the little motel by the highway and the Waffle House. He took a long hot shower, still full from his enormous breakfast he laid back down on the bed watching some sitcoms on NBC. Michael fell asleep just before the local news, but not before he set the bedside alarm clock to wake him at 2:00 a.m.. Michael had slept for a good 16 hours over the past 24 hours and he felt rested but restless. Phase #2  had begun and he hurried to dress and ready himself, back in the same suit for his flight to South America. Michael secured his belongings as he waited for the taxi he had summoned. Michael switched off the light in the little motel room there in North Texas saying "Phase one, complete."
      Now the city of Irving is right next to the massive DFW International airport and Michael found himself at his terminal in only about twenty minutes. It was 4:15 a.m. just about two hours from his scheduled take off. Michael paid his driver and walked in to the building for a speedy check-in, where he showed his passport and paid for his ticket, then Michael went through security, where he was made to open up his carry on suitcase, just as the security team at O'Hare had made him do. So he, as in Chicago, showed the receipts for his small fortune in time pieces, explaining/lying he was a jeweler on a his way to deliver this shipment of watches personally. Being that he was well dressed, good looking and charming, his story/lie was effectual and most plausible. Two of the three members of the security staff were women so Michael was able to breeze through with a flashing smile and a little wink of his eye. All was going well for Dr. Cullen who would soon be on his way, he had secured his boarding pass, with one and a half hours left before departure. Michael did not think about this being his last time in America, his native land, nor did he stop to think about Chicago, or the trial, or his lawyer, nor did he even give thought to his partner in crime, Azir. No, Michael kept these thoughts away with visions of the furture and what might happen the next day when he would awake in a foreign land, where he had never been and knew no one. Michael recalled a short story he had read sometime ago, by Isak Dinesen called 'The Dreamers'; in which three men had been on a long, separate, desperate search, for the same woman, whom had broken all of their hearts in some terrible form and fashion. To one man she had been a beautiful prostitute in Rome, to another she was a rebel rallying, milliner from Lucerne, and to the other an angelic, devout pious young virgin in Madrid. She was in fact a wealthy woman, a world renowned young opera singer, traveling in different guises, creating a new life for herself, only always fleeing when she thought someone was too close to knowing her true indentity. So Michael thought he would be like Rosabella, making a new life, a new identity of his own design, he could be this jeweler from the United States. Michael had a rare opportunity not many people could afford, and that was to become another man, living a different life. Perhaps he would buy a little farm and take a wife. Of this Michael thought upon as a distraction from the reality and gravity of what he was about to do. For in fleeing the country he was about to be committing another felony; which if he was ever caught and brought back to justice, would add at least five more years to his prison sentence. Guilty. That is what the verdict would be, Michael knew it, his lawyer knew it , and the district attorneys and the federal prosecutors knew it.
    Michael grew anxious his heart racing a bit faster as the minutes approached to board the jumbo jet, it was the biggest plane Michael had ever seen as it sat parked down the jet way. Security came through again asking the typical pre-boarding questions 'did you pack your carry on yourself, are you bringing anything into the country for someone else, has your carry on been in your sight the entire time since you have been in the terminal, etc... Michael showed his passport opened up his luggage again and was relieved when the security agent moved on to the other passengers. Michael waited for the boarding announcement which soon followed as he presented his boarding pass and strolled down the jet way to the waiting aircraft and her bright eyed staff. Michael's fear of flying made him sweat and shake a little, the sound of the plane, the happy people speaking in Spanish, excited to get back to their home country. Michael had knots in his stomach and now he wished he had not drank so much coffee. Michael found his first class seat, next to the window and emergency exit, where he settled down for the 11 hour and 9 minute flight. He did his best to remain calm for the fifteen minutes or so, as all the passengers crowded into the fully booked morning flight to Buenos Aires. The attractive airline stewardess went through the pre-flight routine speaking only in Spanish, which Michael thought was strange as he had never traveled abroad so he asked  his stewardess, who explained they do this to welcome home their countrymen and to acclimate those who are unfamiliar with the language. Michael relaxed a bit before take-off with a glass of champagne, extremely happy he had paid extra to sit in the luxury of first class, something he had also never done before. His wide leather seat was comfortable and he had more than enough room to stretch out his 6ft. 1in. frame. He was surrounded by rich, well dressed, Latin men and women with gold and diamond rings and necklaces with small crucifix's, and medallions of their favored patron saint. All were showing warm, friendly smiles, partaking in polite conversation with one another, they all were relaxed having no fear of the plane crashing into the earth or disappearing in the Atlantic ocean. However Michael still had this nagging feeling in his mind, but as the jet plane roared down the runway, engines screaming, Michael and the 207 souls on board gently, and safely, lifted up off the ground, soaring up into ever brightening sky as the sun peeked up over the horizon bringing in a new day and Michael was on his way, traveling into the unknown, not possibly knowing what awaited. Yet if Michael Cullen could have seen into the future he would have never left the United States.