15. Club dinner in Barcelona (10 pgs.)

ACT I - CHAPTER 15

CLUB DINNER IN BARCELONA

Wednesday February 7, 2018

Hotel Tres Cruces event room

Barcelona Spain

When the leaders spoke, Alexandre did not pay attention to their words but rather thought about what he had learned about epistemology and what had happened with Francisca. He remembered the image of her naked body linked to his vision of the clouds before opening the parachute, all mixed with logic, percepts and fancepts.

The speeches were over and now they were enjoying the cocktail at the annual party of the Kings Club of Barcelona. Everyone was there, coaching staff, club leaders and owners, girlfriends, journalists, sports agents, representatives of sports brands and friends of football. After the cocktail, dinner would arrive. Victoria wore an elegant black dress.

Franco Gambino was next to Lenel Anston and Alexandre felt like strangling him right there. Victoria was chatting with her friends about the details of its marriage, an occasion that Alexandre took advantage of to get closer to Lenel. He wanted to meet his enemy.

“Congratulations!” Franco Gambino said and Alexandre raised an eyebrow thinking, Congratulations on what, damn.

“I’m referring to your marriage and your good performance on the football field. I think you are on your way to surpassing legends like Maradona,” he added.

“Thank you, but Diego is insurmountable.”

“Do you know Lenel?” Franco asked.

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“No.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lenel said, extending his hand.

“What is your relationship with the football family?” Alexandre asked him without stretching his hand and thought, If you killed Ronald, I’ll kill you.

“He’s my friend,” Franco reacted when he saw that Alexandre did not return his greeting.

“Congratulations Franco, I think this party represents the best and worst of human nature,” he said, looking Lenel directly in the eyes. He walked backwards without turning his back on them.

Lenel felt the blow. In the depths of his mind, he swore to kill him.

“You did a very good job with his friend Ronald, but it won’t be necessary to do another one. We have followed him and spied on him. Alexandre is clean,” Franco said.

“I follow him too,” Lenel said and thought, You’re not going to fool me, you old decrepit. “He locks himself in his apartment and does not go out with his friends. Once a month he disconnects his cell phone and it is not possible to track him. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?” Lenel added.

“The Family is calm and does not want more violence. Capisci?” Franco said.

Lenel had sworn that he would destroy the leaders of The Family, whom he considered a band of backward and cowardly old men. How was he going to save the world with them on the road? They were packs of wolves with collars and ties that survived from generation to generation.

To finish them off, Lenel would take control of The Family. If he did it, how proud his mother would be! He thought that his divine destiny would be fulfilled to save the world, after all, he had been born in an eclipse.

Lenel sincerely adhered to the ideals of the brotherhood and was feared by many. He was not like them who only wanted personal gains. He would purge the brotherhood when he came to power.

For Lenel, Franco was useful for his purpose, in fact, Lenel had risen quickly thanks to him. He had obeyed him in everything to gain his trust.

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He felt that Alexandre, in some way, opposed his intentions, but he could not kill him without Franco’s consent. He would have to wait.

“No more violence. Capisci?” Franco insisted again and thought, This bambino still thinks he’s smarter than me. How pathetic!

“Capisci,” Lenel responded and thought, Wait and see, old retrograde man.

At that moment Franco received a message on his cell phone. It said: “GC: INRI. GC”. It was the secret key of the Great Coordinator, who was in charge of several “Families” like the ones Franco belonged to. All of them old dynasties that formed the ruling class of The Family.

Nobody knew the Great Coordinator. It was suspected who he could be, but no one knew for sure. No one had more power than him. There was no one above him. Everyone obeyed him. It was not known if it was a group or a single person. What was known was that anyone who did not obey him fell into disgrace: illness, bankruptcy or fatal accident.

Lenel didn’t know the Great Coordinator existed. Only those he chose knew of his existence. They were from powerful families that reached the top of the brotherhood, those who stood out publicly and made large donations like those made by Franco Gambino. Before entering, they were asked for a test of loyalty that consisted of some act of blood. They were human sacrifices or murders that were filmed to criminally compromise the chosen one. Thus, the Grand Coordinator could use the evidence in case of betrayal. It was a simple system that had worked for millennia.

The INRI message from the CG was a message in Latin. Igne Natura Renovatum Integra. It meant the fire of nature renews everything. It was a phrase that rhymed very well with Gambino’s favorite phrase: “to make omelettes you have to break eggs”.

The Great Coordinator wanted to install a new world government that they had called: INRI, the Phoenix that would be reborn from the ashes. The message written in verse could only be read and understood by his chosen ones who knew how to decipher its secret meaning, as was the case with Gambino.

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INRI

Our ideal we’ll now close,

after centuries of work,

phoenix will be sacrificed,

and we shall reborn in fire.

Among thousands of probabilities, Franco was one of the ten chosen from the elite who had received the verses of the Great Coordinator. The ten controlled thousands who controlled millions around the world. They were the true rulers.

“Argentina is always a finalist candidate,” said a journalist to a group of players in the cocktail lounge.

“Brazil was the first to qualify and seems to have a strong team,” said another.

“This time England is going to win,” said an Englishman who had joined the Club from Manchester Lions a year ago.

At that moment Alexandre, who was listening to the conversation, felt his cell phone vibrate.

“SIROB URGENT NOW Café Italia on the corner at the exit of the hotel on the right”.

Alexandre went out to the bathrooms, removed the battery from his cell phone and put everything in a steel fiber case. He went to the parking lot, opened the trunk of his car, put down his jacket, and put on his hoodie and sunglasses. He left the hotel through the parking lots, searched and entered the cafeteria.

“What’s going on?” Alexandre asked him.

“Do you know Peter Bolt?” Boris asked.

“No. Who is him?”

“A hacker. The official version says that he was murdered by a thief who broke into his apartment on the day of Ronald’s funeral. I have my doubts. Was there anything out of place that day?” Boris asked.

“No, except that Franco Gambino gave me his card and told me that if I needed to talk about books, he could give me a free pass to the Vatican Library. It was very strange,” Alexandre said, remembered something and added. “One moment! Now I remember the coded message Ronald sent me.”

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“On the day of his funeral?” asked Boris.

“No, the day of his accident.”

“I didn’t ask you about the day of his accident, but about the day of the funeral. Anyway, what message did Ronald send you?”

“It’s like a letter code. I tried to solve it, but I couldn’t.”

“Do you remember it?”

“Yes, I have it on my cell phone,” Alexandre said. “Write it down, maybe you can decipher it,” he added, showing it to him on his cell phone.

“Write it on a piece of paper and delete it from your cell phone,” Boris said after writing it on a napkin.

dpejhp—fo—qfoesjwf

“I’ll try to figure it out,” Boris added and thought, This is getting interesting.

“What is the urgency of seeing me?” Alexandre asked.

“This is much more serious than I thought. I think Peter Bolt was not killed by a thief, but by Lenel,” said Boris.

“Are you sure?” Alexandre asked.

“For now, it’s a vague clue, but I’m working on it. It looks like this is a lot bigger than I thought. I want you to use this keychain. If you click here a GPS system is activated and I can locate you. It is Russian high technology that my former friends in the KGB provide me. They are the best hackers. If you get kidnapped, I’ll know where you are. Use it in case of emergency.”

“Thank you,” Alexandre said, and put the keychain in his pocket.

“Do you think Ronald knew the hacker?” Boris asked.

“He never told me that he knew any hacker. Ronald and I learned to hack and competed in hacking just for fun. I once jokingly asked him if he had been trained by Scotland Yard and he jokingly responded by saying the CIA.

“The CIA?”

“Yes, but he said it as a joke, I’m sure.”

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“Did you learn to hack?”

“Yes. We learned a lot, but in the end, Ronald got a big advantage from me. We never hurt anyone.”

“Why were you interested in hacking?”

“It was just another sporting competition. We liked to compete in all kinds of difficult things.”

“This is much worse than I thought. Apparently Bolt discovered a large-scale military operation. If he told Ronald, maybe they thought he knew too much and that’s why they killed him. But if Ronald worked for the CIA that changes my entire investigation,” Boris said.

“I knew Ronald very well and I know that he did not work for the CIA. I’m sure what he told me was a joke.”

“If Ronald didn’t work for the CIA, Bolt did. I already confirmed it. They hired him for difficult cases and it was said that he was the best hacker in the world,” said Boris.

“If Bolt trained him, that would explain why Ronald beat me in the hacking competitions we did.”

“If the CIA is behind this we are up to our necks. Is there anything else you know about Ronald that you haven’t told me?” Boris asked.

“No.”

“You have to protect yourself because you are in danger. Use the keychain in case of emergency. I have to go.”

“And I have to go back to the party.”

“Alright.”

“Bye.”

Victoria was looking for him all over the room; she hadn’t seen Alexandre for ten minutes.

“Congratulations darling! You two make such a cute couple!

Where is your fiancé? He is very handsome!” a lady told her.

“Actually, I’m looking for him,” Victoria replied.

“He’s probably with his friends talking about football. That’s all they talk about, right?” the lady commented.

“Alexandre sometimes talks about philosophy,” Victoria said and thought, What a misplaced woman.

“Philosophy? Oh! How boring! I hope it’s not too frequent! Who understands the jargon of those academics? It seems that they like not to be understood in order to feel important and get jobs at universities. They could talk in simpler words, don’t you think darling?”

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Victoria nodded her head and thought, Tremendous truth! Does she understand what she said or repeat like a parrot? She was looking for Alexandre, but he was nowhere to be found. There were so many elegant and attractive men, and so many beautiful women. However, she trusted Alexandre. She thought, Darling, don’t even think about it! I already made things very clear to you!

“Do you remember me, Victoria?” Francisca said, appearing behind her and extending its hand.

“Yes. Alexandre saved your life on the day of the funeral. You’re not going to trip here, are you? she said returning the greeting. Phew! That was rude! she thought. She was tempted to ask her about the kiss on the message, but since she knew it was her, it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m Francisca Walker. I wanted to congratulate you on your marriage. You two make a very beautiful couple. Such a handsome man with a woman as beautiful and attractive as you. It must be difficult to walk the streets.”

“You are also a very beautiful woman Francisca, thank you. What is your relationship with the club?”

“My father owns three hotel chains where the club stays during pre-match gatherings. I work with him, but I also love football and especially the Club de los Reyes de Barcelona. They have the best and most attractive players, don’t you think?”

“Indeed! They’re very attractive,” Victoria responded, tensing her body, looking away and thought, Don’t even think about sleeping with him behind my back!

“I would like to offer you and Alexandre a special dinner, courtesy of the hotel, an intimate dinner of friends, quieter and without all this hustle and bustle where we can talk about philosophy.”

“Why philosophy?” Victoria asked and thought, This is weird!

“You know that it is the topic that Alexandre is passionate about. With his friend Ronald they earned the nickname “The Philosophers” and even appeared in the newspapers.

“Yes, I already know that. What do you want?” Victoria interrupted without looking at her.

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“I don’t believe that footballers don’t use their heads because they make a living with their feet. Everyone has gotten where they are because they follow some kind of philosophy, but they don’t realize it. I imagine that you, as an aeronautic physic expert, must have very interesting philosophical conversations with Alexandre.

“How do you know so much about me?” Victoria asked, looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Because your marriage is in all the newspapers and magazines. I read somewhere that you studied aeronautical engineering.

“Actually, yes. And where does your interest in philosophy come from?” Victoria asked.

“It’s something I learned as a child with my father. He is an admirer of Aristotle. Please accept my invitation. I’m not going to interfere in your marriage. I can organize a beautiful dinner for three. Goodbye,” Francisca said abruptly, handing her card and thought, Are you as innocent as you appear, little bird?

“Thank you, bye,” said Victoria, watching her walk away wrapped in her green suit that highlighted her beautiful long, red, curly hair. I don’t blame you Alexandre! she thought. She was exquisitely attractive and looked like she had put a spell on her. Who was she? What did she want? For now, she didn’t know, but she would play along until she found out why she had left that note with that kiss. It was a fascinating enigma. She felt someone put a hand on her shoulder.

“Alexandre! Where were you? Don’t disappear like that! I looked for you everywhere!”

“I am here, my love. I wasn’t feeling well and went to the car to get something for the headache.”

“Do you want us to go?”

“No, I’m better now, who were you talking to?”

“I think you know better than me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She is the woman who bumped into you on the day of the funeral and with whom you were seen in London, kissing her. She greeted me and invited us to dinner as a courtesy of the hotel.”

“Courtesy of the hotel?” Alexandre asked, pretending not to understand.

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“I guess it must be because of our marriage. She is the daughter of the owner of this hotel chain where your team meets before games,” she told him, passing him the card.

“Francisca Walker. Chief Operative Officer of Walker Hotels? I didn’t know any of this,” he said.

“She congratulated me on our marriage and invited us to dinner.”

“What kind of dinner? Where? When?”

“I don’t know. She simply said it would be a quiet, intimate dinner where we could talk philosophy. Her intelligence makes her even more attractive, don’t you think?

“Yes.”

“So, what do you want to do?” he asked, looking away and thought, Join the party!

“About what?” she asked, holding back laughter from reading his thoughts.

“About the invitation,” he answered and thought, Hide it!

“I’ll think about it,” she said, putting the card in her purse.

Victoria outlined a plan. Maybe she would join the party to find out who she was dealing with. It was better to be close to the enemy so as not to lose the man she loved.

“Did she propose to talk about philosophy?” Alexandre asked to hide more its intentions.

“That’s right,” Victoria responded, looking at the ground and hiding her laughter when she discovered he was hiding his intentions.

Alexandre felt intrigued and vulnerable. What do you want, Francisca? he thought, Are you going to tell her that I saw you naked and I didn’t want to sleep with you? he thought, remembering her statuesque body. Don’t you dare say anything to her before I do!

He had to stay up many more nights to finish the summary of the next philosophical meeting. It was more about epistemology. He barely had time and what also took up time that month was learning how to pack his parachute. He would have to open it himself in ten days. He needed to understand the “why” of each fold of the packaging. He packed it once a day, in slow motion, concentrating on understanding the logic of every detail of the process. It did not obey any whim but rather physical laws of reality that acted in a chained sequence of causes and effects, like one’s decisions in life.

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A single mistake and, in ten more days, he would kill himself. In any case, he knew that there was a reserve parachute that was folded by an expert, but he did not want to use it. If his parachute did not open completely, or his body became entangled in the ropes at the moment of opening, or his reserve parachute became entangled with the main one, his death was certain. He knew that you couldn’t make mistakes in free fall at two hundred kilometers per hour.

He watched the skydiving video more than ten times and practiced the opening moves while lying on his stomach on the ground. He had to automate the movements to adopt a horizontal position with his belly down when he fell at that very high speed. The most difficult thing was to be completely relaxed before opening the parachute, otherwise he could lose control or enter curves that were very difficult to get out of and whose end was tragic. He practiced the movements hundreds of times to automate them. He knew that mechanizing them could save his life, since terror paralyzed those who jumped for the first time.

In addition, he had to know how to navigate his parachute to the landing zone and brake at the right moment. If he braked earlier, the parachute would lose lift and fall backwards with a high probability of breaking his spine and becoming disabled.

Lastly, he had to be very alert before jumping out of the plane, because if by accident the parachute opened and he got caught in the tail of the plane, it would crash and everyone would die. Such an accident had occurred, the instructor had told them, who was at the airport when two pilots and eight paratroopers died.

His mind and eyes returned to the reception room and at that moment he saw Lenel and Franco leaving the room and, without realizing it, he reached into his pocket to take out the keychain that Boris had given him.

“I’ll wait for you tomorrow to have lunch with the new sponsors,” said Patrick, his representative, passing by his side at that moment.

“I’ll be there. Will they take the photographs?” Alexandre asked.

“That’s right, they say the session will only be three hours,” Patrick responded.

Alexandre knew it wouldn’t be three hours but at least six. Patrick received advice from a public image expert so that Alexandre’s advertisements did not contradict his image as a footballer. As his representative, Patrick was very professional and detail-oriented. Alexandre thought, He is as detail-oriented as a good skydiver. That’s why he’s doing well!

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