Naked Ambition. Dan Roberts

Naked Ambition - Dan Roberts


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program, texted his contact in the far-off, nondescript American town of Reading, Pennsylvania, where something big—something important—was about to happen.

      >> when is final plan to be approved? must have it in two weeks!

      Within minutes, a reply text, also encrypted, came in:

      >> approval on track. to be this week. you will have it as promised.

      Only moments after reading the incoming text, Chen heard a soft, feminine voice call out from behind him. “Drinks are ready.” He did not have to turn around to know that Melinda was standing at the door wearing nothing but a see-through negligee he had given her only yesterday. He knew she was standing only a few feet behind him, holding two martini glasses, one in each hand. He also knew that if he looked in her direction he would see her perfectly sculpted body with its voluptuous curves fronted by superbly succulent breasts and topped off by a splendid smile that had such an appeal for Chen that his heart, as well as his lips, were drawn to it like a magnet.

      Before he turned to face Melinda, Chen once more raised his eyes to view the picturesque sight before him. The sky was now filled with the brilliant shades of evening, a mix of golds and oranges and pinks. London at sunset as seen from the Dorchester. Ah, Chen thought as he smiled with satisfaction, the end of another magnificent day!

      SUNDAY

      WEEK ONE

      DAY 2

      IT HAD BEEN A LITTLE OVER twenty-four hours since Nick had last talked with his good friend, Zach Baker. That phone conversation had revolved around plans for an upcoming volleyball tournament and had ended on a positive note. Now, after having answered his cell phone’s ring, Nick heard a completely different tone in his buddy’s voice, one that was serious and solemn. Zach’s words were spoken with a sense of urgency as he said, “Nick, we need to talk. I can’t explain over the phone, but I gotta see ya soon. In person. Like fast!”

      Nick was immediately puzzled by this request. The only response he could think of was, “Like how fast?”

      “Tonight!”

      “Where?”

      “How about Zinn’s Dairy Bar? At our usual spot.”

      “What time?”

      “8:30”

      Knowing that Zach’s call was extraordinarily out of character, Nick quickly agreed.

      “Oh, and dude,” Zach paused a moment. “I’m bringing my dad along.”

      With that said, Zach abruptly hung up.

      ZACH’S INSISTENT WORDS WERE ROLLING around in the head of twenty-year-old Nicholas Blick as he drove north on Route 272. As his mind focused on the strained tone of Zach’s voice— an obvious indicator that something very serious was going on—Nick’s eyes momentarily glanced off to the west. The sun was setting; darkness was beginning to settle in. Nick checked his watch. It was 8:35. Damn, he said to himself, I’m late! With that thought in mind, his foot pressed down on the accelerator, bringing the speedometer needle up to the number 45, five miles faster than the posted speed limit.

      Within minutes Nick pulled into the nearly full parking lot at Zinn’s, a popular gathering place for friends and families on hot summer evenings like this one. After getting out of his car, Nick walked toward two shadowy figures, indistinguishable because of the now dim light of dusk. Those two figures were at the prearranged meeting place, a picnic table located at the far edge of Zinn’s park-like property. As Nick approached, two men stood up—one young, like himself, and one older, in his mid-50s.

      “Hey, bud,” Nick said looking toward the younger one. Zach returned the greeting in their usual way—with a knuckle bump. “Hey,” was Zach’s verbal response. Then, to the older man, Nick said, “Hi, Mr. B. How’s it goin’?”

      The older man reached out his hand and said, “Hi, Nick.” Then, with a voice hinting of uneasiness, Mr. Baker said, “I’m really glad you were able to come on such short notice.”

      As Nick shook the outstretched hand, he noticed that both Zach and his father wore somber expressions on their face. “So what’s up? I mean, what’s so important that we had to meet here—like this—now?”

      Mr. Baker looked at Zach first, then back to Nick. “We have a problem that I think you could help us solve.”

      “How?” was Nick’s reply.

      “By saying yes.”

      Hearing that, Nick’s eyes widened with surprise. Slowly, carefully, he said, “And just what do you want me to say yes to, Mr. B?”

      “Nick, I want to hire you.”

      Nick wasn’t sure he heard right. “You want to hire me? To do what?

      “I need you to do some… some snooping around for me.”

      “Snooping around?”

      Mr. Baker nodded as he said, “Yes.” Then, after a short pause and a glance toward his son, the older Baker continued, “It was actually Zach’s idea. He thought of you when talking to me about this… this problem.”

      Nick’s senses were now on high alert. While he was curious, he was also a bit wary. But he said nothing as he waited for Mr. Baker to explain.

      “Zach told me about a situation that’s happening at the volleyball camp where he’s volunteering. After he filled me in on the situation I recognized how serious it was. Or could be, anyway. So serious that I thought about calling the police. But then I realized we couldn’t do that. At least, not yet.”

      Nick, feeling frustrated, put up his hand and said, “Whoa. Slow down.” With his eyes darting back and forth between Zach and his father, Nick continued. “What’s this problem? And what’s so serious that you think you needed to call the police?”

      The father and son looked at each other. Then Mr. Baker said to Zach, “Go ahead. Tell him the story.”

      Zach took a breath. “Dude, this has to do with the volleyball camp I’ve been helping with. You know, the one sponsored by my father’s company?”

      “Okay,” Nick said in acknowledgment.

      “Well, there’s this guy who oversees it. He works at my dad’s company and was actually the one who had the idea to start the camp. I think I told you that it’s for boys twelve to eighteen who want to upgrade their skills in volleyball.”

      “Yeah, you did.”

      “Well, over the last week I’ve seen some… some stuff going on that I’m not comfortable with.”

      That got Nick’s attention. “Stuff? Like?”

      “Last week, one night after practice, I saw one of the kids from the camp getting into this guy’s car. The guy who started the camp.”

      “Okay.”

      “I’ve had some uncomfortable feelings about this guy. He’s kinda been hanging close to this kid. Several kids, actually.” Zach looked down at the ground and then back up at Nick. “I don’t know, Nick, but I just felt something was funny about what I saw.”

      Again, Nick noted his interest by saying, “Okay.”

      “Anyway, I saw this other guy who’s helping out—his name’s Max—go over to the car and talk to the guy with the kid. So, thinking maybe I could hear something, I walked closer to the car.”

      “And…?”

      “Well, when I got closer I could hear them talking about how things went at practice that night. You know, talking about some of the plays and stuff. And then the guy inside the car—he likes


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