Terminal Chase

Producer & International Distributor eBookPro Publishing www.ebook-pro.com Terminal Chase Ehud Peled Copyright © 2023 Ehud Peled All rights reserved; No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the author. Translation: Ziona Sasson Contact: [email protected] Contents CHAPTER ONE - THE ‘FISH’ CHAPTER TWO - JENNY CHAPTER THREE - IN BED CHAPTER FOUR - A FRIENDLY MORNING CHAPTER FIVE - A DEADLY LEAP CHAPTER SIX - THE INVESTIGATION BEGINS CHAPTER SEVEN - NUDE PICTURES CHAPTER EIGHT - CARMEN CHAPTER NINE - RAFAEL COHEN CHAPTER TEN - MOMENTS OF INTIMACY CHAPTER ELEVEN - THE PRESIDENT CHAPTER TWELVE - ASSASINATION CHAPTER THIRTEEN - A SURPRISING LETTER CHAPTER FOURTEEN - JULIA CHAPTER FIFTEEN - SEX, AT LAST CHAPTER SIXTEEN - BACK IN THE HOSPITAL CHAPTER SEVENTEE - A POLICE AMBUSH CHAPTER EIGHTEE - THE HEAD COMES TO THE RESCUE CHAPTER NINETEEN - A MYSTERIOUS FUNERAL CHAPTER TWENTY - THE KIDNAPPING CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - THE SAFE HOUSE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - BERNARD FOX CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - PREPARING FOR THE OPERATION CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - THE EXCHANGE CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - HOME AGAIN CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - A GARDEN PARTY CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - PANORAMA CAFÉ CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - A SMALL EXPLOSION LAST CHAPTER - ADAM AND EVE JUMPING THE GUN The bartender approached Emil and hovered over him. She came at precisely the right moment, just as his glass was emptied. “Tell me, what would you recommend as a good chaser after whiskey, to make sure I get drunk quickly? Understand, money’s not the issue, it’s just that I’m in a bit of a rush.” “Where to? People who want to get drunk usually don’t have anywhere to rush to.” Emil raised his eyes. Surprise! It wasn’t the bartender, it was another woman, a stranger, a gorgeous blonde. Who is she? Where did she suddenly come from? She was already sitting on the chair facing him. Pale skin, amazing dark brown eyes, a slight smile, and not a happy one at that. “My name’s Jenny.” “I’m Emil.” “Can I join you?” “Gladly.” An unsolicited wave of sobriety washed over the alcoholic vapors in Emil’s brain that had begun drifting to the top of his skull. For thirty-two years he’s been walking this earth, twenty-two years of which he’s been ceaselessly and sharply aware of the presence of the opposite sex. Yet, when it came to taking action, he was far from being a hero. The dream of a gorgeous blonde who sits herself down opposite him at a small table in some intimate bar – he knew that fantasy by heart. He never believed it would ever happen to him. But now, just as he’s begun the process of snuffing it all out, ‘shuffling off the mortal coil,’ now, of all times, this dream is coming true?!? Assuming, of course, that the image facing him is real and isn’t just some apparition emerging from his deliberate effort to attain a state of intoxication. CHAPTER ONE THE ‘FISH’ “Hey, Doc, what sort of fish did you say it is?” “Not a fish, I said cancer, cancer!!” Emil recalled this macabre joke and tears filled his eyes. To his credit, he took some pride in the fact that he, for once, skipped the stages of denial, anger and self-pity and, with a relatively quick and soft landing, had entered the philosophical stage. Not ‘why me?’ but rather ‘yes, absolutely me.’ Not defying the Creator nor his cruel and blind fate; on the contrary – adopting a willful operative introduction to a new and different phase of life. It's not that he came to terms with the situation, nor did he declare an irrational war in the spirit of ‘I’m going to beat this thing.’ All he did was check the statistical data with the head of the Oncology Department at the hospital and, without any sense of relief, noted that his chances of eradicating this ‘fish’ now swimming through his veins stands at about twenty percent. Those who fall within the other eighty percent usually die within one to ten years from the time the disease erupts. It all depends on just how aggressive the ‘fish’ is which, by the way, never committed itself vis-a-vis the doctors nor the patient to a consistent and linear line of development. Just as it can suddenly vanish like a bad dream, it can also open its jaws and devour its prey with a single, short burst of barbarity. ‘I have cancer, I have cancer, I have cancer,’ Emil kept repeating to himself. Not ‘the fish,’ not ‘the disease,’ not ‘sh...sh...sh’ – Cancer!! – clear and to the point. ‘First, I have to call it by its name,’ thought Emil. ‘No playing around, no innocuous moniker. To look the wild beast straight in the eyes... let’s see who will be the first to blink. The rest is nothing but dry statistics.’ It all began about three months earlier. Emil, a thirty-two-year-old bachelor born under the astrological sign of Cancer (which turned out to be a very unlucky sign), five-feet eight-inches tall, brown eyes, light brown hair, with a slim but not athletic physique and a winning smile. A mid-level insurance agent in a mid-level insurance company. Earns a salary plus bonuses. Lives alone in a rented apartment. Till now, things came quite easily to him. He carried on in his rather mundane life, with a balance of not putting in too much effort vs. not achieving any significant achievements. Clearly, he would marry before the age of thirty-five (though there was no girl in the offing as yet), have one or two kids, live in the suburbs, be widowed in his later years, die of old age and be buried in a modest ceremony attended by his two children, their spouses, perhaps some insurance agents, his colleagues, and maybe even one or two grandchildren. But now that timetable was