Death in December

By Ivair Antonio Gomes

A series of seemingly disconnected murders have drawn the attention of a police delegate shortly before the largest meeting of the Americas’ leaders: The Mercosur Meeting, which will be attended by world authorities and leaders in economic management. There is someone willing to make this meeting a failure. What would be the consequences if the future US president were murdered on Brazilian lands? Who is the mysterious murderer, the man behind the codename "X-strange"? You discover and accompany the Brazilian and international authorities in this thriller that leaves nothing to be desired for the best texts of the genre.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Jun 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781547535187

Book preview

Synopsis

Federal Police, CIA, FBI, Mossad and Interpol in an electrifying hunt for a murderer in Brazilian lands. A series of apparently disconnected murders draws the attention of a police chief shortly before the largest meeting of the leaders of the Americas, the Mercosul Meeting, where great leaders and world officials will be present. There is someone willing to make this meeting a failure. What would be the consequences if the future US president were murdered on Brazilian soil? Who is the mysterious killer, the man behind the codename Xtrange? Follow the Brazilian and international authorities in this thriller that leaves nothing to be desired for the best texts of the genre. This will be the harbinger of an unforgettable summer.

THE ARRIVAL

In Brazil it's like summer in November, although the season only officially starts in mid-December. The sun, depending on the time, can cause serious damage to the skin of those who are not accustomed to it at this time of the year. A good sunscreen is necessary for those who are enjoying the Brazilian beaches.

The Praia dos Ingleses, located in the district of the same name, has a population of about 20 thousand inhabitants. In the summer this number increases from five to ten times. The neighborhood is 38 kilometers away from the center of Florianópolis, being connected by an extensive and busy highway. This name is due to English castaways that arrived there in the 19th century and decided to make this place their home, dividing the space with native fishermen. British people have everything a big city needs: supermarkets, pharmacies, gas stations and amusement parks. It also has a large hotel chain.

Before arriving in the city, the man wearing sunglasses and a cap on his head thought the place would be taken over by Federal agents, but now, being on site, he concluded that security was inefficient and the number of police officers reduced. What also did not go unnoticed by the man was that in the neighborhood there was no berth for medium and large boats. This meant that he would have to change a measure in his plan, but it would not change the final result in any way.

Walked to the end of the sand strip and contemplated the dunes that separated Praia dos Ingleses from Praia do Santinho, his goal. The sand strip on the beach should be between 15 and 30 meters wide and some 4 kilometers long.

In the place where he was, there were the boats of the fishermen, some houses and hovels that the sand in a few years would cover, as well as those that now only had the roofs appearing to demonstrate the power of nature.

He climbed the dunes and watched the course he would take. In the distance he saw two people walking in the sand, probably going to the beach that was also his destination.

Had read that there were many legends about stories of witches who lived on the island of Santa Catarina, more properly in this neighborhood. But what had caught his attention was the discovery that until recently the place had kept an interesting collection of rock inscriptions that pointed to an ancient and primitive human occupation.

According to what he had learned, the Praia do Santinho (Saint’s Beach) has this name due to a stylization of a human figure engraved in an isolated block of diabase. Ancient residents and even some Indians worshiped the image drawn on a stone block as if it were a divine representation, and that is the reason for the name Santinho (Saint). This block disappeared mysteriously. Some people blame an already deceased priest for the mysterious disappearance of the figure. The man took off his cap and passed the back of his right hand, wiping away the sweat that ran down his forehead.

Took the opportunity to change the bag to his other shoulder. He put on his cap again and began to walk, trying to guess which way the people in the front had followed. He brought his left hand to his forehead, protecting his eyes from the sun. He was looking ahead to find the footprints in the sand.

In some places there was a low vegetation and also birds. Quero-quero, the name of the bird came to mind, remembering the readings he had made about the country.

He had had to do his best, for customs and language were entirely new to him. He had been to three Portuguese courses at the same time. He had managed to acquire a Latin-like accent. Argentines and Uruguayans were not lacking in the place.

Heard the noise of the waves breaking on the beach. Soon his eyes saw a place of unique beauty and privileged location: a wide sand strip with almost the same length of the Praia dos Ingleses. However, here the buildings were totally non-existent, except at the opposite end of where he was, on his left. That was where he should go. Where the tourist complex of the Costão do Golfinho Resort was located.

Before turning to the other end of the beach, he looked around. There was no one around. Carefully, he climbed up the stones to his right. Some 20 meters ahead, and hidden from the curious looks of tourists who could possibly appear, he opened the backpack. Inside were several meticulously arranged pieces.

A rectangular metal plate measuring 30 centimeters wide by 40 centimeters long, supported by flexible, folding pipes, was fixed to the floor with the help of two small pins that he hammered on the rock. Above the flexible legs in the shape of a V there was a small bulge with a hole no larger than 10 centimeters in circumference and adjustable with tabs to better secure it. Next, a retractable, one-meter steel tube to fit into any backpack a little over 40 centimeters was coupled inside this bulge, and tightened with two tabs on top of the bracket. Apart from the steel support, all the pieces were made of carbon fiber 23, which facilitated the passage in the airports where he circulated. By turning it, he made the special bezel give a focus on the construction at the other end. However, it did not have enough angle. There was some vegetation between him and the building. He should look for a higher location where he would have a wider and better viewing angle. He adjusted the telescope in search of prepared agents for something like what he was doing. He did not see anyone who seemed to be watching. He smiled. He lit the cigarette he had in his shorts pocket. He took the sunscreen and applied a little more on the shoulders and face. He pressed a button on the base of the machine, which swiveled on its axis to the left, and then down again. He then began filming.

The builder of the machine had been a Dutch craftsman who had had his name associated with the Irish Republican Army (IRA) several times, but unfortunately for the police, they have never been able to prove anything. He was a mechanical engineer who had long manufactured on demand. Special orders, such as the one he received by mail along with a check for $ 100,000, promising another equal amount once the work was completed. The check was from an account under a false name, which was opened only for that service. When the order was completed, the craftsman's body was found in an Amsterdam bay a week after a terrible fire in the bank where the account was opened, burning down all possible documents for future customer identification.

A few minutes later, he dismantled all the equipment and put it in his backpack, he put out his cigarette and went to the other end. As he walked, he would take some pictures and write them down on a pad of paper for later identification. Walking along the beach, he discovered a spot that could be ideal as an observation post. It was in the southern part of the tourist complex and it was on the opposite side of where he was. It was a hill with small, low vegetation covering it partially.

The sun was strong and he took out the bottle of mineral water he carried in a side pocket of his backpack. European and Asian waters have a peculiar taste, different from South American water. Although many said the purest water source in the world was located in China, he imagined that bottlers might use some chemicals. He recalled that he had read in Science & Fiction, an American tabloid circulating in Wiscousin, that due to nuclear tests in the Pacific and elsewhere, the drinking water from these places or neighborhoods could be contaminated. According to experts, the water tables of these sites were located in regions where there would be danger of contamination.

He had no difficulty in the signs that said to be the cleanest beach in Brazil. However, he noted that even at certain points on the beach there was water flowing from sewage pipes into the sea, and the garbage also accumulated in some places.

People passed by him. Argentines. He fled at the urge to exchange a few words, trying to talk and learn a little more about the interior of the resort. He would have time for that later.

When he saw the Porteños, he had remembered the last time he had been in the north of Argentina, in the province called Gran Chaco, bordering Paraguay, arranging things for an Argentine exporter with problems with a judge. It was a quick and easy service. In a week everything was settled. As the man liked to fish, they were not surprised to find the body of the judge, or what was left of him, in a river full of piranhas.

He finally arrived in front of the majestic hotel complex that stood as if it were some kind of medieval fortress surrounded by a wall almost two meters high. He looked around. He had saved the camera. A camera in the back could look like a simple tourist, but at the same time there was a risk that some security would entail this, then his face could be easily identified.

There was a restaurant on the seafront, still inside the resort, and next to this was the entrance to the hotel. There were no security guards at the gate. Maybe it was too soon for that. It was still thirty days before the meeting. Directly in front of the restaurant, some guests lounged stretched out in their beach chairs under the shade of an umbrella. It would be very easy to enter the room at that moment, but on the day of the event there would be a hundred security guards and agents there.

Looked closely at the place, trying not to arouse suspicion. He sat for a moment in the sand and stared at the sea. In fact, his mind was scanning the surroundings and making a mental map. He walked toward the stones on the right side of the sea, which were not more than 30 meters from the hotel. The side of rocks would lead to a hill that surrounded the place. He chose this as his observation post. The hill rose to the left side of the complex, completely glued to it. Walking down the shore was a new building being erected. It was the place where the International Hotel would be inaugurated. It seemed grandiose. He counted about 120 apartments in a building of only three floors. He concluded that the work was in the final phase. Some of the workers were working and looked curiously at his direction. He was a little worried, but soon he noticed that they were looking at some girls who were lying on the stones, exposing themselves to the sun and to the eyes of the curious.

He walked along a small trail that was led by fishermen that skirted the hill, then glanced around to make sure he was alone, and galloped into the small bush to get an isolated spot that suited him best.

The vegetation was high enough to cover up a man, but there were many shrubs that cut through the skin, and in a short time he saw his legs with a few scratches. He decided to memorize the route, since he would have to return there more often and, in one of them, he would have to bring equipment.

After walking for some time in the woods of the hill, he came to a small clearing where there was a protruding stone, superimposed like a table, where he could better position himself, stretched to the ground. He adjusted the bezel and its holder. After making sure the metal legs of the stand were firmly fixed, he tried to get the best view. With a knife he cut some branches that were in front of him, damaging the vision. He cut what was strictly necessary, for he had to be careful not to be seen from below, and he could not leave a trace that someone had been there.

Focused the camera and got an angle that he considered perfect. He started filming again. The tourist complex was formed by four large architectural ensembles. A wall fortress more than two meters high and, above this, a cover of thorny forest protected the Village, the International Center for Events, the Spa Clinic and the International Hotel, still under construction. The Village was focused on family tourism, with the privacy and security of a modern private condominium. There were 14 villages, and the last unit was still to be completed, making a total of 217 comfortable housing units. The International Hotel was the closest to the hill where he was. Here were the workers who saw him go by. He watched the pools and decks toward the sea. He focused on a building block further inside the complex, the International Events Center, where he should be able to analyze as much detail as possible. He calculated that the Event Center would occupy an area of ​​5 to 6 thousand square meters, where he could see large exhibition halls, restaurants and shops, as well as a huge parking lot. While the camera was filming the surroundings, he began to take another sequence of photos.

He paid attention to the employee’s uniform. With a zoom of the powerful telescope, which was attached to the camera, where a deadly weapon would later fit, he identified the details of a man’s figure serving a client in the shade of an umbrella. The power of reach was such that he could easily tell the nail polish color of a lady on the restaurant counter. Again, the telescope began to film. The man from Amsterdam had done a good job.

With a pen, he wrote down everything he had observed in the small block on which he had already noted the sequence of photographs. He paid special attention to the points where the security guards could be positioned on the day of the event. He wondered if they could see him from below. The angle and distance from the view of the agents would not allow them to see beyond the tangle of branches and leaves. He concluded that there was not the slightest chance that someone from below, with the unaided eye, could see him.

The place was perfect. For which he knew, heads of state never met in open places. However, they would have to leave the rooms at some point. No matter what the opportunity, he could not and would not waste it.

Mentally noted that he would have to get a plant from the place and try to stay within the security scheme. The local police had already divulged something superficial, but he would like to know if the Federal Police and the Brazilian Intelligence Agency (ABIN) would have some foreign aid. Surely they would have a few agents on the scene. But agents never presented difficulties for him to identify. They all like neat clothes and even the camouflaged ones are easily identifiable, since the language and the modes, even if they try to disguise it, are always superficial and easy for someone more aware to perceive.

He was thirty days antecipated for the meeting, and