Bella Rosa

Destiny

PALMA DE MAJORCA, SPAIN

 

 

 

The hooded figure swung herself over the window ledge, dangling off it for a moment or two dangerously when her foot slipped but grabbed onto the curtain and steadied her balance.

Angry with herself that she messed up after all the years of experience, she crept around the empty bed and cautiously opened the door leading to the corridor.

To be honest, she didn’t have to be so careful. If all, she could just enter through the main entrance if she wanted to and no harm would come to her.

She was wearing a full bullet proof body suit with a criminal’s hood, showing only her piercing green eyes, some locks of black curly hair peeping out of the back, and her small determined mouth. She was black head to toe.

But Maria Rosa Azalea’s thoughts were far from appearance. Her attention was fully focused on the security camera down the long hallway to her left, it yet to see her trespassing figure. From a hidden pocket on the side of her body-suit she drew out a Pistola I, one the most deadly weapons in the world – a small pistol she could easily hide in the palm of her hand. What was special about it, though, was that it made no sound at all as it did its dirty work.

A silent killer.                                                                                                          

That was what she was.

Maria and the pistol had many things in common. Both petite, silent, and innocent; yet could do horrible and spine-chilling things – both killing machines.

She fired – once, twice - and the only sound that marked her actions was of the glass of the camera tinkering down onto the carpet. She stepped over the remains as she continued on her way, not caring about the evidence of her break in. It didn’t matter.

Maria continued down the hotel’s brightly-lit hallway, and found herself at the clearing where the luxurious elevators waited patiently. She entered an empty lift as it arrived with a ding and pressed the button for the seventh floor.

The elevator door opened with a rusty noise as it reached her destination. The seventh floor looked very different from the rest of the Las Palamo’s Luxury Hotel. Instead of chandeliers there were cracked light bulbs and where the carpet once was there was blackened concrete. She walked on, making sure the heels of her boots didn’t make any noise; and as she crept on further, muffled voices came from the only door at the end of the corridor.

As she approached, she reached down and drew another gun from a hidden compartment on the left side of one of her boots. Her mind was blank as she kicked open the door and started to shoot.

The blond-haired German was far from shocked when the meeting was violently interrupted as the door was banged open. His reaction was more proud, proud that his intuition was right and that he had taken measures to protect himself. As he calmly watched his associates slump onto their paperwork, he fingered a gold ring on his left hand. He waited patiently until everyone was dead then he addressed the intruder. “Hello there. Not one for simple greetings, are you?”

“Senor Nico, this is no time to joust,” the woman said through visibly clenched teeth and her eyes flashed with irritation. She cocked the gun in his direction. “Where is it?”

Nicholas Kraus appeared amused. “Where is what, m’dear?”

In less than a second a smoking bullet was stuck in the wall behind him. “Do not play games, Kraus.”

“Oh, no games are being played, Bella Rosa,” he said politely.

Nico was a man of twenty-seven years, a true German through and through. He made no secret of his identity and his actions, but no-one dared to report him. He was one of the most powerful men in Europe, and he had a reputation for black market pursuits. A man of connections, he was able to clear his name for anything. He now said knowingly, “This is about the Alba Azuel Gem, isn’t it?”

The Bella Rosa’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t answer.

He continued. “This meeting that was held here was exactly about that; what a coincidence. I have no idea how you found out-“

“I have my sources,” she said smoothly.

“-but you have definitely wasted your time in coming here. My team has drawn up nothing but a petty note from Ms. Azuel herself to a dear friend of hers, inviting her to some random meat house.”

“Then why have a meeting for nothing?” she asked curiously.

Nico sighed dramatically. “One of the head investigators had this idea stuck in his head that there was some code in the note, and had everyone on his side to pursue this crazy concept – but this is just impossible – here, see for yourself.” He drew out a worn out piece of paper and handed it to her.  

She suspiciously accepted it but kept her guard by still pointing the gun at his head. “Not an inch closer,” she warned. Nico folded his hands behind his back as she read the senior’s fancy scrawl.

Mi Amor Cara,

Conoscere le esigenze alimentari dei Zulu, si dispone di un invito speciale per Angelo’s Meat house, una prenotazione.  Solo Distinti,

 

Alba Azuel

Below it was a scribbled translation:

 

 

Mi Amor Cara,

Knowing the eating needs of Zulu, you have a special invitation to Angelo’s Meathouse, one reservation.

Your s Only,

Alba Azuel

When she was finished reading, she looked up at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

He cleared his throat and met her gaze. “I want you to help.”

“And what makes you think that I will?” she retorted.

Nico raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure the great Bella Rosa wouldn’t pass up such an opportunity. My client is offering couple billion for this Gem; we can easily split the money.”

“How do you know you aren’t being played? How am I supposed to know I am not being cheated out of this deal?”

“I would not be as foolish as to have you as my enemy,” he answered truthfully. He paused, and then added, “And it would be as no good to try to kill me now as I am bulletproof like you, I would assume.”

Maria retracted her gun and turned around. “I will contact you tomorrow evening with my decision,” she announced confidently. “Be in Mipione Square at five fifteen exactly.”

She stalked out of the room, the note still in her hand. He let her go. Only much later since the sound of Maria’s boots faded off did he stir from where he stood – his expression blank, his mind still; contented. He slowly walked to the door, examining on the way his dead associates, finally acknowledging them since their death. As he reached the last man, he carefully pulled back the dead man’s hair to reveal his face.

“Hugh Lancaster,” he muttered. Nico smiled pitifully. The Bella Rosa was going to be in a lot of trouble for the reckless killing of this man.