Lazar's Intrigue (The Jack Lazar Series)

LAZAR’S

INTRIGUE

A Jack Lazar
Novel

Kevin

Sterling

Lazar’s
Intrigue

ISBN
978-0-9892195-0-1

Copyright
© 2013 Kevin Sterling

All
Rights Reserved

Edited
by Mary Moran

Cover
Design by Kevin Streufert

The following
material contains explicit sexual content meant for a mature audience and may
be inappropriate or offensive to some readers. Discretion is advised.

This
book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination
and used fictitiously.

With the
exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in
whole or in part through any means without written permission from the author.

www.jacklazar.com

ONE

Jack
Lazar jolted out of his deep meditation as the high pitch of a woman’s
desperate breathing cut through the humid air and pierced his ears. He swept
his head around to see her darting across the sand behind him, and a flash of
lightning revealed her picturesque physique. He felt unsure he truly caught her
face in that instant, but the image he now possessed of her was strikingly
beautiful. Her eerie silhouette rushed down the dimly lit beach and slanted
toward the water as if she was frantically running for her life.

A
sinking feeling seized Jack’s stomach as he recognized the danger that had
descended upon the secluded spot he found in Laguna Niguel. And as if that
weren’t enough, the approaching storm further escalated his take on the
situation, the powerful bolts of lightning skating across the sky and the deep
rumble of thunder carrying into the sounds of the surf as if they were one.

The
idea was simply to stop here, find a peaceful place to escape, and contemplate
his future after the disturbing events of the day. But the universe clearly had
no intention of letting him off that easily. It seemed he was destined to
endure even more chaos before he could finally call it a day.

The
sudden appearance of the woman’s two assailants confirmed Jack’s suspicions,
and the lightning flashed again to expose the men as they passed by, their
drawn guns and strong determination confirming the malice of their intentions. Jack
was thankful the men hadn’t seen him, and he surmised it was only because their
attention was focused on the target ahead.

For
a moment Jack considered heading after them, but without a weapon of his own it
was a sure prescription for death. He had no choice but to witness the assault
of this beautiful woman and hope to God he could help her afterwards. It was a dreadful
feeling, and he could sense the ensuing rage swelling within.

Dear
God
,
please
don't let them harm her.

The
storm’s intensity grew stronger, as if echoing the calamity below, and it
picked up speed as it moved to strike land, cascades of lightning now
illuminating the shoreline so sufficient to grant the men an easy opportunity
to strike. The larger of the two raised his revolver and fired several shots
toward his prey as her feet entered the water, the blasts muffled by the
thunderous offerings from above and the sound of angry waves crashing against
the sturdy shore.

Without
making a sound, the woman fell into the surf, first to her knees and then
completely into the water. A strong wave arrived to wash her body back onto the
beach, and it was obvious a clear hit had been achieved.

The
assailants approached her slowly and stood over her motionless body for a few
moments before the smaller of the two men started yelling and pushing on the
other’s chest. Jack couldn’t make out his words, but it appeared as if shooting
the woman had been a mistake.

The
larger man just laughed and slapped his partner fraternally on the back. He
motioned his hand as if they should leave, and they began running back toward
the road.

Reacting
quickly, Jack dove into the surf and hoped the darkness would help camouflage
his position. He held his head just above the water to watch the men jog by,
the saltwater washing over his face and stinging his eyes. And somehow the
lightning took a break from its erratic bursts as the men passed.

Jack
sent a silent message of appreciation to the heavens for such gracious
assistance, and he began to breathe more deeply as he emerged from the water and
watched the assailants’ shadowy figures jog in the distance toward the road. Within
moments he could hear the faint sound of car doors slamming and an engine’s
roar as their vehicle sped away. He was certain they had gone.

The
woman’s body remained motionless, and Jack feared she was dead. She became
gradually more visible to him through the darkness as he drew closer, the
erratic bursts of lightning adding an unnerving effect to the image of her
lifeless body, as if Hitchcock himself had choreographed the scene. The ominous
thought of seeing or touching a dead human being sent chills up his spine as he
knelt down to examine her.

The
woman lay on her side, and the surf washed against her face. She was just as beautiful
and exotic as Jack had envisioned her to be—sable hair, smooth olive skin, and
a body adorned with the most sensual curves he had ever seen.

An
immense bloodstain tainted the front of the white silk blouse she wore, and the
blood continued to flow from her body into the water. Jack pressed his fingers
against the artery on her neck.

Thank
God she’s still alive
.

The
mysterious woman slowly opened her eyes. “Are they gone?”

“Yes,”
Jack replied as if her state of living had been no surprise, and getting her
medical care had instantly become the new priority. He ripped open the front of
her blouse without hesitation to assess the damage.

The
bullet had passed completely through her, as blood flowed simultaneously from
both her back and abdomen. Jack removed his shirt and tied it tightly around
her waist in an attempt to stop the bleeding before lifting her into his arms and
resting her head between his neck and shoulder.

The
lightning flashed in wild bursts as he began to carry her toward the car, the thunder
so powerful that it shook the ground beneath him. And the rain finally plunged
down from the sky, so strong that Jack could barely see ahead. The huge
raindrops stung as they crashed against his bare arms and shoulders, and he
bowed his head to protect his eyes, only to find himself staring at the woman’s
exotic face. He watched the water pour from his head onto her full lips and down
her neck to her chest. The sheer bra was soaking wet now, and it revealed the
entirety of her round breasts and delicate, chocolate-brown nipples to him, so
he couldn’t help but feel aroused. In light of her condition, the excitement
overtaking his senses disturbed him, but he tried simply to concentrate on moving
forward.

Jack
watched the woman open her eyes again, and she seemed to study his
determination, her body relaxing as if the comfort of his intentions soothed
her. She forced a smile, clearly struggling over the pain.

“Thank
you,” she said.

Jack
gave her a consolatory smile as the strain of carrying her began to take its
toll, and he made every attempt to hide his lack of breath.

“How
about if I make you dinner?” Her faint words were oddly charming.

Jack
laughed awkwardly. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

He
was encouraged by her optimism and amazed at her ability to ignore the pain and
hide what must be great fear for her life.

He
struggled to pull the keys from his pocket as they reached the sleek Aston
Martin Zagato, its wet silver exterior glistening under the light of a lone
streetlamp. He managed to open the door while still holding her and carefully
laid her drenched body in the passenger seat. He realized that he had only
minutes before he would lose her, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to lean
over and give her a gentle kiss—a gesture she returned instinctively.

It
was not often that Jack flirted with such devastating circumstances, and he
sensed his life had just reached a turning point, as if his calling from the beach
to find a new direction had somehow been answered. He was unsure whether the
magnitude of this change was his desire, but he was nonetheless enslaved by it,
excited by it. He would clutch it with both hands and breathe it fully.

The
journey through the rain felt eternal, and other vehicles seemed to
intentionally block their path as Jack impatiently maneuvered around them. He
looked over about halfway through the drive to discover the woman had fallen
unconscious, but another quick check of her neck revealed a pulse.

Weak,
but still there.

He
called 9-1-1 from his cell phone and asked the dispatch attendant to inform the
hospital about the critical condition of the patient who was soon to arrive. Nothing
would be left to chance, he bargained. Her living was essential. It seemed
inconceivable that she would die after everything he had done for her.

Jack
raced through the hospital’s grounds to the emergency entrance and immediately
jumped from the car to help transfer the woman’s limp body to a waiting gurney
and medical team. He squeezed her hand as they moved her through the outer
doors, and he could swear he felt a faint response from her. He stopped a few
feet from the emergency entrance and watched the medical team wheel her away as
they focused their attention on her, leaving Jack behind with his worry and
bewilderment.

Again,
silence and loneliness. More time to think. The present had become more
complicated, the future almost inconceivable. Yet for this mysterious woman who
had been suddenly thrust into his life, all Jack could do was wait and pray.

TWO

The
police interview was far less involved than Jack had expected. An innocent
woman had been shot, and seeing that he was the only person at the hospital
with any connection to the matter, he was surprised to be devoid of suspicion
and accused of nothing. The apparently seasoned police officer and his young
partner showed little interest in Jack’s account of the evening’s events, and
his attempts to offer speculation were wholly ignored.

After
the short exchange with Jack, the two officers spent less than a minute
identifying the patient and made a quick exit to their squad car.

“Excuse
me,” Jack shouted in pursuit. “What the hell is going on here? And who is that
woman?”

“We
appreciate everything you’ve done, Mr. Lazar,” the older officer said, “but at
this point the woman is none of your business, so I suggest you go home now.” He
closed the driver’s door and started the engine.

“Wait
a minute, goddamnit!” Jack yelled as he rapped on the car’s window. “What makes
you so sure I’m not a threat to her safety?”

The
two officers looked toward each other and laughed.

“Now
listen to me, young man,” the officer said after rolling down his window a
couple of inches. “I would love to make you feel better by taking you to the
station and grilling you for the next few hours, but it’s the end of our shift,
and we’ve had about all the entertainment we can handle for one evening. So
please, just go home!”

“Well,
at least tell me if she’s okay!”

Jack
stood motionless as the car pulled away, and he wondered why he even bothered
to challenge the police. Something important was obviously happening with this
mysterious woman—something Jack’s civilian status prevented him from knowing. And
the challenge of having to circumvent all the red tape made the prospect of seeing
her so much more alluring.

Perhaps
it was a time for creative strategy, which Jack’s background in mergers and
acquisitions called for on a regular basis. And now that he had been forced out
of his job by one of his firm’s senior partners, he suddenly found himself with
plenty of discretionary time to pursue other activities. Why not this?

After
all, the wealth he had amassed through countless transactions from Los Angeles
to New York was nothing to sneeze at. It would comfortably carry him through
life, much less through any sort of adventure this woman could offer.

He
walked back into the hospital building, determined to be taken seriously in
spite of his bizarre outfit, consisting of damp and wrinkled Armani pants
paired with the top half of a set of surgeon’s greens. He had sacrificed his
shirt in the process of saving a woman who he was now forbidden to see, and he
was subsequently forced to accept the only substitute the emergency room staff
could offer. He couldn’t imagine feeling more ridiculous.

A
spry young girl sat in attendance at the reception desk, and her spiked blonde
hair befitted a mischievous attitude. She cast a flirtatious smile as Jack
approached her, and he assumed the absence of patients in the emergency room
yielded her the opportunity to fool around a little.

“Hello
again!” she beamed. “Love the outfit.”

“Yes,
it’s all the rage in Paris right now.”

She
smiled. “Well, the girl who does the evening shift told me you looked better
without the top. Sorry I missed it.”

“Well
then, I’m tempted to take this off.”

“I’m
in complete support of that idea.” She winked at him. “After all, you’ll have
to return the shirt at some point. This is a hospital, so you must be aware
that nothing is free here.”

Jack
laughed out loud, and he instantly realized how much he needed the release.

He
leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Look, what’s going on with the woman
I brought in here? Any word?”

The
girl scowled at him as if disappointed in his lack of interest, but it was
clear she knew she had a job to do. “The woman is coming along just fine. In
fact, I think they brought her out of intensive care about half an hour ago and
took her upstairs.”

“Where?
What room?”

She
hesitated for a moment, but then apparently decided she would rather give him
the information than completely spoil their interchange. “Room seven
forty-five. But I don’t think they’ll let you see her. There’s an officer
posted at the door.”

“An
officer? Really? What’s the deal with her anyway?”

The
girl shrugged.

“Well,
no matter what, I still have to see her.”

“Good
luck, I guess,” she said as Jack determinedly walked away.

“Thanks!”
He didn’t look back, but waved his hand in the air as a gesture of gratitude.

“Come
back and see me if things don’t work out with her!” she yelled as he rounded
the corner.

Jack
took a deep breath as he exited the elevator on the seventh floor and
approached the nurses’ station in an attempt to handle the situation in a
civilized manner, although the prospect seemed unlikely.

“Excuse
me.” He was interrupting the nurse’s aide from what appeared to be a personal
phone call.

“Yes,
Mr. Lazar.” She was a large, abrasive woman with a head of hair that probably
hadn’t been washed in a week. She covered the speaking end of the phone with
her hand and sneered to demonstrate her inconvenience.

Jack
wondered how the woman already knew his name, but then he realized how much
sense it made. These people weren’t going to take any chances.

These
people…these people. Who are they
?

“I
would like to see the woman I brought in a few hours ago. The people at the
emergency room said she was recently moved up here from intensive care. Room
seven forty-five, I believe.”

“I’m
sorry, sir. That's just not possible.”

“Why
not?”

“The
police have ordered that no one without proper identification is allowed to
enter her room.”

“For
God’s sake, I saved the woman’s life! What do you think I’m going to do to her?”

“I
don’t make the rules, sir. So there’s no reason for you to speak to me like
that.”

Jack
stared at her pensively. “Sorry, you’re right. The situation is just…frustrating.
I’m curious though. What exactly do you mean by proper identification?”

“I’m
sorry, Mr. Lazar. I've been ordered not to discuss this with you any further. If
you’ll excuse me…” She swiveled the chair around and turned her back to him as
she continued with her phone conversation.

Jack
pitched around for a few moments before joining what appeared to be a large
family in the seventh-floor waiting room. Two adults were quietly reading
magazines, but all four children in the place were bouncing around as if someone
had been force-feeding them Red Bull. What’s more, the kids acted as if they had
no supervision at all, which led Jack to believe that the two adults were
either not the parents or desperately pretended as much.

Given
the unlikelihood one could hear a howitzer blast over the noise, Jack didn’t
blame them, but this was a hospital after all, and people were trying to sleep.
Then again, every single patient was probably being awakened at ninety–second
intervals to be given medications or have their blood pressure taken, so
perhaps it didn’t matter.

Jack
turned his attention back to the subject at hand and wondered what the nurse’s
aide meant when she said “proper identification”. What sort of person would the
officer admit inside? The police? The FBI perhaps? Certainly a doctor would be
allowed, but convincing the guard he was the woman’s physician would be
difficult. At least not unless he looked the part.

Jack
rose to his feet and wandered down the hall toward the opposite end of the
floor from the nurses’ station, trying to look casual as he carefully scanned
each room for a doctor’s lab coat or surgeon’s bottoms to complete his chic
ensemble. He eventually discovered a small, dark laundry facility near the end
of the hall and ducked inside, only to emerge moments later dressed in a white
lab coat. He didn’t have an ID badge or a stethoscope to drape around his neck,
but he found a metal clipboard with laundry requisition forms, which he planned
to use as a distraction from his incomplete accoutrements. He walked back to
the nurses’ station with the clipboard blocking his face as if he were examining
critical patient information, and he did his best to portray the body language
of a doctor.

The
nurse’s aide appeared to be deeply engrossed in her conversation now that the
subject had escalated to whether pecan pie was best served with ice cream or
Cool Whip, and the matter sounded like serious business. Jack was transparent
to her, and he easily cruised around the desk as if he had business to do so.

Personally,
Jack felt Cool Whip was better applied in the bedroom than the kitchen, but
that was a subject to be pondered at another time.

Once
inside the station, he discovered several doctors and nurses engaged in various
tasks. One of the physicians was busy examining X-rays while another flirted
with two of the nurses as he bragged about a recent miraculous performance in
surgery. It was comforting to see that everyone was wrapped up in their own
world, and none of them even took a second look at him.

Jack
searched for the woman’s medical chart while maintaining his façade. It was
important to put an end to the mystery of her name before he proceeded to the
room. He noticed that the patient files were arranged by room number on a wall,
and he scanned his finger across to Room 745 before extracting the chart from
its slot. Someone had manually written a name in pen on the index label as
opposed to the others, which had been preprinted.

Sarina
Anapoulos—Room 745
.

Jack
moved swiftly down the hallway, feeling pretty comfortable with his doctor
persona now, and he made a quick evaluation of the uniformed officer at
Sarina’s door as he approached. Luckily, the man’s attention was focused on a
redheaded nurse who was organizing medications on a cart in the hallway,
probably preparing to dispense them around the floor in conformity with the
hospital’s sleep deprivation policy. So Jack moved confidently forward, the clipboard
blocking his chest this time, and he gave the officer a token greeting as he eased
into the room.

Jack
shut his eyes as he closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, his
heart racing, the reality of his accomplishment finally hitting him. Was he out
of his mind? Shouldn’t he have grown out of this kind of childish behavior by
now? And probably most important, wasn’t he supposed to have better sense than
to disobey the police? But Jack knew he had to push those thoughts out of his
mind. After all, he had successfully made it into her room, so why deliberate
about it now? He took a deep breath and opened his eyes in anticipation of
seeing the woman he had rescued just hours ago.

Sarina
rested peacefully in the hospital bed. The machines encircling her and the
noises they emitted were foreign to Jack except for the steady beeps patterning
her heart. He approached her slowly and plopped himself on the doctor’s stool
that sat beside the bed, leaning forward and bracing a hand against the side
guard as he studied her—the fullness of her lips, the way her curvaceous form
was so revealed by the thin sheet covering her body.

Damn.
What was it about this girl? People in hospital beds were supposed to look like
hell, but Sarina was gorgeous, and just the sight of her ignited an enigmatic
explosion in Jack’s crotch that he had never exactly felt before. And now he
was forming a chubby in a hospital room, of all places, as he became
preoccupied with how easy it would be to run his hands over Sarina’s breasts
while she was sleeping, feel her nipples between his fingers, lift up that
hospital gown and…

What
the hell is wrong with me?

As
if the unruly chatter in Jack’s brain had awakened her, Sarina slowly opened
her eyes, and Jack presumed it was for the first time since her surgery.

She
smiled. “Hi there.”

“Hi.”

“Are
you…my doctor?”

“Um,
well, no.” He wasn’t sure what to say.

“But
you’re dressed as one. I don’t understand.”

“This
was the only way I could manage to get in here. Apparently you have some
powerful friends who didn’t want me to see you.”

“So
you’re not with the agency either?”

“Agency?”

“Never
mind.” She reached out and covered his hand while apparently suppressing the
resulting pain. “Thank you for saving my life. I thought for sure I was dead on
that beach.”

“So
did I.”

Inquisitiveness
shown from her eyes. “What were you doing there?”

“It
was just a secluded spot for me to sit and think. I wasn’t expecting the kind
of excitement you and your friends brought along. I just thank God I was there.”