The Masked Assassin
by Marko Lampas
E-book $10.50

The Masked Assassin

by Marko Lampas

Book One

He sat on a dilapidated overstuffed chair in a single room in a brownstone on the Upper Westside of New York City. He was oblivious to when the bottle of beer made contact with his mouth and when it rested on the armchair. He grieved the catastrophe that had befallen him, taking away his job, his family, his home, and his dreams.

He pressed the mute on the remote to silence the silly morning interviews airing on Channel 7, and allowed his mind to travel back to times of contentment. He had been the head of a huge multinational corporation with more than a thousand employees under his command and he was blessed with a loving family. Now all those wonderful memories were just that – memories – lingering in his mind to torment him. The unexpected blow blackened his life to change him from a considerate employer, a loving husband, and a father to a feared assassin.

His reminiscences of his son's and daughter’s laughter, along with their constant childish quarrels on school days, curved the corners of his mouth into a smile.

He could almost hear his thirteen-year-old son Timothy calling out his usual grievances. Ma! Ma!! Jane is not coming out of the bathroom; she’s been there for more than an hour. I’ll never get ready for school. Tell her to come out!

Before his wife could climb the stairs, Jane, their fifteen-year-old daughter, opened the door. “Here, creep, it’s all yours.” She saw her mother at the foot of the stairs, expressing her anger, ready to come up. “I’m out, Ma, I'm out. He’s such a crybaby. I can’t stand him. I was in the bathroom not more than twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, sure, twenty minutes," Timothy, snapped back. “You’ve been in there more than an hour, admiring yourself as if you were some kind of a model or an actress. This is not your private bathroom, okay?”

“Please, the two of you stop this quarrelling! I can’t stand it!” his wife cried out, and returned to the dining room to find him attentively reading the newspaper and having his morning coffee. She shook her head in a complaining gesture, surprised to see her husband trying to hide a grin behind the newspaper.

“Darling, are you laughing? Please tell me, tell me, when will those two grow up and stop this bickering?”

He lowered The New York Times and gave her a fleeting look ... then he said in jest, “Well, do you remember what I suggested when we built the house? Adding a third bathroom upstairs? Now we’ll have to put up with these quarrels on school days. But, not to worry, darling, they’ll grow up and before you know it, they’ll be on their way out to have their own lives. Let us enjoy them while they’re here. Noise, quarrels, and laughter – they’re all part of growing up, and parents have to put up with it.”

“I can’t stand it!” She was still angry. “This goes on every morning. I admit it, you were right about the third bathroom, but when we built the house we had only Jane and we were not planning for another, not with both of us working. Not till you were offered the leadership of the plant and the divisions.”

He stood up and came around the dining room table to take her into his arms. “Listen, my love, I had the same infuriating times with my older sister when we were teenagers. She’d tease me and laugh when I would bang at the bathroom door for her to get out. Now I remember those moments and I'm sad — sad that she’s gone, and I can’t joke with her about those fond memories.”

The Howard Miller grandfather clock chimed seven times from the living room. “I must go, darling. Cheer up, in no time you’ll tell me how much you miss them.” He put his jacket on and from the bottom of the stairs he called to the kids, “Have a good day in school you two — monsters.”

Jane and Timothy rushed to the top of the stairs, leaned over the rail, and said in unison, “See you, Dad, we love you.”

He took his wife into his embrace once more and kissed her. The plant was no more than a fifteen to twenty-minute drive from their home, but he had to be there before his assistants and the first employees arrived at 7:30.

Dorothy whispered, “I suppose you’re right, darling. We girls like to take our time in the bathroom, putting on our makeup and grooming ourselves. I know those two up there really love each other. Just as your sister Kate loved you. It’s just that sometimes they infuriate me.”

“I understand, darling, and totally agree with you. They can be a pain, but I wouldn’t change their presence for a moment.”

His wife noticed his melancholy expression for the loss of his only sister when he paused in front of her picture. He kissed his fingers and placed them on his sister’s lips.

“Darling, I'm so sorry you lost Kate.” She put her arms around him and continued in an almost sobbing tone of voice, “She was so young. God! She was only thirty-five years old and just about to get married. How she suffered those last couple of months from that terrible disease.”

He touched her beautiful face and gazed deeply into her now moist eyes. “How would you like to go out for dinner tonight? I'm in the mood for a nice steak, Kobe, and pinot noir. We’ll go to Blue Honu in Huntington.”

“Oh! Yes, yes, you’re so sweet; I didn’t feel like cooking tonight.” She wiped her tears. “I can make something for the kids, but I'm sure they’ll order pizza. I’d like a nice steak myself, and I'd love to have a night out, just the two of us,” she happily responded and threw her arms around him again, murmuring in his ear, “I adore you, you handsome thing, you make me so happy.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” He rushed to the door leading into the two-car garage. Before he backed out of the garage, she opened the front door to wave good-bye. Their Colonial house was the prettiest in the neighborhood. Besides presenting the most attractive exterior with a red brick wall surrounding their front garden, it had a unique design. The majestic entry featured a Lone Star mahogany front door with sidelights and a rectangular transom. The decorative columns and tray ceiling in the dining room added depth. The master bedroom also had a tray ceiling and featured the ultimate master bath with his and her sinks and closets. In the kitchen, the pantry provided extra storage space, and the snack bar was open to the nook. The great living room contained a fireplace and two sets of French doors that opened to the rear porch and the swimming pool.

Dorothy climbed the curved stairs to hurry those two pains so she could drive them to school and then finish her morning chores.

* * *

He rolled his eyes the moment reality reappeared, and then stared blankly at the gloomy room that overpowered his being with the blackness of despair and the actuality that his beloved home and family were now gone. “What happened?" he murmured. "What in the hell happened to my life? How did I end up in this fucking dreadful room? Where is my wife, where are my kids? Why, God? Why did you do this? What have I done to disserve this?”

At that moment he became aware of the beer bottle’s neck touching his cheek, exactly where his wife had kissed him that morning. That thought painted another labored smile on his face.

His daughter Jane, his boy Timothy, and his beautiful wife Dorothy – they were all out of his life now; only their memories lingered. I miss them - Oh, God! How I miss them! Help me, God help me survive this madness.

He recalled the loving moments with his wife, her sensual milk-white body, her long brown hair and lean figure. Her firm round breasts that he’d caressed and suckled ... her joyful laughter and love’s murmurs at her orgasms when she’d dig her nails into his back leaving marks of passion. And how she’d kiss his back afterward and gently apply some kind of ointment.

She’d cry. “My God! Thomas, you’re turning me into a wild beast, my love, look, look what I did to your back. What’s wrong with me?”

He’d take her beautiful face into his hands and whisper, “Nothing is wrong with you, darling. You’re perfection, a passionate lover and I love you just the way you are – don’t ever change.”

He never ceased to admire her beautiful face, her smile, and he was grateful she loved him. How they adored each other, how content they were in their lovely home with friendly neighbors in the nice suburb of West Babylon, Long Island.

* * *

Then he recalled that dreadful morning, the morning they had to evacuate their mansion, and say good-bye to their neighbors. The women hugged them with wet eyes, and the men shook hands and embraced each other as they said good-bye with gloomy expressions. He had employed many of them at the plant, and now, now they were all out of work like him.

After many hugs and kisses to his wife and kids, all with eyes brimmed with tears, he said, “Don’t cry, my loves. Yes, this is a sad time in our lives, but have courage; we’ll see each other soon. I’ll find another job and everything will be all right again, you’ll see. Remember how much I love you.” They touched hands from inside the van's windows, sobbing. She gave him one last kiss, they tasted each other’s salty tears, and then slowly she pulled away. The scene was extremely painful.

“We love you, Dad, please bring us back soon.”

“I will, I will, don’t you worry, this is temporary, take care of your mother.”

His wife Dorothy and the kids headed to her parents' home in Boston, and he, after placing all of his clothes and a small TV in his rented car, watched two men drive away with their two repossessed Lincoln Town Cars. Then he watched two other men and a woman lock the house. Neither he nor the neighbors felt ashamed, because those who worked at the plant knew the plant was productive. What they felt was ghastly betrayal and anger toward a heartless little man, the founder and CEO, James Patton.

He waved good-bye to his friends and headed to New York City to look for a similar job; he hoped to bring his family back from Boston as soon as possible.

The plant and the other four divisions were as successful as they were because of his pleasant attitude toward the employees and consumers. He was the chief of all operations, which were owned by the largest electrical corporation in the USA and probably the world. The conglomerate wholesaled household appliances, refrigerators, computers, washing machines, microwave ovens, television sets, and many other big-ticket items to most of the retail stores on Long Island, New York, as well as Connecticut and other nearby states.

He was earning a sufficient salary to support his family comfortably. Nothing exorbitant, but enough for a new four-bedroom mansion priced at more than a million and a half, with a $700,000 mortgage pending. The shutdown of the plant decreased the value of his house dramatically, and he could not find a buyer. The county taxes skyrocketed because no major industry could take up the slack, and all those men and women were out of work.

His family enjoyed an upper-middle-class lifestyle with all the comforts one could want. They lived in a lovely suburb with decent schools for his children, and for the sake of the children, his wife decided to stay home to be a housewife. She gave up her job as an export-import assistant with a firm that specialized in agricultural products. This prevented them from building any substantial savings; they never assumed a disaster of this magnitude would ever occur. They lived an extremely comfortable life and the notion of saving for a rainy day never entered their minds.

Their kids got involved in many activities outside their school. Jane showed interest in becoming a classical pianist. She enrolled – at considerable expense – at the Manhattan School of Music. She was taking private lessons with two teachers, a pianist and a voice teacher, when she discovered that she had a potential vocal talent as well. Their son Timothy showed the same interest in the piano, and it was a blessing not to have to buy another instrument along with the Steinway baby grand. He was taking private lessons with a teacher in Huntington, not far from their home. These private lessons were costly, along with all the uniforms and shoes for soccer and other sports activities in and out of the school curriculum. But his monthly income covered all these expenses, along with their frequent visits to New York City for an occasional Broadway show and dinner at a pricey restaurant.

He never assumed he would be unemployed ... not with the plant and the divisions making substantial net profits. Since he was promoted to run all operations sixteen years ago, sales and profits had escalated sharply. He’d received frequent praise from the chief executives in the main office and the vice-chairman, Mr. Jackson Bloomberg. But he never shared in the astronomical bonuses they gave to themselves. He never complained about this either, because greed didn't own him. His life was content and free from any financial worry. And the fact that he was not a high-echelon executive on the board never bothered him.

However, fair profits and increased sales were not enough for CEO James Patton and his exclusive board of directors; they wanted more. And they would get more, much more, in a country where the salaries were considerably lower and no benefits of any kind accrued to the workers.

A rumor had surfaced that the plant and the divisions might be shut down and moved to Europe, perhaps Hungary, or to the Far East. But that was so far-fetched that neither he nor any of the employees took it seriously.

* * *

At the last meeting, after some of his managers had finished their usual business debates, he had stood up to answer employees' questions about the rumor. It was the last meeting held in one of their warehouse divisions. There were more than 700 employees murmuring with apprehension.

“Listen to me, please. Don’t concern yourselves about this rumor. Put it out of your minds. It is nothing but a rumor. It will never happen. We’re making incredible profits for the company; they have no reason to close the plant and the divisions. You are all honest, hard-working men and women, and no one could ask for more. We’re a family that cares for one another. It would be illogical for them to shut down a huge industry like this one. We supply two to three states, along with Long Island and New York with our appliances. Plus we support the whole town of Babylon, for heaven's sake; the county would never allow it. Yes, Mr. Patton's last meeting with the county representatives was not pleasant, and Mr. Patton threatened to close us down, but it’s his way to get tax cuts and other benefits from the county.

"Go on with your lives and remove that concern from your minds. I can’t possibly believe Mr. Patton would be that cruel to take away the livelihood of more than a thousand workers.

“And if by the remotest chance it comes to that, we’ll unite as we are now and offer to buy the plant and the divisions from Mr. Patton. We’ll offer him a fair price – but coming back to my question, why should Mr. Patton want to sell or close the plant when they just gave themselves huge bonuses? They’re making millions from us.”

He had to bring calmness to their fear, but deep inside him he also had a strange feeling that something as far-fetched as this might happen. He knew the stubbornness of this little egomaniac Patton. Nevertheless, he must keep them calm in order to prevent a panic, and lose some valuable employees.

* * *

The whispers continued amongst the employees for weeks after that meeting, more so from the elderly than the young ones, and especially when the county committee publicly renounced Patton’s requests. They all knew at times like these that no one is safe, no matter how large the company, and how profitable it is.

Well, not long afterward, the far-fetched rumor became a reality. In four months’ time, the first division began to transport its heavy equipment to Europe and 245 men and women were laid off.

The following month the other three divisions, one by one, began to close, creating the panic and outcry he told them not to worry about. Now even the county sounded its alarm. With so many employees out of work and the loss of desperately needed taxes, the county would be in serious trouble.

At first they thought CEO James Patton was downsizing and then, a month later, his plant also closed its doors, sending more than three hundred employees, plus management, into the unemployment line. In all, 1,152 people from the county were now out of work.

All the heavy equipment got loaded into huge trucks and shipped to Europe, leaving the plant area like a ghost town. Nothing helped, not the outcries of the county, the politicians, the employees – all their complaints were in vain. Mr. Patton had made up his mind and that was that.

* * *

Three and a half months after the loss of his job, disaster hit. He couldn't meet all the essential expenses – the mortgage, the payments for the two Lincoln Town Cars – even the lesson fees for his kids had to be discontinued along with all the other miscellanies expenses for things they were accustomed to. He desperately tried to find a job, but there was none that paid even close to what he had been earning. The debts began to pile up and there was no way out, but to lose everything.

The bank finally called back his loan and repossessed the house and their two cars, forcing his wife and children to move to her parents’ for the time being. Things would never be the same.

This gloomy reality had overcome him; a thunderbolt of anguish and despair fell upon him and his family. How quickly one can lose everything, and all because of one man’s greed.

* * *

In spite of his many attempts to find work, he just couldn’t come up with a job that paid the equivalent of his previous salary. Now in his mid fifties, with not much experience other than running the electronics plant, many doors stayed closed to him. Call it poor luck, destiny, or whatever, no one would hire him in spite of his skills to run a big business. “We need someone who can grow with the company” was the usual excuse.

As a last resort, he studied the New York City street map. He located all the airports and places of interest, such as the main hotels, restaurants, theaters, concert halls, department stores, and all other information he needed for his hack license.

He landed a job as a taxi driver with a big yellow cab company in Long Island City, in Queens. He’d drive the night shift, and whenever there was an available day shift from a driver who didn’t show up, he would continue a double shift, twelve to sixteen hours, six days a week, and many times seven days to make enough to support his wife and children. The little savings they had he gave to his wife so the kids could continue their studies in Boston and not to be a burden to her family other than staying rent-free.

* * *

James Patton cleverly made himself unavailable by traveling out of the country to avoid the outcry of the populace. He knew the intense impact this would have and how high it would boost his ego. The more suffering you impose on the middle class and the poor, the higher your popularity with the elite class. It was all about instilling fear in those who would mess with the rich.

His room was as disheartening as his life, with an ancient stinking carpet, a closet-size kitchen, old peeling paint on the walls and ceiling, and a single bed next to a small table with two chairs. The foul-smelling bathroom was outside in the hall, and he had to share it with three other tenants.

The Masked Assassin
by Marko Lampas
E-book $10.50