2..Periods: How Hacking Led to Murder

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

PROLOGUE

Inside the men’s room of a Miami bar, Al Sutter popped the clip into his Glock after he flushed the toilet. He quickly slipped his gun into a holster above his crotch and exited the stall. He checked his image in the mirror to make sure he looked the part of a drug trafficker.

I’m getting too old for this shit, he thought. So I bust up a pipeline. Big deal! For every conspiracy that I break up, there must a dozen others that go on unimpeded.

Sutter was bothered by the fact that he had just read a report that stated in the last ten years the price of cocaine had gone down while the purity of the drug had gone up.

I am fighting a losing battle with the real chance of getting killed. Every year the arrests for drugs went up and the DEA’s efforts barely put a dent in the availability of drugs in the black market. For every scumbag that I put away, it seems like there’s always three more ready to take his place.

This negative reflection on his 15 year career was troubling him. No one in the DEA could talk freely about this looming failure to the press. However, for the first time Sutter could remember, the newly elected Congress and the President were starting to raise questions about the budget that funds the drug war. Each year Sutter had grown more skeptical about the whole approach to waging war. Tonight, his doubts seemed to echo louder than ever before.

Sutter had spent the last three months working under the alias Hugo. His undercover character was a mid level drug dealer from Philadelphia.

After this operation, he would give serious consideration to retiring from the DEA.

Sutter left the bar and waited outside its entrance. Passersbys walked a bit faster as they approached Sutter. His wide jaw, front gold tooth and hawkish nose were striking features that stood out. His piercing steely eyes were constantly checking out his surroundings. He noticed everyone making eye contact as he surveyed the street. This was the fifth time Sutter would be meeting his target, Carlos Benitz. He made it a point to charm his prey, win their trust and then destroy them when it came time for him to testify against them in the court of law.

Sutter spotted Benitz’s Navy Blue four door Oldsmobile as it rounded the corner. Sutter noticed someone was seated next to the driver as he approached the car. He opened the back door and got in. Before Sutter could close the door, the driver, Jose quickly pulled away.

Hey Chief! Sutter greeted, Benitz, look at you, dressed to the nines.

Hugo, what the fuck is wrong with you?

What? What are you talking about?

I told you this is a trendy place. You can’t go in there wearing those rags.

Ay! Don’t worry about it. We can go somewhere else.

Sutter took note of the front seat passenger. How old is this punk, 16? 17?

This is my cousin, Cito. The skinny Mexican stared straight ahead without acknowledging Sutter.

He may look like a kid but he’s probably packing heat, Sutter thought. Then Sutter’s suspicions softened as he examined what he ultimately was doing.

Another generation flushed down the toilet. If this kid doesn’t finger Benitz or cut a deal, he’s gonna be looking at 20 years. His life will over before he’s 21. And what for?

You in school, Cito? Sutter asked.

Nahh. He turned his head toward the backseat, Fuck school.

Sutter could see that Benitz giving dirty looks didn’t want any conversation from his young associate.

Cito shut up! Benitz sneered, Talk to me Hugo. Now what’s this shit about having second thoughts with the location."

A parking lot? I don’t like it. It’s too easy to get boxed in by the cops.

Look, Benitz countered, I have a system that works. Okay? My surveillance hasn’t let me down yet and I’m not gonna change. But why are you bringing this shit up now? You got a better idea?

At this point, Sutter noticed they were heading toward the beach and wondered where they were headed.

Yeah, why not make the transfer on the beach. I could get a boat under the fall of night. It’ll-

No way! Benitz raised his hand, cutting him off, The point has already been set. Anything else you got a problem with?

Ahh, what’s wrong with the beach? You can see the whole-

Look, I’m not going into every detail why I do what I do. We’re not changing the pick up site. Sutter noticed the driver and Cito glanced at each other as they shook their heads and looked away. Sutter watched as they passed a police car going the opposite direction.

Benitz slid over closer to Sutter. You know, I’ll bet you’re very good at what you do.

What the fuck are you talking ‘bout?

Oh I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Benitz folded his arms, Mr. Albert Henry Sutter!

In a split second a million thoughts raced through his mind as his face froze in horror. How did my cover get blown? Was it a spy for the DEA? Was I setup by a colleague? Instantly, he reached for the Glock in his waist band. As soon as he released the safety trigger, Sutter shot himself in the thigh. As he cringed, he was looking down the barrel of a .357 Magnum held by Cito with both hands, who fired three shots in rapid succession. All three shots hit Sutter turning his face into a pulp of flesh.

God damn! You idiot! Benitz screamed, He’s dead already!

Fuck’in G shot himself, he was so surprised. Cito exclaimed.

Yes, that expression on his face when he heard me call out his name was priceless. Benitz smiled then began barking orders. Okay Jose, drive to the overpass and step on it.

Cito had packed a change of clothes for all three of them. When the car reached the overpass, Cito and Benitz lifted Sutter’s body from the car, tied 80lbs of weights around its feet and dropped the body into the canal. Just after they heard the splash, the high beams of a car shone about a half mile from the overpass. They quickly got back in the Oldsmobile and sped away.

They pulled behind a closed gas station. Cito had a key to the restroom. After unlocking the door, they washed off the blood and changed their clothes. Cito put the bloodied clothes in a black plastic trash bag and threw it into the dumpster in back. Benitz and Cito got into a Silver Honda Accord and drove away.

Jose drove out to Highway 1 in the Oldsmobile and headed north. He drove all night to a junkyard outside of Jacksonville and ditched the blood soaked vehicle there among a bunch of rusted cars and parts. Using his cell phone, he called Benitz and left a message that he completed the mission.

* * *

The next morning, Benitz lay awake in his bed in Miami, dreading to make an important call to his Boss, Carmen DiDonna. This hit didn’t exactly go the way Benitz wanted. If the expression on Sutter’s face when his cover was blown was priceless, it could come at a hefty debt to DiDonna.

Yeah DiDonna answered in a gruff voice.

It’s done.

"Nothing leftover?

No. The Olds had to go.

Sounds messy, DiDonna sneered, I don’t like messy

It’s been taken care of. Anything else?

No, I’ll see you. DiDonna hung up the phone, at your funeral.

CHAPTER ONE

At 8:05AM a few employees at Integration Technology Corporation were getting an early jump on the day. Just as the coffee began to drip down in the pot, Philip squeezed his mug under the filter and waited impatiently as the coffee slowly trickled down. Mary, the receptionist, stepped away from the front desk and walked into the galley, catching Philip red-handed.

You, she placed her hands on her hips, ‘just ruined a fresh pot of coffee!"

No, I didn’t

I don’t know why it tastes like brown water when you do that, She huffed in a heavy New York accent, But it does, so don’t do it.

You want to know why? Philip poured some creamers in his coffee mug, because the coffee that first comes out is the strongest and the remainder is weaker. That’s why it tastes like brown water. Mary grew annoyed, folding her arms.

"You mean you knew what you were doing and you went ahead and did it anyway? She nodded her head in frustration.

Mary, look at the bright side. You just got a free lesson in physics.

She dumped the coffee into the sink,

Philip entered his office and checked his E-mail. There were eight new E-mails since he last checked from yesterday. One of them from ITC’s attorney caught his attention. It was titled Tower seeking legal action. Before he opened it, Philip noticed the E-mail was copied to the programmers he worked with on the Tower account.

That one word, Tower, set him off. It was the name of his biggest client, his home away from home. But lately, unresolved problems began to symbolize the Gulf of Mexico oil spill. No matter what Philip did or promised to do, he couldn’t stop the bleeding.

He braced himself as he clicked his mouse to open the dreaded E-mail.

TOWER BANK PROJECT SUSPENDED

Due to delays in the completion of Tower Bank’s software upgrades, our Attorneys have been notified by Tower Bank that they are filing a law suit against ITC. Tower Claims it has lost many of its clients and hundreds of thousands of dollars due to flaws in our accounts receivable system. Any further communication with Tower Bank must go through our legal department.

The technical difficulties of ITC’s account receivable software were an ongoing saga for Philip, yet he was astounded to discover this legal maneuver through an e-mail. He didn’t have to think about the politics behind the move. Management was pushing the panic button. Why wasn’t he notified earlier? It made no sense. He checked the other emails.

On the surface, everything at ITC appeared to be in great shape. Located on Market Place in one of San Francisco’s most luxurious business high-rise, ITC took advantage of its spectacular 40th floor view. They converted two office rooms into a dazzling waiting room. A 100 gallon fish tank with dozen of little red/blue neon tetras swimming in unison was a scene stealer.

A couple of king size couches faced the Golden Gate Bridge at an angle. Light classical music piped in, without the presence of a receptionist sitting around, a client could absorb the breathtaking view and free their mind from business while they waited.

ITC specialized in interfacing large incompatible computer systems together. Their applications were designed to handle such massive systems that only four hundred companies in the world had the hardware specifications to use their software.

ITC’s futuristic image got them a lot of business. They bought full page layouts in computer magazines, had a customized in-house training center and even advertised on network television. However, maintaining thorough support often proved to be an empty promise. Account Managers split their time selling, and then quelling irritated customers, like Tower Bank.

The burden of avoiding a costly lawsuit was laid on the shoulders of account manager, Philip Kurz. Management agreed to supply him with a team of programmers, but he had to restore Tower’s confidence with a long term plan. Upon learning of Tower’s legal action, the national sales manager, Roger Steen, called for a meeting in the conference room. Philip brought every proposal, every software document he had on Tower.

Philip wore a dark suit with a flashy tropical tie and pale blue silk shirt. The senior programmer, Jerry Kramer had on a plain white shirt and solid red tie.

All right, Roger closed the door, Both of you know why you’re here. Tower Bank is giving us an ultimatum; fix their receivables, now! Or they’ll sue our asses in court. He paused to check his notes, We have to diffuse their hostility. Philip leafed through his papers, as Roger spoke. The best solution is start sizing up our losses and offer them a package compromise. Steen stopped pacing and waited for some feedback.

Roger, what qualifies you to make that decision? Philip spoke up breaking the silence, Tower’s legal maneuver has been brewing for weeks. Face the facts. We sold them a system that wasn’t ready. We gave them a huge discount, but all they remember is ITC can’t support their own products. We’ve invested 20 million dollars developing these systems and let’s face reality. We still can’t support them.

Kurz, you don’t have to explain to me what the problem is, okay? Roger loosened his tie, I talked to Terry Romains over at Tower. He peered through his glass, And it’s your job to handle- Look, he started roaming around the table, they have a very plausible case. He scanned through his notes, to find a quote to back up his statement. Roger took a deep breath. Tower’s hired Lebowitz, Ross and Krantz. Those guys can smell money a mile away or they wouldn’t be taking the case. Fact is gentlemen…we’re up shit’s creek. He added, If you don’t settle this right away, we could be tied up in litigation for months, years. I don’t even want to think what that would cost.

Roger, don’t think about the cost. Philip looked up at his boss, Don’t think about this law firm. He searched through his documents, We need to mend some bridges. My God! Is it any wonder they chose to sue us.

Kurz, Roger cringed, as looked at his sales executive, I know you’d love to come out the hero. He patted Philip on the back, But don’t bank on Solvo to give you a blank check to straighten everything out. He’s not. Solvo was ITC’s bottom-line President.

We’re better off going to court, Jerry griped, clearing his throat, ‘than spending another minute at Tower. Now I realize that the customer is always right and all that shit, but it’s about time we hold them accountable. He counted off his hand, First, Tower let viruses get into our system, and then they gave us errors in the data format and didn’t specify the conversion, properly. Those mistakes by them cost me three months! he gritted his teeth, ‘We ought to be suing them.

Hold it, Jerry. Philip challenged him, Your programmers never mentioned this problem to me. Instead; they got creative and wrote their own codes. He took a swig of coffee, Now we have to rely on their memory to fix it. If I had some documentation of this creativity, I wouldn’t have my hands tied. Jerry knew better than to spar against Philip’s rhetoric. We’ve got to do some back tracking.

Oh no! Jerry shook his head, you couldn’t pay me enough to set foot in that place, again. Let me be more specific about these loony tunes. He put on his glasses, There are so many travesties, and I made up a list. He pointed to Roger, Besides those screw ups, they made it impossible for me to the complete the installation, he coughed, They logged on to the network when-

Stop escalating! Philip cut in, Let’s maintain a cheerful posture. I love them, too.

Kurz, why don’t you go over to Tower and make up a little wish list for them. Philip nodded, I’m sorry Jerry, this is a priority. Roger added.

Roge, Jerry pleaded, I’m installing two purchasing systems. They have got to be up and running, this month. His eyes opened wide, hoping for a break. You want me to drop that?

Refresh my memory, Roger bent his brow in curiosity, Who are they?

Pacific Union and Gallo. Jerry knew Roger could care less about over-booking his schedule, but he knew these installations would be ITC’s bread and butter for this quarter. He removed his glasses and stared at Roger waiting for his decision.

Sorry Jerry, we have to prioritize, Roger tilted his head, faking compassion as though he really was sorry. Jerry sighed, looking down and dejected, Just fix the fucking thing! Christ, you’re the senior programmer after all. Philip sat back quietly, and then raised his hand. Roger knew what he wanted.

My commission? Philip’s eyes glared as he opened his mouth slightly. How’s that gonna work?

Roger grinned at Philip, You’re the one who changed Tower’s contract. It’s written in their contract the payments begin once the installation is complete. So you really fucked yourself on that one.

Philip did remember changing the standard contract for Tower. It was just another perk to speed up negotiations. Now he cut himself out of his own advance. He closed his eyes in disgust. Tower had beaten Philip at his own game.

However, Roger leaned back, crossing his legs, if you can get Tower to drop their lawsuit in the next two weeks. I’ll give you 12% on every system contract for the rest of the year. Philip was doing the math in his head, determining his cut. That could potentially amount to the 250K range, Just get them off our backs.

That’s great...and impossible. Philip walked away waiting for Roger to change his offer, I can’t get them to agree to anything until the system’s fixed. What does Roger expect? A signed statement from Tower agreeing not to sue us? Philip had made many verbal contracts regarding his commissions, but this one was a loser’s proposition. Roger, just let me work on them alone.

Philip left the conference room.

The receptionist thinking the meeting was over forwarded a call to the conference room. Roger put his lecture to Jerry on hold and picked up the phone. Jerry noticed his boss listening intently, like some important news was coming across the line. Roger hung up, then propelled both his fists to the ceiling, Kurz, get in here! He yelled across the hall. ‘That was GSA. They just requested a beta test! He clapped his hands together, for a three mainframe interface. He pounded his fist against his palm. Kurz drop Tower for now and get out to GSA, you’re the one most experienced with archives."

Drop Tower? Philip was taken aback, Wait a minute.

No waiting. Roger jostled, We’ve got to prioritize. We’ve got to pursue them aggressively. They called us requesting a beta test. This is great.

So this means we’re finished with Tower? Jerry asked.

Roger gave him an annoying look.

That’s a dumb question. You got us into this mess. Roger said, I’ll be damned if I let you on – site again. Jerry, you’re a brilliant programmer. However with Tower you’ve been an accident waiting to happen. With a slight shake of his head, Roger confirmed, the project to salvage the Tower account would continue.

I’m going to ask Tower’s programmers to make up their wish list. Then get back with them next week. Roger actually believed he could step into Philip’s place and conduct negotiations. Normally, Roger’s title did most of the work. The ‘National Account Manager’ title opened doors. Without Philip’s knowledge of Tower’s technical hardware architecture, Roger was paving the way to further disaster.

Roger’s gonna turn Tower into quick sand and Jerry’s gonna sink in it, Philip thought

Poor Jerry, he fights so hard, to do less and ends up having to do twice as much. He printed out his notes on GSA. He gathered the Tower documentation and filed it away. He replaced them with GSA sales reports

What luck! Philip thought, I go from working on cleaning up an oil spill to roping in an account with the largest government network in America. I get out of this pickle. Fly to New York. This is exactly what I need now. Philip remembered sending GSA some literature on their systems months ago. And now they get back to me. What perfect timing.

* * *

Three days later, at 4:04PM some dark clouds swirled around a glistening sun. The clouds closest to the sun were pink, then gradually changed to a deep blue to a purple then finally black. With such a vivid kaleidoscope, it was a mystery what color would emerge, minute by minute. Despite these clouds, the sun still shone into Philip’s office. He listened to Roger bragging on the phone to the President of ITC, about GSA’s Beta test request.

In the hallway, Philip filled a cup of water and swallowed two aspirins. He couldn’t wait to get on the plane. He wondered how ITC stayed afloat. He took in a quick second gulp of water. With Roger handling the rudder, ITC should have gone under by now. Yet, each quarter he always manages to show a profit.

When Philip was hired seven years ago, he noticed how disorganized Roger’s desk was along with everyone else’s. Once he moved from a cubicle to his own office, the company decorations were replaced by his own personal items. Two computer generated art paintings. His desk simply organized, not a single paper on it. Beside his PC, flat screen monitor and keyboard remained a rotary disk file, a desk calendar and an electric pencil sharpener. Behind his swivel chair were two rows of shelves of software manuals, stacked like encyclopedias.

Mary put the flight information on Philip’s desk. He changed the greeting on his voice mail. If it weren’t for this trip, I could be typing my resume, now. He listened to his messages; three calls. All of them from Tower, complaining about the smallest detail.

Roger must know there’s no salvation. We should be getting our own lawyers. Who’s he kidding? I gotta get out of here.

Leaning back in his chair, he lifted his legs up on his desk and closed his eyes, letting the aspirins take effect. Roger’s voice was non-stop. It took him fifteen minutes to describe a three minute phone call with GSA, while never mentioning his plan to handle Tower.

Philip added the tax on to his proposal for the GSA system. Checking his figures, it came out to a ball park of three million with plenty of fat left to trim.

Let Roger sort out the nightmare at Tower. The real money’s at GSA. He smiled at his proposal. Three different operating systems and three mainframe using real time back-ups, archiving thousands of files every hour would reqire a lot of work. Roger liked to go along with Philip when there was a big account at stake. Philip dropped his pen on his desk. Oh God, I gotta get out of here before he changes his mind and decides to go with me.

The phone rang. Philip sat up to answer it.

Ahello…Hello? his slight German accent came through. Total silence, then someone hung up on the other end.

* * *

On the other end of the line, three thousand miles away, Stanley Setzer sat in a small construction office in Times Square. A fluorescent light was buzzing. He was sweating, nearly panting as Carmen DiDonna stood directly in front of him.

DiDonna wore a black pinstripe with a red silk tie and matching handkerchief in his front pocket. His lavish attire contrasted with his two bodyguards. One was huge, over 300 pounds, over 6’4, the other stocky, but muscular. The bigger one was wearing a leather jacket. The other wore a navy blue wind breaker. Both had on black New York Yankee baseball caps with red lettering.

This is it, DiDonna picked up the phone and as he dialed Philip’s number again, Setz watched the gold rings on DiDonna’s finger glisten, he’s in his office. Now I’m not going to give you any rules, you just give me one fucking result, he pointed his finger in front of Setz’s face, that you will pick him up at JKF and deliver him to us. He handed Setz the phone.

Right. Setz’s hands stopped shaking as he took in a deep breath.

And remember, he leaned forward with a stark glare as he pointed his finger again; Don’t even think! …about hanging up until that’s clear to your friend.

The phone slipped out of Setz’s hand. His palms were sweating; He wiped them on his pants. When he picked up the phone it was ringing. The smaller bodyguard broke into a smile, and then quickly resumed his tough guy stare. Philip was about to call GSA, when his phone rang again. This time he answered it on the first ring.

Philip Kurz.

Philip?...Hi, this is Setz.

Setz! he perked up, how are ya?

Great, I just tried to call but you couldn’t hear me. DiDonna held up his wrist watch right under Setz’s face, But anyway what’s been up with you? It’s been awhile.

Yeah, Philip gazed out his window at a cargo ship, making its way out of the Bay, I can’t talk long. I’m leaving for New York…tomorrow.

Really? Setz faked being surprised in a convincing manner. Delivering his first line, he had two audiences on the same stage. Two roles to play, one purpose.

I’d like to get together for a drink, Using his mouse, Philip’s laser printer quietly churned out some pages on GSA. But I can’t promise anything. I’ll be really busy.

What? How long are you gonna be here? Setz quickly realized he asked the wrong question, Why don’t I meet ya at the airport.

That’s nice of you. But the company always rents me a car. This comment came as an untimely reminder to Setz that Philip liked to be independent driving his own car and staying at whatever hotel. Setz’s heart sunk s he watched DiDonna stare into his soul.

If you rent your car out of the airport, his voice quavered, it’s gonna take forever to get out of there. Setz felt he was seconds away from the whole deal sipping out of his hands.

Setz, I can’t talk-

Cancel it! Setz shouted out. He looked at the three heavy set rings on the towering bodyguard’s hand, picturing his gigantic fist smashing his face.

Vhat?

Cancel it! Setz repeated. Then he broke down in desperation, Philip there’s something really important we have to talk about.

Can we talk about it when I get to New York? It occurred to Philip that Setz was in some kind of trouble. What’s going on here?

Nothing’s wrong! He strained his voice, I just can’t go into details, now. DiDonna handed Setz a yellow pad of paper and a pen. Setz knew exactly what to do next.

Okay, Philip lowered his voice, nothings wrong with you, nothings wrong with me. Setz was getting angry, getting no where. I’m glad you called-

Philip! Setz interrupted, then paused a second, knowing this was his last chance. What airline and airport are you taking? He continued asking questions slowly and deliberately. And what is your flight number? When are you arriving?

Philip obliged Setz’s probing so he could get off the phone and get on with his GSA business. Setz quickly scribbled down the answers. DiDonna slowly threw Setz a thumbs up. He almost smiled.

I’ve got to go, Setz. Bye.

I’ll meet you at the flight gate and- DiDonna quickly ran his finger across his throat, signaling him to end the conversation. I’ve got to go too." Setz hung up the phone, and tipped back in his reclining chair. Breathing heavily with relief, Setz reflected what just happened. Man that was close. Setz closed his eyes; Philip nearly gave me a heart attack. Twice!

You done good and under 5 minutes. DiDonna gave Setz a firm handshake, congratulating him. Sorry for breathing down your neck. At one point, it seems to me that you were grasping for straws. Setz begrudgingly nodded in agreement.

What’ll I do about his rented car? Setz asked, smacking himself on his forehead, I know Philip, it would matter if I told him I was picking him up in a Lambragini. He does things his own way.

Leave Philip to me. DiDonna picked up the paper with the flight times and put it inside his coat pocket. I’ll call you.

Setz had no idea what DiDonna would do next. But it was clear, he wasn’t confident Setz had any influence on Philip.

DiDonna pulled out a pink envelope and held it front of Setz. Then he pulled it back.

Don’t get too cocky, my friend. DiDonna warned, Your friend Philip sounds so cautious. Is this the same Philip that you said was so daring? Makes all this fuss over a fucking car ride. Well, he better not be so difficult with us, DiDonna cracked his knuckles, You understand what I’m saying.

Yeah, but like I said, it’s been over a year since we last talked.

Oh when I first approach you last week, you were best friends and now-

Yeah, best friends in High School. That was over twenty years ago.

The body guards looked at each other and laughed.

Shut up! DiDonna growled, Wait outside."

The two lumbering bodyguards followed their boss’s order.

Mr. DiDonna, you don’t have to-

Shut up! DIDonna pointed his finger in Setz face, Now you listen to me and you listen fucking good. You don’t change the game on me when it suits you. What you say once had better be the truth. If getting Philip to cooperate is going to be more difficult than you had originally indicated than you better speak up…now!

It’s hard for me to say Setz quavered, in his chair, I never did anything like this before.

Well, you sure are whistling a different tune now. Aren’t you? DiDonna stated, All those fucking assurances of how willing your friend would go along with the plan now seem to be a lot of bullshit.

I can do this for you, Mr. DiDonna.

You know what. Don’t speak. Just deliver. I have heard enough of your excuses to last your lifetime. DiDonna opened the door and left the room.

The ramifications scared Setz. This meeting could become my massacre, I can feel it. What if Philip outright refuses to go? It had cost DiDonna $40k to set-up this meeting, so I better deliver the goods.

When DiDonna first proposed this plan, Setz was sucked in by the quick money. Now he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He hadn’t eaten dinner, but butterflies inside his stomach killed his appetite.

For a week, Setz took a peek into the glamorous, glutenous lifestyle of the mob. Once he got a taste of DiDonna’s wallet, he was hooked. At the same time, he knew that this much money was too good to be true. Whether he was successful in this scheme with DiDonna depended entirely upon Philip’s cooperation. Philip is gonna leave JFK with me if I have to tie him to the roof of my car.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

A crowded DC-10 descended from its high altitude as it passed over New Jersey. The passengers awoke from their nap as the pilot instructed everyone to put their seat belts on. Peering out his window seat, Philip watched the mid-town skyline swell in his view. The sky was pitch black with the city’s hi-voltage skyline burning bright. The plane swooped down to its left. Philip could see tiny headlights of traffic, backed up along the Westside highway.

Two weeks! Roger’s offer kept popping back in his mind: to fix the Tower catastrophe, try two years. Then he just sends me out here. Financially, I’m strapped. I love the hypocrisy of the hassle. Getting an advance from this cheap skate billion dollar company? Roger sends me off to start another fire, just as another one is raging out of control.

Another sore spot; Philip couldn’t stop dwelling on the way management always treated Roger with kid gloves. His talent was closing deals his salesmen initiated. As far as managing his sales force, his talent was stepping on their toes. Yet, Roger’s quota was usually on target. He had the President’s ear and he almost always got his way.

Ladies and Gentleman the flight attendant announced, we will now be landing at La Guardia Airport. Check your overhead racks for your belongings and thank you for choosing to fly with us.

GSA wouldn’t commit to a beta test, Philip speculated, unless they thoroughly researched us. He pictured himself proposing his idea, standing in front of Solvo’s desk, while the President took phone calls and shuffled his papers. Enough, no matter what happens with GSA; I have to start looking for another job. I keep threatening myself, but I never do it. I might as well just die from ulcers. I’ve given seven years of my life helping to make that penny pincher Solvo richer.

He closed his eyes, picturing himself flying back to San Francisco, rising above the asphalt and steel with a hefty contract signed by GSA in his pocket. With GSA under my wing, they’ll give me a hero welcome; then I’ll give them my resignation. If they give me a hard time over my commission and I know they will, Tower won’t be the only one taking them to court.

* * *

At age 14, moving from a rural quaint town outside of Berlin, Germany to Brooklyn, NY was a rough transition for Philip; he spoke little English and got bullied a lot his first two years. Being a good student worked against gaining recognition from his peers. This cultural difference confused him. He joined the wrestling team and that gave him more self-confidence. But he was still pegged a loser by most of his classmates.

Philip’s periodic violent behavior put him in touch with the school’s Psychologist. She concluded that Philip’s adjusting to a new culture was the root of his anger. Once he graduated from High School, his hostility would begin to dissipate.

Even after 20 years of living in America, he still held on to his accent. Philip liked the way he could capture people’s curiosity with it. Initially, he thought New Yorker’s viewed him as effeminate when they heard him speak. Later, he learned to harness his accent to cultivate sales clients and pick up women.

Guys like Philip, who travel on business making a good salary don’t have much difficulty attracting women. Yet, coming off his second burned relationship in two years, Philip had a tendency to insulate himself, socially.

Both women had similar qualities; independent thinkers, politically astute, left leaning with passionate hearts. These parallels bothered Philip. I’d hate to think there’s a women anything remotely like the last two sickos. It’s scary how Judy became a replica of Barbara. In the beginning, she seemed so shy. He spent so much time analyzing his partner’s flaws; it was hard for him to acknowledge his own problems.

Philip’s psychotherapist had an analytical nature, herself. But she only raised more questions about the turbulence in Philip’s personal relationships. After each session with his therapist, the baggage of his ex-girlfriends’ got heavier.

After leaving the Marines, Philip maintained his physique doing calisthenics and lifting weights. His loose cut suits hid his muscular torso. His large, dark eyes and mustache had an impish appeal. With some hair spray and a brush, he could change his appearance, from boyish bangs to sophisticated slicker.

In High School, Setz and Philip stumbled across each other in their English class. With absolutely nothing in common, Setz’s acceptance of Philip bonded their friendship. Philip always got a laugh out of Setz’s sense of humor and Setz appreciated that he had someone who thought he was funny. After graduation they kept in touch, even though they went in different directions.

After serving four years in the Marines, Philip used his GI bill to gain a BS in computer science at Berkeley, CA. After gaining some computer sales experience, he was hired by ITC.

During basic training in the Army, Setz was deemed unsuitable for military life by his commanding officer. The term was applied, kindly. He surprised his fellow soldiers, proving that his rebellious nature couldn’t be broken by any Army tactics. He refused to get out of bed, even after he was sprayed with a fire hose. The more he was pushed to do something, the harder he resisted. Setz wasn’t afraid to cry, scream there was no limit to his fiery tactics. Setz’s platoon held a party after he was dishonorably discharged.

Once he was released by the Army, the first thing Setz did was to use his uncle’s contacts to join one of the New York City’s biggest construction unions. In the meantime, he spent two years doing various jobs in the restaurant business. He hated waiting on customers, but he loved being around good food. His love for food often got him fired. When an opening in union finally came up, he was ready to settle in on this opportunity.

New York had some bitter memories for Philip, but Setz had given him many good ones. Philip’s plane pulled up to the gate. He laughed at the turmoil of life; let it slide off him like water, knowing he had no control of his destiny. Twenty years later, his last link to New York, Setz is still alive.

As Philip exited the plane, he was annoyed not to see Setz there. He glanced around the waiting room by the gate as he kept walking. He reached for his cell phone. Then saw someone approaching him out of the corner of his eye. It was Setzer.

Philip! he kept walking, Jesus…Philip! Setz yelled, I get out of work early, fight the traffic and you walk right by me. What did ya forget your glasses?

Philip turned around and faced an energetic Setz wearing a thin black leather jacket with a sport magazine rolled up inside its pocket. His hairline had receded an inch since Philip had last seen him two years ago. Standing next to Philip, he was dwarfed. When Setz smiled a gap loomed between his front teeth.

Wow, Setz, Philip hugged him, feeling the 20 pounds he gained. It was noticeable since Setz was 5’6 in height. Man! You look like a mini Dom Deluise. A complete metamorphosis!

And you know what you look like with that skinny tie? Setz pointed is finger in Philip’s chest, A complete moron."

"I’m glad to see that