After my encounter with Jennifer, I got into the Mercedes and drove to my Beverly Hills home. I was still shocked at what my counterpart was doing behind his wife's back. Traffic on the Santa Monica Freeway was heavy as usual. It took a good forty minutes to reach Beverly Hills.
As soon as I entered the house, I turned on the television to find out what is going on in the world. I saw some news reports, such as Governor John van de Kamp signing some education bill, and an anouncement for a new hotel/casino in the Anaheim Hills.
"Roxanne," I said to my duplicate's wife, "Listen, I have this invitation to go to this charity event at the Chandler."
"Then go yourself," she said.
"Well, you should be with me."
"You just take me out when you want to show me to your peers. When was the last time the two of us had a romantic dinner together? Or walked along the beach in Santa Monica? I'm not going with you. Until you treat me as a wife, I won't appear as your wife!"
"Fine then," I said.
And so I went alone.
I reached the Chandler Hotel and Casino at around 8:30 P.M. I gave the keys to some valet driver so he can park the Mercedes. I recognized him, noting that some of his duplicates work at the Chandler.
I walked inside the lobby of the Chandler. It looked pretty much the same as its counterparts in other universes. I did notice the sounds of slot machines coming from a huge room adjacent to the lobby.
I went to banquet room where the party will be held.
The room was huge, withg cloth-covered tables all around. There was a dance floor in the back, and some stereo equipment in the corner where dance music would be played. There were lots of people in there already, all dressed in fine clothes. I guessed they were the top influential business and political leaders in Los Angeles and Orange Counties.
"Mr. Mallory," someone said to me. I turned, and saw a middle-aged man with blond hair.
"Uh, hi," I said.
"Where is your lovely wife?"
"She wasn't feeling well," I said, telling the truth.
I looked upon the people, al chatting with each other. I wondered what Native Colin was doing in the Cayman Islands. I wondered whom else I would meet.
I watched the man who had greeted me earlier. I listened to what he said as he greeted this old man in a tuxedo.
"My name is Galen van Dahl," he said. "A pleasure to meet you."
I approached the two men. I might as well start with this Mr. van Dahl. I had a feeling I hard that name before, perhaps it was a few slides ago.
"Hello, my name is Colin Mallory," I said, extending my hand to the old guy.
"And I am Richard Riordan," he replied. "You know, mayor of Los Angeles. You must have seen my face on TV."
"I believe in proper introductions," I said.
I sat at the table, eating the dinner being offered. I sat with a bunch of people I did not know, but who may very well know the local Colin Mallory. I told them about myself, about being born in San Francisco and moving to El Segundo. I omitted some details, such as the fact that I was adopted by my parents' duplicates. They told me about their lives, and their work in business. The dinner was nice, for the main course was none other than prime rib.
I went to the restroom, where I did my business at the urinal. I then went to wash my hands at the sink. I could not help but notice the luxury of the restroom.
"Mallory," said Van Dahl as he entered the restroom. "I almost forgot to congratulate you for those tips."
"Well, you're welcome," I said.
"I mean, you made me an extra million dollars. I don't know how your boys get that inside info, but I must thank them, and thank you for hiring them."
"Well, Mr. van Dahl, that's business."
I later went to the casino where I decided to gamble some of my duplicate's money. I put money into a slot machine and started pulling the handle of the one-armed bandit, as they are popularly known.
"Hello there," someone said. I turned, and saw a Negro fellow in an Army suit. "You were a guest at the charity ball, right?"
"Yeah," I said. "My name is Colin Mallory."
"I'm Colonel Christopher Morton, commander of the Homeland Defense Forces in this county," he said.
"So, how long have you been in the Army?" I asked.
"Since 1976. I was born in Chicago in 1957, I attended Infantry Officer Basic School in Georgia, and I later was stationed in the DMZ in Korea. I was stationed in Los Angeles just two years ago."
I told him a short bio about my life, omitting the fact that I traveled between universes. I saw another man in an Army suit approach Colonel Morton. He looked familiar.
"This is Captain Shays," said Morton.
"Hi," I said, extending my hand. "I'm Colin Mallory."
"Hi," said Shays. "I was in charge of the Army forces in the Hollenbeck sector. It used to be the most violent sector, but within a few dats, all of our enemies were destroyed and peace was restored."
"I wonder why the Army was needed to deal with this problem," I said. "What about the police?"
"The police?" asked Morton. "Well, Colin, we wouldn't have soldiers on the streets if the police did their jobs. The police think that black neighborhoods are game preserves where predators can poick off their prey at their leisure. I remember this incident that happened in Parma, Ohio back in 1986. A mob surrounded the house of this black woman who lived there. She called the police, but they did not come. She called a friend of hers, who scared away the crowd with a shotgun. The police arrived to arrest the friend. During the trial, the defense played tapes of the 911 operators laughing at the woman's predicament. And that is why the Army is here. The Army is here to do the job the police refuse to do."
I got up and headed to the banquet room.
I spent the rest of the night speaking with other high profile people. There was more music and more dancing.
Eventually, the party was over. I said goodbye to the mayor and the other guests.
I walked towards the valet parking.
"Colin Mallory," someone said. I looked and saw two people in suits.
"Yes?" I asked. I remembered they were in the charity ball.
"FBI," he said, flashing a badge. "You are under arrest for insider trading, fraud, and conspiracy to commit fraud. You have thr right to remain silent. you have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Aunthing you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
So I am arrested again.
I was put into a Ford Crown Victoria and taken to the Los Angeles Federal Jail. I was fingerprint and my picture was taken.
I decided to call Roxanne.
"You're in jail?" she asked.
"The FBI arrested me. I am due for a bail hearing tomorrow morning."
She then hung up on me.
I had an appointment in federal court tomorrow, so I decided to sleep in my cell. It did not take too long for me to fall asleep.
In my dream, I was flying through the wormhole, and at the same time I was not moving at all. This old man abruptly appeared.
"Hello, Colin Mallory," he said. "I've been watching you for two months."
"Who are you?" I asked. "Are you God?"
"No, just his humble servant."
"Can you reunite me with my friends?"
"Your friends have not abandoned you. God has not abandoned you."
"Can He reunite me with my friends?"
" You have a long way to go before you meet your frends. In time, you shall choose your own path, but the Lord shall guide you for now."
I woke up the next morning. I ate breakfast in the cafeteria. The breakfast was Fruit Loops, scrambled eggs, and Minute Maid orange juice. There were a few other people in there. Most were awaiting trial for federakl crimes, and the rest were U.S. marshals who kept order in this place.
"Colin Mallory," a voice said over the speaker, "please come to the visiting room."
I was escorted by a U.S. marshal to a visitation room. Inside, I saw the FBI agents who arrested me, and two other men.
"This is U.S. Attorney Johnnie Cochran," said the FBI agents who arrested me, "and Assistant U.S. Attorney Angus Rickman. Let's have a seat."
So I sat down.
"Mr. Mallory," said Cochran, "we've been investigating you and your company for a year. We know that you organized an effort to pry secrets from companies and then engage in stock transactions. You are facing a very long time in prison. But we are willing to make a deal. You did the crime, you might not have to do the time."
"What would I have to do?" I asked.
"We believe that your office was doing money-laundering for a gang boss."
"And who would that be?" I asked.
"You've done business with him before. In fact, one of your employees is married to his daughter His name is Galen van Dahl."
"Van Dahl?" I asked. Then I remembered. He spoke to me in the men's room at the Chandler, during that charity ball.
"Van Dahl is the head of all the tobacco gangs in southern California," said Angus Rickman. "He has alliances with many people in local, state, and federal government. We know his true occupation, but we haven't found anyone willing to talk or any paper trail-until now."
"We want you to testify against Galen van Dahl," said Cochran. "We'll drop all charges against you. We'll even find a safehouse for you."
"Listen," I said. "I really don't know much about Van Dahl."
"We saw you speaking with Van Dahl at that charity banquet last night," said the FBI agent. He grabbed my shirt. "If you don't squeal, I'll make you squeal."
"That's enough, Redfield!" Cochran barked. "You want to go to federal prison? You agree to testify before the grand jury, and you will walk. There is no way you can get off in a federal trial. The paper trail means you're going to jail. The verdict will be in, you'll be as guilty as sin."
"No," I said. "I don't know anything about this."
"Fine then," said Cochran. "Remember this. You've been arrested; van Dahl knows you're a liability. He's gonna come after you. And there won't be any marshals to protect you."
Later that morning, I went before a federal judge for a presentment hearing. The judge was a Negro lady whose nameplate identified her as Judge Sylvius
"We are charging him with insider trading, fraud, and conspiracy to commit fraud," said Cochran.
"Bail is set at eight hundred thousand dollars," said Judge Sylvius.
After paying my bail to the court clerk, I was released from the federal jail. I decided to head back to the Prudential offices in downtown Los Angeles. Within minutes after entering the lobby, I was inside the office suites. I wanted to find out more about my duplicate.
I also found some FBI agents gathering evidence in the office. They were putting ahnging file folders into white cardboard boxes.
"We're serving a search warrant," said Agent Redfield, who had arrested me last night. I saw people dowloading from the computers in the office by using laptop computers. "Don't interfere or I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice."
"I want a copy of the evidence for my criminal defense," I said. "I know that is the procedure."
"You can work with your computers after we're done."
I went into my private office. There was alaptop attached to my office computer, and the desk drawers were already open.
"Excuse me," said the FBI agent overseeing the download.
"I just wanted to make sure you didn't break anything," I said.
"We'll let you have the computer after we're done," said the FBI agent. There was a file folder on top of my desk. The FBI apparently did not take it in as evidence.
the folder did not contain data baout the investments made by this office. It contained personal data.
I saw a photo of a naked woman in there. And she was not Jennifer.
There was also a personal love letter written to the local Colin from a woman named Isabel.It was a sexually explicit love letter. Fromm it, I learned that Isabel lived in the Cayman Islands. So I learned that my duplicate was cheating on Jennifer as well.
It was clear he was involved in fraud as well as adultery. He must have been questioned by the authorities about some of his illegal deals. He quickly packed up his bags, when the Army called him and told him about me. He decided to replace himself with me, so I would bear the consequences of his crimes.
From what I can tell about the federal justice system, i would be gone even before the arraignment, so I did not have to worry about spending a decade in a federal prison. But the FBI was not the only person my duplicate was running from. There was this business with Mr. van Dahl, and if the FBI's statements about him were accurate, van Dahl would come gunning for me.
In the meantime, this world's version of Colin Mallory was in the Cayman Islands, doing who knows what.
I went back into the main office, and the FBI was just hanging there, waiting for the downloads to finish. I just remebered that Michael, who worked for my duplicate, had mentioned Mr. van Dahl.
I walked into his office, and I saw a picture of a blond-haired woman.
That must be his wife, and Galen van Dahl's daughter.
"Agent Redfield," I asked, "is this his daughter."
the FBI agent looked. "Yes, that's her. Deana van Dahl. Her husband Michael works for you."
"I figured that out."
"So Mallory, are you willing to cut a deal with the U.S. Attorney?"
"I want to discuss this with my lawyer."
"Go ahead. Just remember that we won't put you into the witness protection program until you become a witness."
I had to take a taxi to get back to the Chandler and get the Mercedes. The cab driver was some old Russian man whose name is Pavel Kurlienko. After a few minutes driving down Wilshire Boulevard, I paid him and then went off to get the car. Once I was inside the Mercedes, I drove back to the house in Beverly Hills. I reached the house by lunchtime.
I went inside, and I saw Roxanne watching television.
"Hi," I said.
She did not speak.
"Well, I was arrested by the FBI and was charged with fraud. they asked me to rat out on some gangster in exchange for getting off free. How was your day?"
"You were cheating on me, so it's not hard to believe that you would cheat investors."
"Roxanne, I am innocent of these accusation. God Himself knows that."
Danger.
I had a feeling that I was in danger. But of course I was in danger. If that gangster van Dahl ever found out that I had been arrested, he might send someone to kill me.
But I had a feeling the danger was imminent. It was like a premonition.
I immediately ran downstairs. "Roxanne," I said, "we have to get out of here."
"I'm not going with you," she said. "As soon as the divorce court opens, I'll file for divorce!"
I decided to pull her away. "Listen,"I said. "This gangster named van Dahl wants to kill me to kep me from testifying against him."
"And what makes youn think they're here now?" she demandingly asked.
"I have this feeling," I said. "come, follow me."
I led Roxanne out into the backyard, to avoid any hit men who might be sitting in a car in front of the street. I saw the Mercedes and another car, an Infiniti, parked side by side on the driveway.
suddenly, two cars suddenly stopped right in front tof the driveway, blocking it. I saw two people come out and open fire upon us.
"They're shooting at us!" Roxanne shouted.
We both headed back inside the house,locking the door and taking cover among the furniture as we made our way to the second floor hallway. I could see at least three cars. We were surrounded.
I went into the bedroom to dail 911. But there was no dialtone; the hit men must have cut the phone lines.
It looked like there was no way out excepot through another dimension, and theseguys weould get into the house long before my slide out.
As soon as I entered the house, I turned on the television to find out what is going on in the world. I saw some news reports, such as Governor John van de Kamp signing some education bill, and an anouncement for a new hotel/casino in the Anaheim Hills.
"Roxanne," I said to my duplicate's wife, "Listen, I have this invitation to go to this charity event at the Chandler."
"Then go yourself," she said.
"Well, you should be with me."
"You just take me out when you want to show me to your peers. When was the last time the two of us had a romantic dinner together? Or walked along the beach in Santa Monica? I'm not going with you. Until you treat me as a wife, I won't appear as your wife!"
"Fine then," I said.
And so I went alone.
I reached the Chandler Hotel and Casino at around 8:30 P.M. I gave the keys to some valet driver so he can park the Mercedes. I recognized him, noting that some of his duplicates work at the Chandler.
I walked inside the lobby of the Chandler. It looked pretty much the same as its counterparts in other universes. I did notice the sounds of slot machines coming from a huge room adjacent to the lobby.
I went to banquet room where the party will be held.
The room was huge, withg cloth-covered tables all around. There was a dance floor in the back, and some stereo equipment in the corner where dance music would be played. There were lots of people in there already, all dressed in fine clothes. I guessed they were the top influential business and political leaders in Los Angeles and Orange Counties.
"Mr. Mallory," someone said to me. I turned, and saw a middle-aged man with blond hair.
"Uh, hi," I said.
"Where is your lovely wife?"
"She wasn't feeling well," I said, telling the truth.
I looked upon the people, al chatting with each other. I wondered what Native Colin was doing in the Cayman Islands. I wondered whom else I would meet.
I watched the man who had greeted me earlier. I listened to what he said as he greeted this old man in a tuxedo.
"My name is Galen van Dahl," he said. "A pleasure to meet you."
I approached the two men. I might as well start with this Mr. van Dahl. I had a feeling I hard that name before, perhaps it was a few slides ago.
"Hello, my name is Colin Mallory," I said, extending my hand to the old guy.
"And I am Richard Riordan," he replied. "You know, mayor of Los Angeles. You must have seen my face on TV."
"I believe in proper introductions," I said.
I sat at the table, eating the dinner being offered. I sat with a bunch of people I did not know, but who may very well know the local Colin Mallory. I told them about myself, about being born in San Francisco and moving to El Segundo. I omitted some details, such as the fact that I was adopted by my parents' duplicates. They told me about their lives, and their work in business. The dinner was nice, for the main course was none other than prime rib.
I went to the restroom, where I did my business at the urinal. I then went to wash my hands at the sink. I could not help but notice the luxury of the restroom.
"Mallory," said Van Dahl as he entered the restroom. "I almost forgot to congratulate you for those tips."
"Well, you're welcome," I said.
"I mean, you made me an extra million dollars. I don't know how your boys get that inside info, but I must thank them, and thank you for hiring them."
"Well, Mr. van Dahl, that's business."
I later went to the casino where I decided to gamble some of my duplicate's money. I put money into a slot machine and started pulling the handle of the one-armed bandit, as they are popularly known.
"Hello there," someone said. I turned, and saw a Negro fellow in an Army suit. "You were a guest at the charity ball, right?"
"Yeah," I said. "My name is Colin Mallory."
"I'm Colonel Christopher Morton, commander of the Homeland Defense Forces in this county," he said.
"So, how long have you been in the Army?" I asked.
"Since 1976. I was born in Chicago in 1957, I attended Infantry Officer Basic School in Georgia, and I later was stationed in the DMZ in Korea. I was stationed in Los Angeles just two years ago."
I told him a short bio about my life, omitting the fact that I traveled between universes. I saw another man in an Army suit approach Colonel Morton. He looked familiar.
"This is Captain Shays," said Morton.
"Hi," I said, extending my hand. "I'm Colin Mallory."
"Hi," said Shays. "I was in charge of the Army forces in the Hollenbeck sector. It used to be the most violent sector, but within a few dats, all of our enemies were destroyed and peace was restored."
"I wonder why the Army was needed to deal with this problem," I said. "What about the police?"
"The police?" asked Morton. "Well, Colin, we wouldn't have soldiers on the streets if the police did their jobs. The police think that black neighborhoods are game preserves where predators can poick off their prey at their leisure. I remember this incident that happened in Parma, Ohio back in 1986. A mob surrounded the house of this black woman who lived there. She called the police, but they did not come. She called a friend of hers, who scared away the crowd with a shotgun. The police arrived to arrest the friend. During the trial, the defense played tapes of the 911 operators laughing at the woman's predicament. And that is why the Army is here. The Army is here to do the job the police refuse to do."
I got up and headed to the banquet room.
I spent the rest of the night speaking with other high profile people. There was more music and more dancing.
Eventually, the party was over. I said goodbye to the mayor and the other guests.
I walked towards the valet parking.
"Colin Mallory," someone said. I looked and saw two people in suits.
"Yes?" I asked. I remembered they were in the charity ball.
"FBI," he said, flashing a badge. "You are under arrest for insider trading, fraud, and conspiracy to commit fraud. You have thr right to remain silent. you have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Aunthing you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
So I am arrested again.
I was put into a Ford Crown Victoria and taken to the Los Angeles Federal Jail. I was fingerprint and my picture was taken.
I decided to call Roxanne.
"You're in jail?" she asked.
"The FBI arrested me. I am due for a bail hearing tomorrow morning."
She then hung up on me.
I had an appointment in federal court tomorrow, so I decided to sleep in my cell. It did not take too long for me to fall asleep.
In my dream, I was flying through the wormhole, and at the same time I was not moving at all. This old man abruptly appeared.
"Hello, Colin Mallory," he said. "I've been watching you for two months."
"Who are you?" I asked. "Are you God?"
"No, just his humble servant."
"Can you reunite me with my friends?"
"Your friends have not abandoned you. God has not abandoned you."
"Can He reunite me with my friends?"
" You have a long way to go before you meet your frends. In time, you shall choose your own path, but the Lord shall guide you for now."
I woke up the next morning. I ate breakfast in the cafeteria. The breakfast was Fruit Loops, scrambled eggs, and Minute Maid orange juice. There were a few other people in there. Most were awaiting trial for federakl crimes, and the rest were U.S. marshals who kept order in this place.
"Colin Mallory," a voice said over the speaker, "please come to the visiting room."
I was escorted by a U.S. marshal to a visitation room. Inside, I saw the FBI agents who arrested me, and two other men.
"This is U.S. Attorney Johnnie Cochran," said the FBI agents who arrested me, "and Assistant U.S. Attorney Angus Rickman. Let's have a seat."
So I sat down.
"Mr. Mallory," said Cochran, "we've been investigating you and your company for a year. We know that you organized an effort to pry secrets from companies and then engage in stock transactions. You are facing a very long time in prison. But we are willing to make a deal. You did the crime, you might not have to do the time."
"What would I have to do?" I asked.
"We believe that your office was doing money-laundering for a gang boss."
"And who would that be?" I asked.
"You've done business with him before. In fact, one of your employees is married to his daughter His name is Galen van Dahl."
"Van Dahl?" I asked. Then I remembered. He spoke to me in the men's room at the Chandler, during that charity ball.
"Van Dahl is the head of all the tobacco gangs in southern California," said Angus Rickman. "He has alliances with many people in local, state, and federal government. We know his true occupation, but we haven't found anyone willing to talk or any paper trail-until now."
"We want you to testify against Galen van Dahl," said Cochran. "We'll drop all charges against you. We'll even find a safehouse for you."
"Listen," I said. "I really don't know much about Van Dahl."
"We saw you speaking with Van Dahl at that charity banquet last night," said the FBI agent. He grabbed my shirt. "If you don't squeal, I'll make you squeal."
"That's enough, Redfield!" Cochran barked. "You want to go to federal prison? You agree to testify before the grand jury, and you will walk. There is no way you can get off in a federal trial. The paper trail means you're going to jail. The verdict will be in, you'll be as guilty as sin."
"No," I said. "I don't know anything about this."
"Fine then," said Cochran. "Remember this. You've been arrested; van Dahl knows you're a liability. He's gonna come after you. And there won't be any marshals to protect you."
Later that morning, I went before a federal judge for a presentment hearing. The judge was a Negro lady whose nameplate identified her as Judge Sylvius
"We are charging him with insider trading, fraud, and conspiracy to commit fraud," said Cochran.
"Bail is set at eight hundred thousand dollars," said Judge Sylvius.
After paying my bail to the court clerk, I was released from the federal jail. I decided to head back to the Prudential offices in downtown Los Angeles. Within minutes after entering the lobby, I was inside the office suites. I wanted to find out more about my duplicate.
I also found some FBI agents gathering evidence in the office. They were putting ahnging file folders into white cardboard boxes.
"We're serving a search warrant," said Agent Redfield, who had arrested me last night. I saw people dowloading from the computers in the office by using laptop computers. "Don't interfere or I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice."
"I want a copy of the evidence for my criminal defense," I said. "I know that is the procedure."
"You can work with your computers after we're done."
I went into my private office. There was alaptop attached to my office computer, and the desk drawers were already open.
"Excuse me," said the FBI agent overseeing the download.
"I just wanted to make sure you didn't break anything," I said.
"We'll let you have the computer after we're done," said the FBI agent. There was a file folder on top of my desk. The FBI apparently did not take it in as evidence.
the folder did not contain data baout the investments made by this office. It contained personal data.
I saw a photo of a naked woman in there. And she was not Jennifer.
There was also a personal love letter written to the local Colin from a woman named Isabel.It was a sexually explicit love letter. Fromm it, I learned that Isabel lived in the Cayman Islands. So I learned that my duplicate was cheating on Jennifer as well.
It was clear he was involved in fraud as well as adultery. He must have been questioned by the authorities about some of his illegal deals. He quickly packed up his bags, when the Army called him and told him about me. He decided to replace himself with me, so I would bear the consequences of his crimes.
From what I can tell about the federal justice system, i would be gone even before the arraignment, so I did not have to worry about spending a decade in a federal prison. But the FBI was not the only person my duplicate was running from. There was this business with Mr. van Dahl, and if the FBI's statements about him were accurate, van Dahl would come gunning for me.
In the meantime, this world's version of Colin Mallory was in the Cayman Islands, doing who knows what.
I went back into the main office, and the FBI was just hanging there, waiting for the downloads to finish. I just remebered that Michael, who worked for my duplicate, had mentioned Mr. van Dahl.
I walked into his office, and I saw a picture of a blond-haired woman.
That must be his wife, and Galen van Dahl's daughter.
"Agent Redfield," I asked, "is this his daughter."
the FBI agent looked. "Yes, that's her. Deana van Dahl. Her husband Michael works for you."
"I figured that out."
"So Mallory, are you willing to cut a deal with the U.S. Attorney?"
"I want to discuss this with my lawyer."
"Go ahead. Just remember that we won't put you into the witness protection program until you become a witness."
I had to take a taxi to get back to the Chandler and get the Mercedes. The cab driver was some old Russian man whose name is Pavel Kurlienko. After a few minutes driving down Wilshire Boulevard, I paid him and then went off to get the car. Once I was inside the Mercedes, I drove back to the house in Beverly Hills. I reached the house by lunchtime.
I went inside, and I saw Roxanne watching television.
"Hi," I said.
She did not speak.
"Well, I was arrested by the FBI and was charged with fraud. they asked me to rat out on some gangster in exchange for getting off free. How was your day?"
"You were cheating on me, so it's not hard to believe that you would cheat investors."
"Roxanne, I am innocent of these accusation. God Himself knows that."
Danger.
I had a feeling that I was in danger. But of course I was in danger. If that gangster van Dahl ever found out that I had been arrested, he might send someone to kill me.
But I had a feeling the danger was imminent. It was like a premonition.
I immediately ran downstairs. "Roxanne," I said, "we have to get out of here."
"I'm not going with you," she said. "As soon as the divorce court opens, I'll file for divorce!"
I decided to pull her away. "Listen,"I said. "This gangster named van Dahl wants to kill me to kep me from testifying against him."
"And what makes youn think they're here now?" she demandingly asked.
"I have this feeling," I said. "come, follow me."
I led Roxanne out into the backyard, to avoid any hit men who might be sitting in a car in front of the street. I saw the Mercedes and another car, an Infiniti, parked side by side on the driveway.
suddenly, two cars suddenly stopped right in front tof the driveway, blocking it. I saw two people come out and open fire upon us.
"They're shooting at us!" Roxanne shouted.
We both headed back inside the house,locking the door and taking cover among the furniture as we made our way to the second floor hallway. I could see at least three cars. We were surrounded.
I went into the bedroom to dail 911. But there was no dialtone; the hit men must have cut the phone lines.
It looked like there was no way out excepot through another dimension, and theseguys weould get into the house long before my slide out.