Date: Thu, 28 Mar 2019 22:06:27 -0700
From: Paul Landerman <pjwltx9@gmail.com>
Subject: Mario chapter 11

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ELEVEN
	Mario's receptionist called his desk phone: she announced a call
from "Jerry Richins from the State Department." Mario picked up the line
immediately, happy to talk with his old acquaintance, yet anxious.
	"Jerry, how are you? What's up? How is the Captain?"
	"I'm very well, thanks, and the Captain is always grand. He said to
tell you hello. But I'm calling today to alert you to some news about
Lina."
	"Really? As far as I know, she is nicely settled into the immigrant
Iraqi community here and has a full-time job with friends of mine at their
art gallery in Beverly Hills."
	"Believe it or not, I was aware of all of those things- we kind of
have to keep up with our clients." Jerry was trying to be droll. "But this
news is not directly concerning her, but her brother- the guy who took her
to Spain in the first place and got her the job with the Prime Minister."
	"OK, I'm listening" Mario replied, now apprehensive.
	Jerry continued: "We have been monitoring the brother for a long
time, since we were first contacted by Spain, and with the help of Mossad,
established a clear link between him and a cell in Madrid. Now it seems
they have up-graded their goals and have become entwined with a cell in
your neighborhood."
	"That's not happy news at all" Mario deadpanned.
	"True. But I'm not spilling any national security secrets by
telling you any of this, because I am sure it will be extremely unlikely
that you will ever see him. Instead, I just want you to be aware of the
circumstances and be able to prepare Lina and her care-givers as well as
her employers so that appropriate precautions are in place."
	"What do you think is the urgency with all of this?" Mario asked.
	"Yesterday" Jerry replied. "I know it is asking a lot, but if you
would not mind, I think it would be prudent to drop everything you are
doing to make sure all of the precautions are in place before the end of
the day today."
	"Got it." Mario was already tapping his cell phone with Mickey's
speed-dial number. In less than a minute, Mickey was in the office,
standing against the closed door. Mario filled him in on all of the history
with Lina as well as the news from Jerry Richins. It was now pretty obvious
that Jerry did not exactly work for the State Department.
	"Boss, I will handle all of this. Let me call Ross and Joaquin and
tell them you are on your way to meet them at the Beverly Hills gallery; I
will also contact Greg and get things rolling with Peter. By 5 PM I can
have a new place for her to stay for a week or so."
	"Thanks Mickey; you are a genius. Call Phil Downey as well and
coordinate the safe-house with him please." Mario was already heading out
of the office, and Mickey was running to the receptionist's office to
re-schedule Mario's afternoon meetings and clients. Within an hour, Mario
and Ross and Joaquin were huddled in Ross's consulting office in Beverly
Hills next door to the art gallery; no one was smiling.
      Mario's phone rang; it was Mickey, explaining that Phil Downey, the
ex-Sherriff's deputy with the huge cock, was already at Lina's apartment
gathering a few clothes for her. He was headed to the safe house Mickey had
arranged. "We will meet him there" Mario replied.
	"Actually, Boss, no you won't. Phil said to have you sit tight in
Beverly Hills; he has a car coming to pick up Lina. It will be safer that
way for everyone. And Boss? Don't make me worry about you or your safety."
	Mario laughed. "Yes, Dear."
	Mickey's voice got low: "I'm not kidding."
	"Got it. Hey I need to hang up, I have a call from Peter."
	"OK, please call me back when Phil arrives." Mario was impressed
once again at Mickey's thorough approach to his job.
	Supper that evening was tense: Simon had thrown together a quick
buffet for all involved, including Ross and Joaquin, but there was very
little conversation around the patio next to the fireplace. Greg and Mickey
both had very serious expressions all through the meal, while Peter kept
glancing between Mario, Ross, and Joaquin. Phil seemed to be the only one
who was relaxed.
	Just as everyone was finishing with the buffet, Phil took a call on
his cell phone; he walked into the great room to speak privately. Within
five minutes he was back outside and announced that Lina was safe and had
chaperones staying with her: two of his staff, both women, both heavily
armed black-belts. He also related how the FBI, the Los Angeles County
Sherriff, the Los Angeles PD, and a unit from Homeland Security had located
and arrested three members of the cell, including Lina's brother Ahmad.
      They had been found in the basement of a cheap downtown store-front
mosque; the building had been rented under a false corporate name and had
masqueraded as a mosque although none of the neighbors could ever remember
any actual religious services being held inside. The "Imam" who was the
supposed head of the mosque had not been found as yet; LAPD and Homeland
Security were still searching for him. Their search was concentrated around
the South Pasadena neighborhood which housed the major mosque in the LA
area.
      Ahmad was not in any mood to talk. He spoke nearly perfect English
but would not give the investigators from Homeland Security any
information. He kept glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall above the
interrogation table. At exactly one minute past 6 PM, he relaxed and
smiled. An investigator with Homeland Security stepped into the room and
signaled everyone out into the hallway except Ahmad. A bomb had just been
exploded at the Iraqi Consulate; three people, all employees, had been
injured. No deaths were reported. Since the consulate office was located on
Wilshire Boulevard, it was apparent the target was likely the LA rush-hour
traffic rather than the consulate itself. Police and news media helicopters
were all churning the air above the scene.
      In Malibu, Peter and Mario both grimaced. Phil assured them he was in
constant touch with the chaperones for Lina, and so far everything was calm
there. Lina would not go back to work at the gallery for at least three
days, Phil told Joaquin and Ross, to insure her safety. When the "Imam" was
found and arrested, it would be safe for Lina to go back out into the
public. It was very likely the man posing as the Imam was not simply the
leader of the cell, but probably an important Al Qaida veteran and not a
Muslim cleric at all.
      "Who are these people, anyway?" asked Mario.
      Phil said the cell was a rebel off-shoot of Al Qaida, without any
other real ties to the main group. Its stated mission, at least from a few
hints available on social media used by Ahmad and his colleagues, was to
punish the Iraqi government for collusion with the Americans. No one had a
clear explanation for their motivations; just blowing shit up seemed to be
their main purpose for operating in Los Angeles. With very little financial
backing from Al Qaida, the group would probably have withered and died in a
few months anyway before being picked up by the Feds.
      At 10 PM Greg and Mickey decided to call it a night and headed out
the door. "Take the morning off" Mario said to Mickey. `I wish I could"
Greg responded; "But we have a big wedding rehearsal tomorrow night."
       "Oh damn, I forgot" Peter moaned.
      Greg laughed; "See you in the mañana Boss" he tittered.
      Simon was clearing up the buffet, assisted by Peter. Ross and Joaquin
kissed their hosts goodnight and left for their bungalow above the Malibu
art gallery. Simon, winding down after all of the guests had left, sighed
deeply. Peter asked "Is everything alright?"
      "Sure, I was just wondering if you see that much drama around here on
a regular basis?"
      "Oh, Hell no!" Mario replied. "Nothing like this has happened since
this house was built."
      "OK. By the way when you have time, some quieter day, could you
please tell me the history of this house?" Simon was genuinely intrigued by
the old Malibu landmark.
      "Certainly. Let's talk this weekend." Mario and Peter said goodnight
to Simon and went to their master suite.
      "I hope we did not upset Simon" Peter remarked. "I would really like
him to be comfortable and stick around."
      "I agree. I'm just getting used to having a housekeeper and becoming
a California cliché." Mario smiled broadly.
      "You wish" Peter retorted. "By the way, have I told you lately that I
love you?"
      "I don't think so, but I'm getting old and can't remember" Mario
joked.
      Peter looked serious for a moment. "How long has it been?" he asked
Mario.
      "Since that First Famous Kiss?" Mario asked.
      "Yes."
      "Oh god, now I am getting old. Let's see, three years? Two years?"
      Peter was laughing; "Five, my love. Five of the best, most beautiful
years of my life. And we should have an anniversary party to celebrate that
Kiss."
      "You think so? How about if we just celebrate here privately?"
      "How would you llike to do that?" Peter asked, just as Mario grabbed
the substantial Schilling cock and took it into his mouth.
      "Ohhhhh..."
      The next morning at 945 Mickey walked into Mario's office and
announced that Phil Downey was in the lobby. "Bring him in, certainly"
Mario instructed. In thirty seconds, Mickey and Mario were staring at a
smiling security agency chief.
      "I was just down the block having coffee when I got a call with some
news that I want to share with you. It seems the body count at the
Consulate was wrong last night; there was one fatality. The burned-out van
carrying the bomb parked in front of the Consulate had a body inside. That
body has been identified as Rashad Abbaoud, the cousin of the leader of the
Paris terrorist attacks in 2015. "He was not an Imam" Phil laughed. "But he
is certainly now in Muslim heaven."
      "Following up on all of that, Lina is fine, although of course
certainly upset about her brother. She had no information about his
membership in the cell and has already cooperated with Homeland in a couple
of interviews last night and this morning. NSA has identified the cell as
calling itself "Mohammad's Hammer", a pretty grandiose name given the
circumstances. They got all of that information from Ahmad's social media
networking. Apparently this guy has been involved with Al Qaida since long
before he took Lina to Spain."
      Mickey said "Well I'm so glad she is safe. What is the future for
her?"
      Phil responded "She wants to go back to work today, and Homeland said
she is free to go anytime she wants so I have already called Ross and
Joaquin and alerted them that she will be back at work tomorrow, a day
early. By the way, Joaquin does not need to know this, but there are three
levels of security watching the gallery for a couple more weeks: FBI,
Homeland, and us."
      "Phil, we truly appreciate all you have done for us and for Lina. I
always had a weird feeling about the circumstances of her life and
situation when I first met her at the Prime Minister's home in Madrid. She
is a fine person and has had some really terrible challenges in her
life. She deserves some happiness." Mario looked morose.
      Mickey interjected "Well your intrepid PA together with Greg have
already intervened on that front."
      "Really?" both Phil and Mario expressed surprise.
      "Yes sir. There is a small group of Iraqi ex-pats that we have been
put in touch with, using Stuart and Raj and their contacts through City
Hall. The group meets twice a month for socializing at UCLA; Dr. Aneth is
familiar with them because she has students who are involved with the
group. Anyway, Greg and I are taking Lina to their next meeting on Monday."
      "Wow." Mario and Phil again were in tandem.
      "And, this is especially for you Phil, out of an extra measure of
concern for her security, we have moved Lina's residence to a secure tower
within walking distance of the gallery. We were not previously aware she
had been taking the bus to work every day."
      "How did you do all of this?" Mario was in awe of his PA.
      "I have friends" Mickey grinned.
      "In other words you are not telling us ?" Phil guessed.
      "Correct. A girl has to have some secrets."
      Both Mario and Phil burst out laughing, at which point the
receptionist came in to announce the weekly Partner's luncheon, which Mario
had completely forgotten. Phil hugged both Mario and Mickey and excused
himself; Mickey, answering a call on his cell phone, wandered down the hall
to his own office.
      In the conference room, with a light lunch of salads and iced tea,
Mario sat at the near side of the huge table and looked out the windows
towards the coast. Terry Baylor, Berniece McLean, Sandra Dominguez, and
Phillip Winters were all waiting for him to speak. "Welcome once again to
Baylor, McLean and Garza" Mario began.
      "I am deeply impressed at this particular moment by the heavy lifting
you all have done to keep us operating so efficiently. My own personal
circumstances outside of this office and this firm have been benefitted
wonderfully because of you all and your hard work. Thank you."
      There was light applause from each of them. Berniece spoke briefly
about her coming campaign for the city council in Santa Monica, and each of
the junior members spoke briefly about their assignments and client
loads. Mario asked each one if they needed any help in their client
assignments or court dates and reminded them that this firm had never had
to ask a court in its entire history to re-schedule a case.
      "Speaking of dates and such, I want each of you to consider one
professional conference in your specialty area for the coming six
months. Your expenses will be covered by the firm, of course, including
travel, per diem, and conference expenses, and you may be accompanied by
your significant other. Please let me know in the next week what you plan
on doing."
      Berniece chuckled; Sandra looked perplexed; Phillip Winters smiled
agreeably; Terry Baylor stared at his notes. Mario made a mental note of
that.
      Berniece responded immediately "Well I can tell you already without
waiting another week, that I am going to resign as the county bar
association president and concentrate on my campaign. The heavy campaign
season starts in about a month. I'm opening my campaign office this weekend
and you are all invited to the party."
      Mario congratulated her and thanked her again for her years of
professional effort; they had never been close, but Mario had deep respect
for her and her dedication to the firm and her craft. "By the way,
Berniece, may I have a minute with you when we are finished here?"  Mario
asked.
      In her private office, Mario said "Berniece, you are a legend in law
and in the bar association, so I am certain you will be elected to the city
council. My concern is your case load here at the firm. Do you have any
suggestions for me?"
      "Naturally I have given it a lot of thought. I do not want to leave
you high and dry. I wonder if it might be time to expand the firm again and
bring in a couple more junior partners" Berniece explained. "I am not
planning on resigning, but I would appreciate a diminished case load."
      Mario had already thought about that and had previously asked Mickey
to get that agenda in motion. Mario responded to Berniece "Maybe a good
idea, thanks for that suggestion. Let me give it some thought. If you have
any candidates in mind, maybe you can send me a note?"
      Berniece agreed to send a list to Mario; he already had a short list
of names which had been forwarded to him by the law school Dean, whom
Mickey had contacted. After returning to his own office, Mario heard a
tentative tap at his door; Phillip Winters stepped in to the office.
      "Mr. Garza, I have a couple of questions." The Brigham Young
University graduate and former Mormon missionary to Chile had never lost
his formal approach to relationships around the firm. He even called the
receptionist "Ms."
      "What's up Phillip?" Mario chuckled.
      "Well I have a couple of conferences in mind, but I would appreciate
your advice on which might be more beneficial for me to attend."
      "Enlighten me."
      Phillip showed Mario brochures on a family law conference to be held
at Salt Lake City, and an immigration law conference to be held in San
Antonio.
      Mario said "Since both of these are areas we want you to concentrate
on for the firm, why don't you plan on attending both? If you can work it
out with your family and personal schedule of course."
      "Gosh, Mr. Garza. That would be fantastic. I really wanted to go to
both but I could not afford it personally."
      "Mario."
      "Sir?" Winters looked confused.
      "Please call me Mario." Mario smiled because he knew he was only
adding to the confusion of the slightly naïve Utah transplant. "I'm sure
you will benefit from both conferences, so plan on going to both, and if
your wife wants to go with you, I hope you both have a great time. Take an
extra day at each of the conferences and relax and enjoy yourselves."
      "Wow. That would be great. Thanks." Phillip Winters quietly shuffled
out of the office and closed the door.
      Winters was quickly replaced by Sandra Dominguez. She had nearly the
same questions as Phillip, and asked Mario what he thought she should
concentrate on in her specialty areas. Mario suggested she coordinate with
Winters; perhaps the two of them could attend both conferences as well. He
also reminded her she needed to keep him updated on her client recruiting
and visits to the Barrios throughout the county.
      Toward the end of the day, Terry Baylor finally found his way to
Mario's office. "I've been expecting you."
      "Sorry, I had a lot of paper shuffling to do." Terry looked slightly
apprehensive.
      "What's on your mind?" Mario asked.
      "I want you to know how much I have enjoyed working in the firm and
with you of course, and I want to know if you think I am on the right
course with my specialty area. I'm doing general law right now, a little
property, a little family, a little torts, but I can't seem to settle on
one area."
      Mario suggested "Have you thought about corporate? We have a serious
need in that area, and Berniece will be leaving a hole in the firm when she
gets elected to the city council, so maybe you can become the lead lawyer
in the firm in corporate law. We already have a short list of clients, but
we will need you to get out on the street and drum up a lot more business."
      "I like that suggestion; please let me have a day or two to think
about it. I will get back to you by Monday."
      "Anything else, Terry? It seems you might have more on your mind."
      "Personally, I really miss Dad; I was truly looking forward to
working with him here at the firm, and now with both him and Uncle Tommy
gone, I have been a little adrift."
      "I share your feelings; I miss Ted and Tommy as well. They were very
gifted lawyers and a joy to work with. Think about this: I do not want to
throw cheap advice to you along the likes of `just concentrate on your case
load' or some other crummy cliché, but I do want to advise you to keep a
balance in your life. That means not just here at work, but in everything
you are throwing your energy into: work, play, socialization, hobbies,
friends. And that means please consider Peter and I as among your friends."
      "Thanks, I will try. Please tell Peter hello for me."

      Mario had a very productive day despite all of the recent drama and
stress and had not even noticed it was long past quitting time until his
cell phone rang: it was his gorgeous husband. Peter was chuckling when
Mario answered the call: "What's so funny Babe?" Mario asked.
      "Oh I was just thinking of all of the lascivious and nasty things I
want to do to you when I get my hands on you tonight."
      "Oh god; your wish is my command.  Let's get the dishes done early
and the kids put to bed so we can snuggle." Peter laughed even more; "To
the Moon, Alice" he retorted.
      "Sorry I am late getting out of the office today, lots going on, but
I will leave right now and get home as quickly as traffic will allow me."
      "How about we meet for dinner some place near your office?" Peter
queried.
      "Sure. Can we afford it? I mean with all of our domestic expenses, a
housekeeper and a couple of PA's and all..."
      Peter laughed even harder. "Well, I may have to take on some extra
clients in my catering schedule to afford your indulgent lifestyle, but
just this once, yes, I can treat you to dinner out at a restaurant, maybe
McDonald's or Burger King?"
      "Do you think I am a cheap date ?" Mario was laughing.
      "Oh, Hell no, that's my point. Taking you out to dinner is major"
Peter chuckled.
      Within an hour, they were seated at Bruno's, enjoying the ocean
breeze and a bottle of Montepulciano. Mario ordered Veal Marsala, and Peter
ordered Shrimp Fra D'Avilo. Another hour later, it seemed as though the
cares of the world and the recent stress and drama had evaporated from
their lives.
      Peter stared out the large windows toward the fading sunlight; he
turned to Mario and said "You know I am not terribly introspective, but I
have been wondering where you see us as a couple five years from now, or
even fifteen years from now?"
      "Amor, these five years have flown by so quickly, I did not even
notice the time. Being with you has been like a dream; You brought me out
of a deep dark slumber and into the light again, where I had been with
Mason. I do not compare you to him, you are completely different, and I
love you as completely as it is possible to love someone.
      "Five years? In that time I want to retire from the law firm and have
one of the young bucks take over. Maybe Terry will be ready by then. I'm
still not sure about him. Ten years? Running around the world maybe like
Jimmy Carter or one of those guys doing good deeds."
      Peter laughed; "I always love your comparisons; you as Jimmy
Carter. That will be cute, seeing you dressed in country bib overalls
swinging a hammer."
      "You have seen my hammer."
      "Oh yes sir I have and it is a very substantial hammer and you know
just how to use it."
      "I'll race you home."
      Mario was the first one in bed, and already naked and hard when Peter
raced through the door of the master suite, yanking off his sweater and
kicking off his shoes. It took less than a minute for him to be naked and
dive mouth-first onto Mario's waiting cock, sucking the pre-cum drips from
the tip. Moaning, Mario begged "Fuck me".
      "Now?"
      "Right fucking now."  Pushing Mario's legs up onto his shoulders,
Peter lubed Mario's hole and his own cock, and very unceremoniously shoved
his large schlong into the winking hole below him. Mario nearly fainted
with the invasion. He moaned loudly and bucked his ass against the cock.
He wanted all of it and more.
      Peter slammed his cock into Mario like a spike, and in about five
minutes pulled out and lay panting beside him on the bed. Mario climbed
over him and kneeling over the cock, took it into his ass once more. He
jacked himself up and down on the huge cock, and they both came at once;
"Pretty good for an Old Fag, huh?" Mario was laughing.
      "If I did not know better and if it was dark in here I would have
guessed a twink was sitting on my cock" Peter retorted.
      "Oh really? Well are you ready to get fucked?"
      "Go for it."
      Mario pulled off Peter's cock and repeated the same things Peter had
done to him: he shoved Peter's legs up over his shoulders and invaded his
ass, slowly, making Peter moan even louder than before. Mario came again in
about ten minutes; Peter blew his second load in another minute or
so. Sated, breathing heavily, the two lovers lay side by side when Peter
giggled "Beige."
      "What the Hell?"
      "It's an old Mormon joke my cousin Paul Campbell tells."
      "OK."
      "So: what is the difference between a prostitute, a mistress, and a
Mormon housewife?"
      "I have no idea."
      "The prostitute finishes and says `that will be a hundred bucks'. The
mistress finishes and says `was it good for you?'. The Mormon housewife
says `Beige. I want to paint the kitchen beige'."
      Mario could not stop laughing. They grabbed each other and hugged,
sliming the cum between their chests. Within minutes, both were asleep,
Peter snoring lightly like a cocker-spaniel puppy.