Chapter 4

“I know he’s currently the most hated man in America,” Angela said. “He’s the CEO of a defense company he started up on his own.”

“Is that all?” Soprano said. “Don’t you have more personal information. Like his hobbies?”

“He doesn’t make a lot of public appearances,” Angela retorted. “There’s not enough on him”

“And that’s the problem we want you to fix,” Mr. Soprano said as he clapped his hands softly. “ We want you to write a book on him. A biography.”

“Why not get somebody else? Why me?” Angela asked confused.

“This is where the grey area come in,” Soprano informed the shocked Angela. “You aren’t really going to be writing a book. That’s all a ruse.”

“For?”

“You’re going to be gathering sensitive information about Drake and selling them to us,” Soprano said. “The biography is to let you get closer to him.”

Angela stood up quickly unable to believe what she was hearing. “I’m gonna leave now. When I do, don’t contact me ever.”

“You’re gonna report me to the police?” He asked.

“I don’t like Drake enough to care.” She said in matter of fact manner.

She began to walk away.

“What about your mother?” Soprano called out.

She stopped.

Soprano grinned like a fox who had its prey cornered.

“If you do this for us. We’ll pay you handsomely.”

Angela’s phone hummed, she looked at it and found that she had been wired 500k dollars into her account.

The look of shock in her face caused Soprano to smile more. “Just a little something to get your mom’s chemotherapy started.”

“How did you know?”

“I represent some very powerful people who can be generous to you or make your life a nightmare.”

Angela took a deep breath, she was stunned by the amount of money she had right now in her account, it was more money than she had seen in her lifetime. 

“If I refuse. What happens?” She asked, she couldn’t decide what was the right option to choose. Should she take the money and save her mother or decline the bribe.

“I don’t know why you would,” The bald man said. “You admitted you don’t care about Drake and that’s fine. This is a perfect opportunity to get back at him and save your mother.”

His argument was persuasive to her, if it had been any other person, she wouldn’t have thought twice before declining and calling the police.

“Can I think about this?” She pleaded.

“You have a day,” Mr. Soprano said as he buttoned his suit. “Good day.”

Angela stared at the numbers that represented the amount of money she had in her account. There were just six figures and yet those six figures seemed to be taking over her life and as she got out of the cab and paid the driver, she wondered if it was more ethical to spy on Drake and potentially contribute to his ruin or report to the police who would undoubtedly protect the mass murderer instead of bringing him to justice.

Her apartment was small but was already overcrowded, most of her mother belongings were with her due to the fact she was the only one out of her two brothers who lived in the same city as their mother.

She opened the fridge and found nothing to eat. She decided against eating out as she believed she was probably being followed.

All this stress because of one asshole.

“He deserves it, doesn’t he?” Angela asked herself as she stared at her blank television. “And my mother doesn’t deserve to die.”

But these people could be worse.

She decided to stop her internal debate and watched the news. She would settle the debacle later.

As she turned on the TV, she instantly regretted it, it was a segment on what was going on in Afghanistan by RCS news.

They had gotten aerial footage from a drone they had flying over, what it showed was horrifying. Children wailing at the sight of their dead parents, mutilated teens, bombed houses. It was too much for Angela and it was all Drake’s fault, he sold the Taliban, the  weapons they were using to continue their reign of terror.

There was also several shots of US soldiers who were deployed to counter the threats of the insurgents but in a twisted sense of irony, some of the soldiers were using guns made by Caliber technologies.

She switched off the television and placed her face into her palms. She thought of Esin, she had managed to get out of that hell hole with the help from an anonymous source but there was also hundreds of thousands of Afghanistan citizens who were stuck, who would help them out.

Looking through one of her mother’s boxes, she found an old picture of her and her mother going home from the hospital. Angela had been sick for a really long time and was scared but her mother sat beside her and reassured her that everything would be alright till she got better.

“The world doesn’t need another billionaire.” She murmured to herself as she picked up her phone and dialed Mr. Soprano. She had made her decision.

“I’m in.” She said when he answered.