Janet Reid, Literary Agent: Friday the 13th writing contest**PARIS UPDATE

Revamp: Antonov's  Diamonds

                                   Prologue

Antwerp Belgium

They pulled their balaclavas into place. The driver of the van signaled two minutes as the van pulled to the curb. Their quarry was timely man. He lived to an excruciatingly precise timetable. So did his Bichon Frise. Every night at precisely six twenty five, Meneer (Dutch for Mister) Goossens exited his front door preceded by his beloved dog Lola, the Queen of all things.

His routine was as precise as he was. He walked the same route at six twenty AM and PM. The walk took exactly thirty two minutes allowing Lola to relieve herself twice.  As he exited each evening from his house he waved to Meneer Moscowitz, his next door neighbor, who arrived at the same time every night. Moscowitz closed his diamond shop in Antwerp's diamond district at six PM sharp.

The two neighbors were cordial but not friends. Goossens lived alone and Moskowitz had a full household, wife, two adult sons that worked at his diamond exchange, and two younger daughters who attended University.

On the side of the van was painted “Fiskebar Restauratie”, a local fish restaurant a block away. The van was not out of place, Moskowitz and Goossens were accustomed to seeing the van parked near their houses. Neither gave it  a second thought.

Lola preceded Goossens into the twilight. The temperature was ten degrees celsius, cool but not cold. She was pure white, wearing a pink crocheted jacket the Goossens bought over the internet. Goossens was tall and bony with close cropped receding hair he kept hidden under a tweed English racing cap that matched his overcoat. He wore gold rimmed glasses and had a hawk like nose that was accentuated by his thin lips and small brown eyes.  

He turned and locked the deadbolt on his front door as Lola led him out onto the sidewalk. “How was your day Lola?” he asked. “Mine was tedious. Meneer DeSmet's was in a terrible mood today, he made me redo the entire VeReisten account. Every number and decimal point. Nothing, and I mean nothing makes that man happy. My report was perfect. Who does he think he is the way he orders me around, do this, do that. Why if I had half a mind Lola, I would just quit that stupid job.”

As Goossens got even with the van  the driver gave the signal and the side door slid open. Without a word Goossens was seized and pulled into the van. Lola barked once before being scooped up. The door slid back shut without anyone seeing what happened. Inside the van Goossens tried to object but was slapped viciously across the face by a black gloved hand so hard his glasses broke. A second, heavy handed, slap stunned him into confused silence. Lola growled. For her effort she was dropped into a duffle bag and the drawstring pulled tight.

“What do you,” he started and was slapped again.

“You will not talk, you will do what you are told if you wish to live.” said one of the men. He slapped Goossens again who began to cry.

Inside the van another black clad man spoke, “You will go to your neighbors house, knock on the door and tell them you have lost your dog. It will not matter who answers, you will ask to speak to someone other than the person in front of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but,” and he received another severe slap across the face which brought fire to his eyes, they began to water. His nose started to run. His face hurt.

“You will do exactly what I say,” and he cruely slapped him again. Goossens began to quiver. Good thought his assailant. The more he cries the more believable he will be at the door.

“ You lost your dog and want to see everyone who is home. Have yourself invited in but make sure the door stays open so you can listen for your dog.They know you. Make them believe you,” he commanded. “If you wish to live you will have all six family members gather in the living room with the front door still open, do you understand?”

He gave a wide-eyed nod, and said “Yes”.

The door slid open and two men in black disappeared.

“Now, go, I will be behind you. If you cry out he will slit your throat,” and he nodded towards the driver of the van. “You will die in agony.”

Goossens  departed the van followed by the man in charge. Goossens was terrified, what did these men want with the Moscowitz's?  Why did they need him? What were they going to do to him, hit him again? He silently prayed they would not. His face hurt so badly he was crying. He opened the gate and walked up to the porch. He thought he saw movement to his right but kept his head pointed straight away. He didn’t dare look sideways. The other two men disappeared, he knew they were there but he was too scared to look.

He rang the bell and Sarah answered, “Meneer Goossen,” she said and smiled. “So nice to see you, are you alright?”

“Lola is missing, have you seen her?” he sobbed.

“No, please come in,” and she stepped aside to let him pass.

He paused, “I lost Lola, would you leave the door open so if she calls for me I can hear her?”

“Of course,” she said sympathetically. “Mother, Meneer Goossens is here. He has lost little Lola.”

“Hello Meneer Goossens,” she said walking in from the kitchen, “ I'm sorry but I have not seen her,” she said as she called out for her husband and sons.

“Is your other daughter home?”

“No, she is at school this evening,” Mrs. Moscowitz said.

Goossen walked into the living room and collapsed onto a chair. The rest of the family came into the room and offered their condolences and support. “I’m sure she is alright. We will all help you look for her Meneer Goossens,” said the youngest son Emil earnestly .

Three men dressed in black entered the house, “Do not say a word,” their leader said as he closed the front door behind him.  “Sit.”

“What,” and before Emil could finish his question he was struck savagely across the bridge of his nose with the butt of a gun. He fell to the floor and his mother screamed. She was immediately backhanded and tumbled onto the couch.

Mr. Moscowitz stepped towards one of the intruders and was slammed with a ferocious punch.“The next one who moves will be dead,” the gunman said quietly. He raised his silenced glock and pointed at Mrs. Moskowitz’s face. Everyone froze in place. The family did not dare  move. Goossens cried. Emil seethed.

“Everyone sit. This will go quickly and painlessly if you do as you are told. If you disobey even the smallest command this will happen.” He shot Goossens in the forehead.  

“Do I have everyone's attention?”

The family sat in abject horror.

He raised his radio to his lips and spoke softly, “Bring the van.”

Motioning with his gun he pointed.  “You and your son Lucas  will come with us, the rest will stay here,” he said cooly. “Do  not speak to each other, sit where you are and be still. If you do this you will not die.”

His radio squawked, he motioned to one of his men to open the door. “Where are your office keys?”

Moscowitz motioned to a set of keys by the front door. One of the men put them in his pocket. “Out.” Two  gunmen followed  the father and son out the front door. One black clad man remained.

The man stood with his back to the front door when three minutes later his radio keyed. “Yes,” he said.

“We are away.”  With that he fired his silenced weapon. Emil, the youngest daughter Roos and Mrs. Moskowitz were dead instantly. The man picked up his spent brass and slipped out the  door.  He drove to the Port of Antwerp, seven kilometers away, and headed for a freighter bound for Baltimore Maryland.   

In the van the leader said, “Your family will be safe if you do as you are told. We will go to your office, you will disarm the alarm. Do not make the mistake of signaling you are in distress. You will die and so will your family. You will open your safe and I will remove the diamonds. This is a simple operation. If you deviate you will die. If you call for help, you and your family will die.’

‘We have thirty seven minutes. Your family is being tied up. My man will leave them at your house once we have gotten away. If he does do not hear from me in precisely thirty-seven minutes your family will die just like the unfortunate Meneer Goossens. Do  not test me. You have seen what I am capable of.” he warned. “Do not speak,  only nod your head, do you have any questions?”

He shook his head.

They drove to the diamond district where Moscowitz and Sons occupied the first floor of a three-story brick building and parked in front. “Your son will stay in the van.” The leader removed his balaclava to reveal a shock of Stalin like grey hair. He had heavy eyebrows and grey sharks eyes that were completely without compassion. He put on a tan cashmere sports jacket, picked up an aluminum briefcase and opened the door to the van.

“It will be just the two of us, do not make a mistake, do not underestimate me.” He slid his .40 caliber Glock in to his shoulder holster, adjusted the crease in his black gaberdine slacks and said, “After you Mr. Moskowitz.”

They stepped onto the street in silence, Moscowitz mounted the four steps to his building and turned off the alarm with a barrel key at the front door. He unlocked the door and entered a code into the alarm key pad on the wall inside, stopping the silent alarm countdown.

In the van outfront a “pfft” was barely audible when one of the men shot Moscowitz’s son in the back of the head. The two murderers got out of the van and walked to a car down the street  and got in. They waited in silence.

Inside, Moscowitz went to turn on the overhead lights and the grey eyed man slapped his hand away from the light switch. “ No.” He snicked on  a flashlight and motioned towards the safe. “Open it.”

“I want to call my family to make sure they are OK.”

“No,” and the grey-eyed man slapped him fiercely across the face knocking him down. “Open the safe or I will kill you and have your son open it for me, after he sees your dead body.”

Moscowitz rose to his feet and began to tremble. His hands shook as he fumbled with the combination lock. He spun the dial and grabbed the handle and tugged on it. The door remained locked. The grey eyed man slapped him angrily across the ear with his gloved hand, “Do not take me for a fool, you have one more try. If you fail I will kill you and get your son.” He removed his cell phone and punched in a number to no one, “Vasily, shoot his wife in the knee.”

“No, please do not,” and he was slapped again so viciously his brain felt like it was zapped with electricity.

“If you fail to open the safe again I will have her shot in the other knee. I will kill you and if your son fails to open the safe I will have your daughter and son shot. I am an extremely violent man; my men are extremely violent. We enjoy inflicting pain. We enjoy killing. Open your safe,” he commanded.

Moskowitz spun the dial again. He twisted the handle and the door swung open. Alexei Antonov shot him in the back of the head.

Antonov opened the briefcase and removed a bomb with ten pounds of plastic explosives, enough to destroy half the block. He methodically placed the contents of the safe into his briefcase and set the device to go off in fifteen minutes. He exited the building and got into the front seat of the car and as they drove away the man in the back seat toggled a switch and the van exploded. The building blew up fifteen minutes later. Antonov smiled. The bomb was timed to kill the first responders to the van explosion and to cover up any evidence of the crime.

They drove to the Antwerp international airport and placed the contents of the briefcase into a Federal Express box addressed to Satchels and Sandals, 492 East Pratt Street, Baltimore Maryland USA 21202. They headed for Sochi, Russia, for a much needed rest.

                                              

ANTONOV'S DIAMONDS A: FLYNN CHRISTOPHER NOVEL

Antonov motioned and his men pulled their balaclavas into place. The driver of the van signaled two minutes. Their quarry was timely man who lived to an excruciatingly precise timetable. So did his Bichon Frise. Every night at precisely six twenty five, Meneer (Dutch for Mister) Goossens exited his front door preceded by his beloved dog Lola, the Queen of all things.

His routine was as precise as he was. He walked the same route at six twenty AM and PM. As he exited each evening from his house he waved to Meneer Moscowitz, his next door neighbor, who arrived at the same time every night. Moscowitz closed his diamond shop in Antwerp's diamond district at six PM sharp. Goossens lived alone and Moskowitz had a full household, wife, two adult sons that worked at his diamond exchange, and two younger daughters who attended University.

Lola preceded Goossens into the twilight. The temperature was ten degrees celsius, cool but not cold. She was pure white, wearing a pink crocheted jacket the Goossens bought over the internet. Goossens was tall and bony with close cropped receding hair he kept hidden under a tweed English racing cap which matched his overcoat. He wore gold rimmed glasses and had a hawk like nose marked by thin lips and small brown eyes.  

He turned and locked the deadbolt on his front door as Lola led him out onto the sidewalk. “How was your day Lola?” he asked. “Mine was tedious. Meneer DeSmet's was in a terrible mood today, he made me redo the entire VeReisten account. Every number and decimal point. Nothing, and I mean nothing makes that man happy. My report was perfect. Who does he think he is the way he orders me around, do this, do that. Why if I had half a mind Lola, I would just quit that stupid job.”

As Goossens got even with the van, Antonov signaled and the side door slid open. Without a word Goossens was seized and pulled into the van. Lola barked once before being scooped up. Inside the van Goossens tried to object but was slapped viciously across the face by a black gloved hand so hard his glasses broke. A second, heavy handed slap, stunned him into confused silence. Lola growled. For her effort she was dropped into a duffle bag and the drawstring pulled tight.

“What do you,” he started and was slapped again.

“Do not talk,  do what you are told if you want to live.” Antonov said quietly. He slapped Goossens again who began to cry.

“Go to your neighbors house, tell them you lost your dog. It will not matter who answers the door, ask to speak to someone other than the person in front of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but,” and he received another slap across the face which brought fire to his eyes, they began to water. His nose started to run. His face hurt.

“You will do exactly what I say,” and he slapped him again. Goossens began to sob. Good thought his assailant. The more he cries the more believable he will be at the door.

“ You lost your dog and want to see everyone who is home. Have yourself invited in but make sure the door stays open so you can listen for your dog.They know you. Make them believe you,” he commanded. “If you wish to live you will have all six family members gather in the living room with the front door still open, do you understand?”

He gave a wide-eyed nod, and said “Yes”.

The door slid open and two men in black disappeared.

“Now, go, I will be behind you. If you cry out he will slit your throat,” Antonov nodded towards the driver of the van. “You will die in agony.”

 Goossens was terrified, what did these men want with the Moscowitz's?  Why did they need him? What were they going to do to him, hit him again? He silently prayed they would not. His face hurt so badly he was crying. He opened the gate and walked up to the porch.

He rang the bell and Sarah answered, “Meneer Goossen,” she said and smiled. “So nice to see you, are you alright?”

“Lola is missing, have you seen her?” he sobbed.

“No, please come in,” and she stepped aside to let him pass.

He paused, “I lost Lola, would you leave the door open so if she calls for me I can hear her?”

“Of course,” she said sympathetically. “Mother, Meneer Goossens is here. He has lost little Lola.”

“Hello Meneer Goossens,” she said walking in from the kitchen, “ I'm sorry but I have not seen her,” she said as she called out for her family.

Goossens walked into the living room and collapsed onto a chair. The rest of the family came into the room and offered their condolences and support. “I’m sure she is alright. We will all help you look for her Meneer Goossens,” said the youngest son Emil earnestly .

Three men dressed in black entered the house, “Do not say a word,” their leader said as he closed the front door behind him.  “Sit.”

“What,” and before Emil could finish his question he was struck savagely across the bridge of his nose with the butt of a gun. He fell to the floor and his mother screamed. She was immediately backhanded and tumbled onto the couch. Mr. Moscowitz stepped towards one of the intruders who slammed him with a ferocious punch. Everyone froze in place. The family did not dare  move. Goossens cried. Emil seethed.

“Everyone sit. This will go quickly and painlessly if you do as you are told. If you disobey even the smallest command this will happen.” Antonov shot Goossens in the forehead.  

“Do I have everyone's attention?”

The family sat in abject horror.

He raised his radio to his lips and spoke softly, “Bring the van.”

Motioning with his gun he pointed.  “You and your son Lucas  will come with us, the rest will stay here,” he said cooly. “Do  not speak to each other, sit where you are and be still. If you do this you will not die.”

His radio squawked, he motioned to one of his men to open the door. “Where are your office keys?”

Moscowitz motioned to a set of keys by the front door. One of the men put them in his pocket. “Out.” Two  gunmen followed  the father and son out the front door. One black clad man remained.

The man stood with his back to the front door when three minutes later his radio keyed. “Yes,” he said.

“We are away.”  With that he fired his silenced weapon. All four died. The man picked up his spent brass and slipped out the  door.

In the van Antonov said, “Your family will be safe if you do as you are told. We will go to your office, you will disarm the alarm. Do not make the mistake of signaling you are in distress. You will die and so will your family. You will open your safe and I will remove the diamonds. This is a simple operation. If you deviate you will die. If you call for help, you and your family will die.’

‘We have seventeen minutes. Your family is being tied up. My man will leave them at your house once we have gotten away. If he does do not hear from me in precisely seventeen minutes your family will die just like the unfortunate Meneer Goossens. Do  not test me. You have seen what I am capable of.” he warned. “Do not speak,  only nod your head, do you have any questions?”

He shook his head.

They drove to the diamond district where Moscowitz and Sons occupied the first floor of a three-story brick building and parked in front. “Your son will stay in the van.” Antonov removed his balaclava to reveal a shock of Stalin like grey hair. He had heavy eyebrows and grey sharks eyes that were completely without compassion. He put on a tan cashmere sports jacket, picked up an aluminum briefcase and opened the door to the van.

“It will be just the two of us, do not make a mistake, do not underestimate me.” He slid his .40 caliber Glock in to his shoulder holster, adjusted the crease in his black gaberdine slacks and said, “After you Mr. Moskowitz.”

They stepped onto the street in silence, Moscowitz mounted the four steps to his building and turned off the alarm with a barrel key at the front door. He unlocked the door and entered a code into the alarm key pad on the wall inside, stopping the silent alarm countdown.

In the van outfront a “pfft” was barely audible when one of the men shot Moscowitz’s son in the back of the head. The two murderers got out of the van and walked to a car down the street  and got in. They waited in silence.

Inside, Moscowitz went to turn on the overhead lights and the grey eyed Antonov slapped his hand away from the light switch. “ No.” He snicked on  a flashlight and motioned towards the safe. “Open it.”

“I want to call my family to make sure they are OK.”

“No,” and Antonov slapped him fiercely across the face knocking him down. “Open the safe or I will kill you and have your son open it for me, after he sees your dead body.”

Moscowitz rose to his feet and began to tremble. His hands shook as he fumbled with the combination lock. He spun the dial and grabbed the handle and tugged on it. The door remained locked. Antonov slapped him angrily across the ear with his gloved hand, “Do not take me for a fool, you have one more try. If you fail I will kill you and get your son.” He removed his cell phone and punched in a number to no one, “Vasily, shoot his wife in the knee.”

“No, please do not,” and he was slapped again so viciously his brain felt like it was zapped with electricity.

“If you fail to open the safe again I will have her shot in the other knee. I will kill you and if your son fails to open the safe I will have your daughters and other son shot. I am an extremely violent man; my men are extremely violent. We enjoy inflicting pain. We enjoy killing. Open your safe,” he commanded.

Moskowitz spun the dial again. He twisted the handle and the door swung open. Alexei Antonov shot him in the back of the head.

Antonov opened the briefcase and removed a bomb with ten pounds of plastic explosives, enough to destroy half the block. He methodically placed the contents of the safe into his briefcase and set the device to go off in fifteen minutes. He exited the building and got into the front seat of the car and as they drove away the man in the back seat toggled a switch and the van exploded. The building blew up fifteen minutes later. Antonov smiled. The bomb was timed to kill the first responders to the van explosion and cover up any evidence of the crime.

They drove to the Antwerp international airport and placed the contents of the briefcase into a Federal Express box addressed to Satchels and Sandals, 492 East Pratt Street, Baltimore Maryland USA 21202. They headed for Sochi, Russia, for a much needed rest.