Jessop sat back in his chair, calm.  Juicy, indeed, this was very juicy.  Sitting back watching Nathan and company scurry around like little ants after a piece of delectable fruit.  What could be more fascinating and delicious.   He laughed aloud.  “Well, Nathan, have I at last found your Achilles heal?  I truly hope so.  In that case, I know how to up the pressure.”  He picked up the phone and dialed a nefarious connection able and willing to do his bidding and said, “Continue with the plan, now!”   He thought, yes indeed, I have him on the run.  How interesting.

Yes indeed, life was worth living and living well.  And part of living was making Nathan suffer.

Meanwhile, Nathan had met with the manager of the Paris Gallery and looked over the damage.  It could have been worse.  Most of the artwork had suffered smoke damage which he could repair.  The outside of the building required minimal restoration, it could have been far worse.

What angered him more than the damage to his establishment was Jessop’s ability to make a dent in his world.  It annoyed and frustrated him that this was an aspect he hadn’t considered.  That would change.  After meeting with the gendarmerie nationale or the Compagnie Républicaine de la Sécurité, security had been tightened, they would now watch his properties.  He hired private security to police the property immediately and throughout the repairs.  His manager was on alert with express orders to double check all requests for art and delivery and to take nothing for granted.  

He hired workman he knew he could rely on to make needed repairs expressing adamantly he required updates via snapchat, daily on the progress being made.

He returned to his Hotel and crashed for 4 hours before boarding his plane and heading to Italy.  Onboard he looked over his other galleries locations, specs and designs, prepared to place similar protection in place.

Before he arrived, however, a second gallery was attacked.  He listened attentively as the manager explained the damage,  far more extensive as some sort of bomb had been placed inside a janitor’s closet causing the back wall to cave in, taking a large portion of  art with it.  Fortunately, there were no injuries to report.

Nathan cursed as he dialed the third gallery instructing the manager to call the local police, ( The Polizia di Stato) explain that his properties were being attacked and request assistance until he arrived.  Before he had landed, men he trusted were already in place.

The bright spot in all this was that Jessop had slipped up.  Attacking one gallery could be considered unfortunate but attacking all three created a pattern.  He had only to connect the dots.  A nail in Jessop’s coffin he hoped.

Page 151                                                                                          Page 149


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