CHAPTER 4

 

CHAPTER 4

Eliminate the witness! or changing conditions

Loud step noises coming out of neighbor room, awaked him automatically. In a split seconds, Tuncay got up and moved toward the room door that was currently closed. When getting out of room, he happened to see Malik moving toward the bathroom. Though he couldn’t see his face…So ran as fast as he can before Malik closed the lock of the bath door from inside. He grabed his hand to turn him back,when he felt very chilly, like someone had put tiny ice cubes all over his body. Reflectively he jumped back from coarse cold coming out of his body. Malik was paying no attention just continuing his silent steps…What scared Tuncay’s pants off was the fact that Malik was moving absolutely silent, no breath no other voice … Absolute silence…  Paralyzed with unforeseen vision- the gradually appearing green beams around his body, he watched this old Azeri man enter the bathroom and door closed. However he was sure that Malik was not the one who closed the door behind him. Green phosphorsome lights was yet seen out of the gaps under the door. When lights was gone, Tuncay got up as well. It seemed like the green light had a special power of paralyzing all around if needed.  He immediately rashed to door, sharply turned the handle of the door, but   without any success soever. “ Uncle Malik, can you hear,,,I thing something terrible is happening to you, so now I’ll get you out of this bathroom no matter what’s going to happen there…Just hold on there”. He made some hits with his shoulders but door did not  even give out any sound, what can be considered bizarre for an old wooden door. “Just be there,,,I’m coming now” saying ran back to his room, to pick anything ranging from screwdriver to little hammer to somehow break the barrier  that was currently separating two good friends.

When again ejecting himself out of room with superspeed, but what he so in front of the door, made him stop his feet immediately. Though, undergone to inertia, he slid almost 2 metres ahead through the smooth and polished wooden floor. What he saw was – Professor Maxwell the retired at age 62 the owner of the house. He had a horrible and menacing look now, leaning against the door to show that Tuncay could enter the room only over his dead body.

“Go back to your room, kid…Bathroom is out of order, you see we need to call a plumber”

-         But, Mr Maxwell, Malik needs our help… I think something’s wrong with him there.

-         Theres nobody there,…I think you was dreaming…I have been here all the time…already two ours…handling with this junked old sewer.

-         Its not  possible

-         Hmm…I don’t understand you,,,come on check your friend if you think this old man nuts.

He was just turning the handle of Maliks room that, he felt thundersome pain in his head…Someone was all the time behind him…when talking to old man and waiting for proper moment…The last thing he saw was black-red blood coming down his childish forehead…and darkness…that transferred him to the life of no lies…the absolute reality- as once told ancient greek philosopher, thus the life hereafter.   

 

 

***                       ***                       ***

-         Things are getting to serious

-         Hmm…You’re right, I think we should reconsider our schedule

 

***                       ***                       ***

 

 

“No, no…don’t. Please don’t…” talking in dream he was, when he felt gentle woman hand touching his forehead.

-         Its OK dad…

-         What’s up with him- asked another woman voice from not a close distance, like she was in other room…Both of them spoke in Azeri

-         Nothing mom, just dad, was having a horrible dream, I presume.

When Malik opened his eyes he was astonished to see these two strange women, young brunette girl of teenage, and another mature woman, but rather good looking one, coming out of kitchen, at the same time polishing the dish with for not wasting the time. But young girl, had a pretty familiar face…Like he saw her somehow a year before somewhere…He was shocked to open his eyez in other apartment, where the conversation was going on his own language – what he was longing for over 3 month.

-         Excuse me for disturbing you, but where am I now…And who you’re supposed to be…

Both women fell into deep laughing. Elder woman suddenly made a serious and threatening face like Iosif Stalin

-         We are Mars residents, we kidnapped you for waging unforeseen studies on you, human being…

And again heavy laugh burst…

-         No I’m serious

-         What’s up with you dad, are you kidding or what…

Suddenly he recalled the face of youngster…He was ninety nine percent sure that it was her…

-         Now, I remember you…You’re the girl confused me with your father in Ichari Shahar, 3 month before…remember…

-         What are you talking dad, why I must confuse you…And besides, I haven’t been to Ichari shahar since I know myself…What should I do there…You came yesterday after a one week business trip to Japan. You’re now in Baku

-         Baku, but its not possible, I was…I …What’s up with Tuncay, poor kid…I knew that something was wrong with this project…Almighty Allah, I don’t even remember the name, what was the name… “Ero”, “eso”, nop “belo”… “Bolero”. He suddenly stood up…My memories is mixed, so I don’t know which one of my lifestyles is reality…am I really head of family or pathetic bum, that would have had better life if not involved in this freaken project.

Show me our photo albums, video footage or something,,, anything to refresh my memories…Then we’ll go to Global Unemployees Exchange Organization office.

-         What is that…

-         Don’t you know, its branch of UN, founded in 2015 or something like that

-         Dad, I thing, you are still dreaming…what you’re talking about…Its yet 2010.

Such news, did not even shock him, ‘cos he already was full with such surprises…

-         Never mind with that…and by the way what is my name?

-         Ahmed Tagizade…

-         Where do I work?

-         Hmm – United Nations Organization – Department of Public Information…

-         Oh…my…God….Oh…my…God…OK what is next…Have I not yet purchased hundred tons of cocain from Columbia

 

***                       ***                       ***

 “Look, Ahmad, my friend, you know that we know each other already two years…So what you would do if you were in my place…What for heavens sake did you it in Japan…Wasabi or something…I’m sure something has happened to you there…Look, I have never  heard such kind a bull crap, even in documentaries about secret project…I’m keeping up to date of even every tiny details of news coming from New York, and I don’t think Ban Ki Moon would   conceal something from me, if he’s up to sort of project making. I can tell you that, good rest, must have you, indeed… So I’ll be waiting for you after a week…However at home please prepare the comprehensive report of your activities in Japan, during the annual Environmental Conference” – said the UN Azerbaijan office resident when having one-on-one chat with Malik – currently Ahmad Tagizade, allegedly UNDPI  deputy resident coordinator.

-         Dad, how was your meeting- asked Camila, the only daughter of Ahmad…

-         Unfortunately, very bad…He thinks that I’m out of my mind so gave me a week-off.

-         Wow sounds perfect…Now you have time to arrange our travel to Antalya…

-         Nop…I have things to do now,,,and besides he was Ahmed, your father who gave you such promises not me…I’m yet Malik, my real personality, Malik or Ahmed is not yet defined…Almost 30 to 70. But I’m gonna find it out no matter how matter time it takes. Do you have internet connection.

-         Ofcourse, wireless, you bought it last year and hi-tech, super german laptop, when heavy snow covered the streets of Baku, don’t you remember dad.

-         Stop giving same sort of questions and go bring the laptop

As soon as she disappeared, he began interiorly  thinking out appropriate key words for search at internet. He sat down on cosy sofa gave a short glance on a table, tasty looking Plov was yet giving out steams as it was high time he ate the dinner. But he postponed it till finishing the search on internet.

-         Here you are, you are already logged so open browser and enter wherever you want, I have no anti-fishing system…

-         You think I understood anything of what you told me- said Ahmed returning the laptop to his daughter…

-         You will help me…

-         OK… I can do my homework any later..

-         First enter any search engine…which one is the best

-         By all means, Google.OK- she began typing like a thunder. she seemed to have chatted on net so many times…- www.google.com. So what next…what we are going to search.

-         Type down “project Bolero” exchange

-         Project BOLERO – Bolero with capital letters…

-         I think it makes no difference.

-         BOLERO

-         Come on, press enter key

-         Whola, over 2 million foundings…

-         Look for exact writting , project Bolero

-         There’s one…Here. But its Bolero project…

-         Open it…

-         Hmm…Its an article from Wikipedia…you know virtual encyclopedia…it says… “Bolero Project is an ArtistShare recording project led by Latin singer Leonardo Granados and jazz pianist Edward Simon”... “ArtistShare has been well known for their "fan funded" projects which expose the creative process of music making to fans. "Bolero Project" is an appreciation of boleros, a sensual dance music wide spread in South America. The project is dedicated to Simon's father who introduced the music to him and Granados' mother as a special gift. All the boleros are interpreted into jazz/improvisation style with Simon providing arrangements and Granados providing vocal interpretations”

-         No its something regarding jazz… look for next one

-         We have project bolero.net…lets open it in other tab…here…its green project I think…yes sure… “objective is To "de-materialise paper" in ALL its forms by producing an acceptable electronic substitute”

-         Continue

-         No appropriate ones in first page lets go to second…

-         No wait a minute…what is that in the seventh position…the words project olerob and exchange with bold

-         Its personal blog…

-         Enter, now

-         Ok..Ok…what’s hurry…here personel blog…Sort of an complaint article or what,…with heading “I was kidnapped”

-         Bingo…you go have your dinner, I must read it by myself…And by the way youre doing good with your English

-         Oh, thank you dad

The blog contained this message

“…I don’t exactly know what’s happening to me, whether I’m going crazy or really came from 2017…It was sort of project mastered by United Nations Organization – dubbed OLEROB… I used to be a bum …But after I was involved in this project, when applying in Global Unemployees Exchange Organization office, something has gone wrong…Last thing I remember was that I was send to Azerbaijan. I lost part of my memories,,, now I’m 23 year old guy, having education in Detroit state college, but I can swear to God that, I was a decades older before applying for this project. I thing they had been doing sort of secret experiments on me…so please if there’s anyone knowing something about this project get in touch by underwritten e-mail…Ben Adler”

When he saw the name Ben Adler, he reflectively jumped off his chair…luckily laptop was on small sofa-side table. He recalled the words of assistant manager said months ago… “And finally, you’ll be exchanged with Ben Adler, USA…You’ll better remember this name”

The next thing what astonished him mostly was the date shown under the blog:

“Created: 10 minutes before”