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Black Mountain
Black Mountain
Black Mountain
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Black Mountain

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This is a story about two young attorneys who met while studying Law at Cornell University. Their friendship developed into a special bond and upon graduation they formed a firm specializing in real-estate law.

Early in their practice they encounter mysterious threats to their lives. The mystery unravels slowly as they become embroiled in a national investigation into the dealings of a rogue company, who happens to be one of their clients. They are relentlessly being pulled into a spiraling web events that will change their lives forever, sucking in even the United States government and several foreign nations. A powerful tale of love, friendship, hate, deceit, and murder.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 14, 2019
ISBN9781732802452
Black Mountain

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    Book preview

    Black Mountain - George Berger

    Black_Mountain_Ebook.jpg

    BLACK

    MOUNTAIN

    A NOVEL WRITTEN BY

    GEORGE E. BERGER

    BLACK MOUNTAIN

    Ventura-Berger Press

    Copyright © 2019 by George E. Berger

    All rights reserved.

    This is a work of fiction and of the author’s imagination. No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

    Cover by Peter Fahnestock.

    Editing: by Tom Stebbins, Jo Ann Williams and Martin Coffee.

    Without the help of Jose Ramirez this book may never have been published.

    ISBN 13: 978-1-7328024-3-8 Paperback edition

    ISBN 13: 978-1-7328024-4-5 Hardcover edition

    ISBN 13: 978-1-7328024-5-2 Digital edition

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2019901950

    Printed in the United States of America

    This book is dedicated to my great-grandchildren,

    Georgianna Fahnestock,

    Nolan Fahnestock,

    Ellie Berger,

    Lily Berger,

    and Olivia Berger.

    Contents

    CHAPTER 1

    CHAPTER 2

    CHAPTER 3

    CHAPTER 4

    CHAPTER 5

    CHAPTER 6

    CHAPTER 7

    CHAPTER 8

    CHAPTER 9

    CHAPTER 10

    CHAPTER 11

    CHAPTER 12

    CHAPTER 13

    CHAPTER 14

    CHAPTER 15

    CHAPTER 16

    CHAPTER 17

    CHAPTER 18

    CHAPTER 19

    CHAPTER 20

    CHAPTER 21

    CHAPTER 22

    CHAPTER 23

    CHAPTER 24

    CHAPTER 25

    CHAPTER 26

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    CHAPTER 1

    I lay face-down in a dark, filthy New York alley. Barely conscious, I tried to call for help, but could only make a gargling sound. ‘ How long have I been lying here?’ I wondered. I had no idea. All I remembered was when the thugs started beating me, pounding me repeatedly with their fists then kicking me viciously when I fell down. Now, everything hurt. It even hurt to breathe. One eye was swollen shut, but from the other eye I sensed a light shining down on me.

    I heard a voice. Grab his ankles and I’ll grab him by the shoulders. This guy is really beaten up.

    Is he alive?

    I think so.

    The two strangers carried me out of the alley and laid me on the sidewalk. One of the men said, Call 911, give them our location.

    After a moment, I heard Did you call?

    Yeah.

    Let’s get the hell out of here. We don’t want to be involved in any part of whatever this is.

    I lay on the cold sidewalk, feeling alone and helpless. I whispered quietly, Please don’t leave me.

    An ambulance pulled up to the curb. The two EMTs found me lying limp and lifeless on the sidewalk like a bag of garbage. I was put on a gurney and then loaded into the ambulance, its sirens blaring as it pulled away from the curb.

    I woke up and looked around, wondering where I was and how I had got there. I had been heavily sedated. My head felt groggy; my vision was blurred.

    A nurse walked into the room, Good to see you’re awake. You have been in a coma for the last four days. You’re lucky to be alive.

    I tried to speak, managing to garble a few words, How did I get here?

    The nurse said, We don’t know anything about you. You had no wallet or any identification of any kind. Can you tell me your name?

    Slurring my words, I answered, I am James Cooper, I’m an attorney. Where am I? What happened?

    OK, Mr. Cooper—this is a good start. We know your name. You get some rest and try to sleep. You’re going to be with us until you completely recover. The doctor will give his report on your condition when you’re ready and your head is clear. Mr. Cooper, do you understand what I’ve just said? I nodded my head in the affirmative.

    An hour later, I rang the buzzer by my bed. A nurse came into the room.

    What do you need Mr. Cooper?

    When can I see the doctor?

    Mr. Cooper, you have been examined by two doctors. You were in a coma. You were unaware of your surroundings. In good time, when you’re in a condition to see the doctor, he will be in to talk to you.

    I was in bad shape. I had an IV in one arm and an oxygen tube in my nose. I could barely speak. My vision was blurred. I was confused and had lost all awareness of time.

    A gentle voice called my name, waking me from my sleep. I rubbed my eyes and saw a blurry figure in a white coat standing over me.

    Mr. Cooper, I am Doctor Jenkins. I have been treating you. I would like to discuss your condition. Do you understand what I am saying?

    I nodded.

    Mr. Cooper, you have been badly beaten. I will give you a run-down on your condition and what we did to alleviate your symptoms. You had three broken ribs. We gave you an MRI. Your brain has swollen due to a Subcultural Hematoma. We drained the excess blood to reduce the pressure on your brain. You have a dislocated shoulder and lacerations all over your body. You were bleeding and lost quite a bit of blood. To be on the safe side, we gave you a transfusion and your blood count is now normal. We kept you sedated to help you cope with the pain. We will reduce your medication slowly as you improve. Mr. Cooper, you’re lucky to be alive. I am going to leave for now. I will check on you every day to monitor your progress.

    The next day, Doctor Jenkins stopped in to see me. Mr. Cooper, don’t try and ask a million questions now. I told you everything you need to know at this time. Think about what I told you yesterday. We are going to take things one step at a time. Get some more rest. I will see you tomorrow. One more thing before I leave—the nurse will be asking you a lot of personal questions, such as what type of insurance you have, where you live, etc. Do your best to answer. Tomorrow we are going to know all about you. Dr. Jenkins walked out of the room.

    I looked up at the ceiling with eyes wide open. I let out an angry cry, Why me! I laid there thinking about what the doctor told me. Lying in bed hour after hour gave me a lot of time to think. I was conscious enough to start piecing together what happened the night I was dragged into the alley. The beating was no ordinary robbery. Those four thugs were professionals. Were they trying to send some type of message?

    I could not sleep. My brain started racing. I thought about each of my clients. Did the beating have to do with any of them? What else could it be?

    The next day, the nurse began by asking me a list of questions. They were routine and necessary for the hospital records. Some of the questions were about my family.

    I have one sister who is three years younger than me. She is happily married to a chef who works in one of the high-class restaurants in New York City. My father is a civil engineer and works for the City of New York. My mother is a school teacher in New York. They are all solid citizens. There is nothing in my family’s background that could have brought this beating on. They are all squeaky clean. By the time she was finished, the nurse had enough information on me to write a book.

    I was reluctant to tell my family what had happened. After a week in the hospital, I had the nurse call my father. He was told the bad news. Within hours of the nurse calling my dad, the whole family was in my room. I tried to avoid all the commotion. Having been beaten and recovering in the hospital is not the best occasion for a family reunion. My mother was beside herself, crying and carrying on. This was just what I needed. Instead of my family consoling me, I was consoling them and trying to calm them down. I tried to keep my sister and my mother from losing control. My sister sat in the corner of the room crying and carrying on, almost to the point of being hysterical.

    My mother kept yelling. How could this happen to my baby? How could this have happened?

    I began to feel guilty and ashamed. What had I done to bring this black mark on the family? I felt like Al Capone, like I had committed some crime. There was too much commotion. My family was out of control. I asked the nurse to clear the room.

    The next day, I got a call from my dad apologizing for all the commotion. I calmly presented the situation to him and he accepted the explanation. Cooler heads started to prevail. I asked my father to contact my law partner, Betty, and have her give my girlfriend the gruesome details of what had happened. I asked him to please emphasize to my partner the importance of keeping everything that happened confidential, the exception being my girlfriend.

    Dr. Jenkins came in my room shortly after I finished talking to my father.

    How are you feeling Jim?

    Better. Thank you Doctor.

    Jim, I have some good news and some bad news. The good news first. You’re healing quite nicely. You’re coming along faster than we expected. You will start your therapy tomorrow. The bad news is that we had to report what happened to you to the police—we are required by law. You’re going to have to give them your statement. There will be two detectives visiting you today or tomorrow.

    The doctor walked out of the room. My mind gained focus and clarity. I was starting to remember certain events of importance. What happened to me was a well-planned attack. I keep asking myself the same question. Is there a connection between the attack and one of my clients? Over and over, the same thought kept running through my mind. What other logical explanation could there be? Is there something that I know that one of my clients doesn’t want me to know? I racked my brain, searching for answers. Someone wanted me out of the way. They could have shot me if they wanted me dead. Being beaten so badly, were they sending me a message? From now on, I had to watch my back and be careful of what I said and did.

    I had a restless night, thinking about my situation and how I was going to survive. The nurse came in and checked my vital signs, giving me a thumbs-up. It was the usual routine in the hospital with everyone making their rounds. My breakfast was brought on a tray—scrambled eggs and a piece of toast with coffee and juice. I was squared away for the morning. It looked like another boring day in the hospital until the nurse escorted two men into my room.

    Mr. Cooper, there are two detectives here to see you.

    They came over to my bedside and asked, Are you James Cooper?

    I am James Cooper.

    "I am Detective Paul Peterson. This is my partner, Detective Oscar Smith. We are here to initiate a police report on what happened to you. We are not going to ask any questions at this time. When you get discharged from the hospital, you can come down to police headquarters and give us your full statement on everything that happened on the night of your assault. There is nothing we can do while you’re in the hospital. We have no leads.

    We want to catch these bums and put them away. Here are our cards. Give us a call when you’re ready to talk to us. Good luck. Get some rest. We will see you down at headquarters when you’re up and about. The sooner the better."

    Day by day I was getting stronger thanks to my therapist. He did wonders getting me back into shape. I worked with him twice a day. I was looking forward to the day when I could be discharged from the hospital.

    Dr. Jenkins came over to my bedside. He had a big smile on his face.

    Your therapist has updated us on your status. You have been with us for six weeks. It’s time for you to go home based on your positive progress. You have a very strong body. Jim you’re a very big man at six foot two and weighing one hundred and eighty five pounds it is one of the reasons you survived. Do you want to go home?

    What do you think?

    I am going to sign the discharge papers today. Do you have someone who can take you home?

    I will call my partner and have her pick me up.

    Jim, you have been a great patient. I want to wish you good luck. I do not want to see you back here again. Your sister brought you some clothes. You can look like a human being again.

    Doctor, I can’t thank you enough for all the care that you have given me. I will never forget you.

    My partner walked into my room, took one look at me, and said, You had all of us worried to death. We love you and don’t want anything like this to ever happen again.

    Betty, it is good to see your smiling face again. Take me to my apartment. I’m really not in the mood to do a lot of talking. I just want to go home. I will explain everything in a couple of days when I get in the office.

    CHAPTER 2

    I called Betty and told her I would be in around noon and to have some lunch sent to my office—I didn’t want to go out and eat.

    I walked into the office and Betty had lunch ready for the two of us. She didn’t say a word. She was going to let me take the lead and tell my story.

    Betty White was not only my partner; she was a close friend. We went to law school together. Betty and I were the same age. We both received our law degrees from Cornell University. She was the first black woman to graduate first in our class, receiving the title of summa cum laude as well as being an honor student. It was Betty who helped me get my degree in law, as well as many other struggling students. Betty was there to help tutor anyone. At the office, she was my right hand and without her, our practice would have failed. We both specialized in real estate law. She took care of the finances and tried to keep the clients happy. She did the research and I represented our clients in court. We were a perfect team. Betty was happily married to a professional football player. They had one child, a little girl.

    After we finished our lunch, Betty looked at me and said, When do you want to tell me what happened and how you wound up in the hospital barely alive?

    I spelled out the whole incident of what happened down to the last little detail. We sat quietly looking at one another for a few minutes. Finally, she said, What happened to you does not make sense. Why would four men beat the shit out of you? Just for kicks? Jimmy, are you leaving something out of your story? You’re not telling me everything. She shook her head. Something is missing. Have you done something to provoke anyone?

    Betty, I am as confused as you are. I have a hunch and that is all it is, just a hunch. This may sound crazy to you, but I think one of our clients believes we know something that we shouldn’t. The beating was a warning to keep my nose out of their affairs. Think about what I just told you before you say anything.

    Jimmy, I don’t know what to say. I have to give this whole situation some thought.

    When you get your thoughts together, I want to hear what you have to say. In the meantime, while you’re thinking, I’m going out to buy a gun. I guarantee what happened to me will never happen again. The police can’t protect me. I have to take care of myself.

    The time had arrived to meet with the two detectives that interviewed me in the hospital. I have been out of the hospital for four days and I was ready to meet with

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