No Apologies and No Regrets

by Roddy Wix

An associate of Jean-Robert’s from Langley, Virginia had arranged for the house in Aquitaine. From the outside the place had the appearance of a slightly foreboding pile of stones. The old manse sported a turret and, of all things, a real moat. A deep grove of trees obscured the building and isolated it from its surrounding twenty hectares of vineyards and open land. Despite its medieval features someone had obviously taken care in planning and landscaping the grounds adjacent to the home.

  Logistically, a small plane or helicopter could operate out of the field in back and the nearby river added to the variety of escape routes available. To Jean-Robert, the encircling stand of trees worked to conceal the building from an intruder or vice versa. A sophisticated security array including infrared cameras in various treetops monitored the area on a continuous basis. Nonetheless, he would have to remain vigilant. He and one other person formed the castle’s solitary line of defense should someone come for Anya. She was still suffering from the shock of being displaced and forced to endure an exhausting day of travel designed to throw off pursuers.

  Jean-Robert told Anya that the chateau's owner rarely visited anymore and, for the most part, she rented it out to vacationers. The one person on premises full time was Todd, the good-looking young American who had been hired to improve the vineyard’s yield and quality. He hailed from northern California and had worked with a number of the prominent growers in Sonoma County. So, other than Todd and the weekly grocery delivery no one ever came close to the house.

  They arrived late in the day, around sunset, having taken a circuitous route and a variety of means of transportation ending with an elderly Range Rover. Exhaustion had begun to set in, but she managed to share in a light meal of homemade bread from the village, cheese and a little of the wine produced on the property.

  She crashed early and, as Jean-Robert gave her no schedule for the following day, slept until mid-morning when she awoke to find a hearty breakfast prepared and waiting on the sunny terrace. Without asking how Jean-Robert knew she was awake she took a seat at the black wrought iron table. The heavy chairs had cushions covered in black and white fabric and reminded her of an elegant old movie set. Jean-Robert seemed pensive, but the sun was warm on Anya's face and the eggs and bacon smelled wonderful.

  "No one is close to the house.”

  Todd smiled at Anya as he walked toward her. He wore heavy boots and carried a shotgun over his shoulder. Patting a square leather pouch he said he was thinking about going off to hunt quail after he checked on the winery.

  Jean-Robert stretched out on a chaise lounge pretending to read a book while he continuously scanned the backside of the property. More heavily armed than Todd, Jean-Robert kept his weapons at the ready.

  “Can I get you something for breakfast?”

  The young man declined and she asked, “Would you like tea?”

  Anya motioned toward the chair next to her and Todd seemed anxious to accept her invitation. “Thank you.” The man’s boyish smile and tousled blond hair made him seem younger than his twenty-five years. He sat down, resting his shotgun against the edge of the table. Anya poured a cup of tea from a delicate Limoges pot.

  “You know, this little castle doesn’t seem like much in the dark, but in the morning light it's delightful.”

  “Yes it is.” Todd took a sip of his tea and pulled his sunglasses off revealing his intelligent blue eyes.

  “Where are you from, Todd?”

  “Los Angeles, but I grew up in Petaluma. I’ve been working in vineyards since I was very young.” The story rolled off his tongue in a convincing way and Anya never questioned its authenticity.

  They all spent the next half hour making idle conversation about the weather and the vineyard and what the grapes would be like that year. Todd predicted a fine harvest and high quality grapes.

  “I liked the wine we drank last night. Delicious."

  “From the harvest of 2006 and a bit acidic to my taste, but very popular. I think this year will be much better.” He glanced at his watch and said, “As a matter of fact, I need to get down to the winery office to check a few things. I’ll be back in about an hour or so.”

  Jean-Robert nodded and suggested to Anya that they move inside as the sun grew hotter. She agreed and they walked together into the stone floored great hall with its charming country furniture and massive fireplaces at either end of the chamber.

  “Jean-Robert, may I use a computer?”

  “I have to ask why.” He smiled and even acted a bit embarrassed.

  “Something is bothering me about the code I got from the Rusikov brothers and I'd like to be able to follow my hunch.”

  “I'll get you a laptop.” Jean-Robert strode up the circular stairs concealed in the turret. On the second floor he went to his own room, extracted a Mac Book from his duffle bag, and returned to Anya’s side.

  “This will allow you to access the internet through a satellite, but try to work off line as much as possible.”

  “Thank you.” Anya took the machine and sat in a comfortable wing backed chair close to the fireplace. She worked quietly throughout the afternoon. Todd had returned and started puttering around in the kitchen. Jean-Robert, he told her, was walking the perimeter of the woods. From her window she could see him moving slowly along the bank of the pond where the water formed a natural moat encircling the castle. Intent on his mission, Jean-Robert moved like a stalker on the trail of substantial game.

  29.