by T. H. Moore
Charles returned an expressionless stare, rebuking the universal greeting. “And where is the other doctor?” he asked Adi.
“The moment I received word from the captain that you were on your way,” he said quickly, “I contacted your attorney, and he placed her on the first flight from Ethiopia. She’ll be here in the morning.”
“Excellent. And Duenno?”
“Duenno is in disarray.” Adi hesitated for a moment as though thinking about the best way to break the bad news. “It’s splintered into a few feuding factions. In every country, you’ll find someone declaring themselves Yäbälay. Governor Negesso initiated a massive campaign against Duenno after the kidnapping of his son. Every day, multiple times a day, there’s a raid. If he hears the slightest whisper that even one shale is in a building, his task force hits it, arrests everyone, and burns it to the ground.”
This was not so much different from what Charles had expected.
“Speaking of my insurance policy, how is the governor’s son?” Charles inquired.
“He’s still tucked away with plenty of security, and out of the shale circulation, as you ordered. Only the members of the council know his specific location.”
“Good. Now let’s address the business at hand.” Charles looked at the physician once more.
“We are prepped for surgery on the top floor of one of Banyuwangi’s premiere hotels,” Adi assured him. “You will have the entire floor to yourself, and I will personally oversee your travel and meeting with the council. Whatever you need, just ask and it’s yours.”
Charles nodded in acknowledgement.
“Captain,” Adi said, rubbing his hands together as he got down to business. “Go fetch the girl and bring the shales along with her. We’ve yet to negotiate a price for them.”
As the captain turned and headed back for the ship, Charles glanced at Adi in disappointment. “The shales are cargo below deck on my boat,” he said, making no attempt to keep the threatening tone out of his voice.
Adi’s minions looked at each other, on alert and ready to pounce at the order of their boss. A smile formed on Adi’s face as he waved them to stand down.
“Your profit is now my profit,” Charles said. “Or have the most rudimentary rules of business changed while I was away the past couple months?”
“They have not,” Adi agreed. “And you are absolutely correct.”
“Perfect.” Charles smiled, then turned quite serious. Despite his words, the expression on Adi’s face did not offer the level of submission Charles was looking for. “When did we become equals?” Charles asked, his voice suddenly soft and dangerous. “Have you miraculously ascended Duenno’s ranks to become a member of the council of which I am the sole Yäbälay?”
A sly smile crossed the other man’s face. He glanced around, making sure his minions were still attentive.
“In truth, I suppose it must be obvious that things have, indeed, changed in your absence,” he said to Charles. “The moment you were placed under arrest, “you forfeited your control over Duenno. Furthermore, the moment another man bent you over a chair and treated you like an ordinary shale, you lost the title of Yäbälay. A lot can happen in two months, Charles.”
This public outing froze Charles in humiliation and fury.
“To be honest,” Adi went on, as though he cared nothing about the rage that was growing on Charles’s face, “when your attorney contacted me, I didn’t take your plan to escape very seriously. But here you are. It matters not, however, for Duenno is no longer yours, and in Indonesia, I am Yäbälay.”
Charles clenched his fist at this last announcement, a move that Adi saw and shrugged away.
“Did you know there is a ten-million-dollar reward for the safe return of the governor’s son?” Adi said with a grin. “And fifteen million for any of his captors. Lucky for you, though, I’m not a greedy man, and my obligation to this arrangement ends with the safe delivery of your fugitive beauty to the Brazilian who is awaiting her with great anticipation.”
“But I must admit, an extra ten million dollars is enticing,” Adi mused, interrupting Charles’s thought process. “So why don’t you tell me where the governor’s son is? Then you and the girl can continue with the surgeries you need before going on your way.”
“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Charles responded, causing the bodyguards to stir.
“Kill me? Is this my reward for facilitating your new lease on life?” Adi questioned. “Look around you. The snap of my finger and you’ll find yourself bent over again like you were in K-City,” Adi said as his brow crumpled and his nostrils flared. Without waiting for a response, he snapped, “Bagus, kill him.”
Before Adi’s last word hit the air, the brute named Bagus launched a series of jabs and kicks upon Charles, who blocked most of the blows with his forearms and ducked the rest. The enforcer reared back and charged at Charles, but he sidestepped the raging bull, grabbed his wrist to absorb the man’s momentum, and cast him off the edge of the dock. The clumsy henchman flailed in the air until he crashed into the side of a neighboring boat and dropped into the water, where he lay motionless with his neck twisted at an impossible angle.
Charles turned toward Adi, who looked at him and smiled.
“Gema, kill him!” Adi ordered his remaining bodyguard.
The two men locked into combat while Adi, the surgeon, and the captain, who had just returned with the shackled captives, looked on. The two skilled fighters punched and kicked at each other with precise ferocity. Charles was holding his own, but was slowing from exhaustion. Gema landed a solid kick to Charles’s midsection, and followed by tackling him to the ground.
“That’s it!” Adi barked. “Break his neck!”
Charles pulled out his buck knife and sliced at the crease between his opponent’s forearm and bicep, causing a stream of blood to pour from the severed artery. The fight in Gema poured out of him as quickly as the blood leaving his body. When the big man pulled back to clasp a hand over his bleeding arm, Charles thrust the knife up under his ribcage and into his heart. Gema stiffened and fell to the side.
Adi shook his head in disappointment at Charles’s disposal of his second bodyguard.
“I’ll do you the old-fashioned way,” Adi said, his .357 magnum handgun pointed at Charles.
Hands up, Charles froze in place, a smirk blooming on his lips. A shot rang out—bang!—followed by a look of shock on Adi’s face. The usurper’s body thumped to the ground.
The captain lowered his rifle. “I never did like that son of a bitch,” he said.
Next to him, Elaina and the young shales cringed into the background. Charles went to Adi’s dead body and retrieved his cell phone, the plastic hotel key, and the handgun, while the captain directed his captives to join Charles on the dock.
“What are we going to do now?” Elaina asked.
“Nothing’s changed,” Charles said. “When Dr. Peña arrives, she’ll remove our KPP devices, and Dr. Cavalcanti will change how we look. After that, you can do whatever you’d like.” He paused, watching her, then added, “But there are very important people who went to great lengths to make sure you arrived here safely.”
Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what he’d just said. “I don’t understand.”
“You will soon,” Charles promised.
Chapter 32
AS THE RISING MORNING SUN shone through the large windows of the Indonesian penthouse suite, Elaina woke to find one of the nurses checking her bandages and recording her vital signs.
“Sorry for waking you, ma’am,” the nurse said. “I’ll be done in a few minutes. Try to go back to sleep.”
“I’m fine,” Elaina replied. “The doctor said my bandages could come off today. It’s been two weeks. Tell him I’m ready to see my face.”
“Both doctors are with Mr. Gravo,” the nurse
explained. “They’ll be in later today. Going to give you a sedative to get you some sleep, ma’am.”
The nurse removed a syringe from the pocket of her scrubs and stuck the head of it into an IV receptacle. Elaina looked over at the digital clock on her right as the nurse gave her the injection. In a matter of seconds, the numbers became blurry, and her eyes and head felt heavy.
~~~
“Mrs. Souza, it’s time for you to wake up,” Dr. Cavalcanti said to rouse Elaina from her slumber. “Sra. Souza, é hora de tirar os curativos.”41
As she fought through the drug-induced haze, she realized that she was still in the hotel suite. Two physicians in white coats stood over her. Behind her doctors was the nurse, who held a mirror in her hands. Elaina grew anxious to see her new face.
Cavalcanti and an aide helped Elaina sit upright, and he pulled a pair of surgical scissors from his white coat pocket and went to work cutting off her bandages. Elaina felt the tension of her wraps loosening with the progression of each cut. When he was done, the cool, sterile air of the room graced her skin like a boyfriend’s first kiss. She watched the doctor nod in approval.
“Nice, very nice,” the doctor assured her with a broad smile. “You’re a fast healer, Mrs. Souza.”
“Elaina Almeida,” she declared. “My husband is dead.” She noticed the two surgeons regarding the other in an odd manner.
“As you wish, ma’am,” one of the surgeons responded. “Now, you have some minor swelling, but everything looks good.”
“Give me the mirror,” she demanded with an extended hand towards the nurse. Her doctor nodded and Elaina snatched it from the nurse. But then, before looking at her new face, she closed her eyes and took a moment to gather her courage.
After a single deep breath, Elaina raised the mirror in front of her face and opened her eyes. She turned her head to inspect her profile. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, and her nose thinner, more pointed. The crows’ feet were gone from the corners of her eyes, and her facial lines were sculpted to be more symmetrical. Had she looked at herself her entire life, she could have easily mistaken the reflection for someone else. She smiled.
“Ah,” the doctor said with obvious relief. “So you are pleased?”
“Yes, very much. What about the chip, Dr. Peña?” Elaina questioned.
“Yes, ma’am,” Dr. Peña said as she approached her. “Everything is fine. And the fact that you remembered my name after meeting me once is a great sign that your memory hasn’t been affected.”
Elaina closed her eyes again and suddenly started weeping quietly.
“Is there something wrong, Mrs. Souza?” Dr. Peña inquired.
Rage washed over Elaina at hearing her married name again. As her teary eyes opened, she was ready to unleash the building fury until she saw the familiar man flanked by several men in suits standing behind the doctor.
“Gabriel?” Elaina uttered through a trembling voice.
“Everyone, could you please give us a moment?” the handsome man requested.
Everyone in the room complied—even the two bodyguards.
As the man whose face she knew so well walked over to Elaina’s bedside, she dropped the mirror and clutched two handfuls of the bed linen in the palm of her hands.
“May I sit, Querida?” he questioned.
Elaina didn’t respond. Instead, she shook her head in disbelief as the machines monitoring her vital signs spiked. “Q-Querida,” she whispered. “Only Carlos called me ‘Querida.’”
She jumped back as he reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. He dipped his index and middle finger into the water and smeared them against his left temple. The water washed away some makeup on his face, revealing the small scar that Gabriel had left him on the schoolyard. Elaina knew that this was the sole and discrete differentiation between the twin brothers.
The alarms on Elaina’s heart monitor evidenced the recognition with a dramatic jump in frequency.
“Breath meu amor,”42 he instructed as he took her hand into his, comforting her.
Elaina’s chest rose and fell. “Como?” she asked, thinking that none of this could be real. “Este deve ser um inferno. Eu matei você—”43
“My love, it is me, your husband Carlos,” he said. He paused with apparent shame before continuing. “The day the police arrested you … well, it was Gabriel you shot, not me.”
Every alarm on her monitors went into a frenzy. Elaina’s eyes opened and closed sporadically.
“Doctor!” Carlos shouted.
Both doctors and their nurses rushed into the room and moved Carlos from the bed.
“She’s going to need another sedative,” the lead doctor ordered. “Only a moderate one, nurse. I need her calm but awake.”
The nurse pushed a small dose of sedative into Elaina’s IV, which caused her vitals to level out, along with the alarms. She felt groggy.
“Will she understand what I’m saying?” Carlos asked.
“Yes, sir,” the nurse replied. “She may not remember everything, but she can comprehend.”
Everyone left the room again. Elaina struggled to concentrate as Carlos took his place alongside the bed. With all the things that had happened to her over the past few weeks, the news that her husband Carlos was still alive was the most incredible.
“Elaina? Can you hear me?”
She nodded.
“I need you to pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you,” Carlos continued. “You need to understand that no one else has heard what I’m about to say, and you may never repeat it.”
“W-what, why?” Elaina said, confused.
“Focus, Elaina,” he urged. “With a revelation like this comes dire consequences to anyone who betrays its trust. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You killed my brother,” Carlos explained as he looked deep into her eyes, “the man you helped rise to the office of president of our beloved Brazil.”
The heart monitor acknowledged another spike in her heart rate, but it soon leveled out as the medication she’d been given reined it in.
“I’ve never been unfaithful to you, but I have been deceitful,” he confessed with a sad tone. “I loved my brother, and just as our father taught us, family is everything. It was no surprise to any of us when Gabriel rose as the leader of our country. But despite being loved by so many, he was not a perfect man. I was never strong enough to steer him away from the vices that led to his demise.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, shaking her head as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her.
He inched closer to Elaina and lowered his voice, talking closer to her ear.
“Meu amor, we’re all puppets upon their stage,” he admitted. “We’re manipulated by the strings they pull. Our freedom is a farce, peddled to us with smoke and mirrors.”
“You’re speaking in riddles,” Elaina said as she pulled away. “I don’t understand.”
Carlos looked over his shoulder at the closed door and lowered his voice to an even softer whisper. “What I can tell you will still leave you with many questions,” he said. “But I need you to listen first to what I have to say from beginning to end.”
Elaina nodded in agreement.
“As twin children, my brother and I made a habit of amusing ourselves by deceiving others to think I was my brother and he was me. It started as childish fun to pass the time, though we did sometimes use it to escape trouble or punishment. Never did I think this mischief would spill over into our adult lives.”
Elaina pulled her hand away.
“Meu amor, I’ve never betrayed the vows of our marriage,” Carlos said urgently with a slight tremble in his hand. “It was my brother who you discovered having affairs with these women.”
“All this time, I thought it was you sneaking around and lying to me,”
Elaina said in shock. “I thought you were with other women, but it was him?”
“Yes, and I’m so sorry, Elaina. Part of me wished that you had confronted me the moment you had doubts. We may have been able to prevent his death, your conviction, and me from continuing to live the lie. But the truth is that I should have been strong enough to tell my wife what was really going on. I should have honored you and the vows we took before Eloah.”
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Elaina chastised Carlos. “Why would you keep something like this from me?”
“You don’t understand, Elaina,” he protested, albeit weakly. “I couldn’t speak of it. Not to you or anyone.”
“You’re speaking of it now,” she rebuked, the fury rising in her heart. “Why is it okay now? After I’ve killed, been exiled? Do you know what happens to women there? Do you realize what I’ve seen, what I’ve done? Dear God, do you realize what that cursed city has done to me?”
“I don’t dare imagine what you’ve endured. I, uh, and, um—”
“Spit it out!” Elaina seethed. “Explain how it could ever make sense that I had to become a murderer before you could be honest with your wife.”
Carlos looked over his shoulder again and gestured for Elaina to lower her voice.
“Stop looking over there, Carlos! You look here and face what you’ve done!” she shouted.
He covered her mouth. “You can never say that name aloud,” he snapped back. “Not even when you think we’re alone. I’m Gabriel now. I want you to understand it all, but I can divulge only so much for now. My hands are tied, and they’ve allowed me to tell you only so much.”
Her brow furrowed. “Who the fuck is ‘they?’”
“‘The Society,’” Carlos blurted. “Gabriel and I have been members for some time now, and that’s all I can or will ever be able to tell you about it and its members.”
Elaina rolled her eyes. “The Society? You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“We are not to be taken lightly, Elaina,” Carlos said, his tone changing to one of authority and condescension that she had never seen in him. “I can’t deny the role you played in managing my brother’s campaigns,” he conceded. “Your assistance in his climb up the political ladder was flawless. But behind the scenes, where it mattered, the Society was pulling the strings that ensured Gabriel’s narrow victory. You ever wonder how Gabriel, a political nobody a few years before his first run at a political office, could declare his candidacy for such influential political offices and win? Year after year and term after term, his election to office never faltered.
