Anna thought it best for Nontawat to wait alone with the girls. The religious folks already knew him, no reason to expose ourselves. Back in our streetside cubbyhole we watched the pickup unfold. Anna explained the church folks were very active and well versed in smuggling kids out of harm’s way. “They will take care of them, they have before.” I looked at her in disbelief. This was clearly not her first rodeo.
The kids quietly moved to a pair of vans parked in the alley and were gone. Nontawat stayed behind to tidy up a couple of things before catching up with Anna and me. As we walked together, Anna put her arm beneath mine and with a big smile said, “Let’s take a little stroll.” We had almost reached our destination when policemen ran by and the sounds of emergency vehicle sirens were coming closer. I wondered if the grisly killing had been discovered. Anna looked at Nontawat, who smiled and said, “I think it on fire.” It was a dry wood structure. Undoubtedly extremely flammable, creating an intensely hot fire, and it would be gone in minutes. There would be no saving the structure or preserving the crime scene.
We didn’t dally on Walking Street; there was nothing there for us. We arrived back at the resort and Nontawat was invited to stay. He declined, saying, “I have work to do at doctor’s home.” We still had a couple of days on our suite reservations and we made the best of it.
I rehashed some of the boondoggle effect, but Anna disagreed and felt it went smoothly. “How many times have you done something like this?” I asked. Her answer provided a lot of wiggle room. “Never,” she replied, “Nothing is ever the same. It was an answer within a reply that didn’t reveal anything. I felt other questions would receive similar responses so I put a sock in it.
Over the next couple of days I watched Anna pore over the documents she had gathered from the bar. I sucked down some fruity libations and caught a few rays. The morning arrived for us to catch our flight. Things progressed as they had for the entire trip; Anna had taken care of everything. All I needed to do was board the plane, except my ticket was wrong.
“Anna, my ticket says my flight is to Leonardo da Vinci airport; that’s in Rome.”
Anna responded as if she were surprised. “So it does!”
Anna looked at her ticket and exclaimed, “Mine does too—I guess we’re going to Italy!”
I saw the smirk, but it wasn’t that funny.
In a more serious tone Anna said, “I have someone I’d like you to meet. His name is Maximillian. I think you’ll find him interesting.” Anna paused, “No more questions for now.”
That was easier said than done. I closed my eyes, leaned my head back, and waited to see what tomorrow would bring.
Chapter 18
It was a new dawn
—Walter
Anna and I sat quietly on the plane from Thailand to Rome. I occasionally interrupted her silence with idle chatter about anything that came to mind but my travel companion was not buying in. This was out of character for her. She was a warm-hearted individual with an outgoing and friendly personality. She liked to talk and carried a conversation even when I wasn’t interested and less than receptive to discourse. Now, the shoe was on the other foot. It felt like we were breaking the ice all over again. Anna’s focus was clearly on something else. I sensed whatever it was directly involved me and the outcome would either be a deal clincher or deal breaker as far as our relationship went.
In fairness, I was preoccupied as well. Anna was not the person she appeared to be. I had thought of her as a fragile socialite journalist seeking adventure close up and personal. The emerging truth was quite different. She was a well-connected professional killer. The knife work in Pattaya spoke loudly; she was cold, smooth, and deliberate.
As we deplaned at Leonardo da Vinci–Fiumicino Airport, Anna once again led the way through the processing maze of customs. I decided to pamper myself with a local beverage while Anna busied herself securing our in-country travel arrangements. I was in Rome or at least close to Rome. The history I’d read about in school was all around me. I wanted to see it for myself, but when Anna returned with more tickets in hand, the bombshell followed, “We have about an hour before we board the flight, Walter.”
“Where to now?” I asked in a whiny tone. “I thought we were visiting Rome.”
“Have you ever heard of Bellagio?”
Thinking for a moment I responded matter-of-factly, “Yeah, In Vegas.”
Anna frowned and hesitated before continuing. I surmised she was trying to figure out if I was being sarcastic or if I was indeed ignorant of northern Italy. Her response indicated she had settled for the latter. “It’s a beautiful village on Lake Como. You’ll love it; it’s nestled in the foothills of the Alps near the border of Switzerland.”
“How long is this trip going to take?” I was back to whining again.
Anna responded tersely, “Get used to the idea—Bellagio is where we will be staying for the next few days.”
It was about an hour’s flight to Milan on a twin-engine puddle jumper. From there we hopped a train to Como, which was another half hour’s trip on public transportation. By this point we had been traveling or waiting on the next connection to travel for nearly thirty hours. I found myself willing to settle for a hammock and a couple of trees, but there was no stopping Anna. She was bound and determined to reach Bellagio before nightfall. It wasn’t clear to which day’s end she was referring.
Arriving at Como, Anna and I took the covered escalators down to the piazza level, where she quickly acquired more tickets. With the fare paid, Anna snagged my arm and gently coerced my compliance to walk across the piazza to the pier on Lake Como and the awaiting hydrofoil. Seated on the foil, sarcasm slipped past my better judgment. “When we get off the boat, we don’t have to ride a mule to a hilltop, do we?” She dismissed my remark without comment.
Passengers, most of whom had been with us on the train, loaded onto the boat and we were soon underway. The trip was incredibly scenic and relaxing. So much so, I napped most of the way. I thought hydrofoils were really fast boats but when they stop every ten minutes at some little lakeside village port on the way to Bellagio, it seemed like a long time. About an hour later we reached our destination. “We will catch a taxi to the villa where we are staying,” Anna said. That was music to my ears.
Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni, a five-star luxury hotel, was without doubt the most elegant accommodations I’d ever seen, not to mention stayed in. It appeared a little too upscale for the likes of me. I was comfortable with the pools and spas, even the ritzy restaurant and bar, but the clientele was a bit cultured for my blood. I had an immediate distrust for the lot of them.
Additionally troubling was the necessity to meet in such a place. Although I was not flipping the bill for this shindig, I questioned the reasons why someone might pay for this hoopla just for the sake of a meeting. If they thought there was a need to impress me, this was not it.
Evening descended into nightfall by the time we were escorted to a luxurious two-bedroom suite. It had been two long days of continuous travel without rest and we were dead tired. A bath and bed seemed in order. My head no sooner hit the pillow than I was cast into a desolate dream world. Before me I saw a cave with a large stone lying against it. A light shown deep within the cavern and I was profoundly moved within. A familiar figure emerged as a brilliant light and a voice spoke to me. “Your path of fulfillment lies before you. You will achieve your destiny.”
I spoke to my spirit guide, “Why did you leave me on my own in Thailand? I looked for your presence and you were nowhere to be found.”
“Scythian, you have never been alone in your quest. As for me, I will abide in your heart and dwell with you always.” At that moment, Destiny stretched forth her hands from the light and we became as one. A burning in my bosom spoke to me of her dwelling within.
The next morning I arose prepared to embrace my calling. Anna’s plan for the day was a sightseeing tour of Bellagio. That sounded really great, except it avoided the purpos
e of our visit. I was psyched for action. Anna’s plan seemed more like a chore than a pleasure. Anna tried to excite me about the village with talk of climbing stairs and visiting souvenir shops—at least that was all I heard and it wasn’t working for me.
Bellagio, settled snugly on a peninsula separating two legs of Lake Como, was a majestic union of land, water and sky. The hilly, picturesque landscape topped with snow-capped alpine peaks and a cool, brisk northern wind offered up a level of comfort only Mother Nature can provide.
We spent the afternoon hiking staircase alleyways and visiting pastry shops. I was taken in more by the Romanesque architecture, ornamental flowerbeds and century-old parks, than the touristy shops. It was a step back in time and a refreshing experience. Anna promised we would have time to visit the villas, palazzos, and chapels dotted around the lake, but first there was an agenda we could not ignore. She didn’t come right out and say it that way but then again, she hadn’t made plans for tomorrow.
Later in the evening Anna and I dined at the Grand Hotel. I decided on a taste of local cuisine, Risotto al Pesce Persico while Anna went a bit more Mediterranean. The atmosphere was romantic and our conversation was flowing smoothly. I had something I wanted to talk about with Anna, but I didn’t know how to bring up the subject of our relationship. Before I was able to articulate my thoughts, Anna brought up the reason we were here—business.
“We won’t make plans for tomorrow. Maximillian will be here and he insists on meeting you.”
“Why am I meeting him, Anna, who is he?”
“I’ll let him explain tomorrow. He is a wonderful man with a big heart. I think you will like him. He is your type of people.”
My type of people—what is my type of people? I didn’t know I had a type. Her words were intended to disarm my concerns, but they did little to alleviate my apprehensions. I’d learned not to question Anna. She was tight-lipped with a poker face. I couldn’t read her expressions, mood, or get anything out of her if she was not willing to divulge it. When she did answer a question, it usually led to more questions that she wouldn’t answer.
I was up early the next morning anxiously awaiting Max’s arrival. Around noon Anna prepared to leave the suite with a briefcase. She was dressed to kill, very sophisticated and professional in appearance.
“Be a dear and stay here, Walter; I want to be able to reach you when I need to.”
A couple of hours passed without contact with Anna. A curious mixture of concern and boredom was setting in and my mood was souring. When the call came in from Anna my countenance immediately rebounded. She was short and to the point, “I’ll be there soon.”
Minutes later I heard a knock at the door. Not expecting anyone knocking at my suite, I opened the door slowly in such a way as to block the door swing with my foot. To my surprise it was Anna accompanied by an elderly gentleman, tall, with a slender build and wide bright smile.
“Come in, uh, come right on in.” I hated using “uh” but sometimes it slipped out. In the days of debating with Teddy Bear at the factory, he would make fun of me by saying, uh, uh, uh, like I was stuttering, although I had uttered “uh” only once. Now I’m self-conscious about saying it, so as soon as I did, my thought process froze up and I couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. Anna sensed I was embarrassed; she lifted her hand and touched my cheek as she passed by me on her way into the room. The elderly man walking with the assistance of a cane stopped abruptly in front of me, extending his right hand while introducing himself.
“Ello, I’m Maximillian Karnage, pleased to meet you finally.”
“Pleasure is mine, sir, I’m Walter.”
With a sparkling in his eyes, he stated rather emphatically, “Yes, of course you are,” as if he knew differently. He proceeded to lay his overcoat and hat on a chair by the entry and made his way into the parlor. Some might not have noticed, but Walter picked up on it right away, Max already knew the way to the parlor. He had been in this room before. Anna joined us in the parlor a few minutes later. She placed a call to room service ordering hors d’oeuvres and wine. My best guess was this wasn’t her first time hosting a meeting with our guest either.
Maximillian impressed me as a traditional English noble or at least what I thought one would be like. He was stylish in appearance and his manners were dignified. He acted like a blue-blooded aristocrat, but then again, don’t we all act?
“Anna tells me you have a particular niche that I find fascinating.”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to.”
“Well, Anna has kept me well informed of your—shall we say—activities. Let’s not be shy, we likely have many of the same goals.”
Thinking for a moment and watching Anna’s head nodding yes in response to his question, I felt assured I could talk freely, “I hunt and kill bad people. It’s that simple.” Such a proclamation with most people would have a shocking effect. I didn’t see it in his face.
Maximillian, leaning forward in a rosewood Victorian parlor chair, both hands clasped on the top of his cane, “Yes, tell me, is it a personal vendetta? Do you kill for revenge? Tell me man, which is it?”
“I wouldn’t call it personal. Revenge is not the motivator for me. I am called to intercede for the victims. I do what they can’t do for themselves. I avenge in their stead.”
Max was digesting how I saw myself. He sat quietly with a distant look in his eyes.
I continued, “The people I kill are guilty of unspeakable atrocities and deserve nothing less than death. I’m at odds with the justice system and have made myself an enemy of law enforcement. I’ve been accused by the media for masquerading as an angel while doing the devil’s work.
Neither is true, yet, both are; it is a matter of perspective.”
“You undoubtedly have a set of guiding principles.”
“My crusade is against those who violently assault and abuse the innocent, weak, young, or elderly. I have no remorse for my actions.”
Maximillian, in a loud, sturdy voice said, “Marvelous, that is, simply splendid! I want you to consider a proposal, Walter. I want you to consider a more epic adventure than that which you have been undertaking. Are you game?”
“Absolutely.” I’ve never thought of executing people as an adventure, but I was all ears.
“Alright then, let’s have a listen to what Anna has.” Leaning back in the lounge chair, I listened intently while Anna conducted her review of the Thailand escapade. She laid out the papers from her briefcase in a few small stacks. Feller’s involvement in the child sex industry was clearly revealed. “He was a minor league player,” Anna said, “looking to move into the majors.” According to the documents, he was an importer, buying children on the black market like a cattle buyer purchasing livestock for a feeder lot. Anyone who bankrolled an operation like he had, expected a handsome return on their investment. This required a clientele willing to pay top dollar for the services he had to offer. The papers in Anna’s possession were confirmations of his connection with prominent business professionals from around the globe. When Anna concluded her presentation, Maximillian exclaimed angrily, “Ruddy beggar!” He shook his head saying, “He was a blighter—well, good show then, the network is interrupted for now.”
“Isn’t someone else just going to fill the void?” I asked of whoever might answer.
Maximillian turned his attention toward me. “Yes, I suppose so. All the same, we won’t be deterred from this course of action. With godspeed we will disrupt these beasts’ abilities to continue their diabolical businesses.”
Turning his attention back to Anna, he thanked her for the evening and bid her adieu. “I’ll contact Nontawat concerning the names you have here,” Max said, “It’s likely they will look for another source in his country. We may be able to make a real mess of things yet.”
Anna replied, “I’ll make sure the others have the client names as well. They may be able to turn the tables on them in their own countries.”
“Right then, it’s nearly eight o’clock.” Maximillian rose from his chair and finished his glass of wine. “Walter, walk with me to the door, if you will.”
The elderly gentleman paused by the door to pick up his overcoat and hat. “I’ll leave you in Anna’s company. We do not offer fame or fortune, just opportunity.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“Yes, well Anna will have to mentor you. I’m sure she can answer all your questions. Till tomorrow then.”
I opened the door to the hall before saying goodbye.
“Thank you Max—May I call you Max?”
“I prefer Maxmillian if you will.” He smiled and proceeded slowly down the hallway.
Returning to the parlor, Anna was waiting for me. “Now you can ask questions. You probably have a lot of them.” She sighed. Oddly, for the moment, only one question came vividly to mind, “Who are you?”
For the next few hours, Anna opened doors of understanding into her life. “I belong to an organization, some would call it a secret society but that sounds so medieval. We are a select group with a unique mission. Our order is modeled after the Palatini Knighthood. The name means freelancers. In the earlier centuries during the height of Italian nobility and aristocracy, Knights took on roles of protection and guardianship for their country. Palatini were champions of the people. They were paragons of virtue, chivalrous, and heroic, with a bond of righteous principles.”
“So you’re knights?”
“The original Palatini took the Praetorian Guards’ place in Rome and were absorbed into the Vatican. We are the resurrection of the order. We respect our oath of guardianship and much like you; we are professional freelance assassins who bring righteous judgment on the guilty. Our society is well organized and well financed for our missions. We simply refer to ourselves as Palatini.”
“Is your name really Anna?” She probably didn’t think my question was sincere from the grimace on her face, but I really wanted to know. ”Yes and you know my Palatini name as well, Archangel. Now, let’s move on.”
Due Process Page 25
