The Professor

by Rachel Renee

  “No pulse. Dammit,” comes from the man in charge.

  No pulse. Are they serious? How did this go so terribly wrong? There’s lots of movement, and then the naked body that ran across the room less than a minute ago is hoisted up by two men and carried through the room.

  “What just happened?” I know, I think, but I don’t want to believe it.

  “They shot Rubio. He’s dead.”

  “That can’t be right. No!” I stand, moving toward the screen like I’ll be able to see more of what is going on.

  The screen goes black and I turn to yell at Charlie for closing me off from my case. Charlie is not the one standing there with the remote in his hand.

  “Lieutenant.”

  “Cauley.”

  “This isn’t right. They killed him?”

  “Affirmative. T.O.D. 0100 hours. They tried to revive him but the bullet pierced his heart and once that was realized, there was nothing that could have been done.”

  “Santi.”

  “You have to shut it down, agent. This case is over.”

  “But it’s not.”

  “It is. He’s dead. Paolo Rubio was killed earlier this morning which closes out your mission.”

  “There are other people involved. Won’t they just continue on without him?”

  “They might, but that doesn’t concern you. You did your job and got the intel we needed to take down Paolo Rubio. His death was something that was planned for. There are other men to implicate in this and thanks to you and your team, we have many of them in custody already.”

  I fall back into the chair I was sitting in prior. This is not how this was supposed to come to an end. I’m not sure which is worse, having a father who is imprisoned in another country or dead, with no possibility of return? My thoughts go straight to Santi and what he must be experiencing because I’m sure he knows what has happened by now. After all, this was ten hours ago.

  “Shut it down. Those emotions need to be put in check. This is why we…”

  “I’ve got it, Lieutenant. Emotions are shut off.” Not really, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’ve got to put my Niccolo mask back on for just a little while longer. Play the part they hired me to play and pretend that the last two years were nothing but work. Make believe that I didn’t care about the people I was forced to befriend in the name of justice. Turn it all off until I can be on my own to grieve my first case. Grieve what I lost, celebrate what I’ve gained, but most importantly, learn what part it will play in the new life I will begin once I leave here.

  33

  Present Day

  If I could have seen the final look in Paolo Rubio’s eyes all those years ago, it would have been of surprise. Just as the look in mine are probably portraying that same emotion. If I had slept with Sophia the night I left, I would have thought twice about the fact that the two boys in front of me are mine, but I didn’t. The dark eyes tell me just who they belong to. My heart implodes, and I fall to my knees, feeling all the emotions I had bottled up over ten years ago.

  “It’s been a long time. I grieved and surrendered.”

  I look up at the beautiful woman standing above me, blotting out the sun. “I’m so sorry it ended the way it did. If he had survived…”

  “If he had survived, he’d be in prison and still not know that he has two sons.”

  I stand, adjusting myself so that I am staring into my old friend’s eyes. “Does Santi know?”

  “He thinks they are yours. He hates your guts for leaving us and never coming back.”

  “Good. Although that may complicate things when he finds out I’ve finally returned.”

  “You’ll have some major explaining to do. You have a good story to unfold?”

  “I do.” I can’t share it with her as she no longer works for the CIA. I can’t, no, I won’t involve her. Particularly because now that I know she has children, she should be as far away from danger as possible.

  “How often do you see Santi?”

  Her lips turn up slightly before she answers. “Oh, he comes by quite often.”

  “How often is often? Weekly, monthly…”

  “Few times a week.”

  “You talking about Uncle Santi?” the taller of the two steps forward.

  “Uncle?”

  “Yes.” Sophia answers her son and me with one word.

  “We are about to go see him. Want to come with us?”

  “I don’t know if that is such a good idea. Maybe next time?” I look down into the expectant eyes of the boy whose name I still have no clue.

  Sophia concurs. “Yeah. Another time, boys. Let’s let Nic settle in. Breakfast in the morning?”

  “Sure,” I answer. We’ve got some catching up to do.

  “Come down around 9:00.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  The boys drag the puppy and their things to a small car parked in front of where Charlie pulled in. I watch as they move, stuck in the trance that is Sophia. Charlie tugs on my shirt sleeve, pulling me in the direction of the trunk. I follow suit, grabbing my luggage out and heading toward the front door behind the man who is once again my faux father.

  It is so weird to be back, to walk through the entryway and up the stairs to the apartment I’d lived in my past. The first time I was Niccolo Esposito. I was such a fool back then, new to the job, to the CIA lifestyle. This time, I know to be more careful. It’s probably good that Santi and I won’t be close. He’s upset with me, probably more so than I imagined because he thinks I fathered those boys and Sophia never gave him any reason to not believe it.

  I can’t stop myself from thinking about them. Those boys. To grow up without a father, to never even get to meet their father is heartbreaking. The first time I see Santi can’t be when he’s around them. They cannot live under the illusion that I’m their dad. If I was, you better believe I’d take care of them. They aren’t mine and I want to find a way to help with their future.

  “I moved all my junk into my old room so you could have yours.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It didn’t feel right. Even when you weren’t here, I could hardly stand to sleep in there. It was like your ghost was present and I felt unwelcome.” Charlie shivers at the thought.

  “I’m alive and well.”

  “And I’m thankful for that. I don’t think I can accomplish this mission without you.”

  “In my opinion, this might be harder to complete than the first time. I don’t think there will be any luck getting close to Santi this time. I’m sure he despises me. How can he not?”

  “He’ll forgive you. He comes back looking for you, waiting for you to return.”

  “So he can kick my ass.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case. He truly cared about you and when you left and his father was killed, he became a broken man.”

  That thought doesn’t make me feel any better. There seems to be more casualties than just Paolo Rubio, if that’s the case. “Whatever happened to Santi’s mother? Did she ever come back?”

  “From what I gathered, she came back for a short stint but moved permanently out of Italy. Santi has been running the homestead all on his own. I think he started out legit, but that quickly turned the more sinister he became.”

  “Because of his father.”

  “Because of you and those boys.” Charlie plops himself down on my bed like what he said isn’t that big of a deal.

  “You can’t say that. It’s not my fault. Sophia should’ve come clean a long time ago. Santi would have known that those were his brothers.”

  “It would jeopardize so much.”

  “It could have prevented us from having to come back and stop the Rubio dynasty once more.”

  Charlie sighs, leaning back on his elbows. “We can’t be the ones to alert Santi to that fact. We have to get in and get out. No time for niceties.”

  I ignore that statement as I move around the room, putting some of my things away. Santi Rubi
o has fallen into his father’s footsteps. A shipment was intercepted from Italy to Afghanistan and what was thought to be American weapons going to American soldiers ended up being American weapons bought by Italians, sold to rebels, and sent to the forces fighting against the U.S. military.

  One of our men was alerted to a similar shipment, so when the one in question arrived, we had a man follow it, which is how we found out what was happening. It’s all about who has more money. Whoever can pay the arms dealers the most, wins. Meaning they get the weapons.

  How Santi is acquiring such weapons again is what we’re here to find out and stop. Our American soldiers need those weapons. They are being used against us, which is intolerable. In fact, those weapons were originally bought for our soldiers but somehow ended up in the wrong hands. We need to find out how and who, besides our man Santi Rubio, is involved. Just like the previous time, it has to be someone within our military forces fighting a war against his own country for a little bit of side cash. I hate to think that is the case, but corruption is everywhere, which is why I have a job.

  “Well, I’m going to let you settle in. We can grab some dinner later if you’re feeling up to it. Or, I can get something and bring it back.”

  Charlie finally got the hint that I was done talking, which I’m grateful for. I want to process my mission and iron out new details. Plus, I still need to finish reading my report and catching myself up on everything that is already known.

  “Dinner sounds great. I’ll just get situated and come find you.”

  “I’ll be around.” He smiles before pushing himself off the bed and heading toward the door. “By the way, I changed the sheets.”

  Chuckling, I thank the man just as he shuts the door. I hang the last of my clothes in the small closet, placing my suitcase under the bed before lying down on it. The case file is atop the covers so I grab it, opening the envelope and pulling out all of the contents. Knowing some of the players from the past is helpful. Although, it’s been a while, so it’s good to catch up on what I’ve missed.

  It hurts my heart just a little that Santi never settled down. I was so sure that he would eventually; he’d grow out of taking a new woman home every night. Apparently, that is not the case. There are multiple pictures of him with a different woman at his side in each. Another pitfall because of what happened with his father. I lay the notes on Santi down, rolling over and placing my back against the mattress.

  How am I going to complete this mission without allowing my emotions to get the better of me? I had hoped the passing of time would change my feelings, but being back here is proving that is going to be more difficult than imaginable. I have to prepare myself for seeing Santi again. It’s not going to be like old times. Last time, he wasn’t our perpetrator, just an innocent caught in the crosshairs. I can’t befriend him and assume he will come out of this mostly unscathed. The only thing that I will make certain of is that he is alive at the end of it. What happened to his father cannot happen to him, so I need to do whatever is in my power to keep him safe in that capacity.

  34

  My hands are sweaty as I reach the right one up to knock on Sophia’s door. I’m still stunned that she’s living in the same building that I left her in. I think back to all the things that I’ve done since the last time my hand touched this door and there’s not much that I can recall being the same.

  There’s screaming and the sound of a gym shoe sliding across the floor just on the other side. Suddenly, the door is opened and a short figure is peering over his long lashes up at me. “Mom said it would be you. Come in.”

  The boy grabs ahold of my hand, pulling me into the apartment, a sudden pang in my gut as the familiarity sinks in. Other than some new items that belong to the boys, Sophia hasn’t changed a thing about the place. It’s hard to take a good look at the pictures now adorning the walls with as quickly as the boy’s feet are moving through the entryway.

  Sophia pops around the corner, her hair in a terrible knot atop her head and no makeup on. She has an apron that was once white tied around her jeans and t-shirt, but a smile to stop the boy and me dead in our tracks. Sophia asks him if he introduced himself. It had been so long since I heard or even used Italian that it sounded so completely foreign to me. Not until he put his hand out for me to shake did I register what she had even said. “I’m Liam.”

  My eyes shoot to Sophia, who’s looking at me side-eyed with her lips turned up ever so slightly. “Nice to meet you, Liam.” I look back to the kid, shaking his hand and gazing into those dark eyes once more. Naming this boy after me is not going to make this mission easier. Why would she do that?

  “Liam, where is your brother? Go find him and tell him breakfast is almost ready.”

  The boy finally lets go of me, running in the direction of the bedrooms.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

  Turning, I stare at my old friend once more. “Beautiful as always,” I tell her, pulling her into an embrace.

  She scoffs before I feel the expansion of her chest as she sniffs my shirt for just a moment. It was kind of weird but since she didn’t make a big deal about it, neither will I. “You going to explain that to me?”

  “No explanation needed. I couldn’t come up with another name so I thought, hey, Liam is as good as any.” Looking her straight in the eye, I wait for her tell but she doesn’t do it. Her lip stays perfectly still.

  “It’s not even an Italian name.”

  “My good friend is not Italian.” She’s smiling now, pulling herself away and back toward the kitchen.

  “What’s the other boy’s name?”

  “He will introduce himself to you when he arrives.” Her back is turned so I have no idea what the look on her face says.

  As if on cue, the two boys come running full speed in my direction, stopping just short of plowing me over. Out of breath, but still polite as the first, the taller of the two, the one that looks most like a Rubio, stretches his arm out. “Hey, I’m Paul. Nice to meet you, Niccolo.”

  My eyes widen. Did she not think that someone would figure that out? And, why in the world did she give them non-Italian names? If she planned to live here the rest of her life, why not blend in a little more by allowing her sons to don a native name?

  “Boys, come in here and help me carry breakfast to the table.”

  “Oh, here, let me help.” Her voice brings me back and shakes me up all at the same time.

  After setting the last of the breakfast items on the table, Sophia pulls me aside and whispers, “What would have been, if I had chosen a different life. My love and my friend who taught me so much in such a short amount of time.”

  My head is shaking to and fro as I take my seat at the table. There’s space enough for the four of us, what could have been a family had Sophia made some different choices. Sophia reaches over, grabbing my hand in what I believe to be comfort, but instead, Liam begins to pray and I realize the touch is just in tradition. When I open my eyes once more, Sophia is grinning and so I do the same. Who am I to judge the life she has created for herself?

  The breakfast conversation includes the boys asking me fifty questions about my life. Investigating all of my tattoos and asking the meanings of each one. I got a new one each time I went somewhere different or started a new mission. There’s meaning to each black, intricate piece. My entire left arm is covered, from shoulder to wrist in the different lives I’ve lived, or roles I’ve played. Reminders of where I’ve been and how I’ve gotten to where I am today. I try to answer the boys the best I can without giving myself away and they seem satisfied with my answers. Once they believe I’ve thoroughly responded to that line of questioning, they demand my opinion on video games and movies, specifically ones they enjoy. At no point do Sophia and I converse, but I know it will come in time. After the boys have finished with me.

  Breakfast was delicious and even though I spent a lot of time talking, I was able to completely stuff myself with the pancakes and sausage, frui
t bowl and coffee that was provided. Sophia starts to get up to clear the table but I look to the boys who are off on a tangent about a game I have never heard of and say, “Let’s clean up the kitchen for mom.”

  They pause momentarily, looking back and forth between me and their mother. I’m not sure they have ever been asked to help in the kitchen before.

  “No, Nic. I’ve got it.”

  I look at the boys who have directed their attention back to me. “You can tell me all about Call of Duty while we take care of the dishes.” I grab up the plates that are stacked at the end of the table. The boys look to each other, shrug, and then start piling up other empty items into their arms. Sophia looks defeated, albeit relieved all at the same time. Her shoulders fall but she moves to the other room without arguing with me over my actions.

  The three of us boys work well together in the kitchen. I do the washing and they do the drying and putting away since they know where everything goes. I only have to remind them a couple of times to stay on task because they are so enthralled with explaining this game to me they stop to act out certain scenes. It has been a while since I played a video game but this one sounds like something I could enjoy.

  After finishing, I tell the boys they will have to show me their game sometime but right now I want to catch up with their mom. I don’t know what the rules are, but I ask the boys if they’d mind playing video games for a while so their mom and I could talk. Their eyes widen and so do their mouths which makes me think that they might be getting away with something.

  I walk into the living room, to the comfy couch of my memories. It’s well-worn now, and a few holes, probably from the boys, have been sewn up. The color is faded but overall, it’s still standing which is probably a feat with two boys and a dog living in the house. I have yet to see the puppy, but when Sophia reappears, the yapping creature is in tow.

  “What’s the puppy’s name? Santi?” I tease.

  “Haha. No, her name is Gretel.”