The Professor

by Rachel Renee

  My heart is beating out of my chest. Does he know? I breathe in and out inconspicuously before I turn my body so that I can look directly at him. “Yes. I had no idea.” The lie comes out as easy as the truth. “Charlie and I had planned to leave days before. There were so many times I wanted to tell you, to tell Sophia, but I cared too much. And,” I add, “at the time, I thought I’d come back. I thought that Charlie would heal or he wouldn’t but then I would return. He loves it here as much as I do, but life got in the way for so long. We are here now. I’m sorry that it took so long.”

  Santi’s jaw is clenched and so are the fingers of his right hand. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was going to rear back and clock me in the jaw. There is a battle waging inside his mind. Should he believe me? I want to tell him no, I’m lying. But, I can’t be honest with him about this, as much as I want to.

  “Why now? The truth,” he seethes through gritted teeth.

  “I told you. This is it for Charlie. He wanted to return one last time. To the place he fell in love, to the country he found his son.” I hope like hell that all my training can keep me from flinching.

  I don’t avert my glare and neither does Santi. He’s sizing me up, probably hoping he can catch my dishonesty. I’m staring unblinkingly, hoping the truth doesn’t actually seep out. Finally, Santi’s demeanor slackens, his fist unclenches, and his hand reaches out to touch the top of mine.

  “It just seems like such a coincidence. And a miracle, all in one. The first few years, I just knew you’d come back. After five, I kept thinking that maybe you would. Just recently, I told myself we’d never see you again, then here you are. My friend is back and now he can raise his sons instead of me.”

  I don’t mean to look away, but my eyes drop to the hand upon mine. I slip my own out from underneath. “Those boys don’t know me. And”—my eyes dart back up to Santi’s—“my life is not here.”

  “You would leave them now that you know?” His anger is boiling over once more. “Well, that’s what you do, right? You leave those who need you the most!” He’s yelling through clenched teeth.

  My eyes train on his again. “You don’t know anything about me, Santi. This is way more complicated then you could ever imagine.”

  “Tell me, Nic. Enlighten me to your plight.”

  I exhale, but a small laugh leaves my mouth along with it. “I’m not doing this with you. One day you will understand.”

  “I will never.” With that, he turns back to the road, puts the car in drive, and pulls out into the vacant street.

  He won’t ever understand, and that is the God’s honest truth. He will hate me more at the end of this than he ever thought he could hate a person. I can no longer look at him so my glare turns to the window. The countryside is filled with vast open land. Sprawling hills and blue skies round out the setting that I’m gazing at as the car speeds along. I’m angry at myself for letting this get out of hand. If I hadn’t built a relationship with Santi and Sophia the first time, this mission would be so easy. I could have snuck into his home and planted the cameras and bugs that Charlie did. I could have been surveillance only, if this had played out differently way back when. Instead, I’m stuck playing a role that is filled with emotions that are unwarranted but draining nonetheless. This is not going to end well. The anger that Santi feels now will only increase. The tenderness that I feel toward my friend is only going to drag me down if I can’t keep it under wraps.

  I’ve been told I’m too soft. When I think about the people who’ve been hurt or died under my hands, that statement makes me laugh. Then, when I get thrust into a situation such as I’m in now, I understand how people can say that about me. Human emotions are real and raw and dangerous. Especially in this line of work. We are trained to shut them off, but for me, that happens to be the hardest part of the job. How do you stop yourself from feeling?

  The rolling hills give way to the large mountain range in this area. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Soon,” is his answer.

  I’m not sure what soon is, but I’m feeling much better about the fact that I brought my gun with me this morning. The last thing I want to do is shoot Santi, but since I have no idea what he has in store for me, I need to be prepared. He could be taking me out here to kill and dispose of me because I will not bend to his will. That I cannot allow to happen. If it’s him or me, it will definitely be him. My mind turns cold so suddenly and I have to shake the thoughts from it.

  The road narrows as we turn off the main thoroughfare. Trees increase, as does my heartrate. I press my back against the leather seat just to feel the metal dig into my back. I can have my weapon drawn in a split second if need be. The car slows about a mile into our trek. When a house appears in view, Santi speaks.

  “The government did not know about this place, so they didn’t take it. My father’s home away from home. Actually, it was my mother’s. In her family for generations. I want to offer it to you.”

  “Santi, no.”

  His eyes are narrowed to slits. “If you choose to stay, you could have it. Do with it as you please.”

  “I could never take this from you.” What is he thinking? He can bribe me to stay?

  “You can and you will. It is a perfect spot to raise a family. I should know, I spent a lot of time here when I was younger.”

  “You should raise your family here,” I tell him.

  “No, too many memories that haunt me when I’m here. Plus, I don’t plan to have a family. You have a ready-made one waiting for you. All you have to do is say yes.”

  “Santi…” How can I make him see?

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just know that this is here for you, for Sophia, if you should want to use it.”

  I could argue. Better yet, refuse. That’s not how I respond, however. “Thank you,” I tell Santi. “For offering up such a beautiful home to me.” The phrase, ‘I will never live here,’ stays hidden.

  “As soon as you say the words, I will clear this place for you. I’ve tried to work from here, but thoughts of my father and mother preoccupy me to no end. I can’t bear to sell it, but I also can no longer consider living in it.” I see the moment the anger dissipates, Santi’s chest rising and falling, decreasing with each passing moment. If he thinks I will consider such an offer, he will be happy. There is no reason to tell him otherwise. I’ve gotten myself this far into the game, and I will continue to perform like the monkey I am until I have what I need to end the charade.

  The culmination is going to be much uglier than the last time, but I will follow this through completion and there is nothing that my government will do to keep me from that this go around.

  39

  A couple of weeks pass with no new evidence against Santi and the allegations that are being brought against him. Between me and Charlie, someone is always watching the footage being broadcast from his home, and the information being shared across the Internet from his computer. I spend time with Sophia and the boys or Santi, but I try to keep those times separate. So far, it has seemed to work to keep them apart, for the majority of the time. Santi doesn’t mention our little trip again, which I’m thankful for.

  As the days trickle by, I begin to wonder about it, though. It’s possible that he works from there. He admitted that he struggles to be there, which makes me think he could still be using the space for something. Maybe to conduct business since the government is unaware of its presence.

  Charlie and I plan to take a little trip of our own. Santi didn’t bother to show me around inside when we went. After a short stint of conversation, he turned the car around and brought us back to the city. That was the last we spoke of it. If Charlie and I can plant some wiretaps in the cottage, maybe we might find what we’ve been looking for.

  Monday morning, we set out. My fingers are crossed that I remember exactly where this place is. I didn’t want to throw Santi on our trail by asking him for the address. And I’m hopeful that he will not be there wh
en we arrive. He hadn’t yet stirred from sleep when Charlie and I checked the computer before leaving. We will at least have a head start. Getting in and out as quickly as possible is the plan. Charlie and I do have a backup if needed; prepared for whatever we may face.

  My memory serves me well and directs us to the cottage without fail. I stop the car within the tree line, just in case, and leave the keys in the glove box for a quick exit, should we need it. Silently, the two of us stand just outside our car doors and listen for any signs of other humans. There’s some slight crackling of branches as the wind whips through the trees, birds sing, and small feet scamper, but there aren’t any noises that don’t belong to Mother Nature.

  The two of us move slowly in the direction of the rather large cottage. Its immaculate landscape reminds us that people could arrive at any moment so we need to move quickly. Charlie checks windows and I proceed to the front door. If it were unlocked, it would have made things too easy. There are no stones for hidden keys and actually, there isn’t even a hole for a key to fit into. This door is fitted with keypad entry and the only way to break through is to try my luck at inputting numbers. I think back to all that I know of Santi, even of Paolo and start trying four-digit pins. After keying all that I remember, the thought that Europeans date things differently than Americans do enters. I try the birthdates in a different order. BINGO!

  There is a small click and then the doorknob is easily turned. “I’m in,” I call out to Charlie who is out of eyesight. I leave the door ajar for him and enter. My movements are slow and calculated as I peer around for signs of cameras or other devices that could be recording my visit.

  The house is well-furnished, couches, chairs, and tables, paintings on the walls, and knickknacks on shelves throughout. The stark-white kitchen is fully stainless on appliances and black marble on countertops, and it’s also equipped with any item a chef would desire. Whoever decorated spared no expense on the lavish furnishings adorning this home.

  I search each room, checking for people but also for any clues to be used in our case. When I get to the last room in the back of the house, I find myself standing in front of a locked door. My lock-picking skills come in handy, getting the door open within moments. Inside is a large mahogany desk, a laptop computer, and a few pieces of paper lie on the top. There is one swivel chair behind the desk, but the rest of the room is empty. Nothing on the walls or stacked atop the built-in shelving. If Santi is using this place for business, this must be where I’ll find what I need.

  Taking the device Charlie equipped me with, I open the laptop and start booting it up to install the application. There are footsteps creeping slowly down the hallway, and I pause momentarily to see if it’s my partner. Charlie peeps around the corner, giving me a thumbs up before pointing to the corner of the room where he plans to put a camera. It is amazing to me how something so small can be so powerful and capture an entire room’s movements.

  I work on the laptop, downloading the application and uploading the computer information on the pin drive, while Charlie prepares the tiny camera. Once in place, it blends seamlessly into the corner, and if you weren’t looking closely, you’d never notice it. After the laptop application is loaded and hidden amongst other files, I close the computer back down, shutting the lid and arranging it in the same fashion I found it in. Before leaving the room, I check the desk drawers and find each of them empty, not even a pen or piece of paper left behind.

  Charlie plants more cameras around the house. One camera facing the entrance, and one at the back door before we shut up the front and walk quickly in the direction of the parked car that is awaiting us. The whole process took less than ten minutes and we did it in complete silence.

  “Anything useful?”

  “Not in plain sight,” I answer. “How about you?”

  “Some footprints leading up to the back door and then away from it. Doesn’t mean a thing, except we know someone uses it, which is why I put a camera on it.”

  “There was food in the refrigerator but most was out of date, so I don’t know if anyone has stayed there in a while.”

  “Guess we will find out if anyone comes by.” Charlie gives me another thumbs up when I look in his direction.

  Upon entering the car, Charlie immediately starts playing with the application he has on his phone which hooks him into the camera feeds. I drive us back toward the city, sitting in silence while he works his magic. Halfway through the drive, I’m bored and start thinking about what else we can be doing to move this along.

  “We need to get bank records to see where money is coming from and where it is going. I requested them, but haven’t gotten a response from headquarters.”

  “Moretti was always good with that stuff. Too bad he isn’t around to help us.”

  “Yeah. Too bad. He was a little too careless for my liking,” I add.

  “Got himself killed. He wasn’t the first agent to get caught, and won’t be the last,” Charlie inputs. “You know, I may be able to get those records.”

  “I can try and log into banks that his father was known to have kept his money. If I look through the rest of the files from his computer, I might be able to find some account numbers.”

  “I tried.” Charlie sighs, clicking his phone screen off and leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t come across anything like that.”

  “Maybe it’s all on the cottage laptop.”

  “That is possible. His father got caught at the estate and since the cottage was unknown, it is feasible that he thought the information would be more secure there.”

  “Guess I know what we will be doing this afternoon.”

  “You got it.” Charlie points a finger in my direction.

  The two of us grab some lunch on the way home, a couple of deli sandwiches from a shop just outside the city. We upload all of the information we gathered into our computers while scarfing our food down and drinking a couple of sodas. After lunch, Charlie gets comfortable on the leather couch, but I take my laptop up to the rooftop terrace to spend the early hours of the evening enjoying the heat of the sun.

  Scouring the files of the laptop is tedious but by the time the sun is setting, it was well worth it. Bank files were uncovered as well as transaction history files and a few other interesting tidbits. There were a couple of things that are off to me and I want to run the information by Charlie before I proceed. Closing up the laptop feels good, but also retrospective. I want to keep working, but I need to update Charlie and get a bite to eat.

  It feels weird to not have seen Santi or Sophia today. It’s the first since I’ve arrived that I haven’t seen one or the other. Charlie is sitting on a stool in the kitchen when I enter the living area. The smell of garlic hits my nose and my mouth starts salivating.

  “You cooking something?”

  “I ordered in. Threw it in the oven to keep it warm.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Easy and does the job.” He smiles.

  I open the oven and take the cardboard box from it, the garlic smell stronger than it was moments ago. The gooey goodness inside has my mouth watering, so I grab myself a slice, careful not to let the sauce drip onto my shirt, and take a huge bite.

  “Want a piece?” I ask Charlie after I chew and swallow.

  He stands, reaching over the countertop and grabs himself a slice. “I’ve uncovered the bank info we were looking for.”

  “I saw it too. A couple of accounts were still in Paolo’s name. Can’t believe those weren’t acquired from the CIA years ago during the initial takedown.” I continue to chow down on my pizza as we chat.

  “Maybe they were unknown.”

  “Most likely. I can’t imagine that Santi would open them up in his father’s name. There were recent transactions in each account, though. One was a deposit, the other a withdrawal.”

  “A substantial deposit in the one,” Charlie adds before stuffing the last of his pizza into his mouth.

  “Did you look through the check de
posit slips?”

  “No. I’m guessing you did.”

  “I did,” I answer. “Found something interesting too.” I open my laptop up, retrieving the file I put aside just to show Charlie. “Look at this, dated two years ago.”

  Charlie looks at the screen. “Yeah. What about it?”

  “Hold on.” I open another screen and show him a second document. “A couple of months later. And then all these recent ones on this other account.” I pull up one more screen.

  I watch Charlie’s face as his eyes shrink and widen. “You have any other instances?”

  I smile. “You know it.” I pull up each different file, placing them in order. “If I hadn’t been looking for it, I would have missed it completely. It is so slight, but it is definitely different.”

  “I see that.” Charlie’s fingers scan from one side of the screen to the other, his eyes following suit. “The signatures from this account are just slightly different than the ones from this.” He taps on the letters from the right. “Those R’s, the curve is, well, not curved.”

  “And the S in Santi, the signatures on the left have a little tail at the bottom.”

  “Someone is forging his signature.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. But who? Why?”

  Charlie looks up from the screen, staring at me for a split second and then moving to the other side of the counter to grab more pizza. We are quiet as he eats his second slice.

  “Maybe it is just someone who works for him?” I finally come up with. “Could be something that simple. It’s an account he doesn’t want to be seen dealing with so he sends someone else to deposit money.”

  “These are electronic funds deposits.” Charlie points to the screen once more. “Meaning, no one had to physically be at the bank to put the money inside.”

  “Okay, then that scenario doesn’t make sense. What does?”

  “It still could be someone working for Santi. Let’s look into this some more. Maybe we’ll be able to see who uses the cottage computer besides Santi. Whoever it is may be working from there instead of at the Rubio estate.”