by L. T. Ryan
At least, they could do something like that in the States. I had no idea about here. Even if Alik could pull it off, what were the chances he would have managed a flight over so quickly? I was alone. Isolated. On my own.
“Where is the rest of the money?” the old guy said.
“That’s all he’s got,” I said.
“You know what this means?”
“That was the original deal, right? Twenty grand on a set schedule.”
“He missed too many payments on that schedule.”
“The guy lost his wife. And he’s your friend. Old friend, been through a lot together. He’s entitled to a little leeway, right? I mean, damn, he’s giving up what he’s got left.”
Someone behind me cleared their throat. Soft and gentle. Almost missed it. Isadora. Had it been one of the guys it would have cut through the moment of silence like thunder.
Kostas shook his head slowly, smiling. “You sit there so smug. Think you know everything.”
“What don’t I know?”
“The only thing you don’t know that matters is that Esau sold you out. He set you up. Sure, you might pull it off. Or you might die. Doesn’t matter to him.”
“It’s all he’s got.”
“He’s got the house. The cafe.”
“You want those?”
The old guy sat in his chair and leaned back like he was thinking about it. A couple times he asked himself, “Do I want those?”
The atmosphere in the room was heavy. Big shadows moved through the light wash. The door opened. I couldn’t tell if people shuffled in and stopped by the doorway, or if they shuffled out. All that was left was the sound of our breathing. The stink of the men. The fragrance of Isadora’s hair.
I tensed my abdominal muscles, clenching hard. The pain was manageable. I looked over at Isadora. She stared at me. No tears. No smile. No look of hope. It was as though she thought my being there was a hopeless cause. I was starting to agree. Going in with a fraction of the money was stupid.
The old guy leaned forward. He spun the book with the cutout and the .22 around in a half-circle then stopped it. With his thumb he fanned through the pages front to back, then in reverse. He placed his left palm on the stack of parchment. Retrieved the pistol.
“What assurances do I have he’d hand them over?” Kostas said.
“His word, I guess,” I said.
“His word means shit to me,” he said.
“That’s between the two of you,” I said.
“Besides, he doesn’t own the house free and clear. Hardly any equity built up.”
“The cafe does good business.”
“I suppose it does, but maybe that’s because of him.”
“Maybe it’s because of her.” I jutted my chin over my shoulder toward Isadora. “The old guys that come in seem to like her.”
“She doesn’t want to be there, though.”
“How would you know?”
The old guy stared at the silver pistol, turning it over in his hand. He looked at it like it was the first breast he’d ever touched. “What would you say the place makes in a day?”
“Me? How would I know?”
“You’ve been there, what, a month now?”
“Suppose so.”
“Well, you have eyes. You see the customers. How much?”
“Like you said, he hasn’t made a dent in his house note. My guess is not that much.”
The old guy looked up as he shifted the pistol in his palm and gripped the handle and threaded his finger through the trigger guard. He pointed it in my direction without actually aiming it at me.
“Not doing yourself any favors, Jack Noble.”
“What do you want me to tell you? The place makes a grand a day? Take it off his hands and you’ll be paid back in no time at all?”
His face folded into a thousand crinkles as he smiled. “What did Esau think would happen?”
“He didn’t.”
“Come again?”
“I said he didn’t. He didn’t think anything would happen. I made him do this based on what he had told me about you two growing up together and going to war. You see, we’re not all that different. I’m a soldier, too. I’ve been through a lot with a couple partners. One is like a brother to me. The other, not so much. Despite that, I’d die for either, even though one would be happy to set me up under the right circumstances.”
“What’s this have to do with me and Esau?”
“You were brothers growing up. He lied to join you in the war so you’d have someone always watching your back. That kind of relationship persists no matter the situation. He’s been on hard times. You know that. Hell, that’s why he came to you in the first place. You’ve got twenty grand on your desk. It’s all he has. He’s giving it to you in good faith. Whatever you want to do after this point is up to you, but I think you need to take it up with him now.”
The old guy said nothing. His gaze shifted between me and the money.
I looked at Isadora again. She watched me with the same blank look on her face. Shock, I presumed. The situation had left her rattled. Or maybe they’d already started drugging her. That’s one way to deal with a combative hostage.
“Let me leave with the girl and I’ll present an offer to him,” I said.
“Of what?” Kostas asked.
“The cafe. He’ll sign it over to you. It’s got built in clientele and is right on the water. Maybe you could use it. You know, filter stuff in.”
“Like what?” He lifted a curious eyebrow. “What do you know of my business?”
“Your business is your business. I don’t care a thing about it.”
He sat back and rubbed his chin with his brown age-spotted hand. The other rested on the desktop next to the pistol. His gaze drifted around the room. It stopped four times. The money. Isadora. Me. Someone behind me. Chris, I assumed. That was it. We were the only people in the room. How many remained in the hallway? Smart money said only those who had to be there. The rest would take the opportunity to wait in the first house until they were needed.
I looked back. Chris leaned against the wall next to the door. Too far away for me to reach without risk of being shot either by him or the old guy. He stared at me. His hand went to his holstered pistol. His head swung side to side, slowly.
The old guy cleared his throat, a raspy, hollow sound. “Tell Esau I’ll wipe the slate clean. The interest is forgiven. He has two days to come up with the rest of the original debt.”
“If he doesn’t?”
“Use your imagination.”
“The girl?”
“It’s up to her.”
I stood and turned toward her. “You ready?”
She looked away from me. Didn’t get up.
“Isadora?” I said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Her eyes were closed. She shook her head.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Sounds like she doesn’t want to go,” the old guy said. “Chris, escort Mr. Noble out.”
The guy approached me slowly and cautiously. He reached out for my arm. I fended off his hand and took a step back.
“Isadora,” I said. “What the hell is going on here? Why don’t you want to go?”
She opened her mouth, but after casting a glance toward Kostas, closed it. I turned to face him.
“What did you do to her? What’s she on?”
“On?”
“You drugged her,” I said. “With what?”
“Drugged her?”
“No way she’s acting like this on her own.”
“Like I said, the choice is hers. She’s not being held here against her will.”
“What?”
“Never has been.”
“We went to the old house. Found her torn clothes. Hell, I can see the scrape on her face from where you assholes threw her on the ground.”
The old guy laughed.
“They took her at gunpoint,” I said.
“Al
l with her knowledge.” He leaned back, smiling. His pistol was within reach. He must’ve seen me look at it. “Go ahead and try. I may be old, and true I’m a bit slow now. But I’m not that slow. And neither is Chris.”
I turned and walked over to Isadora and bent down. “What is he talking about?”
Her eyes were wet and red. She smelled fresh. She shifted, pulling the white shirt tight against her breasts, revealing the outline of her dark nipples. She said nothing.
“Is it true?” I asked. “You knew about all of this?”
“Sort of,” she said. “I knew why they were coming.”
“And she agreed to be taken,” the old guy said.
“What?” I said. “Why?”
“He has the money, Jack. Uncle Esau has it. Maybe not at the cafe or the house, but he has it.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because he never used it.”
“What do you mean he never used it?”
“My aunt never had the surgery.”
Chapter 23
I ROCKED BACK ON MY heels after hearing the confession. Esau had come across as a man devastated. He’d lost everything, including his wife, and in the process had taken on a loan greater than he could handle from a criminal. And now Isadora was saying some of it was a lie.
I took a deep breath, inhaling her lavender scent. Tears spilled over and dripped down the sides of her soft cheeks. A couple drops fell on my hand. Her hair splayed over the pillows and her shoulders. A synapse fired deep in my brain and I wished we were alone somewhere far from this mess. I realized what it was about her. She was the kind of woman who made any situation so light it floated away like a balloon.
“How do you know this?” I asked her.
She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “After they started harassing my uncle, I started digging around his paperwork. He wouldn’t come right out and tell me what had happened, so I really had no choice. I found all the doctor and hospital receipts. But never anything for the operation. I even called the doctor, posing as my mother. They were confounded by my request. There had been no surgery. But he had a pamphlet on it, with what I thought were dates and times scribbled on it.”
I recalled the paper Alik and I had found in the cellar of the abandoned house.
“How did he pull it off?” I said. “How did he make you believe she had the surgery?”
“She was in bad shape by that point. She didn’t know what was going on. He sent her away for a little bit. Told us the doctor said no one could see her. I don’t think she was ever coherent again. It wasn’t long after that she passed. But I’d look at her, and say something about the procedure, and she’d get this confused look.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. Where’s the money then?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s hiding it somewhere. And I want him to pay it back. I want him to pay it back with interest, because he hurt my mother, and he stole my life from me. If my aunt had had the operation, I might have been able to leave and continue with my education. Instead, I wept for my aunt, for my tortured mother, and for my distraught uncle. And I stayed. The old bastard duped everyone. He robbed me of my future, Jack.”
I glanced back at the old guy. He sat stoic, said nothing, made no movement or gesture.
Isadora said, “I don’t want to see him again. I don’t want to go back there. They are treating me well here.” She nodded at Kostas. “Uncle Esau needs to repay his debt. I’ll wait here until you return with the rest of the money.”
I leaned in close to her. Her lips brushed my cheek. I spoke softly. “You don’t have to do this. If they’re putting you up to this, tell me. I can get you out of here.”
“No, Jack,” she whispered. “It’s all true. Please, just go and get the rest.”
I remained there for a moment. Her breath was hot on my neck. Her skin soft against mine. I didn’t know what to think. The whole situation had been turned upside down. I needed space and time to work it out. Needed to run it by Alik. Needed to speak to Esau and get the truth from him.
“Two days, Jack Noble,” the Kostas said.
“What if he doesn’t have it?” I said.
“He’d better.”
“And if he doesn’t? Will you take the cafe?”
“We already worked it out that the place doesn’t earn anything. Why would I want it?”
“It’s something, at least.”
“He has two days to come up with the money.”
The old guy’s stare shifted to the door. I heard it open. Looked back. Chris had left his position and someone else took it. He walked over to where Isadora sat. Stopped behind her. Pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the top of her head.
She gasped and sunk into the couch. The guy yanked her back up by a fistful of hair.
“Use your imagination, Jack Noble,” the old guy said.
I crossed the room, stopped at the door, looked back at Isadora. “Should’ve left and given me your monologue on the plane.”
Chapter 24
A GROUP OF MEN USHERED me down the hallway, along the outside walkway, and into the square room with the women. About half were still there. None were nude. Maybe I had come through at shift change. Maybe they were hired only for the night. A celebration? Three guys sat with six women on two couches. Everyone looked at me.
“Wait here,” the bald guy with the fat head and mustache said.
He bumped into me as he passed on his way to the front door. One of the women smiled at me. I looked away from her. The door opened up. The car sat outside.
“OK,” the bald guy said. “Let’s go.”
They escorted me outside. One guy sat up front. The bald guy in back with me.
“We’ll have no problems, right?” he said.
I shrugged, said nothing.
“I’d feel better if you agreed with me,” he said.
“I’d feel better if I had the girl with me,” I said.
“You want a woman?” He lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “I can go back inside and get you one.”
I looked away. “We’ll have no problems. Now let’s go.”
The drive was quicker going back. Less than ten minutes had passed when I first spotted the lights of the airport. Either they’d driven in circles on the way to the house, or time slowed down with the blindfold on. I wasn’t sure why they hadn’t put it back on now. I figured the guy wasn’t used to doing this and had screwed up.
So I spent the entire drive remembering every landmark we passed while looking like I was doing nothing but nodding off to sleep.
The jet remained on the apron where we’d left it. The driver pulled up next to it. The front door opened. The guy walked around the back of the car, opened my door.
“Get out,” the bald guy with the mustache said.
“What about you?”
He shook his head. “Only you. Get on the plane. We’re gonna wait right here and watch and make sure you are on board when it lifts off.”
“And if I don’t get on?”
He pulled back his coat and grabbed the handle of his pistol.
I looked up at his smiling face. “You know you wouldn’t get that out before I hit you.”
“You want to try it? Be my guest.”
I heard the guy behind me back up and rack the slide of his pistol. The sound came from three or four feet away. Even if I did get to the bald guy in time, I’d still get shot.
“Well?” he said.
“You’d better hope you’re not at the house next time I’m there.” I swung my leg and planted it on the ground. Heard the other door open. When I stood, he was watching me from over the roof.
“You don’t want there to be a next time,” he said. “A next time means the end of your life. Now get on that plane.”
A surge of anger rose up like bitter bile in my throat. I forced it down. Nothing good could come from getting into a fight out here. Not when I had two armed men who remained out of arm’s reach.
&
nbsp; A second car pulled in. Headlights washed over the tarmac. Doors opened. Two other guys got out. Two silhouettes approached me. I figured they were joining me on the flight.
Chris walked right up to me. He reached into his pocket. I tightened my chest and arms to ready them for action. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it between us.
“For Esau,” he said. “Make sure he gets it.”
I took it from him and slipped it in my pocket. Thought about what it might be. A finger? Wasn’t thick enough. And there was no lump. Maybe a lock of hair.
“A revised contract,” he said. Then he smiled. “Written in the woman’s blood.”
Something happened in my brain and signals traveled along synapses then down my nerves and reached my arms and the muscles fired on their own. My left hand rose up in a defensive position while the right drove forward a distance less than a foot. But the distance didn’t matter because my fist was a like an engine revved to the red line and suddenly thrown into gear. It plowed forward hard and fast while the fingers curled and rose and my palm drove into the guy’s solar plexus.
It happened so fast he didn’t have time to deflect the blow or prepare his abdominal muscles for the strike.
He expelled all the air in his lungs and his shoulders hunched forward while his back bowed. A flurry of movement occurred around me as three men pulled their weapons and started shouting in as many languages. Chris dropped to his knees. He had one arm wrapped around his stomach and the other planted on the ground for support. He was desperately trying to suck in a mouthful of air. All that happened was he made a gritty hollow type sound and his face turned red in the false light.
The metal stairs and deck next to the jet clanged as it filled with the pilot and the rest of the flight crew. They watched on with open mouths and spoke in hushed tones.
The bald guy started shouting at me. The other two joined in. They drew closer to me. I couldn’t see all three at once. I stepped back and turned in a quarter-circle.
“Enough,” Chris shouted. He cradled his gut with one hand and lifted the other. He swayed on his knees, then lifted one and got a foot planted on the ground. “No one harms him. He gets on the plane. Those are orders. Got it?”
