The Refugee

by S A Tameez

  He pulled up outside and threw up immediately as he got out of the car. Spots of blood showed in his vomit and every little movement sent currents of excruciating pain through his arm from the bullet graze.

  He was relieved to see Carolos still out of it as he walked inside. Poor guy had no idea what had just happened.

  The agonising pain in his arm made it almost impossible to put Carolos’ coat and cap back on him. He almost collapsed as the adrenaline wore off. Ahmed grabbed his rucksack and gave Carolos one last look before he scarpered out the back exit. His arm was now throbbing and blood was leaking like water from a burst pipe. Out in the back yard, Ahmed fell, fighting to get his breath back. He tore off the sleeve of his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound on his arm. He tried to get up and continue running, but his body forbade him. And before he knew it, he was sinking into dark murky water, regardless of how much he fought to try to swim out, the dark liquid sucked him back in. Water filled his mouth, choking him and his lungs were being squeezed so tight that he began wishing for death.

  ****

  Boreas took his eyes off the computer screen and looked at the phone on his desk as it rang. He thought it would be Tasos, making some outrageous story about how they wanted to bring Goldstein back alive, but they couldn’t and were forced to kill him. This type of disappointment he could just about handle, but there was nothing, nothing at all that could prepare him for the news he had just heard.

  “What?” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Are you sure?” He suddenly felt dizzy and a little faintish. His hands felt hot and any minute, he thought his head would explode.

  He smashed his computer screen with a fist, sending it flying across the room. His eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, and his muscles constricted. He was shouting and ranting, and just as he was about to pick up his desk and throw it, the phone rang again. He paused, took a few deep breaths. He let it ring for a few more moments. He took another deep breath and answered calmly.

  “Boreas…” he recognised the voice immediately, it was Dimitris.

  “Dimitris,” he responded, trying not to show any emotion.

  “You know why I am calling you, don’t you?” Dimitris’ croaky voice said.

  Boreas didn’t respond, he just waited to hear what Dimitris was going to say next. He knew what was coming.

  “Carolos came to the betting shop… He started a shootout. A shootout! For many years, I have respected our treaty but it seems that you have made a choice. A choice that will cost you dearly. I… I will not let this go…”

  “Dimitris, listen to me, I do not want war with you and my brother, Carolos… well, you know he

  is—”

  “I don’t care what he is… he started a war, a war in which Nick… my son, Nick, was killed.”

  “Dimitris, this doesn’t even make sense… Carolos wouldn’t do this — he doesn’t even know how to handle a gun… I am sorry about Nick.”

  “Save your pity!” Dimitris yelled, “save it for Carolos! He did it. There were many witnesses, it was his car and he was wearing the same disgusting coat and cap that he has been for the last five years.”

  “Dimitris! Listen to me! He doesn’t even have a gun, damn it!”

  “Well he had one today and he used it to kill my son…”

  “Dimitris, I warn you now… If you come after Carolos, I will come for you!”

  There was a short pause, “I will find him, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but soon. And I will make sure that he doesn’t die, not for a long time… but he will feel pain, more pain than anyone has ever felt in this world. This, I promise you.” The phone suddenly went dead.

  Boreas sat back in his chair, in silence. He knew that, under the circumstances, war was inevitable. And he couldn’t risk Carolos getting into the hands of Dimitris. Dimitris would keep his promise of torturing and killing Carolos, even if he had to tear down the world around him to do it. He loved his son, and he loved his respect even more, both of which were gone. Nothing would stop him from getting to Carolos, not even Boreas.

  ****

  “I have called you all here because we are about to take down Boreas’ entire world!” Dimitris’ chilling voice echoed through the large hall of his hotel, Aristides Hotel. The fifty or so armed men gathered there, stood silently, paying close attention to what he was saying.

  “For many years, we have watched Boreas operate and we know his weaknesses. And for so many years, he has thought of himself as untouchable, but no one is untouchable! Only I am untouchable!” He stood up from his chair and paced around the hall, his eyes raking in every single one of their faces. “We will attack him from every angle, we will destroy his businesses, take his money, his drugs, kill his family and exterminate him completely — once and for all! I want Boreas to be a distant memory.”

  Dimitris’ enjoyed presenting himself as a proud, egotistic, psychotic killer. It made him feel safe to know that people were afraid of him. Everyone knew the story of how, when he was just thirteen, he’d locked his parents, and younger sister in their home and burned it. He’d watched the flames engulf the house and mimicked the screams of his family as he heard them being burned alive.

  He’d spent over seven years locked up in a psychiatric unit for the criminally insane, keeping himself out of trouble until he’d eventually learnt the only way he was ever going to get out, was if he said what everyone wanted to hear. He’d sussed that the shrinks thrived on knowing they were capable of “curing” the most dangerously mentally ill. Dimitris worked on their egos and pretended that he was no longer psychotic, and that they had made him ‘well’.

  It wasn’t long before the shrinks were gloating in front of the courts about how wonderful they were and how their treatment was revolutionary. They fought for his release, and he was let out. A huge mistake. He lay low for a while, long enough for the world to forget about who he was and then came back with a vengeance. He knew that if he went around killing people that the law would soon have him locked up or even executed and regardless of how much he enjoyed it, he had to control his urges. Instead, he turned his focus to acquiring wealth and power. After all, killing was all about power.

  “I want him to suffer…” Dimitris continued. “I want him to wish he was never born!”.

  ****

  Ahmed’s eyes opened. He sat up and looked around him in a panic. He was still in the backyard of the snooker club and it was getting dark. How long was I out for? he thought to himself, trying to get up. The bleeding in his arm had stopped, but his body was so stiff that he felt like he would snap when he forced himself to his feet. He heard car doors slamming and crouched down. He crept forward and allowed only the top of his head above the ledge as he peered in through the gap of the snooker club’s window as it opened outwards. He could just about see two tall men with a short, older man behind them. It was Boreas.

  Ahmed, crouched with his eyes just above the sill, and listened intently to what was being said. He was sure to draw in his head every now and then so they wouldn’t see him.

  “Shall we wake him up Boss?” Ahmed heard one of the men ask.

  “No... let him sleep,” came the response.

  Ahmed put his head up, stealthily, and saw that Boreas was staring at something on the wall. He quickly withdrew again.

  After what seemed like ten minutes, Ahmed put his head up again and saw that Carolos was waking up from his position of sleep. Worried he’d be seen, Ahmed crouched down again and listened carefully.

  “B... Boreas...”

  “Hello Carolos.”

  “I...I...”

  “Hey... it’s ok... you don’t need to explain, I don’t want to know why.” Boreas’ voice sounded chillingly calm and compassionate. “You men, wait outside. I want some time with my brother.” Ahmed heard the men’s footsteps as they walked away and the door closed.

  “I love that painting,” Boreas’ voice continued in its soft, peaceful tone. “Do you know why I l
ove it so much?”

  “N-no.”

  “I love that painting because it was painted by someone very special, very special.”

  “Who?”

  Ahmed dared to look through the opening of the window. Boreas was smiling, like a parent smiles at their child, and appeared to be squeezing his brother’s arm gently. “It was painted by you.”

  Carolos giggled. “B-but I can’t paint.”

  “Oh, but you could... in fact you were so good at painting that your school said that your paintings would make you rich one day.”

  “I don’t r-remember painting o... or s-school.”

  “I know,” Boreas’ said. “There are a lot of things that you don’t remember, like how much mother and father loved us, our old house… our childhood.” Boreas stood up behind Carolos and pointed at the painting over Carolos’ shoulder. “Look at the balcony of the house, we spent hours up there, playing. You loved football, you were great at it. Look below, in the garden, we climbed and fell off that huge tree so many times that we lost count.” Boreas gave a faint chuckle.

  Ahmed couldn’t see what Carolos’ expression was like, but he imagined the gangster’s retarded brother was looking excited.

  “Carolos… I want you to look at that picture and imagine us as children, playing football, can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, I can…” Carolos replied excitedly.

  Ahmed’s head went down once more and he didn’t see the blood that spurted from Carolos’ head as his brother shot him. The loud bang of the gun going off startled him. Instinctively, his head shot up above the sill to see Boreas cradling his dead brother in his arms as he slunk to the floor.

  “I am so sorry my brother…” Boreas cried, “I had no other way of protecting you… I am so sorry, please forgive me.”

  From where he was, Ahmed could see that Carolos’ brains and blood were splattered everywhere, even over Boreas. He put his hands over his mouth to stop himself from screaming and fell to his knees. Tears rolled from his eyes and his head spun.

  What have I done! I am no better than the people I have fought against my entire life! I have failed at being a husband, a father, and now, I have failed at being a human being!

  He tried to get up, but his body prevented him from moving. It was as though the burden of all the things he had done weighed so much that they wouldn’t let him get up… or maybe… his conscience had initiated auto pilot, no longer allowing him to commit more evil.

  “That poor man…” Ahmed whispered to himself.

  Boreas had killed his own brother…it hadn’t been what Ahmed had expected, but he’d worked it out in his mind that Dimitris’ men had mistaken Ahmed for this poor simple fool and Boreas knew that to protect him, he was going to have to kill him himself. It was atrocious and it was all Ahmed’s fault.

  This had not been what he’d wanted. Ahmed had hoped for friction between Boreas and Dimitris, causing enough of a distraction to allow him to find Malik easier. Had he known that it would have resulted in the murder of such an innocent soul, he would have found another way. As odious as it all was, Ahmed only had time to peer down the road of regrets, he didn’t have time to walk down it. Not just yet, anyway.

  Get up… Get up, now, he silently commanded himself, you are not dead yet…

  Pain ran down from his jaw to his neck and his arm. He wished that he had grabbed more pain killer when he was at the pharmacy earlier. But he hadn’t. He’d been too busy conspiring to commit another act of pure evil. He struggled to his feet, his knees nearly buckled as he looked back through the window. Boreas was still holding Carolos, cradling his limp neck. The thought of calling out to Boreas and confessing had crossed Ahmed’s mind. For a moment, it even felt like the right thing to do. It was only the thought that if he were to be killed now, Malik would be in the hands of these monsters for ever. And he couldn’t let that happen. He would have to do whatever needed to be done, even if it killed him inside; and it had, already, a few times over.

  Boreas put the phone on loudspeaker. “Dimitris!” he screamed at it, then more calmly said, “What happened to your son was tragic and shouldn’t have happened, but… Carolos has paid the ultimate price… he is no more.”

  Dimitris’ voice was wrathful. “Do you really think that just because you have given your brother some kind of cowardly honour killing that… this is all over? You are a fool! This is far from over… you saved your brother from me, but you will not be able to save yourself! I will do everything in my power to destroy you — this, I promise!”

  Boreas threw the phone across the room, it hit the wall with enough force to break the phone into three pieces and take a chunk of plaster out. He sat silently, glad that Carolos was free from what was about occur, but ashamed that he had done what he had. He knew what sort of monster Dimitris was, he knew he was a monster himself — but Dimitris was an evil beyond measure, and his son Nick would have grown into an even bigger monster. This, he knew for sure. Killing for necessity and killing for thrill and pleasure, were two completely different things. The latter was something that even Boreas was uncomfortable with — the world was a better place without Nick and the world would be a better place without Dimitris.

  He wiped his tears and called for the men that were standing guard outside. Within seconds, the men walked back in, one still had smoke exhaling from his mouth. They looked down at Carolos, un-phased.

  “Tasos and Kostas… where are they?” Boreas asked, in a voice that betrayed his grief.

  “They are waiting outside, like you requested,” one of the men responded,

  “Send them in and call the cleaner, and tell him to get here now.”

  Boreas looked back at Carolos, then closed his eyes, but closing his eyes didn’t help. He was unable to get the image of his dead brother out of his head. Nor could he get the memories of them playing as children out of his mind. There was a pool of bright red blood on the floor and when he opened his eyes, he could see his reflection. He began questioning what he had done, asking himself whether he should have smuggled Carolos out of the area or even out of the country instead of ending his life. But deep down he knew that Dimitris would eventually find him, he would make it his life’s mission to find him and do to him all the horrific things that he had promised. Of that, he was sure. Boreas knew that he had to kill Carolos to protect him.

  “Boss,” Tasos said, as he and Kostas walked in.

  “I need to get everyone together… we will need everyone!” As Boreas got to his feet, Tasos suddenly pushed him to the ground, saving him from a spray of bullets that came bursting through the windows. The sound was deafening. Most of the paintings on the walls, were filled with holes and fell to the ground violently.

  The bullets hit some bottles at the bar and exploded fiercely, launching shards of glass across the room.

  Tasos removed his gun and stood in front of Boreas while Kostas ran outside to see who it was. Boreas’ hired security were wounded, two were undoubtedly dead.

  “Dimitris’ men,” Boreas said, moving Tasos out of the way and walking outside. He looked around at the gruesome scene with burning eyes. “This is just the beginning… he will not stop — call everyone in.”

  “Most of the guys are at the shipping company,” Tasos said, still looking around vigilantly.

  “Call them back, leave one or two men, no more! We will need everyone we can spare.” Boreas removed his gun from his pocket and pointed at the sky. “If Dimitris wants war, then we will give him war! We are not weak and if he thinks he can do this to us and get away with it, he is mistaken!”

  After a few moments, a white van pulled up. It was completely unmarked and had tinted windows. A tall man wearing a white suit, like one worn by forensics teams, walked out casually. It almost felt surreal looking at this man, carrying a large bag, stroll out so peacefully. It was like he couldn’t even see the chaotic scene around him. He didn’t look shocked nor did he look worried or scared — it was as if he was taking
a relaxed walk into work.

  He gave a silent nod when he made eye contact with Boreas, as he walked past and into the Snooker club. Boreas wanted to tell him to be gentle with Carolos’ body but he knew he couldn’t. The Cleaner had two simple rules. One, you send him the address: this must be done in a message, no calls. Two, no other communication: he doesn’t want to know the who’s, what’s or how’s. If these rules are broken, the contract is terminated. And Boreas couldn’t afford to have this contracted terminated. Not if he wanted to stay out of jail, anyway. The cleaner had a reputation of getting things “cleaned” and had no affiliates. He wasn’t part of a gang and nor did he work for anyone exclusively. He worked for anyone that paid the cleaning fees and followed the rules. It was as simple as that.

  “What have you found about this Goldstein?” Boreas asked Tasos, clenching his jaw.

  “Not much, other than he’s a ghost, “Tasos replied. “He’s definitely not one of Dimitris’ men.”

  “Who is he?” Boreas said. He felt his jaw locking and unlocking. “Is there another gang operating? Is he an old enemy? Tell me!”

  Tasos looked at Kostas and nodded. Kostas went to his car and returned moments later with an envelope and handed it to Boreas.

  “These are pictures taken from the textile factory’s CCTV.” Boreas looked at the images of the man they were calling Goldstein.

  “I know this person, I’ve seen him…”

  “Yes, you have… he is all over the news.”

  “The refugee?” Boreas asked, looking confused.

  “Yes, the refugee.”

  “What have I done to this refugee to make him want to destroy my business? What does he want?”

  “We can’t be sure, but it appears he’s after something.”

  “Or…” Boreas paused for a second and then added, “or maybe someone.” He rubbed his forehead. “Get me Lambros on the phone now!”