The Life We Lead: Ascending

by George Nagle

  James paused, considering Petior. “We are part of a group that is trying to understand how the mafias work to continue the drug trades,” he said quietly.

  “You are talking of Russian ways to Italians into America and how they got it from the Slants,” grumbled Petior. “This is a fast and dirty thing you want none of. It will break you into million pieces.”

  “Slants, what or who are the Slants?” James asked.

  “Is that not what you call them, the Asian people?” Petior inquired.

  “Oh, I see. Tell me, Petior, why will this break me, and how are the Asians connected?” James asked.

  “You are good man. Strong, smart, and fierce, but this goes too deep and too ugly. You do not want to follow. I know some, and it is too ugly. Save your youth for a happier life,” Petior said, looking down.

  “Petior, what can you tell me? I appreciate the warning, but if I can rid the world of this evil, I will.” James stared at Petior, who finally looked up.

  With a slight lurch the car stopped at the hotel.

  James knew it was now or never. Petior’s body language signaled he was shutting down, no doubt to protect James.

  “Nikolias, drive around the block once more, please,” said Daen, who knew with a quick glance in the rearview mirror that James needed more time.

  “I do not understand,” said Nikolias, but Daen insisted and began to tell the pig joke from the night before to distract him while James grabbed Petior’s shoulders and pushed them back into the seat in a body motion meant to keep him open.

  “I take responsibility for what I ask,” James told his new friend. “I truly believe it is a horrible thing I am seeking and that ignorance is often bliss. But for men like me, like us, that is never an acceptable reality. If you value what I have done for you, please at least point me in the right direction. You have the power to help me, and I certainly need it.” James made sure he did not blink as he said this. His tone was measured, half pleading and half demanding.

  “Da, I know of what you speak. I will put you in contact with a man in UK that can give you information. Calum will send you to the Asians. They know of the Italians’ ways and will help you. They hate them.” Petior took a piece of paper from the seat pocket in front of them and wrote down a phone number with a pen he asked Nikolias for. He gave James the paper just as they pulled back up to the hotel.

  “But I ask you, please, do not call him,” Petior said slowly. “I know, wasted words, but I ask it anyhow, my friend.”

  The men exchanged goodbyes, as well as contact information. A minute later, Nikolias and Petior left in the car and James and Daen walked in to enjoy a hot shower, soft bed, and a meal before heading back to the States and classes a few days later.

  Natalia was at the desk reading as they approached the lobby. When she saw them, she quickly picked up the desk phone, whispered something, and began to talk in her normal volume.

  “Interesting, man,” said Daen. “Wonder why she missed her original shift.”

  James gave an acknowledging grunt and they walked on.

  Entering the room they shared, they found a man wearing a coat with a turned up collar and bowler hat peering out the window.

  “I hear you have been busy these last hours disrupting the peace, capturing my men, saving lives, and earning the respect of the people. Oh, and enjoying my hospitality. Thank you for what you have done. I trust you will not wear out your welcome or earned status with us.”

  The man turned, and it was Roman. He had no trace of an accent. Clearly, James had been wrong about his ability to speak English.

  He went on in his out-of-breath voice, “I have covered your costs for the trip here and have you on a plane leaving tonight, in first class. You will find you have enough time to shower and pack before your flight if you do not delay. Simply take what you need for your flight, walk out to the black Mercedes, and the driver will take you directly to the airport. The remainder of your things will be shipped as you like.”

  He said nothing else but placed their tickets on the bed and walked out.

  James and Daen weren’t sure what to make of this, but James suspected the call Natalia had made was to Roman.

  Daen checked the tickets. “These are first class … Hey, all our stuff is packed, and they have shipping labels ready for most of our gear. What the …”

  “I don’t know, but this is one of those ‘Go with the flow’ moments,” James said.

  “Really, man, why?” Daen questioned. “A man we don’t know just did all that for us? What about not being in someone’s debt and all that jazz you talk about?”

  “We aren’t in his debt; he’s in ours. Or he feels he is. This is his way to try to level the field,” James answered.

  “Are you nuts? How do you work that out? Okay, yeah, maybe the others, but him?”

  “Well, Roman is related to Alexander. I suspect his friendship with Petior is business related, given that exchange in the hall with the paper last night. More than likely illegal business, actually. Roman is obviously in a position of influence with Ola and the others. Natalia does some spying directly for him but not for the freedom group, as she didn’t bother to tell them about us splitting rooms.”

  James said all this in a matter-of-fact tone as he gathered fresh clothes for a shower. He was exhausted and smelly.

  “Man, I know you’re right. I don’t know how you know that, but you’re never wrong.” Daen shook his head and began filling in the shipping labels.

  James went on as if talking to himself, practically ignoring Daen and speaking his thoughts aloud. “Alexander has small lungs, a trait that is passed down genetically and one that Roman shares, from what Roman’s breathing sounded like. They also have identical height, hair color, and ear lobes. My guess is they’re father and son, but that Alexander is a bastard child. Ola spoke of his family and its importance, but they also believe in dying for the cause, so why be so worried about one member’s life unless he’s super valuable to someone high up?”

  James shrugged and went on. “The fact that Ola spoke about Roman understanding means she knows Alexander is Roman’s son and probably would agree to Petior’s death if he’d died. What’s interesting is that Ola and Petior didn’t know each other. That concerns me.”

  James continued thinking out loud as he moved slowly toward the bathroom. “The fact that Roman wanted to stay away from us at dinner, even though he had to know about us by then, given the symbol burned into the windowsill where we ate, tells of his debt to Petior. We also know our actions were communicated to Roman before we arrived at dinner and again just now by Natalia. I think Roman’s comments sum up the remainder nicely, don’t you?” James said all this in a passive tone as he turned on the shower and undressed.

  “Translate that for me in English, not crazy James thinking,” Daen said.

  “I think Roman is some sort of commander in that freedom group. The one with the symbol that I saw at the train station, at his place, the tattoos and all. I think Ola is in charge of all of that for him. We discussed Roman and Petior’s rather lucid relationship, but Petior doesn’t seem to be involved with the freedom movement group at all. Roman is the key, like he sees the two sides of a coin.”

  Daen nodded and opened his mouth to speak but seemed to answer his own question. Then, as if trying to find something to nitpick, he turned toward James and said, “Identical hair? His hair is whiter than you, man.”

  “Eyebrows.” James said simply, closing the door completely and getting in a much needed shower.

  “Damn man, how the … Whatever it is that allows you to do that … Well, it’s impressive every time you do it. But you are a nerd man, no doubt. Like seriously, who notices all of that detail like that?” said Daen, shaking his head.

  Chapter Three

  The return trip to the U.S. was uneventful, which is as good as any trip can be, but James didn’t sleep much on the flight. Any form of motion travel prevented him from sleeping well, but be
ing in first class helped tremendously.

  When he did sleep, he was plagued by a weird, semi-cartoonish dream about walking around a corner slowly, hand to the wall, a red streak following his touch.

  The two men split up when they hit Dulles Airport. James was flying into Pittsburgh on his journey back to school in Johnstown, while Daen was heading to the University of Virginia. They were a full day early, but that was all to the good.

  On the first leg of the flight, James had managed to pen a written version of the trip. Daen agreed it was accurate and signed off. He and Daen had also agreed that James would consult with Daen and the rest of the group before taking any next steps involving the Russians.

  Now he just had to follow up with calling Calum when he could get a secure line. That was priority number one upon getting to campus, followed immediately by a good night’s sleep before digging in for finals, which were coming up in three short weeks.

  He also needed to come up with a legitimate reason for traveling around the world. It was obvious his medical-physiological interests weren’t going to allow for this, even though they were handy in circumstances like the one with Alexander. He needed to be able to travel, have some scheduling flexibility, and not have to deal with too many co-workers tagging along.

  Problem one is freedom, he thought, writing it down on the flight to Pittsburgh. Freedom requires trust, and the most immediate form of trust comes from confidence. Confidence is knowledge that was fairly well assimilated. That meant he needed something in science. He preferred physiology, but biology, chemistry, or physics would do.

  He tapped the end of his pen twice against the paper, thinking. The flight attendant asked if he’d like something to drink, interrupting his thoughts, and handed him a tray with fresh fruit and a salad.

  “Just water, please,” he said.

  Water. Now that was something.

  He wrote the word down.

  “Thank you,” he said when the attendant handed him the water. He gave her a smile.

  Water is global, and fresh water will be an issue, but I need something more immediate. Water is the basis of life and manufacturing, but that isn’t helpful unless applied to demographics.

  He paused to eat the light lunch he was given. He shook the salad dressing and poured it on the lettuce, trying to let his mind go blank.

  “Draw from the environment, and if you can’t, change the environment,” he’d told others in training.

  Plane, people, seats, sky, first class, money.

  Chew, chew, chew.

  Travel, distance, speed, time, fuel.

  He took a drink of water, scanning the cabin for inspiration.

  Food, fruit, vegetables, salad, dressing, oil, and water.

  Pause. He wrote down oil.

  Oil, expensive, requires those in corporate global companies to travel. Smaller companies tend to pay better and their resources are stretched, so duplication in travel is limited. Sales take too much time to build and have to be local to start. Marketing and management do not. Degrees get you there. The science background fits within petrochemicals, which are carbon based, too, and have a biological connection.

  He scratched his head and spoke out loud. “Or find someone with a science background who’s in marketing and let them mentor me without having to get the degree now. Adjunct professors who teach but have a full time career fit this model.”

  He allowed himself a smile and finished the food in front of him, having found a path forward. While working, he could do what he needed to advance the cause he’d taken on.

  ***

  Three hours later, James was back on campus and walking into his place. His housemates, freshly tanned, were all back too.

  “Hey, James, what’s up?” asked Mark, one of his roommates and his closest friend, looking up. The others were playing a video game and were oblivious to his entrance.

  “Hey all,” James said, giving a short wave before heading upstairs.

  John, Steve, Dylan, and Edgar each muttered something. They were in an intense round of 007 Golden Eye, and James knew distractions like saying hi weren’t worth their attention.

  Mark followed James up the stairs to their shared room. He’d apparently lost his round, and it would be some time before he could get back in rotation for the game.

  “How was break?” Mark asked, flopping on his unmade bed.

  “Not bad, a lot of work. How was yours?”

  James knew Mark’s break had been good just by looking at him. Typically, Mark was a rather pale man. He stood a solid six-feet-four-inches and all of 175 pounds soaking wet. Right now, his skin was a light red that might leave a tan and he seemed to have gained a few desperately needed pounds that he’d probably burn off in a few days, given that most of his meals consisted of breakfast cereal or Hamburger Helper.

  “Dude, it was great. Was up at the lake and the weather was amazing. The mommasitas were out too!” Mark crossed his legs and put his arms behind his head. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Indeed. Did you use your line, ‘Hey babe, how about you sit on my lap and we talk about the first thing to pop up?’ with those mommasitas?” James flashed Mark a grin.

  Mark smiled and blushed. “I hate you,” he said playfully as they always did with each other. “Just because I’m on a ‘diet’ doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu and appreciate it.”

  James smiled and nodded his agreement. He knew Mark would never cheat on Jamie or anyone else for that matter.

  “Only had to help your dad on a well one day then?” James asked.

  “Yup, everything else was pump work,” Mark replied. He didn’t bother asking how James knew about the well; he was far too used to it.

  “Get back last night?”

  “Yeah, a few people came back and Jamie wanted to go to a party.” Mark looked critically at his roommate. “You look dead on your feet. Did you work the entire time?”

  “Most of it. Didn’t get much sleep,” James answered, sorting through his laundry. Thankfully, Mark wasn’t paying attention to the fact that his clothes were dirty, which they shouldn’t be, if he had just come from spending a week at home.

  Mark sighed. “Yeah, I bet having two younger siblings in the house and working second and third shifts doesn’t allow for a lot of restful sleep. But always exams and papers to look forward to!” He raised his arm in fake celebration. “Speaking of which, can you read my geology paper for me? And I know Edgar needs help with some accounting thing, too.”

  “Yeah, when’s it due?” James asked, letting out a long breath through his nose.

  “First day back.” Mark got up to get his paper. Luckily, it was only a few pages, and double spaced.

  James looked at the clock. 3:30 p.m. It was getting late in England. “I’ll look at it after dinner if that’s cool. I told Kaleb and Randy I’d be over to review some evolution stuff, but I won’t be there long,” he told his roommate.

  “Sweet, thanks. You coming back here first before dinner or … ?” Mark asked, setting the paper on James’s desk.

  “Meet ya there at 5:30?” James knew Mark hated to eat by himself.

  “Yup. Okay, time to go teach these bitches what’s up and get some ‘Look at my screens’ on Dylan and his gay Siberian warrior.” Mark left the room as James laughed.

  Dylan loved to yell “Look at my screen!” right before sneaking up on someone and using the chop kill in the game. It was the most humiliating way to die in the matches.

  James picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” Kaleb answered.

  “Hey man, you and Randy want to go over that evolution stuff at your place for about ninety minutes at 4 o’clock?” James asked.

  Kaleb and Randy were in a fraternity. James spent enough time there that he was sort of a brother who never pledged. It was a convenient connection to have when you needed to explain long absences.

  “Cool, see ya in a few.” Kaleb hung up the phone.

  That was easy, J
ames thought. He gathered his stuff and was out the door. He had one stop first, and that was to call Calum. The campus lines all ran through a nondescript switchboard so it was secure enough, as the call would merely trace to an area. This offered more security than he probably needed, but since it was there and easy, why not utilize it?

  Ten minutes later, James was in the science building, having gotten past the rather weak locking mechanism the campus used.

  “Seriously, this is child’s play,” he said softly to himself. “It’d be so easy to set up a drug lab and have all the tools we need, and these fools would never even notice.”

  He dialed into the calling card he’d bought at the airport in Washington during his connecting flight and then the number he’d gotten from Petior. It seemed to ring a long time. Just as he was about to give up, there was an answer.

  “Who the bloody hell is this? And whatcha calling me so late for?” came a man’s voice.

  “Sorry for the hour ...” James started.

  “Who is this? I don’t know this voice!” shouted the man.

  “I was given this number by a friend of mine named Petior. Is this Calum?” James asked.

  “You deaf or just an idiot? Asked who you are, and you turn and ask who I am. Well, isn’t that a treat. I suppose this is Stephen then, aye? Yeah, my friend said you might call. He also said to tell you good luck and he’s sorry you didn’t take his advice. More like God’s luck,” the man muttered. “So what you want, lad?” he half shouted.

  “I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with a situation?” James started.

  “Say one more word and this conversation ends now, lad. He said you had brains; he was probably soaking up too much vodka. You want to talk? Meet me here in Aberdeen, plain and simple.”

  “Done,” James replied, his brain working overtime. Scotland. Now he really needed a reason to travel.

  “Now that’s more like it. Take this down,” Calum said in a normal voice. He gave James directions and agreed to meet on James’s timeframe, in a couple of months. He didn’t question the delay, and James didn’t offer to explain it.