The Warrior

by Sharon Sala

  The officer handed Richard back his passport, thanked him for his service and apologized that his vacation had been ruined.

  “Oh…it is nothing on my part,” Richard said. “It is this Richard Ponte who is the unfortunate one.” Then he shuddered. “I cannot imagine a worse fate than to be torn to shreds and eaten by such a fearsome creature.”

  Within minutes, he was in a taxi and on his way back to the hotel.

  “How did it go?” Dieter asked, wishing he could have been present to see their faces. But they couldn’t have chanced it. Not after he’d been the one down on the docks buying a shark earlier in the day.

  “They swallowed the whole story,” Richard said, smirking at the analogy, and then folded his arms across his chest and announced, “I’m feeling a little hungry. I think I could eat a whale.”

  They laughed and headed down to the restaurant.

  John and Alicia had been back in Georgia for two days. They’d slept late this morning, eaten brunch, and just after one o’clock, Alicia had opted for a little tanning session. She’d gone out on the second-floor balcony off John’s bedroom, stretched out on her belly on a chaise lounge without a stitch of clothes and blamed her dwindling lack of decorum on John, who would happily stay naked if society would allow it. He’d gone inside to see if he could find some sunscreen, although it wasn’t something he ever used. He finally found some body lotion with an SPF factor in it that he guessed would serve the purpose and was on his way back outside when the phone rang.

  He paused, glanced longingly through the sliding glass doors to where Alicia was lying, admiring her long, toned legs and that beautiful backside. The phone rang again. He started to let it go to voice mail, then noticed the caller ID, and quickly backtracked.

  “Hello?”

  “John Nightwalker?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Special Agent Joshua of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Corbin Woodliff gave me this number.”

  “What’s wrong?” John asked.

  “Is Miss Ponte still with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to have to ask you to bring her to Savannah.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” John fired back.

  “Richard Ponte’s yacht exploded and sank off Nassau in the Bahamas a couple of days ago. A few hours later, a tourist brought in a shark to a local taxidermist. They found a wallet, some bits of clothing and some human flesh inside the shark’s belly. The wallet belonged to Ponte. We’re running DNA testing on the flesh, and we need to compare it to his daughter.”

  “It wasn’t him,” John said.

  Joshua frowned. “What the hell do you mean, it wasn’t him? What do you know that we don’t?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I meant it couldn’t have been him. You know…that it’s too simple.” He couldn’t explain how he knew with every fiber of his being that Richard Ponte’s soul was still on Earth.

  “Oh. Yeah. I see what you mean,” Joshua said. “Anyway, can you bring her in, or should we send a car to pick her up?”

  “No. No. I’ll bring her. Tomorrow okay?”

  “Yes. Got a pen and paper? I’ll tell you when and where, and who you’ll be meeting.”

  “Go ahead,” John said, writing down the info and trying to stay calm, when he was screaming inside.

  After they disconnected, John headed back to Alicia, trying to figure out how to give her the news. They didn’t discuss the immortal business anymore, so he wasn’t sure how she was going to take the fact that he was certain the Feds were wrong.

  Alicia heard the sliding door open, then close.

  “I thought you’d forgotten me,” she said.

  John sat down beside her, then squeezed a little of the lotion into his palm and began applying it to her skin.

  “Never,” he said, rubbing the lotion in a smooth, circular motion. Then he paused, looking down at her. His throat tightened with unspoken emotion. She might never know, and he was never going to tell her, how bonded they really were.

  “I thought I heard the phone ringing,” she said.

  “Yes. It was Joshua, one of the Feds who arrested Carruthers.”

  Alicia rose up on her elbows, then gave him a sideways glance. She could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong.

  “Talk to me,” she said.

  “Does your father keep a yacht in Nassau?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “They said it blew up. A few hours later some fisherman brought in a shark. When they cut it open, they found some human flesh, bits of clothing and a wallet.”

  Alicia rolled over, then sat up on the side of the lounge and pulled her knees up to her chest, as if bracing herself for what was coming.

  John saw her eyes shimmer with the sudden onset of tears, but her voice was calm when she asked, “And?”

  “The wallet belonged to your father. They want you to come to Savannah for a DNA test so they can compare it to the flesh that was found.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, and then put her head down on her knees. “Oh God…oh God.”

  John sighed. Did he tell her what he knew, or leave her to grieve unnecessarily? He laid a hand on her shoulder. It had to be said. Then she could do with it what she chose.

  “Alicia.”

  She looked up. “He tried to kill me. Why am I crying?” When John didn’t answer, something told her there was more. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You won’t like it.”

  She reached for the beach towel at the end of the chaise, then stood up, wrapping it around herself sarong-style before facing him.

  “There are a lot of things I don’t like, but you’re not one of them, so say what you need to say.”

  “You remember when I told you that I could sense when the Spaniard’s soul was reborn?”

  Alicia nodded warily. “Yes, I remember you telling me that.”

  “And do you remember that I also said I knew when the soul’s current body was dead? That I felt an emptiness inside me?”

  She nodded again, even more warily.

  “I don’t care what the DNA test shows. I don’t care what the Feds say. I am telling you now that your father is not dead.”

  Alicia wanted to argue. But to do that was to call John crazy or a liar, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Not anymore.

  “Maybe the DNA tests will prove you’re right,” she offered.

  John shook his head. “I doubt it. I don’t know how he did it, but I can guarantee that your father ran a scam. We’ll go take the test. And the Feds will tell you whatever they tell you. But he’s not dead, and you’re still not safe. Just know that, and know that I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Alicia wanted to cry, but this time for John. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and just held on.

  “I love you, Nightwalker,” she said softly. “So much. So much.”

  He knew she didn’t buy his story, but at least she wasn’t going to fight him on it. For now, it was the best he could hope for.

  “When do we have to go to Savannah?” she asked.

  “I told Joshua I’d have you there by 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. There will be someone from the agency at the hospital to take the sample. I guess they don’t trust the regular channels on this one.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?” John asked. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I know, but as long as you’re stuck with me, you keep having to deal with this kind of mess.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you, baby? I’m not stuck with you. You’re the one who’s stuck with me. You couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

  She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “Unfortunately, our homecoming celebration has been sidetracked.”

  “Not for long. We’ll go to Savannah, then be back here before you know it.”

  “I know. And I know I have you to thank for so much. But if my father is dead, at le
ast we won’t have to worry about him trying to have me killed anymore.”

  John didn’t comment. No need repeating what he’d already said. She obviously hadn’t believed him the first time. Saying it again wouldn’t change her reaction. But it didn’t matter. Richard Ponte might have fooled the Feds, but John Nightwalker was the one person who would always know the truth.

  They’d had dinner served en suite. Richard waited until they were finished and the dishes had been removed before he broke the news of his next plan. He went to a drawer, took out a ticket and handed it to Dieter.

  “Pack your suitcase before you go to bed tonight. Our flight leaves at ten-fifteen tomorrow.”

  “Great,” Dieter said. “I’m ready to get back to Austria.”

  “We’re not going back to Europe just yet.”

  “Why not?” Dieter asked. “I thought once this was over, we’d return to our new identities.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking,” Richard snapped.

  “Then where are we going?”

  “The States.”

  “Hell no!” Dieter said, and leaped to his feet, threw down the ticket and glared at Richard as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Sit down and calm down!” Richard ordered.

  “I’m not sitting, and I’m sure as hell not calm. If you aren’t willing to pay for my ticket back to Austria, I’ll buy it myself.”

  Richard strode forward until he was only inches away. He was so pissed, his voice was shaking. “Remember who you are,” he growled. “You do not threaten me.”

  “I know who I am. I also know who you are. You might just as well shoot me now, get rid of your last witness and save the Feds the trouble.”

  Richard was stunned. He hadn’t considered that Dieter might balk like this. He’d always obeyed.

  “I’m not going to shoot you, for God’s sake, so stop being so dramatic.”

  Dieter glared. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m being serious.”

  “What would it take to make you take the risk?” Richard said.

  Dieter shook his head. “Not until you tell me why you’re going.”

  “Revenge.”

  “Revenge? On who?” Then it hit him. “Not only no, but hell no. I’m not going to kill your daughter. I’m not even going to try. I’ve met the Indian, remember? You, on the other hand, are blithely oblivious of how deadly he is, but there’s no amount of money you can pay me, because I wouldn’t live long enough to spend it.”

  “Five million.”

  Dieter grunted, then scrubbed his hands across his face in frustration. “You bastard.”

  Richard grinned. He had him. All he needed to do was reel him in.

  “What, exactly, are you asking me to do?” Dieter asked.

  “I want you to help me find out where she is. I’ll do the rest. But I need a driver. Someone who’ll be waiting in the wings, so to speak, to get me out of the vicinity quickly.”

  Dieter began to pace.

  “Look,” Richard said. “The authorities are already of the opinion that I’m dead. You won’t be on anyone’s watch list anymore. Besides, you have clean papers and a completely new look. I don’t see a problem.”

  “That’s because you don’t have a problem being recognized. I’m the one with the problem, damn it. That Indian will kill me.”

  Richard sighed.

  “Six million.”

  Dieter stared at Richard in disbelief. “You are insane. First, because you’re willing to kill your own flesh and blood, and second, because you’re willing to pay me six million dollars just to find out where she is and drive a fucking car.”

  “Ten.”

  Dieter sank down onto the sofa. “You no longer have access to the Ponte wealth. Does Anton Schloss have that kind of money?”

  Richard was insulted. “Of course I have money. I’ll always have money.”

  “How the hell would I know?” Dieter objected.

  “Will you do it?”

  “Only if the money is in my account before we leave this damn hotel.”

  “Get your laptop,” Richard said.

  Dieter dragged his feet all the way across the suite to his bedroom. He had a bad, bad feeling about what he’d just done, but at least he’d learned something about himself. He’d always heard that, no matter what someone was asked to do, if the price was right, they would do it. Now he knew it was true—and he knew his price. His only saving grace, if there was such a thing, was that he hadn’t sold himself cheap.

  A few minutes later he watched the money go into his account, then stared at it in disbelief. It didn’t even look real. But he’d done it. Now he was committed.

  The next morning, Dieter’s demeanor was cool, even distant, but Richard didn’t care. He’d gotten what he wanted. They’d breakfasted early and called down for a bellman to get the bags. Now they were just waiting for one to arrive.

  Soon there was a knock on the door of the suite.

  “That’ll be the bellman,” Richard said. “Take your bag and get out of sight until we’re out of the room, then you can follow. From now on, we no longer appear together in public unless it looks like a coincidence.”

  Dieter nodded, then stepped into his bedroom as Richard let the bellman in.

  “There are four of them,” Richard said, pointing to the bags beside the door. “I’ll be needing a cab to the airport, as well.”

  “Yes, sir. There will be one waiting for you outside,” the bellman said as he loaded Richard’s bags on the cart.

  Richard followed him down, leaving Dieter to come on his own, carrying his own suitcase. Even though there’d been no backlash regarding the shark incident, this was not the time to become lax.

  Outside, as the cab pulled up, Richard turned to Dieter. “Excuse me, sir, but are you by any chance on your way to the airport?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Would you care to share my taxi?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Dieter said.

  Richard waved to the bellman. “Put all the bags in my cab,” he said.

  Two hours later, they were in the air and, to Dieter’s regret, on the way back to Miami.

  Nineteen

  John hadn’t been back to Savannah since getting caught up in the attempted bank robbery. He loved the old city, and wished they were going there for fun and not a meeting with the Feds. Alicia was tense, fidgeting through the entire drive north, but it was an emotion he understood. She was facing the possibility of being told her father’s death was a reality. Even though he knew that wasn’t so, he expected the DNA to match. He didn’t underestimate Ponte for a moment. The man was obviously capable of anything and had the money to make it happen.

  The big problem was going to come when the Feds made Ponte’s death official. That was when the search would be called off. After that, the man would be free to roam the world at will. If he was smart, he would quietly disappear and live out his life in whatever guise he’d chosen, but something told John this wasn’t over. Ponte wasn’t a man who failed, and he’d tried and failed twice to end his daughter’s life. That had to be eating at him in a major way.

  John reached across the seat and took Alicia’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “We can do this,” he said.

  “I know,” she said. “And you know why?”

  “Why, baby?”

  “Because you make me believe anything is possible.”

  John tightened his grip on her hand. “Since you came into my life, I’m beginning to believe the same thing.”

  She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, letting the hum of the wheels on the pavement and the sound of passing traffic lull her into a brief but welcome sense of calm.

  By the time they reached the Savannah city limits, she was ready to get out of the car and get this over with.

  John wanted to stop by his bank but decided to use the drive-through instead of going inside. The fewer people who could speak to their whereabouts, the safer Alicia wo
uld be.

  Alicia woke up as John made a sharp turn into a bank drive-through. She could tell by the way the teller was talking to him that she knew him. As he drove on, it became even more obvious to Alicia as they wound through the streets to the hospital that John was very much at home in Savannah. He navigated the route with ease.

  “You know something? I’m beginning to wonder if you really are some kind of superman.”

  He smiled. “Why?”

  “I hear you talking to your business partners on the phone. I see you scanning e-mail and stock market reports. You buy and sell all over the world. You fly helicopters, and you seem to cope with everything with such ease. Do you ever get lost?”

  He grinned. “Hey, baby, you know a man’s never going to admit it if he does.” Then he pointed to the dash GPS. “There’s also technology, just in case.”

  She laughed. “Lord. He’s gorgeous and honest. What’s a girl to do?”

  “Forgive me for my weaknesses and love me in spite of them?”

  “Only if you grant me the same favor.”

  “Done and done. And by the way, we’re here.”

  The smile slid off her face as she saw the imposing edifice of Savannah Memorial. All of a sudden they were back in the real world.

  “Oh Lord.”

  “Don’t let it get to you,” John said.

  He was right. She took a deep breath and let the butterflies settle. All they wanted was a DNA sample. She could deal with the results later.

  It took a week for the Federal government to make their official announcement that Richard Ponte, the man wanted for treason against the United States of America, was in fact dead. After factoring in the explosion of his personal yacht in Nassau, then the DNA from the flesh found inside the shark, which was a match for Alicia Ponte’s, they considered this the end of the story.

  Alicia was officially an orphan. Since there was nothing left of Ponte to bury, she was spared the business of a funeral. She’d moped around the house until one night John decided he’d had enough. The next morning he went looking for her and found her, as usual, on his balcony overlooking the bay.