On the Prowl

by Matt Lincoln

  24

  Charlie

  I was furious.

  I’d been the one to hold Junior back and tell him that it was too dangerous to go back on the ship. I knew I’d made the right move. I knew that going back onto the ferry could have very likely been a death sentence for both of us. All that said, it was still a punch to the gut to watch that crate being cracked open and to see that poor bird drowned inside.

  I’d always had a soft spot for kids and old people. I’d grown up in an abusive home until I was seventeen, and then I’d been on my own until Harry took me in at twenty-one. I knew what it was like to be helpless and to have the people you depend on turn on you. Because of that, I’d always made it a point to help people who most needed it. When I thought about it, animals fit into that category too. Like kids, they were pretty much subjected to the whims of the people around them. The bird hadn’t asked to be thrown in a cage or dumped into a sinking ship. It died an awful, unnecessary death and had no one around to help it.

  The thought made my blood boil, and before I knew what had come over me, I was striding back over to the police cruiser Illias was sitting in, hellbent on giving him a piece of my mind, or my fist, consequences be damned. Hatzis was doing his best to calm me down when I heard an abrupt commotion from behind me. Everyone beside me had gone silent after the discovery of the bird, so I turned to see what had everyone’s attention now.

  I felt a wave of deja vu wash over me as I looked at Junior lying on the ground at the edge of the dock near the water, the situation almost an exact repeat of the earlier one on the cruise ship.

  I ran over to him again and hoped I wouldn’t pop any of the stitches the paramedic had replaced for me just a little while earlier. The paramedics got to him before I did, though, and blocked my path. One of them turned and began to ask me something in Greek. I just shook my head in frustration, hoping to convey to him that I didn’t understand what he was saying. For the first time since we arrived, I deeply regretted not having bothered to learn any Greek before coming here.

  He seemed to understand my struggle, though, as he paused for a moment before pointing to Junior.

  “Hospital,” he said, enunciating each syllable.

  “Which hospital?” I asked in English, and in the next moment, Hatzis was beside me. He said something in Greek to the paramedic, who to confirmed with a nod before climbing into the ambulance that Junior had already been loaded into. I watched as the ambulance turned on its lights and sirens before pulling away from the port and onto the main road.

  “That is the same hospital Detective Cirillo is in,” Hatzis said. “Come on. I’ll have one of the other officers help transport Galanis. We’ll follow behind the ambulance.”

  The trip went by in a blur, and we were at the hospital before I knew it. The hospital was like all the other ones I’d been to in the United States, and I hated it. I’d hated doctors ever since Harry had dragged me to see one a few months after he’d taken me under his wing. The guy had been so condescending, making comments about how awful my health was and how I needed to grow up and take better care of myself. I’d only been living on the street for five years at that point, so, of course, my health wasn’t worth a damn. I’d hated them even more after Harry’s accident. Hospitals just reminded me of death and injury and pain.

  It was no different now as I anxiously sat in an empty waiting room. I’d tried fiddling with my phone, but I was too upset to even do that. I felt worried about Junior, and I felt guilty for not having done something about it before it got to the point that it did.

  I could say I hadn’t noticed, but that would be a lie. I’d noticed him acting strangely since we’d gotten to the hotel. He’d been staring off into space and seemed to forget what he was talking about more than once. Then, after we’d gotten that first crate off the ferry, he’d seemed out of it again. I’d chalked it up to him being tired from lugging the thing off the boat, but I should have connected the pieces. He’d been acting off ever since that hit to the head he’d taken on the cruise ship, and because his partner had been too stupid to realize something was wrong, he’d managed to fall and hit his head again on the concrete dock by the ferry.

  I stood and walked swiftly from the room, unable to take the silence any longer. Maybe if I walked around, I’d be able to find a vending machine. I wasn’t particularly hungry or thirsty, but I needed something to do to take my mind off this for a second. At the end of the hall, I did actually manage to find a small room filled with various kinds of vending machines, and I chose one at random. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t had a chance to exchange any money yet, as we’d gotten off the plane and immediately sprung into action. I’d ordered the pizza online, so I’d been able to pay with a credit card, but without any cash, I wouldn’t be able to use the vending machines.

  I sighed and dropped heavily into the only chair in the room, rubbing a hand over my face. The day just seemed to get worse and worse.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled quickly through the contacts. I needed to call the office and give a report of everything that had gone down. My finger was hovering over Nelson’s name when a different idea struck me. I tried to calculate what time it would be back in Las Vegas and wondered if Harry would be awake right now. Nelson had told me to update them anytime something significant happened, so I didn’t worry about contacting the office, but Harry was a bit of a night owl and kept strange hours, and I didn’t want to wake him up if he was already sleeping.

  After a few seconds of struggling to remember what the time difference was, I realized that I was holding a device that could tell me the answer in an instant. I must have been even more exhausted than I thought. A quick search revealed that the time difference between Las Vegas and Athens was ten hours. It was a little past six here, which meant that it would be eight in the morning back home. It was a little early for Harry, who liked to sleep in most days, but I decided to risk it anyway, hoping he wouldn’t be too grumpy at being woken up.

  “Hello?” Harry answered groggily after the third ring.

  “Hey, Harry, did I wake you?” I asked, even though I could already tell that I had by the tone of his voice.

  “No,” he replied quickly. “Well, yeah, you did, but it’s nothing to worry about. Is everything okay? Aren’t you in Greece right now?” Harry’s voice became clearer as he woke up and became more alert. There was a hint of concern in his voice too, and I felt a little guilty for worrying him.

  “Yeah, I am in Greece, and I’m fine before you start to panic or anything,” I said, smiling a little into the phone. I did feel bad about worrying him, but at the same time, it felt nice having someone who worried about me.

  “Well, that’s a relief. But what are you calling for, then? I know it wasn’t just because you missed me, so come on, out with it.” Harry’s voice was sharp as ever, even when he was just waking up.

  “First mission’s been kind of a disaster,” I said, leaning back in the small chair to stare up at the ceiling. “Our first suspect got away, but not before clocking my partner so hard he got a concussion. Our second suspect crashed a boat full of people, and we managed to get all the passengers off before it sunk, but one of the animals on board died. Then, my partner had some kind of seizure and fell over and hit his head again, and now we’re at the hospital. Oh, and I tore some stitches.”

  “Wow,” Harry said with a chuckle. “For once, you’re not exaggerating. That does sound like a disaster.”

  “What do you mean for once?” I asked as Harry continued to chuckle into the phone. “And stop laughing. It’s not funny.”

  “Charlie, you’re the biggest drama queen I’ve ever met,” Harry said. “You can’t blame me for thinking you were dramatic when you said it was a disaster. Just yesterday, you were whining about being told to take a day off. And speaking of yesterday, I seem to recall telling you not to be so hard on yourself. You’ve gotta learn to lighten up and find humor in the dark aspect of the job, or it�
��s gonna eat you alive. I’m serious here.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I said.

  “Don’t be a smartass,” Harry said. “Now listen. Mistakes happen. Accidents happen. When you work with criminals, people are going to get hurt. What happened to your partner is unfortunate, but it’s part of the job.”

  “I know that,” I said. “But I should have noticed something was wrong. He was acting loopy and weird before, but I just brushed it off. If I’d been a better partner, we might not have ended up in the hospital.”

  “And now you’ll know better for next time,” Harry said without missing a beat. “No one is born knowing the right answers to everything, Charlie. I’ve met a lot of cops, detectives, federal agents, what have you, and not one of them was perfect at their jobs right out the gate. Experience is how we learn, and there’s gonna be a lot of times when you really screw up and have to learn things the hard way, but that doesn’t mean you’ve failed in any way that other people haven’t before. What you take from this experience is what will determine whether you’ve failed.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I said with a heavy sigh, already feeling better.

  “Of course I am, I’m always right,” Harry said, eliciting a loud bark of laughter from me that was far too loud for a hospital. “Now, what’s this about you popping your stitches, then? Were you acting stupid? Didn’t I tell you to take it easy and let your partner handle more of the physical work?”

  “My partner was concussed,” I pointed out.

  “How convenient,” Harry said with a scoff. “I thought you said you didn’t realize until later?”

  “Well, I couldn’t just let the suspect get away!” I argued. “And I only popped a few of them. The paramedic stitched me back up at the scene, and then I got rechecked at the hospital. It all turned out okay.”

  “Charlie, I am not as young as I used to be. I am trying to enjoy my retirement, and I swear you shave off a few years of my life every time I talk to you.”

  “Oh, who’s being dramatic now, old man?” I teased.

  “Come and say that to my face, you cheeky bastard!” Harry yelled, although his threatening words were belied by his own laughter. “Seriously, though, Charlie. You’re doing just fine. You don’t need to go out of your way to put yourself in danger. It’ll find you without any help, trust me, so just look out for your partner and try to take it easy, alright?”

  “Okay, Harry,” I said. “Speaking of my partner, I should go and check on him. It’s been a while since they took him back.”

  “Well, don’t let me keep you,” Harry said. “Just call me whenever you’re back. Oh, and don’t forget to bring Junie something from Greece!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I won’t. Bye, Harry,” I said, and with that, I ended the call. I felt significantly lighter than I had before, as I usually did after having a talk with him.

  I walked back toward the waiting room I’d been sitting in before and arrived just as a doctor in a pressed white coat came in through the double doors leading to the examination areas.

  “Hello, are you Agent Hills?” he asked, and it relieved me to hear he spoke English. Hatzis had left after getting me up to speed on what was going to happen with Junior, and I’d been concerned about my ability to communicate ever since.

  “Yes, that’s me. Is Agent Chapman doing alright?” I asked immediately.

  “He’s fine,” the doctor assured me with a warm smile. “We ran a series of tests, including an X-ray and an MRI. There were no broken bones or any serious neurological damage, no internal bleeding, and pretty much everything looks normal from what we can see. He did have some bruising on his face and head, which will probably last a few weeks, but aside from that, there’s nothing to worry about right now.”

  “He was acting strange, though,” I said. I was glad to hear that he was fine, but I still wanted to make sure they weren’t overlooking anything. “He seemed confused, or like he suddenly forgot where he was or what he was doing.”

  “That’s normal with this kind of concussion,” the doctor said, speaking calmly and soothingly in a way that reminded me of Junior. “When he was hit, and when he hit the ground, the force of the impact caused his brain to bounce against his own skull. This can cause some pretty severe injuries, which is the reason for all the tests, but fortunately, it seems that there wasn’t any serious injury here.”

  He continued, “That being said, any time there is trauma to the brain, there’s a possibility of a change in the way the brain functions, even if just for a little while. So it’s normal for people to seem confused, or to have issues with memory, or even to have visual or auditory hallucinations.”

  That would definitely explain why he’d been acting so weird all day and why he hadn’t said anything. If his brain wasn’t working correctly, then he probably wasn’t making the most logical decisions.

  “So, what happens now?” I asked. “Does he need medication or anything?”

  “Well, there isn’t anything we can really give him for the concussion itself,” He informed me. “The only thing we could really do is provide medication for the pain. All we can really do for a concussion is to ask that he rest, physically and mentally. This means no sports or other intense activities. Limit any screen time. Really, rest is the only treatment for a concussion.”

  The doctor smiled sheepishly, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. Junior and I were federal agents and currently on a mission overseas. It would be impossible for us to stay away from situations that were physically or mentally stressful.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “How is he now? Is he awake?”

  “He’s still asleep,” the doctor nodded. “It’s a side effect of the painkillers we administered. And actually, contrary to popular belief, sleep is actually good for healing a concussion, so the longer he rests, the better.”

  “I’ll come back later, then,” I said, not wanting to interrupt Junior’s sleep.

  I excused myself before walking out of the waiting room and down into the lobby of the hospital. It was a relief to hear that, aside from some bruising, Junior would make a full recovery. Now that I was less anxious, I turned my focus back to the mission. I called Hatzis, who had taken the car with him when he returned to the station. Since I now had no means of transportation, I asked if someone could come to pick me up from the hospital and drive me down to the jail that Illias Galanis was being held in. Once I had done that, I dialed Nelson’s number, ready to relay the day’s progress as I waited for the car to arrive.

  25

  Charlie

  The jail where Illias was being held was only a fifteen-minute drive from the hospital, but it was enough time for me to prepare for the interrogation. Where Junior was soft-spoken and used kindness to coax answers out of people, I was much less patient and tended to rely more on intimidation and mind games to get what I wanted. I’d managed to get Illias to confess to deliberately crashing the ferry out on the dock, and I knew that I could get more out of him by applying a little pressure.

  We pulled up to the police station, and I wasted no time in getting out and heading straight inside. My heart was pumping with anticipation, and I was eager to start questioning this guy. Before heading to the interrogation room, I made a quick stop at the staff room where their printer was located. I plugged my laptop into the printer and printed out copies of all the pages from the ledger Castillo had found back at the warehouse in Las Vegas, as well as the list of suspected identities that Gardner had compiled regarding all the truck drivers operating within the United States. I hoped that being confronted with this evidence would be enough to scare Illias into spilling more information.

  Illias was already in the interrogation room when I arrived, dressed in a drab gray set of clothes with his hands cuffed together in front of him. My temper flared as I saw him. Seeing him reminded me of that poor bird that had drowned and of my partner, who was currently in the hospital, but I pushed those feelings down. I thought of i
nterrogations like a mental game of chess, or maybe poker. The less you revealed about yourself and the more you got under your opponent’s skin, the more likely you were to win.

  I dropped heavily into the chair in front of him, eyeing him without saying anything. People didn’t like long silences. It unnerved them. I’d found, even outside of work, that one of the best ways to get people to talk about something was to just watch them expectantly. Nine times out of ten, the silence would get to be too much, and they’d eventually say something. If nothing else, I hoped it would psych Illias out enough for him to slip up when I actually did start interrogating him.

  It seemed to be working, as Illias’s face became progressively redder and contorted in anger as I continued to stare at him silently.

  “What the hell are you looking at?” he said finally, practically growling.

  “I was just wondering how someone even comes up with a plot this complex,” I said slowly, almost bored. “I mean, slapping logos on the trucks to disguise what was really inside? This whole complicated transport system you’ve got going on? It seems like so much detail went into the planning that I have to wonder who else got involved.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Illias spat venomously.