Dark Shadows of the Past

by Angel Sefer

  From the corner of her eye, a golden blur leaped from the bushes and latched onto the man. He released her arm, and she spun around to see Champion holding him down. Silently thanking the dog, she took off uphill. She’d almost reached the top when she heard a gunshot…

  ***

  Adriano kept his eyes on the road while Roberto sped like a bat out of hell, driving up the mountain. His mind worked overtime as excitement mixed with anxiety made his heart thunder in his chest. He’d made it at last… He was only one step away from achieving his goal—to kill Antonio Rosetti and take over the organization and the Rosetti’s fortune.

  Christina was going to help him with that. He’d known about her for a while, ever since the FBI had found her in Birmingham. From then on, he’d kept an eye on her, waiting to use her when the time was right. And the time was right now…

  He was furious that his associates, who had attacked Meyers in his apartment, almost got her killed. Elated by his luck that she survived, he had her abducted from the hospital to use her to blackmail Meyers into turning over the taped conversation of that idiot Beavers, talking shit-faced drunk to the mob’s attorney Lionel Berkley. His man inside the FBI had informed Adriano that Beavers had mentioned about his relationship with Paolo and that he suspected Adriano was responsible for the mobster’s death.

  That idiot, Beavers! Adriano cursed under his breath. He almost ruined everything…

  ***

  The blast of the shot made Christina stop dead in her tracks. Oh, my God, I hope Champion is okay. She glanced behind, torn up inside. Now what? Should I go back or try to reach the main road and get some help? I have to go on, she urged herself, knowing that she couldn’t do much against someone holding a gun. Flames of anger engulfed her as she started running again.

  Reaching the main road, she ran toward the rental office. Devastated, she realized no cars were around. Well, maybe there is someone inside, she hoped. Rushing up the stairs, she started banging on the door. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to be inside or anywhere around. Desperate, she cried out for help but nothing.

  I can’t waste any more time here, she decided and ran back down the steps. She reached the main road and ran toward the village. Coming around a turn, she saw a car approaching. Without a second thought, she jumped out in the middle of the road, waving frantically for it to stop. “Help!” she screamed. “Please, help me!”

  The car came to an abrupt stop, and Christina rushed toward it. The doors opened, and she was shocked to see Adriano and Roberto, the guy who had come to her room when she was kept captive at that mansion, getting out of the car. Frightened out of her wits, she fled toward the woods. The deafening blast of a gunshot stung her eardrums while a sharp pain scorched her arm. She hit the ground, and within seconds, they caught up with her. Seeing Adriano leaning over her, she went mad with fear and fury and started hitting and kicking him, frantically. The other guy pulled her away from Adriano, and the two of them dragged her to the car and threw her in the back seat. Then they jumped inside, made an abrupt U-turn, and sped down the road.

  Christina leaned breathless against the window, looking outside. She thought she heard a couple more shots, but couldn’t be sure. Maybe it’s Dan, she thought hopefully. Maybe he saw them grabbing me, and he’s coming after us. Her heart sank, seeing Dan’s car driving by, going in the opposite direction toward the cabin. Oh! No! He didn’t see us, she realized, devastated. God! Please protect him! she prayed, thinking that Johnny and the other guy might still be down at the cabin. What a mess? she thought and looked down at her bleeding arm. She was hurting pretty bad and felt woozy. The car was speeding around the curves, and Christina was about to throw up.

  She clenched her fists as wild thoughts were going through her mind. What if she opened the door and jumped out of the speeding car? She would be killed for sure, but maybe that was better than the fate that awaited her where they were heading. No, she decided. If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her, right then and there. It was something else they wanted from her…

  Coming around a corner, Roberto pulled over to the side and stopped.

  “What is it?” Adriano asked alarmed.

  “I have to wrap something around her arm. She’s bleeding,” Roberto replied.

  “Let her bleed,” Adriano said in a cold voice.

  “She’s going to get blood all over the car,” Roberto pointed out and climbed out, walking around the back. He took something out of the trunk and came to open the back door.

  Christina watched him cautiously as he tightly wrapped a piece of cloth around her bleeding arm.

  Then he jumped back into the driver’s seat and took off again.

  Her mind was working overtime thinking about vengeance for the unfair loss of her mother and what she had to go through hiding her entire life. Astonished by the hatred and determination that ignited inside her, she realized that maybe she had inherited some of her father’s qualities, after all. No matter what, she wasn’t going down without a fight…

  ***

  Dan drove down the dirt road leading to the cabin. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his guts. He’d had this weird feeling all day long. He didn’t want to leave Christina’s side, but he had to meet Miles. They had talked the day before and had arranged for a meeting this morning. Miles would drive up here and meet him half way. He sounded worried and upset, so Dan had agreed to the appointment.

  Now, he was even more worried. Miles had told him that there were some strange things going on and that the FBI was involved, and he had a feeling that they were withholding information from the police. Miles believed that the FBI knew where Dan and Christina were. Maybe they had located the cabin, using the tracking device that was installed in Dan’s car in case it was stolen.

  Driving down the road, Dan was thinking that Miles didn’t seem to trust Powell, after all. He’s probably right, he thought. I don't trust that guy, either. He’s holding back on us. Besides, he could never forgive Powell for getting Christina into this mess.

  Pulling up in front of the cabin, he glanced around for the dog. He was nowhere to be found. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t seen the dog since the night before. Maybe he went back to his previous owner, or wherever he was before he came here.

  Staring at the cabin, he realized that Christina hadn’t come out to meet him. Anxiously, he rushed inside, calling out for her. No answer! He checked the cabin—she was nowhere to be found. He came back outside and scanned the surroundings, calling her name over and over again. Dead silence!

  Worried sick, he reached for his gun and stormed into the woods. He followed the trail to the creek and noticed some footsteps on the other side. He crossed over and climbed up the hill, staying alert the whole time. His mouth was dry, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He knew something had happened to her. If only he could find her in time…

  The ground was slippery, and he had to be very careful, climbing up the hill. He was searching right and left, calling her name. All of a sudden, he tripped over something and almost fell to the ground. Holding on to some branches to steady himself, he glanced down. “Damn!” he cursed out loud, seeing that he had tripped over the leg of an animal lying still.

  “Champ!” he cried out and removed the branches covering the body of the dog. He leaned closer and saw blood on the animal’s chest—it’d been shot.

  “Damn!” Dan cursed out and frantically looked around. Who could have done this and where was Christina? What had they done with her? He started up the hill again, furiously clenching his fist around the gun.

  He called her name one more time and thought he heard some noise to his right. He turned and started searching through the trees and bushes, calling her over and over again. He heard branches breaking and turned to get closer to where the noise came from. Coming around a big trunk, he saw a man on the ground, facedown, trying to hold on to some branches to stand up. He pointed his gun at him and yelled, “Don’t move!”

  The ma
n froze where he was. Dan approached carefully and ordered the man to turn over slowly.

  “Who are you?” Dan inquired.

  “Take it easy,” the man replied, turning slowly on his back with great effort.

  Dan noticed a big blood stain on the guy’s chest. “Who are you?” he insisted, still pointing the gun at the guy.

  “I’m Johnny Meyers,” the guy replied.

  “Who?” Dan asked, puzzled.

  “Johnny Meyers or Powell, whatever,” the guy repeated, frustrated. “FBI!”

  “So you’re Johnny?” Dan said and approached carefully. “Do you have any identification?”

  The guy pointed to his pocket, and Dan carefully reached and took the guy’s wallet out to check his ID.

  “Johnny Meyers, FBI agent.”

  “Yes!” the guy cried out and tried to stand up, but fell back down.

  “What are you doing up here?” Dan inquired.

  “I came for Christina, but she got scared and ran away,” Meyers replied, frustrated.

  Dan glanced around him worried. “We have to find her,” he said.

  “Yes!” Meyers agreed. “She’s in danger. Somehow, they found out where she was.”

  “Who?” Dan asked.

  “Reynolds and his people,” Meyers responded.

  “How did they find out?” Dan insisted.

  Meyers avoided Dan’s look.

  “How did they find out?” he insisted.

  “We traced your car and knew you were hiding up here,” Meyers said and swallowed hard.

  “And?”

  “It seems that there was a leak,” Meyers admitted, shifting uncomfortably.

  “Damn!” Dan cursed out. “These people have informers everywhere.”

  He took a quick look around and then glanced back at Meyers. “We have to get to Christina. Do you think they’ve caught up with her?”

  “They’ve taken her,” Meyers admitted, breathing heavily.

  “What do you mean?” Dan asked, breathless.

  “I saw Adriano Reynolds and Roberto Fellini grabbing her and abducting her in their car.”

  “So they saw you, too, and shot you,” Dan assumed.

  “No!” Meyers said.

  Dan glanced at him surprised. “Then who shot you?”

  Meyers remained silent for a moment.

  “Listen!” Dan burst out frustrated. “Christina is in trouble, and like it or not, we have to cooperate if we want to find her in time.”

  “It was my partner,” Meyers confessed, and Dan’s eyes opened wide with surprise.

  “What?” he asked in disbelief.

  “My partner shot me,” Meyers repeated. “And left me for dead.”

  “Shit!” Dan burst out. “At least we know now who the leak was.” His mind was working double time, trying to assess the situation. “Can you walk?” he asked.

  “I think so,” Meyers replied.

  “Come on!” Dan said. “I'll get you back to the cabin and then call for help.”

  He helped Meyers back to the cabin and laid him down on the sofa. Then he called Miles, explaining to him what had happened and giving him the description of Reynolds’s car.

  Miles was going to inform the FBI about their wounded agent and have them send a helicopter to pick up Meyers. He was also going to send a police helicopter to search the area for Reynolds’s car.

  Dan was waiting for the helicopter outside. At some point, he went back inside to check on Meyers. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m okay,” Meyers responded. “I’m just worried about Christina. I feel responsible for all this.”

  “And you should!” Dan burst out. “You should have kept her away from those people.”

  “I know,” Meyers admitted and clenched his fists.

  “By the way, who killed my dog?” Dan asked, and Meyers stared at him, surprised.

  “What dog?” he asked. “I didn’t see any dog.”

  “I found it shot on the trail going up the hill. I guess it was probably your partner who shot it.”

  “So that’s what it was,” Meyers said, and Dan glanced at him puzzled.

  “Chasing after Christina, I heard a shot. I didn’t know what it was and rushed as fast as I could. I made it up the trail and saw Christina running out on the main road, waving down a car to stop. I saw the car stopping and Reynolds and Fellini getting out of it and grabbing her. I tried to get closer, but I ran into my partner, who shot me. I fired back at him, but he managed to get away. I looked back, and the car had already turned around and was speeding down the road. I chased after Nick, my partner and made it to the point where you found me. I was bleeding pretty bad and couldn’t make it any farther. I must have passed out and came around when I heard your voice calling out for Christina.”

  Meyers stopped talking and starting coughing violently.

  “Try to relax. Help should be here any minute now,” Dan said and walked back outside. He waited for the helicopter and jumped in his car as soon as they arrived to take Meyers. He stormed down the road like a maniac, keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious. Flying through Helen, back toward Atlanta, he saw the police helicopter flying over him, searching the area. Meyers wasn’t sure for how long he’d been lying there, so they couldn’t be sure about the time that Christina was abducted.

  Halfway down the mountain, he passed police cars coming up. He kept radio contact with Miles and the helicopter, but nothing…no sign of Reynolds or Christina.

  ***

  Feeling the car coming to an abrupt stop, Christina open her eyes, startled. She must have passed out, she realized, and glanced around disoriented, trying to locate where a very loud noise was coming from. The two men had already jumped out of the car, and Adriano opened the back door. Grabbing her by her wounded arm, he dragged her out of the car.

  Christina felt a sharp pain and bit her lower lip to prevent herself from screaming. She was weak and couldn’t feel her legs. Roberto had grabbed her by the other arm before she hit the ground. They both dragged her to a helicopter waiting with the engine on. They boarded the chopper, and it immediately took off. Christina—dizzy from the pain, the fear, and the whole ordeal—threw up.

  Roberto, who was sitting in the back next to her, cursed out loud. Reynolds didn’t pay any attention and just told Roberto to give her some paper towels.

  Christina took the towels, wiped her mouth, and then leaned back on the seat and closed her eyes. She didn’t care anymore. She could die right here and now. She was in too much pain and felt too sick to worry about anything.

  ***

  She lost track of time and opened her eyes only when she felt the helicopter lowering down. Glancing out the window, she saw that they were landing in an airport field. A private jet was parked next to them with the engines humming. Now what? she wondered. Where am I? She saw a couple men running in their direction. The helicopter landed, and Adriano jumped out first, talking to the men. Roberto dragged her out and pushed her to one of the men waiting.

  “Take her on board!” he ordered the man.

  The man dragged Christina up the ladder and on board the jet. They walked into the main cabin, which was more of a living room than the cabin of a plane, and down a corridor with doors on both sides. The man stopped outside a door, opened it, and shoved Christina inside. She fell on the thick carpet and lay there for a few minutes, unable to move. When the pain subsided a little bit, she tried to sit up.

  Glancing around, she saw she was in a luxurious bedroom with a large bed, two leather reclining chairs, a bar in the corner, and a large screen TV on the wall opposite to the bed. From an opened door, she could see a bathroom.

  She crawled to one of the chairs and pulled herself up to sit on it. Feeling dizzy, she leaned back and drew a few deep breaths, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. She glanced down at her arm. It seemed that the bleeding had stopped. Thank God, the bullet only scraped the skin, she thought. It hurts badly, but it’ll be okay, as long as I
put some disinfectant on it.

  She glanced over at the bathroom. I need to wash it, she thought. I might even find some alcohol or something to put on it.

  She was about to stand up when the door opened, and a short, bulky man appeared at the entrance.

  “Hello,” he said and approached Christina cautiously.

  “Who are you?” she inquired, cautiously.

  “Don’t worry. I’m a doctor,” he replied. “I came to take a look at your arm.”

  Only then did Christina notice the medical bag he was caring.

  He unwrapped the blood-stained cloth from her arm and examined the wound. Then he walked to the bathroom and came back with a clean, wet towel. After he had cleaned the wound, he put some peroxide on it and wrapped a bandage around it.

  “Thank you,” Christina whispered as the doctor left without saying a word.

  After the door had closed behind him, she stood up and walked over to the windows to see what was going on outside. By the time she reached the window, the plane had started moving on the airstrip. Anxiously, she scanned her surroundings. This was definitely not the Atlanta airport, but other than that, she had no idea where she was.

  As the plane picked up speed, she sat back down on the recliner. Amazed to find a seatbelt, she buckled it up.

  The plane took off smoothly, and Christina sat there, fuming. How the hell am I going to get out of this mess? she wondered, and her thoughts flew to Dan, wondering whether he was all right or not. And what about Johnny? What had happened up there in the mountains had gotten her all confused. By now, she had realized that he wasn’t to be trusted, but she couldn’t believe that he would turn on her like that.

  Feeling exhausted, she decided to lie down and rest. She needed her strength for whatever awaited her where they were going.

  Chapter Twelve

  ANTONIO ROSETTI PACED back and forth on the balcony of his mansion on the Greek island of Kefalonia, thankful he was back on the island after the ordeal with the raid on the convoy in the States. He walked over to the edge and leaned against the iron railings, letting his eyes wander over the breathtaking view. His luxurious mansion was built high up on a cliff. The huge balcony provided a spectacular panorama of Myrtos Beach—the trademark of Kefalonia with numerous international awards as one of the best beaches in the Mediterranean Sea. This view—green rocks slopping down to a long, white pebble beach, and the turquoise and sapphire waters of the Ionian Sea—always made him feel like he was at the top of the world. He was filthy rich and one of the most powerful men in both Greece and the United States, as well. He owned properties, hotels, casinos, restaurants, and other businesses, not to mention his other more profitable and less legitimate activities. However, nowhere else in the world gave him the same feeling as when he stood on the balcony of his mansion here on the island.