by R E Swirsky
CHAPTER 60
Friday 19:50 Paris, France
It was the most eerie of days. The sky was a cornflower blue all day, and not a single cloud intruded anywhere in the air above Paris. But now, as evening settled in, the colour in the sky shifted, deepening to a rich azure. But it wasn’t just the sky that cast an unsettling blanket over Nathaniel. It was the silence from his cell phones. Neither phone received an incoming call since Kaito’s last message days ago.
Dinner was finished and his family was back at the hotel, tired from another day on the town. Nathaniel excused himself so he could regroup his thoughts properly. He stepped outside, adjusted his cowboy hat, and headed north. He headed that way for no particular reason. A good walk is all he wanted to get his blood circulating.
Five minutes later, he found himself in front of Square Pablo Casals. The modern square was bustling with activity. Children played in the sandpit and all four outdoor table tennis tables were occupied. Mothers sat on benches under the chestnut trees and many others mulled about, people-watching, reading a magazine, or strolling about the square with a cell phone in one palm. It struck him how centre-focused all of them were, as if they were hunkered down into their own little world, completely unaware of anything but their own personal existence.
He spotted an open bench next to some lilac bushes and sat down. He watched the children playing in the sand, listening as they made up stories and fantasies about another place and time. There were a number of single people present. They, too, were in their own little worlds. If he wanted to, he could prey on any one of these people right now and not one would have any notion of where he had come from or why they were randomly assaulted. They were so deeply consumed into themselves, completely unaware of the intentions or state of mind and potential actions of the numerous people standing only a few feet away.
Bubbles. That’s what he was seeing. All these people in Square Pablo Casals were encased in their own self-manufactured bubbles.
Bubbles.
The odd perception caused him to chuckle as he reflected on the past week and what he had just been through. He had been sequestered inside his own little bubble, only popping his head out when necessary to be with Diane and the girls.
And who had created the bubble that encapsulated him?
“Geordie,” he whispered.
Of course it was Geordie. The construction began the very moment he arrived up at La Sapiniere. It was the verbal push and dance carefully choreographed by Geordie. The aggressive attack was followed by logic and reason and then another undressing and more manipulation. By the time he left La Sapiniere, he was fully encased.
And why? The answer to that was obvious, too.
“To allow Lucas and Jack to step in to contain Kaito and to keep me off balance,” he whispered. He wiped one hand across his brow. He wasn’t sweating; he just needed to feel his hand near his brain to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“Shit,” he whispered quietly as he understood more about Kaito’s actions. “Kaito wasn’t straying…not really.”
And each follow-up phone call from Geordie was meant to strengthen the bubble so Jack and Lucas could continue to do what it was they had come out to do. Both acted in a supportive way, but in reality, they were only present for one purpose: to ensure Kaito’s mission was completed and to keep Nate on his heels and away from discovering the truth.
He nodded. It made sense. His anger at Geordie grew as he recollected more of what Geordie had said and done. “You bastard,” he whispered and shook his head. This was no rogue action. It was a well-choreographed conspiracy led by Geordie, and it pained him now to believe that Kaito was possibly used this way.
And where was Kaito now?
Anger at Jack swelled next. The always helpful and obedient Jack fed him information day after day. Always feeding and feeding, while at the same time asking what he thought, what they should do next, what he thought was the motive behind Kaito’s actions—never offering up his own opinions, just constantly probing him with question after question. He now understood what Jack was doing. He was watching and probing in case Kaito slipped the truth out in one of his calls, or checking to see if he figured it out in some other way all on his own.
“But I did figure it out,” he said and stood up. And with that thought, the words between himself and Richard Crowder followed him. Accidents that aren’t accidents. They seem like accidents, but my wife and I have a feeling they weren’t just accidents. The Crowders were figuring it out too, and that worried him.
A few moments later, he was back on the sidewalk on path to his hotel. Kaito was right when he taunted him about his inability to go through with terminating Johnny. It was the hardest thing for him to intentionally cause harm to one who didn’t deserve it. And just like the uncertainty he had with Johnny, the Crowders had also unknowingly stepped into a place they were not prepared to be.
The Order had changed since its inception. The actions and movements over the last few days, full of coercive and misleading activities within the Order’s own members, were proof of how drastically things had changed. Lies, cover-ups, and deceit were running rampant.
Nathaniel pulled out his cell, scrolled through his recent callers, and placed the call he had been putting off. He knew this one was the right one to make.