by James Hudson
“It’s all right,” she nodded. “Tell me, is there anything more valuable to you than money?”
George sighed. “I don’t know. Because I’m not sure who I am.”
Suddenly he remembered something and asked, “Do you have Internet on your cell phone?”
Sarah glanced at him wonderingly. “Something urgent?”
“Yes. Will you share the Internet?”
“OK,” she shrugged indifferently. “So, I’ll use my phone as a Wi-Fi hotspot.”
“Thanks,” George nodded. “Connecting…”
Meanwhile, they’d already left London. They were flying over dark fields. Sarah started preparing for landing.
George Hartley kept silent. But something changed in his eyes. He didn’t respond to Sarah’s questions. He was completely tuned out to the world.
When they successfully landed in the field, and Sarah killed the engine and took off the headphones, George quickly shut the laptop’s lid and jumped outside.
“What happened?” Sarah cried out. “Tell me! Don’t go away!”
George turned to her and said quietly, “I have family, Sarah. I’m sorry.”
Then he disappeared into the darkness. His footsteps faded away.
35. An email
Sarah was stunned for a moment. Then she grabbed her cell phone and dialed the number.
“It’s me, Sarah. He’s just left me…”
“I thought you were a more experienced girl,” the voice said coldly.
“He told me that he had a family! What the hell?” Sarah exclaimed.
“I think it’s a ridiculous lie,” the voice said calmly. “He said that just to shock you.”
“I flirted with him. I told him the story of our relations over the phone while downloading data from his laptop. That guys in the hotel were tough. We nearly escaped.”
“People of Walter Schmidt. They were killed in the lobby.”
“Really?” Sarah asked quietly. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
“The commander?”
“He was the first.”
“By the police?”
“No. Our guys.”
“What?” Sarah cried.
“Calm down! I had to send mercenaries. We couldn’t let Hartley die!”
Sarah sighed heavily. “He’d deceived them! There was no need to kill them!”
“What happened after you escaped in our helicopter?” the voice asked coldly.
“During the flight, he asked me to share Wi-Fi. He opened his laptop and read something… his face changed. I swear he couldn’t recognize me at all!”
“Wow!” the voice grinned. “And certainly, you have no idea what actually shocked him?”
“He’s just walked away!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Well… actually, that’s not bad,” the voice muttered. “I mean, you didn’t follow him. That means you stopped loving him. At last.”
“Why?”
“Because if you really loved him, you would run after him without asking your boss what to do,” the voice grinned.
“I just didn’t know how to react! He’s so strange. He says that he remembers nothing. He always marches to his own drummer.”
“Oh, that’s real Hartley!” the voice chuckled. “You can’t crack him. But you should’ve convinced him that that was all just a game.”
“I pretended to be a stupid girl! He nodded and… I don’t know what’s on his mind. Anyway. He really changed since the poisoning.”
“All right. Listen to me, girl,” the voice said coldly. “Your primary mission is to protect his life. Don’t let him die. Because we need him alive. While Walter Schmidt and Ross joined financial forces and can’t wait to kill him, we must be on the opposite side.”
“I got you. Starting to pursue.” Sarah sighed.
“Yeah. Also, it would be great if you find out his plans for the future. I think he still doesn’t trust you. You’ve failed several times. You must be a great actress, Sarah. Unfortunately, we can’t replace you. You’re probably the only person who has some influence over him.”
George was running across the dark wood. The wet grass squelched under his feet. He wanted to hide somewhere, find a place with no Sarah, no people who want his money, find his home at last. He needed some secluded place for thinking. Now he felt that he had to stay alive.
India! Why the hell is India? How could I do this to my family? Why did I let them suffer?
Having stumbled upon the root, George stopped. He leaned back against the tree and opened the laptop. The Wi-Fi connection was lost. But the email text was on the screen. He re-read it.
“Hello, George! It’s me, Katie! Remember me? I’m the girl who was to deliver your money to India. I found that woman. We’re good friends now. She was happy to see me not because I gave her your money. She’s your wife, George. Shame on you that you didn’t tell me that. And your five-year-old son is with us too. He has your eyes.
I couldn’t even imagine what a bastard you were! It boggles my mind that you sent your wife here. You knew she was pregnant, son of a bitch! You fucking billionaire sent her to this bloody hell to deliver a child? To live here in the streets for five years is enough to hate you for the rest of her life. Even if you kill her, your son will take revenge on you! Thank God, they are safe now. They have food and clothes. I helped them. And regarding your money… It’ll backfire on you!
You did absolutely right that you sent me here. I’m a future reporter, remember? I’m sure your business reputation would hardly improve after the disclosure of this family secret…
Farewell, monster! Expect the worst!”
George sighed heavily. Holy shit! I talked with Ross about charity. Actually, I’d given away millions of dollars to charity. But I completely ignored my own family! Why? Why did I hate them?
I bought a Mercedes for one girl. I bought a Bentley for another – admin’s girl Lana. But I let my son starving on the streets of India. I wonder whether or not I’d remembered my family, waking up in the luxurious hotels, hugging sluts. I deserve their hatred. As I remember my wife’s email, I’d read in the skyscraper, that I’d made her sell everything and buy oil futures… And I must’ve opened short positions and made a couple of millions… Was my wife rich? How much money did she invest? I bet she wasn’t a millionaire. Most likely, I sponsored her. She depended on me. A pregnant woman is vulnerable…
Suddenly, George noticed a low Wi-Fi signal appeared at the top of the screen. Sarah! She’s following me!
George closed his laptop and started quickly walking further into the woods. So ridiculous! he thought. I’m running from the woman who loves me. And I want to see the woman who hates me and ask for forgiveness. I had successfully negotiated with dozens of richest and influential businessmen in the world. I convinced them to believe me. I persuaded them to deceive the world. My actions brought suffering to thousands of people who’d lost money in the financial markets. If these people knew what I’d done, they would spit on my grave. They would never bring flowers… Millions of people would curse me.
36. Run
Meanwhile, George left the woods and found himself on a narrow but busy road. He walked along the roadside, squinting into the dazzling headlights, looking over his shoulder incessantly. Soon he seized the opportunity and crossed the road. However, nobody was following him. A small building was glowing far ahead. A minute later, George discerned a petrol station. He saw a driver who was filling a tank of his Volkswagen. There was nobody around.
When George approached the station, the man hopped in and drove away. No one at all. I must quickly get out of here.
George entered the convenience store. It was nice and cozy. George quickly came up to the cashier.
“Good evening! My car has been broken. It’s a mile from here. Can I use your phone to call a cab?”
“Yeah. Sure! Also, we have free Wi-Fi.”
“Great! I’ll have a cup of coffee and this marvelous brioche. Oh… and a tra
vel bag for my documents and a laptop!”
“Here you are.”
George paid. Then he stole a glance outside. No sign of Sarah. George asked the address of where he actually was. Then he called a cab and sat in the far corner. The coffee was splendid, but George couldn’t enjoy it. His thoughts wandered to his family. How is it possible he couldn’t remember them at all? He checked the mailbox – no more emails. Then he visited YouTube and Instagram – a couple of likes and subscriptions, one stupid comment. But suddenly, he received one private message.
‘Hey, George! It’s Jack Morgan. Remember me? I’m your ex-classmate! I’m so happy to find you, mate! I’d love to meet you. I remember you’d always been busy when I tried to come into contact with you. But now, as you found time for Instagram, maybe you have a spare hour to have a little chat. At your leisure.’
George quickly sent him the message.
‘Hello, Jack! Of course, I remember you! Sorry for the long disappearance. I had problems with my health. Meet me in McDonald’s in a couple of hours. I’ll be there at 5 a.m.’ Then George opened Google maps and sent Jack the coordinates of 24-hour McDonalds in the center of London.
“Your cab has arrived,” the cashier remarked, peering into the headlights outside.
“Thanks!” George nodded, grabbed his gear, and headed for the exit. “By the way, a young blonde is looking for me. Tell her you’ve never seen me, OK?”
The cashier frowned but nodded uncertainly.
“Everything is fine,” George said. “We just can’t get along.”
He turned around and quickly walked out of the store. George shouldn’t draw attention to himself. He hopped in the cab, and it set off toward London. He didn’t notice a young woman with blonde hair hiding behind vending machines.
37. A New Friend
Sitting in McDonald’s, George checked the messages and received the reply from Jack, ‘I’m coming, man!’ George sighed with relief and ordered a huge breakfast.
I hope he’s a clearheaded person who is not obsessed with money, stocks, and financial machinations. Probably, Jack will be the person whom I can trust. If I tell him that I lost my memory, he will probably tell me something about my life. Did he know my family?
“George! Great to see you!” somebody exclaimed in front of George.
He raised his head and saw a strange pale-faced young man in a blue sweat suit. He was bald. He was smiling widely, but his eyes were sad. He looked either sleepy or exhausted.
“Long time no see!” George slapped him on the shoulder. “Jack?”
“Of course!” the young man grinned. “I changed a lot, huh? I thought we’d never meet again.”
“Well… I’ve got serious problems, Jack,” George said and gulped his coffee.
Jack nodded. “I read about you in the newspapers. Oh, I’d like donuts too…”
George grinned. “Eat mine!”
“Thanks!” Jack sat down and started eating greedily. His eyes expressed sorrow.
George stared at him surprisingly. “Are you OK? You look not great, Jack. Maybe coffee?”
Jack nodded, chewing. “I slept badly,” he said.
“Actually, I haven’t slept last night,” George smiled. “I was flying a helicopter.”
“Wow!” Jack exclaimed. “Splendid panoramic views?”
“Too dark,” George winced.
“If I could, I would fly to outer space!” Jack said solemnly. “And I wouldn’t be alone. A woman would join me. She would give birth to our baby.”
George frowned. “In the outer space?”
“Yes! Just imagine, George! My child would become a real spaceman!”
George smiled. “Would he stay there forever? Under conditions of zero gravity?”
“I would call him Spacey,” Jack stared at a fat donut.
George rolled up his eyes. I’m so tired of these freaks, he thought. Just no one to talk to!
“My child would be kind of God who would observe our planet from the outer space.”
“What’s the point?” George asked impatiently. “Would he ever return to people?”
“The point is, he would think as global as no human being on the Earth,” Jack replied. “Almost all the people are down-to-earth. I mean, they think about a boring daily routine. My space child would see through people, read them like a book.”
“I don’t get it,” George shook his head. “What would change if your child is born in the outer space? Would he peer into dark space while sucking breast milk? Would your child grow up without sunlight, without friends, with no possibility of getting out for a walk? Without fucking air at all!”
Jack Morgan raised his index finger. “You forgot one thing, George! He would be closer to God than any child in the entire universe.”
George rolled his eyes. “Man, I don’t believe in what I can’t see.”
Jack turned a deaf ear to him. “Children are the closest creatures to the Creator.”
“Like angels?” George chuckled.
“My child will descend upon the earth and create a team of little healers!” Jack exclaimed.
George sighed and laughed.
Jack went on. “They will go on a pilgrimage tour to heal sick grown-ups who do not lead a spiritual life.”
“And what would they do?” George asked mockingly.
“They would tell the grown-ups that God exists. Also, they would persuade the other kids not to obey grown-ups.”
George raised his eyebrows. “Do you think children are smarter than us?”
“Us?” Jack grinned. “I don’t make any difference between children and grown-ups. Because grown-ups are usually nasty, spoiled, vicious kids. Grown-ups are kids who pulled away from God…”
They both sat in silence for a while. The waiter brought black coffee and mineral water.
“What do you do, Jack?” George quickly dropped the subject.
“I work at the best place in the world.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” George smiled. What a freak! he thought disappointedly. “Church?” he asked.
“No! But it’s not far from there. Let’s go, man! I’ll show you my place. I swear you’ll like it! By the way, I promised my pal to come as soon as possible.” Jack jumped from the chair.
“Well… I don’t think it could be interesting,” George said hesitatingly.
“Man, I want you to see it! I dedicated my life to it!” Jack cried passionately. “If you don’t like it, you’ll just go away!”
“All right,” George nodded and rose to his feet. He still wanted to grill Jack about his own, George Hartley’s biography. But he couldn’t implicitly trust Jack.
“Do you have a car?”
“No. We’ll go on foot.”
George frowned. “Maybe we’ll get a cab?”
“No. I enjoy walking!” Jack exclaimed.
George stared at him – still sad eyes. How is it possible?
It was a cold early morning. George and Jack left the cafe and began quickly walking down the street. The sun hadn’t risen yet. Dark-grey pavements were wet with rain.
“Why did you want to meet me?” George asked.
“I just haven’t seen you for ages.”
“Do you remember when we met last time?”
“Yeah! It was a day… when your parents got divorced.”
“What?” George stopped, petrified. “Tell me… more about that day!”
“You don’t remember?” Jack stared at him.
George became confused. “I had some kind of disease after that,” he mumbled.
“Oh, I see,” Jack nodded. “Sorry… Well, I remember that day. You were severely depressed. You cut off all contacts with your friends.”
“Tell me everything!” George exclaimed.
“All right,” Jack sighed. “When you studied at school, you had a girlfriend. She was a lovely girl. Very smart, very sincere.”
George remembered the story that had been told by Walter Schmidt. He interrupted Jack
. “Look, one man told me that I’d never paid attention to girls, that I’d always been excited with building a successful career.”
“Probably,” Jack shrugged. “All I know that everyone thought that you’d been a great couple. You loved each other. But one day, your mother told you that she’d never loved your father, that she’d been waiting for your adulthood, not to cause mental harm to you. Actually, it was your eighteenth birthday. So, she wanted you to know the bitter truth. She told you that love was bullshit that never lasted more than several weeks or months, and that the real goal of every man should be maximizing profit.
I remember you were about to get married Emma. But when your mother persuaded you that that would be the worst decision in your life, that you shouldn’t ruin your life in the beginning, you were shocked two or three days. You left home soon. And no one saw you after that. I met some classmates who’d been closer to you. And once I met Emma.”
“Emma?” George twitched.
Jack nodded. “Emma Robinson, the girl you almost married.”
38. Corner of Happiness
“Emma Robinson? This is impossible!” George cried out. “She was the girl I worked with! The girl in the wheelchair.”
Jack glanced at him in horror. “In a wheelchair? Jesus! What happened? She’d never been a disabled person. She was pretty and smart. She always had a lot of admirers, but she always loved you. Is she all right now?”
George could hardly breathe. Everyone, just everyone who’d been mixed up with my activity, got into trouble! I brought evil to these people. I don’t think I killed Emma Robinson, but she was surely killed because of me. For what? Did she know much? Or they gave her the same poison? But the poison killed her. And nothing can be brought back. I must’ve trusted her all my life. She could mock me, make fun of me, tease me… But how could she love me if… she recorded those conversations on Saudi Arabia and Yemen developments to pass this information to the intelligence agents who had been absolutely sure that Emma had always hated me. Was she a great actress? I wouldn’t have trusted her if she had obviously hated me.