by L. T. Ryan
“OK. What’s this have to do with—“
“I’m getting to that.” Esau sipped from his mug, set it down, and folded his hands in his lap. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The wrinkles on his face sagged. “I can still picture the things we did. Countrymen killing countrymen. Worse than that, at times. Unspeakable things. Did your documentary cover that?”
He opened his eyes. They were covered with a thin film of mist.
I’d seen enough during my time at war that I didn’t need him to recount the details. I nodded. Saw Alik do the same.
Esau returned the gesture. “We never left each other’s side during those battles. We had made a pact, if one of us dies, the other would avenge him. And if we both died, well at least we’d go together.” He smiled for a second. “In those days, there were no loves of our lives. It was girl of the week, if you know what I mean. We were everything to each other. And we fought like it. I can’t count how many times he saved my ass. And I know I kept a bullet or knife or bayonet from slicing through his skin more than a couple times.”
He paused for a few moments. Forks clattering against plates and mugs pounding the tables in the dining room filled the silent void.
“So after the war, I was still a kid and he had turned twenty. I decided to come home. He stayed in the military for a while longer. Got stationed elsewhere, and over time we lost touch.”
“Happens all the time,” I said, remembering far too many friends I hadn’t spoken to in years. How many thought I was dead now? How many cared?
“I suppose,” Esau said. “And when we did catch up, it was always apparent how far apart the paths we had taken were.”
“Such as?”
“Me? I became a businessman. Opened a few restaurants in various places and then came here to retire. A farce, really. Because you can’t just stop doing what you love, right?” He paused, waiting for our acknowledgment. “So I opened this place with our savings.”
“And what of your friend?” Alik asked.
“He became a businessman of a different sort,” Esau said.
“A criminal,” I said.
Esau nodded. “Drugs, racketeering, smuggling. His own import, export, security services company, I guess. Started small, as most do, I suppose. Grew it quite large. He’s a powerful man now.”
“How close have you two been since 1950?” Alik asked.
“We haven’t talked regularly,” Esau said. “But, when you have two people who went through the things we did together, well, that takes the edge off of the decades. You know?”
I watched him fidget with a pen for a few moments. “Did you ever work for him?”
Esau seemed taken aback by the question. “I’ve never been a criminal in my life. God knows I could have used the easy money. And it’s not like he never offered. But I couldn’t see myself doing that.”
“You lied to get into the army,” I said.
His cheeks burned red and he narrowed his eyes at me. “I did that to help defend my family and the families of those around me. Damned if the communists were going to take over my country and dictate my future.”
I raised a hand. “Fair enough. I’m just trying to get a handle on where this is going. Only thing I can figure after you telling this story is that you burned the guy at some point in the past, and now he’s collecting. Either the money or your niece’s head. I want to know why.”
Esau eased back in his chair again. His face went slack. The color drained from his cheeks. His eyelids dropped shut. He was completely still. If it weren’t for his ragged breathing, the result of his crooked nose, I would have thought he had died on the spot.
“The doctors said my wife, Eleni, would fare better by the sea. And an island setting like this would be best. No pollution. Less shit in the air. They felt this combined with regular treatments would be the way to cure her lung cancer. And it worked, for a while. It helped extend her life years past her original check out date.”
I’d heard the other side of the story from Isadora. Eleni’s sickness was the reason Isadora had come here years ago. After the woman passed, Isadora had hung around to help. Out of guilt, I supposed.
Esau continued. “When things got real bad, I mean, coughing blood, unstoppable coughing fits, pain beyond belief, they told me the only option was a radical procedure. The cancer had spread, you see, and they said the only way to stop it was this operation. Well, it cost over one hundred thousand U.S. dollars.”
“And you didn’t have that kind of money lying around,” I said.
He shook his head. “I’d tied what we had into the house and into this cafe. As much as we like to think our assets are liquid, the economy made it impossible to sell them quickly enough. And even if I had managed to, what then? She’d be healed, maybe, and we would be out of a home and business.”
“So you turned to the one guy you knew had the kind of money you needed.”
“Not at first. I begged family. Tried to take out a second loan on the business and the house. Sold off some things, collectibles, old items I’d treasured. In the end, I came up with ten thousand dollars. So, like you said, I took a plane, and a train, and rented a car, and visited my old friend. It was the first time I had seen him in over thirteen years. He’d aged better than I had. He had all the stress in the world, but you couldn’t tell it by looking at him.”
“What did he say when you asked?” Alik said.
“He told me no problem. Sent one of his guys to the safe. The guy returned with a suitcase with the money. That was it.”
“What kind of terms did he offer you?” I said.
Esau glanced up at the ceiling, smiled, shook his head, said, “Pay it back when you can.”
“And this was a few years back, right?” I said.
He nodded, said nothing.
“And how much have you paid him?” Alik said.
Esau looked away. Cleared his throat. Muttered something.
“Didn’t catch that,” I said.
Esau stared me down. “I said nothing.”
“And these men who’ve been bothering you?”
“His guys.”
“I thought so.” I looked at Alik for a moment, then back at Esau. “What was the arrangement again?”
Esau was fidgeting with his fingers and hesitated a moment before answering. In a meek voice, he said, “Ten thousand the first year, then twenty each year after.”
“So not quite the ‘pay it back when you can,’ that you mentioned.”
“He changed the terms on me.”
“When?”
“After Eleni died.”
Chapter 16
ALIK AND I RETREATED TO our apartment. We only had four or so hours until seven. Until the instructions arrived. We spent an hour scouring the place for anything I could use as a weapon. It had to be something easy to conceal. I was about to walk into a hornet’s nest, dealing with men who worked for one of Greece’s biggest criminals. Damned if I was doing it naked.
We went over the things Esau had said. It added up, to a point. He spoke of their friendship in a way that nothing could break the bond. I knew what it was like to bleed with a friend. To risk everything to save their life, and have them do the same in return. My old partner Bear could call me any time of day or night, and from anywhere in the world, and I’d show up in a heartbeat even if it meant taking a bullet for him.
And while a hundred thousand was a lot of money, it sounded like peanuts to Kostas. I could see him shaking down his old friend to instill a bit of fear as payback, but then writing it off as a bad debt and moving on. Why go after Esau like this? Hell, why go after Isadora? If Esau had the money, he’d have paid. There was nothing to gain here.
“Maybe he’s got the cash somewhere,” I said.
Alik stopped what he was doing and turned to me. “Why do you say that?”
“Why else would this guy kidnap Isadora? If Esau can’t pay up, they gotta kill her. What good does that do anyone? Just take him o
ut and be done with it.”
“They want him to suffer,” Alik said.
“He’s already lost his wife,” I said.
“Guess it’s possible he didn’t care about her.”
“He moved here for her.”
“I don’t know, Jack. I don’t care. I hate how far this has gone. I think we need to scrap this plan and call the police.”
“No. We do that, Isadora dies.”
“We don’t do that and you die. Then her. Then Esau. And maybe me after that. If they don’t get me, Frank Skinner will.”
“So leave if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid, Jack. I just don’t want to see you killed over something that isn’t your battle.”
“I’ve made it my battle.”
“Why?” He held his hands up and had a dumbfounded look on his face.
“Haven’t you ever found yourself so close to a situation that you took on the problem as your own?”
“Sure, but with people I knew and cared for.”
“So maybe I care for Esau.”
“You and I both know that’s bullshit, Jack.”
I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. I do care for Isadora, though.”
“Why? You hardly know her.”
“I know her well enough. She reminds me of someone back home. A woman I was entrusted to take care of. A woman I’ve been in and out of love with for years.”
“And are you in or out right now?”
“Not sure. Haven’t had time to think about it.”
Alik laughed. “You’ve had all the time in the world while stuck up here nursing your wounds.”
I shrugged, said nothing.
“We should call the cops,” he said.
“We can’t.”
“So we do nothing?”
“No, I go wherever Kostas wants me to go.”
“Esau hasn’t even agreed. And it sounds like he doesn’t have the money, so what’s the point?”
“He doesn’t need it.”
“You think you can take on all these men by yourself?”
“Probably not.”
Alik took a seat on the couch. “Then we have to come up with a way for me to follow you.”
“That could get us all killed.”
“We’re all dead anyway. Might as well be proactive about it.”
I crossed the room and stood in front of the window and lifted it open. Warm air billowed past, carrying the scent of a fresh catch. Down the coast four fishing vessels were pulling in.
“We should go see Esau,” I said.
We left the apartment, headed down the stairs, stepped into the cafe. It was a quarter full, with half the patrons on the terrace. The old men looked away as we made the short trip to Esau’s office.
He was sitting in his ratty chair, head leaned back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
I rapped my knuckles against his door.
Esau didn’t move.
I knocked again. Alik cleared his throat.
“What?” Esau said, his voice raspy.
“Have you thought about what you are going to do?” Alik asked.
“Do?” Esau’s head rolled forward. His hands lifted from his lap and he draped them and his arms over his desk. He looked up from his hunched posture. “What do you mean, what am I going to do? You talk as though I have options here.”
“You have some,” I said.
“What?”
“They want me. You can send me.”
“Empty handed? You’ll be a dead man.”
“If they can kill me.”
“No offense, Jack,” Esau said. “I understand who you are and the things you have done. But you are a shell of that man right now.”
Alik placed his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off.
I said, “I’m the best option you’ve got unless you’re willing to trade your life for hers. Are you prepared to do that?”
Esau looked down at the space between his steepled hands. His tongue clicked as he licked his lips. A grunt of a word slipped out.
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He looked up, eyebrows raised, forehead folded into a dozen wrinkles. “So what do we do?”
“How much cash do you have lying around?”
Esau glanced up at the ceiling. His gaze remained fixed. He wasn’t mentally counting or thinking about his bank accounts.
“What’s up there?” Alik said.
Esau shrugged, said nothing.
I grabbed one of the fold-up chairs and placed it in the middle of the room. The chair looked like it could hold a guy maybe half my size. I ignored the pain in my hip and planted my left leg on it. Pressed down. Wiggled side to side to inch the chair closer to center.
“Be ready to catch me,” I said to Alik. Then I stepped up and angled my head to the right to keep from hitting the ceiling with it. I extended both arms and pushed the ceiling tile up and set it to the right. I stuck my head into the hole. It was dark and dusty and smelled like coffee and donuts, just like Esau’s office.
“See anything?” Esau asked.
I blinked and my eyes adjusted to the light. In front of me there was nothing. To the right, nothing. Same on the opposite side. I shuffled in a circle on the chair like a ballerina until I was a hundred and eighty degrees from where I started.
“There it is,” I said.
“What?” Alik said.
“Found it,” I said, pulling my head out of the hole. I jumped off the chair. Slid it five feet toward the door, then hopped back up. This tile took a little more force to move. I punched the corners a couple times to free it. Then I reached into the attic and grabbed the canvas bag. It was heavy and full so that the sides puffed out. It slid across the tile with a hiss. I leaned to the side and lowered it down to Alik, then rejoined him on the ground.
“How much is in there?” Alik asked Esau.
The old man shrugged and looked away.
“Count it,” I said to Alik.
Dust rose as he slapped the bag. He wiped off the zipper and pulled it back. Reached inside and grabbed a brick of bills.
“It’s about twenty thousand U.S.,” Esau said.
“Not near enough,” Alik said.
“But it might buy us Isadora’s life,” I said.
“Or it might get yours extinguished,” Alik said.
“Maybe, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
Alik set the bag on the chair and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked past me at Esau. “It should be you going, old man. You should own up to your mistake.”
Esau rose, cheeks burning. He aimed a loaded finger at Alik. “I did what he asked. How was I supposed to know he’d call the loan like this? I don’t have that kind of money just laying around.”
Alik grabbed the bag and held it in front of his chest. “You had this, you old fool. You could have bought time with it. Instead you kept it squirreled away. What were you going to do with this money? Huh? Is it more important than your niece’s life?”
Esau stepped around his desk and bulldozed his way toward Alik. He grabbed hold of the bag and started yanking. Wads of cash fell to the floor. The old man yelled and swung and stumbled and crashed into the wall and fell to the floor.
Footsteps echoed into the office like rumbling thunder. Five old men stood outside the door, staring in.
“It’s all right, fellas,” I said.
Esau sat up. Wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked at the guys and waved them off. “It’s OK.”
The men retreated. I closed the door and stood between Esau and Alik. I held the men at arm’s length.
“This is how this is gonna go. I’m taking this money. And Esau, if you have any more, you better let me know. I don’t care if it’s cash, stocks, bonds, a title to a house in Siberia, I want it available to negotiate with.”
He shook his head. “That’s all I got other than the house and this place, and there’s no equity in either.
”
I glanced at Alik. He shrugged. We had to take the old man at his word, which wasn’t that solid.
“Fair enough, I guess. We’re gonna get the call or message or carrier pigeon or whatever at seven. That’s four hours from now. I need to rest up. Esau, you do whatever you can to get me a decent weapon. One for Alik, too.”
“They said alone,” Esau said.
“I know,” I said.
“Let us handle that part of it,” Alik said.
Chapter 17
SOMEHOW I MANAGED TO SLEEP for three hours. I woke up a quarter after six as the sun dipped low behind the building, casting shadows over the terrace and the rocky beach. The wind had picked up. So had the waves. The sound of them crashing against the shore carried up the side of the building and rumbled in the apartment.
I started a pot of coffee and pulled some cooked ground lamb out of the fridge. Poured some olive oil in a cast iron skillet. Heated it all up. By the time the coffee was ready, so was the meat.
The muted light and sound of the rolling waves made it feel as though I was at a yoga retreat. It helped clear my cluttered mind. I isolated my thoughts and destroyed them one at a time until all I had left was the sequence of events ahead of me. Problem was, after arriving at the location they were to provide at seven, I had no idea how things would go. There were too many unknown variables.
Sure, I could visualize the ideal scenario, at least for the situation. But what then? What if there was a wild card? That, I told myself, was my specialty. I was the guy who they sent in when the mission had no set path to reach the objective. Getting Isadora back was no different. It required the specific mix of talent that I brought to the table.
The door opened up as I dropped my fork on the empty plate. Swirls of olive oil remained. Alik walked in. He carried a plain brown bag in one arm. The canvas money bag in the other.
“He cleaned out his bank account,” Alik said. “Another three grand for you to use.”
I nodded. “Weapons?”