Here and Now

by Blake Haugen

  “I wish I could believe that, but can you honestly say you’ve never walked out of this apartment second guessing what the hell you just did? You can’t say there is nothing behind the way you check out and pull away when we’re done! Even tonight, I brought over Thies because I knew you’d always wanted to be with two men. You may have come a dozen times, but you weren’t satisfied when it was over. You were sad. I don’t know if it’s this Vanya or the alcohol, but in any case both are unacceptable to me.

  “And then there’s the problem of your shadow. The tall Asian one. You never told me about him either, but I’m not sure if you even know about him. His look screams covert military, which is something I will not deal with. I have my daughter here every other weekend and I won’t let anything as dangerous as that man anywhere near her.”

  Persephone glanced at the large photograph that sat on the mantle above the fireplace along with some smaller paintings. An adorable, chubby five or six year old strawberry blonde girl in a lilac sundress beamed as she swung forward on a playground swing. Persephone had never paid much attention to the fact that Ulrich had a child. The little girl was never there when she visited the apartment. She’d seen the kids’ snacks in the kitchen cupboard and the very yellow room filled with stuffed animals, but hadn’t given it a second thought at the time. Not wanting strange military men acquainted with the place your child slept was perfectly understandable. She’d unknowingly brought some of her bullshit into Ulrich’s life and apologized immediately.

  It was strange that Ulrich knew someone was following her. Hell, she didn’t even know. There weren’t too many East Asian paramilitary types on the streets of Geneva, and Persephone surmised Timothy had let Ulrich spot him in order to spook him off – a dick move if there ever was one.

  “When did you first see him?” Persephone demanded coldly.

  “So you do know him then?” Ulrich evaded. “Is he a friend? Coworker? Another spurned lover perhaps? Or are you into deeper shit than I really care to know?”

  “I’m not spurning you,” Persephone bit back. “In fact, it’s pretty much the other way around what with this little chat we’re having.”

  “You say that like you believe it, Perry,” he smiled bitterly. When she remained silent, he gave in. “I first saw him a few months ago. Turns out my military service wasn’t a complete waste of time. I’ve spotted him on a couple occasions since then.”

  “Again, I’m sorry that he’s made you uncomfortable. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry for all of this I guess.” Persephone rose and pulled on her gloves.

  “I am, too.”

  “It’s your call, Ric. You have my number,” Persephone gave him a half-smile and moved to the front door. “Thanks for tonight.”

  “That you can walk away from me so callously lets me know I’m making the right decision.” Ulrich didn’t get up to see her out. He stood and went back to his rooms, ignoring her departure.

  Irritated, Persephone closed the door quietly. It was fifteen after eleven. She was rested and refreshed thanks to her nap and shower. Remembering the night was young, she decided to stop by the club where she first met Ulrich. Surely, there was someone there who’d want a little diversion. Any distraction would do.

  ☐

  Persephone’s head rose from her pillow, peeking out from under her gray duvet. Incessant banging came from the front door. It had woken her up and she was determined to ignore it. When it refused to stop, she thought something might be amiss.

  Moving as little as possible, she pulled her Mak from the drawer of her bedside table and placed it under the pillow on the other side of the bed. Damn whoever it was. She was going to sleep today and whoever had the audacity to enter without permission would be sorry.

  It was ten minutes before her visitor stopped. Faintly, she heard the building door slam at the bottom of the stairs. “Damn straight,” she mumbled.

  She slept for about four more minutes until she heard the doors of the main room balcony slide open. One benefit of the apartment’s awkward open floor plan was that all sound echoed throughout the space. The detached wall that separated her sleeping area from the living room and kitchen didn’t muffle any bumps in the night.

  Turning over swiftly, Persephone snatched the Mak from underneath the pillow and slid out of bed. She put her back against the wall and tried to slow her breathing. Her heart went into overdrive when she heard footsteps in the loft space. The chill of the air outside the warmth of her bed bit at her bare legs. Looking herself over, Persephone felt less confident. She thought of backing down and just calling the police. Taking a step forward, she made her way to the cell phone on her desk.

  “Persephone? You can stop creeping. It’s just me,” Timothy’s voice rang out.

  “Ah!” Persephone seethed. “What the fuck are you doing? Trying to scare the shit out of me? What the fuck, Timothy?”

  “You wouldn’t answer your door. You left me no choice.” His exasperated voice traveled down the stairs and grew closer. Persephone’s eyes narrowed in frustration.

  “Don’t come back here! I don’t have any pants on,” she growled.

  “Well, make it quick. Benny’s outside.”

  Persephone cursed, placed the Mak back in its case in the bedside table, and marched to her wardrobe to shove on some jeans. Ignoring Timothy, she stomped to the front door, unlocked its bolt and chains, and immediately stomped back to the couch. Benny pushed the door open and peeped inside before stepping in cautiously. Persephone stared at him testily, waiting for someone to speak.

  “I see you finally went to the furniture stores I recommended,” Benny remarked as he regarded her loft apartment. “The place actually looks good. Really good.”

  “Thanks, I think,” she replied. “Why are you guys breaking and fucking entering at god-knows-when on a Saturday? Ever heard of a phone?”

  “Yeah, it’s ten o’clock, Persephone,” Timothy sassed.

  “So? If I want to sleep in on a Saturday, I’ll sure as hell do so. Well, not today, thanks to you.”

  “Alright, alright. Sorry, I thought Timothy called you. It’s big news – good news if you’re willing to listen. You hate it here, right?”

  “Yes,” she answered adamantly. Benny had her attention. She gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa, ignoring Timothy altogether.

  “I was against telling you this, but Timothy thought you had a right to know, so ease up on him. Hell, I still think it’s a bad idea,” Benny groused, rubbing his close shaven salt and pepper beard, “but what the hell. You’ll need to know sooner or later.

  “We’ve had a major breakthrough in neutralizing the entity that’s trying to extract information from you.”

  “You’re looking at me like I know what that means,” Persephone raised an eyebrow.

  “Suffice it to say that we’ve got the guy who hired Ryan Trask’s team to come after your parents. We’ve got him in our pocket. We’re getting some good intelligence and we’re making the world a safer place – and more relevant to this conversation – a safer place for you.”

  “This is good, but I’m still not exactly sure what it means,” Persephone eyed Benny carefully and edged forward in her arm chair. “You catching some bad guy is great. Don’t get me wrong here, but Trask is an amazing mercenary. He hates me for getting the best of him. I know that for a fact. What’s to say he doesn’t jump ship from this contractor you have, come after me, and gut me to sell what he gets to the highest bidder?”

  “That’s a legitimate concern, but we’ve addressed it. That’s where you come in. We know your relationship with Trask is unique. If you came back to the States, there’s no doubt he’d be interested, but after you being in hiding for so long, he’d be wary of approaching you. The motherfucker isn’t stupid; he wouldn’t still be around if he was. He’d know something was up if we just put you out there on a platter.”

  “Wait,” Persephone interrupted, “are you saying you can work out a way for me to go home?
”

  “In a year or so maybe. We’d need your full cooperation,” Benny smiled at her obvious excitement.

  The prospect of going back to the US gave her goose pimples. Her time in Geneva had been breaking her down – changing her. The episode with Ulrich was just the latest of several indicators. French was not her language. After two years her skills were passable at best; just fine for the business world, but there were jokes and idiosyncrasies she still struggled with. She was a foreigner wherever she went and she was absolutely sick of it. Even so, if she was honest with herself, she knew the root of her unhappiness wasn’t the language barrier. Her coworkers were kind and welcoming, but she’d shut herself off from them and everyone else. She didn’t love people the way she used to.

  She’d never thought she would miss the Bensons in the way she did. Even Margie’s incessant questions held a place in her heart. It sucked being away from them. Persephone realized she enjoyed telling someone, namely Peter, about her accomplishments and him being proud of her. She could spill her more superficial secrets to Finn and dish gossip. Emma shared childhood memories and commented on culture like no one else could. There was nothing like that here. Timothy wasn’t enough, and as of late she’d resented his presence in her life.

  And, of course, there was the one person she avoided thinking about. If Persephone dwelt on him too much, her loneliness got pathetic. She refused to turn back into the sobbing mess she’d been when she first came to Geneva. She’d come too far. She wasn’t happy, but she was okay, which was more than a lot of people could ask for. But to return home – she was nearly afraid to ask Velasquez how he could manage such a feat for fear the opportunity would be snatched away.

  “We know Trask was working with Kirill Pravdin at some point,” Velasquez continued. “Given your relationship with Pravdin’s son we didn’t think it would be difficult for you to convince Kirill that you’ve had a change of heart about joining the family business. Trask wouldn’t fall far behind.”

  Persephone’s heart plummeted. With the hope in her heart extinguished, she prepared for the ensuing war of words. “Kirill Pravdin has more lawyers than he knows what to do with. Besides I’m not a real estate attorney. He didn’t want me to join his business. That was Trask trying to get closer to me.”

  Timothy spoke for the first time since he’d taken a seat in the armchair across the coffee table from Persephone. “Okay, so he didn’t want you to be one of his mob goons, but he wanted to profit from you the same way Trask and his employer do.”

  “I can’t really confirm that. I’ll give it to you that Kirill is a greedy bastard and I’m sure he would want a finder’s fee for whatever Trask got off me, but I can’t say what he knows for sure.”

  “Hold on here, sweetie,” Velasquez shook his head in disbelief, “are you denying Kirill Pravdin’s criminal, treacherous involvement with Ryan Trask? You’re saying you don’t have knowledge of him conspiring with Trask to obtain and sell state secrets?”

  “I’m saying I’m not in a position to confirm or deny anything. I know Trask was a guest of Kirill’s at Lina’s wedding, and I know my ex-boyfriend spotted him at Kirill’s downtown offices. A man hired to neutralize my parents, who physically assaulted and molested me, and promised to get what he wants out of me was in close contact with my then boyfriend’s father. That was too close for comfort and worthy of extraction.”

  The statement was technically true. Persephone held Velasquez’s stare as he fumed. She’d purposely left the Pravdins out of the picture when she’d contacted Peter to extract her, letting him draw his own conclusions as to why Trask had hooked up with Kirill in the first place.

  “Stop trying to protect him!” Timothy barked. “You can’t, for one, and it’s only a matter of time before Trask goes down. He’ll take the Pravdins with him.”

  “If that’s the case, then why do you even need my help with this cockamamie plan anyway? I have nothing to give you on the Pravdins. Your guess as to what Trask told Kirill to pique his interest is as good as mine,” Persephone answered plainly.

  Velasquez eyed Timothy with reproach. It was obvious the young attaché had said too much. They thought they’d kill two birds with one stone by dangling America in front of Persephone like a carrot and maybe earn a promotion. Too bad, she thought. They hadn’t banked on where her loyalty ultimately lied. She heard Velasquez mumble something about knowing this was a bad idea.

  “I can understand you wanting to protect Ivan,” he began slowly, “but if you’re doing this out of love, I want to warn you that there’s nothing we can do to protect you from criminal charges, conviction, and imprisonment. In fact, we might help them throw the book at you, so you’d better think twice about the next things you say.”

  “No, Benny, I think you should be careful. Do you honestly think I’d let you bring me over here without any assurance that you wouldn’t just change your mind and decide to keep me locked up in some ‘secure facility’ for the rest of my life? In order for things to stay under wraps, I have to maintain a certain level of autonomy.”

  “People die everyday,” Timothy cut in with an air of skepticism. “What if you got hit by a bus? Would a bunch of intelligence just leak out and put several people at risk? Doesn’t seem too responsible to me.”

  Persephone smirked and sat back, “Trust me, it doesn’t work that way.”

  “I ought to have you taken in right now,” Velasquez threatened.

  “But you won’t, will you? Try it. Within one week’s time your boss will be at my cell ready to negotiate the terms of my release. Who knows, maybe the black site where you hold me will have some decent ketchup. The stuff here is kind of off – it’s got this weird barbecue sauce tang to it –”

  “Fuck you,” he muttered, regarding her sternly.

  “Really, Benny? You worked with my parents. You should have expected this – I will always protect myself.” And those I love, she thought. “Now, I’m glad to see you two, but I think it’s time to for you to leave. I’m sure I’ll see you soon enough. It looks like I have a few more years yet here in Geneva.”

  Persephone stood and motioned toward the door as she stared pointedly at Velasquez. He was mad now, but he’d get used to it. She figured he dealt with power plays like this all the time. He stood, waiting for Timothy to follow him, but the other man waved him off.

  “No, you go on ahead,” Timothy said. “I’ll see you later today.”

  When they were alone, Persephone remained standing. “What do you want?

  Timothy got right to the point. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Persephone was astonished. Timothy had never spoken to her in such a brash manner.

  “You are blackmailing your country for a man that knowingly put you in danger with his criminal ties,” he raved. Today was the first reference Timothy had made directly to Vanya during all her time in Switzerland. Persephone saw that Timothy’s easy-going mask had vanished, now replaced with real and total disdain.

  “One, I’m not blackmailing anyone,” she explained. “I’m protecting my freedom, which no one else can do for me. Two, you don’t know shit about him or my relationship with him and it’s about time you learn to stay the fuck out of my business.”

  “What does that mean?” Timothy said with indignation.

  “It means you need to stop trying to interfere with my decisions. If you job is to watch me, then fine, do it, but don’t try to manipulate your way into my life. I know you let Ulrich Ebersold make you a few times so he would back off.”

  “That guy? That guy is a complete freak!”

  “Oh, yeah, a software executive with a five year old kid and a million volunteer hours with disabled athlete foundations – he’s a total creep; absolute sleaze ball. Geez, the man is into kinky sex; that doesn’t really equate to crazy ax murderer!”

  Timothy bit his lip. His cheeks reddened, but Persephone couldn’t tell if it was becaus
e he was embarrassed or angry. She pressed on anyway.

  “You know, Timothy, if you think he’s awful, I wonder what you must think of me. Am I some sick, depraved psycho you report on back to base? Do you and Velasquez get off on tattling about my subversive activities?”

  “No, it’s not like that at all –”

  “Then do your job and stay hidden – and out of my business!”

  Silence fell over the loft. Timothy looked at her and she could tell he was debating with himself over something. Persephone patiently awaited his answer to her edict. When she thought he would give up and cede to her wishes, he spoke.

  “I’m doing this because I care about you, and I think you know that. Persephone, I… ” His voice trailed off as he searched for words, but she didn’t wait for him to finish.

  “I can’t go there with you. With guys like Ulrich it doesn’t mean anything, but with you it would definitely mean something. I’m never going to be over Vanya, Timothy.

  “I’m doing way better than I was when I got here, and I’m managing things pretty well as far as my well-being is concerned, but I’m never gonna be over him – and I’m never gonna take that step with you.”

  She marched to the front door, pulled it open, and eyed Timothy with her hand on her hip. She was relieved when he left without protest. Her heart thumped in her throat. Slumping to the floor, she took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

  Had that just happened? Did she really just threaten two seasoned members of the intelligence community with blackmail? While exhilarating, it scared her shitless.

  “Calm down,” Persephone whispered aloud. You’ve done everything right, she thought. She had never expected to pull out the big guns, and now that she’d done so, she was amazed at her own poise. The information they’d revealed to her was invaluable.

  If she would have been able to go home in a year by cooperating, how long would it take without cooperation? Three years? Four years? She could do five more years in Geneva if it meant –

  What did it mean? The America Persephone left would only exist in memory. Finn would be a stranger. Emma could be anywhere due to the scarcity of art jobs and John Mark would have probably married Arianna. And Vanya – she didn’t want to think about what he was doing. Peter, Margie, and Zenovia were the only ones who would remain relatively unchanged. The thought of seeing them did her heart good.