Stolen & Fractured

by Cee Smith

  It wasn’t until I began brushing my teeth that I saw him slip from the room. There was something elusive about how he just left without a word, almost while I was distracted, so I wouldn’t question him as to what he and Scout had been working on that drew him out every day for hours on end. I promised myself that I wouldn’t ask, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t find out on my own.

  Spying wasn’t my strong suit, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. So with a resolve to get to the bottom of what he’d been keeping from me for who knows how long, I wrapped up brushing my teeth and followed him over to Scout’s house.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected to find, or if I would find anything for that matter. All I knew was that I had to try. With Clema watching Ellie, I slipped from the house. I walked on the outside of the pathways, not wanting to draw immediate attention to the fact that I was following Dominic in any way. I made it just outside Scout’s bungalow just as I saw the door close shut behind Dominic’s body. Based on the layout of the house, I knew that the rooms were situated on the west side of the property. Creeping around the perimeter, I made out what sounded more like grumbling than an actual conversation, and I tiptoed around the landscaping jutting up to the house to get closer to the room that the voices seemed to be coming from. I ducked beneath the window, stretching my head up as far as I could without breaking the height of the window, so I could hear better without being seen.

  “Do you have everything lined up?”

  “Yes. Sampson’s men are on standby. They know the drill. Our team will be working on capturing Zephyr. I want him alive. He needs to suffer for what he did to my family. The sooner we get in there, the better. As soon as we hear from Anatoli’s contact, I want to be ready to go.”

  Hearing Sampson’s name brought back awful memories of not only that night when I thought he was someone that could be trusted, but also of Dominic and I fleeing the cabin because he feared for our safety once he realized Sampson knew the truth. I never did hear what became of that whole situation, only that it was finally safe to return to the house. If Dominic was working with him in any capacity, it was only because he felt like he needed to, which worried me because Sampson would be the last person Dominic would ever go to for help. Whatever he was involved in couldn’t be good if he would associate with a known criminal.

  Dominic’s voice was thick with disdain, heavy like sludge grating my skin raw. He mentioned “my family,” but his words were heavy with the pain of a past that I knew still overshadowed his every move, his every thought. The truth of his family’s history was a burden that tethered Dominic to the past so much so that I often worried it prevented Dominic from seeing the future for what it really was—a life beyond the one that was stolen from him.

  I kept as quiet as possible as I snuck away from the building and made my way back to our resort, hoping like hell I didn’t run into anyone so I wouldn’t have to explain my reason for being out. With the layout of the bungalows, there would be no real explanation as to why I was coming from the opposite direction of the beach. There was nothing but a thicket of trees beyond Scout’s house.

  Once inside the house, I sat on the couch replaying over and over the exact words I’d heard. Whatever Dominic was planning sounded big, and it sounded like it was something that had been in the works for a while. I didn’t know how I felt about that because whatever they were working on sounded like he was not only passing into dangerous territory but crossing illegal lines that not only affected him and the family he’d already lost, but also the new family he was building.

  I lied to Hailey. It was the first time I remembered ever outright lying to her. Sure, I kept things from her, like why I kidnapped her or what I intended to do with her, but I never lied. What’s worse was when I said Scout and I were going back to New York to wrap up a few things, Hailey seemed unaffected. As if she couldn’t care less where I was going or even when I was coming back. That wasn’t how I wanted to leave her, with deceit and indifference stretched between us. There was too much riding on this mission for my thoughts to be bogged down with what was happening within my marriage, and as the boat cut through wave after wave of the Ionian Sea, I felt that bind slipping with every mile that pulled us closer to Greece.

  That would have been a perfect day to curl up in the sand and watch Hailey take Ellie out into the water. Hailey was hell-bent on having a little water baby just like she was.

  I couldn’t let any more of those thoughts slip in. I couldn’t mix my two worlds. I had to stay focused on what I needed to do.

  I have to do this for my family. For what I’ve lost and what I have left. There isn’t enough space in the world for Zephyr and I to both exist. One of us is going to have to die, and it isn’t going to be me.

  Scout arranged for a meet-up with Anatoli so he could vouch for us before we scheduled the meeting with his cousin. Seeing as how his cousin was a police officer on a force that Zephyr had in his back pocket, we were both skeptical that this wasn’t some sort of setup. Anatoli’s cousin did give us one bit of information that we could use. He said if we were going to do anything, we better be in Pyrgos by Wednesday, otherwise we’d miss an opportunity. And it sounded like there weren’t very many of those, so we scheduled a meeting with Anatoli and agreed that if everything went according to plan, we would meet his cousin later that night.

  I wasn’t one to put all of my eggs in one basket though. Before we left, I had Scout dig up more information on Zephyr—who he hung around with, where he lived, places he visited. While we would be meeting with Anatoli, I had a small team of guys casing Zephyr’s place to watch his every move until the right time.

  The boat hit a particularly large wave, and I felt like I was jolted back in time.

  My father’s arms look large and powerful as he rows us out on the water. I watch his movement, hypnotized as he holds onto the oars, pulling them high up into the air before circling them back down. Around and around they spin until the dinghy pulls farther and farther away from the shore and we sit adrift on the still water. We’re still relatively close to the dock, but it feels like the water is endless, despite the fact that I can see the Statue of Liberty to my right and the city on my left.

  The air is crisp with the morning fog, and while I sit behind my father, curled up in the same coat my mother forced me into as we left that morning, my father looks unaffected by the chill. I bounce excitedly, part of that stemming from the cold, but also because we should be sitting at the breakfast table right now. I should be getting ready to head to school and Father should be getting ready to go to work, but he surprised me today. I’m 10 and it’s one of the first times in my life he’s ever done something this spontaneous. The fact that we’re both skipping makes this even more thrilling.

  Father stops rowing, and I watch him as he looks out upon the water. I can only see his profile, his hair the color of dark-roast coffee, his sharp nose and eyes reflecting the rippling waves, his features almost bird-like. He looks lost in thought, as if he’s a million miles away. Perhaps he’s scared of being this far from shore. I know it’s not his first time on a boat, but maybe he’s scared for me. I hate to pull him from his thoughts, but maybe if I show him I’m OK, he won’t look so scared.

  “Is this a good spot, Papa?”

  “Wha—oh, yes,” he looks around the perimeter of the boat as if just now noticing where we’re at on the water. “It’s perfect. Here let me get you baited.” He drops the oars and moves to turn around so that he’s now facing me inside the boat.

  “I could bait my own. I’m big enough now.”

  “I guess you are, aren’t you? OK then, show me how you bait your hook.”

  My father’s face is now awash in the dim smile that he always shows me. It’s a smile I’ve only seen him wear for me and Mama. With excitement barreling to the tips of my fingers, I watch as Father pops the top of the liver container. He holds the container toward me, and I grab the fleshy morsel. The blood makes it slimy between my fingers
, and I hope it doesn’t slip from my grasp while my father watches on. I want to show him I can do this.

  I fold the liver in on itself, wrapping it tightly around the hook so that every angle of the metal is covered by meat. With a thin piece of thread, I circle around the liver a few times, ensuring that the meat is snug before I show my father the finished product.

  “See,” I say, beaming as proudly as if I’d brought home an “A” on my report card.

  “Very nice. Where’d you learn that, kid?”

  “From you, Papa,” my grin spreads like dandelion seeds floating on a breeze.

  That was one of the best days my father and I shared together. It wasn’t the last time we spent fishing in that dinghy, just the two of us rocking lightly with the passing waves while waiting what felt like days for fish to take the bait. I caught my first fish that day. I remember it being a little thing, not much bigger than my palm now. I was so disappointed when my father made me throw it back. It didn’t seem to make sense that I wouldn’t be able to keep a fish I’d caught.

  “He’s just a baby, Dominic. You have to give him a chance to live. If you’re meant to have him, then when you’re both older, you’ll come back and you’ll catch him again,” he says with a measure of patience in his voice.

  “What’s the point in fishing now if I can’t have him yet?”

  “So that when you come back you’ll have the skills to catch him when he’s full grown.”

  “Dominic. Dominic.” Scout’s voice interrupted the memory of fishing with my father and I was pulled back into being at sea, on my way to end a ten-year mystery.

  “We’re almost there. The captain says we should reach the port in another half hour.”

  With fake names, we hired a transporter that would be able to get us discreetly to the docks. My watch read 3 p.m., so we still had a couple hours before our meet-up with Anatoli. I wanted to give ourselves enough time to get the lay of the land and allow Scout enough time to touch base with the rest of the crew that was already there on standby.

  “Do you think Sampson’s men are really going to pull through?”

  “I hope for Sampson’s sake they do, otherwise Zephyr won’t be the only one losing his head.”

  “Then let’s hope we don’t run into any problems.”

  ***

  The restaurant looked like an enlarged termite mound, with white textured walls and rotted wood beams. We made our way through tables bustled close together, passing large groups of people that talked animatedly in a language that was foreign but felt familiar to me. In an odd way, it felt like being at home in New York, sitting at the dinner table with Clema helping me with my homework.

  The hostess led us out a small door, which I had to duck my head to avoid hitting the frame, and out to the patio. The restaurant sat on a hill overlooking the ocean, and tents that shaded us from the flaming orange sky rippled with the wind kicking up from the water. We took the seats facing the restaurant so we would have a perfect view of the side staircase that led up from the street and of the door leading back inside the restaurant. Scout and I arrived ten minutes before the meet-up time so we were at an advantage. Apparently, it worked because Anatoli hadn’t arrived yet.

  When the door opened ten minutes later, we knew that the man being escorted to our table was Anatoli. Prior to arriving, we reserved the patio area so our conversation wouldn’t be overheard by anyone that could be associated with Zephyr’s camp. The man that walked toward us looked casual as if he just threw on some cargo shorts and a polo shirt and came straight up from the beach. He looked young for a man who was probably in his mid-forties. He stood just under 6 feet, with a lean build and toned muscles. His hair was dark like mine, but his eyes were a tan color that looked as sun-drenched as his skin.

  The hostess and Anatoli neared, and Scout and I stood up to greet our newcomer. Anatoli muttered something in Greek, eliciting a sharp smile from the same woman that had previously led us to our seats.

  “Gentlemen,” Anatoli said with a thick accent and waved to the chairs, signaling for us to take our seats as he himself dropped down into the chair that the hostess pulled out for him.

  “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

  “I believe we have a common goal. It has been a long time since anyone has even thought of taking Zephyr down. Many who live here are fearful for their lives, the lives of their family, or their livelihoods. It’s not so easy to get out from under his thumb, especially now. Zephyr was still relatively small time when your father was alive, but his business has multiplied in the last decade.”

  “What do you know about my father?” I didn’t look at Scout when I asked Anatoli this, but I could feel Scout’s intense gaze shift to me. I’m sure I threw Scout for a loop when I began inquiring about anything other than Zephyr or the mission that lay ahead. I couldn’t quite say what encouraged me to ask that stranger about someone who had raised me for eighteen years and that I should know intrinsically. Perhaps it was the fact that he brought up my father, or maybe the thoughts from the boat ride earlier still lingered, and I was genuinely interested in the man that many seemed to look up to. A man that in some ways was as much a stranger to me as the man who sat across from me.

  “I met your father a couple of times. He flew out to assist in getting some families to safe haven. A lot of people admired your father. He made it out, made something of himself. He provided for his family in ways that many people here could only dream of.”

  “Do you know anything about my parents’ disappearance?”

  “I never saw what happened to them. I only heard that some of Zephyr’s hired thugs killed them on their boat. The bodies were never discovered when the boat washed ashore.”

  “Is the boat still here?” The boat wouldn’t hold anything of my parents’ except a hollow memory, but perhaps my sentimental side was emerging the closer I got to ending that chapter of my life.

  “I believe so. It’s in an abandoned harbor off the coast of Pylos. If you want, I could have someone take you there.”

  “Perhaps when all of this is over.”

  “Yes. Excuse me. Give me just one moment.” He pulled out his cell phone, holding it up to Scout and me as if to show us what his intentions were. His fingers typed furiously across his phone, and he set the device on the edge of the table as though he were awaiting a response from whomever he had been corresponding with. I gave Scout a quick glance, and he nodded as if to tell me to be on alert. So far, the conversation with Anatoli had been smooth, but we didn’t know him. This could be how he always conversed with his enemies.

  “We appreciate your help in remedying this common problem we seem to have, and we are more than happy to compensate you and your cousin for your assistance.”

  “I appreciate your offer, but I have no use for your money, and honestly, you should question the loyalties of any native you’re working with that accepts your offer of money. There is only one thing you can do for my people. Help rid them of this criminal. Let them know peace.”

  “You won’t have to worry about Zephyr. We’ll take care of him.” I could tell Anatoli wasn’t expecting Scout to speak for the entirety of the meeting, so he was caught off guard by the rumble of Scout’s proclamation. Before Anatoli could respond, the clanking of the side gate rang out, and Scout and I were on our feet before the gate could even close.

  “Gentlemen, it’s OK. This is George, my cousin. I understand you may only have a few days to get this right, and I just messaged George to let him know it was safe to meet you.”

  I didn’t know what to think of both men. If I could guess, I would say George was in his early thirties. I didn’t know what I pictured all the times we spoke of this man, but I imagined someone stiffer, older. This man wore jeans and a plain black crew-neck tee shirt. The small eyes, nose, and chin, coupled with the unruly mess of sandy curls, made him look boyish. I willed my strung-tight body to relax so he wouldn’t feel intimidated. I was sure Scout did that enoug
h for the both of us.

  After the cousins embraced, George moved around the table to shake our hands before taking his seat across from Scout and next to Anatoli. George looked at Anatoli one last time, as if reaffirming that it was safe to speak before he proceeded to fill us in on the details.

  “Wednesday night, Zephyr’s expecting a large shipment down at the docks. It isn’t often that he personally oversees these things anymore, but because of the size, I’m told he’ll be there.”

  “And what about your police force?” Scout asked with mild distaste at the words ‘police force.’ I hoped George wouldn’t feel slighted, but Scout and I both had our reservations with taking information from someone who belonged to any organization that Zephyr funded, the police force included.

  “We don’t oversee any of his activities. He pays so we turn the other cheek. I can’t speak for all of us. There may be some that actually work for him on the side, but as a unit, no, we don’t work for him.”

  “And how many do you think will be at the docks on Wednesday?”

  “It’s hard to say. He normally runs with a crew of 10 people, but with a shipment this large, he’ll probably have anywhere from 40–80 guys there.” George shrugged his shoulders at the vague number he threw out. It wasn’t enough to help zero in on exactly how many people we would need for the mission, but it was better than nothing.

  “I want to make this clear. We’re not here to intercept whatever shipment this is. We’re here to get Zephyr and whoever else stands in the way of that.”

  “His close group is loyal. If you plan on getting to Zephyr, you’ll have to go through them first, but the rest of the group is full of chickens clucking around for crumbs. Once Zephyr’s out of the picture, they’ll go back to baby crimes and will most likely end up dead or in jail.”

  “Now, what can you tell us about these docks?”