by Glenn Meade
Arkov turned round his laptop so that it faced Shavik.
“What is it?”
Arkov grinned. “A video you’re not going to like.”
46
* * *
TENNESSEE
Ronnie tossed a bag of tools into the boat.
He saw a white Toyota Camry pull up at the dock office, and Carla climbed out. She wore sunglasses, the evening rays still strong, and her hair was tied back. She walked down to join him.
“Hey. When did you get back?”
She kept her sunglasses on, but there was no mistaking the strain in her face.
“This afternoon. I got a rental car in Knoxville. Where’s Regan?”
“Gone to visit a friend with Josh.”
He jumped aboard the boat, held out his hand to her. “I’ve got some houseboats to check out. Want to join me?”
• • •
He headed out along the lake, checking the houseboat anchor lines as he went.
The wind popped the canvas awning over their heads. The sun was out, hot and sticky, but dark clouds bubbled in the distance, a smell of rain on the air.
“You saw the remains?”
“Yes.”
Carla looked out at the lake, and bit her lip. Ronnie killed the engine and the boat drifted.
“Whose were they?”
She faltered.
“Whose, Carla?”
“My . . . my mother’s and . . .”
“Who else?”
She didn’t speak as she took off her sunglasses.
He saw her eyes. They welled up with tears, red and swollen, dark rings as if she hadn’t slept in days. She put her hands to her face and sobbed so hard her body shook. She felt his arm around her shoulder.
“Just take your time and tell me everything.”
47
* * *
They sat there, the boat gently rocking against the dock.
“There’s no question it was your mom?”
“Her DNA matched mine.”
Ronnie clasped her hand in his.
She stared back at him, as if mesmerized by her own thoughts.
“Seeing what was left of her was bad enough. But the children’s remains . . . it was just so pitiful. I can never forget it. Not ever.”
She wiped her eyes, her voice hoarse. “Kelly didn’t want me to look. There was a faint odor. He pushed me away.”
“What did you see?”
“The skeletons of two small children about Luka’s size, aged four or five, were curled up on the floor. Two older children were in standing positions.”
“What age?”
“I can’t say. I only know they were older. The flesh had shriveled up, the bodies mummified and unrecognizable. It was heartbreaking. It sent me over the edge. I’ve hardly slept since.”
She stopped, the words choking in her throat.
“We all just stood there for a time, horrified, until Kelly pulled me away.”
“Could they tell if either of the younger children was Luka?”
“Not yet, not positively. Kelly needs to verify the DNA.”
“You’re not hopeful.”
“How could I be? One of the smaller children had dark hair, like Luka. I can’t seem to fool myself into believing he’s still alive, no matter how hard I try.”
She looked at him. “Seeing the bodies brought it all back. That last day, when I left my mother, and how I hugged and kissed Luka. I remembered . . .”
“What?”
“How he clung to me. How he pleaded with me to keep him safe, and not to forget him. The last thing I told him was that I’d come back for him. I failed him, Ronnie. I failed Luka.”
Her voice cracked. “I’ll never forget his little face, so full of fear, not wanting to let me go. I . . . I had to pry away his fingers.”
She closed her wet eyes.
She felt Ronnie’s hand fall on her shoulder again, but this time he said nothing.
“How?” she said. “How could they have missed the children? How could they not have found the bodies?”
“I can’t answer that, Carla.”
Her face looked up, full of pain. “What makes it worse is knowing what Luka and the others must have gone through. The horror of dying slowly in that small space with barely enough air to breathe, of being entombed alive. And it’s all my fault. All of it was my fault.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Luka getting sick was my fault. I insisted that Mother let us bathe in the river one day. If I hadn’t done that, Luka wouldn’t have fallen ill.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do.”
“Carla . . .”
“It was all my fault Luka was left behind. I should have taken him with me, even though he was ill.”
He heard the plaintive sound in her voice, like an animal cry of pain.
“You’re not responsible for Luka’s death.”
“Then why am I feeling like this?”
“You’ve got survivor’s guilt, that’s all. You feel guilty that you survived and Luka didn’t.”
“No, it was my fault. Nothing will make me change my mind.”
“Did you contact Baize?”
“I called her as soon as I got myself together. I had to talk with somebody.”
“How did she take it?”
“I think she was hoping they’d find my father’s remains and she’d finally have closure. But when I told her about Luka she was devastated.”
Carla rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger.
“I called her twice again that night, and twice yesterday. She was still in shock. I’ll call her again tomorrow. Right now I’m too stressed to talk about it anymore. I’ve hardly slept in three days.”
“Shouldn’t you be with Baize right now?”
“Maybe I should. But there are other things I need to do.”
“Such as?”
She looked at him, and vehemence blazed in her eyes.
“I’m not just going to hunt down Shavik.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to kill him.”
48
* * *
Ronnie eased the boat back into the dock and tied it up.
“You mean that?”
“I want to kill him so badly. What he did to my mother, my family, I won’t let that go unpunished. I want Arkov dead, too. I want to do it myself.” Her eyes met his. “So will you teach me to do that? To kill them?”
“Have you ever killed anyone, Carla?”
“No, of course not.”
“To kill someone, up close, to feel their last breath on your face, and hear the life going out of them, that’s maybe the most heart-wrenching experience you can ever have, if you’re in any way half human.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if the man or woman you kill is an evil serial killer or a brutal terrorist. If you have a shred of humanity, even killing someone like Shavik can take a huge bite out of your soul.”
“I’m not worried about that. My killing would be just. I’m not a soldier obeying orders. A man like you could train me to kill. Will you do that?”
“I’m not a gun for hire. You’ve come to the wrong man.”
“Why?”
“Because asking me to help you to kill another human being is asking too much. I’ve put those days behind me. I’m done with killing and I’ve paid the price.”
“What price?”
“Believe me, there’s always a price. You need to really think this through. What if you’re caught trying to kill these men, or after doing it? You could face life in prison.”
She didn’t answer. He looked at her.
“If I helped you, I could wind up joining you behind bars as an accessory. Even if the men you kill are the scum of the earth it’s still murder.”
“You don’t get it, Ronnie.”
“I get it. I understand your need to confront these killers. But there will always be evil
people who don’t deserve to walk this earth. You need to step back. Think hard about what you’re getting into.”
“I won’t change my mind. And I really don’t think you do get it, Ronnie.”
“Why?”
She met his stare. “When Jan was killed, I felt as if someone punched a hole in my heart. Then I found out about my past, and the hole got bigger. Now, with Luka, I feel like whatever remained of my heart was ripped out. That I’ll never be able to heal, not ever.”
He stayed silent. The silence seemed endless.
She seemed to lose it then, and exploded, pounding the boat’s handrail with her fist. “Don’t you see? I can’t let the same killers who destroyed Jan and my family get away with their crimes. I can’t let them. Shavik and his kind, they shouldn’t be free to walk this earth. They’re worse than animals.”
“It’s still revenge, Carla. It’s killing someone to settle scores.”
“So what if it is? But it’s not just that. It goes deeper.”
“How deep?”
“I don’t want a child of mine to grow up to have their lives destroyed by people like Shavik and Arkov.”
She looked into his face.
“I wouldn’t want anyone’s child to know the fear and terror I went through, Ronnie. So long as men like these are allowed to walk this earth, they’re capable of doing to others what they did to me.”
From her bag, she took the piece of blue blanket and clutched it fiercely in her hand.
“Look—look at what I have left of my brother. A small, frail, beautiful little boy, and this is what I have left to remind me of him. What if they were your son’s bones that lay in that closet? How would you feel then?”
He fell silent again. She stared at him.
“I hate pleading but I don’t have time to find someone else. All I’m asking is a week—a week of your time. Could it be done in a week?”
“It’s not long enough. You’d just about cover the basics.”
“Any more time and I’d be taking the risk of Shavik and Arkov fleeing the country.”
“How do you know?”
“Angel tipped me off. She warned me I may not have much of a window, and I have a gut feeling she’s right.” Her face darkened. “Just looking at you I know what you’re thinking, Ronnie.”
“What?”
“That you’re all Josh has. That if something went horribly wrong and we were caught or were implicated, you’d destroy Josh’s life. Destroy both your lives.”
“I love him, Carla. I can’t let him down. I did once before and I promised my boy I’d never do it again.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t ask you unless I was desperate.”
She looked into his face.
“I’d never tell on you, Ronnie. Never. I’d never tell anyone you helped me. I’m not asking you to kill for me. Just show me how to do it.”
“I’d still be involved. I’d still be putting my life on the line. Josh’s, too.”
“So you won’t do it?”
“I can’t, Carla.”
His lips pressed together and then he looked out over the lake.
Carla stumbled off the boat. “It’s okay. Let me out here, please.”
“Carla . . .”
“Let me out.”
And she jumped onto the dock, hurrying along the boardwalk toward her car.
49
* * *
He caught up with her.
“Hold your horses.”
“Goodbye, Ronnie.”
She ignored him, went to open her car door.
He gripped her arm.
“Wait. I know it’s against my better judgment. I know it’s a huge risk. That if it goes wrong, there’ll be a big price to pay. But I’ll help you.”
There was a strange, disturbing intimacy between them now, standing there together on the dock, the smell of rain on the evening air.
“Why? What changed your mind?”
“Because maybe I owe it to Dan. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. Countless times he watched my back. I know he’d want me to watch yours. But there’s one thing I won’t do.”
“What?”
“I won’t kill for you, Carla. I won’t ever do that. But I will teach you what you need to know.”
“You said we always pay a price. Did you mean that?”
“Yes, I did. Once we take a life it’s as if there’s an avenging angel watching over our shoulder, ready to exact payment from us.”
“And what price will I pay?”
“You could end up haunted by what you’ve done. Or corrupted by the very people you despise. I really can’t say, but when the time comes, you’ll know.”
“You’ve seen it happen?”
“Lots of times. Guys I served with, I’ve seen them pay.”
“How?”
“In busted marriages, in ruined lives. I’ve known some to turn to drugs or alcohol. Or others to put a gun to their heads.”
“They were soldiers. They were acting under orders. Me, I believe in what I’m doing. I believe I have a just cause.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll still pay.”
“You’ve killed men before?”
“Yes.”
“And what price did you pay?”
She hit raw bone, saw it in his face. “What happened to Josh was part of the price. His mom’s death, too.”
“How can you know that?”
“I know, believe me.”
“Then why hasn’t Shavik been repaid?”
“How do you know he already hasn’t?”
“Somehow I doubt he lies awake at night thinking of the evil he’s done.”
He fixed her with a steady gaze. “You won’t be the same person after you take a life. You’ll be changed by it. Don’t say you haven’t been warned.”
She didn’t speak for a moment, considering his words.
“I meant what I said. I won’t compromise you, Ronnie. No one has to know.”
“Are you still afraid of facing Shavik?”
“More than ever. Now that I’ve seen what he’s capable of—massacring women and children.”
“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”
“I wish I did, Ronnie, but I don’t. I’m scared. Maybe more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. But I can’t let Shavik get away with his crimes. I can’t dishonor all those dead.”
“Use the cabin you stayed in and try to get a good night’s sleep. We’ve lots to do, and very little time to do it.”
“When do we start?”
“We already have.”
• • •
That night the rain came again.
A drenching summer downpour that pounded on the roof. Flashes of lightning sizzled and thundered in the night sky.
Carla lay on her back, her hands on her stomach, staring out at the storm.
She couldn’t forget the sight of the small skeletons in the closet.
The pathetic pieces of clothing and desiccated flesh that had once been beloved children. The little girl with the braids to her waist. And darling Luka, the sight of his dark hair still vivid in her mind.
From her handbag, she took out a manila envelope. From inside, she removed the piece of blue blanket that had been her brother’s comfort, and the photo of her and Luka and her mom and dad on the Dubrovnik beach.
She clutched both in her hands and stared down at them, her eyes brimming.
Her heart felt broken, shattered beyond repair.
In her mind she heard Luka’s tiny voice cry out to her again in the dark.
When she could bear it no more, when she felt her body shake with convulsions, she turned her face into the pillow.
50
* * *
Ronnie drove the Ram toward a meadow.
Seated next to him in the pickup, Carla felt a powerful fear growing in her, and was afraid to tell him why.
A couple of bleached wooden picnic benches were set up in a corner of the meadow
. A hundred yards away a ridge of earth formed the backstop for a shooting range.
At various distances toward the ridge were an assortment of metal and paper targets, some in the shape of a human torso. Ronnie turned off the engine and Carla followed him, climbing out of the cab.
“I’m impressed. Your own private shooting range.”
“I haven’t used it much in the last few years. Let’s get the stuff unloaded.”
He went around to the rear and let down the tailgate. A charcoal-colored, heavy plastic Pelican trunk with a combination padlock lay in the back.
When he unlocked the lid, Carla saw a selection of firearms packed in gray protective foam. A half-dozen handguns in different calibers, along with an AR assault rifle, a Heckler & Koch MP5 machine pistol, a bolt-action sniper rifle with a telescope, and a Remington pump-action shotgun.
From the pickup he grabbed two green metal cans and a black canvas range bag. He laid them next to the weapons. Carla recoiled at the sight of the firearms.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Guns scare me. I hate them. I even find it hard to watch TV when there’s shooting involved. I . . . I was afraid to tell you that.”
“Sounds like we’re off to a terrific start.”
• • •
Ronnie laid out the weapons on the tables.
Carla said, “Anything to do with war and weapons makes me sick to the pit of my stomach.”
“I understand, but you’ll have to get over that fear if you want to do this. Think of firearms as a tool you have to master to get the job done, that’s all.”
“What’s in the green cans?”
“Ammo.”
“And the bag?”
“A first-aid kit. Just in case.”
“Of what?”
“You’ll need to know how to treat a gunshot wound. In case you’re ever hit, or shoot yourself by accident. Accidents have a lousy habit of happening where firearms are concerned.”
“I get it. Guns are dangerous.”
“Follow the four cardinal rules and you’ll always be safe.”
“And they are?”