The Seven Sequels bundle

by Orca Various

  I grunted noncommittally.

  “Well,” Blue Eyes said, apparently not bothered by my lack of agreement, “whatever one thinks, it has happened, and it is still happening. There is no more cheap land by the beach, and yet people still desire to come here. That is what you call a bottleneck. But the bottle is breaking. As you see, the buildings are crawling inland.”

  I nodded, but I really didn’t have a clue what he was talking about or what it had to do with Grandfather or being kidnapped.

  “What does that have to do with us?” I asked.

  “Ah, the impatience of youth. I come from a very flexible family. We have found it a good way to survive. Many generations ago, we were poor peasants, scratching a pitiful existence from the soil of Mother Russia. Over the years we pulled ourselves up to become officials in St. Petersburg, in service of the Czars. When change came in 1917, we changed as well. We became bureaucrats for Lenin and Stalin, indispensible cogs in the wheels of Communism.”

  Laia sighed theatrically and looked bored. Blue Eyes ignored her and continued. “When things changed again, we embraced Capitalism and became businessmen. Do you see that point there?” He motioned to where the coast swung out to the south of us. Neither Laia nor I answered. “And that marina there?” He pointed north. “I own—how much of that?” He turned to his henchmen.

  “Very near eighty percent,” Scarface said in a voice that sounded as if he had swallowed gravel.

  “Almost eighty percent of the properties between those two points,” Blue Eyes said wistfully. “Not all in my name, of course. I control many different and diverse businesses, but it is mine nonetheless.” He stopped to silently admire what he was showing us. If what he said was true, it was impressive. Owning 80 percent of the properties on several kilometers of extremely valuable coastline made Blue Eyes an extraordinarily wealthy man.

  “So, you are rich,” Laia said. “Why should I care?”

  “You are very passionate in your opinions, Laia,” Blue Eyes said, “but there are times you should reflect more. I think Felip would know by now where I am going with this.”

  “What does my father have to do with this?”

  I heard an edge of worry in her voice.

  “As we have this companionable discussion up here,” Blue Eyes went on, “down there, Felip is, at this very minute, discussing the sale of a large piece of land with the American—my land.”

  “Your land?”

  “It is land no one wants. For a few reasonable payments to the right people in the right places, and as soon as the land is declared free of contamination, I shall have first refusal on its purchase.”

  “Bribes, you mean,” Laia said.

  Blue Eyes tilted his head. “If you wish to use such crude terminology. I prefer to think of it as the lubricant for the wheels of business. In any case, the people to whom I have made payments will ensure that any paperwork Felip and the American put through will be misplaced or found to be incomplete. The American will not build in Palomares. I do not wish to have American interests on my doorstep, but discouraging them could be a long, tedious and expensive process. This way, if the American drops his interest now, things will run much more smoothly. The land will be declared safe in the near future, and then I shall be free to build.”

  “And you will become even richer.” Laia’s voice was filled with scorn.

  Blue Eyes nodded acknowledgment. “It will be good for everyone—the old people, the holiday-makers and the locals who will have work on my building sites and in the hotels, bars and nightclubs I shall build.”

  “And I am supposed to do what about this?” Laia asked, sounding less confident.

  “I wish for you to have a conversation with your father. I would very much like you to persuade him that this venture is not in his—or anyone else’s—best interests.”

  “He won’t listen to me,” Laia said, “and even if he did, why should I do this for you?”

  I heard a loud click beside my right ear and turned to find myself staring down the barrel of a large pistol.

  ELEVEN

  Scarface had moved forward so silently, I had heard nothing, and now he was holding a gun to my head. And smiling. I instantly broke out in a cold sweat. I couldn’t take my eyes off the round black hole in the center of the gun’s barrel. It wasn’t very large, but all I could think of was the bullet exploding out of it and tearing through the flesh and bone of my head.

  “What are you doing?” There was a definite note of panic in Laia’s voice now. My breath was coming in short gasps, and my mouth felt drier than the rocks and sand around us.

  “I am making a point,” Blue Eyes said conversationally. “You undoubtedly noticed how easily my colleagues and I picked you off the street. Please do not doubt that we can do that anytime we wish—here, in Seville or in Barcelona. I have many contacts around the world, even in Toronto—Mississauga, to be precise, Steve.”

  Blue Eyes smiled at me, and I swallowed hard.

  “I am absolutely certain, Laia, that you would wish nothing bad to happen to Steve. I, too, would deeply regret any harm that came to him. However, the unfortunate truth is that Steve is surplus to my requirements. It is you, not your Canadian friend, who can persuade Felip to terminate the deal he is discussing with the American.” He turned to Scarface. “I think Steve has seen enough of the gun.”

  The big man lowered his weapon, replaced it in the holster under his jacket and stepped back. He looked almost disappointed.

  “I am a generous man,” Blue Eyes continued. “I will give you forty-eight hours. By that time, the American must be gone and you and Felip must be on your way back to Seville.” Blue Eyes nodded, and Scarface and Tattoo Head drifted toward the SUV. “I have enjoyed our conversation,” he said, turning back to Laia and me, “but I am a busy man, and my affairs do not run themselves. I regret that I cannot offer you a ride back into town, but the walk is all downhill, and it will give you a chance to reflect on my proposal.” Blue Eyes smiled broadly and strolled over to the SUV. Tattoo Head opened the front passenger door for him. When the door closed, Tattoo Head looked over at us and gave a small wave. It was not a friendly gesture.

  I held it together until the SUV was out of sight and then my legs gave way, and I collapsed onto my knees. Laia was crouched beside me in an instant. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “To be honest, I’ve been better,” I said with a weak smile. “I really thought he was going to shoot me.” I was almost crying with relief. Laia hugged me for a long time. When my emotions had settled down, I kissed her, and then we stood up. “What do we do now?” I asked.

  “We’d better walk into town,” Laia said. I glanced at my watch and was amazed how little time had passed since the SUV had picked us up. It had seemed like a lifetime.

  “We should still be on time to meet Felip,” Laia said.

  “Do you think Felip will do what Blue Eyes wants?” I asked as we set off.

  “Blue Eyes?”

  “That’s how I think of the old guy,” I explained. “Like the singer Frank Sinatra, although I doubt our Blue Eyes has ever sung in Las Vegas.”

  “Didn’t this Frank Sinatra have connections to organized crime?” Laia asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “but I don’t think anything was ever proven. Is our Blue Eyes organized crime?”

  “Russian Mafia, I would guess,” Laia said. “They’re big players all up and down this coast now.”

  “He doesn’t look like a mob guy.”

  “They all look like businessmen these days, but his friends looked like mobsters.”

  “You’re right,” I acknowledged. “Scarface and Tattoo Head.”

  Laia laughed. It sounded good. “Do you give everyone nicknames?”

  “Not everyone,” I said. “Just rude mobsters who don’t introduce themselves. So Blue Eyes controls the real estate around here.”

  “Probably through bribes and threats,” Laia explained, �
�but it’s not only real estate. The Russians control most of the prostitution and drugs along the coast. It’s easy to bring girls from Eastern Europe and hashish, cocaine and heroin from Africa and Asia into any of the ports along here. Most of the drugs in Europe come in through Mediterranean ports. It’s a huge business, and people like Blue Eyes control it.”

  “And he doesn’t want the Americans taking his business away.”

  “Exactly. American mobs might want to muscle in on his turf, or honest businessmen might take offense at the way he does business here. The last thing he wants is the American war-on-drugs guys sniffing around his operation.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to persuade Felip to back off?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Felip hates to feel like he’s being pressured to do something he doesn’t want to. He’s very stubborn. It’ll depend how it’s presented to him.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “The first thing is to find out how it went with your friend Chad. If he doesn’t want to go ahead, then our problem’s solved.”

  “I hope it works out,” I said, uncomfortable that my future safety might depend on Chad. “When they picked us up, I was sure it had something to do with Grandfather’s notebook and the code.”

  “Me too. I guess we’ve become a bit paranoid about spies and saboteurs.” Laia stopped and pulled the GPS out of her pocket.

  “We don’t need that,” I said. “We can just follow the track down the hill.”

  Laia nodded and busied herself with the buttons. “I thought so,” she said. “Location number five is close, just around that hillside.” She pointed to the left.

  “You still want to find out what Grandfather’s notebook means, even after what just happened to us?”

  “We can’t change what happened, and we have time before we meet Felip. There’s probably nothing there, but don’t you want to find out for sure? If we don’t find anything, then it’s over. I can’t think of any other leads we can follow.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s take a quick look. I do want to know what the fifth location is.”

  We left the path and worked our way around the hillside, Laia consulting the GPS. After about ten minutes, we came to a flatter area. “We’re here,” Laia announced.

  “You were right,” I said, sitting on a large, flat rock. “There’s nothing here. The ground looks the same as everywhere else in these hills—rocks, sand, cactus and a few scrub bushes. We could be on the set for a cowboy movie in New Mexico or Arizona. If anything happened here in 1966, there’s no sign of it now.”

  “Maybe,” Laia said. She was staring past me at the gently sloping hillside above us. “Some of the hillside has slumped down.”

  I stood up and turned around. If I looked hard, I could just make out a shallow, V-shaped groove on the hillside that led down to a jumble of rocks and dirt where the ground leveled out. The scar on the hillside, and even the rocks at its base, were barely visible. Bushes and cacti grew all over. “I see it,” I said, “but this happened hundreds of years ago, maybe even when the Carthaginians or Romans were here. In any case, way before 1966.”

  “It did,” Laia agreed, “but what do you call what’s at the bottom of the slump?”

  Suddenly it became clear. “A rockfall!”

  “Was your grandfather telling whoever decoded the notebook that something dangerous was hidden behind the rockfall here?”

  “Maybe,” I said as I moved toward the rocks, “but if the slump happened long before 1966, it couldn’t be the fifth bomb. This is a dead end.” I was suddenly very tired and thirsty, and every time I let my mind wander, Scarface, Tattoo Head and Blue Eyes leaped into it. I sat down. “These rocks haven’t moved in ages.” I looked out over Palomares and the new buildings lining the coast. All owned by Blue Eyes. I had much more urgent issues than figuring out what Grandfather’s cryptic notes meant. The image of the black barrel of Scarface’s gun hovered before me. It made my stomach lurch, and a wave of nausea passed over me. I suddenly felt cold.

  “There are marks on the rock here,” Laia said from behind me. She was crouched beside it, peering at something. “There’s a cross and a line and something that looks like an arrowhead.”

  “So what?” I asked miserably. “We’re not going to find anything here. There’s no magic door that will open and give us the answer to everything.” I was speaking more harshly than I intended, but I was feeling sick and scared. “Can we go? I’m not feeling very well.”

  Immediately, Laia was beside me, the rocks forgotten. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. My stomach doesn’t feel right, and I can’t get the image of Scarface holding the gun to my head out of my mind. It’s probably just the tension, but can we go and see Felip? I’ll feel much better if he tells us that Chad doesn’t want the land and is on his way back to Madrid. Maybe we can come back and look around here later.”

  Laia put her hand on my forehead. “You feel clammy,” she said. “Are you okay to walk down?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be doing something. That will help take my mind off Blue Eyes and his threats.”

  “Okay,” Laia said, offering me her arm as I stood up shakily, “let’s head down. You’re probably getting dehydrated as well. Something to drink and a snack will help.”

  “Don’t you feel scared?” I asked as we headed back to the path and down toward the town.

  “Of course I do,” Laia said. “I’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night worrying. But while there’s something that needs to be done, I can focus on that, and right now what needs to be done is getting you down the hill.”

  I smiled to myself, thinking, despite everything, how incredibly lucky I was to have met Laia. I began to feel better as we walked. Laia told me stories about Carthage and Rome and the wars they had fought. Her enthusiasm for her country’s rich history helped lift my spirits. All I needed was something to drink and good news from Felip.

  TWELVE

  Any hopes I had of Chad losing interest in Palomares real estate and going home were dashed the instant Laia and I walked through the door of Pedro’s. Not only had Chad not gone home, but there he was, sitting at a table with Felip, laughing and drinking wine. Laia and I exchanged glances, ordered a lemon Kas each and joined them.

  “Hey, kids,” Chad said cheerfully. “You have a good afternoon?”

  “Yeah,” I said noncommittally. “Did you find any hot properties?” I hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Laia almost choked on her drink with laughter, and Felip flashed me a warning look.

  Chad seemed oblivious to any double meaning. “Sure did. I know that land doesn’t look like much now, but after it’s cleaned up, it’ll have a lot of potential. Not too far from the beach or the town, and there’ll be some spectacular views from the fourteenth or fifteenth floors. You got to remember the basic rule of real estate around here: as the population ages, more and more people are going to search for the good life hereabouts, and boy, the good Lord ain’t makin’ any more land fer us all.” Chad chuckled at his little comment and fake southern drawl.

  I cringed. Chad was annoying in all his guises: cheerful joker, dull investment counselor and sleazy real-estate investor. It was difficult to tell which was the real Chad.

  “So you think American businessmen will be interested in building here?” I asked.

  “Sure will. Me and Felip were just thrashing out some details on how we are going to present it to them. The folks I’ve been talking with want to build a theme resort, and I’ve been thinking Roman—plenty of pillars, statues and courtyards. There’d be mosaics on the floors, and the floor numbers would be in Roman numerals. That way thirteen would be XIII and no one would get superstitious about it.” Chad chuckled again.

  “Is it easy for American interests to buy land in Spain and develop it?” Laia asked. “Aren’t there local interests who might not be happy?”

  For a moment, a serious look flashed across Chad’s
face, but then it was replaced by his usual toothy grin. “Oh, I reckon some folks’ noses will be put out of joint, but we live in a global economy. Money’s got to move where the opportunities are. That way everyone benefits. Right, Felip?”

  Felip looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he just nodded.

  Chad kept going. “Anyway, I was just saying to Felip that I’ve got a generous expense account for this trip, and I’d hate to waste it. Must be some good restaurants in those hotels by the beach. Would you kids care to join Felip and me for some dinner?”

  I looked at Laia and could tell immediately that she wasn’t any more keen on an evening with Chad than I was. “Thank you,” I said, “but I’m not feeling so good. Probably something I ate. It’d be a shame to waste a good meal.”

  “And I’m sure you have more business to talk to Felip about,” Laia added. “We’ll just relax and maybe catch something to eat if Steve feels better later.”

  “Good idea,” Felip said, in a tone that suggested he was happy we were not taking Chad up on his offer. “Chad has booked us into the Puesta del Sol Hotel just south of town. We checked in and dropped the bags off earlier. All you have to do is pick up keys at the desk whenever you want.”

  “Thanks,” Laia said. “I think, if Steve feels up to it, we’ll wander up and check out where bomb number two landed.”

  “A walk in the fresh air might do me good,” I said as we stood up.

  “That reminds me,” Felip said. “Can I have my GPS back? I’ve loaded the land designations on it, and it’ll help our discussions.”

  Laia hesitated. “You won’t need it to find bomb site two,” Felip said. “Just follow the main street through town. When you come out the other side, keep going until you come to the cemetery and a couple of small reservoirs. The fenced-off area is where the bomb landed.”

  Laia produced the GPS and handed it over.

  “Kind of funny, a bomb landing by a cemetery,” Chad said. No one laughed. “Anyway,” he went on, “from the cemetery, go down to the main road along the coast and head south. The Puesta del Sol’s signposted on the left. There’s even a sign in English. Puesta del sol means sunset. You can’t miss it.” Chad laughed again, but no one else had any idea what was funny.