by Jonas Saul
She hit the marble sidewalk, rolled into the base of a building and stopped. Pain flared through her shoulder wound. She winced, rolled onto her side and got to her feet. People had stopped and were gathering around her, mumbling questions in Greek.
“You all right?” one woman asked.
Foreign languages were whispered all around her. She moved past them and looked down the street but the car was gone.
They had been waiting for her. That car wasn’t already coming down the road. It had been parked, engine quietly idling. They expected Sarah to run when she lost sight of the Chinese man.
If Vivian hadn’t shouted, Sarah wouldn’t have made it. Clear and simple. She was in the middle of the road when that car was about to make contact. Under the wheels, run over by the front and back tires. That would’ve really pissed her off.
Barely making it pissed her off, too.
She pivoted to face the way the Chinese man had gone and started pushing through the gathered onlookers.
Up ahead at a corner in the shopping lane, he turned. She ran, pumping her arms even though it felt like her wound near her shoulder blade had reopened.
At the next corner, she turned left and continued running. The Chinese man was her only connection, her only way to end this. If she lost him now, she had nothing.
A daunting realization swept over her that she was on a wild goose chase. Casper was gone. She was chasing a shadow. This was a setup. It was a waste of time. An ambush.
But if so, why wasn’t Vivian stopping her? Questioning if she should be here or not was useless because she wouldn’t be if Vivian had told her to stay at the hotel. And wasn’t Vivian driving this bus at all times, even when it didn’t appear to be the case?
So Sarah ran harder. One full minute later, she caught sight of her target shambling along up ahead, moving faster then when she was trailing him before. He must’ve thought she got hit by that car. He was probably on his way to get paid. He thought his part in the ruse was over.
Not by a long shot.
She came up behind him. He hadn’t looked back. In front of a large tourist shop, Sarah snatched the book out of the Chinese man’s hand and retreated a few feet to examine it.
He grunted a protest and spun around to see who had ripped the book from him. When he saw her, he stepped backwards like he would lose his balance, his face a mask of fear.
Sarah rifled through the book. Every page was empty.
This was a joke. There was nothing here for her. Aaron was missing. A Mexican cartel was probably torturing him somewhere in Buttfuck, Mexico, and she was chasing a Chinese man through the tourist shopping streets of Athens. Her anger flared and what felt like spikes of flame heated her cheeks as she advanced on the retreating Chinese man.
“Who hired you?” she asked.
“Wǒ bù zhīdào,” he said in Chinese, his voice nasally and whiney.
He said he doesn’t know, Vivian whispered. Then Sarah’s sister told her how to respond in Chinese.
Sarah repeated the words in her head as best she could.
The Chinese man’s eyes widened when she spoke his language. He responded.
They didn’t meet. Phone call.
Vivian asked another question and Sarah repeated it, having no idea what Vivian was saying. It took all her will power to not throw a punch, but if what he was saying was true, he was just another pawn in Wong’s strategy.
He spoke again.
Meet at ancient grave on the plateau, Vivian translated.
Then the Chinese man turned and ran as if Lucifer himself chased him through the streets of Athens.
The Acropolis? Where is it from here? Sarah asked.
Vivian directed her and Sarah started off toward the Acropolis wondering why Vivian hadn’t made it easier. Why translate? Why not read his mind and offer what she learned to Sarah? Unless even Vivian had rules to follow. Maybe there were boundaries, limits. Was it possible Vivian could be in Sarah’s head, but not anyone else’s?
That had to be it. Otherwise, Vivian could just tell her where Wong was and be done with it. Why not tell her where Aaron was and how they could get him out safe?
There had to be limits because if she knew Vivian’s talent was all knowing and she let Aaron be taken and hurt, Sarah would be done with her sister.
Connection or no connection, fucking with family no matter who it was, cost plenty, and Sarah was all about consequences.
Even Vivian, if warranted, had to be accountable for her actions.
The dead could be hurt. If not, Sarah was confident she would find a way.
Chapter 44
It took her over thirty minutes to walk back to Monastiraki, get through the center of the square, along a row of restaurants and cafés, and up through what appeared to be a sidewalk sale of some kind where people were selling homemade trinkets.
Finally, weakening under the blazing and relentless summer sun of Greece, she approached the ticket booth to the Acropolis, waited behind a dozen tourists that had just been let out of a bus, and eventually bought a ticket.
Once through the main gate, she followed the thick crowd of tourists up sloping wide steps, stones that were probably placed there centuries ago, if not over a thousand years ago, and passed an ancient theater on her right. Under any other conditions, she would’ve loved to stop, listen to a tour guide or study a book in her hand to discover the secrets of a long ago society, but the secrets of her current one still needed unearthing.
Somewhere ahead of her, with Vivian as her guide, a man waited to pay the Chinese man off for luring Sarah into Athens.
Vivian, why is it you can tell me when an accident is going to happen but you can’t read minds?
Sarah waited for an answer as she climbed large marble steps that led between columns which seemed to rise at least thirty feet in the air.
You know, Vivian started, that we write our earth stories before we come to live them. I examine blueprints. I look into their books, their stories.
Sarah nodded to herself. That makes sense. But what about reading their minds?
Free will. People can change their path at will. Some of that is in their blueprint as their actions change but there’s only One who can understand the free will of earth-bound entities and I’m not that One.
It all slid into place like pieces of a grand puzzle. It made sense for Sarah. All the car accidents, the gunfire, the running and chasing people. Even her sister couldn’t see what people would do until they were doing it, until they chose that action. She didn’t know about the car until it moved to hit Sarah. She didn’t and couldn’t know how the Chinese man was connected until Sarah asked him. She saw that Aaron was about to be kidnapped and gave Sarah a way to stop it, but that didn’t work in time. In the end, Vivian was always there but she wasn’t God.
I wish … Vivian’s humor echoed through Sarah’s head as she thought of the Prime Mover.
Sarah caught herself smiling as she made it through a columned entrance and stood staring at the Acropolis. The large city of Athens lie below, spread out like butter on toast, melting in the Greek sun that sweltered anything in its path at this time of year.
They’re watching you …
Sarah didn’t spin around or duck down. She had no idea who was watching her or where they were. With one foot in front of the other, she walked toward the Acropolis like the rest of the tourists.
There are three of them … keep walking until you’ve reached the other side of the Acropolis …
Someone screamed from behind Sarah. She spun around, hands up in a defensive gesture, but it was an overweight tourist who had slipped on a particularly shiny, rounded piece of marble.
She turned back and kept moving forward.
Friendlies are coming …
That washed over Sarah like a wave of comfort. The sound of a helicopter could be heard over the wind that had picked up. Two large America-looking helicopters headed her way. They appeared to be armed.
What the
hell? Sarah thought.
Friendlies …
She made it to the other side of the Acropolis and stepped up to a small stone railing. There was at least a seventy-foot drop to the hard, rocky ground below on this side. She watched the helicopters approach, waiting for Vivian’s next message.
Tourists nudged past her in the dozens. So many out on this hot day, hats on for protection from the sun, smelling of coconut and Coppertone.
Drop now! Vivian’s voice charged through her consciousness.
Sarah’s knees gave way and she body checked the stone floor, a grunt escaping her lips as her shoulder blade protested the hit.
She caught a glimpse of clothes and flesh, but then it was gone.
A woman screamed, someone else cried out. Sarah got up on her elbows, trying to see what had started the raucous. People moved to the edge and looked over.
“I saw the whole thing,” a woman said. “He tried to push that girl.” The speaker pointed at Sarah.
A surge of adrenaline rushed through her. She got up on her knees and looked over the edge. A man lie sprawled out on a rock below, a splat of blood painting the rock beside his head.
A quick look behind her in case more attackers were coming was fruitless as the tourists crowded her trying to get a look over the edge.
“Okay, spread out,” someone yelled.
Sarah got to her feet, ready to move away from the edge of the wall, when a man in a Greek police uniform moved in beside her.
“Don’t play a hero,” he said as he jammed something into her side.
She looked down. A gun.
“Move.”
She started walking.
“You’re not Chinese. Where’s Wong?”
“Shut up.”
“Where’s Wong?”
He jammed the gun in farther. “Mouth closed.”
Sarah screamed as loud as she could. She moved away from the man in uniform and screamed again. He stared at her, stunned, the gun still held out in front of him.
“Mouth open, asshole,” Sarah spat at him, knowing the scream for attention was risky. But if he was a hired gun in a Greek police uniform, or an actual Greek cop, chances were low he’d shoot her with this many witnesses. With security tight at the Acropolis, he wouldn’t make it out of here if he shot her without probable cause. “I’m so sick and tired of this cat and mouse, cloak and dagger shit.” The helicopters raced by overhead, her voice nearly drowned out. “Where’s Wong? Or do you want to go over the edge, too?”
People spread out, moving away from them, forming a large circle that continued to widen by the second.
The fake cop looked down at his gun. “I’m the one with the weapon. Are you insane? I could’ve shot you. I still might.”
“I want Wong. That’s it. Go shoot someone else. I’m sick of this fucking game.” Her anger spilled over. She felt her eyes bulging, spittle escaping her lips. Her patience had become a thin string that just snapped. “I’ve got to go find Aaron and you’re fucking around with a toy gun.” She groaned so loudly it sounded like a warrior cry.
“It’s not a toy. See, look.” He fired once. The bullet ricocheted off the marble wall behind her, careened off something else and disappeared. Sarah waited a brief moment to hear someone groan, but no one did.
“Not a toy,” he said again.
“You jerk. You asshole.” She moved toward him. “You fucking idiot. That ricochet could’ve hit somebody.” She was in front of him now. “Kids are up here.”
She punched the wrist that held the gun, grabbed the barrel with her other hand at the same moment, and twisted the gun’s aim skyward. She relieved him of it before it could fire. He stumbled backward in pain, holding his wrist.
“You broke my wrist,” he said.
“Fucking amateur.” She cocked the weapon and aimed it at him. “Who are you?” Sarah asked as a woman screamed behind her. “Who sent you?”
He backed up to the wall, shaking.
“Just don’t shoot. It’s loaded.”
“As you just demonstrated. I know it’s not a toy. Now, who hired you—”
A gun went off somewhere close. Sarah, along with the remaining tourists in the area, ducked out of reflex but she didn’t take her eyes off the fake cop.
A hole opened in his forehead, accompanied by a short burst of red. His eyes widened in surprise and shock. He leaned back with the momentum the bullet had started, and slowly tumbled over the small ledge of the wall and disappeared.
More screaming. Someone shouted that the girl with the gun had shot the cop. But Sarah didn’t pull the trigger. Whoever pulled the trigger was sick of his hired help screwing up.
Sarah tried to ascertain which way the bullet had come from. She reminded herself that James Wong was a human trafficker. When his girls stepped out of line, he killed defenseless, weak women. He had money and could figure out ways to hide, but he didn’t have mercenaries on standby, hence the men he hired weren’t professional enough to do what was necessary.
“Wong!” Sarah shouted turning in a slow circle. “Show yourself.”
People scattered away from her. At any second a bullet could end her life, but she had faith that her sister was on the job.
The helicopters were circling. One of them was coming in closer. Squinting in the sun, she looked up. American choppers for sure.
What were they doing patrolling the skies of Athens? Another NATO arrangement? She doubted it. These men, if they were American, were Casper’s men. If that were true, why weren’t they with her on the ground, securing the Acropolis so Wong didn’t get away?
Someone broke through the crowd and stepped forward.
A professional-looking Chinese man in an expensive suit.
He met Sarah’s gaze and started toward her.
Is this Wong, Vivian?
He kept walking as one of the helicopters hovered not fifty feet above and behind Sarah. The tourists had all but disappeared around the sides of the Acropolis. Only a couple of stragglers stuck around, hiding behind small outcroppings, cell phones up, no doubt filming for YouTube.
Our world has become a strange place.
She waited, the fake cop’s gun held down at her side. When the Chinese man was ten feet away, Sarah yelled at him to stop, loud enough to be heard over the rotors above.
The man stopped.
“Name?” she shouted.
“James Wong.”
“You’re Wong? Yeah, right. Prove it.”
“Amsterdam. Five women in chicken wire.”
“You read that in the news.”
“Amber. Sven. Warehouse. Madam’s brothel. Toronto. Torture Club. ITA flight crashed. Believe me now?”
Sarah nodded. Another man approached from behind. A large man in an expensive black suit. Sarah waited until Wong noticed the man. Wong appeared to be unarmed.
“Where’s the ledger?” Sarah asked.
Wong didn’t answer. One chopper hovered. The other helicopter had disappeared over the ridge.
What the hell is going on?
Vivian didn’t respond.
Do these choppers belong to Wong?
The man in the black suit made it to Wong. He whispered in his ear.
“Casper’s dead,” Wong said to Sarah.
So that’s what happened to him this morning. Shit.
“I foiled your plan of ambushing me at the hotel,” Wong said. It was easy to hear him as he shouted quite loud. “But it was close. Had I not seen you in the restaurant this morning—”
“I need that ledger,” Sarah shouted.
“You’ll never find it. It’s safe on one of the Greek Islands until I return and pick it up. Too risky to continue to travel with it.”
“Which island?”
“I would never tell you,” he shouted.
This had gone from insane to absolutely maddening. It infuriated her to no end realizing that this saga may not come to a conclusion. All this shit for nothing. She needed the payoff. Maybe she would shoot
him and torture the location out of him. He killed Casper after all. That had to come with some kind of penalty.
The helicopter moved position, but stayed close behind her.
What the hell are they doing?
She took two quick strides toward Wong. As she did, the man in the expensive suit—it had to be hot in that thing—pulled out a silenced handgun. But Sarah was quicker. Her gun was up and firing before the large man could aim in her direction. Three bullets entered the man’s chest with one nicking his neck. Blood spurted out as he fell soundlessly beside Wong, the helicopter blanketing all sounds but gunfire and shouting.