by RT Lucas
“And maybe, if we can find them…” a sly smirk was forming on Gio’s face, “…we could hire the A-Team?” He started laughing as Celeste slapped his arm.
There was no point talking to him when he was in this frame of mind. No damn point at all!
As the plane touched down, and Celeste and Gio found their rental car they drove directly out to the Belcastro Mansion. When they arrived, they were both shocked at the rubble and ruins of what was formerly a stately home and the envy of most in the area.
“Gotta admire the workmanship.” Gio’s eyes were darting left to right, surveying the damage. “These were professional bombs and anti-personnel mines.” Whistling in appreciation, he held Celeste back with his arm as she was about to walk towards the grounds. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you, cupcake – there could still be mines that haven’t gone off yet and…” He made a ‘boom’ noise, and slapped his hands together as though emphasis were needed of what a bomb exploding could sound like.
Celeste stopped short before giving a smartass comment. Gio was right, the place wasn’t safe. Besides, there was probably very little information they would get from a pile of stone and ash. “Martinez and his men were the only survivors out of this, and they hold the keys to Belcastro’s empire? He stinks worse than a tramps foot. At least we now know for sure that the ‘gas explosion’ explanation in the police report is a fallacy.”
Gio really did want to impress Celeste, but when he heard that word he creased up laughing. “Fallacy…You said…fal...” He was laughing so much he couldn’t finish his sentence.
“I said ‘fallacy’, not ‘phallic’ you imbecile!” Celeste thwacked Gio in the ribs with her purse as she doubled back towards the rental car. “If ignorance was bliss, you’d be in a constant state of orgasm! Let’s just book into the hotel and get some proper work done before I lose my patience with you.”
Following her to the car, Gio was still laughing – all the way back to town and their hotel, even though his ribs were smarting from her attack.
Their fathers had booked adjoining rooms for them in the hotel, and after they had eaten a light lunch it was back to work. Gio was lying across Celeste’s bed, remote control in hand and flicking through the adult channels whilst Celeste was on her laptop, typing furiously and every so often stopping to scribble notes on her journal.
“Gio…” Celeste said his name very slowly, her voice quiet.
Reluctantly tearing his eyes from the television where he had found a rather interesting ‘shock-u-mentary’ on men who marry goats. “What have I done now?”
“Come look at this.” She leaned to the side to give Gio a clear view of her laptop screen. As she heard him approach and then stand behind her, he put his hands on the back of her chair.
“So…there weren’t only thefts of money and jewels in the Belcastro mansions prior to the attack, but there’s been consignments of guns, ammunition and explosives reported by families from Italy to the United States over the past month as well?” Gio was stunned at the level of ambushes, hijacks and thefts that were reported on the screen. Quickly doing some calculations in his head he asked, “Who would need that size of arsenal? An army?” He gave a short laugh at his own preposterous answer.
Celeste went deadly quiet, then her finger clicked on the mouse and the screen changed, showing a detailed graph which showed in detail high profile and decorated soldiers from around the globe who had all been reported as ‘unexplained missing in action’ by their respective armies and Governments.
“An army,” Celeste echoed Gio’s words back to him, adding, “A Carberletti army.” Even Gio wasn’t laughing now.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The shipment had arrived from Martinez’ mysterious Benefactor to his headquarters in Sicily. Three thousand kilos of ‘euphoria’ was just sitting there outside of his office, being unpacked and accounted for by his guards. Roberto, who had his foot blown off at the Belcastro mansion the night of the attack, had been redeployed by Martinez to oversee that the product was successfully delivered to their customer in Russia without incident.
Martinez couldn’t help himself, however – he needed just one more hit. Ever since he had sampled the drug, the drive inside him to have more had grown rapidly. He craved it and couldn’t concentrate on anything without wanting more in his system. Even his usual diet of cocaine, amphetamines and downers wasn’t satisfying him anymore. When he had experienced ‘euphoria’ it had taken him to heights he never knew existed and it had lasted well over twenty four hours – and yet he hadn’t noticed the time passing.
Closing the door to his office and locking it, Martinez pulled the cord from the wall disconnecting his phone and turned his computer and cell off. His hands were clammy and his pulse was racing in anticipation as he sat down and opened the small box holding the pre–filled syringe inside. His Benefactor had went to the trouble of packaging the drug like an expensive piece of jewellery – a black suede box with an embossed gold ‘AH III’ in bold letters, and underneath in gold embroidery the word ‘Euphoria’. Inside the box was plush purple velvet, and the gold syringe lay inside as though enshrined in its own extravagant coffin. The drug itself glistened in the chamber of the syringe, giving an aurora borealis effect as the light hit it. It truly was a work of art.
As the needle punctured his skin, Martinez’s eyes rolled back in their sockets and his hand fell away from the syringe. His veins were flooded with the insidious drug the agonising pain eased suddenly with pure unadulterated bliss. He was complete once more – as he lay slumped in his seat, his body limp and mind completely taken over.
Roberto already knew that Martinez didn’t think much of him, and since Snr Belcastro was dead, he was his new Boss. Roberto had a lot to prove. He didn’t necessarily agree with Martinez’ decision to cut back on the people trafficking – he quite liked the fringe benefits with that gig and was not one for drugs of any kind. Before the bombing in Mexico, Roberto had considered his body as a temple and so rarely drank, never smoked and absolutely refused narcotics of any kind. What he did enjoy indulging in, however, was fucking kidnapped women who had been enslaved into prostitution. That was something he could definitely get on board with. He enjoyed the empowerment he thought it gave him over them, and had enjoyed their screams as he kicked the shit out of them afterwards. He would miss that side of the business he thought petulantly to himself as he looked over the false export documents for the new product.
As the shipment left, on course for Valentin Baronovsky, Roberto tried to call Martinez to update him but got no response. He hobbled down the down the hallway leaning heavily on his crutches and knocked on his Boss’ door. There was no answer. The door was locked and so he grabbed one of the maids as she walked by, asking where Martinez was. Frightened, she merely pointed in the direction of his office before scurrying away from him. Giving Martinez’ door one last try, he cursed and turned back towards his own office, the cumbersome crutches making his retreat less than dignified.
The product was on the move, and it should be Martinez to inform the client of the progress – otherwise they’d look like an amateur outfit and most likely wouldn’t get paid for the shipment – being perceived as weak and disorganised. The problem for Roberto however was that he would be the one to take the blame, not the MIA Martinez. He was between a rock and a hard place and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
Martinez had been un-contactable for thirteen hours, and Roberto couldn’t have their client kept in the dark any longer. Switching on his laptop, he hacked into his Boss’ email account and sent a message to Baranovsky, giving in details the quantity and nature of the shipment, the address it was going to and the names of the airport officials they had paid off to get the drugs through customs. Signing the email with Martinez’ name, Roberto pressed ‘send’ and grinned smugly to himself on what a great job he’d done. He was sure the Boss would probably give him a salary increase for this.
****
Baranovsky sat back in his burgundy leather chair and looked out of his window, watching his staff tending the garden and his armed personnel patrolling the grounds. Yury had confirmed that Commander Raige’s intermediary had accepted his contract to find his daughter and her kidnappers. He did not tell Yury that he also had Martinez hired for the same job. He wanted his Petra found, by any means possible.
Valentin Baranovsky was a cautious man – he didn’t get to the enviable position of power with taking risks and being slack. No, he had carefully and skilfully built up both his legitimate and not-so-legitimate businesses, and was the envy of many of the Russian business community and mob alike. Sitting in his office, looking out, and his mind wandered. He pictured the young Petra as a toddler, playing out on the grounds with her nanny and the sound of her infectious laughter being carried through the open windows to his conference room where he was meeting with his associates. At the time, the noise had irritated him and he had sent word to the nanny that if she did not keep his child silent she would be ‘disappeared’. The meeting had continued thereafter without interruption. What he would give to hear her laughter now. And the irony did not escape him that it was his own flesh and blood who was now ‘disappeared’. Baranovsky did not have time for regrets, but if he did he thought that would be the one.
Baranovsky’s attention was brought back to the present by the ding of his computer notifying him that he had an email in his inbox. Turning his chair round back to his desk, his hand clicked on the mouse to open the document. He did not receive many emails personally. Most were via his staff, and forwarded to him at specific intervals which changed week to week. The reason for this being law enforcement intercepted his communications on a regular basis. That and rival families were well known for hacking into his systems.
He read the email slowly, mouthing the words silently as his eyes narrowed. It was from Martinez and it was giving in precise detail all of the information regarding his drug deal with the Sicilian. Baranovsky swore viciously as he read the email again. This was like a virtual grenade, and by opening it Baranovsky had just pulled out the pin. This email had the capability of destroying him and his empire! If the Anti-Corruption and Narcotics Division of the Politsya caught wind of this, his legitimate businesses would be closed down, all his assets frozen and he would be incarcerated for unlimited years awaiting trial before being sent away to a Siberian prison camp for the rest of his life. And if his rivals found out about his consignment of drugs? There would be a full scale mob war on his hands.
Was Martinez setting him up? Was he trying to get him put away so that he could make a move on his organisation? Was that what actually happened to Snr Belcastro – Martinez masterminding the whole thing?
Snapping his head up, Baranovsky’s face was still stern as he saw his companion smiling at him, sashaying across the room. Her high heels were click–clicking off of the marble flooring.
“What has made you unhappy, my darlink?” she purred as she sat on the edge of his desk pulling at his tie, her thin bony fingers reaching for his face. Baranovsky removed her hand from his face and tie, and silently showed her what he had been looking at. Immediately her demeanour changed, and a flash of anger showed up in her chocolate coloured eyes. She pushed off of the desk to stand behind Baranovsky as she read the email in closer detail.
“You are being betrayed, Valentin. I know too well about betrayal and backstabbing! Oh yes, darlink, I know all about betrayal! They speak such sweetness and lull you with lies and then…they strike! When they have stolen your trust and torn asunder your faith, they go in for the kill! Then they shred everything that you work for right in front of your very face and force–feed the scraps down your throat to choke you! This Martinez is out to destroy you!” Her voice was getting louder and more manic as she waved her arms in the air, pacing behind him. “We must annihilate this deceiver and make an example of him! No one will betray me again or escape my justice – they will learn to cower at my name!” She was hyperventilating and her voice had taken an almost screeching tone to it, and Baranovsky didn’t know if she was still talking about Martinez or something else, something personal to her.
As her mania continued, he was practically hunched forward in his chair, shrinking away from her – the air in the room was oppressive and there seemed to be a darkness creeping in, drowning out all the light.
For the first time in his life, Valentin experienced real fear.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Shuggie looked at the suitcases piled up on Teodora’s bed, shaking his head and laughing. “We arnie moving oot there lassie – a wee trip, ah said!” He didn’t even realise that she owned so many clothes – or why she needed them at all, his intention was that she would be clothed by his own body for the duration of their excursion.
Teodora shouted something to him from the bathroom, but he was busy struggling with the zipper of the top suitcase to hear her properly. “Jist as well ah own ma own bloody castle – plenty o’room fur yer belongings!”
Shuggie had been on cloud nine since he and Teodora had finally got together, and the speed with which their relationship had developed didn’t phase him in the least – he had been waiting thousands of years for someone like her, and a decade for her in particular. And now that they were engaged to be married? He couldn’t wait to make her his officially in front of his adopted family of Xavier and Alicia.
They hadn’t told anyone of the engagement just yet – at his own request. He was being selfish, but he wanted this time to be special between the two of them. There would be time enough to let the others know and join in with their celebrations, but this was their time, and nothing would interfere with it.
“Ye know we dae huv shops in Scotland, ye kin buy anything ye need o’er there!” And at half the price, he thought to himself. Shuggie gave up trying to fix the zippers on the suitcases, and sat on them instead. Squashing them down which made life much easier. He had never taken anyone back to his ancestral home. In fact, he very rarely went there at all, but he did keep up the maintenance of the castle and grounds, and employed a loyal and hardworking staff – none of which had ever laid eyes on him before. Being a vampire, it was difficult to explain to humans how he never actually aged as the years fell by.
Every couple of decades, he had a solicitor’s letter delivered to whoever was employed as Butler and Head of Staff to say that the Laird MacAndrew had passed away and his son had taken over the deeds for the entire estate, thus ensuring that no one ever questioned the legality of his ownership, or his own longevity.
It was important for him to take Teodora there, though. He wanted to involve her in all aspects of his life, and he trusted her like no other. He would bare his soul to her and know that she would take good care of his secrets. It was a very humbling and freeing experience for him and he felt like he was a young man again with his whole life of adventure ahead of him.
Teodora let out a piercing shriek as she entered the bedroom that she and Shuggie were now sharing. “Warrior! You shall squish all my beautiful clothes, please remove your bottom immediately!”
Teodora tut-tut-tutted as she placed her toiletries bag on the bed, giving a little waggle of her forefinger at her fiancé. “How very exciting yes, Scotland is said to be beautiful at this time of year, and finally you will have some downtime that you deserve.”
“It’s no every day a man gits engaged tae the lass o’his dreams.” Getting up from the suitcases, Shuggie wrapped an arm around Teodora’s waist and lifted her up, kissing her slowly, then lowering her back down. Aah’m afraid tae ask, bit huv ye got everything?” He gave her a look that dared her to say ‘no’.
Teo let out a loud giggle as Shuggie lowered her back onto her feet. “Midgie repellent is all that is needed.” Her ocean blue eyes scanned over the cases that were scattered over the floor of their bedroom. “I think I have enough shoes yes.”
Shuggie threw his head back, laughing. “Midgie repellent? Ye dinnae need that lass –
nae creature living or deid would dare take a bit oot a my bride’s flesh wi’oot paying the price.” Winking at Teodora, Shuggie mimicked drawing a sword and slicing the air as he danced around her. “I’d cut a midgie intae a thoosan’ pieces fur even contemplating it!” His laughter was echoing through the room.
“The Warrior dork.” Teodora shook her head laughing her smile was infectious as she watched Shuggie, he was so carefree and relaxed. The last couple of months had taken their toll on all of the compound and this little trip away, just the two of them was just what the Doctor ordered.
Kneeling ceremoniously on one knee in front of Teodora, he bowed his head. “Warrior Dork at my Lady’s service,” before laughing again and rising up to his full height.
“Are we ready then?”
“Ah’ve been ready fur ages – it’s you that’s been laggin behind.” Grabbing Teodora around the waist, he gathered up all her suitcases onto his shoulder and grinned down at her. “Scream if ye wannae go faster!” and with that he flashed them both to his castle and lands. They were deep in one of the surrounding forests when they arrived, and two horses were tied to trees awaiting them. As Teodora looked at him puzzled he explained, “Nae one knows that I’m no a mortal, lass. We huv tae gie the impression we arrived as humans would. An ah figured riding in on horseback woudnae be the least romantic thing in the world neither.” Fixing the cases to the saddlebags of one horse, he turned and held his hand out to Teodora. “Would ye permit me tae help ye up?”
“Oh gosh Shuggah, this is a wonderful surprise, yes.” Teo held her hand out as Shuggie carefully helped her up and onto the horse, paying attention to every detail until he was satisfied that she was safely in position. It was a calm evening.