Jais

by Jason Kasper

  Karma replied through the door, “This happened when you two fought over the best bedroom in the last safe house. Remember?”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  “Yes, it did.”

  Ophie said, “She’s right. I remember that now.”

  Matz shook his head and murmured, “Son of a bitch.” Then, he composed himself and yelled, “I’ll just kick down the fucking door.”

  “I’m naked,” Karma reminded him.

  “Then I’ll kick down the fucking door,” Ophie shouted. He started to run forward, but Matz threw him into the wall. Ophie tackled Matz around the ribs, and they crashed to the floor, each wrestling for the dominant position. I stepped over them and walked down the hallway to the kitchen, opening cabinets until I found one filled with half-empty bottles. Rummaging through them, I selected a handle of Jim Beam and turned to see Boss standing behind me.

  He said, “If you need a sleep aid right now, you’re beyond all hope.”

  I studied the bottle. “I find the medicinal and restorative properties of alcohol somewhat rejuvenating after a long night awake.”

  “So do I.” Boss opened the fridge and peered inside. He withdrew a bottle of beer, examining the label with a nod of approval. “Ian’s been finding my favorite IPA for years now, no matter where we travel. Next time, we’ll ask him to stock a bottle of your bourbon.”

  “I thought there wasn’t going to be a next time,” I said, finding a glass.

  Boss’s face showed the faint trace of a smile as he popped open his beer with a bottle opener he found on the counter. He seated himself at the round table, leaving me to fish some ice cubes out of the freezer before filling my glass with amber liquid. I sat down across from him.

  He held his beer bottle toward me, and I clinked my glass against it.

  “You’re going to miss this, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “A few years ago, this kind of work didn’t exist. Soon, it will never exist again. You’re coming in at the end of the gold rush. The war between these organizations wasn’t going to last forever.”

  “What type of organizations are they?”

  He took a sip of beer and set down the bottle.

  “The less you know, the better.”

  “I think I’m starting to prove myself to you.”

  “You’ve absolutely proven yourself to me. That’s why I’m telling you that the less you know, the better.”

  “Is the Handler as evil as Ian says?”

  “Ian’s not an action guy, David. He’s the guy who sits in front of computers and radios and tells us what we need to know, but he’s never put a bullet through anything in his life, except a paper target. Everything’s scary to him. That’s why you have us.”

  “I’m not asking about Ian.”

  “You think the Handler doesn’t bleed? We could get to him, too, if we took the time. But if any of us survived the effort, it wouldn’t be for long.”

  “How do you think this next job is going to turn out?”

  “Not well.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  He sat back in his chair. “We’ve never done anything like this before. They won’t see it coming.”

  “Then why do you say ‘not well?’”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  “All right. I had a dream right before Caspian got killed. Actually, I’ve had that same dream with startling regularity every time I’ve lost someone, both during my time in the military and afterward.”

  “And you’re having it again?”

  “It’s different this time.”

  “How?”

  He shook his head slightly. “One of us is going to die on the next mission, and this time I think it’s going to be me.”

  “What does the dream involve?”

  “A ship.”

  “What else?”

  He shook his head again. “That stays between us, you understand?”

  “Why are you telling me and not the others?”

  “Because you’re not going to turn into the others, David. You’re going to turn into me.”

  A door slammed in the house, startling us. He sighed and settled his shoulders. I leaned forward in my seat, taking a long pull of whiskey as we heard the shower start again.

  Boss continued, “The worst enemy those guys will ever face is a man with a gun. Ours is our own mind, and you can’t kill that unless you do it for good. Other than that, the only difference between you and me is about twenty years of experience and your alcohol tolerance.”

  “That sounds like a compliment.”

  “It’s not. You’re an arrogant little cocksucker, but so was I. You’re a quick study, and the guys are giving you shit while they can. If this business is around for you to stay in, you’d be giving the orders someday. So be careful when you decide what you’re going to do after our last job. Because this”—he held out his arms, his beer bottle in one hand, his exhausted eyes leveling with mine—“is what the view looks like.”

  * * *

  The house was silent as I emerged from the bathroom, feeling clean but disagreeably sober. I put my bag and towel in my bedroom, the last one to remain after the others staked their claim. I returned to the kitchen and poured a tall drink over ice, then raised it to my face to smell its cool, comforting vapors. Before long, I was wrapped in that familiar, sweet warmth that absorbed me into its safety, the lover’s embrace that calmed my racing mind and pulsing body. My thoughts slowed back down to a harmonious vibration as I set down the glass, now empty aside from a few lonely ice cubes.

  I returned to my room to get some sleep while the requisite amount of alcohol took hold in my system. Shutting the door, I stripped to a pair of gym shorts and lay down beneath the blanket, my mind spinning pleasantly as I closed my eyes. When my thoughts were laced with liquor, I experienced no jaw-clenching ruminations on the past, no thoughts of where I went wrong or what mistakes I made, no rubbing my temples and staring at the floor, exhaling endlessly. Alcohol was certainly an evil, but it was much less of an evil than the alternative, and it allowed me to buffer myself from the reality of my life, and of my past, at will.

  The high-frequency ringing in both ears likewise ranged from a harsh inconvenience to a barely noticeable detail, depending on the number of drinks in my system. Although it wasn’t bothering me at the moment, my hearing was still damaged. I never heard my bedroom door creak open, but I did hear it close.

  My eyes opened to see Karma standing in front of me, her hair pulled back in a wet ponytail. She was wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt with no bra, and she approached my bed silently. Then she pulled back my blanket and straddled my waist. The mattress creaked as she lowered her face to mine.

  I whispered, “Your brother is right next door.”

  She put her lips against my ear. “Life is short, David.” Her weight shifted as she rubbed her thighs against me. “I want you to see a doctor.”

  “I’m not going to.”

  “It feels like you’re considering it.”

  She kissed my neck, and then sat up. Her hands caressed her stomach before she held the bottom of her T-shirt and slowly pulled it off. My eyes roamed her body, taking in the tattoos I hadn’t yet seen. She reached behind her head with both hands, rolling her hips in a circular motion as she let her hair down around her shoulders.

  I put my hands on her thighs and slid them upwards to her hips. She took my wrists and pinned them over my head, lowering herself over me to whisper in my ear again, “I want you to see a doctor.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  She resumed kissing my neck as she rubbed her body back and forth over mine. “What was your fiancée’s name?”

  “You know, I have no idea.”

  She kissed my chest. “Who was yo
ur last girlfriend?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  She trailed her lips up my neck to my chin, stopping just short of my mouth. Then she wrapped her palm around my jaw, squeezing my cheeks in her hand. Her face hovered over mine, her lucid blue eyes staring at me.

  “And who am I, David?”

  “Karma.”

  She leaned forward, letting her breasts graze my face before bringing her eyes back to mine. “Say it again.”

  “Karma.”

  She smiled and brought her lips to my ear. “After this, you’re going to remember me for the rest of your fucking life.”

  And I did.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Suicide!” Matz yelled. “Get your fucking ass over here and sit down.”

  I turned from the cabinet, and he saw the whiskey bottle in my hands. His face darkened with angry disbelief as he addressed me very slowly, as if speaking to a child.

  “Put that back right now. Boss picked out a few nice bottles of Cabernet, and you’re not pairing whiskey with my fettuccine with tomato, pancetta, and chèvre.”

  Karma, seated across the table from Matz, turned around in her chair and glared at me.

  “He’s been cooking all day, David. Show a little respect.”

  I put the bottle back.

  The sole remaining seat at the table faced Boss, and as I took it he and I sat in the same chairs we had the first time we spoke in the safe house. Karma had painstakingly set the table, arranging three candles around bowls of salad and pasta, a salt shaker that went untouched, a basket of bread, and several bottles of wine, one of which Ophie was working to uncork.

  He handed the open bottle to Boss, and we watched in silence as Boss poured a generous portion of wine into each glass. He looked over every face at the table before saying, “Before commencing our final team dinner in America, I would like to summon Reverend Ophie to deliver the invocation.”

  Ophie, who had been examining his fingernails, looked up before clearing his throat. “Shit, it’s… ah, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. I’ll try to dust off the cobwebs… Let us join hands.”

  Matz extended his palm and looked at me expectantly. I glanced around the table, noting that the others had joined hands already.

  Sighing with resignation, I took Matz’s hand with my left and Karma’s with my right.

  Ophie closed his eyes and bowed his head.

  “Merciful and loving Father, we gather here tonight in thanksgiving for the food and fellowship you have so graciously bestowed upon us. Dear Lord, we know this is a stupid fucking plan, what with David slingshotting across the sky to his death in a squirrel suit and a three-man ambush team with me as its only warrior… since Matz has been filled with too many bullets and is nearly a gimp and Boss is so old he went to fucking middle school with your Son.”

  Karma shouted, “Preach it, brother, preach it!”

  “But in your infinite wisdom and tenderness, give us the steely eyes to stare the devil in the face one last time, the steady hands to detonate high explosives and incinerate our enemy before slinging rockets and lead into any survivors trying to run out of the wreckage because they’re on goddamn fire, the strong hearts to flee the scene on foot and make it to our getaway cars before security or law enforcement arrive and have to get shot in the fucking face, too, because they’re standing in the way of us and our retirement fund.”

  Matz’s eyes were pinched shut in concentration as he yelled, “Hallelujah! Hosanna!”

  “And, finally, wise and graceful Father, look over us poor bastards at our final destination. In your heavenly light, may you protect us from the venereal scourges of model-tier prostitutes, from the sinful brutality of mamajuana hangovers, and from letting Boss smoke so much weed that he actually relaxes for the first time in his very, very long life. Amen.”

  Everyone released hands and applauded politely.

  Ophie turned his eyes skyward before adding, “That’s the product of eight years of good, wholesome Baptist schooling right there. I told you those tuition checks wouldn’t go to waste, Momma. Miss you every day.”

  * * *

  I never saw Boss touch his glass of wine, though nobody else seemed to notice.

  The others had no such problem; by now, the dishes had long been cleared and Ophie was opening the third bottle while toying with Matz, who was seated across from him.

  “And what, exactly, are you going to do with this car once you get it? Nothing but dirt roads down there, anyway.”

  “Bullshit,” Matz replied. “There are plenty of Ferraris there already; I’ll just be importing the first F40.”

  Beside me, Karma rolled her eyes. “That car is not going to solve your problems.”

  “Yes, it will,” Matz and Ophie responded in unison.

  Boss leaned forward and placed his palm flat on the table, silencing the group. Looking at the wall behind me, he said, “I’m tired, guys. I need to prepare for what’s ahead.”

  “You never sleep,” Matz replied.

  “I will this time.”

  Ophie said, “Get your old ass to bed, then.”

  Boss rose slowly from his chair. “Goodnight, gentlemen. Karma.”

  As he turned and walked out of the dining room, Ophie looked back at Matz. “You won’t even be able to get one into the country.”

  Matz resolutely shook his head. “You’re severely underestimating this place, man. I won’t even have to pay import tax, because you can bribe a politician for the exemption. And the money launderers can get anything they want in and out of the ports.”

  As I looked at the dark doorway that Boss had passed through, Karma’s hand touched my knee under the table and began tracing the curve of my thigh. Sliding my eyes to her, I saw that her face was directed toward the others.

  “Excuse me,” I said, standing to leave.

  Matz said, “You’re not going to bed already, are you? You and I still have something we need to talk about.”

  “No, I’ll be right back.”

  I rounded the corner into the hallway and headed for the bathroom before stopping and looking over my shoulder. I could hear Karma’s voice over the clank of bottle against glass, followed by Ophie’s raucous laughter.

  Turning, I continued down the hall to Boss’s room.

  His door was closed, and I gave it two light raps with my knuckle. No response. I turned the handle and opened the door to see Boss sitting on the corner of his bed in the lit room, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He was staring at a single photograph in his hands, and I caught a glimpse of smiling twin girls before he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and a weary face that bore the pain of a lifetime.

  “David,” he said quietly, “I knew you’d come.”

  “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “Looking for the profound last words of your team leader?”

  “Something like that.”

  He smirked and turned his eyes back to the photograph. “Then here they are: everything we do—all the guns, the money, the planning, all of it—is just a distraction to keep us occupied from our own realities. If you live your life right, you won’t need any of that.”

  “What about everything you said to me that first night in the basement, about flirting—”

  “Flirting with death? The perfect rush? We needed you to kill Saamir for us, and we needed it done on a timeline. If you weren’t as fucked in the head as I am, I would have just offered you cash and been done with it. And I’m telling you the truth now, because I won’t get another chance after you leave that plane tomorrow.”

  “A dream can’t predict the future, Boss.”

  “Ian’s going to get you guys down south. I’m not worried about that. But once you get there, take care of Matz and Ophie. They went through a lot well before you joined us, so get them whatever they need. Listen to Karma in that regard, because when it comes down to it, she knows those two better than they know themselves.”


  “I’ll take care of all three of them, Boss. You have my word. I don’t want you to worry about that now.”

  “After that, my final wish for you is that you take your share and start over. Get married, have a family, and put everything you’ve done with us in that place inside that your wife won’t know about, along with everything you’ve already got from Afghanistan and Iraq. Veterans have been doing that since the dawn of war, and now it’s your turn.”

  “You’re really sure you’ll die out there?”

  “David, I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life. This one will be it for me, and I’m going into it with my eyes open. Now let me be.”

  “Goodnight, Boss. And thank you for everything.”

  “Goodnight, David.”

  I backed out of the room and into the hallway, gently closing the door before walking back to join the others.

  * * *

  When I returned to my seat at the table, I saw Matz looking at Karma.

  “All right,” he said, “time to go. The adults have to talk.”

  Karma replied, “Since I’m not trustworthy enough yet?”

  “There are things you don’t need to know.”

  I felt her hand on my thigh again, but she never took her eyes off Matz as she slid it upward. “You realize I’m the only one in this house who really likes you, right?”

  “It’s not a popularity contest.”

  “Lucky for you.” She began moving her hand back and forth on my lap. “You may want to think twice before pissing me off, Matz.”

  “Leave us.”

  “Sure thing. Have a great night, everyone. I know I will.” She gave my pants a final, firm rub before tilting back her head to drink the last of her wine. She stood, pushed in her chair, and left.

  Ophie sat back, neatly folding his hands across his abdomen. “And then there were three. Nice work, Matz. Let’s upset David’s getaway driver.”

  Undeterred, Matz leaned forward, his intense eyes staring into mine. “You know how bad we need those mortars, right?”

  “Sure,” I said, shifting in my seat. “They’ll trigger the entire operation.”