Enclave - part two - a thriller in progress
It’s a given that men in our line of
work are stupid to have children. In one
of life’s cruel mysteries, we also seem more fertile than normal men.
If a scientist chose to study it, they
would probably determine it has something to do with excess testosterone.
But
the ex-Russian spy sitting across from me just admitted he had a child and that
was leverage we just don’t share. Ever.
“Five
minutes,” I told him.
“Three,”
he said as he glanced at Holley, AD and Kinzey.
His lip curled up in a hint of a smile, and I answered with the ghost of
a grin of my own.
“An
older girl, then twin boys, then another girl.
Someone has taken my oldest,” he reached into his brown leather coat and
snorted as I tensed up.”
He
pulled a new manila folder out of his pocket and slid it across the table.
“Complete
dossier.”
I
opened up the envelope. A thick stack of
hundred dollar bills, photographs and two loose credit cards floated around
inside.
“Wiring
instructions for your fee,” he continued.
“Clean credit cards and expense money.”
I
glanced over at my children, all three watching me now. I could imagine how I would feel if someone
stole them. And felt a pang of sorrow
for having to cut my time short with them.
Again.
“You
know this is a threat,” I said.
He
nodded.
“I
have left you no choice,” he said. “I am
sorry.”
“Your
number?”
“In
the file,” he said and pushed his bulk away from the table. “I will be in touch.”
I
watched him waddle back through the pool door and out into the lobby.j
“Who
was that?” Holly asked as she came over dripping. Her large brown eyes looked up at me, a man
she saw three or four times a year.
Sometimes she even called me Dad.
“An
old friend,” I lied.
I
was never in the spy game, so I couldn’t call him a friend. Notable acquaintance, and one time
adversary. I wasn’t sure an eleven year
old mind could comprehend that.
“What
did he want?”
“Work,”
I said too quickly.
The
problem with a brain that works ahead too far into the future is that it misses
what’s right in front of it. Like three
brown-eyed children shivering under blue striped pool towels.
“You
have to go back to school?” Kinzey asked, her voice soft.
On
the books I was a part time novelist and regional sales manager for a small
multi-national school. I can travel
often and unpredictably and still hit my home base of operations at any time.
Off
the books… I fix problems. I don’t do
off the book work any longer.
Which
is why when Dmitri walked through the door, he knew he was a dead man.
Pacino
said in one of the Godfather movies, something about the mob and it’s ability
to let go of just one life...he could have been talking about my line of work.
“I
do, sweetheart.”
I
pulled them in for a big group hug.
“Let’s
go upstairs and pack.”
The
were used to me leaving.
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