My Final Story/ Operation Morrot

Sometimes being a spy really sucks! Like now when I’m sitting in the back of a Russian warlord’s car with a potato sack over my head that smells like it hasn’t been washed in quite some time. The road was bumpy and I was betting we were in the countryside. If my escorts rolled down the window I could probably tell by the smell, but I think it was their goal to make the car as cramped, stuffy, and uncomfortable as possible. Sometimes I play an international playboy, sleep with beautiful women, and do Bond-like things, usually though I’m just in the business of killing people. Not that the flunkey with the gun pointed at my head knows why I’m really here. Why go through all the trouble of tracking down my target when I could just set up a meeting with him and kill him then? Why walk 50 miles when you have a sports car with good mileage?  

The car came to a very abrupt stop. We're here; time to do the dirty things I do best. I was pulled from the car and the sack was roughly yanked off. I squinted into the lights that were coming from a cabin in front of me. As I was shoved into the cabin I noticed that there were rather few guards; I hope the number remained relatively few. As I stepped into the cabin I added up all the people I had seen and by my guess I should only have to kill about five people to get to Russia's most notorious warlord. As it happens so rarely, it is a real treat when my job is easy. I sat in a chair by the only other piece of furniture in the one-room cabin, a table that had seen too many Russian winters, and waited. Stasik Yeltsin would make me wait to prove how important he was, after all I was just a lowly computer hacker. After a quarter of an hour Mr. Yeltsin himself walked in with a briefcase and my show was on the road. He put the briefcase on the table and opened it. When he turned it around to show me the money inside he said, “I think you will find fifty-thousand U.S. satisfactory for hacking into Gazprom bank. It was, after all, only a start-up job”. 

“Not what we agreed on. I hack into one Moscow bank’s computer and get you 3.2 million dollars and you want to give me only half of what you promised. I now want double”! I knew Yeltsin would double-cross me and I was glad as my plan hinged on his untrustworthiness. His body guard moved up be hind me and placed a hand on my shoulder. 

“You think you can dictate terms to me” Yeltsin fumed “you do not even have your gun”. 

I leaned back in my chair and into Yeltsin’s behemoth bodyguard, “Why would I need my gun when I have your man’s”? It was a simple matter of reaching my hand up and into the jacket of the man I was leaning against. I pulled the gun from the bodyguard’s holster and shot Yeltsin in the head and before the bodyguard could react I (still sitting below him)  shot under his chin and he crumpled to the ground. When I was sure no one outside the cabin  had heard their comrade's deaths, I searched the bodyguard for his extra ammunition and got ready to kill the rest. I called out to the men outside and  all three of them walked through the door at once.  I didn't even need the extra ammunition, but bullets are like condoms. The entire job was over in a few minutes. I poured out all the guards’ Stolichnaya  bottles and set fire to the cabin. Sighing as I took in the blaze’s heat I wished the rest of my week would go so smoothly. Yeltsin wasn't going to need his car any more so I drove it back to Moscow, certain that this ride would be much more comfortable than my last.

*****

 I fully admit to enjoying the finer things in life. When one sometimes has to sleep on the floor of a cave in the Iraqi desert, one often indulges in life’s luxuries when caves are not a necessity. So it should come as no surprise to anyone that I ditched the car in one of Moscow’s poorer neighborhoods and then walked myself to the five-star hotel I was staying at. There had been a long coat in the back of the Yeltsin’s car and I gratefully buttoned it up over the blood splatter on my suit. I entered the pristine lobby of the Royal Aurora Hotel and took the elevator up to my suite intent on sleep. The first thing I noticed when I walked through the door was that the lights were lower than I had left them, the second thing I noticed was the scent of a woman’s perfume, and the third thing I noticed was the reason for the first two things. A very attractive brunet was sitting in the far left corner of my suites main room and she had a Sig Arms P220 pointed at my head.  I knew if this was a hit I would have been shot immediately upon entering. I had a reputation for foiling assassination attempts. I sat across from her, careful to be as non-threatening as possible, as I sized her up.  She was clearly comfortable with a gun but what surprised me was everything else about her. She was a very petite woman with deep chestnut hair, light flawless skin, large azure eyes, and lips as full as her extremely voluptuous figure. I also would have bet exorbitant amounts of money she was barely over 20 years of age. I was immediately curious and extremely fascinated by the porcelain doll sitting in my suite. She put the gun on the table and stood. “Drink” she asked in a slight French accent. She stood and poured two glasses of red wine. When she turned back to me from her task my gun was pointed at her.  She tsked, “Now don’t be boring. After all, this is a 2001 Brunello Di Montalcino”. She took a small sip from her glass and sighed “best way to spend 110 dollars” She bent over, giving me a nice view of the ample cleavage her tight purple dress flaunted, and put the wine on the coffee table in front of me. “I put my gun on the table” her voice was husky and inviting but I raised my eyebrows at her words. She leaned closer “fair is fair”. No matter how seductive this woman was, I wanted answers first.

I smirked “in case you haven't noticed fair is hardly the order of any day”. 

She smirked back, “Too true Daniel Ames. Sad, and far too true”. How the hell did this woman know my name my head screamed?

My face got cold and hard as she sat next to me and I got another whiff of that perfume. “You have me at a disadvantage”.

She assumed a look of feigned shock “I have you at many” she paused and smiled “oh, you mean my name”. She smiled and delicately shrugged “my name is Esme Morrot”.

I took a deep breath and said, “As in the daughter of notorious Gabriel Morrot, leader of the Morrot crime consortium? That Esme Morrot”?

She went very still, “yes”.

Realizing there was something very big going on and I needed as much information as possible, I simply asked, “And the strongest thing you brought to drink was wine”?  Her face broke out into the first real and not premeditated expression. It was a smile, and it was devastating.

“I suppose the great big question on your mind, besides whether the bra and panties match, is what the hell the daughter of one of the few top-tier criminal consortiums is doing in your suite”.

“It crossed my mind” I said in a very dry tone.  

She took a trembling breath “Merrot International has recently undergone a hostile takeover. Somehow all of our assets, companies, bank accounts, and hell even employees  were absorbed into another company akin to ours. Unfortunately when one consortium takes over another the leaders of said beaten organization receive their pink slips in the form of bullets”.

I watched her bite her lower lip and while she stared at her hands I asked a question to which I already knew the answer, “Your father”?

“Executed in front of me and before you ask about my younger brother you should know that he was taken by the other side. I escaped but we were transported from our home separately”. She paused and looked up at me her eyes brimming with horror “I don’t even know if Francis is alive. He is only eight years old. I need your help”.

“Why do you think I would help you” I asked cautiously

“The enemy of my enemy and all that. And no matter how happy your government will be to know that the Merrot consortium is out of business, if the Karras consortium solidifies itself with as much power and wealth as the two consortiums combined you are all screwed”.

“Maybe we should just let you guys fight it out”.

“I have nothing to fight with” she fumed. “I have no power, no money, and no allies I can trust. The ‘bad guys’ are all suspect so I am turning to the, and I use this term very loosely, ‘good guys’. With all the consortiums in power there is balance, if one gets too powerful I would be very afraid Daniel Ames”.

I just looked at her unimpressed. 

She paused as though studying me and then said something that completely took me off guard, “Daniel in Hebrew means ‘God is my judge’. You know what will happen to me without the aid of your government? If I leave your suite without you as my friend, I face certain torture and death. Tell me Daniel, if you let me walk out, how do you think God will judge you then”? She shrugged a very French shrug and took a sip of the wine I had forgotten.

My decision was already made if the situation was as she claimed. One single consortium could never be allowed supremacy over the others. “I will contact my superiors in Washington  tomorrow morning”. She smiled but before she could say anything else I asked “How did you escape your kidnappers”? 

Her face fell into tight lines “The safe-house I stayed in the first night with my captors was the night I escaped. We were headed to a private airport I think”. She took a deep breath “That first night one of the men who locked me in a small room with no windows came to bring me food. He thought I was helpless and as good as dead and I am certain he was very bored, so he thought to occupy his time with me. He tried to hold me down but the damn fool came in armed. I took his knife and cut his throat before he could make a sound. It was the same knife he had pressed to mine earlier as a warning to keep silent but I guess he needed both hands”. She laughed short, bitter, and humorless. “I took his keys and killed another man for his gun. I ran and stole and listened for an opportunity. I heard about you and thus I am here”.  She looked at me as though to ask: is that sufficient? I knew there had to be terrible things she was forced to do in order to get to me so I should not have voiced my astonishment aloud and been more sensitive, but I still wondered aloud how any trained person could have put themselves in her kidnapper’s situation. She pushed her lower lip out in a fake pout “you cannot imagine a man becoming distracted in my presence”? She put one hand on my thigh and languorously began to move it upward, that sexy pout still on her face. I knew my night was going to be hell because of what I was about to do next but I did it anyway. I grabbed her hand before it made contact with that aching part of me and placed it back in her lap. 

I sighed, stood and walked over to where the wine bottle sat, “Trust me when I say I want to. Your beautiful and I cant imagine being more tempted, but I will call Washington in the morning regardless of anything that could happen between us. My help is not contingent upon sex. I wont use you as a whore”. She looked shocked but then she smiled one of those smiles that looked so real and unpracticed. 

“Thank you”

“The bedroom is all yours. I’ll sleep out here”. She stood and swept towards the bedroom. 

At the door she paused and said softly “I wont blame you if you change your mind, after all salvation is usually not free”.  And with those parting words sure to torment me all night she walked in and quietly shut the door. I took one long look at the door and really sympathized with poor Tantalus. Then I settled down on the couch for what I was certain would be an uncommonly long night.  

***** 

The next morning I called base-opps from the bathroom of my suite. After giving my confirmation code I asked that the director call in all the senior agents, analysts, and game theorists for this call. A few minutes later Director Morgan’s voice came over the phone, “Everyone is assembled Agent Ames. Was the mission unsuccessful?”  

“Target is eliminated, however I need confirmation of some information and advice on how to proceed with this intelligence.” I rehashed what happened in my hotel room with Esme. There was a pause where I was certain not even a pin would have dared drop in the operations room of the black-opps contingent of the CIA that I called home.

I heard Agent Missoula state the obvious with “We had heard reports that Morrot International was dismantled, but it is hard to believe. Now that we know who did it we cannot allow the Karras Consortium to gain that much power and wealth. We have to strike before they have consolidated their new acquirements.” 

Director Morgan interrupted what I am sure would have been a lengthy speech with, “Agent Ames, what are your impressions of Miss Morrot?” 

I took a deep breath, “She is young but I don’t think she lacks for intelligence; she even seems jaded in a way I haven’t ever seen in someone her age. A consummate lair and I am certain she is accustomed to manipulating everyone around her and using them to her own ends as she means to use us.

 “So we should not render aid to Miss Morrot?”

I exhaled, “I didn’t say that. We are intending to use her as she intends to use us. She is also extremely motivated both by self preservation and by the desire to rescue her young brother. Her inside information would prove to be useful and I believe we have a better chance of success  at destroying Kerras with her.” 

I finished my evaluation to Director Morgan and Evan Hutton, our tech guy, got on the phone.  “Ok, highlights of Esme Morrot. Well she is smart. I.Q. circa 180. The chick is 19 and currently earning her PHD in archaeology from Oxford. Undergraduate and masters earned at University of Chicago in the same subject. She skipped a lot of primary school. Her father was Gabriel Morrot and her mother was Katya Krinov, her father’s mistress. Her mother died soon after Esme’s birth. Has one half-brother, eight years old, and a cousin on her mothers’ side, Victor Repin, 26 years old and taken in by Gabriel Morrot not long after Esme’s second birthday. I guess you know her physical stats.” he chuckled, “ Four personal kills and over 25 done on her orders. She is an expert fencer. Martial arts proficiency in: Aikido, Gatka, Jeet Kune Do, Ju Jitsu, Naginata... the list keeps going. Competent in over 30 different types of firearms, and she has had an ex-Massad bodyguard since the day she was born, Omri Magal. All in all Agent Ames she is dangerous.”

I smiled; as if I could have thought otherwise although the list did impress me, “Thanks for the warning Hutton”.

“Wait” Evan practically shouted into the phone “While some of the consortiums are in a constant state of cold war that sometimes heats up, some are close allies. The leader of Lazar World Business out of Budapest is Gabriel’s best friend and Esme’s God-Father. Ask why she didn’t go to Cosmin Lazar for help!”

While I was pondering Evan’s latest question the subject of all our debate walked into the bathroom wearing nothing but last night’s heels, one of my button-downs, and an unrepentant expression. She didn't even pretend she had not been eavesdropping. “The take down of Morrot International by the Karras Consortium would have been impossible without inside information” she stated into my speakerphone clearly. “The reason I did not go to anyone besides the CIA is because, though it pains me to think it, all of those closest to me are under suspicion.” 

There was a shuffling that sounded like Hutton scooting away and then Director  Morgan started speaking in her most authoritative voice “Miss Morrot, I am sorry for your loss...”

Esme laughed, “Juliana Morgan whose age is 54, born in Augusta, Maine to a Lt. Colonel  Father, and” Esme sighed gustily “I wont even begin to guess how many kills you have authorized.” Esme smirked at the stunned silence that followed, “We have our own spys Juliana. I know you do not trust me and you would loose no sleep over my early demise. Though those feelings are entirely mutual, tragically we need each other. What with my knowledge of the consortiums and your resources... but please don’t insult my intelligence with your false sympathies and save me your bureaucratic bullshit. Do we have an arrangement?” There was a very strained affirmative from Director Morgan. Esme responded in a very sweet voice with, “Good! Then arrange travel for us, and let poor Daniel off the phone. He has been barricaded in this bathroom for the past hour.” She then swept out of the bathroom like a sovereign who had just addressed the lowly peasantry. After that I couldn't really continue talking to Director Morgan with even the illusion of privacy so I got the usual come home alive sentiments; then I got the dial tone.

*****

We were over an hour late for our retrofitted C-130.  When I realized Esme had no other clothes than the little purple number she wore last night I marched her straight to the hotel’s store and bought her several outfits. She thanked me but I was just grateful I didn't have to watch her walk around in that dress anymore. We got onto the plane and she asked to borrow my MP3 player. For several minutes all I heard was the tiny voice of Dean Martin as she stared out the window before she hit pause.

“Most men would have dressed me in something a little more provocative if they were footing the bill.” She turned to me indicating her slacks and sweater.

“I’m not most men” I muttered.

Esme studied me with a searing intensity “clearly.”

“And I have a very fine sense of self preservation” I said dead-pan. 

Esme looked at me for a beat then burst out laughing. After a short while she said “thank you Daniel.”

“For what?”

“That is the first time I have truly laughed since my father died. Your actually a good man; that’s rare. Last night and this morning told me that about you.” 

Then it hit me, “You've never had sex before!”

She looked at me with a small smile, “I am a young woman and trying to gain respect in the consortiums; a world run by men. I am a business woman, however had I slept around I wold have been seen as a... hmmm a working girl. It is very easy for a female to go from business woman to working girl, but in the eyes of men she can never go back. It is an old fashioned state of mind but it is sadly the way many see the world. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes, that certainly does.” Then to keep the awkward silence at bay I asked, “So tell me about this club we are going to tonight.”

“Club Erebus is where we will find the youngest son of Hadrian Karras. His name is Athan. Of course we will have to buy new outfits.” She said with a smirk.

“What? Why?”

“It is an S&M club. Don’t worry Daniel, I’m sure you will look fantastic in leather.” Then she put back on her earphones and effectively ended the conversation .

*****

From the outside Club Erebus looked like any other club that caters to the wealthy and privileged but on the inside it was all leather, lace, and a chandelier made out of manacles. Esme looked and played the part in a one-piece leather suit that laced up the sides and made me want to be bad just in case there was some sort of punitive remuneration to follow. My part just felt uncomfortable in my bondage pants, (which were lower than pants had any right to be) and leather vest. We stood by the bar and she ordered an Ouzo on ice. She leaned against me and said just loud enough to be heard. 

“Athan Kerras is to the left on the raised platform. It is the VIP section; he is the one in the dark blue leather pants with the matching studded collar.”  

“He has a lot of muscle around him” I nodded at the four visible guards.

“But we have a secret weapon Daniel” she turned around to face me “He likes men and you are by far the most attractive man here tonight. I doubt he will want an audience but if he does he wont take all of his guards. Suggest visiting one of the back rooms and I’ll be there waiting for you.” She saw the look on my face and said, “Don't worry Daniel, I guarantee your virtue will be intact when we leave tonight.” Then still grinning she turned back around and stopped so quickly she nearly fell.

“Victor is here” she looked panicked. “He’s going to get himself killed.”

“Why would your cousin be here?” 

“I don’t know.” She pulled me into the corridor that led into the bathroom, “Stay here I’ll be right back.”

I waited impatiently but she was back in about two minutes with a tall leather-clad blond on her arm. She pulled him into the corridor and hugged him clutching him close as though he were precious then she stepped back and slapped him across the face. He let out a Russian curse.

“Victor, what in the name of god were you thinking coming here. Karras will kill you. You are so stupid I should kill you.” Esme took a deep calming breath. “I thought you were dead.          You know our protocols you could have contacted me.”

“The last time I saw you were being dragged to a van by armed men. I thought you were dead. I thought everyone was dead. I figured I should send a few of them to the grave before I die too! After all, Uncle Gabriel took me in when I had nothing.” He said in a heavy accent.

Esme looked at him with a pained expression, “I don’t want you to die Victor. I have lost enough.” Esme hugged him again. Something seemed off about Victor’s smile as he held Esme. I rarely like anyone but I especially realized my dislike of Esme’s cousin as she explained who I was and what I was doing there. When we emerged from the corridor Athan Karras was gone and the VIP section was empty. 

“Hurry” Victor shouted over the thumping bass “Athan leaves every night without his bodyguards, just with whatever pretty boy he finds through the back ally. I have been watching him for three days.” At a dead run we crashed out of the side door and into the ally; it was a dead end.

“Uh Vic” I said facing the wall. Esme tapped my shoulder and I whirled to face the guns of Athan’s bodyguards and Victor standing behind them. The last thing I saw before the tranquilizer dart hit me was Esme’s heartbroken face.

*****

     I woke up handcuffed to a chair next to Esme. I was cold and, like her, I was dressed only in my underclothes. She was already awake and staring wide-eyed at the man in front of us. I took in my surroundings. The sights, sounds, and smells informed me that we were in some sort of dock warehouse,  but then I looked at  Esme all her attention was for the man before us. He was fiddling with something on a cart but I couldn't see what it was. He turned from his task and walked to Esme, completely ignoring me.

“Do you know who I am?” asked the man who I assumed would be our interrogator. He looked typically middle-aged Mediterranean, but he had no discernible accent.

“Petros Karras” Esme said staring straight forward, “Hadrian’s favorite torturer.”  

Petros smiled as he walked around Esme. He apprised her in a way that was entirely non-sexual. “Then you know what I could do to you. I could rip away all that beauty you seem  to value and make you look...”

“Like you” Esme smirked. You had to hand it to the girl; clearly terrified she could still quip.

Petros grabbed her face and stared at her, “Breaking you will be very memorable.” I tried not to get angry but by the time he let go of her face I had decided how I was going to kill him. “And you my CIA friend, well you have seen too much so you must die. Torturing you is just a bonus.”

He walked back to the cart and, laughing, began to roll it closer. As the cart drew nearer I realized that there was a small portable generator on it and that one of us must be in for some sort of Electro Convulsive Torture. I was just starting to debate who would be on the receiving end when they threw a bucket of water over Esme and shoved a rubber stopper in her mouth. I watched helplessly as they hooked up the electrodes to a soaking sponge. Even though  I am trained for such things, the sound of a friend being tortured still sears the soul. I couldn't keep her muffled screams from penetrating me. After several rounds they took a break for the electricity to stop bouncing around her cells so her heart wouldn't fail and went out for a smoke. 

Victor walked over to kneel down next to her. “So strong” he whispered “But still not worthy to lead Morrot International.”

“So that is why you did it” I said staring at Esme’s  limp form. “Gabriel Morrot loved you as his own and trusted you with everything, which is why it was so easy to betray him, but he still wanted Esme to succeed him.” I really looked at this man “You betrayed everyone who loves you for greed and petty jealousy.”

“No” he shouted “I am older and a man, she could have never been more than me.”

“You’re not a man” I spat “You’re pathetic.” He struck me but I barely felt the blow and as he cocked back to hit me again Petros caught his hand. 

“No Victor. Behave or I’ll have to remove you.” Then Petros motioned for a table to be brought in. It was the sort you can strap a body down to. As they began to uncuff her I fought, but only succeeded in rubbing my wrists raw.  They held her hands and were uncuffing her feet when her motionless body roared into action. She kicked away one guard and grabbed his gun and before he could react she shot him in the head. The guard who had by now dropped her on the floor was killed next from her position below. The third was shot twice in the chest as he was leaving his sitting position in the corner and going for his gun.  It all happened so quickly. She then trained the gun on Victor and Petros.

“Release him” she demanded of Petros in a surprisingly steady voice. Petros rushed to obey. When I was freed I grabbed a fallen guard’s gun and directed Petros the chair I had recently occupied. Esme guided Victor to hers. When we both had secured our prisoners we stepped back and when I realized  she had a next step in her plan I let her take point. 

“So” she said, “Where is Francis?” All she got from Victor was Russian  swearing. Calmly Esme shot Victor in both kneecaps. His screams were shrill but her voice carried above them. “Again, where is Francis?” This time she pointed the gun at Petros.

“Krokos” he shouted “In Northern Greece. Several hours by car. You are on the coast of Thessaly. I’ll give you the address.”

Esme studied  him after hearing his directions to make sure he wasn’t lying. Then she shot him in the head without blinking. She turned the gun toward Victor who had gone quiet by now.

“Wait” he pleaded “I did wrong but remember our childhood together. We are family.”

“That won’t spare you” she said as though shocked by his request for mercy.

“Why? Why did God put you on this planet to plague me?” 

Esme paused thoughtfully, “When Ghenghis Khan Sacked Yanjing in 1215, a Jin commander asked why? ‘Why did you slaughter so many thousand?’ Ghenghis Khan replied ‘I am the punishment of God... If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.’” Then without pity or hesitation she sighted down the barrel of her gun and put a bullet between his eyes. She spun and walked from the warehouse, only stopping to grab her clothes out of the corner.

*****

   We found a hotel room with a balcony overlooking the Aegean. Esme had gotten cleaned up first and after my shower I found her standing staring at the opaque sea in the suite’s cotton robe. I did not even think she knew I was there until she started talking. 

“It is almost sunrise. In a few hours we will leave for Krokos so we can get there by sunset.” Then she tried to turn and walk past me without another word. 

I stopped her, “Don’t punish yourself over Victor’s betrayal and your killing him. People who are sensible about love are incapable of it.”

She smiled, “Douglas Yates.”

I was surprised she knew my favorite author and even more surprised when she kissed me; gently at first then redefined quickly into a bruising pressure as though she were desperate for any connection. I only paused when I felt my towel fall.

“Wait” I said.

“I don’t want to wait Daniel, I just want you.” 

Then before I could think further she opened her robe and let it fall to the floor leaving my ability for rational thought in its wake. I carried her to the bed and laid her down on the end. I kissed every inch of her body before I was ready to lay down with her. I watched as she writhed underneath my hands and reveled in her sharp intakes of breath and small moans. When I finally placed myself on top of her I wanted to sigh with how good it felt. She ignited at my touch like napalm and I spent the next few hours testing how hot I could get the fire between us to burn.  

*****

When I woke up I expected to find Esme sleeping beside me but she was already dressed and getting herself fully armed. I pulled the sheet around my waist and under the pretext of checking on her went to give her a kiss. 

She sheathed her CRKT Ultima knife and stopped me, “Now we must concentrate on Francis. We will discuss what has occurred later.”

I understood and tried to get back to being professional but it took all my compartmentalizing training just to do it.  So, in silence, we prepared for our assault on where they were holding Francis. 

Our destination turned out to be a little, well I’d call it a ranch, outside of Krokos.  There were only two guards that I could see but I guess they did not feel  they needed the “big guns” for an eight-year-old. We snuck up on the little home out in the middle of no where and while I cut the throat of my guard Esme silently incapacitated the other in a similar fashion. I cautiously entered the home and promptly had a paperback thrown at my head. A child that looked like the little boy version of the Morrot gene pool was glaring at me defiantly from the furthest corner. 

“Francis” I attempted holding my hands in front of me in what I hoped was a non-threatening manor.  

“Allez au diable” was my reply. 

Before I could respond a far more imposing voice said, “Francis Matteo Morrot. Shame on you! Who taught you such language?” With a happy yell little Francis launched himself past me and into the arms of Esme.  After a few chocked sobs and a lot of rapid French, I was able to coax the overjoyed siblings into the car. After only fifteen minutes in the car Francis was fast asleep in the back and Esme and I were driving under a full moon with only tiny snores to break the silence. 

“Thank you Daniel” she said to me, her cheeks wet with silent tears, “I owe you more than  I can ever repay.”

“Then I guess your lucky I am too cynical to believe in balanced reciprocity; I’ll never ask.” I smiled a small smile at her. We finished the drive to Thessaloniki in a comfortable silence still punctuated by tiny staccato snores. 

We got a hotel room in the form of a villa in Thessaloniki and  promptly fell asleep. All of us were exhausted, but I ceded the bed to Esme and Francis and took the couch. I fell asleep staring at Esme’s sweet face completely unaware that my wake up call would be far less pleasant.

*****

The door crashed open and light streamed through the hole into our sanctuary. Before I could even grab a weapon, Rough hands yanked me from the couch and pushed me to the middle of the floor and onto my knees.  A few seconds later Esme joined me on the floor still clutching Francis to her. I realized what was going on before the men I recognized as Hadrian Karras and his two sons, Elias and Athan, entered the villa but I was still hoping it was all a bad dream. Hadrian Karras entered the room like a man who knows he has won.  

Esme took one hand off Francis who was quietly crying and put her hand on top of mine.   There was no pressure but I know a goodbye and an apology when I feel one. There was  a lot I wanted to say to her before we died. I am sorry we didn't make it. I Think had we had more time together, I could have loved you. I don’t regret meeting you. I knew I couldn’t say these things so I hoped my eyes said them for me when I looked at her. Then I  shut my eyes and prepared myself for the bullets Hadrian Karras motioned for his men to give us.

There were noises, and gunshots, and a gasp from Esme but I never felt the pain of lead tearing into my flesh.  When I opened my eyes there were bodies all around us and Esme was being yanked into the embrace of an Israeli man. There was some supersonic paced Hebrew between the two of them and I realized that this had to be Omri Magal, her bodyguard. We were saved. There were men casing the rest of the place and speaking  in Romanian. Another realization hit me then, this had to be the Lazar Consortium coming to save Esme, in which case she was saved and I was just as dead.  I sat down on the couch as Cosmin Lazar walked in. Esme looked at him for a beat and then ran into his open arms.

“Forgive me for suspecting you Tatal.” She rushed out 

“I know of nothing to forgive.” Cosmin Lazar said in a quiet voice that carried only warmth, “I only know of my love for you and my need for someone to succeed me in        Lazar World Business. Come back to Bucharest with me. Come be the daughter I have always seen in you.” Esme looked down with tears in her eyes then once again faced Lazar, but this time with a smile and a nod of consent. “Good” Lazar was smiling too now. He took Esme and began to lead her out the door with Magal and Francis behind them. “Kill the CIA agent”  Cosmin Lazar said over his shoulder. 

Esme spun around, “Wait” she then leaned in to whisper in Lazar’s ear. He didn’t look happy but he nodded. She took the gun Omri handed her and walked toward me. She stopped right in front of me and said “Merci Daniel” then she struck me with the butt of the gun and I saw black.

*****

When I came around the sun was in a different position in the sky and I had a killer headache. I was nonetheless grateful to her for saving me. I knew there was nothing more I could do than go back home and report the mission both a success and a failure. We did stop Karras, but in the end one Consortium did gain supremacy. With the death of Karras now Lazar could reign supreme with Esme on the throne. I packed and started to call for transport back to Washington, but mostly I prepared for home. Mostly I prepared for a life without Esme Morrot.