Greece France and Back Again

Chapter 1: Greece in June

         She was going to have him killed. He passed a beautiful island longingly where normal people swam in the crystal blue-green ocean or played in the white sand with their children. Instead of being there with his own broken family, painfully piecing together what semblance of family togetherness his parenting plan and bitterness his ex-wife allowed him, he was going to an equally gorgeous and even more remote Greek island to talk a woman into working with him again. He was going to outright beg her if he had to.


         It wasn’t just any woman either. She was the most brilliant partner he had ever worked with in the twenty-seven years he had been with the CIA; an information specialist, genius with a computer and a surprising mastermind interrogating even the most stubborn criminal. She was loyal to a fault, not minding one iota when he had been promoted over her, simply carrying on as usual, doing her job as well or better than she had before. Which made it so hard for him when he had received orders from on high that he had to ask for her badge and gun and offer her a severance package in return for her years of very loyal service.


         The island she became a professional recluse on came close to view. His new partner, young and full of vigor, steered the motor boat with the ease of a man who had spent years in and out of the water. Having a former Navy SEAL as a partner did little to ease the nerves Sam felt in his stomach the closer they got to Louisa Lorraine’s dock. “Lou” he used to call her affectionately, never once thinking he stood as close to the business end of a shotgun as he did at this moment. What was worse, he knew he deserved it.


         His younger partner tied the motor boat to the dock efficiently and they put their weapons at the ready, though not in an overtly threatening way. Sam thought a moment. “I’ll go up alone.”


         “You sure, boss? I don’t mind.”


         Sam sighed. “We need her badly. I’m the one she’s pissed at, not you. Besides, someone has to haul my worthless dead body back.” He clapped his hand on his partner’s shoulder, turned on his heel resolutely and strode up the gentle slope to stand in the middle of Lou’s front yard with a confidence he did not feel.


         Geese honked and two peacocks flew out of the olive grove to his right, screaming an intruder in the midst of what was a fairly peaceful stone cottage with roses climbing cheerfully up the sides and olive trees draping elegantly over its thatched roof. Sam caught the glint of a rifle and knew that their entire approach had been noted through the barrel of a sniper’s scope. He’d forgotten for a moment that Lou had gone through a phase where she went through sniper school, graduated top of her class. Unusual for a female. She had been like a woman possessed at the time. He didn’t know if she had ever used this skill, but he didn’t want this to be the time he found out either.


         “Lou? I am looking for Louisa Lorraine, if she is there. I am coming on peaceful terms.” Sam found it hard to shout over the racket the birds were making. He kept a wary eye on the peacocks.


         A tall woman with kinky red hair that never did what she wanted it to do came to the front door. She leaned on the door jam, lit a cigarette, put the lighter in her baggy linen pants. Without a smile, she picked up a long stick and batted it at the birds from the porch. After some convincing, they grudgingly allowed themselves to be herded into the back yard. She never took her eye off the men in her front yard.


         Uncomfortable with the silence Sam said, “I’m glad to find you well.”


         Lou put the long stick back in its place, returned to her post against the door jam and smoked her cigarette. She said nothing, knowing that Sam hated silence more than anything in the world.


         Sam coughed. “Well,” he barely refrained from staring at his boots and kicking an errant stone as if he were a school-boy, “I came to talk to you.”


         She shrugged. “Talk.”


         “Uh. Yes. Well you see…” Sam took a deep breath. Ran his fingers through his hair and took his sunglasses off, banging them lightly against his thigh. From down below in the boat, his young partner was smiling slightly, arms folded. He had seen his boss take down hardened Al Queda leaders without breaking a sweat, but this tall, lean red-headed woman had him hot and bothered in a matter of seconds without saying more than two words.


         Sam breathed out forcefully. “Lou I need you back.” He ignored her eyes, knowing if she had her rifle to hand it would be trained on him. “You were right, and the orders I was given to let you go were wrong. It’s as simple as that. You wanted Donovon; you were right, you should have taken care of him when he was just a pup and the higher ups were dead wrong. Dead wrong. The man’s a menace.”


         “I told you that.” She crushed her cigarette out carefully, her white skin red with anger and impatience. “I told you all that years ago. Anyone he killed, its on your hands.”


Sam tamped down his own temper and remembered his mission. “Not mine. It wasn’t my idea to let you go.”


         Lou looked at him with glacial blue eyes full of anger and betrayal. “I gave you everything. I never minded when you were promoted instead of me, just because you were a man and I was more qualified, and we both knew it. I never minded when you were given more choice positions or assignments or the lead on cases instead of me. I gave you my loyalty. The least you could have done was had my back.”


         “I did have your back Lou. I did. You got a severance and retirement and respect because of me. They weren’t going to give you that.”


         “Thanks for nothing. I am the walking dead then, because of you.”


         Sam was human. But he was also an agent and he had a mission. He took a deep breath. “Look, I have to come here and ask first for your pardon, because secondly, we need your help. No don’t talk, just listen.”


         She folded her harms and stared away from him.


         “You are right, there are men and women dead because of him. It gets worse every time. Mostly though, he is a banker for terrorists, he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty much. Unless it is really high profile. This is high profile.”


         He showed her a picture of a well dressed young couple, smiling and waving at the camera. “This is the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster. They are newly married, they are close to the Royal family, they are hoping to start a family soon. The President and the Duke are going to be on a golf tournament in Scotland in a few weeks; we have good intel that Donovan is going to hit them both at the same time. Cripple the US and hit the UK hard at the same time. We need your help to stop it.”


         Lou brought her hands down with such force that Sam nearly went for his weapon and the man in the boat had his long rifle trained on her. She stared at the man in the boat and deliberately gave him the finger then stared at Sam and snapped “If I wanted to shoot you both I would have when you were tying off at my dock. Don’t be stupid, Sam. I’m not going to help you either. You just want someone to clean up your mess. And when it all goes wrong, guess what. You have someone to blame, the retired recluse who was rusty; all in one neat package. No, Sam. Not even close. Find some other patsy. Get out of here and stay gone.”


         “There’s more.”


         “There is no more. I said get.”


         He held up a photo. It was the only leverage he had. “Donovan has a woman; he is going to kidnap her and start a family with her. We have extremely good intelligence about that. An inside man and emails confirm it. This is the girl. Surely you could help us keep her safe.”


         Lou looked at the picture despite herself. Then looked again and snatched it out of Sam’s fingers. “You son-of-a…how did you get this. How did you know?”


         He thought about being cute, but they were both well past that. “The necklace. It is so unique. You never take yours off. I’ve never seen one like it.”


         Lou put her hand protectively over the intricate heart-locket with a fleur-d-lies inscribed on it and a flame under the fleur-d-lies.


         “Do you know her? Is she your family?”


         Lou stared at the photo. “It doesn’t matter.” Several long seconds ticked by broken only by a soft wind brushing past baby olives in the trees and the occasional squawking from the birds in the back. Finally she looked up, tears tracing down her freckled angular cheekbones. “I will help you. Damn you Sam, I will help you. But for my reasons, not for yours.”


         She turned and went into the house, leaving the door open. For the first time, Sam actually breathed openly. He turned and opened his hand in a relaxed way to the man in the boat then turned to follow her into her cottage.


         


         


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