The only way to prevent that horror show was to become a real person—be reborn as someone with a clean slate. Someone with no relatives, no legal baggage.
Abe's idea had been brilliant: Assume the identity of someone overseas, a dead someone who wasn't listed as such. A nobody with no family to come looking for him.
Where would one find such a man?
"What did he say? Did he find someone?"
Abe nodded as he slipped behind the counter and fished out a yellow legal pad.
"You're going to be Mirko Abdic."
"Who is?"
"Was. He was a Christian Croatian gofer used by an associate in Bosnia during the war—a street kid he took under his wing. Used him to deliver messages when the communications broke down—a frequent occurrence according to him. Young Mirko was captured and tortured and killed by some Muslim Serb militia. My associate tracked them down and learned his fate. Since no one was asking or even cared, he neglected to report Mirko's death."
"But was his birth recorded? You never know in these Third World countries."
"Recorded. My associate checked."
"Criminal record?"
Abe shook his head. "Never arrested. If he'd lived longer, I'm sure he'd have had a long one. And since he was born and baptized a Christian, he won't be scrutinized like a Muslim."
Jack thought about that. A few minutes ago the plan had been an abstrac-tion, a possibility. Now that it was a reality, Jack wasn't sure how he felt. Relief that a solution had been found, but tinged with a certain inescapable dismay.
"This I know you know," Abe said, studying him, "but you have many changes ahead of you."
"Tell me about it. Everything is going to change."
"Not everything. You'll still be Jack, just with a different name."
"I might still be Jack, but I can't be Repairman Jack."
"And that will be a terrible shame."
Jack shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it's time to hang it up and start a new chapter."
"You're mixing metaphors already."
"Yeah, well, it's simply too dangerous to stay in the fix-it trade."
Not just to him, but to the family he was about to have.
He'd always tried to work his fix-its at arm's length, keeping his head down, never allowing himself to be seen. In the ideal fix, the target never even knew he'd been fixed. Just chalked it up to a run of bad luck and cursed the fates instead of Jack.
But every so often, no matter how carefully he planned, something went wrong. Like that old saying: Want to make God laugh? Tell him your plans.
Sometimes he was seen, which meant someone knew his face—or thought he did. Jack used various disguise techniques—wigs, mustaches; something as simple as cotton pledgets stuffed between the gums and the cheeks gave a face an entirely different look—but he always ran the risk that someone looking for him would wind up on the same block. If the old target spotted him and followed him home…
"You're maybe thinking about Cirlot?"
Jack nodded. He'd fixed Ed Cirlot but it had been one of those cases where he'd had no choice but to show his face. Because of Jack, Cirlot wound up in jail. When he got out he'd come looking.
"He gave me a bad time. But I was living alone in my apartment. No one in danger but me. What if he'd followed me to Gia's?"
"Let's not think about that. The fact that it's happened only once is testament to the care you take."
"Once is too many. That's why I can't risk making new enemies. Repairman Jack is dead, long live… what's his name again?"
"Your name." Abe glanced at his yellow pad. "Mirko Abdic." He made a face. "Oy, such a name. You're going to have to change it as soon as you can."
"Right. Along with my spots."
His whole life… upside down. Becoming a citizen, joining the herd and allowing the politicos to fleece him along with the rest of the sheeple… the prospect made him ill.
But it had to be done. The baby hadn't been Jack's idea, and it hadn't been Gia's, but the little guy—it had to be a he—was on his way and Jack wasn't going to let anyone get between him and his child.
He sighed. "Okay. How's this going to work?"
"Details still have to be fine-tuned, but plans are in the works to smuggle you into Sarajevo toward the end of the month. A nonstop trip? No. Circuitous at best. But once you're there you'll assume the identity of Mirko Abdic. A temporary visa has been applied for—"
"Legal?"
"Of course. Isn't legit the whole idea? To be legit you must have a legit visa. After you get here you can marry Gia in time to be the baby's legal father. Then you apply for a green card. Later you can apply for citizenship and the circle will be complete."
"It's a thing of beauty, Abe."
"Your admiration and veneration I accept. But it's not over yet. Still some kinks to be ironed out. The biggest will be language. You'll have to pass through whatever outward-bound security they have over there without speaking a word of the language."
Jack didn't like that.
"Couldn't you have brought me in as a Brit or an Aussie? I could fake 'rine in Spine' and 'shrimp on the barbie.'"
"Their record-keeping is too good. We needed a country with a recent period of anarchy and chaos to provide an inventory of unreported deaths. This is the best way. The language problem will be worked out."
Jack believed that. He had implicit trust that Abe would not send him off until he was satisfied that every detail had been nailed down.
So why did he feel so queasy?
3
Gia sat in the Sutton Square house kitchen and stared at Jack. She'd held back her tears as long as she could, but finally they began to flow.
"It's true? It's really going to happen?"
Jack nodded. "Seems that way. Still some details to be ironed out, but we should be able to tie the knot early February."
They sat across the table in the old-fashioned kitchen. Even though she and Vicky had been living here for almost a year and a half, Gia refrained from calling it her kitchen. Legally, the tony townhouse still belonged to Vicky's aunts, but Nellie and Grace were never coming back. In a few years it would be Vicky's, but until then…
She looked down at her cooling cup of tea as she felt a sob building. She'd been on an emotional roller coaster since the start of her third trimester—up, down, happy, sad, energetic, exhausted in rapid succession, occasionally all at the same time. And that growing sob… she bit it back but it broke free.
Jack reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
"What's wrong, Gi? I thought you—"
"Nothing's wrong. Absolutely nothing. Except that I've turned your whole life upside down."
"No, you—"
"Go ahead. You can say it. If I hadn't been careless with my pills that one month, you wouldn't have to go to all this trouble. You'd still be doing your fix-its and leading your life the same way as before."
She'd never been guilt-prone, but now she was drowning in it. Jack had said he was going to find a way to change his life for the baby. And though he always kept his word, the idea had remained an abstraction until this morning.
"Oh," he said. "And I had nothing to do with the baby, I suppose?"
"Well, sure you did, but—"
"No buts. The past is past, the baby is now. He wasn't planned—"