He smiled and said, “She still thinks she has choices. It’s actually quite admirable.”
“Maybe she thinks her rich brother, the senator, will come and rescue her,” Demetri reasoned.
“Did you get through to Petros Caras?” Zendo had allowed his second in command to make the call to their boss while he talked with the woman.
“Still no word. The weather must be blocking the satellite signal.”
They had to assume the plan to pick them up in the morning here in Siracusa was still on, Zendo thought. Yet, after his last meeting with the boss in Messina, he wanted to shove the fact that they had been able to find the woman down the man’s throat. That man had forgotten from where he came. He had been a man of the people at one time just like them. Sure he had worked his way up to his current stature, but many had questioned how he had been able to do that, especially considering the man’s penchant for young men had not landed him in jail. But Petros Caras was a survivor. Despite his desires, the man never pursued those under eighteen.
“Are you all right, Zendo?” Demetri asked.
“Yes. Just thinking about what I’ll do with all the money we’ll make in the next few months.”
“I don’t even understand why Petros Caras needs this American woman.”
Zendo shrugged. “Me either. Sometimes it’s better not to ask.” He looked at the camera and tried to think of someone who could translate Doric Greek. Well, that could also wait. He would let Petros Caras find someone. Besides, he had a feeling that dick-loving billionaire would want to keep anything they found for himself.
The yacht was really rocking and rolling now as Toni tried her best to keep her equilibrium together as she lay on her bed. She wasn’t a great ocean passenger, especially on small craft. Although she had never taken a cruise, after this adventure she probably never would. At least the Tylenol with Codeine was working. Her right ankle still felt hot and swollen, like a tick on a Mississippi hound dog in July ready to explode from sucking too much blood.
She had fallen asleep and missed talking with Petros Caras, but now she was ready and he was probably nearly drunk enough to listen to her. At least that’s the briefing she’d gotten about the man — fill him with alcohol and then he would be pliable enough.
Toni was pissed off that she had lost her satellite phone. She really needed to check in. Glancing across the cabin she saw a pair of crutches leaning against the wall by the door. Her medic had been by while she slept. She twisted her body to the side of the bed and hopped with her left foot across the pitching deck until she got hold of the crutches. She had only used them one time in the past when she blew her knee while skiing the Alps.
Making her way out into the passageway, she worked her way toward the boisterous sounds of people ahead. Sounded like they were all a little drunk. When she rounded into the main lounge and bar area, she recognized the two men who had helped her get to her room, the medic, and Petros Caras. Sitting next to him was a lithe and elegant woman with striking Slavic features. She looked somewhat familiar to Toni. Also in the lounge was a bartender and another young man who seemed to be having a difficult time ferrying the drinks from the bar to those well on their way to inebriation.
“Ah, you got some rest,” Petros Caras said in English. “Please take a seat.” He tapped the leg of the medic sitting next to him and the man moved across the lounge to a leather bench seat.
Toni hobbled over and sat next to the Greek.
Petros Caras introduced those in the room, with the exception of the bartender and waiter. The woman he simply called Svetla. So Toni had been right. The woman was either Russian, Ukrainian or Czech. Then he said something in Greek to those around him and all but the woman, the waiter and the bartender left them alone.
“Would you like something to drink?” Petros Caras asked Toni.
She thought about the Codeine in her system and wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “Just a Seven Up or similar,” she said.
“I understand,” he said. “The ocean can take some time to get used to.”
“That’s part of it,” Toni said. “But your medic also gave me enough Codeine to kill a horse.”
“Right, right.”
Glancing at the Slavic woman and then back to the Greek, Toni said, “We need to talk.”
The woman took the hint and got up to leave.
“I’ll be along in a while,” the Greek said to her.
Not looking particularly happy about that prospect, the woman lifted her chin and left them, her gate like that of a runway model.
“Pretty girl,” Toni said.
“Yes, she is. You’ve got to love the Czech features.”
“What about these two?” Toni said, her eyes on the bartender and the waiter.
“Don’t worry about them. They only speak Greek. Stick to English and we’ll be fine.”
“Well, I can perhaps order a beer in Greek, so we have no other choice.” Toni thought about how brusque she wanted to come across. She knew that if you beat a horse it would eventually do as you ask, but it would never like you much. Or trust you. Maybe she would give this man some rope and see if he went with the flow or tried to hang himself.
“Tell me, Toni,” Petros Caras said, “what is so important that the Agency sends me such a high figure?”
She didn’t believe for a second that he knew anything about her or her current position. “We’ve got some strange intel that has traced back to you.”
“Oh?” He sucked down the last of his white wine and exchanged his glass with another handed to him.
“Most of the arms shipments have been coordinated,” she said, “but some have not. We are most concerned about your recent activities in Athens with the protesters. Not to mention in North Africa and Syria.” There was no reason to get to the most recent issue until the man knew about their general concerns.
“A man of influence must have his hobbies.”
“This goes beyond building ships in a bottle, Petros.” She’d heard he hated being spoken to by only his first name, so she needed to see how he would react. The Greek physically cringed. Good.
“I have nothing to do with the Agency anymore,” he said with defiance.
Toni smiled with this opening. “The Agency decides when the game is over. Do you remember your own history? Your beginning? The Agency made that happen. Just as easily as we made you, we can also take all this away.”
He got to his feet as if ready to fight, his complexion changing from tan to red. “You little government peon. You come onto my yacht and threaten me?”
She leaned back into her chair, not intimidated in the least by this man. “This is not a threat, Petros. I’m telling you straight up in the most simple English so even you can understand it…you need to come in line or find yourself without all the finer things in life.”
He shook his right arm at her, his finger right at her face, “You don’t have the right to tell me this. I am a God among men. I have enough money to buy a thousand women like you. A million. You will get off my yacht and go back to your country and tell your boss that I will do as I like.”
“Sit down,” she said calmly.
“You don’t tell me what to do.” His finger was even closer to her face.
With one swift movement, Toni shoved one of her crutches up into the man’s balls, buckling him to the deck in excruciating pain. When the bartender reached for something behind the bar, Toni found her 9mm auto and pointed it at the man — the international language saying ‘stop now and live.’ Then she swished the gun from the bartender to the waiter and pointed toward the door, meaning get the hell out of there and leave them alone.
Petros Caras started to recover and said, “Why did you do that?”