Chapter 31
Chapter 31
A cheap hotel room, a miserable night, and the first poor cup of coffee I’ve had in this São Paulo:
A face stares out at me from the morning newspaper: a smiling boy, perhaps a school photograph, posted under a grim headline
Casualties are mounting in the aftermath of the explosion…
My eyes follow the text, but as I reach the end of the column, I realise I don’t know what it said…
Rodrigo… The hotel boy who served my breakfast each morning. So helpful to the nice cavalheiro inglês who sometimes tipped him, as much for the smile as for good service. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen.
And now dead because some vengeful little bitch missed her target.
I had to grow up quick at that age…
He never will…
Did she miss her target?
Or was it all part of some plan to implicate me?
Lawrence Klempner… Trafficker, murderer, and guilty of a thousand sins, now wanted for terrorism…
?
Who knows? I’m getting beyond guessing how much mayhem Juliana is willing to unleash in her crusade against me.
How did she find me?
She knows I’m here…
She knew where I was…
So… why take so long about showing her hand?
How did she find me?
And when?
As I entered the country?
Three weeks ago…
But our Juliana likes her games…
Gives her a sense of power perhaps…
Still playing cat and mouse?
A customs officer maybe? Who recognised me at the airport?
It’s possible.
Not likely though. If my face had flagged up any warning signals, ‘the system’ would have taken me in, not some random official.
Or perhaps they did simply spot me at Antonio’s? Or trace me back to the bar after I took out their heavy. And he knew who I was when he met me.
Maybe they all do.
If she put the word out on me…
That seems more likely.
And I made a habit of going to the restaurant… hoping to spot my quarry… Instead, they spotted me. She knew I’d turn up at some point, so of course, her thugs would know what I look like.
That all makes much more sense…
I think…
Somewhere under the surface, I’m picking at the scab…
Does it add up?
Really?
What’s missing?
Where does she fit into a gang of that sort?
Brazil…
‘Traditional’ values…
Not the kind of place you’d expect to find a woman heading a crime syndicate…
For that matter, how often do you ever find women in that kind of position?
On the other hand… the ‘Power Behind The Throne’? Find the man at the top and get control of him. That would tie in with what she’s done before; her preferred methods.
Femme fatale…
Wonder who he is?
Poor bastard…
That’s his life-expectancy down the chute…
But in the meantime, if they all know who I am… If Juliana has them all reeled in on her quest for vengeance…
Draining my cup, I run a mental replay of my visit to Juliana’s apartment. The coffee’s dreadful stuff, but at least the caffeine hit does its work. My mind is clearing.
How many were there?
A dozen certainly. And an uncertain number not present.
I set the newspaper to one side. But smiling, accusing eyes still stare out at me. After a moment, I turn the paper over, photo underneath.
What now?
Fade into the background?
Disappear?
How?
New ID. Contact Dakho and get him to fit me out with the paperwork.
Change that fucking phone too…
Right now, I’m ‘English’. What else might work here?
In the bathroom, I regard my reflection; Fair-haired; Grey-eyed.
Not easy to make myself look convincingly local…
No point then…
The alternative: Act fast. Do the job. Get out.
That feels a better option. I know where to find Juliana.
Deal with her and go.
Back home.
Back to Mitch…
…
…
At least a dozen of them…
…
How to do it?
Take on the complete gang?
That’s a lot of opponents… And I’m not armed for it…
If I was in home territory anywhere, it wouldn’t be a problem. I have plenty of equipment stashed where I can easily get at it… But not here, in Brazil. I’m the new kid on the block here and I don’t have access to my usual facilities.
So… taking on the lot of them… not impossible, but very risky. And I don’t have a suicidal bone in my body.
Pick them off one at a time?
Peel off her defences until she’s left alone.
Easy for the first one or two. Not so easy after that. People get itchy when they see their associates dropping around them.
The alternative… Go directly to the source of the problem. Decapitate the organisation.
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