"Families are the compass that guides us. They are the inspiration to reach great heights, and our comfort when we occasionally falter." —Brad Henry
Blood dripped from my mouth, my ears ringing and my vision momentarily going blurry. I was tied to a chair in the middle of a Venetian storage facility. I had gone to a museum to retrieve Marco Polo's journals, but they had already been taken, so I followed their captors here.
Surrounding me were three military-style thugs, dressed in black body armor and ammo belts. In front of me was a man who I assumed to be their leader. He wore a tight leather jacket over a gray shirt and a pair of jeans. His dirty blond hair was slicked back, exposing his squinty-eyed, proud face.
"So instead of getting your pretty-boy hands dirty, you get one of your goons to hit a girl tied to a chair? Reeeal manly," I scoffed.
"You shut your mouth! You remind me a little too much of another idiot who didn't know when to stop talking. I hope this'll teach you a lesson for sneaking into a place you're not welcome, girl," he said in a smug English accent. "Torch the place," he said as he picked up the box of Marco Polo's journals and sauntered away.
One of the guards started dumping gasoline on the floors and shelves surrounding us, then lit a match and threw it on the ground..
"Sorry guys, I've never been one for Kumbaya, but I'm always up for s'mores," I smirked.
The other guard made a face of annoyance and kicked me backwards, trapping me to the chair. I looked up and saw them running out of the building, which was quickly starting to blaze. When I fell backwards, I felt the rope tying my hands hit a sharp part of the metal floor. I started shaking my arms behind the chair, cutting away at the rope. Across the room, pieces of the wooden ceiling collapsed in - I didn't have much time. I moved my arms even more rigorously until the rope snapped, freeing my hands. I stood up, still dazed from my pummeling, and started to dash out of the building, which started to collapse around me. I grabbed my backpack that had been laid by the door and escaped through the front door the guards had luckily left wide open. Moments after I ran outside, the rest of the ceiling collapsed, sending a whirlwind of ash and debris from the building's every orifice.
I jogged down the street until I reached a waterway. I sat on the bench looking over the water to catch my breath. As I sat down, my phone began to ring. Pulling it from my pocket, I noticed my friend Maddie's face light up the screen.
I answered, "Hello?"
"Hey, I heard you're in Venice. Wanna hang?" she asked.
"Sure, I could use some relaxation. I've been working myself to the bone lately."
"Cool, meet me at the southern docks. Three sound good?" she asked.
"Definitely. See you then!"
The two of us took a mini-vacation as we toured Venice for a couple of days. I figured I deserved a break after nearly burning to death.
We'd made plans to go to breakfast at a nearby diner. Walking inside, we were greeted with a rich nautical-themed dining area.
As soon as we sat down, my satellite phone rang. Nate had given it to me only for emergencies.
I answered the phone, breathlessly asking "Nate, what's going on?"
"Lillian, it's me, Sully. Nate's been jailed for trying to steal some artifact from a museum in Istanbul."
Shocked at this news, I fell silent for a few moments.
"Ya still there, Lil?" Sully queried.
"Y-yeah, I'm here. What are we gonna do?"
"Well, they set his bail pretty damn high, certainly too high for any one of us to pay on our own. We're both gonna have to do a lot of jobs until we've got enough to get him out."
I was annoyed that Nate was careless enough to get himself caught, but at least he's safe.
"Alright, I guess we've got no other choice, huh? Sucks I won't get to go home for awhile," I responded.
"Yeah, I was hoping to get back to the States for some RR, but I've got some contacts here who can get us work. Where are you now?" Sully asked.
"Venice."
"Wow, how in the hell did you get lucky enough to get sent there? Anyway, there's a blue building on the northeast end of main street, you can't miss it. It's owned by Roger Callahan. We go way back, and he owes me a favor. He can get transport set up to get you over here. Hey, I gotta go, my ride just got here. Call me when you're in the city, I'll come pick you up," Sully instructed.
I made my way to Roger's shop. Above the front doors was a sign reading The Sea Rocket. Inside I found a small bar. Past the bar was a larger room containing small canoes, as well as several boating catalogues, which I assumed advertised Roger's wares that wouldn't fit in a small shop.
Walking up to the bar, I was glared at by the bartender.
"Sorry kid, we don't serve minors here," the rough man grunted.
"Actually, I was looking for Roger. Victor Sullivan sent me here, told me he owes him a favor."
A look of worry came over the man's face.
"Oh, uhh, sure, I can go get Roger for ya, just a sec."
He left the bar and entered a door at the back of the shop. A few minutes passed. Finally, he emerged, followed by a short man wearing a yellow tropical button-down shirt. His build and age were similar to Sully's - in fact, he could be Sully's twin, had it not been for the suave hair and missing mustache. That, and he had a large grin on his face.
"Well, hellooo! My name is Roger, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said effeminately, extending his hand out for me to shake. "I hear Sully's finally cashing in on that favor I owe him?"
I shook his hand. "Yeah, he said you could help get me to Istanbul? I'm Lillian, by the way"
His smile broke. "Oh, I… didn't expect him to need something like that," he sulked. "I can still do it, but… damn, that's a long drive. Follow me, I have a place for you to wait while I prepare for the trip."
I followed him to the back room, which was lavishly furnished with carpets and furniture. I sat on the couch closest to the door. Expectedly, it was the most comfortable seat I'd ever encountered.
"I have some emails to send, then we can get going," Roger said.
I waited for about an hour, nodding off for most of it, until Roger slapped his hands on the desk.
"Okay, Lillian! Are you ready for the trip?"
"Well, no, but I guess neither of us have a choice here, huh?"
"Guess not. Here, grab that crate in front of my desk, we've gotta load up the car. It's gonna be a loooong trip."
We carried a few supply crates out of the shop's back door and stuck them in the back of his Jaguar XJ6, which looked like it was made in the mid-80's. After putting the last crate in the trunk, I got in the passenger's seat and waited for Roger. He locked the back door and sauntered over to the car, gingerly closed the trunk, got in the driver's seat, and gently closed the door.
"By the way, be careful with these seats, they're real leather," Roger warned.
"Yep, I'll be gentle! They're quite nice," I responded.
"Thank you; this baby's my pride and joy!" he said excitedly. "Consider it a privilege to be able to ride in it, especially for so long."
He turned the keys and the engine roared to life. We sped off on the long journey to Istanbul.
"So, Roger… how do you and Sully know each other?"
"Oohh, we go way back to our days in the Navy! It was always 'A woman at every shore' with him! I could never do that though; too much work," he said, smirking. "How do you two know each other?"
I hesitated for a moment, nervous at what he might think of me if he knew of my past, but I decided what happened then shouldn't matter now.
"I actually used to be homeless. I was a petty thief, stealing wallets, food, you name it. One day, I stole the wallet of a man named Nathan Drake, Sully's partner. They caught me and had me help them with a job in place of sending me to jail. I live with Nate now; he's actually why I need to be in Istanbul. He got arrested trying to lift an artifact from a museum, and we're gathering money to pay his bail. As for Sully, he… really hasn't changed all that much, from the sound of it. Did he always have that silly mustache?"
"He still has the mustache? Wow, that old man really doesn't change, huh?" Roger said, laughing. "We simply had different ideas on what we wanted out of life after the Navy. He wanted to stick to that same old life of adventuring, never settling down, all that stuff… it's just so much work. I wanted to set my anchor in somewhere beautiful and help others form a love for the sea similar to my own. That's why I opened a boat shop in the world's most boat-centric city. We keep in touch, though. I'm sure he's told you of his search for El Dorado with Nate and Elena?"
"Of course he's told me; he practically bragged about it," I answered.
"I'm not surprised. I'm glad you guys are going out of your way to help Nate. By the way… how did you get those bruises?"
I was distracted by my time with Maddie that I forgot about the yellowing bruises on my arms.
"I, uh… was going for a jog and tripped down a flight of stairs. I'm just lucky I didn't break anything."
"Well, that's awfully clumsy of you. Try to be more careful next time," he said, glancing at me out the corner of his eye. For some reason it felt like he didn't quite believe me.
We drove for several more hours until we reached the border to Turkey. There was a guard station stopping cars. Roger stopped the car and rolled down the windows.
"Don't say a word; these guys don't mess around," Roger warned.
The guard walked over to the car and grunted something in Turkish, flatly holding out his hand. I assumed he was asking for some sort of document. Roger handed him his ID and passport. The guard checked it and handed it back, nodding. He looked at me and pointed, saying something else in Turkish. Roger, smiling, responded to the man, looking like he was explaining something. The guard chuckled and waved us through.
We drove through the checkpoint and continued on our way.
"So what did he say when he pointed at me?"
"He asked who you were and why you're so bruised up. I told him you're my daughter and are too young to have any sort of documentation. You were playing football with your friends and happened to clumsily run into someone," he explained.
"Well, you did a good job at talking your way through that. I envy people with that skill."
He leaned toward me, saying "Believe me, in this part of the world, it's behooving to speak several languages and to be able to talk your way through any kind of situation. It could even keep you alive. Sully tells me Nate is masterful at it."
"Yeah, he is," I responded.
The rest of the trip went smoothly. There were several more spurts of small talk, and Roger pointed out several landmarks he thought I would find interesting.
Entering the city, Roger grabbed his flip phone and started a call.
"Hey Sully, it's Roger! We just entered the city. Are you at the spot?" he asked.
Roger had the phone's volume all the way up, so I could faintly hear Sully's gruff voice on the other end.
"Yeah, I'm here. Just pull in, I'll be waiting for ya."
"Okay, we'll be there soon!" Roger said, snapping his phone closed.
We navigated the crowded, bustling city and arrived at a convenience store. I saw Sully sitting on a bench in the shade being offered by the store's roof, smoking a cigar. Noticing the car, he smirked and waved as he got up to greet us.
Arriving to the parking lot, we got out of the car. Roger and Sully walked up to each other and hugged like two brothers who hadn't seen each other in ages. I couldn't help but smile.
"Hey kiddo, how was the ride over? Did this old geezer bore you with war stories?" Sully teased as he hugged me and gave a pat on the back.
"He was great, Sully. I had a wonderful time," I nodded with a tired smile. "The drive was pretty long, though."
"Yeah, seventeen hours, right? By the way, what happened to your face?" Sully asked.
"I, uh… ran into a pole."
"I thought you said you fell down the stairs?" Roger interjected.
"Oh, didn't I mention the pole at the bottom? Slammed right into it," I responded, hoping they aren't seeing through my lie.
"Did the pole fight back? And are those burn marks on your clothes?"
"I hit the pole and fell against the side of a bonfire pit. I didn't get burnt, though," I lied.
"Sure… Anyway, thanks for everything Roger. I'll take it from here," Sully said to his friend.
"You got it, Sully! By the way, here's my card. I'll be in town for the next few days, so just ring me if you need anything else, 'kay?" Roger handed Sully and I his business card and drove away in his Jaguar.
"God, kid, you are a terrible liar. So what really happened?" Sully queried.
"A job went bad. I was trying to retrieve the journals of Marco Polo and I got caught by some dudes who were going after them too. They tied me up in a warehouse and set it on fire. Luckily they sucked at tying knots, so I was able to untie myself and escape before it collapsed. Please don't tell Nate," I explained.
"Well, seeing as you're still a kid, you still did pretty well. Not every job is a winner. You've just gotta keep your head up and don't stop for anything. I won't tell Nate, don't worry. Speaking of which, let's go pay our jailbird a visit."
