POCKET CHANGE 2: A GAME OF CARDS
by Sharon R.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luka's arms shook as he held the pistol pointed downward in front of him with both hands. One at a time, he carefully took a hand away and wiped the sweat from his palm onto his pants. He clicked off the safety and moved his right index finger closer to the trigger assembly hoping that he could pull the trigger if he had to. His movements were slow and methodical. He couldn't have been more one with the tree than he was as he pushed his spine against the bark and tucked his elbows into his large frame while raising the gun and readying it in front of his chest. As Luka exhaled through his nose he could feel the sweat that had been re-accumulating in his palms cool from his rapid and shaky respirations.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Psalm 23:4 Bible
He could feel the trigger just barely touch the pad of his finger as a small animal scurried past him. With the adrenalin rush waning, he let out a big sigh and leaned his head forward against his hands still clutching the gun. He felt his entire body vibrate starting with his feet and moving up to his head as the fear finally escaped from its imprisonment. A little animal, he chuckled inside. Enabling the safety once again, he let his left arm fall to his side weighted by the gun still tightly gripped by his cramping hand, then reached for the last of his bottled water with his right. It was only then that he felt the dark presence of another person, and a pair of hands wrap around his arm.
It felt as though his arm was on a chopping block, pounded over and over until the pain evolved into a numb tingling sensation that shot from his fingers up to his collarbone and he was forced to drop the gun. Luka was down to one good arm and it did no good when his head was shoved from the back into a tree, the right side of his face taking the brunt of the blow. But he wasn't about to give in. With all of the strength he could muster, Luka spun around and lashed out at whoever it was that was using him as a punching bag. It was a big whoever. Very big. As tall as Luka was, this African man stood a good head taller and a hundred pounds heavier. His vision became blurry from the sweat and blood that dripped into his eyes and as he let his guard down to wipe away at his face, the man grabbed the back of Luka's shirt with one hand, and the hair at the back of his head with the other. Like a helpless kitten in the jaws of its mother, Luka was marched to the house, the man not missing an opportunity to flail him against the side of a tree or two on the way.
The man actually knocked at the door with the toe of his boot as though this were some five star hotel.
"Yes, yes. Come in."
The GPS was right. Luka knew the voice all too well. The door was opened from the inside and Luka was pushed inside still attached to his assailant.
"Yes, Dogo, what is it?" Jules asked annoyingly as he sat at a desk shuffling through a pile of papers with his back to the door.
"Intruder," the overly large guard spoke in broken English.
As Jules turned in his chair to see who was in the doorway, Luka felt nauseas. He wanted to puke right there.
"My, my" Jules marveled peeking over his reading glasses, "look who we have here."
Luka considered Jules' drawn out British accent and compared it to how people of power, or assumed power, tended to color their words as such and string them together as though to savor the bitter effect they had on people. Bob did that, so did Romano - the real Romano. Even Kerry did when she was trying to convince others that she was right.
"We meet again, Dr. Kovac." Taking his glasses off and putting them on top of a book, Jules stood but didn't leave his desk and instead folded his arms and leaned against it. "We so did have a productive discourse at our last meeting, did we not? Hmm?"
His arm hung from his shoulder as dead, numb weight, his head pounded from the slams against the trees and being practically held up by the hair at the moment, and the skin on Luka's face stung as his salt laden sweat dripped into the open cuts put there courtesy of the tree bark. But he still managed to collect enough blood and phlegm in his mouth to hock in Jules' direction, unfortunately falling short. He knew it was coming but the extra body slam he earned straight into the wall of the building still stunned him.
"You'll have to excuse Dogo. He doesn't play well with others." He waited a few moments savoring the scene before him while fiddling his half baked grin with his finger. "You can put him down now, Dogo."
He didn't exactly put Luka down. More like threw him into the floorboards face first, then gave him a swift kick in the side for good measure. Luka curled into himself then raised himself only to his knees as his forehead remained pasted to the floor, the pain radiating throughout his body.
"Oh, well… he's new, and frankly not too bright." Jules squatted down next to Luka, trying to make eye contact with him. "They always take a while to break in. I had to replace my trusted assistant. You see, he was murdered - shot straight through the heart, if you can believe that. Just a defenseless handicapped man. Now who would do such a thing?"
Luka seethed with disgust, refusing to look at Jules, refusing to give his intimidating words any validity. He tried to avert his eyes and not stare, but with Jules it was like a bad train wreck. He couldn't help but look - look into the eyes of pure evil, because surely there would be no other chance to witness it.
"Too bad you arrived so late in the day. I was just getting ready to retire for the evening. But, seeing as though you are my guest, I will personally take it upon myself to protect you from, oh," Jules waved his hand around in front of him, "whatever is out there in the dark scary jungle that could harm you."
Jules stood and spoke quietly to Dogo, a small laugh occasionally escaping his vile mouth. "Not to worry my good doctor, Dogo here will make sure you are safe tonight and for added protection I will post another guard outside to keep the boogey man away."
Luka could hear Jules laugh as he shut the door behind him and talked with others on the outside. The aroma of cigars unfurled through the open window and he thought he even heard a woman's voice. It was only then that he uncurled his body and flattened his back out on the floor, knees up, as he sorted out his aches and pains. Finally getting the nerve to approach the desk, Luka barely got a chance to see what was on the papers before Dogo appeared once again and grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him into a smaller room to the side with only one undersized window covered with patched up screening. The door locked from the outside and Luka was left on his own. No furniture, no matting, nothing.
He propped himself up in the corner angled so he could see the window, the only bit of light coming from the full moon. He was strangely lonely and remembered back to the last time he was being held by Jules, only he had Carter to talk with. They'd learned so much about each other, and now they couldn't be further apart in mind, as well as geography.
Luka stood when he heard the door click open, but was surprised to see a woman in front of him, with a tray of food and drink. She put it on the floor in the middle of the room along with an empty pot Luka assumed was to be used in lieu of a bathroom.
"Speak English?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Do you work for Jules?"
She shyly shook her head.
"Are you his wife?"
Again she shook her head, looking down.
Luka pointed to her large belly. "Is that his baby?"
"I am not to talk to you," she said as she turned to leave.
"Wait." But Luka was too late, the door once again locked.
He didn't want to, but he ate the food. He was starving and figured he wouldn't be any good to Colleen if he was malnourished. Settling back into his corner he drifted off to sleep woken only a couple of hours later by the screeching of Colobus Monkeys as they took advantage of the full moon and shopped for mates high in the trees. Just when he adjusted his head to that racket and closed his eyes again, he was jostled awake by the sound of guns being fired and men laughing. Looking out of the window he saw Dogo pointing his gun high into the trees aiming for the monkeys and remembered the Ugandan Vice President telling him of the illegal fur trade that is dwindling the Colobus Monkey population, along with the clearing of land. Through the night he was continually woken either by the guns or Dogo coming in to kick his foot and make sure he wasn't too comfortable.
WEDNESDAY
Morning light sliced through the boards of the house and into Luka's eyes just as the same woman from the night before came in with another tray of food and water.
"What is your name?" he asked, but she remained silent. "Have you seen a woman around here? A red headed white woman?" Again, no answer and no reaction. "Is Jules keeping you here against your will?"
"She is here of her own free will," Jules voice thundered subtly from behind her, "is that not right, dear?"
The woman cowered her head as Jules put his arm on her shoulder, but nodded anyway. But for the first time she raised her eyes and looked into Luka's almost as if to give him the answer he was looking for. Jules whispered in her ear and again she was gone.
"Please don't let me keep you from your breakfast. There's nothing like good room service."
But Luka just couldn't eat in front of the man, and instead pushed the tray away.
"That's rather rude of you, is it not?"
"Do you know the whereabouts of a female American photographer?"
"He speaks!" Jules turned around with his hands in the air as if speaking to an audience. "I have many an occasion to entertain the media."
"Like you have entertained me?"
"Oh, Dr. Kovac… Luka, you are but a different creature, eh? In fact I consider you to be a close personal friend. After all, we know so much about each other."
"Obviously I know little about you." Luka pointed to the door. "Is that woman receiving proper medical care?"
"That woman is my woman and she is carrying my heir. Of course she gets everything she needs. Now, I must go. I have business to attend to."
"Where is Colleen Reilly?"
"We will have time later on to enjoy each other's company. I have things to do this evening. Perhaps we can have a private late dinner here tonight." He acted as though they were long lost friends. "Just you and me."
"You sent your one armed man to our camp in Uganda. Did you have something to do with the ambush too, where a young kid was shot in the back?"
"Mmm, that was unfortunate. I read about it in the paper. So young."
Again, Jules started to leave but was halted at the door by Luka. "Have you spoken to her? Hmm? What have you done with her?"
"You are filled with emotion, Luka, no?"
"Something you are incapable of."
"Well, you cannot substitute emotion for reason. Emotion does not win war. And this is war." Jules' shoulders relaxed as he turned around and played into Luka's fears. "Loyalty is a funny thing. Sometimes what appears to be loyalty is actually deception. You really ought to choose who you lay with very carefully." Luka lunged at the man, but was too late, barreling into the closed door instead.
Commotion outside the house kept Luka from resting. He could hear people coming and going, even Jules' horrid voice. But he stayed to his corner hoping to hear just one voice. Only one in particular.
Well into the afternoon he started to hear drums and singing in the distance. Vehicles traveled the road and the action directly around the house waned. A different person entered the room with water this time. Not Dogo and not the pregnant woman. The two looked eye to eye before they acknowledged each other.
"Mbuto?" the man asked remembering they shared no common language except his elementary French and very broken English.
"Oui."
"En l'école?"
"Oui. Yes, in school."
"En les États Unis?"
"Non. Afrique."
"Football?"
Luka laughed. "Oui. Football. Bien. Tres bien." The boy excelled in the sport.
Mbuto's father sighed and smiled. Something Luka had never seen. He also knew he'd exhausted about all of the French the man knew.
"I need help," Luka pleaded. "What is that?" he asked pointing in the direction of the drums and voices.
"Ah, celebration. Mmmm, big - for Jules. Many people."
"Who is here? You, me…?" Luka used his hand to indicate the rest of the area.
"Dogo. Jules' woman."
"Please," Luka pleaded, "help me. Help me find my woman."
At first the man stood motionless, contemplating what Luka was asking of him. It was almost an occupational habit as Luka took note of the man's increased respiration and sweating, the dark eyes searching the small room as he struggled with himself. Eventually he nodded.
"Yes?" Luka asked. "Yes, you'll help me escape?"
"Tonight," is all he said before quickly leaving and locking the door behind him.
There certainly was a celebration. Luka could hear the festive singing and chanting just above the dark and eerie drums beating away. As darkness fell he wondered if he'd been forgotten. Nobody had been to see him in several hours and he could see no one from his small portal. Finally the door opened and Mbuto's father came in pointing to the door with his gun.
"You go now. Now."
"Dogo?" Luka asked knowing that man didn't even need a weapon to over take him. The man shook his head. "He's not here?"
The man didn't answer, but simply raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. Luka didn't need to know any more. He got to his feet but stopped short of leaving, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out that which he had carried with him for so long.
"This is from Mbuto."
The man took the play coin from Luka's hand and turned it over, recognizing the little gift he had given his son.
"I… you…" Luka couldn't quite put it into words that the man could understand. "It's a good deed. And… thank you."
The man simply closed his hand around the coin and smiled again, nodding at Luka. In return, the man pulled the pistol Luka came with from inside his coat and handed it to him. There was a communication there that transcended culture and language.
Outside the house, Luka nearly ran into the woman. She looked at him stunned as Luka lifted up his shirt and tucked the gun into his waistband, concealing it behind the black fabric.
"Do you trust this man?" Luka asked her, pointing to Mbuto's father, but she didn't answer. "More than Jules?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to get you to safety, but you need to trust me too. Okay?"
She was young and strikingly beautiful. Her face which had been so sad, now had hope as she nodded. "Yes. Okay."
The three of them, Luka, the woman and Mbuto's father walked up the road to the celebration, out in the open, nobody to stop them. Just before they came upon the large bonfire, Luka motioned for Mbuto's father to wait in the trees off to the side. Holding onto the woman with his one good arm, Luka brazenly blended into the crowd mixed with a large variety of cultures and colors. There were military and government representatives, traditional African dress, men, women and children, all sitting and standing around this large bon fire. A group was dancing to the rhythm of the drums and singing of voices while the crowd cheered along all smiling. Luka stood with the woman, solitary in their lack of festivity.
As the dancers parted, Luka saw that he was directly opposite his opponent. The orange and yellow flickers of the flames danced around Jules' and without even being directed to look his way, Jules' attention went immediately to Luka… and the woman he grasped by the upper arm, as though he could sense the doctor's presence. Luka stood tall and didn't avert his eyes, didn't even try. He had the upper hand, or so he wanted Jules to think.
Jules' initial blank look didn't last long as he sported a sick smile and motioned to his side where a white woman toting cameras approached. Turning his head to whisper in her ear, he never took his eyes off Luka. Eventually Colleen turned to look in Luka's direction as well. She too smiled, only it wasn't a smile Luka had ever seen before. Ever. The two whispered back and forth until finally Colleen walked around the circle towards Luka. He noticed there were no other photographers. None. The media was by invitation only, the Australians had told him. Whoever scored this shoot was one lucky bastard.
"Luka. What are you doing here?" Her eyes were different, he thought.
"Get your things. We're leaving."
"No, I don't think you understand," she patronizingly told him. "I'm working."
"How did you get here?"
"How did you get here?"
"Do you know who this man is?"
"Never seen him before. Just another political figure. Now go home, Luka."
With that she leaned into him to kiss him on the cheek. Her soft red curls brushed against his lips and that's when he smelled it. Jules' cologne and a faint smell of cigar.
"Tell Jules I look forward to our private dinner tonight. Soon." Luka's voice was no longer spirited with hope. "And tell him it must be private."
Colleen carried Luka's message back to Jules who listened intently, then smiled before gently stroking Colleen's hair.
He could feel the heat of the bonfire as they walked back down the road they had just come up. In a dip in the road, he stopped abruptly as Carter walked up on him.
"Carter. You need to get out of here." He couldn't believe that Carter had come so far and in such dangerous conditions just to confront him again.
"I came to get you." Carter looked tired, but in better condition than Luka. "Come on, there's still time and I have a contact - a good one - that can get us out of here safely." Always the messenger of hope. "Luka, we have to go now."
"No. You do."
Carter was going to mess up the only chance he had for Colleen to get away safely. "Luka, we found these in Colleen's bag."
Luka looked down and saw photographs of Colleen standing with Jules, the picture from the front page of the paper. She was standing with Jules and the pregnant woman. She said she didn't know him, but there she was in a picture taken not too long ago. And the paper, what did Carter say? She was dirty? She set Carter up on the ambush? That was her handwriting.
"No."
"Luka, look at me. I just came from a rebel field hospital where I found these." Carter took the two marked vials from his pocket and showed them to Luka who looked intently at them. Those were his marks. They got to the field hospital somehow. "She is buying her way to Jules through us, all for pictures."
The theory was plausible, Luka knew it. But… but… "Get out, Carter. Go home." He was in the way. In the way. Then Carter had the audacity to ask if Luka was part of a conspiracy. He didn't have an answer to that, because if it was true, if Colleen really was… well then, he certainly was guilty by association.
"You've seen him, haven't you?" Carter asked incredulously. "You've been talking to Jules."
Guilty by association. And now he was about to parley with the devil. "Go back down that road, Carter. There are vehicles going in and out of the area. Get a ride."
Luka didn't hear Carter calling after him as he walked into the trees and met up with Mbuto's father. "Take her to Mbuto," he told him while looking at the woman, knowing she'd translate. "Pakwach, Uganda. Ask for the PCRC. Ask for Bob. No guns, no machetes. You are refugees from Congo. Go."
He was exhausted and squatted down against the tree as he tried to compose himself. The feeling was beginning to return to his left arm, he must have pinched a nerve. But with that came lots of pain in his collarbone and elbow. He tried resting his hand naturally in his pocket, but the pain was too much, so he let it continue to hang like useless dead weight. Walking through the woods, he made his way back to the house hoping to keep out of sight.
The warm night air kissed Luka in the back of his neck as he emerged from the woods into the dark open field. The dark shadows contrasted with the spotlights of illumination aimed by the full moon. There was a vehicle at the house now and as he walked along the tree line out of sight, he heard the familiar voices of Carter and Jules.
"Let Kovac go."
That was Carter, pleading with Jules?
"He's a free man. He can come and go as he pleases." A sprinkling of color lit up the sky as the sound of exploding fireworks combined with the drums and far off voices. "I do so love a good display. Don't you?"
Luka looked up at the fireworks worried that they would brighten the area too much. He heard Colleen's name mentioned. And moved forward again, to hear better.
"She tried to have me killed." He could see Carter's face now as he sneaked up behind Jules.
"It's not that she tried to kill you," Jules said in his profoundly self satisfying droll, "but that you were… let's say… expendable."
He knew, Luka thought. He knew. Which meant that Colleen was involved? Just behind Carter, Luka saw Colleen come from behind the vehicle. She was walking up behind Carter just as mysteriously as Luka had appeared behind Jules.
Jules most assuredly could see Colleen, and with the look on Carter's face, he could see Luka. What Jules and Luka were seeing was Colleen raising her revolver, unbeknownst to Carter.
"You and your friend are quite gullible subjects, do you know that?" the demented dictator spewed. "No, I don't suppose you do."
Luka exchanged looks with Carter hoping he would stand still, not move. With his right hand he reached under his shirt and pulled out the pistol, carefully disarming the safety.
"Isn't the human mind remarkable?" Jules spewed. "It is so pliable, and like a flimsy piece of rubber, it can be pulled and twisted into any number of shapes. But in the end, the owner of that mind won't do anything that he - or she - truly does not want to do… or so I'm told."
Had he played with Colleen's mind? Had he twisted and reshaped it? He suddenly couldn't hear much of what Carter and Jules were saying anymore as he focused solely on Colleen. She raised her gun and pointed it in his direction. Is she aiming at Jules or me, Luka wondered.
"Sometimes one must eliminate those… things… that clutter the soul."
Without much movement, Colleen slowly turned so that the gun was pointed at the back of Carter's head. Luka's anger showed through his eyes as he looked coldly at her sly smile. She cocked the gun.
Click.
Once you cock it, you're committed to shooting. That's what she had said. Once you cock it…
Luka raised his own gun and aimed it squarely at Colleen. He didn't want to do this. He didn't. But he knew enough about Colleen to know that she would follow through.
"You see, my friend, I can make anyone do just about anything for me," Jules lingered aloud.
He could tell that Colleen had made eye contact with Jules. She nodded her head as she displayed a half smile similar to the one Jules carried around with him. But before she could act, Luka pulled his trigger, the bullet hitting her dead center as a bouquet of reds, blues and greens rained down on them from above.
All four stood as Colleen looked down at her blood soaked chest, then slumped to the ground. Carter was just as stunned to see Colleen behind him as Jules was to see Luka. But like a deer in headlights, Carter and Jules stood their ground staring at Colleen, and Luka remained in position, his gun still pointed at where Colleen had stood. And none registered the rustling in the trees as several figures poured from the jungle in the distance.
Luka finally released the gun from his grip and ran to Colleen's side. Her eyes were open, the color draining from her face and lips. As her eyes looked up at Luka, a huge gush of dark red blood spilled from her mouth and combined with that which had soaked through Luka's pants as he held her on top of his lap. He could see death meet her eyes even before her last few agonal attempts to breath went unanswered.
Carter and Jules both lunged for Luka's gun as soon as it hit the ground. Carter was closer, but Jules had a better right hook giving Carter's head and face a few blows. It didn't keep his long arm from reaching out and finally grasping the gun, the barrel still warm from Luka's shot. Carter suddenly had energy and courage he never knew existed as he rolled the larger Jules onto his back and straddled his chest, shoving the end of the gun straight into the evil man's mouth.
Carter was shaking as he held the gun still, his finger on the delicate trigger. Looking down into Jules' eyes he marveled at how the blood from his fractured nose dripped onto the man's face one drop at a time until it had pooled and run like a river off his cheek. His anger boiled over, months of secret torment reaching a crescendo as he spoke barely above a whisper, though loud enough, and slow enough for Jules to understand:
"Life - is pleasant. Death - is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."
The two were oblivious to the large group of newcomers that had entered the scene and the several red beams of laser light pointed at Carter's chest, back, and head.