Ch 26, Vida de Hombre
Marcel got behind the wheel with the anticipation of getting to the house as soon as possible to tell Chicho that all numbers had added up, that all legal documents had been executed, and that Teresa's venture capital had officially backed up their construction of the Riviera Diamante, the new flashy name for the resort.
He had spent the afternoon and the early evening with Teresa, Kelly Anne and Louise in the venture cap's offices downtown pouring over documents and was feeling the need to unwind. It had all come to fruition! He couldn't have been happier that he had run into Teresa Mendoza on the plane a month ago!
He tuned the women's chatting out as he let the car cruise on the wide road out of town. The kidnapping of his daughter had left a sour taste in his mouth, but as James had promised him that there would be 'no loose ends', Marcel had decided to put his trust in the man. After all Teresa Mendoza did put her trust in him daily!
Then came the pickup's blinding lights in his face, the awful sound of metal hitting metal and the spinning of the car. He knew the truck would T-bone them and possibly turn them over from the driver's side and all of them would stand a very little chance of survival, so he instinctively turned the wheel to the left, the car swerved, and his front driver's side hit the big ugly face of the pickup as he took the whole impact.
All Marcel was able to do was squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath as the car kept spinning until it came to a thudding stop without being hit again by the truck's huge body mass. He remembered hearing the terrified screams of the women.
He felt being sucked in by the vertigo and it suddenly felt easy to just let go. The thought swelled his mental muscles and was quickly outrun by the loss of blood and by the pain.
The next few moments seemed like an eternity past. His mind, which was a pool of muddy water that was getting filthier by the second, gave in and he only felt Teresa's and someone else's arms supporting him as they were trying to get him out of the car. He smelt smoke but could not turn his head to see if it was their car that was on fire; then he heard women's voices and it all became black.
Teresa scrambled out of the car, yanked the driver's door open, thinking that they needed to get unconscious Marcel out before the car caught on fire. The blood on him made her gag, but she pushed the thought in a compartment in her brain and stiffened up.
She saw Louise in the back seat, who had lost all her composure as Kelly Anne, who also looked like a wild animal, was trying to help her exit the car from her banged up door.
"Hold on tight, Marcel, the EMS are here...don't let go...stay with me", Teresa kept repeating as she held Marcel's hand.
She could not say when she was removed from the scene by firemen, or when they had arrived. Her mind kept replaying the instance in which she had seen Marcel's hand swerve the wheel to ensure he would take the blow, basically giving his life to save the three of them.
She could feel the tears running uncontrolled down her face as red and blue lights kept lighting up the area and emergency personnel kept talking indistinctly around her. She saw a paramedic inject her with something, then move over to Louise who had blood on her arms.
Teresa tried to ask if Marcel was alive, but the man told her something that sounded incoherent.
When she woke up, she was lying in a hospital bed, hooked to a monitor, while James and Tony sat on both sides of the bed, heads in their hands, faces pale and tired.
"Did he make it?" were her first words.
"Yes, he'll live…but he may not walk again." James said softly and bent over her to kiss her on the forehead.
While George had to see a shrink, who was not very open about what the boy had shared regarding the harrowing kidnapping experience, due to 'patient confidentiality' matters that made James mad and Teresa worried, at least news about Marcel was coming freely.
His condition was upgraded to stable, but the unfortunate part was that the spine had taken a hit and the doctors weren't certain he would be able to walk. Louise was inconsolable and if it weren't for Kelly Anne to be with her 24/7, she would have gone crazy.
Marcel had turned the car against the turning pickup to take the hit himself, knowing with certainty that he may not survive, in order to save the other three people in the vehicle. The cops had analyzed the markings on the road and were certain that the man had been ready to meet his maker.
The car was registered to James, so he had gone to the police station to deal with the paperwork and during the conversation a few things had come up. First, the insurance was balking at paying because Marcel was a foreign citizen, and second, the driver of the pickup truck was English, living in Madagascar and had arrived in Cape Town just the week before. James could feel his fists bunch up and his throat constrict. Could this accident be linked to the Lancaster family? Or was it just some coincidence?
The phone rang twice before it was answered.
Avi Moshe had a full report to share: "I sent you the address of the mansion in Bath. According to the sources she takes her coffee every morning at 8 a.m. sharp in the grand salon or on the terrace, weather permitting; then she is served breakfast. English punctuality and more!...There are two servers usually. She sits on the east wing terrace. I sent you the area blueprints in a coded message. I personally see several suitable positions…"
"Thank you, brother!" James said. "I'll forever be in your debt!"
Avi chuckled and went on: "You get yourself to London. There's gonna be a room under your name in the Britania International. Once we know you've checked in, we'll make contact and provide you with your favorite ..ahh…trade tool…same make as before?"
"Yes… same would be great!" James confirmed.
"Same scope?" Avi seemed to be making notes.
"Yes… and thank you again!" James could feel his hands itch.
Avi took a small pause, then said: "My men will provide you with a vehicle with fake plates. The DIN on the vehicle will be removed. After that…you're on your own!…You understand the Agency cannot be caught sanctioning an op on friendly territory unbeknownst to the host country…targeting a citizen of said country!"
"I completely understand!" James noted.
"What's the exit plan?" Avi asked.
"I got one in place! But thanks for asking." James said.
"I know you, James, and this makes me feel confident…I mean you don't leave work unfinished...I just never …ahh…figured out how come you left the matter around Finch unfinished!" Avi almost chuckled.
"But I didn't!" James wondered where the conversation was going.
"It was my impression he never believed you shot her dead…You know what I mean?" Avi said.
"Why do you say this?" James wondered.
"I heard stuff...but then it was known that Finch actually was in awe of her achievements...and he really respected you...so maybe he did deem it all 'finished'!" Avi said.
James exhaled deeply: "Oh well…We'll never know now, will we? ...He had a dark soul, Devon, son of a bitch…despite the value of the work he did!" James needed to focus on the task at hand and thinking about their time working for Finch was not accomplishing that.
He found a way to express his gratitude for Mossad's help once again and ended the call.
Teresa was waiting for him in the backyard when he arrived. James sat in the swing next to her and lit a smoke.
"Castel called to see how Marcel was doing. I guess Louise had advised her that he had been hurt!" Teresa's voice was flat and emotionless.
"And?" James exhaled smoke.
"She said he would get the best treatment there was, and that her organization didn't need him for his legs, but for his brain and influence!" Teresa said.
"Hmm…Castel doesn't let go easy!" James butted out, then added: "What I told you over the phone…about the pickup driver…I can't know for sure if the 'mother' sent him…but after the kidnapping…she is a loose end!"
"We can't afford loose ends!" Teresa said slowly and looked him in the eyes. They stared at each other for quite some time, as if reading each other's minds.
Then she said: "I'm sorry you gotta do it again…If I could shoot like you…I'd do it myself…I wouldn't let you …knowing how much it weighs on you!" her face spoke volumes as she had let all her turmoil be written on it.
James shook his head: "Hmm…As if it doesn't weigh on you too…It took me two years of intensive training to become a special forces sniper…and there ain't a way anyone else is doing what is mine to do! It's a man's life, Teresa!…Es la vida de hombre!…Once you have a family…you gotta protect it, no matter what!…It's my cross to bear… and I have no qualms!"
"You sure?" Her heart blipped, as she knew it was him and only him, she would trust to finish such a job.
He almost smiled and took her hand in his: " I look at it this way: How much Sin is in the Crime act!…How much sin can you live with?…Because we are all forced to do bad things to survive ...and we try to do good to offset our mark!...But once the sin in the crime you're committing becomes too much to bear, that's when you need to walk away…And that's what we did years ago…If you can live with it, or if it's necessary to protect your loved ones…", he didn't finish, just lowered his eyes to the ground and took out another smoke.
"Then it's a loose end." Teresa finished the sentence for him. "That was quite some philosophical thinking!" she added and squeezed his shoulder. "But you're right, absolutely right, mi amor!"
James swallowed hard and gave in to his thoughts. He didn't like violence, never had. The sight of blood still made him queasy, especially after the danger had passed. His soul would fill with deep regret that he had had to cause pain and would revolt against the anger that would hold him when committing violence.
Violence was the closest a modern man came to his true primitive self, the closest he came to the intended state of nature. It was the ultimate test of both physical strength and animalistic cunning. But it was still sickening to him, it was a rush, that resembled skydiving without a parachute. And he was on his way to rationalizing it and committing it again!
