Ch 1 The Cost of Doing Business
Teresa was nervous because she had decided to listen to the united voice of reason presented by Pote and James, who had expressed the same opinion on a matter for the first time in the last week since James had jointed their operation in Malta!
She had decided not to put her budding business with Rocco da le Pena at risk by directly associating herself with the 'theft' of his Russian slave girls. And defaulting on the promise she had made to one of the girls in Rocco's bar burned her inside.
She stepped nervously from one foot to the other as Pote told her that George and his gang had communicated that the mission had been '80% successful'.
"What exactly does that mean?" Teresa could not contain her voice.
"Not sure…that's all he texted me…Quires verlo el mensaje tu misma?" (Do you want to see the message yourself?) Pote grumbled.
"It most likely means that they did not save all the girls…that someone died in this heist at sea!" James added and took out his smokes. "There were ten girls…I read this message that he saved eight and could not save two."
Pote noticed that James was careful not to specify how the two had not been saved, possibly not to upset Teresa, whose pale face got even more troubled, and she briskly went in the kitchen to get herself a bottle of water.
Pote used the moment wisely: "Can't believe she listened to us, Cabron! That's unusual…We gotta be a united front more often!"
James just shook his head: "True…but it doesn't benefit anyone to have her mop around upset and impatient. If this is to work…to work better…less dangerously…as she and I agreed…as she wants it to…we all need to be on the same page …and right now we are not!"
It was later in the day that George arrived accompanied by five Somali soldiers, ex pirates, and his indispensable Bilal.
The girls had been saved in a risky and 'heroic' operation of 'good and honorable' pirates attacking and taking over the ship of 'bad and dishonorable' traders in human flesh, as Geroge presented the events that had transpired once his boat and men had intercepted the yacht on which the Russian girls, formerly owned by Rocco De la Pena, had been sent off to their new owner in Spain. There was no way for Rocco to figure The King's crew was associated with his newest coke supplier of Bolivian flake, who had also become a customer of his bank. And so, Teresa had been convinced to stay put and let the pirates do their thing.
However, James's read of the message had been correct, as usual…because James was the one with the experience in deciphering curt military style comms! And Teresa had been down ever since George and the crew had made landfall and he had called.
So, as she kept hearing men's voices, full of excitement and touching on laughter, she finally opened the door of her room and despite the splitting headache she still had, ventured out.
George was leaning on the balcony, exhaling smoke through his nostrils, the sweet smell of ganja around him, while Bilal was explaining, actively gesturing to Pote and James, who were both smoking regular tabaco, sitting on the lounge chairs, while Pote kept waiving his arm to dissipate the invasive ganja smoke. They were both turned with their backs to her, so she could not see their expressions, but George was grinning and nodding in support of Bilal's story.
"So, this idiot starts patting his Majesty down…and the King…just closes his eyes like you know…he is liking it and says something like 'God, this feels good! A little to the left!", at which moment George exploded laughing and Teresa caught herself smiling and taking a few more steps to the balcony.
Bilal went on: "So, the King gets a nasty glare and is told to get in the car…so that they can take us to meet Rocco's transpo guy…And we get in and this idiot keeps yapping that we need to hurry, else we might be singing out the other end of our asses!"
George erupted in another bout of laughter and Teresa was sure she heard both Pote and Jamed laugh too. Then George just couldn't hold it as audience anymore and stepped in the center to continue: "And I stare at this punk as if I'm in this deep thought, you see…and then I say that I don't get it!"
"How so?" Pote asked and coughed, not sure if with smoke or laughter or both.
"Well…See now!' George continued animatedly: "Out of the end of my ass makes sense…But the other end of my ass? What does it mean exactly? So, I said that technically if you follow the intestinal tract, the other end is my mouth. Right?" George was beside himself with the level of his ingenuity as James shook his head and Teresa was certain he was whole heartedly enjoying the King's jokes for the first time.
George continued: "That's when I got a punch in the side! Must have offended the man's sensibilities…How was I to know that these simple delivery guys had such high sensibilities?"
Teresa had already stepped out on the balcony and as George and Bilal both looked in her direction, Pote and James instinctively turned around.
"How are you, Principessa?" George's voice boomed. "I was told you had a splitting headache…and I got a cure for it…some ganja to share!"
To everyone's surprise Teresa walked over to him, took the half smoked joint and took a puff. Then looked at him and said: "How did the two girls die? Tell me in detail!"
The loss was 'the cost of doing business!" George had said and Teresa kept staring at the distance trying to rationalize that she should be happy the plan had saved eight girls and she had remained stable in her position as Rocco's new associate. But her mind kept bugging her that two girls had died in the rescue mission as Rocco's sailors had opened fire. She couldn't help but think there had been a better way, a less violent way to save them, but it would have cost her the efforts of the last six months.
"I have a heart…this is what it looks like!" She had told Pote and James as she had tried to convince them to go along. And that heart was now unable to enjoy the victory as it was not complete, as it was marred by loss and death. Could she ever get to the place where she would enjoy such a victory? Would there ever be a victory without a loss?
Teresa knew she was different from Camila, knew that the price this Life would make her pay would be high. But she had to try to make good on her wish to make this biz better. And as time ticked by, she got back inside having made up her mind to find a way 'not to constantly run', to find a way to face reality.
