Hello my dear readers... (if you still exist) - I'm back, after 2 years it's about time to bring this to an end.
I start by (slightly) rewriting the last chapter.
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For the first time in weeks, I don't want Audrey to be by my side. But at the same time, I can't make her go away. I can't tell her not to listen, even though I'd still love to hide the outside world from her.
This phone call means we're in trouble.
I hurried back to our rooms, she already had a hard time following me. If this call means that we're in danger,... I have other sorrows now than to care if Audrey can keep up with my fast steps.
Of course she followed me back to my room and while I hurriedly unlock the door, she expectantly stands next to me, trying to catch her breath.
Can I tell her that I want to do this alone?
Hardly. She'd be mad. She wouldn't understand that I've just been hiding things from her just to protect her and to let her recover in peace.
I don't have the time to argue or to explain. A satellite phone is hidden in one of the closets in my room, switched off all the time. I first have to assemble it, put the SIM card in and the pre-charged battery that I kept beside it.
Audrey's eyes follow my moves.
Done. I type Chloe's number, the one that I know by heart.
That's the last chance to tell Audrey to leave me alone.
I look into her eyes, she's standing right in front of me. What look is that, in her eyes? It's not sadness. Is it being afraid? Excitement? It's hard to tell. I don't what to say to her. If I send her away, she'd be afraid. If I let her stay… I have no idea what Chloe is going to tell me. Will she freak out?
Do you really want to listen to this?, I ask her. What a stupid question. We're in this together. Whatever it is, it will have an effect on her life. I have to stop treating her like a child.
She slightly nods her head yes.
I hit the call button. It rings two times, then Chloe picks up, I guess she already expected my call. No hello's. No names. We agreed on that. Whenever we have to address each other, I'm her 'brother' and she'll be my 'sister'. Funny, how fast the everyday life and way of speaking of the Serbian mafia rubbed off on us.
You should move.
Why?
They're putting pressure on her husband.
I see how Audrey almost jerks as she hears the word 'husband'. It triggered something in her.
How?
They tracked some bank transactions. Could lead to you. You should move.
Where?
The holiday lodge.
Okay. I have a brief look at the display. The timer shows 29 seconds. A good time to hang up. No agency is able to trace a 29 seconds long phone call to a certain address. But nevertheless, they could know my approximate area, if they managed to listen - even a 200 miles radius is discomforting me right now.
I disassemble the phone again and break the SIM card into two pieces. In my bag are five more. But I won't use the same number again. So we'll have five more chances to contact Chloe, when we're on on our way.
Audrey still stands there, looking at me.
I'm not sure how much of the other end of the phone call she has heard. Has she heard that the CIA or the White House have started to put pressure on Mark because they found out that he gave me the necessary money to save her? No Chloe, didn't say that much.
But nevertheless, it got her thinking. I can see that in her eyes.
I should have told her about that, long ago. About so many other things, too. She doesn't even know who's haunting her and why. She doesn't know anything about how I managed to get her out of China. With the help of Belcheck and Igor, guys from the Serbian mafia, financed by me and above all, by Mark.
A few weeks ago, she was so fragile that I hadn't dared to mention anything from the outside world. Maybe she still sees me as the knight on the white horse who has come to save her... but I'm just a criminal, a haunted person, like her.
During the past week, she really changed. She grew stronger, physically, but also mentally.
I hope she'll manage to keep up in the coming days, when we'll be on the run. I hope she'll manage hearing the truth and all the details.
Audrey?, I quietly ask.
She stares at me, her eyes wide open. She yields back a step.
We better leave this place, I tell her. Was it wrong to say that? Did it trigger even more?
She nods yes, having already expected me to say something like that.
Chloe told me to got to the holiday lodge, that means going back to Belgrade. I have barely enough cash for the trip, but that's okay. Back in Belgrade, I have one more bank account that I can use. It'll be enough for a year, for Audrey and me.
Damn it. I hate these thoughts. That's just one more thing that keeps gnawing at me during the day and throughout the night. Money. Security. Financing a hidden life was one of the most expensive things at all.
You better get some rest.. before we leave after it gets dark, I say, and step forward, closer to her. She stands there, immovably, as I softly put my hand on her shoulder. She's trembling. I'd like to say something like 'everything's gonna be okay, I'll take you to a safe place'. But that's the point when I realize: I've said it too often. To too many people In too many occasions, whenever I gave somebody my word that everything would be okay. I was wrong, too many times.
I can't give her my word that everything will be alright. The Chinese would like to wipe out all evidence by killing us. The border to China is less than 200 miles away. The Russians still want me back, damnit. Their border is even less far away. I'm sure Kazakhstan is flooded with Russian agents. The CIA won't help us. They were already trying to take me off the streets before I could tell anyone how big they fucked up when they lost Audrey in London.
She doesn't one single thing about that all. It's me who worries about that. She trusts me blindly, but I don't even trust myself right now that I'll make it against so many enemies.
We'll be on the run for almost a week. We'll need to head through Kazakhstan, then cross the Caspian sea to Azerbaijan because I don't wanna travel through Iran or Russia, we need to head through Armenia, to Turkey, and then it'll be relatively easy to get to Europe. This is the same route that I already took on the way here. There are people along this route who I can contact and who I've already worked with. Igor's net will help us, in exchange for a stack of Dollar bills. I planned it all before I came here. They are awaiting me.
We'll be on the road for at least a week, I quietly whisper into her ear, step closer, and I take her hand. Everything will be alright. I have to say it, to comfort myself, I guess. Giving her my word that I'll take her to a place where everything will be alright is a promise that I make to her here and now - now there is a promise that I have to keep. And I'll do anything to keep it.
Eventually, she just nods her head and pulls her hand away. She heads back over to her room to rest, while I start packing all our things into three bags. I'll leave quite some things behind. But I have to take all the weapons and a few different sets of clothes, to disguise. We'll cross some countries where at least Audrey can hide easily underneath a burkha.
I have to get all the weapons that I've hid in various places all over the building. It takes some time. We won't need them any more for a sudden nightly getaway.
But I'll have to leave one of the two assault rifles behind that Belcheck bought. It's a terrible waste of money, but I can't carry two assault rifles along the way. I'll leave it here, well hidden in a place where it might come in handy for someone out of Igor's net who will also use this convent as a hideaway.
Half an hour later - I'm not even halfway done with packing - there's a knock on my door. Audrey. She doesn't even wait for me to answer but comes in.
It looks like she wanted to say something.
I'm still crouching in the middle of the room, my weapons laid out on the floor, along with ammunition and clips. Spellbound, I stare at her. Please Audrey, speak to me! Please! I hoped so much that she'd finally be able to tell me what's going on in her head.
She closes the door behind her, leaning against it, and stars at the armory.
Does it threaten her to see so many weapons, so close? Does it bring back memories of her captivity? Or memories that tell her who I really am? That I'm not only the man who loves her and who'd do anything for her - that inside me there's a big part that she once called a monster?
Slowly, I stand up.
She looked liked she was about to start talking. Now she doesn't. Seeing all the weapons on the floor changed something.
Couldn't you sleep?, I quietly ask her.
She almost imperceptibly nods her head in agreement. Finally, she takes her eyes off the weapons and looks into mine.
I can see it how much she'd like to speak to me right now, but something bad came back into her mind, as she saw how close the danger sill is.
Everything will be alright, I whisper, and wipe one of her blonde strands away from her face, softly, until my thumb rests at her cheek.
She doesn't believe me.
How could she. Even I don't believe my own words. How could she believe me saying that she'll be safe, when there's an armory lying on the floor behind me, one that I bought because I thought we'd need it. The facts shout aloud: danger is expected. Not safety.
We have a long way to go, until reaching something called 'safety'. I fear we'll never really reach such a place.
Hesitatingly I step closer and take her into my arms. I'll do everything it takes to keep you safe.
She claws her fingers into the shirt that I'm wearing, as if it was the only thing of me that she can grab and hold.
I'll get you out of here, I tell her, and I'm ultimately taken back to that night, two months ago, when we split up on the run from the Chinese prison. I regretted it so much, having left her. I left her so many times. Countless times. Every single one is gnawing at my conscience. Faking my death. Being so inattentive to let the Chinese get me. Leaving her though she would have needed me by her side to recover. Giving up on following her, two months ago, leaving her back alone in that cold Chinese river. God only knows what happened to her afterwards. She must have been out there alone for at least three days, before they brought her back. That was the time they were torturing me to make me tell them our escape route. I don't know what they did to her after they got her back. But it must have been something terrible, since she's no longer willing to speak.
I'd like to tell her that I feel like I can never make up for all the pain that I've caused her - and that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it by being there for her. I can't tell her that. Not now. It would just remind her of everything that she had to go through – that's exactly what I want her to forget.
Damn it. Sometimes, the truth just wants to come out. It's hard to hold back.
Some endless moments, we stay there, immovably. We both know that there's a lot that we need to say each other. But we both can't, because we can't handle it.
You should get some rest, I tell her, after a while, to break the silence. I feel how she slightly nods her head yes.
She doesn't want to be alone, over in her room, that's probably why she came over. I can understand her.
I lead her over to the bed, pushing a few packs of ammo out of the way as we walk across the room. She lies down and pulls the blanket up to her chin.
I crouch down next to the bed, hoping that she'll close her eyes to sleep.
But she doesn't even close her eyes. She obviously doesn't want to sleep or rest. Damn it, she'd really need it. We'll be on our way as soon as it gets dark. I have a car ready in the back yard and we'll drive the whole night, then stop somewhere to sleep and drive for one more day.
Expectantly, she stares at me, waiting for me either to say something or continue packing.
You should really get some rest, I tell her again, the way will be long. Five or six days, at least.
That look in her eyes. Finally, I get it, what it means. She doesn't even know where we're going. And she just can't ask.
I'm at a loss, what to answer. We're going to Belgrade. Serbia, I tell her. As soon as the words are out, her features change. From excitement, to something that I can easily interpret as being disappointed.
Did she expect me to take her back home, to the U.S.? Most likely. Of course she did.
I have a place there, where we'll be safe for a while, I say to her, to make her disappointment go away, but it doesn't. I added the 'for a while' not because we wouldn't be safe there forever - the arrangements and precautions that I took when I settled down there are good enough to stay there indefinitely - but because the prospect of staying in Belgrade seems to be awful for her.
She doesn't understand why we can't go home, why we can't just drive to the US consulate and make this all be over. God, how should I explain to her? She doesn't even know that she's officially dead! She doesn't know that her father is no longer in office, she doesn't know that the CIA would kill us on sight just to wipe out their failure.
I wish she could say something. I can't push her. I can't rush her. But it leaves me alone, making decisions regarding her future, her safety, her life, without even hearing her opinion.
Do you wanna go home, Audrey?
Damn it, what a stupid question. Did I really just ask her that?
Instead of clear nod, saying yes, tears start to well in her eyes.
She can't say yes. I guess she remembers, what 'home' means. Mark Boudreau. A marriage, a house in the suburbs, a family, a good life. The more she remembers how good it can be, the worse it seems to be now.
She doesn't know that there is no home that she can go back to. That her father probably wouldn't even recognize her, given the state that he's in. That the man who she's still married to - probably even still loves - sits at home wearing an ankle monitor after being convicted for treason. That the beautiful house that they lived was sold a month ago, that there's nothing left. That she'd be coming back to a rotten two bedroom apartment where he lives because Mark delivered a quarter million to the Serbian mafia to help me finance the mission to rescue her.
Her whole life fell apart ever since London and she doesn't even know.
Hesitatingly I slide a bit closer, put a hand on her shoulder and bow down to her.
I just want you to be safe, I whisper, hoping to make her terrible thoughts better, whatever you decide to do in the end, where you wanna be. I don't want to lie to her. I don't want to tell her that I'll take her home and this will be over in a week. She deserved better than such lies. But she wouldn't be up to the truth. You'll be safe, Audrey.
It didn't help. Now she's even more teary-eyed than before. God, I don't want to see her like that. I'm desperately searching for something to tell her, something that'll put an end to her tears and make her feel better. How stupid am I? Telling her that she will be safe? Doesn't that say that she's not safe now?
I was never good at comforting someone. Maybe I should just shut up.
Does she want to hear that I'm there for her? That I'll always be? I guess she knows that already. Maybe I'm not the solution - maybe I am the problem. Maybe she remembers Mark right now, and she's afraid of telling me. Who knows. I haven't even told her yet what kind of a role he played in her rescue. He risked a lot. He gave a lot. Who am I to deny that. Without his help, I would have never been able to get her out.
I have to tell her that, one day.
Not today. I just don't have the heart to do it right now.
I stay there, holding her, until she closes her eyes to sleep.
There's nothing I could have said to make her feel better. Nothing. I'd love to tell her that she has a future, a life ahead of her that is worth living - but I'm not so sure. She has lost everything already and they're haunting her. She's down at my level now: living from day to day, hoping to stay unseen. This is not a life worth living.
I should pack our things but I stay a few more minutes, just looking at her and stroking over her hair. She shouldn't be torn into such a life. I can't let that happen. I have to find a way to get the CIA and the White House off her back, to let her return home. There must be a way.
I just can't let her live the life that I have.
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