Authors: Craig Gehring
“I love you, too,” said Bri’ley’na.
He walked back to kiss her, then ran to the temple.
“Seacrest!” muttered Edward under his breath. He pulled the car out of the driveway and idled it in the direction of the doctor’s house. He would give
the doctor
sixty seconds before he pulled off.
He could see the back of Seacrest’s hou
se. It was all
windows. Light flashed inside as a gun cracked
. One of the windowpanes shattered.
Seacrest
burst through the broken window.
He held a briefcase in one hand and a gun in the other. He twisted his body backwards in a dead run so he could shoot as he fled
.
“Seacrest!” shouted Edward.
An Onge crawled through the window after him, but ducked when
Seacrest fired
. The doctor was a lousy aim.
“Go! Go! ” shouted Seacrest as he leapt into the
back seat of the
car. Edward kindly waited until most of Seacrest’s
body parts were in the vehicle before roaring away toward the city.
“What the hell is that?”
Edward shouted above the over-revved engine
.
“My briefcase,” said Seacrest. The doctor gasped. “Oh, mother of God, Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints…”
“I hope you’re praying,” said Edward sharply.
“I hope I am, too,
father
,
”
said
Seacrest. Edward took his eyes off the road long enough to look in the passenger area behind him. Seacrest sat sideways staring into an empty briefcase.
“What was in th
ere
?” asked Edward.
It took the doctor a long time to answer. Edward made it h
alf the way into
town before getting a reply. He trained the rear view mirror on his passenger.
Seacrest
had no color to his cheeks. He just kept staring down at the
briefcase, as though he could will its former contents back into existence if he focused hard enough.
“Some personal eff
ects,
”
was Seacrest’s answer at long last.
Edward slammed the brakes on the car. It skidded to a halt. He twisted around to face Seacrest. His patience
was
worn thin by the exhaustion
and the aching
. He could hardly think anymore. He had no idea how he had managed to keep on driving despite his weariness. “Listen! I’m not a cop, I’m a priest.
And I’m not even a priest. I’
ve never known you until now. After today, I will again not even know you. You have no reason to lie to me. There is no harm I can do to you with the information. But there is a great deal of harm I can do to you for not
telling me what I need to know
. If that briefcase is empty, then that means the Onge have
what was in it
. If the Onge have it, then I need to know what it is. You can tell me on friendly terms or on any terms you wish, but you
’ve got to
tell me.”
If that briefcase
had money, Manassa could
use it to make his move.
The very idea panicked Edward.
Edward had expected it to take more time for Manassa to gather his resources. A sudden infusion of cash could be disastrous. He could move immediately
.
Seacrest
climbed
into the front passenger sea
t. “Your
Onge are wearing off on you, old boy.
Drive. I’ll tell you eve
rything. No need for threats
.”
Edward started the car. “What was in the suitcase?”
“My insurance,” said Seacrest matter-of-factly.
“Your what?” Edward’s asked curtly.
“My insurance. I’ll explain,” said Seacrest.
“Go on.”
He’d better finish before I get to the clinic.
The clinic
was all
Edward
could think about. He had to get to the clinic basement bef
ore something happened to her.
Something already has happened to her. They have her.
He
somehow
knew th
is, and yet he still had to
hope and try
.
“I am an exile, my friend.”
Tell me something I don’t know
. “Yes?”
“I’ll explain,” said Seacrest.
“You’ve got ten minutes.”
Or less
. Edward managed to keep the kph slowly climbing
. He was getting more
comfortabl
e with the Cor
vette at high speeds.
“
I’m telling you this because you need to know it to help me get off
this island. But if I tell you,
you
’ve got to
tell me the real reason you’re at war with the Onge
.”
“I can’t tell you why. I can tell you how. That’s all you need if you can help me.”
“Very well. Well, since it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t have any insurance…I was a doctor in
Melbourne
. My practice was failing - the economy and so forth. This was
more than
a decade ago. A punk with a gunshot wound knocked on the back door of my clinic and collapsed in the staff lounge. I took him under treatment, sewed him up, and accepted a couple thousand bucks cash for the job. I started getting backdoor guests every week. Turned out the first kid I treated was the nephew of a very dark name in
the city
. A man approached me about turning my practice into a night clinic, and eliminating expenses by firing all of my staff.”
“An offer you couldn’t refuse?” asked Edward.
“It was an offer, mind you. But I took it. Business slowed a couple years later as this man consolidated his territory in
Victoria
. No turf wars meant no doctoring. They could no longer justify my fat salary, and I was getting hounded
for taxes
, so I took a transfer to
Sri Lanka
and a raise. They
had started an operation out here
and there was
big demand
for doctoring.
Not to mention that
Sri Lanka
is more cash-friendly.”
“How did you end up
on this island
?”
“I took too many clients. Once I set up shop in
Sri Lanka
, I started accepting pay from a couple allied
gangs
, in addition to m
y
own clan
. The local cartel
got hostile with us.
Th
e main man at the cartel, Liang –
well
,
his son
was wounded near my clinic and he knew he could get help
there. He was a personal friend of mine. I took him even though
relations were strained
. He died in my care within minutes. There was no way to stop the bleeding. Liang blamed me, said I
let his son die
on purpose, and put a price on my head.”
“What about your
…”
“Gang?
My employers?
” Seacrest laughed. “Don’t kid. They sought peace with Liang, and came after me, too. I exiled myself to
Lisbaad
.”
“Why
Lisbaad
?”
“It was a deal we made. Liang controls practically all ships going to and from
Lisbaad
. He may as well own this island.”
“Then why aren’t you dead?”
“The deal is, I live in
Lisbaad
and never leave. If I leave, Liang kills me. And in return for his consideration, for allowing me to live in this cell, I don’t allow certain photos of him dealing with a known CIA operative to surface amongst his
cartel underbosses
. My insurance.”
“And your
ex-employer
?”
“Let’s just say that certain photos of white mobsters raping heretofore missing in action yellow women of the cartel would put an end to
all the profitable operations
they have going here.”
“Your insurance.”
This is far worse than
cash
in Ma
nassa
’s hands. Instead of a bird in the hand, he gets five thousand in the bush.
Edward prayed
the Onge didn’t know what he
had. “How’d you get these?”
“A lot of money paid to people who didn’t know what they were worth.”
“Was there any money in the briefcase?” asked Edward.
“No, just the photos,” he answered.
“Well, why are they so important to you? If this truce you have is already negotiated, then why does it matter whether you have them there or not?”
Edward’s question struck a nerve. Seacrest screamed spontaneously,
“Because I want
off this island!
That’s why!
I want to renegotiate. I don’t like the deal, for Christ’s sake.
” Seacrest sighed.
“
Sorry.”
Edward waved.
“Sorry,” Seacrest repeated. “Anyway, I’m miserable on this island. I’d rather
be dead. My ticket out was this
briefcase. Now I’ll need to do plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”
“Get a friendly ex-priest to smuggle me out on a boat to Sri Lanka and I will in return assist him
,
in ways that only I can
,
in his
odd
battle with the Onge.”
His underground connections. Ma
nassa
just got a lightyear forward but so did
I
.
“If it’s drugs you’re dealing with, I can help.”
“You could get off this island without me,” said Edward.
Seacrest shrugged. “Maybe I can, maybe I can’t. I think my chances are better with your help.”
“It’s Callista,” said Edward.
Seacrest shrugged. “I get it, she’s your gal.”
Edward just watched him.
“Look,” said Seacrest. “She’s a friend. We can talk. I don’t have many friends. I’ve spent my life running from good guys and running from bad guys and only helping where it pays. I don’t know.”
“How do I know you won’t start running?”
Seacrest shrugged.
I need Seacrest if they’ve taken Cali to the mainland. I’d have no way to find her without him.
“You could just jet when you hit the mainland
, is my point
. How can I trust you?”
asked Edward.
Seacrest leaned forward.
“What is your first name again, Styles?”
Edward was taken aback by the abrupt change in tack. “Edward,” he answered
“Well,
Edward
, although you are pushy, and have threatened my life on two occasions in less than four hours, I can understand that you are a man on a mission - and the fact still remains that you saved my life. So both you and Callista fall under the friend category. If you help me you will not regret it,
Edward
.”
“What kind of help do you need, exactly?”
“We can burn that bridge when we get there. Nothing too difficult. We need to get back to burning this bridge we’re on right here, though, don’t you think?” asked Seacrest.
Edward studied the crook’s eyes.
Well, if he deserts
me on the mainland I won’t be any worse off
.
The greatest thing he’d learned in his experience wit
h Manassa
so far: n
ever trust a human being completely.
Except Callista.
There were some things that ranked over mere survival
, Manassa’s philosophical drivel to the contrary
. But
Edward
had no plans of forming a lifelong love with Seacrest. Here was a man who’d survived in the underworld. Every
one of his
word
s
had ten intentions behind it. The only thing Edward could be sure of was that Seacrest would help him as long as it benefited Seacrest, regardless of whatever words might spew from his mouth to the contrary.
“Fine. I’ll help you, you help me,” said Edward. Seacrest put out his hand. Edward shook it.