The Few (The Abductions of Langley Garret Book 2) (4 page)

'That turned out to be another problem for Kratos,' she said and hesitated. She looked at me with eyes that seemed to ask for my understanding. 'That's why I love you now Soter.' I stared at her in utter disbelief.

Our contemplative silence must have lasted more than two minutes. 'Are we prisoners here, or can we go out for a glass of wine on a terrace?'

'I'd like that. You can show me your beautiful town,' she said, with a half smile that hid more truths that she had in store for me. 'Just give me a few minutes to get ready.'

'And what about men in ill fitting suits?'

'Marcus has his job, I have mine.'

*****

It was a pleasant Swiss autumn afternoon, sunny, clear but with a chill on the gentle breeze. With freshly applied make up, Chara returned to being beautiful, confident and eye catching. More than one pair of male eyes passed and feasted on her beauty, with me far more interested in what her mind held. The Gamay was light, refreshing and local, the scenery picturesque across the lake, but our thoughts were deeper than the waters we looked across. Chara had been given, assigned or allocated to me as a son maker. I presumed, only on the condition that I accepted to be Soter, the spirit of safety, preservation and deliverance from harm and soon to be Strategos of an international group of terrorists. My other choice, I also assumed, would be that if I refused, someone in The Few would think it very fine sport to blow my head off.

'No ill fitting suits I see.'

'Marcus does his job well.'

'Alone?'

'No, he's never alone. And nor are we.'

'Tell me, is there a difference for you between love and in love?'

'Yes,' she said. I nodded. It was the answer I had expected. 'Any more questions?'

'Only whether you have plans for dinner.'

'None at the moment, but I'm open to suggestions.'

'It's the season of
la chasse,
or the hunt, right now. So, perhaps game for dinner?'

'How apt.'

'Yes. It's just a matter of deciding who is the hunter and who is the hunted.'

'There are always decisions like that to make Lang.'

I sipped my wine and considered that Chara was perfectly correct. I glanced to my left and thought I recognised the grey haired, square jawed man standing on the next corner, nonchalantly flicking his cigarette butt into the gutter. With who I presumed was Marcus close by and on the job, I decided to leave the one last burning question I had in my mind until later. It was no coincidence to me that Chara had arrived, along with Marcus and company, the exact same Tuesday morning as the two men who greeted me in rue Pury. The question was, why? In the months since I had returned, if anyone had wanted to kidnap me, kill me or do whatever to me, they'd had plenty of opportunity. The Grey Lady or the Oxford Accent could surely have found me again if they'd realised their mistake in letting me go.

'Lost in your thoughts there?'

'Sorry,' I replied, and returned my attention to her. With the thought lingering in my mind that whatever protection the Swiss government, either officially or unofficially, may have been offering now apparently gone, I was very much on my own.

'So where can we find this very good game for dinner that you mentioned?'

'I'll reserve a table,' I said, as I took my phone from my pocket. 'It's a cosy little restaurant just around the corner from my place.'

'I look forward to it,' she said, as my phone answered and I booked for eight. When I'd finished, I sent a message to my class manager, cancelling my classes for the rest of the week. I had the distinct feeling Chara's suitcase was packed with a few days stay at least in mind. She was looking across the lake, and slowly finishing her Gamay.

'It's getting a bit fresh. Would you like to go to a bar, or back home for a while before dinner?'

'Back to your place would be fine.'

We walked back slowly, with Chara stopping every now and again to do a little window-shopping in the many boutiques, jewellery stores and shoe shops that lined the streets on our way. She hooked her arm in mine, and stayed close – probably more for protection from the chilly breeze than affection for me.

'You wouldn't get to do a lot of shopping on Decem Filios,' I said.

'I don't live there; I just work there, so I get enough time to myself to do shopping. Well, shoe shopping in particular,' she smiled.

*****

I waited over dinner. Chara and I small talked about nothing and anything, but I knew there were just two things I wanted to know. There were probably a hundred other things I absolutely needed to know, but until I had my two questions answered, they could wait. My two questions though had to wait as well, as the saddle of roe deer, accompanied by miniature fruits and red cabbage confit, and delivered in two ceremonial servings, were too spectacular to ruin with difficult questions.

'You only live here because of the food huh?' Chara said, after we'd finished our meal and the waiters were clearing our table.

'There could be worse places to live.'

'You love it here, don't you?'

'It's my home.'

'It's my first time in Switzerland. I'd heard it was beautiful, but I had no idea how beautiful it was. You're very lucky.'

'For as long as it lasts. Coffee?'

'Thank you, yes. That sounds defeatist.'

I ordered our coffee from the waiter as he swept the crumbs from our table with his small silver tablecloth sweeper. 'Aren't you here to defeat me?'

'How do you figure that?'

'Well, can I start with the two uglies in bad suits who scared the shit out of me this morning. They weren't from The Few or whoever you'd like me to think have it in for me. They were part of your welcoming party, weren't they?'

'Maybe your reaction was more important than who they were Lang. You ran. Maybe you should think about why you ran, and not so much about who they were.'

'I like my quiet life.'

'I don't blame you. It's paradise here. But you are going to have to factor in who you are into your equations. You can't run away from it. I'm really sorry, but you just can't now. It's too late.'

'So who am I?'

'Your mother's son.'

'My damn mother. It always comes back to her. Look Chara, two simple questions. Were those to guys this morning with Marcus? And, well the other question is a bit blunt.'

'Go on.'

'Why in the name of fuck are you here?'

Chara waited, sipped her wine and looked at me. Her eyes changed as I stared at her and I had the feeling she aged twenty years in front of me. The Picture of Dorian Grey entered my mind for a moment. 'Ok,' she said, and hesitated for a few moments. 'It doesn't really matter who you ran from this morning. You ran.'

'So they were with you?'

'It hardly matters now, does it?'

'Go on.'

'To your second question. I'm here to give you a chance to keep breathing Lang, as simple as that. As much as you want to deny it, fight it, or ignore it, you are who you are and there's no way out. You are the son of Melinoë and Kratos and therefore born Soter, and your destiny is to soon lead the Sons of Cleito – as I was born to love Soter. We both have no choice in this. For either of us, to deny our destiny will mean death.'

'I think we need more wine.'

'You were lucky Lang. You shouldn't have escaped alive. You can only thank a couple of fortunate misunderstandings, mistakes and luck for escaping with a broken nose.'

'And a fucked left hand,' I said, more bitterly than I had probably intended.

'And I'm lucky to be alive too. Remember that in all your fucking self-importance,' Chara said, with more than equal bitterness.

'I'm sorry.'

Chara stared deep into my eyes, sipped her wine, and said nothing. She didn't need to as her eyes told me all I needed to know. Either I accepted what ever it was that she wanted me to accept, or she, Marcus, and friends were going and I would be left to my own devices; and presumably then, with only The Few to contend with. That is, if The Few were real, and not simply a figment of her imagination; or propaganda. I sipped my wine and waited for our coffee as our silence challenged each other.

'Something for you to think about. Did you know that all nine current members of the United States Supreme Court attended Harvard or Yale, and the last member appointed to the court who wasn't a student at either was Sandra Day O'Connor? She was appointed by Ronald Reagan in nineteen eighty-one, and he was also the last United States President who did not attend either Harvard or Yale.'

'The two bit actor.'

'Maybe, but that was about his only small move against the oligarchy. He probably learned after that to toe the line. Look, all societies are inevitably oligarchies no matter the supposed political system, and they are all interlinked and organized; either by exclusive universities and or wealth, or by blood and family. Look at Bush and Putin. They were, and definitely still are the best of friends, both of whom still influence outside their political territories more that you could possibly imagine. Information is controlled by the oligarchy, and their blood brothers in the media and news channels are their mouthpiece and propaganda machine.'

'But there are elections.'

'That's really a bit naïve Lang. Sure, people think they are making decisions, but they only ever get to choose from those few who the oligarchy give them to choose from. In the end, democracy only gives people the right to vote for one, from a list that is owned and controlled by the oligarchy. Why do you think there are usually only two choices in most elections?'

'Harvard and Yale?'

'Or their equivalent. Yes.'

'So if this is true, it's impregnable.'

'All forces need a counter-force.'

'The Sons of Cleito?'

Chara only nodded, and then finished her coffee. I called for the bill and without a further word between us, collected our coats and left the restaurant for the short walk home. As we entered the street and she took my arm, I caught sight of Marcus a little distance ahead. Another cigarette butt added to the gutter, and he turned away from the direction we were heading. As we turned the last corner, just a few short steps from the entrance to my building, Chara quietly said, 'We should finish what we started tonight.'

'Without balaclavas and guns?' I asked, without looking at her. She didn't answer or turn to me, just held my arm a little tighter.

Moirai

I left Chara sleeping and took a shower before starting on preparing breakfast.

'You'd really make someone a good wife,' I heard behind me, as I was cutting a loaf of bread.

'Did you sleep well?' I asked, and turned to find Chara behind me, yawning and wrapped in my white towelling bath gown.

'Beautifully. The lack of balaclavas helped I think,' she smiled.

'Yes, I noticed their absence too,' I said, and she moved closer and put her arms around my neck. I put down the bread knife and turned a little to accept her embrace. Her eyes looked up at me and asked. My eyes answered her, without thought, and I kissed her.

'Again,' she said. I did.

'Hungry?' I asked.

'Very,' she replied, and pushed her body closer to mine.

My memory was vague, and perhaps it wasn't the first time I'd had sex in the kitchen, but it definitely was the first time that it was followed almost immediately by eating bread and marmalade, sitting naked on the floor, leaning up against kitchen cupboards. Chara smiled at me, in a childish manner, as she munched on her tartine, and wiped away sticky orange marmalade from her mouth with the back of her hand.

'I suppose there could be worse ways to start a Wednesday morning.'

'Actually, I couldn't think of any better way,' she said.

'And the rest of the day?'

'You probably don't have enough marmalade.'

'You're right about that, I think.'

Chara kissed my cheek. It was a sugary, sticky kiss.

The day proper started an hour or so later after we had both showered and I made coffee. Chara looked out of the window from the living room as I prepared the coffee and biscuits. Once I'd finished and taken the tray to the living room, she turned to me.

'Do you know about the Moirai?'

'No.'

'They were three. Clotho the spinner, Lachesis the allotter and Atropos the unturnable. They controlled the metaphorical thread of life of every mortal from birth to death. They were at the helm of necessity, directed fate, and watched that the fate assigned to every being by eternal laws took its course without obstruction.'

'And still do?'

'In spirit, yes.'

'As in Soter and Chara and not Langley Garret and Sandra Brennan?'

'Moirai means apportioners, or maybe simply fate. Do you know what your fate is?'

'Can I ask you first if you know yours?'

'Oh yes, very clearly. I am to lie with Soter and produce Sons of Cleito. The Daughters of Cleito are all fated to ensure that the lineage of living spirits, deities or even gods is continued from the creations of Chaos.'