The Veteran

Chapter Ten

I put the phone away and looked at Diego. "This is gonna be a rough one with her. Are you sure you're up for it? You know how she is." I said, thinking how angry Mary might get over what we were about to tell her.

"Bro, our options are limited, and in our current situation, only one will work," he said.

"I think we should save this conversation for the morning after breakfast. Doing this tonight might be too much, and I haven't slept for almost 24 hours."

"Go spend some time with her, amigo. I'll lock up and make sure we're secure."

I bid him goodnight and walked to the house. Everyone else, including the traitor dog, had gone to bed, and she was waiting in the kitchen for me. She walked to me as I came in and pulled me close. I allowed myself to relax and take in her scent. I loved the aroma of her hair, the soft wisps of coconut scent drifting about. I was more tired than I realized and started to fall asleep standing up, lost in the warmth of her embrace.

"Are you falling asleep on me?"

"Sorry, yeah. I'm mentally and physically wiped."

"Oh, come on, old man. Let's go to bed. We both need sleep."

I didn't even retort at the old man comment and followed her upstairs. After stripping down, I fell into a deep slumber in her arms, my mind quieting from the brief reprieve of peace.

I woke up at 0500, before everyone except Diego, who was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee when I came downstairs. I grunted, and he pointed to the half-full coffee pot.

"Been up long?" I asked, as I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter.

"Yeah, a little while. Since a little after 0400. Couldn't sleep. Kept thinking about Mac. We're getting too old for this shit, bro."

"I hear ya. I feel it every day. I feel like shit dragging you into this, Diego."

"What the fuck else would I be doing? Working on my cars? Even that shit gets old after a while. Albeit a fucked-up reason, it has been nice having you guys around here. I was in a rut anyway, so we're good, amigo."

"I'm going to step outside to smoke. Want to join me?"

"Sure, but I quit smoking a couple of years ago. Doc said it was fucking my lungs up. You need to quit that shit, man. Bad for ya!"

"Yeah, yeah, but something's gotta kill me. Might as well be of my own choosing. Mary hates it too, and the boys say I stink like an ashtray after I smoke, so I've been thinking about it hard. Ain't gonna happen now though."

"Hey, bro, that's all on you. I get it. If I was still smoking and someone told me to quit, I'd be like, hell no, not now, so you're not going to catch any shit from me."

Even if he said anything else, it wouldn't do any good to ask me to quit smoking. I was aware of the dangers and had considered doing the e-cigarette thing, which Mary had used, but I wasn't ready for it, at least not now.

The morning chill had settled in, the blackness enveloping the yard as we stepped on the porch. Jake, was outside and rose to greet me by the door, wagging his tail. I rubbed his head, and he leaned his body into me, letting his weight rest on my leg. Diego bent down to pet him, and Jake raised his upper lip in a snarl. That wasn't like him, but he had met Diego the night before.

"Stop, Jake. He's a friend," and I put my hand on Diego's shoulder and pulled him close.

Diego wasn't a person for close physical contact and pulled away, "What? Are you going to kiss me now?"

"Oh, fuck off, asshole. I was showing him you're a good guy. I could let him bite your nuts if it makes you feel better."

Diego shook his head and reached to pet Jake again. This time, Jake allowed Diego to pet him, but he was still cautious and kept his eye on him. It wouldn't take Jake long to warm up to him.

We talked for a couple of hours, catching up on old times, reminiscing about the military, reliving some past battles, and remembering friends lost. It was heartwarming to catch up with him, but the shroud of danger, which we didn't discuss, hung over us. We had lived this life before and were accustomed to being in dangerous situations. It had been our calling, separating us from the average person who went through life with blinders on. We were aware of the dangerous liaisons in which we were entrapped and would face them head-on like we had always done.

Left unspoken, Diego and I were keenly aware that Mary, the boys, and her parents were liabilities, but we had no choice but to include them in our equation. When we served, we minimized our liabilities, but this wasn't even a consideration. We had to make our plans around them, with the primary objective of keeping them safe. Everything else was secondary, even our own safety.

We walked to the barn, and he showed me his security system setup. He had cameras and sensors around the property and suggested I should put something similar in when we were settled. I couldn't agree more. The cameras, which had night vision capability, covered the property well, giving a full view around the house. One of the monitors showed that Mary was up and getting coffee in the kitchen. Other cameras covered the interior of the house, excluding the bedroom and bathrooms. I looked at Diego.

"We have to talk to her about this."

"Yeah, I know, and it'd be better if no one else were around. No offense, bro, but her parents are assholes."

"None taken and you're right, they are. The only reason I tolerate them is Mary and the boys. I'm sure the complained about me this whole time."

"Yeah, every damn day. The way they talk, you're Satan, but I know better. You're way worse." He laughed

"If they only knew," and I laughed with him.

I was dreading talking to Mary about the life changes we would need to make but couldn't afford to postpone it for long.

We talked about his setup, and he showed me the tunnel, which led to the safe room under the house. He had built it himself, not trusting any contractors to keep his secrets. It was well constructed, with steel-reinforced concrete walls, excellent lighting, and ventilation systems.

Diego told me he had bought the farm about five years prior, remodeling and fortifying the house, adding in a state-of-the-art security system, an underground safe room, and having a warehouse built for all the cars he collected. He didn't need to work with his V.A. disability and the under-the-table cash he made fixing and selling classic cars.

I rechecked the monitor and observed Mary pouring another cup of coffee. It was time. Her parents would soon be up, and I didn't want anyone eavesdropping on our conversation.

Diego and I went toward the house, and as I reached for the screen door, Mary stepped out. I was about to ask her to change everything, and I felt guilty, guilty about putting them in this situation, guilty I didn't walk away, guilty I was asking for her to give up her family, her friends, and even the life we had built over the past eight years together. Everything was about to change, and I almost hesitated in starting the conversation.

I pulled her close to me and hugged her, not wanting to let go.

"Well, hi there," she said, returning the hug, "What's all this about?"

"Just because. Diego and I have been outside talking."

"I notice you were gone and thought you might be outside talking."

Diego said he was heading to the barn and would meet us there. It snapped me back to the reality of the situation.

"We were. We were catching up on old times."

"What did he mean, meet us there?"

"Mary, let's take a walk to the barn. We need to talk about a few things, and I don't want your parents or the boys overhearing our conversation."

"Ok, but is the barn really necessary?"

"Yeah, you're probably not going to like what I'm going to say."

Her look turned to one of concern and worry. Whenever we had conversations in private, away from the boys, they often didn't go well. Most of the time, we worked things through, and I hoped this was one of those times.

Stepping into the barn, I asked her to take a seat, which for her, was a sign it was an important topic. I had a suspicion I was getting ready to open Pandora's box.

Diego was standing behind her. "Suave," pressing his hands toward the floor.

"Mary, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course, but what's all this secrecy stuff about?"

"You and the boys are the most important thing in this world to me."

"Yes, Yes. Of course," She was getting a little annoyed. "Where are you going with this? Are you leaving or something?"

"No, I'm not leaving, but what I'm about to say might change our lives permanently."

"Ok. I understand. It's important. Would you stop beating around the bush?"

"Before I do, I'm going to tell you everything that's happened, and I need you to listen before you respond. Ok?"

"Ok, I'll listen, but you told me I'm probably not going to like it, so don't be surprised."

It took the better part of an hour, and I explained all the events that occurred from the start, every little detail of all the conversations I had with the D.A, Agent Harper, Jones and his partners, Nataliy Michenkov, his henchmen, everything about the trip, Viktor, his wife and daughter, and the information we had on the Russians, including BelyyaPrava. I didn't tell her about the Russian agreement or the organization's proposal yet.

She sat in silence, and I could tell she was overwhelmed. She was a brilliant woman, but if she got too much input, she would shut down until her brain had a chance to process things. Diego gave me that worried look. I had told her the plain hard cold facts, and she was silent. Maybe I had told her too much.

Jake nuzzled his snout into her hand as if he was trying to get her to respond.

"I understand why you're telling me all this, but it's a lot to take in, and I have a lot of questions. I didn't realize how much had happened to you, so you're going to have to give me a few minutes. I'm going for a walk."

She stepped out of the barn, and Diego turned to me, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What do you think? How is she handling it?"

"I don't know yet. That'd be a lot for anyone to take in. I guess we'll wait and see."

I pulled my smokes from my pocket and lit one. Diego grabbed the bottle of Johnny Walker Red from the bench and offered me a drink. Under most circumstances, I would've said no, but this time, I accepted and sipped it down, feeling the burn as the oaky fragrance filled my nostrils, and warmth made its way to my stomach.

By the time Mary returned, Diego and I had finished our second drink. I was feeling a little more relaxed and waited for her to sit down. She didn't.

"Ok, I've thought about this, and I have some questions. What about the Russians? You said they would back off. You said they want you to do something and then they will leave us alone and help us with the Bely y...whatever they're called. Can't you just do it and then we can go back to our lives, like before?"

"Mary, it's not that simple. I don't think they'll uphold their end of the bargain. I won't trust them, no matter how many promises they make."

"How can you be sure about that?"

"They like to keep their people on a short leash, and I'm not comfortable with what they want me to do. I don't want to be some errand boy for the Russian mob, regardless of how they say they'll take care of us."

"What do they want you to do?"

Now came the bomb I didn't want to drop.

"They want me to make a federal witness disappear," I said and waited.

"What do you mean by disappear?"

"I have to make that person go away somehow. I have a meeting sometime in the next few days with Nataliy Michenkov to go over the details, at which point, I will be committed to what they want me to do. I won't be able to turn back."

"Go away, as in kill?" Now her expression had turned to a mixture of fear and anger, realizing it might be the truth.

"If need be, Mary, then yes, but I really want to avoid that."

I had killed six people in the last week, and before this was all over, I feared the body count would rise.

"What would happen if you refuse or don't do it? Tell them you'll do another favor, John. Work something out, so you don't have to kill anyone else."

"Mary, it doesn't work that way. The Russians don't negotiate. They don't have to. The only reason we're still alive is that I agreed to do this."

"You what?" she raised her voice, "You fucking agreed to do this, John? What were you thinking?

Here it goes. I knew it would escalate from here.

"I was thinking about you, the boys, your parents, Diego, Viktor, and his family. I was thinking about saving all our lives, and I wasn't in a position to negotiate. They would've killed us if I hadn't agreed. I said what I had to say so they would back off, and we would be alive until we could come up with a plan."

"John, can't you talk to them, reason with them?"

"No, I can't. These people don't bargain, and they don't listen to reason. These are some horrible people who will even kill their own people for not doing what they want. We mean nothing to them. If I don't do what they want, they will kill us and find someone else to do the job. I don't want to do this, and I'm trying to find a way out."

"But they're the mafia, John. Don't they have a code of honor or something like that?"

"No. That's in the movies. They don't honor shit, except for themselves."

"Let's say you do kill this witness. Won't they protect us then? Wouldn't they honor their end of the bargain?"

"No, I doubt it. They are not 'honorable' people. No code of ethics unless you're family, and we're not their family and never will be."

"Can't you do something, John? Something you can agree to?"

Never having dealt with these types of people, her logic was failing her. She couldn't understand the gravity or risks associated with dealing with the Russian Mafia. She couldn't wrap her head around their methods.

I glanced at Diego, silently asking for his help.

"Look," he said, saving me, "The Russians are just like the Colombian cartels. The cartels force people to do things for them and then, to make sure there are no witnesses, they kill them or make them disappear, even members of their own cartel. My parents witnessed it firsthand. They killed my uncle after he did a favor for them. Their job was to protect the organization and the people who ran it, not everyone in it. The Colombian cartels have a lot more honor than the Russians."

Diego could have been lying through his teeth, but it seemed to help.

"Ok, so if you've made this agreement, and don't want to do it, what are the other options?" She appeared to be calming down.

"I haven't told you everything, and this is going to be the hardest pill for you to swallow. You remember me telling you about Jones and his partners?"

"Yes, doesn't he work for QuickBuy? He's the one who gave us the reward, right?"

"Yes and no. They work as consultants for QuickBuy, for the moment."

"What do you mean by consultants?"

"They fix problems for companies and influential people and" I hesitated, "for governments when the need arises."

"What do you mean 'they fix problems' and how do they fix them?"

"I'll tell you everything. They're an international organization that fixes problems when the scope of the problem is outside the authority or capability of the government, company or person. And what I mean by fixing them is they take whatever means necessary to eliminate the problem. They are powerful and have their fingers in a lot of stuff around the world."

"You mean they kill people. What makes them different from the Russians? Killing people is still killing people, John. I don't care what you want to call it. Killing is killing."

I couldn't argue with that logic.

"Here's the big difference. Unless we cross them, the chances of them killing us are significantly reduced. Plus, they will provide us with protection no one, not even Diego or Viktor or the other guys can offer. That's not including a substantial salary and a lot of perks. Our boys would be safe; your parents would be safe. Everyone would be safe, Mary, and I mean everyone."

"I don't like any of these options. Can't we run and hide somewhere? Can't you call someone and we can move, take the boys with us and leave?"

"No, we can't. It's not that simple. We would be on the run, looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives, wondering when it was coming. There's no one else we can turn to, and the Russians will use anyone against us, and I mean anyone. I don't want that kind of life for us. Running is not an option."

I could tell it was hitting her hard and she was even more scared now and began to cry, the full weight of our situation sinking in. I pulled her to her feet and wrapped my arms around her. "John," she sobbed, "what are we going to do?"

I put her face in my hands and made her look at me, "We have only one option. This is the part that is going to change our lives forever, but if we are to live, if your parents are to live, if everyone we care about is to live, we need to do this. Do you understand?"

"Yes, John, I understand" as she started to calm down, "What do we need to do?"

Now came one of the most challenging things I would ever ask of her and along with it, one of the hardest decisions of my life. I had to ask my wife to give up everything she had ever known for an unknown anonymous life with me.

"Let's sit down."

I motioned her toward the chair, pulled my chair closer, and leaned in.

"Mary, the organization that offered me a job, wants to help us with our Russian and skinhead problem."

She looked confused, "I thought you said no one could help us, that we were on our own?"

"That's entirely a hundred percent true," I said, "they can and are willing to help us, but there's a huge caveat. A life-changing caveat."

She stared at me, and I could see the realization in her eyes. Any help from anyone would come at a cost.

"What do we have to do?"

"We die. "We give up our names, identities, friends, family, and everything about us and we become someone else."

Her voice rocketed. "What? What do you mean die? Lose everything, as in everything? You can't be serious. Tell me you're joking. I can't give up my family. I won't. We can't do that."

I was prepared for her reaction.

"Mary, I need you to listen. This would work like the Federal Witness Relocation Program, except it's not run by the federal government. Nobody but the organization and we would know, to protect us."

I glanced at Diego again, and he chimed in, right on time.

"Mary, consider what they can do, your Russian problem will go away, your skinhead problem will go away, John will have a steady job, and you and the boys will be safe. No more running, no more hiding. Yeah, it sucks having to give it all up, but I prefer you all were alive and out there somewhere, rather than lying dead on the grounds of my farm. Who knows, maybe in time, after this all blows over, you can reestablish contact with your family."

I gave Diego a hand across the throat sign. He had done a great job of filling in, but this was going too far. I didn't want her getting any false hopes, although deep in my head, I was formulating ideas on how to make that happen.

"Mary, I think what Diego's trying to say is that this is our best and only choice, now."

"I love you, but please don't patronize me. I know what's at stake here. I don't like it, and I certainly don't agree with it, but I guess I don't have a choice but to accept it, do I?"

"Not really. Before any of this happens, I have to take care of a few things. After that, we can start preparing for this. You can't say anything to your parents, not the boys, not anyone. I need to hear you say it."

"I won't say a word to anyone, I promise," was her reply.

She wasn't happy. We had beaten this dead horse into the ground, and it was close to 7:00 A.M.

Jake had been quiet the entire time, observing us, but he came to his feet and bolted to the door, and started growling. That meant one thing. Someone was outside. Diego grabbed the MP5 from the bench, and I went to the storage cabinet and pulled out the trusted AK Victor had given me. I was still carrying my pistol. I checked to make sure a round was chambered and reholstered it.

Diego killed the lights to the barn, and we waited. In the heat of our discussion, we had let our guard down. There were no vehicles sounds, which meant whoever it was, came in on foot. The door opened, and I saw a silhouette against the rising sun and almost fired.

"Mary?" Jean asked.

Damn it, had she heard us?

"Diego, lights."

The lights in the barn flared to life, and I looked at Jean. She had tears in her eyes. She had heard, at least enough.

"Mom, what did you hear?" Mary asked.

"Enough, honey. I heard enough."

Motherfucker. This is not going well.

"Jean, I need you to pay attention. What I'm about to tell you is serious, deadly serious."

Jean didn't know anything about the situation other than what Diego and Mary had told her, and it wasn't much. She was a liability at this point.

I looked at Jean. "Is Frank up?"

"No, he's still sleeping."

"Good, because I need your undivided attention and I need you to understand a few things. Our very lives; yours, Frank's, Mary's and the boys', all depend on you doing exactly what I say. Do you understand?"

When Mary and I first got together, Jean was angry. I had taken away her golden child. The one who was supposed to take the world by storm and I had warped her, changed her into my little minion, as Jean had once said. She had run several background checks on me, requested my military record, which was about 80% redacted, and contacted anyone she could to get information on me. She found out things she didn't want to know but knew my background was legitimate.

"Yes, John, I understand."

I spent the next hour explaining everything again, this time with Mary's help, which helped to smooth the path. If I had to do it by myself, arguments would've ensued, but Mary knew how to handle her mother. Crying, yelling and accusations ensued, most of them thrown at me. I didn't want to tell her, but if she knew a little, she would need to know everything.

My concern was she wouldn't keep quiet about it with Frank. He had always been the shit-pot stirrer in our relationship, attempting to talk Mary into the "just come home and all will be forgiven" bit, but Mary had not budged. It was during one major blow up, because of me, that she put her father in his place. She told him that if he didn't back off, he wouldn't be allowed to see the boys. That was something he couldn't handle, and he acquiesced. After that, the awkwardness never went away, even between the two of them, but he would not do or say anything, except the occasional snide comment, in fear of alienating us and not being able to see his grandsons, whom he adored. I hated that he felt that way, but it was his choice to act the way he did. He had to live with himself.

"Jean, I need you to be crystal clear on what can, and more than likely will happen if anyone and I mean anyone, finds out about what is going to happen. Mary, me, and the boys will be killed, and then you, Frank, and anyone you care about."

"This is not a game. This is not some spy novel. The good guys don't win in the end. These people are dangerous, each in their own way, and none of them, considering what they do, will hesitate to kill us. We are choosing the better of the two, the one that gives us the best chance at survival. The one shot that will ensure the boys enjoy a long and healthy life. Am I clear? Do you fully understand what could happen if anyone finds out?"

Her reply was a simple yes.

I wasn't sure how I was going to handle the next twenty-four hours. I was just an Average Joe that owed the Russian mob a favor, and they were coming to collect.