MAXIMUS

 

"OK...let's run over this..." Terry Thorne sat back in his chair and swiveled round. He looked the worse for wear. It was nine thirty on the morning after his celebration and he had certainly burnt the candle at both ends the night before. By that I mean both ends- he had drunk like a fish and, so rumour had it, made his way through all the Sisters who were interested. I wondered how she felt about that, especially at this time? But that is their problem - as his evident hangover is now his.

The meeting was short and to the point. There was little discussion - they accepted my assessment and the rest of the session was spent on practical matters. They are a very professional team with excellent connections; it only took a few telephone calls for them to put together several helicopter teams, ground assault troops and open a dialogue with the governments in question. I was amazed at the speedy progress made with modern technology and their particular brand of expertise.

"This contact...and I don't mean the 'photographer'- is he reliable? Could he go undercover? We need someone on the ground to get to work immediately on Prtic. Follow him and see if he can get a fix on where Granosovic is being held..." O'Leary began.

"He is a she."

"What?" Thorne picked up on that one straight away. "You using Karolina? I gave you her name to get you started, not to have her running risks for you..."

I faced him out but he didn't pursue it. He's lying anyway. She had already told me that she and Thorne had been working together in the bad old days in Bosnia when she had been with the freedom fighters. He had had no qualms about using her as a driver then.

We parted company a few hours later. It was decided that I should return to Dubrovnik by the evening flight and that O'Leary would follow the day after, using the jet to bring him in, remaining incognito. We would not have any overt contact with each other; I would busy myself with a return to the negotiations while using my local contact as a liaison between O'Leary and the rest of the team.

My priority was to act as if this was a simple hostage situation and that I had no other concerns. The longer I protracted and kept them on the hook, the more chance we had of prolonging Granosovic's life. It was more than likely that the criminals involved hoped to both secure the ransom and kill their victim- the rising figure of the negotiated price would perhaps give them pause.

It was not a position I particularly liked to find myself in. I am primarily a man of action, not words, and my instinct was to be in the field rather than at the end of a receiver in a hotel room. But I am a realist; my cover was established and if I involved myself in any other activity, I could be sure that someone would notice me. I was not fool enough to think I wasn't being shadowed day and night.

The flight back was a late night one and I had most of the day on my hands. I returned to my hotel room and tried to catch some sleep, but it would not come. The events of the night before were replaying themselves before my eyes. Ann. Something was happening and I was not sure that it was what she really wanted, or needed, and at times the whole affair was beginning to take on the shape of a runaway horse. Who would have imagined that we would have found ourselves in such a place after the way we had begun? Only time will tell where we will end up but I hold out little hope for myself. I am fated never to be on the receiving end of love, of this I am now sure. But there are those who care about me and feel affection and I must content myself with that.

My thoughts strayed to Uma. I smiled despite myself. She always makes me smile even when I am tearing at my flesh in rage at her vacillation. She looked beautiful and serene last night where I had expected her to be frantic and hyperactive. Whoever knows what to expect with her? Most of all she looked happy and content. He makes her happy and content. But she still harboured a little jealousy when she read Ann's diaries. What does that mean? A chink of light? A gleam of hope? Or is it time to lay that particular ghost forever?

I looked at my watch: three thirty. I ought to shower and change, eat something and then make arrangements to leave for the airport. Stripping, I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, stepping in and longing for the comfort of a bathhouse and a slave to knead my weary muscles. I still find bathing alone a solitary pursuit. Cleansed, I wrapped a towel around my waist and rang room service to send up something plain- a steak would suffice with a half bottle of wine. My cell phone rang.

"Max?"

"Uma?"

"Em...I wondered if you still had the same number..." She sounded hesitant, nervous.

"Yes. Obviously. Can I help you?" I grimaced at my own formality.

"Em...I just wanted to say goodbye and take care. Terry said you were going back. I just thought I'd call and tell you." It was clear that she was rambling, a sure sign of her unease. It saddened me that we who had once shared so much should feel so uncertain together now.

"That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you for your concern. And thank you for the evening. It was a very pleasant occasion."

"Oh, it was nothing and you missed most of it. I'm glad you came though. It was good to see you and...it wouldn't have been right without you. You are still the man, you know? We all think that inside. Even if we don't always show it." I was touched by her declaration. She sounded young and a little forlorn. I wondered if she was sad or just tired.

"Thank you, Uma. Keep well and look after yourself. Eat properly! You are still too thin. You have your man now, grow fat and happy with him. That is the way of the world."

"Max?" Her voice suggested she wanted to say something of importance.

"Yes?"

"Nothing really... I just love the sound of your voice. I always did." It was clear that she had thought better of it. It was probably wiser.

"Goodbye, Uma."

"Goodbye, Max. Take care."

I heard the receiver replaced and imagined her sitting in her hallway and what her expression might be. Was he at home with her? He must be, she knew about our meeting. I thought of her joining him in the study, curling up against him in that way she has when she just wants reassurance. It always reminded me of a little child with a parent. She may be an experienced woman with a stormy past but her innocence is still a constant in her. Some people are always like that no matter what life throws at them. I prayed for the blessed Mother to keep her safe in her care.

The food arrived, I ate my meal. An hour later I was in a cab to the airport on another dreary rainy night. I steeled myself as I have so often done for the job ahead. But I still could not shift the cloak of loneliness that seemed to swirl about me. I seemed to be even more solitary than ever.

 

 

DINO

For so many years, I have trained for action that most sane people would run from. Does it make me insane that every single time I am entering into a new mission, I get excited to be putting into play the skills I've spent years attaining and honing?

One thing I've learned is that just as I'm entering into a mission like the one in Croatia is that I need to take the time just as I'm about to leap into the case to stop and remember to use my excitement rather than letting it run away with me. So I was sitting there on the jet, knowing this was the last solitary moment I'd have before jumping into this mission, to collect myself and prepare to lead people on something that would risk their lives.

The jet was parked at the small hangar for twenty minutes before Rob, the pilot, finally came back to where I sat.

"Boss?" he said and I looked up sharply at him. "Were you getting off anytime soon?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Keep your fucking pants on," I grumbled at him.

I caught his grin and realized the words had come out as they should have. Took me a few more minutes to gather my papers up and stuff them in the briefcase that held my laptop. Then Rob helped me cart luggage and the bits of equipment I'd brought with me. When they were stored in the car that had come to get me, I climbed in next to the driver for the trip into the safe house we'd be using as the center of operations for the covert part of this mission.

Max was staying out in the open to conduct the negotiations. The team was already assembling at the safe house. This team was going to be a mixture of locals Max was using and specialists I was bringing in.

On the way into the safe house, the driver and I traded small talk for about the first fifteen minutes. My Serbo-Croat is passable but it always takes me a bit of time to adjust to speaking in a language I don't use near as often as Spanish and English. But in short order, I felt the ease sink back in.

We'd talked the weather; she'd told me which team members were on site already; she'd told me that Max was going to shake any tails following him and come in for the meeting we were having that night so I could be briefed on the status of any new developments since we'd spoken in London and so we could start planning the recovery operation.

I didn't hide my study of her. Part of me was simply evaluating her and remembering the dossier Terry had put together on her. Another part of me was, frankly, admiring her looks and the way she carried herself.

She had black, curvy hair that fell just below her shoulders. Her dark eyes seemed attentive and sharp to everything going on around us. Okay, so I didn't fail to note that she was a looker. Good, trim body to go along with that attractive and sensitive face. She was deferential but not subservient. Her tone of voice was deceptive ... I had the sense that although she was sounding very businesslike, there was an edge there that bespoke a certain unease.

"You must be Karolina?" I finally asked her and she turned instantly to glance at me, her mouth first seeming to open in shock and then to purse with suspicion. "Thorne speaks highly of you. He told me about your husband. Sounds like he was a great man."

Her eyes looked me over. I got the feeling that I passed her approval but only because I'd brought up Terry's name. But that's how it is in such work. You earn your trust the hard way ... but once you trust someone, you're going to trust in the people they trust. So, we started off pretty well.

"Max ... Maximus said he would be there to meet with you by 9," she finally said.

I caught it. That slip from the informal name to the formal. And I also caught the way she clipped that voice off. I remembered what Max had said about his 'intense' liaison with a local. There had been something about it when he'd said it that way. I'd made a mental note of it. And when he admitted it was Karolina who'd been the one to help him track the traitor Prtic meeting with my old buddy Mladen Naletilic ... well, let's just say that I'd been a bit suspicious as to whether or not it was Karolina that Max had been intensely liaisoning with and if by 'intense' he meant sex.

Somehow, all it took was her tone of voice when she said his name ... I knew something personal was between them. Ah, Max, I sighed inside; at least you have good taste.

At the safe house, the team members there were pouring over maps and checking equipment lists. We were so far into it that we barely noticed Max's arrival. I only took note of him because of Karolina, who was across the table from me and explaining about the layout of Naletilic's main compound and why she didn't think there was anyway that he had Granosovic there. She was in the middle of making a point, showing me some real in-depth knowledge on this gang run by the man known as Tuta. I was looking up at her because she frankly impressed the hell out of me. So I saw the way her eyes widened as she looked over my head. And I didn't miss that little glare she did.

I was just surprised it was Max she was looking at.

But you couldn't have told anything by Max. He was impassive and had this hard, blank expression. His body language was in many ways deferential to me but there was also a reserve there that told me he was still needing me to prove that I trusted in him.

And I did. I valued the kind of operative he was turning out to be. We gathered the group around us and I went through the drill. We needed to have ourselves ready to go in and rescue the hostage. But first, we needed to know exactly where he was being held. There were three places that several of the people on Max's local team suggested -- all were strongholds of Tuta's gang. But Karolina seemed firmest in her estimation of it being the one near this small town of Sali on the island of Dugi Otok in the Kornati Straights, an island chain off Zadar, north of Dubrovnik.

"Karolina, you seem to have the best handle on Tuta's whereabouts. You got any special connections in Sali, because we're going to need to send someone in to ..."

"Sending her in is a mistake," Max broke in, his voice dismissing this option before I'd even explored it.

I noted the sharp look she gave him and that instant flush of anger on her face. Max simply looked at me impassively.

"Your opinion's noted, Max. Let me just ask a few questions." I looked at Karolina. "So, Karolina, any connections there? One of us needs to go in there without it being detected what we're up to. We need to have clear evidence they've got him there. And we need the lay of the compound."

"I have a cousin who lives there. He runs the tavern. I could go visit him and I am sure I can pick up things if I hang around the tavern," she said, her eyes flashing at me. I could see she was upset by Max's statement but wasn't exactly sure I knew what was going on. Still, she wasn't going to take his assessment lying down, that was obvious.

"It is far too dangerous for a woman to take on such a task," Max said. This time, he was looking at the map and avoiding my eyes. "Besides, she does not have the necessary skills to accomplish this aspect of our mission. And this is much too critical to send anyone but our best in."

I knew the train wreck was coming. She might have been relatively calm up to this point, but as he spoke, you could see the steam rising.

"You know nothing of my true skills," she said hotly, turning to face him. "I have been engaging in this type of activity far longer than you, Maximus. How dare you insult me in this manner? I have faced far greater danger than something like this and I have never failed to do my duty by my comrades."

He looked up at her and I noted the way his body tensed. Little tic at his eye ... a telling sign that he was controlling his emotions but finding it increasingly difficult. "You are still a member of my team," he said softly, the very softness not hiding the way it had made him feel for her to challenge him in that way. His voice was issuing a warning to her. "This is my call."

"Max." I said his name and gave him the slightest shake of my head to cut off any response from him. I was careful not to challenge him out in the open in front of the local team he'd been working with. There was no way I was going to undermine his authority in front of them. But I needed to dial this down until Max and I could discuss it in private.

"She is not prepared for this."

I nodded slowly at him. "I understand your input. Why don't we drop it for now until you and I can discuss it in private?"

"This is ridiculous. I will not be spoken of in this manner!" She backed away from the table and I watched as she turned to her other team members, seeking support. None would meet her eyes. She turned to look at Max. Mixed in with her fury and feeling of betrayal, I saw in her eyes definite signs of the pain she was feeling.

I knew everything then. I knew just what was going on between them. But before I could figure out a way to calm her down, she was out the door. No one said a thing in the wake of her departure and we all heard her car engine rev up. I listened as she drove off.

I asked the rest of the team to clear out so Max and I could go over a few matters. When they left the room and I heard them heading up the stairs to the bedrooms, I poured Max and I both a few fingers of scotch.

Waited in silence to see if he'd start the conversation. I'd still be waiting.

"So, Max." It came out soft. He wouldn't look at me. "Look, we've all been there before. You and Karolina ... it's not a mistake I haven't made before."

"There was no mistake."

I sighed at him. Damn his pride. "Yeah? So it was a good idea for you to fuck her and an even better idea for you to dump her once Annie came for the visit? Yeah, Max. That always works especially when it's someone you have to work with later."

His eyes came to mine and they were blazing in anger. But his face was as impassive as it had been. "Whatever has happened between us, is between us. I have not compromised this mission and that, Dino, is all that should be of importance to you."

"Don't be such an ass. Of course there's another matter here. And that is this ... we need her, Max, and we can't afford to just dump her because she's become inconvenient to you. She's the best one we can send in there. She'd have the best cover of any of the rest of the group. She knows more about this gang than anyone else. And I suspect you'd agree with sending her in if you weren't being such a dickhead to compensate for having dumped her. It might be uncomfortable for you to be working with her now, but that's tough shit. The mission comes first."

He drew his body up and I recognized this stance. This was his 'I'll do what you want only because you're the boss but I want to be sure you know I think you're a fucking idiot' stance.

"She is ill-equipped for this type of mission. Ask Thorne if you truly believe I am reading her abilities the wrong way to compensate for some issue you believe is between us. He only used her as a driver, he said. He was not pleased that I had used her in riskier information gathering roles. He will not approve of ..."

"Terry's not calling the shots here, Max. I am. And unless you can tell me one other member of your team who can get in that town and get us the information ..."

"There is another. Startic. He is from that area. He was unable to be here tonight for our meeting as he is tailing Prtic until tomorrow afternoon. I will contact him and arrange for him to meet with us here."

"All right. That seems reasonable. I'll have one of the others get the word to Karolina. I'd like her in that meeting as well. Don't give me that look. We need her input. And if it turns out that she's still the best one to send in undercover, then that's what we'll do. And Max? If we do, you will support my decision. Understood?"

His jaw worked. That muscle there jumped. But he still nodded at me.

He knew what I meant. If I made a decision, for the sake of our mission, the team had to believe Max and I were of one mind. They couldn't sense that there was dissension between us or it risked planting doubts in their minds.

And that's important on any operation but in something like this where we were never going to have as much time as we'd wish we could have to prepare, it would be critical that everyone act without any question of the rightness of the orders they were given.

 

 

MAXIMUS

Discipline is an inbuilt trait- it comes naturally to few. All my adult life I had struggled with my innate stubbornness and the sense that bedevils me that I am the only one who can truly be master of my fate. It was an inconvenient facet of my personality when I climbed the ranks - although I suspect that it contributed in some ways to the fact that I stood out where others merged colourlessly into the background. When it counted, I would think for myself - and even a machine like a legion needs men with vision to turn the tide when the odds seemed stacked against them.

My natural tendency to take charge and command was rearing never more so than those early days back in Dubrovnik. I was unhappy with the inclusion of Karolina on our team and O'Leary presumed that this was something to do with some residual emotional attachment I might have felt towards her or even that I was unwilling to come face to face with a woman whom I had used and discarded.

None of this was the actually the case, but it is impossible to make such men see how my mind works. My reasons for disagreeing were simple and obvious to me. I do not wish to work with women. Their place is not in the front line. They have enough to contend with in their lives without forcing upon them the role of a man as well. I do not understand this tendency of modern men to expect women to be all things. Apart from anything else, it does not appear to me to always be applied- O'Leary and Thorne were quick enough to criticise Ann's presence here with me. Would Thorne countenance Uma anywhere near the remotest chance of harm? I do not think so. Then why is Karolina suddenly more expendable than other women? It is not I who am the heartless one in this - that woman has a child who could be orphaned if matters went wrong- at best she has to live here amongst these people when we are long gone. Has O'Leary not contemplated what her fate might be?

But I must obey and wash my hands of guilt. I am no longer the general. The responsibility no longer devolves on me. The blood of countless other lives is not my concern. I follow orders and do my job. And that is how I spent the following days.

Negotiations continued. They were watching me and knew of my return- contact was swiftly reestablished and new frequencies delivered. I went back to the tiresome game of tit for tat. This time I waved a carrot before their eyes. I had been to London to speak to bankers - why lie about my trip? They must have had some inkling of where I had been. A substantial sum was being transferred from offshore banks to cover the cost of the ransom. It appeared that the upper limit they had sought was now a possibility but my people would require some further assurances that the Minister was still alive. The current Proof of Life was out of date. I wanted a recent one and this time more than a simple snap shot with a newspaper for a date. I required audio-visual record - a film of Granosovic- to establish that he was both unhurt and well treated.

The advantage of such a piece, of course, was to enhance our chances of using high resolution equipment to pinpoint his whereabouts. There are a myriad clues hidden in such films which reveal sound or pictorial evidence that experts can analyse. Don't ask me to explain - I am way above my head already - that is not my forte and probably never will be. But then, I doubt many of them could hit a moving target with a spear between the eyes at a few hundred paces or bridge a fast flowing river in a few hours with nothing but wood, rope, pickaxes and manpower. Each to his own.

I was concerned that my seeming sudden bout of generosity (where I had been stringent on reducing the ransom earlier) might cause them some suspicion, but they were lured into my trap. These men might be rough street fighters who were not to be discounted in open battle- I imagined they were fearsome warriors capable of great acts of bravery and recklessness in an area where life had become cheap and pride in their martial skill was all most of them had- but they were not professionals in the arts of intrigue and diplomacy. Their greed would be their downfall. It is always thus with barbarians; and often enough the same with the civilised races - for how few of them can forego the allure of wealth and power at the expense of their honour? I still remember Quintus' betrayal and how that had wounded me. We had been companions for years- I believed him my closest friend- how naïve even powerful generals can be to the workings of another man's mind.

So they took the bait and I continued my solitary task, nights spent in long negotiations, days in meetings at the Ministry where bureaucrats raised petty objections to the price of their master's life. I wondered how many others there were privy to the plot or whether it was merely the desire to take his place that was driving their vacillation.

My contact with the others was minimal until I received the proof that we had asked for. It was lying on the seat of my car early one morning. A digital film. With some difficulty I managed to set it up in my room and watched the moving image on my laptop. The setting seemed to be a patio of a house or hotel- there were several wrought iron tables and sunshades and the wall behind was of whitewashed stone such as is common in the Adriatic by the sea. Granosovic looked gaunt and haggard but there were few signs of any real injuries; most of his wounds were psychological and I knew that he would have worked out long ago that his fate was set and all this was merely delaying tactics. He looked out already with the eyes of a dead man.

He spoke to the camera calmly and read out the statement that had been prepared for him. He was a brave man; his voice never wavered. At the end he added a few words of love for his wife and children before he was rudely interrupted. It sounded like a farewell. I hoped that we could save him.

I called Karolina on a scrambled frequency. She answered tersely but we made a rendezvous- she would take the POL to the others. I was being watched, so we decided that it was better to be open and make no pretence of hiding. She was a local girl whom I was sleeping with now and again; it would not raise much attention. She gave the name of an expensive Italian restaurant near the harbour- it was very select and exposed. She laughed a rather brittle laugh- "You can charge it. I can eat well for once. At least you are good for something." I cleared my throat but did not venture a reply. Let her have her little victory; if she hated me, so much the better. It would make it easier in the long run for her to forget her infatuation.

I walked into the elegant sea front establishment and saw that she had taken a private table on the upper floor overlooking the room. We could be seen but also see everyone who entered. She was a shrewd operator. Her hair was down in a glorious thick cascade around her comely shoulders; she was dressed for evening- a dark red gown with tiny straps that hugged her generous bosom and fell in folds around her slender body, a shimmering wrap placed seductively around. She turned her dark eyes on me and I felt the spark of lust ignite- but I forced it down. Never again. I would not encourage her or lead her further. She was too vulnerable and I was not interested in more than what her body had to offer mine. And that I could get in any brothel later.

She rose when I ascended the wooden stairs to the overhanging balcony, I came across and kissed her lightly; she stiffened to my touch. "Karolina, you look beautiful tonight."

"I know," she replied dismissively. "I'm hungry, let's order."

We gave our choices and played our game of pretend. She let me take her hand and appear to stroke it; in fact I slipped the small disk into her palm and she deftly pocketed it in her small evening purse. I lit her cigarette and brushed a strand of hair back from her face as a lover might do. She trailed her fingers down my cheek and stroked my leg with her naked foot. I caught her eye; there was mockery there, too. She ran her bare toes to rest on my groin beneath the cloth. I faked a smile and whispered for her to remove it. She threw her head back and laughed. "Men. You are all so pathetic. You think you are the ones with all the answers and yet you are nothing but slaves to your cocks. You think you took advantage of me and cast me aside when your American woman showed up? It was I who used you. I seduced you to my bed and got what I wanted from you. I want nothing more. I don't even like you. And yet you cannot help yourself. Can you?" She pressed her slim foot harder against my genitals and I found myself struggling against the natural urge to harden.

My hand shot down and held her ankle. "Then why are you so bitter? If I successfully danced to your tune then it should be you who is the one to back away. Don't make a fool of yourself. It is over and we are both relieved. We both got what we wanted. Be content with that." I knew my words were harsh but it was better this way. She will harbour no false hopes.

She withdrew her leg and threw back her head, that wild temper flashing in her eyes. She was a beautiful woman; it would have been easy to love her. "Go to hell, you bastard!" she muttered but smiled. We kept up the pretence and ate like lovers, feeding each other tidbits, gazing into each other's eyes, touching each other intimately. But our words, had they been broadcast, made lies of our body language. As soon as the meal was complete, she indicated that she was ready to leave. I settled the bill; we left, wrapped up in each other and I led her to my car. It was comparatively easy to temporarily lose my tail and drop her where her car was hidden underneath a secluded archway. I returned to the hotel underground car park and presumably to take her to my bed, while she made her escape to deliver the evidence to Dino and the others. It was successful night's work but it left a trace of something bitter in my mouth.

 

 

DINO

When it happened, it was with a suddenness that never surprised me. I'd been at this too long.

We got the analyst's report back on the proof of life; all it did was confirm what Max's local contacts had said we'd find. Both Startic and Karolina had already noted that the setting in which Granosovic had been filmed seemed to be in Tuta's compound near Sali. But the analyst did further work to give us the final pieces of the puzzle. From the sounds, the shadows, the lighting and background noises none of us would have ever heard, we knew where he was. Or rather ... where he had been up until two days prior.

Seven of us huddled around the detailed maps of island of Dugi Otok in the Kornati Straights. Karolina pointed out the ease with which Tuta's men could get from Sali, on that island, to the smaller and very private island of Mugdi where Tuta's compound was secured.

Startic took us through the layout as he knew it. He'd just returned from a flyover we'd chanced courtesy of the chopper pilot I'd brought in from Italy for this mission. We weren't going to be able to get away with a second flyover so Startic's accounts combined with the high-res photos he'd taken were going to be invaluable.

Max took it all in. Every so often, our eyes met. I was trying to get him to give me a little indication of where his mind was, what he might have wanted to offer as strategy. But he said nothing and each time our eyes met, he simply seemed to be waiting.

We took a break while I started figuring out how our teams would be set up. I wanted Max leading one unit, I'd lead another and ... I wanted Max's advice on who among his local guys could lead the third team that would provide the distraction. When I went looking for him, I found him and Karolina in the kitchen. Tension rippled in the air and she whirled around and charged at me like I'd become a real target.

Christ. The fire in those eyes. The volatility in her body. This was not the woman I had expected in reading Terry's dossier on her. Terry had described her as smart, devious and a team player. He never even hinted at this side to her.

I looked to Max, hoping for some unspoken guidance. All I saw in him was that tic he gets in his eye that is his 'give' -- his tell tale that he's worked up and ready to explode except that his iron will won't ever allow that to happen.

"You cannot do this to me, O'Leary," Karolina stormed at me. "Max has turned you against me. It is not anything but his own masculine pride that makes him wish to have you think I cannot handle this. Think of what this says to the other members of our team. They will think me a weak woman, not to be trusted again."

"I'm not exactly sure what Max has told you," I said, hesitant to appear to be challenging Max's authority with his team. "Max?"

"I have tried to explain to Karolina that it will be Startic who goes in to conduct the final surveillance," Max said.

Shit. Fuck. Fuck! We'd never discussed that. I wasn't even sure yet what we'd be doing to set up the final look-see we'd need to determine exactly which area in the villa we'd target for our first assault to find the victim.

"Karolina, would you give Max and me some time to plan our strategy? This isn't really even an issue yet, so ..."

"No! You will decide. Now! I insist. I will accept nothing less," Karolina cried, her angry voice sounding rough and jagged.

I looked between the two of them. Caught between a rock and a hard place. In my mind raced a bunch of variables but what it came down to was this ... loyalty and trust is a two-way street. I either trusted in Max or I didn't. If I trusted in him, then I owed him loyalty in this moment.

"You're out. Sorry, Karolina, but Max would never make this kind of decision based on whatever personal disagreements you have. He's making it based on his assessment of you as an operative and on what this mission will entail. I trust his judgment on this." When I said it, Max's eyes dropped to the floor and he took in a deep breath. After Karolina stormed from the room, Max walked to me, shook my hand and something passed between us in that moment.

Here I admit the truth. I believed even then that Max might have been making the decision with his dick instead of his brain. But I trusted him. And one woman operative was about to be sacrificed to gain a measure of trust between Max and me that would be needed in the coming days.

There was a change in Max at that point. Together, we talked strategy. For once, he was willing to engage in a real discussion, allowing me to probe his reasoning while he was willing to poke holes in mine. Between us, we crafted the final plan. In that time, I learned a bit about the mind he hides in there -- the way he instinctively thinks ahead to the probable outcomes and designs a strategy to take him to where he wants the outcomes to be to his advantage while he still formulates counterplans for unexpected circumstances. You can plan all you want for a mission like this but if you cannot allow for and expect, even look forward to, the unexpected, then this is the wrong type of work to be in. Any doubts I might have had about being able to rely on Max were disappearing as we worked together on this mission.

Early the next day, we were doing our final briefing of Startic to send him back to Sali. We wanted him to get a fishing boat and blend in with the other boats as he made a careful examination of the island where Tuta was holding the hostage. From the analyst's report and from the layouts we'd gotten with the high res photos, we had a few signs we wanted him to check out. We also needed a troop strength count. That was probably the most important thing. We needed to know where they were and how many of them. If the count or locations were markedly different than from the high res photos, then that could signal they knew we were coming. Otherwise, we were as good to go as we ever were.

We'd be going in hard and fast. The diversionary unit would go by sea the next night, exploding one of the small fishing boats and sending its flaming wreckage toward the island's pier. We figured the people on the island would assume it was some fluke accident but they'd be drawn like people always are to accidents and mayhem. While they were distracted, a chopper would set my team down on a ridge above the villa and a dark speedboat would dump Max's team on the beach just down from the villa. We'd come in from two directions, trying to slip in unseen as far as we could but ready to go loud and take out resistance if we had to. Two choppers were to be standing by to do the evac.

That is, those were the plans as long as Startic's surveillance showed us the opposing forces were still numbering the 22 we had accounted for.

But, you know the saying we in the Marines love to hate? This one: if there's a way to fuck it up, someone will find it.

I got the call from Karolina about two hours after I'd finished briefing Startic and sent him and the two men who'd help him set the diversion on their way to Sali.

Get a load of this. She was calling to say she was in position.

"In position?" I asked, this creeping feeling of 'about to be fucked up' coming over me.

"I am in Sali. I have already made contact with one of Tuta's men. We are meeting again tonight. I will report in the morning."

And that was it. I was screaming at her over the cell and she'd already hung up. She'd been calling me from a secured phone and not a single fucker around me had the number. I think I screamed at every person there. It didn't help.

Max surprised me. He watched me for as long as it took me to calm to deadly silence.

"As I tried to warn you, Dino. She was unprepared for this."

I just looked at him. "What? You think I caused this? I backed you, Max. And ..."

"That is not my point. I am grateful for your support and trust. I simply meant to point out that she had false belief in her own abilities. We must recognize that now she has likely compromised our mission."

All we could really do was let Startic know to watch for Karolina and figure out how to get her ass back in line if he could do it without causing anyone to notice they were working together.

So for the rest of that night, we sat around with our dicks in our hands. I swear that I do not even know what we were waiting on. Max was out pretending to be working to conclude the negotiations and seeing if Karolina's bumbling into Sali had alerted Tuta's crew. If the negotiations seemed to be proceeding as expected, then we'd have to figure out how we'd get her the hell out of Sali without causing even more damage. But one way or the other, we were facing the moment of decision -- go or no go.

"This is a royal cluster fuck, boss," one of my crew I'd brought in for this job told me. He was ex-Marine like me. I gave him my best dogman glare and he backed off.

A sleepless night later, I was standing on the veranda trying to decide whether to let the ops be a go for that night when my cell rang. I thought it would be Terry and that I'd be listening to another tirade from him. It was Karolina.

She sounded odd but told me it was just the connection. She had a full reporting: troop strength, locations, the area of the villa the hostage was likely in, local law enforcement was not to be trusted.

I wrote it all down and listened to her report with full awareness that she'd done a brilliant job. How to handle someone who disobeys your orders but still brings home the bacon you need?

"Karolina?" I said her name quiet and she gave me this hushed grunt of acknowledgment. "If you ever cross me again, Tuta will be the least of your worries."

"I understand, O'Leary. But I am servicing the mission. It is the hostage who is the important matter, is it not?"

"Startic's up there with you. Find him. Stay with him. Do not disobey me again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. Understood."

"You did good, Karolina. Don't take any more chances."

Two hours later, Startic radioed to report that he and Karolina had hooked up. Stash her someplace safe, I ordered him, because we cannot afford for whoever she met among Tuta's men to realize she's with us. He paused for a long time before saying words to the effect that she would be sitting this one out.

An hour later, we were on the road, taking care to not appear to be traveling in a pack. We took two boats from Zadar, blending in with tourists taking fishing and touring trips through the island chain off this city. But the boats were deceptively fast and had been brought in for this purpose across the sea from Italy a week earlier by two guys Terry had used for similar jobs. My team was heading to just outside Zaglav, about five klicks from Sali, where the chopper would come in under the first cover of darkness to get us. Max's team stayed well hidden in a bay off Brbinj, about 15 klicks over the sea from the target island of Mugdi. They'd wait until sunset to begin taking their position.

And then that moment came. Go or no go. Time to step to the plate. I took one last mental inventory of what we were about to do and then I made the call to Max and Startic.

"Go."

 

 

MAXIMUS

The night was cold, a crisp wind blowing in, a clear star-ridden sky; December in Illyricum. From the nook of the boat where I sat as we hummed over the swelling wintry waves, I stared up and remembered such skies two thousand years ago. I had been stationed at Salonae (near the modern city of Split) when I was attached as a cavalry decurio with the XIIIth Gemina. Then I had been a young man of around twenty three summers with no cares and few possessions. I smiled ruefully to myself- what had changed? Only the weight of years and the burden of memory- but in reality I was still no more settled than that young man.

Cold nights riding on scouting missions, camping under the same clear cold skies and with the anticipation and apprehension of danger thudding in my breast. Waiting is always the worst time. Experience tells me that the restless feeling is how my body and brain learn to ready themselves for the moment when the test will come but I have never found it easy. I used to walk off from the others and pace about, find a quiet spot and stare up at the sky and wonder if this was the last night I would see. Then I would make my peace with those whom I loved and with my gods.

Tonight I was surrounded by men of my team, grim faced and professional men who knew exactly what was expected of them and would not shirk; there were no green tiros here who whose knees would knock at the first spear thrown and their first sight of blood. I did not need to worry about the frailties of my men- O'Leary had not made any errors here. I surveyed their faces and wondered what thoughts were passing through their minds. Wives, children, girlfriends, mothers? Why were they here? Purely money or were some believers in a cause? Why would any man lay down his life for another needlessly? Perhaps it was merely that there was not anything else worth doing that made a man feel like a man again.

I listened to the steady chug of the engine and watched as the coastline disappeared and the island drew nearer. I checked my watch. The other teams were in place and the schedule was set. Breathing deeply, I ran through my plans and mentally rehearsed the procedure we had agreed upon. First team to create maximum diversion and draw fire. Second team - Dino- to approach from the north, and rappel from a helicopter as close as they could get to the house, third team- mine- to take the southern track watching the exit route to the jetty. We needed to be in position first, tucked away before the fireworks began. We were.

An hour later I counted down as the seconds ticked away. A grey cloud passed over the moon and a gloom descended. A good omen. The gods were with us. Before I could finish the thought the loud roar of speedboats and the crack of gunfire broke the still air; I could smell the acrid fumes of petrol and cordite wafting across the bay.

Motioning to the three men with me, we left our hiding place, a ditch on either side of the road flanking the path, and crouched down to listen. I lay prone and placed my ear against the paved road. I felt no vibrations; there was no one close. Nodding, I picked up the heavy assault equipment and we ran forward stealthily, following the route to the hilltop stronghold, ready at any moment to take cover in the brush and trees on both sides.

I slung the heavy AK-47 over my shoulder and ran my hand over the ammunition belt. I also carried a handgun and a knife. An involuntary grimace passed over my face. It wasn't the weight of the weaponry that bothered me - I had trained to carry a heavy shield for hours on end in my left arm, while holding a spear in my right and hoisting a 30 lb pack on my back- not to mention the drag of the short sword on my right hip. No, the discomfort and weight were nothing to me, but there was a nagging sense that I was not at one with this artillery equipment.

I can use a gun or rifle well enough- I seem to have skills as a marksman just as I once had a sharp eye with a knife or spear. But these new weapons were not second nature to me as was a gladius. With a sword in my hand I had no need even to think- it was an extension of my arm. Every second counts in battle, each minute reaction and reflex. If I had to think, I lost an advantage. Uneasiness gripped me. I was unused to that sensation; I had always had implicit belief in my mastery over my body and my weapon. I had yet to be proven in this new game.

The distant sound of a helicopter told me that the aerial assault had begun- Dino and his men would shortly hit the compound and with luck find Granosovic. We would bring up the rear and catch the retreat- or close off the escape should they try to pull the Minister out this way. He was dead on time. I smiled. Did I ever doubt him?

Just then a noise. I held a hand up and we went to ground. The night air was still around us, just the far off sounds of a gun battle and shouts of men. Then I sensed a change on the breeze and I smelt the trace of garlic and sweat. There was a guard ahead, maybe more than one. Had they heard our progress? They must be aware of the attack and would be trigger happy. I motioned for the others to lie still and I made my way around, away from the direction of the presence. I felt clumsy and placed the rifle down; vigilance and silence were more important. These men expected attack and were looking southwards for it. I intended to use my tracking skills and come down wind- they might have guns but I had an advantage that they did not possess.

On my belly, I crawled about a hundred metres and then skirted the stone outcrop, where I could now make out the shadowy figure of a lone gunman. He was moving edgily, alert to the noise behind him but conscious of the possibility of attack from ahead. His agitated swinging of his gun showed me his anxiety- he could be dangerous but also fear was a useful factor in my favour. Manoeuvering my position until I was directly above him on the slope, I jumped. He saw nothing. His throat was slit ear to ear, down to the bone - he did not even utter a sigh as he died.

His weapon clattered down the hillside. I swore. I had hoped to claim it, aware that he was unlikely to have been alone at this post. I ducked down and listened but there was no apparent sound. Rising above the parapet, I called down below with the agreed hoot to summon my companions.

My failure. My tactic used against me. I heard the whoosh of air and knew that I was being jumped. Before I could react, my neck was seized and thrown back; same modus operandi- an assassin's blade to the throat. The man was bigger than me by at least a full span and he was strong- formidably strong. I had a fraction of a second to react. I grabbed his balls and twisted with one hand while using my head to butt against his. He groaned and I felt the slight relaxing of his grip as my skull cracked his chin and momentarily confused him. But I knew he was going to recover quickly- this man was an expert- it was implicit in his every move.

I had one chance- if I failed he would gut me. My hand grabbed his knife arm, held the wrist and turned; foot to his knee, knocking him off balance and then lunge- I had his hand at his own throat and the knife lodged deep. The gurgle of his blood welling up told me he was dying; he dropped to his knees and I hilted the knife. A sudden euphoria gripped me, a wild joy in the moment of victory. I had been moments from death and now I was alive and my would-be conqueror lay at my feet. There is no sweeter moment in battle - the closer death beckons the deeper the primal urge to live and destroy the obstacle in your path. I muttered a thanks to Mithras and breathed deeply to regain my composure, raising my head to the sky and baying silently to the wintry moon.

My companions joined me, looked at the two dead bodies and exchanged glances; I had won their confidence and whetted my own appetite for the fight. But there was little time to sit back and enjoy victory; at that same moment a noise reached our ears from further up the hill- it sounded like the creak of a car suspension. I fell to the ground for the second time and listened- a vehicle was rolling down towards us, no doubt using the incline to gather momentum rather than engage the engine and give away their flight.

I scrambled up and indicated that we needed an obstacle to block the path. We dragged a few logs and heavy stones across- enough to stop a car with no power. No sooner did we throw ourselves behind the shelter of the rocks again than the getaway vehicle slid into view; they did not see the barrier until the front wheels touched and the car came to a juddering halt. I signaled and the men moved. We surrounded the car with guns pointed and ordered out the occupants: a driver and, in the back, two men, one handcuffed.

With the captives kneeling and deprived of their weapons, we sought the key to the handcuffs and freed Granosovic. He was dressed warmly in a greatcoat, a woolen hat pulled firmly down on his head and a scarf wrapped round his neck. They had shown care for him on a cold night. Something worried me. I pulled at the scarf. It was not the man of the film evidence. This was not Minister Granosovic.

"We've been duped. They must be on foot. Watch these three! Take them down to the jetty. Kill anyone who gives you any problems." I ran back up the slope in the direction the car had come from. There must have been an agreed signal from the watch which had not been given. Whoever held Granosovic had stopped the car, removed him and camouflagued one of his men. I had little time. If they felt attacked on all sides they would see no reason to hang onto their hostage. He was being taken into the woods to be executed. Of that I had no doubt.

I scoured the road for clues and then found what I was looking for. A vehicle and the rubber-soled tracks of modern shoes are like painted signs to a tracker of the ancient days; we learnt to read even the droppings of animals that had lain for several days. This was child's play to me. I saw where they had left the road and went off the path after them, ears alert to their sound, eyes watchful of any signs on the foliage. There was plenty of evidence- this man had not tried to hide his route. The ground showed the marks of feet that had battered down the sparse grass; leaves were broken as he had pushed his way downhill and pulled the unwilling man behind him. I also could tell that they were only minutes ahead; I prayed that he would take his time to find the perfect spot before he pulled the trigger.

I heard a groan and plunged to the earth. In a clearing knelt Granosovic, his hands joined, a final prayer muttered as he waited for the expected shot. Behind him a man, stood with a handgun pressed against the back of his neck. There was a pause- was the assassin steeling himself or enjoying the older man's distress? - and then I threw the knife. It pierced his heart and he tumbled forward with a strangled cry, his hands clutched to his chest. I rushed forward and kicked away the gun that he had dropped, put myself between the victim and his captor. The latter was lying prone, groaning, I kicked him over and saw that he was a very young man, little more than twenty it appeared, fear gripping his smooth hairless cheeks. I crouched down by him as he mumbled some last words and gripped my arm. I felt his fingers loosen and watched his eyelids flicker as his lifeblood drained away.

Suddenly he spoke- "Who are you? I want to know your name!" How to refuse a dying man? I replied:

"Maximus." And then I closed his eyes.

My attention quickly focused on Granosovic. He looked shocked but I could already see him garnering his strength. "You come to rescue me? Whom do you represent? Which group?" he demanded suspiciously, perhaps imagining that he had been merely snatched by another faction in the never-ending inter-gang warfare that is conducted in these parts.

"No group. I am with the independent agency employed by your government to find you. It appears that trusting in the local agencies has its inherent problems in such a case..."

Granosovic smiled ruefully and extended his hand. "You only just made it. A clumsy rescue effort if I may say so." But he grinned. "My thanks. Take no notice of me. I was a soldier in the war. I have exacting standards."

"Then we have much in common, sir. But no time to lose. This way if you are fit enough to walk..." He probably wasn't but he drew himself up to his full height and straightened his back- there was no way he was going to be carried out of here. He was an impressive man and I sensed his innate dignity. He would be an important figure in the reconstruction of this damaged land.

We rendezvoused at the jetty. Our team was intact and had contacted O'Leary who was at present searching the house. Tuta was not present but they had rounded up a large group of the gang; he was waiting for the arrival of the authorities from the city- local militia would be in their pay and could not be trusted. The helicopter arrived to evacuate Granosovic and I boarded with him and two of my men- the third was returning with the boat.

As the bird raised and set off over the sea, I gazed out at that night sky again. It was over and we had succeeded. I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction- but also weighed up what I had learnt. There were plenty of lessons in this for me. Not the least was about the need to subordinate myself more willingly to my senior command. And to be much more circumspect where I take my pleasure. This is a different age and women have their own expectations. Will I never learn?

 

 

DINO

Every man in these situations has his own style. I had always said that you can tell more about a man's character in thirty seconds under fire than you can in thirty years working next to him at a desk. Facing death, being there when it counts, putting yourself behind the team ... this is what tells you what a man really is.

On the battlefield, anyway.

But in real life? Aren't there some other things you need to know about a man's character? I don't know why it shocked me to find out differently, but it did.

The operation? Jesus! It was a mind blower. With Max's input, we had a tactical plan that worked to perfection. With Startic leading the main decoy team, we had a distraction that bought Max's team the cover it needed to land safe, clean and undetected on the beach. My team rappelled smoothly down from the chopper and we were moving in close before the island's defenders even really knew we were there.

But, Tuta's no dummy, even if he is no match for me. He had some clever guys there at his compound and they knew right away that there was a real chance the diversion at the main dock was the beginning of a rescue attempt.

Just like I always say ... if you don't expect the unexpected, you shouldn't be in this game. Fortunately, Max is like me and Terry ... if shit don't start going wrong in an operation, you get real suspicious. We don't work nearly so well until something turns on us and we have the chance to show what we're made of and how quickly we can improvise. Max sure as shit showed me that night.

What I found out about the work that Max and his team did was not really gleaned from Max's report to me. I found out the details from the guys with him.

Our teams rendezvoused back on the mainland where the choppers landed. Max's report to me? It was the barest of bare bones: "We determined the hostage had been moved and was in danger of execution. We prevented this from happening and subsequently evacuated him according to plan."

While we waited on the medics to check out the newly freed and very grateful Granosovic, Max walked off toward the rock jetty and I watched him stand there looking toward the direction of the island we'd left. There was something about his stance that got to me - it was like he was a different man. Like he'd remembered who he was and sure as shit liked the feeling.

He seemed still. 

Yeah, Max often seems like a stiff brush, but this was different. This was a stillness you only see after battle when a man knows he's just remembered that this is something he's good at.

I searched out two of the guys who'd gone with Max in his team. They told me about watching him ... how he'd moved and how he'd gotten this look in his eyes. They told me about watching him take out a guy much bigger than him and draped over him, in the kill position. And Max hadn't used any fancy moves; he'd used brutal moves. They both told me this: if there was ever an operation that Max would be involved in, they wanted in and they wanted on his team.

I talked to the minister. He told me about Max taking out this guy about to execute him ... how Max had thrown a knife that went clean into the guy's heart. Granosovic said he'd watched in stunned shock as Max coolly and without fanfare made sure the guy was no longer a threat and then had stood there watching him die. But how Max had also shown this side to him that was like him giving respect to his enemy - how he'd closed the guy's eyes and whispered something over him.

I was dragging on a cigarette and working up the words I was going to tell Terry about our exploits of that night when my radio crackled. It was Startic. He wanted me to turn on my cell and call him. Something he needed to tell me that he didn't want being broadcast to the entire team.

When I got off from him, I made a few arrangements then went and stood waiting on Max to walk back toward us. I delivered the bad news to him the way I like bad stuff told to me ... straight up.

"Max, just heard from Startic. It's about Karolina." And then I told him. When Startic had first found her that morning before the operation, he found her hiding in a room above her uncle's tavern. She had been injured and begged him not to tell me; she didn't want me concerned about her health and maybe stopping or delaying the operation. He'd done the best he could to clean her up but had felt she needed medical care because she was cut pretty bad and he had a tough time stopping some of the bleeding. But he felt that he couldn't risk taking her to a local doctor for fear the local cops would tip Tuta. Besides, Karolina had been damned firm in telling him that she could wait until the operation was over before she'd need to be patched up by a doctor.

"She was injured?" Max asked me.

"Yeah. Startic said it looked like she'd been worked over good. As bad as she looked, he still thought it was mostly cuts and bruising. Her face. Arms. Legs. He only left her because she insisted that it wasn't that bad. But it was obviously a lot worse than it looked. By the time he got back to her a little while ago, she was unconscious. I've dispatched one of the choppers to get her and evac her to a hospital here in Zadar."

"That is a most unfortunate outcome. I assume it was one of Tuta's men who did this to her?"

"She said the guy was doing it to show off to his friends after they caught him with her."

Max looked off over the sea again and took a deep breath. He was getting ready to walk away when I stopped him.

"Max, you need to meet them at the hospital. Be there for her. Make sure she gets the best medical care. Put it on the TOL tab but make sure whatever she needs, she gets. See that she ..."

"I will be escorting Granosovic to Zagreb." 

My mouth dropped open. It was the cold, dismissive tone of voice. I got so close to him that I could whisper. "For fuck's sake, Max. Go help her."

"She is not my concern. Granosovic is. She is in good hands and Startic will see to her security just as the physicians will heal her wounds."

"She could be dying, Max. What the fuck is wrong with you? This is a woman you were having an affair with. How can you even hesitate at this point?"

He finally looked at me. In the darkness, I couldn't read his face but his voice was cold and distant. "If you are that concerned, O'Leary, then perhaps you would feel better if you went yourself to see to her care and safety."

I couldn't believe it. Fucking bastard. "This woman, Max, only did what she did because you rejected her and then she felt humiliated. If it hadn't been for you, she would never have put herself in that position."

"I disagree. What she did, she did because you failed to convince her that her role should not include such dangerous work. You expected her to do more than she should have been expected to do. She is a woman."

That was all I could take. There'd be no talking him off this position. No way was the great and mighty Maximus going to admit he'd fucked up and fucked Karolina over. An hour later, I was getting the news from her doctor.

It was bad. It was ugly. I was sitting by her bed when she started coming around after her surgery. She was whispering and I leaned in to tell her I was there; she called out for Max. I had to swallow hard in order to speak to her. I don't know who she really thought she was talking to but she started telling me what had happened. Her voice was groggy and I knew she wouldn't have told me the details if she'd been fully alert. Karolina is much too proud of a woman to do that. She would never have told me about how she'd flirted with one of Tuta's men until he took her out on a boat, showing off the island and bragging on himself. Telling her what a big man he was in Tuta's organization and then proving it by telling her the details she coaxed out of him ... the information she later called in to me.

But then it turned on her. Maybe she sorta knew it would. He picked up a few buddies. They made crude comments about her being Bosnian just like Granosovic and how there wasn't much Bosnian women were good for. They took turns with her. The doctor had already told me about the evidence of multiple rapes. They cut her, too. They beat and kicked her. Then they dumped her off the boat as they returned to Sali.

She'd somehow made it to shore and then a local fisherman found her. He brought her to her uncle's place. She probably called me right after she got back. When Startic left her, there was no way he could know about her internal injuries being bad enough that the doctors said she almost bled to death. She had to have her spleen removed.

I was numb by the time she dropped back off to sleep.

The next afternoon, I left the hospital. Karolina was mending; I'd arranged for her to be evac'd out of the hospital in four days, when the doctor there thought she'd be able to travel. I was having one of our jets pick her up and take her to Milan because Terry had told me once that he had some medical contacts there who specialized in plastic surgery to repair war wounds. Don't ask me why that ever came up between us; I had hoped that I'd never have to remember that piece of info.

They had tried to take her beauty from her. We couldn't give her back her innocence ... hell, she had surely lost that years earlier ... but we could give her back the appearance of the woman she was.

When I got to Dubrovnik, I went to see Max. I won't tell you the exact words we exchanged. Actually, Max didn't say anything. He listened; whether or not he heard me is debatable. The gist of what I told him was that I might never have had another person who worked for me that I'd rather have with me on an operation but that I'd never met another man who'd disappointed me more in terms of his humanity than Max did.

She had asked for him. I had called him and told him to get his ass up there to see her. He said it wasn't necessary for me to tell him his duty in regards to Karolina.

"Your duty, Max?" I told him in Dubrovnik. It was the final thing I said to him on my way to the airport. "This wasn't about duty. This was about the right thing to do. She needed you. You should have gone to her."

I was in the jet, winging my way home, when I called Terry to give him a final report. Didn't know what to say about Maximus and Karolina. If I told him, I wasn't sure what he'd say or do. Fuck, I wasn't sure what to say or do.

But with Terry, you never can tell. When I reached him, he sounded pleasantly buzzed if on overload from Christmas preparations with Uma. He was also still not over being pissed at me for cutting him out of this mission. And as soon as I heard his voice, I felt the adrenalin rush of a great mission and couldn't keep it out of my voice as I raced to launch into the recap. He told me I sounded like a pixie on speed. I told him to keep on sipping at his malt while I told him a tale of wonder and made him once again grateful he had such good taste in partners.

I love to give him one, don't I? Would he be Terry if he didn't rise to the bait? "It went down like a dream, Terry. A fucking wet dream."

"Jesus- I fucking hate you."

"You should. You have no idea how much fun this was."

He groaned. "I'm here Christmas fucking shopping."

You should have heard him. I felt the weight lift and just giggled to be talking to him again. "What'd you get me?"

"Knee capped. Then I'll have to go on the next jaunt."

"Nice, man. And here I got you just what you really need -- a personality transplant."

There was this bit of silence between us; Terry knew I'd just purposely taken that scenic route to avoid telling him about what had happened. His voice was gruff when he started trying to feel me out for what had happened: "So Maxie delivered the goods? Make my day even more perfect for me, why don't you?"

I made the instant decision to try hard to just keep this to business. "Your boyfriend ... he's some piece of shit. He was great in the field. Rave reviews. Cold blooded motherfucker. They all loved him."

"I'll bet."

"Yeah." Clearing my throat and knowing I had to give him the other news straight on. "Look, we had one bad outcome though. It's Karolina. She was injured."

"Christ." I could hear the way it hit him. No one likes hearing this. Especially not Terry.

"It was pretty bad, Terry."

It took a second for it to sink in. "What the fuck was she doing there? She took a bullet?"

"No. She wasn't on the actual operation. She just ... she ... um ... she got caught up in trying to prove something to Max and did something stupid." I was stumbling around because it suddenly dawned on me ... I was going to have to tell him. Shit. Let me be honest. This was the moment that I knew I had to tell him -- not for his sake, but for mine. I just needed to tell someone who'd understand why this upset me like it did. How wrong it was. He read me like he always reads me. He knew there was more and he wanted it all.

"I don't understand. What the fuck has Max got to do with her?"

So I dumped the bad stuff on him. "She and Max ... they were an item until Annie got there."

"Fuck." He said it quiet. He got what that meant.

"Karolina didn't take the brush off too good. Course, you know Max. I'm sure he did it with real warmth and concern."

"Oh yeah. Strength and honour."

Didn't even try to hide the bitterness. "Sell that fucking shit to someone else. Max ain't got any honor. Not when it comes to women."

"What? Thought he was Mr. Ideal Husband. You not watch his fucking film?"

I snorted at that idea. "He's got the Sisters snowed, I tell ya. But not us. He's a bastard, Terry. You were right all along. She was only up there, trying to prove to him that she was worth something, it's the only reason she was there. And what they did to her. Christ, man."

Full on ranting and not making this easy on Terry. He was caught off-guard by the bile I was spewing and he was clueless as to what I was talking about. He kept trying to get me to explain but I just kept up the rant.

"But you think Max would care? I mean, this is a woman he was screwing."

Finally, he gave me that really tough, no nonsense voice of his to shut me up. "What happened to her?"

"She tried to get some undercover information from one of Tuta's gang. She got it. She even got the info to me. But they beat her, Terry. After they raped her. And she still found the strength to get the info to me. I swear, man, I didn't know she'd been hurt until after it was all over."

"Christ almighty." Like all the life had gone out of him. I'd stunned him too bad with that. I can be such a shit to Terry. "Give me a minute. I need to think."

I paused for all of five seconds before moving on because I was on a roll by then. "I got her evac'd to a hospital in the city and she's patched up. You need to call one of your buds in Milan and get her hooked up with a plastic surgeon. Isn't that where the good ones are?"

"Yeah ... no problem. I'll get onto that- I know just the bloke." Silence now between us before Terry did a classic Terry ... he was thinking of the other parts to this. Any wonder why I love this guy? "What about her son? Jesus -it's almost Christmas- who's got the kid?"

"He's with one of Startic's people. They're keeping him until she gets back."

"Christ- she shouldn't have been anywhere near those crazy bastards. You know how they treat Bosnian women ... fucking animals. Who's with her? Mad Max?"

"You gotta be kidding me. Why do you think I'm so fucking pissed? Man, I tried to get Max to go see her. She asked for him, Terry. Asked for him. You understand what I'm saying? She's laying there after surgery to remove her spleen and she's asking for Max. I called him and told him. He wouldn't even go see her. Fucking cold bastard."

"What did he say?"

"Ah, fuck, Terry. You know Max. He didn't say shit. As far as he was concerned, she was nothing. Nothing. Not even worth a lousy visit in the hospital. What do the Sisters see in him? How could they all ... I'd think smart women like Uma and ... well, I'd just think they'd not let him get away with this shit."

"Maybe he was trying to, you know, save her feelings. Christ, I don't know how his mind works but I can't think he'd be so callous, mate. She'd know....if I asked Tink, she'd see what his game was."

Couldn't believe it. Terry Thorne trying to pretend he thought Max was anything but a bastard? "Give me a break, man. Are you defending him? After the shit he's pulled with you? And don't bother asking Uma. She's blind to him."

"Not blind. Realistic." He said it firm but quiet, hushed almost. Then he was talking to me all reasonable when what I really wanted was him joining me in being angry. "Christ, Dino. Maybe you need to remember - the guy is 2000 fucking years old. Maybe he calls this differently- maybe we should give him a break."

I exploded. Just let rip. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Listen up, man. I was there. Maybe he just didn't have to keep up the pretenses with me because he's not getting in my pants. He deserves a break? Fuck that shit. You fucking give him a break. He's had the last one he'll get from me. I might work with him on a team again but I'll never trust him with women again."

"I don't know, mate- you were there but it's too fucking easy for me to simply lay it on him. If I really hated the bastard this would be so much easier, ya know?"

"When did you get so fucking reasonable, Terry? You been nipping a bit too much joy juice this season?" There was silence between us; Terry knew to let me blow a good rant and that I'd settle down after it to think. So I did but I didn't think far. I gave him this little groan and then said, "And now I got to go sit in Annie's house with him for Christmas in two days. If she knew what he'd done, she'd die."

"Sure as shit. Annie is not known for her tolerance in those matters."

"She'd rip him a new one. Heh. I should tell her. It'd be fun to watch the blood flow."

And then, typical Terry ... taking on the weight of this when it never belonged to him. "Jesus, I feel responsible- I gave Karolina's name to the general. I never saw that coming."

"Well, now we know. I swear, Terry, I don't know how to hold this together over Christmas."

"Something's not right, mate. Something we're missing. Max may be a bastard but this just seems ... I'll go have a word with his fan club- no, wait maybe not...all I need is her on her fucking high horse all Christmas."

I knew what he meant. If he asked Uma to explain Max to him, to help us make some sense, she'd defend him to the hilt. It's an automatic reaction with women and Max, I suppose. All except Darcy; she seems to see him more clear-eyed, not be so blinded by whatever it is he's got that makes smart women stupid. Like Annie ... I mean, what is it she sees in him lately? I thought about how she ought to know this side to him; she was getting in deeper and I didn't want her to get hurt. I pictured telling her; it'd be for her own good.

"If I tell Annie ... shit, it's a bad time of year to do that. It'd fuck up her Christmas, wouldn't it? I guess I just have to pretend everything's hunky dory while I'm there."

"Keep out of it- you tell Annie and she'll turn on you- she's got it bad for him. Better she works it out herself. Hey, tell her you can't make it- pressure of work- some such shit...we'd love you to join us here, but, as you know, we won't be here. At least my Christmas will be as shitty as yours, if that's any consolation."

He was right; didn't take a genius but it did make me feel less like a rat that he basically said what I was thinking ... it wasn't my place to tell Annie about Max. "No way could yours be as bad as mine. Imagine sitting through days of seeing his sorry ass and Annie not knowing and knowing if she did, she'd kill him."

"Man, I can't shake this...Jesus, how could it have happened? He better have some fucking good explanation for his behaviour...I'll wipe the fucking floor with him. Where is he now? I want to talk to him. I'm sick of keeping my mouth shut where he's concerned."

It made me chuckle. Isn't this how it always is with us? Must be why we're a good team. I get pissed and Terry's talking me down with reason; then I get calm and he ramps up into fury. "You think he'll tell you? He wouldn't say anything to me. Just stood there all superior and smug."

"He might do if I'm twisting his fucking balls."

"Well, he's in Dubrovnik another day or two. Don't start in on him without me."

From there, we devolved into a spectacularly tasteless rendition of our visions of what we'd like to see Terry do with Max's balls and how they'd make special ornaments on his tree this Christmas. Okay, okay. So we were childish and got incredibly gross. But ... hey ... boys will be boys. Well ... yeah. And it did make me calmer. It did somehow help me believe I could hold it together for the days I'd be in New Orleans.

And we ended with a bit of love talk just right for the season, eh?

"Why is it you know the sweetest things to say to me?" I cooed to Terry. "You're making me feel so much better, man."

"Cos I'm your honey...that's my job."

"And here I thought I'd lost you to Maxie."

"See- I did make you jealous."

"Yeah, you did. I thought you were keeping it for me and then you started flirting with him. What's a girl to do?"

"It's my way, mate- I just love to tease."

Before we hung up, we had a plan in place for Karolina. Terry'd call and make the medical treatment arrangements. We knew she was too proud to take handouts from us forever so we figured we'd set up a fund for her son's education and care; she'd take it disguised like that. Bottom line was ... we needed to be looking out for them both. We figured we'd have it all set up in time for her to be discharged and heading home. Terry figured it'd be about a week or two after the New Year's before she'd be released from the hospital in Milan. By the time she got home, we hoped whatever we could do for her was enough to help her face the rest of her life.

I'm not saying it would be enough; but I am realistic enough to know that it was the best we could do for her.

So our mission was a fucking success. The government was over the moon with us. Our reputation was zinging its way skyward and the word was getting out on the street. The big boys knew we were back in town. There is just no way to say how important this mission was to us. It was the thing that would make us the boys in demand.

But there was now something solid and devastating between Max and me. Don't know when I've been more disappointed to find out a man didn't live up to who I thought he was. Don't know when I've been angrier with a man.

I sighed as I leaned back in my seat. Closed my eyes. Tried to imagine if I had it in me to call Annie and tell her I wasn't coming to New Orleans for Christmas after all. She'd asked me weeks ago and she knew I was so damned touched that she had. We'd traded emails and phone calls since then ... it was the first Christmas in a long time that I'd been really looking forward to because I'd be with family.

But I just didn't think I could hold it together around Max. Season of brotherly love, eh?

He was flying out of Dubrovnik two days after me. I was stopping in New York for two days to do a bit of paperwork chasing ... Max and I would be arriving in New Orleans on the same day.

I hadn't a fucking clue how I was going to be civil to Max in front of the rest of the people that week. I've had some tense and some strange Christmases, but I'm not sure I ever had one where I couldn't find my Christmas spirit to save my life.

Some holiday cheer I was in, eh?

Merry fucking Christmas.

 

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