Close Protection (17 page)

Lena’s bedroom door swung open, catching her in the middle of a daydream. Zeus was at the door with two henchmen.

“We’re leaving,” he said. “Right now. You have five minutes to pack.”

Lena knew he wasn’t kidding. She got out her two biggest suitcases and stuffed them full of clothes. Who knew if she would ever come back here. She took a box of things that she had left from her mother and stashed it at the top of one of the suitcases. In every other available space, she crammed clothes and shoes. She was standing at the door in front of Zeus exactly four minutes and forty eight seconds after he’d entered. The henchmen each picked up a bag, and Lena wished that she’d thought to fill them with dumbbells and rocks too.

She followed her father out to a car in front of the house. She looked around for Ramon but didn’t see him anywhere.

Zeus pushed her into the car and climbed in after her. The goons loaded the bags and the driver took off. The gate opened and she left her childhood home for the last time ever.

The driver went fast. Lena looked over his shoulder and saw the speedometer pushing ninety miles an hour. Once, when she was much younger, she’d been in the car with Zeus when a state trooper pulled him over. She couldn’t hear what he said to her, but her face turned white and she walked back to her car with stiff, small steps.

At this rate, they’d be in Miami in two hours and in Cuba in less than six. Maybe she could get away at the airport. It was unlikely. Probably, their limo would take them straight to a private hanger and then she’d be whisked into the jet that her stepfather had chartered. She might only take a handful of steps before she stepped foot on Cuban soil. Then she didn’t know how long until they’d go to the boat. Maybe they’d spend some time in Havana. Maybe they’d rent a beach house. Lena wished now that she’d worked harder in Spanish class. Getting away would have been a lot easier if she spoke the language.

She watched through teary eyes as the swamp whipped by. The sun was just now getting to the top of the sky and she could see deep into the forest. She’d miss the swamp. Damien’s house was on the outskirts of the Everglades. Minus the palm trees, it looked like it belonged in the midwest somewhere.

Zeus looked anxious. He glanced down at his watch repeatedly and sent several texts on his phone. Basil was in the passenger seat of the car and didn’t seem to share his father’s concerns.

Like Lena thought, they arrived at the airport in no time. The limousine drove right through the gates and parked outside the private hanger that her family had always had here. She tried to get out of the car, but it was locked, and Zeus have her a look like she should have been ashamed to even try.

She sat, waiting, thinking of Ramon, worrying, wondering. Fifteen minutes later there was a loud whir and she saw a small, twin engine jet taxi up behind them. Zeus opened the door and stood aside while she climbed out of the car, took one step on the tarmac, and a second onto the gangway. Three minutes later, the plane was moving towards the runway.

They waited on the tarmac. Lena breathed stale recirculated air and felt the whine of the engines rattle her brain. She gripped the seat tight and looked out the window, hoping by some miracle to see Ramon tearing across the runway in a stolen car, here to stop her from flying away from him.

She was still hoping when the engines roared to life and the small plane rocked forward, pushed her into her seat, and climbed into the sky. They would land in Havana in an hour, an hour and a half if they had to wait for the runway.

Most of the guards got in various cars and drove off, but there was still a skeleton crew looking after the house. There was no sign of panic or alarm, and as far as Ramon knew, he was still off of the radar.

He had to be fast. First thing he would need to do is get to the gatehouse and open it. There was no way that he’d get away with honking and swearing again. Not after his last escape.

Then he’d get back to the garage, steal a car, and drive like hell.

He slipped back out of the side door and around the back of the garage. There were goons pouring in and out of it, but he moved quickly and silently and nobody saw him. It was about 100 feet to the gatehouse. Ramon peeked around the back of the garage, waiting for a break in the stream of henchmen. When he saw it, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He slid around the corner and looked behind him. The coast was still clear. He tried the gatehouse door and found it open. There was nobody inside. He went for the controls when he heard a toilet flush. He looked around, there were four doors, all unmarked. Any one of them could have been the bathroom. One began to open, and Ramon charged it, slamming into it as hard as he could and knocking someone back into a wall. He climbed up and got ready to attack his unsuspecting victim again, but the man was already out cold. Ramon took the handcuffs from his waist and cuffed him to the s-pipe of the toilet and went to deal with the gate.

Zeus’s henchmen weren’t exactly smart, but once he opened the gate and it stayed open, they’d know something was up. If he was lucky, he’d be able to make it to the garage and out before they found their colleague in the bathroom. He lowered the gate, not waiting for it to finish moving before he took back off for the garage. A henchman saw him and called out. The man raised his gun and shot twice. Ramon did not stop sprinting. He ran into the garage. He wouldn’t be able to pick the lockbox this time. He grabbed a metal stool from behind the garage desk and pounded the lockbox until it opened.

This time, he didn’t need to think twice about what car he wanted. His objective was to get to the keys as fast as possible. The road went in a straight line. He didn’t care if anybody saw him, they would never catch him.

He pulled out a sleek black key with a gold emblem of a charging bull and unlocked a bright yellow Lamborghini Aventador. When the engine started, Ramon felt every bone in his body shake. He let off the brake and idled forward out of the garage. Out in the open, his gentlest touch caused the car to dark forward. It was the purest mechanical form of unrestrained aggression. Guards ran out into the courtyard. Not one of them dared to shoot at the car. Ramon sped towards the gate and whipped along the driveway until he slid out onto the main road. He cleared the first mile of road in thirty seconds. The next one he did in twenty. The speedometer teased two hundred miles an hour. He could have gone faster if he was only a little more insane. The drive from Lake Oachachoee to the Florida Keys normally takes about three hours. Ramon did it in forty eight minutes. He pulled into a marina on the outside of town and ran out onto the docks. He untied a cigarette boat and climbed aboard. He found the keys in a small cooler in the back, right where Gabe said they’d be.

Ramon was less comfortable on the water than he was on the road. Clipping over the gentle seas at fifty miles an hour was far scarier than it was hurtling through the swamps at nearly four times that speed. The boat’s GPS system guided him to a small fishing village just outside of the Havana airport. It took him just under two hours of salt and sun before he was greeted in Spanish by a pleasant man in a straw hat. Ramon was three days early, but the man was ready for him. The man took the boat from Ramon and they traded a friendly handshake. He gave Ramon the keys to a 1970s Chevy pick-up truck and Ramon left for the airport without delay.

Once he was there, he pulled up outside the air traffic control station just outside the airport and asked at the front desk for a man named Pedro. Pedro informed him that he’d beaten the Buldova flight by four minutes, and that they were preparing to land as they spoke. Ramon thanked him and went back out to the truck. He watched the runway from behind the wheel, waiting to see a small plane float down to the tarmac. A car would meet them, and Ramon would follow the car to a harbor. Once there, he’d have to figure out how to get onto the Acala yacht without raising hell, or find a way to get Lena into his car before she went to the yacht. The former seemed hard. The latter seemed impossible.

A twin engine plane appeared over the shimmering horizon above the tarmac, grew larger, and landed on the runway in a puff of burnt rubber. Two minutes after it stopped, a baby blue convertible from another time pulled up next to it. Ramon watched Zeus and Lena climb out of the plane and into the car.

The car drove off the tarmac onto an access road that took them no more than 50 feet away from Ramon. He wish that he could tell Lena that he was right here. That he was coming for her. That she was going to be ok. In spite of everything, Ramon was starting to feel pretty good about things. That is, until Lena’s car turned south and began to drive away from the water. Ramon followed the car as far back as he could. He knew that he couldn’t afraid to spook Zeus. He might not have even known that Ramon had gotten out of the dungeon. He almost certainly had no idea that he had made it to Cuba.

The convertible drove south for about five miles and turned off the road into a driveway. Ramon waited before driving past. A few hundred feet back from the road, on a small hill, was a big house. He only got a glimpse of it for a second, but he saw armed guards on the lawn. As he drove past the property, he saw that it was surrounded by a fence. Nothing like the wall around the Buldova estate, but very likely to be electrified, if the large yellow “high voltage” signs were to be believed.

Ramon pounded the steering wheel and kept driving. This seriously fucked with his plans. How could he know when they were leaving for the boat? Unless he watched the property 24/7, he only had a passing shot at finding Lena. By the looks of it, he wouldn’t have any luck breaking into the house that the were keeping her in. He pulled off onto the side of the road by an empty field and walked back to the house to get a closer look.

Lena hadn’t expected this. Instead of going to the water, the driver of the car took them inland. They pulled onto the lot of a huge house out in the country. There were rough guards with big guns all over the place. They didn’t look nearly as tame as the goons that Zeus had back at their house in Florida.

The car pulled under a covered carport and the driver opened the door for Lena. She had no idea where she was, and wasn’t all that eager to find out. Zeus lead her around to the front of the house and knocked on the stately door. Dogs barked and somebody shouted in Spanish. She heard heavy footsteps on wood floors and a second later, the door opened up to reveal Damien Acala.

Lena thought about running to the closest guard and begging them to shoot her then, but decided that she might as well take her chances here. Maybe she’d get a chance to bite Damien’s cock off like she’d promised him.

“Lena, my darling, welcome to
mi casa!
”

“Hello,” she said, minding her surroundings and feigning manners.

“You must come in, please, and Papa Buldova,
hola
!”

Damien tried to hug Zeus. The big man would have none of it. Damien held out his hand instead, but Zeus glanced once dismissively at it and pushed past the boy.

“Ivan,” he shouted. “I’ve brought the girl.”

Lena followed her step-father inside. A short man in a powder blue suit came walking down the stairs and greeted Zeus with a cold handshake. He turned to Lena and eyed her up and down like he was inspecting a prize horse.

“She’s skinny,” he said to Zeus, and walked around the corner. They followed him into a kitchen where he prepared a cigar and lit it. He offered one to Zeus, who declined.

“So you’re going to marry my boy?” he said.

“Uh, yes.” Lena responded. She wondered if Ivan had remembered meeting her. It had only been a year ago, but there was no hint of recollection in his eyes.

“Shame. If you come two years ago, you can pick from two older brothers. Much stronger. Much handsome. Not like little brat boy.”

At least she had confirmation that nobody else liked Damien either.

“If all’s well, I’ve got business on the island. I’ll see you all at the wedding.”

With that, Zeus excused himself, leaving Lena alone with Damien and his family.

“Come, girl. I show you around the house.”

Ivan spoke English with the strangest accent she’d ever heard. Structurally, it was Russian, no doubt. But he’d lost most of that inflection to something that sounded more Latin. It was like Antonio Banderas auditioning for Dr. Zhivago.

“This is living room,” they walked upstairs. “Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom, your bedroom,” he said, pointing to four doors, going from left to right. “You share bedroom with brat baby and have own bathroom. Back downstairs.”

Lena followed him around the house, but she did not hear anything that he said. All that she could think about was spending the night in the same bed as Damien. She thought about the last time that had happened and it nearly made her throw up. It didn’t matter how, she
had
to do something. It couldn’t come to that.

They went down a flight of stairs into a cool and dark basement. It reeked of tobacco and rum. Lena was surprised to see the entire Acala family. Damien, both of his brothers, and his mother, Marie.

“See, I told you she was here,” Damien said. “And looking lovelier than ever, am I wrong.” The way that his brothers looked at her suggested that they did not disagree with him. “Say hello Lena.”

“Hello everyone.”

Lena was looking around, trying to figure out what to do now. Damien’s mother stood up and addressed her with unsettling formality. She always seemed so tightly wound.

“Lena, I’m just about to start dinner, why don’t you come with me?” Marie said.

“Oh, yes.” Lena said, trying to hide how excited she was to have an escape from this basement and the men.

Marie put things in front of Lena and gave her simple instructions. Cut this into fine strips. Peel these. Rub this seasoning into this. It helped Lena’s mind relax, forget about everything that was bothering her. After thirty minutes of helping Marie in the kitchen, she realized that she had no idea what they were making. Over on the stove, there was a big stock pot of something, simmering away. In a skillet, something was frying lightly.

“It smells good, what is it?” Lena asked.

“Ropa vieja,” Marie said.

“I’ve never seen it like this before.”

“Because you’ve never had it in my kitchen. I take the traditional recipe and do it in a Russian style. Ivan loves it. I think it’s alright.”

“Oh.”

“If you want an easy marriage, learn how to do things in a way that your husband likes. Happy husband, happy marriage.”

“Ok.”

“You’re going to do fine, now come here and stir this.

The family ate dinner and went to the living room to drink coffee. The men talked. Lena and Marie sat and listened. “Always listen,” Marie whispered. “Helps you stay ahead of the game”. Marie went to the kitchen and brought back a cake. It was delicious. Lena recognized the apples that she had peeled and slice into thin flakes.

After coffee and desert, Ivan announced that he was going to bed. “Big day tomorrow. Must sleep.” That seemed to be a general order for everyone else as well. The older brothers kissed their mother goodnight and went upstairs. Marie went to the kitchen to start putting things away. Lena went with her, anything to avoid being alone with Damien. She couldn’t even think about it. What was she going to do when he closed his bedroom door behind her.

She and Marie washed and dried dishes from dinner.

“I hope you’re alway this helpful,” she said. “God knows I could use another set of hands.” Lena just smiled at her and kept drying plates. After a few minutes, Damien swaggered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to Lena. His fingers teased at her waist as she leaned towards him to put a glass into the drying rack. She brushed them away but he relented. He leaned in to kiss her cheek but she spun away to take another dish from Marie. Damien tried to hide his frustration.

“Ma can take care of this. Come to bed baby.” His voice might have sounded like an honest plea, but Lena had heard it before. It was a demand, and it carried with it a threat.

She began to stammer. The force of Marie’s voice caught her off guard.

“Damien Pyotr Augustus Acala! This is a good Christian girl in a good Christian house. Until you are married before the Lord you will not even
think
about tempting her into your bed. Tonight you sleep on the couch. She gets your bed. Alone! Go see that your room is prepared for her!”

Lena could not hide her shock. It only bought her another day, but she would be grateful for every second of it.

When Damien was gone, Marie turned to her and whispered.

“When you get married, find God. If you know Him, He has many ways to keep you safe.”

Lena had never believed in angels before. She did now.