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Authors: Jeffrey Siger

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“Fair enough, but the offer's open anytime you change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

Both men stood and Andreas extended his hand. The Prime Minister took it and then hugged him. “Thanks again.”

Andreas nodded and headed to the door.

“Uh, would you ask the Brigadier to come back in? I have an offer for him too. Hopefully one he can't refuse.” The Prime Minister smiled at his
Godfather
reference.

Which made Andreas think of another quote, one he'd seen on full display today.
Don't fuck with ultimate power.

***

True peace seemed to have come to pass over the following weeks, or at least in Andreas' life. Christmas Day came and went with Maggie and Tassos joining them for the holiday, and everyone, including Yianni, Sappho, and Petro, had agreed to come to their home for a true Saint Basil's Day feast on New Year's Day.

Petro and Sappho arrived early, and Lila immediately dragged her into the kitchen to put her professional skills to good use. Petro took the opportunity to speak privately to his boss.

“I'm not sure I'm fully myself yet, Chief.”

“If you mean from the shooting, I understand.”

“I mean…I looked the man square in the eye. I saw nothing but death. I was…dead. It was a real kick in the ass about the meaning of life.”

Andreas nodded. “Scary.”

“More than scary. I don't think I can do this anymore.”

Andreas bit at his lip. “Yep, the pay's certainly not worth it.”

“That's not why I do it.”

“I know.” He patted Petro on the shoulder.

“So what's your plan?”

“I'm thinking of helping Sappho set up and run her new restaurant on Perissa Beach.”

Andreas' face brightened into a smile. “That's terrific news!” He patted Petro's cheek. “I'm so happy for you two.”

“Thanks, Chief. I didn't know how you'd take it.”

“You know I'll miss you. We'll all miss you. And your job's always open, but if you have a shot at a better life, go for it.”

“Hey, what are you two doing over there?” came a rumbling voice from across the room.

“I guess Detective Kouros is here,” said Andreas.

“Who else?”

“Honey, could you come in here and give us a hand,” yelled Sappho from inside the kitchen.

Andreas whispered, “There's still time to reconsider resigning.”

Petro smiled, but left for the kitchen.

Yianni walked over to Andreas as Petro headed into the kitchen. “So, he told you, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I sensed he might leave from the night we spent in the medical center after the shooting. I still don't know how you broke the news to Sappho about us taking bullets to the middle of our chests—”

“Very carefully.”

“Once she got there she didn't leave his side for a minute. She kept rambling on that somehow she felt responsible for what happened because she'd said something to him about how she couldn't wait for him to be shot. Then, as soon as she heard he was okay, all she did was yell at how she'd kill him if he ever let someone else try to kill him.”

“Makes sense,” smiled Andreas.

“I sure as hell wasn't going to disagree with her. One near-death experience a night was enough for me.”

Andreas laughed.

“Did you hear the other news?”

“Don't tell me you're resigning too?”

“Nah, never, you're stuck with me. I heard it on the radio on the way over. Our old buddy Prada was arrested earlier today and charged with treason.”

“On Saint Basil's Day? That's a little heartless,” said Andreas. “I wonder what prompted the Prime Minister to pull the trigger on that?”

“Well, one thing's for sure,” said Yianni. “He won't be finding the gold coin in his slice of the
vasilopita
”—the round sweet bread specially baked for Saint Basil's Day promised sweetness for all and a year of good luck to the one whose piece held the buried gold coin.

“Maybe Sappho and Petro will find it?”

“Nah, that piece should go to you or Lila. After all, there's a new baby due any day now.”

“The one who'll need the luck is Tassaki, what with a little sister on the way.”

“Do you have a name for her yet?”

Andreas nodded. “It's—”

“Mr. Kaldis.”

He turned around. “Yes, Marietta?”

“There's a call for you.”

“Who is it?”

“All he'd say was ‘Penelope's father.'”

Andreas looked at Yianni. “The Brigadier?”

“Maybe he's calling to wish you
xronia pola
?”

“We all could use many years. Many good years.” Andreas headed to his study and picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“It's me.” The voice came across as clipped, but clearly the Brigadier's.


Xronia pola
,” said Andreas.

“Same to you.”

“Are you okay?” said Andreas.

“I think so.” The voice gained strength. “It's done.”

“What's done?”

“An offer I couldn't refuse.”

Andreas felt the butterflies rise in his stomach. “Where are you?”

“Skiing in the United States. My wife and I won't be coming back. I just wanted to say thank you for caring about what happened to our daughter. You were the only one who did.”

Andreas held his breath, waiting for what would come next.

“I owed it to you to let you know before you read about it in the papers. You're a good man. God bless, and goodbye.”

The phone went dead.

What the hell was that all about
?

Andreas turned on his computer and clicked a link to world headlines. Nothing caught his eye. He punched in United States news and found a slew of political headlines. He added the word skiing, and BREAKING NEWS jumped onto the screen about a tragic accident involving three families on a ski holiday in the American West. He read the article literally holding his breath. The chairman and two high-ranking senior executives of an international consulting firm on holiday with their families died in a freak accident when the cable of the gondola carrying them to the top of a mountain snapped, sending the car crashing down the mountain. There were no survivors.

Andreas crossed himself. He wondered if any members of the plotters' families perished with them. And if they had, did the Brigadier or the man who'd dispatched him as an avenging angel care?

He wondered if anyone cared.

Andreas did. He had to. Someone had to. Andreas bowed his head.

Xronia pola.

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