Life as a New Hire Ch. 32

"Works for me. Hello Up."

"You two are being dicks," Up glared. "Do you have any friends?"

I looked at Pamela who looked back at me. We both looked back to Up.

"Just each other," we jointly affirmed. His reaction to a life-and-death situation was very different than ours and it was showing. It got better too.

[Hungarian] "Hi Cáel and Cáel's Grandmother," Monika called out as she and the other five girls entered the brewery/pub. Unlike us, the girls had made better time because they knew the town.

"Who are they?" Up whispered.

"Do I have to explain the Birds and the Bees to you?" Pamela responded in a loud clear voice.

"No," Up mumbled.

"Then don't worry about them," Pamela smirked.

[Hungarian] "Cáel, are you going to be long?" Orsi inquired. "The girls and I were thinking we could all have an early dinner together."

"I'm being debriefed by a deep cover NATO operative who is in this country illegally, so it shouldn't take too long," I enlightened her.

"Do you two want to get arrested?" Up groused.

"Nah," Pamela replied. "In case you missed it, no one here gives a damn about what happened across the bloody river. No locals got shot, so they are choosing blissful ignorance," Pamela taunted him. "Besides, there hasn't been a straight female law enforcement agent created yet who can resist Cáel here. Me? I'm a contortionist. I'm not terribly worried."

"You should be," he grunted. "One call to the Terrorelhárítási Központ (TEK - the Hungarian National Counter-terrorism Centre) and you guys are going into a deep, dark hole. They have a different view of Civil Rights in this country."

"Scared?" I asked Pamela.

"Yes. You?"

"Terrified," I stifled a yawn. "Let's cooperate."

"Agreed. Okay Up, what do you want to know?" Pamela offered politely enough.

"What can you tell me about the Metro shootout?" he began.

Orsi and Anya joined us with their beers, fresh from the distillery.

"Ladies, this is a private discussion," Up tried to dismiss my prospective fuck buddies. Blink.

[Hungarian] "Is it possible you are incapable of a verbal exchange in the local language?" I asked Up. See, saying 'do you speak Hungarian?' was probably a phrase he'd memorized.

Up stared at me a few seconds too long.

"Let's keep the conversation to French, Mandarin, or Russian," Up countered. I guessed he was ignorant of Euro-Chick multi-linguicism.

[Russian] "Well, why don't you start with what agency you are with? It is painfully obvious you are not with the Central Intelligence Agency, that's for sure," I accused him.

[Russian] "Who I am with is not important," he declared. Pamela shifted around the table to make room for the arriving girls.

[Russian] "Do you feel that?" Pamela smiled at Up. "That's my knife pressing against your femoral artery." Pamela was beside him with one hand under the table.

[Russian] "Here is how it is going to go down; you will answer our questions and we are going to answer your questions. Or, I'm going to slice your femoral artery from mid-thigh to crotch with my blade while I crush your trachea so you can't scream, much less beg for help while we walk away. You will be dead inside a minute. How do you want this to play out?" Pamela laid out her proposal.

I noticed Anya blanch. She apparently understood Russian as well.

[Bulgarian] "It is okay Anya," I tilted her chin so that we were eye to eye. "We are trying to save lives, not take them. You saw how we behaved on your boat. In this fight, they are the aggressors and we are going to stop them."

[Bulgarian] "By threatening to murder that man?" Anya reposted.

[Bulgarian] "He either agrees to tell us what we need to know and will keep you and your friends out of this, or yes, Pamela will kill him," I explained. "You saved our lives. I cannot repay that kindness by letting these other people threaten you."

[Bulgarian] "Oh...okay," Anya gave me a weak smile. Back to Up.

[Russian] "Do you know what happens if I end up dead after coming to meet you?" Up grumbled.

[Russian] "I'll use an Ouija board and let you know how it turns out," Pamela gave a shark-like grin.

[Russian] "At the Metro," I decided to move things along, "me and the people I'm with were jumped by a team of mercenaries who belonged to an organization called the Condottieri. They were definitely second-stringers. They were sloppy, so they ended up dead."

[Russian] "And?" Up prodded.

[Russian] "And either the next words out of your mouth had better be useful to us, or be what you want said over your unmarked grave, Asshole," Pamela purred.

[Russian] "I can't tell you that," he stated. I shrugged.

"Ladies, it is time for us to leave," I addressed my boat-buddies as I stood to leave. "Say good-bye to Mr. Up."

[Bulgarian] "Is she going to kill him now?" Anya's eyes were wide with worry.

[Bulgarian] "Yes; yes she is, Anya. This is not a game. This is very harsh reality and I'm sorry I've gotten you involved in this mess," I sympathized.

"G...good-bye Mr. Up," Anya said softly as a tear escaped down her cheek.

With that incredibly human reaction, it dawned on Up that Pamela was an assassin with ice-water in her veins and that his intransigence was about to cost him his life.

"Wait," he called out. [Russian] "I am with the National Security Agency. I've been assigned to track major financial transactions between key global financial institutions.

We discovered funds from Intesa Sanpaolo, a major Italian banking institution, had been involved with numerous work permits for properties in London we've associated with those so-called Ukrainians in the All Hallows Shootout," he confessed.

[Russian] "I know those guys," Pamela laughed. [Russian] "They used to be Banco Ambrosiano Veneto. They were called 'God's Bankers', and not for being even remotely holy. Their leadership consisted of corrupt Masons, so I think that points to the Condottieri, not the Egyptians."

[Russian] "Egyptians? What Egyptians?" Up got interested. "Muslim Brotherhood?"

[Russian] "No. Contact Federal Prosecutor Javiera Castello for the details on the Egyptians. We don't have the time to bring you up to speed," I told him. "Suffice it to say, you are on the right path and watch your ass. These guys have no problem shooting up a crowd to kill one person."

[Russian] "Fine. What does any of that have to do with the bomb threat today?" Up requested.

[Russian] "That was totally fabricated by me," I confessed. "It turned out there was a top flight hit squad in Budapest. They bribed a member of a covert operations group to betray the group's leadership whom I was meeting with to discuss regional security. When they attacked, my friend here and I provided a distraction so that leader could escape.

That left us with our backs to the River Tisza. We met these fine young women, who saved our lives by taking us onboard their boat and bringing us here. Since the opposition was quite large and on the west side of the river, I needed to keep the ferry on the east bank," I brought Up up to speed.

[Russian] "Don't forget the parlay and you nearly getting killed," Anya interjected.

[Russian] "Parlay? What is that code for?" Up asked.

[Russian] "It is code for Cáel doing stupid shit," Pamela chastised me.

[Russian] "He was trying to save a girl - a girl running with a dangerous crowd," Anya insisted.

[Russian] "We ain't too pretty," Pamela hummed.

[Russian] "We ain't too proud," I completed. Crickets.

[Russian] "You are very pretty, Cáel," Anya complemented me and squeezed my hand on the table.

"Oh my God," Pamela gasped. "We are living in an anti-Billy Joel wilderness."

"Don't sweat it," I grinned. "You are just as cute as Christie Brinkley."

"That's nice of you to say," Pamela smiled, "considering she's younger than me."

"Oh! You are finally saying something I can understand," Monika yelped. "I know Ms. Brinkley. She's an environmental activist...but she's old." I chuckled.

[German] "Monika, I swear to you, Cáel and I are not romantically, or physically, involved," Pamela addressed the issue. "Call me old again and I'll cut your hair off while you are asleep. Are we clear?"

"Yes Ms...Mrs...I don't know your name?" Monika paled.

"Don't!" Pamela fixed me with a spooky glare. I was about to call her 'Honey Boo-boo'.

"Pamela in Greek means 'Honey', I swear," I grinned.

"That wasn't what you were thinking," Pamela's eyes narrowed. She looked over at the girls. "Cáel and I are psychically linked." They all nodded. "I think we've had enough of Greeks for one day," Pamela noted. I conceded the issue.

[Russian] "Have you told me everything?" Up persisted.

"The key words you might want to be looking for are Ajax, Alal, Baraqu and Cáel," I suggested.

"Barak? Is there an Islamist angle?" Up showed his mind was stuck in 2013.

"B-a-r-a-q-u," I spelled it out for him. "It is a Sumerian name, but any religion that man practiced was a long, long time ago. In fact, the fate of Western Christendom as well as Islam is being decided in China as we speak, so get with the program."

"This 'Khanate' situation? Strategically speaking, the Chinese should settle their hash soon," Up pronounced. "At the same time, the Russians will close in from the north and that's that," he sounded confident.

"Whatever," I shrugged. "Let's get a bit to eat," I suggested to everyone else.

"Up, don't send the police after us, or have someone tail us...please," Pamela requested as she stood. Up didn't reply, which was okay. We weren't expecting a truthful comeback.

Outside, the girls got all cuddly (YES!!). I had one final piece of business to perform. How were we going to find the rest of our company? I was going to use a United States espionage technique that (almost) never failed. I was going to pretend to be a Canadian. I borrowed Anya's phone for this call. Ring...ring...

"Bonjour?" a female voice murmured. She was so sexy.

[French] "Anais, it's Cáel," I let that sink in.

"Cáel? It is really you?" she sounded suitably shocked.

"I'm afraid so, and I need a big favor," I tried to remain upbeat.

"Oh...of course you do. Hang on a moment," she insisted. She was having our phone call recorded and traced. For some reason...okay, I KNEW why she didn't trust me. Forty-five seconds later, "Who is Anya and where are you calling from?" she spoke using The Force.

"Anya is a Bulgarian mechanical engineering student," I sighed. "She's petite, dark-skinned and we haven't had sex yet," I added the last bit as a plea for mercy.

"Give her the phone," Anais commanded.

"Anya, this is a former girlfriend of mine. She lives in Quebec City, Quebec, Canada and she is with the Gendarmerie royale du Canada, aka a Mountie," I told Anya before handing her phone back.

"Hello?" Anya cautiously entered the interrogation. Twenty questions later, "Hold on...I said...shut the fuck up!" she was screaming over the interruptions at the end. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but I saw Cáel get the shit beat out of him, I saw a person killed and I've been shot at with automatic weapons. I've had a bad day. Are we clear!

My name is Anya, I am Bulgarian. I'm studying Mechanical Engineering at the Czech Technical University in Prague," she informed Anais. "We are in Mindszent, Hungary. No, I will not give you my last name...why? Because people are trying to KILL ME! Didn't I make that clear earlier?" Anya gave me the phone back.

"Cáel, what have you gotten that poor girl into?" Anais blasted me.

"Well...you remember one of those curses you laid on me - the one where you hoped I was trapped in a women's insane asylum and forgotten about?" I reminded her.

"Yes; the Freddy Krueger curse. I recall it vividly," she growled.

Anais wasn't going to hang up on me. She had anger issues and one of the things she adored about me was my willingness to put up with her rages in and out of the bedroom. She kept her fury bottled up at work, so sex with me had been a great release. Sadly for us both, I was a pig.

"You got your wish," I chuckled.

"I ended up working at Havenstone, where I'm one of two male employees in the entire corporation. My career has taken a few unexpected turns since we last talked."

"Thus you finding yourself in Hungary," she interjected. "Are you really in danger?"

"Did you hear about the Budapest M3 firefight yesterday?" I meekly provided. Pause

"Oh my God! You really are in danger," Anais gasped. "Turn yourself in immediately."

"It is not that simple," I replied. "This kind of trouble, the police can't protect me from, Anais. My father is dead. He was murdered two weeks ago. You can check that out. If you like, you can call US Federal Prosecutor Javiera Castello."

"Is she attractive?" Anais grilled me.

"Of course she's attractive. Every girl I meet adjusts twenty pounds toward their desired weight and ten years toward their twentieth birthdays," I griped. "It is a curse." No, it wasn't.

"What is sex with her like?" she demanded to know.

"I haven't had sex with her, Anais. She has me under investigation. The sex will come once she's put me behind bars," I evaded.

"Do you have a girlfriend now?" Jeesh, I had forgotten how jealous she could be.

"I'm engaged to billionairess entrepreneur Hana Sulkanen, Anais, but it is an arranged marriage," I kept paddling.

"You are getting married...to someone else?" she was incredulous.

"How about I explain this over dinner when I get back to the States?" I offered. "Anyplace in New York City - on me."

"Why don't you come to Quebec?" she countered. 'Because I like my freedom' was the honest answer. Thinking fast...

"I am currently working with a multi-national commission with the Republic of Ireland's UN mission. I have to remain on-call for various assignments," I wove my deception.

"That's a lie. You just said you were working with Havenstone," she snapped.

"Check it out yourself. I have a certified diplomatic position with Ireland," I counter-trapped her.

"You are such a gifted liar, I don't know what to believe anymore," she sounded sullen.

"How about this: you send out feelers to whatever offices Ireland has in Canada and call Javiera - you can call Havenstone if you want. My boss is Katrina Love of Executive Services. If what I've told you checks out, would you please call my roommate," I requested.

I gave her my home number and asked her to relay whatever message Odette had given him to give to me.

"I miss you, Cáel," she confessed. "You broke my heart and I hate you," she lied about the second half.

"I was the one who screwed up. I still have your boots and uniform in my closet. I had the suit cleaned and the boots polished," I replied.

"Why didn't you return them, then?" she grumbled.

"You swore out charges against me, Anais," I recalled. "Things I didn't want to go to jail for."

"Oh...sorry, but you had it coming," she insisted. Going to jail for bestiality would not have looked good on any transcript. I wasn't going to beat her up over that.

"I think we both screwed up," I allowed. Buckling under wouldn't have done. Anais didn't want a wimp. She wanted a guy who could forgive her.

"Still, I was the one who started it, so the buck stops with me," I took the romantic hit.

"I'll make some calls," Anais conceded. "If things check out, I'll be in touch. Prendre soin de mon amour," she signed off in the same manner she did when I was in college.

"Maybe she is not so much an 'ex' girlfriend?" Orsi leered. It was the old 'if he is soooo good that she still wants him back after a colossal screw up, I wanted a taste' expression.

"Do you think she will help you?" Katalin inquired.

"She'll help," Pamela huffed playfully. "My grandson has plenty of ex-girlfriends. Most of them want him back, despite his colorful lifestyle. It is one of his more amusing qualities."

"Let's get something to eat," I tried to turn the conversation away from my past sexcapades.

"You are engaged?" Jolan didn't miss a beat.

"It is complicated," I sighed. "Let's just say I really like her, but she's seven years older, divorced with one young daughter and has a father who hates that I live and breathe."

"Do you have any male friends?" Monika joined the Cáel Quiz Bowl.

"Yes," I replied with confidence. "My roommate Timothy and I are great friends."

"He's gay," Pamela pierced their disbelief. "He and Cáel are true brothers-in-arms, I'll give Cáel that much."

"Do you have any straight male friends?" Orsi was enjoying taunting me.

"Do Chaz or Vincent count?" I looked to Pamela.

"They are straight males, but they don't really know you yet," Pamela failed to be of much help. "I think Vincent insinuated he'd shoot you if you dated any of his three daughters. It was friendly of him to warn you. I supposed that could be construed as liking you."

"Are all your acquaintances violent?" Anya seemed worried.

"Vincent isn't violent. He's with the US FBI," I retorted. Pause. "Okay, he carries a gun and shoots it...he's a law officer. They can do that."

"You seem to be stressed," Orsi put an arm around my waist. "Let us ease your worries." Hallelujah!