The Eye of Heaven

24

Janus Benedict set his coffee cup down on the teak table and gazed at the islands off the port side, their bluffs rising from the water in defiance of erosion and man-made progress. They’d gone ashore the prior evening with his guests: three gentlemen from Syria, who seemed most interested in his surface-to-air missile selection, as well as the availability of the Russian Ka-50 Black Shark helicopters that he regularly brokered for the cash-strapped Russian manufacturer. Of course, their negotiations would be lengthy and ongoing, and no religious beliefs were allowed to get in the way of their enjoyment of the Greek islands’ pleasures, nor their appreciation of Janus’s supplied entertainment, both chemical and feminine.

Janus’s head was fuzzy from the extra two glasses of grappa he’d consumed against his better judgment, but sometimes one made sacrifices in order to make one’s guests feel welcome. The Syrians seemed to have had a wonderful time, and Janus was confident that would translate into a higher price for the arms than they’d have been willing to pay had he provided sodas and sandwiches.

He checked the screen of his iPad and confirmed that all three were still sound asleep in their staterooms. The hidden cameras came in handy for more than creating insurance for himself should something turn ugly; they also enabled him to be a consummate host and anticipate his guests’ every desire before they even felt them.

For now, the staterooms were quiet, and Janus was confident that he’d have at least another hour or two to himself before he’d have to become the entertainment committee again.

Reginald stumbled up the stairs, a pair of Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses shielding his eyes from the worst of the morning glare, a cigarette dangling from his lips, as he sat down across from his brother and pointed at his coffee cup. A white-uniformed steward scurried from the bowels of the salon and poured him a generous measure of dark roasted coffee, and then, after registering Reginald’s nod, he returned with a snifter of Baileys and poured it into the cup.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask you how you’re feeling this morning,” Janus said, watching his younger sibling raise the cup to his lips with an unsteady hand. “Little jittery, I’d say.”

“It was a demanding night. That Sophie—”

“Yes, quite — spare me the gory details. We do what we must to make the clients feel at home. And we acquitted ourselves with aplomb. I think these chappies are clay ripe for the potter’s wheel.”

“With the amount of coke they went through, they bloody well ought to be,” Reginald said, his face drawn from the aftermath of his own overconsumption.

“They seemed amenable by the end of the evening to reconsidering the value we add to their assumed prices for the helicopters, direct from the manufacturer.”

“Not that they’d be able to buy them direct in the first place.”

“Ah, but it’s not so important that they grasp ugly realities as that they’re happy about the deal. And I’d say, based on their enthusiasm and stamina until the small hours, they’ll be as happy as men in their positions can be. After all, it’s not as though it’s their money. It’s all part of the dance. They need to assure whoever they report to, their accountants or backers, that they got the best value available. Our job is to help them do that while making their visit as pleasant and diverting as possible.”

“Then mission accomplished.”

“Yes. And good news, old boy. You won’t need to endure any more moments of amusement. I’ve got the jet in Athens waiting to take you to Mexico later today. After breakfast, Simon will ferry you ashore, where I’ve made arrangements for you to catch the first flight off the island.”

“Mexico? Good heavens. Why on earth would I want to go to Mexico? Beastly place full of bandits, isn’t it?” Reginald complained.

“That may well be, but our clients there purchase a large amount of our product, and have expanded globally, so when they want to discuss updating their ordnance it’s a lucrative priority. That, and those two meddling pests, the Fargos, are back in Mexico City. I want to be prepared if they’ve discovered something and I’m not willing to lose the day it would take me to fly there if they have. So I’m sending you to hold talks with the Los Zetas cartel about their expansion requirements and to personally supervise any action required with the Fargos.” Janus took another taste of coffee. “And, Reginald — these are very important customers. Quite volatile, I should add. You’ll be on their home turf, as they say, so I’d caution you to behave accordingly. Don’t do anything that would anger them or this could well be the last I see of you.”

“Brilliant. You’re sending me into psycho country to parley with a bunch of gun-happy lunatics.”

“They’re not that bad. And, as I underscored, rather profitable and worth caution in your approach. I’m sure as long as you keep a level head, you’ll get along swimmingly. As for the Fargos, don’t do anything rash. If action is required, consult with me first. Do I make myself clear?” Janus warned in a menacing tone.

“You don’t need to speak to me like I’m a five-year-old.” Reginald finished his coffee and signaled to the invisible steward for another. “I understand. I’m to play nice with the peasants and act as a paperweight with the Fargos. Should any thinking be required, I’m to leave that to you. Did I miss anything?”

“Reginald, I’m serious. There will be no impulsive outbursts. This is a personal matter for me now. Don’t muck it up.”

“Message received. I’ll be impeccably behaved as I trade beads with the natives. You’ll never know I was there.”

Janus’s eyes narrowed and then he nodded. It was as close to capitulation as his brother would come. Hopefully, it would be sufficient. Janus knew Reginald was itching to prove himself but still had youthful impulsiveness to outgrow. Besides, the regional head of Los Zetas he’d be meeting wasn’t much older than Reginald, so perhaps they’d get along well. And, of course, there was little downside Janus could see to having his brother on the ground if the Fargos required attention.

The following day, Sam was shaving in the bathroom when his phone on the nightstand rang. Remi stirred at the sound and rolled over to answer it.

“Hel … Hello?” she said, her voice thick with sleep.

“Remi, it’s Lazlo. I must say, I’m surprised to find you still asleep at seven a.m. when there’s treasure to discover …”

“Uh … good morning, Lazlo.”

“How soon can you be at this miserable prison to meet with me?”

“I thought it was rather nice.”

“Beside the point.”

She checked her watch. “Depending on traffic, maybe an hour.” She cleared her throat and sat up. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I thought you might be interested in what I did during the depths of the night.”

“Which is …?”

“Pondered my miserable existence with genuine remorse and not a small dollop of anxiety. Oh, and decrypted the manuscript.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’ve cracked it. Of course, you’ll need to work out what it all means. Something about a temple and snakes with wings. Odd bunch, the Spanish.”

Sam came out of the bathroom when he heard Remi’s voice. She waved him over and handed him the phone.

“Lazlo?”

“Top of the morning to yer, young man!” Lazlo said with a passable Irish brogue.

“You’re awfully cheerful.”

“I’ve decoded the manuscript. I invited your better half to come and join me for coffee while we go over it. The invitation extends to you, of course, unless you’re otherwise occupied.”

Sam blinked twice and glanced at Remi. “That’s great news. You’re a magician. We’ll be there in two shakes.”

“Take your time. I’ve no pressing engagements now that I’m purer than a nun’s prayers.”

“Or sober at least.”

“That also. See you soon.”

Sam tossed the phone on the bed. “Just a suggestion, but today might be a good day to hurry in the shower.”

“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” Remi said, already on her way into the bathroom. “This is exciting. I love this part. When it all comes together.”

Sam smiled. “Me too.”