Chapter Ten: What Does this Ultimately Have to do With Us?

 

What should have been the day we go back home after a fun-filled, yet relaxing vacation is now the day we have to go to the Embassy and try and get protection while we’re here, which could be days or even weeks. As I watch Brock gingerly moving his arm in a physical therapy session, my thoughts turn to the same question that floods my mind: who is targeting us and why? Yes, we know about The Shadows and that they’re an international terrorist organization but why US? What have we done to incur their curiosity or wrath for that matter?

“You look lost in thought,” I hear Brock say to me. I snap back to being present. I never knew he was done or that the therapist had left.

I raise my head and see him giving me a pensive look. “Yeah, I am.” I fold my arms and curl up on the black leather sofa in the living room. Thankfully, the Embassy made accommodations to stay in a safe house while we try and move past this “incident” what the Athens police called it. Of course, this wasn’t just an incident. However, Emannuel has been great to work with and I thank God Gray was able to contact him so quickly.

Brock sits down next to me and puts his good arm around me. I lean against him and close my eyes. “Look, we’ll find out what The Shadows wants with us, and justice will be done. I have some of my paralegals looking into some connections to see what they can dig up. Since The Embassy doesn’t seem too interested in American citizens being threatened and even attacked on their watch, it’s up to us and Emmanuel. I refuse to leave here until we know the Shadows agenda, what it has to do with us, and that we have protection—at the least.”

“That could take days or weeks, Brock. You have work and so do I. We can’t just take a sabbatical with you trying to explain to your legal team that we have to stay in Greece because we’re being targeted by an international terrorist group, one who may have been responsible for a bomb threat at the airport, a dead body in our hotel closet, being followed, threatened. Now you recovering from surgery from a knife attack. It all sounds fantastical. I mean who goes through a year of all we have and then the nightmare follows us to the very place we deicide to vacation in? It doesn’t make sense.

“None of this make sense, but here we are. I’ll be damned if I sit and wait for Athens to do anything. We’re just American citizens, and according to them, nobodies they care to even put their time and manpower into investigating and catching these criminals. Who knows, maybe it’s like the Mob and half of them are in on it,” Brock chuckles.

“I just feel like I’m in a James Bond movie –“

“Am I James Bond?” He snickers.

“Of course, even got the Sean Connery dark hair to match.” I reach up and swipe a piece of hair off his forehead. It was true. Brock’s hair was thick, and even though streaks of gray showed through, his jet-black hair looked much like 007 in his later years. He would be turning 60 in a few months and the wrinkles in his forehead and fine lines around his eyes were getting more prominent. Of course, who was I to talk? In the last year, my hair was nearly all gray, mixed with blonde, my natural color. My bobbed cut was now growing out, nearly to my shoulders now. My fine lines and wrinkles creased across my forehead and near my eyes. I have perpetual purple indents under my eyes that look as if I hadn’t slept in a year. To be honest, I probably average 5 hours a night now. It’s like my life has turned a dark corner, one I never anticipated and wanted.

“Listen, let’s go somewhere and get away from all this doom and gloom. We can take a ferry to some of the islands—Santorini, Mykonos to name a few. We can go in the morning.”

“Brock, we’re in a safe house for a reason.”

“I know but we can’t just stay here, isolated and only allowed to leave when told. This is our vacation, dammit and I refuse to stay cooped up. Plus, they said it would be a few days until they would have some answers, if that. I want to see the sights and check out some ancient ruins. After all, this is what coming to Greece was about, to see things we would never see in the States.”

He's right. We’ve only seen The Parthenon, which was marred by The Shadows stalking us, and the Botanical Gardens at Athens. Why not go check out the islands and see other landmarks? “Okay, let’s do it,” I say, raising my head and kissing him. We embrace and kiss some more and then he leads me into the bedroom so we can drown out the noise and confusion and just be with each other.

***

The next morning, the sun shone brightly through our bedroom window. I glance at my watch that read 6:42. Brock was still asleep, so I quietly climb out of bed and, yawning, walk to the bathroom. A hot shower helps relax my muscles and when I climb out, after turning the hot to cold gradually, I feel invigorated and ready to get out of this stuffy small place and see the rest of what Greece has to offer. Screw being afraid. The Shadows were not going to keep us hostage and fearful of every step we took. If the last year taught me anything it was to make the most of every day because you never know when God or some lunatic decides your time is up.

When Brock woke up and got ready, we decided to hit a small café to get breakfast. Emmanuel told us the place was in a hidden alcove, and even though we really didn’t understand where we were, I figured it wasn’t too far from Athens. The house, if you could call it that, was a two-bedroom rambler with a small kitchen, bathroom, and living room – just big enough for a small family if needed. The colors were neutral and not much in terms of décor, but it was a place for refuge not a four-star hotel. There were other houses next to them, in a row of safe houses but that was it.

As we walk to the café, I notice the dilapidated buildings, many with stucco and limestone looking as if they were hundreds of years old, which they very well could have been. Café Kleos wasn’t busy, just a few people sitting at a table, but the quaint place was charming. Greenery was placed all around, some on tables as a centerpiece, others hanging from the ceiling or on tables. Portraits of Greek Gods and Goddesses lined the red back wall, making them stand out. The six or seven tables and a handful of booths were spread apart by at least five feet. A few fans were turning in the dim light.

“Two?” The hostess asks in broken English. She was a middle-aged woman with long black hair pulled into a ponytail. She wore a black shirt and khaki slacks. Her nametag read Alena. She grabs two menus.

“Yes, please,” Brock says, motioning me to lead the way with Alena in front. She asks if a window booth is OK and we both nod. The stone table is adorned with the requisite silverware wrapped in cloth napkins, with a simple red candle encased in a glass dome and a few yellow flowers on each side as an accent. The seating was comfortable and placing my hands on the table, it feels smooth, not rough. I pore over the menu as I suddenly realize how hungry I am. The night before, and actually for days, my appetite has been low, waiting for Brock to recover and hear how the investigation is going with The Shadows, hoping it yields promising results.

I order the Greek Omelet with mushrooms, green peppers, olives, cheese, and a Greek sauce Alena said was a favorite. A cup of sweet tea tops it off. Brock orders the same but with a side of sourdough toast and coffee.

“This is a nice place,” I say, glancing around the small café.

“It is. See, this is what we should be doing, not worrying about being stalked and attacked by a group of henchmen and looking over our shoulders everywhere we turn.  You know, when I was doing some research last night while you were sleeping, I noticed that The Shadows operate in many different countries, but their headquarters are in Greece. Not only are they a terrorist organization but they are a justice league of sorts. People hire them to enact vigilante justice out of the eye of the government. If people think they’ve been wronged, they hire these mercenaries to “take care of the problem,” hence why they’re called The Shadows. They operate in a very secluded area and can carry out cyberattacks to bring a company down, or to attack people. Emmanuel said people pay a small fortune to right wrongs and get justice that governments can’t or refuse to get.” The more Brock talked, the more he was animating his words and his expression turned to an excitement of sorts.

“So basically, vigilante justice.”

“Precisely.”

“But again, what does that have to do with us, a senior couple in UTAH of all places?”

“This is the million-dollar question.”