Free Killing Sarai by J. A. Redmerski Page A

the beds. But it took her far too long to pull it off, I see.
    “ Hurry !”
    Her eyes are red and glistening with moisture.
    I turn the iPad around on the table to face me. Using my finger, I open my private email account and then the folder where I filed away the attachment message I received last night from my liaison:
     
    “What have you done?” Fleischer inquired the night before through the live video feed. “The girl was not part of the deal.” His German accent always bleeding heavily through his English.
    “ Guzmán’s daughter was there,” I said. “I saw her on the compound before I entered the house.” I looked once toward the restroom where the girl was still showering after fifteen minutes. “Javier Ruiz has an impressive operation.”
    “Are you certain you saw the same girl?”
    I was offended by Fleischer’s lack of confidence in me, that after years of working together and never being wrong in my assessments that he would still second-guess my findings.
    “It was the same girl,” I confirmed evenly. “I took half of the money Javier agreed to and left, as I was ordered to do.”
    “And then how did you end up with the other girl?”
    “She escaped the compound and hid in my car.”
    “And you did not know she was there?” He appeared surprised.
    “Yes, I knew,” I confirmed.
    “Then explain why—”
    “Remember, Fleischer, that you are not my employer. It would be wise not to speak to me as if you were.”
    Fleischer swallowed his pride and raised his chin to appear more confident in his moment beneath me.
    “What did Javier offer to have Guzmán killed?”
    “Not a fraction of what Guzmán offered to kill Javier and Izel and for the safe return of his daughter.”
    I added, “I could have fulfilled the contract while I was there.”
    “Yes,” Fleischer said. “But that was not part of the plan, the same as keeping the runaway with you.”
    “The girl will be useful.”
    “So far, she has proven anything but,” Fleischer said, regaining the confidence I stripped from him before. “Everything has changed. The plan. The contract. Your orders.”
    “What are my new orders?” I asked.
    “Vonnegut has given no new orders yet,” he said. “He awaits my contact. Your new orders will depend on the information I get from you now.”
    Fleischer and I locked eyes in this moment, both of us sharing the same thoughts: You are my brother and I will do nothing to betray you, no matter our profession or the orders that either of us are ever given.
    No one but the two of us know that we share the same father. But over the years since our recruit by the Order when we were young boys, we have grown apart. It is often easy to forget that we share the same blood, especially by Fleischer, first name Niklas, who has lived in my shadow in the Order for so many years.
    I simply nodded, knowing that Niklas would relay to our employer, Vonnegut, whatever I needed him to.
    To retain the relationship between my brother and me, I offered him information he never asked for:
    “The girl will be useful, Niklas,” I repeated, calling him by his first name to offer a truce. “It seems that she is more to Javier than Javier would like us to know.”
    Niklas nodded in response, understanding my intent.
    “You mean to use the girl to trade for Guzmán’s daughter,” he stated.
    “If it comes down to that, yes,” I said. “Tell Vonnegut that I have it under control, but that I will await whatever orders he chooses.”
    “I will tell him,” Niklas agreed.
    I clicked on the ‘play’ button then to watch the video Javier sent to Vonnegut, in which Fleischer, as my liaison, was then ordered to pass along to me.
    It’s just as I thought: Javier has the girl’s friend, Lydia, in a compromising position. He wants the girl to see it, to know that if she doesn’t give herself up or convince me to take her back to him, Lydia will die. I knew then as I watched the scene unfold on the video before me