Joshua Graham - Terminus

“Soon as I tell you? You’re going to wish I never did.”

“The longer you put it off, the more you’re going to wish you never stalled.”

“All right.” Eduardo sighed. “The Hernandez branch deals in…human assets.”

“You make it sound like a temp agency.”

“No, Lito. Think about it.”

It should not have come as a shock, but it did. He knew other cartels had no qualms about it, and it wasn’t unthinkable that Papi would do it given his lack of morals. But Lito had never imagined working in this kind of commerce.

“Don’t tell me you’re talking about human trafficking?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s unacceptable!”

“This kind of thing has been going on since before you were born, before any of us were born.”

“It’s slavery. Do you know what they do with—of course you do. How could this have gone on all this time and nobody told me?”

The old man’s considerable belly bounced as he laughed.

“Because we knew how you’d react.”

“We? Who, you and Alfonso ?” Lito was shouting.

“Your Papi and me! He made me promise not to tell you because he knew you’d want to shut it down.”

Eduardo was right. Papi had known him too well.

But Lito also knew that his men would never allow him to jeopardize everything they’d worked for, sacrificed for, broken the law for—just because among all the things to which he turned a blind eye, he had a conscience about a particular trade.

He had to work his way carefully through this mine field. He relaxed his face, his shoulders, then gave Eduardo a just-kidding smile.

“So the Hernandez branch has been profitable?” he said.

“You might say that. They bring in about thirty percent of our gross revenue.”

“Interesting.”

“So what do you think, really? You want to shut it down, like Papi said you would?”

Lito eyed Eduardo suspiciously. “You got a personal interest in it?”

“I got a personal interest in everything we do.” And he did. Eduardo was one of the organization’s earliest powerful investors.

“So what was the deal with Alfonso?” Lito said. “How’d he know about this?”

“Your father told him to look after you—I was a witness to this. He also said Alfonso could never touch the Hernandez branch because it would offend you. But Alfonso either forgot or ignored the fact that you didn’t know about it. I had him followed for three months before I found out he was trying to turn the Hernandezes on us and move them over to the Suarezes. I recently found out he almost brokered a deal with one of the Suarezes, think his name was Damien. But Damien and the little girl he was selling got caught in the crossfire. After that, Alfonso wised up and decided to lay low and work his way in from the inside.”

Bile rose up in Lito’s throat.

“That’s why he started dating Maria.”

“He was going to marry Maria and use her for leverage—get you to put him in charge of the Hernandez branch as soon as he told you about them. By then he’d have brokered a deal with the Suarezes, figuring you’d want to sell the branch off. If you didn’t see it his way, Alfonso would turn on you and join them. That little—”

“I can’t thank you enough, Eduardo. I had no idea he was doing this.”

“I should have found out earlier, but it was Alfonso .” The old man shook his head. “None of us could believe it.”

Lito glanced over at the picture of him and Maria as elementary school kids, Papi behind them by the big palm tree in their backyard. He tried to imagine that little girl in the picture being again ripped from the loving arms of her family—and sold as a sex slave somewhere far away. Was this really what he wanted, to run an organization that—

“So, Lito? What do you think?”

He couldn’t let on what he really thought. If Eduardo had kept a secret this big from him for so long, there was no way to tell how much he could be trusted—if at all.

“It’s profitable, you say. So it pays for your stuff.”

“Yours too.” Eduardo winked. “But hey, you’re Señor Guzman now, not your dead father. It’s your call. What you say goes.”

“Don’t you forget it. And the Suarezes? What’s their disposition, now that we’ve taken out their mole?”

A wave of the hand. “Don’t even worry about them. They knew Alfonso was full of hot air. Anyway, they’d have to get past me if they wanted to do anything to the Guzmans.”

“They wouldn’t be that stupid.” But what if Eduardo himself had been compromised? Even if he hadn’t, could he sense that Lito wasn’t as on board with this human trafficking as he let on?

The old man sucked in another pull on his cigar and spewed out another toxic cloud.

“Now you know.” He looked Lito straight in the eyes, not coughing, not smoking. “What’s it going to be?”

Lito’s shirt stuck to his back. He walked over to Eduardo, signaling that the meeting was over, and squeezed his shoulder.

“Business as usual, my friend. Business as usual.”

THE CONSTRUCT RESUMED AND THE SCENE dissolved into a new one:

The terminus at Victoria Station.

Nick could imagine nothing worse than reliving this day. Yet if he didn’t, the memory would continue to fester and swell like a boil. Perhaps sharing this experience with someone he cared about would help.

“You don’t have to do this, Nick.”

Hope stretched out her hand.

Feeling light-headed, weak in the knees, he reached for it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s a difficult memory.” He rested his forehead in his hand, and sighed. “Over the millennia I’ve confronted demons, armies, and the forces of nature at its most destructive, but none of that made me as anxious as I feel now, thinking about it.”

“If it’s too much…”

Nick took a deep breath.

Shut his eyes.

Gathering all his courage, he stood tall, held Hope’s hand firmly, and began the memory-construct.

It had been some three years since Sophia left, and he barely recognized her when she returned to their flat in London. But there she was, standing at the door, her flaxen hair now midnight black, her eyes… He shuddered. She wore a black dress, black gloves, and held herself with regal comportment. Nothing like the sweet, sassy young woman with whom he’d fallen in love and married.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she said.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners?” Nikolai stepped back to let her in. He couldn’t believe he was treating her like a stranger. Couldn’t believe she was a stranger.

“Hmmm.” She strode into the living area, stopped, looked around. “And where is Clara?”

“At school, naturally.”

“I told you in my letter I wanted her to be here when I returned.”

“You’re early.”

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “So I am.” Then she giggled, but it wasn’t Sophia’s giggle. Not a trace of that familiar mirth.

Who was this woman?

“Won’t you have a seat?” He stepped over to the stove, where a kettle was steaming. “Tea?”

“Thank you, yes.” She sat. Odd that she’d traveled without luggage. There had to be a thousand things to ask her, but he thought it best to let her set the tone and pace. He’d assumed it would take a great deal of effort to suppress his anger over her abandoning Clara and him after he’d given up just about everything to be with her. But she was so unlike the woman who’d left him he felt no inclination to berate her. In fact, he had no idea how to talk to her.

“Thank you,” she said when he placed the cup of tea on the table in front of her.