Sasha J.M. - The Grasshopper

“I’m interested in whether the members of the television crew were still working or whether they had gone up to their rooms?”

“Most of them are still working, sir. Only the editor-in-chief and Miss Babe are in their rooms.”

“Very well. Thank you. Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Kaella.”

Prince got off the elevator on the third floor and walked down the hallway looking for room 314. The head of Babe’s television station, Capital City TV, had booked the same hotel, following Prince’s instructions, and informed him of Babe’s room number.

He stood in front of her door for a while. There was no sound. Slowly, indecisively he raised his hand as though to knock, then unexpectedly lowered it, turned around and walked back to the elevator.

Pascal managed to calm Svetlana down.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he said.

“I don’t want to. I talked about you, now I want us to talk about me,” Svetlana said.

“OK. You want me to talk now, how beautiful you are?”

“No. I want something else. You said that you don’t want me to be in danger.”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Don’t you think that I put myself in jeopardy two years ago, when I started working for your campaign?”

“I do. But that was just the beginning. We didn’t even dream that I would become a presidential candidate. Now the threat is much greater.”

“At the time, when your team was being created, I had just gotten my Master’s degree. I could always choose boys, but you were the man that I wanted. I was fascinated by the legend of you, your good looks, intelligence, courage… your huge libido. Your refusal to be tied down by one woman.”

“Refusal or perhaps inability?” said Pascal.

“For me you were a challenge. With my knowledge and my youth I could have chosen any well-paid job. And I chose to work for your campaign. A life-threatening job with paid food and rent.”

“I didn’t know that. I thought that you were with us out of conviction?”

“I guess love and passion are also a type of conviction, Pascal.”

“Yes, one could say that. But all that is not important now. We will talk about it when we meet again. Don’t hope that I will change my decision. You are leaving tomorrow. I’m firing you. No more food and rent.”

“Remember when I took some time off a year ago?”

“Svetlana, please, get serious.”

“And I sent my friend from university as a replacement. Do you remember?”

“No.”

“Before she came to your headquarters I deceived her a little. I told her that even after a one-year effort I hadn’t succeeded in getting you in my bed. I’m sure you’ll remember her. Her name is Norma.”

“I don’t remember that name.”

“Probably not. But I’m sure you remember her body.”

Pascal didn’t answer.

“Norma immediately reported proudly to me that she slept with you already on the first night.”

Pascal was still silent.

“On the seventh day of my vacation I called you up and asked what you wanted: for Norma to continue working or for me to come back. You said that I should come back, as soon as possible. I heard something in your voice then. Something… that I needed so badly. At that moment there was no happier girl than me.”

“Svetlana, you yourself say that you knew what I was like. That I was just a challenge to you.”

“I was happy, because you weren’t with me only because of the inability to move around, the cramped space, the small number of people that you had been surrounded by for a long time. I gave you a choice and you chose me; between two girls, both much younger than you. I wasn’t afraid of older women. I believed that I could successfully take advantage of your midlife crisis and your age, and forever capture your age with my youth.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Svetlana?”

“Pascal, have you ever been with married women? With the mothers of another man’s children?”

“I’ve never answered such questions. Even in much less important moments. Do you understand at all what might happen tomorrow?”

“Have you, Pascal?”

“I have.”

Svetlana brushed the hair from his forehead. Holding herself up, she leaned her pear-shaped breast on his biceps and gently kissed his lips, getting his face wet with her tears. After that she got up, picked up her thong and bra from the floor, and said:

“I’ll take your advice and I won’t put myself at risk. I’m leaving… tonight.”

Pascal wondered whether it was the last time that he would be seeing Svetlana’s naked body or any woman’s naked body.

Alpha was going down the stairs, walking behind Bear and Iceman, two members of his A Squad, who were carrying the body of former president Xing, rolled up in a carpet. Having reached the garage, they passed by the parked state cars, ready for tomorrow’s escort and security of the presidential motorcade.

Leaning on one of the support columns, Alpha silently watched as Bear and Iceman lowered the carpet next to the lifeless bodies of Xing’s wife and two children, who lay neatly arranged on the floor of the garage, wrapped in sheets.

“They were killed in their sleep?” Bear asked the colleagues who brought the three bodies.

“Yes,” one of them answered.

“Why did they have to… the entire family?”

“Xing would have given his last election speech tomorrow. It was logical for his wife and children to be at his side on the stage. In any case, it is not up to us to discuss this, Bear. It is our job to protect the president,” Alpha said.

“I see. We’ve successfully protected him.”

“I won’t allow such sarcasm. It’s our job to protect Erivan. We were just carrying out his orders and allowed the Grasshopper to do his job.”

“As though we could have stopped the Grasshopper even if we tried to,” Iceman said. “I was relieved when they left, I must admit.”

The team silently nodding their heads in agreement.

“Forget about that Grasshopper,” Alpha said angrily, and then continued with a milder tone. “I understand you. It wasn’t easy for me either. We’ve been protecting presidents for years, and now… It’s as though we’ve betrayed ourselves. That’s what high-level politics is like. What can we do? Come on, people, let us… I mean, before rigor mortis sets in… let’s get them in the car.”

The team reluctantly approached the bodies.

“In an upright position… Everything has to look like… normal… you understand? And fasten them somehow… I don’t know how…”

The Director of the Tourism Sector was always very cross, but kept it to himself, whenever Mr. Kaella wanted to go for a ride in his submarine, with the large portholes and powerful floodlights, down the streets of one of the many submerged cities.

Then the Director would have to cancel the excursions of all the tourist submarines to that city, which always caused an outcry among visitors. There were also fewer and fewer people prepared to pay the quite hefty price for such trips, because the submerged structures, exposed to the high level of acidity of the increasingly saltier and warmer seawater, had started to decay and left an unpleasant, almost sickening feeling.

Once upon a time the tours of the submerged cities were really enjoyable. The buildings were still intact, and the sea life had already been destroyed. There was no seaweed, algae, and whatever it had been called, to stick to them. If some mutant fish happened to swim past the portholes of the submarine, it would not conceal the tourists’ view of the city.

This time, due to Kaella’s submarine ride the following day, the Director was overcome by a completely different feeling. A feeling of content, for onboard the submarine Kaella would be giving his interview, which would be broadcast live by all the television stations in the State. This means that people, mimicking their ruler and idol, would scurry on excursions to the submerged cities.