Epilogue
Tristan
18 months later
The security camera shows a black SUV passing through the gate. I study the face as he enters the code into the gate. It’s him.
I’m up, headed to the ATV parked in the front of the estate. The wheels grind over the gravel and dust spins behind me. It’s a telltale sign of an unusually dry spring, of course, with the weather these days, who’s to say what’s normal. As the father of a toddler, that’s the theme of my life.
The trail meanders through a wooded area and opens into a meadow halfway between the house and the village road.
The SUV stops. The engine cuts. The driver’s door opens, and Saint exits.
I sling a leg over the SUV and stride through the calf-high grass to greet him.
“I like this place,” he says, looking up to the tops of the trees as a hawk flies high overhead.
“Off the beaten path,” I say. “No lookiloos.”
“You get deliveries out here?”
“Not much to speak of.” I could tell him I picked this spot to meet and don’t have any ties to the land. It would be a version of truth.
I don’t have any ties to the land. But my family has spent the last couple of weeks at this estate on holiday before Lucia returns to work. She’s at the end of her maternity leave with Interpol. I told her she doesn’t have to return to work, but she gave me a look that informed me a wise man wouldn’t repeat that offer. I understand her. Her mother stopped working, and when her father became indisposed, she viewed her best option as sending her daughter away. As my wife, she’ll never want for any material item again, she needs the fulfillment and empowerment her own work brings. She loves her work at Interpol, and by my estimation, she’s on a path to becoming another invaluable Penny.
He follows me to a decaying picnic table set off to the side of the woods. The owners were big skeet shooter, and they apparently loved to shoot over the meadow.
“It’s peaceful here.”
The scent of pine carries over on a slight breeze and a clear, blue sky promises a steady afternoon. I inhale, and listen.
There are no horns or combustion engines purring along. Peace is an apt description.
“Do you get out in nature often?”
I don’t often ask him details. It’s not a good practice. But as the years pass, my concern for his mental health grows. He’s on all the time, and I worry for his soul.
“More than you might think.”
His facial expression remains passive, his eyes hidden by shades, but his chest rises on an inhale and he shoves a hand into his jacket pocket. He places a burner mobile on the table.
“Two files,” he says. “Link in notes app. Passcode what is truth?, all lower case, with the question mark.”
“Got it.” I scan the woods, out of habit. A doe emerges from a copse, and quickly disappears. “I suppose you saw the news. The ship we busted was valued at over a million euros.”
“Yeah. I saw. We’re starting to get their attention. This here, it’s enough for two more busts, but space them out, hear? Suspicions are high they’ve got a leak.”
“More drug busts?”
“No.” He jerks his chin in the direction of the cheap burner. A mobile anyone would assume is solely used for calls. Only Saint uses a utility feature no one else would read. “There’s the information you need to bust a chain of laudromats that launder more than clothes throughout France, Switzerland, Italy and Belgium. The other file has the locations of fourteen servers around the world owned by an international cybercrime group. If you observe the locations, you’ll get everything you know to take them out.”
“Anyone looking your way?”
“You mean, does anyone suspect me?”
I nod.
“No. They see me as the American arms dealer. Very few have any idea how much information I’m privy to.”
If he needs out, he’s go the escape plan. We don’t need to review it. “How many more years you think you got in you?”
“Believe it or not, it’s not a bad life.” He’s introspective for a moment, and I expect him to share more, but he blinks, slams his palm down on the splintered wood, and says, “I’ve got to get going. An Italian sunset awaits.”
“Don’t you get tired of being alone?” I can’t quite believe I asked the question, but now I view the world through a married lens.
“Who says I’m alone?” The grin he gives is one that reminds me he once served in the military.
“The Watson girl, the younger one, she’s expecting.” It’s an update I almost forgot to give, and he stumbles but catches himself.
“Keep me updated.” He turns, steps to his vehicle, and pauses. “Have you got any photos?”
“None that haven’t been uploaded.”
There’s a fleeting glimpse of something that could pass for regret, and then he’s gone.
I’m not his only contact to his real world, but it’s my understanding he keeps his communications to a minimum for the safety of all.
Back at the estate house, I push open the heavy centuries old wooden door and listen. Silence. That’s not what I was expecting.
I don’t bother removing my shoes, and hurry through the vestibule. If someone entered the gate, I should have been alerted. As quickly has my heartrate lifts, it slows.
I’m brought to a halt by the sight before me. My daughter, a wobbly, toddling terror, is curled up in her mum’s arms, blessedly asleep. Her plump cheeks ruddy and her dark curls askew. My wife smiles at me and presses her lips together, shushing me.
I walk as softly as possible and place a kiss on my wife’s forehead, then my daughters. Lucia stiffens, fearful I’ll waken our nap-loathing child, but she’s out. I never thought of myself as parent material, and I’m quite certain I’ll prove lacking in any number of ways in the years to come. I don’t deserve these two in my life, but my god do I love them with every fiber of my being.
To the side of the room is my father, legs kicked back on an ottoman, arms crossed over his abdomen, softly snoring. I haven’t allowed him to visit us in London as I don’t wish to expose my connection to the Wagners of Switzerland, but this estate was rented by an untraceable entity and we’re safe here. He’s proven to be a doting grandfather, even if he probably should be facing trial along with the other Lumina executives. However, there was no evidence connecting him and only hearsay of knowledge of the incident. The prosecutors determined he resigned so soon after the plan hatched, that his defense could easily imply his disapproval is why he retired. In his defense, I do believe he had no interest in the scheme. But he didn’t disapprove enough to stop it, and remained willfully blind over the years. He’s not a perfect human being, but he’s a perfect grandpa, and I love him, so we keep him around when possible.
For Lucia’s part, she loves having family around. We travel to Portugal about every other month to visit her family.
Shortly after we moved to London, I hired Arrow to explore options for releasing her father and brother. Illegal and legal means would have been on the table. Unfortunately, her father and brother contracted dengue fever and died in prison. It was through Arrow’s investigations we learned what happened to them, and Lucia has become close to several of the members of the Arrow team. We’re planning a trip to the United States to visit all of our friends, and I’m quite eager to play tour guide. The open question is whether we’ll bring with our little one with us. Named Aurea after Lucia’s mother, she’s a boisterous handful. I’d like to leave her with my father and a hired nanny, however, I suspect I might be overruled.
The cushion sinks with my weight. I place an arm around Lucia’s shoulder, and we both stare at the beauty lying across her mother. I’m sure every father believes his daughter is the most beautiful creature on earth, but I am undoubtedly correct in my estimation. There’s nothing quite in this world like when she calls me daddy.
Lucia whispers, “Is all good?”
As my wife, and an Interpol staff member, she knows some of what I do. I believe it was a significant relief to learn I’m not the freeloading louse she feared. But now, she harbors other fears.
“Yes.”
“Are you done for the day?”
While I like to tell her yes, I have information to transmit and destroy. “Just a little more. Then I’m yours.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I was wrong. Love. While hearing my little one call me daddy brings immeasurable happiness, there’s nothing in this world comparable to love. And somehow, by some miracle, I have it in spades. I see it in Lucia’s eyes, feel it in her touch, and in her words. And this is my life, every day.