Front of Silence: A Laker Taylor Political Thriller

By Case Lane

A Magical City. A Deadly Set-Up. An Ancient People. A Modern Killer.

A global financial crimes investigation turns into a heart-stopping chase across Europe when a billionaire playboy crosses paths with the Laker Taylor international crime-fighting team. Is Andrew Vashon leading a financial conspiracy or innocently searching for his family's lost ancestral fortune? Violence and danger erupt from Budapest to the Black Sea as both sides push against a wall of silence. Can the Laker Taylor team prevent injustice in a battle against people with unlimited resources? Join the chase. Who will catch the other first?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Case Lane
• Release date: Jun 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370408566

Case Lane

Case Lane is a global writer, traveler and observer to the future. Educated in communications, political science, business, law and economics, she has lived and worked all over the world as a reporter, diplomat, and digital media corporate executive. Building from her interests in international relations and technology, Case envisions a next century world where the essential battle is between the advancement of technology and the instincts of our basic humanity. In The Life Online series, the majority of people are non-technologists who have to learn to live and manage in a technology-controlled world that they do not understand.

Book preview

FRONT OF SILENCE

A Laker Taylor Political Thriller

By Case Lane

FRONT OF SILENCE

Published by Case Lane at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for acquiring this e-book. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, institutions, history and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual incidents, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 2017 Case Lane

All rights reserved.

Discover other books by Case Lane:

Angle of Deception: Book 1 in the Laker Taylor series

The Origin Point: A Future Tech Cyber Novella

The Motion Clue: A Future Tech Cyber Thriller, Book 1 Life Online series

The Unbroken Line: A Future Tech Cyber Thriller, Book 2 Life Online series

The Probable Cause: A Future Tech Cyber Thriller, Book 3 Life Online series

SPIES. LIES. DIPLOMACY. CONSPIRACY.

Want to know more?

Click the link to download your own confidential copy of the FSC/IPA Country Briefing Report for the Republic of Alcazar.

Learn the same details the Global Intelligence team in the Laker Taylor series uses to chase global criminals. You will receive the free PDF report and updates, news, and insider information from Case Lane.

Intrigued?

CLICK HERE

CONTENTS

Part One: On a Bright Night Bridge

Part Two: On a Scattered Hillside

Part Three: On the Edge of a Jumbled Forest

Part Four: In a Fairytale City of Justice

Part Five: On a Street of Urban Electricity

Part Six: On a Beach of Golden Sand

Part Seven: In a Slipping Delta Swamp

Part Eight: In a Land of Ancient Crossroads

Part Nine: Epilogue - In a City of Lights

Thank You from Case

About Case Lane

Bonus Reading

BOOK DESCRIPTION

A global financial crimes investigation turns into a heart-stopping chase across Europe when a billionaire playboy crosses paths with the Laker Taylor international crime-fighting team. Is Andrew Vashon leading a financial conspiracy or innocently searching for his family's lost ancestral fortune? A stabbing, explosion, bombs and shootings erupt from Budapest to the Black Sea as both sides push against a wall of silence. Can the Laker Taylor team prevent injustice in a battle against people with unlimited resources? Join the chase. Who will catch the other first?

PART ONE: ON A BRIGHT NIGHT BRIDGE

Chapter One

The Shadow moved close to hear the words exchanged by the delightfully contented Western couple leaning against one of the lion statues marking the ‘Pest’ side entrance to the Chain Bridge in Budapest, the capital of Hungary. The medieval city’s bright yellow lights were beginning to sprinkle on the crowds of strolling tourists leisurely occupying the pavement suspended over the Danube River. On the riverbank, a lively collection of young lovers, shirtless men and curious visitors were drinking beer and dangling their legs over the water. But to The Shadow, only the one couple stood out. He had watched them from the moment they left the restored iron gates in front of their five-star hotel, and dodged the circling traffic to stand on the bridge. He had followed them, without attracting any attention, to the city’s world famous magnetic attraction.

We are being illuminated in every direction, Karlie Laker was saying, as she pointed across the river to the city’s monarchist ‘Buda’ side and admired the lights brightening up the buildings on Castle Hill. Turning to face Shane Taylor as the lions’ faces began to darken and fade from her view, she continued, I am utterly swept away by the depth of the beauty of this city. I feel like I am in some sort of magical setting, like we are caught up in a medieval fairytale. Budapest is really marvelous, wondrous.

Shane laughed and reached for her. They were both striking in appearance, tall, expertly groomed, wearing perfectly-cut European fashions on fit bodies outlined by smooth curves and muscular grooves where both suited their gender. Karlie caught her handsome and mysterious global law enforcement boyfriend’s brown eyes twinkling in the fading daylight. You’re losing it, my girlfriend, he joked as he bent to kiss her. The lights are only ramping up your instinctive feelings…you’re actually getting turned on by me.

Very funny. Karlie kissed him back then turned and leaned over the green iron railings to look down into the rapidly moving river currents. Europe’s second longest river had the world’s most inclusive reach as its bounty flowed through ten countries from its origin in Germany’s Black Forest to its reed-choked end in the Danube Delta on the Black Sea. As importantly, its role in history, trade and empire had few equals. Karlie, as a diplomat who travelled frequently to the great capitals of the world, had developed a genuine reverence for the unique cultural tributes built from wood, stone and cement that nation states placed on display for a grateful world. But many of those states would not exist, but for the natural boundaries created by millennia of earthly movements literally shaping people into specific sections of the continent which would go on to define who they were as human beings on earth.

Budapest was no exception. Located at the center of Europe, the city had retained many of its historical structures, which deliberately enwrapped a visitor into a subdued sense of passed times. Even though the fall of Communism at the beginning of the 1990s almost instantly transformed the vibrant Hungarian people into dynamic, fashionable industrialists, the city stayed as it had always been, locked forever in an essential past. I’m serious, this city is like…God, I don’t know…unforgettable I guess.

Okay I’ll concede your sentiment, Shane agreed as he too leaned over the railing to stare at the lights of the Parliament buildings. His back was to the bustling crowds around them, as he focused his gaze on Karlie standing beside him. I give you… He stopped and quickly turned his head away from her. Karlie smiled and waited for him to finish his sentence. Oh my God…

Shane? Karlie stepped forward to reach for him as his arm dropped and fell from around her waist. His face turned pale, and after a second she saw the reason for his sudden transformation. Karlie began to scream. Shane!

Her eyes viewed blood coming through Shane's fingers as he clutched at his stomach and collapsed at her feet. Stabbed, he whispered as his head slipped through her shaking hands and onto the pavement.

Karlie screamed again, Help! Police!

Through the tourists and the local crowds, the Shadow ran off through the night as Shane lay bleeding on a bridge that had soaked up an uncountable number of souls for nearly two centuries.

Shane, listen to me, don’t leave me, Karlie begged as she held his head in her lap and her hand over his wound. A summoned police officer materialized at her side. Help is coming, she pleaded over the honking horns and restless whispers from strangers who stopped in shock to look at Shane’s body. Don’t leave me.

Shane blinked, attempting to force his eyes open. I love you, he whispered before passing out.

Chapter Two

Tourist stabbed on Chain… a local news announcer’s voice declared from a television set hanging over Karlie’s head. She sat in a waiting room at the Duna Medical Center, a building the paramedics hastily made her understand to be a private hospital. As her eyes drifted around the room to see who or what could be speaking, she stopped. For the second time that evening, she gasped with shock.

Hello stranger, a woman said approaching her.

Jessie? Karlie asked in a stunned whisper.

Yes imagine, Jessie Fremaine said as she reached Karlie, arms outstretched to hug her. Here I am peacefully using my Reuters’ buddy’s desk for an evening, and a local news flash says a tourist named Shane Taylor was stabbed on the Chain Bridge, right in front of his diplomat girlfriend.

What? Karlie was stunned the news had traveled so quickly.

I couldn’t believe it. So I snooped around to find the hospital where you’d been taken, and here I am.

But… Karlie struggled to recover and understand the full scope of her transformed evening.

I’m here to help as old friends do. What can I do? Jessie stopped to take a breath and glance around the waiting room where people had turned to look at them. She was slightly shorter than Karlie, with the slim build of an athletic model. But Jessie dressed not in garments photographed for the pages of a fashion magazine, but from those found in the well-worn closets of a dusty farmhouse. She preferred to blend into the world around her, and refused, as a journalist, to draw attention to herself. But people hardly ever ignored her smooth, sharp Mediterranean face as they attempted to define the island of exoticness from which she could have emerged. The women had been friends for more than fifteen years, since high school where they had bonded over the joint responsibility of managing the student newspaper. After university, Karlie joined the Foreign Service, and Jessie became an international foreign correspondent, one of the world’s most respected, covering the political and economic upheavals faced by emerging market countries in every corner of the globe.

But what are you doing here? Karlie finally managed to ask.

"What am I doing here? Jessie counter-demanded. What are you doing here? You two lovebirds are supposed to be on a new posting somewhere, right? Don’t tell me you’re both still living in Alcazar?"

No, no, Karlie protested. No, of course not. Jessie looked singularly relieved at the clarification. Almost a year earlier, Karlie, Shane and Jessie had faced extraordinary turmoil in the Republic of Alcazar, a small country in the Mediterranean Sea with a significant international trade shipping port, and the most unmentionable nightlife scene in the region. Karlie had been posted to her country’s embassy in Alcazar as the second-ranked political and economic affairs officer. Shane had been undercover for the International Police Alliance, the IPA, a global crime-fighting organization supporting national security intelligence organizations with on-the-ground direct action. Officially, the IPA was a mobile police department for global counter-anything justice activities. Unofficially, the organization served as an enforcement unit maintaining open roads for global wealth to operate as if the world were one neighborhood market. When Karlie and Shane met, she fell for his cover and thought he was a successful investor based in Alcazar to take advantage of the country’s lax business regulations. By the time they left, she realized he was one of the world’s unacknowledged law-and-order officers who often skipped the written rules of civilized nations to pursue their own ends.

We are out of Alcazar, Karlie responded. We have moved on. I’m on a cross-posting to Chile and Shane is going to be based in Brazil.

Wait, you’re being separated? Jessie despondently noted. I thought Shane was going with you. Long-distance global love? That sucks.

Karlie was not completely convinced the arrangement ‘sucked,’ but offered to Jessie, who had come to adore Shane, a less threatening explanation. It’s only temporary. Anyway, we thought we’d have a vacation here before getting to South America.

Temporary? What’s temporary to you two global spy types?

Two years. And I’m not a spy.

Someone is.

Not me. Karlie uncomfortably adjusted in her seat as she turned away.

Jessie registered the protest and changed subjects. Look I’m here to help, that’s what friends are for, especially journalist friends who know people who know people who know how to get things done. What have they told you so far?

Karlie turned back to face her. The idea of Jessie, of all people, suddenly appearing beside her in a hospital waiting room in Hungary should not have been as unfathomable as the actual event happening. Jessie travelled the world, transiting through innumerable gateway countries enroute to wherever the story was located. She was rarely in one place for long, but why were they both in…

What have they told you? Jessie demanded again, breaking Karlie’s thoughts.

Nothing, Karlie sheepishly replied. I’ve been waiting.

Waiting? Jessie indignantly exclaimed. What kind of an entitled diplomat are you?

I’m not on posting here.

So, what do they know. Give me your passport.

What are you going to do?

Just give me your credentials and I’ll do the talking.

Reluctantly, Karlie reached into her bag and handed Jessie her red diplomatic passport. Jessie proudly grabbed the document and stood up to walk to the nurses’ station. Following her movements, Karlie did not hear the words, but could easily interpret the gestures. Jessie was pointing at the passport, and at Karlie and mimicking a person being stabbed in the stomach. The gestures were repeated until the nurse nodded and disappeared. Smiling, Jessie slowly returned to her seat and handed the passport back. It will be a minute, she triumphantly announced.

Before Karlie could reply, a doctor appeared in front of them. Both women stood.

Are you the Consul? the doctor asked Jessie.

No, she is, Jessie replied, grinning as she pointed to Karlie. How is her husband?

Karlie’s eyes flared up as she shot Jessie a warning look, which Jessie ignored.

Madame Consul, the doctor said turning to Karlie with deference. Sorry no one provide you with news on your husband’s condition. Karlie’s eyes swept with relief as she realized Shane was still alive. Then she reset to hear unpleasant information, maybe ‘condition’ could mean death in translated Hungarian. She shot another worried look at Jessie. If you wish to see husband, follow me, the doctor continued in his broken English.

Surprised, Karlie started to follow but quickly turned back to see Jessie who, with a self-satisfied grin, was gesturing to her to keep moving.

The doctor led Karlie to the edge of Shane's bed. The wound deep, the doctor explained. But not…no organs.

The attacker did not strike any vital organs? Karlie clarified.

Yes, no organs.

Karlie smiled with relief. How long should he stay here?

We see…after tonight okay?

Yes okay, thank you.

The doctor smiled and walked away.

Karlie bent over Shane's inert body and took his hands in hers. Hey baby, I’m here, don’t worry, she whispered. Shane did not move. She moved closer to speak directly into his ears. I’ll always be here. Still seeing no reaction, she reached behind her and pulled a chair forward to sit down. Her hands still holding his, a thought crossed Karlie’s mind which she had not permitted herself to understand since Shane's real professional identity had been revealed in Alcazar. Always. As she watched his helpless body, she realized an unknown assailant may have turned her once acceptable temporary plans into a startling inconvenience she no longer felt compelled to support.

Chapter Three

You sure you don’t want tea or something? Jessie asked Karlie as, later that evening, they entered Karlie and Shane's hotel room in the Four Seasons Gresham Palace Hotel. The luxurious Art Nouveau structure was a welcome relief from the sterile hospital floor. On Shane's doctor’s advice, they had reluctantly departed the hospital where Shane still lay unconscious, and retreated to the hotel to rest and refresh before attempting to see him again.

No thanks, I’m okay, Karlie despondently responded dropping onto the couch. Glancing at Jessie’s anxious face she said, look, you do not have to hang out here with me. I’m fine.

You don’t look fine. Jessie sat down beside her. Besides, when I hang out with you I get great copy.

Very funny. What are you doing in Budapest anyway? Sleepy developed European capitals are hardly your political interest area.

Oh I know, but who can resist coming to this city when opportunity arises? I’m just visiting, like you.

You…visiting? I doubt it. J.T. Fremaine does not just visit anywhere. J.T. studies and investigates and writes to dazzle the world with the truth she has uncovered.

Jessie laughed. What an image!

It’s your valid profile. So tell me the truth, what are you doing in Budapest?

Okay I confess. I’m doing a story.

A story about what?

A story…story.

Like when you came to Alcazar, to do a ‘story,’ Karlie emphasized the word ‘story’ with air quotes. Is it like that?

Jessie considered the question. Over a year before, when she had originally told Karlie she was coming to visit her in Alcazar, she professed only to be covering the country’s election. Unbeknownst to Karlie at the time, Jessie was on a personal quest to assist her brother, a police officer who had become entangled with forces inside the government. The ensuing drama risked Karlie’s posting and tested their friendship. That was different, Jessie noted. Alcazar was more of a personal mission.

And what’s this story?

A news story.

What story?

Jessie narrowed her eyes. Karlie, who would attempt to kill Shane?

Karlie stared at her in shock. In the hours that had passed since Shane's stabbing, she had quickly put the motive question out of her mind to focus on coaxing Shane’s recovery. But she could not fail to realize, Jessie was right, she had to consider who had been behind the attack. And sadly, her first suspects were people they had once been tasked to support.

Together with Jessie, Karlie and Shane had become directly involved in a political war between two of Alcazar’s richest families, and the ensuing conflict had almost cost Karlie her life when she was one of the victims of a nightclub bombing staged by rivals of the country’s political ruling family.

The Alcazaran government was the poster-child for family-run dictatorships who continue to act with impunity on the global stage. The country had been ruled since its independence in 1962 by one family, the Bakers, descendants of British immigrants who had worked to build a fortune based on trade, manufacturing, commerce and corruption. In less than a century the small island nation became the Bakers’ personal fiefdom. Initially elected in a democracy fueled by nationalist fervor at independence, the Bakers used their position to solidify their political base by handing prestigious jobs in education, government and the military to family members and loyal friends, while educated citizens were forced to emigrate to find acceptable work in other countries. Tax and foreign aid money designated to pay for infrastructure, schools, hospitals and development went instead into the Bakers and their friends’ overseas bank accounts, leaving ten million of the country’s twelve million citizens struggling in working class poverty. But these transgressions were ignored by a world of convenient influential political and business friends who appreciated the country’s strategic geographic position, alignment with Western free markets, and nominal commitment to regular elections. For decades, Alcazar faced no global sanction or condemnation for its neglectful treatment of its own citizens, and the Bakers saw no conflict in their quiet syphoning of the country’s wealth into their own pockets.

But as had been the case in many other countries run by indifferent and avarice dictators, the local people became worn down by the ruling party’s, and in Alcazar’s case, the Baker family’s relentless corruption and nepotism. A rising and influential faction of educated professionals and thriving entrepreneurs began supporting an effort for political change led by another rich local family, the Vashons. Vashon money was new in Alcazar, but no less potent and influential. The Vashon family had legally built their company through trade and manufacturing, although many questioned the business practices they had used to succeed. Their political party posed the first real threat to Baker rule in Alcazaran history. A fact that had drawn the attention of multiple international organizations involved in ensuring global stability, including the IPA. For some global leaders, keeping Alcazar under Baker rule was an acceptable, ‘devil you know’ proposition, preferable to handing the country’s strategic shipping port and regulation-free global banking system over to the unknown Vashons. But the duplicity of action, angered those fighting for democracy and civil society. If the opposition eventually won political power in Alcazar, they could become bitter enemies to those who supported the Bakers.

In these entanglements, Karlie, Shane and Jessie tolled in an effort to reveal the truth about the Bakers’ decades long iron-rule of Alcazar while supporting their individual diplomatic, law enforcement and media agendas, and practicing non-interference in the eventual outcome of a democratic election. Conflicting forces had different ideas about how much longer Baker rule in Alcazar could be tolerated by the dominating global powers involved in world affairs. This reality implied that despite the country’s political mood swing towards change, the party with the greatest external support won the national election. The Bakers were still in power in Alcazar. And although their own governments and organizations appreciated the hard-work Karlie and Shane had done to help democracy move forward on the island, the Alcazaran government, in effect the Bakers, could not wait to get the two meddlers out of the country. Their exit paperwork cleared in record time and their departure elicited no long good-byes from any Alcazaran government officials. Leaving a trail of enemies behind them, Karlie and Shane left a country still shaking from its brush with hopeful revolutionary tendencies.

Shane was a seasoned operative in a world of violent geo-political drama. The IPA was efficient and exacting in its work. Karlie knew the list of Shane’s potential enemies was long, unidentified and deadly. But she was a thoughtful negotiator. Despite the drama they had jointly survived, and a definite attraction, she was reluctant to absorb and overcome the reality of understanding Shane’s day job. But now in peaceful unaffected Budapest, she realized her wavering would not hold. Someone had tried to kill Shane. Someone with the courage to brave an attack on a high-profile tourist attraction in front of dozens of potential witnesses, including the primary one she fearfully realized was herself.

That’s your story? Karlie asked incredulously. How could you have known someone was going to attempt to kill Shane?

I didn’t know. Jessie was taken aback. Of course, Shane is not my story. But I think that’s the question we should be discussing, don’t you? You were walking peacefully on the bridge when out-of-the-blue someone tries to kill Shane. In such a public place, full of tourists, who would be so bold?

How do you know we were walking on the bridge?

The incident is all over the news, Jessie replied without hesitation. We are talking about the stabbing of a foreigner on one of the most famous bridges in Europe. Who would make the attempt? Karlie fell silent. Kar, look I know some people, maybe I could help…

Jessie, if Shane is not your story. What are you doing here in Budapest?

Don’t be angry. I’m just trying to—

Whatever you’re trying to do, don’t do it. Don’t do it, Jess. This is not a game, we are talking about Shane’s life.

Of course, but what are you and Shane doing here? Why are you in Hungary?

I told you we wanted a vacation.

Okay great. But your vacation has been rudely interrupted by an assassin. An assassin, Karlie, do you understand?

Of course I understand.

Let me help you. This is not a quiet story. If I do not get into the details someone else will, and that someone else will not be your high school bestie with your interests in mind. Karlie narrowed her eyes. C’mon Kar, talk to me.

Karlie sighed, and resolved to be truthful. Turning her gaze towards the window, she said, honestly Jess, I don’t know what we’re doing here.

What do you mean?

It was Shane’s idea. He planned the entire trip, said not to worry. Claimed he wanted to see something of Central Europe and had always been interested in the culture and architecture and…whatever.

And you believed him?

Sort of. In all of our discussions about places we wanted to visit, he had never mentioned Central Europe. But okay, he could have the interest now. He likes to travel as much as I do.

Then why are you suspicious?

Because Jess, from the moment we got here, I’ve been thinking…

You’ve been thinking what?

I think Shane is working on a case.

Chapter Four

Shane sensed, rather than knew he was in a hospital bed. He felt stiffness in his arms and legs, pressure on his abdomen, and he was immobile as if locked into place by restraints. When he attempted to open his eyes, the struggle overwhelmed him, and he abandoned the effort. But his brain was awake, active and repeatedly going over the events of the prior evening. Someone, a man, had walked up to him on the Chain Bridge and stabbed him, in front of Karlie, in front of locals, tourists, nearby police, surveillance cameras - but who? Shane did not ask himself why, he knew the answer to that question had multiple possibilities. As an IPA agent, he travelled the world undercover as a global investor, and infiltrated the wealthiest and most sophisticated international investment schemes searching for money being used to support a myriad of world crimes. Governments, victims of fraud, international aid organizations, Intelligence services - all were chasing the money in an attempt to stop criminals, including terrorists, from having the financial resources to illegally operate around the world. The entanglements were extraordinary. When money was at the center of a group’s ability to function, skills and capabilities rose in response. Few Harvard MBAs had the creative genius to design the transactional networks funneling money from illegitimate sources to legitimate and back again. Few formally trained professionals could spend the time constructing the complex world needed to ensure the success of global criminal enterprises. But Shane and his IPA cohorts worked in lockstep with the best funded and practiced organizations, and had developed the sophisticated techniques to stop them. The IPA’s celebrated success in shutting down one arm of criminal activity after another, also meant any one of his previously identified targets could now be pursuing him.

Shane silently moaned as he considered the risk to Karlie. She had never had a chance to decide if she wanted to be involved with an international crime-fighting agent. As a diplomat, her natural inclination was always towards negotiation and peaceful resolutions to problems. She actually had a historian’s intellectual curiosity about the origins and emergence of diplomacy. Many of the first cross-state communication practices established in 15th century Italy were still in place today; a fact Karlie found crucial to humanity’s ongoing struggle to find common ground amongst warring tribes, even within developed and advanced countries. Her global professional experience was a life calling to ensure humans used thinking strategies to advance progress. His was a mission to rid the world of bad guys, at the least hurtful cost to the interests of his own good guys. Neither would ever sacrifice their own people to another government, but their methods for ensuring a betrayal did not happen were remarkably different.

Shane had brought her to Budapest because he had not told her his posting to Alcazar was continuing, and he had to be in Central Europe to take the next step. Global Intelligence had a lead on a group of terrorists suspected of planning soft-target attacks across Europe, and Shane needed to follow the money the group was using to finance their activities. Suggesting he and Karlie take a vacation had seemed to be a less threatening approach than the truth. But the truth had come to them anyway, at the point of a knife, and suddenly his careful plan had become a dangerous trap for both of them, just like in Alcazar.

The Republic of Alcazar had been built interchangeably during colonial times by the Spanish, French and British, first on the strength of its strategic location, later on its penchant for gambling, small manufacturing and bank vaults tracked to no named client. But the economy remained underdeveloped. As in many other countries around the globe, the departing colonial rulers had handed the government and the economy over to the strongest organized faction to emerge from the Europeans’ destructive legacy. These people were typically those who had found a method for accommodating the colonizers, sometimes they were capable and clever operatives, other times they were ruthless and corrupt. In all cases, the Europeans made a calculation and backed those most likely to continue to support the foreigners’ objectives, and maintain control over the local population.

Alcazar had not escaped the fate handed to the other colonized countries of Asia, Africa and Latin America. The Alcazaran story would be similarly etched across the historical landscape. The powerful would hold their power, indifferent to the masses, and in competition only with those who, through other qualities of success, were able to gain a foothold in the economic structure. Although the Bakers’ imperious rule was being challenged by rising wealth families led by self-made industrialist Peter Vashon, his record was hardly considered unimpeachable. Vashon was suspected to be a post-World War II immigrant to Alcazar of undefined Eastern European extraction who had changed his name, perfected his command of English, and quietly built a business empire in small manufacturing. Having miscalculated the strength of their hold on Alcazar’s elite, the Bakers had ignored Vashon until, to their shock, his political faction came close to overthrowing Baker rule. The mood of the country had irreversibly shifted, and permanent change was now only a matter of time, perhaps the next election, when there would be an opportunity to see a new government installed in Alcazar.

But change in relatively stable but repressed Alcazar did not sit well with all global governments. The regulation-free convenience of the country’s financial system was a favorite of global criminals. A selection of world governments wanted accommodation with the Alcazaran government to obtain uninhibited access to the country’s records and track the organized terrorists and their financiers who were destabilizing the world. If the Vashon-backed political party were to come to power in Alcazar, and take control of the country’s banks and the networks linking the money held in Alcazar to international terrorism, world governments needed to understand and prepare for the implications of the transfer of power. Specifically, they needed to know if Vashon or anyone close to his business practices had secrets he would not want revealed. Secrets can be used as currency in global geo-politics, and certain world players were anxious to know if they could trade this currency with Peter Vashon.

Taylor! A voice reached Shane's brain to break his reflection. Despite the earlier attack, the hospital room was unguarded. Local police knew Shane’s identity only as a financial executive whom they assumed had likely been the victim of a robbery attempt by an anonymous opportunistic thief. Officials had no reason to suspect any further issues. Although the clocks displayed 2 am and visiting hours had passed, no hospital staff noticed a tall, bulky, 50-ish blond man walk silently through the hospital corridors and wander into Shane's room. The man had slowly approached the side of Shane's bed, bent down towards his head, and sharply said his name, repeating again, Taylor!

Shane stirred, fighting with his eyes to respond to his brain’s voice recognition.

Taylor c’mon, wake up my man, it’s Rudder. Shane did not move. ‘Rudder’ was Richard Ugan Balfour, an overbearing British-born agent who was Shane’s IPA contact and colleague in Budapest. Friends did not know the origin of his nickname, ‘Rudder.’ The reference had nothing to do with boats, although Rudder often professed to be the stabilizing force on any IPA team. Vehemently despising the typical abbreviations for his real first name, ‘Rick,’ or more appropriately ‘Dick,’ he fought for the permanent use of ‘Rudder,’ and all agreed. Okay look, listen you’ve got to hear me. Don’t worry. We are on this, but we need to have you back, immediately. We think this may be Vashon coming after you out of Alcazar. But we need to know what you know. Did you see the guy? How did he act? Shane stirred again. Wake up, get up, get out of here and call me. Your assignment just got a little more complicated, my friend. We need you…and Laker to tell us everything you know.

On hearing Karlie’s name, Shane's brain began firing again, he moaned aloud.

Okay, okay, quiet man, Rudder hastily responded. But you know what this attack means. Get out of this bed. We are on this investigation. Get out of here, and we’ll have everything ready to go.

Before Shane could demonstrate further recognition, Rudder departed as quickly and quietly as he had arrived.

*

A day later, a revitalized Shane demanded to be released. Under protest, the doctor reluctantly agreed only if he could provide care instructions to Shane’s ‘wife.’ Intrigued to find out who his ‘wife’ would turn out to be, Shane was both relieved and anxious when the doctor permitted the removal of his monitors, and allowed him to step into Karlie’s waiting arms. But beyond the jovial atmosphere in the hospital, the two fell into silence until they entered their hotel room.

Do you want to tell me who you suspect would want to kill you here? Karlie finally asked when they were alone.

No, not really, Shane strained to respond as he sat down.

Shane…

Kar, please don’t ask me questions.

You’re joking right? Karlie’s voice began to rise. You were almost killed.

Shane hung his head, refusing to meet her eyes. Look, I think maybe you should go on to Chile and I’ll…I’ll catch-up with you in a week or so.

Karlie narrowed her eyes as she reached out and turned his head towards her. No way, she defiantly said. You’re going to tell me what’s going on.

You should go on to Chile.

I’m on vacation. I’m not going back to work early.

Okay, you should leave Budapest. You really should not be here.

Why? You think someone is going to take another shot at you?

No…I…

What?

Please leave.

No.

Baby, c’mon, listen to me, leave.

No Shane, I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you. And I want to know what’s going on. What are we doing here?

What do you mean, ‘what are we doing here?’ Shane dared to ask.

Karlie stared into his eyes. What are we doing in Budapest? And don’t try to tell me, we are on vacation.

Shane sighed and pulled her towards him. She settled into his arms. The last thing he wanted was Karlie to stay in a city where he was the target of an assassin, but the second last thing he wanted was for her to leave. I’m going to tell you right now, but you have to be reasonable and smart about the choice you have to make.

Okay, she reluctantly responded.

Obviously this is confidential.

Fine, what are we doing here?

I didn’t directly tell you because…because you know, I did not want to worry you or whatever—

Shane! Just tell me, why did we come to Budapest?

I’m chasing Alcazaran banking connections.

Alcazar’s banks?

Yes, Baker money, Vashon money and who knows who else.

Vashon money?

Yes, one and the same again, Peter Vashon from Alcazar. We’re chasing his money, all of them. The investigation is part of a much larger assignment to stop the terrorist attacks on soft targets in Europe and America. We think someone is paying for an escalation, and if Alcazaran banks are aiding the process, they are the enemies of peace. If Vashon's political party comes to power in Alcazar, he’ll have control of the financial system and all its networks, so we want to make sure we can control him.

By finding his money?

By knowing what he’s got and where, yes.

You’re investigating his bank accounts…investments?

In general, yes.

And someone does not want you to find the money Vashon transits through Eastern Europe?

Maybe. The story is bigger. There’s a lot of speculation, but Vashon may be of Eastern European origin. We are interested in his background because there could be family here, property, who knows. We need to know so we can control at least this one cog in the very big international terrorist wheel.

Okay.

So you see, you have to leave. These guys are serious. This assignment is very risky.

Karlie looked down for a moment, then back up at Shane. Well I’m serious too. And I’m staying. If those guys are here and they’re trying to get to you, I want to help you catch them.

Shane bristled and pulled away to look directly at her. Catching bad guys is not your job. If people think you’re involved in this investigation, they’ll make you a target too. Criminal activities are completely out of your jurisdiction.

Maybe directly, but indirectly global criminal activities greatly effect my job. I want to do my part. If you’re going to be here and risk your life for this, the least I can do is help. I know Alcazarans too.

I know you do, Shane whispered. But we’re not in Alcazar.

All the better, Karlie triumphantly said. Because neither are the Alcazarans who are operating here.

Chapter Five

From her hotel room, Karlie could look through the window across the river to the ‘Buda’ side of the city on the west bank of the Danube River. She actually preferred the less-touristed park filled residential areas on the hilly side, to the crowds who gravitated to the city center and rarely ventured beyond its busy sites. If she and Shane were still on vacation, she would suggest they actually finish their walk across the Chain Bridge, and spend a few hours admiring the views from the other side of the city.

But they were no longer off the clock. Ever since Shane had told her the real reason for choosing Budapest as their destination, all plans for enjoying the sites had been pushed aside. Now they had to focus on protecting each other.

Shaking her head in contemplative despair, Karlie nearly jumped when the in-room telephone rang. At first she considered the call could be from Shane, who had gone back to the hospital to be re-bandaged, and insisted she did not need to accompany him. Puzzled, she grasped the receiver.

Hello, Karlie answered.

Consul Laker? a woman’s voice greeted her.

Yes.

Oh how wonderful to reach you. This is Milagros Sanchez. I am first secretary at the Embassy of Alcazar to Hungary.

Oh, hello, Karlie reluctantly responded as she struggled to place the voice to a face.

You may no longer remember me. We met at one or two receptions during your posting.

I believe I do recall meeting you, Karlie lied. How are you? Are you enjoying living in Budapest?

I’m wonderful, and yes I love it here. Can you imagine the daily peace, after the chaos of our capital, Joyo? I love my country, but we do not have orderly traffic, you remember?

Yes, I remember very well.

Wonderful.

What can I do for you Secretary Sanchez?

Oh please, Milagros.

Milagros…

Please permit me to provide you with some Alcazaran hospitality in the middle of Europe.

Really?

Yes I would like to invite you to lunch.

Oh how kind.

And if you don’t mind. Could you come alone? I’m sorry, but I do want to talk a little business about your time in Alcazar.

Karlie was intrigued. Yes certainly.

Can you come today?

Today? Karlie glanced at the clock on a side table. Shane was unlikely to return before mid-afternoon.

Yes, I am so sorry for such short notice. Absolutely not very culturally Alcazaran of me, but I understand you are here for a short visit.

Yes, yes I am. And I am free now, I can come.

Oh wonderful. Come to the embassy, at 1 pm. I will show you our lovely building before we go to the restaurant. You know Alcazarans have to find Spanish or French food everywhere we go or we think we’ll starve. I’ll take you to one of my favorite places near here.

Sounds wonderful, I’ll see you then.

Thank you, Consul Laker.

Karlie.

"Gracias Karlie, hasta luego."

"Si, hasta luego."

*

A few hours later, Milagros provided a compact and efficient tour of the Alcazaran Embassy before directing Karlie on to the restaurant. Typical of Alcazar’s demographic mix, Milagros, despite her Spanish name, looked Northern European, and she spoke a British English reflecting her boarding school years in England. Polished, petit and exuberant, she greeted Karlie as if the two had been magnet friends in Alcazar. Karlie was surprised Alcazar had an embassy in Hungary. Both nations were small countries with seemingly little in common. But Milagros explained her government considered Hungary an important regional hub, and hoped to use the diplomatic mission as a base for expanding trade and cultural ties in Central Europe. Karlie did not comment. The official word was sufficient to establish the country’s policies as benign and unthreatening to a distant ally.

Her comments at the restaurant would be much less sanguine. Karlie, Milagros said twirling a glass of white wine between her fingers, I understand you had some trouble the other night on the Chain Bridge.

Yes, Karlie neutrally responded, but how did you know I was involved in the incident.

Oh, Milagros laughed. The news said diplomat so every embassy was forced to contact the police to find out which country was involved. Silly of them, they should have clarified from the beginning.

Sounds like they had to scramble to answer all the requests.

Yes they did. But more importantly, how are you feeling now? And your…friend?

We are fine.

Good, good. We were concerned because you know once you have lived in Alcazar, well we consider you part of the extended Alcazaran family.

Oh, thank you. Karlie’s suspicions skyrocketed. No Alcazaran official would want her as part of any permanent family.

You and your friend, you left Alcazar to come here…to Hungary…on vacation?

Yes, Karlie slowly replied. Why?

Oh no reason. Only Hungary is not everyone’s most popular vacation choice. You know I’m always trying to convince my family and friends to come. So I like to find out why other people come here, then I can tell them, and they do not complain so much.

Oh I see. Well, we are both interested in European culture and architecture so the location made sense for us.

Really, I would think you like your vacations in more exotic places.

Like Alcazar?

Milagros laughed. Yes, yes, like Alcazar.

This was a good stopping point for us.

How nice.

You know there is even a direct flight between Joyo and Budapest.

Yes I know.

That’s strange.

Why?

Just does not seem there would be much business…or tourism, between your two countries.

Oh there is, there is now, there is a growing business.

Of what?

Sorry?

What is the business and trade between Alcazar and Hungary?

Milagros raised her eyebrows as she paused for one second too long. The usual.

Like what?

Resources, small manufacturing, tourism…

And money?

Money?

Yes, Milagros. Does Alcazar have banking or investment ties to Hungary?

Well I’m sure some businesspeople do.

Which businesspeople?

Milagros eyed Karlie, her easygoing face perceptively shifting to a tighter inquisitive stance, I think you know, Consul Laker.

Do I?

Yes, I think you do. You have always known more about Alcazar and…its businesspeople… than many people had appreciated.

Karlie ignored the implied reference, and painfully fought memories of her pre-Shane not-so-secret intimate relationship with a privileged son from Alcazar’s high-profile Baker family. I always try and learn as much as I can about a country. Information allows me to be more effective in my job.

Really?

Yes.

Do you know enough now to realize you are no longer at your job in Alcazar?

Karlie stared at Milagros for a long minute. The unthreatening banter and welcoming demeanor had transformed into a serious challenge to her comfort. What do you mean?

You are not in Alcazar. You do not have Alcazaran ties to the work you will be doing in your new post in Chile.

Oh really. You have investigated my future assignment?

No, but I know the geo-political connections between the countries of the world. You no longer have a connection to Alcazar involving Alcazar’s families. Any information you have is old information, outdated. This is not information you can use for any…new reason.

No?

No.

And what if I believe my information is still valid?

Milagros leaned back in her chair. Then you should be very careful. You and Shane Taylor should be careful. Many people have not forgotten the…disruption you caused in Alcazar. When you left they expected you…your government’s interference to be over.

"Disruption I caused?"

You…your government…the IPA…whoever you want to say. In all cases, people in Alcazar expect the disruption to be over.

The disruption is over when there is no longer any reason for it to continue.

The reasons died during your posting.

A brief brush of pain swept over Karlie. One of the reasons who had died was her intimate, a man who was found dead after a mysterious car accident no one could explain. The reasons come from big families, Karlie forcefully said. The families are not dead.

Milagros sighed. Karlie, you are taking a huge risk for a world that does not concern you. Alcazar is a small country doing very little on the world stage. You do not need to be involved in its activities.

The fact you are trying hard to prevent my involvement leads me to believe Alcazar is doing a great deal on the world stage, or at least an important part of it. Much more than you are willing to admit.

I encourage you to go on to your posting, and leave your past experience behind.

Why? Why did they send you to warn me off, Milagros?

I am only recommending you move on, for your sake.

And if I don’t?

You know how Alcazar works, Karlie. The survival of the island and its people is all some of our citizens care about, and they will pursue the survival at any price.

Karlie impassively looked at her. The rest of us want our survival too. And we will pursue it without reluctance.

Then you take your chances with a desperate people.

The odds do not concern me.

They should, Karlie. This time they should. You have rolled the dice before when testing Alcazar’s families, how many lives do you think you have?

Defiantly, Karlie stated, as many as it takes to win.

PART TWO: ON A SCATTERED HILLSIDE

Chapter Six

Andrew Vashon switched on his mobile phone and lay back in his patio chair. From his position within the grounds of a once dominant castle transformed into a modern mansion home, he could see the rolling countryside of the Hungarian hills presented before his eyes. Trim, athletic, and intelligent, as a beautiful, privileged Vashon from Alcazar, Andrew had grown up expecting luxury and comfort. Having traveled the world through school and university, and for more than a decade in business with his