Page 19 of Rush

“Just looking for sturdy young men to help us rebuild our village,” said one of them.

“Which village? We have work crews out helping everyone,” said the man.

“Fine, fine, we’ll leave,” he said. The police officer watched him leave, and the VG team was frustrated. They wanted to hear what else the men would say. But it didn’t matter. They would be out on another day, and they would find them.

“Let’s make our way toward the water,” said Noah. “Trak says he has found something interesting.”

Trak stood at the edge of the harbor, looking out at the Bosphorus. If you closed your ears, seeing just the people, shops, and restaurants, you would think you were in any trendy American or European city.

But Trak knew differently. He remembered another time standing in this very spot. There weren’t as many shops or restaurants back then. He was able to hide himself in the darkness behind a long warehouse building.

He’d waited for days for the man to show his face. A man who’d been taking little girls and boys from their schools, using them for his own pleasure, and then selling them. This night, he was planning on taking a group to Belarus on his yacht.

Known for his patience and ability to go without sleep for days on end, Trak waited there for him, watching the yacht. When his limousine pulled up, he gave instructions to the men to bring the children below deck when they arrived.

Trak remembered the churning burn in his stomach. The sick, twisted mind of the man made him physically ill. Stripping off his clothing, he slowly lowered himself into the water and swam silently through the water to the back of the yacht. Tied at his waist and calves, were several lethal knives. Once near the yacht, he climbed aboard, making no sound whatsoever.

The three men who were on board had no idea what was happening. One by one, he slit their throats, leaving them to stain the deck of the multi-million-dollar yacht with their blood. When he found his way below deck, he entered the man’s bedroom, only to see him lying naked, readying himself for the children.

Trak held the knife to his throat as the man gasped for air, begging him to let him go.

“Remember my name in the afterlife. I am Joseph Redhawk. Grandson of Nathan Redhawk of the Navajo people.”

He admittedly went overboard that night. He wasn’t sure what it was that sent him into a blood rage, but he left the man in pieces on the bed.

When he was done, he went back into the water, rinsing the blood of the men from his body. Climbing out, he dressed and waited for the van with the children.

They were never even removed from the vehicle. Trak killed the driver and passenger before they could open their doors.

Opening the back of the van, he stared at the terrified faces and brutalized bodies. They whimpered at the sight of the dark man, and he tried to smile to help them know he wasn’t going to harm them. Most were barely clothed.

Reaching into his pack, he handed them sweets and water, then called the local police. When the lights and sirens were close enough that he felt safe leaving the children, he nodded at them.

“Take care, little ones. You are safe now.”

He wasn’t sure that any of the children understood him, but he knew that they understood they were safe. That was all that mattered.

Now, he stood in almost the exact same spot, watching tourists act as if an earthquake hadn’t devastated parts of the country. They sipped their coffee or tea, ate their Turkish delight, ordered their drinks, bought their overpriced souvenirs.

All while one man was watching from his perch. A man they all knew was waiting for his time.

Ari Grigoryan.

CHAPTER TEN

“What’s he doing?” asked Caroline, seeing the man pace back and forth on the penthouse balcony.

“He’s probably praying as he walks,” said Rush. “But what he’s really doing is looking for weaknesses. He’s trying to see where the police are, where they come from, how many, all of it. It doesn’t appear that there’s been extensive damage here in Istanbul. He was probably hoping that wouldn’t be the case.”

“Why? I mean, wouldn’t he want a city intact if he was going to take it over?” asked Caroline.

“No. He would want a city devastated so that he could be the hero,” said Noah. Trak nodded at the big man, then looked out at the water once more. “Are you alright, Trak?”

“Yes. Just remembering something that happened here many years ago. I was like your son back then. I always operated alone. Sometimes that’s good. You can get in and out fast. No one sees you. Other times, the burden of what you see, what you do, weighs heavy on your heart.”

“Dad, do you want to talk about it?” asked Joseph.

He smiled at his son, gripping his shoulder. His beautiful ghost-talking wife had made him a more compassionate man, and Trak was grateful for that.

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