Page 43 of Shadows of the Past


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“Because he’ll have us followed.”

Dimitri looked behind him. No one seemed focused on them, but they’d passed many shopkeepers, homeowners sweeping the sidewalk, or taxi or delivery drivers passing slowly on the narrow roadways.

They hadn’t been to this district before.

“Why? Moira? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“He took quite an interest in you, I was told.”

“Who said that?”

“Who do you think? He told my father to make sure you stayed on the island. He wanted to talk to you. That either means he sees you as a potential enemy or a useful ally.”

He picked up she was irritated with him.

“Are you upset about something?”

They turned a corner, and out of nowhere, a small door led to tiny steps up and then wound down through a series of switchbacks into the tunnel system proper. This part was dimly lit, so the tiny steps weren’t so cumbersome for Dimitri’s big feet. Thank God he hadn’t worn the red flats.

She abruptly stopped and turned to him. “Can you not get us into trouble? Can’t you just tamp down your ego a little until weget the Hell out of here?” she said, her forehead in a spiderweb of lines.

“You can’t talk to a man like that by showing fear.”

“But you don’t have tochallengehim.”

“He doesn’t know that. The reason he wants to talk to me is he wants to find out. I’m not going to let him. What’s going on, Moira?”

“Did you hear that conversation about my sister?”

“How could I help overhearing? Everyone did.”

“Now she’s being pressured to go on dates with the boys. My mother is in tears, and I’m pretty sure my dad’s pissed at you.”

“Moira, you don’t understand these people.”

“Oh, I know a lot more than you do. They’re my fuckin’ family. The people we need to get away from.”

“And we will.”

“Hmph,” she said, turning to continue down the steps into the bowels of the hill.

He followed behind her, wondering how he could have played it any better than he had. If he was trying to ingratiate himself to the Don, if he needed weeks or months to coordinate something, that would be different. But they had to get out of there. It was getting denser than the D.C. fog, the “official darkness.”

It would do no good to speak until they got home. She was walking so briskly, it was hard for him to keep up. She had knowledge of the whole hill and all the tunnels, and she leaned to-and-fro based more on her memory of the shape and size of the tunnels than what she could see. Dimitri, on the other hand, was bumping into outcroppings of stones and even old house foundations made of rubble, steel, and bricks. Walls were plastered but crumbling. Steps were uneven, winding to the right or left, regardless of the height of the ceiling above or the upcoming turn or change in elevation. There was a lot to guess atwithout proper illumination. He bumped his head once, and he knew he was bleeding.

At last they reached their door.

Once inside, she ran at him, beating his chest. “Dammit, Dimitri. Why did you stir it up?”

He held her arms out from his body, careful not to grip too tight. “Wait a minute. I didn’t do anything of the sort. This man is no stranger to intrigue and death and destruction, Moira. It’s pure folly to think you can reason with him. Just like Francone. It’s the same mistake all over again.”

“Except you only had to buy us some time, a few days. Not months, not a whole escape plan, Dimitri. Just a couple of fuckin’ days.”

“I did just that. In less than two days’ time, we’ll be safely on our way home. Hopefully to a life you said you wanted. Hopefully to the freedom you say you covet. But you don’t get there by appeasing monsters. Monsters don’t have the moral fiber you have, sweetheart. They are incapable of caring anything about the family they are supposedly trying to protect. I got him thinking about going after me. I think he sized me up differently than he’d expected.”

“Except maybe now he’ll want to hand all of us over to Francone.”

“You really think so? He’d risk the whole family fearing he couldn’t stand up to little old me, the rainbow ‘faggot’ of California, boyfriend of a distant cousin? He runs scared from an altercation? You think that’s a position of strength, that his reputation will grow in their eyes? You’re wrong if you do. In the old days, he’d have had his guys fire on the lot of you. But he can’t do that, can he? He’d be forced into isolation, prison, for murdering Americans. You think he’d be allowed to get away with it? Think about it, Moira!”

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