TS 2 Part VI Chapter 18 Part A

Chapter 18

April 27^th, 2012

Moscow

With his hands trembling from exhaustion and terror, Ramazov tried several times to get the key in the keyhole. The five men surrounding him, one of them holding his eldest girl drove him more and more nervous. “Please, let her go. I did my part.”

“You have not returned what you took from me; my child and lover,” Constantin answered coldly. “Pray they're here.”

Ramazov opened the door and immediately saw the empty flat. He closed his eyes and waited for the final blow at her daughter but he heard nothing.

“Release the girl,” Constantin said. “Let the local scum decide what to do with her.”

Ramazov looked at him without comprehending the words.

“If she's clever she'll go to a policeman, if she's not, she's good as dead,” Constantin sneered before he entered the small flat.

“Run, Nadia! Run to your mother!” Ramazov shouted and watched how she fled through the stairwells.

“In, you piece of shit,” one of the men growled and shoved him inside.

Constantin sat in one of the sofas as his men searched the rooms like rabid dogs, watching carefully the man standing in front of him. 'What happened to all of us? This one is not even worth to go for cigarettes.'

“He was certainly here, boss,” one man said “He also slept here too.”

“There are rests of baby food. Breakfast,” another one added, shouting from the kitchen.

One of the intruders found the slightly hidden computer and began to inspect it at an incredible fast speed. “He sent no messages at all. He only created one e-mail account. I'll break it in a minute, sir.”

“Do it,” Constantin agreed still looking at his abashed prey. “What was the name in the papers you gave him?”

“Fyodor Tarasov from Uruguay. He kept telling that was his name,” Ramazov stammered. “I swear he didn't want to come with us. Oblomov forced him to follow me.”

“Boss, I have something,” the young man engulfed in the computer's screen shouted. “He made several reservations in hotels around Europe under the name of Fyodor and Conor Tarasov. He also bought a ticket back to Buenos Aires from Zurich on May 4^th and he's supposedly travelling tonight on the ferry from Helsinki to Stockholm.”

“Why would he do that?” Dima enquired puzzled.

“He's travelling as a tourist as he's trying to sneak into the European Union. He checked the conditions for Uruguayans to remain in Schengen territory,” the man in the computer explained.

“Now, you all know why Lintorff had so many troubles in the past,” Constantin sneered. “Crazy or not, Fedia still knows how to run away. It's a clever move indeed. He knows that I'm expecting him to run to Lintorff and attack the children the minute he's there. He's playing the lunatic to make me think he's somewhere, wandering lost and crazy and waste my time looking for him when I should be preparing our next operational phase. Little vixen. Perhaps he inherited more from his father than I originally estimated.”

“What do we do now?” Dima asked. “With the plane we can intercept him in Stockholm.”

“We do that,” Constantin agreed with a cold smile. “If he's not there, we proceed according to the plan.”

“And the other thing?” one of the men fearfully asked, gesturing with his head toward Ramazov.

Constantin took his weapon out and killed the man with a clean shot in the head, without changing his position. All the men in the room blanched but said nothing, fearing they would be next.

“Vassily, If we don't get our recalcitrant Fedia back in Stockholm, then you may proceed with Lintorff's bastards. Give the order now but do it very slowly, With any luck, he might be able to attend their funerals. I had enough of this childish game.”

“What about the baby, boss?” Dima said respectfully.

“I have all the time in the world to recover my son, something our enemies don't have. I will not risk our positions or lives for something that is already worthless. We proceed as agreed, is that understood, gentlemen?”

“Yes, boss,” the men said in unison.

* * *

April 27^th, 2012

Ferry Helsinki- Stockholm

Under the astonished look of the young girl at the cashier in H&M, Guntram removed the tags of the clothes he had bought for his son and him and stuffed them in the half full small bag he was carrying, already filled with the diapers, a large powder milk can, two bottles and some glass jars for Konrad. He ignored her as he zipped the new cheap duffel bag up and caught his son before he would crawl under the counter with a “later dear, there's a boat to catch before it gets dark.”

The icy wind hit Guntram's face and he pulled his son's hood closer to his face, automatically checking that he had his gloves on and rearranged him over his right hip and winced when he used his left hand to better position the bag's shoulder strap on the right side too. Carrying a trolley had proven too painful for his left hand and he had switched to the bag. He walked toward the bus stop and was glad it was coming very soon and he would arrive to the harbour one hour before the departure time.

By sheer luck he got off at the right stop and his son chuckled the minute he saw the sea and the seagulls in the dying daylight. “That's the sea and we are going on a ship, Konrad. We are going to sleep there, right over the water.” He walked fast to the hall and identified the queue for the Tallink Silja Lines. He showed the nice girl at the counter his reservation and she extended the ticket, telling him in German where he should go and that he had priority in the boarding as he was with a baby. He thanked her and the man behind him started to shout with her in English because his travel agency had reserved a suite for him and she was knowing nothing of the sort.

“Look, stupid cow, here says very clearly “Superior Luxury Cabin,” he shouted her and she forgot all her English lessons, quickly answering him with a courteous tone in Finnish without loosing her charming ways.

'With such manners, I would also do the same,' Guntram thought as the man increased the volume of his voice. 'Let's help the tourist before the police takes him away for public scandal.'

“Excuse me, sir. I speak German and perhaps I could assist you,” he said in English and the man stopped his shouts. 'American, no doubt. They yell and then ask the questions.'

“That would be great. This woman does not understand that I have first class ticket and wants to send me to the normal queue with the herd.”

Guntram bit his lips to avoid cringing at the man's crude expression. 'Long time no seeing the first class snobs. That happens if you always travel in private jets.' Without saying any other word he asked very politely to the girl what was the problem and she said that he was on the wrong counter and that his bag was going to be sent with the rest of the luggage. He should only walk fifty metres more and there he would find the right line for his “kind of ticket”. Guntram thanked her and apologised in the man's name and she briefly smiled at him.

Without wasting his time with a long explanation to the man, he told him to follow him and he left him in front of the 'snobs queue, already looking upset because they had to wait for two minutes,' according to Guntram's evaluation.

“Hey, boy. Thanks a lot.” The man shouted, taking a good look at Guntram's features, in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable; like a fly under the microscope.

“Not at all,” he mumbled and walked toward his own entrance. 'I don't want to know how was the boarding in the Titanic,' he thought and forgot about the man as he started to show the ships to his son, looking everywhere and dying to be put down in the floor.

'This ferry must be bigger than the Titanic,' Guntram thought, appalled by the large size of the ship, as he entered and the lift took him to the seventh deck where the cheapest cabins were located. He entered in his room and released Konrad who started to walk a few steps but preferred to crawl while his father left the duffel bag over his bunk. A soft knock announced a cabin boy with a portable crib and he unfolded it and arranged the covers as Guntram released Konrad from his coat.

“We sail in twenty minutes. If you go to the upper decks, you can have a very nice view from the harbour and the city,” the crewman said, smiling at Konrad. “The shopping centre opens after six p.m. And it's tax free.”

“A shopping centre?” Guntram asked dumbfounded. “This is a really big ship, indeed.”

“ Ninth deck, sir.”

Once they were alone, Guntram locked the door to shower and change his several days dirty clothes for the ones he had bought at the H&M. He found them a bit big for his size but they were warm and he was surprised when he saw his reflection in the misty mirror. 'It's not as bad as I thought. I'm not so pale but I'm so tired that I don't know if I can get through all this.'

'I have to if only for Konrad.'

He left the mini bathroom and Konrad was waiting for him, standing in his crib, firmly clinging from the crib's upper railing He let him out and changed him into fresh clothes after washing him the best as he could in the basin. “A bath makes you look much better.”

He buttoned up the light blue polo, closed the breastplate of the dark brown corduroy trousers and dressed him with the beige thick jersey the Russian had given him, only fighting a bit with the socks as his son loved to pull them out with his teeth. “Con, let them be,” he chided him and put his soft boots back to prevent him from finally achieving his goal. “We are about to sail, how about if we go to the upper deck and see the city? I can get you a bottle if you want.”

“Dada!”

The large deck was not very crowded as Guntram had feared and found a place to show the city lights to his child. 'I'm finally going home,' he thought dreamingly. 'We are getting away from Russia and Stockholm is the Order's land. I wonder if Heindrik finally married Pilar. He must have like two or three children by now. He was so happy about it. Do they live there or in Zurich? I miss his permanent bantering. Maybe his babies are wearing padawan costumes and swinging lightsabres all over their home,' he thought with a smile. 'But I don't think Pilar would let him do too many stupid things around the children.'

He noticed how Konrad started to wiggle in his arms and realised that it was time for his milk and walked to one of the restaurants to ask if they could warm the ready made bottle and order a coffee for him.

Looking through the window, he partly lamented that everything was surrounded by darkness and he couldn't see the city or the other ships. 'It's a nice country, maybe we can come back one day, Konrad,” he told his son, firmly holding his bottle to drink it by himself. “You can certainly eat, young man.” he added when Konrad focused his big eyes on him. “Your brothers were not so hungry as you always are. Must be this cold weather,” he mused.

When the child finished the bottle and ate some cookies on top, Guntram took him to the toddler's playground and watched how his child immediately walked upright to the other babies sitting on the large carpet. 'You walk when we have an audience around, right Konrad? If not, papa can carry you.' he considered with an amused smile as his baby shook vigorously a toy.

“Hey, there you are!” The American man shouted and stomped in the place to be stopped by one of the baby sitters who told him to remove his shoes if he wanted to be in the area. Guntram couldn't help to smile at the man clumsiness. 'No, he's not a snob, he's socially challenged.'

“Didn't know we were in a fucking Buddhist temple,” he muttered as he came closer to Guntram. “John Althorpe. I wanted to thank you for helping me down there but you just vanished,” he merrily bellowed, extending his hand toward Guntram as all the mothers in the place disapprovingly looked at him.

Guntram hesitated for a brief moment, but shook the hand and curtly said “Fyodor Tarasov.”

“Are you Russian? You don't look like one.”

“I'm not Russian. I come from Uruguay.”

“Is that not in South America?”

“Yes, it is,” Guntram said and returned his attention to Konrad, climbing the mini slider up in the wrong direction. “Excuse me,” he said and went to save his son, hoping that the man would get the idea and go away on his own.

“Your child is very funny,” John commented, rooted in his place. “How old is he?”

“Nineteen months,” Guntram answered as he picked him up to put him inside the swimming pool filled with colourful balls.

“Didn't see the mother. Divorced?” The stranger asked and Guntram's blood froze.

“No, she died some time ago. Cancer. Widower. Excuse me, please.”

“Hey, Fyodor, do you want to have dinner with me? I have a nice place to stay.”

“I'm sorry, but I have to look after my son.”

“I guess they can cook something for him in that fancy restaurant.”

“It's not a good idea, sir.”

“Come on, don't be like this. Since I arrived to Europe all Europeans are real jerks who can't speak English or make a bill without robbing you,” the man smirked. “I'm pretty bored here and you also look like a tourist.”

“I...” Guntram closed his mouth before he could really tell his opinion of the man's aggressive ways. “Europeans don't like to be patronized and your manners are far from widely accepted here. What Americans call “self-confident behaviour” is considered here as “rude”. You have to respect their timing and do your best to try to speak their language, sir.”

“Yeah, they're a bunch of snotty princes who work really slowly. I wanted to speak about that during dinner.”

“I already said no, thank you.”

“Our self-confidence does not allow us to take a no for an answer,” John said with a snug grin and Guntram noticed that he was almost built like a giant. “Probably, you can read a fancy menu too. You can say yes now, and save yourself for my “rude manners”. Come on, kid. It's on me and you look like you could use some meat. Are you one of those anorexic Goth boys? They're pretty hot.”

“First, I ceased to be a boy long time ago and second, I have a heart condition. So please, sir, I will appreciate if you'd leave me alone.” Guntram said through clinched teeth.

“You speak your mind but keep your manners. Funny. Did you learn that somewhere?”

“How about school?” Guntram retorted hotly and very upset with the man and his manners.

“Not in the one I went. Grand Street Wise School,” he answered with a chuckle, greatly enjoying the battle with the cute thing standing in front of him.

Guntram was speechless at the man's audacity and could only remove his boy from the ball pool and pick his shoes before he left the playground with a energetically protesting Konrad in his arms. The man laughed like a hyena and went after Guntram. 'So this how the game starts,' he thought with a smirk.

He caught the young man walking through the corridors with his son still loudly complaining about the interruption. “Your little one has quite a character,” John said with a chuckle. “Look, I didn't want to importunate you but since arrived in this continent, you were the only decent and kind person I've met. Why don't we take him back to the pool and let him play a bit longer? If you don't want diner, I can buy you a coffee there.”

Guntram looked at the tall man and he noticed his son had stopped his tantrum to critically inspect the stranger. “Hello, baby,” he said “What's your name? I'm John,” and Konrad hid his head in his father's shoulder, looking very embarrassed. “Sorry, if I spoilt your fun back there, little guy.”

'At least he knows one rule of civility,' Guntram thought. 'I need to be as inconspicuous as I can and fighting with him is a great way to attract unwanted attention.' “Maybe we could have a coffee,” he conceded.

“Great, back to the pond, so to speak.” The man moved aside to let Guntram pass and take a good look at the young man's back, already busy with his boy. 'A bit on the skinny side, but look as good from behind as from the front. Widower? My ass!'

* * *

“So Fyodor, are you a tourist too?” he asked and wondered why he had asked for a tea instead of a coffee. 'Maybe he's really sick in the heart and that wasn't a joke.'

“I'm travelling around, yes,” Guntram answered vaguely.

“First time in Europe?”

“Yes, it is,” Guntram lied.

“I also. I work since I was fourteen years old and left home. I own several supermarkets. Maybe you heard about us; Tikko. We are almost everywhere in the USA.”

“No, I'm sorry. I was never in the USA,” Guntram said distractedly.

“That's a pity. I own 78 stores.”

“That's an impressive number, indeed,” Guntram said nonchalantly and John noticed that the cute thing was not really caring about him at all.

“I'm in the middle of my divorce. I came here to think and have my peace. She caught me in the middle of something.”

“That's bad but maybe you can work it out.”

“She caught me in bed with a prostitute that she had paid to lure me in. The mess will cost me over five million dollars plus the house in Aspen. No way, I'm letting her have the one in Newport so she can have a great time with her posh girlfriends and penniless old folks. The bitch had enough of me and wanted to get out in the grand way. Imagine, she accused me of soliciting!”

“Hiring prostitutes is a felony in the States, if I remember correctly,”

“She never cared at all before, but the minute she found out about Brendan, she went mad. If you cheat your wife with another woman is fine, but if you do it with your male secretary, the witch goes crazy,” the man said with a grin. “You told me you were a widower, right?”

“Yes, I am, but I'm not a lawyer so I can't help you with your situation.”

“What? No, I already have several lawyers working to save my ass. The boy will testify in my favour and maybe it doesn't cost me so much.”

“It's been interesting to meet you, sir. Good bye.” Guntram said feeling very unease at the turn the conversation. “I have to take my child to bed soon.” He turned around toward the balls pool and John looked at him calmly.

“All right, let's have dinner now,” John shrugged. “I need someone who can read the menu and you look perfect for the job. I'm sick of these Europeans things, sunken in sauce and I want a piece of real meat. Grilled, if possible.” He rose from the table and followed Guntram.

* * *

John watched how Konrad sat at his high chair and quickly finished his purée, peacefully eating from his father's hand, without getting dirty or dropping things around. “He must be the most educated baby I've seen so far,” he commented.

“Conor is a good baby,” Guntram answered curtly, still wondering how he could get rid of the man in a polite way. 'He must come from the same village Konrad does,' he thought bitterly. 'You don't shake him off easily; exactly as him.'

“You manage him very well and he's almost silent.”

“Thank you.”

“I wanted to do business with you. I need someone who can translate and spare me more troubles with the natives. They are really nasty to tourists, you know?”

'Only to people like you,' Guntram thought but kept his mouth closed waiting for the man to further elaborate his proposal.

“Well, I was thinking that you and I could hook up and be together as you also want to visit France, Germany and Italy. You speak German and I a little French. Italian must be the same as Spanish.”

“Hook up?” Guntram asked not really wanting to understand the sentence.

“Yeah, you and me together in the same room.”

“No, thank you. I already have my own hotel reservations.”

“Come on, kid. First class like you have never seen before. I only go to five or six stars hotels. A good car and good accommodations for your services as escort.”

'I'm up to my neck of first class shit.' “As escort?” Guntram asked a bit shocked but with a dangerous edge to his voice.

“You are a little slow, ain't you?” John chuckled. “As escort meaning that you deal with the hotel and waiters, by the way this thing you chose for me was very good, and share the bed with me. Don't tell me this is the first time a man asks you something like this.”

“I thought you were already in troubles for soliciting, Mr. Althorpe,” Guntram replied with a courteous voice, chewing his rage to avoid a vulgar fight in front of his son.

“It's not a crime in Europe, isn't it? Pimping is one. Free market rules apply here,” he said with a grin. “Watcha say?”

“No, thank you.”

“Come on! The holidays of your life and who knows, maybe I keep you afterwards. You look real good and behave like a prince. You had no troubles to match the wine with the dinner and that's something you don't learn in a day.”

“I'm glad you like my educational background, and you certainly could get a better one. Good night.” Guntram said and picked up his child before he started to try to escape from his high chair, but the man caught him by the arm.

“Sit down! No need to take it so personally. One compliment and you get mad at me? Jesus! You're really sensitive, boy. Think overnight and meet me at breakfast. We don't arrive to Stockholm till 10:30 a.m. You can come with me and show me the Museums. I know nothing about that art mumble jumbo and probably will never visit one again. I'm willing to pay you for your services as Cicerone.”

“If you know who Cicerone was, then you don't need me. Buy a catalogue at the Museum's entrance,” Guntram whispered, jerking his arm free. “I have a child with me and do you think I would stay near a man who hires prostitutes?”

“I'm reading-challenged. How about two hundred per day?”

“Dollars or Euros?” Guntram asked with a feigned interest in the offer.

“American Dollars, of course! Is there anything else?”

“I only take Swiss Francs. Good bye.” Guntram answered very seriously and left the room with his son in his arms.

'Shit! That's real class. Even Brendan could have learnt a lot from this one. I'll try my luck again tomorrow. Didn't he say he was coming out from a bad relationship?'

* * *

As announced, the ship reached Mariehamn at 4.30 a.m. And the noise produced by the docking manoeuvres woke up Guntram. Still very sleepy, he looked through the window toward the harbour where some passengers were descending from the ship through as small “board plank” along with some cars. He looked at the people waiting at the harbour and his heart almost stopped when he saw the tall and very recognisable form of Dima and four other men accompanying him and looking inquisitively at the large ferry.

He jumped away from his small window and hid in the darkness of his own room as the thought of Oblomov's betrayal assaulted him. Unable to believe Constantin could have found him so easily, he peered once more through the tiny window but no one was there.

'I'm getting paranoiac.'

* * *

Very afraid, but knowing that he had to feed his child before he would start to yell, Guntram walked, holding his breath, to the cafeteria, keeping distance from people and carrying with himself his papers and money along with the baby's bag, just in case he would need to run away.

He sat in one of the most secluded tables and only took a tea and a sandwich from the buffet while Konrad drank his milk and fearlessly faced a large croissant. Watching his son eat heartedly was like a balm for his nerves. 'Nothing happened. You're getting crazy, just like Constantin said. You see things that are not there,' he thought.

The American man once more sat, uninvited, at his table and cheerfully said “Hi, is that all what you're having?”

“Hello. It's all right by me,” Guntram answered coldly.

“You don't eat much. Where I'm staying is much better. Breakfast buffet and the bread looks real, not plastic as this one. I know what I'm speaking about.”

“Perhaps you should write a letter of complaint to the company,” Guntram answered dryly and Konrad smiled bewitchingly to the stranger and returned his attention to the cookie his father had given him to keep him quiet.

“Don't they serve fruits for the children?”

“I don't know. You should ask the crew.” Guntram replied and purportedly turned his back to the man.

“Not talking to me, uh?” John huffed.

Guntram didn't hear the American as his heart stopped when he saw one of Dima's men enter in the cafeteria. His mind rushed to find any logic explanation as why one of Constantin's goons was here. 'Did Oblomov give me away? No, he was killed in the car bombing. Did they catch the other Russian? He didn't know where I was going! He told me to call Konrad! The computer! He must have found the reservations for this ship! He turned his back to the man and returned his attention to the American as he hid Konrad under the table. 'They can't start a shooting here. There's no escape route and they're not so crazy as to kidnap a whole ferry.'

“Giving me the cold shoulder won't help you at all. I'm used to deal with difficult providers and bitchy wives,” John said and Guntram looked at him in disbelief, finding hard to understand what the man was bragging about.

'If Dima is here, Constantin is nearby too. He will not forgive me for running away with Konrad. He thinks the baby belongs to him! He will kill me and keep him to himself! Or he will kill my other boys just to make me pay! I can't let him find me!'

The Russian carefully looked at all the passengers and but he left the place without giving away if he had seen Guntram or not. 'Fuck! He probably knows where I'm staying and goes there. I can't return to the cabin. I have the money and papers with me. Maybe I can pull a stunt on them, but I'm not sure if it will work at all.'

Guntram looked at the American, now making faces at Konrad and he gulped before he made up his mind. 'They're looking for me and the baby, not for two men and a baby and much less for a man with a car. They don't know who John is.'

“If I go with you, do you swear to keep yourself away from my son?” he asked slowly.

“Sure! I like boys in their twenties. I'm not into children,” John answered very surprised as he had already believed “the prince” to be lost battle but for his pride's sake he couldn't pull back after only one attempt. “The baby can stay in the living room of the suite, but we sleep together.”

“Do you have a car?”

“Porsche Cayenne. I wanted something big. European cars are for dwarfs. God, don't they have decent parking lots here? All of them for go-go carts.”

“All right. I'll go with you in Stockholm and we'll see how it goes,” Guntram said, looking at the man in the eyes. “We never do anything in front of my son and if you come near him, I'll kill you,”

John laughed but Guntram's piercing eyes filled his soul with dread. “OK, I'll reserve my hands only to you and I hope you know that I'm quite hard to satisfy in bed. I need it everyday. How old are you?”

“Around thirty and have no sexual diseases. I will not let you touch me without protection. A condom. Is that clear?”

“Crystal. About the money...”

“No need to pay me,” Guntram answered harshly. “Pay the lodging and everything else and we are fine. I need to do some shopping in Stockholm.”

“Fine, but no more than five hundred Swedish Crowns and I want to try the wares first. I have a suite at the...”

“Let's go to your cabin, now,” Guntram interrupted him, getting more and more nervous to be in an open space.

“You're fast. Didn't take you for one,” John said shocked.

“Let's save some time. I assume you have a suite here.”

“And sixty minutes before we touch land,” John said with a grin.

* * *

Inside the spacious first class cabin on the upper deck, Guntram removed his coat and left it over the sofa as his child began to crawl over the carpet, “Oops, come back here Conor,” he said and caught his baby to put him in a self made playpen with two chairs and the sofa. He took a rattle from his pocket and gave it to Konrad who started to play with it, not minding any longer about his father.

He turned around and faced John. “Your bedroom?” he asked softly.

“I thought we could kiss before we go for all,” the big man said still astonished at the quick change of heart of the youth.

“Do you want it or not?” Guntram said dryly, starting to lose his patience.

“I do want it, but this is not how I imagined it.”

“You said you wanted to taste the wares, so here I am, giving you a free sample. Is not that what professionals do?”

“Professionals charge first and give nothing for free,” John mumbled.

Guntram huffed and walked into the bedroom to be followed by John, still astonished and wondering what could have made the “ice prince” to change his views so much. He watched how Guntram started to remove his jersey and shoes, sitting on the disarranged king size bed. John sat next to him and put his hand on Guntram's head and pulled him closer before he kissed him delicately.

Guntram closed his eyes and let the man do as he pleased, becoming completely pliant in his arms, almost dissolving himself in the embrace to let his partner take the lead. John kissed Guntram, enjoying enormously that the youth let him do as he wanted but at the same time returned his attentions with a maddening aloof attitude. 'A true prince, really,' he thought.

“Stop now,” John said, breaking the kiss and doing his best to catch his breath back. “The crew has to pick the bags up and put them in my car. We don't want to put on a show for free, right?”

“As you prefer,” Gutram said evenly without showing any emotion.

“You certainly know how to kiss, boy. Didn't expect you had so much fire in you. We are going to the hotel room the minute we go on shore. Definitively.”

'I have to get him to his car and hide Konrad inside it before Constantin's men realise I'm not coming back to my cabin.' Guntram smiled and softly caressed the man's face with his palm. “Maybe we should go to your car. We touch land in twenty minutes or so.”

“Don't you want to pick up your things first?” John asked dumbfounded.

“Why? You just told me I look like a beggar with these clothes and offered first class accommodation. I can't enter in one of this fancy places wearing something from the H&M.”

“Hey, I said five hundred Swedish crowns!”

“I have some money of my own. I will keep my end of the deal.”

“Suit yourself.”

“That's a very impolite thing to say. Even if you think that my approach on the situation is rash or stupid, it should never be shown or if you must say it, do it in a way that is not so vulgar,” Guntram said haughtily.

“What the fuck are you saying now?”

“Keeping my part of the deal. I show you the good places and help you to improve your relations with the natives. Suit yourself is very rude expression in my opinion. You could have told me: “As you wish”; “Indeed” or even “Of course, we can meet at the hotel at four o'clock”. I would have understood that you have no interest at all in my doings and do my errands on my own.”

“Are you gonna chastise me for every fucking word I say? You ain't my fucking mother!”

“That's another thing. Avoid cursing so much as you do. Words also wear off if you abuse them and lose their power. If you curse all the time, the intended emphasis is lost as it becomes common and vulgar. I close my ears to your rants. But if you save them and use them only on special occasions, then people will realise when you're really mad at them.”

“Indeed,” John sneered, imitating a British upper class accent. “What did I really tell you, hot brains? We, Americans are straight speaking people.”

“That was an ironic remark and you have showed me your complete disregard for my ideas as you are a self made man on the top of the social scale and I am nothing else than a beggar with a baby in a third class cabin,” Guntram answered sweetly. “But tell me, whom did the waiter called sir yesterday night? To you or me?”

“Fucking boy,” John mumbled and Guntram only rose an eyebrow with the quirk of a smirk playing from his lips.

“I've made the acquittance of many American citizens in the past and believe me, they can be very straightforward and never lose their manners.”

“You sound like fucking Brendan,”

“Was he your former friend?” Guntram asked softly, hoping to win some more time over. “You are permanently mentioning this name.”

“The fucker left me after my wife made a huge scandal. Pretty Harvard boys don't like to be seen in public with a guy like me. They never did a thing in their fucking lives, but they think they're kings of the world. He was always belittling me because I didn't go to college. He found a tobacco guy worth almost the same as I.”

“But with better manners?”

“You're a fucker too.”

“Perhaps I am, but I did I curse once during the past ten minutes we were speaking? By the looks of it, it seems I have the lead as you're getting more and more out of your senses.”

“Fuck... Fine, I'll talk like my grandma,” John groaned and rose from the bed. “Should I open the door for you, my dear?” he added evilly.

“I'm not a fucking lady.” Guntram answered without a single inflection in his voice and John froze in his careless walk to the door and looked at him with wide open eyes. “Do you see my point now? You're shocked because I swore. You normally don't take me seriously because of my “soft” and “princely” manners, but there you are; looking like a rabbit in front of the car lights.”

“OK, you might have a point there,” John mumbled and opened the door from the bedroom and almost tripped with the baby freely crawling all over the place.

“Hey, your son escaped!” he yelled when he saw Konrad freely rolling over the fluffy carpet. Guntram rushed in the small living room and picked Konrad up and softly chided him for not staying put in his place as he dressed him again in his large navy blue Montgomery duffle coat, fighting a bit to get the gloves on.

John watched that the coat Guntram was wearing had nothing to do with the other ordinary clothes from a mall or a retail supermarket he wore. He felt disoriented and once more looked at the boy as he was fumbling with his coat's buttons as if his left hand would have some kind of handicap. His shoes were of a very good leather and probably custom made as well as his trousers.

Guntram picked up his son and the ever present “baby bag” and briskly walked through the corridor, hoping that the men after him were busy at his old cabin. 'With this stupid little fight I won enough time as to go to the car in time to drive away. John won't notice the rush.' John had to run to not be left out of the elevator.

“Where's the fire?” he said out of breath.

“You also kiss very well,” Guntram lied and cast his eyes down.

“Wait till you see what I can do with the Captain,” John grinned and Guntram had to bit his lips to avoid a nasty retort to escape from his lips.

Both men reached the lower deck and John walked toward a big black Porsche Cayenne and gave s note to the young man placing his bags inside the backside. “Hey, we have no baby seat, coming to think.”

“It's one of the things I need to get,” Guntram answered. “Maybe at your rental car agency.”

“Could be but buying a new one is always cheaper than renting one. Are you sure about this?”

“Having cold sweats?” Guntram asked disdainfully, but felt his heart cringe with fear.

“None. What about you?”

“I'm fine with this,” the youth whispered and opened the passenger's seat and climbed in, carrying his son in the arms.