TS3 Book IX The Hochmeister

Book IX

Chapter 1

Guntram de Lisle's diary 

June 11^th, 2015

Geneva

I never thought he would do something like this. I know he's a compulsive liar and most of the time he lies out of  habit. 

But never to this extent. 

I'm staying with Kurt at a hotel, glad that he's in bed, sleeping like a log, after dragging him to the train and then, looking for a place to stay. At least I had enough cold blood as to gather all our papers before leaving. 

I'll probably need new papers to avoid the Order but if anything happens with the police, I’ll still keep the original ones. 

The morning started quite normally. I was feeling much better and decided to finally drive to my flat in Zurich and start working again. The boys went to school and Marko drove me to the city. Just as I had imagined, everything was pristine and set in order with the exception of my atelier where the people who brought part of my things to the house, had made a little mess. I began to make a list of the things I needed to replace. 

The bell rang and there was Julius, exuberant as always. He just stormed  my place saying that he was so happy to see me alive and began to tell about all what I've missed the past eleven months. I was a bit overwhelmed by his prattle but did my best to follow him. He knew a lot of stories and was trying to talk me into returning to the public spot and that I was a fool to reject “Big Brother”. 

“No, that was the best thing I did in my life.” I said and he frowned. “The lawyers had to work hard to get me out of the hook of that contract with those awful watches. I'm sorry for Marina but I'm not ready to face all that jazz again.” 

“I'm so sorry about that lawyer. It shows how fragile everything is,” he sighed. 

“Excuse me?” 

“The lawyer, remember? He had a French name; the bulldog who settled that little matter between us when I moved here. I saw it on the newspapers and thought it could be he because of the car, the Maybach. When I saw it from my window, I thought: ‘Julius, you chose the wrong profession. You'll never get a car like that unless you marry a sheik or win the lotto and that's sooo not going to happen.’.” 

“Do you mean Michel Lacroix?” 

“Yes! That's the name. He was Belgian, I remember that now. He was quite furious that I mentioned your mother and I'm still ashamed about that, but that's in the past. If he was overseeing your contracts, I pity the other party. What a temper!” 

“I haven't seen in a long time.” I was cursing Michel inwardly. “You heard something about him?” 

“Oh! You don't know.” Julius looked quite abashed and for the first time since we know each other, he blushed and fixed his eyes on the wooden floor. 

“What happened? Tell me.” I asked slowly. “It was very strange that he didn't visit me on the hospital or later. He was... my godfather. My sons love him very much. I was in bed all the time and don't really know what has happened all these months.”

Julius looked really uncomfortable. He fidgeted in the sofa and drank some water to clear his throat before speaking. “I don't remember the date because I wasn't really paying much attention to it, but when I read the news, saw the car, the name and that the victim was a lawyer, I put things together. It was a car accident, in a tunnel and that's funny because the car lost its power steering and those Maybachs never do something like that. I know it from the guy who organizes the Mercedes Fashion Week. They always want my girls for the show. Anyway, when it's our call, it's our call. It was on the news too because of the traffic jam it caused. I saw his picture too and it was him, I'm pretty sure of that.” 

I just sat there, motionless and I guess I wasn't breathing at all because Julius shook me to get me out of my shock. 

All this time I've been thinking the worst of my father and he had been murdered! That was no accident. I know it well. 

They did it and did it quickly before he would have got away or said something. My father had enough shit on Konrad to bury him but he did his best to get him out of jail. 

I never felt so betrayed in my life. Not even when Constantin showed me that my father was still alive. 

Konrad had killed him and covered his memory with shit. He never told me “your father had an accident” but “his bank accounts were emptied”. 

I trusted him and he killed him. 

Maybe my father was behind the “semi-upheaval” but Konrad never gave him the chance to explain himself. He just executed him making it look like an accident. 

Just like a second rate mobster. 

“Are you all right?” Julius asked me and I blinked. “I'm so sorry to have told you this. I didn't know. It's my big mouth. Always.” 

“You did right,” I forced a smile and he took two steps away from me. “Really. It's not your fault.” 

“Maybe I got it wrong.” 

“I don't think so.” I put my mobile phone out and quickly googled Maybach + car crash and there were many, many results. I could only read one but the initials of the victims were Michel’s and Thabo’s. 

“Do you need something? You look like about to faint. I'll get a doctor or something.” 

“Just a glass of water please,” I said rather brutally but he didn't take offense and went to the kitchen for it.   

I still don't know what happened or how I did it but in those two minutes that it took for Julius to go to my kitchen, I made up my plan. If Konrad (or the others) had killed my father -and something inside me was telling me so-, Kurt and I weren't safe with them. 

No, it wasn't that. 

I didn't want my child to call “papa” to the man who had just done his grandfather and lied to his biological father, making him believe that his own blood was tainted. I couldn't allow it and wasn't going to allow it. 

I drank the water and felt better. I needed more information but the way I've been “separated from the rest of the world for my own sake” looked more and more like a golden prison. I've seen almost no letters or received phone calls. I was allowed to play with the children or talk with Goran and his pals. Konrad was visiting me every day, even after we returned from Italy, but I was banned from the main house. “No dear. Why do you want to spend the night in a formal dinner? It only drives you nervous,” the hypocrite would tell and I would buy it because I hated to be in the middle of their murky business. 

Not even Ostermann was showing up again after he went to Abu Dhabi and I'm sure he had a lot to tell. Coco dropped the idea of a coloring book and she told me to focus on my cousin's harmless poetry. 

I got books, pencils, nice nurses and total isolation from everything. 

I felt like a dunce as I heard Julius speak about how difficult it was to get in touch with me. 

“Can I ask you a favor?” I interrupted him and he looked at me shocked. “I need to go to a place but I'm not allowed to drive. I sent my driver away on some errands and his replacement won't come until late afternoon. Could you give me a ride, please?” Taking a taxi was out of the question because the moment I set a foot on the foyer, I'd have two or three Serbs asking what I need. 

He blinked once or twice. “Yes, of course. The girls are busy with Karina and I have nothing to do till lunch. Is it far?” 

“No, not much.” I replied. “Fifteen minutes from here. Just let me get something from my bedroom.” 

I went to fetch my father's house keys, the spare set he gave me once and I never used. I needed to wash my face with cold water to clear my thoughts. There, I realized that I had nothing with me. Actually, I had some cash and credit cards but no papers or cash enough as to get my son away. All my money was in Konrad's bank and the little I had spared, was not enough to start a new life. 

I needed to return to the house to get what I needed back, like for example the key and codes to the safe box in Geneva, at my “uncle's” bank. Charles was certainly going to bite my head off but I didn't know anyone else who wasn't related to the Order. 

I took the keys and left my mobile phone on my desk after I took the memory card with me. My father once told me I should look in his safe box and ask Fairuza if something happened to him. 

Julius drove me to his house and I thanked him. I used the keys and tapped the security code. It was horrible to enter in the house and see it completely closed, with the blinds down and the furnitures covered with white sheets. I felt like crying but I didn't indulge myself on it. 

I went to his library-studio and by the way the papers were arranged on his table, someone might had been there. I was sure it wasn't Fairuza because she knew well where everything was. I felt nervous and thought that everything might have disappeared. I opened the safe box and there was only some money and jewels from my mother. 

Not a single document. 

That was funny because the thing was always full of them. 

I sighed and walked towards the master bedroom. 

All cleaned and my anger was beginning to surpass my sadness. 

'If you want to play, we'll play, Konrad.' I told to myself and went to the guest room where Kurt slept some nights. 

Just as my father had told me, glued under the bed was a Sectera mobile phone with the charger included. I plugged it and switched the thing on, looking for Fairuza's number.

She answered at the third ring. She began to cry when she heard my voice. 

“I just found it out today. They told me he went away.” I babbled and felt the tears rolling down my face. I think I sobbed several times. “I didn't know it and they told me you went away too. Disappeared.” 

“No, never. I was loyal to Mr. Lacroix. He helped my family a lot. I tried to see you but I couldn't pass the gate. I was told to go away. I'm in Brussels with my family now.” 

“My... he told me to ask you for directions. His safe box is empty.” 

“I know,” she answered and said some things in Arabic. “Not important. Go to the other. The one in the kitchen. I'll tell you. They killed him and Thabo. Good men they were.” 

I felt a knot in my throat but I couldn't say a word. I went downstairs, to the kitchen and moved away the plastic cupboard used to store the cleaning things and removed the heavy tile on the wall. There was a small hole behind it and I put my hand inside and found two large and thick envelopes inside. 

I took them and opened them over the kitchen counter. The memory of having coffee with my father assaulted me but I shut it down. “I'm so sorry, papa,” I said and bestrewed the contents over the marble. 

There were fake papers for me and Kurt; Maurice and Nicholas Lacroix, credit cards, some money, gold bullions, memory sticks and a handwritten letter. 

My dear Son, 

If you find this letter then I'm probably dead at the hand of the Order and you're looking for a way out. 

Go to your uncle de Mornay in Geneva. He knows it all and will tell you what to do. Charles has always been on your side. He will help you to escape and has access to my money. Everything I owe is yours. 

You made me very happy with the second chance you gave me. I wish I could repay you for the damage I caused you. I never meant to. My grandchild was the greatest joy I ever had. 

I love you both with all my heart. 

Jerôme de Lisle Guttenberg Sachsen

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks but it wasn't the moment for weakness. I texted Fairuza telling her I had everything and good-bye. She's the finest woman I've ever met and I'm sure she risked her life to contact me. 

The papers, the money and the gold was enough to get me out of the continent but I was afraid. What if I was caught with false papers? You can say that you're leaving your husband with your own child but the fake things? That's harder to explain and I was alone. I didn't have any back ups. 

I needed the real things and my papers were at Konrad's safe box in his private studio. 

How to get them? 

I needed to be swift and quick if I wanted to do it. 

I phoned a taxi and put everything inside my pockets along with the phone. I took two pills on the way to the castle and I swear the entrance guards nearly had a heart attack when they saw me in the taxi. 

“Most stupid thing, Johannes,” I told the gorilla at the door. “I went to buy paints and forgot my credit card here.” 

He meekly opened the gate and moved aside as the taxi drove along. I asked the driver to wait for me while poor Dieter, looking pale as a ghost opened the door for me. Obviously, I wasn't supposed to be roaming free without my bodyguards. Constantin's men were a bit more discreet while “walking me”. 

“Can you believe that I took my wallet and forgot the credit cards?” I told him. “I'm in the store, the bill is ready and I have nothing to pay. Incredible.” Dieter moved aside and I went inside walking quite fast. 

“We can send someone to pick the materials, sir,” he told me.

“Oh no. I have to apologize to those kind ladies for my own stupidity.” I said. “I've been their customer for over ten years and I do this.” I entered in the studio with the butler in trail and he looked a bit nervous that I was there. 

“Probably the Duke left them here,” I said as I typed the code and God bless Konrad for being such an anal retentive prick because he didn't change the combination and the door opened. I took the capybara leather briefcase where I keep my papers and found the black plastic thing. 

“My lucky day. See?” I said triumphantly while I showed it and Dieter nodded nervously. I carelessly moved around and knocked some of Konrad's papers off and he dived to the floor for them. I took Kurt's papers while Dieter was picking up the folders. 

“Thank you, Dieter. Just close it.” I said flippantly and left the room at full speed. 

I entered in the taxi and the driver was still gaping at the place. I gave him the address of the school and we drove away. 

In the highway I realized that we were being followed and it made me nervous and upset at the same time. Massaiev had more class when it came to keep me with a short leash. These idiots were tail tailing me so close that if the cab went to the brakes, they were going to lose a headlight or two. 

I asked the taxi driver to go to the artist shop where I always buy stuff. I got out of the car, paid and saw the black BMW park a few meters ahead of us. No, discretion was not on their list of priorities today. 

God bless old stores and crystal windows covered with thousands of painting lessons, exhibitions, au pairs, baby sitters, new stuff, and a long etc.  of ads. It's impossible to see a thing from the outside. You have to know that the store is there because you won't find it by just walking by. 

I entered and the oldest of the two sisters was there. It made me feel bad to use her in such a way but I didn't have any other way out. I smiled and asked her to get me four canvases of a crazy size. 

“Oh, I have them on the back and high. I can't put them down. My sister isn't here.” 

“Don't worry, Ms. Girbt. I can put them down for you.” I said. 

“Yes, dear you know where they are better than I do,” she said and led me to the back of the shop. I helped her to put the things down and asked for a few things more while I checked that the back door wasn't locked. 

It was open like always. They never lock anything and if nobody has mugged them so far, it's because this is Switzerland. 

“Don't you have a credit card?” She asked me when she saw the 500 Francs note. “I have no change.” 

“I left everything at home. It's from the money I keep in my desk.” 

“Don't worry. I'll get change,” she said and left the store making me feel like shit when I crossed the shop and used the back door, leaving Konrad's gorillas behind. 

If part of my story was true, why the rest wouldn't be too? They never thought about checking the other door or even block it.

I had to run after a tramway and it was really painful to sit there, out of breath and with a burning pain on the left side for three or four stops more. I took another taxi to the school and asked the driver to wait while I picked Kurt. 

The receptionist was a bit surprised to see me but I told her that Kurt had an appointment with his pediatrician for a vaccine and that his brothers would go home the usual way. She went for him while I signed some papers.

Kurt was bouncing with happiness to be early released and didn't ask about his brothers. He was a bit shocked to see a taxi and not a car but he jumped in and smiled as I told the driver to go to the Hauptbanhoff. 

Funny, we passed by the bank and Kurt waved his hand to the building around the corner. 

“Are we seeing papa?” he asked me. 

“No, we're going on an adventure. You and I. We'll take a train to Geneva.” 

“No bags?” 

“We don't need them.” I said and luckily he was distracted by the large McDonalds in front of the train station. I paid the taxi driver and took his backpack in one hand and he on the other and pulled him to the nearest ticket vending machine. He was so impressed by the thing taking money and giving tickets that he forgot to bombard me with questions about it. 

“McDonalds!” he told me when I was beginning to drag him to a coffee shop to buy him lunch and find a plug to load the new phone. I agreed and we went there. I didn't have the stamina to endure one of his tantrums. 

For him it was a world class experience to stand in line and grab your own tray. I was glad to find a plug and nearly threw up at the stench of the things served there. 

We finally got onto the train and Kurt was very happy with the whole thing, looking through the window. We arrived to Geneva at five and I felt disoriented. I didn't want to go directly to my uncle Charles' villa and registered myself under the new papers’ identity in a small hotel at the Rue Rousseau. The place was fine and I told Kurt to go to bed but he said: “No, I can't go to bed.” When I was going to tell him a few things, he added “I have no pyjamas. I can't go to bed.” 

I had to go out again to the streets to buy him a set of pyjamas and some clothes for the next day and an early dinner. Kurt was shocked that no saleswoman was coming to him in the Zara to bring him clothes, a cocoa or having to queue to pay for something. It's not his fault he's so detached from the rest of the world. I never wanted that but it just happened. 

Like everything else. 

For a second I felt bad about it because by now my boys would have realized that Guntram was gone and I knew they would suffer a lot. 

The temptation of sending everything to hell and return to Zurich was powerful but what kind of life would I be giving to my child? I couldn't return there and I needed to find a way to leave Europe. 

On the way back to the hotel we passed by a Mediamarkt or Saturn, and I bought a small laptop to read the material my father had left me. Kurt had his eyes wide open in the store and I had to let him watch TV late, so I could have some privacy to phone Charles de Mornay. 

Instead of sending me to hell, he was very concerned about me. He said he had tried to speak to me when I left the hospital but Konrad had nearly kicked him out from the house. Then he had some real problems (courtesy to Lintorff Privatbank) with some investments in Poland and lost about 7 million euros of his private fortune. He was quite shaken. 

“I don't know how to apologize to you.” I said. “After all what you did for us.” 

“Leave it, Guntram. Regrets won't help you now. At least you know where you stand now.” 

“Yes, sir you are right.” 

“Come to us in the morning. My wife can look after the child while we speak. I'll send a car at ten.” Just like that he hung up on me. 

I was able to put Kurt in bed and began to look at the documents once he was asleep. 

They were about the Lintorff Foundation true bookings and it twisted my stomach to see what an idiot I've always been. True, some poor guys got money out of us but in a gross calculation, it was less than 27% of all of the income. 

The whole thing was a monstrous launderette for illegal money. Yes, there's no other way of describing it. 

Here was the idiot of Guntram believing that all the money was for Caritas, unless they include semi-automatic weapons in the relief boxes now. 

There was a 64GB memory card full of data of black payments to half (or more) of Europe, America and some Asian politicians. Some of the things were known to me, others must have been compiled by my father. 

I didn't have the courage to open the other four 32GB memory sticks included. 

If my father had all this, I'm sure they did him. Probably Konrad was blaming him for his run over with the Feds too and was waiting for him to make a mistake like forging an alliance with Enrico and the others. Konrad would have never let this material run free and Elisabetta, who's nobody's fool, must have realized that Michel was doing something more than helping our donors with their tax-declarations. 

This thing in the hands of the right people would have finished the Order once and for all. 

But Konrad was already “tried” in a courtroom and he came out quite clean despite the tons of shit the Feds had. Nothing like having the judge as your defendant. 

All the shit that wasn't admitted in court, of course. Shit that Michel's team destroyed and our own judge carefully buried ten feet under. Nothing like being school-time old pals! Up to the American D.A. screwed it up several times. Could the American government find somebody more stupid than this dodo? No, this one was getting all the credit all by himself. 

Who in his right mind sends a thirty-something ambitious lawyer to do the job of a well seasoned dinosaur? Someone who has to “do something” but doesn't really want to do it. 

That's why Michel wasn't concerned at all about the allegations. He knew all the time it was a charade and used it in his favor. He got free access to all the shit Adolf zu Löwenstein was guarding, copied it and probably used me to conspire with Enrico. 

My father knew he was bound to fail. He wasn't stupid. He left everything ready for me to escape and finish what he had started. As I see it now, he even left several roads for me to take; Enrico and his crusaders to make it in a violent way or tons of evidence to bury the Order in an elegant and civilized way. 

He sacrificed himself to make me see it. 

I've known for a long time that the Order is a piece of shit that deserves to be destroyed up to the last brick but the ones who will replace us are far worse than Konrad. 

All that without counting the difficult security threats we face from the Middle-East. I've seen what they're smuggling into our lands and I can't decimate the people who will have to fight against them. We are at the brink of war and this time, armies will be useless. States don't do well in the middle of a civil war. We need each one of Enrico's men for the upcoming fight. They have more connections and coming to think, their organizations were born to keep invading nation-states away from their own civilians.  

I watched Kurt sleep and made up my mind. I know I won't last long. I need a heart transplant but I really don't want to do it. Even if someone would die and be compatible with a B-blood type like mine, there's something in the whole thing I don't like at all. I know I have to go on for my children's sake but something inside me tells me it's wrong to do it. I know I won't look for it but if it comes, I will not reject it. 

As things are now, it will be very hard for me to reach my forties. I  married Konrad to have every assurance that my Kurt wouldn't be split from his brothers or be denied of a family life like I was. He will need a father in the future but I don't want him living in this hell hole. He will only be an asset to the Order for the rest of his life, just as Konrad is. 

I can't ruin his life but I won't leave him behind like my father did. 

I have to go away. Away from the Order and I have to be very careful about what I do if I don't want to get a bullet in my head. 

Like before, I could speak up but that's not an option. All our “management” was imprisoned and look where they are now; cracking jokes about their “paid holidays” and killing everyone who stood against them. 

I dialed Fedérico's number by heart. 

“I need a big favor from you,” I said before he could even say “hello”. “And that you keep John out of this.” 

“Wow. You really know how to get a guy's interest, pumpkin.”

“Where are you now? USA?” 

“No, we're shagging the casino tables in Montecarlo. San Francisco was boring. John's having a lousy night with that Black Jack bitch.” 

I sighed in utter relief to learn that he was in Europe. “I'm in Geneva and I need to see you, only you. Not John. Can you shake him off?” 

“Finally saw the light and realized that good old Fefo is the best option for you, pumpkin?” 

“What? No, don't make jokes now.” 

“That sounds serious. Where are you? Is your terminal secure? 

“Yes, it is. I'm in the hotel at the street of the guy who gave you so much trouble in school. Look for the cross.” I said and he chuckled. Yes, he got it quickly. 

“I'll drive tonight then. Are you alone?” 

“No.” 

“Ok.” 

“Please, don't get John involved into this. We might need to consult with some of your old friends.” I said. “This is nothing for him or you to get involved, so no questions. Can you do this for me?” 

“I'm nothing else than a careless, free-shagger, Guti. You know that, don't you? Whatever your hubby has being doing, I'm out and I don't care. I'm already out and happy to skip Church every morning. Don't worry about me. I'll see you tomorrow first thing and see what we can do about your problems.” 

It makes me feel bad to drag him into this. Fefo unofficially left the Order when I got sick. He was cast away when he took his holidays with John and all the Serbs quickly forgot about him. They had nothing against him and he's a professional. He would never speak about anything. 

I'm heading to bed now, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep at all. 

* * * 

June 11^th, 2014 

Zurich 

To dodge a troupe of nervous mothers was a nerve-racking torture for Stefan Abramovic. The ladies just ran over him each time they saw their offsprings crossing the school entrance. Being tall didn't help at all, as the women were faster, stronger and could form quite homogeneous hunting packs if the need arose. Forget about a push or two; Stefan was sure the mothers would tear him to pieces if he tried anything. 

“Where's your little brother?” Stefan asked dismayed when he saw the twins walking through the large entrance hall. “Did you forget him?” 

“He's gone,” Klaus shrugged. “Lucky bastard.” 

“You swore! I'm telling Papa!” Karl howled in the corridor and several mothers turned their heads towards the blond child. 

“Shut up, you...” Klaus pushed his brother quite violently and Stefan kept a straight face, thinking how much he hated his job, while he held the fighting boy by the backpack.  

'That's Milan's revenge. Being the Keeper of the Dwarfs till the end of the school year.' “Where's Kurt?” he asked again while the boys glared at each other. 

“He's gone,” Klaus huffed, impatiently tapping the floor with his foot. “Papa took him away and left us here. We had to stay the whole day.” 

“That's so unfair,” Karl pouted. “He's always getting away with  everything.” 

“I wasn't informed.” Stefan's internal alarms flared to life as he brutally took the boys by their backpacks, as if they were simple handles, to march them back to the car. 

Efficiently dodging mothers, children and double parked cars, Stefan got to the large Audi Q7 and opened the back door, letting the boys jump inside as he still held the backpacks by the handles. 

“You're still missing one,” Marko opened his car window. 

“The father took him away.” Marko turned around the car and took the passenger seat. 

“The Duke? He's in London today.” 

“The other father,” Stefan smirked.

“We weren't notified.” Marko frowned and turned around to face the twins. “Did the Vicomte take your little brother away?” 

“To the doctor said Anna. Right before lunch.” Karl shrugged while he switched on his mobile phone. “We could have go too.” 

“And get a vaccine? You're nuts.” Klaus rose his eyes to the leather paneled ceiling.

“Better than maths.” The boys began to argue over the school while both men looked at each other. 

“First we drop the package,” Marko said in Serbian as he drove away. 

* * * 

June 12^th, 2015 

Geneva 

A single knock on the door was all what Guntram needed to spring from the chair, leaving his breakfast behind while Kurt watched his father with big wide open eyes. 

Guntram embraced his visitor and ordered Kurt to go to the bedroom to watch TV. “I'm missing school,” the boy whined but the way his father looked at him made him think otherwise than throwing a tantrum. 

“The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Guti.” Féderico chortled very amused. “The guy has a free day and cries for school, just like you.” 

“Not always,” Guntram mumbled and sat again at the table, carelessly piling up cups and dishes. 

“Don't you ever return to the waiting-tables industry. You're still as lousy as you were,” Fefo grimaced at the dangerous tall pile Guntram had made with the tableware. “Or to engineering for that matter.” 

“Your hubby is looking for you,” Fedérico commented with a shrug and checked if there was still some coffee left on the coffee pot. It was empty and he cringed and pouted. “I got a call from Milan but said nothing. Soon they will be looking for me because they know we're pals.” 

“What did he tell you?” 

“That you went missing with the child but I see you are both well. Lintorff is quite upset with you. Do you have your pills with you, Guntram?” 

“No. I totally forgot it.” 

“Domestic trouble?” Fefo asked. “I can get you any pills you need, off the counter, of course.” 

“Thank you,” Guntram gulped. “It's something bigger than that. I want out of the Order. Something happened and I need your expertise.” Guntram showed Fefo the false passports and papers. “Would you tell these are good?” 

Fefo took them and began to carefully inspect them. “Will they pass any control?” Guntram asked anxiously. 

“Guti, Syrian passports can pass controls,” Fefo smirked. “It's all in the eye of the beholder.” Fedérico returned the passports to his friend. “But these ones are good. Real materials and real stamps too. Viva Malta. I guess these are the infamous one million euro passport you can buy from the government itself. I can check that with a friend if that's what you want.” 

“Is your friend to be trusted?” 

“Usually,” Fefo shrugged. “Like everyone else in this profession.” 

“From where do you know him?” 

“From the service, Argentinian too. Good access to the French connards. A tip and he's happy to help you.” 

“Don't use that word. It's offensive.” 

“I mean it. But I think you need something more because you wouldn't have called me only for that. Care to explain what's going on? I don't want to blow up the brains of a Serb without knowing why.” 

“It's a long story and I'll try to tell it to you. I'm not even sure if it makes any sense at all.” Guntram poured himself a glass of water and began to tell the story of his life. 

Fedérico's usual sneer began to freeze as the story went on and change into a face of barely concealed horror and disgust at what he was hearing. He remained silent all the time as he processed the information and -out of habit- looked for holes or gaps in the telling. Finding none was what rose all his internal alarms, convincing him of the truth of the words. 

'All fits. In a twisted way,' thought Fefo once Guntram had finished his long speech. He rose from the chair and went directly to open the mini refrigerator and took all the liqueur miniature bottles he could find inside. 

Guntram grimaced as Fefo opened and poured whiskey, vodka, gin and Fanta in one large glass found in the bathroom, near the complimentary toothpaste. Fedérico downed it in one single go. 

“So, if I understood correctly, your godfather lawyer was really your father, the same guy who killed himself in 1989?” Fedérico asked slowly. 

“Yes, that is.” 

“And this same guy was killed the night of the Order's meeting because he had crucial information on the Order and started an upheaval against the Duke?” 

“You were there. Di Mattei and Gorgazali wanted me to stay and get rid of Konrad. You told me to go away and I should have listened to you.” 

“You should always pay attention to what good, old Fefo tells.” He sighed. “Go on. Tell me now what you were really doing in Bari.” 

“Giving an ancient object back.” Guntram said embarrassed. 

“What?” 

“It's embarrassing to say what it is,” Guntram trailed. “I mean, you're going to laugh.” 

“Do I look like I'm laughing right now? No, I don't.” Fefo replied dryly. “You're in the middle of real shit and you care about someone's opinion?” 

“The Holy Grail,” Guntram spit out the words and cast his eyes down. “Well, that's what they think the thing is but... It's not. I think it's not. I mean, it's been in my family for centuries and it was used to gain power within the Order.” 

“That's why some people say you're their rightful leader?” 

“Who says that?” 

“Never mind,” Fedérico mumbled. “Well, that explains why Enrico wants to see you. He's been trying to do it since you got sick.” 

“Do you know where he is?” Guntram asked in shock. “Konrad wants to kill him!” 

“The love goes in both ways, Guti. Let them be. Di Mattei is in Italy and as far as I know, he's still the Komtur boss of the place. For some reason I don't know, the Serbs keep distance. The same happens in Spain. Somebody told me the Georgians shot one of them. Nothing serious.” Fedérico told. “Do you have something else?” He pointed at his empty glass. “No, coca cola won't do.” 

“Getting you drunk won't do it too.” Guntram snapped. 

“Drunk? This is just the pre-party for me.” Fedérico protested. “Never mind,” he mumbled. “Do you want to speak with Enrico? I can arrange it and he has enough people to protect you.” 

“No. Let it be. I don't want to cause a carnage.” 

“Well, there's one on the way if you leave Lintorff. A bloodbath is unavoidable because you should have left that motherfucker the day you found out about your uncle Roger. We have to get you out of here and be glad that gay marriage isn't so legal in many places because otherwise, taking the child with you could be a huge problem for you.” 

“We adopted each other children. He's legally his father.” 

“Under the Swedish law which doesn't apply in Switzerland where the alleged crime will be committed, meaning you can take the kid with you. He could only force you to respect his ties with the child but if you move to Argentina, he couldn't force you to let him visit the child there. The step-child adoption regulation is still pending in Switzerland, so for this country, he's not the father. On the other hand, you don't need his authorization to get the child out of the country. No migration officer can stop you.”    

“I'm not concerned about a migration officer.” Guntram smirked. 

“This banker uncle of yours, is he to be trusted?” 

“I don't know. He's my mother's uncle. He and his wife liked her very much. He hates Konrad and I had to press him to help me with the fine.” 

“I'll go with you.” 

“No. I have to go alone. He won't shoot me. It's not his style and believe me, he won't rat me out to Konrad. I only need that you check if these papers are good. I don't want to use my real name to leave the continent. I don't want to leave any traces.”

“Do you even know where you want to go? Do you have enough money?” 

“I have some saved, but not much.”

“Tell me it's more than 10.000.” 

“It's more than five millions but everything is in Konrad's accounts. I have some family jewels at my uncle's bank. I could sell them.” Guntram took a look at his watch and frowned. “This shit must be worth over a hundred thousand. It's platinum.” 

“The Breguet? I could find you a buyer but pending on the hurry the price will drop considerably.” 

“I don't want to sell it.” Guntram said calmly. “Not for a shitty price anyway. I'm sorry, we have a car waiting for us downstairs.” 

“Fefo will do what he knows best.” Fedérico rose from the chair. “And will buy you a real bottle of something.” 

“Thank you,” Guntram smiled weakly, already sure of his friend’s help. 

“You're not going to fall apart now, will you?” Fedérico gave Guntram a hug and patted his back affectionately. “I was there when it happened the first time.” 

“Yet I was still able to lie to the principal about that bottle without cracking,” Guntram replied. “No, I can't fall apart now. Maybe later.” 

“Write me down your prescriptions and ask nothing later.” 

“Of course.” Guntram took a paper from the desk and scribbled several lines. “Last one only if you can't get the other two.” 

“You might start a new fashion. Getting high with heart drugs.” 

“They won't get you far.” Guntram opened the door. “I do hope all this doesn't give you trouble with John.” 

“He will kill me the moment he finds out that I was in a hotel room with you and didn't call him for a ménage à trois.” Fedérico winked and Guntram cracked a nervous smile. “Think about where you want to go. Maybe I can help you with that. John has several houses in America.”  

Guntram felt a hundred years older when he closed the door but at the same time, liberated from a dark, shaming secret that had been tied around his neck for a very long time. 'He didn't judge me at all.'