TS 3 Chapter 21

 Chapter 21

Guntram de Lisle's diary 

February 3^rd, 2016

Still no news about Altair. I wrote to him twice and then I stopped. It makes no sense because after a week I got no answers. I phoned Gulya but she knows nothing about him and “her gang” didn't hear anything about Altair's “gang” in London. She has seen nobody from his entourage in the party circuit or at Chiltern Firehouse. 

Goran is lying to me when he says he has found nothing. I don't believe it. How can you miss a man who makes deals for millions? Altair is well known in London but nobody has seen him since that night. 

There's somebody else sitting at his office in that foundation he manages. 

I fear the worst. 

No, I already know deep inside me it’s the worst but I still want confirmation. 

Obviously, the Order will do nothing about it or help me in any way. The only thing I got out of them was more work. I finally exploded at Konrad and told him to clean after his own shit because I had to paint and moved back to my downtown flat. I'd rather drive everyday here than to live near Konrad. 

I guess they were happy to get rid of me after I “fixed” the Italian and Spanish problem. They can even look “innocent” in front of their long time “buddy” Albert because it was I who sent him home along with his litter. 

* * * 

February 20^th, 2016

Zurich

Feeding the blue lobster was something the boys loved to do. Like a clockwork, every two days, Tweezy was fed with fish, squid or octopus, holding the pieces of meat with a large tweezer next to the animal. Even Konrad liked to occasionally watch on weekends how the fishes had lunch.  

Guntram on the other side, hated to see the fishes jump on the food with so much aggressiveness and preferred to enjoy them when they were just circling around the wall size sea water aquarium. He suspected that Konrad had ordered more fishes and had the decoration changed to real live corals in his absence because there were species he didn't remember like a puffer fish or a small stingray. 

“One of these days, we'll get an octopus.” Konrad had even promised the boys. “The problem here is the lobster because it may harm the octopus or vice versa.” 

Guntram had seriously pondered bribing the marine biologist who came once a week so he would convince Konrad that they had enough fishes. But all the boys, especially Kurt and Kostya loved the aquarium and spent time looking at them, perhaps remembering their time in New Zealand, so Guntram had been forced to accept it. 

Saturdays in the early afternoon were a peaceful time for the family as the boys had had lunch, homework was finished and the older boys were getting ready to go out with their schoolmates while the smaller ones would do something with their parents. Guntram and Konrad had a gentlemen's agreement that they would swallow their own personal annoyances and go together to whichever activity was chosen for Kurt and Kostya. The boys had had enough trouble with being moved overnight from their homes to be subjected to an internal custody war. 

The agreement had been settled with no little blood between Konrad and Guntram but after many dialectical skirmishes, Guntram had agreed to live in the castle grounds for security reasons after Konrad threatened with denying him letting the boys be on the flat. On alternate weekends each one of the men would choose what to do. It was a tense peace but despite the animosity between them, the pact was working and tensions had eased and Konrad and Guntram were on “distant friends” speaking terms. 

Contrary to Guntram's initial beliefs, his former husband had truly put all his efforts on finding out what had happened with Altair. Konrad had used all his contacts but there was no way to obtain a casualty list as the Saudi authorities had closed themselves down like a clam. The odd silence made Guntram believe that the worst had happened and that Altair, in the most optimistic scenario, had been kidnapped by ISIS. The few staff members that were spared had said that the Jihadis shot dead most of the guests. 

Guntram only awaited for confirmation of what his heart knew. Altair was gone and the pain was like a thorn inside him. He did his best to hide his sorrow and perhaps that had moved Konrad to help him or tell him to spend some time painting instead of working at the bank. 

Waking up early in the morning to spend the day with the boys, even if that meant he had to feed that thing, worked as a balm for Guntram frayed nerves. 

“One of these days, we'll get an octopus for the children.” Konrad said for the tenth time while Kurt, standing on a stair, fed the puffer fish with an extensible iron arm. 

“Not if the lobster has anything to say about it.” Guntram replied mechanically while he held Kostya against his chest to prevent the little one from climbing unto his brother's ladder and make him fall head on into the tank. 

“They'll get used to each other.” Konrad shrugged. “An octopus would be nice to have. They're very clever and can open things.” 

“Why do you want an octopus?” Guntram smiled at the absurdity of the idea. “It's not that you can hug it or take it to bed.” 

A soft knock interrupted Konrad's answer and Dieter approached him to whisper a few words in his ear. “I'll be back in a minute,” Konrad said. “Guntram tell Birgitte to have the boys ready for the zoo.” 

A bit taken aback by the hasty way Konrad had left the playroom, Guntram waited for Kurt to finish feeding the animals and put everything back in its place before he took his sons back to their bedroom to have them changed into more informal clothes. He watched how the old woman dressed Kostya and fought with his unruly hair while the little boy bounced like a ball. 

Seeing that Konrad's meeting was taking longer than expected Guntram sat on the floor and began to build a house with the boys for the imaginary octopus. 

An hour later, Dieter came to the room and asked Guntram to join the Duke and Mr. Antonov at the library. More nervous than ever, Guntram went downstairs and walked the long corridor, following the butler and waited for the servant to open the door. 

“Hello, Guntram,” mumbled Alexei when he saw the young man. 

Guntram saw his friend, standing there, looking abashed and ashamed to be in his presence. He walked towards him and without saying a word he hugged the Russian. 

“No matter what, you're still my friend.” Guntram said calmly to the shocked Alexei. “Thank you for taking care of my sons.” 

“You're welcome,” Alexei whispered and fixed his eyes on the carpet. “Look, I didn't know you and he... I mean, I saw the chance and...” 

“You saved my life countless times, Alexei.” Guntram interrupted him. “You are one of my best friends ever. I'm not mad at you or blame you for anything.” Guntram took a deep breath in. “What was between Constantin and I is in the past.” Guntram saw Konrad standing in the middle of the library and smiled sadly before he went to sit in the sofa next to Konrad's. 

“You and Constantin had a long story between you. I'm nobody to judge you.” Guntram repeated and invited Alexei to sit in front of him. 

“I still owe you an apology.” Alexei said quietly. 

“You don't.” Guntram replied firmly. “I told Jean Jacques countless times to tell you to speak with me but you didn't. There's something I need to ask you.”

“It was quick,” Alexei mumbled miserably and gulped. 

“Would you be Kostya's godfather?” Guntram purportedly ignored the previous words. Speaking with Alexei was painful enough but he needed to move on and let Constantin finally go. 

“I... I...,” stuttered Alexei. “I'm not good with kids,” he mumbled appalled by the honor and lack of hatred from Guntram's part. 

“They survived their time with you,” Konrad intoned laconically. “Fair enough for me. You, on the other hand, Antonov, looked as if you had faced the Taliban army.”  

“It was worse.” Alexei said earnestly. “Really? Do you really want me to be your son's godfather? I'm orthodox.” 

“That's no problem for the Catholic Church.” Konrad said. “We might even convert you. For the protestants there's nothing we can do.” 

“Yes, I do.” Guntram said calmly and smiled encouragingly. “I won't ask you to look after them on weekends.” 

“That's a relief,” sighed Alexei. 

“But today we go to the zoo and you can join us,” Guntram joked but both men were completely serious. 

“Guntram,” Konrad was the first to break the silence. “I asked Antonov to use his skills to find any information about al Madani and he has come up with some very bad news. I'm sorry.” 

Guntram took a very deep breath in and his eyes brimmed with held tears as reality sunk in. Altair was dead even if the men didn't need to tell it. He gulped several times and Konrad brought him a glass of water from the cabinet he kept his cognac stash. Seeing that Guntram was still very impressed and couldn't utter a word, Konrad served him a Rémy Martin.

“How?” Guntram was able to say after he drank the cognac. 

“I don't know the details,” Alexei felt very uncomfortable to tell what he had learned. “I can only confirm that the sheik was among the casualties of an attack committed by a group of mercenaries posing as Jihadis on January 23^rd.” 

“Mercenaries?” Guntram asked in shock and his eyes immediately turned towards Konrad. 

“Not from us,” Konrad said dryly. 

“It has nothing to do with the Order.” Alexei stated quickly. “Nor the Russians. What happened wasn’t our job and it was hard to find it out.” 

“What happened?” 

“When I was hunt... I mean, looking for you because I was very concerned about your well being after all what had happened with your... father, I began to follow this man as I knew he was your... friend,” Alexei looked miserably at the Duke, but he kept a straight face and the Russian once more wanted the earth to swallow him whole. 

“I followed him to the Emirates and lived in Abu Dhabi for a while. I took some Arab lessons and… befriended one of his friends. He had many friends.” Alexei gulped and looked down, at the carpet, embarrassed. 

“Friend?” Guntram asked with an edge to his voice. “What kind of friend?” 

“A friend who's everybody's friend and nobody's friend at the same time,” Konrad said with a deep voice and Guntram frowned at him, unable to understand his words. 

“A public friend,” Alexei explained him. “The kind of friend you don't tell Jean Jacques I know,” he added guiltily. “There are many of that kind in the Emirates. Too much money around.” 

Guntram's back went stiff when he finally understood the words. “I see.” 

“It's hard to be gay there.” Alexei said. “There are many clubs and discreet friends and many, many have their own private friends as long as they aren't Muslim because if not... well, it's a problem for all those involved. Some Westerners are very popular.” 

“I understand,” Guntram said coldly. “You mean the twenty-thousand kind of friend.” 

“Minimum,” mumbled Alexei and Konrad glared at him. 

“There was this American, Brad, who was a very regular friend,” Alexei told embarrassed. “When the duke asked me to look for this man, I went to him and spoke with him. Brad was very shocked and knew through another royal Emirati, who happens to visit him too, that the sheik had been murdered near the city of Al Qurayyat during a hunt. It was the talk of the Saudi court but they had done their best to cover it up. It seems some thirty something mercenaries attacked their caravan at dawn when most of them were asleep. These people wore Daesh type uniforms and had very similar weapons with them. According to the survivors, they shouted fundamentalist Islamic slogans, spoke an accented Arab but looked like westerners. I mean, not Arab, Afghani or Pakistani. They executed the people with a single shot to their heads. It was quick and efficiently done. They didn't take hostages or robbed anything. They only rounded up the thirty-four royal family members and shot them dead. They didn't waste their time with the staff or the bodyguards.” 

“Oh, God,” mumbled Guntram and clutched the sofa's armrest. 

“It was quick,” Konrad said compassionately. “Focus on that. It wasn't done by any of those bloody beasts who would have slaughtered them like animals.” 

“I know,” whispered Guntram as he held his tears in check. “Who?” he croaked. 

Alexei sighed tiredly. 

“You said it wasn't us. Prove it.” Guntram said defiantly. 

“It wasn't us. It was... Repin.” 

“What?” Guntram shouted. “You killed Constantin!” 

“Once I learned how everything had been done, I had so many doubts about this being done by the Daesh that I started to speak with old contacts who knew people in the area. They came empty handed as the Saudis were yelling that it was the Daesh's work and that they would have their blood. The modus operandi wasn't theirs. Some Arabs were convinced that it had been done by a foreigners’ unit but they didn't know which one and couldn't start accusing people randomly.” 

Guntram looked at him disoriented. 

“The whole thing looked like an exemplary execution but by whom and for what?” Alexei asked to nobody. “We wouldn't have risked to kill all that many rich and important people. Those were princes being shot like dogs! It didn't make any sense. This must have been done by someone higher than us and for a while I thought that your friend had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time because he was nothing more than a businessman.” 

“We could have never afforded to do something like this, Guntram.” Konrad said quietly. “You know that,” he added and Guntram nodded in silence. 

“I thought that maybe the Iranians had done it but it's not their style and the modus operandi wasn't theirs at all. The “looking westerners” and the fluently spoken Arab with an accent made me think that perhaps the attackers were Bosnians or Chechens. Converts from Europe speak very bad Arab and follow the Sharia traditions to the letter. They would have beheaded everyone on sight, not just a few princes. It was a puzzle.” 

“So how do you know it was Constantin?” 

“Not Repin directly.” Alexei replied and took a sip of his own cognac glass. “Dima Klatschko did it and it wasn't easy to find it out. I stumbled upon the truth by chance to be honest. Somebody I know in Tashkent told me that Klatschko had taken over Repin's old operations and he's back with a vengeance. Rumour has it that Klatschko and his people killed the... person who gave away Repin. They knew that the sheik had spoken with the Americans regarding Repin's hiding place. I know for certain that Klatschko is convinced that the sheik killed Repin while you were in hospital.” 

“Dima thinks that Altair killed Constantin?” Guntram asked horrified. 

“We will leave it at that.” Konrad said firmly. “I don't want Antonov's life to be endangered any further. I'm putting him out of the field for the next  three or five years.” 

“How could Dima do this? He was just a bodyguard.” 

“Not really,” Konrad said. “Klatschko is quite close to Kadyrov. Same clan if I'm correct. With what he has done, Klatschko is back in power because Russia has finally delivered a real punch in the face of the Saudis. This is an exemplary punishment for many things between the two countries and we won't get in the middle.” Konrad marked the words very clearly. “I'm sorry for your loss, Guntram, but I'm telling you this as your Hochmeister. You will not seek any kind of revenge or information about this. You will not seek for Klatschko even if he contacts you.” 

“Why would he speak to me ever again?” 

“Klatschko really likes you.” Konrad replied dryly. “He sent you his greetings through Goran and tells you the bill is settled.” 

“What?” croaked Guntram. 

“We didn't fully understand the message at first but now it's more clear. We originally thought he meant you no harm for what had happened with Repin.” 

“Are we in speaking terms with them?” Guntram asked dismayed. “Who gave them the money to do this? The logistics for such an operation must be over five million dollars. This is a one of a kind job.”  

“Your children only inherited Repin's artworks and some fifty millions dollars each.” Konrad explained to Guntram dismissively. “Repin had much more than that if he left five millions to some parrots. I'm sure of that. Look for that money, Guntram. Probably it's in Klatschko's hands by now and that would explain why he's the new head of the Russian Mafia. We will soon have to sort out a compromise with him so we need you to be totally neutral. I don't want the Order's position being compromised because of your personal vendetta against him.” 

“He killed an innocent man! Many of them!”

“That's how Repin and his people do business.” Konrad said calmly. “The sheik had the misfortune of crossing paths with them.” 

“Altair didn't mean it. I warned him!” Guntram felt like crying but his eyes were dry. “You won't make any deals with him!” 

“Not at the moment but once his position is solid, we might speak with him.” Konrad held Guntram's anguished and pained look. “Whether we like it or not, this man's actions have restored the Russian national pride after being cowardly attacked not once but twice. So, he's our ally until differently proven. He did a service to his country.” 

“I'm afraid so,” Alexei said. “Klatschko is a rising star now and he has proven to all the others that he's the... nastiest motherfucker in town.” Alexei mumbled the last words, intimidated by the duke's presence. “I'd better get going,” he added when he saw Guntram looking so abashed. “I'm sorry to bring you such news, but you deserved to know the truth.” 

Guntram only nodded and fixed his eyes on the carpet. He heard Konrad walking Alexei towards the door and telling something to the butler but he didn't pay attention. Altair was certainly dead and maybe it was his own fault. 

'I should have never spoken again with him after I moved in with Constantin.'

“It wasn't your fault.” Konrad's voice made Guntram jump a bit, startled by the noise. Konrad had crouched in front of him and taken his hands between his. Guntram didn't pull them away, busy as he was to control his breathing before it would turn into sobs. 

“It isn't your fault,” Konrad repeated softly. 

“How is it not?” Guntram shouted and his body began to tremble. “I was there and didn't stop it!” Guntram launched himself against Konrad's neck and began to openly cry as his arms clutched his neck. 

“Guntram, you're imagining things,” Konrad put his arms around Guntram's waist and pulled him against his chest, forcing the young man to fall down to the floor along with him. 

Guntram's tears soaked Konrad's jacket but he said nothing, only hugging and occasionally petting Guntram's head in a futile effort to comfort him. “It isn't your fault,” he said many times but Guntram didn't hear him at all, so lost as he was in his guilt and desperation. 

Konrad didn't know what to do. To express his condolences for a man he hated would have sounded false at the least. To tell it was nothing would have caused a storm he didn't want to endure. That Arab had only caused him problems since the first day he had laid his eyes on Guntram but Konrad didn't feel happy because of his death. He would have preferred a clean cut in his dealings with Guntram. 

So Konrad kept himself quiet while he held Guntram in his arms and let him cry all what he wanted. The final sobbing he heard, was the signal he needed to dare to carefully break the locked embrace Guntram had over his body. Hesitantly, Konrad offered his handkerchief and Guntram took it. 

“Thank you,” Guntram mumbled embarrassed by his own meltdown in front of Konrad. “I'm sorry for this.” 

“Don't mention it. Are you better?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Guntram replied automatically and averted his red eyes from Konrad's intense stare. “All this must be very awkward for you. I'll go now.”

“No, stay.” Konrad caught Guntram by the hand and forced him to remain seated. “Don't go away. Stay with your family. What are you going to do alone in that flat?” 

“Konrad, I'm crying over the man I almost divorced you for.” Guntram said. “You must hate him.” 

“I respected him and he saved your life or found the way for you to recover.” Konrad replied, visibly nervous by the turn the conversation had taken. “I'm not happy about his death.” 

“I know,” Guntram whispered and sighed. “Anything else would be beneath you.” 

“Thank you.” Konrad was engulfed by a strange embarrassment and broke the contact he still had with Guntram's hands. He rose to his full height and began to pace around the library while Guntram looked at the window dejectedly. 

“Birgitte took the boys to the forest. I told her to. Maybe the new puppies are born,” Konrad didn't know what else to say to break the suffocating silence and became silent again. 

“You're right,” Guntram said. “Why don't you hate me for this?” 

“Because we're still friends.” Konrad answered earnestly. “I mean, despite everything I still consider you as my friend and the father of my boys. All of them.” 

Guntram looked at Konrad in the eyes but saw no deception or lies there. “I don't hate you either,” he said slowly and put the dirty handkerchief in his pocket. “We...” 

“It's in the past.” Konrad shook his head. “Let's look at the present and the future now. We're still partners,” he added testily and Guntram nodded. 

“What are we going to do now?” Guntram asked to the air. 

“What do you want to do? I don't think there's much to do about it.” 

“No, there isn't,” Guntram agreed sadly. 

“Did you know anyone from his family?” 

“No,” Guntram shook his head. “I won't be going to Abu Dhabi to visit his grave. What would I tell to his family?”  

“I see.” 

“I can't believe he's gone. Not in that way.” Guntram sobbed. “I was there when Dima said he was going to kill Altair. I began to feel sick there and I can't remember if I told him no or if I was trembling like a rabbit.” 

“Klatschko would have never taken an order from you.” Konrad said compassionately. “This man was in trouble the moment he set his eyes on someone who Repin thought was his.” 

“Constantin allowed me to write to him and be with him so we would argue. We were so different in many things.” Guntram sighed. “I still don't believe he tried to use me to spy on us. You can call me a fool all you want but I think he was a good man.” 

“Maybe he was, but we all play with fire in this game and we know it.” Konrad replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. “He knew what he was getting into the moment he set his eyes on you because he knew who you really were.” 

“Did he?”

“I'm convinced of that. He made a choice, just like I did when I fought over you with Repin. The same choice Repin made when he returned for you and Kurt.” 

“You certainly did fight for me, Konrad.” Guntram said in a rapt. “Thank you.” 

“You also fought for me like a lion.” Konrad replied softly. “We were quite a team,” he added with a longing sadness.  

“It's like you said,” Guntram rose from the chair and Konrad followed him with his eyes. “An annus horribilis. We lost everything we had. It was as if the Gods would have unleashed a storm over us. Maybe we were so happy that we spat on their faces.” 

“Gods like those are extinct,” Konrad said softly. “Even if they were alive, they would see that despite all their chicanery we are still friends and partners. They're not so strong as they tell mortals they are. I'd rather believe in a God who loves his children unconditionally and in the power of his forgiveness. He reigns over pettiness.” 

Guntram was moved by Konrad's words and he saw him under a new light. He didn't know what to say and an unknown shyness overtook him, drowning his own sorrow. He cast his eyes down and wetted his lips. Unconsciously.

“I'll stay with the children.” Konrad said softly, disturbed by the impact such a small gesture could still have upon him. “Take this time to recompose yourself.”

“Yes, I will.” Guntram's own raspy voice hurt his throat. “I'll see you at tea time.” 

“We can drive to the city in the evening. As compensation for the lost zoo. Kurt and Karl are staying for the night at their friend's house. Let's take the small ones to Sprüngli. They like it.” 

“Yes, let's do that.” Guntram answered with a broken voice. “I'll be better in a few hours.”