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Previously: Resaca y confesión de amor
Ricardo was still officially considered dead... yet he remained under the protection of an unofficial unit. During the past few weeks he’d been staying with Gustavo, he hadn’t been idle... he’d been investigating the facts that had come to light. With the help of an AI, he’d learned how to obtain information that wasn’t publicly available. Well, he had been capable of such things even without technical assistance... that was precisely why he had become a successful lawyer, because he could read between the lines... because he knew how to gather information. But he had neither the right equipment nor old informants, and certainly not the gadgets he needed to continue his search as usual, so he had to improvise. Eventually, he came to the realization that the witness protection program and his staged death had not been put in place for his safety. They merely wanted to take him out of the picture... they wanted him to stop investigating... to stop meddling. His arch-enemy was at large... all his work had been undone, and he was able to live largely in peace... because that way he couldn’t do any harm. Eventually, however... they found out where he was currently staying and that he wasn’t lying low in his own home in France as agreed.
The day seemed almost too quiet. Gustavo’s house lay open to the light, completely unremarkable, even though it stood in a secluded spot. The area around the house looked well-kept, but not overly so... many houses here looked that way, and people mostly used them only for extended vacations. Ricardo sat on the terrace as he did every morning, reading the French newspaper while Gustavo had already left the house to go to work. A white delivery van rolled slowly down the street and stopped a short distance away, not directly in front of the property. The engine remained running. Shortly afterward, a second, unmarked vehicle parked on the opposite side of the street, neatly tucked in among other cars without drawing attention. The man from the delivery van got out, a clipboard in his hand. He paused briefly by the fence, as if he needed to check the address, but his gaze wandered further, scanning the windows, looking for movement. At the same time, the other man stepped out of the car, lit a cigarette, and stood on the sidewalk, seemingly casually. His gaze swept the surroundings.
Only then did the man with the clipboard walk to the door and ring the bell. Normally, food or goods the men had ordered weren’t delivered until the afternoon, so Ricardo was immediately alarmed when he heard the ringing. If Gustavo had called someone to fix something... then he would know about it. He quickly grabbed his cell phone, wanting to play it safe.
Gus? Did you call a repairman? Anything I don’t know about? -R
By the time he’d sent the message, the two men had already found a way onto the terrace. Ricardo slowly stood up, placed the newspaper on the table, and tried to stay calm, not to let on. The man with the clipboard briefly sized him up.
“Ricardo Pascual. You have violated the terms of the protection program: unauthorized change of location. Making contact outside the designated framework. Independent investigations. Your current location is unauthorized. You will come with us. Immediate transfer to another country, a new location. This time with no leeway, Pascual.”
Ricardo took a deep breath and tried to calm the two men down, he raised his hands, but clearly spotted firearms on their clothing.
“If you intend to remove me from the country against my will, without a court order, without an official directive, and without granting me access to legal counsel, then you are not only operating outside any legal basis but also making yourselves vulnerable.”
He knew this wouldn’t get him anywhere with these guys, but he couldn’t help himself.. the words poured out of him.
“Rights?”
the first one repeated, almost casually.
“You’re joking. A man who is officially dead has no rights, no record, no authority that could protect you. The only thing you have is the protection granted to you.”
The second man leaned slightly against the doorframe, arms crossed, still wearing that subtle smirk.
“So save yourself the argument, lawyer.”
Ricardo nodded… he pretended to understand, he pretended to accept this information, took a slow step forward, and feigned a somewhat unsteady gait… almost as if he were a little frail.
“All right… I know… that all of this was created for my protection. I’ll pack my things… then we can go.”
Luck seemed to be on his side, because the guys, who appeared to be quite well-trained, still fell for it, nodded at him, and let him enter the house alone. Stunned, he rubbed his head.
“And from something like this… I’m supposed to be protected?”
he muttered to himself.
Gus… they’re here… they want to take me to another country, I’m trying to run away… our jogging route, the one that’s not accessible by bike. I’m doing my best… I can’t guarantee anything. STAY AWAY FROM THE HOUSE.
He wrote that as he did exactly that: he left Gustavo’s house through the basement… squeezed through a small window, and finally took off running. In that moment, he was grateful that he had forced himself to rebuild his stamina over the past few weeks. That was the moment when, for the first time, he no longer saw his friend’s joke, that he would ruin his life, as just a joke.