Black Bear Rising: A BWWM Paranormal Romance (Black Bear Saga Book 1) (29 page)

“A rifle with a scope, a knife and a new phone,” he said.

“Should be no problem. Will you be travelling back alone?” Jonsi asked rubbing the stubbled and loose skin under his chin.

Brad didn’t answer him and stared at the sun glinting off the building.

“You misunderstand my friend, I’m not trying to pry. Your business is yours alone. I ask because I have ways off this island if you need to do so under the radar. I have access to an offshore airstrip that can get you to Greenland if you need to leave here by the back door,” he said.

Brad had seen this before with other low level stooges he had dealt with. They were so eager to please in the hopes of getting a sniff of the pot that they would play all their cards immediately and promise him anything he needed. Look I am a powerful man in my own world helping out a friend in need was what they thought they were portraying to Brad. The reality was he could sniff out a low level wannabe from a mile off. This Jonsi guy might be able to get him a weapon and find the girls, but outside that he was nothing but the de facto king of a backwater country that held very little interest to Brads employers.

“I travel alone to the job and after it has nothing to do with you. After you get me my supplies it will be the last time I see you my friend,” Brad said.

“I can have the rifle to you by tonight. Where you staying?” he asked and Brad gave him a piece of paper with the hotels name written on it. “I’ll be there by midnight my friend. A little bit of advice for you, relax a little. As we say here in Iceland thetta reddast, it will be all right my uptight American friend,” he said leaving the car.

The stale smell of friend onions and processed meat hung in the car. Brad rolled down the window and the stench slowly dissipated. He was glad Jonsi was gone. There was something about him that didn't sit right with Brad, was it the near constant smile that kept threatening to bloom and expose his broken teeth as if he was in on a joke that Brad knew nothing about he wondered. There’s something about living on the underbelly of society that makes you alert to anything shiny that catches your attention, like a magpie lining its nest with bits of broken bottles and twisted metal strips of soda cans. Brad must look like the shiniest prize to have fallen into Jonsi’s lap in a long time and he could feel a shakedown rearing its head. Jonsi was going to make himself invaluable to Brad somehow in the hopes of a taste of the pot. If Jonsi proved how indispensable he was to Brad while he completed his task, maybe Brad would let his overlords know about Jonsi and some sugar would float his way. Brad knew that if Jonsi got in his way or tried to hamper him that he wouldn't hesitate to take him down and the powers that be back home wouldn't even register it. Jonsi was a bird standing on the back on an elephant, helpful for removing parasites only because the big grey lumbering beast allows it.

Brad paced back and forth in his hotel room checking his watch every few minutes. It was already ten minutes past midnight. He pulled back the curtains and looked out across the mirror surface of the bay to a snow capped mountain in the distance. Mount Esja was its name and his hotel was named after it because of its unobstructed view across to it. When checking in the smiling and overly tanned receptionist had handed him a leaflet for the daily bus from the hotel to the mountains base. It’s then an easy hike to the top where you will have a beautiful view across to Reykjavik City and its out lying area she said in a robotic tone. Brad glanced at the leaflet in his hand and nodded tersely at her and she smiled an automatic smile containing no warmth. Me and you both Brad thought to himself, going through the motions. Looking out at the range of mountains Brad imagined jumping in his rental car and just driving away from the grim task ahead of him.

The sky was still as bright as day with the sun skimming across the peak of Mount Esja. Birds sang and apart from the lack of traffic on the road it felt like it could be the middle of the day.

His face was reflected back at him in the glass and he looked at it barely recognising himself. Brad looked drawn and haggard with a few days of stubble, under his eyes were heavy black rings. I can’t do this much longer he thought taking out his notebook and running his finger over its well worn pages. Six months, maybe a year at most he would be out from under his debts and he could turn away from the maw before he was completely swallowed. Someone knocked on his door and he approached it silently. Through the peephole he could see Jonsi standing there holding a bag, distorted through the lens he seemed more scarecrow than man.

As soon as Brad opened the door and let him into the room he started talking, “My friend you look rough. Do you want me to sort you out with a pick me up? Maybe some girls to help you relax. I have Polish,Latvians, Africans if you like the darker meat, boys if thats your thing. I don't judge,” he said with another of his watery eyed winks.

“I only need what I ordered from you today,” he said pouring himself a glass of coke. “How does anyone sleep around here when the sun never sets?” Brad asked.

“We Icelanders don't sleep during the summer. This is when we recharge for the long and dark winters ahead. Who would want to sleep and miss all this,” he said motioning to the clear sky outside of the window.

“What have you found out?” Brad asked.

“Good news my friend. I know exactly where they are. They didn't hang around Reykjavik when they arrived, they got on a bus and headed south along the coast. They are holed up in a small rural town,” Jonsi replied.

“How fresh is this intel and how sure is your source?” Brad said.

“All I know is they arrived a few days ago by bus. Chances are they will still be there, it’s the only town of note anywhere in that part of the country. Inland is nothing but wasteland, so they will have stayed somewhere along the coast. Even if they have left Vik they have only one way to go and thats to continue on the main road that circles the country. Everything else you asked for is in the bag. I’ve included maps with all the major towns along the ring road. Vik is a small place, maybe two hundred people. Someone will have seen them. Not too many black people in Iceland my friend, that one will be easy to trace.”

Brad unzipped the bag and checked the contents.

“Forty eight rounds and the rifle is untraceable. Hunting knife and a new phone. It’s a new model and has everything, built in GPS, camera, internet, everything a tourist to our fine country would need.” Jonsi said.

Brad took the knife out of its leather sheath and felt its heft in his hand.

“My cousin makes them. The handle is made from reindeer antler. It’s perfectly balanced,”

“How much for the lot?” Brad asked.

As per the tradition of these arrangements Jonsi quoted a slightly higher price then he actually expected to pocket. Brad stated a lower price he was comfortable with and they fell somewhere in between.

“You want it in dollars?” Brad asked.

“Nothing but. The krona is a piece of shit ever since the great crash of a few years ago, it’s barely worth it to use as kindling. I pray at the church of the almighty dollar my friend,” Jonsi said.

Brad peeled off the notes from the wad of dollars he kept in a concealed pocket inside his jacket.

“Whats’ the police presence like in these small towns?” Brad asked.

“Low to close to nothing. You have one or two cops patrolling over an area a couple of hundred kilometres wide. At this time of year the cops usually patrol the heavily trafficked tourist areas to cut down on pickpockets and petty crime. You could be in and out of Vik before any cop in that area is even aware of your presence. If you do have a run in with any of the fuckers give me a call and we can work something out,” Jonsi said. He walked over to the window and stared across at Mount Esja. “Great view you have here.”

Brad didn’t have time to hang out with some low level thug interested in furthering his career. He wanted to be done with this grease stain stinking up his room and hopefully never have to deal with the odious man again. “I’ll call you if I need anything else,” he said making it clear social time was over.

“Hell of a view,” Jonsi said not moving from in front of the window. “I have some opportunities your people might be interested in.”

Brad doubted it. “I’ll pass it up along the chain. Someone will be in contact with you,” Brad lied.

Jonsi went on, fuck Brad thought to himself this guy wants to boast about how big of a fish he is in a small pond and sees me as his way up the ladder. “I have some cargo passing through here real soon. The type of thing that might be of extreme interest to your people,” He said flashing his broken teeth in a smile.

“I have your number. I’ll talk to you when this is all over,” Brad said.

“This is a very large opportunity, don’t wait too long to call me,” Jonsi said.

This guy is really laying it on thick Brad thought to himself. “I’m sure it is. As I said I’ll pass it up the chain.”

Jonsi threw his hands up in the air and said, “Right my American friend, I get it. Hang out time is over. Happy hunting.”

Once Jonsi had left the room Brad laid the map out on the bed and checked over the notes that were attached to it. Jonsi had provided a list of town names starting with Vik and then continuing on around the circular road that ringed the country. If they had left Vik he had a list of ten or so places that they could be holed up in. Apart from Vik every town on the list had a name that Brad wouldn't have even attempted to pronounce. Before going to bed he checked the rifle and its action and it was smooth and in perfect working order. I’ve a long drive ahead of me tomorrow he thought to himself as he got into bed. He tried not to think what was ahead of him, he could already feel the first tentative fingers of pain run skittering across his brain. If he allowed himself to think about the girls and what he had to do he would never sleep. He tried to block out all thoughts and pictured the snow capped Mount Esja across from the hotel, towering over the bay in silent judgement.

For several hours he stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. Light seeped in underneath the heavy curtains from the unsetting sun. He tossed and turned and sleep eluded him. He got out of bed and found the knife and unsheathed it and placed it on his bedside table. He got back into bed and lay on his side staring at the patterns in the bone handle. Eventually he drifted off to a fitful sleep filled with the screams of women coming up from beneath the soles of his shoes.

His alarm rang and it pulled him from the thin mist of sleep he had been bobbing along through. His head felt stuffed with broken glass as he rose. He dry swallowed three of his pills and waited for the softening haze of the meds to kick in. Time to focus he told himself as he prepared himself for the day ahead.

Lana slowly opened her eyes in the hospital room enjoying the tingle of heat on her skin as a beam of early morning sun bisected her room. The window was open and she could her the call and response of the birds as they swooped and wheeled through the air scooping beak fulls of flying insects as they rose from the warming earth. This was now her fourth morning in the clinic and she hoped to be getting out sometime in the next few hours. It would be another few days before she would be allowed to take the bandages off her eyes the nurse had told her yesterday evening. The last few days had seemed to whizz by and as each day passed her excitement for the sun to rise and Einar to come visit her would increase. He had come every day and spent several hours with her and the two of them just spoke to each other, no distraction from other people, no incessant call of social media to check in and view someone else's fabricated life unfold. Most of all it made her forget even if only for a few hours a day, the fear of her past catching up with her.
 

While she was with Einar she felt safe as if nothing bad could ever happen to her in his company. He listened to her so intently when she spoke that she had found that some of her more embarrassing or shameful stories came spilling out. He seemed to pass no judgement and shared some of his own stories with her. He was so easy going and open to her and as the days rolled on she longed to take off her bandages and look upon his face as they talked. To see the crinkles in the corner of his mouth when he smiled at one of her amusing stories, to see him nodding along and empathising with her when she spoke of hardships, to connect with him when she looked into his eyes. When he left her in the evenings she felt a severe sense of dislocation from her situation and and the room she was in. When he was their she felt linked to the real world and the world of Iceland that Einar was slowly opening up to her through his stories of rural life.
 

Only a handful of days ago she had not known Einar and now after four days of talking to him she couldn’t imagine not getting to know him more. He had been so abrupt and cold to her after they kissed last night that she was still reeling from it. Was it such a big mistake for him that he had to rush away from her as if she was bad news. A tiny panicked flutter filled her stomach at the thought of not ever seeing him again once she was out of the hospital. She raised one of her arms up in the air until she could feel the ray of sun shining across it, as her arms tingled with the warmth she held in her mind the image of Einar and for the first time thought to herself, Am I falling…

Her thought was cut off when something moved in the corner of the room. A chair leg scraped against the floor and she heard the rustle of cloth as someone stood.

“Who’s there,” she said, her voice coming out more high pitched and scared sounding then she expected. “Is that you Einar,” she said trying to keep the rising panic from tipping over and dragging her down. She waved her hands back and forth while leaning forward in her bed. The sides of her chest screamed in bruised protest at this sudden movement. “Stop playing whoever it is,” she begged as her voice began to crack. Her heart beat like a frightened animal in her chest and a cold sweat drenched her body. “Please stop you’re frightening me. I’ll scream if you don't answer,” she said, the last words coming out in a reedy croak betraying her. She couldn’t scream if she wanted to as it felt like her throat began to constrict tightly. Fear flooded her body with an acrid wash. She was a woman in a deep dark cave and a monster was observing her from the shadows. A shoe squeaked on the floor as the apparition approached the bed.