Chapter 5 - THE NAME ON THE SHIPPING MANIFEST
By morning, the warehouse had become an international problem.
Nepalese authorities sealed the property.
Humanitarian organizations demanded audits.
Our command ordered everyone to stop speaking to media.
Pike ordered me to sleep.
I ignored him until he threatened to sedate me.
That worked.
I slept two hours.
When I woke, Raphael was gone.
For one horrible second, I thought someone had taken him.
Then Mercer told me the truth.
“He left voluntarily.”
I sat up.
“What?”
“He returned to his secure compound.”
“He cannot travel.”
“He did.”
“Why did you let him?”
Mercer stared at me.
“Because, Major Ward, contrary to popular belief, I am not in charge of international crime bosses.”
I pulled on my boots.
“Where is the compound?”
“No.”
“Cole.”
“No.”
“I need to ask him about Luca.”
“Then use a phone like a normal person.”
Raphael answered on the first ring.
“You're awake.”
“How do you know I was asleep?”
“Pike threatened me if I called.”
I blinked.
“Aaron threatened you?”
“He is creative.”
I almost smiled.
“Who is Luca Orsini?”
Silence.
Then:
“Come to the east security gate.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“I'll tell you in person.”
“Why not now?”
“Because your government is recording most transmissions.”
I looked toward Mercer.
He shrugged.
“Probably.”
Thirty minutes later, Raphael’s SUV waited outside the secured zone.
Mercer came with me.
Raphael objected.
I ignored him.
His temporary compound occupied a partially damaged luxury lodge above the valley.
Armed guards surrounded it.
Inside, Raphael sat at a long wooden table.
He looked worse.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Still somehow intimidating.
I placed my hands on the table.
“Luca.”
Raphael leaned back carefully.
“We grew up together.”
“That is not an answer.”
“He is the son of my father’s closest friend.”
“Better.”
“He has worked beside me for fifteen years.”
“Doing what?”
“Logistics.”
“Legal?”
Raphael met my eyes.
“Not always.”
Mercer shifted beside me.
I held Raphael’s gaze.
“Explain.”
“My father built Veseri Freight as a legitimate company.”
“But?”
“He also used routes to move illegal cargo.”
“What cargo?”
“Cash. Contraband. Weapons.”
“People?”
Raphael’s answer came immediately.
“Never.”
I believed that he believed it.
But belief wasn't proof.
“When you took over?”
“I ended certain operations.”
“Certain?”
His jaw tightened.
“You want confession or context?”
“Both.”
He looked at Mercer.
Mercer said:
“Pretend I'm furniture.”
Raphael ignored him.
“My father died eight years ago. I inherited legal companies and illegal obligations.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means men do not retire because a son decides to become respectable.”
“So you're still Mafia.”
He gave a humorless smile.
“You say that like it's a job title.”
“Isn't it?”
“No.”
“What would you call it?”
“A trap with expensive suits.”
That answer stayed with me.
He continued.
“I consolidated control. Shut down narcotics routes. Prohibited trafficking. Separated most freight operations from criminal revenue.”
“Most.”
“Yes.”
“Why not all?”
“Because men who depended on those systems did not disappear.”
“Luca?”
“I trusted him to transition the Asian routes.”
“And now medicine disappears.”
“And girls.”
Mercer spoke.
“Convenient story.”
Raphael looked at him.
“It is.”
“You expect us to believe you didn't know?”
“No.”
Raphael’s calm irritated me.
“Then what do you expect?”
“I expect evidence to determine what you believe.”
He slid a folder toward me.
Shipping records.
Route authorizations.
Customs logs.
My eyes moved down the page.
Then stopped.
Authorized by: L. Orsini.
Another.
Same initials.
Another.
Same.
Raphael said:
“Every diverted convoy touched Luca’s office.”
Mercer examined the signatures.
“Could be forged.”
“Yes.”
“You still have no idea where the girls went.”
“No.”
Raphael’s eyes hardened.
“But we have one lead.”
He turned a page.
A destination code.
K-17.
I frowned.
“What is that?”
“A private airstrip.”
“Where?”
“South of Kathmandu.”
Mercer immediately stood.
“We need to notify authorities.”
Raphael’s hand came down over the document.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“If Luca knows law enforcement is coming, the girls vanish.”
“So your solution is what? Send your men?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Tessa—”
“No.”
His expression darkened.
“They could be moved within hours.”
“And your armed men storming an airstrip could get them killed.”
“Waiting could get them sold.”
The word hit me like a slap.
We stared at each other.
Neither wanted to yield.
Then Mercer said:
“There is a third option.”
We both looked at him.
“Joint operation. Nepalese tactical unit. Our intel liaison. Veseri provides access codes and manifests.”
Raphael considered.
“Too many people.”
Mercer shrugged.
“You can stay home.”
Raphael looked offended.
I almost laughed.
Then my phone buzzed.
Pike.
I answered.
“Tessa, get back here.”
“What happened?”
“Anil woke up.”
“That’s good.”
“No.”
Pike’s voice lowered.
“He remembered a name.”
My skin prickled.
“What name?”
“Not Luca.”
I looked at Raphael.
“What name?”
Pike hesitated.
“Raphael Veseri.”
The room went silent.
Raphael heard.
His face did not change.
Pike continued.
“Anil says the men loading the third truck kept saying the girls were being moved on Veseri’s direct order.”
I stared at the man across from me.
Yesterday I had crawled beneath concrete to save him.
Today I had defended the possibility that he was being used.
Now the only eyewitness was saying the opposite.
Raphael slowly stood.
Pain crossed his face.
He ignored it.
“Tessa.”
I stepped back.
For the first time since meeting him, I did not want him closer.
“Don’t.”
His eyes sharpened.
“You believe him.”
“I believe I need to hear him.”
“And me?”
“I don't know what I believe about you.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
And I hated that I noticed.
Mercer opened the door.
“Let’s go.”
As I walked out, Raphael spoke behind me.
“Someone used my name.”
I turned.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because if I wanted six girls moved through my own company—”
May you like
His voice became colder than I had ever heard it.
“—no one on that truck would need to say my name.”
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