Trouble?“What kind of trouble?”
“Boss give me signal. We may have problem. Stand by.”
“Aye, sir.”
Once he was off the radio, he looked back to his young family on the screen.
Deirdre said, “What’s ’appenin’?”
Coyle hadn’t a clue, but still, he brushed away any of his wife’s concerns. “The principal is meeting with some American, and maybe there’s a disagreement. I’m on standby.” He shrugged. “Minchev is a hot one; he doesn’t like anybody, so nothing new in that.”
She looked worried, so he said, “It’s fine, love. Regardless of what the boss is into, my part in this is easy. I’m the junior here. They got me securin’ the safe room, is all.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means I’m sittin’ in a suite we took for the night, and I’m talking to you and Ronan.” He smiled a little. “The four other blokes are down with the boss in the bar. I’m sure they can manage.”
The baby made a few sounds, but Deirdre did not speak.
Charlie noted her silence. “What’s wrong?”
She said, “Sounds like you’re around a lot of alcohol. You’re not on the lash, are ya?”
“I’m dry as a bone, love. We’re not going back to that. Those days are behind the both of us.”
The young woman didn’t seem certain, but she let it go. Said, “Ya think anyone’s going to come after your protectee like they did in Macedonia?”
Charlie shrugged. “I’m ready, come what may. One thing I can be sure of is this: anyone who comes at Minchev is bound to be a right big bastard, same as he. I won’t think twice about dropping somebody who poses a threat. Down here, it’s crook against crook. No good guys to worry about.”
“You’rea good guy, and I worry about you. Look.” She hesitated, then said, “Why don’t ye just come home? We’ll figure something else out for money. This sounds like a bad situation to put yerself—”
“No, love. A man’s word’s got to stand for something. I took this job, I promised to protect my principal. That’s what I’m goin’ to do.”
After a pause, she said, “All right. I understand. But…after this…after this, I want you to find honest work.”
In his left ear Charlie heard the men on his team transmitting to one another. It was all in Bulgarian again, so he didn’t suppose it had anything to do with him.
He turned his attention back to his wife. “I’m down here just ninety days, we’ll make what we need to make, pay some bills, and I’ll move on to something better.” He smiled a little. “And no more takin’ work from Marcus bloody Maragos.”
“You know,” she said now, “there’s always another option. Isn’t there?”
Charlie cocked his head a little, then made a face of displeasure. “No. No, there’s isn’t.”
Deirdre said, “You could ask your da.”
“I’ll be makin’ my own way, love. Don’t need my father’s money.”
“But—”
Quickly, he said, “Lemme see my son again.”
She held Ronan back up. The baby’s eyes were softening; he looked like he was about to nod off, but his father wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
He feared Deirdre was going to bring up money again, bring up his issues from the past, his relationship with his father, his dirty job down here in the Balkans, all subjects Charlie Coyle was not in the mood to talk about at present, but before she began to speak, he held a finger up, because another call came through his earpiece.
Bulgarian again, but the words sounded rushed, stressed.
A man answered back quickly. Another barked into his microphone.
