Benjamin Doe

Prologue

Almost six years earlier…

It was a sunny afternoon back somewhere on the Northern coast of Africa, in a place full of desires but lacking hope. A place where many foreigners went to do their business, to get a lot of their lives, leaving in the end and taking everything with them. People were hungry, not only for food but also for dreams becoming real. They desired to have the chance of a decent life, like so many that they see on television. Just like he saw on the black and white television image right in front of him.

“News from the channel 17th. A place for your trusted information about world news.”, emitted the voice from the old television hanging somewhere over an even older wardrobe. A decaying bar close to the docks served the small city and the region. It continued, “The conflict in Tripoli is already dragging for two weeks, with both conflicting forces battling on the streets. The number of dead surpasses the thousands, with many constructions destroyed in a trail of misery.”

Benjamin looked at his cup of whiskey while sitting by the porch, observing the people passing around, drinking a bit of it in the end. Far away, he could glimpse his fishing boat. An imposing piece of wood floated there over the water, gently moving from one side to the other, bumping against the pier surrounding its left side. Although that was a big fishing boat, he had no idea how to fish. Even more, he hated every single aspect of fishing. But it served its purpose, and he had used it many times as the perfect disguise for his operations.

For the past year or so, he had been actively smuggling suspect items to the very same region that was now in conflict, and he had all the hints to think that they were weapons. Nothing more than a few short words. A payment upfront and a promise of having someone pick up the wooden boxes on the delivery. And the rest of the payment at the end. That was all he waited for - and that was all he wanted to know.

The time was passing, close to thirteen hours of the scheduled time. Until the moment that someone pulled a chair by his side and sat close to his seat. He looked, unamused.

“Doe, how are you doing?”

“How do you think? It is hot as hell here. And it seems that it is only going to get worse.”

The man placed a fat brown package by the side of his chair, slightly bumping his elbow against his, trying to call his attention.

“Are the boxes ready to transport?”

“As usual, as you can see.” Benjamin pointed to the boxes laying close to a bench, where a family awaited to onboard for their trip.

With a quick hand movement, some of the transients changed their direction and went to the boxes, picking one by one and loading an old green truck, waiting there for more than half an hour, when he had first arrived. The truck started with a loud noise, and it soon departed, crossing the street and taking the road somewhere behind him. Although he wasn’t sure of what was in it, he knew that it would only fuel the conflict that was about to happen.

“Are you open for a next job?”

Benjamin placed the glass over the table, enjoying the alcohol burning down his throat while taking his time to think. After a few seconds of silence between both, he finally replied: “As usual, as you can see.”

The same answer made the man, that wasn’t a stranger to him, frown in a disapproval effort to those always short and uninteresting conversations between them.

“You could at least try, Doe. We are all working here, and we know each other for such a long time. A bit of distraction can always be good for both sides.” The guy smiled with his big teeth. In a large mouth, they were disproportional for his round face partially hidden by a beard that the man tried to grow in the last months without any success.

“Johanne, I think you should focus more on what we need to solve. Especially more than staying here chit chatting while the world is burning around us.”, he pointed upwards and signaled for the airplane sounds circling somewhere around there.

Johanne corrected his position at the table, getting close to him and, with his breath of fish that made Benjamin’s eyes burn, he shared. “I have a request for you, this time isn’t only from my boss, it is mine. I mean, my boss wants something, but I need your help with another one. Would you please be able to help me?”

Benjamin looked back at him, attentive to what that known stranger would ask. Something more important than his boss's request, above his own life, was more important.

“I need you to take my family and me out of here. And after the next job, when you take them away, I go with you. Then I can be with them and take care of the rest.”

Those words sounded strange, they felt disproportionally worried and his voice couldn’t hide the fear, the apprehension that he carried. Although Doe could see it in his friend's eyes, his long friend wasn’t sharing everything he knew, or thought to know at that point. For Benjamin, especially, it was a hard topic. He had had many occasions where he did not transport goods, but people and those were the most difficult occasions. Not only because they have their desires, of course, that was expected, but once the sense of freedom get in their minds, it was hard to cooperate with whoever it was. Then, it wasn’t only his job to bring those people to a safe place, where they could finally rebuild their lives, but his missing to not let them die at any cost. Unfortunately, that sometimes happened.

Benjamin looked back to the almost empty glass on his hand, wishing it had two or three fingers more of whiskey. His mind was cloudy, just like the water from the bay after a day of heavy rain.

“Johan… I… You know that I do not transport people. The stakes are too high, it isn’t a simple operation.”, he said while leaning forward and holding his upper body over his elbows on that old wooden table.

“I can pay you if that is the issue.”

No, it wasn’t my issue. Not this time.

“You know, I wouldn’t charge you for any of this. What is going on?”

His friend’s face became serious, although his skin was always brown from the sun, he was pale. Benjamin could see while he tried to find the correct words, pondering before sharing his thoughts. His mouth was slightly ajar while he took a deep breath, recomposing himself before continuing.

“I have had this strange feeling for a few days… one that something bad will soon happen.”

Considering that they are currently in one of the areas where most of the war was taking place, it wasn’t a surprising declaration for any of them. It was, in fact, an obvious statement that Benjamin was aware, well aware. He had lost count of how many people had already tried to ask him to smuggle them to whatever place he could think of, and offered unimaginable good, money, and promises if he did it so. And he never, ever succumbed to any of those requests. But at the same time, none of them came from someone so close to him.

Benjamin could only feel divided at that point.

“I have this feeling that I and my family are being followed. I don’t know by whom, nor why anyone would be doing that.” Johannes’ hands were shaking while he said those words, with his voice trembling, almost not coming out of his mouth. “In any case, please, think if you can help us. As for my boss’s job, someone will bring a load you should bring to south Italy. There, a correspondent will meet you by the harbor of the city of Taranto, and you will be paid when arriving with the goods.”

While lifting an eyebrow to express his indignation, while looking at his friend, it was almost an order to follow the rules.

Come on man, you know how things work with me.

“Right,” he pulled another brown package from his back pocket, placing it over the table, “you never make it easy. There’s a restaurant by the side of the Capitaneria di Porto, the coast guard office building, and you will be your contact there.”

With no further words would be needed for him, Benjamin nodded affirmatively. The fifty percent payment was on his hands, and he had a day or so to get there, drop whatever payload or package he had to drop and he would get out of there, easy. Johannes stood up to that point, slowly and melancholic vesting his favorite leather jacket, the very same one that he used in every single encounter they had, even though it was making almost forty degrees that day. His movements were slow, and thoughtful, almost dragging himself one or two steps behind Doe’s chair.

“Once I’m back we can discuss how to conduct this other payload that you want me to take care of it, right?” he asked his friend, without taking his eyes from the sea in front of him.

Benjamin’s head was already around all the preparation he would have to perform, not only for this current job he had to fulfill. But also for all the planning and preparation, he would need while extracting his friend and his family from that place. Especially without anyone noticing that one of the main middlemen from a well-known warlord, full of ears and eyes everywhere, was planning to leave things behind as soon as possible.

Although he couldn’t see it, he felt in his friend's voice that his question was well received. With the same enthusiasm as a kid that just got a new toy to play with.

“Sure, sure! I’ll be right here, with all of them, waiting for you to come and take us. I’ll make sure we pack light, get enough money, and are well fed. The usual time is 5 days, correct?”

“As usual, my friend. As usual!”

A waitress came holding the usual whiskey bottle that was his favorite. Without saying a word she poured the last glass to him, which he diligently turned all at once, exhaling the alcohol through his nose. Johannes turned, now with happiness mixed with hope, and went his separate way for that day.

The last job wasn’t different from many of the dozens of other ones he had completed before. To get the boxes into his boat, accommodate everything in a concealed manner and sail was just as usual as it could be. During the ways, he was sailing to his destination nothing extraordinary happened, nor during the processes that he had followed while meeting the contact in the other city indicated by his friend.

On the way back, on the other hand, things began to feel out of place. At first, the local contact in Taranto had a request for him to bring a small letter from someone there. The document was perfectly sealed with a heavy and shiny seal that kept its secrets away from Benjamin’s eyes. During the last stretch from the trip back to the small city by the shore, an unnoticed storm hit the area where he was navigating, delaying his arrival by a few hours while he fought with all his skills to keep the old boat in place.

When arriving at the docs, he quickly unloaded and headed to the very same bar he had been on uncountable occasions. He held the letter in his hand for hours without any sign of his friend Johannes or even his family.

They had probably left. He had been so late that it would be understandable if he decide that was a good idea to not transport them if that would put them, or he, in danger. Benjamin couldn’t help himself other than to think that his friend, his old friend, was trying to seek help somewhere else that was not with him.

But whom? Who can do the same thing I am doing around here?

His mind was divagating, thinking about all the possibilities that could in one matter or the other, influence whatever options and ideas that he would come up with it. As the very same waitress kept bringing the bottle while offering a dose or two, Benjamin could only think about what could have happened to all of them. Something was feeling wrong, it was looking wrong.

From the other side of the - if he could call it that way - avenue that separated the bar from the pier, he saw a small boy dressed in simple clothes looking around. It turned a few times, looking with attentive eyes until the moment that it finally found what he was looking for.

“Mister Doe?”, he said, while coming closer. The boy itself couldn’t have been much more than ten or twelve years old by his young appearance, and his childish voice only confirmed the suspicion.

I was downgraded to deal with kids now?

Benjamin nodded, reluctant to whatever could come from that project of a small dealer.

The kid pulled a brown back, just like his old friend would do in such situations, but much more careless than he would do, and placed it over the table.

“Your other half, for the good work. Do you have the letter that was handed to you?”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, he was hesitant, thoughtful. No matter how much he would love to discover what was in that letter, he had to hand it to the kid. Unviolated, intact. Benjamin looked at the inside pocket of his jacket, taking his time while evaluating everything around him. Could be that his friend was testing him, it was probable. He had done it before while playing a prank, but now it would be an unpleasant one.

The boy took it with his small hands, opening his jacket and tucking it in, carefully. He looked in Doe’s eyes, nodded once more, and turned to leave.

“Hey, boy,” he couldn’t further resist asking, “do you know the old man that took care of what you are doing nowadays? Johannes?”

His expression was serious, his eyebrows and forehead frowned while the kid took a deep breath, pondering what exactly he was allowed to tell.

“Yes. And they told me to tell you, that if you asked about Johannes, I should inform you to leave immediately.”

Doe took it as a punch in his stomach, he was there too late. He felt like he had failed his best friend, and couldn’t save any of them.

“Who are they?”

“The people that pay you. Also, you don’t have new jobs here this time. Your services are no longer required.”

The boy put himself together and left, running as any playful child would do. On the other hand, Doe stood there, standing, trying to understand where exactly he had failed.

***

Chapter 11

“Papa”, called the sweet voice of a girl, “are you coming for breakfast?”

Benjamin looked back to the little image of that girl that was calling him from inside the living room, while he stood out on the balcony of his house, looking at the horizon. He had been there for the past hour and a half, hoping that he would at least understand the reason behind whatever agglomeration was going on.

Since the last days, he had been following the escalation of demonstrations and conflicts scattered around the town. He had been blocked from arriving at work a few times, and at that point, most of the population was just too afraid of even stepping out of their own homes to do anything that wasn’t strictly for their survival.

At that moment he could only go observe by his balcony from the second floor the agglomeration of people carrying flags and shouting unhappy words to whoever was willing to hear them. Many of the ones that stood at their homes, just like Benjamin, were critically observing the demonstrations going on so close to them.

On the other side of the street, an old neighbor, a short brown man with thick eyebrows that almost connected one side to the other observed, just like he was doing. His white hair covering all the extension of his head, which gives him the impression of being using a helmet, moved from one side to the other in disapproval.

Benjamin put the rest of his cigar out, smashing it against the stone parapet of his balcony, placing the remaining part of it close to the nearest pillar.

“I’m coming, my sweetheart.”

He entered back to the almost empty living room. Nothing much more than an old brown sofa was placed on the further right side of the corner, and on the left, a small table with a radio that was almost always turned on. But that time, his wife decided that was a good idea to keep it turned off.

“It would be better for us if we knew less about what is going on.” She used to say during the last few days.

The sweet smell of the coffee being prepared by his wife was spreading through the air. He took a seat by the small round table where four chairs could fit, three of them are always used. The fourth, as he liked to say, was for the boy that would come to complete our lives.

“Aren’t you worried about what is going on outside, Benjamin?”, his wife asked without turning to look him directly in the eye, continuing to do her chores with the usual efficiency.

He honestly didn’t know what to reply.

Although he knew that, at least of now, the demonstrations were pacific enough. They were turning the other people’s more difficult, that was for sure, but at least until that moment, it was safe to stay put. Deep down he knew that something was wrong, that the way things were escalating it wouldn’t and well. But either way, he didn’t want to share in front of his child, young enough to understand the complexities and the horrors of the world that surrounded them all.

By the table, his entire - small in number, but equally important to him - family tried to live one day at a time, without worrying so much about the happenings outside. And for the last days staying at home was what they tried to do. Suffocating their desire to go out, to see the world. To have a normal life.

Until that very moment, the one that something changed.

Screams, different from the ones before.

Loud noises, that had nothing to do with the usual ones.

The once pacific manifestation that crossed the street by his house was no more.

It all changed. He whispered, standing from his chair while his wife got the daughter by her arms, trying as much as she could to protect her precious kid from whatever was happening outside.

Benjamin rushed back to the balcony, slamming the doors open while reaching the rails. At first, the vision wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Everything continued just like he had left before, and the very same neighbor continued observing from his balcony.

But this time, something away, block ahead, had changed. He could hear gunshots. Repetitive, insatiable. They came one after the other. And, together with them, came the screams. And the people running from the other end of the street.

The neighbor on the other side of the street looked back at Benjamin. Although they hardly exchanged words daily, the few times they did create a bond between them. On the times when he needed help, Benjamin and his wife were there to auxiliary him. This time, he was there to inform them. And so he did.

“Run!”, the old man screamed from the other side of the street.

Benjamin looked back at him, while his mind was trying to absorb his words, although deep inside he knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Run Benjamin, get your family out of here and run!”, he screamed again.

His mind was rushing through all the possibilities that he couldn’t see at that moment. Gunshots, explosions, people screaming, and storming houses on his street. He knew what was happening. It was clear to all of them, that it wouldn’t take much longer for the conflicts to begin. And at the same pace, it wouldn’t take much longer for other effects from the conflicts to start appearing. Benjamin had all that in his mind, and he had something prepared. He knew where to find a safe place, at least for his family.

Benjamin rushed inside his home where his wife and daughter were standing by the small kitchen, tucked in between each others’ arms. They were afraid and crying, their faces expressed the despair that they were living at that moment. They were defenseless at that point, with too much passing in their minds to think straight about how to survive at that point.

“We need to get out of here. Now! Where are the bags I’ve asked you to prepare?”

His wife pointed to a small pile of essential things, packed in tree backpacks that they all could carry while getting out of that place. Benjamin grabbed all three and rushed with his family to the first floor. There they could hear the sounds of guns closer and closer. From the front window, they observed the population trying to escape from whoever was coming. People were stomped, and people were left behind without a second thought. They had no other way of escaping if now by using an exit by the fence at the back of the house, eventually leading to a narrow, almost unused road that would lead directly to where they needed: to the shore.

Benjamin had been preparing himself for the past months, he had made contacts and friends in every single place he could. Those, eventually, led him to meet a strange and shady guy called Jacob. From what his acquaintances described, he was completely unreliable, trying to try you into every single sort of scheme to get your money, and that - as some said - he would see his mother pay his dinner, and get her back after a while.

No one could say that he was trustworthy. No one even tried to. And Benjamin was well aware of that.

Even though he knew about his fame, from all the lack of trustful things he had heard, there was one thing that made him overcome all of it. He was the only one that could take him, and his family, out of there. He could do it safely, and without anyone perceiving it. For some weeks they had been in direct contact when Benjamin began to negotiate their extraction towards the island of Malta.

And it would all be culminating in that very moment. While crossing one more block with his wife and daughter following him, Benjamin had a glimpse of what his city was becoming: an open battlefield.

From far away he could observe people, on both extremes of the street, firing against each other. They shouted, yelled, and continued to brutally suppress each other's advances. They knew what they were fighting, and for what they would die. But for Benjamin, and especially his family, this wasn’t something they were willing to experience anytime soon.

Benjamin looked back at both of them, taking cover behind a brick wall that separated two houses.

“We are close to the shore, okay? We only have a few blocks more to cross. Do you remember what I told you before?”

His wife looked around, frightened, and replied without thinking much.

“Yes, I do! Go to Jacob, at the blue boat by the end of pier 3. We will make it.”

Her voice was trembling from the fear. She grabbed her daughter’s clothes so tightly that it almost became a big ball of cloth, with parts of it escaping from whiting the fingers from her hand. The little girl, on the other hand, looked frozen, without saying a single word since they had left the house behind. Her eyes were full of tears, and even though the situation was terrible, she was brave enough and cried quietly, avoiding being heard.

She wished for it to the over soon.

All of them.

Once Benjamin pulled his wife and daughter through another alley that would bring them closer to their final destiny out of there. The sounds of the fight continued echoing from all sides, the stomps and the screams that followed were horrific. A few meters ahead and they stopped at the end of another block.

By getting to the next corner, Benjamin sneaked his head while using the brick all from that house as cover. His eyes sat over a group of protesters that came from the opposite side of the streets. They shouted words of order and freedom, and they asked for the support of the population that observed from the houses.

Something was weird. It sounded weird.

Shoutings came from their back, from where his attention was dragged. There, on the other end, from where they had just come, people were using the walls as covering while shouting and shooting back at whoever was coming in their direction.

The repetitive firing synced with their heartbeats. Their adrenaline was on top, and their minds the complete blank. They were on the verge of panicking.

“Benjamin, we have to get out of here,” said his wife while pulling him by his shirt, “these people are insane, and we have no way of protecting ourselves.”

He knew what his wife was referring to, and he also knew that she was right. On the other hand, he had no idea how he could reach the other side of the road without being seen. For a moment he stopped to think, but everything changed from there.

An unfamiliar sound came from somewhere. The strange rattling sound of iron touching the tarmac. An engine rumbled somewhere from there, and when it eventually growled, the rattling sound intensified following it. More and more screams were heard around, and explosions followed them. The entire city was immersed in chaos. And they were stranded there, forever, if they couldn’t reach the pier soon enough.

Suddenly the rattling sound was followed by its source. Appearing by the other street at Benjamin’s left, an armored vehicle, with wheels in front and tracks in the back. Imposing, it advanced without worrying once people from its opposite direction opened fire against it.

The soldiers inside continued to advance, and Benjamin and his family entered their field of view. Inside the truck, the soldier looked at the family taking cover, and waived incessantly for them to pass in front of them.

This is not possible.

Although the whole idea of crossing in front of an armored vehicle sounded stupid at that point, Benjamin looked at his family, who awaited anxiously for any decision on how to proceed. He had no time to waste, and pulled them once more in front of the oncoming vehicle and against the bullets flying in their direction, being shot by the protesters.

Clara ran with their little daughter in her arms when, suddenly, she screamed. She took almost a second to lose her balance and fall with Josh underneath her. Benjamin stopped and instinctively jumped over both of them, whilst the armored truck advanced at high speed.

They would have no chance against it. It would be meat against steel. A few kilos against tons of metal dislocating at high speed.

Benjamin looked at his wife, which was bleeding from her calf under.

She had been shot.

Josi cried frenetically.

It was the final moment for them. They closed their eyes.

And they kept them closed, until the moment that they hear squeaking tires. Something - or could be someone? - stopped the armored truck, only a few centimeters from them.