The Big Thing
Raphael Mirabaud
The taste of smoke.
Raphael sat in his father’s office, his legs crossed at the knee, trying to look unconcerned.
His uncle Bastien sat in the other chair in front of the desk, his hands clenched between his knees and his elbows braced on his thighs, bent over. He was staring at the carpeting, not looking up.
Valerian was leaningback in his chair, turned to stare out the window at the violet shadows lengthening over the street outside. The setting sun painted the white buildings burning peaches and gilded the others with warm light.
Bastien said, “I don’t know why we need to start this sort of thing up again.”
“It’s Raphael’s specialty,” Valerian said, turning a cup of tea on his desk. “We want the Ilyins to accepthim back into the organization. If we were merely to continue money laundering services, they have no reason to forgive him. We have to show them why he’s useful.”
Raphael ground his teeth together but did not otherwise move. He wished for a cigarette but was trying to keep it to two per day, and he’d already had his allotment. The nicotine buzz and the taste of smoke made him feel like RaphaelMirabaud again.
With the smoke, he remembered how to be callous.
Raphael asked, “What is the shipment?”
“Narcotics, I’ve heard,” Valerian said. “I haven’t told them who will be handling it, just said that we’ve brought a new person on board who can facilitate the entry and transfer of the drugs.”
“You’re sure it’s drugs?” Raphael asked.
Valerian nodded. “Quite sure, and it isn’t as if we’resmuggling weapons. Drug addicts have gotten themselves addicted to these chemicals. It’s their own fault, and the drugs aren’t even staying in Switzerland.”
Raphael surmised that few people made a goal of narcotic addiction. “I don’t like that these drugs will be here in Geneva at all.”
“The shipment is passing through to Estonia and Sweden.”
Raphael supposed that was better, somehow, thoughhe didn’t see it. “All right.”
“You’ll oversee the shipment when it arrives by container ship in Savona, Italy. There’ll be a bunch of other trash in the container that will be sent to Italian stores from the warehouse. From there, the narcotics will be trucked overland to Geneva and divided into shipments for Estonia and Sweden.”
Raphael nodded. Iranian heroin was often transported overlandfrom the Middle East to Lebanonese or Turkish ports on the Mediterranean Sea. From there, it was hidden in container ships that sailed to Italian ports. Once inside Europe, they were free to distribute it with few restrictions, thanks to open European borders. He knew all this. He’d overseen heroin smuggling before. It wasn’t even particularly novel.
What was unusual was the unease that filteredthrough him, a self-hatred that pervaded every cell in his body.
It wasn’t just the heroin. Raphael wasn’t a prude and didn’t disparage the occasional use of alcohol or marijuana, as long as it didn’t influence a person’s judgment, or they weren’t driving, or they weren’t military and thus forbidden, or such.
But the thought occurred to him that smuggling heroin was the equivalent of sellinga gun and ammunition to someone whom you knew was deeply depressed.
The complicity in the impending harm bothered him.
Years ago, that thought wouldn’t have occurred to Raphael Mirabaud, let alone disturbed him. He would have been excited by the danger of managing the shipment, and maybe he would have looked forward to sampling a bit of the wares, just to make sure he was selling good shit.
Raphael asked, “When do I leave for Savona?”
“Friday morning,” Valerian said. “You’ll have some of our men with you.”
Bratva henchmen to make sure Raphael didn’t step out of line. They’d have orders to shoot him and then to radio instructions back to the men standing over Flicka and Alina.
His father said, “That afternoon, you’ll facilitate the delivery of the container—”
Which meant bribingcustoms officials to forego the theoretical though rare inspection.
“—and take possession of it. Time at the warehouse should be minimal. You’ll extricate the heroin from the rest of the clothes or whatever is in the container. You’ll make sure the truck is adequately protected and ride back in one of the escort vehicles Saturday morning.”
