Josh discovered La casa and was overwhelmed. Why, if this wasn’t the life of leisure and peace they had talked about back in England! How had Andy gotten this far ahead in a few months?

He was shown to the garden, still sleeping in the winter and to all those places Andy hanged around everyday. He met the roomies: three great friends with a low proficiency in English.

“Oh yeah,” he said, “that almost made me give up on the way. Another language, Andy? Wasn’t French enough already?”

“It’s all right,” said Andy. “We talk, you know? I don’t always get the full meaning across, but we understand the intentions.” He was happy to see Josh and his bright personality again, but he had something else on his mind. He had seen the blue car follow them. There was only one reason why someone would follow Josh. They had been caught.

Maybe there was a way to reason with whoever was in that car? Still showing Josh around, he tried to devise a tactic that would allow him to go over there without involving the others. What could he do? Just walk over them and ask them for a talk? Sneak up on them? Crash them into a tree the moment the car is started?

In the worst case, Andy though it could be a team sent to silence them. He was not having any of his new or old friends die for no reason. As time went on and he kept showing Josh around, a disturbing feeling crept into him. As things stood, the best thing to do was to lead the car away. Heroics were not usually a part of Andy’s way of doing things, which is why he kept pushing the idea away. Surely there was something better he could do. Becoming bait without a plan was simply reckless.

Maybe he could call the cops on them? No, Andy couldn’t say for sure that the people in that car were planning anything. It would only make them up their game. Maybe if he kept on ignoring them they would go away… since they came after Josh in what must have been the most boring tailing ever. They most likely didn’t have a choice if they wanted to find both of them discreetly, but who would willingly tail someone who spends two weeks hitchhiking? If anything, the people behind it would be quite pissed already.

He understood pretty soon that there was no way to avoid the confrontation. Andy had to go there, signal them so they would follow him and hopefully be able to talk them out of simply executing him. He never really had that much of a scare about death before, but now he cared. He cared about what he had started at La casa, he cared about goofy Josh and well-traveled Alicja, all of his new Spanish friends, the people that were still to meet. Maybe he didn’t care in the ordinary way people do, but they all were or would be an important part of his universe. What he cared for now was bigger than himself in a way and that changed him. Made him scared. That particular feeling, in turn, felt pretty ominous in regards to what he was about to do. Was finally the end? Was he getting what he deserved?

In a small way, he had always thought it would happen. He was bound get killed. He had done so many bad things, the universe would find balance, get even. He would pay for who he was one day or another. It was just a matter of time.

That last though sprung him into action. Maybe he would die, yes. But he had no reason to be a sitting duck.

Damian G. almost didn’t believe it when he saw Andy come right up his window and tap it a few times. He was alone. He seemed to be unarmed. ‘Well, they can say what they want,’ thought Damian, ‘but the old man has balls.’

He let the window slide down and waved at the old murderer. His gun was warming up against his lap, at the ready. “Are you lost, old man?” he said, looking at the hit man like he didn’t know anything.

Damian wasn’t renowned for his subtlety. He wasn’t really renowned at all, either. Just a small mob playing big, more or less taunting people for a living. When they called him to track down Andrew and Dylan, he knew they were OK with him dying in the process. He didn’t mind at all. The people he was after were legends, yeah, but legends of the past. Who knew if even half of what they were famous for was even true? Damian was a modern guy, though. He had studied for the job, ad he was good at it. It should have infuriated him when they sent him off like a disposable pawn, but instead he thought: ‘This is my big break! I’m gonna bring back their heads and the bosses are gonna love me. No more small business for Damian: I’m so much better than this.’

Here he was, Andy facing him. He found out he was sweating buckets. Not so easy to be in front of the man, now was it? It was a challenge for him to keep his bearings. Andy just kept looking at him without uttering a word. ‘Damn it, man, you’re not above answering me, no matter who you are,’ thought Damian.

He cleared his throat and talked again. “Give me a place where we can talk,” he said. There was no use keeping up the pretense, anyway. It was better to take care of Andrew first, as they had said. He was the thinker, not Dylan the driver. He was gonna talk. He had to know it was just a matter of time before things went south.

Andy still wasn’t talking, or maybe he was still thinking. When he finally spoke, he was brief, to say the least. “Tomorrow at noon,” he said, “a mile into the next dirt track on the road towards Torrun.”

He left just like that, not even particularly threatening. Damian resisted the temptation of shooting him in the back. They wanted to talk, they had said. Nothing harder than those missions where you had to second-guess everything they asked and make your own decisions. If he messed up, he would be the one getting disposed of. He wasn’t gonna mess up. He was good and he would get the job done. He repeated that in his head a few times until he was convinced of it, then he started the engine and drove away.

Andy watched him go. He had cold sweat running down his back. He hadn’t thought he would be so out of shape after less than a year. His instincts, his forwardness, every little thing that had helped him stay alive all this time was gone. He had lost his touch. It was for that exact reason that they wanted him out. He was too old and he knew too much. He was gonna need a lot more than luck to survive the next encounter.

Tomorrow at noon, he had said. Now he just needed to find a way to survive.