Page 5 of Gamma
“I don’t know you. Why take my little girl if I don’t even know you? You said your name was Karahalios. I know that name. In Athens where I grew up, everyone knows that name. What is a Karahalios to me, tell me that.”
“My father was Dmitri Konstantin. My mother was Gina Karahalios, and my grandfather was Vitaly Karahalios.”
Georgios’s eyes widen, and he crosses himself, dry-spits to one side. “The news reports…all members of the Karahalios family are dead. It was confirmed.”
“I was a secret. My grandfather didn’t know I existed. No one except my mother did.”
Georgios crosses himself again. “Dmitri, my uncle, he vanished when I was young. He was a drunk, always vanishing for a few days. But then one time, he never showed up again. We always thought he had fallen into the sea or something.”
Apollo shoves his hands in his pockets. “He was…acquired, let’s say, by my mother. As a sort of…companion. It resulted in me, rather unexpectedly for my mother who had thought herself barren from a childhood illness. I never knew Dmitri. Never saw him. He died of alcoholism before I was three.”
“So you are my cousin. How am I just now meeting you?”
“I didn’t discover the truth of who my mother and grandfather were until I was in my twenties, and it wasn’t until recently that I set about to find out who my father’s family was.” Apollo pauses, eyes roaming the dingy, dark apartment.
A threadbare couch faces a small TV with a low glass-topped coffee table between; a galley kitchen in the back right corner opens to a small area just big enough for a four-seat table; a short hallway between the kitchen and the living room leads to two bedrooms and a bathroom.
“A genetic investigator figured out who my father was, and in turn that I have a rather large extended family, both here in the States and back in Greece. But…I stayed away from you all. For your own good.”
“For our own good, hmm? Didn’t help much, I think.”
“I guess not.” Apollo makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “I was involved in the same business my mother and grandfather were, for a time. Then, I met her.” He gestures at me. “She changed me, and I left all that behind. I thought I’d…taken care of anyone who might see me as an enemy, but it seems I was mistaken. Why they chose your daughter as leverage, I don’t know. But it’s about me. My past. My mistakes.” He meets Georgios’s eyes. “And I am sorry, cousin. You deserve better. Please rest assured, I will not rest until your daughter is safe at home with you again.”
“What are you going to do? How will you get her back?”
“They sent me a…threat, and a demand. I think they want to exchange me for her. Which I will do. And in so doing, once your daughter is safe, me and my friends—” he gestures at the armed guards standing with their backs to the door, “will handle the bastards who did this.”
“What was the threat?”
Apollo shakes his head. “Not important. What matters is that they want me and are using her to get me. It’s weak, vile, and pathetic, and it will not go well for them.”
Georgios glances at me. “Where do you fit in? I know you, I think. I have seen your face.”
“I’m Corinna Roth.”
His eyes go to the most recentPeoplemagazineon his coffee table: they recently did a piece on me, as one of the youngest and most influential CEOs in the world, with a profile on the work Valkyrie is doing. That article is the centerpiece of the issue, with my photograph on the cover.
He looks from me to the magazine and back. “Oh. But…why are you here? To support him?”
“That, yes.” I smile at him. “But I’m also connected to a security firm which specializes in abduction cases exactly like this. I know it’s frightening and scary, but I can promise you, there is no one in the whole world better at getting kidnapping victims back to their families unharmed.”
“I cannot pay.” He gestures at the apartment. “My wife had to go to work so we don’t get evicted, but I have to stay here in case the people who took our Yelena try to contact us. We barely make it, okay? I cannot pay for your services.”
Apollo shakes his head. “We aren’t asking you to, Georgios.” He withdraws his cell phone from his suit coat’s inside pocket and dials a number. “In fact…” he trails off as someone on the other end answers. “Michael, yes, I need you to do something for me. Are you ready?” He rattles off the address of this apartment building. “Purchase the building. Cash. Whatever it takes, I don’t care. Once that’s done, see that the residents of number three-ten never pay rent again.” He glances at Georgios. “Address of your bodega?”
Georgios doesn’t seem to be quite following what’s happening and recites the address in a daze. “What…what are you doing?”
Apollo ignores the question. “Second, purchase this building,” here, he gives the address, “and see that the bodega rented to Georgios Konstantin is…wait. Scrap that. Buy the building but we’re giving it to Georgios Konstantin. I know, I know. Assign someone to help him navigate the ownership, taking rents, managing the money, building a portfolio, all that. Yes, Dante is perfect—he’s as old-world as my cousin is. Good. Get it done and let me know when—wait, no, I’ll be out of contact. Let Corinna know, okay? Great. Thanks, Michael.”
Georgios, who had been standing near the kitchen this whole time, sits down heavily at the nearby table. “What did you just do?”
“Set you up.” Apollo replaces the phone in his pocket. “I don’t know you very well, but I suspect you would not take a handout. So instead, I’m giving you a little bit of a step up. In a few days, I’ll own this apartment building, and you’ll never pay rent again. In that same time span, you’ll come to own the whole building your bodega is in. It’s a valuable piece of real estate, and owning it will set you up for success, okay? You own it. You get the rents from all the residents and businesses. You’ll have someone helping you figure out how the fuck to go from owning a bodega to owning real estate, because cousin, it’s not simple. But if you can move here with next to nothing and end up owning a bodega? You can do this. Build up some cash. Invest in another property. Find something, fix it up, sell it. Or shit, once you own the building, turn around sell it and figure out your own idea of what to do with the money. I’m not gonna tell you what to do. It’s not charity. It’s just an apology. Your daughter is missing and it’s my fucking fault. It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s your idea of I’m sorry? Buy a couple buildings?” It’s hard to tell if he’s amused, perplexed, angry, or all three.
A shrug from Apollo. “If I had offered you a check for…oh, I don’t know. A million dollars? Would you have taken it?”
Georgios snorts. “It won’t bring back my daughter. And a million dollars? It’s a lot of money. It would make my life easier. But would it end all of my troubles? Not in New York. This place is damn expensive. No one told me this, when I came.”