The Mojacar Chess Club by Tom Fynes

 

Bishop sat hugging his glass of water at the bar. King was chugging on a Cuban cigar. The bar was empty. Another sunny afternoon on the Mojacar Playa strip.

Their Nite Club, ‘The Abyss,’ didn’t open for punters until late. The problem now was a lack of punters with cash. Their regular trade of Irish, Russian, and Spanish mobsters had all gone to ground. Europol was throwing them all in jail. Which was a huge disappointment to Bishop. 

The front door suddenly opened. He checked the mirror behind the bar. He was met by a vision straight out of the movies. She was tall. At least 5’10’’ and all legs. She was wearing the miniest of red mini skirts. Red high heels and a large summer hat. She didn’t look like the type to take prisoners. King recognized her from the Spanish TV. Kathleen Hinkley, a US movie star, and now a Spanish TV star.

She had a bodyguard dressed all in black walking behind her. He appeared to be carrying a briefcase.

“So, this is the Mojacar Chess Club,” she said, with a touch of irony.

Bishop had moved from the bar and to the right. King had gone left. She watched them with what looked like contempt or possibly amusement.

She waved at her bodyguard to come forward and pointed at an empty table.

He placed the briefcase on the table then turned and left.

“I have a job for you,” she said, as she opened the briefcase.

Bishop could see it was full of Euros.

She sat at the table, and they joined her.

“OK, you have our undivided attention,” Bishop said, not taking his eyes off the cash.

“My brother is missing. And I believe he may be caught up with an organization called Cicada 3301.”

King said, “Hacker group. They use some type of convoluted babushka doll system of crypto code puzzles to recruit new members.”

“My brother was caught up with the chase. Cracking their insane crypto puzzles. The last one was pasted on a wall in Garrucha. At the Mercadona bus stop. He went there and never came home. I believe he’s been taken.”

“By Cicada 3301?”

“Who else!”

“You’re a celebrity. Has there been a ransom demand?”

“It’s been a month. No demand.”

“A month! You waited a month to find him,” said Bishop.

“No, I hired some muscle. But they were scared off.”

“By Cicada 3301?”

“I don’t know. The group I hired have all left town.”

“So now you’re having a guilt trip and want our chess club to take part in this rigged game,” said King.

“It could end up with his death. I’m his sister. I need to find him.”

King pulled the briefcase to him. “We’ll take the case. And… take the case.”

“I’ll pay expenses as long as they’re reasonable.”

“We’ll get your brother back. Dead or alive,” said Bishop.

Which made her visibly flinch.

So, she wasn’t a cold-hearted bitch after all, thought King.