Goupil: A Bullet For Love

[Recap: After a furious forty eight hours, Goupil has fled America and retreated to a roadside cafe in the German hinterlands on his way to Russia. His mind racing as his car had down the legendary Autobahn freeway, he stopped at last to take stock of his situation, his life, and himself. He feared going forward into the "Russian black hole" but his options had dwindled with each bad decision of his life.

But he loved European cafes with their sense of instant community for any wandering soul (well, not so much for tourists). And at this point Goupil was desperate to connect to anything. If only he could stay in that cafe forever as he flashed back to the genesis of his path...]


A particularly spectacular sunrise burgeoned before the glistening eyes of Goupil as he scanned across the sky, absorbing the canvass of God.

"Magnifique!"

As an assassin Goupil always conducted his affairs during odd hours. "The less seen the better!" was one of his many steadfast mottos. But rarely did dawn occur on his watch unless he happened to have stayed up the night. Now, with his career literally arrested and an excess of time forcing him to open his eyes to the world around him he found himself on a voyage of discovery. The beauty of a sunrise was one - Diana was another.

He thought about her day and night, imagining conversations, dreaming of her soft, kissable shoulders as he ached with forbidden desire. His charade for visiting her was wearing thin but as his feelings deepened his caution lessened. He'd met her while proselytizing his Mormonism door to door. Diana was a died-in-the-wool Christian but truth was their chemistry trumped any staged religion. In fact, their division of religion made for a rock solid foundation, providing a safe distance between their emotions.

Goupil reported her to his masters as a solid prospect for conversion - thus the need for many repeat visits. He wondered what if she actually did convert and came into the fold. He'd make a life with her then and know the path he'd chosen was a true one. He chose to neglect the voice that told him he'd no longer respect her for giving up her principles, the idea of his having chosen well just too alluring a prospect to resist!

Like anyone, he'd heard the testimonials of being "saved" by religion and hoped the same outcome for himself as well. With his world knocked off its axis he was liable to grab at anything - even if he still shied away from outright honesty. In his new quest to be a Moral Man he vowed to turn over a new leaf and the meeting of Diana had been his reward - or so he felt. But in his own mind first he had to win the approval of his strict, moralist therapist.


He hated that icy witch who held a peculiar stranglehold on his life. Why did he give a damn about what she thought anyway? How is it he could not escape her words as they kept popping back in, puncturing his feelings at the most inopportune times? Why must he appease this fruitless god? Goupil told himself he did not have a such a need, her stupid remarks meant nothing to him and her adolescent American mind was forever stuck in puberty, perpetually shocked at the sight of a bare breast.

One morning Goupil came across an article on Victor Bout, a.k.a. The Merchant of Death, who'd finally been indicted after years of wildly successful arms peddling to warring factions around the globe, often to both sides. Bout, who at one point seemed untouchable as he fled to his native Russia for protection had been a rumored target for assassination. His indictments were for violating international sanctions but his dealings went much further than that.

In carelessness or callousness - Goupil didn't know which - Bout's airplane network had been subcontracted as a transporter for U.S. government arms and supplies. Bout had also been a supplier for the Taliban. And as such he had a unique knowledge of a most disturbing fact: The United States government had intentionally supplied the Taliban even after declaring war in 2002. The reason given to him was that were the Americans to achieve total victory, they would lose justification for their war machine in the Middle East and that simply was not an option to them.

Bout under arrest

So while pursuits were made against Bout through official channels what the Americans really wanted was him dead. So off-the-books was the assassination that Goupil - through intermediaries - had been tapped for the job. But Bout was cagey and elusive as he shuttled between warlord encampments and plush hideaways in exotic locales that the job was never made final. Goupil was often exposed to the true underbelly of the world but he found this incident galling and despicable in the extreme from a country that always claimed the moral high ground.

The new and improved Goupil, though, was ready to share this secret, exposing the government's duplicity, and to make himself a hero of truth! With a little digging he discovered something more:

On July 10, 2009, House Intelligence subcommittee Chairwoman Representative Jan Schakowsky (D, IL) announced the termination of an unnamed CIA covert program described as "very serious" in nature which had been kept secret from Congress for eight years...The program was rumored vis-a-vis leaks made by anonymous government officials on July 23, to be an assassinations program.

"Yes! Oui! It most certainly was an assassinations program!" Goupil leapt out of his chair reading the report, for he himself had been told his sanction was secret even from the American Congress by orders of the Vice-President. What was needed now was someone to put this all together and be a shining beacon of truth. Goupil decided to reveal this astounding news to the person most authoritative in his life: his court-ordered therapist nemesis.


Sitting down in the overly comforting chair before the stare of the Ice Queen's inquisition, he noticed for the first time he did so with a smile. Her implacable self-assuredness of smug moral superiority goaded him to no end and like solving an extremely difficult job, Goupil focused all his energies on breaking her, waiting for the opportunity that always came if one waited long enough. He wanted to come right out and say, "Your government sucks! They lie to you and betray you!" knowing she would take that as a direct reflection on her.

With a smug smile of his own, Goupil laid out the facts and made a clear and compelling story of his inside knowledge. He knew she wouldn't enjoy hearing the facts of the case but with her almighty claim to holiness he knew her appreciation for truth would outweigh the bad taste of his tale. But instead, she gave him only an icy, silent stare in response.

"This mean nothing to you, what I say to you here today in your office?" A flicker behind her implacable disdain? Did I finally get to her? Maybe she human after all!

"There's no point in telling this to me - to anyone really. No one will listen to anything a child molester says." She shifted in her chair as one who's bored by a time wasting conversation.

Looking back, Goupil saw this was his turning point, to forever turn his back on society and its claims. After all, any entity not open to the truth was futureless and a waste of time - exactly as the therapist saw him. But Goupil felt only rage at this moment, flabbergasted by her response.

"You tell me: 'Be responsible', 'Confess sin', "Be part of society' and when I do these things I get this? You shrug shoulders and act if I say nothing! Sacre bleu, madame! You sit there like pillar of the world but I see only fraud."

Her reaction was swift and precise, madly wishing to stab him with as many verbal wounds as possible, just wanting him dead and knowing nothing else. "You're still not getting what these sessions are about, are you Mr. Goupil? We need to find about your truths. What others do is something which you have no control over."

Then you would have no control over my wring your neck! Damn you, woman! I so dearly wish you were on my list to assassinate! But he decided she would not get the best of him. "All truth is important, no? Without truth, where are we as a whole? It's necessary to survival, no? How can you say other!"

"I'm glad to see you've become such a disciple of truth." - was that sarcasm? "So please tell me the truth of why you told me that story."

Never explain...

The color raced out of Goupil's face like a frightened child. How could he tell her he needed her approval so he could win the love of the dream girl he met - a very married dream girl at that. He managed only to stammer out some half-hearted philosophy as the souring face of the Ice Queen withered him back into submission. She was simply a target he could not crack, she being one whose bubble would burst only at the moment of undeniable, irreversible damage.

Still humiliated, he recalled her final parting shot to him: "If it's so important to you to get this out perhaps you should start a blog." Then she rapidly blinked and smiled her frozen smile and the memory of it spoiled even the grand sunrise of his Creator which he currently viewed in decreasing joy. If only he could have convinced her of his worthiness his world would be set right. Right?

But the true light in his life was Diana, and as she fed him his first few tastes of tenderness he vowed to honor her to death. Radio songs of love spoke to him with depths of new revelations not ever suspected. Love wasn't just for others now. But it became painfully obvious his words no matter how true would not be believed, that he must prove to her his love. Already he had told her, "I care for you" only to hear her say, "I don't believe you."

Goupil did not understand why words of truth were not enough but what could he do about that? If actions were required he'd perform as required - even if not fully understanding exactly what was being asked. But tragedy invariably seeps into gaps of communication and self-expression was a new endeavor to Goupil, a babe in the woods - with a gun in his hand.

flashback to be continued....