Silk Road

by Lynda Filler

  Luci turned on the latest miniature anti-listening device correctly assuming that their rental vehicle was wired for voice. They expected surveillance in all aspects of their trip and prepared accordingly.

  Luke played Vivaldi on his computer. Between arias, they fine-tuned their plan.

  They pulled into a rather tired looking turn-of-the-century hotel. Luci could see that at one time the property was both luxurious and decadent. She could imagine elegant parties and flowing champagne. Even though the paint was peeling and there was no music, it somehow reminded her of the Katching Kitten Ball in Versailles in Paris.

  At eleven pm all lights were extinguished in their once-elegant two-bedroom suite. David hacked into the outdated security system in the back office rendering all alarms inactive. They left soft music playing on an old-fashioned radio while they set about scrubbing fingerprints from every surface in the rooms.

  At one-thirty am they made their way down five flights of stairs and exited at the side of the once majestic and now forlorn building. The watchers were focused on the front of the hotel, their efforts casual at best. They smoked cigarettes, drank from a shared bottle of vodka and listened to the radio. Raven’s team kept close to the brick walls of the service alley behind the hotel, easily avoiding detection.

  At the next corner, a fifteen-year-old Lada sat idling. The passenger door swung open, and Raven took the front seat. No interior vehicle lights came on. They left no detail to chance. There was no need to alert anyone up at this time of night in this cold and barren neighborhood.

  “Meet Abram. He’s a friend of a friend. He knows this area and has offered his services. He’s undercover Interpol.” Luci never liked to put any control in the hands of others, but this was a last-minute plan, and she’d have to trust Raven’s contacts.

  “Luci. Relax. Think of a friend who once helped a woman on the run with her daughter.”

  Luci smiled and nodded. Himanish was always looking out for her.

  Abram put his car into gear and moved along the back alleys until he was far away from the city center.

  “I’ve filled him in on your suspicions.”

  “Look, I’m here to get info on drug-trafficking, but I’ve heard about the missing children. Unfortunately, I can’t break my cover to go full-on Rambo with you guys. Have you heard of a guy name Ivanov?”

  “We’ve come across him in our travels,” Luci smirked.

  “Well, he’s the head of the mafia who control this city, hell, this country. Nothing happens without his approval. I’ve heard rumors that they’ve found a new way to smuggle illicit cargo into Europe. No one’s talking, but in the past, they kept getting busted moving through the border checkpoints. The closer they got to their destination, the riskier it became. I understand they lost a huge Afghani shipment last month. Value over a million.”

  “What do you hear about the Silk Road?”

  “The old trading route or the new one?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “Well, the original route took you through the mountains, up along the valley trails where the herds moved to feed in the summer months. I mean, we’re talking a very long journey if they are planning on taking that route.”

  “And the new one?”

  “That’s interesting. I might have overheard something in the café the other day. It didn’t mean much to me. I didn’t know the people involved. I’ve got a strict mandate here. But the new freight train does run through Bishkek. I doubt it stops for any reason. We’ve got nothing to upload or download from here. The train has made several trips since it went into service a few months ago. I hear there’s a challenge in Russia because they have to move the cars manually. The rails aren’t the same size to easily transfer. The freight cars built and operated in China, have different specs. The trip is fast though. Half the time of maritime shipping, so the costs are lower which makes it feasible to ship cheaper Chinese-made products into Europe. But, you’re talking about human trafficking. This service is container loads only.”

  No one responded.

  The old car engine moaned along a once-new now potholed highway.

  Abram raised an eyebrow. “You think that’s possible.”

  “Our intel states the train will go through here at 4:00 am. And the trail led us to this city. It would only take fifteen minutes tops to upload the cargo. It’s quicker to load people than crates of goods. We will be there to prevent it.”

  “Sure, no problem. I’ll get you to the only place it could stop if it were taking on cargo.”

  Abram turned up the heater to full volume, but it wasn’t doing much good.

  “Anyone want some cheap Russian vodka? It’s going to get very cold the next couple of hours while we wait.”

  26

  Washington, DC

  I t was a night like any other, except four heavily armed men in civilian clothing and one petite Caucasian woman sat around a kitchen table in the Northwest part of Washington, DC. “The purpose of this meeting is to plan an unsanctioned mission on American soil.”

  The silences were filled with the screech of above ground commuter trains keeping a schedule for a city that never sleeps.

  “I don’t know how much you guys know about Washington but let me fill you in on the reality. The nations’ capital boasts a dichotomy of a successful, driven wealthy class living in luxury juxtaposed against a backdrop of some of the most impoverished areas in the entire United States of America.”

  Zach took a sip of his coffee.

  “At one time the US was considered a melting pot. But the last decade has proven that assimilation was a buzzword thought up by think tanks that didn’t want their nations’ dirty laundry available for the world to see. Unfortunately, with the openness created by the internet, there’s no longer anywhere for the nation’s capital to hide. The ugly underbelly of America, its racism, sexism, poverty and the erosion of the middle class, is available front row center for the world to see.”

  Mike sighed deeply, his forehead edged in wrinkles acquired in the last twenty-four hours.

  “People no longer fight as a nation to create unions for equal rights for the worker. Instead, they lobby to take away rights, to take the country back into poverty not forwards. But I don’t want to get into a political discussion. When we were all active soldiers, we went with whatever administration was voted to run the country. And we lived and died with the consequences.”

  Every military guy had lost someone close to him in battle. They nodded thinking about the sacrifices the boys made every day they put on the uniform.

  “Tonight, is no longer about talking. It’s time to take action. We’re going to do something that is totally off-the-books. We’re going to operate outside the law in a first world nation. “Zach stopped and waited for a reaction from their two buddies.

  “Mike and I are in no matter what. But it’s personal for us; it’s Mikes grandson and Katie’s boy.”

  Two former SEALs looked Zach and then Mike in the eye and nodded. “We’re in.”

  “Okay, so here’s what we have. Washington, DC, has the highest rate of sexual exploitation of children in the entire USA. Human trafficker’s prey on the homeless, they prey on low-income children, they prey on runaways, and they find their victims in our malls, on the streets, and online.”

  Zach stopped while the team thought about the situation.

  “I have my sources outside the country. And let’s say their information rivals anything that NSA can come up with.”

  Zach looked at Katie to be sure she was okay. She gave him a weak smile and looked at the assembled warriors.

  “The police commander, leader of the Youth and Family Services division, stated that they have no reason to believe that the disappearance of young women in large numbers is being preyed upon by human traffickers. But the Free Thought Project points out that some of these traffickers have already been caught in DC, and some of them have been cops.”

  Four warriors and one woman r
emained silent.

  “We’ve got corruption in those charged to ‘protect and serve.’ And if you need to see proof, I’ve got intel from a very reliable source. But I know this is a big step for you guys to take. If we’re caught, we could be heroes or villains, but the military will sanction us. Take away our pensions. But, because the system is corrupt, we need your help. We can’t trust anyone. This problem is too big.”

  Zach continued. “So, let’s get to it. One of the big abusers is an online advertising magazine called BackStage.Com. I got to see a classified file from a friend of a friend involved in a government task force. When corruption is amongst the ranks, it’s a lot like the military, they want to keep the intel top-secret. Here’s one of the things she showed me. A police officer was exposed by the Free Thought Project for running a child sex ring right out of his apartment. He was taking naked photos of girls, advertising them on this website, and prostituting them. Most were lured into this from online websites like Facebook, or they were runaways. But it’s not all girls, it’s boys, it’s transgender kids, it’s migrant workers, immigrants. The marginalized and vulnerable. And here’s the zinger part.”

  Katie got up to get a glass of water. No one spoke.

  “They can’t close the website down!”

  “What do you mean? Aren’t they aiding in the solicitation of illegal acts with minors?”

  “Yes, they are. And no doubt there’s financial gain for these executives to do so. But this is America. The battle is being fought in the courts. And while it’s in the courts—and you know how long that can take—the website remains open.” Nobody moved. Their body language said it all.

  “Now here’s what we’re going to do.”

  27

  Kyrgyzstan, Central Asia

  T hey set up along the tracks far away from where the workers would load the freight, yet close enough to observe the activity. The freight tracks were quiet, and very few workers were in attendance. The bitter north winds howled through the town. They are grateful for Abram’s vodka.

  Luke, Luci, and David double-checked their weapons. Their Interpol operative kept a low profile. He was only available for back-up if things got out of control. The team had no idea how many of Ivanov’s men they would encounter. Their intel was almost non-existent. But RB was able to identify anomalies from the satellite photos of the shipyards in Dalian, China. And the Kyrgyzstan mafia was definitely involved. Bishkek was their headquarters. Luke explained what he knew on the drive from their hotel.

  “This city had always been a stop along a route that was once known as the Silk Road. Trade flourished between China and Europe, bringing silks, spices, Chinese porcelain and even gunpowder from the East.”

  Luci was familiar with the history from her education in the British university.

  “The current Silk Road train to London consists of thirty-four containers holding clothing, baby products, socks, medical supplies, and various other inexpensive products. The new train route has the advantage of time and cost. It’s faster and cheaper than the old maritime routes. It makes sense now to ship smaller lots of less expensive merchandise thus increasing trade for China in the markets in Europe, Asia, and Russia.”

  David spoke up. “China must have figured that with the current political climate, their trade agreements with the US could be canceled at any time.”

  “Exactly,” Luke added

  “The last two years were tumultuous within the American political system. China was determined to replace the US markets if needed and the train project was a huge step in that direction. The new Silk Road will become the norm, bypassing traditional spot checks due to the packing/customs process at the Chinese docks in Yiwu.”

  Luke kept his voice low and whispered to David.

  “Yes. It opens endless possibilities. And China has the money, the labor force and the motivation to make it financially viable. This is not the first run, by the way. The initial route has been operating for several months. But the additional container number 7747 is new.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?” their Interpol contact requested.

  Raven’s phone vibrated.

  He looked at the code that showed up on the screen.

  “Yes? What’s up?”

  He listened, but the sound of the freight train rumbling along the track made it difficult to hear.

  “Say again.”

  The train blew through Kyrgyzstan without stopping.

  They returned to their vehicle, confused.

  “RB said they brought in satellite imagery and used the latest technology developed by the boys at MIT. It’s exploratory, but they can see into the core of the container. It’s been modified, but the interior is dense with medical product. They’ve done the measurements, and there’s no way anything human could fit in container 7747 that left from Yiwu destination Barking, England.”

  Luke kept speaking.

  “They’re missing something! I can feel it.”

  “What do we do now?”

  Suddenly, the place was flooded with light! Voices screamed out in Russian to put their weapons down and surrender to the authorities.

  “Luci, plan B.”

  “Got it. Follow my lead Interpol boy.”

  Luci dislodged objects carefully attached along the barrel of her UZI. The others followed suit. “On three!”

  They tossed their flash grenades in all directions. The surrounding welcome party was caught off-guard. Smoke clouded the Raven Group position, so they could immediately begin firing from where they last saw their targets. Luci felt no remorse as she fired upon the ex KGB and Spec Ops boys who controlled all illegal activity in Bishkek.

  Suddenly someone hit Luci from behind. She turned, pushed into her attacker and high kicked him in the groin. But he was ready for her moves and grabbed her foot before she could make contact. She allowed her body to fall into her assailant, whose voice she recognized from Malé and then used gravity to overwhelm her victim. Her deadly Krav Maga skills downed her opponent in minutes. Luke was breathing heavy, but the body on the ground and another hanging over an old Russian vehicle attested to his superb skills and calm demeanor.

  “Those we didn’t get, fled. But the criminals will be back with reinforcements.”

  “Let’s move out fast before others join in the cleanup.” Abram grabbed some weapons off dead bodies and rushed uphill to get into the drivers’ seat.

  “So much for my cover. I guess I’m with you until we exit the country.”

  “No problem.”

  “Do you think they’re watching our plane, David?”

  “Yes. My remote viewing shows only two guys though. Easy.”

  Within minutes they were in a hastily expropriated vehicle, not likely to be stopped with its Russian red army insignia on the door. Abram left a surprise in his old car for whichever lucky guy dared to open the door. He couldn’t take a chance on having his fingerprints lifted off the vehicle. His boss would concur.

  Within twenty minutes they swung onto the tarmac and raced towards their plane.

  It was dark, but the first guard was smoking a cigarette. Big mistake. Luci shot him before he could raise his weapon. Luke caught the other in an artery on his neck. He had a flashback to his wolf-stalking days growing up in New Mexico. With all his billions he was a cowboy at heart.

  “Abram, want to fly with us?”

  “You got it, boss. My cover's blown here.”

  Within ten minutes their STOL jet cleared the Air Traffic Control tower and headed west towards Europe.

  28

  Kazakhstan, Central Asia

  S everal khaki painted Russian ATV trucks repurposed from the military were now provisioned to transport ten adults or fifteen tightly packed children. They left the first buses at a cabin to be picked up by local thugs. They lumbered up mountain passes and down valley corridors. Brutal winds roared from snow-covered peaks, some of the tallest mountains in the world. Traders had been taking this route for centu
ries. They were on a maiden voyage carrying a different type of merchandise—human. The convoy was scheduled to meet up with their Russian counterparts in Kazakhstan.

  The children rarely complained. There was no purpose. Besides that, they were too cold to talk. There was also no resistance from the other passengers. They’d accepted their fate over the last month.

  “Come closer. My body heat will help keep the cold out. I’m sure it won’t be long now.” Zaria whispered to the children aware that they didn’t want to draw attention to the heavily armed guards.

  The occasional herd of goats forced the trucks to slow down, but other than a Yurt or the odd herders, the land was uninhabited and freezing cold.

  Rations were passed around to the occupants of the covered vehicles. Some whimpered in their sleep, others remained alert like soldiers with PTSD recently returned from war. But all were awakened to eat. Without nourishment, they would be susceptible to frostbite, illness, or dehydration on their journey, and that was unacceptable to their greedy captors.

  With the children finally asleep, Zaria pulled out her map of Eastern Europe. She could tell by the position of the overcast sun that they were moving westward. Zaria estimated they were close to or over the border of Kazakhstan. Although she had memorized the map years ago, she still loved to look and see how far she was from the vast open waters of the sea.

  The last few days had been a flurry of activity in the jail. From what she’d overheard, there was a concern for a visiting team of investors. The crime boss was a cautious man. He insisted they be moved earlier than the schedule, but that meant they could go slower and hopefully avoid unnecessary losses to their lucrative cargo.

  She glanced down at her map again, her finger following the Marco Polo trades routes towards the West that she’d studied in school, she could see that they too, were making a parallel journey.