Blinking away tears of fear, Kaitlin clawed her way through the gap in the chain-link fence. One of the wires raked the back of her hand and blood spattered the ground.
She stumbled, sprawled across the sidewalk, ripping her jeans, but she heaved herself up, ignoring the throbbing pain spreading through her left knee as she sprinted on.
As she ran past the edge of the wasteland in front of another row of warehouses, a figure loomed out of a doorway and grabbed her. Kaitlin shrieked. A hand clamped across her mouth, the other hand dragging her into the dark.
‘Keep your mouth shut,’ a woman’s voice hissed. ‘Make any noise and you’re dead.’
Kaitlin struggled, but the grip on her tightened.
‘Relax,’ she breathed in Kaitlin’s ear. ‘I’m a friend.’
The hunting men’s call and response echoed through the night as they pounded along the street. Kaitlin relaxed her body and pressed back against her captor. Right then, it seemed like the only option available to her. She could feel the woman’s heart pounding against her back – she was scared, too.
From the shouts, some of the men turned back, no doubt searching for the women who had escaped whatever terrible fate their captors had had planned for them. One set of footsteps cracked past the doorway, but it didn’t cease, continuing past them.
When the sounds of pursuit had ebbed away, the woman eased Kaitlin out of their hiding place. It was the woman who had followed her out of Starbucks earlier that day. The woman glanced up and down the street to be sure, then thrust Kaitlin towards a beat-up Honda.
‘Who are you?’ Kaitlin whispered, her eyes wide.
‘Not here. They’re not stupid. They’ll retrace their steps searching for you. Get in the back and keep down.’
Kaitlin ripped open the rear door and sprawled across the back seat. The woman pulled away with a screech of tyres.
‘Who were those women? What was all that?’ Kaitlin gasped.
‘Later.’
‘We have to call the cops. They need help.’
‘Call the cops right now and everything that was happening there will move to another location, one we don’t know about. Be patient. I’ll tell you everything you need to know soon enough.’
Twenty minutes later they were seated at a table with a bottle of Budweiser each, in a low-rent bar filled with the vinegar stench of stale beer. The lights were dim, the music loud and the only clientele were a row of men hunched along the counter who looked like they’d given up on life.
‘I need some answers,’ Kaitlin demanded. ‘What was that back there?’
‘You’ll get them.’ The woman pulled back her hood and shook out her hair. ‘Name’s Valarie Vennix. I work on investigations for New York Magazine.’
‘A journalist.’
‘Allegedly.’ Valarie swilled back a mouthful of beer.
Kaitlin noticed she always kept one eye on the door.
‘You could have got yourself killed back there. What were you thinking?’
Good question. What had she been thinking?
‘I’m trying to find—’
‘I know what you’re doing.’ Valarie dipped into her backpack, pulled out a tan envelope and slid it across the table.
‘How? What’s that?’
‘You can try to guess or take a look. I’ll wait.’ Valarie lounged back in her chair.
Kaitlin tore open the envelope. Sheafs of paper slid out; it appeared to be a collection of transcripts and some photos. She looked up with a quizzical expression.
‘Left for you at my reception by a mysterious benefactor who wanted to get them to you quickly. Presumably didn’t know where you were hiding out.’
‘And how did you find me?’ Kaitlin asked, raising her eyebrow.
‘We’re following the same leads, for different reasons. I know Ana. I’ve staked out her place. But to answer your question, I know you through our mutual friend.’
‘The mysterious benefactor?’
‘Well, “friend” is a strong word.’ Valarie smiled. ‘How are you getting your contacts?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Kaitlin feigned dumb. She didn’t want to give too much away, had no idea how much she could trust this woman.
‘Good answer. So, no one told you about Ana Dragov? These crime families take their privacy very seriously.’
‘Crime family?’ Kaitlin felt a pang of unease. If she’d known that going in, she might not have been quite so cavalier. ‘OK. I got a message pointing me in the right direction.’
‘Who gave you the tip?’
‘It was anonymous.’
Now Valarie grinned. ‘This is a great dance. I’m loving it. Shall we call him Dylan? Just … you know … for no reason.’
Kaitlin couldn’t hide her surprise.
‘You know him?’
‘About as much as you do, I bet. The only thing I’m 100 per cent sure is that that’s not his real name. You’re not the only one he’s been helping.’ Valarie sipped another mouthful of beer. ‘It’s good to have someone on the inside, though, isn’t it?’
‘On the inside?’
‘Someone with access to … stuff. Take a closer look at those photographs.’
Kaitlin flipped through the glossy prints, all of them images that seemed to have been taken from a security camera.
‘Th-that’s Maria and Bratva getting off the plane in London.’ She remembered their faces from her online search. ‘Who would have access to an airport security camera?’
‘Dylan seems to.’
Kaitlin skimmed the rest of the photographs.
‘So here, they’re walking through the terminal. That’s Maria kneeling beside the boy, kissing him.’ Kaitlin frowned. ‘Walking away, on her own. Wait … who’s that man she’s talking to?’
‘Dimo Dragov.’
‘Ana’s husband?’
‘Right. I’ve been investigating him for a while and hounding his wife for months. But Ana Dragov won’t talk to anyone. Except, apparently, to you.’
‘I guess that’s because I kind of blackmailed her. I told her I knew where her nephew is.’
‘Wish I’d thought of that. Did she tell you where her husband was?’
‘Away. On business,’ Kaitlin replied sardonically.
‘He’s disappeared. Most likely to Europe. Probably in Bulgaria.’
‘You think he has something to do with Flight 702?’
‘I don’t know. What I do know, though I can’t prove it beyond all doubt, is … Well, you tell me. Do you know what Dragov does?’
‘Well, to some extent. “Business”, according to his wife.’
‘He’s a trafficker. Young women, mostly, from Bulgaria. He brings them over on tourist visas with the promise of work or marriage and then, when they get here, they just … disappear.’
Kaitlin flashed back to the faces of those caged, terrified prisoners in the warehouse basement. She felt queasy.
‘They get drugged, forced into prostitution, then passed around his network of “businesses associates”,’ Valarie continued, her voice growing cold. ‘Washington DC mainly. Playthings for powerful people.’
‘Jesus.’
Valarie’s face hardened. This wasn’t just a story to her.
‘I’m going to nail him. I’m pretty close now. I’ve got quotes from his top lieutenants. Women who told me he interviewed them for jobs as quote, unquote “personal secretaries”. Just a few more pieces of the puzzle and I’ll have him.’
‘I hope you get him, I really do. But what does all this have to do with 702?’
‘How do you think I found out about this whole Bulgarian sex trafficking operation in the first place?’
‘Beats me. How does anyone find out about something like that?’
‘You don’t, unless you’re a customer. Or … unless someone rats them out.’
‘Maria.’
‘Clever girl. Maria was going to whistle-blow to me and share everything she knew about Dragov and his
sick little empire.’
Kaitlin let this information settle on her. Suddenly, she could see all sorts of possibilities that she hadn’t considered before.
‘You think Dragov had something to do with the plane going down?’
Valarie’s eyes flickered towards the door again. Now, Kaitlin could understand the journalist’s permanent state of unease. Criminals like Dragov would go to any length to prevent their secrets from being exposed.
‘I haven’t got any proof of that. But in those photos Maria looked terrified before she left to get on that plane. And she left her kid behind. I mean, that doesn’t sound like someone who feels completely safe to me. My theory? Dragov found out that Maria had betrayed the family and sent someone after her to take care of it in the way that these people take care of snitches. I’ll leave you to speculate on what that has to do with the flight.’
Kaitlin was already speculating about the numerous ways a crime family could bring down a plane. But one other thought was niggling.
‘Why would Dylan choose me to get involved with all this?’
Valarie swilled down the last of her beer. ‘Maybe he saw something in you. Or maybe he just sees you as cannon fodder for whatever he’s trying to achieve. You get cut down by gunfire. Someone smarter and better gets through while the people behind this are distracted.’
What was Dylan’s real agenda? Had she been too naive? Was she putting herself in real danger by following his guidance?
Valarie slammed her glass down on the table and smiled without humour. ‘The bottom line: in the end, we’re all on our own.’
As Kaitlin pondered the dismal message, Valarie stood up.
‘Come on. I’ll drive you back. Where to?’
‘The East Village.’
‘EV it is.’
In the car, Kaitlin watched the lights flash by, but her thoughts were running with those frightened women. She probably wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight for worrying if they’d escaped the men who were pursuing them.
If anything, their plight only strengthened her resolve. Ana had plenty of questions to answer. Kaitlin had to ask them.
Kaitlin looked around the bustling Starbucks, which was just as busy as the last time she was here. Maybe she was still being naive coming back here, but she’d thought long and hard about the information she’d gleaned from Valarie and she’d reached a conclusion, based on logical analysis.
When Ana came in, she marched over to the table and said, ‘I come for address. You have with you?’
Kaitlin steeled herself. This was the moment she’d wrestled with all night. But the desire for answers outweighed her own safety.
‘I know about Dimo’s business.’
Ana showed a blank face. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I met Valarie Vennix. From New York Magazine. She told me some interesting stories.’
‘So what?’ Ana’s eyes narrowed.
‘Where’s your husband?’
‘None of your business.’
‘He was on Flight 702 with Maria, wasn’t he? He was waiting for Maria in London so he could take her right back to New York.’
Not hiding out in Bulgaria. A man like Dragov wouldn’t flee at the first sign of trouble. He had a good life here; an established enterprise that made him rich. And he dealt with powerful people in Washington. He wouldn’t abandon any of that if he could find another way out.
Ana turned up her nose. ‘I don’t know what you talk about.’
‘Sure you do. I got a handle on Maria’s phone records.’
Thank you, Dylan.
‘You know who called her just as she landed in London? It was you.’
Ana stared, not backing down.
‘Why? Was it to warn her?’ Kaitlin leaned across the table. ‘What exactly was Dimo’s plan for Maria when he got her back to New York? Was he going to punish her for betraying him? Maybe … kill her?’
‘You seem to have all the information. Why don’t you tell me?’
‘Maria didn’t abandon her son. She was trying to escape with him, wasn’t she? To give him a better life. Away from Dimo, away from all this. And then—’
‘Listen, stupid girl—’
‘No, you listen! She left Bratva in the airport terminal because she knew he’d have a better chance at a good life than if he stayed with her and faced whatever Dimo was going to do to them.’
Ana’s eyes blazed. ‘You have no idea what you are talking about. My husband was a good man. He took care of his family. My sister was … a disgrace. She think everyone in America have it easy. She think she is judge. Look at her – betraying her own family.’
‘Don’t you care? About what your husband does? That he was going to hurt your own sister?’
About all those poor women?
Kaitlin stood up. ‘I’m … I’m finished here.’
‘Give me the fucking address.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘That’s not your decision.’
‘No. But it was Maria’s.’
‘You will regret this, Kaitlin Le.’
And that was probably the only honest thing Ana had said to her.
Outside, in a bitter wind, Kaitlin pulled out her burner and thumbed a number.
‘I told you to contact me through the app. Only call if it’s an emergency,’ Dylan snapped when he answered.
‘Right. Um …’
He sighed and his voice softened. ‘What do you want?’
‘To thank you for the photos and the phone records.’
‘No need. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for. Anything else?’
Kaitlin swallowed, then blurted, ‘Who are you?’
Silence.
‘Why are you helping me?’
‘I’m just someone who wants to find out what really happened.’
‘Did you know someone on Flight 702?’
‘You don’t believe the bird-strike theory, right? Well, neither do I,’ he replied, ignoring her question.
‘How did you get those CCTV images of Maria?’
‘You can’t ask me that stuff.’
‘Some of this doesn’t make sense. Ana seems pretty sure that Dimo Dragov was on the plane. Why wasn’t he on the passenger list?’
‘Fake passport? It’s easy to do, especially for someone with Dragov’s background.’
‘But Dragov had nothing to do with it,’ Kaitlin replied. She’d thought she was so close. ‘Unless the members of his own gang decided to take him out. That’s a possibility, I suppose.’
‘Exactly. We’ve got to follow every lead. Some of them are going to take us to brick walls. But it’s the only way we’ll find out the truth. And some might initially seem like nothing and then, as more information comes in, they take on a new relevance. Turn over every stone. Study. Record. Keep trying to see the connections. We’ll only know the truth at the end of the line.’
‘So what now?’
‘I’ve got another lead. Really interesting. Suggests a strong reason why the plane might have been diverted. Need to dig deep into it, though, to find out how much is real, how much hearsay. I’ll send a recording to the app. Take a look at it.’
Kaitlin felt that familiar unease tug at her. ‘How do I know that you’re not part of this? A member of Dragov’s crime family trying to throw me off the scent?’
‘I put you on the scent, remember?’ His voice dripped acid. ‘You’ve got to keep thinking clearly, Kaitlin. Don’t worry about Dragov’s people-trafficking trade. Valarie’s like a dog with a bone. She’ll shut it down.’
‘I’m not sure I can trust you.’
‘I don’t have time to reassure you. You can either trust my intel or not.’
She had no choice, did she?
‘Good,’ he said, taking her silence as acceptance. ‘The person you should really be looking into is …’
Kaitlin heard talking in the background.
‘I’ve got to go. I’l
l be in touch.’
‘No!’
The line went dead. A moment later, her phone rang again. She felt relief that Dylan had called back so quickly.
‘Thank you,’ she gushed.
A jumble of discordant sounds crashed.
‘Dylan? Dylan, is that you?’
Kaitlin shivered. Was that shouting? People screaming?
‘Hello? Hello?’
The line went dead once more and this time, no one called back.
Later, in her apartment, Kaitlin’s phone chirped and she felt a rush of warmth when she saw that it was Amelia calling.
‘Babe, just checking in to see how you’re doing,’ her friend said.
Kaitlin closed her eyes and smiled to herself. She couldn’t believe how good it was to hear a friendly voice.
‘Living the life. Thanks for the loan of the apartment.’
‘So, you gone all Veronica Mars yet?’
Kaitlin filled in Amelia on the meeting with Ana and the encounter at the warehouse.
‘Oh my God. Oh. My. God. Kaitlin, what are you doing? What if they’d caught you?’
‘They didn’t.’
‘Yeah, but what if? Mate, you’re not bulletproof. You can’t take risks like that.’
How could she explain to Amelia that she no longer really cared what happened to her, that for a long time now, it had felt like any risk was worth it? She decided against it.
‘Yeah, I know. I learned my lesson,’ she assured her.
‘Wow. I hope those poor women got away. What kind of world are you getting into?’
Kaitlin couldn’t answer that either. She shifted the conversation on to more mundane matters, friends’ relationship issues, Amelia’s pie-in-the-sky plans to get her folks to take her to Barbados for the holidays, schoolwork, anything that took her back to the life she’d once had.
Afterwards, she luxuriated in the commonplace. For the first time, it dawned on her that if she was going to get through all this, she’d need the anchor and the security that Amelia and her family offered. It was time to stop pushing them all away.
Heathrow Medical Screening Facility US Arrivals from the Democratic Republic of Congo – Security Recording
NURSE: According to my thermometer, your temperature is almost 38 degrees. And you’re feeling well?
AMERICAN WOMAN: Mm-hmm.
AMERICAN MAN: She’s fine, yes.
Passenger List Page 4