“I buried a kitchen knife in the bastard’s black heart.”
“Bu-but did you not go back to prison?”
Gillian smiled at her and spoke, her voice gentle again. “That’s a rather long story for another time perhaps. But first I must know, do you believe me?”
Tanya reflected a moment and then nodded slowly. “Da.”
“Good. Then you should know that most of the people who helped me find this new and wonderful life are sitting in the next room. I trust them with my life, and you can as well. And if you will trust us all, we may be able to give you your own life back.”
Gillian could almost feel Tanya’s emotional turmoil as fear and disbelief contorted the girl’s features, chased by a flicker of something else — hope. And she watched as hope emerged victorious and Tanya’s chin began to quiver. Fresh tears wet the makeup stains on her face, and Gillian rose from her chair and rounded the table to pull Tanya upright and into her tight embrace. The girl’s body shuddered with silent racking sobs as she clung to Gillian, and the older woman held her close and whispered reassurance that her nightmare might soon be over.
Chapter Four
Kairouz Residence
London, UK
Tanya sat on the sofa beside Gillian, the robe wrapped tightly around her. The others surrounded them in the seating area of the comfortable living room. The girl was calmer now, but still clung to Gillian’s hand. She’d hardly let go of the older woman since they’d come into the room, and every few moments she glanced over as if assuring herself that Gillian was still there. It had been quietly decided that Anna would do the questioning, given Tanya’s recent experience with men.
“What can you tell us about Karina?” Anna asked gently. “Does she work at the club?”
Tanya shook her head. “I… I cannot speak. If they find out, they will hurt my family in Russia.” She shuddered. “These are very bad men with powerful friends.”
“Only if they know,” Anna said, “and right now they think you were taken against your will. The room was obviously under surveillance, and the video will show you fighting Ilya. There will be no point in them harming your family.”
The girl reflected a moment and slowly nodded.
“So please,” Anna said, “tell us about Karina.”
Tanya hesitated, then looked at Gillian, who gave a reassuring nod.
“I… I will try to help, but I do not know much.”
“Good,” Anna said. “Now, how do you know Karina? Does she work at the club?”
Tanya shook her head. “Not yet, but soon, I think. I met her at the boss’s apartment.”
“How long ago?” Anna asked.
“Three days,” Tanya replied.
“Who is this man? What is his name? Where is apartment?” Ilya demanded.
Tanya flinched, earning Ilya a glare from Anna.
Gillian put a protective arm around Tanya’s shoulders. “Gently, Sergeant, gently,” she said to the big Russian.
Ilya nodded. “Forgive me, little Tanya. I did not mean to frighten you, but we are so close, and I must find my Karina.”
Tanya relaxed and nodded. “He calls himself Sergei, but I don’t know if that is true name. I know only that the others call him Boss. And I do not know where apartment is.” She lowered her head. “I am in training. Not trusted to go outside yet. When they move us, we are in closed van or blindfolded, so we have no idea where we are. Until they put me in the club, I did not even know I was in London. This I learn from customers in club.”
“Is the apartment where they hold all the girls?” Anna asked.
Tanya shook her head. “Nyet, not all. When we arrive, we go in place like warehouse. Is big room, but they put us each in small… small… I do not know English word. In Russian is kletka.”
The others looked at Borgdanov. His face was a study in suppressed anger. “Cage,” he translated between clenched teeth.
“Da, cage. But small, like for dog. They tell us we are all bitches, and we live naked in cages until we are properly trained.”
No one spoke. “Bastards,” muttered Alex after a long moment, but words failed the others, for no words could convey their building rage.
Anna recovered first. “So how did you end up in the apartment with Karina?”
“Each time there are new girls, Boss comes to look. They line girls up naked, and Boss picks one he likes to have for a while. He chose me, so they blindfold me and take me to his apartment. There I meet Veronika, who was Boss’s choice from last group. Veronika told me she was there for ten days and told me before her there was Zoya. Zoya taught Veronika all the special sex things Boss likes, then she went back to club because Boss was bored with her. Veronika’s job was to teach me all the things Boss likes then she goes back to club.” Tanya hung her head and continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “Was my job to teach what Boss likes to Karina. But Karina was very… very…” She looked at Borgdanov. “I don’t know English …upornyy.”
“Stubborn,” Borgdanov said.
“Da, stubborn. We must have sex together with boss, but Karina would not do some of the things Boss likes. Then she spit on him and called him pig.” She lowered her head and shuddered. “It was very bad.”
Gillian pulled the girl close and stroked her hair.
“Did he punish her?” Anna asked.
Tanya shook her head. “Not her. Me. And not the Boss. He does not get hands dirty. He just smiled and said, ‘Why, Karina, you are being very unpleasant,’ and then he leaves room. Three men come in and take us to kitchen. Then they… they…” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head again, pressing herself into Gillian.
“I think this is quite enough,” Gillian said. “Let her rest.”
“NO!” Tanya said, straightening in Gillian’s embrace and looking the older woman in the eye. “You were strong. I will be strong. Like you,… and like Karina.”
Tanya let go of Gillian and took a sip of tea from a cup on the coffee table in front of her. But she was still trembling, and the cup rattled on the saucer when she set it down.
“They do nothing to leave marks, because customers do not like to see bruises. But they shocked me with elektricheskiy wires here” — she motioned to her breasts — “and… and… between my legs. Then they held me down and put towel on my face and poured water on it until I cannot breathe and pass out. Then they wake me up and do again, many times.”
“But why torture you to punish Karina?” Dugan asked.
“I think because they know she is very upornyy …stubborn, and will endure much herself. But they know also her heart is good, and to be the cause of pain to others is maybe worse for her than to take the pain herself. So while they do all these things to me, they make her watch and tell her to watch well, because this will soon happen to her sisters.” Tanya paused and hung her head. “And the next day, Karina does everything the boss wants.”
Ilya Denosovitch bolted upright and moved to the far side of the room, turning his face from the others. They watched his back in stunned silence as he clenched and unclenched his fists, struggling to control himself. When he turned, a single tear ran down his cheek, but his face was otherwise composed. His voice was full of quiet menace.
“When I catch these fuckers, they will beg for death.”
Borgdanov rose and walked over to Denosovitch. He put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Da, tovarishch. But you must not be greedy. There are enough of them for both of us, I think.”
“Unfortunately, I think there are many more than enough,” Anna said, “and they’re now alerted to the fact that someone is watching them. We have to consider their probable reaction.”
“Seems to me we still have the advantage,” Dugan said. “They know some strange men abducted one of their girls, but they won’t really know why. And even if they have me on the video asking about Karina, I never used her name, so there won’t be any connec…”
Dugan trailed off mid-sentence to reach into
his coat pocket. He blanched.
“What is it, Tom?” Anna asked.
“Karina’s picture. I had it in my hand when the goon burst in the door. I thought I’d slipped it back into my pocket, but I must have dropped it.”
Arsov’s Apartment
London, UK
Sergei Arsov stared at the picture, then tossed it on the coffee table in front of him.
“It’s Karina. No doubt there. Now why do you suppose an American and two Russian military types are interested in our little Karina? And why would anyone be stupid enough to steal one of our girls?”
Across from him, Nazarov shrugged. “I don’t know, Boss. Maybe someone is trying to move in on us. We are not the only organization.”
Arsov shook his head. “I don’t think any of our competitors would use an American, especially not an amateur like this fellow. The Russians are a different story. From the way the one held the gun and the way the other took care of Yuri, I think they are ex-Spetsnaz for sure.” His face clouded. “Of course, if you hadn’t let them waltz out of our club with the girl, we could question them directly.”
“I… I had no choice. It happened very fast, and Yuri was the only one in the office with me. I called the boys from the front, but by the time they got back it was too late.”
“And I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you to defend our property? You were armed, were you not?” Arsov asked.
“Yes, but there were three of them and…”
“One of whom was lying on the floor, and the other two with apparently one gun between them. Hardly a formidable force, Nazarov.”
Nazarov opened his mouth to protest further, but Arsov cut him off.
“Enough. Excuses get us nowhere. We must decide what to do about this.”
“What if Tanya talks?” Nazarov asked.
Arsov shrugged. “To who will she talk? The men who took her are obviously not police, and even if they take her to the police, what can she say? The sex trade is not illegal in the UK. She is over eighteen, and we have a video tape of her describing how she loves being a whore and all the money she makes, and she hardly looks unwilling in the porn we shot. Her training is not complete, but I believe she understands what will happen to her family if she betrays us, but even if she does, it is her word against ours, and we have very good lawyers.”
Nazarov nodded.
“No,” Arsov said, “I’m not worried about the police. I want to find out about these stupid assholes who took our property. Go back to the club and check the security tapes again to try to figure out as much as you can about this American. Be sure to check the tapes for the street in front of the club, and see if you can determine how he arrived. If it was by car, perhaps we can get a license plate number and backtrack that.”
Nazarov nodded but didn’t move.
“Don’t just sit there. Get moving.”
“We have another problem,” Nazarov said.
Arsov sighed — nothing but problems with this bastard. He silently vowed to bring Beria to London at the first opportunity.
“What is it now, Nazarov?”
“Our man in the US contacted me. His mole in ICE informed him that the US authorities know about the drug shipment on the Igor Varaksin. They plan to raid the vessel when she docks in Savannah.”
Arsov glared. “Which means you may have a mole here as well.”
“Not necessarily. The leak could have come from St. Petersburg. I cannot be held responsible for areas beyond my control.”
Arsov just stared at his subordinate. Nazarov finally broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Wh… what do you want me to do?”
“What can we do? We have no choice but to jettison the container, and I assure you our superiors in St. Petersburg will not be pleased.”
Nazarov rose. “I will notify the captain,” he said and moved toward the door. Halfway there he turned back to Arsov.
“What about the security video?” He pointed to the open laptop on the coffee table.
“Leave that with me,” Arsov said. “I’ll share it with little Karina and see if she knows any of these men so eager to find her.”
***
Arsov motioned Karina to the couch and patted the seat beside him.
“What is it?” Karina asked as she sat down beside him. There was a laptop open on the coffee table in front of them.
“I have a little video I’d like to watch, my dear.” He reached over and clicked the mouse.
A poor-quality video appeared, showing Tanya in a room with an American. The American was trying to get her to look at something, but Tanya was resisting. Suddenly things began to move very fast, and Yuri burst into the room, and then two other large men and — Uncle Ilya! Karina gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth as she watched the remaining seconds before the screen blanked.
“Obviously you recognize one of our countrymen. Please tell me who he is and why these three men are looking for you.”
“No, I was just startled and afraid they would hurt poor Tanya. Why do you suppose they took her? Did you get her back?”
Arsov smiled. This was a smart one, trying to deflect his question with a discussion of Tanya. He almost regretted what he had to do. Almost. He shrugged.
“I know you will never tell me voluntarily, and I admire you for it. But your obstinacy does become tedious at times.”
At the snap of Arsov’s fingers, two large men appeared in the doorway.
“Water-board her until she talks. Do it in the guest bathroom and try not to make too much of a mess this time.”
Container Ship Igor Varaksin
En route to Savannah, Georgia
The captain stood on the starboard bridge wing, peering out over the wind dodger at the sea ahead. The blue skies and moderate swells were hardly the weather associated with losing a container at sea, and he worried how he’d explain the loss when the authorities boarded in Savannah — a story of a ‘rogue wave’ perhaps?
The other officers would be no problem, of course. Like him, they were in on the plan. But he’d have to spread a great deal of money around to buy the unlicensed crew’s silence and rehearse them thoroughly. Even then, he doubted he’d fool the authorities, but neither would there be proof to the contrary. He allowed himself a grim smile — innocent until proven guilty — a wonderful concept for those in his current profession.
None of the officers were smugglers by choice, and all had resisted initially, but when the third officer and his entire family were brutally murdered in St. Petersburg, the message was clear — cooperate or else. The captain sighed. They were all just unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The wrong place was a ship trading regularly into Savannah, Georgia, and the wrong time was when the Bratstvo was in need of ‘mules’ to bring their drugs into the lucrative US market. Savannah had been a natural choice — a smaller port with less enforcement presence than the much busier ports of the Northeast, and none of the extensive US Navy presence of Norfolk or Charleston. For even though the Cold War was long ended, Russian merchant vessels near US Navy facilities still received more than their fair share of scrutiny.
It had begun five long years ago, and accommodating the odd ‘special cargo’ was now routine, their consciences salved somewhat by large cash bonuses delivered personally to their homes by very dangerous-looking men — the very act of payment a tacit reminder of both the carrot and the stick. At least things had been routine, until this morning. The voice on the sat phone was emphatic, the container must be jettisoned, and the captain had set the long-planned but never executed operation in motion.
As usual, the ‘special cargo’ was in a twenty-foot container in the outermost top tier on the starboard side, near the flare of the bow — a spot chosen with care, where the containers were secured with twist locks and not tie rods. He watched as the first officer directed sailors releasing the twist locks and the chief engineer directed the placement of tough but thin rubber air bladders into the narrow s
pace between the ‘special cargo’ container and the box below it. All the bladders were positioned on the inboard side of the container, so that when inflated, they would tip the container outboard, toward the side of the vessel.
The men finished their tasks and began to scramble out of harm’s way, just as the radio on the captain’s belt squawked.
“First officer to bridge.”
“Da. This is bridge. Go ahead,” the captain said.
“We are finished, and all men are clear.”
“Good! Spasibo, Mr. Ivanov. Chief, do you copy?” the captain asked into the radio.
“Da, Captain. I am here,” the chief engineer replied.
“Very well,” the captain said. “Begin inflating.”
He was answered by the hiss of air rushing through hoses, followed shortly thereafter by the distant sound of an air compressor cycling on. He watched in silence as the inside edge of the ‘special cargo’ container rose slowly into the air and the container tipped outward toward the starboard side. After a long ten minutes, progress stopped with the container at an odd angle. The captain keyed the mike on his radio.
“Chief, do you copy? What is the problem?”
“The bags will only lift seven hundred and fifty millimeters, Captain. I think we have hit the limit, and it is not enough to tip the container over. I can shore the container up with wood and reposition the bladders, but it will take some time.”
The captain thought a moment and looked out at the sea around the ship.
“Let me try something first,” the captain said into the radio as he moved into the wheelhouse. “It may take a moment. Make sure everyone stays well clear of the container.”
“Understood,” the chief replied.
“Put steering on hand,” the captain ordered the helmsman, then glanced once again at the sea. A southerly wind was generating a moderate swell, striking the ship almost broad on the port beam, inducing a slight but gentle roll.
“Steering is on hand, Captain,” the helmsman said.
“Very well. Five degrees right rudder,” the captain said, and the helmsman confirmed the order and turned the wheel.
Deadly Crossing (Tom Dugan 2) Page 5