by Gennita Low
In a twisted sort of way, yes, it made sense. But then, everything in this world was twisted. The talk of friendship and loyalty. The camaraderie between two “blood” brothers, talking about life and sharing locker-room jokes. All this sandwiched between bouts of violence. These were things Hawk valued in his life with his SEAL brothers. Yet now he had to function the same way with his enemies.
It sickened him to see the horrifying similarity from the other side. And now he had to go out and kill in the name of collecting veza. He knew the veneer of humanity was very thin in the war front, and once killing became a cheap thrill, there was very little left to distinguish right from wrong. And those young men riding open shot in the convoys were just going for the cheap thrills of bloody action and quick cash.
Hawk thought of the girl who was so violently raped last night, and the look of anguish and betrayal in Amber’s eyes. He wanted to destroy Dilaver’s network and take out those men one by one, not for the thrill of action, and certainly not for cash. For those girls. And to take away Amber’s pain and grief.
He clung to the image of her crying and aiming a weapon at the group of rapists, and somehow it clicked in his mind that the sight of Amber represented reality to him. She knew and understood the twisted world she was living in was fake, that everything happening around her—the friendships and the bondings—wasn’t real. She had been able to do this for four years and still cried at not being able to help the helpless.
“Besides, I have good reasons to get rid of them,” Dilaver continued. “I want this area under my control.”
The closest city was a few hours drive away. The roads had slowly deteriorated and became more like country paths.
“Why?” Hawk asked the obvious question. There was nothing here.
“You’ll see.”
There was a shout informing them that they were closing in, to get ready for attack. Hawk looked out the window at the pretty countryside, with the shadows and sunlight of dusk settling in, giving it a postcard effect that belied the tragic horrors of war happening in its cities. The truth was hidden in this twisted world.
So what truth was Amber Hutchens hiding? For the first time, Hawk admitted to himself that he wanted to find out because he needed something—someone—solidly real, and not some abstract reason, on which to hang his sanity.
“Ready, Hawk?”
“Ready,” he said, as he watched all the men spill out of the vehicles, scrambling toward the top of the hill. Time to stop thinking.
Hawk jumped off the Humvee, grabbing his weapons in both hands, and not glancing at Dilaver, started running. No use being a sitting duck contemplating about life and death in the vehicle. He’d get himself killed.
The ground under his feet rumbled with the familiar sound of an exploding grenade. Clumps of earth flew up over the crest of the hill. When he reached the top, he went down flat on his stomach and started a belly-crawl. The scene from his vantage point showed a chaotic battle under way. Apparently, the only strategy these guys knew was pretending to be cowboys and Indians. Circle the wagons and make a lot of noise while shooting. He didn’t think Jazz, the co-commander of his SEAL team, and the consummate strategist, would approve. There was nothing to do but aim and shoot as bullets whizzed past.
“Hawk!” Dilaver shouted from behind. He was limping but was still able to keep up with his men. He came up close behind Hawk. “Take a few of my men and circle around to the other side. We’ll cover this side. Once they know they’re surrounded, they’ll surrender.”
“Care to tell me first why this band of brothers is in the middle of nowhere like sitting ducks?” Hawk shouted back.
“They’re guarding territory. And looking for something.”
“What?” Hawk shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll get rid of them and collect my veza points first.”
Dilaver smacked him on the back. “There you go. Now you get how we do business here.”
Hawk studied the area quickly, noting the landscape and impending nightfall. A barrage of RPGs and small arms fire disturbed the air. Hell, he didn’t need anyone to help him. But this was a test of his skill and he wasn’t going to show his hand just yet. After all, he was merely a guide who happened to be in excellent shape, not a mercenary. Or a Navy SEAL.
He signaled to two of Dilaver’s men whom he’d gotten to know. They were the most skilled ones, least likely to get too excited when sneaking up toward the enemy’s rear. For now, he had to view them as part of his team.
“Bring grenades,” he ordered briskly. “We’re going to make a lot of noise.”
Amber closed the container. “That’s it, that’s the last one,” she said. “Do you have the drinks and clothes packed?”
“Yes, and I have the car out back, ready to load.” Lily taped the box she had filled up with clothes. “I think this will be enough for this and the next group.”
The boxes of clothes, food, and amenities were for the young girls they had in hiding in various basements around Velesta. The girls needed a few weeks to recuperate from their injuries. Those who were stronger helped the weaker ones.
Amber stacked the containers near the doorway. “We have to be careful,” she cautioned. “Our groups are getting bigger and we don’t want Dilaver to start getting too suspicious.”
“So it’s good we have your Hawk to tell us he isn’t in town, right? We can do our runs and maybe tell Brad to get in another raid.”
Amber cocked her head. “So are you calling Brad again today?”
“You can.”
“I will, if you’ll tell me what happened last night.”
Lily scowled. “I told you—nothing happened.”
“Right. And that isn’t a hickey on your neck.” Amber grinned when Lily smacked at a certain spot on her neck and made off to the bathroom. There wasn’t any hickey, but she’d tossed the lie out to see how her friend would react. Now she knew for sure that Lily and Brad hadn’t just had dinner.
“Bitch! There’s nothing there!” Lily yelled from the bathroom.
“Of course. Nothing happened, so how could there be any hickey?” Amber laughed when Lily reappeared, her dark eyes flashing threateningly at her. “Ooooh, busted again, huh?”
Her friend made a face at her, running a careless hand through her short tresses. Her gold ear hoops jiggled and glinted against the black hair. Her smile turned rueful. “Oh, okay, so we kissed.” At Amber’s raised eyebrows, she made another face. “Among other things.”
“My, things are progressing between the two of you, aren’t they?” Amber took a bite from a freshly baked cookie.
“Yeah, well, don’t expect it to progress too much,” Lily muttered as she moved some of the boxes.
“Why not? Lily, he likes you. You like him. That’s a good thing.”
Lily looked up. “Since when is getting involved emotionally a good thing when it comes to people like me?”
So that was her problem. Amber finished her cookie, eyeing her friend thoughtfully. “Lily, sometimes the future isn’t so bleak, you know? You don’t have to see yourself as a career criminal for the rest of your life.”
“Right. I don’t go around making illegal art bids and not have a reputation among certain people. And oh yeah, involvement with shady people who run guns, make fake passports, and are basically mercenaries looks so good on my résumé.”
Amber went over to Lily and pulled her by the arms. “Look, I’ve known you for four years and we’re friends, aren’t we? You never did tell me why you chose this lifestyle. You’re beautiful, know enough about art to tell me something about your background, and yet you’re running around with people who are using you to make money. Why?” She gestured with her chin toward the boxes and containers. “I know it has something to do with the girls, but you make it very personal, Lily. You’ve never told me the reason.”
Lily’s eyes met hers for a long time, as if she were considering whether to tell Amber the truth or half of it. “Why are you a contract
agent for the CIA?” she asked quietly. “You hate them.”
“I don’t hate them, hate them. I just know they are users.” Amber released Lily’s arms. “They see me as an asset because I provide them with information they need for their analyses and political games. I see them as a way to help these girls out of this hellhole. I met some of the luckier ones in the States, runaways who had stories to tell and no one who truly cared, and I wanted to make a difference. Throwing money at organizations didn’t seem to help. I know this, I was part of one and all they did was hold fund-raisers and play with numbers to get more funding as the kids became hopelessly lost in the system. So I opted for an unconventional way. You know this. I’ve already told you the story of my life.”
“You have a big heart, Amber,” Lily said quietly. “Don’t your parents miss you?”
“They were missionaries. They know I’m just continuing their job, only in my way. Besides, they’re happily retired now with their own little café in Florida.” Amber missed them, actually. She hadn’t called home for a while now. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want, Lily. I know some of it is too painful for you.”
Amber was, after all, a contract agent. Backgrounds were made up all the time. She had chosen to tell Lily the truth a couple of years ago, when they had become closer friends. Their partnership had started very slowly, when it became obvious Amber needed help. She couldn’t run a CIA front and travel around the region moving girls in and out of hideouts.
“Do you remember how we met?” Lily asked.
Lily Noretski had appeared on a prayer, when Amber had accompanied a businessman to an illegal art auction out of curiosity. After they were introduced, she had dropped by The Last Resort a few times when she was in town. Amber liked her. Lily was eclectic, well traveled, funny as hell, and totally fearless when it came to handling weapons and dangerous situations. Amber had seen it herself one night when they were accosted by some thugs who had thought they had found some candidates for their kafenas.
Together, she and Lily had beaten the crap out of the men. Amber still smiled at that particularly satisfying memory. That had been the beginning of their getting to know each other.
“Let’s see, wasn’t it fighting over some man?” Amber laughed at Lily’s frown.
“Bitch. That’s why we get along so well. Always joking. I guess it’s time to tell you a bit about me.”
Through the years, Amber had discovered that Lily didn’t seem to have anyone. Nor did she want to talk about her own past. It still intrigued Amber how her friend could possibly end up being an expert in the highly secretive world of illegal art. Who trained her about art? And how did she get started? And how did one go about bidding for black market art? Lily was mum about the methods, but obviously her cut was high, since she gave Amber a lot of the cash to pay for information and hideout places.
“I lost a sister this way.” Lily tapped one of the boxes with a foot. “She was kidnapped. My parents didn’t really care, since we didn’t have enough money to support six kids anyway. No one cared, and I was really angry at them. So one day I ran away with a gunrunner who became my boyfriend. He taught me how to use weapons and take care of myself. In fact, he taught me about networking with different groups. I was his…asset, if you know what I mean.”
Amber kept her expression bland. She knew Lily was revealing a lot more between the lines.
“Then I met a businessman who dealt in art, who told me I could be his asset. And he had better clothes, so I left my boyfriend for him.” Lily shrugged. “On to bigger, better crimes. End of story. Sorry you asked?”
“No. Glad. I see now why you get so passionate about the girls.”
“Yes. I hate those bastards that lure and kidnap them,” Lily said fiercely. “And I’ll save as many girls as I can, however long I can.”
“I’m sorry about your sister,” Amber said softly.
“We were very close. I couldn’t save her, but I’ll save the others,” Lily said, then picked up a box. “Ready to load these babies in? We really should get going.”
“Okay. Hey…”
“What?” Lily paused at the back door.
“Brad would understand, you know.”
There was a flash of emotion in Lily’s eyes before her face shuttered. “Would he? And what kind of asset would I be to a career bureaucrat?” she asked before walking out the door.
Amber sighed. Good point. In terms of assets anyway. She picked up a couple of containers and headed after her friend.
They had three safe houses, two in town and one just outside. The girls were moved to the last one just before their long ride out of Macedonia. They were good hiding places. Dilaver would never guess that his missing girls were actually driven into Velesta, the very place to which they were headed.
Now there were a different group of girls—those who had been taken from the raids. They were in worse condition than the ones Lily and her mercenaries had saved while being transported, sometimes needing extreme medical attention.
“When will Tatiana and Alia be able to go?” Lily asked as she started up the car.
“I don’t think they’ll be well enough to make it this trip, Lily. Tatiana really needs to rest. That girl is mentally and physically exhausted.” Tatiana had also not spoken a word since the rescue. The girls who had been with her said she hadn’t for a long time, even when “Papa” hit her many times to make her plead. Amber’s heart broke every time she saw the scars on the girl’s body. “Maybe next trip.”
Amber and Lily had been very careful to transport the girls by different routes so they were harder to trace. Those flying out had to be taught how to use their passports and what exactly to say at different embassies, if they were caught. Those who preferred to return to their homes were accompanied to the farthest train stations possible.
“I hope she makes it, Amber,” Lily said quietly. “She…reminds me of my sister. I would love to get her out of here as quickly as possible, to somewhere safe.”
Amber’s responsibility was to get the girls ready, or as ready as possible; Lily was in charge of transportation. Amber had gone on several of these trips, after shutting the café down for vacation, to learn the different routes and meet the networks involved, and was always amazed at Lily’s many connections.
Veza—who one knew to ease away problems—was the most valuable asset besides cash, and in the world of moving people without papers across borders, one needed to know many people at different levels of government and crime. Sometimes, watching how Lily nimbly navigated her way through them, Amber wondered whether there was any line between the two. Four years of doing this had certainly made her even more cynical.
She touched Lily’s arm comfortingly. She had never lost a sister the way Lily had and could imagine how painful it had to be to see these girls and know her sister had suffered the same fate. “I’ll do my best to get her ready,” she said. Privately, she was worried. The girl wouldn’t talk. How was she going to function among strangers?
By the time they reached the last safe house with the deliveries, it was very late in the afternoon. At every stop, Amber checked on the injured girls while Lily talked to those who were ready to leave with her on the next trip. They restocked the place. Amber gave cash to the caretakers, two nurses who had lost their jobs and families in the Balkan wars.
“You must take more away soon,” one of them told her. “Too many girls.”
Amber nodded. The more they took in, the more dangerous the situation. With Brad’s raids, their numbers had almost tripled, and she couldn’t afford to get anyone else involved in the caretaking. Too many people equaled more risk of being discovered. As it was, three safe houses was pushing it. Brad had offered to bring in international medics, but then that would mean reports would filter out. Their operation wouldn’t be a secret anymore.
“Very soon,” Amber agreed.
Lily burst into the room suddenly. “Amber,” she said, her calm voice contrasti
ng her expressive eyes. “Can we talk?”
Amber nodded to the nurse, who went off with a few of the containers. “What is it?”
“I just got a cell call. Dilaver’s men are attacking one of the gangs that have been seizing his trailers.”
“That means—”
“If Dilaver captures them alive, they’ll tell him about selling the girls to me. They’re mercenaries, without much allegiance.”
“But you’ve been careful. Dilaver wouldn’t be able to trace you.”
“Yes, but it’d interest him to know that it’s a woman who’s setting a price on his trailers,” Lily said. Her movements were very measured as she picked up her jacket from the back of the chair. “I have the location and I need to go there.”
“Why?” Amber frowned. “They’re in the middle of firefight and this guy calls you? Isn’t that a bit odd? And what are you going to do in a battle?”
“I said the mercenaries have some allegiance, didn’t I? The man owed me, so he’s doing me the favor of telling me to run before Dilaver comes after me.” Lily shrugged. “I’m not running. I’m going there to take the mercenaries out myself. That way there’s no chance for Dilaver to interrogate them.”
Amber stepped in front of Lily. “Wait a minute. You’re going there alone to…what…take out a whole gang of mercenaries? Lily, you aren’t the Terminator, you know. You’ll get killed.”
“I can’t let this destroy what we’re doing, Amber. It’s an hour’s drive from here. I can take a chance that they’ll still be at it when I get there. All I need is a few grenades.”
“Lily!” Amber shook her head in disbelief. The image of Lily tossing grenades in her short top and heels was stretching her imagination. But she’d had a gunrunner boyfriend…. “No, no, that’s too damn dangerous. We’ll take the chance that Dilaver—”