The Hunter

by Gennita Low

To her surprise, Hawk showed them a recorder the size of his palm. He hadn’t told her about this. Again, she was struck at how prepared he was for this sort of thing. She exchanged glances with Brad.

  Lily was giving last-minute encouragement to the girls, each in her own language. They were all from different countries and Lily was the only one who understood the cultural horror of so many girls being traded like international souvenirs. Amber had sighed with relief that her friend and Brad had been very cordial with each other. Maybe they had come to some sort of understanding. She had tried to talk to Lily about it, but her friend’s replies had been oddly cool.

  Not that she had spent that much time talking to Lily, Amber acknowledged wryly. She had been kept very busy with Hawk showing up at her place at the oddest hours. Lily must have gotten the clue that she wasn’t alone too much because she had practically been living somewhere else, only showing up during the day to help with plans and business.

  All in all, it had been a heck of a week. She glanced at Hawk again. He was very comfortable with her and her friends, participating in their plans and risking his own cover. Brad would tell her if he’d found anything unusual in Hawk’s background, so she wasn’t worried. But neither was she blind.

  Hawk McMillan was a natural at taking charge, and he did it without ordering anyone about. There was just an air about him that made her feel very safe whenever she was around him. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Maybe it was the way he pointed out alternate ways to do things, giving sound reasons why a direct interview at the kafena would be even more effective as a news story. Or the way he was now handling the two reporters. Without making any verbal threat, he had subtly warned them that he would be paying attention to how they would spin the girls’ tales.

  It dawned on her that he was always searching for weaknesses in any situation and fortifying them before they were exposed by the other side. He had a very indirect approach about it, as shown in the way he maneuvered himself into her secret venture. But it was remarkably effective, as in the way the two reporters in the room were answering all his questions quietly and respectfully, as if his approval were essential.

  She wondered what Brad thought of that. He was watching all this, too, and hadn’t said anything to undermine Hawk. She sensed that he was learning as much as she was about this operative sent in to infiltrate Dilaver’s nest and hunt down some kind of hidden weapon. To do that required a lot of skill. She knew from experience that nobody ever got too close to Dragan Dilaver. That Hawk had succeeded in this feat gave her an idea how really capable he was.

  She approached them and refilled their teacups. “Let me know when you’re ready,” she told them, “so I can go talk to the girls first.”

  “Five minutes,” The bespectacled reporter, Thomas, said.

  “Do we use the girls’ real names, Anna?” Hawk asked, using her assumed ID.

  “First names are fine. It doesn’t matter now that they are free,” she replied.

  Hawk nodded. “I was just thinking about the girls at the kafenas later. They’ll want to use different names.” He glanced at Thomas. “I don’t have to spell out what could happen to them if somehow their pimps find out they gave interviews.”

  Thomas nodded soberly. “Understood. We’ll be very careful.”

  Amber turned and walked to the sofa. She gave Lily a nod. “Five minutes.”

  “Okay.” Lily was holding on to the girls’ hands. “We’re ready.”

  Her friend had lines of tension around her mouth, making her look older. Amber knew she was probably thinking about her lost sister, the one who had gone missing. She joined them on the sofa, giving Kia, the girl next to her, a hug. “If you feel uncomfortable, let me know. I’ll stop the interview. If you don’t understand or need me to translate, just turn to either me or Ludmilla.” They had already briefed the girls about the fake names. “These men will get your stories out in some form of media, maybe even television.”

  The other two girls, Michela and Judi Kay, listened intently, then nodded along with Kia. Amber signaled and Hawk brought the men over. Brad took a seat nearby. The introductions were brief and Thomas explained about the tape recording.

  “Let’s start with telling where you came from and how you were kidnapped,” he said.

  “I’m from Bucharest,” Michela began first in slow, accented English. “I was sixteen when some man approached me and told me he was looking for models to send to America. He said he would take photographs of me and put me in an album with other girls and if I was lucky, I would be picked for magazine covers. Of course I said yes, and he took pictures of me and everything was okay because he gave me money and said he would contact me again. A week later he called and told me to meet him at a café because he had good news. I was very excited. He showed me a contract that I signed and said that I was to bring my passport with me that night so I could fly to Los Angeles. He showed me the plane ticket, so I believed him. When I went to the meeting place, he put me in a car with two other girls. There were two men sitting in front. I noticed there was a plastic divider between the front and the back seats, but I didn’t think much about it because I was so excited. It didn’t take me long to realize we weren’t being taken to the airport. We couldn’t get out because the locks in our doors wouldn’t open.”

  She paused to take a deep breath, a frown creasing her forehead. She looked inquiringly at Amber, chewing on her lower lip.

  Amber nodded back to assure her that she was doing fine, hoping none of her own anger was showing on her face. She had heard versions of this story many times before, and each time it broke her heart. She also knew, from experience, that if she showed how truly upset and angry she was, some of the girls either became too emotional to speak or they shut down entirely. She wanted to help the girls stay as calm as possible for the interview.

  She interjected an explanation to give Michela some time to gather her thoughts. “These men are called impresarios and they are paid about a thousand Euro dollars for each girl they photograph for the album. In turn, the girls are sold for twenty-five hundred Euro dollars to different dealers, depending on where they are heading,” Amber said.

  “So each destination has a different price?” Thomas asked incredulously.

  “The girls are seen as goods and commodities,” Lily said in a low voice. “They’re taken to Bucharest, which is the headquarters for these operations. Then they are marketed to different branches in Moldavia, Ukraine, and Russia as dancers. It’s a legitimate business in Bucharest, by the way, since the authorities there sanction the businesses.”

  “Businesses?” David, the other reporter, prompted.

  “The agencies are legitimate businesses in Bucharest,” Amber said. “The business license costs about twenty-five thousand Euro dollars or the equivalent in deutsche marks.”

  “You’re saying that it’s a legitimate business in which men are sitting around making bids on women being sold as prostitutes,” Thomas said. He shook his head and took a gulp of tea from his cup. “How do you know this?”

  “Because I have sat through such an auction,” Lily said. “It isn’t very different from the slavery sales held in the United States not that long ago, gentlemen.”

  Amber glanced over at Lily. She had never mentioned being at an auction before. She stared straight ahead. Amber could see the tension in her hand that was holding on to Michela. Looking up again, she caught Brad’s hard gaze on Lily.

  “Tell me about yourself now, Judi Kay,” Thomas said gently.

  “I’m from Chisinau, Moldavia,” Judi said. Her father was American and although her vocabulary was limited, she spoke English well. “I was picked up with my two friends after we went to see a movie. The men said they would give us a ride home.” She shrugged. “They took us to Bucharest. I knew we were going to be sold off; my father had told us things like this happen. From Bucharest, they drove us to Turnu-Severin, then we all crossed the border to Serbia, to Belgrade. From there, other men
brought us here to Velesta, Macedonia. There are many girls from Moldavia here, all of them kidnapped and sold, like me.”

  “Did you see your two friends again?”

  She shook her head. “No, they weren’t sold quickly, like me. I heard those who don’t get sold are taken to Turkey.”

  “They are taken through Hungary,” Lily told the reporters. “Hungarian passports are easy to get, about five hundred Euro dollars per fake one.”

  “You appear to be very knowledgeable about these routes, Miss Ludmilla,” Thomas said.

  “I make it my business to know about them. I prefer to get to the girls before they are taken to the brothels and broken,” Lily said calmly.

  “How do you transport them in and out of Macedonia?” David asked.

  “As quietly as possible,” Lily replied, this time with a smile.

  “Not telling, huh?”

  Brad finally spoke up. “We’ve agreed not to go into Ludmilla’s and Anna’s activities because it could jeopardize what they do, David. Your story is going to be on the girls’ plight.”

  “The ladies’ cause would make a great angle to the story,” David pointed out.

  “No, their operation must be kept as quiet as possible or this interview won’t do us any good, gentlemen,” Brad said firmly. “Stick to our agreement.”

  “Okay, okay,” David said, “but you have to agree that showing how these girls were saved would add an exciting element to the story.”

  Amber sat up. “Exciting?” She recalled the girl being raped by a group of men in front of the kafena. Anger seized her insides. “Do you know how exciting it is for these girls to be used by ten or twelve men a day? That they are chained to beds or fed drugs or even beaten if they don’t please their owners? I have several girls upstairs who can’t walk because of their injuries. Do you think their stories would be exciting enough for your article?”

  Thomas held up a hand. “Bad word choice,” he conceded, shooting a warning glance at David. “We’ll do this right, Miss Anna.” He looked at the girls on the couch. “Tell us about the clients. Tell us the things done to you so we can report it in your words.”

  Amber willed herself to relax. If this was tough on her, how much more difficult it must be for the girls to do this. Yet, she noted, it was she and Lily who were expressing anger and bitterness, not Michela or Judi Kay.

  “Our clients are mostly NATO.”

  Thomas’s head jerked sharply. “NATO? As in peacekeepers?”

  The girls nodded. “Yes,” Lily answered for them, sarcasm evident in her flashing eyes. “They are the brothels’ main clientele.”

  “A lot of them?” David asked.

  “Seven out of ten,” Hawk replied from behind them. Like Brad, he had been quietly playing observer. “I know this from being inside the kafenas.”

  David expelled a long breath. “Wow.”

  Lily cocked her head. “Surely you don’t think a uniform or a title would stop a man from going to a whorehouse? They’re the ones with money and a lot of time on their hands.”

  “And NATO officers are from all over, as you know, so you want to add that this is an international problem,” Brad added. “By the time my department goes off to raid these kafenas, they are mostly empty because the pimps have been warned in advance.”

  Thomas nodded again. “We’ll have to be extra careful when we go to a kafena.” He stood up. “I don’t know how to say it without being blunt, but a firsthand account of the business will make the story even more marketable. Michela’s and Judi Kay’s stories are very touching, but even if I took photos of them here in this room, it won’t quite bring across the horror of what happened to them.”

  “You want pictures of battered women, then? Bruises and welts from beatings?” Amber asked. She wanted to shake these two men and yell at them, but part of her understood that they needed the tactile experience to make their story different from a World Health Organization report. The latter had been reporting on these activities for a few years now, but no one had really paid any attention; reports were just that—reports. The emotional pain suffered by these women, the horrific surroundings of their imprisonment, the groups of rowdy men crowding around a naked woman—these things weren’t conveyed through the cold hard facts and numbers.

  “Why don’t you get Tatiana to show them her injuries?” Hawk suddenly said.

  Lily breathed in sharply. “No!”

  “Why not?”

  “Tatiana hasn’t spoken a word since she was brought here,” Amber said, shaking her head at Hawk. “She’s not…exactly friendly to men.”

  “What happened to her?” David asked.

  “She was very, very unlucky,” Judi Kay said. “She fought back and Papa was in a bad mood. He stripped her and made her his personal slave and kept beating her if she didn’t do what he wanted. One time, I saw him give her to a dozen men, who raped her on the pool table. And after that she had to crawl on the floor all night naked because she screamed once.”

  Judi Kay shuddered, closing her eyes. Thomas swallowed hard, taking off his glasses to wipe them.

  “Is Papa the pimp?” David asked.

  “Yes, and his favorite is called Mama. She reports to him. Our Mama was only fourteen years old, but the bitch already knew how to suck up and get favors. That way she gets her own room and cell phone, and she gets to eat three meals a day.”

  David muttered an expletive. “Where the hell is this place? I want to burn it down.”

  “Tetovo,” Judi Kay supplied the name. “Please do it. Kill them all. Help us.”

  “Come with me to the kitchen.”

  Amber started to hear Hawk’s whisper in her ear. When had he come up behind her? She glanced up. “Why?” she mouthed quietly.

  Hawk nodded in the direction of the kitchen again and made his way there. Amber hesitated. She really didn’t want to miss any part of the interview, but Lily and Brad could supply any information the reporters might need. She patted Michela’s hand and whispered in her ear before getting off the sofa. The girl nodded. Amber felt Brad’s gaze following her as she left the room.

  Hawk was waiting for her, a grim look on his face. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Take me to Tatiana.”

  She studied him for a moment. “You don’t even know her. She wouldn’t want to see you anyway. Don’t tell me you’re going to convince her to show those two men her injuries.” She shook her head. “Hawk, she’s in really bad shape.”

  “Take me to her, Amber. I want to ask her one question. If she doesn’t answer me, then I’ll just leave.”

  Lily would never agree. She was very protective of Tatiana. “Hawk, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Please, Amber. This could change everything for the girl.”

  “How?”

  “Trust me.”

  Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes. “You’re being too secretive. Why can’t you tell me now? How do I know what you’re going to ask won’t upset her even more?”

  “You don’t. But if I can convince her to talk to those guys out there, even for five or ten minutes, and show them her condition, it would really prepare them for what they’re getting into when they head for the kafena. Their eyes aren’t open, Amber. You know what I mean.”

  Amber sighed. She did know what Hawk meant. The two men out there were still in reporting mode. They needed a nudge to get them to tell the story the way Amber and Lily wanted them to. A kick in the ass, actually, she corrected. And Tatiana…Tatiana could be the one person to do that.

  “Okay,” she said, “but if you’re wrong, I’ll let Lily beat you up.”

  Hawk’s lips quirked. “Aren’t you going to protect me?”

  “I’m your guide, not your protector,” she told him, taking him by the hand. “Let’s go to Tatiana’s room.”

  Tatiana was sitting by the window in her room, staring out, even though the panes were shuttered. Her crutches were leaning against the wall. She d
idn’t turn around when they entered.

  “Tatiana? It’s me, Amber.” No answer. “I brought a friend. His name is Hawk.”

  Tatiana turned around, her eyes in her thin face widening at the sight of a man in her room. Amber squeezed Hawk’s hand hard, trying to stop his advance.

  “Tetovo,” Hawk said very, very quietly. Tatiana reacted with a jerk of her head. “Just nod your head, Tatiana. Was Papa’s name Sarunas?”

  Tatiana fisted a hand to her misshapen mouth. Her eyes flashed with sudden emotion, then they became dull again. She nodded.

  Hawk took a few careful steps toward the girl. Amber released her hold of him, closely watching Tatiana’s reaction to him. In the few months the girl had spent under their care, she had hardly shown any emotion, even when she was in pain and needed medication. There was always a far-off look in her eyes, as if her body were just a shell and she wasn’t really there. This was the first time Amber had seen Tatiana come to life. And over the name of the brothel Papa.

  “He’s the one? This tall. A scar here. Two tattoos shaped like skulls on his back.” Tatiana nodded again. Hawk knelt down so that they were eye to eye. “Tatiana, I promise you. He can never hurt you again. I killed him not long ago.”

  Amber watched as Tatiana leaned closer to Hawk. Her heart was in her mouth as she watched the girl struggle to speak, as if she had forgotten how to use her tongue. “Are…you…sure?” she managed to croak.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “With a knife during a battle.”

  Tatiana reached out and grasped Hawk’s shoulder. Amber could see her nails digging into his shirt. “Long…fight?” she asked, and her voice was stronger, fiercer.

  “Long. Long and dirty fight.”

  “He suffered? He must suffer first.” The veins on her neck stood out. Her words came in a slow staccato through gritted teeth. “Tell me he died a long painful death.”

  Hawk didn’t move a muscle as she continued holding on to him. “All knife wounds are painful, Tatiana,” he said softly. “He suffered, but not as much as I wish he had, now that I know what he did to you.”