by Beth Abbott
“We’re not exactly stopping.” Hollywood pointed at the GPS unit. “That thing has just instructed us to turn off at the next intersection.”
“But it’s a straight road between Istanbul and Sofia.” Kellen frowned. “I mean, literally. A straight road. The A1.”
“We’re not going to Sofia now. There’s been a change of plan.” Niko looked back, and Kellen noticed how pale she was.
Damn Hollywood and his sanctimonious bullshit.
“Where are we heading now?” He asked Niko, knowing she would be the one who had all the answers.
“We’re heading north into Romania.” She explained. “Ilya has some business he needs to take care of near Bucharest, so we’ll stop there tonight before getting back on track tomorrow.”
“What business does Ilya have in Bucharest?” Hollywood asked, causing Kellen to frown at him.
“Business that is none of yours.” Niko snapped. “You’re here to drive and watch that nothing happens to the cargo. You’re not here to ask questions, and you’re certainly not here to challenge the orders you’re given. Or did you forget your place in the grand scheme of things?”
Kellen held his breath, waiting for Hollywood’s response. His friend wasn’t used to being put in his place by a woman.
“It was just idle curiosity.” Hollywood shrugged, shaking off the rise in tension as though it was a layer of mist. “You just keep pointing in the direction you want us to go in, and I’ll keep driving the truck.”
“Will the food be any better when we stop?” Kellen grinned at Niko. “Those kebabs this morning smelled like dogshit.”
“I very much doubt there will be any food when we arrive unless Drago has been instructed to call ahead.” Niko shook her head. “And the chances of that happening are slim to nil, considering the mood Ilya was in when we left this morning. I’d arranged for everything to be in Sofia for our arrival. All we’ll have when we get to Bucharest is whatever rations we’ve got in the vans for tomorrow’s breakfast.”
“What normally happens when plans change like this?” Kellen asked. “Obviously, people need to eat.”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” Niko shrugged. “We’ve never changed plans at the last minute like this before. Sure, we change routes all the time, but each change is planned at least a week or more ahead. Nothing Ilya does is random like this. It’s always carefully scripted.”
“How about if we call for take-out when we get there? Would he pay for that?” Hollywood suggested.
Niko turned to look at him as if he’d gone mad.
“Firstly, there are about a hundred and fifty people who need feeding. Do you seriously think my brother will happily pay for take-out for that many?” Niko asked. “Then there’s the question of where we’re going to be. I doubt if there are many places on the outskirts of Bucharest that will take an order of food for a hundred and fifty people ‘to go’. And finally, there’s the obvious point that we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile. Calling in at a McDonald’s drive-thru and asking for a hundred and fifty meals is not going to pass unnoticed.”
Kellen could feel his stomach contracting as he pondered the idea of having no food tonight, then realised that if there was nothing for the adults, there would be nothing for Roman, either.
“I have my candy supply, if you want something for Roman.” He offered.
Niko turned and smiled at him.
“Thanks, but if it comes to it, I have some cereal bars in my pack.” She pointed to a rucksack. “They’re meant to be a treat, but they’re filling at least. Roman can survive for one night.”
“Will we be stopping between now and Bucharest?” Hollywood asked. “A comfort break, maybe?”
“I’m not sure, but if we are, then it’ll likely be a remote rest area.” She grimaced. “Those places have a bathroom if you’re lucky, and sometimes a gas station, but little else. That’s why Ilya chooses them.”
“Where there’s a gas station, there’ll be food of some sort.” Hollywood suggested.
“We’ll see.” Niko shrugged. “But when we arrive in Bucharest, if there’s no food for the men, then there’ll be no food for the women either. And they can’t exactly go and source their own.”
Kellen looked at Niko’s worried expression.
Yeah, maybe they’d need to stand right behind her when she dropped the ‘no food’ bombshell on Ilya and his thugs. It would give her a better chance of walking away from the announcement alive.
Chapter 41 – Drago
Drago had never considered himself a religious man, but he’d prayed more in the last few hours than ever in his life.
But then, being driven around at over a hundred miles an hour by a lunatic, high as fuck on coke, and in the middle of the tantrum to end all tantrums would probably have the most ardent atheist reaching for his rosary and prayer book.
‘Dear God, if I die today, please forgive me for my sins, but, more importantly, can you make sure the sonuvabitch sitting next to me dies first?’
Drago wasn’t exactly sure that God had ever heard quite such a plea before, so he was hoping he’d get points for originality, at least.
“Ilya, there’s a police checkpoint coming up.” Drago studied the screen on his phone. “It’s one of those hidden ones, so you might want to slow down a little. You don’t want to get pulled over and not make it to the rendezvous later.”
Drago stared out in front of him, looking out for a checkpoint. He wasn’t worried that the car would be recognised, as they changed the license plates almost daily, replacing them with other plates that genuinely belonged to black Mercedes of the same model. But their speed was gonna get them flagged.
“Seriously, man, if you plan on making the exchange tonight, you’d better slow down, because I don’t think the cops are going to let you off with a warning when they spot that not only were you driving at over a hundred miles an hour, but that you’re also shit-faced on cocaine.” Drago’s nails were digging into the leather seat, as the engine whined at such high speed he thought it was going to explode.
Eventually, Drago’s words must have registered, because suddenly the harsh, high-pitched whining started to quieten, and Drago’s body was no longer pinned back in his seat by the G-force.
He glanced over and watched the needle on the dash drop below the hundred, and then below ninety, until it actually felt like they were crawling along.
“Better?” Ilya sneered at him.
“Eighty-five is good, man.” Drago grinned. “It’s what everyone else is doing anyway, so you won’t stand out.”
“Happy to oblige.” Ilya sounded anything but.
“What time is the meeting with your buyer?” Drago asked, casually. Ilya was starting to do business in the big league, and the sort of people he was dealing with made Drago more than a little nervous.
“Seven o’clock.” Ilya replied distractedly. “About a mile from the warehouse where the trucks will be parked up overnight. Why?”
“Just wondering how many men you want to take with you for protection.” Drago shrugged.
Ilya scratched his head.
“Ten visible.” He suggested. “The others can stay in the vans just out of sight.”
“Ok. I’ll pick the best ones as soon as they get to the warehouse.” Drago nodded. “They can come in with us as back-up, and the rest can wait outside with the vehicles. We won’t need to take all the vans with us, though. They’ll fit into three or four, which will make them easier to keep out of sight.”
Ilya’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket.
“Humph.” He looked at the screen. “It’s a message from Niko. You deal with it.”
Drago took the phone, opened up the screen and clicked on the message alert.
“Have you arranged food for everyone for when we arrive in Bucharest?” He read out, glancing up at Ilya. “Have you?”
Ilya looked at Drago as though he was crazy.
“Is that my job too?” He his
sed. “Do I have to do everything?”
“Ilya, you changed the location of the drop at the last minute, so I assumed that you’d made all the plans.” Drago frowned. “Between us, Niko and I arranged for everything, including the food, to be waiting for us in Sofia, Belgrade, and then in Zagreb, but now that’s all going to go to waste. We’ll have to restock before we get to Bucharest, and God knows what you expect us to do when we stop at Alba Iulia and Budapest.”
“Call Niko and tell her to get it sorted. She can stop off along the way and pick up whatever we need.” Ilya instructed, waving his hand as though he’d just laid down a royal decree.
“That’s not going to work.” Drago pointed out. “She doesn’t have any money, does she?”
“The fucking useless bitch.” Ilya sneered. “I don’t even know why I let her stick around when she’s such a dead-weight.”
Drago could feel his blood boiling.
“She’s far from useless, Ilya, and you know it.” He tried to keep his voice reasonable. “She does everything you ask and more, and you don’t even pay her what you pay the lowest of your men. Not anywhere close. You can hardly complain that she’s not in a position to buy supplies for you, when you barely give her enough money to feed her kid.”
Ilya glanced over at Drago, and he could see little spots of colour high on Ilya’s cheeks, a warning sign that the boss-man was about to lose his shit.
“Are you saying I’m wrong about how much I choose to pay my sister?” He demanded. “That I should hand over more cash, so she can up and run out on me?”
“Ilya, nobody said she wanted to run out on you.” Drago turned in his seat. “But you gotta know that she’s your best asset. She keeps everything on track for you and does all the shit you can’t be bothered with. If you were a company director and she was your best employee, you’d pay her enough to make her want to keep on doing what she’s doing. It’s called incentivising your staff.”
“Incentivising?” Ilya chuckled. “I allow her and the kid to live. That’s all the incentive Niko needs.”
Drago didn’t join in Ilya’s laughter.
“Man, you’re seeing this the wrong way.” He shook his head. “You need to be treating this more like a business and rewarding your best assets to keep them supporting you.”
“I have a hundred assets in the back of those trucks, and if everything goes to plan, they’ll make me a very pretty penny when we reach Rotterdam.” Ilya snorted.
“They’re not your assets, they’re your trading stock.” Drago sighed. “And if we don’t arrange some food for them, they’re going to be dead trading stock, and worthless to anyone.”
Ilya reached inside his jacket, and for a moment, Drago’s breath caught in his chest, expecting his boss to pull out a gun. He was so fucking volatile when he was on coke, that you never knew which way he was going to go.
He breathed a sigh of relief when Ilya pulled out his wallet.
“Here, take my credit card and the piece of paper inside. Use your phone to get onto the Carrefour website and order whatever food you think we need. Have everything delivered to the address on that piece of paper.” Ilya instructed. “Then send Niko a message to say the problem has been resolved.”
Drago took the card and paper and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He’d never known Ilya to be this reasonable about anything.
“And Drago?” Ilya wasn’t finished.
“Yes, boss?”
“If you ever try and lecture me on how to run my business or my family again, I’ll string you up by your bollocks and let my ‘trading stock’ loose on you with razor-blades.” Ilya smiled. “They may be subdued now, but given the chance to exact some revenge, I have a feeling they’d rip you to pieces, piece by tiny piece.”
“Yes, boss.”
Somehow, Drago didn’t think Ilya was joking. He was just one lieutenant, an easily dispensable and replaceable hired hand.
He’d better not forget that if he wanted to live a little longer.
Chapter 42 – Niko
Niko sat in the passenger seat looking out of the window, only half of her paying attention to Kellen and Roman sitting in the back of the cab.
Kellen was proving to be a godsend in keeping Roman amused and was currently sitting with the bears on his lap, making up stories and using different voices for each of the bears.
Niko felt a twinge of guilt that it wasn’t her back there with her son. She hadn’t heard him giggling this much in so long, and she worried that the constant stress she was under all the time with Ilya was having a negative effect on Roman. Was he picking up on her permanent state of anxiety?
The simple answer was yes, of course he was.
But what could she have done to stop it?
Absolutely nothing. That was the honest answer.
Her situation was not of her own making, and nothing about her life was as she would have chosen it. The only single thing that she wouldn’t change if she could, was her son. He was her one ray of sunshine in a world filled with storm-clouds.
As Roman let out a particularly high-pitch squeal of laughter, she glanced around to find Hollywood watching her.
“Roman sounds like he’s found a new best friend.” He grinned.
“He never had an old best friend.” Niko shrugged. “He’s just had me, and Noni, the old woman who looks after him when I have to work. She’s not exactly friend material.”
“Doesn’t he mix with other kids at school?” Hollywood frowned.
“He’s too young for school.” Niko pointed out. “And we’ve never been in the same place long enough for me to register him for pre-school.”
“So, does he ever get to mix with other kids?” Hollywood wasn’t going to change the subject.
“If I get a chance to take him to the park to play, then he mixes with whoever is there.” Niko explained. “I don’t have a lot of free time for stuff like that.”
Hollywood kept his attention on the road, but she could almost hear his brain ticking over.
“So, where will he go to school?” No, he really wasn’t letting up.
“Unless Ilya decides to settle somewhere for any length of time, it’s not likely we’ll be able to register him anywhere.” She sighed. “I’m already planning on home-schooling him, starting when he turns four. Each time I have a little extra money, I buy one of the books he’ll need for his studies. He’s a bright boy, so I don’t think he’ll suffer from not having traditional schooling.”
“He’ll miss out on interaction with his peers, though.” Hollywood pointed out. “That’s a big part of learning.”
“I’m well aware of what he’ll be missing out on.” Niko just wanted to tell him to mind his own business. “I don’t plan on working for my brother for ever, y’know. One day soon I plan on getting away from him, and I’ll find a place where I can raise my son properly. We’ll get a small apartment, and I’ll get a job for when he’s in school, and we’ll live a proper life. Not like now. But until that can happen, the best I can do for Roman is try and teach him his lessons, so when he starts school he won’t be behind the other kids. He can already read and write a little. He knows his numbers and can do basic arithmetic, and he’s already fluent in two languages. I don’t think he’s doing badly for a three-year-old.”
“He’s doing great, Niko. I wasn’t criticising your parenting skills.” Hollywood glanced over at her. “I just know how tough it is to be a single mom, and how having a network of friends will be beneficial for Roman.”
“You’re speaking from experience, I suppose.” Niko stared at Hollywood.
“I am, yes.” He nodded. “I was raised by the best single mom ever, no offence. But even she couldn’t provide everything a kid needed. That’s where friends come into it. They have your back in school to stop you being bullied, and then keep you company after school until your mom gets home from her third job. They’re important to a kid’s mental wellbeing.”
“You were bullied?” Niko found
this hard to believe. The guy was huge!
Hollywood grinned as though he was reading her mind.
“I wasn’t always this size.” He pointed out. “I was a scrawny four-year-old once, and my first week in school was hell. My mom dressed me up in new jeans and new sneakers, and I went to school thinking I was something special. Only they were the wrong brand of jeans, and the sneakers didn’t have a label that anyone recognised, so I got teased a lot. Gradually, I made friends with the other kids who also got teased a lot, and we banded together until we outnumbered the kids who had all the right gear. But it wasn’t easy.”
Niko couldn’t believe kids could be so cruel, but of course, she knew deep down they could.
“Roman will have to learn that you have to work hard if you want nice things.” She sighed. “I won’t have enough money to buy designer gear, so it’ll have to be the fake label stuff you can get in the markets.”
Roman’s giggles were still coming loud and fast.
“If he keeps laughing like that he’s gonna make himself sick.” She glanced back through the curtain to see Kellen holding a couple of bears up, pretending they were having some kind of conversation. “Kellen’s really good with kids.”
“Probably because he’s still a big kid at heart.” Hollywood nodded.
“How long have you two known each other?” Niko asked, wondering what their connection was.
“We served together for ten years or so in the Marines.” Hollywood explained. “He joined my team after he finished basic training, and I kinda adopted him. I guess I felt sorry for the scrawny new kid on the block.”
Niko spluttered a laugh. Kellen was around six and a half feet tall, and almost as wide across the chest. She couldn’t imagine him ever being scrawny.
“You can laugh, but he wasn’t always the size he is today either.” Hollywood shook his head. “It took a few years of hard work to build his strength up to what it is now. It’s not just about building up muscle, y’know. It’s about building up muscle while still maintaining agility, and actually getting stronger. Those aren’t pretty-boy muscles from the gym, lady. Those are the fruit of hours and days of blood, sweat, and tears on some of the toughest damn assault courses the military ever built. Just so you understand the difference.”