by John Ringo
"We will want one for each of us," the soldier said, looking in the van at the back. "And I still like that one by the window. She is very pretty and has good tits."
"Kildar ..." one of the Keldara muttered from the backseat.
"Silence," Mike snapped. "I have a girl coming up for you. She is very good, very pretty and can take you both at once if you wish." He glanced in his rear-view and sighed in thankfulness as he saw Cottontail walking up the line of vehicles. There were a couple of cars stopped behind the line of vans, now. This was going downhill fast.
"Hi, boys," Cottontail purred as she came around the van to the driver's side. "You want some company?"
The Keldara women were justly famous for their beauty but Cottontail had most of them equalled at least. And when she put her mind to it, she could exude a sort of raw sensuality that was riveting. What was most riveting was that she looked like a teen virgin, even if she'd been with more men than a dockside whore and had the soul of Jeffrey Dahmer. Part of the strength of her act was that men rarely really looked at her eyes. Oh, they were stunningly beautiful, but men never got beyond that. They didn't see the little fire of hell burning in the rear of them. Or if they did they thought it was just lust, not pure evil.
"She will be good to you," Mike said, waving them away. "We will pull our vans to the side until you are ... done."
Mike got out and waved the vans forward and to the side of the small back road, then walked down the line, wishing he smoked. He needed something to steady his nerves. He was fine if it was a matter of killing everyone in the building, hole, ship or even town. But this shit was for somebody who enjoyed it.
He also took the time to wave the two cars that had been waiting through, and then found the chief in the fourth van.
"What was that all about?" Adams asked.
"The soldiers were bored and horny," Mike said, sharply. "They thought it would be a good way to pass the time to 'borrow' Vanda as part of their tip."
"The Moldav bastards," Sedama snarled from the driver's seat as the rest of the Keldara muttered angrily.
"Yevgenii nearly blew his top," Mike snapped. "But this sort of thing is going to come up. Handle it. Talk your way through. I'll tell you when you can kill someone. Don't kill anyone until I tell you. Is that clear?"
"Clear Kildar," Sedama replied, breathing out. "So Cottontail is taking care of it?"
"Yes," Mike said, still angry. As much at himself as at the situation. He should have prepared for it.
"And on another crossing when we don't have her along?" one of the Keldara in the rear of the van asked.
"I'm going to have to think about that one," Mike admitted. "Giving up the Keldara women is, clearly, out of the question."
"I dunno," another Keldara said. "There's always Anisa ..."
"Hey!"
* * *
Mike was leaning on the front of the lead van, looking at a map, when Cottontail came back out of the woods wiping at the corner of her lip with her thumb.
"Everybody satisfied?" Mike asked, cautiously. He hadn't told her she was going to have to bribe border guards and he felt curiously shamed by the incident. It wasn't as if she hadn't screwed enough men for two more to be no big deal.
"They are," she replied, archly.
"And are they alive?" With Cottontail you always had to ask.
"Yes," she admitted. "I considered it, but it would interfere with the mission, no?"
"Yes, it would," Mike said.
"And the mission is killing many slavers. This is a mission I like. I would not want it to fail."
Her eyes were as clear and innocent blue as a child's.
* * *
Chisinau was the capital of the small country of Moldava. Moldava was more an agreed upon border state between Russia and Romania than a real country. Russia had troops on the east side of the Dniester River to support the local Slavic ethnic groups so the central government couldn't really call that "their" territory. The situation was so bleak, they'd even elected a communist as president and more or less regressed to a semi-communist, sort of Stalinist, failed state. Totally landlocked, the poorest country in Europe, its total exports were limestone, hookers and people looking for a real life somewhere else.
The team had been installed at the Hotel Stalin on the outskirts of town. The hotel was near an industrial area and if Chisinau had a better and worse part of town, it was in the worst. In keeping with the general dilapidation of the neighborhood, the hotel looked as if it had been used by every rocker at Woodstock. The carpet, where it wasn't pulled up entirely, was about fifty years old and poorly made then. The rooms were filthy, the corridors were littered and the bathrooms didn't bear description.
It also was doing a booming business. They'd barely been able to get enough rooms for all of them and when Mike checked out their fellow travellers he could see why. They weren't the only people bringing girls through Moldava.
He wandered down to the bar, which gave "dive" a whole new meaning, and looked over the offerings. To his amazement, they had Johnny Walker Red.
"Walker," he said, perching on the rickety stool. The bar was about half filled and the clientele was telling. The men were all beefy and from various bulges mostly armed. The women were all wearing damned near nothing and given the temperatures in the bar they had to be freezing. Most of them also seemed rather ... subdued. As in "if I make a wrong sound, my pimp is going to beat the shit out of me. In public. And nobody will care."
One of the girls had just had her head pushed under the table when he sensed someone coming up from his off-side.
"Where you in from?" a man said in Russian as he settled in the seat next to Mike.
"Georgia," Mike said, honestly.
"Strange accent," the man said, frowning. "You're not Georgian."
"American," Mike admitted. "This is a way to pay the bills and the fringe benefits are great."
"Now we've got Americans in the game," the man grumped. "I am Ahmed Pasha. I saw some of your girls, though. Very nice. How much?"
"I'm taking them to Montenegro for an auction," Mike said. "They're not for sale. Mike Duncan."
"I saw one, a blonde, very big breasts," the man replied. "I'll give you a thousand euros and you won't have to feed her from here to Montenegro. I don't keep them, myself, you know. I am broker and move them. I know men will give me good price for her."
"I can get better money there," Mike said, laughing. "The buyers are special, pimps with wealthy clients. They want virgins or damned near. Clean and undamaged so they can have them first and hard. That's why I've got so much muscle with me, so the girls don't have to be disciplined. I'll go with the plan. What's the word on the roads west?"
"Ungheni was covered when I came back through," Pasha said. "You have to go all the way up to Balti to get through without a check. But the guards on Balti will usually take only five euros per passenger. They prefer euros. Here in Chinisau so many girls come through, so many men. Some have do this long time, some, like you, just getting started. I know everybody, can find best price for you. Fifteen hundred. She was very lovely. The one wearing the blue blouse. Very nice breasts. Very nice. I, too, have special customers and girls that good are getting hard to find."
"They had guards on Ribnita," Mike replied. "Five euros per passenger and they wanted a freebie. Fortunately I had one that had already been broken in or I'd have been out a lot of money. I've only been doing this for a while, yeah, but I've got a covered racket. Just me and my partner and we cut out the middlemen. When we're done with them we sell them to guys like you; my partner handles that. No dice. Not even in the game. That's Vanda and I'm looking at damned near ten grand for her first. You'd just dump her into the pipeline; if you've got special customers I'm the pope. What was happening in Romania?"
"Not much until you get near Cluj Napoca," the man said. "There was a checkpoint on the E-60 near Tarnaveni. Real bastards when I went through west. They acted like I was transporting my girls for imm
oral purposes and against their will. The shame. And it was very expensive in bribes. Ten thousand in dollars or euros? It doesn't matter, that is crazy. I can buy twenty girls for that."
"Don't know how far east you're going, but we hit one like that near Novyi Buh," Mike replied. "I explained to one of the girls that she had to talk us through. Or else. I understand, though, that there was a crackdown in Odessa and some of the guys are looking to move their more noticeable girls. You could probably get some good trades. And she's not really for sale, anyway."
"I operate here," Pasha said. "Although I buy Ukrainian girls. And if you have any more like those, next time through, I'll give you a good deal. I know all the men who buy and sell. I wonder who you know in Montenegro? Ammad? Tufa?"
"Neither," Mike said. "Very small network; I doubt you've run into it. We get high price girls and charge Westerners, mostly American, for the privilege of breaking them in. Charge them through the nose. You have to have the contacts for that. My partner is connected in the States. Then we dump them in the regular channels. We're in the market for those types of girls, though. Bringing these all the way from Georgia is a pain. You know a guy named Smegnoff? I understand he's got some girls that I might want to buy."
"Everyone has got girls," Pasha said, shrugging. "Smegnoff, yes, he has some good ones sometimes. If you really want to see him, he is in the Café Arrendi in the evening. But so do my suppliers. And we don't use them as hard as he does. He had one girl that tried to run away, so he broke her knees. She can walk only with a limp, now. Very sad." He didn't seem terribly broken up about it.
"I need them unused," Mike said, standing up and tossing a twenty euro bill on the bar. "I can do with a couple of very high quality girls, very pretty, virgins, young. I'll give you a good deal on them. I'll be around for a couple of days if you get anything worth talking about."
* * *
"Well, we're established," Mike said as he came into the room the team was using as a command post. Vanner was already in place with various electronic gadgets set up and a wire discreetly running out the window. "The agreed cover: we're running high quality girls to Montenegro for a special auction. I put out the word that we're in the market for unspoiled girls."
"I've gotten Smegnoff's cell phone plotted," Vanner said, nodding. He had a set of cup headphones on with one cup dangling. "He's about a half a kilometer southeast of here which plots out as ..."
"The Café Arrendi," Mike said, grinning as the intel specialist turned to look at him. "Already got the word."
"What's the play?" Adams asked.
"Work him," Mike said. "Then get him someplace quiet and have a nice long chat."
Chapter Ten
The Café Arrendi was a "coffee shop" that fronted for a brothel. It was on a minor street in south Chisainau that was the center of what passed for a red-light district. The traffic movement along the road was slow since business, even in the early morning hours, was brisk. Girls lined both sides of the streets, waving at the passing cars and rapidly boarding those that stopped.
"Pull over, here," Mike said as the van reached the front of the shop. He noticed that none of the girls were waving for them to stop; it was apparent what the van was used for.
What the darkened windows cloaked, however, were five Keldara in full body armor, cradling MP-5s. If anything "untoward" went down in the coffee shop, their job was to extract Mike, and Smegnoff, alive. And since Mike was the Kildar, they were very serious about that mission.
Mike rolled out of the van and stepped between two cars to the curb. He noticed that besides the girls there were men, most of them heavyset and wearing bad suits, scattered along the road. He wasn't sure if they were there to make sure the girls kept working or as external security on the coffee shop. He did spot what was probably the Lada the picture of Smegnoff was taken by. Of course, there were three other Ladas parked within less than a block of it, but it was nearly opposite the coffee-shop and the right color and trim.
The interior of the shop was run down with rickety tables and chairs and a filthy floor. Mike was almost afraid to try the coffee, but it wasn't all that bad. The girls working the counter were the most rode-hard-and-put-up-wet duo he'd ever seen, a hollow-faced girl with black hair and a bleached blonde. Both were dressed in skin-tight tube dresses and clearly were supposed to be advertising. If they were, they were advertisements for getting every venereal disease ever discovered and probably a few that were barely known.
Mike had spotted Smegnoff when he walked in. The pimp was in a corner with two other males. They had the scent of muscle and helpers at "breaking" girls. They were larger than the pimp but Mike figured if it came down to cases he could take all three of them. And the Keldara fire team was waiting in a van outside.
He sipped the espresso as he drifted over to the table.
"You're Smegnoff," Mike said, sitting down uninvited.
"And you're the new American," Smegnoff said, smirking. "I hear you're in the market for girls."
"Top quality, only," Mike said, nodding and ignoring the muscle. "Pretty, young and untouched."
"What is the fun of selling untouched girls?" Smegnoff sneered.
"Money," Mike said, shrugging. "You can get pussy anywhere. But young, virgin pussy, that's real money if you've got the right customers."
"I have customers like that," Smegnoff said, shrugging. "A few. Everyone does."
"Well, that's my main clientele," Mike said. "I hear you sometimes get pretty top quality girls."
"They're around," Smegnoff said, nodding and eyeing the former SEAL. "Not all the time, you know?"
"Anything at the moment?" Mike asked. "Or, for that matter, anything you can steer me to that hasn't been raped yet?"
"Not right now," Smegnoff said. "But they will be expensive."
"We'll bargain," Mike said. "I'm in town for two days letting the ladies rest. Then we're gone. You've got that long."
* * *
"I've got a shotgun mike set up on the Arrendi," Vanner said when he got back. "But his car has a heavy by it. I can't get a tracer on it; the Keldara were too obvious."
Mike looked around the room at the Keldara females and rubbed his chin.
"What are you thinking?" Yevgenii asked, eyeing the Kildar uncomfortably.
"Anisa," Mike said, glancing at the Keldara girl. She was a lovely young brunette with long legs and a classical face.
"Yes, Kildar?" the girl asked, curiously.
"Would you be willing to pose as a hooker?" Mike asked. "We're going to run into this problem again. I could send Cottontail to do it, but what I'd like is to send both of you. One of you to distract the guard, the other to plant the tracer. That way if we have to do it again, or something like it, after Cottontail is inserted you'll have experience. You'll have a Keldara backup team, of course."
"What would I have to do?" the girl asked uncertainly.
"Well, the first thing is getting into character," Mike said.
* * *
"I cannot wear this in public!" Anisa wailed.
The tube dress was, okay, pretty darned short. And the girl had clearly never worn high heels in her life. Cottontail, who could walk in them like most girls walked in flats, was smirking as the Keldara female attempted to balance on the top of the stiletto sandals.
Cottontail and Killjoy had been sent out shopping and had come back with everything that Anisa needed to look like a hooker. And the girl did, albeit a rather expensive one.
"I'm having problems with this," Adams said in English, shaking his head.
"So am I," Mike admitted. "But I think it's the best plan to go with."
"Oh, it's not the plan," Adams replied. "I'm wondering how much we could get for her ..."
"Don't go there," Mike snapped, shifting to Georgian. "Anisa, you look perfect. You'll be fine. All you have to do is walk up to the car with Katya, lean up against it while she talks to the guard, plant the tracer and then walk away with her. You'll be under observation th
e whole time and the Tigers will be there if anything goes wrong. But nothing will. You'll do fine."
"I cannot walk down the street in this!" Anisa said. "I look like a whore!"
"Uhmm ..." Vanner said. "That's sort of the point."
Anisa opened her mouth to respond and then shut it when she couldn't think of a reply.
"Well ..." she said after a moment, half triumphantly. "How am I supposed to carry it dressed like this? Where am I going to hide it?"
"It's not that large," Vanner said, pulling out a gray rectangle that was about the size and general shape of a cigarette lighter. "It's got a contact adhesive on one side. I suppose you should hide it somewhere where it's out of sight and easy ... to ... access...." He trailed off.
Anisa looked at him blankly then over at the Kildar.
"On your leg, right up in your crotch is what he doesn't want to say," Mike said bluntly. "For that matter, you might be able to simply palm it. Keep it in your fist. The problem with that is that people will assume it's money or something."
"I don't think this is going to work," Anisa said, holding out her hand for the device.
Vanner helpfully peeled the cover off the contact adhesive and handed it over.
"You can turn your back, now," Anisa said, looking at the men.
"Oh," Mike said, turning around, "right."
* * *
Anisa looked at Katya, who was standing with her arms folded, watching, and then shrugged. She took the small rectangle and, spreading her legs slightly, stuck it to the inside of her thigh.
"You can still see it," Anisa said triumphantly.
"Higher," Katya said, sighing angrily.
"If I put it any higher it will be inside of me!" Anisa protested.
"And the problem with that is ...?" Katya asked. "Besides, it won't. Just put it higher. There is plenty of room. You just have to actually touch yourself. Don't tell me you've never touched that part before."