It's Personal

by Philip Bond

  *

  “Correct, eight trucks heading to Niš, possibly the airport, yeah anytime soon, in Leskovac, that’s close by. That’d be great. If they get vision of what they’re transporting, and it confirms our suspicions, we have one hell of a story. A special report,” Harry looks in awe at Matt… “Birgit, that’d be terrific.” She’s had to argue every time for a special report and Birgit offers it to Matt without even asking; she’s pissed off. Suddenly, Harry has a thought, indicating to Matt she wants the telephone… “Hang on Birgit,” he interrupts… “Harry wants a word.”

  Grabbing the cellphone… “Birgit, just thought, we need the aircraft registration and owner details. I’ll bet the flight plan puts it in Geilenkirchen sometime soon. If I’m right, Matt and I will return to Germany to meet the aircraft. Yes Birgit, I’m guessing it’s a regular shipment to restocking European brothels.” Looking to Matt… “Yes Birgit, we can rattle a cage, a very big cage.”

  *

  The collaborative effort pays dividends in spades. The truck convoy arrives at Niš airport coinciding with an Ilyushin Il-76 Russian heavy lifter with the official story being pupils from a Serbian convent school bound for holidays in the Ukraine. Additional checking by the second CNN team reveals a different destination. The lodged flight plan shows the aircraft landing first at US Air Base Aviano Italy before flying onto Geilenkirchen, Germany.

  Timing is tight. Their return flight to Germany lands the intrepid journalists into Bonn.

  A quick flash of a credit card puts both into a Mercedes. With Geilenkirchen keyed into the satellite navigation system, they venture onto Germany’s autobahn network… “Damn, there’s an accident up ahead. The Sat-Nav directs us off the A555. This’ll add time to the journey.”

  As Matt obeys the electronic guide, Harry’s telephone rings; it’s Birgit… “The aircraft’s registered owner is Bereit-Air, the air arm of a shipping company called Bruderschaft. Helmut Sperling owns these companies. Cautious we must be. Connected is he to high places.”

  The Sat-Nav instructs… "Biegen Sie rechts in die Kölnstraße, L194 für 200 Meter.’

  That name rings Harry’s bell… “I’ve heard of this man?”

  "Biegen Sie rechts in die B51 für 500 Meter.’

  “Yes, he first appears at the end of world war two assisting ex-Nazi’s fleeing retribution in Germany. Since then, his business remains transportation, working for anyone who will pay.”

  The Sat-Nav voice interrupts… "Nehmen Sie die Ausfahrt 109-Kreuz Bliesheim halten auf A61 in Richtung Venlo Köln A1.’

  “Reports there are, he provides transport resources to Jews returning to Palestine, later transporting weapons into Syria and Egypt. Even later, weapons into Rhodesia and South Africa.” ’Nehmen Sie die Ausfahrt 107-Dreieck Erfttal in Richtung Venlo-Mönchengladbach-Aachen für 800 Metre."

  “This man makes a whole bunch of money moving anything and everything anywhere in the world. Most recently, with the support and protection of various intelligence services.”

  ‘Merge onto A61.’

  Harry interjects… “CIA?”

  “Among others,” Birgit responds… “He does not discriminate. We have file tape of his aircraft arriving in Eritrea loaded with both humanitarian aid for those afflicted by the violence and armaments for the protagonists.”

  “Nehmen Sie die Ausfahrt 16-Dreieck Jackerath für A44 500 Meter in Richtung Düsseldorf.”

  “Again, in Somalia, we have similar vision. This man operates with immunity.”

  “Birgit,” something’s obvious… “You obviously have a personal interest in this man?”

  “Like you Harry, I too the journalist covering hot-spot stories, like you I too work with a man I loved. Like you, Harry, I too bite a story, a story involving this man.” Birgit goes quiet.

  “And,” she prods.

  The telephone remains silent a second longer until returning, obviously emotional… “We have the car accident, Kurt dies, and I spend six weeks in hospital, another twelve weeks learning again to walk.”

  “Birgit, maybe it’s time we bring some people to account.” Harry has a plan.

  “Explain?”

  “Connect Helmut Sperling with Sanders.” She unloads… “Let’s review the stories and vision. Put together a three-part series.” To Brigit… “Part one, your work on Sperling’s early years. Part two focuses on Africa, establishing the link between him and Sanders showing Sanders’ Australian activities and then,”

  Birgit’s excited… “The continuing business of these two, different times and different places, criminal activities remain the same.”

  “Folgen Sie der Beschilderung für Aachen A44 und A44 imboccare.”

  “You read my mind,” bubbling… “What do you think?”

  “Are you up for it, Harry, dangerous it can be.”

  “Nehmen Sie die Ausfahrt 6 Aldenhoven 200 Meter für die B56 in Richtung Aldenhoven-Baesweiler-Geilenkirchen.”

  “I’ll push my luck if you will.”

  “How far are you from Geilenkirchen?”

  Checking the navigation system… “Almost there.”

  “Let us build a terrific story.” Birgit hangs up.

  To Matt… “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Babe, I’m with you.”

  "Im Kreisverkehr nehmen Sie die zweite Ausfahrt auf die B56 Geilenkirchener Straße in Richtung Heinsberg Geilenkirchen Baesweiler Freialdenhoven.’

  *

  “Yes, some of these planes fly regular surveillance down through the Adriatic.” Haste in returning to Germany pays dividends… “They can monitor all air traffic for some hundreds of kilometres.” The Ilyushin isn’t here… “Time on mission is limited by crew fatigue.” Their only worry now is that it may not arrive whilst they are here… “With aerial refuelling, the aircraft can stay on station for an extended period. Exact information on sensor coverage is classified.”

  Thank God! There, through the cloud cover, a lumbering giant appears through the clouds.

  Hanging in the sky like a bloated pelican ready to skid into a, hopefully, controlled landing, it transits the outer marker, wheels down, flaps down, landing lights beaming, it glides over the perimeter fencing. One hundred metres up and three hundred metres distant from the threshold, the pilot nurses the power up to ensure the aircraft touches into the runway’s warn patch.

  Harry’s secretly elated. Matt repositions to frame Harry, the general and the Ilyushin… “General, how often do your crews scramble interceptors onto unidentified aircraft?”

  Clouds of smoke signal a successful touchdown… “Aw, things are different these days. Most business is via radio. If someone strays, we just give’m a call and situations are corrected.”

  As the giant labours to a crawl at the end of the runway, a visiting B-52H creeps to line up for its allotted departure… “I guess, general, your aircrews took care of a lot of business during the NATO air campaigns?”

  “Yes,” the modern-day mammoth moves slowly towards the parking ramp… “That’s a reasonable assumption.”

  “So, I take it general,” she’s buying time… “Certain aircraft regularly test NATO air defence systems over Kosovo?”

  The almost deafening sound of eight screaming Pratt & Whitney turbofans on the leaving B-52, interrupt conversation.

  “Aww,” Matt moves sideways to reframe Harry, the general and the Ilyushin… “Again, you might get someone who strays and needs reminding of current events.”

  Halting at its assigned parking station, the Ilyushin powers down the remaining two engines as three buses drive up close to the now stationary giant… “General, about this base,” he nods… “It’s a NATO military facility.”

  Surprised with the question, the general returns… “Yes, that’s correct.”

  Gotcha… “Why do you have civilian registered aircraft parking here amongst the military aircraft?” People begin departing the Ilyushin and directed onto the buses.

  The general looks aro
und… “Oh,” spotting the recent arrival… “That’s here to load KFOR cargo for Kosovo.”

  “So,” let us see how he handles this… “who are the civilian passengers leaving the aircraft?”

  “Arr,” he looks again… “I, I believe they’re pupils from a Macedonian monastery here for a holiday. They hitched a cheap ride.”

  “General, what would you say to reports given to a CNN reporter in Niš Serbia that these same children are from a Serbian monastery going to the Ukraine, not Germany.”

  “I don’t know, maybe they changed their minds. Bookings fell through, I have no specific information.”

  She isn’t about to let him leave on that… “General, we have on camera witness accounts; these flights carry women, young girls, destined for European prostitution trade.”

  “Look, Miss Reisner,” he’s stumbling… “I don’t know anything about that. I can’t comment.”

  Unacceptable… “This and previous flights are authorised,” demanding… "By whom, general?

  “They have military authorisation.”

  “Again general, by whom?”

  “It goes back to 1999 and the Shining Hope US Humanitarian relief program.”

  “So, if I wanted to speak with someone regarding this, whom might that be?”

  “I’m not sure.” He’s dismissive… “Let’s wrap this up, it’s raining and I’ve a command to attend too.”

  “Certainly, general,” a parting shot… “Maybe you can start by ensuring the safety of those girls on the buses.”

  “Thank you and have a nice day.” He turns to walk away. Matt keeps rolling his camera, activating his directional microphone. The general’s aide, a captain standing out of frame, joins him… “Fuck it Womack, get some MP’s and check out those buses. I sure as hell don’t want these TV people trapping me again. Get me some answers.” He pushes the captain towards the buses… “Move it, damn you!”

  Harry looks to Matt… “I think we’re done here.”

  “Yeah,” both make a tactical retreat towards the car park… “Maybe, for all time.”

  While driving towards the gatehouse, they pass the buses stopped on the main access road surrounded by five Humvee’s and twenty plus military police… “Someone’s not going to be happy.”

  Matt steers onto the road towards Geilenkirchen town centre… “So, what’s next?”

  The weather turns, with drizzle covering the windscreen… “Not sure. Let’s go somewhere and eat. I’m starving.”

  He pulls over to interrogate the Sat-Nav… “Here’s one, Grillmaster on Sittarder Strasse in Geilenkirchen town centre.”

  Watching Matt finish his second burger, Harry allows… “I think we need to nail down the link between Helmut Sperling and Sanders.”

  Matt swallows… “How, he’s CIA. There won’t be a paper trail that you will get to see.” Picking at Harry’s fries… “It’s my guess, Sanders uses his CIA authority to cover the flights.”

  Harry’s cellphone rings. It’s Birgit.

  Harry updates her with the latest then thinking aloud, voices… “Flight plans, landing clearances, where do the weapons come from and who authorises. Geilenkirchen’s a military base; there has to be a link somewhere. What about NATO headquarters?”

  “Leave the military to me.” Birgit obviously wants to be involved… “I have friends in high places. I will get what we need. Now, I want you two back to the base following up the Ilyushin passengers. If we do this correctly, Harry, we will put the ringleaders into a vice.”

  *

  The general does not take kindly to being setup, refusing permission for the journalists to re-enter the base. Matt renders a philosophical attitude… “Had a feelin’ this might happen.” They are parked twenty metres from the gate and thoroughly dejected… “Over that side of the fence, he rules.”

  “He can’t hold them.” Obviously, Harry’s not going to give up… “He’s obliged to turn them over to the German authorities.”

  Harry’s eyes light up at the same time as Matt’s… “Polizeioberkommissar Arndt Zech.” Harry pulls out her cellphone and thumbs through the memory. Seconds later… “Polizeioberkommissar Zech, it’s Harry Reisner, well thank you. Arndt, Matt and I have been to Kosovo following the sex slave story. Yes, just arrived back in Germany today. Arndt, the same time we left, an aircraft with twenty plus people, all women, also flies out from Serbia, arriving just now at Geilenkirchen. Yes, the NATO base. We were there for the arrival and as a result, these people are detained for the military police. Arndt, it’s my guess they’ll be turned over to German authorities. Yes Arndt, I want to interview maybe one or two. You will. Ich danke Ihnen vielmals mein Bekannte. What’s that, oh yes we’ll wait here until you call.” She is pleased as punch, pulling strings and making people dance. With a grin any Cheshire cat would be proud of, she looks to Matt.

  Before she can say anything, he jumps in… “Babe, you the one. You’ve co-opted a German cop into segment producer.”

  “And why not?”

  “Babe, I couldn’t agree more, why the hell not!”

  *

  It’s twenty or so minutes before Arndt Zech telephones… “Still on the base,” Harry lights up… “You can get us back in, that’s okay by me. One hour at the gatehouse, see you there.”

  *

  The interpreter translates… “Yes, Tefta is fourteen years old. Eight days ago, criminals in Serb militia uniforms come to her father’s farm. They beat and threatened to kill her father and mother, rape her younger brothers and sister unless she goes with them on the truck. They do this five more times. Eight girls join with her in the truck.” Tefta interrupts, speaking for some seconds before the interpreter continues… “They are taken to a place and held in a basement with ten others, mostly girls her age but some in their twenties. They stay there two days before seven more women join them.”

  Harry must know everything… “How are you treated, are you harmed?”

  After translation and her response… “Twice each night, one of us is taken and raped. They call this sampling.”

  “And you Tefta, do they harm you?”

  The tear in Tefta’s eyes on hearing the translation provides the answer. Offering through the interpreter… “One man has tattoo on left shoulder and another on stomach saying nine-inch nail with arrow pointing to penis. He hurts me.”

  “I want to know if she hears names, any names.”

  The interpreter attempts to console the girl while translating. Tefta sobs attempting to regain control… “While he assaults me, his cellphone rings. He talks to man called Tallboy.”

  “Are you sure?” Harry demands through the interpreter.

  “I know this,” she sobs as the interpreter offers… “Because he gets off me to sit on the bed. He is heavy on me.”

  Harry says… “Tallboy,” as she sits back into the chair.

  Tefta repeats without the interpreter… “Da, Tallboy.”

  Tears stream down her face. No translator is necessary to describe the terror she experiences. Harry sits quietly as Matt tightens the frame on the girl’s reddened face.

  Polizeioberkommissar Arndt Zech instructs… “Ich denke, wir beenden jetzt.”

  *

  Birgit on the cellphone to Harry… “Okay, come back to Berlin. We have the story to edit and ready.” She has been busy… “This is the fifth flight in as many months by this aircraft into Geilenkirchen. Authorisation comes through Operation Open Arms and the 86th Military Airlift Wing from Ramstein. It goes back to 1999 providing humanitarian aid to displaced Kosovars and relocating them to the US until they can safely return. I have full details on the aircraft’s owner, a copy of the original contract with NATO and letter of continuance authorising these five flights. There is no smoking gun leading directly to Sanders except for the victim’s account.”

  There’s another link in the chair so far, she’s not aired… “This thing I sit on now for little time, no evidence or substantiation.” In the light
of recent events, Brigit decides to move things along… “A friend talks of someone in Bundesminister des Auswärtigen, unsettled by certain actions. I have nothing more; the conversation does not progress. I do not want to take this up with him. We part on unhappy terms.”

  “Can you give me a name?” Demands Harry

  “Timotheus Dürr,” sheepishly revealed… “Recommend Harry, you do not talk with him. Not the nice man with women is he.”

  “Then,” her eyes light… “I’ve just the person to pursue this.”

  Knowing whom… “Ja, you do.”

  He’s primed and ready… “So, who is he and what does he do?”

  Reluctantly she opens… “Advisor to a commissioner is he, overseeing immigrant resettling. Ambitious is he, ready to step on any and everyone to get where he wants to go.” Sheepishly again… “Dangerous is he.”

  “Untrustworthy, so why start with him?”

  “Exactly, Matt, you need to see where it leads.”

  “Suggestions on how to ‘meet’ him?”

  “Bonn; in Bonn is he. Every morning without fail, he attends the gymnasium.”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  Looking carnally at his physique… “Ja, you can. I give you two weeks and ten thousand Euros budget.”

  “Ten thousand?” Harry’s looking for more.

  “Not easy is this.” Brigit ignores the question… “Suspicious is he. Will take some time to befriend and have him open.”

  “In a gym, people change,” the opportunities tantalise Matt’s interest… “It’s a great place to start, I’m going to need a cover story for being in Bonn.”

  “This can’t be covert,” Harry’s experience allows… “You can’t hide being a journalist. We need him to talk freely with attribution.”

  “So, we’re doing a story or spade work for the prosecution?”

  Harry and Brigit respond in unison… “Both!”

  “Ideas for being in Bonn?”

  Brigit has one… “Moving Bundestag to Berlin is hotly contested 338-320 with south members favouring Bonn, north members Berlin. These divisions continue today.”