by Beth Abbott
Niko didn’t acknowledge him, but he noticed she stayed glued to his side, all the way back to the Guardians.
“We’re heading out inside the next five minutes.” Hollywood said to the other guys, watching Niko take Roman from Kellen and walk slowly to the truck. “Get where you need to be, because I don’t think anyone will give a damn if one of us gets left behind.”
As he made his way to the driver’s side of the cab, he noticed Ilya’s girlfriend looking around as if she’d only just realised that her ride had already left without her.
She ran to the nearest van and yelled at the guy driving it to let her in.
“What happened to Niko?” Kellen stopped alongside him.
Hollywood shook his head.
“Not sure yet.” He growled. “But she’s taken a smack to the face which is gonna leave a nice black eye, and I think she’s got some damage to her ribs.”
“Her brother did that?” Kellen frowned.
“I reckon so.” Hollywood nodded. “I don’t see that Drago being the sort of guy who would smack a woman, do you?”
“Not really.” Kellen agreed. “So, what next?”
“We keep doing our job, but we add running interference between Ilya and Niko as one of our tasks for the day.” Hollywood said decisively. “Because if I see him lay a finger on her again, I don’t care what she’s guilty of. I’m likely to rip his arm off and shove it so far up his ass he’ll be able to brush his teeth without ever opening his mouth.”
Kellen snorted a laugh, but Hollywood really wasn’t joking.
As much as he hated what she was involved in, hated everything about her life, there was something about a man hitting a woman that was taboo in Hollywood’s world.
Of course, the fact that despite all his good intentions he couldn’t actually stop this feeling of attraction towards Niko had absolutely nothing to do with it.
Nothing at all.
Chapter 37 – Hannah
Hannah stared at one of the half dozen screens in front of her, trying to make sense of the map of Sofia.
“So, if they take the direct route to the factory, there will be little opportunity to intercept them between the point they reach the outskirts of the city and when they leave the A1, which is the main road that goes all the way from Istanbul to Sofia. Are you sure the risk is too great for an earlier interception? We could have them taken down in less than five minutes.”
The voice came from another of the screens, where several uniformed men sat around a conference table with a guy that Hannah typically referred to as ‘The Suit’. In other words, the senior politician drafted in to make the decisions.
“Commissar, nobody is doubting that you and your men could have this wrapped up very quickly, if it was just a matter of taking down the men on the outside.” Hannah smiled. “Where the problem lies is that the traffickers have heavily armed men in the back of the trucks guarding the women. If they were to hear any gunfire, or suspect the convoy had been intercepted, there’s no guaranteeing that they won’t turn the guns on the hostages. They could kill an awful lot of women in five minutes.”
“Then the only solution is to wait until they reach the factory and have unloaded the women.” The Suit from the Interior Ministry shrugged. “We can’t have anything occurring on the streets of Sofia, or there could be danger to the public.”
“I agree that this seems the best option for Sofia.” Kaz nodded.
“What do you mean, ‘for Sofia’?” The Suit leaned forwards.
“As I’ve already explained, Minister, the route could change at a moment’s notice, or they could switch between several factories they use.” Hannah pointed out. “The intel we’re getting is fluid at best, and subject to change at a moment’s notice. So, as well as speaking to you, we’re having similar conversations with authorities in three or four other cities along the route, just in case they actually get that far. We don’t want anyone to be caught unawares, and while the likelihood of them being needed reduces the further along the route we look, we can’t assume that everything will go to plan at the first, second, or even the third location.”
“How reliable is your informant?” One of the officer’s leaned forward. “We would like some reassurance that our people won’t be walking into some kind of trap.”
“Ok, well, that’s been the biggest difficulty throughout.” Hannah admitted. “They’re pretty senior in the organisation, but they don’t want to be identified until it’s absolutely necessary. I think we have to understand and appreciate what a brutal world they live in. There would be no second chances if they were caught. Hell, if they were even suspected of betrayal, their bodies would probably end up mutilated and tortured, and buried in a shallow grave.”
“Then how do you know that any of what they say is true?” The Suit threw up his hands in a dramatic gesture. “This could all be someone’s sick imagination, or someone gaining pleasure from leading the police on a wild goose-chase.”
“Because I already have six men inserted into the organisation to travel with them this week, and the intel they’ve come back with exactly mirrors what the informant has told us.” Hannah countered. “It’s for real.”
“Can’t your people identify who they are?” The Commissar asked.
“I spoke to one of our men this morning, and he’s narrowed it down to half a dozen people it could be.” Hannah explained. “Ilya Federov keeps the people he trusts to a very minimum. There’s his sister, Nikita, or Niko as she prefers to be known, his girlfriend, Vanya, his right-hand-man, Drago something-or-other, and maybe three junior lieutenants.”
“Can’t your guys do a bit of fishing, to see who takes the bait?” The Suit asked.
“They could.” Danny interrupted. “And they could also say the wrong thing to the wrong person and end up with their bollocks blown off. These people aren’t the type you go ‘fishing’ with.”
Hannah turned and smiled at her husband.
“Thanks for the visual, baby.” She patted his knee under the table, before turning back to the screen. “Kaz and I were talking about this earlier, and we think it’s got to be either Niko or Drago. Hollywood reckons that the other lieutenants are little more than foremen, keeping the lower ranks under control. While it gives them some power over the other men, he doesn’t think that they know any more about what’s going on than anyone else. He’s also ruled out Vanya, because he reckons an amoeba has more brain cells. That could be an act, of course, but Hollywood doesn’t think it’s likely.”
“So, that leaves the two people closest to Federov?” The Commissar asked.
“Yes. And they’re the two people with the most to lose. If we’re going to gamble on it being one of them, then we’d better make sure we get the right one, because either one of them has the authority to have our men wiped out at a moment’s notice.” Hannah explained. “And I really would rather that didn’t happen. I happen to be quite fond of our team.”
“Commissar, can you have your team in position by midday?” Niels leaned forward. “The expectation is that they’ll arrive no later than two o’clock, allowing for a comfort break at the halfway point.”
“I’m sure we can arrange something.” He nodded. “Do you know if there are already people in the factory?”
“I’m picking up half a dozen heat signatures.” Hannah glanced at a different screen. “But the unit is constructed mostly of steel. If there’s a secondary building inside that has a steel roof, then it may be blocking any images getting through, so we can’t be absolutely certain there aren’t more.”
“We’ll work on getting our men in place without being seen.” The Commissar nodded. “Will there be any way we’ll be able to distinguish your team from Federov’s men? We don’t want to shoot the good guys by mistake.”
“Apart from the fact that they’re all well over six feet tall, and they’re not dragging their knuckles on the floor like Neanderthals? I’m guessing you’ll be able to tell them apart if the shootin
g starts, because they’ll be the ones shooting in the same direction as your men, rather than at them.” Hannah smiled. “They’ll also identify themselves as Guardians if challenged.”
“They’ll also probably have hit the floor and be shooting military style.” Danny added. “Not randomly firing off in all directions.”
“That’s something at least.” The Commissar shrugged. “Ok, well, let us know if there are any changes to the plan.”
“Will do. Kaz, one of our Interpol liaisons will keep a channel open.” Hannah gave a small wave and signed off.
“One down and three more to go.” Niels smiled at her.
Hannah sighed and ran her fingers through her hair in agitation.
“He’s right about one thing… we need to find out who our informant is.” She declared. “I’ll speak to Hollywood as soon as we’re done here. We can’t keep wasting police resources halfway across Europe on a ‘maybe’.”
“The only ‘maybe’ is the route.” Danny pointed out. “The certainty is that a hundred women will be trafficked to God knows what sort of fate if we don’t manage to stop the trucks reaching Rotterdam. Personally, I’d rather be responsible for wasting police time than for losing the hostages.”
Hannah turned and stared at her husband with adoration.
“I always knew I’d married a drop-dead gorgeous sex-God, with a body made for sin, and a heart of pure gold. But now he throws in ‘the voice of reason’?” She leaned in and kissed him hard and fast. “God, I love you Danny Simons!”
“We can step out for a coffee if you’d like some ‘alone time’” Niels offered, causing Kaz to cover her mouth to stifle her smile.
“Nah, we’re good.” Hannah still smiled up at Danny. “What I have in mind for my husband would last at least as long as a three-course lunch.”
“Then, how about we start with the next city on the route.” Niels suggested. “Where next?”
Hannah glanced back at the map on her screen.
“Belgrade is almost certainly next, followed by either Budapest or Zagreb, depending on the route they take.” She said confidently.
“Then Belgrade it is.” Kaz picked up her phone and started dialling. “The sooner we start making plans, the less chance there is that we end up losing anyone.”
Chapter 38 – Niko
As Niko climbed into the back of the cab with her son, she winced at the pain in her side, the twisting doing nothing to help her breathe.
“Mama, can I watch one of my movies?” Roman scrambled up on the bed, already reaching to turn the TV set on.
Niko would normally have tried to get him to do something creative in the mornings, like crayoning or painting, but frankly, this morning she was in too much pain to argue.
“Sure, baby.” She smiled. “Which one do you want?”
She reached in her bag, and before he could get the words out, she pulled out his favourite film.
“Lego Batman!” He giggled, clapping his hands.
Niko removed the disc from the box and passed it to her son, watching as he carefully inserted it into the DVD player.
Roman carefully stacked up the pillows and lay down, his head propped up, so he could see the screen.
“Are you gonna watch with me, mama?” He patted the space on the bed next to him.
“In a little while, baby.” She smiled. “Mama just has to do a bit of work first.”
As she pulled out her phone, she felt the tears pool in her eyes.
How could a day go from perfect to perfectly horrible in less than thirty minutes?
She’d woken to an email from her contact, telling her that arrangements were in place for them to be intercepted when they arrived in Sofia, Bulgaria, meaning that in less than twenty-four hours, everything in her world would be infinitely better.
Then she’d gone into Ilya’s office this morning to say hello and see if her brother had straightened himself out, only to be told that Sofia was off their itinerary altogether.
In order to facilitate his drug deal, he’d decided that instead of heading across Bulgaria, they were going to turn off halfway to Sofia, and instead head up into Romania, to Bucharest to be precise.
As to her question of whether he was still high or not, she got her answer when she questioned his decision, and his temper exploded.
Ilya had picked up a chair and thrown it at her.
Ok, she doubted if he really meant to throw it at her. At least, not with any intention that it should actually hit her. But in his drug-fuelled rage, his aim had turned out to be remarkably accurate.
The leg of the chair had caught her straight in the ribs, leaving her grateful that it hadn’t actually punctured the skin and impaled her. In her attempt to avoid the worst of the impact, she’d turned and smacked her head straight into the door, so she not only had the pain in her ribs, but the throbbing from what she wouldn’t be surprised was a cracked cheekbone as well.
She glanced down and re-read the message that had filled her with so much hope this morning.
“Have arranged meeting for when you reach Sofia. Everything in place at the location you used last time. Will be ready when you arrive. Good luck.”
She couldn’t believe her bad luck that her brother would be such an asshole as to change the route at the last minute.
She clicked on the reply button.
“Cancel everything. Change of itinerary. Now headed to Bucharest. No idea where we’ll be stopping. Will be in touch when I know our next destination.”
Niko hit send and almost sobbed with frustration. She’d waited so long to put this plan together and having Roman with her on this trip had meant they could finally put it into action. Yet at every stage she seemed to be thwarted.
She was tired, and in pain, and her world was crumbling around her, again.
The tap on the dividing wall warned her that Kellen was trying to get her attention.
“Everything Ok, honey?” He smiled as he poked his head around the curtain. “You looked like you were holding your ribs back there. Bruised or cracked?”
Niko blushed.
“Probably just bruised, though they feel like they’re broken.” She admitted.
“Look, I don’t want to overstep the mark, but I have had experience of field-medicine in the military.” Kellen explained. “I have bandages in my pack, and some balm that you can rub into bruises, that will bring them out quicker, but take away the sting at the same time. Why don’t you let me take a look and we’ll see if your ribs need taping up? You can even rub the balm on yourself if you don’t want me to touch you. You’ll feel a lot better afterwards, I promise you.”
Niko’s immediate reaction was to shake her head and decline his offer, no matter how well-intentioned it was.
But the second she shook her head, pain ripped through her eye-socket, and her gasp set off a chain-reaction that had her sucking in a breath as knives seemed to stab into her rib-cage.
“That would be a yes, then, hmm?” Kellen grinned, but she could see the concern in his eyes.
“Yes, please.” She hissed. “But I’ll put the balm on myself.”
“Of course.”
Kellen climbed into the back and glanced at the TV.
“Hey, Lego Batman!” He chuckled. “I love this movie. As soon as we’re finished, I’ll stay back here with Roman, and you can go up front and sit with H. I doubt if you’ll find it very comfortable to lie down for a couple of days anyway.”
Niko glanced at Roman to find he was paying them absolutely no attention.
“Here, sit in front of me with your back to Roman.” Kellen suggested. “I just need to get some stuff out of my pack.”
Niko turned herself around and eased off her jacket. She unbuttoned her shirt and carefully shrugged it off her shoulders, leaving herself in a vest over her bra. No way was she going to take those off.
When Kellen knelt on the limited floor space in front of her, he had a bandage, some tape, a pair of scissors and a tube of somet
hing.
He deposited them on the bed and stared at her vest.
“As much as I probably look like I should have x-ray vision, I’d be lying if I said I did.” Kellen winked at her cheekily. “Could you lift your vest, so I can see the damage? You can keep your arms covering your, umm… ‘upper parts’, if you feel more comfortable.”
“My ‘upper-parts’? Is that how you usually refer to them?” Niko couldn’t help but smile at him this time, especially not after the ‘Superman’ lookalike suggestion.
“Nope.” Kellen grinned. “But I’m trying to be as reassuring as possible to you, while at the same time acknowledging that we have a youngster in our midst.”
Niko lifted her vest gingerly, while keeping her right arm across her ‘upper parts’ as suggested.
“Can you stretch up to give me a better look?” Kellen leaned down to get a closer look at the bruise.
Niko breathed in and tried to stretch her torso up, ignoring the shooting pains as much as she could.
She was surprised when she heard him growl to himself.
“What did he hit you with?” Kellen said quietly.
Niko shook her head.
“He didn’t hit me.” She whispered.
“Niko, don’t…”
“Kellen, Ilya didn’t hit me.” She repeated clearly. “He threw a chair across the room, whether intentionally directed at me or not I wouldn’t like to guess. Either way, it spun around, and the leg caught me in the ribs.”
“And your face?” Kellen asked, obviously not believing her for a minute.
“I was trying to get out of the way of a random flying chair and discovered the door in my way.” She smiled. “Entirely self-inflicted.”
Kellen looked at her sceptically.
“Believe me or don’t, it doesn’t make a bit of difference to me.” Niko shrugged and then instantly regretted the movement. “I’m not in the habit of lying to anyone.”
Kellen looked closer at the bruise on her ribs.
“Did the chair leg hit you end on?” He asked, frowning at the large circular mark she’d noticed earlier, when she’d dared a glance in the filthy bathroom mirror.