by Bob Hamer
Matt nodded. "My back feels a lot better. Thanks. Maybe now if I soak it in a hot bath, it will loosen up more, and I'll be great. You're pretty talented with those hands. Maybe you should consider becoming a massage therapist full-time."
Irina smiled understanding Matt's soliloquy was for the benefit of the listening device. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I can meet you at eight in coffee shop of Sportsmen's Lodge. You know place?" She backed away. Matt acknowledged the invitation with a slight nod. She grabbed her dress and walked out of the room.
Matt closed his eyes and breathed a near-silent sigh. An inaudible prayer accompanied the sigh. He dressed and headed to Boris's office.
The door to the office was slightly ajar. He poked his head inside the door without knocking. Stump was sitting in front of the desk, drinking a beer. Boris was reading something and looked up when he sensed a new presence in the room.
"Hey, she is good. She loosened up my back. I think I'm going to go home and soak in a hot bath. I'll shout at you tomorrow after I talk with the attorney." Matt kept walking without waiting for a response from Boris.
When Matt was out of earshot, Boris looked at Stump. "Check him out."
"Shouldn't we have done that before you asked for his help?"
"Don't question me. It's never too late. Problems can be erased. His back loosened up a little too quickly."
"You think he's getting something on the side?"
Boris shrugged his shoulders and threw open his hands, "Something doesn't smell right. Irina gets off soon. Follow her and keep me advised."
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Matt pulled from the parking lot of the Russian Veil and headed east on Ventura Boulevard. He checked his mirrors, something that was second nature. He switched lanes twice, and he seemed clean—no tails, no cops. He then turned up a side street and drove several blocks before entering a cul-de-sac. He was clean. He grabbed his cell phone and called Dwayne.
"I think my fake backache worked. I'm meeting with one of the dancers slash hookers slash massage therapists named Irina."
"You still a virgin?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Probably won't tell Caitlin about this latest foray, but I might have made a connection."
"Any chance it's a setup?"
"There's always that chance. Maybe she is just freelancing and didn't want Boris to know. I'll let her take the lead. She suggested the meeting and the location."
"Where are you going to be?"
"The coffee shop at Sportsmen's Lodge on Coldwater and Ventura."
"I'm familiar with the location. You think she's working out of one of the rooms?"
"I seriously doubt it. Do we have a surveillance team available?"
"Let me call SOG and find out."
"I'd love to get pictures and then follow her away."
"If SOG isn't available, maybe I can get a team together from the task force."
"Don't push it. I don't want to get burned. This could be a big step. At least get someone inside the coffee shop. I may need a witness at some point. I don't like meeting women when I'm not covered. Too many allegations can arise."
"Were you wired in the room?"
"Yeah, I had a recorder in my pants pocket. If you believe Irina, the whole thing may have been recorded by Boris. She pointed to a microphone in the corner."
"You believe her?"
"No reason not to. I know he has surveillance cameras throughout the club so I assume he has mikes in the rooms as well. I was careful in everything I said. I'm using all this as a cover to ensure my investment is safe if I'm going to be providing him backstopping for a smuggling operation."
"Just be careful with her. Who knows where her loyalties lie?"
"I understand." Matt paused in the conversation as a woman walking her dog strolled past the car. "Did you run this whole scenario by the ADIC?"
"Yeah, he was on the phone as soon as we ended the meeting."
"Make sure he understands time is of the essence."
"He knows. Let me call SOG. Stay safe."
Matt ended the call and headed back to the warehouse where he would wait until his meeting at the Sportsmen's Lodge.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Dmitri was drawn to one of the travelers, a young Mexican girl with long black hair and dark, deep-set eyes. Her skin was smooth, not the leathery look most of other travelers wore. She almost seemed out of place, too pretty and too young to be on such a journey. During a short break, as they sat on the open trail under the faint moon-lit sky, he introduced himself.
"I am Dmitri," he whispered.
She hesitated in her response. No one spoke during the journey. Silence was not just encouraged; it was mandated. Any noise might alert the Border Patrol.
"I am Juanita."
"Why are you making the trip?"
"Opportunity. There is little for me to do in Mexico. My aunt says there are jobs in Colorado."
"What kind of jobs?"
"It doesn't matter. I have two children. I need to care for them."
"You need to be home. Why doesn't your husband provide?"
"My husband is dead. He was in the military and killed by the drug lords."
"And now you are working for them."
"Only to get me across the border."
Oscar Cano walked over to the two. "Quieto."
MATT ENTERED THE SPORTSMEN'S Lodge parking lot from the rear entrance off Coldwater Canyon Boulevard. He drove around the back of the complex and found an empty spot east of the hotel. He parked near the coffee shop next to the bougainvillea canopy entrance. The lot was crowded, which at this hour usually meant a banquet. Two large, luxury buses were parked along the far wall. The Lodge was a frequent overnight stay for entertainers who traveled by bus from venue to venue.
Trying to be inconspicuous, Matt glanced around the lot. He was hoping to see an SOG vehicle but saw none. He was also looking for any vehicles which frequented the Russian Veil. He didn't think Irina was setting him up, but as always he needed to be cautious. The lot was free of any familiar vehicles, friend or foe.
Matt exited his car and headed to the main entrance of the hotel. He could have entered by the side door directly leading to the coffee shop, but this gave him one more chance to subtly check the lot. Nothing noteworthy caught his eye.
As he opened the heavy, wooden, double door, he was greeted by the noise of the twenty-something generation. The lobby bar was crowded, and two near-drunks were playing pool, apparently for money or drinks because a cheer went up from those watching with each ball pocketed. The players were young, tattooed, and pierced. Their stringy, long, black hair needed washing, and Matt assumed they were no-name rockers just off one of the luxury tour busses. The women cheering had to be Valley groupies hoping to trade sex for free concert tickets.
Matt spied an older couple checking in. The middle-aged clerk behind the frosted glass at the front desk winced every time a raucous cheer was shouted. Since the couple didn't appear to be the partying type, they may have been rethinking their decision to stay.
The coffee shop was just down the hallway from the lobby. Over the course of his career, Matt met informants and even a few subjects in the coffee shop. Several years earlier he did a five-kilo coke deal with a mob associate who owned a restaurant in Burbank. Matt, pretending to be from out of town, set the deal up in a fifth-floor room of the lodge. Like clockwork the Godfather wannabe showed up with a knuckle dragger whose IQ was only a few strokes over par. They started in the coffee shop where they completed negotiations and headed to the rented room where the mob guy was to deliver the product. Once in the room Matt flashed the cash, and the errand-boy bodyguard was sent scurrying for the product. He returned in minutes with five kilos of Hollywood's drug of choice. Matt tested the white powder and
gave a verbal sign to an arrest team listening to the entire transaction in the adjoining room. When they burst in unannounced, chaos exploded in the tiny motel room.
The arrest went down hard when the bodyguard tried to earn his pay after the FBI ordered him to raise his hands. Matt ended up on the receiving end of a few blows, but justice willed out in the end. Somewhere in the mix Matt managed to break a nose, only this time it was his. Caitlin didn't find raccoon eyes and bandages stretching across his face to be as sexy as Matt had hoped. But bruises heal as do broken bones, and Matt had colorful pictures to show his grandchildren someday. The mob guy received a ten- year sentence, and his genius bodyguard took a twenty-year hit for assaulting a federal officer. Fond memories of the Sportsmen's Lodge.
Would tonight be different?
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
The lodge's coffee shop was small by restaurant standards, consisting of two rooms. The smaller of the two rooms housed a counter with eight seats, two booths, and a couple tables. The larger room had about a dozen tables, some seating four, others seating two. Western artifacts and pictures of Hollywood cowboy stars covered the walls. The lunchtime crowd typically consisted of stuntmen from the golden age of television, but tonight the customers appeared to be tourists and businessmen staying at the hotel.
Three men sat at the counter, but the tables were empty. Matt walked under the archway to the larger room. Several couples were seated at tables in the middle of the dining area. He walked through the room and looked out at couples smoking on the heated patio. No Irina.
When he turned back, he saw a waif in the corner booth. She looked like a frightened runaway who might frequent Hollywood Boulevard, except her clothes were clean and her face was washed. She was almost cowering in the corner, her legs drawn up to her chest on the white leather bench seat attached to the wall. A glass of iced tea sat in front of her.
Had Matt not known she was waiting, he might not have recognized her. The heavy dose of makeup she wore at the Russian Veil was gone. Her hair was pulled back. She had an almost innocent look. She could have been the girl from the high school yearbook who didn't rate a second look.
"I afraid you not come."
Matt took a seat in the booth positioning himself to see who was entering the restaurant. He was cautious. He wasn't convinced this wasn't a setup. He wished he could rephrase his earlier comment to Boris about going home to take a hot bath. If confronted by a member of the Russian's posse, it would be hard to explain his presence in a coffee shop. It was a mistake and mistakes often have consequences. Focus.
"No, I came. You seemed like you wanted to talk. I thought you needed someone to listen."
"Thank you for coming. You different."
"You said that back in the room."
"You ask questions about me. Do you really want to know answers?"
"That's why I'm here."
"You not tell Boris?"
"If you don't want me to tell Boris, I won't."
"Thank you."
A waitress approached and Irina immediately quieted. A closed menu was sitting in front of the young Ukrainian.
Matt opened his menu and asked Irina, "Have you decided?"
"I not hungry."
"Sure you are. Get something. I'm buying."
Irina smiled and opened the menu.
Matt looked up at the waitress, "Give us a few more minutes." She walked away without saying a word.
After a minute of perusing, Irina closed the menu. "I have decided."
When the waitress returned, she refilled their iced teas and both ordered.
"I come first from Ukraine. I told I be secretary for movie studio. I laugh. I very good on computer but who hire me? I not speak English good."
"Who said you'd have a job in Hollywood?"
"Lady in Odessa. I answer ad in paper. My parents do not want me to leave. They say I should stay in Lviv, but I think I know better. I leave my town and I meet with her. She say first you go to Turkey. Then we get you papers for Hollywood. They say maybe I be in movies after I am secretary. I have to laugh. I say I not pretty like girls in Hollywood, but she say Hollywood need all kinds of actresses. She say I be good actress."
I hope you aren't acting now.
"How long ago was this?"
"Last year. Right after my birthday."
"How old are you?"
"I thought in this country men do not ask women their age."
Matt laughed. "Gentlemen aren't supposed to ask but men can."
Irina looked confused by the distinction, then she said, "I am eighteen."
"Tell me about the journey."
"Journey?"
"The trip. Tell me how you got from Lviv to Odessa to Turkey to Los Angeles."
Irina was quiet for several moments. At first Matt assumed she was formulating her thoughts, but then he realized she was choking back tears. Before she spoke again, the waitress appeared with their meals. She placed the plates in front of each and warned Irina her plate was hot.
"You guys got everything you need? I'll bring some more iced tea." With that she headed back to the kitchen before Matt could even respond he would like ketchup for his fries.
Matt watched her walk away and in his peripheral vision spotted Danny Garcia from the Joint Terrorism Task Force sitting in the other room drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. Matt assumed Danny's presence meant Dwayne was unable to get SOG for the surveillance. The conversation was being recorded, but Matt welcomed another set of eyes as backup.
When Matt turned his eyes back to Irina, her head was bowed, her hands folded. She finished praying and made the sign of the cross.
"Are you Catholic?" asked Matt.
"Yes, in my country not many Catholic, but my city used to be part of Poland. Many are Catholic. When I was little girl, Pope John Paul II came to Lviv. My parents take me to see him. Many people attend Mass at great outdoor service. I always remember that day. It very special for all Catholics in my country. Are you Catholic?"
"No."
"But you are Christian. I can tell."
"Yeah, I'm a Christian."
"That is good."
She blew on the gravy of her mashed potatoes. The steam was rising from the plate. With her fork she stabbed at the broccoli and placed a piece in her mouth.
Matt got up and grabbed a bottle of ketchup from an empty table.
"So tell me more about you and how you got here."
Irina took another bite and swallowed before answering.
"I take train from Lviv to Odessa. I meet with lady who put ad in paper. She seem very nice. She tell me of all opportunities in America. I watch your movies and TV shows. I say I like them, and she say I can work with them. I say really and she say yes. She very good salesperson. So I agree."
Irina took another bite. Matt was hoping she was hungry and not stalling for time until Boris arrived. On the street you are often forced to size someone up quickly, usually erring on the side of caution. Mistakes can be deadly. Matt's general mistrust of mankind made him a frequent doubter as to anyone's good intentions. It kept him alive. He wanted to believe the tears and the prayer so he let her eat and proceed at her own pace. She swallowed, but before she took another bite, Matt said, "Then what?"
"Then I go to Turkey. She say it easier to get out of Ukraine through Turkey. Once I get there, it not like I expect. I told I must work in shop for while. Then man say he bought me. I say I not for sale. He hit me, and lady from Ukraine say I must work for him. So I go with him. He make me do things I never do. He make me be with men. I never be with man before. I cry and he hit me again and again. Some nights I am with ten men. All very bad. All smell. All have wives but want young girl. Then one night I meet man who say I can go to America. I am happy. I think I be happy here."
"And you flew to the United States?"
"Yes, I fly. I come with other girls from Ukraine. The man bring us. We stop in New York. Then we fly to Los Angeles. Once I get here, man say I sold to man in America, and now I must please men here."
Matt had heard stories of women being sold as a sex slaves, but he had never encountered a female who claimed to endure such hardship. Nothing Irina said or did seemed insincere. He wanted to believe her.
"Was the man who claimed he bought you Boris?"
She nodded. "Yes, he hold all our papers."
"What papers?"
She cut the slice of chicken breast into pieces and dipped a piece into the gravy.
"They have my passport, my visa, all my identification from Ukraine. They say when I pay them back for all expenses to come here they will give back my papers."
"When will that be?"
"I do not know."
"They didn't give you a date?"
She shook her head.
"How much do they say you owe?"
"They say it cost them much money to bring me here. They say I should not agree to come if I not agree to pay back money."
"But did they ever give you a dollar amount?"
She ate several bites as Matt picked at his sandwich. She took a long drink of iced tea then nodded.
"Once they say I owe $30,000. I do not have that kind of money. I never make that much money. Now they say when I make men happy it help pay off expenses."
"Since you have been here, have any of the girls ever paid off the debt and left?"
"Boris say if we leave without paying he kill our family in Ukraine. Some girls try to leave. Others say they want their papers. They say they go to police. Now those girls are missing. They were my friends."
Tears flooded her face.
The waitress returned to the table, more inquisitive than a dutiful servant. "Is everything okay?"