by Tony Lavely
Beckie had waited until the third performance to pull Melissa’s shirt off without unbuttoning it; instead of the buttons popping off, the seam down the front had given way, leaving a strip of fabric that Beckie had first ripped completely from the shirt’s front, then danced with while Melissa watched. While Beckie’s performance had earned an enthusiastic response from the patrons, Melissa found that the portion of the shirt that remained was not sufficient to pull together when she put it on in the dressing room.
While she and Beckie were commiserating over the shirt’s distress, Jamse, waiting outside while the girls dressed, felt a pinprick at his shoulder, then nothing.
The punk dropped the dart gun into his pocket and looked to his partner, nodding that he was ready. At the fat man’s nod, he turned the knob, threw the door open and burst in on the girls.
Still mostly undressed, Beckie and Melissa were stunned into silence by the men’s entrance. The punk went for Beckie, as she was farther from the door, allowing the fat man to seize Melissa with a tight hold across her chest and then to cover her nose and mouth with a rag soaked with anesthetic. The punk did the same to Beckie.
As the girls passed out, slumping into the arms of the men, a voice came from the hallway, “Leave ‘em there while we get this one inside.” The men dropped the girls and each took one of Jamse’s arms, pulling him into the dressing room. The fat man had to move Melissa to make room for Jamse.
Whispering, he said, “How long you reckon he’ll be out?”
The punk looked Jamse up and down. “Ten, fifteen minutes. Five more before ‘e can think.”
“Right,” the voice directed. “Grab ‘em and let’s get going, shall we.”
“What? Both of ‘em?”
“Quiet! Right. That’s the order: both of them.”
With some grumbling and less grace, each man hoisted a girl to a shoulder and with quick looks down the hallway, headed toward the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They’re Gone
MIKE WAITED IN DEVEEL’S CAR several yards from the club’s rear door. He had seen the taxi park on the curb near the club’s back door, but since the three men inside had walked around the corner, he paid it little attention.
A girl walking toward him on the sidewalk had almost captured his attention when movement flickered in the corner of his eye; he turned just in time to watch an undressed girl being rolled from a fat man’s shoulder into the taxi. The man followed her and the taxi drove off the curb and away from him.
Shit, he thought, I screwed it up! He frantically reached for the radio to tell Jamse or deVeel what he had seen. He was out of the car and running toward the door before deVeel’s voice came back to him.
“What’s going on, Mike?”
“I saw one of the girls being taken away in a taxi back here!”
He reached the door, but it was locked. As he pressed the latch harder, the door opened and deVeel looked out at him.
“They went that way. Com’on, maybe we can still catch them.”
“Not so quick. In here.” Ignoring Mike’s protests, deVeel led the way to the dressing room where Jamse lay unconscious on the floor, then sorted through the discarded clothes.
“Well, that’s a bit of luck.” He turned to look again at Jamse.
“What is?”
“They have the shirt with the bug in it. I think they both have their panties on, too, and there are bugs in them, too.”
“Yeah, the one I saw had panties on. Nothing else, though, I don’t think.”
“That’ll be enough, even if they’re split up. Now, let’s see what we can do for Ian.”
“Ian?”
DeVeel indicated Jamse with a wave just as he started to move. In another minute he was sitting up, holding his head.
“I love it when a plan comes together,” deVeel said, handing Jamse a cup of water.
“You know how I dislike that phrase,” Jamse replied, thick lipped, but perfectly understandable.
“Yes, but it’s so appropriate now. Especially since you’re the one with the headache and everything does appear to be going as we planned.”
“What do you mean, as we planned?” Mike broke in.
“Just what I said. I made sure that Beckie and Melissa knew about the bugs we had sewn into their clothes, so they’d put them on first, if possible. They did.” Turning to Jamse, he continued, “So as soon as you can move, we can be off after them.” More pointedly, “Before someone comes to see what’s happened.”
“I know. I am trying to get up.” He took deVeel’s hand and pulled himself up. “There. I would like to say that that feels better, but it would be a lie.” He stepped toward the door. “Still, I am able to walk. Have you called Ms Jinet?”
“Not yet. We were more concerned about you. After checking the clothes, that is.”
“Indeed. Very well, after you.”
The three left through the back door, then dashed to the car. Once under way, deVeel used the phone, keying in Susan’s number before handing the instrument to Jamse.
“Good evening, Ms Jinet.” A brief pause. “I have a headache, but otherwise I am fine. Have you been able to track Rebecca and Melissa?” There was a substantial pause while he listened to her reply. “They are together? Excellent! Well done. Please inform us of any change.” Another pause, then he handed the phone back. “Fortunately, she noticed the unexpected movement as the girls were removed from the club. They are headed north and east; Ms Jinet believes that if the girls are being taken out of the country, it will be from Stansted Airport.”
“That’s a good guess, since all those calls were to Europe. More opportunity to fly a private plane from there. They certainly won’t use a commercial flight.”
“Really,” Mike muttered.
“Has Sue talked to the people at the airport yet?” deVeel continued. “To see if anyone has filed a flight plan?”
“Not yet. She is waiting until the car reaches the airport.”
“How’s she following them?” Mike asked.
“Barb set the team up earlier. Sue has a radio receiver in the helicopter. There are others in cars and vans following in a random pattern. I won’t bore you with the whole drill. It’s one of the things we do really well.” He looked over at Jamse. “Now of course, having bragged about it, she’ll call to say they’ve lost the car.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“I hope not,” Mike said fervently.
“Shall we head to Stansted, or assume that their plans are to fly to the continent?”
“What would that mean?” Mike asked when Jamse did not immediately answer.
“That we would go to Heathrow, where our plane is.”
“I believe we should make the assumption that they will attempt to remove the girls as quickly as possible. Go to Heathrow. Ms Jinet will be able to determine the flight plan at the airfield. Even if they do not leave, we will be able to fly to Stansted. Ms Saunders will remain here as backup.”
As deVeel turned into the airport drive, the phone rang. DeVeel picked up, handing it to Jamse, who greeted Susan. The one-sided conversation didn’t help Mike.
When he put the phone down, Jamse explained. “A flight plan has been filed for a Embraer E175 jet aircraft from Stansted to Rome. There is always the possibility that they may deviate from the filed plan. However, Ms Saunders said that one of the phone calls last night was to Italy, did she not?” At deVeel’s nod, he continued, “Therefore, we shall fly to Rome, attempting to arrive before them.”
“How do we know Beckie and Lissa will be on that plane?”
“We will not know with certainty until the plane actually departs. However, this is the only non-commercial flight plan filed for departure tonight. Ms Jinet has the aircraft in view; we will know soon enough whether this is the plane.”
“Oh.”
DeVeel had reached the parking area. The three left the car, headed for the terminal. Just inside the door, deVeel’s phone issued its summons once more
. He responded, relaying the information as he received it:
“Sue is watching the plane. Two men just took what could have been the girls aboard.”
Mike broke in, “Was one really fat?”
“Was one what?”
“Fat. One of the guys?”
“Yes,” came the response. “Why?”
“That must be them. The one guy I saw out back of the club was like, really fat. He had one of them on his shoulder.”
“Good for you. That means that this is the group. Susan reports that the bugs are still working, also.”
“Very well. Let her know that we are about to leave for Rome also, and to contact us if anything should change. We can return should that be advisable. If the situation does not change, she and the others should follow to Rome as soon as they can get back to Gatwick and the other plane. But I assume that the abductors will not be going—”
“Right. Sue reports that they are getting back in their car.”
“Assign someone to follow them, prepared to educate them on the follies of the life they have chosen. Ms Saunders, perhaps. But until we have our mission well in hand, make no contact.”
“Done. Derek and Willie’ll be glad to help. Is that all for Sue?”
“Have they closed the plane yet?”
“Just a sec.” He asked Susan and repeated her response. “Not quite, but it looks like it will be soon.”
“Ask her to wait until the plane actually departs, then confirm that the beacons show that the girls are aboard. She should call us once that happens, then follow the plan.”
DeVeel relayed that information to Susan. They continued through the terminal, following Jamse.
“I trust that everything is in readiness for our departure.”
“It should be. Patrice has been briefed and he’s filed the flight plan already. I talked to him from the car.”
Jamse nodded and turned down the stairway to the ground. Mike looked through the window, noticing the aircraft parked near the building with a roll-up stair next to it. “Is that the one?” Mike asked, and deVeel nodded, then opened the door to the service area.
Shortly the plane taxied out, took off and headed south and east.
Shortly after they crossed over the French coast, Patrice called to say that Susan had confirmed the suspect plane’s departure, and that the bugs indicated that the girls’ clothing was aboard.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Grouping for the Attack
JAMSE CALLED HIS ASSOCIATE IN Rome. “Buona sera, Miguel. Mr. deVeel and I are approaching Rome. We should be there in an hour, if the information given our pilot is correct.”
“Yes, Mr. Jamse. Sue called me about thirty minutes ago to alert me. Due to your arrival time, I have made arrangements at Fiumicino. There will be a car to meet you and Mr. deVeel. At Ciampino, a car is to follow whomever leaves the aircraft arriving there.”
“Very good. However, it might be appropriate to have two vehicles ready to follow those from the opponent’s aircraft. They may split up; we should be prepared.”
“It will be as you say. I thought that the girls would be kept together—”
“Quiet! Respect the lack of privacy in this communication. You are probably correct; however, the group may still travel to different destinations. Be ready for any eventuality.”
“As you say. Shall I meet you, or take one of the tails?”
“Unless there is some information you must tell us in person, follow the vehicle carrying that in which we have the greatest interest.”
“It shall be so. Your car will contain a local phone, when we do need to talk.”
“Very well. I look forward to seeing you again, later this evening.”
“The arrangements have been made. It’ll be good to see you and deVeel again. Safe landing.”
After clearing the necessary formalities at the airport, Jamse and deVeel followed Miguel’s directions. With a glance at Mike, Jamse said, “Ensure he comes to no harm.” DeVeel nodded, then grinned.
They finally met Miguel at a small trattoria outside the neighborhood to which he had followed the girls’ car. Jamse elected not to approach more closely until they had more information.
“Do we know where they have been taken?” Jamse asked of no one in particular.
“I believe that we’ll know very soon,” Miguel responded. “I have posted watchers to be sure that the girls don’t leave.”
Jamse glanced at the tracking equipment tuned to the bugs; it confirmed that the girls weren’t moving.
“What are the options?” deVeel asked.
Miguel spent the next few minutes describing the area into which the girls’ car had been driven. He pointed out that the area was well patrolled and outsiders were regarded with little enthusiasm. It was of respectable size, lush even for southern Italy, and the mansions there… Miguel was hard pressed to do them justice with his description. However, he did convey his sense of size, isolation and security.
“I believe that they are here,” he said, his finger stabbing a point on the map. “It’s the estate of a German. He is called Adolf Werner here, although the police believe he uses other names. But he causes no difficulty in Rome.” Miguel shrugged. The others nodded. They understood the desire to let a sleeping dog lie.
“What’s he look like? When we find him?” deVeel asked.
Miguel thought for a moment before calling one of his men to the table. “Tonio has had contact with the man.” He explained, “They would like to be able to recognize Signor Werner.”
“Ah. First, he is tall, two hundred centimeters or more. Well built, I would say, about a hundred kilos. Aside from his size, the most obvious features are his hair, short but not close cropped, and very nearly white. Sunlight, I think, as he also has well-tanned skin. A German, or northern European appearance, all together, except for the dark tan. Larger than usual hands. But his height will be most evident, I think. I hope this helps?”
“It does, a great deal. Thank you,” Jamse replied. “Miguel, why do you believe that Werner is our target?”
“I’ve heard he has dealings that bring many girls to him. These are rumored to occur, not only here, but in Greece and Germany, also. The car was headed in the correct direction and my contacts indicate that he is on the way here, after several months’ absence.”
Jamse considered the information.
“Since they’ve stopped, we can triangulate and find out how good a guesser Miguel is.” DeVeel clapped him on the shoulder.
“Let us wait another five minutes. Miguel, do you have any information as to when Werner is to return? Or from where?”
“I will call and get an update.” When he put his phone down, he said, “His plane is scheduled to arrive within the hour, from Austria.”
“I believe that the time has come for your instruments to do their job, Kevin.” DeVeel left. Jamse saw him check the current readings, then drive away.
Jamse and Miguel had time for another cappuccino before deVeel returned. “Well,” he began cheerily, “I know where the girls are. Or their clothes, at least. But I don’t know where that is. Let’s match my map with yours, Miguel.”
The men huddled, drawing lines and making marks on both maps. Jamse watched, sipping his coffee, awaiting Werner’s arrival.
“Here they are,” deVeel pronounced, pointing at the same spot that Miguel had earlier indicated. “Miguel is correct, again.”
“Very well. How will we gain entrance to the house?”
There was no response.
“So, some planning would seem to be called for. When is Werner scheduled to arrive?”
“About thirty-five minutes. Another half-hour to arrive here,” Miguel replied.
“Has Ms Jinet arrived?”
After another phone call, deVeel reported that Susan’s plane had landed minutes before; she and the others were on their way through the city. Miguel’s men had provided directions.
“Have we equipment available?”
Miguel described the building plans and material which had been brought to the area, along with the staff currently assembling.
Once they understood their resources, the men ordered another coffee and discussed the best way to achieve their objective.
“But,” deVeel interjected, as they neared the conclusion, “what if Cari’s not there?”
“I believe that she will be. She has been gone for days. Even if they did not bring her here directly, there has been sufficient time. If not, we will inquire after her whereabouts.”
“Politely at first, I suppose,” deVeel chuckled. “Okay, then. Let’s get on with it.”
“Not so quickly, Kevin. We should wait for Ms Jinet and the others. And for Mr. Werner, as well. We will do no good unless he is available. When we do find Ms Betheler, treat her as a civilian. In the mean time, have another coffee.”
However, the need for more stimulant was delayed by Susan’s arrival.
“Hi, Sue. You’ve just saved me.”
“Glad to help, Kevin. What’s the plan?”
“Well, first we wait. In the meantime, Ian will explain it all. I need to hear it again before I’ll understand it.”
“Oh, right,” she replied. “If you didn’t get it first time around, there’s no reason to tell me. I’ll never get it. But I will have a coffee.”
The plan that Jamse and Miguel developed was simple; it included a small diversion and an apparent frontal approach. Miguel’s men would provide the diversion, while Jamse’s team would approach the villa from the side. They sat for a few minutes, discussing the plan’s many shortcomings and obvious difficulties. At the end, they decided to send Miguel’s men four minutes earlier than Jamse had proposed.
“Werner has no reason to suspect that we seek the girls?”
“None that I am aware of, Mr. Jamse. No one has spoken of a connection with the girls outside this group,” circling the table with his hand, “and while we have planned as if our men are expected, I do not know how Werner or any of his staff would know of our approach.”