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A Time to Die

Page 19

by Tom Wood


  ‘Where’s your brother?’ Rados asked.

  The Slovak chuckled. ‘It’s a funny story.’

  The two of them leaned in to converse, smiling and laughing. Victor could catch only the occasional half-sentence:

  … chewed it right off…

  … better, but you know how these things are…

  … don’t even joke about it…

  The Slovakian’s three guys stood waiting and watching, attentive but relaxed. Two vehicles were parked behind them, alongside the track. There was a four-wheel-drive Toyota, new and shiny, and a weather-beaten van.

  When they had concluded their chit-chat, Rados motioned Victor over and he approached, waiting to be introduced.

  ‘Here,’ Rados began, ‘this is the new man: Bartha the Hungarian.’

  The Slovak looked him over, apparently neither impressed nor interested enough to care who Victor was, but playing along to humour Rados. ‘You brought him to wet his ears?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  The Slovak said, ‘Tell me, Bartha the Hungarian, what is it that makes you so special?’

  ‘I can rub my stomach and tap my head at the same time.’

  Rados laughed but the Slovak’s expression didn’t change. Rados gestured for Victor to leave them, and he backed away.

  The Slovak looked away from Victor. ‘How many do you have for me this time?’

  ‘I have brought three,’ Rados said.

  ‘That’s disappointing,’ the Slovak said. ‘I’m sure my deposit was for five.’

  ‘True, it was for five, but our trade is more difficult now than ever. I lost two in transit, and another I would not offend you by offering as part of the package.’

  ‘I understand,’ the Slovak said. ‘I take it you have brought recompense for the two I will not receive?’

  ‘The deposits will be taken into account, yes.’

  ‘That’s not what I said. I expected five and you bring three. I have made arrangements for five. I have made promises. I have obligations for five that cannot be met by three. Your apology and refund of deposit will not travel along this chain of ours. It is not as simple as refunding my deposit. I will have to make amends. I may not lose out here and now, but I will further along.’

  Rados said, ‘What do you suggest we do then?’

  The Slovak said, ‘It is more about what you do. I think it would be reasonable for you to cover the costs I will incur. I promised five girls. I will deliver three. I suggest you provide the cost of those two girls, taking it from the price of the three you have brought.’

  ‘In other words: you pay for one girl.’

  The Slovak nodded. ‘I am only to receive sixty per cent of the order. I will make a loss as it is.’

  ‘In other words: you will pay twenty per cent of the original agreed fee.’

  ‘You broke the deal,’ the Slovak said, the polite tone beginning to slip away to something harder. ‘You come here with three girls, not five, and excuses I care nothing about. When I break an agreement, I suffer for it. But I do not break agreements. I imagine after this day you will not break agreements either.’

  Rados was silent for a long time. The Slovak was happy enough to wait for a response, neither uncomfortable nor nervous. It seemed the fear Rados inspired throughout the Belgrade underworld did not extend to Slovakia.

  Victor waited too, but he used the time to scan the Slovak’s men. The three of them seemed amused. In his peripheral vision he checked his flank. The Varangian stood stony faced, impassively observing the discussion, but Zoca was nervous.

  As he shifted his focus back to the Slovakians, Victor registered that their amusement had an air of excitement about it, reminiscent of the crowd at Rados’ fight club as they’d waited for the Beast, confident he would satisfy their expectations and inflict maximum suffering on his foe. The Slovak’s men had similar expectations of their boss in this encounter with Rados.

  ‘Fine,’ Rados said. ‘Twenty per cent for three it is.’

  The Slovak nodded, pleased. ‘Very good. You are an honourable businessman.’

  ‘A deal is a deal.’

  ‘This is said for a reason,’ the Slovak agreed.

  ‘It is,’ Rados began, ‘but you are not keeping your part of the deal, are you? I have delivered three women. Three out of five is sixty per cent. Not twenty. Not even fifty. It is sixty. Six. Zero.’

  The Slovak sighed, loud and obvious with undisguised annoyance. ‘I can count, Rados. I am tiring of this.’

  The Slovak might be tiring of it, but his men were relishing every moment. They had known Rados would be on the back foot in these negotiations.

  ‘Are we making a trade or not?’

  ‘We are,’ Rados said. ‘But I am making sure you know that you are the one breaking the deal, not me. You are the one who is acting without honour here. I want to make absolutely sure that you know that.’

  The Slovak smirked. ‘Then feel good to walk away with one hundred per cent of the honour.’

  His men were grinning. One slapped his comrades on the back, delighted with the boss’s put-down.

  Rados rubbed his chin. ‘That’s what I thought. That’s what I always knew about you. I always knew you were a worm. So, let’s get this damn exchange over with.’

  There was only one way the Slovakians could have anticipated the deal going this way, thought Victor. They’d known that Rados would show up with three women instead of the agreed five. And it was impossible that they should know that – unless someone with inside information had told them beforehand.

  The Slovak’s smirk widened to a grin. ‘I may be a worm, Rados, but this worm is tossing you the scraps from his table. And worms, lest we forget, dine on dirt.’

  Victor looked behind him and found Zoca’s gaze.

  FORTY

  Rados and the Slovak parted and returned to their respective groups. Rados appeared calm but Victor could feel the rage seeping from him. Zoca adjusted his footing, recognising that contained rage as Victor did.

  Rados said, ‘In this part of the world the criminals tell stories about me. They whisper to each other about the demon god that is Milan Rados, who haunts the night. I am neither god nor demon, but I am more powerful than either because I am real and the pain I can inflict is real too. This Slovak has forgotten. I need to remind him who I am.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Victor said.

  Rados didn’t pay attention. ‘Did you hear what he said to me?’

  ‘I heard everything,’ Victor answered. ‘But don’t.’

  ‘When I was a child there was nothing outside my window so I created my own view. I imagined a tree, majestic and mighty; strong where I was weak; tall where I was small. I had to imagine my own world. Now, I have my own world. What has he built? He wants to steal what he cannot build himself.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Victor said again.

  ‘Don’t what?’ Rados asked, as if he didn’t know exactly what Victor was referring to.

  ‘Don’t do what you want to do.’

  ‘And you know what that is, do you?’

  Victor nodded again. ‘You want to kill him.’

  Rados shook his head. ‘No, I don’t want to kill him. I want to cut off his dick and force it down his throat and ask him if it tastes like dirt. That’s what I want to do. That’s what I’m going to do.’

  ‘That would be a bad idea.’

  ‘Why would it be a bad idea? Tell me why, please, since you seem to know absolutely everything. Tell me exactly why what I want is a bad idea.’

  His voice was quiet, but menacing, snarled through clenched teeth.

  ‘It’s a set-up,’ Victor said.

  Rados said, ‘No, it’s not. It’s nothing but a simple robbery. He’s getting three girls for the price of one. It doesn’t need to be a set-up.’

  ‘He’s getting under your skin, which was his aim all along. Because if you’re angry you’re not going to see this for what it is. As soon as you hand over the women, it’s g
oing to get very loud and very bloody for about four and a half seconds. Then it’s going to be very quiet and very dark for us.’

  Rados was shaking his head. ‘No, you’re wrong. He’s so stupid he thinks he’s got himself a great deal. He thinks I’m going to let him go home with three girls and eighty per cent of his money. He’s not going to suddenly decide to take me on. We’re armed. We have the same number as he. It would be suicide.’

  ‘I agree,’ Victor said. ‘If he were suddenly deciding. But this was decided in advance when he found out that you only had three women. He came here today knowing you couldn’t fulfil the deal.’

  ‘How in the hell do you —’

  ‘I can’t know for certain,’ Victor answered. ‘But if I’m right, that van wasn’t brought here to take away five women. It won’t be empty now. There’ll be four or five guys in there with automatic weapons, and they’re going to jump out and mow us all down the second the women are out of the line of fire. Four and a half seconds later their AKs will be empty and between two hundred and forty and two hundred and seventy high-velocity rounds will have passed through the space we’re now occupying.’

  Rados was staring. Zoca was staring even harder.

  Zoca said, ‘I don’t know why you listen to him. He’s —’

  ‘Shut up,’ Rados said, gaze still on Victor. ‘Let’s say you have my attention. But I can’t act on guesswork. I need something solid.’

  ‘That’s simple enough to obtain. He’s going to come back with the money, the twenty per cent, as agreed. All you have to do is ask to see the rest of it.’

  Zoca said, ‘What will that prove?’

  Rados answered for Victor. ‘It will prove that our Slovakian friend has no more cash to show me. If he had no intention of giving me the full amount, he won’t have bothered bringing it along – all he’d need is the twenty per cent. It would prove that the negotiating, forcing the price down, driving such a hard bargain, that was all for show. A diversion, so I wouldn’t suspect anything was amiss.’

  Victor said, ‘If he’s brought the whole amount, then I’m wrong and you lose nothing by asking to see it.’ He looked at Zoca. ‘Right?’

  Zoca shrugged.

  Rados said, ‘Here he comes.’

  The Slovak approached with a duffle bag. He was smiling.

  Rados said, ‘Nothing to lose,’ and walked to meet him halfway, gesturing for his man to usher the women forward.

  When they had reached one another, the Slovak said, ‘I hope we can remain friendly even in disagreement.’

  ‘Of course,’ Rados said, relaxed and diplomatic – the chameleon in his element. ‘If everyone in business agreed on every deal then there would be no profit, would there?’

  ‘Precisely,’ the Slovak said, offering the duffle bag.

  ‘Twenty per cent?’ Rados said, taking it.

  The Slovak nodded. ‘As we agreed.’

  ‘As we agreed a few moments ago.’

  The Slovak nodded again.

  Rados glanced inside the bag. ‘You did bring the other eighty, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ the Slovak said, expression tightening.

  ‘Can I see it?’

  The Slovak hesitated. ‘What is this, Rados?’

  ‘It’s a simple request, isn’t it? I’m not asking for it. A deal’s a deal. I merely want to see it.’

  ‘Why do you want to see it?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  The Slovak said, ‘It’s a strange request, that’s all. It makes me nervous. It makes me think the kind of thoughts I don’t want to think.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Rados assured. If Victor didn’t know better, he would have sworn the Serb’s reassurance was genuine, such was his ability to lie. ‘You don’t have to bring it to me. I don’t want to touch it. I just want to see it.’

  ‘This makes me very uncomfortable.’

  ‘Okay,’ Rados said. ‘Let’s meet in the middle with this. Where is it? In the van?’

  The Slovak didn’t answer, but half-shrugged.

  ‘So have one of your men hold it up. Doesn’t have to be all of it. I expect you have another four bags like this one, don’t you? Since the twenty per cent was already in here. I mean, I didn’t see you or anyone else separate the cash, and this bag isn’t big enough for much more, is it?’

  The Slovak was very still.

  ‘Like I was saying,’ Rados said. ‘There is no need to be nervous.’

  The Slovak said, ‘Sure, whatever you need to feel comfortable. I’ll go fetch some more of the money. How does that sound?’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Rados said, offering back the duffle bag. ‘Here, let’s be friendly in disagreement.’

  The Slovak took it, and said nothing. He walked back towards his men. Rados approached where Victor stood with Zoca and the lone Varangian.

  ‘You really should have waited,’ Victor said, ‘until we could formulate a plan. We’re about to be outnumbered.’

  ‘You’ve been right up until now. Had we waited, we would have showed our hand and given them time to prepare. Don’t forget, I’m as much of a strategist as you are. Now, they’ve lost the initiative.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that.’

  Rados followed his gaze to where the Slovak and his men were standing. No one was making a move to collect the requested duffle bags; they were in a huddle, talking. ‘Hmm. That’s not a promising sign, is it?’

  ‘Before,’ Victor said, remembering, ‘you asked where his brother was. What did he say?’

  ‘Some story about a stripper biting off his nipple.’

  ‘Did you believe it?’

  Rados shrugged. ‘Then, I thought it too ridiculous not to. Now…’

  Victor said, ‘What do you know about this missing brother that could be relevant to our situation?’

  ‘They’re partners,’ Zoca said, as if Victor was stupid. ‘They run their business together. What does it matter?’

  ‘He was a mercenary, in the war,’ Rados said, understanding what Victor meant, and glancing around into the mist and trees. ‘He was a sniper.’

  FORTY-ONE

  The forest was quiet save for the soothing sound of vegetation rustling in the breeze. Behind Rados, the Slovakians appeared relaxed because they held the advantage.

  ‘I’d rather they had another five men than a sniper,’ Victor said.

  ‘It can’t work,’ Rados said. ‘At the sound of gunfire my men will be here in less than two minutes.’

  ‘Not if the sniper has a suppressor and subsonic ammunition. We’re at least three hundred metres away from them with a thousand trees between us to absorb sound.’

  ‘If he doesn’t have a silenced weapon?’

  ‘Then the gunmen in the back of the van will finish us off.’

  ‘Four and a half seconds,’ Rados said.

  ‘Exactly,’ Victor said. ‘Either way, no help is going to get to us in time. We’re on our own.’

  Rados said, ‘We have time. As you said, we’re safe until we bring the girls out of the line of fire.’

  ‘But not much time,’ Victor said back. ‘If we delay too long, we lose the initiative again.’

  Rados nodded his agreement. ‘If you were out there in the trees with a rifle, how would you do it? Where would you be?’

  Victor looked, without making it obvious. ‘There’s no danger of lens glare in this light, and no danger of sun blindness, so I start with plenty of options.’

  Rados nodded. ‘It’s all about line of sight, isn’t it?’

  Victor nodded too. ‘The trees are widely spaced, but they weren’t planted. There will be no straight lines through the forest.’

  ‘I was never a sniper myself so I shall defer to you on this. I can see maybe sixty or seventy metres before there is nothing but mist.’

  ‘He doesn’t have to be that far out. If I were him, I would be as close as I could. The bracken is up to armpit-level in some places. I could be ten metres away and you wouldn’
t see me. I could be twenty and you wouldn’t see me even if you knew exactly where I was crouching.’

  ‘Won’t he be lying prone?’

  ‘No, not in this level of ground vegetation. He has to be mobile. He has to be reactive to where we are. He can’t lie up and expect us to stay still. If we move a metre in any direction it would throw off his line of sight.’

  ‘Left or right?’ Rados asked. ‘Fifty-fifty.’

  Victor glanced in both directions. The trees and ground vegetation seemed identical in their randomness. Neither side of the track offered any particular advantage or disadvantage. Both were flat.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not fifty-fifty. There are three options. Two of which are exactly the same, and just as inferior.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘Where are we?’

  ‘In a forest,’ Zoca said, incredulous.

  ‘On a track,’ Rados said. ‘So he’s on the track too, or slightly to one side of it, crouching in the bracken, no trees impeding his line of sight. Damn, we’re dead. But, wait. So long as his brother and the other Slovakians are in front of us, he wouldn’t risk a shot, would he?’

  ‘No,’ Victor agreed. ‘But they know what’s coming. All they have to do is get into their vehicles.’

  ‘Then we can engineer the handover. We can position ourselves.’

  ‘That won’t work,’ Victor explained. ‘Because I’ve realised he isn’t further along the track in front of us, he’s behind us.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because I’m thinking like a sniper. He’s been out there in the trees while you’ve been talking to his brother, and he’s spent the whole time circling around us. Don’t look because you won’t see him, and neither can I. But he’s there, thirty to forty metres away, hidden in the bracken. We can’t see him, but he’s looking right at us now. And his reticle is currently hovering over your head.’

  Rados took it well, calm and calculating. ‘Would you miss?’

  ‘At this range,’ Victor said, ‘not even if you were sprinting.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Rados asked. There was no worry in his voice, no panic, but there was urgency, because the danger was real and it was imminent.

 

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