by Terry Toler
For the next twenty minutes, they drank champagne, ate strawberries, and laughed, avoiding any serious conversations. Omer was charming. Sophisticated. Jamie could see why women were mesmerized by his wit and his money. She was careful not to drink the champagne too fast. She nursed two glasses over the twenty minutes so as to keep a clear head.
Finally, Omer interrupted the conversation and said, “I must go.”
“Aww…” Jamie said in her most disappointed voice. “I sure had a good time.”
“How long are you in town?” Omer asked.
“For three weeks.”
“I own the California Casino. I’d like you to be my guest this Saturday night. Will you honor me with your presence?”
Jamie pretended to be unsure. Hesitant. She definitely wanted to go. Omer was a bad character. She knew it after five minutes talking to him. He was into all types of bad things. She saw right through his playful and charming exterior. He was a killer. She’d been in the presence of many men like him. Bad actors she was hired to identify and eliminate. She was determined to find out who he was and what he was into.
He might or might not be behind the pipeline, but she now had an in with someone she believed capable of funding terrorism. Brad might or might not approve of her change in focus. She could certainly justify it as part of her investigative mission.
“It might be the champagne talking, but I think I’d like that.”
“Then the champagne was worth every penny I spent on it,” Omer said, laughing.
Jamie stood to her feet and caught her balance as the blood or champagne or both pulsed through her body and caused her to temporarily lose her equilibrium.
Omer reached over and took her hands to steady her and kissed her on both cheeks. “I look forward to Saturday night. How about nine o’clock?”
“How will I find you?”
“Come to the entrance, and I’ll have someone waiting. They’ll bring you to me.”
“Sounds good,” Jamie said and turned and walked away as one of the men opened the rope for her. By the time she made it back to her seat on the other side of the nightclub, Omer was gone. Probably out a back entrance.
Jamie sat down and let out a huge sigh of relief. The tension was indescribable in those situations. Every second and every mannerism, every word spoken, every gesture all had to be carefully choreographed to fit her fake persona. She thought back over the conversation. From the best she could remember, she didn’t make any mistakes.
Suddenly, the feeling came back over her.
Stronger. Intense this time.
The person watching her was back.
He was there. Somewhere in the nightclub. Not Moe. Someone else.
An eerie feeling, a chill, a sense of dread came over her.
Who was it? Where was he?
Jamie scanned the room, careful not to make it too obvious. Moe was over in the corner with a drink in his hand. Probably water. Talking to one of the girls. That was good. He was distracted. Where she was sitting, she had her back to the wall. She could see the entire nightclub. People were dancing now. The music was louder. The lights dimmer.
She saw Chastity come out of the VIP area. She made her way back into the crowd to talk to other men. A sad look on her face caused Jamie to grimace. She motioned to her and got her attention.
Her eyes lit up when she saw Jamie. Chastity walked over to her table, sat down, and said, “How did it go with Omer?”
“Fine,” Jamie responded. “How much is an hour with you in a room?”
“A private room is $100.00 for the men. But it’s negotiable,” she answered.
“Come with me,” Jamie said with a sense of urgency.
They stood and Jamie led Chastity over to the line for the VIP rooms. Jamie could feel the eyes on her. Following her. Watching her every move. She wanted to stop and look. But it would be too obvious. She didn’t want him to know she knew he was there.
“What are we doing?” Chastity asked, shocking Jamie back to reality.
“I want to pay for one hour in one of the rooms with you. It has to be a private room.”
A look of astonishment came over Chastity’s face. Her eyes widened and her lips curled in confusion.
“You want an hour with me?” Chastity said.
“Yes. We’ll work out the price later.”
Jamie positioned herself in the line, so she was to the left of Chastity. Looking past her into the entire nightclub. The darkened lights made it harder to see in the shadows. The man could be hiding in any number of places.
Fortunately, they made it through the line quickly and behind the curtains. Out of his sight. She’d be safe in there for at least an hour.
The back of the nightclub was one big room. Like a warehouse, only nicer. No ceilings, but marble floors. Partitions. It smelled of water and chlorine. To the right were the water rooms. Showers. Hot tubs, viewing rooms. A door opened and a man walked out. A weird look of lust and satisfaction on his face.
A girl came out right behind him buttoning her shirt, pulling it up to cover her breasts. She straightened her shorts. Pulled them down in the back to cover her butt.
Instinctive.
To the left were a number of rooms with curtains. Most of the curtains were closed. The ones that were opened had various accommodations. Some had full size beds. Others just couches. Some massage tables. As they walked further to the back, the rooms became nicer. Some had king size beds. Lush bedding. Pictures on the wall. Mirrors. She could occasionally hear noises coming from behind the curtains.
“Take us to your most private room,” Jamie said, anxious to get away from it all.
They turned to the left and back to the far corner where there were two rooms with doors. One was closed. Chastity led them through the open door of the other one into a moderately sized room. Better described as a suite.
It was richly adorned with a couch, a couple lounge chairs, and a table where food could be served. In the center was a king-sized bed with a royal-red bedspread covering it. A large painting of a nude woman was displayed above it. It had its own bathroom and shower. Mirrors on the ceiling. TV with porn playing. The light switches had dimmers, and Chastity lowered them some.
Jamie walked over and turned the TV off. “How much is this room for an hour?”
“$400.00.”
Jamie took out $1,000 in American bills and laid them on the table.
Chastity took the money in her hands and counted it and said, “I don’t understand.”
“The rest is for you,” Jamie explained.
“What are we doing? Do you want to have sex with me?”
“No, honey,” Jamie said. “I want information. Tell me everything you know about Omer Asaf.”
17
The next day, Thursday morning, 6:30 a.m.
Chastity got off of work and went home. She scarfed down some breakfast then took a quick shower, and decided to call her twin sister, Olga. Normally, it would be too early in the morning, but Olga had texted her and told her she was so excited she couldn’t sleep. She was up packing for her trip to America.
“Daria!” Olga answered on the first ring. Daria was her real name. Chastity was the name she used at the club.
“They said I can only take one bag and one carry on. How in the world am I going to get everything to fit in one bag? What should I wear on the plane? I was thinking the red dress. And cream color shoes. What do you think?” Olga was talking so fast she was barely taking time to catch her breath.
Daria was happy for her sister. She’d never seen her this excited about anything. Olga was the one who first heard about Belles of Belarus. Daria thought she was crazy. Never in their wildest dreams did they think anyone would pick them.
“Can you believe it?” Olga said. “Out of all the beautiful girls they picked me. I’m going to make sure the American doesn’t regret it. I’ll be the best wife he could ever have. Better than any of the other girls.”
Daria couldn’
t get a word in edgewise.
“I’m sorry, Sis. I haven’t given you a chance to say anything. How are you doing?” Olga asked.
“I just got off work,” Daria said in a tired voice. Her voice was hoarse from talking all night over the music.
“It’s six-thirty in the morning. What hours do you work?” Olga asked.
“I work all night. Six nights a week. Nine to five. That’s the best shift, though. That’s when I can make the most money. The club is open all the time. I guess I’m one of the better girls because I got one of the best shifts.”
“Of course, you’re one of the best girls.”
Daria smiled at the compliment.
“I’m going to America!” Olga squealed into the phone.
Daria put the phone away from her ear. “I can’t believe it,” she heard Olga say enthusiastically.
“I know. I can’t either. That was fast too. They said they had a waiting list of twelve hundred girls.”
“I met with the lady, the head of it, and she picked me on the spot.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re one of the prettiest ones.”
“You’re so sweet.”
“Are you nervous?” Daria asked.
“Of course, I am. Excited but nervous. I’m going to be married.”
“I always thought I’d be there when you got married,” Daria said somberly. “I’m supposed to be your maid of honor.”
“I know. I hate that too. It’s not going to be the same without you. I bet my guy is rich, though. He has to pay a lot of money for me. As soon as I can, I’ll send for you. You can come to America. You can live right next door to me.”
“I’ll do that. Listen. I won’t be able to call you tomorrow. I go into work early, at three o’clock. I’m covering someone else’s shift. That’s why I’m calling today. And you can’t call me at work. They don’t let us have our phones on.”
“How’s it going there?” Olga asked.
All Olga knew was that Daria was working at a nightclub in Minsk. They had applied together at Belles of Belarus to be matched up with an American man to marry. Daria opted to go to Minsk and work at a nightclub. Olga chose to become a mail order bride. Daria was wondering if she had made the right choice. Maybe she could have been the one going to America.
I’m going to miss her desperately.
They were the only family each other had. Born to an abusive father and an alcoholic mother, they had both left home when they turned eighteen. As far as they knew, their father was in prison somewhere, and their mother was in the Republic Hospital for Mental Health. A fancy name for an asylum.
“I’ve been worried about you,” Olga added.
“It’s okay,” Daria said, in obvious pain.
“What’s going on? Talk to me.”
“I mean… Some people are nice. It’s just not what I thought it would be like.”
Tears started welling up in Daria’s eyes. She tried to hide it, but Olga commented that she could tell Daria was crying.
“Actually, I hate it. The guys are disgusting.”
“Which club are you working at?” Olga asked.
“Splash.”
“Have you met any cute guys?”
“I don’t even notice anymore. None of them are cute to me. I pretty much have to do whatever the guy wants. I thought I got to make my own choices. But I don’t. It’s really hard to pretend I’m enjoying it. I hate every second of it.”
“What do you mean, you hate what you have to do?”
Silence as Daria didn’t say anything.
“Daria?” she asked more strongly.
“I have to have sex with these guys.”
“What?” Olga said in a loud voice. “No one ever told us that. I thought you just had to dance for them, maybe take your clothes off. I didn’t know you actually had to have sex with them.”
“That’s what I thought too. It’s horrible. The money’s good. But…”
“Why don’t you come home?”
“I can’t. I signed a three-year contract. If I leave, I have to pay them back a lot of money. They said they would sue me and turn me in to the government. I’m afraid. These people aren’t messing around. I agreed to it. It’s my fault. I have to live with it.”
The girl, Allie Walker, had said last night she would try to get her out of the contract. Not to get her hopes up, but she’d try.
“Anyway, enough about me. I’ll be okay. What about you? Are you excited?”
“I’m nervous,” Olga answered. “I mean… I’m marrying a strange man sight unseen. I guess I’ll have to have sex with him too,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“At least it’s just one guy. You’re scared. I understand. Do you know your itinerary?”
Daria could hear Olga shuffling some papers. “We’re supposed to be at Belles by three o’clock on Friday,” she said. “Our buses leave right after that. Our flight leaves Moscow sometime the next morning.”
“When will you be in America?”
“I don’t know exactly. I think we fly through Germany or something.”
“Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? I already regret my decision.”
“I can always come back if I don’t like it or if I don’t like the guy.”
“Did you get the phone I sent you?”
“I did.”
“It’s an international phone. You can use it anywhere.”
“How can you afford that?”
“I’m making fairly good money now. I bought it at a phone store here in Minsk. I put some money in the envelope for you.”
“I got it, but they said we can’t bring phones or money. I’m not supposed to call you for a year.”
“Screw that. You call me. You promise?”
“I promise. I’ll call you every chance I get.
“If you don’t like it there, call me. You can come back home.”
“I will. I’ll be fine.”
“Call me before you get on your flight in Moscow. I’ll be at work, but you can leave me a message. Let me know you’re okay.”
“I will. We should have plenty of time before our plane leaves. I’m not supposed to have a phone though. I’ll have to sneak it in.”
“That shouldn’t be hard. We had a lot of practice sneaking stuff around mom. She never found anything. Promise me you’ll call. Even if it is just for a second. Let me know you’re okay. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be worried. By the way, I met an American girl tonight. Her name is Allie.”
“You met her in Minsk?”
“Yeah. She came into Splash.”
“What was she doing there?”
“I don’t know, but I like her. She paid me a thousand American dollars to go back to a VIP room with her for an hour.”
“You had sex with a woman?”
“No, silly. She just wanted to talk to me.”
“She paid you a thousand dollars to talk to her for an hour?”
“I know, right. It was so strange. She gave me her phone number. Said to give it to you and for you to call her when you get to America. Do you have something to write with?”
“Hold on… Okay. Go ahead.”
“555-282-3212.”
“That’s easy to remember,” Olga said.
“It’s not that easy. You have to dial eight, then wait for the tone. Then dial ten and then one. Then 555-282-3212. Write that down.”
“I think I got it. Eight, then wait, ten, one, and then the number.”
“Listen to me carefully,” Daria said. “I want you to enter the number into your phone as a contact. Her name is Allie Walker. Promise me you’ll put her in your phone. You can call her when you get to America. I gave her my number. She’s really nice. We can keep in touch through her.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“I’m going to go to bed now, but please know that I love you.”
“I love you to the moon and back.”
“Promise you’ll call her if you need anything.”<
br />
“I promise.” Olga said.
“I love you, infinity,” she said, as the line went dead.
***
8:30 a.m.
Fabi had been summoned to Lieutenant Petrov’s office first thing in the morning. Normally, it wouldn’t be an issue. This morning, he was tired. He’d been at Splash nightclub until two-thirty in the morning. Allie Walker had stayed there for hours. He followed her from her hotel to the nightclub.
He didn’t have his eyes on her for thirty minutes or so when they wouldn’t let him in the nightclub. He had to talk his way in. He flashed his badge, but that didn’t work at first. They weren’t so sure they wanted to let a detective in. He finally told them he was off duty and not working. So, they let him in but made him pay the cover charge. Half a week’s pay. No way he could turn it in as an expense either. The Lieutenant told him yesterday to quit following the girl.
Once inside, he had seen Allie talking to one of the call girls. He had to admit that Allie was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. She seemed really friendly with the other girl. Like they knew each other. Which was strange. Supposedly, Allie Walker had never been to Belarus before.
Then she went over and met with a middle eastern man. He seemed like a high roller. Like he owned the joint. They drank champagne and ate strawberries. It looked like they were having a good time. This girl got around. She was a real flirt.
Then it got really strange. Allie went back to her table found the first girl, and then they went into the VIP rooms. He could only imagine what they did back there. He tried to get the man at the ropes to let him go back there, but the bouncer wouldn’t unless he was with one of the girls. He talked to one and she said it would cost 100,000 BYR! More than fifty American dollars. No way he could afford that. And how would he explain it to his wife? And what would he do once he was back there? Go from room to room searching for her?
He decided to wait in the club for her. That didn’t stop him from picturing what they were doing back there in his mind. A smile came over his face as he thought about it again. After about an hour, they came back out. She stayed in the club for another two hours.