by Terry Toler
Where is he going with this?
She wanted to know, so she’d keep asking questions.
At first, she thought he was bluffing. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She looked around for a way of escape in case it became necessary.
Fabi showed Jamie his badge—a mistake on his part. In an interrogation, you always want to be the one in control. The one asking the questions. Moe had no idea he was the one being interrogated.
Jamie was dictating the conversation and he didn’t even realize it. “If you were following me, then you know that I had nothing to do with it.”
“I was following you until you lost me. I think that’s when you attacked the boys.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would I attack the boys? How old were these so-called boys? Are you talking about little kids?” Jamie wanted to continue dictating the conversation.
“They were twenty-one and twenty-two.”
“That doesn’t sound like boys to me. Sounds like men. Why would I attack… How many did you say there were?” A good interrogator lets someone hang themselves. If Jamie had asked something like, “Why would I have attacked four boys?” then he could trap her. Jamie was too smart for that. She didn’t know how many of the boys had talked or how much Moe actually knew about the attack.
“There were two boys.”
That was good information. They didn’t know about the other two.
“Look Mr.… what was your name again? Mr. Orlov.”
“Detective Orlov.”
“Detective,” Jamie said slowly. “I don’t know anything about any attack on two boys. I’m just a tourist. Do you have any more questions for me? I really need to go.”
Moe hadn’t actually asked a question in five minutes. He leaned across the table, looked around, and cavalierly said, “I saw you look.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Jamie knew exactly what he meant.
When he was following her over to Splash, she glanced over at the scene. She didn’t think there was any way he could’ve seen that. Was he sharper than she thought or was he making it up?
It was time to find out.
Jamie had to tread lightly. Even though Moe was a keystone cop in every sense of the word, he was still a detective in a former Soviet bloc country. He had the power to throw her in jail and hold her for a month if he wanted—or worse, he could turn her over to the KGB.
“Detective Orlov, what do you want with me?”
She would make him play his cards. Tell her what he really knows. Depending on his answer, Jamie was either going to disable him, blow her cover, and spend the next few weeks underground, or he had nothing, and he would have to let her go.
“I think you know more than you are letting on. I think you know what happened to those boys. I just can’t prove it yet. I want you to know that I’m watching you.”
That was when Jamie realized that he’d probably been told to stand down. He didn’t have anything on her, and they both knew it. This was not how KGB and Militsia did interrogations. They simply threw you in jail and let you suffer with no food and water or sleep until you answered their questions. His bosses had told him to leave her alone, and he was trying to be a hero. He probably had seen her look.
Now was the time to confuse him further. Jamie leaned in and motioned for Moe to do the same. He leaned over the table closer to her.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” Jamie asked in her most serious tone.
“What?” Moe’s mouth was wide open in anticipation.
“I’m going to have to kill you.”
Moe jerked back in his chair.
Jamie burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. It’s a joke.”
She could tell Moe was genuinely scared for a moment. She had planted a seed of doubt in him. He couldn’t be sure if she was serious or not. He knew what she did to the boys. This would make him think twice before approaching her again.
Time to go back to being nice. “Detective, I hope you find the ones who hurt those boys. I really do. But it was not me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hope you have a very pleasant day.”
Jamie stood from her chair and walked out of the restaurant. Mad at herself for looking over at the crime scene.
Moe was turning out to be a bigger problem than she anticipated. She hoped it didn’t become necessary to actually kill him.
19
Pinsk Belarus
Friday, 3:00 p.m.
“Everyone. Raise your glasses!” Candy, the CEO of the Belles of Belarus said.
Three hundred girls raised their glasses of champagne in unison. Candy stood on the steps of the patio outside her office and looked out over the throng of girls standing in front of three large tour buses.
“I have grown to love you girls so much,” Candy said sincerely. “I will miss each and every one of you. I want to wish you all a lifetime of happiness in America and many, many, children. Lots and lots of children.”
The girls let out a loud squeal of delight and then applauded wildly.
One of the girls, Olga, Chastity’s sister, was nervously taking it all in. She could feel the excitement in the air. Nervousness. Anticipation. Fear. Homesickness. A range of emotions.
“I love you all like my own daughters,” Candy said. “I hope you have a wonderful trip and a wonderful life. Cheers!”
Everyone downed their champagne, and an even louder cheer went up. A few bystanders stood off to the side watching the scene. No family members were allowed to see them off. They could come and say their goodbyes, drop them off, but they had to leave at least thirty minutes before departure.
“Listen, ladies,” Candy said into a microphone that provided some minor amplification. “There is a sign in the window of each bus. There’s a red bus, a white bus, and a blue bus. For those of you who don’t know, those are the colors of the United States of America.”
Another loud cheer rose from the girls.
“You were each assigned a color,” she explained. “Your bus is the one that matches your color. As soon as I am done giving instructions, you will make your way to your bus and get in line to board.”
Olga had been given a blue card.
“Get out your passports and cell phones,” Candy continued explaining. “Give them to the driver for safekeeping. All bags must be in the lower compartment, including your personal handbags.”
A groan went through the crowd. Candy held her hand up to silence the girls.
“The bags will be checked when you cross the border. If you’d rather put your cell phone in your handbag and store it underneath the bus, then you can do that before you board. Otherwise, give it to the driver with your passports. He will need your passports for when you go across the border into Russia. He will give them back to you after everything has been approved by the Russian border patrol.”
“Why can’t we hold on to our own passports? We don’t need them to get into Russia.” a woman called out.
“That’s a good question,” Candy said, trying to silence the girls who were murmuring among themselves. She waited for the girls to be quiet.
Some in the crowd began imploring the girls to be quiet with a loud “Shh.”
“The question was asked, ‘Since we don’t need our passports to cross the border, why will they check them at the border?’ You don’t need passports to go into Russia, but you do need them to get on the plane. The Russian officials want to make sure everything is in order before they let you into the country. We don’t want you getting to the airport without the proper paperwork. You won’t be able to get on the plane, and you won’t have a way to get back to Belarus. It’s for your own benefit.”
“Why do we have to give him our cell phones?” another girl shouted out.
“Once you leave Belarus, your phones won’t work anymore. You’ll be given new phones as soon as you land in America. They use a different cell phone service.”
Another murmur went through the crowd as the girls seemed excited about the thoug
ht of a new cell phone. Olga figured that most of the girls didn’t even have one. Not many people in Belarus could afford that luxury.
She understood from her sister, Daria, that the phone she gave her was an international phone and would work anywhere cell phone service was available. She was nervous about the phone. It was well hidden on her body, but a thorough search would find it. It couldn’t be that big of a deal, she decided that they would bother to search her.
“Are there any other questions?” Candy asked.
“When do we get to meet our husbands?” one lady yelled out as more murmuring went through the crowd and then laughter.
“As soon as you land in America!” Candy said enthusiastically. “The man of your dreams will be standing at the airport with a sign with your name on it. That will be the first time you meet him. I hope you’re excited. I know the men are excited to meet you.”
“Time to go! Thank you so much and have a great trip. I love you!” Candy waived to the girls as a loud chatter started echoing through the crowd, and the ladies made their way to the buses, separating into groups by color.
The ladies discarded their plastic champagne glasses into trash cans set out for that purpose. Workers were at the entrance to each bus, instructing the girls and checking to make sure they didn’t carry anything onto the bus.
A nervous energy pulsed through the crowd. Olga glanced through the crowd of girls in the line to get on the blue bus. They were of various ages. Some girls looked to be as young as fourteen or fifteen. The minimum age was supposed to be sixteen. Some of the girls must have lied on their applications.
The moods of the girls varied. Some were extremely excited and talked nonstop to anyone who would listen. Others seemed stoic. Accepting of their decision. Others looked petrified. Olga felt every one of those emotions to various degrees. She tried not to let the fear show on her face and put her arm around one of the younger girls who was crying. Olga was only nineteen, but she tried to comfort her like a mother or big sister.
“What’s your name?” Olga asked.
“Anastasia,” she said between tears.
“Do you want to sit with me?”
The girl nodded. Olga figured Anastasia to be fifteen, if that. Olga wondered about her story. She’d have several hours on the bus to ask her.
The line boarding the blue bus went fast. Most of the girls obediently followed the instructions and didn’t try to carry anything on. It made sense for the drivers to carry the passports. Things would go faster at the border.
Olga gave the driver her passport without resistance. The man didn’t seem like the type who would stand for anyone not following the instructions.
He was large and extremely overweight. A striped, short sleeve shirt with a logo on the pocket was loosely tucked into his pants.
Olga didn’t recognize the company name on the logo.
His belly hung over his pants that were low on his waist and secured by a tightly fastened belt. Probably forty-five, she estimated. And extremely gruff in his manner. He looked each girl up and down, carefully. More businesslike than lustful as far as Olga could tell.
He asked for her cell phone. A jolt of fear rushed through her body.
“I don’t have a cell phone,” Olga said. Olga and her twin sister were exact opposites, even though identical twins. Daria was the wild child. Broke all the rules. Olga was the good girl. Always followed instructions. Never got into any trouble except what Daria got her into. It felt weird to be carrying a cell phone against the rules.
The phone was tucked into her bra. She made sure it was on silent. She shuddered at the thought of the driver patting her down, groping her breasts, and searching her body for a phone. She hadn’t seen him do that to any of the other girls. For a moment, she thought about giving it to him, but when he motioned her on through, she breathed a sigh of relief and rushed back and sat down next to Anastasia.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Olga said to herself, not wanting to say it out loud where Anastasia could hear. Ana, as she wanted to be called, was nervous enough as it was. She would make it her job to keep the girl calm.
At that exact moment, an ominous feeling came over Olga. One of dread. Doom. She quickly dismissed it, but it did not go away that easily.
Everything’s going to be all right. You’re just nervous.
She kept telling herself not to worry. The other difference between her and her sister. Daria was brave and never seemed to worry. Olga was afraid of everything.
She wrung her hands together. She tried to remember a song she used to sing with her sister on the school bus.
The wheels of the bus go around and round. The wipers go swish and swish. The doors open and close. The horns on the bus go beep, beep, beep, beep. All around the town.
She struggled to remember all the words. The tune she did remember as it played in her head. She allowed a smile to come on her face as she thought about her sister and how they used to sing that song together. A song their mom had taught them.
She asked Anastasia if she knew the words to the song. Ana matched her smile as she did remember it. They started singing it together. A few of the girls around them joined in.
Olga felt better until the bus fired up and began moving, and the sense of dread came back over her.
***
Candy watched the three buses leave from her office. A sense of satisfaction came over her as another group of women were going to America. Omer would be pleased.
She pulled out her phone and dialed his number. He answered on the third ring.
“The buses have left, and the girls are on their way,” Candy said enthusiastically. “Three hundred of them. We didn’t have a single no show.”
“Excellent!” Omer said. “We are prepared for their arrival.”
Candy had nothing to do with matching the girls to the American men or with the travel arrangements. All that was handled through a different company.
“I have another request for you,” Omer said. “Can you have another bus ready for next Friday?”
“That quickly?” Candy asked.
“Yes. You have a waiting list of girls. We have a waiting list of men who want them. You don’t have to have three buses. Can you fill one bus in one week?”
“I’ll do what I can. We do have a waiting list, but it takes time to contact all of them. But I’ll work around the clock to make it happen. Is that enough time to match the girls with their husbands and make all the travel plans?”
“You don’t worry about that,” Omer said roughly. “You take care of getting the girls, and we’ll do the rest.”
“You can count on me,” Candy said as they hung up the phone.
One week That’s not much time. She wondered how the other company would match the men with the girls that quickly. She wouldn’t have a complete list until Thursday at the earliest.
And why all the secrecy? Omer wouldn’t let her know who the other company was or how they matched the girls to the men. She had several ideas on how to create the most successful matches.
Strange that Omer never wanted her involved in that process. Never even wanted her to have any contact with the girls once they left Pinsk.
“Oh well,” she said as she breathed a heavy sigh. She picked up the phone and called her assistant Jada into her office.
“We have a lot of work to do,” Candy said. “We need to put together another bus load of girls by next Friday.”
***
Minsk, Belarus 5:00 p.m.
Jamie had skipped her reconnaissance of Liberty Square the day before because Moe was still following her. She was being more careful after he confronted her in the restaurant at lunch. She left the hotel in the car which she didn’t think he knew about. It allowed her to move freely without him knowing she was gone. She made the occasional appearance out of the hotel to get something to eat, do some shopping, be seen. Enough to keep Moe guessing about what she was up to.
Certain he had no proo
f of her involvement in the fight with the boys or she would’ve already been arrested. Her room hadn’t been searched recently either. More proof she was in the clear as far as Moe’s supervisors were concerned.
She pulled up google earth on her phone and used that to familiarize herself further with Liberty Square. Not as good as being there, but it would have to do. She felt confident in her preparations, even though she hadn’t seen the scene again. She’d already been to Liberty Square once and had checked it out the first time, and with her maps and google earth, she memorized every square foot of the area.
Five o’clock.
Time to leave. She wanted to get to the Square early and into position so she could watch and see if anyone followed her contact into the area. Jamie was confident she was as prepared as she could be.
So prepared, she even ended things with Alex. Sort of. On the phone. She broke up with his voicemail. Funny, she considered it breaking up with him when they were never really together. He probably already considered them broken up.
He was too big a distraction. They went on the cruise almost six weeks ago, and since then, they hadn’t spoken once. She called him four times, and he had called her twice. Every time they both got the other’s voicemail. This wasn’t going to work.
As Curly said, no entanglements.
Jamie made some mistakes on this mission. Looking over at the scene of the attack was an obvious one. A rookie mistake even Moe had caught. She blamed it on Alex. He was why she couldn’t focus. Thinking about him was a distraction. Is he going to call? Should I call him? Why hasn’t he called? High school stuff. She’d had a good time while it lasted. It was over. The phone call was closure.
It was done. She had to put it out of her mind. End the distractions once and for all.
Meeting her contact demanded her complete focus. In one of her shopping trips, Jamie bought another set of black leggings, another long black sleeve form-fitting pullover, a black pullover wool hat, dark-colored socks, dark tennis shoes, and a black sweat jacket with inside pockets. The black would make her hard to spot as it was starting to get dark out. The only thing she had on her was a map and a cell phone.